#you’re not thanking anyone for starting THAT

[navybrat817]

Back Off, He's Mine

Pairing: Husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You put an agent in her place after she flirts with Bucky.

Word Count: Over 2.5k

Warnings: Established relationship, violent threats (not against the reader or Bucky), protective vibes, catty behavior, possessive vibes, implied sexy times, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by an anon ask asking for Bucky's wife to stick up for him. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared at you from across the break room table, his pretty blue eyes not blinking as you looked back at him. The two of you were locked in a lengthy staring contest and you didn’t want to lose. But as the air in the room began to dry your eyes and he flashed you a beautiful smile, you couldn’t stop yourself from blinking. And the moment you did, he struck.

Snatching the last bit of the beloved pastry right from the middle of the table.

“Damn it,” you muttered, crossing your arms when he chuckled. “You cheated.”

“Oh, yeah?” he smirked, making a show of taking a slow bite. Your eyes followed his tongue licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together without thinking. The bastard made eating look sexy and he didn’t even take a full bite. He was taunting you. “How did I do that?”

“You cheated by existing.” You gestured to him, your smoking hot husband in his black t-shirt and tactical pants. To the person who made those clothes, you saluted them. “And you have serum in your veins, so I’m pretty sure you don’t have to blink as much as I do and that’s an unfair advantage.”

He chuckled again, graciously passing over the last small bite of the pastry. Your eyes lit up in thanks, popping it in your mouth with a moan. It was true love to share food like that. “I don’t think that’s how the serum works,” he teased. “And you’re a goddess, so isn’t that cheating, too?”

“Okay, but I’m not actually a goddess,” you countered, though he did make you feel like one.

His eyes softened, leaning across the table and crooking his finger. “Yeah, you are,” he whispered, kissing your lips once you met him halfway.

Before you could deepen the kiss, a shrill voice rang out in the breakroom. “Sergeant Barnes! There you are!”

Bucky’s cheek twitched as he settled back in his seat. The voice echoing in the room would’ve been enough to make anyone wince, but his enhanced hearing made it worse. He worked hard to block out noises so he’d be comfortable, and your eyes instantly narrowed at the person who brought him discomfort.

You recognized her after a moment, a pretty woman who would likely fall out of her top if she sneezed too hard. She hadn't worked there long, but she had her eye on Bucky from the start. She always flirted with him, tried to stand close to him and push her chest close, and he always dropped in the conversation that he was a married man. Apparently she didn’t get the hint that he wasn't interested. Either that or she was into taken men.

“Hi, agent,” Bucky politely said.

“Agent. Always so formal,” she giggled, dragging a chair over from another table and taking a seat without asking. “I’ve been looking all over for you, Barnes. You're a hard man to track down.”

Bubbly agents didn’t bother you in the slightest. You appreciated anyone who could stay upbeat in the line of work you dealt with. It wasn’t the enamored look in her eyes either that bothered you because you understood people wanting Bucky and you were secure in your relationship. No, what bothered you was that he had clearly been kissing his wife and she pointedly avoided looking at you after interrupting. That was just rude.

It also bothered you how uncomfortable Bucky looked when she moved her chair closer to him, his shoulders stiff and smile not reaching his eyes.

“Been spending some time with my wife,” he said proudly, reaching across the table to take your hand. You dipped your head down with a small smile, your heart still doing that funny flip like it had since the moment you met. He even managed to clear out the room so you two could be alone. “We were just finishing up.”

She didn’t spare you a glance as she set a hand on his metal arm. His cheek twitched again, squeezing your hand. It took a lot of effort for you to not knock her back from the table for touching him without his permission. “Excuse me,” you began, your tone even. “I don’t-”

“Do you think you could spar with me later?” she cut you off and either didn’t see or ignored your glare, leaning forward in her seat to make her chest stick out more. Bucky didn’t look. “I’ve been having trouble with a couple of moves and you’re so good at them,” she added, her eyes on him like she wanted to eat him up.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

“I don't think…” he stopped when her fingers trailed higher.

“Please, Sergeant?” she pouted.

Your eyes went back to your husband to get a read on him and make sure he was okay. He wasn't. His smile still didn't look right and his back was ramrod straight. Squeezing his hand seemed to ground him since he breathed a little easier, though your anger was simmering.

“I, um, don’t mind sparring if you really need the help,” Bucky began, gently pulling his arm away. “But you interrupted my time with my wife.”

Her smile faltered while yours widened. Bucky didn't like anyone cutting you off, whether that was your time together or interrupting you speaking. “What?” she asked.

“Hi there. Been sitting here the whole time.” You wiggled your fingers when she finally looked your way. “Excuse us for a second,” you said, avoiding her stare the way she avoided yours. “Bucky, do you think you can wait outside? This agent and I need to have a little chat.”

Your husband looked like he was trying not to laugh and you would take laughter over discomfort any day of the week. “Be nice if you can,” he teased, pressing a featherlight kiss to your hand. “I love you, baby,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, something unspoken passing between the two of you.

Defending each other was second nature, always would be.

Bucky didn’t immediately leave the room when he stood up. Instead he rounded the table so he could bend down and kiss your mouth, too. You smiled as it lingered, your heart skipping a beat. “Don’t keep me waiting out there long, Mrs. Barnes,” he whispered.

“I won't, Mr. Barnes,” you teased, tucking some of his hair behind his ear.

Straightening up, he gave a small nod to the agent for her sake. “Come find me later if you still want to talk about sparring. Maybe I can find someone for you.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” she smiled, a glimmer of hope in her eyes. That look wouldn’t last.

You waited until Bucky was gone to face the agent, who stopped smiling the second your husband was out of sight. Leaning back in your seat, you crossed your arms and asked point-blank, “You trying to fuck my husband?”

The wide-eyed expression was priceless when she realized you weren't asking as a joke. “What are you... I just asked him to spar,” she tried to brush it off.

“Please, don't insult my intelligence,” you said. It was beneath both of you to do so. “I get why you want him. Besides being one of the sexiest creatures to ever exist, he’s a good man. Polite, probably treats you with respect. More than most of the men around here.”

She shifted away from you and nodded. “He's a nice guy.”

“He is,” you agreed. They didn't make men like Bucky anymore. “And I’m not going to tell you to stop hitting on my husband, but I highly suggest that you back off. At the very least, don’t throw yourself at him right in front of me. It’s sad.”

“Why?” She had the nerve to smirk. “Worried I’ll steal him away?”

You smirked, too. She had balls and you respected that, but this wasn’t a battle she’d win. “Steal him away? You make it sound like he’s a toy and he isn’t. He’s a man, my man,” you said, holding up your hand so she could get a good look at your wedding ring. “And you are not a threat in the slightest. Our bond is much stronger than that.”

Her smirk went away fast, replaced by something sad. You almost felt sorry for her until she said, “Jealousy isn't a good look on you. It’s kind of… ugly.”

You scoffed. If she wanted to play, you’d play. “Jealous of what? You hitting on a married man who doesn't want you?” you asked, not feeling guilty in the slightest when her face fell. “I’m not telling you to back off because I'm jealous. I told you that because you’re only going to embarrass yourself if you keep trying and you’re going to make my husband more uncomfortable than he already is. I don’t like people making my husband uncomfortable.”

An unspoken threat hung in the air long enough that she swallowed. “And how exactly did I make him uncomfortable?”

“Besides you hitting on him, you touched him without making sure it was okay to do so,” you answered, letting a bit of venom seep into your tone. Bucky went years without autonomy and consent was important to you. He suffered enough and didn’t need to deal with things like this. “I’d hope as an agent you’d be able to pick up on subtle body language cues enough to know that he didn’t want you touching him.”

“And how do you know he doesn’t want me touching him? Are you a mind reader or something?” she sneered, flicking a nonexistent piece of flint from her shirt. “If he really didn't want me touching him, he would've said so. And guess what? He didn't say a word.”

You saw red, your hands curling into fists. For her to ignore the nonverbal cues… “I know my husband. I know Bucky. He doesn’t want you touching him nor does he want to start anything with you because he’s extremely faithful. He won’t throw away a loving, trusting marriage for a quick fuck or doomed affair,” you stated. She bristled, but tried to recover. “If you make a pass at him, he’ll reject you. He’ll do it as respectfully as he can because he’s a good guy, but he will reject you. That’s a promise.”

“Because he loves you so much. Jesus, what makes you so special?” she spat, surprising you both. But the longer you looked at her, the more she deflated under your stare. “I mean… He doesn’t say much to me, but when he does it’s always about you. ‘My wife this’ and ‘my wife that’ and he’s always so… proud.” She shook her head. “Do you know how lucky you are?”

You did feel a little sorry for her now. Crushes hurt, but better that she hurt now and heal than to keep pushing and hurt more later. “I’m not special. We just love each other, that’s all. And, trust me, I’m aware that I’m very lucky to have him. Someone who gets me and will fight for and beside me,” you said, a loving smile touching your lips. You hoped Bucky was listening outside the door. “There’s a guy out there waiting for you, but that guy isn’t Bucky. So don’t lower yourself by trying to go after someone who’s taken.”

She side-eyed you, crossing her arms over her ample chest. “And what if I don’t stop?” she asked.

You giggled humorously, all sympathy gone. The agent actually looked nervous at that sound and you were glad because you weren't going to play nice. “Well, if you don't back off, Bucky could make a complaint about you harassing him or at least request that you’re transferred. Maybe fired since you’re still in your probationary period,” you began, looking at your wedding band when she began to protest. “At the very least, I could have your schedule rearranged so you can spar with me. You see, Bucky taught me a few moves and if a bone or two breaks, well…”

It wasn't an empty threat either. Bucky loved fighting for you, but you could hold your own. It turned him on.

Her eyes darted to the door when you stood up and stretched. “Listen, you don't need to-”

“But do you know what I'm going to do for now?” you asked, cutting her off the way she cut you off. “I'm going to take my husband to one of the interrogation rooms and suck the soul out of his body through his incredible cock,” you smiled sweetly, taking pleasure in the sputtering sound she made. “And after he recovers, he’ll have the choice of bending me over the table and either eating or fucking my pussy. He’ll probably choose both. He’s pretty insatiable.”

She got to her feet, too, and you half expected to see smoke come out of her ears. “I don't need to hear–”

“What? Does hearing that Bucky is going to fuck me and not you make you uncomfortable?” you asked innocently before you got close to her. “Shove your tits in my husband's face again or touch him without his explicit consent, and I won't just make you uncomfortable. I’ll make your life a living hell.”

While you lost the staring contest to Bucky earlier, you very much won against this agent. She stood perfectly still and averted her gaze as you pushed your chair in. “Is that a threat?” she mumbled.

A cliche question, so why not give a cliche answer? “It’s a promise,” you smiled, heading to the door. “Oh, if he does decide to spar with you, I expect you to apologize and behave yourself. I’ll hear about it if you don't.”

Bucky leaned against the wall, waiting for you as you exited the room. He looked over the moon. “We’re going to one of the interrogation rooms, huh?”

You giggled, taking his hand as your cheeks warmed. “Of course, that's what you took from that.”

“How could I not?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Thanks, baby. I thought I dropped enough hints that she’d back off.”

“Nothing to thank me for,” you assured him. He deserved to be comfortable at work. If some guy kept hitting on you, he would've stepped in, too.

“You think she’ll back off now?”

“I think so, but you tell me if she doesn't,” you said. You’d keep an eye on her, too, just in case. And if she pushed again, you’d put her back in her place. Maybe you’d make her listen while Bucky fucked you. With his permission, of course. “So, which room should we go to?”

He chuckled, the sound a happy one in the hall. “Room B. We can be as loud as we want,” he replied, tugging you closer. “I’ll show you just how special you are to me.”

Heat filled your body, anticipating how good it would feel to have him fuck your throat and more. “My body is ready, Sergeant,” you teased, shrieking when he picked you up and ignoring the whistles from other agents that walked by.

They were used to the shenanigans of Mr. and Mrs. Barnes by now.

And you couldn't wait for more.

