#this made me laugh so much i have to have it on here

[ceilidho]

fig. 1. hand in dog mouth | Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x Reader

MASTERLIST · AO3

The first time he smells her from inside the woman's locker room, it brings him to a halt. The human voice in his head grows dimmer and dimmer until it ceases to make a sound.

or: the forced mating omegaverse au

tags: Size Difference, Size Kink, Omegaverse, Explicit Sexual Content, AFAB Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping, Heavy Noncon/Dubcon Elements

“Fuckin’ gym isnae giei’ me a free month even though ah have tae drive tae practically the other side o’ the country tae get a decent pump in.”

“Mate, I can’t understand you when you get all worked up,” Gaz sighs on the other end of the phone, probably pinching the bridge of his nose. A lot of their conversations end up that way, one of them quickly losing patience with the other until the call abruptly ends.

Johnny drops his gym bag in the back and slams the car door shut, rounding to the other side to get in on the driver’s side. 

“Ah said, they aren’y refunding me fer the month even though the other location is on the other side o’ town. That’s a half hour back ‘n forth,” he gripes. The call switches to bluetooth a couple seconds after starting the car, Gaz’s exasperated voice coming from the speaker instead of his cell. 

“Don’t you already get a discount?”

“That’s jus’ fer bein’ a vet. This is completely different. It’s gonna be closed fer a month fer renovations. Ah cannae do this fer a whole month.”

“Hey, I know where you live. Aren’t there other gyms around that you could go to instead?”

“Are ye out o’ yer fuckin’ mind, Gaz? Ah’m no’ payin’ ten quid fer a fuckin’ day pass when ah already pay out the nose fer a membership.” 

“No need to get mad at me, mate, I’m just giving you suggestions.” 

“Well, keep them tae yerself if they’re all that bad.”

“Okay, this has been a great chat. I hope you blow a tire on the way there and try calling me for help so I can ignore it.”

The call ends with a loud beep and Johnny barks out a laugh as he reverses out of his spot, looping out of the lot and onto the main road.

He takes the highway because most of the slush and snow has long been cleaned off, though his wipers pump back and forth furiously to keep the snow flurries from sticking to the windshield. That already sets the tone for his evening. He nearly gets in an accident twice on the way there, everyone losing their ability to drive the second the weather is even slightly bad. 

He should just be lucky his gym even has another branch. They could’ve left him high and dry for the month, forced him to go to one the other gyms in his neighborhood that don’t offer the same range of weights and veteran’s discount. 

Worse, he could’ve been left with no choice but to use Gaz’s guest pass to his exorbitantly overpriced luxury gym downtown. Even the thought makes Johnny shudder. It could always be worse.

It’s so much more than just the drive that he hates about the other location. Like the first time he came here months ago when an appointment on the other side of town made him think it would be more convenient to pop in rather than heading back home for his workout, the parking lot is packed when he arrives, and he has to circle the lot twice before a spot frees up. 

The gym is similarly packed when Johnny walks in, and his mood darkens as he scans the weight section for a free bench. None in sight. Just meathead after meathead lining the far wall, huffing and puffing with each rep, dumbbells scattered around. 

Headphones slipped on and music loud enough to make his ears ring, he heads to the treadmills instead. Better to just start his workout like usual and hope for the best. 

The air stinks of sweat and hormones, alpha pheromones wafting through the gym and leaving not a corner untouched. It’s one of the reasons he prefers the location closer to his place—convenience aside, his location is mainly frequented by betas and omegas, the odd alpha not having much of an impact on the overall vibe. 

It’s not that he doesn’t have plenty of alpha friends (Gaz being just one of them), it’s just that sometimes he likes being the biggest, meanest thing in the room. Keeps him in line. Keeps him from being the stupid shit he is ninety-nine percent of the time, as Gaz would say. He likes to be the only one posturing. 

So he doesn’t relish being forced to work out with a million carbon copies of himself. It’s nothing Johnny isn’t used to at least—a decade in the military and a lifetime of contact sport before that had been enough of an education in coexisting with other alphas—but it leaves him on edge, muscles bunching up until his shoulders are nearly up to his ears. 

Running loosens him up. Distracts him from the urge to sink his teeth into something tender and shake until it bleeds. 

A brisk walk to a light jog to a full on sprint. Tongue suctioned to the roof of his mouth, sharpened canines throbbing. The most natural state in the world—legs pumping under him faster and faster, the faint memory of bare feet on a cold forest floor turning over loose soil with every stride. The steady pound of his feet against the ground rumbling through him.

It’s a pale imitation of the real deal, but the taste of salt and rust on the back of his tongue keep him grounded. The beast in his chest rumbles its approval. 

When a bench finally frees up, Johnny has to dash across the gym when he sees another alpha nearby eyeing his spot. He reaches the bench a few seconds before the other man though, slinging his sweat-drenched towel across the seat to claim it as his. The alpha hovers for a tense second, face screwed up in anger and nostrils flared like he might put up a fight for it. 

Do it, Johnny almost growls, teeth itching. Try it and see what happens.

Lucky for both of them that the other alpha knows when to cut his losses. He shoulder checks another alpha as he stomps back to the leg press machine and nearly starts a whole other fight, but that’s none of Johnny’s business. 

He cringes when he finally looks down at the bench only to find someone’s back outlined in sweat. Entitled shitheads at this gym can’t even be bothered to clean up after themselves. 

The noxious miasma of alpha stench would make his eyes water if he weren’t so used to it. Pungent and sharp, like gargling brine. 

A month can’t go by quick enough.

He leaves feeling worse than when he came in. Shoulders tight with tension and irritation crackling through him. Doesn’t even bother throwing a halfhearted see you later to the front desk workers on his way out. The height of rudeness. Not even rude so much as just not him; Johnny likes to talk, he likes to be friendly with the staff. It speaks to the anger riding high in his blood that he can’t even pretend. 

To make it worse, his car is covered in snow when he makes it back, forcing him to spend an extra five minutes cleaning the shit off before he can finally leave. 

It’s untenable. He can mind his ego for a paycheck, but on his own time his patience curls up into a ball in his chest and goes to sleep. It’s not a question of if he’ll lose his temper but when. Inevitable. His pugnacity has always been his downfall; his Achilles’ heel. Always cutting himself down on a sharp tooth.

The rosary beads dangling from the rearview window sway with the car when he takes a tight turn. 

“Ah ken,” Johnny mumbles to himself, silver cross glinting under the stoplight. “Ah can do a month. Ah can keep it together.”

The next couple of times are just as bad. It’s always crowded during his preferred usual time and it always stinks, like the staff know they’re fighting a losing battle trying to keep the place clean so they don’t even try. 

The sorry fuckin’ state of this place, Johnny thinks in revulsion, sneering down at yet another machine damp with sweat from the guy before him. It takes him a minute to wrestle down the impulse to chase after the other alpha and drag him back by his hair before shoving him face down into the puddle of sweat on the seat he left for someone else to clean up. 

Only the threat of being permanently banned keeps his temper in check. That can only last for so long though.

It’s gotten to the point where he seriously considers taking Gaz up on his offer to come with him to the gym downtown. He’s a danger to himself and others here; a walking time bomb rapidly ticking down. Each day, something new tests the limits of his patience, like when he comes in one crowded afternoon only to find all of the lockers taken, the locker room stuffed to the brim with alphas and a few straggler betas. 

He sits in his car with the heat on for an hour until the gym clears out, steaming enough to fog up the windows. Nearly turns right back around when he enters the locker room to find it absolutely demolished—damp towels strewn about, shower water all over the floor, and stinking to high heavens of sweat, body odour, and piss. 

There’s still a dent in one of the lockers from the brief loss of his temper. He doesn’t cop to it, but he makes a point to only use the lockers on the other side of the room from then on.

He’s desperate enough to join Gaz at his fancy downtown gym all of one time, but the facilities there are so serene and sterile that his skin crawls the moment he walks in. Soothing spa music echoes through the three-story gym (no, wellness centre, the staff correct him at the check-in desk, and Gaz has to kick his bad knee to keep Johnny from howling) and verdant green plants grow from pots placed around the facility. 

Like working out in the jungle, he thinks sardonically. 

“How can ye even concentrate here?” he asks, aghast, staring at the group of limber, flexible bodies stretching and straining in a group yoga class behind a nearby glass wall. He licks his lips. 

Gaz rolls his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“Ah’m no’ gonna get kicked out for breathing too loud, am ah?” 

“If anything, you’re gonna get kicked out for public indecency,” Gaz sneers, looking down pointedly at Johnny’s open hand inching towards his crotch. “Can you chill out, mate?”

“It’s no’ my fault! They’re arching their backs ‘n pushing their tits out. Ah shouldnae have to look at that when ah’m tryin’ tae work out.” 

“Would it kill you to not run your mouth off for five fucking minutes?”

Johnny mimes zipping his lips and then follows Gaz downstairs to the locker room, where the wall-length granite sink and infrared sauna make his eyes nearly bug out of his head. 

To no one’s surprise, he doesn’t go back. Gaz doesn’t ask him again either.

An appointment one day pushes his schedule back a couple hours and he shows up later than usual, his teeth clenched tight the whole drive over because he expects the worst. Double the occupants, double the meatheads. 

But when he pulls into a near empty lot, the knot of tension in his chest loosens. Only a handful of cars, and most of them are parked near the take-out place at the other end of the complex. 

It’s practically a wasteland when Johnny walks in. A few people here and there, but otherwise deserted. Only a single person posted near the free weights. 

Even the locker room is more palatable. Freshly cleaned and stocked with new towels. All of the showers have been scrubbed down and dried, the curtains tucked behind the holdbacks and waiting for someone to use them. It’s like walking into a brand new gym. 

“Yeah, this is kind of the sweet spot,” a staff member tells him when he rocks up to the desk to ask about it. “We get a lot of alphas that come here right after five, so when it empties out around nine, we have the cleaning staff come in to sanitize everything.”

“Well shit,” he laughs, pushing back from the desk and lacing his hands behind his head. “Guess yer gonna see me more often.”

True to his word, he starts showing up later and later, the streetlights plump and gold when he swerves into the parking lot and parks in the middle of two spots purely because he can. There’s a new bounce to his gait, a pep in his step. 

It fucks up Johnny’s schedule for a bit, but it’s well worth getting home well after midnight if it means that he gets the gym to himself. No one to complain when he groans and pants through each rep, sweat dripping from his face and body onto the floor, weights slammed against the mat with a loud thud every time he finishes a set. 

(In truth, he’s no better than the alphas that plague the gym during the evening hours, but he’s long made peace with being a hypocrite.)

For a moment, it seems like life will at least be bearable until the month is over and he can go back to training at his regular gym. All he has to do is wait it out. 

When it first catches his nose, he splinters down the middle.

It happens when Johnny’s on his way out for the night, muscles warm and only slightly sore, the kind of soreness that’ll dissipate by the time he flops into bed. It’s later than usual—closer to one than twelve, and he’ll feel it in the morning when he’s forced to get up at his usual hour—but there’s hardly anyone else in the gym and for that, it’s worth it. 

The strap of his gym bag digs into his shoulder as he tosses a hand up on his way, saying goodbye to the beta manning the front desk on his own. A shame that he’s stuck on his own all night. It would drive Johnny crazy to be stuck at work with no one to talk to—it’s one of the reasons that he followed Gaz into private security when they both got out of the service. 

He turns around, about to step out of the gym, when a peculiar smell tries to sneak past him. A slippery thing, silverfish quick and just as conspicuous. 

He catches it though. Hunting dog with a purebred snout, he sniffs it the second it wafts under his nose and goes ramrod straight, egress forgotten. 

The door to the women's locker room is closed, but he can smell the faint traces of the omega’s scent clinging to it. She must have touched it on her way out. Must have placed her palm against the door and shoved. The alpha beneath his skin that wears his face stills as well, everything vanishing into the singular nature of the scent emanating from the locker room door. 

In twenty-nine years, he’s never felt so—

(unmoored, untethered

sinking into it like a stone, not coming apart but unraveling altogether—)

He breathes in again and it’s fainter now, but he can still smell it. Candy pink frosting, so sweet that his teeth hurt and his dick throbs. Juicy like a ripe peach waiting for his teeth. It wafts from the women’s locker room, so subtle that it’s clear that whoever it belonged to is long gone. He must have just missed her, an hour separating them at most. 

It’s like nothing he’s ever smelt before. No omega in heat has ever made his head spin like this, every inch of him attuned to a single scent. Even slick on his tongue has never made him feel like this, rut thundering through his bones and snapping him into a new shape.

The hunger shifts from his throat to his stomach, settling in deep. And the beast under his skin that wears his face opens its maw, ropey strands of spittle stringing between its teeth. 

“Hey man, you good?” 

Johnny blinks, looking over his shoulder to find the guy at the front desk frowning at him. It snaps him out of whatever spell he’d been under. His alpha recedes beneath his skin again, hungering but quieter. 

“Uh…” he clears his throat, pulling the strap of his bag back up onto his shoulder from where it slipped down. Gives the guy a thumbs up. “Yeah. Sorry—lost my train o’ thought.”

The employee stares at him for a beat before mumbling, “Okay…” under his breath and looking back down at the computer.

Johnny stares at the door for another few seconds before finally leaving.

He sweats all the way home. Worries, wonder, and woes. Blinks and suddenly his exit is next, another car behind him honking when he changes lanes abruptly without signalling. Haud yer wheesht, he thinks and flips the other driver off for good measure. 

At home, he paces the length of his house thinking about that omega’s scent until it’s time for bed. Then he tosses and turns until his sleep grows profound and swallows him whole like Jonah. Into the belly of the beast. Nothing to do but let it spit him back out like a peachstone. 

Then morning comes and his jaw clicks when he yawns and his bad knee hurts. 

But worse than the snow pelting his windshield on the drive to work and worse than the cold stinging his face when he parks and stops for his morning coffee is the memory of that smell. 

It’s not as if he doesn’t have any experience with omegas. Despite growing up under the thumb of four alpha sisters, Johnny’s been popular with omegas his whole life. His history with them is an assortment of sordid trysts and quick flings, good enough to scratch an itch but not enough to make him want to bite and keep. 

Sticky, messy, syrupy ruts spent buried between an omega’s soft thighs, gorging himself on slick and pussy; nudging his cock against pillowy lips and then thrusting down their throat, hand palming the base of their skull to hold them in place. 

It’s always been like that though. One and done; a couple days at most to work through the worst of his rut and then out the door, a messy kiss for the road before whistling his way home. Johnny’s good for that. A romp in the hay, a roll in the sack. Generous with his fingers and mouth and cock. 

He’s never craved an omega like this though, never fevered like he fevers now. Itched like his skin was turned inside out in his sleep.

Waking up in the middle of the night panting, the covers under him drenched with sweat and his knot throbbing in his hand, already swollen and aching. Fisting his cock until he has no choice but to roll over and bury his teeth into his pillow, humping the mattress frantically until he comes, eyes watering with the force of his orgasm. 

No tonic for this ailment. It simmers in his blood, infatuation decocting into full blown obsession.

Brontide as leitmotif and it rumbles in his ears. 

Wandering through the city punch-drunk, always waiting for it to catch his nose somewhere else. In line at a salad bar, always a head taller than everyone else (which he’s still getting used to, which is still a strange new fact of civilian life); at a local venue with Gaz for a concert, scenting the air for any sign of them; seated at the back of the coffee shop across the street from the gym, eyes trained on the door.

Waiting. Always waiting. 

And, hungering like a starved dog. 

Saliva pooling in his mouth when he thinks of what it’ll be like when he finally has them under him, desperate and cloying and wet. 

Other omegas smell sickly to him now, off somehow. A facsimile of what he knows is out there waiting for him. He’s not down for a quick fuck anymore. A hand on his chest and doe eyes blinking up at him makes him shudder now, grimacing down at the omega trying to compete for his attention when out there there’s—

His omega.  

Just for him. Made to take his knot and clench around it and squeal when he pumps them full— 

Hishishishishishis. 

So he shrugs her hand off and sends her on her way. 

Johnny spends weeks trying to line up their schedules—his and that elusive omega’s whose scent still permeates the gym even though he never actually sees them in the flesh—to no avail. Even though he’s there waiting at the gym nearly every day, they must stagger their visits. Worse, they seem to come at irregular hours; some days, Johnny shows up and though he can smell the omega’s scent, it’s flat, stale. Like they’ve been gone for hours, ages. Only the oil from their hands still embedded in the dumbbells on the rack. 

He doesn’t even care if anyone’s watching when he brings one up to his nose and breathes in. 

Then abruptly, the scent disappears, and with it, his soundness of mind.

A week gasping for air, flopping belly up. Breathing in nothing, not even the old, stale scent of his omega because they’re gone suddenly without warning. The first couple of days are manageable only because he doesn’t notice it at first, used to his omega taking a couple days off at a time to rest and recover, but then two days stretch into three. And then into four. 

Johnny’s long thought of himself as wild and self-reliant, not accountable to anyone or anything apart from himself. It takes four days to obliterate that notion. 

On the fourth day, he wakes up and his agony crawls out of his mouth on spindly legs. 

It follows him to work and back, an ache between his shoulder blades and a gnawing, wretched hunger for something he can’t have because it’s beyond his grasp. Smoke now, lost in the ether. He drives across town before and after work, hoping that they’ll suddenly reappear and set his mind at ease, but the gym only smells of alpha funk and his own souring mood. 

Too long without it. He’s nothing but a shell of himself in its absence, without the scent of his omega to calm him down, and it makes Johnny realize that he wasn’t doing well on his own before but just barely surviving. Barely keeping his head above water. 

Ghost hauls him out of a bar by the scruff of his neck on Saturday night when he almost starts a fight, and only sinking his canines into the other alpha’s forearm calms him down. He slumps forward in the bigger man’s hold and whines when Ghost strokes a hand down his back and murmurs something vaguely soothing in his ear, his words muffled by the mask. He even lets Ghost drag him back home and curls up on his couch until a balled sock hits his head and he slinks into Ghost’s bedroom, dragging his feet the whole way.

His longing is excruciating. Pathetic. Like a dog with its own empty bowl in its mouth begging for scraps.  

Gaz still calls every day because they’ve been joined at the hip since they first met almost a decade ago and it’s not long before he picks up on the shaky note in Johnny’s voice, stilted conversations becoming wholly incomprehensible. Even Price calls him towards the end of the week to ask if he’s doing alright. No, sir. Yes, sir. Ah’m fine, sir. 

“Was it Gaz who snitched?” Johnny gripes, cutting a side-eyed glare at the alpha on the bench next to him curling sixty pound weights and groaning like he’s getting sucked off at the same time. Still no sign of his omega. 

“Well, it wasn’t Simon.”

That makes him snort. Last time he tells that traitor a goddamn thing about his life. 

Absence does not make the heart grow fonder. It makes the world seem fetid and bland, and he looks out at it through dull eyes, anger kindling inside. Makes his stomach cramp like there’s nothing in it. It takes the sheen out of an oil spill, leaving only the mess and rot behind. 

And then suddenly it’s back like nothing happened, stopping him in his tracks as he walks into the gym. They must have gone out of town for the week, on vacation or visiting family, something so trivial that he’d laugh if his innards weren’t char and ash. If his alpha weren’t half-feral, blotting out his thoughts for hours at a time, all instinct and anger and teeth taking over until he regains clarity and the sky is dark.

It nearly brings him to his knees when he walks into the gym and the smell of his omega blooms bright and nacreous. The gym staff eye him with growing uncertainty, but he’s hardly the most concerning customer at a big box gym (last week someone locked themselves in one of the bathroom stalls with a knife), so they leave him to his own devices when he’s finally able to move again.

His omega isn’t there, of course. Johnny can tell from a quick glance around the gym and a sniff of the air. But they were, and that’s all that matters. 

Their reappearance sharpens his resolve. Runs it against a whetstone, his time of waiting coming to an end. He rolls his shoulders back and puffs his chest out in anticipation. It can’t come soon enough. 

Nothing stays silent for long when a wolf is watching from the shadows. Eventually it has to make a sound. 

It’s quiet in the gym at two a.m. (a far cry from his usual time, but the hunt demands sacrifice), only the sound of a single treadmill whirring and shoes hitting the belt disturbing the near silence. 

Johnny smells you the second he walks in. It punches him right in the chest when he inhales and the ripe, sticky scent of his omega flows into his lungs. Mouth watering on instinct. Rutilant eyed, he tilts his head wolf-like and stares down towards the other side of the gym where a pretty thing fiddles with the settings on the treadmill, settling into a light jog. 

He’s buried under an avalanche of want so powerful and so swift that it collapses him down to base instinct. Thoughts disconnected and hazy, blooming like a bruise in his head. 

Shouldnae be here, he wants to croon in your ear while he holds you down, almost swaying on his feet at the thought. Should be back in my bed at home takin’ my dick so deep in yer gorgeous cunt that ye can taste my cum on the back of yer tongue—

The employee manning the front desk doesn’t even look up when Johnny scans his pass and pushes through the turnstile, flipping to the next page of the magazine open in front of him.

It’s better that way. Johnny doesn’t know what he’d do if someone tried to stop him or get in his way. 

The gym is deserted at this time of night, only the single treadmill in use and someone that passes him on their way out, a gust of wind at Johnny’s back signalling their departure. Everything always works out in his favour. He suffers for it, but God rewards him for his patience. 

He takes a seat on the closest available training machine and doesn’t even pretend to use it. Johnny’s never been much of a performer anyway. Instead, he drops his gym bag down on the floor beside the chest press machine and leans forward, elbows resting against his knees. 

He’s lucky that you’re too concentrated on your workout to feel the heat of his stare. Your phone rests on its side in front of you, an episode of a show playing to distract you while you run. Earphones in to block out the noise. He knows Ghost would tell him to correct that. Can’t have his omega distracted while alphas lurk nearby waiting to dig their teeth into the supple lump of flesh sitting tantalizing just below the collar of your shirt—

A bead of sweat runs down his temple and his dick twitches in his sweats. 

There are cuffs in his gym bag. Tools of the trade. It’s not as innocent as he lets himself think, but they’re there in case things go sideways. Sideways like if you take one look at him and run the other way when you notice the way his half-lidded eyes barely blink as he stares at you. 

And he can’t have that. Not now that he’s found you. 

His patience is unwavering when the circumstances call for it. It’s a skill he picked up in the service, learning to channel all of the frenetic energy coursing through him into a tight point at the back of his mind, compressing it all down to a singularity that later he’ll allow to expand and burn itself out like a dying star. 

Not now though. Now he sits and he watches and he waits.

He stares at your ass while you run, crossfaded on his alpha’s slabbering hunger and his own need to wrench those leggings down your hips. When he has the luxury of time, he’ll tie you to his bed by your wrists and ankles, belly down to make it easier on him, and sink his teeth into the flesh of your ass until it’s tender to the touch, until even ghosting his hand over your ass makes you squirm and weep. 

Even the thought has a growl rumbling at the back of his throat. 

You’re not a very fast runner, but you’re quick enough. Like a rabbit, Johnny thinks and nearly laughs at his own joke. A distracted one at that, too concerned with what’s in front of you to notice what’s lurking right behind. 

No matter. He sits and he waits. 

Eventually, the treadmill starts to slow down, and with it, you. Panting to catch your breath. Fingers trembling when you pause the video on your phone and scrub a towel down your face to wipe off the sweat. 

And for once the entire gym smells of nothing but a honeyed sweetness. Spun sugar and strawberry Angel Delight. Intoxicating and heady. It permeates the building, dragging him deeper into a drugged haze, dulling his senses, plugging his ears with cotton until the only thing he can hear is the sound of your rabbit-quick heartbeat going bump-bump-bump in your chest.

You must have been finishing your workout with a light jog because when the treadmill comes to a complete stop, you take another second to catch your breath and then step off to the side, draping your towel around the back of your neck and heading for the locker room. 

Johnny feels himself rise to his feet but there’s no consciousness behind it. No intent beyond primordial reflex, prey drive kicking in when you try getting away. He forgets about everything else—the employee at the front desk, his gym bag next to him. His knees don’t even crack for once, the movement fluid, and when he follows you towards the locker room, his feet hardly make a sound. 

It’s to his advantage that you haven’t noticed him yet, but he’ll deal with that soon enough. The locked room door swings shut behind you and there’s a second where he hesitates, better thoughts creeping past his alpha to whisper in his ear that he doesn’t have to do it this way. He’s never had trouble with an omega before—why use force now?

And then he hears a locker slam shut on the other side and instinct takes over. 

You’re half-undressed in the middle of the locker room when he walks in, clad only in your panties and bra, and his world narrows down to that moment. Everything in his life has led him to this. Like a red sea parting; the universe suddenly giving him a sign, beckoning him forth. 

The door swings shut behind him and your ears twitch at the noise. 

He’s done this before in another life. Three strides and he slips right up behind you, arms winding around your front to pull you into his chest and covering your mouth with his hand. You freeze for a split second before going haywire, flailing in his hold, his hand muffling your screams.

“Shh, it’s just me, doe,” Johnny shushes you, arms constricting around you. Relishing the feeling of your body against his, warmer and softer than he imagined. 

You shriek behind his hand, twisting in his hold and trying with all your might to break free. Simple thoughts for simple creatures. Even when you try to bite his hand, Johnny only coos, cock swelling at the feeling of your tongue on his skin. The little kittenish licks just rile him up. He likes it less when you try to headbutt him, narrowly missing his nose when you throw your head back. 

When he dips his nose into the crook of your neck, he can’t help the growl that slips out of him.

“Enough o’ tha’,” Johnny growls, words reverberating with his annoyance. 

The sound makes you still, prey instincts as sharp as his. Smart girl. You know when not to push your luck. He’s bigger and stronger, and his teeth are precariously close to your mating gland, which sits nestled in the crook of your neck. 

He breathes in. Your scent is strongest there, at the base of your neck. A delicate layer of skin and then underneath it, your blood sings. Whispers praises high and sweet to him. A shuddering breath out. 

You mumble something behind his hand. Tremble violently, your nails digging into his forearm with a biting sting. 

He shushes you again. “No’ here, baby—gotta take ye somewhere more private.” 

He pays no mind to the way you resume your screaming behind his hand as drags you deeper into the locker room and away from the door. Hardly needs to use any of his real strength, only a fraction of it. The fight you put up would almost be endearing, would almost make him go thatta girl and nip at the tip of your nose, if not for the way it triggers his instincts, an innate urge to dominate you into submission. 

It isn’t hard to wrestle you to the floor in the showers. Like play fighting, all bark and whine and keen, teeth snapping an inch from his nose until he pins you under him, snarling right in your face until you submit. That gets you to stop making a fuss. The last thing he wants is to deal with a front desk employee trying to play the hero by pulling him off you. Not that anyone could. He’d rather this not end in bloodshed. 

