#yo the whole gangs here

[nefarious-smartass]

“leave the demons to his demons”

((can you guys believe the funny jumpscare bear franchise is officially 10 years old now?))

[digitald0rk]

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* NERD ALERT ! [ 1 ]

pairing — mark grayson x gn!reader.

synopsis — in which mark falls for the new comic book store employee who matches his nerd [ and he hopes his freak too :3 ] and realizes he wants that effing cookie SO BADD.

warnings — super duper self indulgent! mark being mark, mention of blood like once. sappiness overload RAHHHH. not proofread.

w.c — 2.1 k.

a/n — this is part 1 btw, the second part's gonna be focused y'all's relationship. this is SO SO SLEF INDULGENT LMAO. i am that annoying little fly that keeps buzzing when it comes to my interests, my ass keeps going, "holy shit is that xyz reference???" :0 like GIRL STOP PULLING THESE REFERENCES OUT YO ASS 🤓 if you're like this too just know i think you're super based and awesomesauce gang :D BE ANNOYING ABOUT YOUR INTERESTS!! it's honestly so refreshing, anyways :p lemme know what you think of this!

taglist — @vm4879bb-blog [ lemme know if you wanna be added too ]

READ PART [ 2 ] HERE.

it was another normal ordinary day, he was just binging the new volumes of seance dog in his favorite little comic book store because being a superhero leaves no time for that, thank god he has some time off.

it was another normal ordinary day, that is until you walked in.

well more like look insanely good behind that cash register.

he asks himself, mind racing a mile a minute, how has he never noticed you before? are you a new employee? why the hell is his heart beating so fast? are you single?

the moment he sees you smile at some customer, he's doomed.

he has to talk to you. he has to-

oh god wait. he's been staring, hasn't he? no no no! what if you think he's some loser or worse a creep. [a weirdo what the hell am i doing hereeeee sorry had to lol]

and when your gazes meet for a split second, he whips his head away way too fast, if he wasn't a viltrumite he definitely would've gotten whiplash, his eyes immediately zeroing on the comic in his hand, which is actually upside down. not that he realizes because he's too busy thinking about how he'd love to get lost in your pretty eyes, he needs to get a grip, what is he fourteen?

it's just some dumb fleeting infatuation and-

then he hears a laugh. peeking up from the still upside down seance dog volume, hoping to god it's not your laugh because if it is, he longs to hear it again.

it was your laugh. oh he's in deep.

and he swears he's never heard a more beautiful thing. sap.

he needs to be the reason to make you laugh.

oh shit he's holding it upside down, hopefully you didn't notice (*_*;)

it takes him a whole ass week to muster up the courage to talk to you, he'd only check out with his new additions and issues when it wasn't your shift.

he's checked himself in the mirror a gazillion times, his hair looks okay, maybe he should've worn the blue shirt, it makes his eyes pop out-

he's mark grayson, he's invincible for fuck's sake.

still his palms grow sweaty as he approaches you to check out, little do you know he already has these volumes, he's just desperate to talk to you okay.

"hi." and great, his voice cracks.

but your sweet smile makes him forget about it. he watches you as you scan his items, typing away as you do so.

he kind of wants to hold your hand. is that bad?

"so, seance dog huh?" oh shit you're making conversation with him? oh my god calm down calm down calm down-

"yeah, it's uh one of my favs." he flashes a small smile, a nervous one.

"no way! same!" you beam at him, sheepishly showing him the small seance dog hair clip holding your hair in place like it's some sort of national treasure.

you're telling him that you, the cute comic book store employee he's been crushing on for weeks now, likes seance dog?

he's dreaming.

he has to be.

right?

then you say something, something only a huge seance dog fan would know.

and he swears he hears wedding bells, he can already see walking down the aisle.

it takes him a ridiculously long time to recover, eyes widening comically as he processes that this is infact not a dream.

"you okay there?" you ask slightly amused.

your voice breaks him out of that little trance you just unknowingly put him in, his eyes flitting to the name tag on your shirt-

he can't help himself from muttering your name, soft and reverent like a prayer.

a little flustered giggle leaves your mouth.

oh.

oh.

he made you laugh? he feels like he's on top of the world, he introduces himself, his smile widening when he shakes your offered hand.

william's gonna have a field day with this one.

after that one conversation, he's grown comfortable around you over the past few weeks.

and he's fallen even deeper in love.

he's less tense and awkward around you, rambling about everything and anything, conversation flows easily between you two now.

you'd call him the second you'd read the new volumes of your shared favorite comics to talk to him about it, he does the same.

he puts you on his favorite comics, you put him on yours along with whatever you're big into. it's a win-win really.

he's never been happier.

you make him feel so seen.

he doesn't feel the need to hide parts of himself from you. he loves when you buy him matching merch or just little trinkets of his interests.

rex made fun of mark's little italian charm bracelet once, because what do you mean the strongest man on the planet has a matching charm bracelet with all the things he loves on it that he always wears?

it actually broke the first time he wore it to a fight because obviously, what was he thinking? gets very sad when he can't find all the pieces to put it back together, asks cecil to remake it with some metal that won't break from the impact of alien attacks or whatever decides to mess with the peace of earth the next time. he gets all pissy when he gets blood on it :(

"aw that's adorable!" rex would tease him, but mark would just get all excited because he gets to talk about you <3

cue him rambling about all the things you made for him or got for him that align with his favorite pieces of media and interests, rex does NOT understand half of those words but hey as long as invinciboy's happy.

rex is not making that mistake again lol, also he thought you were dating mark because of the way his eyes turn into literal hearts whenever you're mentioned, so imagine the look on his face when mark's all bashful like, "nah i wish :(" rex goes, "man you two are so fucking oblivious." and he's right.

even outside of your little nerdy conversations and hang outs, when he comes to you for comfort, he feels safe.

and that — feeling safe, not being on edge 24/7 isn't easy for him, but you make it easier than breathing.

he feels loved when you hold him, rub his back and make some dumb joke when he's having a bad day.

he lives for the references you make out of nowhere.

"holy shit is that-" you start excitedly.

"i was just gonna say that!" he laughs.

pointing out things that he thinks are references to his favorite media and you joining him, this has to be love.

"why does that cloud lowkey look lik-" he starts and you finish his sentence for him, he laughs at how you two are almost always on the same wavelength.

once the secret is out that he's invincible, he'll literally just fly to some foreign country to get you what you want, oh what's that? a new figurine of your favorite anime just dropped? it's only available in japan? it's already yours <3 anything for you, he's whipped. [ god bless his bank account i imagine it's in negative LMAOOOO because his ass is definitely not letting u pay :( ]

and when you oh so sheepishly hand him the seance dog plushie you crocheted for him as his birthday present, muttering something along the lines of how "it's not good enough" or "it looks a little funny", i mean yeah seance dog has seen better days for sure where his eyes are the same size, he has to physically stop himself from kissing you senseless, because how dare you be this thoughtful and sweet.

yeah he's in love alright.

after a lot of restless nights and convincing from william, he finally decides to ask you out after six months of longing and yearning.

you two are currently in your room, hanging out. you had invited him over to watch the new reboot of your favorite sci fi series, although the internet seems to have a different plan as the video keeps buffering and loading.

you groan in annoyance, refreshing the page, still nothing.

so when you give up and let it do it's thing, aka the good ol "pretending not to care so it'll load faster", mark takes this as a sign.

"hey uh-" he opens his mouth, he's going to piss himself, he can't do this.

"yeah?" you reply. he sounds awfully nervous.

he stares at you, holding your gaze, lips slightly parted before taking a deep breath.

he ends up immediately blurting out the words he'd practiced a thousand times, "iloveyousomuch", his words are hurried as if he's scared you'll leave him if he's not quick enough.

he pauses, realizing this isn't exactly going to plan. he has just confessed his feelings, it's done now. there's no going back from this and that scares him.

he's also considering just making a run for it, or well fly for it, your window's open afterall.

he avoids your gaze like the plague, the ground suddenly very interesting.

he hesitantly adds, "i have for awhile now actually", might as well serve his heart on a silver platter to you it's all yours anyways, it beats for you, he thinks.

his cheeks are flushed a pretty pink. he can't stop his mouth, it moves on it's own, "im sorry if- if this ruins our friendship i just-"

"i love you too mark", you can't help yourself from confessing back, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"i just can't do this, i can't be friends when everytime i look at you i want to ki-" wait.

it's actually adorable the way he looks at you all wide eyed when his brain finally processes what you said.

did you just say you love him back?

nope, that's just his terrible hearing that comes with being a superhero, all wishful thinking.

but the way you're looking at him tells him otherwise and your words only confirm that his hearing is perfectly fine.

"you were saying?" you tease him, daring him to finish that sentence.

thank god the teasing is back, this is familiar territory. his nerves calm down a bit.

a minute of silence passes before he speaks.

"so that just happened", he chuckles, he wants to be all suave and cool and say something that'll make you blush, but he can't.

he doesn't need to.

because that's not him, he's mark grayson, he's awkward, a sweetheart and a big nerd. he just needs to be himself to make you swoon.

you know this, he knows this.

he knows you accept him for who he is, so he doesn't think twice about leaning in when you reach out to cup his face, leaning in as well.

your acceptance, your love, you. that's all he needs.

and the moment your lips meet his he realizes those six months were worth it.

he gently pulls you closer by your waist, his touch hesitant, it takes all his power to not just pull you flush against him and show you just how much he adores you.

when you pull him closer by the neck, his toned chest brushing against yours, he has to stop from letting out a small pleased groan.

you're just as desperate as he is.

kissing you like this is dizzying, he can even taste the sweetness and slight tang of the strawberry dessert you two had shared earlier on your lips and it only serves to drive him crazier.

his body practically aches when you pull away, chasing your lips. he can't get enough.

"easy alien boy", you chuckle, trying to catch your breath — resting your forehead against his, nose scrunching a little when he kisses the tip of it, nuzzling his own nose against yours afterwards.

his smile is sickeningly sweet and contagious. "i love you", he whispers.

and when you whisper it back he giggles happily, pressing a kiss to your head - he pulls you in his warm embrace. relishing in the feel of your body against his, fitting like a missing puzzle piece.

it's like you were made for him.

a scream from the tv ruins the intimate atmosphere, ah so now it decides to load. you two stare at each other, a collective look of "are you seeing this shit" is exchanged before you two burst into laughter.

both of you could care less about the show playing on the tv, too busy indulging in long passionate sweet kisses.

"the new issue of batm-" you jokingly start against his now swollen lips.

"baby! we're kinda having a moment here", he scoffs playfully, the dumb lovesick smile on his face only widening.

"no but seriously the new issue sucked ass. they mischaracterized him sooo bad and-", he complains, not moving a centimeter away from your lips.

"and you're a nerd" you cut him off, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt for another kiss.

"hey that's friendly fire!" he hopes you'll always shut him up with a kiss <3

© digitald0rk 2025. do not steal any of my works :[ thank you for reading, interactions are always appreciated and welcome! want more? click here ★

[i-like-writing-stuff]

never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]

a/n: hi y’all! it’s been a hot minute since i’ve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it 🙌

its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i haven’t written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao

summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate

“Happy birthday, little Gracie!” You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, “Oh my gosh, look at you! You’re just getting prettier by day, aren’t you?”

You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girl’s birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldn’t bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.

After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldn’t exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.

“Auntie Y/N!” She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, “You are here!”

Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.

“You literally saw each other the other day,” Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadn’t seen each other in years.

You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.

These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings you’d grown to love.

Some in different ways than others.

“Uncle Five, you’re always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,” Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, “Jealousy isn’t a good look on you anyway.”

“What is a good look on him anyway?” You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;

“Okay, munchkin, it’s your birthday today, but tomorrow I’m going back to bullying you,” He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, “You’re lucky your gift has no return policy.”

The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Grace’s age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.

“Y/N, I’m so glad you could make it!” Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, “Haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving!”

“Big shot lawyer doesn’t always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?” Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughter’s gift in his hands.

“Big shot delivery driver doesn’t know the phone works both ways, huh?” You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.

Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didn’t always have the time to be present in the Hargreeves’ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all you’ve been through, you didn’t need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.

After everything that’s happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was “professionally dancing”, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.

“Well, you two are as annoying as always,” Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.

“Please try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,” You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, “There’s only so much favors I could owe the DA.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Ben groaned, “I don’t even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.”

“I sized up to B recently, thank you very much,” You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.

“Okay, Gracie, not a conversation you’d wanna hear,” Five spoke up, putting his niece down, “Your aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.”

“Funny coming from you,” You couldn’t help but wave him off.

You didn’t come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brother’s dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. It’s not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didn’t exactly have the time to hang out.

At least, not as much as you’d have liked.

Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.

He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.

And never once did you notice that.

Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.

“You know Grace is my niece too, right?” He couldn’t drop the small smile even if he wanted to.

“Since when are you such a family man?” You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.

“Oh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,” He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.

You two never changed.

“Please, I was there for the twins birth,” You waved him off.

You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?

You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldn’t take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.

Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldn’t help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever he’d look at you.

“You’re doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,” Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.

“I got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,” Ben shrugged his shoulders, “I’m gonna go get shitfaced.”

“Always a delight seeing you, Benjamin,” Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;

“This is a six year old’s birthday party!”

You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldn’t help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“Spit it out, Hargreeves.”

“I said it’s nothing!”

“Fuck you.”

“Why?”

You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.

When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.

“Aunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!” Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.

“You heard the birthday girl!” You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.

Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.

[slasherscream]

the absolute INSANITY of the pushing your s/o away thing with the crazy ass boy gang… it’s like triggering a dog’s prey drive but for serial killers w abandonment issues

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + PUSHING THEIR HAND AWAY/REJECTING AFFECTION

❥ who gets pissed the fuck off ❥

Billy Loomis - Is irritated off rip. Billy plays it cool but he needs physical affection from you. He’s casual about it so he flies under the radar, but this is a stage five clinger. He’s always doing something small. Touching your fingers. A hand on your back. Neck. Sitting behind you instead of putting you directly in his lap. It’s little stuff. Hovering. Smack his hand away one of these times and his jaw clenches right away. “What the hell is your problem?” Please snuggle up to him and don’t start world war 3. It’s not worth the joke. 

Kevin Khatchadourian - Quick question, why do this to yourself? Kevin does not need, nor does he particularly enjoy, physical contact. Period. He is gracious enough to give you physical contact because he knows you’re built different (pathetic). For you to then turn around and spit in the face of him being kind enough to meet your needs? …. Quite crazy of you. The look he gives you is pure confusion because he’s honest to God baffled. What do you want to accomplish here? Go ahead and start begging now, because he’s not touching you for a long while. 

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - Swings wildly between damn near dodging any physical affection you attempt to give him to hanging off you like a squid on a ship. No in-between. For you to have the audacity to reject him when he’s feeling clingy? How dare you. He doesn’t have to beg anyone for attention! Did you forget who you’re dating? Doesn’t even care if you did it with obvious playfulness. He’s sensitive. He’s tender. He’s a bitch. He goes to get up and leave entirely and you have to grab him and beg him to cuddle so this doesn’t become a week long cold war. Happy ego stroking! 

Stu Macher - What you’re not about to do is ruin his mood. Baby, he’s about to ruin yours. How about that? If you push his hands off you once he enjoys a little playful bitchiness. Playing hard to get. He likes to chase, it’s cool. Twice? Okay…. We’re irritating him. Three times? He’s gonna grab your hand, stop smiling, and stare at you. When he places his hand back where it belongs, on your thigh, don’t act up again. He could make your whole week go to shit. Don’t start wars you won’t win. He’s the king of playing stupid games and winning stupid prizes. 

Nathan Prescott - Has to bluster and get visibly pissed off because he is rejection sensitive to a degree that is astounding, frankly. Let you see him upset after he tried to be affectionate and you said no? Hah! Not fucking likely. Being physically affectionate in the first place doesn’t come easy to him. Quality time is more his speed. Even worse if it wasn’t a sexual advance he was making. He tried to wrap an arm around you and you shrug him off? You’ll be lucky to get a hello out of him for the next week. Good luck soldier.

David Mccall - Outwardly, he pretends to be despondent and sheepish when you bat his hand away. He’s using sadness as a shield. If he’s sad then you might feel bad and give in. He’ll use any tool in his arsenal to get his way. One of his greatest skills is speaking in a soft voice, just shy of how you’d speak to a toddler, and telling you: “I didn’t mean to upset you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” This is all to hide the fact that you rejecting him in any way, shape, or form makes him so angry he can barely think. You might be able to catch the rage hidden behind the veil. If you’re quick enough. David puts on a convincing show, but his gentle smile is twitching at the edges.

❥ who gets sad and mopey ❥

Jordan Li - Oh you pushed them away? No, that’s cool, it’s totally fine. You can want space. Everyone’s entitled to their own space bubble. Of course. Are you having a bad day? Are you mad at them? Did they do something wrong? Did they piss you off? These are the types of questions Jordan is going to “casually” ask for the next ten minutes while they sit really close to you. They’re not touching you! They always sit with their legs spread so wide. Their arm isn’t around you, it’s on the back of the couch. You’re nitpicking here, babe. They’re staring at you with their big brown eyes. No, they didn’t get any closer while you weren’t looking. 

Josh Washington - Why would you do this to him? Don’t push his hand off you unless you mean it or you’re being obviously playful about it. If you pretend to be mad at him while you do it, no matter how unconvincing of an actor you are, he will believe you. Sensitive king. He also won’t go to touch you again until you initiate the contact. Physical touch is reassuring and comforting to him but even he (category five clinger) gets touch aversion at times. As observant as he is, he knows some people are uncomfortable asserting their boundaries, so they’ll try to soften the blow of saying no by being “playful”. He cannot take the risk! You could mean it but don’t want to hurt his feelings. Josh interprets many playful no’s as real ones. Better safe than sorry.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Sebastian Valmont - Doesn’t take it for anything more than what it is. If you’re being playful he recognizes it. If you’re seriously not wanting to be touched at any given moment he understands that as well. However, in the case of being playful, you’ve started a war you can’t win. Because, as much as Sebastian enjoys chasing you…  Sebastian also likes to be chased. Ten minutes from now you’ll go to give Sebastian’s cheek a kiss and he’s going to dodge you. Hard. To such an extent it’s bordering on insult. He’ll be wearing a cat that got the canary grin all the while. 