Just like we deserve a loving Bucky, he deserves love, too. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[ham1lton]

X MARKS THE SPOT!

pairings: retired f1 drivers x retired f1 legend!yn.

faceclaim: jessica alba.

summary: being the first-ever female f1 world champion was hard enough. writing a tell-all about it, including all the details of your beef with that former driver? let’s just say the track wasn’t the only place things got heated.

warnings: mentions of misogyny. like a lot. so if that is something that makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!! your comfort comes first <3

author’s note: ignore timeline issues!! this was all inspired by that one anon who said something about yn writing a tell-all. if you liked this, maybe send me an ask? :D

now part of a trilogy!

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by vogue, jimmyfallon and 2,837,018 others

yourinstagram: it was so fun talking to jimmyfallon about writing my memoir ‘lucky girl syndrome’! i talked about getting the call that i was being signed, getting name dropped in a kdot song (thank you for making me cool to my nephews!) and the legacy i want to leave behind. check it out!!!

view all 298,727 comments

user1: MOTHERRR

user2: omg i’ve already pre-ordered my copy!!

-> user3: i’ve reserved it at my local library 🫡

user4: i hope she spills all the tea. i wanna know exactly who the misogynist motherfuckers are.

user5: she’s the goat female driver idc!! first female championship winner!!

-> user9: during her time in mclaren, jenson was carrying her. but yeah let’s talk about that one rigged championship 😂

user6: she still looks so hot. my first celeb crush.

-> user7: i had pictures of her all over my wall. i think my mom still has them up 😓

user8: worst driver of all time. only there because she looked good in the race suit.

-> user11: if she wasn’t hot, no one would care about her driving.

user10: this was always going to happen when you allowed women into f1. ruined the sport. she was nothing but a distraction on the grid.

-> user12: she was incredible. she clawed her way to a championship when everyone doubted her. she proved that women can do anything. the only distraction are people like you.

user13: please please please tell me she says that her and jenson were a thing. i always used to ship them so bad. the photoshoot for british vogue was imprinted on my thirteen year old brain.

-> user14: ANOTHER JENSONYN SHIPPER!!! baitclaren was my fav mclaren era. y’all can have your twinkclaren!!

-> user15: remember when jenson shut down a misogynistic reporter who tried to imply that yn wasn’t a good driver?? that was his girl frfr!!

user16: i’m so proud of u yn. you’ve been through so much and i’m excited to support you.

*liked by yourinstagram.*

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

“SHE’S NOT THAT FAST — SHE JUST GETS LUCKY SOMETIMES. THAT’S ALL IT IS. RIGHT CAR — RIGHT TIME. LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.” — a senior mclaren engineer.

dedicated to everyone who ever rooted for me. thank you.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

EXCERPT FROM LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME.

by yn yln.

when i signed with mclaren in 2013, i thought i was living my dream.

i was the only female driver on the grid, paired with jenson button—a world champion, a household name, and, to some, a certified heartthrob. they already loved calling him “promiscuous” in the press, and suddenly there i was: the pretty young woman who happened to drive fast. to them, we weren’t drivers—we were a brand. two good-looking people in shiny cars. and that label stuck.

from the start, i wasn’t taken seriously. i’d show up to meetings and realize they’d given me the wrong time—jenson would already be there, halfway through strategising with the team. he always looked uncomfortable when i walked in late, knowing i wasn’t told the same things he was.

“you’re here now,” he’d say, smiling politely, trying to ease the tension. i liked him. he wasn’t the problem. he was respectful, and if anyone made an offhand comment about me, he’d interject with a joke to cut through the awkwardness. but even his kindness couldn’t fix what was fundamentally wrong.

my first podium was a moment i’d worked my entire life for. it was a race where i drove faster than jenson, faster than most of the grid. but the photo they posted of me on the team’s social media wasn’t of me crossing the finish line, or holding my trophy.

it was me in the garage, leaning over the car, my race suit unzipped halfway down. the caption didn’t even mention the podium. it was just… my body. i couldn’t stomach looking through the comments.

i’ll never forget calling my dad that night. he was furious. he asked me why i didn’t make a fuss. why i didn’t storm into the team’s office and demand better treatment. but what he didn’t understand was that it wasn’t that simple. you’re the only woman in a room full of men, and they’re already waiting for you to slip up. waiting for you to show too much emotion, to prove them right when they think women are too “dramatic” to handle the job.

so i kept my head down. i smiled at the cameras, laughed at the jokes, and drove my ass off every weekend. and every time i was faster than jenson, every time i outqualified him or finished ahead, they’d say, “she got lucky.” when he beat me, they’d say, “see? this is why she doesn’t belong here.” it was a game i couldn’t win.

being the first woman on the grid wasn’t just about being fast. it was about being everything they didn’t expect me to be: calm, collected, agreeable. i couldn’t afford to push back because i knew they’d use it against me. so i swallowed it all, every little slight, every dismissive comment, every missed opportunity. i thought if i just kept my head down and drove, eventually, i’d earn their respect.

but now, looking back, i realize… they were never going to respect me. not really. not as a driver. they respected what i did for their brand, for their image. they respected how well i played the part. but as a person, as an athlete? i was just another pretty face to them. nothing more. and that’s what hurt the most.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

r/books

Discussion Thread:

“Lucky Girl Syndrome” by YN YLN: Thoughts, Reactions, and the Drama It’s Stirred Up.

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u/checkeredpast: just finished lucky girl syndrome, and WOW. she did not hold back. calling out mclaren for the way they treated her, the “wrong meeting times” sabotage, and the completely inappropriate podium photo… i can’t believe this stuff actually happened.

u/fastlaneandfurious: the part where she talks about the team using her as a “walking brand strategy” instead of a driver broke my heart. like, they wanted her to be the face of the team but refused to actually treat her like a serious athlete.

u/f1fanfiction: let’s talk about the fact that she outsold literally every sports memoir in history. 2 million copies sold in the first week. yn doesn’t just break records on the track, apparently.

u/nosteeringallowed: her calling out the media for labeling her as “lucky” after she beat half the grid is ICONIC. “they didn’t call my male teammates lucky—they called them skilled.” like, yes queen, drag them.

u/ynsthegoat: what got me was the chapter about the infamous team dinner where they wouldn’t even let her speak during strategy talk. then she went out and out-qualified jenson the next day.

u/overqualifiedandundervalued: “they said i was lucky, but luck doesn’t drive faster laps or win races. luck didn’t make me the first woman to win a championship—it was skill, it was hard work, and it was me.” CHILLS. absolute chills.

u/gridgossip: is no one going to talk about the tea she spilled on that one driver? the “polite but condescending” comments she got from him while he constantly undermined her. we KNOW it’s about seb.

u/wheresthefinishline: @ u/gridgossip no no no, it’s def about fernando. she’s been shady about him for years, and the way she described the “overly competitive teammate who couldn’t handle being outpaced by a woman” fits him perfectly.

u/holygrailpodium: the inappropriate photo after her first podium makes me so mad every time. she’s standing there in tears, holding the trophy, and they choose to post a picture of her leaning over the car with her suit half-open?? disgusting.

u/gaslitandgridlocked: her dad being her biggest defender was such a beautiful part of the book, though. “why do you stay quiet when you’re the fastest in the room?” hit me right in the heart.

u/podiumqueen: not me crying over how she kept driving through all of this, knowing they didn’t want her there. like, the strength it must’ve taken to win races when her own team wasn’t even rooting for her.

u/championshipenergy: the way she calls out how different her career would’ve been if she were a man was SO POWERFUL. “they didn’t need me to be fast, they needed me to be pretty. they got both, and they still weren’t satisfied.”

u/mimosasontherace: i can’t stop thinking about the last chapter where she talks about winning her first championship and how no one in her team even hugged her when the cameras switched off. like, they couldn’t even fake happiness for her.

u/driversanddivas: this book isn’t just a memoir; it’s a reckoning. yn exposed everyone who doubted her and proved that no matter what they threw at her, she came out on top. lucky girl syndrome my ass—she EARNED that title.

u/lightsoutandread: imagine being on the grid right now, knowing you were one of the people she called out. the absolute awkwardness.

u/trophiesandtrauma: if you’re on the fence about reading this, DO IT. it’s not just about racing—it’s about breaking barriers, sexism, and resilience. honestly, it deserves all the success it’s getting.

u/checkeredpast: she’s already announced a limited series deal with a streaming platform. you KNOW it’s going to be messy when they dramatize the “wrong meeting times” scene.

u/bookishracer: “lucky girl syndrome” is officially my book of the year. yn didn’t just tell her story; she made sure no one could ever erase it again.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by f1stan, ynstan and 1,837,928 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: f1 legend and now best selling author, yn yln, took to harper’s bazaar to discuss writing and her career. however, her memoir went viral for more than its record breaking sales. yln mentioned that there was a certain driver that would be her biggest fan in public and then undermine her in public. it has been dubbed ‘x marks the spot’, with the hashtag gaining major traction on social media. what do you think ham1ltons? and who do you think the supposed driver could be?

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‘there was one driver who always seemed to go out of his way to remind me i didn’t belong. he wasn’t on my team, but his presence always lingered—sharp, dismissive, condescending. let’s call him x. in interviews, he’d say all the right things, calling me a “trailblazer” and claiming he respected what i brought to the sport. but in the paddock, it was another story. during press conferences, he’d interrupt me, throwing in some smug joke that made everyone laugh but left me feeling small. once, during a rain delay, he walked past my garage and casually remarked to my engineer, loud enough for me to hear, “well, at least she’ll look good sliding off the track.” and when i won my first race, beating him in the process, he didn’t say a word. no handshake, no congratulations—just a quick glance and he was gone. i’ll never know why he went out of his way to belittle me, but in the end, i didn’t care. that win wasn’t for him. it was for me.’

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view all 23,727 comments

user1: it’s definitely fernando. they’ve never liked each other, and he’s always been salty when anyone’s faster than him.

-> user2: nah, it can’t be fernando. he’s competitive, but he’s never outright disrespectful. i’m thinking nico.

-> user1: girl that’s the point 😭 x was never openly disrespectful.

user3: okay but what about lewis? we KNOW their relationship wasn’t always great. remember how tense they were in interviews back then?

-> user4: no way it’s lewis. he’s literally said she’s one of the most talented drivers he’s raced against.

-> user5: lewis can say nice things now, but what if he wasn’t like that back then? she didn’t say the guy stayed disrespectful. she also said x was nice in public, who knew what he was saying in private.

user6: everyone’s ignoring seb, but she’s shaded him before. what if it’s him?

-> user7: yn has ALWAYS defended seb. if anything, he was one of the few drivers who actually supported her. it’s not him.

user8: it has to be fernando. the whole paragraph is giving fernando energy, and you know it.

-> user9: nah, i still think it’s nico. remember when he threw shade at her in a press conference after she outqualified him?

user10: you’re all wrong. it’s michael. she’s talked about how intimidating he was to race against, and she never got along with him.

-> user11: yn literally called michael one of her idols. she’d never write about him like that.

user12: y’all are missing the obvious answer—kimi. he’s the only one who would say something that blunt and not care about the fallout.

-> user13: kimi didn’t even talk to her half the time lol. i can’t see him caring enough to belittle her.

user14: okay, what if it’s no one we’re expecting? maybe it’s some random mid-grid guy like grosjean or massa.

-> user15: yn wouldn’t waste a whole chapter on someone irrelevant. it has to be one of the big names. my money’s on fernando or nico.

-> user1: fernando for sure. yn’s always been lowkey bitter about him, and this just proves it.

-> user2: it’s not fernando!! why can’t you just accept that some drivers are cocky without it being him??