“Tha’s better,” Johnny growls. “Jus’ be nice, a’right?”

You shiver at his words, eyes wide and petrified, darting all over his face. Even tinged with your fear, how could he not preen under your gaze now that you’re getting a proper look at him? He knows what he looks like—rugged and strong, mohawk recently cleaned up and beard freshly trimmed. Not a behemoth like Ghost, but big for an alpha, broad shouldered and beefy. 

Big for an alpha in a couple different ways, he leers.

“Don’t hurt me,” you whimper, and that breaks his heart. How could he ever? How could he ever look at something as perfect as you and want to ruin it? His chest aches at the thought. 

“No, baby,” he whines, nuzzling his nose into the side of your face. “Ah would never, baby, never. Dinnae be scared. Ah’m no’ gonna hurt you, doe.” 

He drags his nose down the length of your head, running his tongue over the rounded corner of your jaw. Your sweat tastes of wet roses and tart jam. Still intoxicating, but wrong, sour and sodden with fear. It makes his skin itch and his shoulders tense. You shouldn’t be scared of him; his omega should never be scared of him. 

“Ye cannae smell it, doe?” he asks, pressing a soft kiss into your neck, lingering there so he can feel your pulse flutter against his lips. “Ah can… Cannae smell a damn thing else when yer around. S’all ah can think about.”

“What are you talking about?” you whisper, so frightened that you can barely squeeze the words out, fear choking you. He can’t stand it. The thought that you might find him dangerous makes his throat burn, agony ripping his chest open and yanking his insides out. 

He braces himself up on his forearms and forces his hand under your head, lifting your head up off the tile floor.

“How do ah smell, doe?” Johnny rasps, shoving your face into his neck and holding you there until you have no choice but to inhale. He feels the way you shudder when you do, hands spasming against his chest. “Smells good, doesn’t it? Just breathe it in, doe.”

You do, shakily. Then a deeper inhale, filling your lungs with his scent. 

“I—oh god—” you groan, your hands suddenly fisting in Johnny’s shirt and dragging him closer. 

“Jesus,” he curses through clenched teeth, dizzy with lust. He goes with it, laying more of his body weight on top of you, hind brain taking over.

A long, deep inhale. Your nose digs into his neck. “What is that?” you whine. 

“S’the best thing in the fuckin’ world.” An understatement. Johnny’s eyelids fall shut when your tongue pokes out to lightly graze his neck. 

So much pent up emotion and anguish and want only for it suddenly—

stop.

Motion succumbing to instinct, to fate. Everything else is collateral damage when fate gets in the way. 

Your hands fisted in his shirt, scent ripening, fear replaced with something else—still sharp, but charged. Hesitant because you shouldn’t want this—it shouldn’t even be a thought in your head to indulge the strange man who wrestled you to the floor and forced you to scent him, but then you get a good whiff of him and that thought shakes like television static, like a mirage, like a glass surface wobbling right before it breaks—

When he pulls back, the world is different. 

You’re glassy eyed, so pliant now that he could do anything to you, anything at all. And then his eyes dip lower. 

He cups your neck with a clammy hand and strokes a finger over the lovely gland at the crook of your neck. It’s warm to the touch. 

“Look a’ this,” he breathes, awed. Your hand flies to his wrist, fingers barely able to wrap around it. 

“D-don’t touch it,” you choke out, swallowing harshly. It has to be sensitive. Still, Johnny can’t keep from stroking his finger over it again, soaking up the way his touch makes you shiver. Poor thing, gone so long without your alpha’s touch. 

“Ah cannae help it, doe,” Johnny whispers. He switches to his thumb, rubbing the pad of it over your gland until you whine and squirm, eyebrows drawn tight together. “Does it hurt, baby? Do ye need me tae make it better?”

You whine, trying to weakly bat his hand away. “N-no, that’s for my alpha—” 

“Aye, tha’s right.” His eyes gleam fulgurite under the fluorescent lights. “Fer yer alpha.”

He digs his thumb in harder until your mouth opens on a silent cry. 

His alpha drools a messy puddle beneath his skin, jowls sagging. It stares without blinking. 

It’s different than lust or bloodthirst. Darker; deep-seated. He’s never felt this way before, and, if his gut feeling proves true, he never will again. It’s like looking down a vast, dark hall, and seeing only one way out. 

A damp shower room floor in a locker room is no place for him to take his omega for the first time, but he couldn’t lift himself off you if he tried. His muscles feel far too heavy, like lead weights dragging him down, the gravity stronger here somehow.

“Let’s get this off,” he murmurs, sitting back on his haunches.

“Wait—wait, not here, alpha, please—”

Your protests fall on deaf ears. He wrenches your bra over your head, mindful not to let the back of your head smack against the tile floor. “Gentle, gentle—there we go. Tha’s a good girl.”

Your panties come next, stripped off and tossed elsewhere. His lips follow the path of his hands, sucking kisses into your hips and thighs until your fingers thread into his hair and yank. He yelps, scalp tingling with pain.

“Do tha’ again, doe,” Johnny purrs, shuddering when you do. Eyes rolling back in his head.

His world tilts on its axis when he forces your legs apart and stares at the perfect slice of heaven between your thighs. 

“Doe.” Voice broken, shredded. Running his thumb up the seam of your lips and moaning when your hole clenches at his touch and a drop of slick leaks out. “Oh, doe…she’s so…” 

Too awestruck for words. Language is beyond his grasp, too inadequate for the feelings coursing through him. Lacklustre, diaphanous thing. There’s no way to describe the feeling of leaning forward and touching his lips to yours, angling his head to give her a proper kiss, one with tongue and feeling. She kisses him back just as passionately. 

The taste of you is incomparable. He can’t believe he ever thought there was a world where he could subsist on just the smell of you. Impossible now that he’s had you on his tongue. He runs it up the seam of your pussy, the flat of his tongue spread wide to catch every honeyed dewdrop clinging to your skin, sucking each fold into his mouth to be extra thorough. The pearl sitting nice and pretty at the top gets a wet kiss for waiting so long for his touch. 

He pulls back for a second to catch his breath. “So pretty, baby,” Johnny whines, pulling the hood of your clit up with his thumb and sucking her into his mouth.

“Oh my god—” 

He buries his face into your cunt, the bridge of his nose wedged against your clit and making you howl. He doesn’t budge even when you practically wrench his hair out by the roots, too committed to making your pussy squirt all over his face. Not an easy task with the way you keep trying to push him away from your cunt, but Johnny’s always risen to any challenge. 

You howl when he wedges his tongue in as deep as it’ll go, thighs clamping around his head. Not a bad way to go, Johnny thinks in a daze, chin wet with your juices and nose nuzzling your sensitive little clit, making your whole body jolt. He can tell you’re close by the way your thighs spasm and your scent goes marzipan sweet, so lush and rich that his swollen cock leaks in his sweatpants.

It’s easy to get lost in your pleasure; Johnny feels it like it’s his own, his low back aching with the force of your impending orgasm. He misses your clit too much to let her get lonely though, so he lets go of your hip to push a couple fingers into your hole instead of his tongue. 

“C’mon, doe, lemme see ye come,” he whines into your pussy, thrusting all three fingers into your hole, half-lidded eyes with blown out pupils watching the way your pussy gobbles them up. “Just like tha’—oh, there we go, baby, oh my god, come on, yes—lemme have it, doe—”

Your release is wet on his hand and all over his face. Little pussy still milking his fingers, the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. 

A hush falls over the room, the moment almost devotional. He thinks you might be crying, but it’s hard to tell because the blood in his ears is too loud and his hand is wet with your come and he wants nothing more than to do it all over again until you can’t even talk. 

He rises to his feet in a daze, a deep red flush high on his cheekbones. His shirt comes off first, pulled over the back of his head and tossed behind him; his sweats are similarly discarded, tugged down and kicked away until you’re staring up at him in all his hairy, naked glory, cock flush with blood and heavy, drooping away from his stomach.  

He laughs when he notices where your gaze has dropped. “Like what ye see?”

“I don’t know about this—” you start, but he pays your words no mind. 

“C’mere,” he growls, suppressing the urge to wince when he drops to his knees again.

Johnny hooks an arm under your low back, hoisting your hips up until your ass rests against his thighs, making your back arch. It thrusts your tits up towards his face and he nearly goes cross-eyed staring down at your cute little nipples. They look lonely too. 

He gets distracted again, forgetting about sinking his cock in your cunt in favour of hunching over to get his mouth on your tits. Sucks one until it's hard and pebbled against his tongue and circles his tongue over the soft areola skin, completely forgetting about your other breast. It’s hard to pull himself off. 

You yelp when he bites down, not hard enough to hurt, but deliberate enough to tick you off. 

“That’s too rough!” you hiss, grabbing him by the hair again. 

“Sorry,” Johnny gasps. He nuzzles between your breasts, practically purring. “Ah’m so sorry, doe, ah couldnae help myself…”

Puppyish, he leans up to bunt his head under your chin, shuddering when your fingers loosen and hesitantly scratch his head. 

“…Okay…” you murmur, overwhelmed. He ignores you, too content with nuzzling into your neck while you run your nails over his scalp.

Being this close to you after weeks of nothing is almost enough. The air reeks with your scent. If it weren’t for the ugly, festering ache in his belly, he’d be tempted to skip straight to this. Roll onto his back and pull you onto his chest, press his nose to the crown of your head and breathe in until it lulls him right to sleep. Maybe get a good belly scratch at the same time.

Then he inhales and the scent of your come on his chin makes his spine go stiff. Drool leaks from the corner of his mouth.

It can’t wait anymore. The thing under his skin shakes with hunger, its greed a ravenous, frothing appetite that goes mindless when it waits for its food. Do it. Do it now.

He braces a hand against the tile floor to lift himself up and pets your cheek with his free hand. “Ah’m gonna put it in now, okay, doe?” 

And he means it too, stomach cramping with eager anticipation, knot already filling up at the base of his dick—still small enough to pop it into your hole, but not for much longer—because it’s everything he’s dreamt of since he first caught your scent in the air. 

That must not be the case for you. 

When you twist onto your belly and try to scramble away, he stares dumbly for a second before seeing red. Johnny crawls after you, dragging you back by your ankle when you get a bit too far away and flipping you over again. You hiss when the back of your head smashes against the floor, hands reaching up to cradle it instinctively. 

You get it snarled right in your face, his anger erupting out of him like a geyser, like a dense fog rolling down from the mountains and spreading to everything below. “Ye dinnae fuckin’ move.”

“I-I’m sorry,” you breathe. 

Even consumed by rage, he can smell your terror. Putrid, not the soft sweetness of your usual scent. There’s pain there too, and it makes his muscles tense like he’s ready to spring. It’s what brings his alpha to the surface, the scorch of anger cooling slowly as you lie there trembling. 

It doesn’t feel good, but he can’t—he can’t let you go. 

His hands flutter over your face, squeezing your cheeks and leaning down to plant kiss after soft kiss on your lips. “Doe, please, ye cannae do tha’…ah wanna be gentle, but ah cannae control myself if ye—” Johnny can’t bring himself to say it, the image too painful to contemplate. There’s no reason on Earth that his omega should be trying to run away from him.

“O-okay, alpha…I…I’ll be good.” 

His self-control is hairstring thin. “Yer just nervous, right? Tha’ why ye tried tae run?”

“I-I’m just nervous, alpha.” It’s a neat trick, repeating his words back to him in order to calm him down. It works. 

His chest deflates as he kneels there over you. Johnny stares into your eyes a few seconds longer, a subtle reminder not to fucking move, before he sits up again, rolling his shoulders back and tugging your lower half in again. 

This time when he notches the head of his cock against your entrance, you whisper oh god oh god oh god to yourself but you don’t try to run. It must seem inevitable—no way to fight him off or talk him out of it because there’s a film over his eyes that reflects nothing back. 

And then he slowly sinks his cock into you, your hole stretching around the mushroomed head. His jaw rolls on a shaky exhale.

Something in him cracks wide open and—

something ugly slithers out.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, voice cracking. His cock sinks in another inch, warm, wet heat sucking him in. “Jesus, doe, ah cannae fuckin’ breathe—”

You flex your hips at his words, ankles digging into the divots above his arse and pulling him in until he suddenly bottoms out, cock stuffed to the root in the warmest, snuggest cunt he’s ever felt. It nearly makes him go mad; he gets so close to it that his face goes numb, the blood pounding in his ears. He curls over you, a string of curses slipping out of his mouth. 

You’re there when Johnny opens his eyes again, damp hair haloing you. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, a tear slipping past your waterline and dribbling down your face. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me—”

“It’s okay, doe.” His hands run up and down your sides, soothing you. “S’just instinct. Ye cannae help it any more than ah can.���

Your walls squeeze around his shaft, nerves making you tense up, and Johnny groans, his hand curling into a fist by your head. It takes every iota of his being not to come right then, buried to the hilt in your pussy with your ankles digging into his low back. He nearly does when you whine at him to move. 

“Okay, baby,” he breathes. 

Johnny tries to be gentle at first. Makes a conscious effort to rock into you with slow, smooth strokes, distracting you with a deep, wet kiss. Lips gliding together, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth only to graze it with his teeth, heat rushing through him when you tremble. Coaxing your tongue into his mouth and then sucking on it.

His control starts to slip when he tries to pull out and your ankles dig into his back, pulling him back in. The force of his next thrust makes your body shift, sliding up the wet floor. Too much. Be gentle. But he can’t—the pressure in his core gets worse the longer he fucks you, an eagerness to reach his end building and building. All he can do is chase it. Bite at its heels. 

“Yer so pretty,” he rasps, petting your face with shaky hands and bucking his hips into yours until you can’t hold back your pretty little moans. “Pretty, pretty doe. Ah’ve got ye, love.”

A few more like that, pounding into you until you squeak like a toy and he laughs, breathless and full of mirth. Buoyant. Revelling in the sound of you coming apart under him, all fractured pleas and kiss-swollen lips. 

Perfect angel, all sweetness and moans and cream coating his cock, gleaming under the fluorescent lights every time he pulls out. 

There’s a white ring at the base of his dick from the mess of your combined fluids. Johnny nearly passes out when he notices. 

His bad knee aches from digging into the tile floor. He’ll feel it in the morning when he wakes up with bruises on his elbows and shins, muscles stiff and twinging when he moves, but it’s a price he’ll happily pay to keep his pretty doe on her back with her legs spread. 

Any lingering guilt about fucking you on the gross shower room floor evaporates the more you pant and the wetter you get because, he rationalizes, on some level you must want him just as bad. Not with the same fervour, not a bone bright ache that sucks you dry and spits you out like a peach pit, but close enough that you aren’t pushing him away anymore. 

He ignores the weak pressure on his shoulders. Pries your hands off so he can pin your wrists together over your head. 

“Been lookin’ fer ye fer so long,” Johnny croons. He ruts into you clumsily, losing any semblance of finesse. “Smelt ye weeks ago ‘n knew…knew ah had tae have ye.”

Your eyes fly open, stunned. “Weeks?” you gasp.

“Thought ah’d lose my fuckin’ mind lookin’ fer ye.” His breath comes out ragged. “Couldnae sleep or eat or do anythin’ except jerk my cock raw. Should’ve saved it all up fer ye, but…” his laughter is a deep, brassy thing. “…ye’ll still get a fair share.”

“You’re disgusting,” you moan, and that makes him laugh even more, rutting into you like a beast.

“Christ, doe, keep runnin’ that mouth.”

“You’re a—”

dumb, nasty dog

sick in the head, fucking me with that big, fat dick—

He grunts and his lip pulls back in a mean, crooked grin. 

It’s never been like this before. Like someone drilled a hole in the side of his head and filled it up with you. You’re in every crevice of his mind and body, mycorrhizal tendril spreading through him.

“Ah’m gonna ruin yer pretty cunt, doe,” Johnny rasps, neck soaked with sweat and eyes burning hot, pupils blown so wide only a glimmer of blue remains. “Get her nice ‘n soaked with my come.”

“Alpha—” you keen, for lack of anything else to call him and it makes his vision go blank. 

That’s the only truth that matters to him. Like a divine calling—his omega begging for him, asking for more more more. It’s as close to love as he’s ever gotten; as close to heaven as he ever will. 

Diving headfirst into oblivion. He clamps his hands around your waist to hold you in place and fucks into you with renewed vigour, losing himself in the pleasure. Any coherent thought evaporates, reduced to mindless instinct. His beast and him are indistinguishable; two sides of the same coin; he looms over you Janus-faced, a god of beginnings and endings. 

He breathes out heavily through his nose, teeth gritting together and lips pulled into a flat line. So close to it, knot catching more with every thrust, almost too big to pull out. 

The smack of his hips against yours fill his ears, drowning out your pleading and keening. Seismic motions churning beneath the tile floor keep a steady pulse. The lewd squelch of your pussy nearly drives him mad—slick running down your thighs, pooling onto the floor beneath you, this place irrevocably changed because of your mating— 

If only you’d squirt on his dick too, he could die happy. Scream out alpha, alpha, alpha until you shudder and come.

And you do eventually—milk his dick filthy sweet and cling onto him for dear life, nails scoring red lines into the flesh of his back. His muscles bunching under your touch. 

“Fuck, doe,” Johnny chokes, near tears himself. His perfect girl coming all over his cock, eyes rolling back in your head like it’s never been like this for you before. “Tha’s right, tha’s right—such a good fuckin’ girl—oh, baby—”

You need him. No other alpha can take care of you he would. It’s not enough that he fuck you, not enough that he make you come, not enough that he see you through your next heat, he has to—

Take it all for himself, every last fuckin’ inch of you his.

He bears down on you, scooping his arms under your back until there’s no space between you, chests pressed together. 

His eyes zero in on it. The nodule of flesh at the crook of your neck. And his teeth itch like they’ve never itched before, too large for his mouth. 

“Alpha—” you sob, squirming in his hold. “Alpha—too tight—”

He can’t respond. Mouth full of drool and teeth, fucking you harder than you should be fucked, cockhead trying to kiss your cervix with every thrust. He’d crawl inside of you if he could. His thrusts only slow when his knot finally catches, the pressure making you sob when he tries to pull out and he can’t, stuck inside you. Lazy grinds of his hips now, getting as deep as possible. 

It’s a shock to his system so profound that he can’t stop shaking. His first knot—better than a ring, more binding than a marriage contract. The most basic, ancient covenant. Irrevocable. 

And—it feels—

Indescribable. His thoughts leak from his ears like tar. Eager, fevered. Eyes fixed on your mating gland, dropping his head to get a better view. Better up close, so close that his teeth graze it every time he pants, so sharp that one wrong move and they’ll slice right through, one twitch and it’s game over—

You mewl and arch your chest, inadvertently thrusting your neck up too, so his canine drags across your gland—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

The beast under his skin has a name and it’s—

mine mine mine mine mine mine

(and his teeth just slipped, he’ll say when you ask)

Ah dinnae mean tae, doe, honest—

But ah’ll take care of ye—

You’ll never understand it, but there’s a beast that lives under his skin and it—

—yearns, craves, hungers, howls like its belly is still empty even after all this time, constantly aching no matter how much it’s fed—

Sometimes Johnny wonders if it’s like this for other alphas. Whether they crave their mates with the same intensity, the same burning need smoldering in their veins. He asks Price once and gets an answer that neither confirms nor denies. 

All Johnny knows is that your legs shake when you follow him out of the gym, the employee behind the front desk not meeting his eyes. Better that he not. There’s still blood and come on his chin, his grey sweats stained at the crotch. You’re no better, shirtless under your puffy jacket, hat jammed on a bit too low on your head because he had to be the one to put you back together after taking you apart. 

And though he’s sheepish on the drive home—because what’s his is yours now, and what’s yours is his—your car still back in the parking lot until he can get someone to pick it up in the morning, he wears guilt like sheep’s clothing. It doesn’t fit quite right. 

“We’ll get ye a nice wedding gift tomorrow,” he placates when you huff, thumbing your swollen bottom lip at the next stoplight. It’s tempting to lean in and suck it into his mouth, even now. 

“I’m gonna max out your fucking credit cards,” you mumble, scowling at him. Still, you wrap your lips around his thumb when he slips it into your mouth. 

You cup your hand over your punctured mating gland in lieu of a bandage. 

Johnny cackles. Man plans and God laughs.

In the distance, thunder rumbles and your head turns towards the sound that only you and he can hear.

[meazalykov]

mystery

barcelona femeni x lena oberdorf x reader

the team finds out about your potential relationship at the same time as everyone else

the chill of december bites at your skin as you step off the plane, a light fog of condensation forming with each exhale. 

cairo airport is filled with activity, a stark contrast to the quiet ache in your chest from leaving barcelona behind for the break. everyone else scattered to their families..alexia to her parents, mapi to her sisters.. ingrid tagging along with mapi.

however, you made a different choice. you texted lena as soon as the winter schedule was released, your fingers shaking with equal parts nerves and excitement as you hit send. her response had been almost immediate: 

yes, come to me.

the cab ride to the german resort in egypt feels longer than it is, the traffic weaving around you in a rhythm you can’t quite predict. your mind drifts to her…how her voice sounded over the phone just the night before, soft and inviting despite her latest recovery session. 

you remember the way she laughed when you told her you’d packed her favorite chocolate from spain, calling you “extra” with a playful tease. 

when you finally step into the lobby, obi is already waiting with lea. she stands near the entrance, her dark shirt hanging loosely on her body, her hair tied back in a simple ponytail. 

obi’s eyes light up the second they meet yours, a warmth there that makes the entire journey feel worth it. she doesn’t move right away..her lips curl into that familiar smile, the one that always tugs at something deep inside your chest, and then she steps forward. 

“you’re here,” she says, as if she needs to convince herself this isn’t just another late-night call or grainy video chat. 

“i’m here,” you echo, your voice quieter, carrying all the weight of missing her and finally seeing her again. 

she pulls you into her arms before you can say anything else, her grip firm but tender, as though she’s afraid you might disappear if she holds too tightly. the scent of her shampoo..something citrusy and sharp..mixes with the faint chill on her skin, and you close your eyes, melting into the familiarity of her embrace. 

obi’s hands trace soothing lines along your lower back, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades. it’s just you and her, breathing each other in.

“you must be exhausted,” she says when she pulls back slightly, her hands still resting on your shoulders. obi’s eyes scan your face like she’s memorizing every detail all over again. 

“i’ve had worse travel days,” you joke, but lena shakes her head, her lips quirking in mild disapproval. 

“you never let me take care of you,” she mutters, almost to herself, before lacing her fingers with yours and tugging you toward the elevator. 

“no hey for me?” lea jokes. 

“how could i forget about my favorite person here!” you laugh, pulling lea into a tight hug.

“hey!” lena says which gets a good laugh out of lea and you.

the ride up to obi’s room is quiet, save for the faint hum of holiday music filtering through the speakers. lena leans against the wall, her thumb absently brushing over your knuckles. 

you don’t say much..it’s a comfortable silence, the kind that comes with knowing someone so intimately that words aren’t always necessary. 

once inside the room, lena drops her small bag near the small table and immediately turns to you. she’s always been like this…direct, unguarded when it’s just the two of you. she steps closer, her hands finding your cheeks, her thumbs brushing lightly over your skin. 

“you’re really here,” she whispers, and this time it sounds more like a confession, a quiet marvel at the reality of it. 

“of course i am,” you reply, your voice steady even though your heart is racing under her gaze. 

“you think i’d spend with anyone else?” 

obi’s smile softens, and she presses a kiss to your forehead before resting her own against it. 

“you have no idea how much i’ve missed you.”

you think you do. you’ve felt it in every passing day since the last time she came to barcelona to see you, when you had to say goodbye in the quiet of your apartment, neither of you wanting to let go. you feel it now, in the way her hands linger on you like she’s trying to make up for lost time. 

“probably as much as i’ve missed you,” you say, and it earns you that laugh…the low, melodic one that makes your chest feel impossibly full. 

“impossible,” she teases, before finally pulling away just enough to guide you to the bed. 

you lay down cuddling with her for a brief moment before you have to go outside for more activities. the both of you talk lightly, just discussing things that maybe you guys didn’t on the phone. 

she mentions lea and kathi’s terrible jokes during her recovery sessions. there’s a tenderness in her voice whenever she talks about her friends, and you’re grateful her friends has been there for her during the times you couldn’t be since you played in barcelona. 

after a night out, where lena djs with her friends while you just sit with lea by the bars in support.. you feel the exhaustion from the trip begin to creep in, but lena seems to notice before you can say anything. 

she nudges you gently, her arm wrapping around your shoulders as she takes you back to your shared hotel room. 

“sleep,” she murmurs, her voice low and soothing. 

“i will still be here, i am just going to the bathroom to get unready.” 

maybe five minutes later.. you feel yourself getting pulled into her arms, in this secret little world you’ve built together in egypt while the time lasts. 

throughout the next week in egypt felt like a dream. the kind of dream you never wanted to wake up from or escape. you and lena spent days exploring, stealing moments for yourselves, surrounded by her closest friends. 

the most thrilling part of it all? riding dune buggies across the sprawling sands. the powerful machines roared as you navigated the uneven terrain, the wind whipping against your face as lena rode beside you, grinning like a kid who just found her favorite candy.

somewhere in the golden expanse of the desert, lea insisted on capturing photos of everyone. lena was her usual reluctant self, but you? you were feeling the sun on your skin, the freedom in the air. 

when lea aimed the camera your way, she didn’t even have to ask you to stand still when you started walking so you had your own individual pictures. 

the timing of the pictures couldn’t have been more perfect..your hair moved gently in the breeze, and the sunlight painted your skin with a radiant glow, setting you apart from the vast golden orange backdrop of sand. 

“oh wow this one’s stunning,” lea grinned, showing the screen to lena first. obi’s eyes lingered on the image a moment longer than necessary, a small, almost imperceptible smile pulling at her lips before she nodded.