Jason Dean/JD - Doesn’t take you seriously even if you are dead serious. I’m sorry, you’ve discovered his worst character trait by far. Most boundaries are a joke to him. He always wants to touch you. He loves you! He craves you like a drug. You should feel the same for him, in equal measure and desperation. So why wouldn’t you want him touching you? Holding you close. He’s so gentle with you (usually). His arms should feel like home. No matter how long a day you’ve had. No matter how overwhelmed you might be with sound, sight, touch. In JD’s eyes you’re one soul in two bodies. He always wants you near. He knows you want the same. You’re just a little dramatic sometimes.

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #15 死

† arrangements †

"You were supposed to go back to individual training sessions with Takama. But torday, it is Jeon standing there instead. And you really feel like easing off some tension."

next | index

⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 9k.

content: training with jeon (it gets intense), sexual tension off the roof, kissing, ass grabbing, boner popping up (lmao), cafeteria shenanigans.

☠ author's note ☠

AHHHHH MY PRECIOUS BABY CHIMCHIM (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

What are you getting yourself INTO, you financial genius disaster? Every time I write Jimin scenes I'm just sitting here like "no baby no don't do it" while simultaneously typing out exactly what he's doing. I'm his god yet I have no control. The duality of being an author.

ANYWAY, let me know your thoughts about Y/N and Jeon's little "arrangement". ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Also... the way this man goes from cheeky little shit to MAN OF STEEL in 0.2 seconds is honestly doing things to me. Like the DUALITY?? One minute he's all sarcasm and eyerolls and the next he's all commanding presence and intense stares. Please show me all your facets while I mil—

ANYWAY! 🥰

Hope you enjoy this chapter, you magnificent disaster magnets! I see you all in the comments thirsting over fictional gang members and I just want you to know I'm judging you... from my very similar position of also thirsting over fictional gang members. It's a hard life, but someone's gotta live it.

Stay hydrated! You'll need it after this chapter!

⚔ socials ⚔

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

Training room it is today. Takama is probably waiting for you.

You step inside immediately and—fuck. The air's different. Not the usual sweaty, stale gym smell, but something...else. It's like walking into a storm front, all electric and tingly on your skin.

Weird.

You stop, blinking. Your brain's trying to process what your body already knows: something's off.

Shaking it off, you scan the room for Takama. He's usually here by now, ready to nag you about your form or whatever. But nope. Instead, your eyes land on—

Oh.

Jeon.

Shit.

Your whole body goes rigid. This is not what you signed up for today. Takama's stern but predictable. Jeon? He's a walking thunderbolt.

He hasn't clocked you yet. He's too busy with his hand-wrapping ritual, black tape winding around those knuckles like he's prepping for war. I̶t̶,̶s̶ ̶w̶e̶i̶r̶d̶l̶y̶ ̶m̶e̶s̶m̶e̶r̶i̶z̶i̶n̶g̶.̶You've tried it yourself, but you always end up looking like you got in a fight with a roll of duct tape and lost.

The door clicks shut behind you. Loud. Way too fucking loud.

Jeon's head snaps up, eyes locking onto yours. Fuck. It's like being caught in a headlight beam, but instead of deer-in-headlights frozen, you're fight-or-flight wired. His gaze is pure Kkangpae—hard, sharp, seeing right through your bullshit.

"Thought you could sneak up on me?"

You try for casual, miss by a mile. "Takama's usually not this quiet."

Jeon's mouth twitches. Not quite a smile. More like you just told a joke only he got.

Great start. This is gonna be fun.

"Takama had to handle some business. Guess you're stuck with me. It'll be good in preparation to our upcoming mission."

IIt's not a question, it's a fucking statement. And you know better than to argue with that tone.

Right. The mission.

Shit.

It all comes flooding back now. That goddamn mission assigned to you and Jeon back on the camping trip. The one where you both have to infiltrate MDF—Kkangpae's number one rival. Talk about high stakes.

You know how crucial this is. You know you need to concentrate now—more than ever.

But fuck.

Your eyes betray you, sweeping over Jeon's training attire.

It's insulting, is what it is.

That simple tank top might as well be painted on, doing jack shit to hide the sculpted landscape of his muscles. And those grey sweatpants? They're hanging so low on his hips it should be illegal.

(If you tried hard enough—which you're not, obviously—you're pretty sure you could see that happy trail you remember from that night in the tent.)

The fabric clings to him like it's got a personal vendetta against your sanity, obeying gravity with a lazy kind of insolence. And that silver neck chain? It's playing peekaboo from under his top, daring your eyes to follow its path. A metallic tease against skin you shouldn't be thinking about.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of distraction.

Focus. Mission. Training.

Not Jeon's body.

You make your way to the corner where bandages and tape are strewn across a metal shelf. The mess speaks volumes—countless sessions of wrapping, unwrapping, preparing for fights both won and lost.

Grabbing a roll of black tape, you try to mimic what you've seen Jeon do a hundred times before. But your fingers feel clumsy, uncooperative. The tape sticks to itself, to your skin, everywhere but where it's supposed to go. You end up with more gaps than protection, the wrap loose in all the wrong places.

And Jeon? He's watching you. You can feel his eyes on you, sharp and intense. His face is unreadable, a perfect mask. But you'd bet your last dollar he's judging every fumbled attempt, every misplaced piece of tape.

Then he scoffs, the sound cutting through the air like a whip crack. Before you can react, he's moving towards you—footsteps echoing in the quiet room, each one making your heart beat a little faster.

And then he's there, right in your space.

The heat rolling off his body makes you acutely aware of how cool the air is around you.

He leans in close—too close—to inspect your sad attempt at hand-wrapping.

"Let me," he growls.

You don't even try to argue. What's the point? Jeon's already unraveling your sad attempt at hand-wrapping like it's the world's shittiest birthday present.

His fingers brush against your skin and for a second it's like someone just plugged you into a live wire.

He starts rewrapping your hands, and you're caught in this weird... limbo.

Because his touch is firm, almost stern, but there's this... gentleness to it that makes no sense coming from him.

It's a mindfuck, really.

This is Jeon. Cold, distant, get-the-fuck-away-from-me Jeon.

But here he is, handling your hands like they're made of glass.

Your heart's going a mile a minute, and you're praying to whatever gang deity is out there that he can't hear it. His hands are everywhere, wrapping the tape around your wrists with a precision that's almost artistic. It's like he's crafting this black armor just for you, and every pass of the tape feels more intimate than the last.

And why the fuck does he have to smell this good? It's unfair, really.

Every now and then, his eyes flick up to meet yours, and it's... like looking into the sun peeking between the clouds.

Like something is hovering—something molten and wild that reminds you of tents and nighttime.

"Tight enough?"

You manage a nod, amazed that your brain can still form coherent thoughts.

"Perfect," you say, definitely not thinking of the innuendo.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and for a heart-stopping second, you think he's read your mind. You don't like that knowing look in his eyes.

"There," he says, giving the tape one last tug. It pulls you closer, just a fraction, but it might as well be a mile. "You're ready."

Ready for what? you want to ask. Ready for training? Ready for the mission? Ready for whatever the hell this tension between you is building towards?

But you don't say any of that. You can't. Because this is Jeon, and you're you, and there are a million reasons why this—whatever this is—can't happen.

Even if it already happened once. Even if he's there, looking like a five course meal.

So you just stand there, hands wrapped perfectly, heart racing, caught in the gravity of Jeon's presence and wondering how the fuck you're supposed to focus on training now.

"Let's get started."

It hits you like a sledgehammer to the chest—everywhere at once—this massive storm system rolling in, all dark clouds and electricity. The kind that makes your skin prickle and your hair stand on end. The training room suddenly feels too small to contain it.

Contain him.

You move to the center of the mats, too aware of every step and where your feet are landing. He's still watching you—you can feel those eyes tracking your movements like a sniper's scope.

You try to copy his stance, but it's like your body's forgotten how joints work.

Everything feels awkward.

"How are you with your blocks?"

"I can handle it," you say, going for confident but landing somewhere around defensive.

He laughs. It's not a nice sound. More like broken glass wrapped in velvet.

"We'll see about that."

Because fuck. Training with Takama was... different. Predictable. Safe, even. You knew what to expect—his patient corrections, his methodical approach.

But this?

This is like jumping into the deep end of a pool filled with sharks.

And Jeon?

He's the great white circling you.

Everything feels suffocating, like there's not enough oxygen in the room for both of you. It's hard to breathe, his presence pressing in from all sides like you're caught in a fucking typhoon. You can practically taste the ozone.

Jeon circles you lazily and honestly? It's terrifying how someone so big can move so quietly. His control is infuriating—while you're here trying not to vibrate out of your skin, he looks like he could be ordering coffee.

"You're tense."

No shit, Sherlock.

The observation hits a nerve. Maybe because it's true, maybe because you hate how easily he can read you. You try to relax your shoulders, aiming for that casual 'oh-this-is-totally-fine' vibe.

Then his hand hovers over your lower back.

You flinch. You can't help it. He's not even touching you, but you can feel the heat radiating from his palm, just a breath away from contact. He's telling you to fix your posture without a single word, and your body responds before your brain can tell it not to.

Your abdomen tightens in defiance, like some part of you is still telling him to fuck off. But you straighten up anyway, because what else can you do? Not like Mr. Perfectionist here will take anything other than perfection.

Jeon steps back, and you try to remember how breathing works. Focus. This is training, not whatever the fuck that hand-wrapping thing was. You need to get your head in the game before he notices how rattled you are.

You watch him demonstrate a block.

It's unfair, really, how he makes it look so effortless—like he's been doing this since birth. (Maybe he has—he definitely looks like he fights nurses, if his attitude with J-Hope is any indication).

His forearm cuts through the air in this fluid motion that's somehow both defensive and threatening at the same time.

"Now you," he says, and oh there it is. That hint of smugness in his voice that makes you want to either punch him or—

Absolutely not. You are not going there.

He knows though. You can tell by the way his mouth quirks up slightly at the corner. He knows exactly what he's doing, the bastard. Knows he's got you at a disadvantage with his years of experience. But there's something else there too, in the way he's watching you. Like he's getting some sort of kick out of whatever this is.

You mirror his movement, slicing your arm through the air; and it feels good—solid. Like maybe you're not completely hopeless at this.

He gives you this tiny nod, and for a split second, there's something that looks almost like approval in his eyes.

But it's gone before you can really process it, replaced by that laser-focused look he apparently gets when he's in full instructor mode (like right now).

"Again," he orders, and you comply.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Each time, the movement feels more natural, less like you're just flailing your arm around and more like you might actually be able to stop someone from punching you in the face.

And all the while, he watches like a fucking hawk. Cataloging every single one of your mistakes, every moment of hesitation.

It's intense, being under that kind of scrutiny. Makes your skin prickle.

Then he moves—just this slight shift of weight—and suddenly he's closer.

His foot nudges yours, and you get the message without him having to say a word.

Your stance is off.

You adjust quickly, shifting your feet until you feel more grounded.

"Like this," he says, and it's low and gravely.

His voice shouldn't affect you. It's just two words.

It does.

You force yourself to focus on the technical stuff. The way his feet are positioned, how his knees are slightly bent like he's ready to move at any second. And then you copy his stance, feeling the stretch in your calves as you adjust.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. Count it out in your head.

One, two, three, four.

Anything to keep your mind off the way he's circling you again.

Because that's what he's doing now—moving around you like some fucking lion sizing up a calf.

His presence is like gravity, pulling at something deep in your chest.

It's distracting as hell.

But you're determined not to let it show.

You've got something to prove here, after all. Even if you're not quite sure what that is anymore.

"Not like that", he says and...

His hand's moving again, and your brain halts all its processes when his fingertips brush your shoulder.

It's supposed to be professional. Just another training correction.

But your body didn't get that memo, because every nerve ending lights up like it's a fucking carnival.

His hand starts this slow slide down your arm, and you're pretty sure this isn't standard training procedure. Your arm quickly gets covered in goosebumps, betraying exactly how not professional this feels.

When his fingers wrap around your elbow, you almost forget how to breathe. His grip is firm—s̶e̶x̶y̶ steady—and you can feel the calluses on his fingertips from years of handling weapons.

"Your alignment," he says, and shit... His voice has dropped into that same low register he pulled back in the tent. "It's crucial. When you block, you need to be solid, unyielding. Like this."

You feel the strength in his grip all the way up your arm. The way he's holding your elbow, it feels like he's trying to rewire your muscle memory through touch alone. It's invasive in the best-worst way possible, like he's leaving his fingerprints on your bones.

You should be focusing on the block he's teaching you. That's what a good student would do.

But instead, all you can think about is how his palm is practically burning against your skin, how strong his fingers feel, and how every "correction" feels more like a caress.

When he finally lets go and steps back, it's like someone just yanked away your favorite blanket. The air feels too cold where his hand was, and you have to fight the urge to chase that warmth.

"Now, let's see you put it into action," he says.

Get it together, you tell yourself.

This is training. Just training. Nothing else.

(You don't even believe your own lies anymore.)

You try to focus on breathing. In, out. Simple stuff. But it's not working, because every time Jeon adjusts your stance, every careful correction he makes, it's like striking matches against your skin.

At this point, your brain can't string two thoughts together.

Not with Jeon there, touch somehow both grounding and displacing.

Then he's back in your space.

And his hands are suddenly on your hips.

The touch is professional—or it's trying to be—but his fingers spread wide, pressing into you through your training gear like he's trying to leave prints. Like he's trying to remind you of that other time those hands have been there.

He stares at where his hands rest for way too long to be just about fixing your stance.

The air gets thick. Sticky.

You can feel every slight adjustment of his fingers, how his palms mold against your hips like they're meant to be there.

When he looks up, it knocks the breath right out of you. His eyes are dark, searching your face for... something. You're both breathing the same air now, and fuck, you remember this kind of proximity. Remember what it leads to.

Then his tongue flicks out, wetting his lip ring, and your brain just—stops. It's absent-minded, probably, but Christ. The metal catches the light, and suddenly you're back in that tent, remembering exactly what that piercing feels like against your—

Focus, bitch.

His hands haven't moved from your hips. Haven't even twitched. Like he's forgotten they're there, or maybe like he can't bring himself to move them.

He's not apologizing for it either, though.

Not that you want him to.

"What about now?" Your voice comes out embarrassingly breathless.

"Yeah," he says, and oh. His voice has gone all rough around the edges. "This is good. Real good."

The way he says it—like he's not just talking about your stance—makes heat pool low in your stomach. You know that tone. You've heard it before, whispered against your skin in the dark.

Professional, you remind yourself. This is supposed to be professional.

(It's really, really not.)

His thumbs start moving against your hips—tiny, barely-there circles that are definitely not about fixing your stance anymore. The touch is light through the fabric, but it might as well be branded into your skin.

Then he clears his throat, the sound sharp and sudden. Just like that, he's stepping back, putting distance between you.

Your skin feels weirdly empty where his hands were.

You watch him slip back into Chief mode. It's fascinating, really, how he does it. Like watching someone put on armor piece by piece. His face goes blank, eyes cooling until they're giving nothing away. Pure business. This is the Jeon that everyone else sees—the Chief of Tactical Assassinations, not the guy who just had his hands on your hips like he owned them.

Training kicks back in.

The tension does not dissipate.

He spars, but this time it's like... Like he's built this invisible wall between being your instructor and being... whatever else he is to you. And he's trying real hard not to cross it.

You match his energy, throwing yourself into it. You're here to be instructed, after all.

Then he pulls this move—his feet moving so fast they blur. You think he's going left, but nope. It's a trap, and you fall for it like an idiot. You stumble, losing your balance, and—

Oh.

Oh.

His arm catches you around the waist, hard and sure.

The contact hits different this time—no pretense of training, just pure instinct.

This isn't your instructor catching a student.

This is just Jeon catching you.

His grip is steel, anchoring you against him. You can feel everything—the hard planes of his chest, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing, the way his bicep flexes against your back. His thigh is pressed against yours, and you try very hard not to think about that.

You can feel his heart hammering where you're pressed together, matching yours beat for frantic beat. His hand spans your waist like he owns it.

You turn your head, just a little, just enough to see— Jesus.

His eyes are dark, wild. Like he's fighting a war with himself and losing badly. Pupils are blown wide, fixed on you.

You've seen that look before, in a tent, in the dark.

When he swallows, you can't help but track the movement. His throat works, pulse visible under the skin.

It's weirdly vulnerable, seeing that flutter of pulse on someone who's usually all hard edges and control.

The silence in the room feels heavy. All you can hear is breathing—yours, his, both of you trying to pretend this is still just training.

His grip on your waist tightens, just a fraction, and your body betrays you. You lean back into him, seeking that solid warmth. Because apparently, your survival instincts have left the chat.

His other hand hovers near your stomach, not quite touching. It's weirdly protective, like he wants to shield you from something.

From what?

From himself, maybe.

The hand trembles slightly. Jeon is trembling.

That hits different, knowing someone so controlled is fighting for composure. It has you almost whining, the distance between his palm and your body.

Focus. Breathe.

But how are you supposed to focus when he's right there?

Because hell, this is Jeon—Chief of Tactical Assassinations, walking danger sign, and somehow the person you want most.

Your eyes drift to his lips because you're a m̶a̶s̶o̶c̶h̶i̶s̶t̶ glutton for punishment. They're right there, and that lip ring is practically taunting you. You remember exactly how that metal feels, how it tastes. Your throat works as you swallow, mouth parting on its own, like your body's sending out an open invitation.

At that, his eyes immediately drop to your lips. Just a flicker, almost nonexistent, but you saw it. The look in his eyes—fuck.

You've seen hungry before, but this?

This is starving.

You tilt your head up, slow, careful, like you're approaching a wild animal. Your heart's trying to break out of your chest, and breathing? That's for people who aren't about to kiss their superior officer.

You lean in, slow. So fucking slow. Like if you move too fast, he'll spook and bolt.

His breath catches. The sound is soft, intimate, does stupid things to your core. You brush your lips against his, just barely, just enough to test, tease.

For a moment, he's completely still. Like he's processing, like he can't believe this is happening.