-> user3: okay but if it’s not fernando, who else would it be?? the smug comments SCREAM his vibe.

user5: we’re all arguing, but yn’s probably laughing at us right now. she KNEW we’d be doing this.

user16: yn ‘attention whore’ yln.

user17: at least we know it wasn’t my king jb 😻

user18: idk who tf yn is but this tea is so juicy 😭

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[setting: thanksgiving dinner, complete chaos. plates of food are half-eaten, wine glasses are full, and cousin jess is recording everything on tiktok. the family is deep into an argument about “x marks the spot,” using jess’s infamous powerpoint as reference.]

uncle bob: jess, i still don’t get why you made a whole powerpoint about this.

cousin jess: because the people need to know, uncle bob. yn’s memoir is the drama of the decade, and you’re welcome for organizing all the evidence.

aunt carol: honestly, it’s that fernando. slide four proves it. all the press conferences where he interrupted her? it’s right there.

aunt fiona: fernando wasn’t that bad. he even congratulated her in, like, 2017. i think it’s nico. slide eight, jess literally wrote “petty king energy” under his name.

uncle hamish: it’s not nico. you’re all overthinking this. i say it’s jenson. didn’t he once call her “intense” in an interview?

cousin matt: jenson literally defended her against the media every other week, hamish. you clearly didn’t listen to slide six.

grandpa: i still don’t understand why this yn person didn’t just punch the guy.

grandma: because she has class, unlike this family. pass the stuffing.

aunt bobbi: wait, what about lewis? slide ten said they were “friendly but complicated.” maybe he was fake-nice to her.

uncle craig: fake-nice? lewis was the only one who liked her, bobbi. slide nine has like five examples of him hyping her up in interviews.

cousin jess: uncle craig, you’re wrong. he was supportive, but there’s that one time he ignored her after she beat him in qualifying. it’s suspicious.

aunt carol: you think it’s suspicious? no way. lewis isn’t smug enough to be x.

uncle hamish: oh please, you’re all just picking names because they sound dramatic. if anything, it was sebastian.

aunt fiona: seb? absolutely not. slide seven shows he called her “one of the best drivers on the grid” multiple times.

uncle bob: that’s suspicious. who compliments people that much unless they’re guilty?

grandma: compliments aren’t guilt, bob. stop eating the cranberry sauce straight from the bowl and get a grip.

aunt carol: you’re all wrong. slide four, people! fernando cutting her off mid-sentence! the man’s guilty as sin.

grandpa: why does anyone care about this? it’s all rich people in fancy cars. sounds like nonsense.

cousin matt: rich people drama is the best kind of drama, grandpa.

aunt bobbi: jess, why is kimi’s slide just a picture of him smoking with “#needthat” written under it?

cousin jess: because kimi’s innocent. everyone knows he doesn’t care about anything but being my dream man.

uncle craig: so why isn’t yn on the slide about drivers who were universally liked?

cousin jess: because she wasn’t universally liked, uncle craig. she was fast, hot, and female in a male-dominated sport. they were all salty.

uncle bob: well, now they’re all posting about how much they respect her.

grandma: of course they are. it’s called covering their asses.

uncle hamish: if i were yn, i’d name names. all this mystery is just fueling conspiracy theories.

grandpa: or she could just leave it alone so we don’t have to argue about it at thanksgiving. what the hell even is f1? is that nascar?

uncle craig: formula 1, dad. jesus, keep up.

grandma (snapping): if someone doesn’t pass me the cranberry sauce right now, i’m gonna be the next x.

[jess pans the camera to her grandma glaring at the table, muttering under her breath as the family keeps arguing.]

cousin jess (whispering into her phone): y’all, my family is losing it over x marks the spot. happy thanksgiving.

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

liked by landopriv, ynupdates and 4,738,918 others.

ham1ltonshaderoom: an update on the ‘x marks the spot’ speculation. it started over who exactly is x, from f1 legend yn yln’s memoir and it is causing a stir! with former/current drivers taking to social media and journalists to prove their innocence. kimi räikkönen, when asked, said ‘yn deserved every win she got. people talked too much, but she let her driving do all the talking. always respected that about her.’

mick schumacher released a statement via instagram, with a montage of photos of him and his dad with the first female championship winner: ‘my dad always believed yn was one of the most talented drivers he’d ever seen. he admired her strength, her skill, and her ability to prove everyone wrong, time and time again. he spoke so highly of her and what she brought to the sport, and i know he’d be so proud to see her telling her story.’ when sebastian vettel made a rare appearance to the grid, he confirmed that he had bought a copy and thought that he was proud to watch yn ‘make history’.

now the sudden flurry of support is making fans of the sport wonder just who is genuine and who is covering his ass? what do you think ham1ltons?

view all 2,983 comments

user1: the way literally everyone is tripping over themselves to prove it’s not them is SO funny. one of you is lying, and we will figure it out.

-> user20: exactly!! the fact that EVERYONE is suddenly posting/talking feels so suspicious lmao. someone’s definitely guilty, and they’re trying to throw us off the scent.

user2: kimi’s response is so him. short, straight, and unbothered. it’s definitely not him.

-> user22: we’re all analysing this, but kimi’s out here just vibing like always. love that man.

user3: mick’s statement is beautiful and wholesome as always, but also low-key throwing shade at the others?? like, ‘my dad always supported her’ is giving ‘can’t say the same for you lot.’

-> user21: honestly, mick’s post is the only one that feels 100% genuine. his dad was always so supportive of yn.

user4: seb really said ‘i bought the book’ and dipped. man didn’t even deny anything outright. sus??

-> user5: nah, seb’s always been a yn fanboy. remember when he called her ‘the most talented driver on the grid’? it’s not him.

user6: the lewis and nico posts are giving major ‘damage control’ energy. both of them trying WAY too hard to sound supportive.

-> user7: facts. lewis called her a ‘champion’ like we wouldn’t notice how cold things were between them back in the day.

-> user17: tbh, i don’t think it’s lewis. yn has said before that he was always encouraging her, and they’ve stayed friendly.

user8: fernando’s post feels so rehearsed. like, when has he ever gushed over yn like that before??

user9: low-key think it’s nico. man was so salty about literally everything back then, and the ‘petty king’ vibes match the memoir perfectly.

-> user10: yesss, especially the part where she said he didn’t congratulate her after her first win. sounds EXACTLY like something nico would do.

user11: not enough people are talking about jenson. just because he was her teammate doesn’t mean he’s innocent. the whole ‘answer my texts’ thing was cute, but he’s a smooth talker.

-> user12: nah, yn always spoke highly of jenson. he had her back when mclaren was treating her like a sex toy. i’m ruling him out.

user13: so we’re all just ignoring that fernando spent YEARS shading her in press conferences? india ‘13 is permanently engraved in my brain.

-> user18: can’t lie, if it’s fernando, i’ll be disappointed but not surprised. his 2013 energy was… a lot.

user14: honestly, they’re all acting sketchy. the sudden love bomb of support is too much. one of you is x and we will find out.

user15: plot twist: what if x isn’t even one of the obvious names? imagine it’s someone random like felipe massa lmao.

-> user16: watch it not even be one of the main suspects and we’ve been dragging the wrong guy this whole time 💀

user18: it’s giving ‘we need to get ahead of the narrative’ vibes, and i’m here for the chaos.

-> user19: everyone’s pr team is in OVERDRIVE rn lmfaoooo

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @aliciaablueprint @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────

[wrrdbrrd]

Secret Agents of the 60s

It is the 1960s! You must locate the supervillain’s lair, infiltrate it, and save the day!

PLAYERS: Choose your 1960s archetype, then describe your character:

Class | Speciality:

Spy | Deception

Artist | Celebrity

Activist | Persuasion

Engineer | Machinery

Psychedelic | Mind powers?

Crook | Breaking/Entering

Scenario:

GM: Roll 3d6 or invent your own:

Supervillain:

Crime syndicate

Politician

Industrialist

CIA agents

KGB agents

Mercenaries

In a [...] lair:

Volcano

Skyscraper

Watercraft

Tropical

Alpine

Spaceborne

Plans to:

Steal a nuclear bomb

Assassinate someone important

Rob all the banks

Start World War 3

Hold the world hostage

Steal secret documents

Challenges:

GM: Tell the player their target roll and the stakes if they fail.

Player: Roll 2d6:

Difficulty | Target

Trivial | 2-3

Moderate | 4-5

Remarkable | 6-8

Improbable | 9-10

Heroic | 11-12

Impossible | 13+

Add +1 to your roll if:

It involves your speciality

You’re attempting something really cool

You use an Advantage.

(These bonuses stack up to +3. Advantages can also make tasks easier.)

Want an Advantage? Name it. The GM defines how hard it is to get; maybe you also need another Advantage first. Advantages can include:

An implausible gadget

A defecting henchperson

Secret knowledge

You can use each Advantage only once.

Notes: Next year I'll learn how to do tables properly and avoid coming within hours of the deadline. Maybe. MS Word counts this as 199 words - just barely within the limit!

Special thanks to @prophecyforgotten and @rincewitch for peer-reviewing earlier drafts and providing invaluable ideas.

I'd like to flesh this concept out into a more complete game some day, but this was a great way to actually make something instead of endlessly going in circles thinking about it and never doing anything. I had a lot of fun and highly recommend this jam to anyone who hasn't done it.

It's OK to archive this RPG off-site for posterity.

200 Word RPGs 2024

Each November, some people try to write a novel. Others would prefer to do as little writing as possible. For those who wish to challenge their ability to not write, we offer this alternative: producing a complete, playable roleplaying game in two hundred words or fewer.

This is the submission thread for the 2024 event, running from November 1st, 2024 through November 30th, 2024. Submission guidelines can be found in this blog's pinned post, here.

[dreamscapeee222]

could you do reader trying to take care of sick! arcane characters??

A/n: This is cute :3

Vi

Vi rarely lets herself slow down, so admitting she’s sick feels like weakness to her. She brushes off your concern at first, claiming, “It’s just a headache. Nothing I can’t handle.” But her pale face and shaky hands betray her.

When she tries to leave the bed to “get some air,” you step in front of her, arms crossed. “Vi, sit down. Please.” It’s the “please” that gets her—she can hear the worry in your voice.

She sighs, flopping back onto the mattress dramatically. “Fine, but only because you look cuter when you’re bossy.”

You smile despite yourself, sitting beside her and brushing the damp strands of hair off her forehead. She leans into your touch, her walls cracking just enough to let you in.

When she finally starts to relax, her voice softens. “Thanks for putting up with me. I don’t deserve you.”

Jinx

Jinx is the worst patient. She whines, flails, and makes every symptom a catastrophe. “I’m dying! Tell my story!” she cries, throwing herself across your lap dramatically.

You press a cold compress to her forehead, rolling your eyes. “You’re not dying, Jinx. You have a fever.”

She groans loudly. “Same thing!” But when you stroke her hair or hum softly, she quiets, watching you with a mix of curiosity and contentment.

Later, when she thinks you’re not looking, she murmurs, “You’re better than any medicine.” It’s so soft, almost vulnerable, but it stays with you.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn is stubbornly professional even when sick. She insists on working through it, saying, “The city doesn’t rest, so neither can I.” But the slight tremor in her hands as she grips her badge makes you step in.

“Cait, you need rest. You’re not helping anyone like this.” Your words are firm but gentle, and she hesitates before finally sitting down.

When you brew her tea and settle in beside her, she lets out a soft sigh, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I suppose I can take one day off… if you’ll stay.”

Her gratitude is silent but clear in the way she presses a kiss to your temple.

Ekko

Ekko hates being idle, so being sick frustrates him more than anything. He tries to act like nothing’s wrong, but you catch him stumbling while tinkering with the Firelights' gear.

“You’re going to make yourself worse,” you scold, guiding him to sit down. He grumbles but doesn’t fight you, too exhausted to argue.

You hand him water and sit beside him, your arm brushing his. He glances at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Guess I owe you, huh?”

“You already do,” you tease, and he laughs, the sound light despite his fatigue.

Jayce

Jayce turns into an overgrown puppy when he’s sick—needy, whiny, and extra. He calls for you from the couch, voice pitiful. “Babe, I think I’m dying.”

You laugh, sitting beside him with a bowl of soup. “You’re not dying, Jayce. You have a cold.”

He pouts dramatically but takes the soup, making you promise to stay with him while he eats. Later, as he drifts off with his head on your lap, he mumbles, “You’re too good to me.”

You press a kiss to his forehead, your fingers threading through his hair. “Always.”

Viktor

Viktor tries to push through his illness like it’s a minor inconvenience, working tirelessly until you physically take his tools away.

“Enough,” you say firmly, guiding him to bed. He protests weakly but lets you lead him, his steps unsteady.

When you sit beside him, your hand gently brushing through his hair, he finally relaxes, his breathing evening out. “You’re relentless,” he murmurs, though there’s a smile in his voice.

“Someone has to be,” you reply, kissing his temple. His hand finds yours, holding it tightly as sleep overtakes him.