“you’re posting that, right?” lena asked, her tone teasing but edged with sincerity. 

you did. how could you not? it was the kind of picture that didn’t come around often. within minutes, your feed was getting notifications. 

what you didn’t expect was for some eagle eyed fans to piece together that lena and lea had posted stories from the exact same desert in the same hour. while neither of them appeared in your photo, the connection was made…three high-profile football players in the same place, at the same time?

the internet was quick to notice. 

still, everything was manageable. until lena, in true lena fashion, decided to break the silence. obi’s comment on your post was simple, direct: 

hot

that one word sent shockwaves through your notifications. 

suddenly, the noise grew louder. fans were scrambling for answers, dissecting every post and interaction…or lack thereof. you and lena had never made a habit of commenting on each other’s photos, not publicly, at least. 

sure, you liked her posts, and she liked yours, but it was subtle. this? this was anything but subtle. you were not mad at lena, in fact, you kind of enjoyed that people were starting to know about this.

the first text came late that night. your phone buzzed on the nightstand as you lay beside lena, who was lazily scrolling through her own notifications. 

ingrid. 

ingrid: what are you doing in egypt with obi? 

ingrid: nothing wrong! i didn’t think that you guys even knew of each other

you stared at the screen for a moment, debating your response. lena noticed, leaning over to catch a glimpse of her old wolfsburg teammate texting you. 

“are you going to answer her?” she asked, her voice calm but curious. 

“not yet,” you murmured, locking the phone and setting it back down. lena chuckled, pressing a kiss to your lips before tossing your phone to the side.

the texts didn’t stop there. by morning, your phone was flooded…alexia, salma, frido, ewa. all of them had the same question: 

alexia: what's going on? 

ewa: i see you guys 😏😏 

salma: so what are you doing in egypttt!??? 😏😏🤨

fridolina: since when did you and obi start dating? 

later, lena posted her slideshow on instagram. a collection of moments from the trip since its your last day here: the sunset over the desert, the group at dinner, her in the pool. 

however, it was the last photo that threw everything into chaos. the picture was taken by the dj booth, all of you in one frame. lea stood between phil and fridolin, and lena stood on fridolin’s other side. 

there you were, at the end, lena’s arm draped comfortably around your shoulders, your head leaning against hers. 

the comments exploded. 

HELLO???

wait… are they together?! 

obi and y/n?? since when?? 

HOW DID WE NOT SEE THIS COMING?!

THE HARD LAUNCH OKAYYY

lena smirked at the influx of attention, but you could feel the tension brewing in your phone as it buzzed relentlessly on the table. by now, the barcelona group chat was probably in flames. 

you could picture alexia starting her own mini investigation, salma and frido laughing at the absurdity, and ewa typing out a flurry of messages just to be nosey about her old teammate and new teammate being together. 

“they’re not going to let this go, you know,” lena said, her tone light as she scrolled through her own growing list of missed calls and texts from her bayern teammates like kathi, tuva, and georgia. 

“i know,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. 

“but we’ll figure it out when we get back. you to munich, me to barcelona.”

lena smiled, pulling you closer. 

“as long as i have my beautiful sexy girlfriend, then i am okay.” 

you giggled. 

back in barcelona, a week after you and obi left egypt.. the locker room is quiet as you push the door open, though the quiet feels almost… staged. 

your footsteps echo slightly as you step in, and the moment you glance up, you realize why. every single one of your teammates is staring at you, arms crossed, smirks plastered across their faces like they’ve been waiting for this exact moment.

“so,” vicky starts, leaning against her locker with the kind of casual confidence that spells trouble. 

“how was egypt with your new girlfriend?”

you roll your eyes, already regretting every decision that led to this. 

“good morning to you too,” you mutter, heading straight for your locker, hoping and praying that they’ll let it slide. 

they won’t.

salma snickers as she moves to sit beside your locker, her grin way too wide. 

“you’re not even going to deny it, are you?”

“what’s there to deny?” you sigh, pulling off your hoodie and grabbing your training shirt. your hands move a little quicker than usual, like if you’re dressed fast enough, they might lose interest. 

they don’t.

“what’s there to deny?” ewa repeats, feigning shock. 

“you’ve been secretly dating obi, and you think we’re just going to let that slide without asking questions?”

you groan internally but keep your face calm, pulling your shirt over your head and starting on your socks. 

“it’s not a secret anymore, is it?” you reply, your tone steady, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“how long?” ewa presses, leaning forward. 

“and don’t even think about lying.”

you glance up at her, then at the rest of the team, who are all waiting, some sitting on the benches, others leaning against lockers, every single one of them focused on you.

 alexia, standing near the door, raises an eyebrow as if to say, you might as well tell them.

“four months,” you say finally, your voice even. 

the reaction is instant. gasps, laughter, and a mix of disbelief ripple through the room.

“four months?” frido exclaims. 

“and you didn’t tell anyone? not even us?”

“i told esmee,” you admit, earning a collective groan from the group.

esmee turns her head away from the team, hoping to not become the center of the teasing since she didn’t spill your secret. 

salma throws her hands up dramatically. 

“esmee doesn’t count. she’s your best friend here.”

you shake your head, tying your laces as you prepare for the next wave of teasing. 

“obi and i wanted to keep it private for a while,” you explain, keeping your voice calm despite the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“it’s long-distance. clearly since she plays at bayern. we wanted to make sure it worked before people started asking questions or… making assumptions.”

that quiets them for a moment, and alexia nods slightly, her expression softening. 

“that makes sense,” she says, her tone understanding. 

“it’s a lot of pressure, especially with both of you playing in different places.”

you give her a small, grateful smile before aitana pipes up. 

“but you’re terrible at keeping secrets, you know that, right?” 

the whole room erupts in laughter, and even you can’t help but join in. 

“apparently,” you admit, grabbing your water bottle and heading toward the door. 

“hey, for what it’s worth,” vicky calls out as you reach the exit, 

“you make a cute couple. but don’t think this means we’re done teasing you.” 

you roll your eyes but grin despite yourself. 

“i wouldn’t expect anything less.” 

masterlist

[calebsmuse]

not me haunting your asks in every single blog you own 😈 sooo, do you write parents!au? bc I wanted to request some scenario abt how sylus, caleb and xavier would react to their kids telling u to shut up. I KNOW ITS WEIRD BUT ITS A OLD TREND I THINK?? anyway, love ya babe 💘💋💋

੭⠀ A little prank.

⋆⠀AUTHOR'S NOTES: I love parents!au so much 😭

⋆⠀FEATURING: Xavier, Sylus, Caleb.

⋆⠀WARNING: English is not my first language, so it may contain some mistakes.

Your son’s favorite pastime was annoying his father, and he was certainly better at it than anyone else. Not only that, but he also managed to convince you to help with yet another one of his… pranks.

The boy smiled when he saw his father heading to the kitchen and turned back to his video game. Not long after, you walked into the room with something in hand. “Sweetheart, could you take this—”

“Shut up, mom,” he tried to say in an irritated tone, but a smile was plastered across his face.

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀XAVIER

Not even five seconds had passed before your son was groaning in pain, Xavier’s slipper lying on the couch beside him after hitting the back of his head squarely. “Dad—”

Xavier raised the other slipper, pointing it at the boy. “Apologize. Now,” he said, his eyebrows furrowing. “Is that any way to talk to your mother?”

“But I was busy, and she—” Once again, the boy didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, the other slipper flying straight at him. Xavier crossed his arms, his gaze fixed on his son.

You widened your eyes and placed a hand on your husband’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly. “Okay, okay, it was a… joke, just a prank.”

Xavier gave a faint smirk, glancing at you. “…Yeah, I knew that.” He pulled you into a hug, sticking his tongue out at your son. “You think I’d stop at that if I saw him disrespecting you like that?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀SYLUS

Sylus prided himself on being an exemplary father. He was patient, fun—or so he thought—and wealthy. I mean, surely his son was already having a better childhood than most people who came from the same place Sylus had, right?

And perhaps it was exactly that freedom and comfort in his presence that made the boy feel confident enough to make that kind of joke.

“I must’ve misheard. Definitely,” Sylus said loud enough for both of you to hear. You turned away so he wouldn’t see your expression, while your son simply grimaced.

“Dad, she could’ve just asked one of my uncles to go—or, I don’t know, gone herself!” the boy said, spinning the pieces of a pistol between his fingers.

Sylus’s steps were almost inaudible; it was as if he had teleported to his son’s side. He crossed his arms, an irritated expression on his face. His son had never seen that look before—at least, not directed at him.

“Don’t you dare talk to your mother like that under this roof,” he said. “I don’t care if she could’ve asked someone else—if she tells you to do something, you do it. She brought you into this world.”

The boy couldn’t hold back his laughter, bursting out in hysterics. Your husband opened his mouth to say something but stopped when he saw you laughing as well. He let out a sigh, rubbing his face. “You too now?”

𝜗ৎ ⠀⠀CALEB

Honestly, your son was expecting Caleb to yell at him or chase after him, but it was even more terrifying to see him stay silent, slowly turning to face the boy.

He froze, setting the video game controller down on the coffee table. Caleb’s eyes stayed fixed on him, and his silence lingered just long enough to make the boy shift uncomfortably under the stare.

When Caleb finally spoke, his voice was strangely calm—and that wasn’t exactly a good thing. “You have five seconds to do as your mother said and come back here, and another five to apologize and explain yourself.”

You let out an awkward laugh before wrapping your arms around your husband. “It was just a joke, I swear.” Caleb glanced at you, slipping a hand under your shirt to give you a pinch. “Ouch! It was his idea!”

He rolled his eyes but let out a relieved laugh, despite his irritation with your newfound way of spending free time. “I should’ve known.”

[wqlfstqr]

◟𖥻 cabin confessions : percy jackson

▰▰ pairing: percy jackson x fem!reader

y/n loves gushing about Percy to her siblings, Percy accidentally finds out about this and he's absolutely obsessed with it.

author: i'll never get tired of cabin ten reader x percy, probs will write more abt them because ugh i just love them, also mentions of marriage!!

She sits on her bed, a brush in her hand as she gently runs it through the little girl's hair, her touch tender and soothing, pouring care into each stroke through the knots.

Her siblings sit in a circle around her on the floor, listening to her and hanging onto her every word as she recalls the time she was just friends with Percy.

"How come you two started dating?" Lacy asks, sitting cross-legged on the floor.

They already know how the story goes, they have heard about it at least twice now, but every time they look as interested on it as if it was their first time hearing about it.

"We were friends for a long time. I always thought that's all we would ever be." She starts, settling down the brush. "Percy was just... you know, Percy. All charming and brave and, well— completely clueless about my crush on him."

One of them giggles. "You had a crush on him first? wasn't he the one that asked you out?"

"Yes, he was, but it took him long enough to do it." she replies, smiling fondly at the memory as she starts to braid her sister's hair. "We kissed first, can you believe it? and even after that, Percy was still a nervous wreck when he asked me out. It was like he had forgotten how to talk and kept stumbling over his words, I honestly thought he was choking at some point."

The group erupts into laughter.

"And did you say yes right away?" Another sister pipes up, leaning forward with anticipation.

"I don't think he would've survived if I didn’t." She grins, her fingers working on the braid. "He was so sweet, he took me out for a picnic by the lake and he was honestly... just so perfect. I couldn't say no to him."

One of her brothers smirks, leaning back. "I would've made him work harder for it."

"He's worth it. He's always worth it." a chorus of 'awws' fill the room just as she's finished with her Lily's braid. "Okay, who's next?"

Lily grins at her and goes to sit down with the rest of the siblings, happy with her new braid, and the next sister in line takes her place on the bed while y/n grabs the brush again.

She knows they're not done with their questions. "And how did you two kiss for the first time?"

Beaming at the question, she tells the whole story again and again, going through the details while keeping everyone's hair knotless and braided.

Percy has always been amused by y/n's relationship with her siblings. Besides Tyson, he doesn't have anyone else to share a cabin with, so he doesn’t really get too many bonding opportunities as she does. She always tells him about the endless afternoons of talking, the movie nights, the blanket forts, and he can't help but feel just the tiniest bit of envy as he listens.

Right now, Tyson isn't even around because he's too busy to come back to camp this summer. So even if Percy's trying hard to respect his girlfriend's quality time with her siblings this afternoon, he ends up missing her too much.

Which leads him here, finally giving up on spending time by himself, he heads towards cabin 10, hoping y/n will let him crash her sleepover because he just needs to see her.

However, just when he's about to knock on the wooden door, he notices it's slightly cracked open. Laughter spills out, and he can even pick up her laugh among the others.

He doesn’t mean to pry, really, but it's not his fault that just when he's about to announce himself, he hears one of her little sisters asking. "And do you think you'll marry him?"

Percy stops right on his track, something just tells him they're talking about him. His suspicions only get confirmed when y/n is the one replying to the question. "Well, we're still young. But I can't picture myself marrying anyone else, you know?"

Gasps and excited chatter fill the room. Some of them beg for her to be flower girls at the wedding, while she tries, and fails, to get them to quiet down.

Percy's frozen in his spot. His heart skips a beat or two at her words. He leans against the doorframe, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face.

"Do you think he wants to marry you, too?" another one asks when the room finally falls silent again.

He does. Percy wants to make his presence known just to answer the question himself.

y/n chuckles softly "Well that's something that you'd have to ask him. But I sure hope so."

"You should propose to him instead." one suggests, they all break into a fit of giggles.

"Maybe I should. Do you reckon he'd like that?" She asks playfully.

Another sibling chimes in "He'd probably faint right on the spot."

Percy can't help himself anymore. Before he can think it through, his knuckles softly knock on the door. Everyone immediately falls silent, turning to look at the doorway, where he's shyly standing.

y/n's smile grows bigger once she looks up and finds him there. "Percy!"

"hope i'm not interrupting anything." he steps in, trying to keep his cool even though his heart is racing.

The Aphrodite kids exchange mischievous looks, some covering their mouths to hide their giggles. Lacy's the one to pipe up. "We were just talking about you!"

"Oh, really?" Percy has to act as if he didn’t know that already, raising his eyebrows as he glances at y/n, her cheeks are already tinted a pretty shade of pink. "Good things, I hope?"

"Of course" she recovers quickly, making some space for him to sit beside her on the bed. "What are you doing here?"

Percy carefully steps around the circle of Aphrodite kids on the floor and plops down beside her. "Just missed you." He replies simply, already reaching for her hand.

Her siblings immediately protest. "Don't distract her! it's her turn to braid."

She laughs, setting the brush down and instead taking Percy's hand, her delicate fingers lacing with his. "Don't worry, I'll still braid everyone's hair. Percy's just here to join the fun."

He chuckles, playfully shrugging. "I've always wanted to learn how to braid, I guess"

Her siblings break into laughter, and y/n rolls her eyes affectionately. That's how Percy ends up being instructed by a bunch of Aphrodite children on how to make a perfect braid while he listens to their chatter, laughing as they share stories with him.

Every now and then, y/n sneaks a glance at him, her eyes soft with affection and he remembers what he overheard. He will never forget it. But everytime she looks at him, he knows she wasn't lying just by the love he's able to see in her eyes.

Later, when everyone is happy with their braids and every story they could think about has been told, they start to drift away to their different sides of the cabin and Percy finds his perfect opportunity to mention what he overheard. He can't keep it to himself any longer.

"For the record." He starts, tugging her closer to him. "I can't picture myself marrying anyone else either."

Her breath catches and her face turns crimson. She immediately hides her face against his chest. "You weren't supposed to hear that!"

Percy laughs, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a soft kiss against her temple. "Just let me take care of the proposal, yeah?"

She's utterly embarrased, but she finally laughs, swatting his chest lightly as she mumbles. "Deal"

They settle back into each other’s arms, the warmth of the moment lingering between them as they think about how lucky they are to have each other. Next time, when her siblings gather around her bed asking questions, she’ll have some news to share with them.

[s4kura-tr3]

Hiya! Back, back again >:)

I was thinking about JJK men with an anxious reader? (I’ve personally been super anxious cause I’ve been sick and get SUPER anxious while I’m idle, especially with the ADHD simply- not letting me, so I’ve been thinking about it :P)

If you do this, thanks so much!! If you don’t, that’s totally cool too!! Have a fantastic day/night!! :D <3

(Sorry for the slow post, school has been kicking my butt..🥲)

Gojo satoru — You sat at the corner of the café, the soft hum of conversations and clinking coffee cups around you doing little to quiet the buzzing thoughts in your head. Your fingers tapped against the ceramic of your untouched drink, and your leg bounced under the table as your eyes darted around the room.

“Are you waiting for someone?” a familiar, cheerful voice chirped from above you.

Your head snapped up, startled. There he was—Gojo Satoru, all six feet three inches of him, leaning over the back of the chair across from you, his trademark sunglasses sliding slightly down his nose to reveal his brilliant blue eyes.

“I—I didn’t think you’d come,” you stammered, your cheeks flushing.

“Didn’t think I’d come? I wouldn’t miss a date with you for the world!” He grinned, sitting down without invitation. “Though, I’m offended you underestimated my charm.”

His playful teasing made you smile, even as your heart continued its anxious rhythm. “I-I didn’t mean it like that. I just thought…maybe you’d have something better to do.”

Gojo’s expression softened, his usually smug demeanor replaced with something more sincere. He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, close enough that you could see the faint scar just beneath his glasses.

“Better than hanging out with the most captivating person in this city? Nope,” he said, his voice gentle now. “Besides, I promised you last time that I’d be here. I don’t break promises, you know.”

You swallowed hard, glancing down at your cup. “I just…sometimes I think you’ll realize I’m not worth it. I’m not like you, Satoru. I’m not confident or fearless. I overthink everything, and sometimes I can’t even breathe because it all feels like too much.”

Gojo’s hand reached out across the table, covering yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “Hey,” he said softly, “first of all, you’re allowed to feel like that. Life can be overwhelming, and I get it. But don’t ever think you’re not worth my time. You’re worth everything, okay?”

Your eyes widened, and he continued, his thumb lightly brushing the back of your hand. “You don’t have to be like me. You don’t have to be anyone but yourself. And if your brain gets too loud sometimes, that’s okay. I’ve got the loudest brain ever, so I know how it feels.” He grinned, trying to ease the tension.

A small laugh escaped you, and he beamed. “See? There’s that smile. You’re braver than you think, you know. Just showing up here today? That takes guts. And lucky for you, you’ve got me to help when things feel heavy. You don’t have to do it alone.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, chasing away some of the weight in your chest. You let out a shaky breath and nodded. “Thank you, Satoru.”

“Anytime,” he said, leaning back in his chair. Then, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, he added, “Now, let’s get some cake. You can’t be anxious when there’s cake. It’s scientifically impossible.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the grin spreading across your face. “Fine. But you’re paying.”

“For you? Always.”

Geto Suguru — The evening was quiet, the kind of stillness that made your thoughts louder than you wanted them to be. You sat on the couch in your small apartment, knees pulled to your chest as your mind raced with worries—about work, about people, about things that didn’t even make sense anymore.

The knock on your door startled you, and you hesitated before standing. You didn’t need to check to know who it was. He always had this perfect timing, as if he could sense when you needed him most.

When you opened the door, there he stood: Geto Suguru, dressed in his usual black robe-like outfit, his long dark hair tied neatly behind him. He held a small bag in one hand and gave you a gentle smile.

“I figured you hadn’t eaten yet,” he said softly, stepping inside as you moved aside. “So I brought your favorite.”

You blinked at him, warmth blooming in your chest despite the anxious haze clouding your thoughts. “You didn’t have to—”

“Shh.” He held up a finger, his expression teasing but kind. “I wanted to. Sit down, and I’ll set it up for you.”

You followed his instructions without protest, sinking back onto the couch as Geto moved around the kitchen like he’d been there a thousand times before. The smell of the food he brought began to fill the space, grounding you in the present.

When he finally joined you, he placed the neatly arranged meal on the coffee table, but his focus remained on you. “Rough day?” he asked, his voice as calm as always.

You bit your lip, your hands twisting in your lap. “It’s just…everything. I feel like I can’t keep up, like I’m always messing something up, and it just won’t stop.”

Geto’s brows furrowed slightly, but his expression wasn’t pitying—it was understanding. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face before letting his hand rest lightly on your shoulder.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly. “When it feels like the world is closing in, and you can’t catch your breath. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

You nodded, surprised at how easily he seemed to understand.

“But,” he continued, his thumb tracing comforting circles against your shoulder, “you don’t have to face it all at once. It’s okay to take things slow. One step at a time, one thought at a time. And if it gets too overwhelming, you’ve got me. I’ll carry as much as I can for you.

Tears prickled at your eyes, but you blinked them away. “Why are you so nice to me?”

He chuckled, leaning back slightly. “Because you’re important to me, that’s why. I care about you. And I’ll do whatever I can to remind you that you’re not alone, even when your mind tries to tell you otherwise.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight on your chest easing just a little. “Thank you, Suguru. For being here.”

“Always,” he said with a soft smile. Then, his eyes lit with a playful glint as he gestured toward the food. “Now eat before I have to feed you myself.”

You laughed, the sound surprising even you. As the two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm—him making jokes to distract you and you letting yourself be pulled into the warmth of his presence—you realized just how much lighter the room felt with him there.

Nanami kento — The soft click of the front door closing echoed through the quiet apartment. You sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. The weight in your chest felt immovable, like no amount of deep breaths or distractions could lift it.

“(Y/N), I’m home,” Nanami’s steady voice called from the entryway. His tone was the same as always—calm, measured—but there was an undercurrent of concern beneath it.

“In here,” you managed to reply, your voice quieter than usual.

It didn’t take him long to find you. He stepped into the room, his tie loosened and sleeves rolled up. When his eyes landed on you, his sharp gaze softened instantly.

“Rough day?” he asked, crossing the room and crouching in front of you so you were eye level.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze as your fingers twisted the fabric of the blanket. “It’s…a lot. Everything feels too much. I don’t even know why.”

Nanami tilted his head, studying you for a moment before he reached out to take your hands in his. His grip was firm but gentle, grounding you in the present. “You don’t have to justify it,” he said simply. “Sometimes things feel heavy without a clear reason. That doesn’t make your feelings any less valid.”

Your breath hitched, the calm conviction in his voice making your throat tighten with emotion. “I feel like I’m drowning, Kento. And I’m so tired of feeling like this.”

Nanami’s thumbs rubbed slow circles against your knuckles, his steady movements as comforting as his presence. “You don’t have to face it alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. We’ll take it one step at a time, together.”

You let out a shaky breath, finally meeting his eyes. The weight in your chest didn’t disappear, but the tight knot loosened ever so slightly under his steady gaze.

“Let’s focus on the basics,” he continued, his tone practical but kind. “Have you eaten today?”

You shook your head, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed.

“Then we’ll start there,” he said firmly, standing and offering you his hand. “Come on. I’ll make something quick, and we’ll sit together. No pressure to talk if you’re not ready.”

You hesitated, but the look on his face—warm, patient, unwavering—made it hard to resist. Taking his hand, you let him guide you into the kitchen.

As he moved around with practiced ease, slicing vegetables and boiling water, he made quiet conversation, nothing too heavy. He told you about a coworker’s antics at the office and how the new bakery he passed had a line around the block. His voice was calm, steady, a soothing balm to your racing thoughts.

When he finally placed the bowl of food in front of you, he sat beside you at the table, his hand resting lightly on your back. “Take your time,” he said, his tone as soft as his touch.

You took a bite, the warmth of the food spreading through you like the comfort of his presence. “Thank you,” you murmured, glancing at him.

His lips curved into a small, rare smile. “You don’t need to thank me. Just remember, no matter how heavy it feels, you’re not alone in carrying it.”

Toji fushiguro — You sat curled up on the couch, arms wrapped tightly around your knees. The TV was on, but the sound was muted—just background noise to fill the heavy silence in your apartment. Your chest felt tight, and no amount of shifting or deep breathing seemed to make it better.

The sound of keys jingling snapped you out of your thoughts. The door opened with a quiet creak, and Toji stepped inside, his broad frame instantly making the small space feel smaller. He kicked off his shoes and tossed his jacket over the back of a chair, his sharp green eyes flicking to you almost immediately.

“You’ve been like this all day, huh?” he asked, his voice low and gruff but not unkind.

You glanced away, embarrassed. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though your voice cracked on the last word.

Toji let out a short, knowing laugh. “Yeah, that’s convincing.” He walked over, dropping onto the couch beside you with a heavy thud. His body heat radiated toward you, and though he didn’t touch you yet, his presence alone was grounding.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” he asked, leaning back and draping one arm along the back of the couch, his tone softer now.

You hesitated, staring down at your hands. “I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Everything just feels…wrong. I can’t stop overthinking, and it’s like no matter what I do, I can’t calm down.”

Toji’s brow furrowed as he watched you, but he didn’t rush you to say more. After a moment, he let out a low sigh and reached out, his rough hand resting on your knee.

“Hey,” he said, his voice steadier now. “First of all, cut yourself some slack. You’re allowed to feel like this. Nobody’s got it all figured out, not even me.”

You glanced at him, raising a skeptical brow. “You sure about that?”

Toji smirked, a mischievous glint in his eye. “I’m serious. You think I’ve never had nights where I felt like ripping my own damn hair out? Life’s messy, and sometimes it gets too loud up here.” He tapped his temple lightly.

His words caught you off guard. You hadn’t expected him to open up, even a little.

“But,” he continued, giving your knee a gentle squeeze, “you don’t have to deal with it on your own. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere. Got it?”

Your throat tightened, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. “I just feel so stupid sometimes. Like I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly, his tone firm. “Stop that. Your feelings aren’t stupid, and you’re not a damn burden. If it matters to you, it matters. Don’t let anyone, not even yourself, tell you otherwise.”

His words struck something deep inside you, and before you knew it, you were leaning into him, resting your head on his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you closer.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The weight on your chest was still there, but it felt a little lighter with his steady presence grounding you.

“Feel like getting some fresh air?” he asked after a while, his voice low and rumbling. “Sometimes a walk helps. If not, we’ll come back, and I’ll make you something to eat. Or we can just sit here, your call.”

You nodded against his shoulder, his straightforwardness cutting through the fog in your mind. “A walk sounds nice.”

Toji stood, pulling you to your feet with ease. He grabbed your coat and handed it to you, his lips quirking into a small grin. “Good. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong, I’ll take care of it.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his dramatic threat, the tension in your chest easing just a little more.

With Toji by your side, the world didn’t feel quite as overwhelming.

Sukuna ryomen — You sat on the floor of your room, back pressed against the wall, trying to breathe through the crushing weight in your chest. Everything felt wrong—your thoughts raced, your heart pounded, and no matter what you tried, the panic refused to let go. You buried your face in your knees, squeezing your eyes shut to keep the tears at bay.

“Oi.”

The familiar deep voice cut through the haze in your mind. You didn’t have to look up to know it was Sukuna. His presence always carried an undeniable weight, like the air itself bent around him.

You didn’t respond. Maybe if you ignored him, he’d leave.

“Are you seriously going to sit there like that?” he said, his tone sharp but lacking its usual venom. You could hear his footsteps as he crossed the room. “You’re better than this.”

You finally lifted your head, glaring at him through tear-filled eyes. “Better than what? Feeling like this? I can’t just make it stop, Sukuna.”