Then—holy fuckity hell.

He kisses you like he's dying for it, like he's been holding back forever and can't anymore. His lips are insistent, demanding, coaxing yours apart. There's something desperate in the way he angles his head, deepening the kiss, claiming your mouth like he owns it.

Your hands move without permission—one in his hair, one gripping his shoulder. The contrasts under your fingers ground you: soft strands, hard muscle. He tastes like mint and something darker, something that makes you want to crawl inside him and stay there.

It isn't some sweet, gentle thing.

It's a continuation of your sparring match, just with different rules.

He softens for a moment, less demanding, more inviting, and you lean into it, chasing his taste.

Finally, finally, his hovering hand makes contact. It spreads across your stomach, possessive, anchoring you against him like he thinks you might try to escape.

As if you could.

As if you'd want to.

Your fingers find his jaw, smooth skin under your touch.

When he pulls back, it's like it physically pains him. He gasps, the sound cutting through the heavy air. His eyes are wild, unfocused, like he's just come up for air after nearly drowning. There's a storm brewing in those dark depths, and you're caught right in the middle of it.

"I thought that was a spur of the moment kinda thing?"

His voice drops low, and you know exactly what he's talking about. That night in his tent during the camping trip, when things got real heated real quick.

You raise an eyebrow, channeling every ounce of b̶a̶d̶ confident bitch energy you can muster.

"I don't see why it has to be. I find you hot, you find me hot."

"Making assumptions now, are we?"

The playful edge in his voice does things to you. He's toying with you, and the worst part? You're kind of into it.

"Actions speak louder than words, Jeon." You lean into your sass because fuck it, why not? "And considering I had you cumming all over me a couple of days ago, I'd say you don't find me aesthetically unpleasant."

His lip curls into that fucking smirk—you know the one. It's rare and deadly and makes your stomach do this weird flippy thing.

"Oh?"

It's just one syllable, but Jesus Christ. The way he says it—all low and gravelly—makes your lungs seize.

"Going there, huh?" He tilts his head, and you can practically see the cockiness radiating off him. "Then I guess we can say the same about you."

You can't help the scoff that escapes.

It's either laugh or combust, honestly.

"I already said I find you hot. Craving compliments that much?"

"Just wanna hear it again." His smile widens, and fuck, it's not fair how good he looks when he's being an asshole. "Strokes my ego."

You swallow hard, trying to get your shit together. Because this? This is a whole new side of Jeon you're seeing. One minute he's Mr. Ice King, all cold and untouchable, and the next he's... this.

This s̶e̶x̶y̶ infuriating bastard who knows exactly what he's doing to you.

And the worst part? He's really good at it.

(Your underwear situation is becoming a serious problem, but you'll die before admitting that to him.)

"I think you're hot," you whisper, because fuck it—might as well lay all your cards on the table.

"I know."

The sheer audacity—

He says it with this cocky certainty that should be annoying but somehow isn't. Like he's stating that water is wet or the sky is blue.

You press on, because apparently your brain-to-mouth filter decided to take the day off. "So it doesn't have to be a one-time thing."

"Really."

It's not even a question. He's amused, the bastard. His chuckle hits different—low and rich and doing things to your insides that you'd rather not analyze right now.

"Just..." You try for casual, miss by a mile. "Think of it as a way of improving synergy between gang members."

The moment it leaves your mouth, you want to cringe.

Synergy? Really? But you see the way his lips twitch, and yeah, okay, maybe it wasn't your worst line.

"Hmm? I'll make sure to send Moon the briefing for approval."

"Make sure to give me credit then."

"Will do."

"So indulgent," you tease, because apparently you have a death wish.

He raises an eyebrow, and oh. Something shifts in his expression—something dark and promising that makes your stomach flip. He does this thing with his tongue, running it along the inside of his cheek like he's considering all the ways he could r̶u̶i̶n̶ wreck you.

"You know how indulgent I can be, sunshine."

Fuck.

That nickname. The way he says it—soft but loaded with intent.

It's not fair how he can take two simple words and turn them into something that feels like a caress and a threat wrapped in one.

Your heart's going absolutely feral in your chest. You're pretty sure he can feel it, which is just... great. Really great.

You swallow hard, trying to remember how words work.

"Don't you think..." You pause, trying to find the right words without sounding too desperate. "...that as gang members, we need to... release some tension from time to time? For the sake of the gang."

His mouth twitches. You want to punch him.

"For the sake of the gang," he echoes.

"Mhm." You feel a little rush of pride at having his complete attention. It's not easy to get Jeon to focus on anything that isn't mission-related. "And, you know... Fucking just seems like the healthier option."

The silence that follows should be awkward. It should be, but it's not. It's charged.

You wait for him to shut you down, maybe throw some sarcastic comment your way.

Instead, his fingers dig deeper into your skin, and fuck, that shouldn't feel as good as it does.

"Mhm. You're persuasive." His voice drops into this low purr that makes your insides twist. "Are those your seduction skills in show?"

"Maybe." You tilt your head, feeling bold. "Is it working?"

"I don't know..." There's something dark and promising in his eyes. "Considering I have you all over me right now, who's seducing who?"

Your eyes drop for just a second because—oh. That's... definitely something pressing against your thigh. Something very familiar from that night in the tent.

"I guess it depends on whether you want to include your boner in that analysis," you say, meeting his gaze.

He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest and against your palm.

"Fair. But only if we include those 'fuck me' eyes you're giving me."

The crude language coming from him is... something else. Instead of making you blush and back down, it makes you want to push harder.

"What can I say, Jeon? Lust is a human emotion."

"It is." His tongue swipes over his lip ring, and Christ. "And you have a lot of it."

"Funny you say that when you're also looking at me like you're undressing me with your eyes."

"I never said I didn't."

The way he says it, all casual with that hint of a smirk—it's doing things to you. Things you probably shouldn't be feeling in the training room, but here you are anyway.

Professional training session your ass.

Your hand moves before your brain can catch up, fingers skimming over his chest. You look up through your lashes, meeting his gaze.

"Good then. I guess it's settled."

"What is?"

"You. Me. Fucking."

Real smooth. Way to be subtle about it.

"And how do you wanna go about it, exactly?"

The way he says it—like he's trying not to laugh—makes your face heat up.

You pause. Wait. Shit.

You hadn't actually thought this far ahead. The logistics of it seemed... well, obvious until now. People just fuck, right? That's how it works? But now that he's asking, you're drawing a complete blank.

"How... What?"

Real articulate. Nailed it. You're doing amazing sweetie.

He actually laughs at that, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into yours because you're still pressed together like some kind of human sandwich.

Then he's moving, helping you get your feet back under you so you're face-to-face.

His hands stay on you though, like he can't quite bring himself to let go.

"I mean, I'm game for it being a way to blow off steam." His thumb starts that little circle thing on your hip again, and fuck, that's distracting. "And as you said, we're not breaking any rules if there's no strings attached..."

You blink. Slowly. Because is this actually happening? Is Jeon—Mr. Ice King himself—actually considering your half-baked proposition?

"However, we should probably set some ground rules. Any limitations? Is there anything off the table?"

"Well, we can see when... time comes."

"And when do times come, sunshine?"

That fucking nickname again. The playful edge in his voice isn't helping your brain function any better.

"We can just tell each other, no?" You say it without thinking, which seems to be your brand today.

"What, do you really want to say you want to fuck in front of everyone—"

"God, Jeon, no—" You cut him off because Jesus Christ. The thought alone makes you want to crawl into a hole and die. "But we can say something like... we need to ease off some tension."

"So 'ease off some tension'? Is that our code?"

Amusement twinkles in his eyes, and you kind of want to punch him.

Maybe.

Not really.

"Yeah. Yes." Eloquent.

"Okay then."

"Okay."

And just like that, you've somehow negotiated the most professional friends-with-benefits arrangement in the history of gang life. With your Chief. In the training room.

What could possibly go wrong?

"What about halting?" His eyes lock with yours. "Need a safe word?"

You glance around the training room, brain scrambling for ideas. Your gaze drops to your hands, still fisted in his tank top. Oh.

"Black tape," you say. It feels right, given the context. Then, because your mouth apparently has a mind of its own: "And maybe... white tape? Like, for when things are good to go?"

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Black tape stops everything, white tape means keep going?"

"Yeah." You nod, feeling weirdly professional about this whole thing. Like you're negotiating a business deal instead of arranging hook-ups with your Chief. "Black for stop, white for go."

"Alright." His voice drops lower, settling somewhere in your chest. "Once either of us says 'black tape', everything stops. Immediately."

"Okay."

"Okay."

The word's barely settled in the air between you when something possesses you to just—

"I wanna ease off some tension."

Real smooth. Way to be patient, dumbass. (Have you seen him though? Like...)

But the way Jeon's eyes darken? Maybe being smooth is overrated.

His eyes snap to yours—look pure animal—irises swallowed whole.

Jeon's fingers stop their little dance on your hip, like he's taking a moment to process what you just said.

Everything goes quiet, the kind of quiet that makes you hyper-aware of every little sound—birds chirping outside, people talking somewhere down the hall, completely clueless about what's happening in here.

"Yeah?"

It comes out as this low rumble that you can practically feel in your bones.

Then he's moving closer, crowding into your space until there's barely room to breathe.

Not that you're doing much breathing anyway, because the way he's looking at you right has knocked the air out of your lungs long ago.

You manage a nod because words? What are words? Your brain's pretty much short-circuited at this point.

His smirk turns wicked—the kind that promises trouble—and then his fingers are sliding under your clothes, and oh.

Oh, okay.

You can feel him pressed against your inner thigh, hot and hard and very, very interested in where this is going. He notices you notice, (of course he does) and he sways his hips slightly like he's testing the waters.

A sound escapes you—something between a whimper and a gasp—as you arch back, exposing your throat. Like your body's offering itself up to him before your brain can catch up.

(And what the fuck are you, a cat in heat?)

You're both still technically fully clothed in a training room where anyone could walk in, but honestly, it feels more obscene than being naked.

Maybe it's the forbidden aspect, or maybe it's just him, but it's like everything is on fire.

(Somewhere in the back of your mind, a little voice is reminding you that this is probably not what RM had in mind when he approved combat training. You tell that voice to shut the fuck up.)

He doesn't just dive in—no, because Jeon's the type to take his sweet fucking time. His mouth traces your jaw with these slow, deliberate kisses that make you want to tug at his hair. Each one edges closer to your neck, and hell, the anticipation is killing you.

When his teeth find that spot where your neck meets your shoulder, you nearly lose it. He bites down—not hard enough to mark, but the sensation shoots straight through you, and this embarrassing sound escapes your throat before you can stop it.

"No... marks," you manage to get out, even though your brain's pretty much offline at this point.

He laughs against your skin, and the vibration does things to you. You can feel his smile—that smug, knowing one that makes you want to strangle him with his own hair or something.

"Okay."

You both know why there can't be marks—can't have evidence of whatever this is showing up in training tomorrow.

His breath fans hot over the spot he just bit, and you're pretty sure you're going to die if he doesn't do something soon.

Then his hands start moving, and okay, maybe dying wouldn't be so bad. He maps your body like he's trying to memorize every curve, every dip. His thumbs sweep over your clothes, and even through the fabric, his touch burns.

When he gets to your ass though? Different story.

He grabs two handfuls like he's been waiting to do this all day, and the sound that comes out of your mouth is straight-up pornographic. You should probably be embarrassed, but you're way past caring at this point.

He squeezes like ike he's finally getting his hands on something he's been thinking about for way too long.

"God..." He says—voice wrecked, all rough and deep. "You've got one hell of an ass."

You laugh against his mouth.

"All this training must show results."

"Fuck if it shows."

That compliment—delivered in his sex-roughened voice—does weird things to your stomach. You press back into his hands because you're only human, and the way he responds tells you all you need to know—fingers dig in harder, and yeah, okay, this is definitely happening.

You claw at him in retaliation like some kind of feral animal, nails dragging down his back through his tank.

You can't think straight—can't think at all, really.

Your brain's on fire, fuzzy with want. If this is what losing your mind feels like, you're kind of okay with it. Actually, more than okay. You're drowning in him, in the heat of his hands, in the way he's marking you up without leaving marks, and—

Clink.

The sound of the door handle cuts through your lust-haze like a bucket of ice water. Pure instinct takes over, and you shove Jeon away from you with enough force to send him sprawling onto the training room floor. The sound of his body hitting concrete is probably the least sexy thing you've ever heard.

When you look at him, his eyes are wide with shock that quickly turns into this mix of annoyance and—wait, is he amused? There's this little twitch at the corner of his mouth that says he kind of wants to laugh, even though you just threw him on his ass. But there's also a storm brewing in his eyes because Jeon? He doesn't do pretend losses.

Especially not to you, in what's supposed to be a basic training session.

Then Takama walks in, all decked out in Kkangpae black, and raises an eyebrow at the scene in front of him.

You must look like a mess—hair probably everywhere, breathing like you just ran a marathon, standing over Jeon who's sprawled on the floor.

"Thought you two would be done by now," he says, confusion lacing his tone.

"Training got a bit... intense," you manage to say, trying to sound casual while your heart's still doing its best to break your ribs.

Your voice, however, comes out steadier than you expected, considering you were about two seconds away from letting Jeon rail you against the training room wall.

The irony of using "intense" to describe what was definitely not training isn't lost on you. But hey, at least you're not lying.

Technically.

Takama lets out this low chuckle, and you can feel his eyes darting between you and Jeon, who's still sprawled on the training room floor like some Renaissance painting gone wrong.

"Gotta say, I'm surprised to see Jeon flat on his back. Never thought I'd see the day."

There's this note of respect in his voice. Because yeah, you just put the Chief of Tactical Assassinations on his ass. Even if it was totally not what it looked like.

Jeon's still looking at you as he gets up, fluidly and graceful despite having just been thrown to the ground.

He brushes off his clothes, but his eyes?

They haven't left yours for a second.

It's like he's trying to tell you something without words, and you're getting the message loud and clear.

"She's a quick learner."

You both know exactly what kind of "learning" he's talking about, and it has nothing to do with combat training.

Takama, bless his oblivious soul, just strolls to the center of the mats like he's not walking into the world's most sexually charged training session.

The sound of him cracking his knuckles cuts through the air then.

"So, ready for another round?"

He has no idea about the conversation happening without words. No clue about the way Jeon's still looking at you like he's thinking about all the different ways he could pin you down—and none of them involve training.

"Always," Jeon says.

His voice is pure sin, wrapped up in that one word like a promise. Like a threat. Like everything you want but shouldn't.

"Bring it on," you manage to say, and you're pretty proud that your voice comes out steady.

Because this? This is definitely not just about training anymore.

Not even close.

You drag yourself into the cafeteria with Yunjin, who's been talking your ear off since you left training. She's going on about something—probably important, if you'd actually been listening—but your brain's too busy playing "Where's Waldo" with the dinner crowd.

Not that you're looking for anyone s̶p̶e̶c̶i̶f̶i̶c̶ important.

(That's a lie. You totally are.)

Your eyes keep scanning the room like some kind of desperate radar system, and you want to smack yourself.

Since when did you turn into one of those people who can't walk into a room without checking if he's there?

Jeon's not the center of the universe.

He's not even the center of this cafeteria.

But try telling that to your traitor eyes that won't stop searching.

You follow Yunjin to the buffet line, nodding along to her chatter about work stuff and gang politics. The food looks good tonight—all steam and color and promise of actual flavor. You're reaching for the rice when—

Oh.

There he is.

Jeon's standing a few people ahead, his back to you like he doesn't even know you exist. Which is bullshit, by the way. You know he knows you're here. But he's pulling this whole 'I'm too cool to acknowledge your existence' act, and honestly? It's working for him.

You can't help staring at his plate because of course it looks like that. All protein and greens, like a sad jail meal. No carbs in sight because god forbid the Chief of Tactical Assassinations eat a fucking potato. It's like looking at a fitness influencer's meal prep, except this one could probably kill you with his chopsticks.

He drives you insane. How does he do this? How does he go from being that smug bastard in the training room—all heated looks and smart mouth—to... this? This walking ice sculpture who portions his vegetables like they might try to escape?

You're still watching him stack his protein like he's playing food Tetris when Yunjin's elbow catches your ribs.

"Hey, you okay? You've been zoning out a lot today."

Great. Now you're so obvious even Yunjin's noticed.

But how are you supposed to explain that you can't stop staring at the way Jeon handles his chopsticks because it reminds you of how those same hands felt on your—

Nope. Not going there. Not in the cafeteria, not while you're holding rice tongs, and definitely not with Yunjin right there giving you that knowing look.

You flash Yunjin what you hope is a convincing smile. "Just tired. Been a long day of pretending I actually know what I'm doing."

You both grab your plates and—okay, maybe you glance in Jeon's direction one more time. Just a quick look. For science.

The way his jaw moves when he chews shouldn't be this interesting, but here you are anyway, feeling heat pool in your stomach because apparently now everything that he does is just hot.

Get it together.

You scan the cafeteria for a free spot and spot Kazuha sitting alone. She's got this serene energy about her that makes you feel instantly calmer. It's kind of ridiculous how put-together she always looks, even after a full day of work.

"Hey, Zuzu!" Yunjin chirps, already bouncing over. "Got room for two more?"

Kazuha looks up from her food, and her smile is soft, genuine. Like she's actually happy to see you both.

"Of course. How was training?"

You plop down next to her, already digging into your food because you're starving. "Bold of you to assume I survived. Pretty sure my muscles are plotting revenge."

"That bad?" Kazuha asks, and you can hear the amusement in her voice.

"Let's just say I'm considering a career change. Maybe I'll become a nun."

Yunjin snorts into her rice. "You? A nun?"

"Hey, I could be holy!" You protest, but you're grinning. "I mean, how hard can it be?"

"About as hard as that time Eunchae tried to seduce that businessman and ended up talking about his cats for two hours," Kazuha reminds you, dry as desert.

"Okay, but in her defense, his cats are adorable—"

"And second of all," Yunjin cuts in, "she got the intel anyway because he thought she was 'refreshingly genuine' or whatever."

Kazuha shakes her head, but she's smiling. "Only she could fail upwards so spectacularly."