Mel

Mel rarely lets anyone see her vulnerable, so being sick feels like a betrayal of her carefully crafted image. But with you, she doesn’t have to pretend.

She sits gracefully even while ill, her back against a pile of pillows as you bring her tea. “You don’t have to fuss,” she says softly, though she takes the tea without protest.

Sitting beside her, you stroke her hand, feeling the tension melt away. “You deserve to be cared for too, Mel.”

She looks at you, her eyes softer than you’ve ever seen. “And you do it so well,” she whispers, leaning into your touch.

See pinned.

[jinxvex]

HIII!!! girl your sevika x reader bartender fic was so hot her talking them through it omg 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 if you take request could you do sevika x reader established relationship nsfw head canons or sfw head canons anything that make you comfy :333

♱ gf!sevika (established relationship) headcanons!! ♱

omg!! first request!! thank you anon, i'm so geeked rn omg 😆

i'll do both sfw & nsfw because i'm seated 4 both 🤭🤭...

cw: smutty shit, dirty talk, pet names, that shimmastrap, roughness, daddy kink (DON'T BE AFRAID IT'S NUN WEIRD), vulgar language, just plain smut OKAY?

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⁺‧₊˚

SFW:

♱ she loves taking care of you! she loves when you can’t reach for something and you have to ask her to get it for you (it’s canon that she’s tall asf). she definitely has a smirk on her face when you’re struggling to open something for a while and she comes over and opens it in on the first try… + trust, you wouldn’t even have to ask her to carry your bags/things because she does it unprovoked (ahhh!! 🫠).

♱ to stem off of that, she loves buying you shit with her poker money + providing you with anything you need. 

♱ you always catch her staring at you! it makes you so flustered that you always look away + she turns your chin towards her so that you’re looking into her eyes and goes “don’t be shy baby, it’s just me.” and “what? i can’t look at you?” with a cocky smile on her face (cuz why u playinggg LMAO). 

♱ loves to train with you and humble you by pinning you on the floor after your attempt to take her down. 

♱ calls you all kinds of sweet nicknames (even early on in the relationship, she doesn’t gaf.) “baby,” “babe,” “princess,” “angel,” “sweetheart,” “mama,” “doll,” “love,” “darling,” “beautiful,” everything you could possibly think of! 

♱ oh she’s not even looking at other women and she gets hella possessive/jealous if anyone looks your way as well (literally just wrote about this lol). 

♱ sevika is very protective of you in public and always has an arm resting on your shoulder and waist! (also so people know you’re hers).

♱ when you both go out to eat this woman always has to sit by you and rest her hand on your thigh because she’s literally OBSESSED with you. she would rest her hand on your thigh in the car as well! (she’s driving WBK). 

♱ she’s hesitant at first! but she eventually lets you craft her a skin and body care routine. she’s very set in her old ways and has the whole “use what works” attitude when it comes to skincare/shower routines. BUT! she does love watching you get excited when you talk about what ingredients in skincare will help with what.

♱ like i mentioned above, she’s more of a listener and prefers to listen to you talk.

♱ sevika feels SO guilty when she makes you upset. she will literally get down on her knees and look up at you, eyes asking, NO, BEGGING for forgiveness. “i'm sorry princess. forgive me, please?” 

♱ she loves doing arts and crafts with you IDC!! she may try and act like she hates it but she loves it deep down! she’s the same way when you ask to do her makeup. the only way she’ll tolerate you doing it is if you sit on her lap while you do while her hands rest on your waist/ass. (what if i said she would be feeling herself in the mirror after you’re done) 

♱ as much as she loves solitude, she gets more clingy as the days go by! every single day she falls deeper and deeper in love with you and would do anything if it meant making you happy. don’t get it twisted though, she hates rollercoasters/amusement parks full of people so if you wanted to go, go with some friends girl…

now... *mariah carey voice* it's timmmmee 😫😫😜

NSFW:

♱ to start strong, DARE I SAY, sevika has a thing for titles during sex. *ahem* daddy kink (don’t kill me!!). i headcanon she didn’t bring it up first though! you may or may not have let it slip out while she was fucking you hard into the mattress. a single “f-fuck daddy! right there!” and she’s pressing you deeper into the mattress as she slowly (but ROUGHLY) strokes her cock inside you. be prepared to repeat yourself when she asks, “huh? what did you say baby?” + “what did you just call me?”. she calls you a “dirty fuckin’ slut” for wanting to call her daddy (she loves it).

♱ also, be prepared for the “who’s your daddy?” jokes because she thinks they’re HILARIOUS + refers to herself as “daddy” in the third person.

♱ eating you out is her favorite pastime! + loves the way you taste and cannot get enough. 

♱ SHE 👏🏽 IS 👏🏽 AN 👏🏽 ASS 👏🏽 WOMAN. not to say she doesn’t love the rest of you but you’re always catching her staring at your ass and she is not ashamed! she will have that same “can’t look at my woman?” attitude. she will also come up behind you when you’re doing the dishes or laundry and will grope your ass and bury her head into your shoulder to inhale your scent. 

♱ a giver!! she prefers to give instead of receive because she’s giving dom!top but… who said she would refuse you giving her pleasure? never that. sevika loves it when you ask to touch her! she pushes your head down when you’re eating her out like she’s throatfucking you. “fuck baby, this mouth feels so fuckin’ good.” + “love this slutty fuckin’ mouth” 

♱ makes you suck the strap before you take it… nothing further��

♱ she loves seeing you in lingerie and tells you to give her a “show” (stripping your clothes until you’re in your lingerie and giving her a lil dance 😵). she’s all like “this all for me?” + “bend over.” when you show her your little outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination. 

♱ eye contact is important to her! she will force you to make eye contact with her as she’s fucking you and if you don’t…. “gonna stop if you don’t look at me dollface.” + “look at me when i fuck you.”

♱ the dirtiest dirty talker of all dirty talkers OMG. it’s insane how nasty she can get with you but it makes you so needy for her! ↓

♱ “fuuuck this pussy’s so good to me baby.”, “shits so fuckin’ wet, you’re dripping all over me.”, + “look how i’m stretching this fuckin’ pussy out”… and the list goes on.

♱ the dirty talk gets even more vulgar when you ask her to cum in you. breeding kink goes CRAY TO THE Z. ↓

♱ you’re all like, “yes! yes! c-cum in me, please daddy!” + she’s like, “gonna fill you up baby, gonna give you all this cum.” and “you gonna let me put a baby in you angel?”

♱ she LOVES it when you’re rough with her. scratch your nails down her back! pull her hair! mark up her neck!

♱ sevika does love soft sex as well. she is a softie at heart DO NOT FORGET! as much as she loves to degrade you and throw you around, she loves to worship your body and kiss you all over! she loves to praise and tell you how gorgeous you are. “you’re so beautiful baby, you know that?” + “you’re always so good for me, my good fuckin' girl."

hope you like anon!! thank you for the request! had fun writing this 😘

[sunniques]

— 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥

➺ PAIRING: kim mingyu x female reader

➺ GENRE: stepbrother au, smut

➺ SUMMARY: mingyu will do anything to make sure no man takes his place in his stepsister’s life.

➺ CW/TW: stepcest, yandere themes, stalking, violence, blood, manipulation, mentions of blackmail, jealousy, possessiveness, mingyu can lift reader, slight size kink, oral sex (f & m), 69, unprotected sex, riding, creampies, cockwarming

➺ WC: 7.7k

NOTE: don’t like don’t read. as always, thank you to my oomf @wonustars for beta reading <3

If anyone were to ask you about Kim Mingyu, you’d have nothing but nice things to say.

The large, puppy-like man is the epitome of kindness and happiness. Despite his tall stature and modelesque looks, he’s pure-hearted and a little naive. It’s why you’re so endeared with him. No one in this world is more lovable than your foolishly kind stepbrother.

“Are you gonna need a ride today?”

You look up to see Mingyu leaning against the doorframe, watching you with a small smile on his face. Your heart jumps, still not fully used to how handsome he is. The loud thrum of your heart is easily ignored when you remind yourself that you can’t do anything except acknowledge your stepbrother’s good looks. In another world, you’d definitely allow yourself to have a crush on him, maybe even flirt with him a little.

“No,” you say as you unplug your phone from the charger. “Minghao is picking me up.”

Because you’re busy making sure you have all your things, you miss the look that crosses Mingyu’s face.

“Oh. I didn’t know you guys were talking again.”

Part of you feels a little embarrassed. Mingyu is very much aware of how things ended between you and Minghao. After all, it’s his broad shoulder you cried on after everything was said and done.

“It’s not like that,” you insist, feeling your face get hot from how intense his stare is. “We’re just friends now.”

Mingyu frowns but doesn’t say anything. It’s times like these you’re grateful that he’s such a nice guy. Anyone else would’ve pointed out that you and Minghao were never actually friends. You two just fucked around until he got sick of you. It was devastating for you in the worst way, but since he reached out to you under the pretense of wanting to be friends, you couldn’t say no. The last thing you want is to let him know how much he hurt you.

“Okay. Well if you need a ride later just text me.”

You’re grateful that Mingyu isn’t judgmental like you know the rest of your friends are going to be when they inevitably find out.

When you’re done with your last class of the day, you text Minghao to let him know you’re ready for him to come get you. A sickening feeling coils in the pit of your stomach when ten minutes go by without a response from him. You bite your lip as you contemplate sending him another text. Double texting wouldn’t be a problem if it wasn’t Minghao. Given the way you two left things, you don’t want to seem desperate. (Although you’re pretty sure it’s a little late for that.)

When another five minutes go by, you’re sure you’ve been stood up. You’re so angry that you feel like crying. The entire situation is so humiliating. To think that you thought giving him a second chance was a good idea. You feel so stupid, and you know that there’s no way you can ever tell anyone about what happened.

Well, there is one person. 

As soon as you call your stepbrother, he drops everything he’s doing to come get you. Because it’s Mingyu, you don’t feel as stupid and embarrassed when you get into his car. Not even when you start to ramble on about what an asshole Minghao is. Mingyu listens attentively, offering supportive comments here and there. There’s no judgment or pity when he talks, either. Just empathy that gives you enough comfort to make you feel like you’ve finally made it back to your safe place.

“Don’t even think about him,” Mingyu says as he grabs your hand. He brings it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of it before letting go. “He doesn’t deserve you or your anger.”

His words make you smile and feel warm inside. Aside from feeling a little embarrassed, you’re okay. Especially because your stepbrother makes it his mission to make sure you feel better.

You spend the rest of the day with Mingyu, and it’s not long before you completely forget about Minghao.

“I used to like you, you know.”

You choke on your drink, eyes going wide as you splutter embarrassingly. “What? Seokmin—!”

“I don’t any more!” He reassures you, looking around with slight panic. “And keep your voice down! I don’t need your guard dog acting up if any rumors start.”

You’re still too shocked by his confession to question who he’s talking about. You messily wipe your mouth and focus on getting Seokmin to explain because what he said doesn’t make any sense. Especially because of how things went down after you drunkenly admitted to liking him back freshman year.

“When was this?”

Seokmin looks ashamed. “A little after we met.”

There’s no way.

“You’re fucking sick. When I confessed to you that year, you friendzoned me.”

Seokmin has the decency to look sheepish and guilty. “It was a dick move, I admit it. But it’s not my fault!”

You raise a disbelieving eyebrow at him.

“Your stepbrother had made it clear that you were off limits, okay? I wasn’t about to cross him.”

You stare at him, dumbfounded. “Literally, what are you talking about?”

Seokmin blushes and looks around again. You’d laugh if his behavior wasn’t so odd. You’re not sure why he’s acting like he’s scared of something or someone, but you can’t focus on that too much. His bizarre story is throwing you off.

“Mingyu has always been very protective of you, and he’s actually really fucking scary when he wants to be.”

Silence. 

You two stare at each other until you burst out laughing. That’s all you can do because there’s no way your friend is being serious.

“Hey!” Seokmin slaps your arm to calm you down. “I’m being serious!”

“Mingyu? Kim Mingyu?” You say between breaths. “Your best friend—my stepbrother?”

“Yes, lovely Kim Mingyu who wouldn’t hurt a fly!” Seokmin scowls as you keep laughing.