He crouched down in front of you, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Tch. No one said you had to ‘just make it stop.’” His voice was quieter now, almost calm. “But you’re not going to get through it by curling up and letting it win, either.”

You scoffed, turning your head away. “Why do you even care?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” he shot back without hesitation. His words were blunt, but his tone softened slightly. “You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let some invisible nonsense bring you down, you’re wrong.”

Your breath hitched, his declaration catching you off guard. Sukuna, of all people, wasn’t exactly known for kindness or concern. Yet here he was, crouched in front of you, his gaze steady and unwavering.

“You don’t have to fight this alone,” he said after a moment, his voice lower now, more controlled. “But you do need to fight it. Let it scream all it wants. Let it throw its punches. Then stand up and remind it who you are.”

His words struck something deep within you, and tears began to fall despite your best efforts. “I don’t know if I can,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

Sukuna sighed, leaning back slightly but staying close. “You can,” he said firmly. “And even if you stumble, I’m here. I’ll drag you back to your feet if I have to.”

You looked up at him, your vision blurred with tears. “You’d really do that?”

He smirked, but it wasn’t as sharp as usual. There was something softer in the way he looked at you. “Of course. Can’t have my little human breaking apart, now can I?”

A shaky laugh escaped you, and Sukuna’s smirk widened slightly. He extended a clawed hand toward you, palm up. “Come on. You’re not staying on the floor all night.”

You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand in his. His grip was warm and surprisingly gentle as he pulled you to your feet. He didn’t let go immediately, his hand lingering in yours for just a second longer than necessary.

“Better,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You don’t need to be perfect. Just keep moving forward, little one. That’s enough.”

You nodded, his words settling in your chest like a spark of light. With Sukuna beside you, the weight on your shoulders didn’t seem quite as heavy anymore.

Megumi fushiguro — You sat at the edge of your bed, gripping the fabric of your pants as your mind spiraled. Your chest felt tight, and your breaths came shallow, no matter how hard you tried to slow them. You hated this feeling—this overwhelming, suffocating anxiety that left you frozen in place.

A knock at the door broke through your haze

“Hey,” Megumi’s soft, steady voice called from the other side. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated, debating whether to send him away, but before you could answer, the door creaked open just enough for his head to peek through. His dark eyes locked onto yours, scanning your face with quiet concern.

“Thought so,” he said softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything else right away, just walked over and sat beside you on the bed, leaving a small but comforting distance between you.

You stared at the floor, ashamed to even look at him. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, though the tremble in your voice gave you away.

Megumi let out a quiet sigh, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. “You don’t have to say that,” he said, his voice calm and even. “I can tell you’re not.”

You bit your lip, feeling the tears start to build. “I hate this,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I hate feeling like I’m stuck in my own head, and I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Megumi glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t have to figure it out alone,” he said after a moment. “I know it feels like you’re drowning, but you’re not. I’m right here.”

His words made something in your chest ache, and you let out a shaky breath. “I just—I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Megumi said firmly, finally turning to face you. “Don’t even think that. Everyone needs help sometimes. Even me.”

You blinked, looking at him in surprise. “You?”

He gave a small, almost self-deprecating smile. “Yeah. You’ve seen how I can get—shutting people out, trying to deal with everything on my own. It doesn’t work.” He hesitated, his voice softening. “You’ve been there for me before. Let me be here for you now.”

The tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over, and Megumi didn’t hesitate. He scooted closer, his hand reaching out to gently rest on yours. His touch was warm and grounding, steady in a way that made your chest feel a little less tight.

“Breathe with me,” he said quietly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Just focus on my voice.”

You nodded, following his lead as he guided you through slow, deep breaths. His voice was calm, his presence unshakable, and gradually, the suffocating weight in your chest began to ease.

“Better?” he asked after a while, his tone gentle but hopeful.

You nodded again, wiping at your tear-streaked face. “A little,” you admitted.

Megumi gave you a small smile, the kind that was rare but always genuine. “Good. It doesn’t have to be perfect right now. Just one step at a time.”

He stayed by your side, his hand still resting over yours, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again. With Megumi’s quiet strength grounding you, the storm in your mind didn’t seem so impossible to face.

Yuji itadori — You sat on the couch, knees pulled to your chest, staring blankly at the floor. Your chest felt heavy, and your mind raced with thoughts you couldn’t untangle. Everything felt like too much, and no matter how hard you tried to calm down, nothing seemed to work.

The sound of the door opening barely registered in your mind.

“Hey, I’m back!” Yuji’s cheerful voice echoed through the room, followed by the sound of a bag hitting the floor. “I got your favorite snack—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw you. “Wait…what’s wrong?”

You didn’t look up, trying to blink back the tears threatening to fall. “It’s nothing,” you murmured, though your shaky voice betrayed you.

Yuji was by your side in an instant, crouching in front of you with a concerned expression. “Hey,” he said softly, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Don’t say that. If something’s bothering you, it’s not nothing.”

You shook your head, burying your face in your knees. “I just… I don’t know how to explain it. My head won’t stop racing, and everything feels like it’s too much.”

Yuji sat down on the floor in front of you, crossing his legs and resting his arms on his knees. “Okay,” he said gently. “Then you don’t have to explain it. But you don’t have to deal with it alone either, okay? I’m here.”

You peeked at him through watery eyes. “I don’t want to ruin your day, Yuji. You shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

He frowned, his face softening as he reached out to rest a hand on your knee. “Hey, don’t say that. You’re never ruining my day, okay? You’re important to me. If you’re feeling bad, then I want to help.”

His words broke something in you, and a tear slid down your cheek. Yuji’s expression didn’t falter. Instead, he smiled, soft and reassuring. “You know what we’ll do? We’ll take it one step at a time. No pressure, no rush. Just little steps until it feels better.”

“How?” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“First, we breathe,” he said, shifting to sit beside you on the couch. “Come on, match my breathing. In for four, out for four.” He exaggerated each breath, making it easy for you to follow.

You mimicked him hesitantly, the steady rhythm of his breathing drawing you out of your head little by little.

“See? You’re doing great,” he said, beaming at you once you both settled into a calmer pace. “Now, do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want to sit here for a while?”

You glanced at him, his warm smile easing the tightness in your chest. “Just…sit here for now.”

“Okay,” he said simply. Without hesitation, Yuji wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you gently against him. “We’ll just sit. I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The warmth of his embrace and the steady rhythm of his breathing grounded you in the moment. With Yuji by your side, the weight pressing down on you didn’t feel quite as heavy. He didn’t need to say anything else—his presence alone was enough to remind you that you weren’t alone.

[ylangelegy]

like a python 🧊 jihoon x reader.

jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him.

★ rockstar!jihoon x reader. ★ word count: 2.5k ★ genre/warnings: alternate universe: non-idol. jihoon-centric, childhood friends, yearning... so much yearning, young k makes a cameo, jihoon is a bit lame (affectionately), cussing/swearing. mentions of alcohol, food. ★ footnotes: got7 dropped winter heptagon and it's all i can think about. wrote this in one sitting as a show of gratitude to @chugging-antiseptic-dye for introducing me to these boys. haven't done a song fic in a hot minute, but for lee jihoon and got7? anything. shoutout to igot7_MarKP on twitter for the english translation of the lyrics.

🎧 now playing: python by got7 — i know i'm an icon, watch me with the lights on; but she got a hold on me like a python.

▸ MUSIC IS HOW I'VE BEEN VENTING NOW... OVERSEAS, I'M SELLING OUT.

It’s pretty surreal to Jihoon, being in a room with some of the biggest names in rock.

In the past hour alone, he’s met Alex Turner, Dave Grohl, and— holy shit, is that Hayley Williams? Jihoon is getting dizzy, and it’s not only because of all the secondhand smoke he’s inhaled since he got to the Rolling Stones afterparty. 

The best of the best. That’s what the invitation had boasted. It was the scene’s most coveted event, and Jihoon somehow made it to the guest list. 

Unbidden, your voice nags from somewhere in the back of his mind. You’re the best, Jihoon-ah. 

He shakes his head, like he’s physically trying to get away from the thought of you. This had been happening a lot more as of late. Fleeting moments wherein he’d imagine how you would react, what you’d say. 

But Jihoon always catches himself. He snaps himself out of it and goes back to recording, goes back to performing. 

God, he needs to get it together. He’s starting to regret saying ‘no’ to the cigarette Ely Buendia was offering him earlier. 

(In Jihoon’s defense, he didn’t smoke often. He didn’t want to fuck up his vocal chords. He had a one-cigarette-a-year rule, and he wasn’t about to use it now. It was only January; who knew what else the year would throw him?) 

Jihoon is contemplating some other vice— maybe he can go grab another beer— when he feels a tap on his shoulder. At the sight of who came up to him, Jihoon immediately folds into a bow. 

“There’s no need for that,” Younghyun says, equal parts amused and embarrassed. “We’re all the same here, yeah?” 

Jihoon pulls himself to his full height. “Not… really,” he says lamely, and then he immediately launches into mumbled apologies when he realizes how he might have sounded. 

It wasn’t that Jihoon thought he was better than his peers. Hell, he knew that he was the least important person in the room. That’s what he meant; they were not all the same, because Jihoon still had a long ways to go. 

Especially when compared to rock icon Young K, who is— gracefully— taking Jihoon’s awkwardness in stride. 

“You’re holding up a lot better than me,” Younghyun muses. “At my first afterparty, I threw up on Rupam Islam.” 

“No.” 

“Yes, unfortunately. He was very nice about it, though.” 

Jihoon lets out a stutter of a laugh. He’s never been a fan of small talk, but he clings to it now like a lifeline. “Does it get easier?” he asks. 

Younghyun’s eyebrows raise. “Throwing up on rockstars?” 

“No, no–”

“I was kidding,” Younghyun says in between chuckles. His expression is a little more pensive when he goes on, “I can’t say for sure that it gets easier, but you learn to deal with it.” 

You learn to deal with it. Jihoon can almost laugh at just how accurate that is. It seems applicable to every aspect of his life— including missing you. 

Jihoon winces. Younghyun notices. 

The older man doesn’t comment on it, probably thinks it’s something else entirely. Younghyun doesn’t flinch away, either, when Jihoon nervously says, “Can I ask you another question?” 

“Ask away,” says Younghyun. “I’ve got nothing better to do.” 

What is Jihoon doing? He doesn’t know either, but it’s either this or fight off the urge to run through a pack of Marlboros. “How do you cope,” he starts slowly, “with… feelings?” 

A beat. Crap. Jihoon realizes he definitely could have phrased that better, because Younghyun is now looking at him with an expression of mild confusion. 

Jihoon backtracks. “You�� we— go through a lot in this field of work. Like, a lot. And you— fuck, fine, I’m— grateful for it, really, I swear. But there’s just… so much other things, too, aside from the gratitude. How do you cope with those?”

Jihoon knows he probably looks and sounds like a trainwreck in his bid to be deliberately vague. By some miracle, Younghyun at least seems to understand what Jihoon is trying to say.

Younghyun’s lip quirks to one side as he thinks of his response. The silence stretches uncomfortably long, but then he gives an answer that’s the last thing Jihoon could have expected. 

“I write,” Younghyun says. 

Jihoon blinks once. Then twice. 

“You write,” he repeats, and the former nods. 

“It’s all in my discography. The anger, the heartbreak, the love.” Younghyun raises his shoulders in a shrug. “I’ve written nearly 200 songs, and all of them are just— that. Questions. Answers to questions. Feelings and stories.” 

It’s so simple, so obvious. It’s like a glaring traffic sign, like something that every musician should know and do.

Put it in a song. Perform it for thousands and leave the muse none the wiser. Profit. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Jihoon had done it a fair amount of times, but never had he considered putting you to pen and paper. The prospect of it makes something in his chest thrum. 

“I—” He clears his throat. “I think I have to go, sunbaenim. It was nice seeing you.” 

A hint of humor glints in Younghyun’s eye, like he’s somewhat aware of the fact he’s witnessing something unravel. “‘Younghyun’ is fine,” he chirps. “And it was nice seeing you, too, Jihoon. Take care of yourself.” 

The words— take care of yourself— are supposed to be a platitude. To Jihoon, it feels like a tall ask. 

▸ I'M TOURING THE WORLD BUT I'M MISSING THE ONE WHO HELD IT DOWN.

Jihoon is exhausted. 

As much as he wants to say that he’s never been this tired in his life, it’d probably be a lie. He’d make the claim, hit the road, then end up crashing out saying the same damn thing. He’s seen this film before; he knows how it ends. 

He falls back on his hotel bed after his shower. A low groan escapes him, and he sends up a silent prayer to all the higher powers there are. Thank you for sheets with a 300-500 thread count. Thank you for air-conditioning. Thank you for warm showers and Listerine. 

Despite his fatigue, Jihoon can’t just go to sleep. Post-show adrenaline always took a couple of hours to wear off.

He briefly contemplates his options. Write a lyric or two? Watch a shitty Netflix movie? Stare out the hotel window until his eyes can’t stay open anymore? 

None of the above, it seems, as he reaches for his phone. 

Jihoon has never been active on SNS; he just couldn’t bring himself to care about things like TikTok trends or Twitter ‘beef’. It’s a constant thorn in his PR team’s side. There is one thing that he bothers to check, though, and God forbid he deny himself the simple pleasure of some good ol’ fashioned pining. 

He’s been on your Instagram page enough times that it’s the first thing that shows when he goes to the search bar. It’s the only thing that shows, really, which gives some pretty good sense of where his head is at. 

Your profile loads. There’s no new post, no recent story. Jihoon is both disappointed and relieved.

No news is good news, he thinks to himself as he leisurely scrolls through the photos he’s already seen a dozen times before. You, feeding sidewalk cats. You, sipping tea at a cafe. You, in all the places that were once Jihoon’s, too. The beaches, the hiking trails, the restaurant in your shared neighborhood. 

Jihoon opens that particular post. Even though he’s watched your life in squares for the better half of the past three years, this is the one photo that always has him feeling a pang of… something. 

Because Jihoon can imagine it— being at that restaurant with you. The two of you had discovered it together, had pooled your measly school allowances to afford the bokguk and ganjang gejang. 

He imagines being there with this older version of you, being the one snapping the picture that’d find a spot on your feed. He can see it so clearly in his mind’s eye that if he really, really tries, it begins to look more like a memory than a daydream.

But he’s not in Busan, not even in Korea. He’s in the United States instead, where he has ten stops before heading to Canada and Europe. 

Sold-out stadiums. Thousands upon thousands of adoring fans. 

All the food that he could possibly want, and yet it’s pufferfish soup and soy sauce crabs that he’s looking for. 

Every person that he could possibly have, and yet. And yet. 

Jihoon huffs out a frustrated exhale. He’s tired, which he swears makes him delusional. 

He casts his phone aside, blissfully ignorant to the way his finger double taps his screen as he does. 

Halfway across the world, your phone pings

woozi_universefactory ✓ liked your post. 

▸ I'VE BEEN RUNNING BACKWARDS, RUNNING BACKWARDS LIKE A MARATHON.

The push notification glaring up at Jihoon looks a lot like a bomb that’s about to explode.

Jihoon feels like it’s a bomb, because he refuses to believe that after over a year of absolutely nothing, you’ve messaged first. You’ve messaged first. 

He double, triple checks his calendar. It’s neither of your birthdays. It’s not a holiday, either. Is it Chuseok? No— that doesn’t make sense. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he chides himself under his breath. It’s a text. Nothing more, nothing less.

Jihoon opens the notification. 

And then his heart just. 

Stops. 

You’d sent two messages— the first, being the post that had him spiraling last night. It’s the proceeding message that has Jihoon hoping the ground will swallow him whole. 

Stalking me, Jihoon-ah? 

Holy shit.

Jihoon types out at least three different messages, from Are you a fly on my wall to Is there a new Instagram feature I don’t know about to What happened to “hello, how are you”? 

In the end, he only sends back a single question mark. When he opens the offending post, he immediately sees his transgression. 

Jihoon hadn’t liked the photo before last night. He didn’t like much posts to begin with. How— When— 

His phone pings. He’s never been so thankful that he mostly opts to get room service for breakfast, because the squeak that he lets out is definitely not very rockstar-like. Jihoon fumbles, and he ends up opening your DM before he can psych himself up for it. 

LOL. Playing dumb doesn’t suit you, you say. 

Damn you and your ability to render him speechless. Jihoon wonders if he can get away with not responding, with getting back to you a couple of days later and blaming his work. 

Except. 

Jihoon’s fingers slowly move across his screen. 

It was a good post, he says. 

It was a post from a year ago, you answer. 

So? He throws in an emoji of a man shrugging for good measure. Jihoon never uses emojis, but he can make some exceptions. 

Your respond, So, stalking. You were stalking me. 

Jihoon knows he’s digging a hole for himself, knows he’s going to stay up several nights thinking of just how stupid he is. If he were a stronger man, he’d pull the plug on this conversation and that’d be it. You wouldn’t bug him. He would maybe write a song about this moment. The world would go on. 

But he can hear you. 

In the messages, in the words on his screen. He can hear your voice, the way you’d smile or laugh or tease. How you’d say his name in that sing-song tone he once pretended to hate. 

He hears you in your messages, and he’ll live with the secondhand shame if it means that he gets to keep on listening. 

Not stalking, he shoots back. Just checking in. 

Ah, you say. Because you missed me?~

Despite himself, he scoffs. You’ve always been so shameless. It didn’t matter to you that he was WOOZI the rockstar; to you, he would always be Jihoon who lived three houses down. 

As if, he says to your teasing.

You don’t respond anymore. You don’t even read the message, because Jihoon doesn’t see the little ‘Seen’ under his last message.

He waits for it for a minute. Then five minutes. Then seven minutes. He stops checking at the thirteen-minute mark, because he likes to believe he’s no longer a high schooler with a raging crush on the girl next door. 

He’s a grown man. He’s WOOZI, for Christ’s sake. 

He can’t keep coming back to you.

▸ I GAVE YOU MY TIME WHEN I DIDN'T HAVE MUCH; ALL OF MY FEELINGS, SWEPT UNDER THE RUG.

Except he does. 

WOOZI may not want to. WOOZI may be the bassist writing songs about the past in hopes of leaving things in the past, but Jihoon is a different story. 

Jihoon texts you the moment he lands in Gimhae International Airport. Jihoon stands outside your front door— definitely jetlagged, probably in need of a shower— with his luggage in one hand and his phone in the other. 

Jihoon acts like it’s the world’s biggest inconvenience when he tells you, “Come on, then.” 

The two of you get the crabs and soup. He refuses to talk about his time away; he contents himself with listening, like he always does, and you fill the silence with babble. Your desk job, your parents’ nagging, your hobbies and side hustles. 

“Probably not as interesting as your life,” you joke after a particularly long-winded anecdote about a delivery rider who got your address wrong. 

Jihoon neither confirms nor denies the statement. He only raises one eyebrow and gives you a wordless gesture with his hand. Go on anyway, he’s saying, and you take the cue. 

The meal ends. Jihoon invites you for coffee. Then ice cream. Then a walk. 

“This is very suspicious.” 

Jihoon can’t help it; a snort of laughter escapes him at your words. “Can’t a guy take a friend out to lunch?” he asks humorlessly. 

“And dinner,” you note. 

“And dinner, yes.” 

“And dessert.” 

“And dessert.” 

The two of you are taking the long way home. There’s something to be said about how Jihoon drags his feet, about how you walk like you’re not on borrowed time. Even your conversation moves like you’re beating around the bush.

There is an elephant in the room and Jihoon is done pretending that it’s not there. That it hasn’t been there since the day you two met in primary school, since the first time he held your hand as a teenager, since he became a musician and every song he performed became about you.

Jihoon doesn’t know how many years of pining he has left in him. 

“Are you dying?” 

Your blasé question draws a bark of laughter from him. “Jesus, no,” he says. “Do I have to be dying to want to see you?” 

You don’t answer right away. Jihoon once again has that feeling that he’s said something wrong, something loaded, but you save him from overthinking when you respond with, “You wanted to see me?” 

There it is. That teasing tone, that hint of a smile. 

You bump your shoulder against his. “You missed me, Jihoon-ah. Admit it.” 

And Jihoon is done, Jihoon is tired, Jihoon is still yours after all this time.

“Yeah,” he finally, finally says. “I missed you.” 

[captain-bubble-wrap]

You have to do it! Grocery shopping with Quinn! 🛒 ☺️

Because of those shopping gifs, huh? I know the ones!

"Ready, babe?" Quinn spoke louder than his usual, putting on his flat-billed hat in the mirror while he waited for you at the door. He had been ready to go for a few minutes but would never purposefully rush you, especially for something as mundane as grocery shopping. He really didn't want to go but the house was looking a little bare and the fridge was near depleted of anything fresh. It was simply time to go.

Quinn had told you that he was fine going solo but you had insisted on keeping him company, and didn't think it fair to make him go alone when you used equally as much of everything as he did, if not more especially when he was on the road.

"Yeah, I'm ready!" You said, hurrying from somewhere else in the apartment. You were still buttoning your coat when you got to his side.

"You look cute," he commented, wrapping his arms around you for a moment.

You smiled, "Thanks, babe! You don't look too bad yourself!"

Quinn would laugh and give you a quick kiss before opening the door for you. You had no idea where the two of you were headed, but anywhere with Quinn was a good place to be. Outside, it was much colder than it was normally due to the Artic blast moving through the region, and it made being outside quite uncomfortable. Thankfully, you wouldn't have too far to walk, in any of your errand stops, but when the air hurt to breathe -- it was never ideal.

"I don't think I've ever missed the rain so much in my life," you joked, climbing into the passenger seat.

"This isn't my favourite either," he replied clicking both seat warmers on as soon as the car was started. "Won't take long now. You know you can stay home, babe. No sense in you being cold if you don't have to."

"I know, but I don't want you to go alone!"

Quinn shook his head as he smiled, "Babe--"

"I know, I know, you don't mind," you mocked him playfully. "But I mind, so I'm going with you!"

"You're ridiculous," he laughed. "Alright, well, if you're sure. Off we go."

- - -

"I'm going to drop you at the door then I'll go find a parking spot," Quinn said, pulling into the lot. "And before you say anything, I want you to go inside and be warm."

Mustering the deepest pout you could, you looked at Quinn as the car came to a stop, but he wasn't having any part of it. "Quinn--"

"Babe, just trust me, please."

"Fiiiiiine," you whined, slipping out of the car and going into the store alone. You'd stay just inside the automatic doors and wait to see where he parked. Everyone and their mothers seemed to be out shopping today, forcing Quinn to have to park in the near back lot. He looked so miserable as he rushed toward the store, trying to duck down in to his coat as his hands were buried in his pockets. When the double doors opened, he'd make his way to you, his cheeks red from the harsh air.

"Brrr!" Quinn remarked, putting an arm around you. "It's cold in here, too!"

"Says the hockey player!"

He laughed, sheepishly, "It's not that cold on the ice like it is outside!"

"Fair enough," you teased. "Basket or cart?"

"Probably cart. Stock you up before I go out of town next week."

You looked down at being reminded that Quinn would soon be leaving for more games away from home. Your bed wouldn't be as warm, there would be no one to share a bath with before bed, no one to laugh with over dinner in the evenings, and the apartment would soon be deafly quiet. Being unable to keep your expression from dropping, you would turn your face away from him for a moment to keep from crying in public.

Quinn, always in tune with your usual moods would notice this change and would ask you about it after returning from getting you both a cart. "You got quiet, babe. What's wrong?"

"Nothing," you mumbled, picking up a random item to look at it as if you were interested in taking it home.

"I didn't think you liked peanut butter," he quipped, leaning over your shoulder at the package of fudge you were holding.

"I-- don't," you said, unable to lie, and putting it back on the display you had robbed it from. Your cover was blown before you could even get behind it. Damn Quinn for being so quick sometimes, though you knew he hated when you kept things from you, namely when things were bothering you.

"Did I say something?" Quinn questioned, his hand resting on your waist, hoping you'd look at him.

"No, baby, it's me being sad over you leaving," you finally confessed, only looking at him after you had spoken your truth. "I'm just-- being a baby."

"You're my baby," he would whisper in your ear, in the hopes that it might make you smile if only because of how cringe it had been. "I know you don't like when I leave, and trust me, I know how it feels."

Your eyes were beginning to sting, fighting against your emotions, "I know it's your job, Quinn. I'm not trying to be one of those girls who comes off all spoiled and selfish. I just-- I just miss you."

Quinn smiled, bringing his lips to your forehead while you still faced him. "I know you do, and I don't think you're being selfish. You understand that this is my life. No one says it's easy, sweetheart."

With a sigh you leaned into him, face buried in the curve of his neck. At the moment, you didn't care that you were in public, having an episode of emotional weakness. You were in Quinn's arms and safe, everyone else could kick rocks. They didn't need to understand.

"Do you want to go home, babe?" He asked, leaning his head against yours.

You wouldn't answer him, you'd just shake your head slightly.

"For what it's worth, I'm not gone yet," he said with a smile in his tone.

This would get you to pull your eyes back to his. He had a point, and one that you were thankful for.

"I sorry, Quinn," you apologized solemnly. "I shouldn't be that way."

He kissed you again, knowing it often fixed things when you were feeling down, but he felt that you were struggling. "You're perfectly fine. I should be more careful with my words."

"You don't need to do that. I'll be okay. Maybe one day it won't hurt as bad-- but...I dunno."

Frowning, Quinn would touch your cheek, but his hands were cold. You'd take it in both of yours and try your best to give him a smile. "I love you. Sorry you have to put up with me like this."

"I just hope I help instead of making you sad."

"You do, I promise."

On that positive note, the two of you would finally get back to the reason of why you were there in the first place. "Should we get to shopping?" He laughed.

"Probably!"

- - -

"Bread?" He asked, standing before a literal wall of options.

"Oh, yeah! Sourdough!"

"Which is--," he stammered, watching you pinpoint the loaf you were after before he could finish his question. "That-- was oddly impressive."

"I know my bread!"

"That you do," he laughed, as you placed in in the cart. "What else do you want?"

Looking at the contents of the cart, you wondered if there was anything else that you needed. There was meat, vegetables and fruit, there were even a couple bottles of wine, and nothing else was ringing in your brain that you needed to get. That would likely hit you only after you were home.

"I can't think of anything. Is there anything you want?"

Quinn looked just as lost as you did which is probably why he laughed at your question. "I can't think of anything either."

"Oh! I know!" You said, excitedly. "I've been craving breaded shrimp!"

"Really?"

"Yeah! Remember those sushi rolls I made with the fried shrimp, avocado and cucumber?"