The conversation flows easy after that, just three girls sharing dinner and stories from their day. It's almost normal, if you ignore the fact that you're all trained in professional seduction and manipulation.

"Zuzu, you seen the new race bikes downtown?" Yunjin's practically bouncing in her seat. "They've got some wild colors this year. Bright as the neon signs lining the alleys."

"They're really something," you add, grateful for the distraction from your Jeon-related thoughts. "Makes you wanna take one for a spin, just you and the empty streets at midnight."

Kazuha's smiling that soft smile of hers, the one that makes her look like she knows all your secrets. "I saw them. Wish we could know the stories behind them."

"Speaking of stories," Yunjin says, and there's this gleam in her eye that makes you nervous. "Kazuha, aren't you usually having dinner with Saku and Eunchae around now?"

It's an innocent question. Totally innocent. Except nothing's ever really innocent in this place, is it?

Kazuha lets out this little laugh that somehow sounds like wind chimes.

"They're training. Apparently, the training room was..." She pauses, and you swear your heart stops. "...in heavy use earlier."

You start coughing like an idiot because of course you do. Real smooth. Your neck feels hot, and you just know you're turning red because your body is a fucking traitor.

Because yeah, the training room was definitely in use earlier. By you and Jeon. Doing... training things. Totally professional training things that absolutely didn't involve his hands all over you or his mouth on your—

"Oh, is that so?" You try for casual, miss by about a mile. "Training room's been busy lately. Gotta stay sharp and all that."

Yunjin's looking at you like she can see right through your bullshit. Her eyebrow does this little thing—this 'I know what you did' arch that makes you want to crawl under the table. The way she's staring at you, it's like she's reading a book where every page is stamped with "I ALMOST FUCKED JEON IN THE TRAINING ROOM."

Kazuha, bless her soul, just nods serenely. The conversation moves on, but Yunjin's still giving you these looks. You can practically hear her thoughts: 'We're so talking about this later'.

You end up having this whole silent conversation with Yunjin through eyebrows and meaningful glances. She takes a sip of her drink, ice cubes clinking against glass like they're laughing at you, and the little smirk on her face says everything.

Busted.

(You're really going to need to work on your poker face if you're going to keep this thing with Jeon going. Or maybe invest in a paper bag to hide your face. That could work too.)

You're in the middle of telling Yunjin about this absolutely ridiculous mission report you have to finish when—

CRASH.

"You bastard, you think you can talk to me like that?!"

The whole cafeteria goes quiet. Like, pin-drop quiet.

You whip around to see Dongho—V's right-hand man and certified hothead—with his fists bunched in Woojin's shirt. They're both red-faced and looking murderous.

Great. Just what you needed with your dinner: a testosterone-fueled throwdown.

"What the fuck," Yunjin whispers, already tensing up. Kazuha's gone still beside you, like a deer sensing danger.

The thing about fights in Kkangpae? They're never just fights. There's always some deeper shit going on, especially when it's between different divisions.

And this?

This is V's second versus some guy from tactical assassinations. The rivalry between those divisions runs deeper than the Han River.

Speaking of V—you spot him across the room, looking way too entertained for someone whose deputy is about to start a brawl. He's got that look on his face, the one that makes your skin crawl. Like he's watching his favorite show.

"Now, now, let's not get too rowdy, gentlemen!" V calls out, voice dripping with absolutely false concern. When that doesn't work, he cups his hands around his mouth: "Simmer down, boys!"

But they're not listening. Of course they're not, they're men.

You watch as Woojin throws a wild punch that Dongho barely dodges. People are scrambling now—some to get away, others to jump in. It's chaos.

Then Takama's there, all six feet of concentrated 'don't fuck with me' energy. He plants himself between them like a human wall.

"Enough! Stand down, both of you!"

The command in his voice could probably stop traffic.

But Dongho—because he's either brave or stupid or both—just sneers.

"You're the same rank as me. Don't you ever try to pull authority on me."

Oh shit.

You feel the tension in the room spike. This isn't just about whatever started the fight anymore. This is about division politics, about the endless pissing contest between V and Jeon's teams.

And their seconds are about to throw down right here in the cafeteria.

You hear V's dramatic sigh that would put soap opera actors to shame.

"Why must things always descend into violence?" he asks JM, who just shakes his head like he's seen this show a hundred times before.

You watch as V's face changes. It's subtle, but terrifying—like watching a cute puppy turn into a wolf. His playful smile twists into something darker, and then there's suddenly a knife in his hand.

(You're not even sure where it came from; he just does that sometimes, produces weapons like a deadly magician.)

"I tried asking nicely," he says to JM, casual as if he's discussing the weather.

Then—oooookay.

The knife flies through the air, spinning so fast it's just a silver blur. It hits the wall with this loud THUNK that makes everyone jump, landing exactly between Dongho and Woojin's faces. Like, exactly.

You know V well enough to know that wasn't luck—if he'd wanted to hit them, they'd be picking pieces of their noses off the floor right now.

The whole cafeteria goes dead silent. Every head turns to V, who's sitting there looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.

But his eyes? They're gleaming with something that makes your stomach turn.

"There, that got your attention." His voice is soft, almost sweet. Then, louder: "Now sit down and play nice, children."

Dongho and Woojin break apart like they've been electrocuted. You watch Takama and Dongho share one last murder-glare before going their separate ways.

"Holy shit," Yunjin breathes next to you, eyes wide as saucers. She lets out this low whistle that perfectly sums up what everyone's thinking. "Only V could pull that off so effortlessly."

She leans in closer, practically vibrating with excitement.

"That was kind of hot, don't you think?"

You turn to her, eyebrows shooting up. "Didn't know you had a thing for psychopaths with good aim," you tease.

Yunjin's cheeks go pink, and she does that thing where she tucks her hair behind her ear when she's flustered. It's kind of adorable.

"What? Confidence is sexy," she defends, sneaking another look at V. "And you have to admit, that was pretty impressive."

You follow her gaze across the room. V's already moved on, chatting with JM like he didn't just turn a cafeteria brawl into an impromptu knife-throwing demonstration.

But that's V for you—deadly and dramatic in equal measure.

Yunjin's practically glowing as V catches her eye and winks. The smile she gives him is shy, which is funny coming from someone who literally seduces people for a living. But that's just Yunjin—confident as hell on missions but turns into a blushing mess when she actually likes someone.

Speaking of liking someone...

You notice JM's acting weird. He's sitting next to V, pretending to be super interested in his food, but his chopsticks are gripping that poor piece of kimchi like it personally offended him; movements sharp and jerky—very un-JM-like.

He keeps doing this thing where he looks up at V and Yunjin, then quickly back down at his food like he's playing the world's most obvious game of 'I'm not looking, you're looking.' The tension in his shoulders is giving him away though. JM's usually all soft sweaters and gentle vibes, but right now? He looks like someone replaced his bones with steel rods.

After what feels like an eternity of aggressive chopstick action, JM turns to V and says something too quiet for you to hear. His tone's forcefully light—the kind of casual that takes effort. V glances at him with that signature smirk of his, says something back, and suddenly JM's whole face changes. His eyes get all crinkly at the corners, like he's trying not to smile.

Then JM leans in closer (way closer than necessary, if you're being honest), and whatever he whispers makes V laugh. Not his usual theatrical laugh either—this one's soft, private. V nudges JM's shoulder, and just like that, the tension bleeds out of the moment.

You can't help but watch them, pondering. Maybe V's little knife-throwing show bothered JM more than he's letting on. Or maybe...

Oh.

Well, that's interesting.

JM catches you staring and gives you this little smile that definitely means 'nothing to see here, move along.'

You return it because what else can you do? Start announcing your theories about whatever's going on between him and V in the middle of the cafeteria?

The conversation around you picks back up, and you let yourself get pulled into Yunjin's excited whispers about V's 'totally unnecessary but kind of hot' intervention. But part of your brain is still turning over what you just saw.

Because either you're reading way too much into this, or there's something brewing on JM's behalf that makes the gang's 'no relationships' rule look more like a suggestion than a law.

You file that little observation away for later. Right now, you've got food to eat and a best friend to tease about her obvious crush on the gang's resident knife-throwing psychopath.

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�� jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[hungharrington]

happy birthday hungharrington! and congrats on everything!!

i was wondering if i could request a little something with prompts from both lists! i was thinking maybe a little beach trip with The Gang (established relationship reader and steve) with the prompts “mutual masturbation because they don’t have the energy for anything else” + “shh, there are people in the other room.”

either or is also fine! i love your work <3

hi my love!! thank you so much 😚and also thank you for being here and coming to my beeday party <3 you're the lucky first one to arrive omg... i hope this is ok, it kinda got more plot than porn my bad <3 afab!reader, 2.2k, mdni this entire blog is 18+

how to beat the summer heat

Between the car engine droning lowly beneath you and the heat of Steve's leather seats, you could nearly be lulled off to sleep. Safe in the passenger seat of Steve's car, it's highly tempting.

You would let yourself too, if you weren't so close to getting back to Steve's house. That—and the racket that the baby teenagers in the backseat keep stirring up, their rustling non-stop.

"Can you keep to your side of the seat?" Lucas says, somewhat scathingly.

"Can you learn how to say please?" Dustin spits back.

"Oh my god, you're so obviously an only child."

"Um, only by blood. Steve is practically my brother. Right, Steve?"

Beside you, one hand draped over the front wheel to steer, Steve's face twitches closer to a smile. The sun has done wonders to him. His hair looks lighter, his skin tanner — there's a glow to his whole demeanour. You're willing to bet if you reached out and touched him, he'd be just as warm as when he was laying in the sun an hour before.

Steve's eyes move up off the road to look in the rearview mirror.

"Uh huh." He agrees glibly, his gaze drifting to you and your evidently sleepy, curled-up form. "Whatever gets you turds to be quiet."

Dustin makes a squawk of protest but whatever battle he's looking to pick next is lost, the car already pulling in to the Harrington driveway.

It's a full-house tonight with the trip out to the watering hole. It's not far to travel by car, but too far by bike — and what had started as a simple plan for you and Steve to beat the summer heat, quickly spiralled into a full babysitting gig. Including a sleepover.

"Christ, why did we agree to this?" Steve huffs a sigh, watching through the windshield.

The backseat had emptied the moment he parked, each rambunctious teen rocketing towards the door the moment they could. There's definitely a door left open in the back and they're already squabbling as they push through the door. They're multitaskers, you'll give them that.

You unfurl from your tucked up position, groaning at the lovely stretch you get, and grin over at your boyfriend. "'Cos we happen to love those little twerps."

Steve's gaze switches to you, softening in an instant. He reaches a hand out and rubs your thigh tenderly.

"Y'alright, honey? You gonna take a nap?"

He's got, what you've affectionately nicknamed, his boyfriend voice on — a little more gooey and doting than he would ever be around other people. You hum happily and lean into his touch, reaching down and placing your hand atop his.

"Maybe..." You say, dragging your finger idly across the back of his hand. It betrays the fact you might have other plans.

The two of you have had to be rather restrained today, given the company. But it doesn't mean you've stopped lingering touches when you can sneak them, nor your heavy gazes and kisses too close to lust.

Steve's grip on your thigh tightens slightly, the vein in the back of his hand prominent. You see his throat bob as he swallows.

"Better get inside first," You say with a smile, breaking the moment to crack open your door. Steve's hand slips off your thigh as you step out.

The pavement is hot enough you can nearly feel it through your sandals, the air bending in the heat. Its not quite heat of the day anymore, but it still lingers enough to make you sweat. You push your door closed, then nudge Dustin's door closed too.

Steve's quick to stick close by as you both wander back up to his house, closer than he needs to be. You have to press down your smile—he's incredibly obvious at times. It's something that endears you even more.

"Someone's keen," You tease lightly, looking over your shoulder at him.

Steve reaches out and gives your waist a quick squeeze. "Someone got no warning about your newest bikini." He murmurs accusingly.

You laugh at that. He's absolutely right and it was entirely by design, getting to slowly reveal the new set to him for the first time today.

He'd already gotten in the water, had shaken his hair out like a dog and was dotingly waiting for you to join him. And as you had eased your shorts down, the new tight red bikini bottoms revealing themselves, Steve had promptly inhaled a mouthful of water, then hacked it back out.

"So, I shouldn't have worn it?" You ask, already knowing the answer. The door's still ajar from where the kids have filed through and you step through, kicking your sandals off.

"Are you kidd—"

"Steve! Where's the pizza?" Dustin interjects, panting in the doorframe at the end of the hall. Steve's nose twitches, the only evidence of his displeasure at being interrupted.

"In the freezer!" He calls back. He looks down at you, eyes catching on the red stripe of your bikini top still visible.

"Hey, uhhh," Steve catches Dustin's attention just in time, focusing back on the kid. "Can I trust you can handle the oven? We're gonna take a nap, sleep off some the sun."

Wobbly start, but strong finish. Dustin's eyes squint for only a second, enough that you wonder if he can tell, before— "I'm literally so offended that you think I can't use an oven, Steve."

Then he turns and leaves, doorframe now empty. Steve blinks, turning to you, a coy grin toying at his lips. "Well, that was easy."

Rolling your eyes, you take the stairs quickly, knowing the way to Steve's room like the back of your hand. Steve follows dutifully. You hear him shed his shirt as he goes, throwing it over the banister to deal with later.

It's hotter up here, the warmth collecting in the roof and circulating down to keep temperatures high in all of the upstairs rooms. You push into Steve's room and then wrinkle your nose, heading straight for the window to open it. Fresh air rolls in and you sigh in relief, stepping back and flopping onto Steve's bed in a lump.

A moment later and Steve joins you.

"It might actually be too hot to have sex," He says, rolling his head in your direction. "And too tiring. That nap actually sounds like a good idea right about now." He pauses a moment, eyes cast to the ceiling, brow scrunched together. "Oh my god, are we old?"

You laugh, turning to be closer. "Maybe we are."

You kick off your shorts to remove the stifling fabric and your shirt follows suit, alleviating some of the heat. The bikini is still the slightest bit damp. You stretch out, unsure if you'll be napping or something else altogether.

Steve glances over, then groans, his hands coming up to cover his face.

"Not fair." He says, voice muffled behind his hands. "I just said—"

"I'm literally just lying here."

"Exactly!" Steve exclaims, pulling his hands away from his face. He rolls over onto his side, one hand holding up his head, his bicep bulging.

"You're just... laying on my bed..." He says, voice suddenly lower.

His free hand reaches out, slipping a finger beneath the strap of your bikini.

"In the most... delectable little number I've ever seen."

His pupils are wide and his lids low, his heavy gaze trailing across your body with a hunger you're well familiar with.

"And we're both too hot and tired to do anything about it." He finishes with a whinge, his head flopping forward into the bed, pressed up against your arm. You giggle, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair.

"What if we don't," You start, an idea forming in your head. The quick flashes of how it could unfold, the mere thought of Steve's hand pumping his own cock, right next to you, sends a hot pulse between your legs.

You look over at Steve who's perked back up, watching you with a furrow in his brow. "But we still do. Just by ourselves."

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, the pinch in Steve's brows still there as he searches your face for what you mean. You can see it when it dawns on him, pupils blowing wider.

"What, you mean like-?" He makes a crude jerk off motion with his hand, eyes wide.

You blush and laugh at the same time, suddenly unsure if that's something Steve would like. Hesitantly, you nod.

Turns out, you needn't worry, given how Steve flushes so much, it travels up to his ears. He's nodding, an excited sort of grin on his face before he ducks in to steal a quick kiss from you.

"Yeah," He says shakily. "That's- yeah, let's do that."

He rolls back to lay on his back, the tightness in his swimshorts far more apparent now. You watch eagerly as he reaches down, tugging at the drawstrings to loosen them up. His hand disappears into them and you see the heavy swallow of his throat, the soft flutter of his eyelashes as he grips himself.

You're so transfixed that it takes Steve nodding to you, murmuring your turn, with his voice rougher than usual to snap you out of it. Heat from something other than the summers day thrums through you, the heartbeat in your cunt getting louder, needier.

It's easy to slip one hand beneath the stretchy fabric, Steve watching closely as his hand begins to move. You trace a finger down slowly, finding a well of slick waiting for you, your fingers dipping in gently.

Dragging the wetness back up, you begin to push lazy circles on you clit, a hazy, quiet sort of pleasure beginning to buzz beneath your skin.

It spikes up when you pull your focus back to Steve, and suddenly there's too many places you want to look. Your eyes are drawn to the movement in his shorts, to the slow way he fucks his hand, lazy and unhurried — but his noises are too enticing to ignore.

Bare chest rising and falling with his breaths, Steve groans lowly in the back of his throat, soft and throaty. You don't even know if he knows he's doing it, the little catch of his breath when his hand strokes up over the head of his cock where his groan gets louder.

You have this reaction practically memorised, from the countless times where it's been your hand gliding over his cock, pulling sweet sounds from his mouth.

"Feel good?" You whisper.

Your own voice is a bit breathier than usual, pleasure still slowly burning in your core. Steve's hand stutters at the sound of it, resuming at a slightly faster pace.

"Fuck, yes," He whispers back heavily, not quite as quiet. His eyes are ever moving, constantly undecided if he'd rather look at the sight of your hand between your thighs, rubbing away, or your face, so switching between the two rapidly. "God, y're so pretty."

You smile at his sweetness, even if it is wrapped in the filthy scenario. Your legs spread a little further, sinking into your comfort.

There's something about the whole scene — the warmth of the summer afternoon and the laziness of both of you, tired and barely chasing the pleasure, just dozing in it, that sets your desire burning.

"Yeah? You're not so bad yourself, pretty boy." You whisper back, voice more sultry this time. Your eyes hunt for that reaction too — the adorable flush Steve gets when he's called pretty.

You're not disappointed. You're rewarded even, with Steve's blush returning down his chest and his hand speeding up again. He moans this time, louder than before, and you remember abruptly that you're not without company.

"Shh," You murmur, your own fingers moving faster, a whine threading into your words. Heat blazes deep in your gut, building and building. "There are people in the other room, baby. We've gotta be quiet."

"I—ngh-" Steve cuts himself out with another soft moan, turning this time and burying his head against your neck, as if to smother his noises. His hand has abandoned any slow pretence, jerking up and down on his cock fast enough you can hear the slick sounds of his pre-cum.