Of all the reasons Seokmin could come up with for rejecting you while allegedly having feelings for you, you didn’t think he’d use your stepbrother. It was such a cheap cop-out. Mingyu has never cared about your unexciting love life. He’s always encouraged you to have fun and find a guy who deserves you. 

There’s no way what Seokmin’s implying is true. Even if it was, you’re sure he’s exaggerating. Your goofy stepbrother doesn’t have one mean, intimidating bone in his body. 

“Okay,” you wheeze. “Let’s say I believe you, which I don’t. What exactly did Mingyu say for you to reject me?”

Seokmin blinks and hesitates. Maybe it’s better if you don’t know all the details. “He just… advised me to not play with your feelings if I wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

You roll your eyes. Instead of bringing up the fact that he freely dated around after turning down your confession, you choose to steer the conversation in a different direction. There’s no need to keep rubbing salt in an old wound, anyway.

“Whatever. You’re still sick,” you say. “Anyway, are you still going to Chan’s on Friday?”

“Are you?” Seokmin counters. “Minghao will be there.”

Your lip curls up in disgust. “Like I’m going to let that asshole stop me from having fun.”

“True. And actually, he might not even go. I think he’s still recovering.”

“Recovering? What do you mean?”

“You don’t know? Minghao got into a fight last week! He won’t say with who, but he got fucking wrecked.”

You’re shocked into silence. A fight? It’s pretty hard to believe since Minghao is a pretty passive guy. He rarely gets angry or upset. 

So many things are going through your mind at once that you can’t get any of your thoughts straight. Had it happened the day he stood you up? If it did, why didn’t he say anything?

“Poor guy looks like shit. I doubt he’ll be going anywhere for a while.”

You frown. Sure, Minghao isn’t your favorite person in the world, but that doesn’t mean you would wish something like that on him. You know you shouldn’t be worried about him, but part of you still is. 

“Oh my god,” you mumble with a frown, not really knowing what to say. “Poor him.”

“Poor who?”

Your head snaps up at the sound of a familiar voice. A smile lights up your face when you see your stepbrother approaching the table. 

“Minghao,” Seokmin says as his best friend sits beside you. “Remember I told you someone beat his ass?”

“Oh, yeah,” Mingyu says with a frown as he slings his beefy arm over your shoulders. “Poor guy. I hope he gets better soon.”

You lean into your stepbrother, chest warming at the worried frown on Mingyu’s face. His kind heart is so admirable. Despite Minghao being a certified piece of shit, he still has the empathy to feel bad for the guy. It reminds you of how Mingyu is someone who’s a way better person than you, and you can’t resent him for it.

“Don’t worry, love. Minghao will be okay.” Mingyu says as he squeezes you into his side.

Like always, your stepbrother knows what you’re feeling without you telling him. It’s hard to stop the affection you feel from deepening when he always makes sure to comfort you first. His thumb gently caresses your shoulder absentmindedly as he and Seokmin start to talk about their statistics class. Just knowing your stepbrother is so understanding of your complicated feelings makes you feel so much better, and it’s not long before the topic of what happened to Minghao is long forgotten.

Mingyu will never forget the first time he saw you.

It was at one of Seungcheol’s notorious frat parties. Back then, he hadn’t been too into the party scene. Honestly, he’d gone out of pressure and boredom more than anything. One day he’ll have to thank his older friend for being the reason he saw you.

Unlike Mingyu, you were letting loose and having fun. He can’t forget how beautiful you looked while taking shots and laughing without a care in the world. Something inside him switched that night, and instead of being scared of the unfamiliar feeling, Mingyu quickly embraced it.

The feeling pushed him into watching you all night. To this day, Seungcheol thinks his friend had as much fun as everyone else. Which he had, just a different kind of fun.

At the end of the night, Mingyu secretly followed you as you stumbled your way back to your dorm. It’s not like you went home alone, but he had to make sure you were safe. (He also was curious to know if you lived on or off campus.)

Finding out your schedule wasn’t hard. As an attractive man, it’s always been easy for Mingyu to get what he wants. One charming smile and a little harmless flirting had him securing a paper with all your classes on it within minutes. Everything was too easy after that, and Mingyu couldn’t feel anything like guilt or shame as he went to go find you.

For weeks, he watched you from afar. Despite knowing he was most people’s type, Mingyu was still nervous about talking to you. He wanted everything to be perfect. Setting up a meet-cute was hard work, which meant calculating the time and place took a tremendous amount of effort. Honestly, he did start to get a little impatient when watching you no longer felt like enough for him. Mingyu was itching to know you and everything about you. To have you all for himself.

Luckily for him, swooping in when you almost got hit by a football was the perfect opportunity to worm his way into your life. Mingyu played the perfect part of a knight in shining armor, one that was undeniably kind and empathetic. Exactly what you wanted.

Mingyu still fantasizes about the way you looked at him that day. The lidded gaze you directed at him and the way you bit your lip was tantalizing in the sweetest way. It was easy for you to become friends after that.

There was an unexpected roadblock a month later when his mom told him she was marrying the man of her dreams. It’s both devastating and thrilling for him to find out that man is your father. You’ll be closer to him than ever, but now there’s this forbidden aspect that wedges itself between the attraction between you two.

Despite this, you two grow closer. All of your interests and hobbies line up almost perfectly, and the fixation Mingyu has on you steadily grows, slowly morphing into an undeniable obsession. Luckily for him, the new role he has in your life allows him to ward off any vultures that are lurking around you.

The loser in your calculus class was the easiest to get rid of. Once Mingyu caught him staring at you at a party, approaching him and telling him to stop staring at you like a fucking creep was enough for the guy to never look at you again. Then, there was your scummy coworker. Mingyu had to politely remind him that it wouldn’t be a good idea to keep bothering you unless he wanted his parents to find out he had dropped out of college and spent all of his financial aid partying.

Then there was his dear friend, Lee Seokmin.

“Y/N is single right?”

Mingyu looks up from his phone, jaw tightening as he fixes his dark stare on Seokmin. His friend is oblivious to the dangerous territory he’s venturing into, and there’s a moment where Mingyu contemplates whether or not to disregard the many years of friendship they have to impulsively act on his dark thoughts.

“Yeah,” Mingyu’s tone is clipped.

Seokmin hums thoughtfully. “Do you think she’d say yes if I asked her out?”

“I don’t think so,” Mingyu says through gritted teeth, still trying to be somewhat nice. “You’re not good at commitment, and that’s what she’s looking for.”

His best friend doesn’t seem to care for the advice he’s getting. “I can do whatever for someone I actually like.”

“You really like her?”

Either Seokmin doesn’t hear the venom in his friend’s voice, or he doesn’t care. Mingyu’s not sure which pisses him off more.

“Yeah,” Seokmin replies. “She’s smart and pretty. Exactly my type.”

Seokmin flinches when Mingyu slams his fist on the table. A dark look he never thought his friend was even capable of making is being directed at him, and he suddenly feels like he’s unknowingly walked into the lion’s den.

“Don’t you even think about going near her.” Mingyu spits, not caring that he sounds like an asshole. “I’ll cut your dick off if I find out you even hint at wanting anything more than a friendship with her.”

Seokmin laughs weakly. “You’re not serious—”

“Test me and find out.”

Mingyu smiles, but it’s a chilling smile. One that has Seokmin spluttering out an agreement before he realizes it.

After that, Mingyu knew he had to make sure everyone knew you were off limits.

The only dumbass that didn’t take Mingyu’s warnings seriously was Xu Minghao. The idiot had the audacity to laugh in his face when Mingyu suggested he find someone else to fuck around with. Unfortunately, Minghao didn’t have any dirt on him—not any that was serious enough for Mingyu to use as blackmail, anyway.

And so, Mingyu was forced to back off—for the time being.

His promiscuous ex had always been so eager to please that she didn’t hesitate to give in to Mingyu’s request to seduce and ensnare Minghao. It left you heartbroken and ready to receive your stepbrother’s comfort. Everything slowly went back to the way it was supposed to be. You were more dependent on Mingyu than ever, which made it easy for him to slowly erase that asshole from your life.

Until he finds out that scumbag was worming his way back into your life. 

Instead of attending his first class, Mingyu has his ex lure Minghao to her apartment building where he puts an end to that idiot once and for all.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Minghao groans and he coughs up a bit of blood.

Mingyu slams him into the wall, wounded hands moving to squeeze his throat and cut his words. “I warned you a long time ago to stay away from Y/N. This is the last time I’m going to tell you.”

When he does let go of Minghao, the idiot stops Mingyu from walking away. Even through large intakes of breath and spluttered coughs, he manages to piss Mingyu off some more. “You think Y/N will forgive you when she finds out what you did to me?”

Mingyu spins on his heels before landing a hard punch on Minghao’s nose. The loud crack echoes in the air, and it sounds almost dull compared to the yell that idiot lets out. Blood pours from his nose immediately, and it slips through the cracks of his fingers as he holds it in pain.

“You think she’ll believe you over me?” Mingyu’s laugh is dark and cruel. “Y/N knows I would never hurt anyone. Not even a piece of shit like you.”

Minghao’s heart rate spikes when he sees the way Mingyu smiles at him. A chill goes down his spine when he realizes just how depraved the man in front of him is. So for once, he does the smart thing and decides to cut off all contact with you. It pains him to stand you up and ghost you, but no pussy is worth this. Not even yours.

Mingyu sees you before you see him. You’re sitting at one of the many tables in the refectory, but you aren’t alone. Some guy is talking to you, grinning from ear to ear like some disgusting creep. Immediately, he recognizes the starry-eyed look in his gaze. A lot of guys get that same look when they see you. Even if you don’t notice it, Mingyu always does.

“Hey, man.” The stranger has the fucking audacity to smile at Mingyu as he sits across from you.

As much as Mingyu would like to tell the creep to fuck off, he can’t. Not while you’re around, at least. “Hey.”

“I’ll see you in class,” the guy says with an unattractive smile as he slowly stands. 

Mingyu feels like throwing up when you actually smile back.

“Bye.” You wave with a cute laugh.

The guy finally leaves, and it takes everything in Mingyu to behave normally. Dark thoughts loom in his head, ones that involve taking care of that idiot like he did to your ex situationship. He forces his depraved thoughts to the back of his mind to focus his attention on you.

“Who was that?” He wonders casually like he’s not losing his mind.

“That’s Josh. He’s in my communications class.” You say indifferently.

“Did he ask you out?” Mingyu wonders, trying to make the lilt in his voice sound teasing. And like the very thought isn’t killing him inside.

“Yeah,” you say. “He wants to hang out after my last class.”

Mingyu’s stomach turns. He smiles at you, so pained that you’re being so casual about some loser hitting on you. Especially in front of him. He’ll have to find out more about that asshole later and figure out exactly how he’s going to get rid of him, but right now there’s a more pressing matter.

“And?”

You give him a funny look. “And I told him no. We’re hanging out tonight, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.”

It’s a relief, and Mingyu hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

An unsavory feeling settles in Mingyu’s chest after that day. You slowly start to mention Josh more and more without knowing how insane it makes your stepbrother feel. It’s all so maddening because this Josh character is actually close to being a perfect guy. He’s been in a few relationships that have all ended up on good terms, and he doesn’t have any questionable behaviors. Mingyu almost considers fabricating something so he can get the loser away from you.

It’s not until a random Friday night that Mingyu decides he’s finally had enough. You were supposed to have been home hours ago, and you’re barely getting here. Accompanied by dumbass Josh, no less. He almost feels like throwing up as he watches you from the security camera. Mingyu clenches his jaw as anger seeps into his bones and clouds his mind.

Something inside him snaps, and he decides right then and there that you can’t keep doing this to him, and he can’t keep torturing himself like he has been.

“I had fun with you,” Joshua says sweetly.

Mingyu almost smashes his phone when you give him a hug and respond in a dulcet tone. “Me too.”

When he sees you waving at Josh with both of your hands in the cute way you always do, he’s quick to lock his phone and go downstairs to intercept you. 

It’s quiet when you enter the house. You didn’t see your stepmom’s car or your dad’s in the driveway so you know they aren’t home. Since it’s so quiet, you wonder if Mingyu is asleep or something.

“Where have you been?”

You jump with a quiet yelp, not expecting your stepbrother to be waiting for you at the bottom of the stairs. There’s a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before, and he almost looks threatening.