His face lit up at the mention of sushi, "Those were so good! Are you saying we're having sushi for dinner?"

"Of course!"

- - -

"Here, take my card. I'm going to run out and get the car started and then I'll meet you out front and get them loaded, okay?"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said before placing another kiss your forehead. "Wait for me inside, please."

Not wanting to argue with him when he was being so kind and considerate, you nodded while he headed for the harsh world outside the store. It would take a while to get everything scanned and bagged, but eventually the time had come to brace for going back out into it.

Quinn was right where he said he would be, the silver SUV rolling into view when he saw you waiting there. He'd get out and insist on taking the cart while you got into the warmed interior of the car.

"I can help you," you begged, talking to him from the front seat.

"It's alright, babe, you just sit tight. I'm alright. Hockey player, remember?"

You'd roll your eyes at him while smiling. "I offered."

"I know you did, and I appreciate it."

Once everything was said and done, the heat was set on full as the two of you headed off from the grocery; safe and sound from the blistering wind battering the car.

"Anywhere else we need to go?" He asked, a cold hand finding your thigh.

"I just want to go home."

"Home it is."

[ikkyfics]

Lullaby

dad!Remus Lupin x mom!reader

Summary: The quiet cry woke him. Remus approached cautiously, leaning over her. “Hey, my little star, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” he whispered, his voice so soft it almost got lost in the sound of his breath.

Warnings: fluffy, est. relationship, no use of baby name, no war au, no use of y/n, after hogwarts (obviously)

A/N: just because i couldn't stop thinking about dad!remus

Masterlist

The quiet cry woke him. It wasn’t a loud or desperate sound, just enough to cut through the silence of the early morning and pierce the few seconds of peace the house seemed to hold. Remus slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the dimness of the room, and looked at you. You were still fast asleep beside him, your face relaxed, one hand gently resting on the pillow. He stayed still for a moment, contemplating the calm on your face, before carefully getting up. He didn’t want to wake you.

He walked down the hall, his bare feet making almost no sound against the wooden floor. The cry had faded to a low whimper, but it was still there, insistent, as if the baby knew he was coming. Pushing open the slightly ajar door to her room, the soft light from the nightlight revealed the small form in the crib. She squirmed restlessly, tiny fists clenched, her eyes still damp.

Remus approached cautiously, leaning over her. “Hey, my little star, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” he whispered, his voice so soft it almost got lost in the sound of his breath. With a skill he never imagined he’d have before becoming a father, he lifted her into his arms, holding her with the tenderness she seemed to require, as though she were made of fine glass.

She was so small, so absurdly small, that he always found himself wondering how something so fragile could exist. He adjusted her little body against his chest, feeling her tiny fingers close around one of the folds of his shirt. As he rocked her gently, he looked at her face, the features still so delicate, so full of possibilities. “Do you have any idea how loved you are?” he whispered. “No, of course not. But you are. So much it almost hurts.”

He continued rocking her softly, his large hands contrasting with her little body. Every movement felt like a miracle. He looked at his own hands, marked with old scars, the uneven lines crossing the skin like memories of another life. A life where he never could have imagined being here, in this house, holding his daughter in his arms. “You know, sometimes I still think this is a dream. That I’ll wake up and all of this will just be something I made up to feel less alone.”

He let out a low laugh, almost humorless, but the little one responded with a soft sound, as if trying to talk to him. “Ah, so you are really here, huh?” he said, squeezing her a little tighter against him. “You and your mum… you’ve made everything so real. So much better.”

His thoughts drifted to you, sleeping in the room next door. He remembered so many nights when you simply held him, even when he tried to hide the shadows in his mind. You always seemed to know. Always seemed to understand. “She’s amazing, you know?” he confided in the baby, as if she could understand him. “Your mum. She loves me in a way I never thought possible. And you? You’re proof of that. Proof that I’m not alone anymore.”

The baby began to relax, her little body growing heavier in his arms. He sat in the rocking chair beside the crib, adjusting her so she could rest against him. The room seemed wrapped in a bubble of calm, only the light sound of her breathing and the creak of the chair filling the space.

He looked at her one more time, admiring the fine lashes, the perfect curve of her cheeks. How could someone so small carry so much love? It was almost overwhelming. He leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You’ll never need to doubt that, you know? How much you are loved. I promise.”

The almost imperceptible sound of the door creaking made him raise his head, his senses still sharp from the restlessness of the days following the full moon. For a moment, his body tensed, but then he saw her. You were there, standing in the doorway, your face softly lit by the light of the nightlight. Your eyes held concern, but also something else—something he recognized, and that made his heart tighten: pure love.

“You should be resting,” you said, your voice soft to not disturb the little one.

He smiled, that smile that always seemed to hold a world of unspoken stories. “And so should you,” he replied, gently rocking the chair while keeping the baby nestled against his chest. “I heard her little cry, and I didn’t want to wake you. You looked so peaceful.”

You moved closer slowly, your eyes fixed on him and the sleeping baby. Each step seemed filled with care, as if you, too, didn’t want to break the magical stillness of the moment. When you reached them, you crouched beside the chair, your hand gently touching his thigh. “Remus…” you began, hesitating but with a voice full of affection. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. It’s been so few days since the last full moon. You need to rest.”

He let out a low laugh, almost inaudible, as he looked at you. “I’m fine,” he said, but the way his eyes darted away for a brief moment gave him away. “Besides, look at her…” He tilted his head to look at the little one in his arms, a soft glow in his eyes. “How could I want to be anywhere else?”

You smiled, but there was a tender weight in your expression. “I heard what you said,” you murmured. He lifted his gaze to you, confused for a moment, until he realized what you were talking about.

“You heard?” he asked, and there was something vulnerable in his voice, something he rarely let show.

You nodded, your eyes beginning to shine with unshed tears. “About how you think this might be a dream… About how you love us. I just want you to know that this is real, Remus. We are real. I am real. And I love you more than anything in this world.”

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he leaned a little forward, until their foreheads almost touched. “I know,” he whispered, his voice so full of emotion it barely came out. “It’s just that… sometimes it’s hard to believe. Not because I doubt you, but because I never thought I deserved something like this. You. Her. All of this.”

Your hand reached up to touch his face, your fingers gliding gently over the stubble that was beginning to form. “You do deserve it, Remus. And I’ll remind you of that every day, if I have to.” Your voice was firm, but full of sweetness, as if each word was a caress.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply, before opening a small, genuine smile. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“Someone has to take care of you, since you insist on taking care of everyone,” you replied, the softness turning into a hint of teasing. He chuckled quietly, and the sound warmed his chest.

“So… do you want to hold her?” he asked, shifting slightly in the chair to lift the baby with care.

You nodded and opened your arms, accepting her as if she were the most precious thing in the world. And, of course, she was. When you held her, she made a soft sound, something between a sigh and a grunt, before snuggling comfortably against you. You looked at her with an expression of pure adoration, your fingers gently stroking her back as she fell back asleep.

Remus watched for a moment, his eyes fixed on you as you rocked the baby with such tenderness that it seemed impossible for it to be anything mundane. It was as if every gesture of yours was a deliberate act of love, something he never failed to notice, even after all this time together. He reached out and adjusted a strand of hair that had fallen across your face, the touch delicate, almost reverent.

You were so close that the space between you seemed to dissolve. He let his arms rest around your body, pulling you gently closer, as if he needed this contact to anchor his own feelings. You leaned against him, the warmth of both of you creating a bubble of comfort around the little one, who was now completely peaceful, nestled in your arms.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. You just looked at her, your faces so close that your breaths mingled. The light from the night lamp bathed the room in a soft glow, making everything even more intimate. The baby moved her little hand, letting out an almost imperceptible sigh, and both of you smiled at the same time, as if it were the most extraordinary thing you had ever witnessed.

Remus tilted his face to the side, his lips brushing lightly against your temple as he whispered, “Thank you.”

The word was so simple, but the weight of it made you close your eyes for a moment, absorbing everything it carried. It wasn’t just a thank you for that moment. It was for everything. For you being there, for her existence, for everything he had never dared believe he could have.

“Why?” you asked softly, turning your face just enough to meet his eyes. There was a soft gleam in them, something that made your heart race even after so many moments like that.

“For this,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion. “For you. For her. For us. I still wonder how I got so lucky… how the universe was generous enough to give me something like this.” He shook his head, as if he couldn’t find the words to express what he felt. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This complete.”

You smiled, leaning in to brush your lips against his in a light kiss, but one full of meaning. “I feel lucky too, you know? Every day. For you, for her, for everything we’ve built together.” Your voice was soft, but every word carried the weight of an unshakable truth.

You stayed like that for a few more minutes, his arms around you, his hands covering yours as you still held the baby. The world outside seemed distant, almost nonexistent. Everything that mattered was right there, in that room.

When the little one finally fell completely asleep, you and Remus exchanged a knowing glance, as if you both knew exactly what to do without needing to say anything. He leaned in to take the baby back with all the care, holding her against his chest while you adjusted the blanket in the crib. Both of your movements were synchronized, a perfect reflection of the partnership you had built.

As he placed her in the crib, he lingered for a second longer, his fingers gently brushing her cheek. He let out a soft sigh before straightening up, passing his arms around you again as you both pulled away.

“I love you both,” he said, his voice low but so full of feeling that it made your eyes burn. You rested your head against his shoulder, your arms around his waist, as if you wanted to hold him as close as possible.

“And we love you, Remus,” you replied, squeezing him a little tighter. “Always.”

You stayed there for a while longer, just enjoying the comfortable silence, each other’s presence, and the little miracle you had before you. Everything felt so right, so perfect in that moment, that neither of you wanted to break the magic.

[ch6rm]

✧ ࣪˖ how angel!reader & dealer!chris met

˖ soph's note yayyy first blurb about this au, it's a bit longer than i intended (oops) but more coming soon i promise <3

the music thudded through the walls, the house packed with people you didn’t know. it wasn’t your scene—not really. your friend had begged you to come, promising it would be fun. instead, it was a bunch of people spilling drinks everywhere and messily making out in every corner of the house. not really your jam, but you made the best out of it.

you wove through the crowd, flashing friendly smiles and striking up conversations with anyone who didn't seem insanely drunk. you had no idea where your friend disappeared to—probably off to hook up with some guy. you figured you might as well make some new friends while you were at it.

after chatting with a couple of people about nothing in particular, you spotted a quieter corner of the house. as you approached, you noticed a guy lounging on a worn-out sofa, a back beanie on his head and a joint resting between his fingers. another guy sitting beside him slid him some cash before getting up and strolling away. it clicked in your head, and you realized they were probably doing some sort of drug deal. maybe you should have walked away, but there was something intriguing about him, and you found yourself walking over.

he looked up, anticipating the sight of someone wanting to make a deal, but instead, he was met with a girl who looked way too carefree for this scene, bright smile cutting through dim light of the room.

"can i sit?" you asked, watching as his eyebrows shot up in slight surprise. you almost expected him to say no, but after a moment he gestured with his hand and invited you to take a seat. you settled down beside him, the worn fabric of the couch slightly rough against your skin. he didn't say a word as you sat, fiddling with the lighter in his hand. you figured he probably didn't want some random girl sitting down next to him, no intention of buying anything he's got, but you couldn't help but steal glances at him, intrigued by his laid-back demeanor.

he finally looked over at you, and there was something in his gaze—a mix of curiosity and something else you couldn’t quite place. “what’s your deal?” he asked. you blinked at him, caught off guard by the bluntness of his question.

“my deal?”

“yeah,” he said, nodding toward the crowd. “why're you sitting here?”

you shrugged, offering a small smile, unfazed by his tone. "why not? i was bored of walking around.”

he hummed, taking a slow drag from his joint. the smoke curled up into the air, mingling with the heavy beat of the music. “so, you sat next to a stranger with a joint and a wad of cash? bold choice.”

you pursed your lips at his statement, before glancing around the room. after a moment of silence, you looked back at him and spoke up. "okay... well, we don't have to be strangers. what's your name?"

he raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise flickering in his eyes. he had expected you to take the hint and leave. “chris,” he replied, the edge in his voice still present. “and you really think it’s safe to sit here?”

you almost laugh at his question, a smile finding it's way to your face. “safe?” you echoed, not missing a beat. “oh, come on. what’s the worst that could happen? you sell me some bad stuff?”

chris let out a low chuckle, clearly amused despite himself. “yeah, that’s definitely one way to look at it.”

“well, i’m not too worried about it. i don't get into that stuff.” you said, gesturing toward the table in front of him. a silence settled between you again, and you realized he wasn't much of a talker. that didn't stop you though. after his lack of response, you spoke up again and told him your name.

eventually, the tension in chris’s posture began to fade away—the edge in his voice disappearing as you began to chat. once you started talking, it was kind of hard to get you to stop. he didn’t offer much at first, but his occasional chuckles and quiet remarks kept the conversation moving.

“are you always this chatty with strangers?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

"sure, but aren't strangers anymore, remember?" you say.

he raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “guess not,” he muttered, leaning back against the couch and still watching you with that same curious look. "what are we then? friends?" he says, his tone laced with slight sarcasm.

you grinned, "yeah, friends.”

there was a brief silence as chris looked at you, like he was contemplating something. after a moment, he let out a quiet laugh. “alright, sure. friends it is.” he wasn’t one to make friends at parties where he was dealing—especially not sweet girls like you. but, for some reason, the idea didn’t seem all that bad.

as the night dragged on, you checked your phone, realizing it was getting late. “i should probably head out,” you said, standing up. chris looked at you for a moment before he stood up and flicked the ash off his joint, setting it in the ashtray.

“i’ll walk you out.”

you raised an eyebrow, surprised by his proposition. “don't worry, you don’t have to-”

"it's fine, c'mon," he shrugged nonchalantly, already beginning to walk off. you smiled at his words, immediately nodding.

“okay!”

you both made your way through the house, the noise of the party fading as you stepped outside. the cool night air hit you, and soon, you were standing next to your car.

“well,” you said, unlocking the door. “i'll see you around, then?” you hoped you would—he was the only person at this party you’d actually enjoyed talking to, and you'd even forgotten the part where he was a drug dealer. normally, you’d be a little apprehensive, but with him, you didn’t feel an ounce of fear.

chris gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable as he watched you. "yeah," he said, his voice low. "see you around."

© ch6rm

🏷️ @sweetestpoetic | comment here or interact with this post to be added to my taglist

[seungfl0wer]

*Daddy Felix*

Daddy Series:

Bangchan | Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Han | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

Contains Smut:

-💜

•So. So loving and supportive.

•You mean so very much to him, he talks about you so often.

•He’ll send you all the money in his account if you needed it.

•Loves taking you shopping but one of his favorites is taking you to build a bear.

•You both have a couple of sets made on your anniversary’s together.

•Stuffie king tbh.

•Also while on tour he’ll buy you so much.

•”oh they’d love this” he’d always say not even caring about the price.

•He’s constantly giving you little check in through the days as well. “How’s my darling angel doing today? Did you eat? Have you drank any water?”

•Never lie to him about it either cause somehow he always knows.

•Will send food to your house on the spot if he thinks you haven’t eaten.

•Along with that he loves leaving you sticky notes around so you could find them.

•They’re always super sweet things or just words of affirmation.

•He loves having you cuddled up to him while he games.

•If you play together he goes easy on you sometimes it’s just to see you pout knowing he’s not giving it his all.

•Oh and pouting? It could either get you away with anything or nothing.

•”Is my angel pouting? You know it’ll get stuck that way” he’d laugh.

•When you’re giving him attitude he kinda just finds it cute and laughs.

•Which can make it worse sometimes.

•He’s not one to shy away from cupping your face and scolding you in a sweet but oh so stern teasing way.

•One of his favorite ways to punish you is having you sit on “time out” while talking to you.

•He really likes to get under your skin at this time. Sitting beside you biting at your neck but part of the punishment is not being allowed to touch him.

ੈ♡˳Smut Below

•This goes for sexy time. If you were bad he’d make you sit on the bed/couch. While he slowly stokes himself.

•You’re gonna have to give a good apology and beg for him to let you touch him.

•It won’t take much to let him but on some days he’ll keep going until he cums making you clean it up before he helps you out. Maybe. If you’re good.

•Absolutely loves. Loves role play.

•Loves having you dress up it makes him absolutely feral.

•He also is one of them that likes the remote vibe while out.

•He’s evil fr. He’ll wait till you’re talking to turn it the whole way up.

•He might be an angel 80% of the time but god is he a little shit.

•Loves restraining you. Loves to overstimulate you seeing how many orgasms he can pull out of you.

•He talks so much too.

•”Darling if you can’t take it don’t give me attitude next time”

•”Too much? My love I know you can take it. Come on be a good girl for me”

•”God you look so beautiful, I’m gonna ruin you”

•”You know daddy loves you right? Yeah? He loves you and this perfect hole”

•Aftercare is full of talking and loving words.

•One of his favorite things to do is running a nice bath having you both lay in it together.

•His arms wrapped around you as he kisses your shoulder telling you he loves you.

•He’s a top one while doing the deed asking if you’re alright. He knows your limits so he doesn’t do it as often but there’s at least once or twice he still asks.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget @0omillo0 @jellymochii @stilltrynafuckingtumble @catlove83 @delulkpopstan143

[cutehoons02]

Run through my heart

*pairing: illegal racer driver Jungwon x good Girl

*trope: frat/bad boy x good girl

*synopsis: Jungwon at only 20 is in the top 5 of the state for being one of the drivers of illegal races all over Korea but what would happen when your best friend and Jungwon’s best friend’s girlfriend invited you to see an illegal race? Jungwon is totally the opposite of your ideal boyfriend but with his bad boy charm but also gentlamen vibes you will be able to not fall for his charm?

*tags: A lot of humor,fluffy,jungwon loves to flirt with girls especially with the protagonist, pervy Jungwon, both the protagonist and jungwon love to tease each other, masturbation (f. receives it in public) fingering, pussy drinking,unprotected sex (don’t horny ppl)+18,pet names (good girl,princess) (wildcat)

(English is not my native language)

10.5k (🐈)

💌The request and ideas were written by @jayjw16enxp for this story (thanks a lot for your help)

The smell of burnt tires permeated the cold night air, mixing with the metallic scent of petrol. The headlights of the illuminated cars created light games that made the road look like a movie scene. You were standing next to your best friend, hands crossed on your chest in your padded leather jacket, You were grumpy since your best friend in the car had told you that for that night you would not go to Karaoke and eat fried chicken but to see Jay’s bff running and you had a skeptical look on cars in line.

"I don’t know why I came," you muttered, watching Jay waving animatedly with a group of guys near a black Nissan Skyline. "The underground races? Seriously? This is the height of your genius?" you told your best friend.

Your best friend laughed, settling down next to Jay. 'Come on, relax! It’s just a different evening, try to have some fun!, you’re here with Jay and me, nothing will happen to you, and in less than two hours you’ll be in your warm bed thinking about the adrenaline that you’ve experienced, trust me for once, Y/n'

"Having fun? Getting into trouble? Great idea. If someone from the press studio finds out my scholarship will disappear instantly, I’ll ask for financial damages to your boyfriend full of money." You shook your head, adjusting your hair behind an ear for the nervous. You were about to make more biting jokes when a soft, vaguely amusing voice interrupted his thoughts.

«You don’t seem like the type of place. Who did you take Jay to see an illegal race? The little mouse in the library?»

You snatched him up, and you saw him Jungwon. His eyes were sharp as razor blades, his smile bold and just curved his lips. He wore a leather jacket that reflected the lights of the headlights and leaned with ease to a shiny black car, probably his own a car that looked fast even when it was stationary.

You were caught off guard by her presence for a moment. "I am not," you replied, crossing your arms. "And apparently, you don’t seem like the type to... break the law either."

Jungwon laughed, a low and slightly dangerous sound. «It’s up to someone to add a little adrenaline to these monotonous lives, otherwise you know how boring life would be without a bit of a kick.» He pulled away from the car and approached you slowly, with the cat’s step of who knows exactly what effect it has. «And then, it is not so bad, right? Look at this crowd, the energy. Aren’t you a little curious to feel your blood pumping much stronger inside you especially your body to make you feel the sensation of adrenaline, of the anxiety and fear of being discovered in such a place where surely good girls like you should not be?»

"Not enough to put my life on the line for a four-wheeled ego race or to risk my money on a guy who’s gonna be even smaller than me," you said, clenching your lips.

Your words, however, did not shake him at all. He seemed to enjoy himself even more. He leaned slightly towards you, his eyes as bright as those of a cat having fun with its prey. «Interesting,» he said quietly. «Usually people either fear me or admire me. You, on the other hand... You’re a beautiful mystery, who would have thought that the good girl had such a sharp temper.»

You raised an eyebrow, determined not to be intimidated. "Maybe because I’m not interested in impressing a guy who thinks he’s a hero just 'cause he can drive fast'."

Jungwon stepped back, raising his hands in surrender, but the smile never left his face. «Touché. But don’t underestimate the speed. It’s a feeling that changes you and makes you feel alive. Maybe you should try it at least once.»

"It will never happen," you replied

«Never say» he muttered with a small smile before a voice called his name in the distance. He turned, gazing at the crowd, then looked back at you. «Hold on to your skepticism, 'good girl'. Who knows, maybe one day you’ll change your mind.»

And with that phrase and a smile full of arrogance, Jungwon walked away, leaving you with a mixture of irritation and something more difficult to define. Something that made you feel a shiver down your back, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

"God, it’s unbearable," you mumbled between your teeth as your best friend burst out laughing next to you.

'Unbearable, of course,' said your friend, giving you an elbow. 'But admit it, he has left you speechless. Both because he knows his stuff but also because he is crazy hot with that bad boy aura but at the same time with those cat eyes that look at you attentively as if you were his next prey'

You’re sunburned, your cheeks are starting to pinch. "Don’t even joke about it."

But in your stomach, a spark had been lit, and you weren’t sure that you could put it out so easily.

The roar of the engines was ringing in the air, covering up any conversation. You watched with wide eyes the cars lined up next to each other, ready to snatch like wild beasts. The headlights lit up the asphalt, and for a moment everything seemed to be still, as if night held its breath.

Jay was standing next to you, his arm resting protectively on your shoulders and his girlfriend’s. <<Relax,>> he said, a reassuring smile on his lips. <<It’s all under control. No one will touch you.>>

"I’m not worried about myself," you mumbled, even though it wasn’t entirely true. You felt like a fish out of water, but there was something in the atmosphere, the electric energy of the crowd, the roar of cars, the tension before the shot that made your heart beat a little faster. Maybe it was fear, or maybe... excitement...that was the feeling Jungwon described earlier?

The deafening music that had flooded the road until a few minutes earlier suddenly ceased, leaving only room for the roar of the engines. All eyes were on the racers. Cameras and phones stood up, ready to capture the start of the race. Jungwon was in the front row, his face calm and focused as he held the wheel.

You couldn’t take your eyes off him. There was something hypnotic about him: that arrogant ease, the confidence in his movements. It was as if the adrenaline ran through his veins instead of blood. He didn’t even seem nervous.

<< So, what do you think? > asked Jay, lowering his voice so that only you could hear him.

"What?" you replied, trying to mask the disturbance.

<<About him. Jungwon. He’s good, isn’t he? >

You shrugged your shoulders, trying to look indifferent. "I don’t know yet. He has to prove it."

Jay laughed, shaking his head. <<You’ll see.>>

The air vibrated when the start signal blinked. The cars sprinted forward with a deafening roar, the tires leaving black tracks on the asphalt. You held your breath as you watched Jungwon take the lead immediately, zigzagging through the corners with impressive precision.

The track was an urban course, full of tight curves and straight lines that tested the skills of each driver. Jungwon steered with almost inhuman ease, cutting corners to the millimeter without ever losing speed.

<< Look how he enters the curve,>> said Jay enthusiastically. << No one drives like him. He is not afraid of anything.>>

You watched him, fascinated, the other cars tried to keep up with him, but nobody could keep up. It was as if the machine were an extension of his body, and he knew exactly how to push it to its limits without ever losing control.

After two laps, it was clear that he would win. No matter how much others tried to get over him, Jungwon was always one step ahead, calculating every move with surgical precision. When he crossed the finish line first, the crowd burst into a roar of exultation.

Jay clapped loudly, pulling you and his girlfriend into a hug. <<I told you!>> he exclaimed, laughing.

You were very quick. "He’s good, I admit. But he’s too young for all this. It’s ridiculous to think he could be so good, he just turned 20."

«It’s not ridiculous,» said a voice behind you.

You turned and there he was, Jungwon, still with his helmet in hand and the arrogant smile that lit up his face. He looked triumphant, but in his eyes, there was a challenge.

«I’m twenty, not ten», he continued, leaning nonchalantly against a parked car. «And it doesn’t matter how old you are when you’re the best.»

You crossed your arms and smiled shamelessly. "The best? In your head, maybe. People talk, you know? Not everyone is so convinced of your abilities."

Jungwon laughed a low and funny sound. «Let them talk. The numbers don’t lie, i'm in the top 5 of the state racers. And trust me, it wasn’t easy to get there.»

"If you say so," you replied, trying to ignore the shiver that had passed through your back as you looked into his eyes.

«You must not believe me,» he said, taking a step closer. «But sooner or later you will understand. Speed is not just about money or perfect cars, it’s about the heart.»

The evening seemed almost quiet. You were sitting on an old wooden stool, holding in your hands a mojito that was melting too fast. Your best friend, laughing next to you as Jay strutted in the distance, probably telling someone how good Jungwon was.

'It’s not so bad, isn’t it?' said your bf, giving you a slight push on the shoulder.

"It still doesn’t convince me," you replied, sipping your drink. "Too much confusion, too many people... Not my world."

Your bf laughed. 'I know, but sometimes you have to try new things. Maybe there’s something here that...'

The girl’s words were interrupted by a sudden and deafening noise. Screams, immediately followed by the unmistakable sound of police sirens. The crowd exploded into a chaos of excited voices, bodies pushing and shoes pounding on the asphalt.

You got stuck, your heart was pounding. "What’s going on?"

'The cops, they’re here!' shouted someone, and the crowd began to scatter in all directions.

You looked around, lost, looking for your bff with your eyes, but before you could understand what to do you felt a strong hand holding your arm. You turned around and found Jungwon staring at you with a serious, almost impatient expression.

«You,» he said, bowing without waiting for an answer. «Come with me.»

"What-? Wait! No!" you tried to protest, but he didn’t give you the time. He dragged you through the crowd with fierce determination, dodging people and fallen bottles, to his car parked near the main road.

Jungwon opened the passenger door and almost pushed it in. «Get in.»

"I don’t even think so!"