"I'm not gonna—last," He pants, quieter this time. "Y'so fuckin' hot. This is- christ, the hottest thing we've done—"

His string of whiny moans and frenzied words sets you off, the hook in your tummy suddenly tightening without warning.

Your hand pushes faster, burning hot pleasure washing over you, as you turn and bury your own ragged moan in Steve's mouth. He takes it, capturing it in a messy kiss.

You hear the stagger in his breath when he cums, hitching up and devolving into a filthy moan you have to smother with a kiss. Steve's hand is still moving, same as your own, pulling every dreg of pleasure from himself.

It's a long minute of bliss, mouths pressed together, the ends of orgasms chased. You can feel your skin sweating where it's ended up pressed against Steve, feel the dampness between your thighs, the stickiness of the whole affair.

Steve kisses you again, more purposefully than his last, yet lazy and content. Drizzled with pleasure, he nips at your bottom lip, then soothes it with another kiss. You can't help but smile into the kiss, somehow already scheming of what round two might look like in the shower.

A cold shower, of course.

come join the celebration <3

[lateatnewyork]

COLONIZING AT ITS FINEST! 001

pairing: oscar piastri x indian!female!kohli!reader

summary: the indian women's cricket team is in australia the same time as the grid for their ODI tournament. and a certain rookie driver and a rookie cricketer fall for each other.

extra information: reader is kohli's younger sister and is 21, oscar wins the melbourne gp. reader went to a british boarding school so she knows like lando.

ynkohli

liked by BCCIWomens, ishankishan and 547,890 others me n the gang 💯renukasingh (virat's memes are top tier) view comments

viratkohli is that the only photo you could find ➥ ynkohli yeppers landonorris get into finals so i can watch 😞 ➥ ynkohli thats the plan user01 what's lando doing here ➥ ynsno1 yn went to a british boarding school and she met lando in britain when she was out. shes also a huge fan of f1 anushkasharma get the cup !! ➥ ynkohli will do 🫶 user54 why is she so famous compared to other cricketers? /genq ➥ user67 she was an influencer during her teenage years and everybody loved her cos shes rlly funny and shes also virat kohli's sister. mclaren 🏏👀 ➥ ynlover yo wtf ➥ user6 erm what ➥ user08 um renukasingh we ate those photos up ➥ ynkohli realsies!

mclaren

liked by ynkohli, oscarpiastri and 245,765 others i got two tickets to melbourne gp babyy view comments

ynkohli give them to me plsss 🙏 ➥ mclaren bet ➥ user05 IS SHE DATING SOMEONE ON THE GRID ➥ user49 not necessarily shes been a fan since she was a kid danielriccardo COME WITH ME SUNDAY DONT SAY MAYBE ➥ user67 going along with the caption is so him 😭🫶 maxverstappen watch me win... again ➥ lewishamilton hes a bit overconfident? ➥ landonorris ^ ➥ fernandoalonso ^ ➥ georgerussell ^ ➥ charlesleclerc ^ ➥ carlossainz55 ^ ➥ schecoperez ^ ➥ averagef1lover not the whole grid coming after max 😭 ➥ rbrmylove ok but is he wrong ➥ user07 if oscar doesn't win im gonna kms ➥ oscarpiastri dont do that 😓 ➥ user07 HOLY SHIT IM GONNA DIE WTF user03 this is a day after the odi finals 😭 if yn loses shes going to be so sad at the gp

BCCIWomens

liked by oscarpiastri, viratkohli and 350,905 little y/n kohli appreciation post because INDIA IS IN THE FINALS !!!! view comments

user09 what is oscar doing here ➥ ynsno1fan forrealsies user98 SHE DESERVES THIS SM ➥ user05 FR BRO user48 IM SO HAPPY

oscarpiastri

liked by viratkohli, landonorris and 463,218 others little gf appreciation post 💗 view comments

user58 OSCAR SOFT LAUNCHING WAS NOT ON MY 2024 BINGO CARD ➥ user48 SAME cricketlover whats virat doing here? ➥ user52 idk bro f1lover GUYS WHAT IF ITS YN KOHLI ➥ rbrmylove who?? ➥ f1lover shes an indian cricketer ➥ lestappenshipper BRO AND THE BCCI ACCOUNT POSTED AN APPRECIATION FOR YN AND OSCAR LIKED ➥ sixerhitter AND THE CAPTION ON THIS ONE logansargeant youre not slick ➥ oscarpiastri shut up ➥ averagef1fan LOGAN TELL US (ill give u three bucks) ➥ logansargeant I CANT (make it 300 and u have a deal) ➥ averagef1fan logan im broke ➥ logansargeant well too bad then user05 they look so happy in the last photo landonorris yk what big feet mean😉 ➥ oscarpiastri LANDO ➥ danielriccardo LANDO ➥ carlossainz55 LANDO ➥ maxverstappen LANDO ➥ fernandoalonso LANDO ➥ lewishamilton LANDO mclarenfan polite cat has rizz confirmed???

ynkohli

liked by danielriccardo, smrithimandhana and 506,472 others your honor, i love him. view comments

rohitsharma what 😀 ➥ishankishan 😀 ➥viratkohli 😀 ➥hardikpandya 😀 ➥jaspritbumrah 😀 ➥shubmangill 😀 ➥sachintendulkar 😀 ➥rahuldravid 😀 alexanderasaintmleux you both are so cutee ➥ ynkohli nuh uh u r lilymhe ur so adorable ➥ ynkohli stop ily averagef1lover um what are the wags doing here? ➥ user05 i think shes dating oscar piastri cricketlover whos oscar piastri? ynloml NO WAY SHES TAKEN WHAT

f1wagupdates

liked by alexanderasaintmleux, lilymhe and 209,879 others new wag??? oscar piastri spotted in a park with a girl view comments

averagef1lover thats so yn cricketlover yn and oscar?? user05 CRICKET AND F1 CROSSOVER??????? ynlover my two worlds colliding user06 if it was yn tho theyd be so cute f1fan THE WAY HES LYING IN HER LAP ➥ user49 THE WAY HIS HAND WENT LIMP WHEN THEY KISSED ➥ lestappenshipper SKSKSKKSKSK

BCCIWomens

liked by ynkohli, landonorris and 738,952 others THE INDIAN WOMENS TEAM ARE NOW ODI CHAMPIONS!!! view comments

cricketlover WOOHOOOO averagef1lover IDEC IF SHES A WAG OR NOT I LOVE YN ynloml shes so fine 🤭 lestappenshipper theres no way oscar 'polite cat' piastri has the yn kohli rohitsharma 🥳 shahrukhkhan 🥳 arshdeepkaur 🥳 sachintendulkar 🥳 renukasingh 🥳 anushkasharma 🥳 ritikasajdeh 🥳 sanjenaganasen 🥳 saratendulkar 🥳 landonorris IM SO PROUD OF YOU YN

ynkohli

liked by oscarpiastri, suhanakhan and 834,271 others colonized the colonizer ! oscarpiastri comments are disabled

oscarpiastri

liked by ynkohli, logansargeant and 506,783 others i love being colonized 😍 comments are disabled

a/n IM SO SORRY FOR BEING MIA FOR SO LONG GUYS I HAD THE WORST WRITERS BLOCK 😭 this is written for the sole purposes of entertaining me i havent seen and oscar piastri x brown reader anywhere so hopefully you guys like this !!

[prettypinkporkchop]

Bite Me

Vessel x f!reader

Description: Sleep token started to work with you for helping them write their songs. You have a studio in your basement, which the band comes to use for the night. You and Ves do NOT get along... until you do.

Warnings: sexual, language, ves is daddy, IV cockblocks yo

The lights flicker as the thunder grows rougher. You close your book and toss it across your bed,letting out a sigh. You lean over and pull your phone off the charger. The screen turns on, and you see that Vessel had messaged you. You're confused because you both hate each other. He only texts to ask questions about upcoming studio dates. You guys don't have any more until a few months.

You open the message and realize it's a series of texts.

Vessel: sorry. Not interested.

Wrong person.

Don't ask annoying questions.

You raise an eyebrow and ignore it.

---

The next morning, you sit on the couch and watch TV. Your phone starts ringing. It's ii. You answer it. "Yes?" You ask.

"Sorry to bother you! Would it be okay if the band comes to use your studio?" He asks.

"Sure!" You reply.

You guys end the phone call, and you just chill and wait for them. While waiting, it starts to storm again. You groan, realizing it's bad enough that you could lose power.

Within a few minutes, the whole gang walk inside in a hurry, a bit wet from the rain.

"Phew! Thanks for letting us use your basement for a few hours." iii says with a smile.

"No problem! Just don't leave a mess. Also, we may lose power soon, so use your time while you can." You smile back and then return to your phone.

The guys scramble to your basement. Not even 30 minutes later, the power goes out. All you see is black and small flashes from the lightening through the window.

"Perfect." You mumble.

The door going to the basement opens, and the guys step out with their phones lights on.

"Bummer." IV chuckles.

"Sorry, guys.. we'll try again in-", you try to speak, but everyone's phone goes off. You check your phone and see a tornado warning. "Perfect." You mumble again.

"I'll light some candles. Would you mind if we stayed here until it passes?" iii asks, moving to the candles you have set out, pulling out a lighter from his pocket.

"I don't mind at all. It'll make me feel better, too. It's too dangerous to be on the road. You guys can pick who gets the spare room and the couches in here." You giggle.

"Yeah, I'd rather get sucked into the tornado than stay here longer than I intended." Vessel says.

"Good for you. You get the couch then." You deadpan.

"If you two start bickering again, I'm going to bed. I call the spare bedroom." ii snorts.

iii gets all of the candles lit. It sends a small bright orange tint in the living room and kitchen. He sighs and sits on the couch. Everyone turns off the flash on their phones.

"Alright, I'm gonna go to bed." You stand up and walk into your room.

You pass out for a few minutes but wake up to loud thunder that shakes your bed. "Shit." You hiss. Your throat is dry, so you make your way out into the hall to get into the kitchen. But as you close your door, you bump into a body.

"Watch it." Vessel hisses.

"Why're you up?" You ask with attitude.

"Can a man pee without being questioned?" He starts to walk to the kitchen.

You follow because you need some water. "What were the texts about?" You ask, opening the fridge.

Vessel scoffs and sits at the table. You turn to face him. The candles light up just enough to where you can see his face.

"Of course you'd ask. A girl texted me. I wasn't interested." He crosses his arms.

"Okay." You chug the water.

"Thirsty?" He snickers.

"Bite me." You toss the bottle into the trash can.

"Dare me?" He smirks.

You sigh and start to walk away. He gets out of the chair and grabs onto your neck, pushing you into the fridge.

"Say it again." He threatens.

His face is close. You're getting nervous. You can feel his breath against your lips. He smells so heavenly. His hand on your neck slightly turns you on.

"Bite me."

He smiles before bringing his hand to your jaw, pushing your head to the side to give him your full neck. He leans in and gently bites your skin.

You gasp and out of instinct, and without thinking, you grab onto his waist. Your thumbs are on the sides of his abs.

He pulls away and looks over you. "You want me, don't you?"

You do. You always have, even though he's a dick to you. But you know this won't mean anything to him. He's going to push you to the side after you give in. You're just another girl he can get with. You wiggle your way out of his arms and look over him with shock. Just as you do so, the lights cut back on. "I.. better turn off the lights so that they don't wake up in there." You point toward the living room.

Vessel nods his head and stands in place. He watches you move around to the living room and switch off the lights.

You go back into the kitchen and blow out the candles. You walk over to the stove and turn on the small light underneath it. You ignore Vessel and begin to make your way back into the hallway. You walk into your room but you hear him follow behind you.

"You didn't answer my question." He closes the door behind him.

You sit down on your bed and look up at him. "You don't like me." You reply.

"You think so?" He crosses his arms and smirks.

"You're arrogant, cocky, and so mean to me! You know you're irresistible, and you can get anyone you want! But I'm not a toy, Vessel." You watch his face straighten out from his smirk.

Vessel steps in front of your legs that dangle from the side of your bed. He bends down to reach your level. He looks up at you with soft eyes. "I don't know how to love properly. You scare me." He whispers.

You're taken aback. Is he admitting he's had feelings for you? What a weird way to show them.

"I haven't been with anyone since I laid my eyes on you last year. I am disgusted by other women who aren't you."

"What made you have a change of heart tonight?" You ask shyly.

"The song we were working on before the lights went out, I wrote thinking of you. When you said, 'bite me', I lost my mind." His hands grab your outer thighs. His thumbs rub your skin.

His touch sends fire through your soul and mind. You reach to put his face in your hands. You run your thumb over his bottom lip. His eyes remain on yours, letting you do what you want at the moment.

"Bite me." You smile.

He smiles as well, chuckling darkly. He pushes you back onto the bed and hovers over you. You can't help but wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His hand grabs under your thigh and pushes it down.

"Needy." He breathes on your neck. His tongue meets your collarbone and slowly makes its way up to your jaw. His kisses your neck softly before biting on your skin again.

His simple touches already send you into bliss. He hasn't even done much yet, and you're already mushy in your head. You lean back and softly whimper as he sucks on your skin.

He lets go of your skin and looks down at you. You see a whole change in the way he looks at you. He bends down and kisses you. His lips play with yours as you begin to push further and shove your tongue in his mouth.

He breathes in deeply through his nose and grabs your throat with a small pressure. His hand grabs your boob through your shirt.

You can feel his boner against your thigh, which you decide to take advantage of your position and buck your hips against him.

He groans and moves his hand down to your waist, pushing your body down against the bed to keep your still. "Fuck.." He pulls away from your lips.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Are you awake?" It's IV.

"Y-yeah.." You say.

Vessel sighs and moves to sit next to your heavy breathing body.

"The storm blew over. Do you know where Ves is?" He asks.

Before you can say anything, Vessel yells, "Yeah! I'm in here trying to make her feel good. Leave without me."

You blush and cover your face.

The footsteps slowly walk away from your door.

[pinecipitation]

Pine,,,, smiling friends headcanons, how do you think each of the boys would react to their crush saying they feel safe with them :> if not all of them, your boy Alan and Charlie and Pim (asking for us both im shaking)

SMILING FRIENDS X GN!READER HCS

FIRST OF ALL,,,, HAIIII TEDDYYYY :3 ❤️💛 HELLO WIFE HI LOML…

second of all YESSS SMILING FRIENDS CONTENT WE R SO BACKKK let me get to work ‼️

word count: around 1.2k

authors note: oh my god this was in the works for like a month, I be procrastinating really hard i’m sorry gang 😔🤞 also I’m so sorry alans is so short despite him being my favorite one I’m fighting for my life in here man

CHARLIE: (s1e6)

charlie… is almost relieved to hear it, honestly would immediately flip a switch and do the very most to KEEP you as safe as you can be- but hide it in a playful manner. would carry you for the rest of your life if you asked, just because you inflated his ego.

The two of you are almost halfway in the enchanted forest, you walking in front of Charlie as you hold a little makeshift map in front of the two of you. The whole time Charlie is pointing out little shortcuts, you erasing and drawing paths over and over on the paper until a particularly strong gust of wind blow it away from the two of you, his shocked mouth open and yours would’ve opened if the pencil wasn’t still in your mouth. You didn’t want to say it, but you felt a little aggravated at him for losing your focus like that.

You stop to let him speed up in front of you, the two of you continuing onwards in silence before he speaks.

“Listen… I-“

“It’s fine, you go and I follow. I trust you.”

The minute those words left your mouth, Charlie immediately stops and turns to look at you, the clinks and clanks of his armor making it almost comedic.

“What?”

“…I said you could lead the way?-“

“No,” he shakes his head, the helmet shifting with him, “After that.”

You look at him quizzically, your arms awkward by your side as you look to the side then to him again.

“I trust you?”

What you couldn’t see was Charlie internally squealing like a little girl, happy that someone like you can allow themselves to be so carefree around him. Except you weren’t just someone; he’s unknowingly had a thing for you long enough to where it’s embarrassing that he hasn’t made a move. But, somehow, you telling him that made him understand why he got so nervous around you. Why he always felt let down whenever you had a different mission that day and couldn’t hang with him and Pim. Why he always slightly pulled aside the seat next to him in the office just so you’d sit next to him instead of across.

He finally realized he liked you.

But of course, he’d never say that out loud.

What he did do, however, was immediately grin and flex, his armor audibly showing him move as if he were showing off in a gym mirror.

“Well of course you do, I’d be concerned if you didn’t think a hero like me could protect you. I mean, look at me,” he plays along, successfully earning a chuckle from you before you roll your eyes and shift the bag on your shoulder before you keep moving ahead.

“Alright, hero- hey-!” Your joking manner was cut short as Charlie picks you up, flinging you over his shoulder as his laugh rockets off the trees around the two of you.

Your giggles and pleas to be let down drowned out as he thought about that sentence once more, thinking about what to do to hopefully hearing it again another time.

PIM: (s1e4)

pim….. he’d be so happy, would internally have a little panicked spongebob brain moment but on the outside he’s a stuttering blushing mess. as if he isn’t pink enough.

“Don’t worry, i’ll use this rock to mark the trees- we can find our way back easy!”

Pims words seemed like an echo, his happy go easy personality twenty minutes ago almost feeling like a warning now that the two of you crossed that bridge. The two of you just barely escaped the rain, logs and sticks discarded as the rickety cabin door you called shelter slammed shut.

You were both dripping, Pims cowboy outfit making wet stretching noises every time he stretched his leg or raised his arm. Your outfit was also drenched, a small rip or two from the thorns you pulled away from on the run here.

You were still kneeled over catching your breath as the thunder pursued outside, Pim shakingly clearing his throat before looking up at you with disappointed eyes.

“Listen,… I’m really sorry, I didn’t think it would rain or anything but even then I shouldn’t have taken us across the bridge, and now it’s my fault we’re here-,” he begins, his wet hat now in his hands as he stares down at his cowboy spurs. He only really looked up once he hears you interrupted him with a laugh, a sound he immediately feels his cheeks redden to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just a little rain. We’ll be okay- plus, I feel safe with you. I know we’ll make it back fine.”