“Um,” you stutter, not sure what to make of the shift in his demeanor. “I was with—”

“With who?”

Dark eyes examine your face, demanding answers. Mingyu stalks toward you until he has you pressed against the front door. His large hands cage you against it as he leans close to your face.

“Tell me. I want to know why you’re so late when you promised me you’d be home sooner.”

You stare at him with wide eyes. “What? Gyu—”

“Let me guess,” he hums, sounding completely depraved. “You were with Josh.”

You swallow nervously, wondering why he sounds jealous. The thought sends a jolt of thrill down your spine. “Yeah. He just wanted—”

“Wanted what?” Mingyu’s glaring eyes get more intense. “To fuck you?”

You’re completely floored. That was the last thing you expected your sweet stepbrother to say, and for some reason it makes you feel dizzy in a thrilling way. You lick your lips, feeling your skin get hot as anxiousness mixes in with arousal. It’s been too long since you had sex, which is why you started to get wet from Mingyu’s uncharacteristic behavior. 

“N-No.” You say somewhat firmly. “We’re just friends.”

“Then why was he touching you?” He growls as one of the hands braced on the door moves to your neck.

Your cunt throbs at the action, and you feel like your mind is swimming from the sudden turn of events.

“It was a quick hug,” you say as he lightly squeezes your throat. “Something between friends.”

Mingyu raises an eyebrow, seemingly unbelieving of your words. More slick pools in your panties as the dark gaze stays locked in your face. You try not to make squeezing your thighs together obvious, but you haven’t felt so turned on in a long time.

“You’re sure?” Mingyu’s voice sounds entirely different as he squeezes your neck again.

“Yes,” you easily say. Deciding to act on instinct, you slowly smooth your hands over his chest and look at him through your eyelashes. “Promise, Gyu-Gyu.”

As always, he’s putty in your hands as soon as he hears that cute little nickname you gave him. Mingyu lets out a shaky breath as you go to cup his face. His eyes fall shut, and he lets himself lean on you and sandwich you between his body against the door. Your thumbs gently, caress his cheeks as you work to placate him. He loves every second of it, and just being pressed up against you has his cock twitching in his pants.

Fuck it.

Mingyu opens his eyes, pupils blown wide. “I’ll let it go this time, baby girl, but I better not catch him or any other guy touching what’s mine.”

He sounds completely insane and feral, but that only makes you want him more. It’s almost like you’re in a trace as you lock your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you. The heat in his eyes makes you feel like a goddess, and you wonder if it’s always been there.

“Say it,” Mingyu demands as his hands trail down your body to squeeze your ass. “Tell me you won’t let any asshole touch you ever again.”

You whine in your throat. “I won’t let anyone else touch me. I promise.”

Mingyu grins, little fangs poking out like the cat who ate the canary. “Good girl.”

With that, he easily lifts you and locks your legs around his hips. For a moment, his pretty eyes search yours as if he’s trying to search for any sign of hesitation. He seems satisfied with what he sees, and in the next second his lips catch yours in a wet, heated kiss.

You mewl into his mouth as you grind down on his very large bulge. It all feels so good, and you groan when Mingyu eases his tongue into your mouth. There’s a desperation behind his movements that make you more horny than you already are.

Everything else happens in a blur, and before you realize it, you end up sprawled out on Mingyu’s bed. He handles you with care, but there’s also a roughness to his movements. It makes you gush because that’s exactly what you like.

“Naughty baby. Gonna have to teach you a lesson.”

There’s that switch again, and it makes you squirm. You squish your thighs together, both anticipating and dreading what’s in store for you. Mingyu seems like a feral animal, one that’s close to acting on primal instincts only. The thought excites you.

“Why?” You pout, wondering how you can get him to just fuck you. “I’ve been a good girl.”

You’re such a little minx, and Mingyu has to turn away so you don’t see the fond smile that forms on his face. As usual, you’re too cute for your own good. It’s always so disarming, but all Mingyu has to do is remember what led to this for him to get himself back on track.

“Don’t be a brat,” he warns as he takes his shirt off.

Mingyu’s cock twitches when your pout accentuates. You still nod obediently, though. He kicks off his pants until he’s left in only his underwear. The way you hungrily eye his body (especially his large bulge) makes him feel like he’s in the clouds. All his plotting and waiting was really worth it.

“Show me your panties.”

You whimper quietly, not believing how filthy your stepbrother is. It makes you that much more eager to give him what he wants.

Slowly, you discard your jeans and spread your legs to show Mingyu how wet you are. His eyes are dark dark dark when he sees the material is almost see-through.

“Fuck,” he moans as he palms his throbbing cock. “Take them off.”

The fabric slips down your legs and dangles from your fingertips in the next second. Mingyu snatches them from your hands and presses the soiled fabric to his nose. His eyes stay on your pretty pussy as he carefully places your panties on his nightstand

“For later,” he clarifies with a filthy smirk.

You curse under your breath as more arousal drips out of you.

“You like that, baby girl?” Mingyu coos as his eyes stay on your dripping pussy. “Like that your stepbrother is going to use your cute little panties to jerk off?”

“Yes,” you admit through a whine. “Fuck, Gyu. I’m so wet right now.”

“I know,” his eyes flicker up to your face for a second. “But I still have to teach you a lesson.”

You pout at him again. “Even though I promised you already?”

His laugh is dark. “Have to make sure you keep it.”

“I’ll be good, I swear. Please, Gyu-Gyu?” You bat your eyelashes at him, and any resolve he has just breaks.

Mingyu slips out of his underwear, and he smirks when you gasp at the sight of his hard cock slapping against his abdomen. It’s so hard and leaking with so much precum. You’re eying it so hungrily that he decides to get the upper hand once again.

“I’ll give you what you want, baby. Just play with my cock first.”

“Really?” You ask eagerly, as Mingyu starts to stroke his huge cock.

“Yeah. Use that pretty little mouth on me, and I’ll give you anything you want.”

You jump to your knees in excitement. “Okay!”

“You want to gag on your stepbrother’s cock that bad?” Mingyu laughs as you eagerly nod and crawl toward him. “What a slut.”

“Can’t help it,” you say as you push on his shoulder to get him to lay back. “Want your pretty cock in my mouth.”

“Fuck,” Mingyu hisses as he leans against his pillows. His cock throbs at the fact that you’re making every one of his fantasies come true.

You press a gentle kiss to the tip, lovely eyes staring at Mingyu. A string of precum sticks to your lips, and you’re quick to lick it off with a salacious moan. You start to kitten lick his fat tip until his cock steadily leaks with sticky blobs of precum. The mewls and moans your stepbrother lets out only make you that much more eager to please. He’s really too hot for his own good.

With a grin, you wrap your lips around the head and slowly take him into your mouth. Slowly, you force the girthy organ down your throat. Your eyes start to glaze over, already addicted to the thick cock in your mouth. Mingyu thrusts his hips forward, sinking another inch into your hot mouth. The fat tip teases the back of your throat, making you gag on his dick. A loud moan tears from his throat when you take it like a good girl before pulling off with a wet cough.

“Messy girl,” Mingyu says with a groan.

You moan and start to lap at his cock again. Your tongue teases around his tip, and you can’t stop your thighs from clenching together. The arousal is practically leaking from your pussy, wetting your thighs obscenely.

“Aw, baby girl. Look at how fucking horny you are,” Mingyu coos. “Bet that little cunt’s soaked. Can’t wait to taste it. Gonna eat you out for hours after this.”

“Why not now?” You pout against his dick. “I suck dick better when I get eaten out.”

Mingyu tries not to blow his load at your filthy words. “Yeah? Want me to lick your little clit over and over and then suck it in my mouth until you’re begging to cum?”

Once again, Mingyu is putty in your hands when you blink up at him with your cute pout and tell him that’s exactly what you want.

And so, within seconds you’re laying on Mingyu’s hard abs, suckling on the head of his cock as you wiggle your ass, teasing Mingyu with your pussy. He groans, savoring the sight of your pretty pussy hovering over his face. Deciding that he deserves this treat more than anyone, he finally takes what you’re so willingly giving him.

You cry out when Mingyu licks across your swollen clit. He grabs your ass and spreads you open so he can lick into your pussy easier. Eagerly, he starts to lap up all the arousal from your drippy pussy. He loses himself in your taste, fucking his tongue deeper into your clenching hole. You’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets anyone else drink from his sweet oasis.

“Mingyu,” you slobber against his cock, grinding your cunt into his eager mouth. “Fuck. Your mouth feels so good.”

Mingyu groans as you start to suckle on the head of his cock before you fully sink your mouth on it again. Your hot little mouth works his cock, giving him the best head he’s ever gotten. You’re so messy and eager, kissing and licking all over his cock. The way you’re getting him all wet and messy almost makes him feel like you’re prepping him for your cunt. That turns him on more and has his muscular thighs clenching with restraint. 

Your stepbrother moans into your cunt as you suck his dick. The vibrations run through your fluttering walls as his tongue fucks deeper into your hole. Pleasure consumes you as Mingyu continues to slide his tongue in and out of your soaking pussy with a filthy schlick sound. All the sweet sounds you’re letting out are slightly muffled by Mingyu’s cock, and he loves every second of it.

Mingy sucks your pulsing clit into his mouth, making you whine around his cock and grind harder on his tongue. Your orgasm abruptly hits, and your cries of pleasure are gagged by Mingyu shooting his cum down your throat. You continue to suck eagerly as you rub your messy pussy all over your stepbrother’s face.

You pull off Mingyu’s big cock after you swallow all his cum, mewling in pleasure when he starts to press soft kisses on your pretty pussy. God, he’s unreal.

“Sweetest little pussy ever,” he moans reverently, not ready to separate from the heaven between your legs.

Your face gets hot, pussy clenching at his praise. The fact that someone as hot as Mingyu is so into you feels surreal, and it makes you more eager to get his big cock inside you.

Mingyu apparently thinks the same thing because he’s quick to lay you on the bed and get on top of you. His dark eyes drink in your naked body, licking his lips like he didn’t just finish eating you up. 

“You have no idea what you do to me.”

And you really don’t.

“Mingyu,” you whimper desperately when he starts to rub his dripping cock across your sensitive cunt. 

The sticky tip of his cock catches on your leaking hole and you moan loudly. God, you’ve never wanted anyone to fuck you so badly. He’s so hot, and you know he’s going to send you into another world of pleasure.

“Fuck, Gyu. Need you to fuck me. Please. I need it so bad,” you beg against his mouth as you start to kiss him repeatedly.

“Yeah?” He grins, blush spreading across his face at the affection you’re giving him. “Need your stepbrother to stuff you full of cock?”

“Yes.” You whimper shamelessly. “I need you to stuff my little pussy full. Want you to breed me.”

The groan he lets out is feral, and Mingyu buries his face in your neck so you won’t see the depravity your words cause. He kisses and nips at your neck as he grinds his cock on your messy pussy.

“Please, Gyu-Gyu.”

“Fuck. You’re so hot, baby girl,” Mingyu groans as he slips the head of his cock inside your needy hole. 

He pulls back to watch your face as he slowly sinks into your pussy. You’re so overwhelmed with arousal, and it’s evident. It makes the feral beast inside Mingyu yearn for more.

“I’m gonna ruin you for everyone else, baby. Gonna make sure the only cock you want is mine.”

With that, he bottoms out with a loud moan as you whine loudly. Your pupils are blown wide as your nails scratch against his broad chest. It turns you on to feel and see how big he is. He’s completely enveloping you in the best way. All that fills your mind is your stepbrother and his big cock.

“So fucking tight,” he hisses as he rolls his hips and fucks his cock deeper into your pulsing heat.

You wrap your legs around his waist to get him as deep as possible. Moans spill from your mouth as your hands smooth up his muscular chest and clasp around his neck. No one’s ever been so deep inside you, and you love it.

“Fuck me, Gyu.” You mewl, brain fuzzy from the stretch his dick provides. “Want you to fuck me dumb.”

“Shit,” Mingyu grunts with dark eyes. “My slutty baby wants her pussy creamed so fucking bad, huh?”

“Want it so bad, babe.” You whimper as you buck your hips.