The sirens came even closer, and you had no choice. You sat in the seat with your heart in your throat, slamming the door just as he was getting into the driver’s seat and turning on the engine.

«It’s written on your face that you’ve never been to such meetings,» he said as he set off. «Too scared to move.»

You stared at him. "I’m not scared!"

«Oh, you are,» he replied, and before you could fight back he put the gas on. The machine slammed forward at a speed that took your breath away. You clung to the seat, white knuckles, as the landscape began to flow at an impossible speed. The sirens were still behind you, but they got farther and farther away.

"You’re going too fast!" you shouted, trying to make yourself heard above the roar of the engine.

Jungwon did not answer, his face focused while he was dodging other cars and taking sharp turns without ever slowing down. His calm was frightening.

"I said slow down!" He turned his head slightly towards you, a funny smile that curved his lips. «What is it, speed scares you? I thought you were more brave.»

That was the drop of water. Without thinking, you raised your hand and slapped him on the arm. "Slow down!"

Jungwon laughed, the sound was low and incredibly calm for the situation. «It doesn’t work like that, princess. With the police on your tail, you run or lose.»

You stared at him, furious and terrified at the same time. "You’re out of your mind!"

«Maybe» he replied, giving the pedal a further push. The car accelerated even more, and you felt your heart go up in your throat.

«Tell me where you live,» said Jungwon, suddenly serious.

You exhibited, still tight to the seat. "Why?"

«Because if you don’t tell me, I don’t know where to leave you. Unless you want to stay with me all night.»

Your cheeks burned. "You’re an idiot."

«I take it as a compliment.»

With an exasperated sigh, you gave him the address. He nodded, turned the wheel with impeccable accuracy, and put a side road in.

The speed was only slightly slower, but not fast enough to feel the ground under your feet.

When it finally arrived in front of your palace, your heart was still beating like a drum.

He stopped the car, putting an arm on the steering wheel as he looked at you. «All together, see? It wasn’t so bad.»

You struck him with your eyes, but you did not answer. You opened the door and came down, almost stumbling as your legs trembled.

«Good night, princess», said Jungwon with a smile as he looked at you.

"Good night a horn," you mumbled, slamming the door. But as you ran home, you couldn’t ignore the fact that, despite everything, a part of you had felt that adrenaline... and you almost liked it.

The atmosphere at the university was unbearable. Every conversation seemed to revolve around Jungwon: the young prodigy, the boy who had rushed like lightning in the last run and left everyone speechless.

You sighed every time you heard his name. It was everywhere. In the boys' talks, in the girls' whispers. Even the professors seemed to mention with a veiled interest "that young pilot of whom everyone is talking".

But to you, Jungwon was just an arrogant boy with a passion for risk and a smile that irritated you more than it was allowed. Yet, there was something you couldn’t get out of your head: the night of the escape. The speed, the shiver, the way you felt alive... and vulnerable. It was a feeling you hated and, in part, wanted to forget.

One afternoon, as you were desperately trying to ignore the avalanche of messages in the groups on Jungwon, your bff approached your desk with a complicit smile and a colorful poster in hand.

'Look here,' she said, waving the paper before you.

You looked up from the book. "What is it?"

'One race,' he replied enthusiastically. 'But not a big one. It’s a training for the top 5, a private event. Only a few can attend.'

"So why show it to me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

'Cause I want to go there,' she replied with a smirk. 'And I thought you could come along. You know, as my partner in crime.'

"Not even in my dreams," you cut short, back to the book.

'Really?' sat down next to you, lowering his voice in a provocative tone. 'Are you sure? Maybe you can take the opportunity to thank that guy who saved you last night.'

You were blocked. Those words hit a nerve. You promised to thank him, despite everything. After that night you didn’t see each other anymore, and not that you cared particularly... or maybe yes?

"I’m thinking about it," you murmured at the end, leaving your satisfied bff in her place.

Two days later, you were exactly where you swore you would never be: a private track just outside the city, surrounded by a select few spectators. There was no crowd or chaos, only the roar of cars preparing to go down the track.

Despite initial reluctance, you could not deny that the atmosphere was fascinating. The shiny asphalt in the sun, the smell of burnt rubber, and the electricity in the air. It was all so... different.

You settled next to your best friend, who chatted animately with Jay. But your eyes were immediately caught by a figure in the distance: Jungwon.

He was there, with his pilot’s suit half open on the chest, helmet under his arm, and that cheeky smile printed on his face. He was laughing with a group of girls who seemed to be hanging on his lips.

You were staring at him, unable to look away. It was impossible to deny: he was beautiful. Perhaps too beautiful. His cat eyes shone with a light that seemed magnetic, and the dark and slightly ruffled hair fell perfectly on his face as if they had been designed for him.

And that suit... God.

"Oh, no," you muttered, looking away. You couldn’t, you didn’t have to admit it was nice. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even your type.

'Are you all right?' she asked, giving yourself a curious look.

"Yes," you answered, clenching your fists. "It’s all right."

But as Jungwon put on his helmet with a fluid gesture and approached his car, you noticed that your heart was beating faster. And it wasn’t the noise of the engines.

Coming fourth wasn’t exactly the result he wanted, especially considering he had raced against Heeseung and Sunghoon, two legends in the underground races. He had given everything, but against them, it was like fighting a storm.

As he stepped out of the car and took off his helmet, his gaze wandered through the small crowd of selected spectators. He looked for Jay, knowing that he would be somewhere with his girlfriend.

When he found it, however, Jungwon was stuck for a moment. Next to Jay was she: the good girl.

She was still, her arms crossed and the expression swaying between embarrassment and a strange determination. Although the light of sunset played with his features, giving his figure an almost ethereal aura, it was evident that he was not at ease in that environment.

Jungwon approached, his disappointment for fourth place temporarily forgotten. Curiosity shone in his feline eyes. «Wow, who sees again,» he said, a sneering smile that curled his lips.

You looked at him with your usual exasperated expression, but with a slight blush that colored your cheeks. "Hi, Jungwon."

«I didn’t think these places were your kind» he continued, slightly bowing his head. «Have you decided to add a little adrenaline to your monotonous life?»

Roll your eyes, ignoring the provocation. "I’m not here to have fun."

«Oh, then why are you here?»

Take a deep breath, determined to say what you had to. "I’m here to thank you."

Jungwon stared at you, surprised. «Thank me? For what?»

"For having me... Saved, if you may say so, the other night," I replied, looking down for a moment before raising it to meet his eyes.

For a moment he laughed, shaking his head slightly.

«Saved, eh?» she said, approaching by a step. «I would say that I have only given you a moving passage.»

"Call it what you will," you replied, trying to keep your cool. "But still... thank you."

Jungwon stopped laughing and stared at you, his eyes twinkling like something that looked like a challenge.

«And what do you think I want in return?» he asked, his voice low and almost hypnotic.

You looked at him, confused. "In return?"

He leaned slightly towards you, his face so close that you felt the warmth of his breath on your skin. Then, with a whisper that made your blood freeze in the veins, he said: «A kiss.»

Your eyes widened. "You’re kidding, right?"

Jungwon straightened, smiling with the same arrogance as ever. «I never joke, princess.»

You stared at him for a long moment, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. Finally, he crossed his arms and raised his chin in defiance. "Then you will be left without thanks."

He laughed as if his answer amused him even more. «We will see» and walked away with a sure pace, leaving you there with your heart still beating wildly.

It was a quiet evening, of those you preferred. Your best friend had gone out with Jay, and for once the apartment seemed to be in a pleasant silence. You were sitting on the couch with a cup of hot tea and a book, finally free to enjoy some peace.

But that peace broke suddenly when the intercom rang, making you jump. You were not expecting anyone. You did a little bit of showing, but then you went and checked the screen.

Your breath was blocked. On the monitor was Jungwon, hands in his pockets and that relaxed expression that seemed to say "I’m always in the right place at the right time."

"What’s he doing here?" you murmured, nervously tightening the oversized pajamas you wore. He put his hand on your mouth, trying to collect your thoughts.

Despite everything, you opened.

Jungwon’s steps rang up the stairs, and before you could get ready, he was standing at the door, tall, confident, and with a slight smile on his face.

«Hello, princess,» he said, leaning on the door frame.

You looked at him, confused and with a mixture of irritation and nervousness. "What are you doing here?"

He did not answer. He entered without being invited, taking off his shoes naturally as if he were at home.

"what.." you stopped when you saw him walking around the apartment, observing everything with curiosity.

«Nice place,» said Jungwon, passing a hand on the kitchen cabinet and then taking a look at the sofa. He moved with the grace of a cat, calmly exploring every corner.

"You can’t come in like that," you protested.

«Why not? » he answered, turning to look at you. «I’m doing nothing wrong.»

You crossed your arms, trying to keep calm. "You still avoided the main question: what are you doing here?"

Jungwon came a few steps closer, reducing the distance between you. His gaze was piercing, and the sneering smile had never left his face. «I have come to take my thanks.»

The heart missed a stroke. "What?"

«I told you, didn’t I? I don’t leave anything halfway.» He leaned slightly toward you. «And I don’t accept excuses.»

You roast, feeling completely overwhelmed by his presence. You tried to appeal to your rational side, but couldn’t find the right words. "I... I don’t understand why you’re doing this. I owe you nothing."

Jungwon tilted his head as if he was weighing up his words. Then he laughed softly, a low, warm sound that made her shiver. «You’re always so sweet, aren’t you? And scared.»

"I am not afraid," you protested.

«Oh, yes you are,» he replied, getting even closer. His eyes shone with malice, but there was something else too, something deeper that you could not decipher.

I stepped back, but you found yourself with your back against the kitchen table. You were trapped, and Jungwon seemed to know it.

«So?» he asked you, with a smile that seemed like a challenge. «What about my thanks?»

You looked down, your face was red. "I don’t know what you want from me..."

Jungwon laughed again, this time more softly. He raised his hand and pulled a lock of hair from your face. His touch was light, but enough to hold your breath.

«All right,» he said, in a strangely gentle tone. "Perhaps I’ll let you choose how you want to thank me. But remember, princess, I never forget.»

With those words, he finally left and returned to snooping.

Jungwon was still looking around, moving like a curious cat, when his gaze fell on the couch. Without thinking too much, he dropped with a soft thud, stretching as if he were the master of the house. «Nice and comfortable here," he commented nonchalantly.

You were staring at him with your arms crossed, trying to keep a serious tone. "I didn’t invite you to get comfortable, you know."

He ignored you as his eyes were set on a book left on the pillow next to him. With disarming speed, he grabbed it.

«Let’s see what our princess reads,» he said, flipping through the pages.

"No! Give it back!" you exclaimed, approaching quickly.

But it was too late. Jungwon read aloud one of the most sappy passages in the book, imitating an overly sweet voice. "And he stared at her intensely, unable to resist the temptation to kiss her..."

You suddenly blush, embarrassed. "Stop it, give me back now!"

Jungwon burst out laughing.

«I never thought you were a fan of romantic novels. Aren’t you the one with the study books?»

You came to grab the book, but he pushed it away, holding it high above his head. "Jungwon, I told you to give it back!"

In an attempt to catch him, you swerved, falling on him on the couch. Both of you ended up lying down, you on top of him, the forgotten book on the ground.

For a moment everything seemed to stop. You looked up and met his feline eyes, so close that he could see every detail of their depth.

With a slow gesture, he raised his hand and stroked your cheek, the thumb that touched your skin with disarming delicacy. «Soft,» he murmured, almost in silence, as if he was making an incredible discovery.

Your heart was beating fast, and your face turned even more red. "J-Jungwon..."

He slightly tilted his head, his gaze curious and fascinated. Then, with a speed that caught you by surprise, he made you a slight tickle on your hips, making you burst into an involuntary laugh.

"Hey!" you protested in laughter, trying to move, but Jungwon kept teasing you with that funny smile.

«I like your laugh», he said, stopping at last. His voice was warm and low, and for a moment the atmosphere among you changed.

Before you could say anything, Jungwon leaned slightly towards you, his feline movements controlled. Then, with a confidence that seemed to leave no room for doubt, he laid his lips on yours.

The kiss was soft, but firm. There was no hurry, just a gesture full of respect and curiosity. You felt his big hands leaning around your back to hold you closer to him and with a sigh you let his tongue enter your mouth; It was the best kiss you had ever had and Jungwon looked so good at everything he did and you felt the heat of the contact immediately that broke down all resistance.

When you left, Jungwon smiled at you, his eyes shining with something you still couldn’t define. «Now I can consider myself thanked,» he muttered, the mischievous tone but strangely sweet.

Jungwon looked at you with a smile that mixed mischievousness and tenderness. «You know, I must admit,» he said in that witty tone that you now knew well, «you’re quite good at kissing, princess.»

You opened your eyes wide, the redness immediately rising to your cheeks. "Jungwon!" you protested, lightly hitting him on the shoulder.

He laughed, the low and relaxed sound that always seemed to make fun of you, but in a surprisingly affectionate way. Before he could fight back, he wrapped an arm around your waist and gently pulled you to himself, causing your head to rest on his neck.

«Then relax,» he muttered, as he slowly stroked your back.

Part of you couldn’t help but wonder: How can I feel safe with him? Jungwon was everything that represented chaos, risk, and defying the rules. Yet there, in his arms, was a calm you could not explain.

«Do you feel safe?» he asked you as if he had read your mind.

You did not answer immediately, clenching your fingers against the fabric of his shirt. At the end, you whisper, with a thread of voice: "It makes no sense, but yes."

Jungwon smiled, and his warm breath tickled your hair. «Maybe because I’m less dangerous than you think.»

Before you could answer, Jungwon moved slightly, breaking contact. He stood up, stretching with a grace that seemed almost feline. «But now I must go.»

You looked at him, still sitting on the sofa. "Doing... illegal things?" you asked, your voice a little jokey but also a bit serious.

He laughed softly, shaking his head. «In a way yes. I have to do something very illegal for the human being, imposed from above.»

You stared at him, confused. "What?"

«Study», he replied with a sly smile.

You blinked, incredulous. "Study?"

Jungwon nodded, putting his hands in his pockets. «Right. You don’t seem convinced.»

"I’m not," you admitted. "You... study? Really?"

«Of course. I study law.»

His words left you breathless. "Law?" you repeated, incredulous. "You? The boy who runs illegally and seems to ignore every rule... Do you study law?"

Jungwon laughed again, amused by his reaction. «I know, I know. It seems a contradiction, doesn’t it? But what can I do? I have a passion for rules. Only I prefer to decide when and how to follow them.»

You stared at him, trying to process that new information. "You are... a living contradiction."

«Interesting,» he smiled maliciously at you. Then, he slightly bowed his head. «And you are adorable when you are confused. See you, princess.»

And with those words, he left, leaving you sitting on the sofa staring at the door. And you thought that Jungwon was a riddle that you didn’t know how to solve yet.

After days of life seemed back to normal, you were immersed in your journalism studies, trying to forget the chaos that Jungwon had brought into your life. You were focused, determined to keep your head on her future, away from distractions.

But when your colleague at the university newspaper asked you to write a piece about clandestine racing, you suddenly found yourself back in the center of that world from which you had tried to get away.

'Are you sure you want to do it?' asked the colleague. 'It doesn’t seem like your environment.'

You raised your chin, determined. "I can do it. I’ll go with my best friend, no problem."

And so, that Saturday night, you found yourself again immersed in the racket noise. The pre-race was a chaotic party: deafening music, neon lights that illuminated the improvised track, people laughing and drinking everywhere. Your best friend, she seemed perfectly comfortable, but you don't.

Despite everything, you took your notebook and you started working. You had to do a detailed report, so you started to observe the machines and transcribe nicknames, technical notes, and the general atmosphere.

"The Panther" had a black and shiny livery, and "The Eagle" a silver car that seemed to slip in the air. Each pilot had a nickname, an identity that made them bigger than life.

But when your gaze was set on a machine unmistakable, your heart stopped. It was there, in all its glory: the hood painted with shiny stripes that reminded of claw scratches, and the name he had already heard whispered by Jay: The Wildcat.

Next to the car was him. Jungwon.

Your heart sped up when you saw it. Lying nonchalantly beside the car, he wore a dark leather jacket left unlaced, revealing a tight-fitting T-shirt that highlighted his dry physique. The messy hair looked even softer in the neon light, and the cat eyes shone with a mix of challenge and fun. He was not alone. Three, maybe four girls were standing near him, laughing and flirting openly. One of them had put a hand on his arm, and he didn’t seem at all annoyed.

The pen you held in your hand stopped. You felt a wave of conflicting emotions: annoyance, jealousy, irritation, and that bit of insecurity that you could never get away from when it came to confronting other girls.

'Are you all right?' asked your bff, noticing your sudden silence.

"Yes," lying, looking down, and pretending to take notes in your notebook.

Jungwon seemed perfectly in his element. Every movement and every smile seemed to be designed to attract attention, and it worked perfectly. Everyone was watching him, and he knew it.

When one of the girls came closer to him, laughing and putting a hand on his chest, you felt yourself burning inside. You turned, pressing the notebook against your chest. It shouldn’t have mattered. It didn’t.

But then, as if he had felt your gaze even amid the chaos, Jungwon looked up and saw you.

His smile stopped for a moment. The feline eyes were fixed on you, curious and perhaps surprised.

You held your breath, unable to look away.

Then, Jungwon’s smile returned, slower and deeper. She pulled away from the car and stepped over to you, the girls who were quietly protesting about the sudden lack of attention.

You were juggling between the machines, trying to ignore the knot of emotion that had formed in his stomach after seeing Jungwon. You kept taking notes in his notebook, writing down details about the race, the drivers, the nicknames... but your heart could not calm down.

You were focused on describing a car with a fiery red livery when suddenly you heard a hand grab your notebook. You slammed your eyes and you saw it.

Jungwon was there, a few steps away from you, with that cat-like look in his eyes that seemed to be light inside. His eyes shone with mischief and amusement, and his lips curled in a sneering smile. «Hey, princess,» he said goodbye, holding the notebook carelessly in her hand. «I missed something or are you trying to write a book about us?»

"Give it back, Jungwon. I’m working."

He slightly tilted his head, studying it. «Working, eh? You didn’t find a minute to come and say hello? All the other girls did it.» His voice was a mixture of provocation and challenge.

You’re sticking your jaw, trying to keep calm. "I didn’t come here to make friends, Jungwon. I have other things to do."

Your words made him smile. He leaned slightly towards you, your eyes straight in his. «Let me guess... Are you jealous?»

You blinked, surprised by her question. Then you sat down, raising your chin with determination. "Not. Why should I be jealous?"

Jungwon stared at you for a moment, his smile widening as if he were having a great time. «I don’t know, but usually the girls who look at me like that have something to say.»

You get stiff, feeling your face getting warmer and warmer. "I wasn’t looking at you in any way. I have other things to think about."

He laughed softly, a sound that seemed to wrap her like a caress. «Sure, princess. As you wish.»

You ripped the notebook out of his hands. "Stop calling me that. And let me do my job."

Jungwon pulled back, raising his hands in surrender, but his smile did not fade. «All right, all right. But don’t take it too hard. You know where to find me if you change your mind.»

And with a last look that seemed to promise trouble, he turned around and returned to his car.

The race was a whirlwind of emotions. You were with Jay and your bff, watching the chaos of cars sprinting under the spotlight. The engines were roaring, and the adrenaline felt palpable in the air. Jungwon was third, fighting ferociously to reach the podium and win that prize which meant more than just money.

You couldn’t deny that she was nervous. Every tight turn, every overtake, every calculated risk made her hold her breath. The gaze was instinctively set on Jungwon’s car, recognizable by its aggressive stripes and proudly painted number.

But then it happened.

The Panther made an illegal move. A sharp cut to the trajectory, too close to be a simple mistake. Jungwon’s car skidded, losing control, and went off the track with an impact that made the silence in the air resound. No one laughed, no one spoke.

"Damn it!" cursed Jay, sprinting into the pit area to see what had happened to Jungwon. You looked for Jungwon, but he was as if disappeared, swallowed up by the darkness of the track. The crowd around you had already started to celebrate, shouting for Heeseung, Sunghoon, and the Panther’s victory as the spotlight turned on the winners.

You were lost. You couldn’t think of anything but the car that was off the track and the guy driving it. Where was Jungwon? Was he all right?

"Hey," a deep voice brought you back to reality.

You turned around and saw a boy coming towards you. It was the pilot of the Panther, the one who caused the accident.

"What is a pretty girl doing here with a notebook in her hand?" he asked, looking at you with interest.

"I’m working," you replied coldly, holding the notebook to my chest. "I’m a journalist, I have to write about the race."

He laughed, a sound that had nothing genuine. "A journalist, eh? Well, maybe you could write a piece about me. You know, I’m the star of the night."

You stared at it, the obvious annoyance on your face. "I don’t think I’ll write about who plays dirty to win."

The boy’s smile cracked slightly, but before he could answer, a movement behind him caught both of their attention.

«I don’t think he wants to write about you,» said a familiar, low, and tense voice.

Jungwon was there. Hair sprawled, a small wound on the eyebrow that bled slightly, and an expression that promised trouble.

The Panther’s pilot smiled, raising his hands in surrender. "Oh, there it is. I thought you were still licking your off-piste wounds."

He didn’t have time to finish the sentence. Jungwon advanced with a lightning move and punched him straight in the face. The boy staggered back, a hand to his nose.

«If you want to win, do it playing clean» growled Jungwon, his voice low but full of anger.

Stood still, my heart beating like a bat. You had never seen Jungwon so full of fury and determination.

He turned to you, his feline eyes staring at you with an intensity that made you hold your breath.

«Is everything okay?» he asked you, his voice suddenly quieter.

You are slow and unable to formulate a response. He watched you for a moment longer, then turned to the pilot of the Panther, who was still recovering.

«Never come near her again,» said Jungwon, his voice dangerously low. And with those words, he took your hand and led you away from the crowd, leaving chaos behind.

You found yourself catapulted into the car of Jungwon, almost without realizing how it happened. He was furious, his face tense and his cat eyes shone with a disturbing intensity. His hands held the steering wheel tightly, and the silence in the car was broken only by the soft hum of the engine.

You look around nervously, trying to figure out where you are going. You did not dare to speak, but you could not ignore the charged energy that was breathed into the air.

In the end, Jungwon stopped in a poorly lit parking lot, away from the chaos of the race and the festivities. He turned off the engine but said nothing for a moment. He ran his hand through his hair, visibly irritated, and then turned to you, approaching dangerously.

«What the hell were you thinking, Y/n?» he growled, his voice low but full of anger.

You stared at him, confused and slightly intimidated. "I... was working. I just asked questions and took notes for the piece I have to write."

Jungwon came even closer, his eyes peering at you. «Working? With that ridiculous little skirt and the top that leaves everything in sight? Where is the good girl I kissed the other day?»

You looked at him, surprised and irritated by her reaction. "Sorry?! What’s the matter, Jungwon? It’s not your concern what I’m wearing. And, for your information, I’m still the same person, even if I don’t dress like a nun to come to these stupid races!"

He raised an eyebrow, the sneer smile returning to his face. «Ah, so now you like to be a rebel? Interesting.»

"It’s not about rebellion!" you broke off with your arms crossed. "And stop judging me. It’s you who runs illegally, not me."

For a moment, Jungwon stared at you in silence, then his smile went out, and his gaze became more serious. «I don’t want you to get into trouble. Not with people like that, and certainly not in a place like this."

You were silent, struck by the sincerity in her voice, but you didn’t want to give it up. "I’m not a child, Jungwon. I can take care of myself."

Now your faces were a few inches apart. «You don’t understand, do you? It’s not just about looking after yourself. I can’t stand the idea that someone else could even look at you like that guy did.»

You suddenly felt confused and vulnerable under his intense gaze. "Jungwon..."

But he didn’t give you the time. With a strong gesture, he took you by the face and kissed you, his lips pressing against yours with overwhelming confidence, but not without sweetness. It was a kiss that spoke of unresolved emotions, confusion, and desire.

You stood still for a moment, but then you let go, returning the kiss. You didn’t know what that meant, but at the time, in his arms, you felt inexplicably safe, even though Jungwon represented everything he had to avoid.

The anger, tension, and that strange, irresistible attraction that Jungwon seemed to be kindling in you all exploded at once. You grabbed him by the collar of the shirt and pulled him towards you, kissing him again with more passion, as if you wanted to make him understand once and for all how confused she was, but also how lost you were for him.

Your hands trembled as they sat on Jungwon’s sculpted chest. You felt the muscles twitch under your fingers as if he was struggling to keep control. The heat emanating seemed to burn her skin, but she did not want to stop.

Between one kiss and the next, he pulled away slightly, his lips still dangerously close to hers. «Wait,» he muttered, with a smile that seemed to hide a thousand secrets. «Move slightly from the seat.»

You looked at him, confused, as he moved swiftly into the passenger seat. She pointed with a sure nod to his lap. «Sit here.»

You stared at him with wide eyes, heart pounding in your chest. "Jungwon, we’re in public..."

He chuckled, the sound low and incredibly charming. «Nobody is watching us. And even if they did... who cares? Trust me.»

After a moment of hesitation, you moved in embarrassment, and you sat on his legs. Your arms instinctively clenched around Jungwon’s neck, as he laid his hands on his hips, holding you firmly against him.

«See?» he whispered, in a tone that had a disarmingly sweet sweetness. «There is nothing to be afraid of.»

He, on the other hand, seemed comfortable, but there was something in his eyes that betrayed a darker depth. His fingers began to trace little circles on your hips, and his smile became more intense.

«You’re so beautiful,» he said, his tone suddenly serious, as he stared at you as if you were the only thing that mattered to him in the world. «You don’t realize what you’re doing to me, do you?»

You shook your head slightly, unable to find the words.

He tilted his head, his gaze becoming darker but at the same time incredibly sweet.

«I don’t want anyone to look at you the way I do. Is that a problem?»

"Jungwon..." you mumbled, but he didn’t give her time to continue.

He drew his lips to your ear like a kitten huddled in its den, sank his face against his neck, inhaled your scent, squeezed you tighter, and began kissing you and making little pacifiers.

«You are so sensitive,» he murmured, as he heard how you tried to deny the moans of pleasure. «I love to see how you react to me, I bet no one has made you feel like this in your life, princess.»

This time she touched the edge of your lace panties slightly.

"Jungwon.... not here," You said as you felt his big fingers sear your panties.

Your words seemed to light something in Jungwon. His smile grew wider and more dangerous, and a bad boy’s flash lit up his face. «Oh, princess» he whispered, tilting his head slightly as his hands slid into her life. «I want everything of you... but I’m not sure I can wait.»