You were facing down trying to wring the water out of your hair and costume, thinking nothing of it, but to Pim?

To Pim, it meant everything.

He immediately stopped, his eyes widening as he stares at you with his mouth slightly ajar, the redness in his cheeks instantly spreading to his nose and ears. It took two or three tries for him to get his words out, the clothes on him somehow feeling tighter the more he tried to express himself.

“You… you trust me??” The way his meek voice instantly made you straighten up and look at him, the barely there water in his eye almost making you feel guilty for saying it.

Immediately you went to go hold him, your hands wrapping around his back as he listens to you giggle out a ‘Of course! Pim, are you okay?’ and he nods in return. His hands interlock together behind your back, his cheek on your shoulder as he thanks you.

ALAN: (s2e3)

alan… my wife.. would definitely think about asking if you’re SURE. in that case, he’s taken it upon himself to keep his eyes on you like a HAWK, unfortunately intimidating everyone around the two of you.

You seem to feel oddly safe perusing the streets of CrimeVille, thinking back on everyone’s warnings of how dangerous the place was. This is too easy, you think, feeling like everyone was just exaggerating the state of where you two were. What you didn’t realize, however, was Alan shooting everyone the stink eye of the century as he walks behind you.

It wasn’t too long ago when you two left the OfficeCrap, the following conversation unexpected as you both walked out.

“I can do it myself, I don’t want you going to that part of town…” Alan mumbles, the soft mechanic noise of the sliding door behind you helping end his sentence. You only shake your head, shushing him before pronouncing how you’ll be fine, and you trust him to protecting you if anything.

Unbeknownst to you, that’s the only thing Alan’s been thinking about since you left. Fortunately for Alan, being tall and having a somewhat stoic resting facial expression, he was very easy to intimidate anyone looking at you.

He almost walked like your shadow, hands in his pocket as he walks over you like a protective red totem, his blue tie occasionally brushing the top of your head as he looms over everything.

[squinch-depraved]

ok. now we need the whole damn gang getting their virginity taken, ted but like he’s a little more experienced (knowledge wise) and understands the female body ⁉️

here you go my lovelies part 5 of the virgin college au (new dividers how do we like them)

so.

ted knocks on your door, only a little bit nervous

and you answer it, immediately rolling your eyes and letting him in just like you did with his friends

"let me fucking guess," you start, already knowing what he's here for

"i can do better than them," he cuts you off

"i've done research, i've talked to my friends that are girls, i know i could make you feel better than they did for my first time."

his refusal to beat around the bush takes you by surprise, and you wince as you look around to see if your roommate heard him

"a-alright, ted. follow me, just... shut up. my roommate hasn't left yet."

he nods, grinning, and trails behind you all the way down the hallway and into your room, setting his stuff down on the floor next to the doorway as you crawl onto your bed

jesus, schlatt wasn't wrong. there are so many stuffed animals, ted thinks to himself as he stands there awkwardly, awaiting your instructions

"he talked about my fucking plushies, didn't he," you chuckle, noticing his expression as he tried to count how many there were

"to be fair, he said it was really cute. and he wasn't wrong," ted replies smoothly, walking to sit on the edge of the mattress

"does he know about charlie?" you ask quietly, unable to look him in the eyes

"the text you sent him. he read it."

"fuck," you sigh, running one hand through your hair

"i hope it doesn't cause problems between you guys. schlatt and i have talked; we're not exclusive. i told him that. he can't be mad."

"i don't think he's mad at you," ted reassures you. "i think he's a little hurt that charlie went to you the first weekend he wasn't here, but he'll probably get over it pretty quickly. he's not the type to hold a grudge like that, especially against one of his best friends and the person who took his virginity."

you ponder his words, shaking your head to clear yourself of the knowledge and focus on the task at hand after a few moments

"what exactly makes you think you could fuck me better?" you ask, reclining onto the pile of stuffed animals and stretching your legs out in front of you

ted stammers for only a second, then swiftly responds with, "for starters, i've heard quite a bit about you from schlatt and charlie. kinda goin' into this with a head start, don't you think?"

"'head start' as in you'll finish first? no thanks," you banter

but ted's quick to quip back

"i don't plan on finishing first. but even if i do, i'll go until i make you cum. i'll use my mouth, fingers, whatever you want. hell, i'll keep going with my cock if that's what you need. probably get super overstimulated but i want to make you feel good. i need to do better than them."

you open and close your mouth a few times, trying to find the right response

"y-you're really competitive, huh?"

he laughs quietly and shakes his head

"i just think someone like you deserves to be treated well. more so than those two can do for you."

"you know, you're really lucky you're attractive? because if you weren't, this whole confident, never-been-touched-before-but-i-know-what-i'm-doing schtick would be incredibly annoying."

ted grins, a goofy smile that warms your heart slightly, and jokes, "it'll get annoying fast. just wait."

with a snort, you motion for him to crawl on top of you, and he does, staring down at you with his gorgeous hazel eyes for a few seconds before leaning in to press a kiss to your lips

"mmmfhhh," you moan against him as he gently bites down onto your bottom lip

ted smirks into the kiss and uses one hand to cup your face as he slides his tongue into your mouth, other hand reaching under your shirt to feel for your chest

once he takes your nipple between his fingers, you gasp and arch your back slightly, desperate for more contact

frustratedly, you withdraw from the kiss, a string of saliva leaving you connected

he watches with a hungry smile as you peel your top off, taking the strings of your sweatpants in one hand and tugging on them gently

"greedy!!" you tease him

but you indulge him, slipping out of the pants and tossing them off the side of the bed

his breath hitches in his throat at the sight of you nearly bare in front of him, clad in only a skimpy pair of panties that he so desperately wants to rip off with his teeth

"thought you said you know what you're doing," you snicker, amused by his vacant expression

your joke snaps him out of it, and he pulls his shirt over his head with one arm, reaching behind him to grab the fabric from the nape of his neck and paying no mind as it falls to the floor

"f-fuck," you stutter

he's thrown you off a bit with how smooth the motion is, not to even mention how good he looks just wearing jeans

ted notices your hesitation and grins, spreading your legs open and crawling in between them

"they weren't this forward, were they?"

you let out a shaky breath as he plants a sloppy kiss to your neck

"no," you sigh. "they weren't."

"mm. bet you had to tell them what to do."

"yeah, i did. schlatt was okay, he got the hang of it, but charlie was- agh! fuck!" you hiss when he takes your flesh between his teeth and bites down, sucking a dark mark into it

"ted!!"

"what?" he purrs, pulling away to look at you

usually you were the one that left the bruises

now, whenever you saw schlatt, you'd have even more explaining to do

when he realizes you're unable to come up with anything to say, he smirks down at you and moves to kiss your chest

"you were telling me about charlie?" he asks before taking one nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it

"yeah. um, fuck. uhh, he was... he was good," you stammer, rolling your eyes back into your head slightly

"he didn't give a lot of details. i'm guessing he's more of a gentleman than schlatt?"

your face heats up even more at his words uttered against your warm skin

"you could say that." you decide to not say anything else in case charlie was embarrassed

"fuck, you're so hot," he groans as he presses his face between your breasts and brings them to sandwich his head

a laugh escapes you, the melodic sound filling the air and causing ted to raise his head to look at you

"this isn't sexy, is it?"

you giggle again and smooth down a wild tuft of his hair

"not in the usual way, but your awkward eagerness to please is kind of turning me on."

he grins again and sits up, unbuttoning his jeans and sliding them off

you try not to, but you can't help but stare at his clothed bulge

he looks so sexy in his boxers, a small happy trail now complimenting his chest hair

"what?" he asks, smile faltering for just a moment when you can't do anything but admire him

"n-nothing. i just-"

"doesn't matter," he cuts you off by clambering on top of you again, leaning in to make out with you passionately

a surprised, yet aroused moan slips from your lips, and he uses one hand to tug off your panties in a seamless motion that you swear he has to have practiced before

"so wet for me already, damn."

you can hear the smile in his voice as he leans back and spreads your folds open with two fingers

"gonna taste you now."

"mhm," you answer absent-mindedly, too focused on the way his cock twitches through his boxers

ted stares up at you once he positions himself right in front of your cunt, giving you a look of pure desire

gingerly, he scoots closer and presses a wet kiss to your clit, eyes flicking between your dazed expression and your soaked pussy to make sure he's doing it right

eventually he starts dipping his tongue into your hole, savoring the taste and mirroring you by groaning softly into you

you're whining and moaning and bucking your hips in pure bliss, because, for once, you don't have to teach this fool how to make you feel good

he's incredible; better than schlatt was at first

"ted!! fuck, fuck me, oh my god," you babble, bringing your legs to wrap around his head

"mm, not yet. enjoying how sweet you are on my tongue," he coos into your dripping core

with an agonized wail, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him even closer against your cunt

"this isn't fair," you whine, yet you smile dreamily as you say it

"i think it is. you put up with so many guys that don't know what they're doing, and finally one comes along who did the research to know how to make you feel good, and you just wanna rush things. it's sad."

"research won't mean shit if i get you worked up enough," you chuckle breathlessly

"maybe. we'll have to see," he muses, shoving his face back between your thighs

the unexpectedness of the whole situation makes it surprisingly easy for you to cum

ted picks up on your signals, speeding up when you start arching your back, curling his fingers inside you when you begin to scream his name

a mess is made all over his face, along with your bedsheets, when you release; stars fleck your vision and pulse in time with your heartbeat, which you can hear clear as day in your ears

"see? now i can fuck you," he pants, immense pride obvious in his tone

"shut the fuck up and take those off," you growl, reaching to tug at the hem of his boxers

he laughs and obliges, pumping himself in one hand and absorbing the look of hunger in your eyes

"fuck, ted," you whisper, excited to take his length, but unsure of how much it would hurt

"oh! hold on," he exclaims, rising from the bed and going to dig into his bag by the door

it takes him a second, and you impatiently blow some hair out of your face as you wait, but he returns with a condom

just tears it open with his teeth and slides it on, with relative ease, considering he's never used one before

once he's wrapped, he slides between your legs again, kissing you one more time before pressing his tip to your entrance

"you ready?"

he sounds so loving, so patient

so it's a shock when you mumble a, "yes," and he pushes into you forcefully, not enough to hurt, but enough to make you gasp and wince

"what's wrong??" he asks, taking one of your hands in his and bringing it to his lips to kiss

"nothing. big. hurts a bit. just go," you spit out rapidly

ted grins and proceeds to start pumping in and out of you, head falling forward as he processes the pleasure he's receiving as your walls envelop him

"fuck, baby!" he grunts once he establishes a brutal pace

"this good?"

"you like how i'm fuckin' you?"

unable to speak, you nod and dig your nails into his back, clawing him up and down

"not bad for my first time, right?" he chuckles

"you- fuck! have got the ego of a god," you gasp, locking your legs around him

"good thing i fuck like one, then, hmm?"

you let out a strangled growl, a bit mad that he actually is as good as he said he'd be, and dig your nails deeper into his back

"you're so fucking annoying," you manage to choke out

"hah! see, told you it'd get annoying fast," he laughs

"god, fuck, ted, i don't- i'm gonna cum again- i'm- fuck..." you ramble, squeezing your legs tighter and tighter around him

"you keep- ngh, clenching like that around me and i'm gonna cum too," he groans, more breathless than before

"fuuuck, teddy!!!" you wail, your whole body shuddering for a moment before going limp

ted just grunts and slams into you a bit harder a few more times, burying himself in you and collapsing onto you, chest heaving

"get off me, you loser," you tease in mock disgust, secretly enjoying the scent of his sweat as it drips down onto you

he rolls to the other side of the bed, smiling, and stares up at the ceiling as he tries to catch his breath

you joke with each other for a few minutes before your phone starts ringing

a glance at the screen reveals it's schlatt calling

ted starts getting dressed as soon as he sees who it is

and good thing too, because as soon as you answer, schlatt's voice rings through the phone, audible to both of you even though he's not on speaker

"i'm on my way over right now. we need to fucking talk."

that's all he says before he hangs up

the terrified expression on your face is enough for ted to toss his bag over his shoulder and rest one hand on your bedroom dorknob

"i should probably leave, huh?"

"yeah."

"...cool. we should do this again, though, right?"

a small smile spreads across your face

"...yeah."

[2knightt]

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

[rlimagi]

When Everything Else Becomes Too Much

Pairing: Bridget x reader

Requested?: Yes!

Genre: Angst and Fluff!

Warnings: sad Bridget

Note: Another Bridget one because I love her sm and many of you guys asked me to write more for her, so here you go<3

You and Bridget had always been by each other's side sine elementary school, she was your go to person for everything and you were hers. There was a bond of deep understanding and love between you and the princess of Wonderland.

Which was why you were the first person she came to after everything and everyone else became too much.

You were alone in your room, going through your Magical History notes since exam season was coming up when you heard someone knocking on your door.

Immediately, you knew it was Bridget because she was the only person in the whole school who knew how to knock. Most of your friends would barge in your room like it was their own.

You were immediately met with a bone crushing hug as soon as you opened the door. You breathed in the sweet smell of her candy scented perfume as you melted into the hug.

"Hey there, pretty girl." You muttered as you wrapped your arms around her waist. Bridget stayed quiet as she nuzzled into your neck. She was never that quiet so you knew that something bad must've happened to make her so upset.

"Alright, we can talk whenever you feel like talking...but we really should head inside instead of standing in the middle of the hallway." You waited until she nodded before locking her hands into yours and leading her into your room.

Bridget sighed as she settled into your soft blankets, basically drowning in your plushies as you tugged her in. “I know that you were planning to study all day and I'm sorry for distracting yo-”

"No, you'd never be a distraction." You reassured her with a soft smile before lifting her hands up and placed a gentle kiss on them. You enjoyed watching how her face reddened up whenever you do those simple but loving gestures.

“Now tell me what got you so upset, do I need to beat someone up?” You said jokingly, giving her a cheeky grin when she sent you a reprimanding look.

Bridget shook her head before pulling you onto the bed, yearning for the comfort of your body. “No, please don’t. I don’t want to see you in detention for me again.”

Bridget was the nicest person ever, even to people who never deserved her kindest. Especially Uliana and her gangs of delinquents, you had a long and violent history with them. Detention was your second home at that point but it didn’t matter because you would always win and you got the girl too.

“Alright, fine I won’t…though I would be up for it if you ever change your mind?” You chuckled as she leaned onto your shoulder, your arms wrapped around hers as she played with your hair.

A few minutes of silence passed before Bridget finally spoke up.

“Am I weak?” Bridget asked, her eyes bubbling up with tears as she looked at you with such vulnerable eyes. It made you upset knowing the exact person who made her felt like that, but you couldn’t get them yet because Bridget needed you the most.

“No, of course not. You’re the strongest person I know.” You gently used your hands to wipe her tears away as she sat in silence before looking at you with sparkling eyes.

“Really? Because everyone else seems to think that I’m a pushover…I try so hard to get them to like me, I offer them treats, I let them copy of my homework, and I never said anything when they talked about me behind my back…” Bridget wasn’t able to stop her tears from falling anymore, she was hurt by all the things people had said behind her back but she never wanted it to bother her.

“Yeah, they’re right. I’m a total pushover.”

Bridget would always say that we get more with sugar than salt but today, everything and everyone was too much. But you were the only one she felt like she could never get enough of.

“And what’s so bad about being a pushover? Your kindness is why you’re so strong because no matter how vile and mean people can get, you would never stoop to their level.” You said as you locked your hands into hers firmly. Looking at her gently as you continued to ramble on.

“Like Uliana for example, that girl can’t breathe without ruining someone’s day-“

Bridget watched as you continued on with so much passion, it made her heart flutter by the way you reassured her with so much love. It felt like time had slowed down for her because all she could focus on were your lips.

“You know how hard that is for me to not fight back when Uliana barks in my ear every time we see each other? But you’re so natural at it because you’re patient, forgiving, and extremely strong. That’s what I love about you and you should love yourself for that reason too.” You didn’t even notice that you’ve been talking for so long because you got so riled up just thinking about all the people that had done your girlfriend wrong.

“Thank you, baby. I really needed to hear that.” Bridget’s frown finally turned upside down and she pulled you into another hug but it was much softer this time, it made you feel like you’re on top of the world after seeing that she felt much better.

“Of course, anytime sweetheart.” You smiled as you gently kissed her on her forehead, running your hair through her soft pink hair.

Without another second wasted, Bridget wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled your face closer to hers. Your eyes were met with a pair of loving gaze as she leaned in, you’ve kissed Bridget many times but she never failed to make your heart flutter every single time.

When Bridget’s lips met yours, it felt like fireworks were blowing up inside of her body and all she could care about was the girl who made her feel that way.

[patisseriu]

he tasted of dark chocolate || hts

univ!taesan x gn!reader

genre : strangers to ???

wc : ~2.1k

cw & tw : late night walks, exam period, riwoo and leehan are taesans edgy little friend group; bad influence, cigarettes - both taesan and y/n smoke here(smoking is bad don't smoke please), implied over the legal age; y/n supposedly has quit smoking but taesan is being a hot influencing asshole ppl loooove taesan badboy agenda don’t they. y/n is mentioned to be shorter than taesan, and is kinda cocky in the beginning. there's swearing. lots of internal monologue. use of real names.

no pronouns used; full lowercase intended; proofread

main character names are italicised

you loved these little moments when the sky had just turned dark, the dark-purple veil taking over the silver clouds, making them nearly impossible to tell apart from one another. sun was nowhere to be seen since the passing streetlights were the ones responsible for playing with your shadow now, casting it in different directions as you kept walking.

its been a long week. you just finished studying for the exams taking place tomorrow. you still wondered what luck it took for the two of your most important classes to have exams on the same day, back to back. you were a lot more excited for the following whole month of a break than frying the remaining bits of your brain over the final academic push. maybe you weren't all that confident in your knowledge even after the whole weekend worth of studies. or maybe you were overdoing it and pushing your mind in a corner.

either way, that didn't matter now. you didn't want it to matter.

you focused on the cold air you inhaled, wanting to float away from all the worries along with the wind particles that ruffled your hair.

it snowed just last week, giving you hopes for a prettier imagery during your testing period, but the continuous forecast of rain and warmer temperatures melted everything down, leaving nothing but a slight shine on the road and a humid hint in the air.

and as you immersed yourself more in the atmosphere, the one thing that made you snap back from your thoughts was the appearance of a persisting bitter smell. you open your eyes.

in front of you, a group of three boys were making their way in the same direction as you were, completely barricading the entirety of a thin alleyway as they all walked beside one another. the three were dressed in same dark colors, beanies over their heads, and the shorter guy on the right side even turned over his shoulder for moment and gave you a tense eye. seems about the typical public to walk around these times. you turned your head and looked around, feeling like you shouldn't have looked up in the first place.

but you wish it was as easy to switch your attention with just a head turn. a wave of a sharp, acrid scent mixed with the crisp night air stung the walls of your nose. it was so familiar. though you tried to bury it in the fragments of your memory, there were times when you yourself would be in their shoes; inhaling a chestful of smoke after along day that felt like it would never end, the bitter burn of nicotine hitting your throat like flames.

you didn’t need to look up again to know the source. it quite literally was all around their presence - the smoke of cheap cigarettes, ones that burned too quickly and with too much force.

by the time you were shaking yourself mentally out of it, the casted shadows of the group before you were already actively whispering between each other, giving you over the shoulder looks until all three had glared at you at least once. great. if you didn't feel weird before now you definitely were.

you tucked your hands into the pockets of your jacket and tried to keep your pace steady, swallowing, eyes still down on the asphalt. but that was only for a couple more seconds or so, until the boys had seemed to stop their pace and turn your way.