Mingyu snaps when he hears the little pet name. Immediately, he starts to slam into your squelching cunt over and over again. You cry out loudly as juices leak from your stuffed hole. It takes him no time to find your g-spot, and he angles his cock to hit it every time he snaps his hips.

“Fu-Fuck, Gyu.” You whimper as you tug him closer to ghost your lips across his. “Gonna cum again. Gonna cum all over your big cock.”

“Do it, baby. God. Need to feel you cream on me,” he groans. 

You move your hips to meet his thrusts, eager to gush all over his dick and give him what he wants. Mingyu goes to kiss you deeply, moaning in satisfaction when your pulsing pussy clamps down on him again. His mind is swimming with pleasure as you cry out for him.

Mingyu’s heavy balls slap against your ass as he fucks deeper into your wet hole. You’re gushing so much that he knows you won’t be able to stop at just one orgasm. Which is exactly what he wants. He needs you addicted to his cock so you don’t ever consider going to someone else. Even if you do, he’ll get rid of them. Now that you’ve given him a taste, he’s going to make sure no one else has the chance to.

“God, Mingyu.” You whimper, toes curling in pleasure. “Just want you to keep me stuffed with your fat cock all night.”

Mingyu groans and presses a chaste kiss on your lips. He’ll give you anything you want. “Don’t worry, baby. That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Gonna breed you all night.”

Your stepbrother’s promise pushes you over the edge. Those filthy words make your legs tighten around him as your pussy clamps down on his dick. You moan out Mingyu’s name loudly as you cover his cock with your orgasm. Your legs tremble as you keep getting fucked through your mind-numbing pleasure.

“That’s it, baby. Cum all over your stepbrother’s cock. Fuck. So good for me.”

Mingyu’s thrusts get rougher as he pistons his cock deeper into your pulsing cunt. There’s no hotter sight than you cumming all over his cock. The pretty face you make is something that he’ll never forget, and that’s all he needs to reach his own climax. Mingyu buries his cock to the hilt and spills all his hot, sticky cum inside you with a loud moan of your name. He keeps fucking his cock into your hot cunt, stuffing it full of cum. 

“Take it like a good girl,” he pants, eyes shut tightly as he keeps fucking his aching cock inside you. “Take every fucking drop, baby girl.”

You move your hands to cling to his hair, grinding your sloppy pussy to get his cum deeper inside. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he creams your pussy.

“Gyu,” you whimper. “You came so much—fuck. Feels so hot inside.”

Mingyu groans as he buries his face in your neck, cock pulsing at your words. “Shit, baby. Making me want to fuck you all over again.”

You hum, deciding that you won’t be leaving his bed anytime soon. “It’s my turn.”

Mingyu grunts in surprise when you push him off and make him lean against the headboard. Immediately, you go to straddle him before smashing your lips together. He hungrily kisses you back, big hands gripping your ass to grind your messy cunt onto his hot cock. 

“So hot,” you gasp in between kisses. “You’re so fucking hot."

Mingyu giggles into your mouth. “Yeah?”

You hum in confirmation as you suck on his tongue. Again, you tangle one of your hands in his hair and pull his head back so you can kiss him deeper. The kiss you share is nasty, and it just makes you needy for him all over again.

You pull away and grab his cock. Mingyu bites his lip as you slowly sink down on it. He slumps back against the headboard, giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his thick cock. Your stepbrother smooths his thumbs across your hard nipples, smirking when you clench down on him.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” Mingyu growls as he punches your nipples. “My pretty baby.”

“Mingyu,” you sigh as your eyelashes flutter in pleasure.

You grind down on him, hips swivelling to fuck him just right. It doesn’t take long for him to become a mess under you. You smirk and start to bounce on him, loving how he’s practically writhing with pleasure. 

“I just wanna be inside you all the time,” he tugs on the sensitive buds until you’re arching into the motion. 

You duck your head down to sloppily kiss Mingyu again when there’s a knock on the door. Even to your surprise, you don’t stop your movements. It feels too good. You pull away, wondering when your parents came back home and how you didn’t hear them. Your pussy gets tighter, and Mingyu bites his bottom lip as he grabs your hips to keep you from moving.

“Mingyu? Are you still awake?” His mom calls through the door. 

At that moment, you two make a decision. A nasty, filthy one. Mingyu maintains eye contact with you and slowly fucks his cock up into your sloppy pussy. 

“Yeah. Do you need something?”

Your eyes roll back, cunt spasming around Mingyu’s dick. The lewd switching coming from your pussy seems louder now, but you don’t think to stop your stepbrother from bullying his cock in and out of your hole. 

“Have you seen Y/N? She’s not in her room.”

“She’s in here. We were watching a movie and she fell asleep,” Mingyu’s voice is smooth and even. It makes you start to bounce on him again. “I’ll take her to her room in a second.”

Your stepbrother’s dark eyes never leave yours as he starts to whisper. “You like that we might get caught?”

You nod again, barely able to hold back your moans.

“Okay good. I was worried since it’s getting late.”

Mingyu grinds his cock deep in your cunt and moves his thumb down to rub your clit roughly. You’re so wet that even with Mingyu's slow, deep thrusts, your pussy is squelching with every movement. 

“Dirty little slut. Imagine if she had opened the door,” Mingyu holds back a groan as your hot cunt clamps down on him again. “She would’ve seen how much you love your stepbrother’s cock.”

You bounce a little harder on his dick when you hear his filthy words. His thumb continues to flick and rub at your swollen clit. Your head tips back as your pussy gushes around his cock when your orgasm hits out of nowhere. 

Mingyu watches your throbbing pussy clamp down on him as he slowly thrusts into you. You feel his hands squeeze your hips hard enough to bruise. His slow thrusts are prolonging your orgasm, walls fluttering constantly around his dick. Mingyu’s thumb is still rubbing your clit, overstimulation making the muscles in your thighs jump. 

“God, baby.” Mingyu groans. “So fucking dirty, cumming all over my cock like that. Did thinking we were gonna get caught turn you on that much?”

“Yeah,” you mewl, too turned on to feel embarrassed.

Your thighs shake with the force of your second orgasm, pussy trying to milk Mingyu’s cock for more cum.

“You’re so nasty, baby girl.” Mingyu moans, raising to suck on your nipples. He smirks when your pulsing pussy clamps down on him again.

“My dirty little slut. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

He bites down on your nipple as he pumps his hips into your soaked cunt. You moan as his hot cum fills your greedy pussy, walls fluttering and urging him to spill more inside of you. Mingyu fucks it deeper into you until all you can do is whimper and mewl like the fucked out slut he turned you into.

After a few minutes, he relaxes back into the bed, pulling you down to lay on him. You close your eyes, completely sated and full. As you go to move, Mingyu holds you still before his cock can slip out of you.

“Stay where you are,” his voice is commanding. “Want to keep you plugged up.”

You shiver and relax against him. “Okay.”

Soon enough, your breathing evens out and you fall asleep. Mingyu places a gentle kiss on your hair, loving that you’ve fallen asleep with his cock and cum still inside you. He closes his eyes and squeezes you against him like he’s afraid you might disappear.

It took a long time to get here, but it was all worth it

From suggesting to his stepdad that you moving back home would be a good idea to making sure his mom did the same. That made it easier to listen in on the many calls you had with your friends and find out everything about your ideal man. It helped him mold himself into everything you wanted, which wasn’t too hard because Mingyu swears you were describing him.

Going into your room when you were out of the house also lets him know more about you. All of your interests and hobbies are there for him to learn and master. It also made it easier for him to get you gifts.

And finally, constantly borrowing your laptop to find out what type of porn you liked. It was all good stuff, things that he knew he was good at. Obviously, you liked to be degraded a little, but also worshipped. Mingyu licks his lips as he thinks about all the things he’s going to recreate with you. His cock throbs inside your warm pussy just thinking about it.

Everything is perfect, and Mingyu will do anything to keep it this way. He’ll continue to drive away any threats from your life because he’s the only one who can have you.

And if a day ever comes when you no longer want him, he’ll make sure no one else can have you either.

[idkdudethisisntpermanent]

Over the Limit - pt.v

jenna ortega x female reader

part i | part ii | part iii | part iv | part v

summary: An unlikely group forms—did someone say road trip?

word count: 10.8k

a/n: It's officially been a month since I've started posting Over the Limit on Tumblr! Thank you everyone for the overwhelming amount of support💚

————

How are weekends meant to look for the average 20-year old? Finally sleeping in after having a week of 8am classes? Scrambling to your job that funds all your stupid vices? Maybe it was stressing over picking the sluttiest outfit you can wear since you had a frat party and needed all eyes on you?

That realm of life seemed impossible for you. When you’re from Brimstone you don’t have the privilege of worrying about those things—no, instead on this fine Saturday morning you’re groggily rubbing your eyes open at 6am, while Hunter is panicking about the land lord who’s five seconds away from knocking the door down.

“Dude just answer,” you say annoyed, you could barely sleep last night and the last thing you needed was this antsy land lord playing drums on the door.

“I fucking can’t!” Hunter whisper yells, crouching down to your position on the floor where you had slept the night prior. “He’s gonna hand me an eviction notice when he sees me!”

And that is how your weekend begins when you’re from Brimstone.

After ignoring the loud knocks for some time, the land lord left grumbling angry curses at Hunter.

“So you’re backed up on two months of rent?” you ask, learning the information from the man that was once outside the door.

The older guy sighs with a nod, “Yeah, you know how it is. I haven’t been getting much races lately. I should’ve put a wager on you when you raced that Blond douche,” he says with a hollow chuckle.

You frown. You know exactly how it is. It’s not rare for you to walk into the garage and hear the whispers of unhappy Sinners about their pay cut.

Race clubs had their own economy. The quickest way for racers to make money was by paying an entry fee to compete, with the total pool going to the winning racer or crew. Crews like the Sinners also occasionally hosted parties, collecting entry fees to boost their earnings.

But gambling was the bread and butter—side bets, wagers, and deals made on the outcome of races. Anyone could place a bet, whether it was on their own crew or against them, but most of the money came from outsiders: third-party crews or devoted townspeople.

And then there was the fastest, most dangerous way to make cash.

“Didn’t you have a sponsor?” you asked.

Hunter's jaw tightened, and a shadow of bitterness crossed his face. "Yeah, I did. But things went south," he muttered. "Sponsors aren't what they used to be. They're too caught up in politics, or they want a cut so big it's not worth the payout."

You nodded, understanding that finding and keeping a sponsor was a double-edged sword. While they offered financial stability and access to better equipment, they came with strings attached—controlling interests, unwanted appearances, and expectations that sometimes choked a racer's freedom. You had to be in at least the top 5% of racer's to even be considered by a sponsor, and Hunter was just that good. But that lifestyle was clearly not worth it for him. You don't blame him, you've heard the stories of sponsor's having crazy asks for their prodigies.

"You'd be a sponsor's dream you know?" he suddenly says.

You quirk a brow up, not knowing how so.

"You're a great racer, you get along well with the rich, you're submissive—

"I am not submissive!"

————

After some more banter with Hunter you finally proceed with your morning and freshen up. As you're standing in front of the bathroom sink, wondering how you're going to brush your teeth, you noticed two toothbrushes in the holder.

Hunter lived alone.

Not knowing the origins of the second toothbrush and not willing to risk it, you opted to brush your teeth using your finger, and splashed some cool water on your face, trying to chase away the exhaustion and pull yourself together.

As you stared at your reflection in the mirror, a chill slid down your spine. Shock had a strange way of altering a person’s expression—jaw locked, eyes hardened, gaze steely. The revelations of last night were etched into your face like battle scars.

You were scared. Everything you heard last night was real—things that will directly impact you and your loved ones. It wasn’t just some joke, it was real life. And about your father...ever since the revelations of last night, it's been weighing on you—if you should tell your mom about the foul play in her husband’s death. How do you even tell someone that?

Your hands tightened around the edge of the sink, water dripping off your face and pooling on the counter. You thought about how it didn't shock you more to learn that your father’s death was no accident. Did that make you a terrible daughter? You thought of Anton, always armed, always prepared for whatever might come his way. Of course this life was brutal. Your father had been a founder, a leader—how could it not be dangerous?

But who wanted your father dead?

That was rather the question that gnawed at you, digging deeper with every passing second. Who could have wanted him gone, and why? Your fingers clenched the porcelain sink harder, the tremor in your hands matched by the anger coursing through you. And then the tears came undone, streaking down your face and mingling with the water already on the counter.