Before you could answer, his fingers moved with an exasperating slowness under your skirt, and he began to draw light circles as you felt that slowly you were already excited for him. You held your breath, feeling the heat that spread throughout your body.

Jungwon, amused by your reaction, drew little circles with his fingers, stroking the slightly moist fabric. «So wet»

You whispered in a tone that mixed sweetness and provocation. «Is this all for me?»

You nodded weakly with your face becoming increasingly red.

He came near your ear again, letting his warm breath caress her skin. «I would like to take everything of you now, but not in this car. Not like that. You deserve more.»

Despite his words, he did not stop at all. He started touching your pussy but a grin formed on his face and looked as if there was someone outside and with a strong movement touched the lever that was under the seat and lowered it. «Lie down Y/n, I will make you feel good while I kneel.» Jungwon laid you down in the seat and began to slide his hands on one of your legs, lifting it to leave a kiss trail up to your thigh, Stopping occasionally to admire your soft skin that was illuminated by the moon and the intense look you were throwing at him. «I promise you that I will make you feel so good, you can’t be touched by any boy from today»

He moved his head under the skirt took the piece of your panties between his teeth and slowly pulled it down, moaning audibly as he watched a series of excitement drip from your heart. His cock was already pulsing in his pants but today he just wanted to make you feel good, there would be other opportunities that he would be well.

You looked at him a lot embarrassed but also extremely excited when you saw him with your panties in your mouth and pulled his hair and carried him back down into your pussy.

"Jungwon, I’m... you can lick it pls» Jungwon started laughing and tricked his tongue on your inner thigh, capturing your excitement on his tongue. «Fuck, baby, you’re so good. Let me eat your pretty pussy» You slightly widened your thighs and moaned instantly when he licked and licked, without even thinking about it, before reaching his hand behind you with his arms stretched out to pull you closer, guiding your hips down with force "Jungwon," you panicked. Your brain got a little confused as it pushed your thighs away, then lifted them up and away so that you could bury your face deeper between them. «Look at you, you’re getting your pussy licked in the middle of nowhere by the only guy you find irritating»

Jungwon took a second to smile at you, stroking your slimy thigh with his cheek, and pressing a small lingering kiss on your warm skin. His tongue was hot and wet against your pussy, practically melting against your folds, making long and deliberate passes up to your clitoris before you concentrate on it and suck it with a fervor that sent waves of pleasure.

Unable to hold your voice, you began to emit gasping and stuttering moans, unintentionally lifting yourself into his mouth as he licked and sucked your clitoris, feeling your cheeks burning more and more long he looked into your eyes.

"I am... oh my God, please" greedily caress your clitoris pulsing in quick and deliberate circles with the thumb, automatically bringing two fingers to your pussy, your greedy hole sucked them up to your knuckles, without hesitating to push them in and out of you. Once your legs hooked to her waist, she quickened and pumped the rhythm of her fingers, your moisture now so palpable that it was beginning to leak out of you.

«Come princess, only for the wildcat» you exhaled, licking your lips and savoring the remains of yourself on your tongue, Striking him in a way that made you fight the urge to let your eyes roll down to the bottom of your skull and come between his fingers and with a gesture he took her to his mouth and sucked her as if it were the best thing in this world.

Yes, he got up slightly and felt his cock and balls extremely tight and hard in the pants but it was worth it, he had just made the "good girl" come off the university and knew that she would think for not how long to this episode of him bowing to her to suck their pussy.

You had spent a few nights writing your piece, trying to maintain a balance between your natural contempt for the illegality and that subtle attraction for the adrenaline-fuelled world that you had discovered recently. In the end, you delivered your article to the local newspaper, knowing that it would create a sensation, especially among the pilots.

You described the atmosphere in vivid words, talking about the roar of engines, the smoke from tires on the asphalt, and people who seemed to live only for those moments.

Extract from the article:

"There is something irresistibly hypnotic about seeing those riders challenge everything and everyone, putting their lives on the edge of a razor for a ride of glory. But despite the obvious danger and illegality, I can not deny that I also felt the heartbeat accelerate, the shiver of every curve taken to the limit. It’s a world that makes you want more, even when you know you shouldn’t."

You also mentioned the most famous pilots, dedicating a part of his article to the young and mysterious Wildcat:

"Among the many, one stands out for his early talent and rebellious attitude: Wildcat. At just 20, he has shown a mastery of the steering wheel that defies logic. But it’s not just his ability that makes him interesting: there is an energy in him, an aura that makes him unmatched. Despite his age, he drives like he was born to do it, and there’s a dangerous confidence in his feline eyes that makes you wonder what lies behind that provocative smile. Who knows if, behind the bad boy mask, there is something more... is a bad boy as everyone says or is different with the people he loves?"

Jungwon, sitting on the couch at home, had read the article carefully. The newspaper folded on his knees, his eyes shone with a strange combination of annoyance and amusement.

'So he thinks I’m hiding something, eh?' he murmured to himself, "And it describes that adrenaline so well... Maybe she’s not so different from me after all.'

Then he stopped to read another part:

"It is clear that risk is an integral part of this world, but perhaps this is what makes it so irresistible. Once you enter, it’s hard to get out of it, especially when you meet people who seem made for living without rules. And although I do not share this lifestyle, I cannot deny that there is something fascinating about observing those who are not afraid to challenge any limit."

Jungwon laughed slowly, was it perhaps a hint of what happened in the car between the gold two the other day?

'Good girl, eh?' mumbled. 'You’re so convinced that you don’t want to be part of this world, but underneath I know you like it. And I’m the only one who can take you beyond that limit, Y/n

He decided that he could not let go of the matter. He had to see her, tease her personally, and above all make her understand that no one could talk about him in that way without suffering the consequences.

You had just come out of the shower and heard the bell ring. Your best friend was not in, and you were not expecting anyone. And on the screen of the video intercom was: Jungwon, with the folded newspaper in his hand and that dangerous smile you now recognized too well.

You opened the door, trying to keep calm. "What are you doing here?" You asked, crossing my arms.

Jungwon didn’t answer immediately, just entering with a disarming security. «So you wrote an article about the bad boys of the city Y/n? Pleased with the comments you received?» He said in a low, sharp voice, waving the newspaper before you.

"It’s just my job," you replied, trying to keep a professional tone.

Jungwon chuckled and slowly approached, leaning slightly towards you until your faces were a few inches away. «No one speaks of me in this way. Not even you.»

You instinctively backed away, but he followed you, the paper still in his hand, his eyes shining with an intensity that made her tremble. «Wildcat, eh? Feline eyes, dangerous smile... tell me, were you writing or fantasizing about me? what is it you missed already my touch?»

"Don’t get your head in the sand, Jungwon. I just brought the truth."

«Truth?» he repeated with a grin, getting even closer. «And what is the truth? That you like this world? That you like what I make you feel?»

You felt trapped, and your heart was beating too fast. "I... I don’t..."

Before you could finish the sentence, Jungwon dropped the newspaper on the counter and took you by the side, lifting you up easily and making you sit on the kitchen island. He stood between your legs, his eyes fixed on his.

«Spare me the apology,» you whispered, his voice full of desire and a touch of possession. «I know exactly what you’re trying to hide. It’s in your eyes every time you look at me.»

You tried to talk, but before you could say a word, Jungwon leaned over and kissed you with an overwhelming passion. His hands seized your hips with force, pulling you even closer as if he wanted to erase all distance.

The kiss was different from the previous ones: there was not only passion but also a kind of affirmation. He wanted you to know that you were his, that no one else could get close to you like he did. «Never again write about me in that way,» he whispered against her lips, her voice low and hoarse. «I don’t want anyone else to know how good I am at making you feel this way. This is just for us.»

Jungwon caressed your face sweetly, a striking contrast to his possessive grip on your hips.

You felt his fingers trace the skin of your hips under your shirt until it reached the breast that was completely uncovered because you had just washed, His fingers were slightly cold to contact your breast and Bud tickled you and made you slightly arch your back. «You are already so sensitive to me and i touched you only with a finger what will happen when you fuck princess?» Jungwon took off your shirt and started kissing you and tickling your breasts, your poor nipples were turgid and with one hand he held you still and with the other, he massaged you alternating to tighten your left breast. He sucked you as if he was obsessed with your breast but had other things for the head that he wanted to do, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him and he with one hand ran through your leg from the knee to the inside of the thigh, making you lose breath, a smug smile took shape on his lips as he tilted his head watching your reaction as his fingers approached your core, the tips traced him around your pajamas shorts and groans at the touch of his fingers around your core still dressed.

"Jungwon...I need" Your hand moved to touch his cock through the pants of the suit, making him moan, pulled down your pajama shorts, and when he saw that you already had your panties slightly wet a grin set up on his face, «God, already so fucking wet for me» and you kept massaging his cock, and I also took him off in his pants and made him spread a little 'the stain of the pre-ejaculate in his boxer shorts.

He took you in his arms as you kissed and kissed, and brought you to your room and laid you gently by the edge of your bed, you were perfect for him, It was months that he dreamed of fucking you and having you all to himself and finally came the time to see that the good girl who everyone loved at university was not so much a good girl when she was with him. He quickly removed your panties and his fingers finally touched your clitoris, winding around the bundle of nerves, throwing it every time you moved your hips trying to get more friction; «look at you, you are already so eager to have my fingers around you, where has the good girl gone?» You groaned and tried to move easily but Jungwon as usual was teasing you.

"Jungwon, stop being like that. We both know that underneath you were pleased with that article" Jungwon looked at you with serious eyes and without saying anything two fingers entered your already sensitive core, making you shudder.

“Fuck, oh yeah!" Jungwon started pumping your fingers slowly though and you moved so much that you accidentally touched his cock in his boxer shorts with one hand he held you tight and with the other, he touched you but Jungwon had other plans with you.

«The other day in the car I made you come, now it’s your turn to show me what you can do, I really want to see if the good girls can be good with dicks» You looked at Jungwon slightly embarrassed and opened your mouth to the surprise of his words.

Choking a groan as his fingers curled inside you again. Your hands moved quickly to lower his boxer shorts, releasing his huge cock, making you open wide eyes but your mouth was even more flooding with desire for him.

Your hand quickly distributed the pre-seminal liquid, and your thumb gently moved it while you watched his reaction, smiling at seeing that you were making him enjoy only with his cock in hand, whimpering as he added a third finger, By widening even more. Your pussy was already sore and super sensitive by the overstimulation of his fingers and you kept on teasing their cock and sucking it "Jugwon, please" the guy in front of you laughed slowly and he also mooed something incomprehensible

and said: «What do you want, use that beautiful mouth you love to tease people to tell me what my princess wants» moaning loudly when he pumped all three fingers around your pussy it was beautiful but you wanted more.

"I want...I want you, pls" When he heard those words he let out his fingers and spread your legs and your pussy was super shiny, stimulated, and ready to take his dick. His tip only went in a little to drive you crazy, but there was not much you could do while he held your legs apart and on the edge of the bed. Your hands went into his hair, pulling it slightly as you watched Jungwon’s cock disappear inside your pussy, slowly driving you crazy.

It didn’t matter if you begged him he would take it his way, he quickly pulled out all his cock before you could even get used to it if he was back in full again, and repeated it a couple more times before his hand that had been on his member before, It would move on your clitoris making circular movements as it kept burying itself deep inside you and pulling everything out. Moaning, invaded your room and you pulled him even closer to you with the other hand he stroked your cheek and put his thumb in your mouth, and sucked it slightly

«good girl» Nodded while you felt his cock now in your stomach clothing you and it was a wonderful feeling to see Jungwon so lost of you and inside you.

«Look at you, I want you to look at me and groan my name as I hear you hold me with that sweet little pussy of yours, yes?» You nodded and groaned as it hit the exact point of your G-spot and felt the overstimulation of his thumb touching your now swollen clitoris.

«Come for me, come around me, be a good girl, and come all over my dick.»

"Jungwon, please...oh fuck!"

Your high quickly found you while he kept jumping inside of you looking for his release, and you felt his seed and his cum inside you gushing out of your pussy after a while he got rid of his cock around you and gave you little kisses in your neck and made you lie down in the bed and put on his shirt and went straight to get wet clothes to take off everything, the sticky sperm from your legs and after a little while he lay down next to you and hugged you and cuddled to you placing his head in your neck and leave you small kisses and light caresses.

«I hope it didn’t hurt, princess. I... I never felt these things for a girl and you» didn’t end up gently putting your lips on hers and he smiled at you.

"I have never had these feelings for anyone but Jungwon, i don't want this thing to be just for fun…”

Jungwon hugged you and held you close to him

«No, you have not for months now mine and you have not even realized it. This thing is not only for fun for me, I want to make it work because when I win I need my journalist of trust who describes me as his Wildcat!» You laughed and it was extremely true that you and Jungwon could not be so different but at the same time, you were complementary.

Comments and reblog are appreciated❤️

©cutehoons02 all rights reserved 2025.

[prettymfwrites]

Wifey🤰🏾💍

Mom Paige bueckers x influencer mom female reader

Summary: You and Paige are married and have three kids... Which as quickly become a running joke.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　 ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

The cozy hum of family life filled the kitchen as you set your phone up against the countertop for an impromptu Instagram Live. Parker was perched on your hip, her chubby hands fiddling with the strap of your tank top as her big brown eyes darted around with curiosity. Her soft coos melted your heart as you adjusted the angle of the phone, your face lighting up when the viewers started rolling in.

“Alright, y’all, don’t come for me about how tired I look,” you teased, glancing at the comments scrolling quickly on the screen. “This is mom life, okay? Three kids in five years. I’m running on iced coffee and vibes at this point.”

Parker gurgled, and you kissed her cheek softly. “Parker says hi, by the way. Say hi, baby,” you encouraged, lifting her tiny hand to wave at the screen.

The comments were already flying in:

“Y’all had another kid?!”

“At this point, Paige needs to chill.”

“Mama stays busy fr.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I swear, y’all love dragging Paige. She’s somewhere around here, probably eating something she didn’t ask me if she could have.”

Right on cue, you felt familiar arms slide around your waist from behind. Paige’s taller frame towered over you, and you felt her chin rest lightly on top of your head. She pressed close, her warmth immediately grounding you.

“There she is,” you said, laughing softly as the comments exploded. “And here comes the culprit.”

Parker lit up when she spotted Paige, letting out an excited squeal. Paige peeked down at the baby, grinning ear to ear. “Hi, Mama,” she cooed, her voice soft and playful as Parker reached out for her.

“Here, take her,” you said, passing Parker to Paige, who immediately kissed her baby’s cheek. The sight made your chest warm. Seeing Paige with your kids always hit you in a special way.

“Look at these two,” you said to the camera, your voice tinged with affection. “They look like twins.”

Paige stayed behind you, holding Parker with one arm while keeping the other securely around your waist. Her grip was gentle yet firm, a silent reminder of how much she adored you. You glanced at a comment that caught your eye.

“Let us see the nails.”

“Oh, okay!” you said, holding up your hand to the camera. Your fresh set gleamed, and the delicate cursive "P" on your ring nail caught the light. “What do y’all think? I wanted something simple this time.”

Before you could pull your hand away, Paige leaned closer, pointing at the nail. “Y’all see this? This my baby. My wife. That ‘P’ don’t stand for anyone but me,” she declared proudly.

You laughed, shaking your head. “Relax, Buckets. You know they know I’m yours.”

Paige smirked, her free arm snaking back around your waist to pull you even closer. The comments started to get even more chaotic:

“Paige, get off her!”

“Doctor, it’s loose again!”

“Sis can’t breathe, let her go.”

“Okay, so y’all thinking boy or girl for the next one?”

Paige laughed loudly, leaning her forehead against the back of your head. “If y’all had a woman like this, you wouldn’t be able to stay off her either. Be real.”

You turned your head to give her a side-eye. “Paige, don’t start.”

“Oh, I’ve been started,” she teased, pressing a series of soft kisses on your shoulder. Parker babbled happily in her arms, as if agreeing with her mama.

You couldn’t help but laugh along with her, your heart full in a way that words couldn’t quite capture. Turning your attention back to the live, you read aloud one more comment: “Seriously, Paige, leave the poor woman alone!”

“Y’all act like I don’t love this,” you said, smiling knowingly. “I married her for a reason, didn’t I?”

Paige grinned behind you, placing another kiss on your shoulder. “You sure did. You stuck with me now, baby.”

I take requests! 💋 also leave a comment I love to hear from y'all

[miedei]

heyoo🫶 idk if your spencer requests are still open but all I've been able to think about for weeks is s4ep9 spencer being the most adorable nerd when he was warning the women at the club about the serial and them being the reader's friends going back to the reader with like drinks or whatever laughing about "that nerdy loser" at which reader's practically frothing at the mouth asking them "WHERE" and then hardcore flirting with an oblivious (and/or blushing mess) spence to the team's amusement and reader just thinking "need me a pathetic loser like that" (affectionate). im not even sure this makes sense but i just go feral for nerd reid. im really looking forward to reading this and thank you in advance if you do write this🥰

REAL REAL REAL need me a pathetic loser boy

peacocking

spencer gets hit on at the club!!

wc: 1.2k

cw: none i think?? spence is cute and pathetic, r is the kind of flirty i only aspire to be

(PS: reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

mlist

The club is busy, lighting dim, the music so loud that you can feel the bass thumping in your chest. It's a stark difference from the brightly-lit bathroom you just emerged from, wearing three new products of makeup courtesy of the drunken friends you've just made.

The crowd is thick, and you can just barely spot your friends, huddled around a hard-won table. You push through people, not bothering to apologise, until you've returned to the group.

You're greeted with whoops and cheers, and a drink is pushed into your hand before you can even sit down. Alcohol-fueled shouts leave their mouths, and you get the distinct feeling that they've somehow had at least two more rounds in the time you've been gone. You can barely focus on one person's speech, the words overlapping in their excitement.

"-and he was, like, the hottest guy I've ever seen!"

"-but he wouldn't take my number because he was working, and-"

"-his friend was pretty awkward though-"

"-like a string bean! Nerdy as hell, think it was his first time in a club-"

"-was like he'd never spoken to a woman before, kept talking about the serial killer-"

You hold up a hand, a little bewildered at the bombardment of information.

"Hold on- serial killer?" One of your friends shakes her head a little, as if clearing her mind.

"Not here, at least they pretty sure. Some creep's been picking up women and killing them at clubs, so there were cops or something here giving out fliers." A flier is thrusted into your hand, a sketch of a guy looking up at you.

"And, one of the cop guys was gorgeous! Adonis, Casanova, whatever the fuck you'd call him, he was so pretty..." She sighs wistfully, pointing across the room to a gaggle of women surrounding a well-built guy holding fliers like the one in your hand.

"The other guy was a little sad, though. Real nerd type."

Another voice butts in. "Yeah! I mean, look at him, I feel a little bad for him, he's clearly striking out and he's here for his job."

The pointing finger shifts, and your attention is directed to a lanky guy standing towards the edges of the crowd, near the bar. He looks nervous, hands fiddling with the stack of fliers he's got, and he doesn't seem to be trying to approach anyone anymore.

He's clearly uncomfortable, skittish in his stance. A nerd to his core, probably never the type to be wading through a crowd like this. He looks a little pathetic.

You've got to have him.

You tell your friends as much, and are met with drunken encouragement, slaps on the back and reminders to use protection. Setting down the flyer and your drink, you steel yourself, smoothing back your hair before walking with purpose across the room.

Once you near him, you slide onto a barstool, flagging down the bartender and pretending not to notice the new love of your life. He's clearly clocked you, and seems to be trying to work up the courage to approach you. Once you've given your order, you decide to make it easier for him.

Turning on the stool, you look up at him, eyes slightly hooded.

"You not having fun? It's a club, you should probably unbutton that shirt a little." It's thrilling, the way his eyes widen and he looks around him, as if you could be speaking to anyone else right now.

"Well, I actually- I'm actually here for my work, so..." His cheeks flush, and you continue with the oblivious act.

"Work? I've got to say, you're gorgeous, but I didn't think you were the type to be hired as a waiter here." You gesture to the scantily-clad waitress that passes you. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times, before seemingly remembering something. He rifles through his leather bag, producing a wallet with ID.

"Um, no, I don't work here. I'm- I'm an FBI agent. Doctor Spencer Reid. H-hi." Cute and smart? It's a wonder you haven't slid right off your stool.

"Yeah? And what are you doing here, Doctor Reid? Don't get me wrong, I appreciate being able to ogle you, but this doesn't exactly seem like the place for the FBI to be doing their investigating." You nod your thanks at the bartender, and run your finger along the rim of your glass, eyes locked onto Spencer's.

"Oh! Yeah," He fumbles with the papers in his hand, before holding one out to you. "There's a, um, serial killer? He's in the area, and he's targeting women at clubs like these... so," You lean forward, eyes not wavering from his, relishing in the way Spencer's eyes widen at the motion.

"So?" You prompt.

"So, uh, we're handing out those sketches," His hand, trembling slightly, comes up to point at the flyer in your hand. "and warning women to be on the lookout, not go home with anyone they don't know."

Your lips pinch slightly together, exaggerating your concern. "Oh god, Doctor Reid, that's really scary. What can I do to keep safe?"

His shoulders drop from where they were tensed near his ear, seemingly in his comfort zone here.

"Well, the unsub- the suspect is seeking validation from people, he wants women to chase him. If you meet any guys who try and play hard to get, possibly dressed flaboyantly, stay away and tell the police." You tilt your head questioningly, prompting him to continue.

"He's peacocking. It's a method that some people use to draw attention away from their faces. By using some ornate and distracting piece of clothing, he's diverting attention away from his face." His hands fly around him wildly as he speaks, long fingers wriggling and punctuating his words.

"Uh huh? So this... sweater." Your hand comes up, nearly unconsiously, to fiddle with the woolen texture of the sweater he's got on over his shirt. His hands still midair.

"It's distracting me plenty. Is that peacocking? But I've gotta say, I don't think anything would draw my attention away from that face." His eyes widen further, lips quivering as if he's struggling to come up with words.

"Um, I- I don't think, this isn't- isn't peacocking. This is just... how I dress." Your smirk widens further, hand still twisted in the collar of his sweater. The other agent, the one your friends pointed out earlier, sidles up behind him, but pauses, observing your conversation without butting in. You've only got a little time left.

"Well, I guess you're just that captivating then. You got a pen?" You let go of his clothes, watching him flounder for a second before pulling a pen out of his pocket, holding it out to you wordlessly.

Taking it with a smile, you begin to scribble your number down on the corner of the flyer in your hand.

"I think I'm missing out, if you dress like this every day." You finish writing with a flourish, tearing out your number and tucking it in his pocket along with his pen.

"Call me, okay? Keep me safe from the killer." You pat his shoulder, brushing past him with a smile.

(If the music were any quieter, you would've heard Spencer being interrogated by Derek the moment you leave, and the subsequent call to the rest of the team to inform them of the news. Penelope falls off her chair in excitement.)

[munsonsmixtapes]

Can I pls get Joel x reader where Joel is just absolutely feral and obsessed with reader and just loves cuddling up to her whenever he gets to chance and always try to creep a hand under her shirt just to feel her.

This can be smut or not smut, up to you if you want to make it that way!

Thank youu

You close the door behind you as you enter the house you share with Joel. He's asleep on the couch as usual, snoring away. You almost want to wake him for dinner, but you don't want to disturb him. He didn't sleep well last night so you want to let him get as much rest as he can.

You pass him to turn the tv off but his arm reaches out and wraps around you before you can get there. with both arms, he pulls you down on top of him, in desperate need of your attention.

"Joel," you let out a laugh. "I have to make dinner." You lean up to give him a stern look and he just smiles, the exact one that makes you melt every time you see it.

"Make it in a minute," he responds as his hand reaches up to stroke your hair. "Just lay here with me for a while." You can't say no to him so you lie back down on his chest, his heart beating loudly in your ear.

His hands slide under your shirt just like always, his rough hands resting against your bare lower back. Most times he's doing it to cop a feel, but not tonight. He just wants to lie with his girl. He presses a kiss to the top of your head as his hands move up and down your back, the thing he always does as a way to bring you comfort.

You lean up and stare at him, his warm brown eyes boring into yours, that dopey grin appearing on his lips. You lean down to kiss him and he eagerly returns it, smiling against your lips. He hasn't kissed you since you left this morning and in his opinion, that was far too long to go without one.

“I missed you,” he murmurs.

“I missed you too,” you reply, your tongue swiping along his bottom lip to deepen the kiss, but his stomach grumbles before you can go for it.

You pull away much to Joel’s disappointment. You get up off of him and help him to his feet, pulling him along to the kitchen.

He’s clingy as ever as you make dinner, standing behind you, his arms around your waist while he drops kisses to your shoulder, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. And once dinner is made, you sit right next to each other at Joel’s suggestion, hand in hand while you eat. And there’s no place either of you would rather be.

[svetamillss]

Headcanons: their reaction to your terrible burn on your face🩵

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f), Kang Dae Ho x Reader(f), Kang Sae Byeok x Reader(f), Nam Gyu x Reader(f)

Summary: Here will be your background. You had a disaster as a child. You got into an accident, after which you had a big burn on your face, which was on the left side, started from the forehead and ended almost near the nose, as the burn was strong enough, your left eye had to be removed. After that, people began to humiliate you and call you a monster. You started covering your burn with your hair, but it looked ridiculous, but you couldn't find any other way. Soon you were given a chance to have a skin and eye transplant, but this is a very expensive operation, you didn't have enough money. Therefore, you decided to agree to the offer to play games.

Warning: easy agnst, deviations from the plot.

A/N: I don't know if I managed to write normally, so I apologize in advance!

🩵🩵🩵

Cho Hyun Ju

You met the girl at the second game when she invited you to her team. You liked her right away, Hyun Ju was brave, sweet and very beautiful. After the second game, you and the guys decided to get to know each other better. Everyone told his story and why he decided to play deadly games. You learned from Hyun Ju that she is a trans girl and saves money for operations and Thailand, after that you liked her even more, it looks like you fell in love. But then it was your turn, everyone looked at you, waiting for you to tell. But you were afraid. You were afraid that they would turn away from you when they saw your ugly face, so you decided to leave the conversation.

- Oh... I'm sorry, I need to go to the toilet. - you quickly went to the toilet, leaving everyone looking at you with surprise.

- I think she was afraid to tell the reason.. - Young Mi said quietly, Hyun Ju also thought, so she followed you.

When she entered the room, she saw you standing near the mirror and crying, looking into it.

- How ugly I am... - you said without noticing the presence of another girl at all, only after Hyun Ju slowly approached you, you saw her and immediately began to hide your burn with your hair.