"hey," the guy in the middle, clearly the 'leader' of their little gang, was trying to get your attention. unexpected. you really wished to be able to just pass by, you didn't want any tension or problems, especially on a relatively empty street, sky getting darker every second. you really tried making it look like you didn't pay that much mind, until getting uncomfortably close and having to stop. you tilted your head up, not enough to meet gazes just yet, as looking at them directly seemed like a death wish at the very moment.

"got somewhere to be?" his voice was teasing, eyebrows raised at you sternly ignoring him for as long as you could. his question hung in the air like the smoke curling from the corner of his lips.

you really panicked for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"just passing through," you replied, voice steady despite the uneasy thrum in your chest. did that sound stupid? obviously you weren't following them. self doubts climbed up your skin along with the shivers. you kept your eyes on the leader, sensing he was the one who mattered most in this interaction. hell, you almost felt like breathing too much could've turned out the wrong way for you.

his lips curled at your answer, not quite a smirk, but close enough. "passing through, huh?" he echoed, as if tasting the words. did it really sound that stupid? you felt almost embarrassed at this point. doing your best to keep your form, you finally brought your eyes to examine the guy's face.

god, was he tall. his shoulders seemed especially broad with the unzipped puffer jacket resting on his shoulders, and height was hyperbolized by the below-average sized guy next to him. as your eyes crawled up to take apart his face, in the matter of seconds you noted the uniqueness of his features, his sharp jawline and plump lips that just finished letting go of a grey ribbon of smoke. his mimic seemed almost like one of a hand-drawn character, eyebrows especially expressive.

you felt so small, unrealistically small, nearly a whole meter smaller than him. a weird feeling continued spreading all across your body, so fast you couldn't even tell what it was.

you weren't the only one observing a stranger - while the tallest man was clearly staring back at you, his other two partners were doing just the same, but instead of your face they were more taking apart the details of your outfit.

standing so close to them and the recently released cloud of smoke just got in your head further, making it surprisingly difficult for you to feel like the whole situation wasn't just a part of your imagination or a hazy dream.

"do you smoke?"

what an ironic fucking question. the universe might have just been testing you right now. you had to take a second and blink to make sure this wasn't your brain talking.

"if you're sharing."

how pathetic.

how. fucking. pathetic.

the words just left your mind as if you turned back time, as if the whole period of quitting didn't even happen.

the man seemed to be in complete awe at your response, though. his lips parted, and eyebrows raised even higher. somehow he combined the expression of a subtle gasp with a smirk, clearly liking the way you spoke to him, how confident you seemed in the words, even if in reality you really weren't.

he looked at the two boys standing beside him, motioning something with his head, followed then by the two nodding and continuing to walk forward in the direction you all were going to initially, already finding themselves busy enough with a topic to discuss.

he used the one hand with a glowing, nearly-spent cigarette to hold up the the fabric of his jacket, so he could reach into the inner pocket and offer a brand new one to you. "be my guest"

if you're this far in, and the man in front of you is that good looking, there isn't much that could convince you to back off now. this isn't your proudest move.

you take the cigarette with a nod as a polite 'thanks', resting the fragile cylinder between the two of your fingers and bringing it closer to your lips.

you expected for him to also take out the lighter by now, but after shifting your focus for just a mere moment, you were only met with him inches closer to your face, the smoldering bud now pressed between his lips.

that was the exact second you felt it - your heart was beating at a pretty crazy pace. holy shit. your fingers were on the edge of shaking from the adrenaline in your veins, but you could probably shrug it off on the cold or the nicotine itself.

you knew exactly what to do, and the desire to keep your cool moved your head forward, the burning tip of his cigarette meeting the edge of yours with precision. a deep inhale and the faint crackle of the ember lit your own, sound filling the silence between you, something so quiet and gentle yet impossibly loud in the moment.

you swear his pupils dilated more with each second before you backed off to let out the first puff of bitter smoke. you felt disgusting. but yours probably got just as big in the moment. the heat seemed to be hitting not only your throat but also inching somewhere deeper. was it the same kind of heat? it's been too long for you to understand, and too many emotions were taking over you at the moment.

"I'm dongmin" with a soft smile and a draw from what's left of his bud, he extended his free hand out to you for a handshake, to which you did the same.

"y/n"

he looked at you with a smile, so mellow and cute, practically melting off the 'scary guy' image off his face. and you noticed it before he seemed to try and shrug it off right as he caught himself on it, suddenly starting to pace forward once again, you followed right after.

maybe it wasn't just you trying to make yourself look cool in front of the other for an impression.

"other two are donghyun and sanghyeok." he kept staring off into their backs, already significantly far that they couldn't hear any of his words, without trying to be quiet. "they're nicer than they look." he turned to you, the revealed tenderness still in the notes of his suppressed expression. it felt.. genuine.

you smiled back, walking beside one another in comfortable silence for a few moments, only the sound of your footsteps and the occasional inhale of smoke filling the air.

as the cigarette burned down to its last embers, your guilt was somewhere long forgotten, and the other two boys in the distance already seemed to walk off the other way, the two of you had made your way right to the entrance of your dorm without really thinking about it, filled with all kinds of conversations and facts about one another. both of your phone numbers already in the contacts of another. the cool night air had settled around you both, and you stood there for a moment, unsure of how to put the point you had in mind the whole time.

"you know, maybe we all are 'nicer than we look'" you quoted dongmin's words from the very beginning of your chat, and he felt a pang of surprise at you recalling his words. surely, by the way he shyly smiled and led his eyes away for a moment, you could tell he did find that bit of your words truthful. his exaggerated coolness slowly coming off, revealing a faint pink shade over his cheeks, so light it almost had a pastel-like quality.

and while you were busy noticing such details about him, all warm and fuzzy in your feelings, you didn't notice how dongmin stepped closer. there was no hesitation in his movement, and before you could process it, his hand was at the back of your neck, pulling you in gently.

the kiss was soft, exploratory, like he was tasting the moment, tasting you. it was nothing like you expected, no rushed desperation, only a slow, lingering connection that felt entirely new. his lips were utterly bitter, but had a distinct note - he tasted of dark chocolate.

the moment felt fleeting, and ended just as carefully and gently as it started. after a shared smile, you stayed a little longer for a tight hug, before waving goodbye and him observing the door behind you close.

the whole evening still felt like a haze - your head was dizzy from the warmness of your feelings, everything inside you fluttered and a smile was impossible to erase from your face as you rode up the elevator; you wondered if he felt the same way, walking back to his place.

you were looking forward to tomorrow, and the day after; to more things to share about yourself, more things to learn about him; and eventually, after some while, watch him chuckle at you confessing you agreed to smoke just to continue a conversation with him, and appear cooler.

maybe you share more than it seemed, and the things that brought you closer might have been just equally pretentious.

[heavenlymorals]

Biblical References in Both RDR games.

I love biblical references so much. When it comes to literature, it's probably my favorite type of symbolism. Like I genuinely get so happy when I connect things to the Bible which is what I'm going to do right now 😊😊 I also like the way that religion is incorporated into RDR as a whole, including the main characters' reaction to it.

So yup, here are just a few references or connections that I was able to make in no particular order.

Also, some of these are complete reaches and I'm aware of that, but fuck it, it's my blog and I do what I want 💪🏼

- The character and tragedy of Issac. In the Bible, Issac is the child of Abraham who is asked to be sacrificed by God by his father as a test of faith. God eventually intervenes to save Issac because he only wanted to test Abraham's faith. Dutch is shown as a God-like figure to the gang, as their devotion is to him. Arthur, indirectly, sacrifices Issac by not being there and by following what Dutch wanted. Arthur, Issac, and Dutch are parallels to Abraham, Issac, and God.

- Leviticus is the book that comes after the book of Exodus. After the gang's escape or exodus from Blackwater after the Blackwater massacre, they are met by Leviticus Cornwall, who becomes the next obstacle for the gang. After the gang's exodus, they get in trouble with Leviticus.

- The image of the deer and a mountain. Psalm 18:32-34 in the Bible says, "It is God who arms me with strength, and makes my way blameless? He makes my feet like deers' feet, and sets me upon my high places." In Arthur's condemnation of Dutch, Micah, and their evil, he becomes steady in his identity and beliefs, like a deer's feet on a mountain, which is where he dies in the end. W symbolism.

- The mission "Sodom? Back to Gomorrah." In the Bible, Sodom and Gomorrah were two cities that were so morally depraved and evil that God decided to destroy the both of them, saying that if there was even one good person in those cities, he'd spare them, but there weren't. In those missions, you also do two evil acts, going from one and then BACK to the other. You rob the bank and then go BACK to collect the debt from Edith Downes. So you finish one evil deed and to straight to the next. This can also show how morally bankrupt Arthur's apathy made him at this point in the game.

- Micah's guns say "Vengeance is hereby mine." This could be a reference to Roman's 12:19 "vengeance is mine sayeth the Lord." Micah's violent nature makes him take his anger out on the world.

- "Your father is seduced by him with the forked tongue. It's no use hoping." The blind prophet to Arthur. Pretty straight forward symbolism, it's a nod to the snake that seduced Eve, just like how Micah manipulates Dutch.

- Dutch walking away from Arthur when he dies and though he realizes his wrong doing and feels shame, his pride forbids him from apologizing or saying he was wrong. This can be a parallel to how Adam and Eve run away from God when they feel shame over believing in the snake, but their pride won't allow them to apologize to God, hence damning them like how Micah damned Dutch.

- There were twelve ACTIVE gang members before the Blackwater massacre. When I mean active, I mean gang members who are canonically consistent (so not uncle, Swanson, Strauss, or the girls) on going on jobs for the gang. Micah, Bill, Javier, John, Hosea, Arthur, Charles, Sean, Lenny, Josiah, Mac and Davey Callender. Christ had 12 disciples and Dutch is portrayed as a savior to the gang, or a Christ like figure. And would you look at that, there is a traitor in both groups of twelve (Micah and Judas).

- Both John and Arthur's graves have scripture from Jesus's sermon on the mountain (Matthew 5:1-12). John's is blessed are the peacemakers and Arthur's is blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness.

- The go back for the money ending. If you go back for the money and have low honor, you'll see that the camp is engulfed in flames as you try to get the money. The fight with Micah is brutal and you die faced down in the dark. This death is an allegory for going to either hell and purgatory as you choose a final evil act of leaving your brother to possibly die just so you can get money as an act of revenge. If you have high honor, you are still surrounded by flames, but you still have a chance at heaven given that you die facing up seeing the light one final time.

- The help John ending has similar connotations. If you have low honor, you die by gunshot and are shrouded in darkness, which can symbolize the absence of God's light and how Arthur's final act couldn't absolve the lack of guilt he feels for the rest of the actions that he KNOWS are evil (click here for a my interpretation of Arthur's morality). In high honor, though, you get to crawl to the mountain side and see the rising sun, symbolizing heaven, warmth, and a new purity.

- In low honor, the coyote goes down to a dark cave, representing damnation and the rejection of holy light. In high honor, the deer steps into a heavenly field of light. Love that so much to be honest.

- Just the very Catholic vibe of Arthur's redemption. Doing good deeds, feeling guilt, all that.

- John's new life is basically this: "Let him who stole steal no longer, but rather let him labor, working with his hands what is good, that he may have something to give him who has need." -Ephesians 4:28. John gives up his old life to be an honest laborer, a rancher, and a proper man.

- The Strange Man in RDR rides on a donkey, which is pretty interesting because Jesus Christ also made his grand entry on a donkey.

- Just the Strange Man in general to be honest. Some say he's God, others say he's the Devil, and others say he's Cain from the Bible, which is my personal favorite theory but whatever.

- Dutch's horse could be a reference to Revelations 6:8- "And I looked, and behold, a pale horse! And its rider's name was Death, and Hades followed him." Dutch's rash actions caused the death of the gang and RDR's incarnate of Hades or Hell was Micah, following him. Dutch is the only one, canonically, to have a pale horse.

- "Am I prepared for eternal damnation? Am I passed any kind of saving? Or is that just fairy tales?" Arthur in his journal. I love this line so much because of its very agnostic nature whilst still showing the Christian mindset of 1899 America. This line also shows that Arthur is canonically agnostic which is a yippee from me because it's like the only thing me and this man have in common lmao 😭

- "Bad news awaits you, sir. Sadly, sooner than you think. But beyond the news, paradise awaits. Paradise.." Blind Man Cassidy to Arthur. Sorry but I just love that. High honor Arthur lived such an awful life but he still has a chance at paradise and heaven? Love that so much.

- God (pun intended), I love biblical symbolism. Couldn't you tell?

[whereslynx]

Can you write one with cesar being in love with yn (she a gangmember too, age like maybe 18/19 or so) but she already has a bf but he doesnt know? (Bf can be in the gang too, maybe oscar or sad eyes or joker…) thank u 😘

a/n: no problem! uh, the more i proof read my work, the more i realised how it got slightly angsty. so i am super sorry if that’s not what you wanted. i just figured it would since oscar is his older brother, yk?

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The late afternoon air buzzed with quiet tension as the crew continued their meeting, everyone grouped around the cars parked in their usual spot. You flicked the lighter in your hand one more time, eyes glancing over the circle where Spooky, Sad Eyes, Joker, and a few other Santos were deep in discussion. The mood was serious, but there was a certain swagger to it, a confidence that came from knowing they ran things around here.

Spooky, as always, commanded the conversation with his calm but authoritative tone. “We got the supply coming in, but it’s the drop that’s risky. Everyone’s eyes are on us right now, so we need to play this one real tight,” he said, scanning the group with a level gaze. “Ain’t no room for mistakes.”

Sad Eyes, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, chimed in, his voice low but sharp. “We can make the drop easy if we split up. Hit ‘em from different angles. Less eyes on us, less heat.”

Joker, ever the joker, couldn’t help but crack a grin. “Or we could just roll up with the whole crew, guns blazing. Problem solved.” He laughed, but when Spooky shot him a look, he quickly cleared his throat, trying to get serious. “Kidding, kidding.”

You caught the slight smirk on Oscar’s face before he shifted back into his stance as a leader, nodding thoughtfully at Sad Eyes. “Nah, Sad’s got the right idea. We’ll split into pairs. You and Joker take the south side,” he said, pointing to Sad Eyes. “I’ll handle the main drop with you.” He shifted his gaze to you, pointing, as you look up at him with a nod. “The rest, hold our shit down ‘round the streets.” He ordered, his gaze flickering between the rest of the Santos. “We keep it clean and no one gets caught up.” He said, but it was more like an order—a threat.

As they laid out the plan, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander again. You’d been in the game for a while now—just as long as any of them, and you knew how these moves worked. But tonight, it wasn’t the job that had you distracted. It was something—or rather, someone else.

“Y/N, you with us?” Spooky’s voice snapped you back to the present. His eyes were on you now, along with the rest of the crew. He always seemed to know when someone wasn’t paying attention.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said quickly, straightening up and putting the lighter back in your pocket. “Just thinking ‘bout the drop.”

Sad Eyes gave you a knowing look from across the group, his lips curling up slightly at the edges. “You sure, Y/N? Seemed like your mind was somewhere else,” he teased, though there was something more in his eyes. Something that told you he had an idea of what was on your mind.

“Nah, I’m focused,” you shot back, keeping your voice casual. “Just don’t want us getting caught slipping.”

Joker chuckled, clearly loving the tension in the air. “Better keep your head in the game then, Y/N. Don’t want Spooky getting on your ass.”

Oscar rolled his eyes at Joker’s comment but didn’t say anything, turning back to the group. “Alright, we’re done here. Get everything in place, and we’ll move tomorrow night. No mistakes.”

The meeting wrapped up, but the undercurrent between you and Sad Eyes lingered. There was always something there, something unspoken but undeniable. Little did he know, though, that you were already spoken for.

And not just by anyone. By someone in the same crew.

As everyone started breaking off, chatting in smaller groups, Sad Eyes drifted closer to you. He leaned against the car beside you, his eyes catching yours. “You know,” he said, voice low so no one else would hear, “you’ve been quiet today. What’s up with that?”

You shrugged, not wanting to give anything away. “Just thinking ‘bout business.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice dropping even lower, almost a whisper now. “You sure it’s just business? ‘Cause I’ve been getting this feeling… like maybe there’s something you’re not telling me.”

The intensity of his gaze was impossible to ignore. You could feel your heart rate picking up, the pressure building. Sad Eyes had no idea, and part of you hated keeping it from him. But the other part of you knew how complicated things could get if he found out about the person you were really with. If he knew you were with Oscar—thee Spooky. Everything would change. Not just the relationship with the Santos, but the respect you had in the crew.

You didn’t fear much, but you did fear the possibility of your crew disregarding your efforts in the Santos because of your relationship with Spooky.

You shrugged off Sad Eyes’ words, keeping your tone light. “Shiiit, I’m good, Sad. Really. Just focused on what we gotta do, that’s all.”

But you could feel his eyes on you, studying your face, like he was trying to peel back the layers of what you weren’t saying. For a moment, you thought he might push it, ask more questions, dig deeper. But then he let out a small sigh, shaking his head with a faint smile, the tension easing.

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll let it slide… for now,” he said, his voice still laced with curiosity. “Just don’t keep me in the dark too long. You know how I get.”

Before you could respond, Joker’s voice cut through the air. “Yo, Sad! We hittin’ this show or what? Get your ass in the car!”

Sad Eyes looked over his shoulder, smirking as Joker revved the engine like a show-off. Then, with one last glance at you, he pushed himself off the car and nodded. “Catch you later, Y/N.”

“Yeah,” you said, feeling the weight of everything still unsaid between you both. “Later.”

He jogged over to Joker’s car, sliding into the passenger seat as the engine roared to life. As they pulled away, you stood there for a moment, the quiet of the street settling around you. The truth still hung heavy between you and Sad Eyes, but for now, it would stay buried.

For now.

You glanced up, catching sight of Cesar standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a wall with his arms crossed. His gaze was fixed on you, like always, that quiet intensity in his eyes. It was something you’d grown used to over time, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing in the room worth paying attention to. His expression was hard to read, but there was always that undercurrent of something more than just casual interest. It somewhat reminded you of how Oscar gazed at you before you two had gotten together.

Cesar was younger than most of the guys in the Santos, still rough around the edges, but he had this presence about him. The kind that made people listen when he spoke, even if he wasn’t saying much. He had to work twice as hard to prove himself, not just because of his age, but because he was trying to step out of Oscar’s shadow. He wasn’t just trying to belong; he was trying to show everyone he deserved to be there.

You could tell he was watching you again, like he was waiting for something—maybe for you to say something first, maybe for a chance to get a little closer. He always had that look, like he was holding back, like there was more he wanted to say but couldn’t quite figure out how.

But you knew Cesar, and you knew that look well enough to understand what it meant. He had a way of making things complicated without even trying.

You flashed him a small smile, nodding your head in his direction. “You good, Cesar?”

He blinked, as if just realizing you’d caught him staring, snapping out of whatever thoughts had him so distracted. “Yeah, yeah. I’m good. Just… thinkin’.” His hand came up, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar way he did when he was trying to play off how nervous he actually felt. His eyes flicked toward you, then darted away like he was scared you’d catch too much in them. “Thinking, huh,” You laughed, almost like a gesture to tell him you knew it was bullshit without saying it, “Right, so we’ve both been thinking this whole meeting, huh.” You tilted your head, sarcasm lacing your tone.

“About what?” You crossed your arms, letting your weight shift to one side as you studied him. You already had a pretty good idea of what was running through his mind, but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. Cesar wasn’t the type to just come out and say things, and you enjoyed watching him try to navigate through whatever he was feeling.

He hesitated, his lips parting as if to answer, but then closing again just as quickly. “Nothin’ important,” he muttered, shrugging his shoulders like he wasn’t sure how to make the words come out right. He didn’t want to look at you, not directly, and it was kind of cute how awkward he got around you sometimes.

But you weren’t about to let him off that easy. “C’mon, Cesar, spill it. You’re not exactly good at hiding when something’s on your mind,” you teased lightly, taking a step closer, your gaze still fixed on him. You saw the way his jaw tensed, like he was fighting himself—wanting to say something but holding back.

His eyes finally met yours, and for a moment, there was that same intensity, the same look that always made you feel like he was seeing right through you. But he quickly looked away again, dropping his hands into his pockets. “Just… wonderin’ how things are gonna play out, you know?” He cleared his throat, avoiding the real answer, still dancing around the edges of what he really wanted to say.

You raised an eyebrow, amused by how hard he was trying to keep it together. You knew what this was about—he’d been like this for a while now, ever since the tension between you two started to build. He didn’t know about Spooky, and part of you wondered if that’s why he was always watching you, waiting for a moment to step in. You could see it in his eyes, that quiet yearning he tried to hide. But this was Cesar, and he wasn’t going to make the first move. Not with all the history hanging over his head.

You bit back a smile, watching him squirm a little more, enjoying how flustered he was. “Well, whatever you’re thinking about, don’t overthink it too much. You’ll drive yourself crazy,” you said, your tone playful, but there was a weight behind your words. You weren’t ready to let him in on your secret, not yet.

There was something in the way Cesar looked at you, something you’d noticed since you got jumped in, but never called out. It was like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words. You weren’t blind; you knew Cesar had feelings for you, had caught the way he stared a little too long, how he got flustered when you teased him. But there was a problem—a big one.

The streets weren’t a place for soft feelings. There were rules, unspoken ones, and messing around with someone else’s girl was a quick way to cause problems—big ones. You hadn’t told anyone about your relationship yet because, well, sometimes keeping things under wraps was safer. But Cesar was making it hard. Real hard.

Cesar shifted awkwardly, his foot scuffing at the dirt as he trailed off. “I was just, uh…” His voice dropped a little, barely audible over the street noise. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. You know, sometime. Just us.”

You felt your chest tighten slightly, catching the nervous energy coming off him. His words hung in the air between you, heavy with all the things he wasn’t saying. César was younger than most in the crew, but he had heart. He was smart, loyal, always there when things went sideways. You had a soft spot for him, sure, but this… this was complicated. There was no denying that the kid had feelings for you—he’d made it pretty clear in his own awkward, quiet way—but things weren’t that simple.

Cesar’s cheeks flushed just a little, and he quickly stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to hide the nerves that were so obvious in his body language. “I mean… nothing serious. Just thought we could, I don’t know, talk. Get to know each other more.”

His voice wavered slightly, betraying the casual tone he was aiming for. There it was—that awkward, hopeful tone that always tugged at your heart a little, even if you weren’t about to admit it. Cesar wasn’t smooth, not like some of the other guys in the crew, and that innocence made his feelings for you all the more obvious.

You sighed inwardly, knowing this was a delicate situation. Cesar wasn’t just any guy—he was part of the crew, and messing with his emotions could cause a ripple effect. But beyond that, he was Oscar’s little brother. That added a whole different layer of complication. You were already navigating enough as it was, trying to keep your relationship with Spooky under wraps. The last thing you needed was César catching feelings for you.

But the way he looked at you, with that quiet, intense gaze, like you were the only thing that mattered in that moment—it made it harder to brush him off. He had that sincerity, that almost naïve sense of care that was rare in the life you led. Most people in the gang had walls built high, but Cesar? His were still only half-built, and part of you didn’t want to be the one to finish the job.

You pressed your lips together, glancing away for a moment to collect your thoughts. How do you tell a kid like Cesar that this wasn’t going to happen without crushing him? You didn’t want to hurt him, but at the same time, you had to be careful. The last thing you needed was word getting around that Spooky’s girl was flirting with his little brother. The fallout could be messy.

You finally looked back at him, a small, almost sympathetic smile on your lips. “Hang out, huh?” You kept your tone light, teasing just a little, though there was a trace of hesitation in your voice. “What kind of hangout are we talking?”

Cesar’s eyes flicked up to meet yours, and for a moment, the hope in them made your chest tighten. He wasn’t just talking about kicking it. You knew that. He knew that. But you also knew he wasn’t going to come right out and say it—not yet, at least. His feelings were written all over his face, though, and you could see him struggling to keep it cool, like he didn’t want to scare you off.

“I dunno,” he said, his voice softer now, almost shy. “Maybe just… hang. Talk. Get away from all this for a minute, you know?”

You could tell he was testing the waters, trying to gauge your reaction, and for a second, you almost wished things were different. In another life, maybe. But this wasn’t that life, and you couldn’t afford to let this go any further.

You sighed again, this time audibly, the weight of the situation pressing down on your shoulders. “Cesar,” you started, your voice gentle but firm, “you know we’re in deep with the Santos right now. I’m not sure it’s the best time for… whatever this is.”

His face fell just a little, the hope dimming in his eyes as he looked down at the ground. He shifted his feet, trying to play it off like it wasn’t a big deal, but you could see the hurt creeping in around the edges. “Yeah, I get it,” he muttered, forcing a small smile. “I was just thinking.. never mind.”

Before you could respond, you felt someone’s presence approaching behind you, the familiar swagger in his steps making you mutter a curse under your breath. Great timing.

“Yo, you ready to bounce or what?” a deep voice asked, cutting through the tension. You turned to see Oscar—Spooky—walking up, his usual unreadable expression in place. His eyes, however, lingered on you just a little longer than they probably should have, a subtle look passing between the two of you that no one else seemed to catch.

You felt Cesar’s eyes darting back and forth between the two of you, confusion and something like suspicion flickering in his gaze.

You cleared your throat, your casual tone betraying the tension coiled in your chest as you pushed off the car. “Yeah, I’m good. We done here?” Your words felt light, but the atmosphere had shifted. It was thick now, like the air before a storm—heavy, waiting for something to break.

Oscar gave a brief nod, his eyes flicking over to Cesar for a second, scanning the scene like he could sense the same shift you felt. “Yeah, we’re done.” After a moment’s hesitation, he added, his voice low but steady, “You need a ride?”

“Nah, I’m good. Thanks,” you replied, forcing a small smile. But there was no mistaking it—the air between the three of you had changed, heavy with unspoken things.

Cesar stood a few paces away, frowning as he glanced between you and Oscar. His brow furrowed like he was trying to put the pieces together, but something just didn’t quite fit. “You two, uh… you cool or something?” he asked, his voice uncertain, like he was testing the waters.

Oscar didn’t flinch. His gaze hardened, a subtle shift in his posture as he met Cesar’s eyes. The look was cool, calculating—his usual calmness, but there was an edge there, one that spoke volumes. “We’re cool, lil’ homie. Why?”

Cesar shifted his weight, swallowing hard as his confusion deepened. He tried to play it cool, but the uncertainty was clear in his voice. “No reason. Just… wondering.” His eyes darted between you and Oscar again, like he was chasing down a truth that was just out of reach.

You could feel the walls tightening. This wasn’t going to be easy. You weren’t one for games, not when it came to this. Not with Cesar. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt him or drag this out longer than it needed to be.

You exhaled, stepping closer to Cesar, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Look, Cesar. There’s something you don’t know.” You tried to keep it calm, to keep it light, but your words came out heavier than you’d meant.

His eyes locked on yours, confusion etched in his expression. “What do you mean?” He took a small step back, his gaze flicking between you and Oscar, his instinctive suspicion rising.

You glanced over at Oscar, who stood still, arms crossed, but his eyes—those sharp, yellow eyes—were fixed on you. He nodded ever so slightly, giving you that silent go-ahead. It was your call, and now was the time.

You swallowed, then let it out in one breath. “I’m with someone. I’ve been seeing someone for a while.”

Cesar blinked, his brow furrowing deeper. “Wait, what? Who?” His voice was a little higher now, his brain racing to process this new information.

Your gaze moved back to Oscar, who hadn’t budged, but the quiet intensity of his presence was there. You let the words come out softly, without hesitation. “Oscar.” You didn’t need to say more. It was obvious. But you said it anyway. “I’m with him.”

Cesar’s eyes widened, his expression frozen in a mix of disbelief and shock. His mouth moved, but no words came out at first. It was as if the world had shifted on its axis, and he was still trying to catch up. “Spooky? You’re with Spooky?”

You nodded, your voice soft, but firm. “Yeah. It’s been on the low for a minute. Didn’t want to make a thing out of it.” You glanced at Oscar again. His expression remained steady, but the look he gave you was filled with something softer now. There was a flicker of something that might’ve been pride, or understanding—maybe both.

Cesar stood there, stunned. His face shifted between emotions, confusion, surprise, hurt. You could see the cogs turning in his head, trying to piece this all together, and it made your stomach twist. You didn’t want to hurt him, but you couldn’t hide this anymore.

He shook his head, disoriented. “I didn’t know… I wouldn’t have—” His voice cracked slightly, the hurt more evident in his tone now. “I didn’t mean to—”

You quickly shook your head, stepping closer to him. “It’s alright, Cesar,” you said, your voice soft, trying to calm the hurt you could see in his eyes. “I get it. You didn’t know. But now you do.”

Cesar exhaled, running his hand through his hair, clearly trying to process everything. His gaze dropped for a second as he gathered himself. When he looked back at you, there was that tight jaw of his, the look of someone who was fighting to keep his cool. “Damn. I really didn’t see that coming,” he muttered, shaking his head, his voice low.

Oscar, who had been quiet until now, spoke with that calm but firm tone of his. “Ain’t nothing to worry about, lil’ homie. We cool.”

Cesar’s gaze flicked to Oscar, and you could tell there was a flicker of uncertainty there. He was still piecing it all together, and that was fine. He would come around. He was tough. But there was a slight tightening around his eyes, the disappointment too heavy to hide.

“Yeah. Yeah, we’re cool,” he muttered, his voice tight as he glanced at you one last time. Then, without another word, he turned and walked off, his steps heavy and deliberate, like the weight of the moment was still pressing down on him.

You watched him go, feeling a pang of guilt tug at your chest. It wasn’t like this had been easy for you either. But it was out now. And things would change, for better or worse.

Oscar’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you close, his body warmth a comfort in the sudden cold of the moment. His fingers tightened slightly around you as he leaned in, his voice low and steady. “You think he’ll be alright?”

You sighed, leaning into his side, letting yourself relax just a little bit. “He’s tough. He’ll figure it out.”

Oscar shrugged, but there was no doubt in his voice. “He’ll be fine. We cool.”

You let the silence settle around you for a moment, the weight of it still there. The guilt, the uncertainty. But you knew, deep down, that this was the life you had chosen—complicated, messy, and real. But at the end of the day, you were with the person you wanted to be with, no matter how complicated or difficult that might make things.

[10diamondz]

Silent Treatment

Summary: You gave him the silent treatment after he ditched a planned date for beetle fighting.

You stood at the edge of the pier, arms crossed, staring out at the sea with your back turned.

The wind rustled through your hair, but your thoughts were on the big boyfriend oni who was supposed to be standing right next to you.

Instead, he'd bailed... for a beetle fight. Again. "I’ll win this time, babe, promise! Then we can go on our date right after!" were his exact words that morning.

Yet here you were—alone. The sunset had started to turn the sky in shades of orange and pink, and there was still no sign of your boyfriend.

Suddenly, a familiar voice called out, all loud as always. "Heyyyy! There she is! My favorite girl in all of Inazuma!"

You didn’t turn around. Not even a glance.

You heard him approach, his footsteps heavy, practically stomping with excitement. "Yo, babe! Check it out—I got this huuuuge victory today! Oni Kabuto... unbeatable! You shoulda seen the crowd! They were goin' wild! I was like, 'Boom!' and then—"

...

Silence. No reaction from you. You simply shifted your weight to your other foot, eyes still fixed on the horizon.

Itto blinked, scratching the back of his head, his expression faltering just a bit. "Uh... babe?" He leaned down a little, trying to catch a glimpse of your face. "Y'know... I came as fast as I could! I was gonna win quick and come running over, but, uh... that beetle fight was intense! You know how it is, right? You understand!"

Still nothing. You didn’t even give him a 'hmph.'

Itto's face fell into a full-blown pout. "Aw, c'mon! You’re not mad, are ya? You’re totally mad. I can tell." He knelt down in front of you now, trying to meet your eyes.

"But babe, it was for the gang! You know the Arataki Gang’s gotta stay on top of the beetle fight scene! I thought you’d be proud of me!"

You kept your arms crossed, staring straight ahead.

Your lips pressed into a thin line. You had been looking forward to today, excited to spend some time together just the two of you. And then... beetles.

"I swear I didn’t mean to bail on our date! I really thought it’d be quick! Honest!" Itto shifted nervously, starting to sweat.

He had faced down monsters, rival gang members, even Kujou Sara herself—but the silent treatment from you? Yeah, that was a whole new level of terror. "Alright, alright!" He shot up to his feet, throwing his hands in the air dramatically. "I get it! I’m the worst boyfriend ever! I’ve failed you!" His voice cracked with exaggerated emotion.

"Punish me as you see fit!"

Still no response.

"Ahhh! This silence is killing me! You know I hate when you ignore me!" He fumbled, shifting from foot to foot.

"Please, just say somethin’—anything! Even if it’s to tell me I’m the biggest idiot in all of Inazuma!"

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you sighed softly. "You forgot about me. Again."

Itto froze. His eyes widened as your words finally broke the wall of silence. "What?! No way! I could never forget about you, babe!" He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"It’s just... sometimes I get a liiittle caught up in the heat of battle, ya know? Beetles, brawls, you name it—but I never forget about you. You’re... you're way more important than all of that!"

You raised an eyebrow, finally turning to look at him. "Oh? More important than beetles?"

"Wayyyy more important!" Itto nodded furiously, his eyes wide with sincerity. "I mean, come on! Oni Kabuto are cool and all, but they don’t even come close to how amazing you are!" He grinned, showing off his fangs as he clasped his hands together. "You're smart, you're beautiful, you make the best snacks... And you can beat me at games when you actually try!"

You bit your lip, trying not to smile. But he was so ridiculous, so earnest... it was hard to stay mad.

Itto noticed the slight twitch of your lips and gasped dramatically. "Wait—are you smiling?! Does that mean I’m forgiven?!" He pumped his fist in the air. "YES! The Arataki Itto charm works again!"

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh at his antics. "I didn’t say you’re completely off the hook, Itto."

"Aw man! So, uh... what do I gotta do to make it up to ya, huh?" His eyes sparkled with determination. "Whatever you want, name it! More dates? I’ll plan ‘em out this time, promise! Dinner on me? You want snacks? A full beetle collection?"

You shook your head, finally softening. "You really think a beetle collection is going to fix this?"

"...No?" He blinked innocently. "How about... we finish our date properly? Just the two of us. No beetles."

Itto’s grin stretched ear to ear. "You got it! No beetles, no gang, no distractions. Just you and me!"

He flexed his muscles, puffing out his chest. "The one and oni Arataki Itto is at your service!"

You smiled for real this time, taking his hand. "Good. Let’s go, big guy."