- You shouldn't be afraid of me. And shouldn't be afraid of face. - she turned you to her and carefully took you by the chin, looking at your face much better.

- Don't look..

- Tell me everything, I won't turn away from you. You'll feel much better. - and you gave up.

You told her your whole story, she listened carefully without interrupting, and when you finished, she very gently began to kiss the areas of your burn and the place where the eye used to be, you almost cried even more.

- Don't worry, I'll be next to you. And no one else will hurt you.

She didn't lie, you were able to get out of the game with her. Both paid off their debts and made the missing operations. Now you are preparing to move to Thailand, where you can get married and live happily.

Kang Dae Ho

You were able to survive the first game, although it barely worked out because you couldn't see everything with one eye.

A new day has come, the second game will start soon, and so far everyone has been given breakfast. But you didn't want to eat. You had no appetite. And you didn't want to contact people, you were afraid that everyone would see your burn and start laughing, so you sat alone.

But then your peace was disturbed by the guy who sat next to you, you tried not to pay attention to him.

- Hi, why are you sitting here alone?

- What does it matter to you? - you answered a little rudely.

- I just decided to get acquainted, I liked you in the first game. So why are you sitting alone? - he asked softly that you even began to believe in his sincerity, so you decided to immediately show him what you always hide and see what he will say later.

You quickly removed the hair on the left side of your face and he saw your burn, after which you hid it again.

- So what? Don't you like me now?

- No, I like you. Is it because of him that you don't want to meet someone?

- Yes, because usually people laugh at me when they see my burn and the absence of an eye. I was so sick of it that I decided to communicate less. - the guy gently stroked your head that you were even slightly embarrassed by his gesture.

- What fools. I'm Kang Dae Ho, now you have a friend who will protect you. - he smiled broadly, you realized that he was not lying, something told you that the guy would never betray you.

- And I'm Y/N.

- Beautiful name! Let's go for breakfast? You still need to gain strength before the game, don't worry, I'll be with you now.

And he was with you until the very end.

Kang Sae Byeok

You sat quietly and eat a very modest dinner. How three men approached you. You were very scared.

- Hey, bitch, give me your food. - said one of them.

- But this is my food. Each of us was allocated the same amount. You've already eaten yours. It doesn't give the right to approach and take away from me! - but they only laughed at your words.

- If you don't want it in a good way, it will be bad. - after that, the second one came up to you and pushed you in the chest, causing you to fall to the floor, along with your dinner.

- Fuck, what have you done! What was the point of pushing her? Now eat from the floor yourself.

- Ahahahaha, look at her face! - because of the fall, they had a view of your whole face, they could see your scar and you wanted to cry from this humiliation, because they looked at you and poked their finger, laughing.

- God, how scary you are!

- A nasty monster!

- Ahahaha, abomination, I even lost my appetite.

They could have humiliated you for a long time, but suddenly you heard a female voice.

- Hey, you freaks have moved away from her. - they turned around abruptly and saw a girl, player 067, who was looking at them with a murderous look.

- Oh, we don't need it. Let's go, guys, away from this horror. - they left, leaving you alone.

The girl came closer to you and stretched out her hand, which you immediately took.

- Don't pay attention. They don't know what they're talking about. And don't worry about the burn, you're still as sweet. - she left, leaving you alone.

After her words, you felt some lightness, player 067 was the first who did not humiliate you. In the following games you wanted to be a little closer to the girl and she seemed to let you do it.

Nam Gyu

You met the guy at the second game, when his team invited you to their place. You had to agree, because there was little time left. During the game, you accidentally showed your burn, it was noticed by players 230 and 124. The first one laughed, but the second one immediately hit him on the head. It even amused you a little.

After the game, you decided to take a nap, but you were prevented by player 124, who lay down on your bed without asking.

- Did something happen? - you didn't understand why he came, because you thought you were partners in one game.

- Excuse me, Thanos, he was just under the drugs and didn't think that there was no need to laugh.

- I'm used to it. And in general, I saw that you also took pills. - you said sarcastically, to which he smiled.

- And you're attentive, even with one eye. - You immediately looked at him angrily that he immediately fell silent.

- If that's all, you can go.

- No, not all. In general. You're pretty cute with this burn, you look like a superhero!

- You say it because of drugs, when the effect goes away, I'll be disgusting.

- Not at all! Believe me. - the guy said with plaintive eyes, you didn't understand what he needed from you, but he looked funny.

- Okay.

You agreed solely out of curiosity, but who knew that this jerk would be normal. If his friend talked about your burn, he immediately covered his mouth. Looks like he fell in love with you.

🩵🩵🩵

[bonbonly]

Hiiii ily so much, you feed my dark mind so well 💀

So here’s my thot…

Mask kink with Carlos? I was listening to São Paulo and I kept looking at the cover on Spotify and like…it dawned on me how HOT it’d be to have the mask and fear kink mixed together. Like SIR? hold me down 😩

𝐒𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: your sweet lovely neighbor invited you to a halloween party, and you - ever the clumsy, naive girl - got tricked more than treated. 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: this is a dark fic! you have been warned! do not read if you are not comfortable with dark fics or any of the following: noncon/dubcon, slapping, p in v, oral (f receiving), gunplay/gunfuck, choking, gaslighting, fingering 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i unashamedly enjoyed writing this bye like why'd you put this in my ask, i literally went FERALLLLL over it but i hope you enjoy it babes!!!

"good morning, carlos!" you chirped, opening the mailbox in front of your driveway. your slightly older neighbor waved at you, a charming smile that made butterflies fly in your stomach. he was wearing jeans that were snug against his thighs, a loose white t-shirt on and his cap backwards. his hair swept back under the cap, eyes all big and beautiful. you sighed, dreamily as you watched him head back into his house. your dreamy neighbor that always flirted with you when you came over to deliver his mail.

"the mailman just can't seem to differentiate our houses, hm?" you'd laugh, teetering on your toes. you caught a small glimpse of his house, hoping he'd let you in so you could "jokingly" see what your future house would look like. he'd flip through the mail, shaking his head with a chuckle,

"ay, hermosa, they must think i like planting pink roses in my free time," he'd snicker, tapping your head with his bundle of envelopes. it was just a playful gesture, really, but you'd blush to yourself and watch him close his front door. you'd sigh out loud, realizing your efforts of dropping subtle hints about your interest wasn't working and you skipped back over to your house, tending to your garden once more.

halloween was coming up around the corner and this year, the entire neighborhood was doing a competition for the spookiest house. you were determined to win it. going out of your way to buy extra decorations, you spent much of the week giving you front yard some spooky decor. a giant spider on one side, some skeletons doing some funny dances, and then of course the lights. you only ever did the lights at night so you wouldn't spoil the surprised for your neighbors. so, who else would you call to help you?

your trusty and super hot neighbor carlos of course! he was more than happy to help you, saying that you were always so clumsy, you'd be so lost without him! you climbed up the staircase, toying with the cables and tape before you smacked them into a straight line on the edge of your roof.

"fuck, i can't reach!" you cried out, "carlos, can you do this instead?"

"no, no, you have to do it, chica. you can do it," he grinned, pushing your ass up the ladder. you yelped in surprise at his hand under your skirt, and you swore you felt him squeeze your flesh. you glanced down at him, staring at this big innocent brown eyes. no, you must've imagined it! he wouldn't do such a thing! not your super sweet neighbor! you sighed, going up another step on the ladder to finish attaching the rest of the lights. you turned back to find carlos pointing his phone at you, a smirk on his lips, "for the memories. it's your first time going all out for the decor!"

you hopped off the ladder, smacking your hands with a smile, "thank you so much for the help, neighbor!" and you were going to return back to the comfort of your bed, when he was so gracious enough to finally let you in his house! you giddily accepted his offer, pushing past him towards his house. he laughed, eyes trained on the way your ass bounced under that skirt - if it even counted as one. he trailed behind you, watching you crash onto his couch.

grabbing the tv remote, he flipped through a couple channels while settling down next to you, "you like horror movies?"

"uh... not at night," you laughed, "i can handle anything in the light. just not in the dark. get a bit scared, yeah i know how embarrassing that is but it's the truth."

carlos nodded his head, landing on a horror film. he tossed the remote to the side, out of your reach. you gulped, already feeling a bit queasy at the gore on the tv and you felt bad about being in his house and demanding stuff from him. you shifted in your seat, averting your eyes to the nicely decorated walls, and then you felt his hand on your thigh. you glanced down at how big his hand was, and especially how it was inching closer to your clothed sex. you chuckled, thinking he must be a bit tired from helping you and you grabbed his hand, placing it back down on his lap. his eyes, which were originally transfixed on tv, snapped to you. a hard glare that you faced that made your skin crawl. he brought his back down on your thigh, squeezing your flesh harshly, enough for it to hurt. you cried out in pain, smacking him across his face. you grabbed your belongings, fleeing from his house. it surely didn't help that you lived right next door, but you locked your front door and ascended the staircase to your bedroom, holding back some tears. this had to be some sort of twisted nightmare. your sweet neighbor wouldn't do that to you! he'd only ever been nice! why would he think it was okay for him to touch you? you shook your head, taking off your clothes to slip into your nightwear and you buried yourself in the covers of your bed. it just had to be a dream!

and thankfully, that's exactly what your sweet neighbor told you the next morning at your door. he had a pot of petunias in his hands, that same warm smile on his face,

"morning, chica!" he greeted, "saw you had an empty spot in the garden. you know, i was going to the store and i saw this and said hmm, this looks like it belongs in (y/n)'s garden and so i bought it! no need to pay me back, i just want to make sure if anyone wins the halloween decoration contest it should be you!"

you stood there dumbfounded, wondering if the events of last night really happened. with much hesitance, you decided to test the waters, "a-aren't you mad at me?"

"mad at you for what?" carlos asked, furrowing his brows.

"i slapped you pretty hard yesterday," you replied, "because you were feeling me up, remember?"

carlos's jaw dropped, and his eyes darted around your front door. he shook his head in disbelief, "w-what? excuse me? i helped you with your decorations and then you went to sleep.."

"but it felt... it felt real, i knew that-"

"so you'd accuse me of touching you?" his shoulders fell, his lips forming into a thin line, "forgive me, hermosa. i spent 30 dollars getting these plants for you, and this is how you repay me? increíble. te esfuerzas por ayudar a una chica y ella no es más que una pequeña zorra," he muttered in spanish. you didn't understand what he was saying, but you figured it was something awful about you. you shook your head, taking the flowers from his hands,

"y-you're right. i'm so sorry. i must've just had a very vivid nightmare. i'm so sorry, carlos. how can i make it up to you? you did help me last night with all the decorations," you pouted. he licked his lips, eyes raking over your body still in your nightgown from last night and he shrugged.

"uh... déjame pensar, hmm...." he scratched his chin, fingers gliding up his jaw, "a good friend of mine down the street is hosting a halloween party. you should come over. i'll accept your apology if you sneak me extra chocolates."

you sighed in relief, extremely happy that your sweet neighbor was willing to forgive you for your foolishness. you giggled, nodding your head frantically, "yes, yes! i'll definitely do it! when's the party?"

"tomorrow and it starts at 10:00."

"that's kinda late for a halloween party," you frowned, and carlos rolled his eyes,

"are you coming or not?"

"i'm coming, i'm coming. just had to blurt out my thought, that's all. thank you very much for the flowers, carlos," you held up the pot in your hands, a sheepish smile on your lips as he walked off to his house. he looked gorgeous with that tight sweatshirt, his pecs barely contained under the fabric. how could you have ever thought of him in a bad light! he was such a sweetheart, buying you the petunias knowing that it would work well with your decorations. you pouted your lips at the thought, cooing at how pretty the petals were before heading back into your house.

you had picked out a really cute cat outfit for the night. it wasn't really meant to be revealing or sexy, just a cute outfit. a long black gown with black stockings, black cat ears and a tail to match. you had lipstick on your nose and used your eyeliner to draw whiskers. content with how your outfit turned out, you hummed to yourself as you left your house, locking your front door. the end of the street was a bit of a walk, and since it was dark outside you whipped out your phone as the flashlight to guide you. you came across a very shady house, only the front light on. no other decorations. that should've been your first warning to get back home, but you assumed it was part of the ambience for the party. you knocked on the front door, craning your neck to see if there's any light inside the house. no response. you scowled, grabbing the door knob only to find the door completely unlocked.

"hello?" you peered inside, flicking some of the switches on. when none of them seemed to be working, you glanced down at your phone and realized you were only at 20 percent. it would be pointless to waste all your phone battery trying to find people in the dark, "ok guys, come on now! jokes not funny!"

you bit your lip, your chest tightening at how dark it was around you. you really hated the dark. "i get that this must be some sort of sick joke. hello? anyone? c-carlos? someone? turn on the lights now!"

despite all your attempts at getting a response, none came. you huffed under your breath in annoyance, crossing your arms at how stupid you could be to come over to some random person's house. you only trusted the address because your sweet neighbor gave it to you. your ears perked up at the sound of metal jingling in the distance and you whipped your head around to to the kitchen. with cautious steps, you extended your arms out to feel the walls, using them as a way to guide you. in the darkness, you could make out what you assumed to be the kitchen counter, and then some cabinets above. the moonlight through the windows shone onto a small corner of the shelf, a flashlight on display for you to grab. you shook the device in your hands a couple times, turning the switch on and off before shaking it once more. a couple more harsh smacks to the side of the flashlight didn't do the trick either.

and then the front door clicked shut, the sound of a lock turning making your ears perk up.

"hello?" you called out once more, stepping out of the kitchen. the front door was a few feet away, the lock unmistakably turned on. one you heard the sound of metal chains dancing together, that's when your brain decided to gear up. you sprinted to the front door, crashing right into a pillar that helped support the structure of the house. you moaned in pain, hands clutched your forehead. clumsy little (y/n), never able to defend herself even if her life depended on it. the flashlight rolled around your frame as you rocked side to side, whispering small "ows". the door was just a feet away, and you extended your hand to crawl over when a firm boot stomped right onto your fingers.

"fuck!" you howled, the feeling of your bones being crushed coursing through your veins. you felt the boot drag down to your head, pressing your face against the wooden floor.

"shh, shhh...." a voice from above you cooed, "not a word from you. you have to be quiet."

"my fucking fingers," you hissed, curling your digits to see if anything was broken. the boot dug deeper onto your skin, almost choking you as you struggled to breathe. your voice was nothing more than strangled cries, your feet kicking around. within seconds, the mysterious man above you kicked your back, sending you rolling over into what you assumed was the living room. you coughed out loud, rubbing your sore face before feeling firm hands grip onto your ankles, dragging your body to the kitchen.

"who... who are you? let go of me!" you hollered, using your free hand to swat him away. you could barely see anything in the dark, and that only scared you more, "what's going on?" your attempts to sit up are thwarted when he brings his arm against your neck, pinning you onto the ground. his face was inches from yours, and you could smell him. he smelled familiar, a certain type of cologne that you remembered from somewhere but being so stricken by fear, your thoughts were all jumbled together. all you could think about was finding a way to escape. you took note of his white mask from the dim moonlight, a frown etched into the plastic material. with his free hand, he dragged his palm down your body, groping your lush tits. he had a rich laugh when you squirmed against him, trying to wriggle away.

"please, please let me go," you whimpered, feeling your hips being hoisted into the air as his hands snaked around to grab at your ass. he smacked the flesh of one cheek, fingers digging in to leave small crescents when he squeezed. he flipped you onto your stomach, pulling the tail tied around your waist and letting it snap against your skin. you gasped out loud, trying to process the way your skin stung afterwards. his hands slid up your back, curling into your collar before ripping apart your dress. you cried out loud, having worn nothing underneath save some black panties.

"a slut through and through," the man's accented voice whispered above your head, tearing at the fabric and bringing the rest of the material over your head. he tossed it to the side, and returned his hands to feel the rest of your body, "oh, mierda, i've dreamt about this for so long, so fucking long."

to emphasize his point, he smacked your ass a couple times before sinking his teeth in your flesh. your anguished wails did nothing to deter him, and you were sure he had bit hard enough to draw blood. your ass felt like it had been burned against a hot iron rod; your arms flailed behind your back, trying to push him off you but instead the stranger ripped your panties to pieces, spreading your ass as he spit down to the ring of muscle, watching it wink at him. his saliva trailed down to the edge of your cunt. you couldn't really tell what was going on but quite shortly, you felt your arms being guided behind your back, tightly bound before he grabbed your hips and once again pulled your ass up into the air. your legs wrapped around his, your back arched uncomfortably as you felt another wave of his saliva wash down against your cunt. you couldn't help but whine out loud when he wrapped his lips around your folds, nibbling on them as you shook your head. your bound arms thrashed into the air but it wasn't really helping you at the moment. his tongue delved into your pretty pussy, his deep moans vibrating through your core.

"please stop, i'm begging you! i don't even know who you are!" you whined, tears streaming down your face. your cries were cut short as a moan ripped through you, his thumb circling your clit as his tongue lapped at your sweet nectar. your could feel the edge of his mask hit your ass every time his tongue went deeper inside you. it swirled around in your tight walls like some festering parasite, eagerly waiting to ruin its host. his tongue traveled up to your asshole, circling the ring of muscle and that's when your screams became louder. "not there! stop it! let go of! let go or i'll scream so loud that-"

"keep screaming, no one will save you, zorra," he bit down on the globe of your ass, humming when you let out a sob. he buried his face between your cheeks, his tongue delving into your hole with a lewd sound. his tongue pushed deeper inside you, spreading your rim as his thumb went back to circling your clit.

"mmm, sabes tan bien gatito," he rasped, pulling back for a moment to admire his handiwork. your poor asshole winked in the cool air, glistening with his saliva. "i can't wait to feel this little ass squeezing my cock." he punctuated his words by spanking your ass hard, leaving more handprints on your soft flesh. you yelped, trying to wriggle away like a snake would but he gripped your hips harder, holding you in place as he dove back in, his tongue plunging into your asshole with renewed fervor.

the masked man's other hand slid around to your dripping pussy, his fingers pushing two digits knuckle-deep into your weeping cunt. he pumped them in and out, palm grinding against your clit with each thrust. the combination of his tongue on your ass, and fingers in your pussy transformed your screams into wanton moans.

"aww, is the puta enjoying what i give to her, i knew you'd come around," you could tell he was smiling as his fingers curled inside your gummy walls. the tightening coil inside your gut finally snapped as your juices gushed around him, soaking his black t-shirt. he laughed out loud, shoving you back onto the ground, "look at you, you ruined my shirt." he placed each of his feet on either side of your trembling body, gazing down at the way your face was filled with smudged make-up. your whiskers all askew, mascara streaming down your face. he grabbed you by the collar you had on, twisting it as you gasped out loud, struggling to breathe once more. you felt yours leg give away, watching him drag you back to the living room as he threw you onto the couch.

"who.... who even are you- oh!" you squealed, feeling his hand come across your face. it burned and you feel the iron tang of blood flood your mouth, you lip busted from the impact. he grabbed hold of your jaw, using his other hand to adjust his mask before slapping you once again. you were sure your face was bruised when he finished, your lip swollen almost as if to silence you for the entire duration he had you in this cursed house.

"cat got your tongue?" he chuckled, caressing your burning cheek with his thumb. when you didn't respond, he dug through his pockets for his phone, snapping a picture of you shaking on the couch with tears streaming from your face. you shielded your eyes from the flash, and through your fingers you caught sight of his hair swept back. you recognized the silkiness of it. you knew this person, but you just couldn't understand where. before you could open your mouth to ask the same question that's been bothering you all night, you heard the click of a gun, the barrel pressed against your forehead. "i think you know what to do right now, right?"

you shook your head, your bottom lip quivering and the man in front of you laughed, using the barrel to wipe away your tears, the cold metal making you hiss. you gulped when he dug the gun into your neck, your body shaking as a new wave of tears washed over you. "you're going to fuck yourself on my gun. come on spread those legs."

his request made you freeze in place and when he placed the gun right onto a prominent artery in your neck, you whimpered and nodded your head, reluctantly spreading your legs.

"there we go," he cooed, "see, puta, you can learn."

he spit on the barrel of his gun, rubbing the saliva around before crouching down to see your womanhood clenching the air, bracing yourself for what was about to happen. you rubbed the barrel of the gun along your wet slit, the cold metal sending jolts of sensation through your core. you felt your juices on the metal barrel, making it slick and shiny as your dragged it over your clit and pushed it inside you. you whimpered, throwing your head back onto the couch as you stared at the ceiling, trying to convince yourself that this was all another horrible nightmare.

"fuck, look at you, getting off on my gun," the masked man taunted, "you're even more depraved than I thought. sabía que eras una puta sucia, pero esto..." you bit your lip hard, trying to stifle a moan as you began to move, fucking yourself on the gun with very hesitant thrusts. "louder, you quiet little whore," the masked man scoffed, his other hand coming down on your inner thigh. you whined out loud, nodding your head and letting out small, forced moans. sensing that you were trying too hard to make noises, and pressed the metal deeper into you. a satisfied growl escaped his lips when you cried out loud, arching your back.

"fuck, that's too big... please, that's too big," you moaned, bucking your hips to push the barrel out of you but instead the masked man took the opportunity to drive it deeper inside you, pulling it out before slamming it right back in. you screamed out loud, feeling the gun stretch you open as the man snorted,

"scream for me, puta. i want to hear every single noise clearly."

your hips rocked back and forth, taking the gun as much as you could. you panted, tongue stuck out as the man shoved his fingers into your mouth, dragging the gun in and out of you with a much faster pace than before. you struggled to handle the girth of the gun, your eyes rolling the back of your head. he slapped your face gently so that your eyes snapped back to his masked face. the emptiness you faced scared you, it made you sob at how defiling this felt and yet you could feel your orgasm approaching once more. the smell of your arousal mixed with uncontrollable fear spread through the room, and he could feel your pussy fluttering around the barrel of the gun, your juices flowing freely as you fucked yourself into oblivion. your cunt spasmed around the barrel of the gun as you cummed, gushing your release over the cold metal. the masked man watched as your juices splattered onto the floor, forming a puddle beneath the couch.

"no puedo contenerme más, i need to feel you around my cock," the man moaned, unbuckling his belt. your still bound hands weakly thrashed once more, your eyes glossed over. your mind was spinning, still not over the last orgasm. the gun was tossed the side, and he grabbed hold of your jaw so that you faced him not the weapon that you just fucked. he fumbled with his zipper, shoving his pants down as he let his cock spring up, the sound of his member slapping against his stomach echoing in the room. you could feel the warmth of his body radiate off him; it was suffocating. you shook your head, trying to plead your way out of this. you already did everything else he asked for! you just wanted to go home and get ready for the halloween house contest tomorrow! he gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your abused flesh as he placed the swollen head of his cock against your sensitive clit. he smacked the tip against your pearl, watching you mewl out loud at oversensitivity. with one brutal thrust, he slammed his hips forward, burying his massive cock deep into your cunt. you felt the air get knocked out of your lungs, silent screams falling from your lips as he stretched you open, his thick shaft forcing its way past your gummy walls. tears streamed down your face as he began to move, fucking you hard and fast, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each thrust.

"this cunt was made to be ruined, made to milk my cock, hecha para ser mia" he growled, snapping his hips faster against you. the sound of skin against skin did little to calm you down, instead your ears rang and when he began to rub your clit, you were sobbing out loud at how everything felt... felt so good. your mind a dizzy mess, not following along with what was happening.

between moans you once again asked the million dollar question on your mind, "w-who are you? who are you?"

"come on mi vida," he scoffed, almost as if he was insulted that you kept asking the same question, "use that pretty brain of yours you know exactly who i am. i've seen the way you look at me." but as he drilled into your cunt, you really didn't know. you couldn't think, your brain on overdrive, too caught up with the sensation of his thick cock filling you up like the whore that you were. your let your legs wrap around his waist, pushing him further into you on instinct and he laughed, using his hands to pull his sweat-stained shirt over his head. his mask came off, and in the dark you could barely see the outline of his hand running through his silky hair.

"t-the mask, your mask," you whimpered, narrowing your eyes to try and focus on the voice. the outline of his jaw, you recognized him. you knew who it was, the name was on the tip of your tongue. quite suddenly, he pressed the mask against your face, hardly giving you enough room to breathe.

"you wanted to know who i am with my mask off, we can work in different ways hermosa, i'm not picky," the man snickered. your head was buried into the couch's cushions, and you could see black spots clouding what was left to see in the dark. as your final orgasm of the night shot through you, the man pulled the mask away from you and let you breathe as you screamed out loud, squirting all over his cock. he groaned out loud, emptying his load as he shot ropes of his cum inside your cunt. he loved the way your cunt clamped down on him, constricting him as he watched you create a new puddle of your juices onto the ground. he pulled out of you, watching his cum leak out of you. he caught hold of his phone again, zooming in to see your cream-pie'd cunt and when the flash took hold of the dark room, the last thing you saw before passing out was your sweet neighbor carlos grinning at your fucked out body.

it was late in the afternoon the next day when you finally came back to your sense. your entire body felt sore, as if you had been roasted alive over a wood of fire. with shaky legs, you stumbled out of your bedroom, looking around the living room. you were back in your house, but you didn't know how. you still felt the feeling of your cunt being stretched out, and your head was throbbing in pain. the doorbell to your door rang and you glanced out the window to see carlos there with a bag of chocolates. you scowled, remembering how he towered over you the night before. not wanting to be too suspicious, you opened the door and stood there with a very worried expression on your face.

"carlos... how... nice to see you," you whispered, gulping.

"ah, hermosa! i'm so glad you're doing better! you know last night, the craziest thing happened! i was coming to pick you up for the halloween party but ever the eager girl, you fell from your ladder and hit your head!" he shook his head, "mi niña torpe, you can never go a day without hurting yourself!"

"i fell off a ladder?" you asked, tilting your head.

"yeah! you hit your face pretty badly," he winced, bringing a hand to cup your cheek. the warmth of his palm made you moan a bit, closing your eyes in relief. you and your vivid nightmares. your sweet neighbor would never do this to you! he was always looking out for you. you almost wanted to mention the bad dream, but then remembered how he got offended the last time you revealed what happened when you were asleep. you decided to keep your mouth shut and invited him into your house, taking the bag of chocolates.

"the halloween house contest will start soon," you grinned, limping to the couch to sit down. "you should sit down carlos, we have a few hours before the kids arrive. maybe you could help me organize the goodie bags!"

when you looked up, you saw him towering over you. he ran a hand through his hair, tossing the tv remote in his hand a couple times before dragging it down your neck,

"we have time, mi vida, we can spend time together alone until then," and he watched you furrow your brows, starting to understand what he was hinting towards, "you want to watch a horror movie?"