“Y/n?” Hunter’s voice cut through the fog of your mind, followed by a knock on the bathroom door. “Hey, you okay in there?”

You sucked in a shaky breath, fighting to steady yourself. Now was not the time nor place for breaking down.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you called out, forcing your voice into something resembling normalcy. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and swung the door open. Hunter stood there, a towel draped over his arm, eyes shadowed with worry.

He frowned as you brushed past him, taking the towel and pressing it to your damp face. The silence hung between you.

Hunter’s gaze followed you as you moved, his eyes full of questions. “Y/n, look” he started his voice soft, hesitant, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter you. "I don't know what's going on with you. But I know it's a lot. I already know that Jenna is a Viper and now this Ghost Smoke shit. You can talk to me about whatever you're dealing with if you want."

You paused, towel clenched in your fists, staring blankly at the wall. The weight of everything threatened to crush you, but you felt the warmth of Hunter’s hand as he reached out, resting it on your shoulder. That simple touch was enough to crack the fragile shield you’d tried so hard to maintain.

Tears welled up again, this time falling freely. Before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out, each one tugging at the raw wound inside you. “Hunter, I don't know what to do.”

He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a firm embrace. The warmth and steadiness of him anchored you as you broke down, sobs shaking your frame.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his hand gently rubbing your back. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. You’re not alone.”

The floodgates opened, and you told him everything—how you met Jenna, her request to find dirt on Percy, your dad supposedly wanting out of the Sinners, and the revelation that Bullet and Apex weren’t just names, but legacies tied to betrayal and death. Hunter listened in silence, holding you tight, his own expression darkening with every word.

In that moment, the fear and uncertainty didn’t vanish, but they felt a little more bearable. You had someone who knew, someone who would stand by you.

————

You and Hunter sat side by side on his worn couch, the late morning sun casting a soft light through the window. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable now; it was a shared reprieve after an outpouring of truths.

Hunter leaned back, one arm resting along the back of the couch, the other in the bag of chips he pulled out for you two. Your breakfast. He let out a breath, shaking his head slowly. “So, Jenna came to you with this whole thing about Percy and the Ghost Smoke operation, and you just… jumped in? Talk about submissive.”

You punch his shoulder lightly, and managed a small smile, the relief of finally sharing the truth giving your chest room to breathe. “I didn’t think it would spiral like this,” you admitted. “It was supposed to be simple—find out what Percy was up to, help Jenna. But now, with what we know...”

Hunter’s eyes darkened as he nodded. “It’s more than just racing politics. It’s deeper, more dangerous.” He glanced at you, concern still etched into his features. “And you’re sure Anton has no idea you’re involved?”

The question hung heavy between you, but you felt more grounded now. You nodded. “For now, he doesn’t. But I don’t know how long that will last.”

A sudden thought crossed your mind, and you straightened. “Do you think Mikey knows Jenna is with the Vipers?”

Hunter shrugged, "She give you any reason to think that?"

"She was just... observant man. The other day—when we went on the drive. She remembered the Aston from the footage she saw of me and Jenna. Said something about how it was the car I rolled in with 'my girl' in."

Hunter’s smirk returned, and he nudged you again, playfulness edging out the tension. “Maybe she’s paying close attention because she’s totally into you.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered. “I’m being serious, Hunter.”

“Alright, alright,” Hunter said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “But on that note... we need to talk about the Aston.”

You frowned, a hint of confusion crossing your face. “What about it?”

Hunter leaned forward, the playful glint in his eyes replaced by seriousness. “Think about it. We crashed that meeting last night and got caught snooping around. The only lead they have on us is the car. They know we escaped in the AM. If they’re looking for anything, it’ll be that.”

Fuck he was right.

"I say we demolish it. Scrap it for parts or something."

"—no!" you exclaim interrupting his thought. "I'll find a place to have it stashed. Don't worry."

The older guy squinted his eyes in confusion. You were a mechanic, you never got attached to your cars. You knew better than anyone that cars come and go. Yet you couldn't let go of this one.

————

Being a mechanic had its perks, and one of the best was the network of wealthy clientele you’d built over the years. If someone had enough money to buy a custom-built, fully modded car from you, chances were they also had plenty of land—land that could discreetly store a car like yours. Now, you just had to hope their generosity matched the size of their bank accounts.

You stepped out onto the balcony as you scroll through your phone, siffling through your contacts.

"Hmm, maybe John might help me out," you mummer to yourself pressing call.

John was one of your more calm clients. He was the proud new owner of a 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1. You’d delivered the car just over a month ago—the same night Anton nearly gave you a heart attack by pulling a mock robbery, complete with a gun pointed at you. You shook the memory from your mind, focusing instead on the call as it began to ring.

You first engaged with some small talk before you asked him for help. For all you knew he was a sponsor involved in some shady shit, maybe even involved in Ghost Smoke. Is this what paranoia is?

"I hope there's no complaints about the Mustang," you laugh lightly.

"No complaints Y/n."

"Amazing...so I actually need a favour," you said, leaning on the balcony railing. “I’ve got a car I need to tuck away for a while. Somewhere discreet. Think you could help?”

There was a brief pause, then a hum of consideration. “Hmm, yeah, I’ve got a lake house not too far from here. You can stash it there. No one will bother it.”

“Appreciate it. I’ll swing by later today.”

“Anytime kid,” he said before the call ended.

You exhaled, relief washing over you. One less problem to worry about—for now.

————

After letting Hunter know you’d secured a spot for the car, you set out for the address John had texted. The drive felt almost reflective, the Aston Martin humming beneath you like it understood the significance of this moment. Arriving at the secluded lake house, you carefully parked the car— the car that had genuinely started it all for you.

The Uber ride back to Hunter's was quiet, except for occasional small talk with the driver and faint chatter of the radio. You leaned your head against the window, letting the scenery blur as you reflected on everything that had unfolded.

Your phone buzzed, snapping you out of your thoughts. Hunter’s name flashed on the screen. You swiped to answer.

"Hey," you greeted.

"Hey, where are you?" Hunter's voice was calm but direct.

"In an Uber. On my way back to yours."

"Cool, change of plans. Head to Brenda’s Diner instead."

You frowned, the name clicking in your memory. "Brenda’s? That’s in the next city, like forty minutes away. Why there?"

"Just meet me. We’ll grab breakfast, Hunter said nonchalantly. "I’m almost there already,"

Your confusion deepened, your brows furrowing. "Why are you suddenly all the way out there? And why can’t we eat closer to your place?"

He sighed, "Jenna texted me, okay? She asked me to come here, so I’m here. So just come.”

You blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, what? Jenna texted you? Why does she even have your number?"

Hunter chuckled lightly, clearly amused by your confusion. "Relax, Y/n. Just come here. Who knows, maybe she’ll butter your biscuits or drizzle your pancakes."

"Excuse me—what?" you sputtered, but before you could say more, he hung up, leaving you staring at your phone in disbelief.

You slumped back in the seat, your mind racing. What in the actual hell is going on?

————

“Thank you sir," you say as you get out the Uber. You squint your eyes as you take in the red and yellow sign that said that read Brenda’s. Even the sun shined brighter in this town, from what you knew the town you were currently in—Countsville, wasn’t tainted with race crews and class differences. It was an average suburban town.

You couldn’t help but wonder why Jenna had called you here of all places. Did she have some secret life here? A hidden family? The absurd thought made you chuckle under your breath as you shook your head.

Pulling out your phone, you caught your reflection in the camera and quickly fixed your hair. A pang of nervousness hit you out of nowhere, making you hesitate. Why were you even nervous? Shaking off the feeling, you squared your shoulders and stepped inside.

“Ah, there she is! Y/n!” Hunter’s voice boomed, his arm shooting into the air to wave you over like you were lost in a crowd.

Your eyes darted to him, already settled comfortably in a booth, and then to the two women seated across from him—Jenna and the girl from last night. The one whose name you still didn’t know.

Your steps slowed as their hushed conversation came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, you slid into the booth next to Hunter.

Hunter leaned back in the booth, a smirk playing on his lips. “Took you long enough. Thought maybe you needed a treasure map to find this place.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpanned. Your gaze darted to Jenna, sitting across from you with her arms crossed and her focus firmly planted on the coffee in front of her. She didn’t even glance up when you sat down.

The girl sitting next to her, however—was the complete opposite. She was all smiles, her gaze bouncing between you and Jenna like she was waiting for something to happen between you both.

“Uh, hey. I don’t think we’ve been introduced?” you said, leaning forward slightly.

“I’m Aliyah,” she replied, her grin widening as she reached across the table, hand outstretched.

You took it, chuckling softly. “Nice to meet you.”

Aliyah’s smile turned teasing. “I’m Jenna’s sister.”

“Sister?!” Your jaw dropped as you let go of her hand, the word practically punching its way out of your mouth. Was she a Viper too? Did you get caught up in a family of snakes?

“Well it's nice to meet you,” you muttered, your attention flickering to Jenna. “So, uh, what’s this all about?” You doubt she invited you here to introduce you to her family.

Nothing. Not a word. Jenna’s silence was loud, deafening even, as she swirled her spoon in her coffee like you weren’t even there.

Hunter glanced between the two of you, clearly picking up on the tension. “Oh, this is fun. Should I just grab some popcorn, or…?”

You shot him a glare. “Not helping.”

“Not trying,” he quipped, leaning back with a lazy grin. “Anyway, why don’t you ask Jenna why we’re here? She’s the mastermind behind this little breakfast summit.”

You turned back to her, trying again. “Jenna?”

Still nothing.

“Seriously?” you asked, the irritation creeping into your voice. “You’re just going to ignore me?”

Jenna finally looked up, her expression cool and indifferent. “Oh, I’m sorry. Were you talking to me? Hard to tell when you’ve been acting like I don’t exist for the past few days.”

Hunter snorted, barely holding back a laugh. “She got you there.”

You sighed, sinking back into your seat. This wasn’t what you had anticipated. Sure, you figured she’d be upset about you ghosting her, but you thought you’d moved past that. Last night at the meeting, it felt like you’d reached some kind of unspoken understanding. Yet here she was now, stone-faced and silent, her cold shoulder speaking louder than words.

“Anyways, can we get some actual food in here before someone combusts?”

Aliyah snickered, clearly amused by the dynamic. “Sure, Hunter. Anything to save the day.” She turned her attention to you. “You have to try these pancakes, Brenda’s makes the best pancakes in town!"

Jenna muttered under her breath, just loud enough for you to catch. “Probably too busy to eat pancakes these days.”

Your jaw clenched, but you forced yourself to stay calm. This wasn’t the time or place to start something. Instead, you turned to Aliyah, doing your best to ignore Jenna’s jab. “Yeah, pancakes sound good. Let’s do it.”

Hunter raised his hand to flag down a server. “Pancakes for the table, and maybe a side of good vibes, yeah?”

————

For the past 20 minutes, the table had been quietly enjoying their pancakes, the clinking of cutlery filling the gaps in conversation. You caught Hunter sneaking a glance at your plate, his eyes drifting to the fluffy stack of pastries and then to the glass jar of maple syrup conveniently sitting right next to Jenna. With a sly grin, he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, clearly not letting his earlier joke die.

Aliyah finally broke the silence, her voice cutting through the calm. "Alright, since Jenna's committed to this whole silent act, I guess I’ll get us started. Last night was absolutely insane, and I think we seriously need to talk about everything we learned."

You frowned, glancing between the two girls across from you. “Wait, we? What do you mean, we?”

Aliyah looked at you like you’d asked a ridiculous question. “I mean we, as in all of us sitting here. Jenna, Hunter, me—you. We’re in this now.”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your brow furrowing deeper. “But… Jenna got her dirt on Percy, didn’t she? That’s what all this was supposed to be about. What more does she have to do with any of this?”

The words came out sharper than you intended, and for the first time since you’d arrived, Jenna’s eyes snapped up to meet yours. Her expression was calm but laced with a distinct edge—and some hurt?

“Are you serious?” she said, setting her coffee cup down with a soft clink. “You think I can just walk away now?”

“Why not?” you shot back. “You wanted proof of what Percy was doing, and you got it. That’s what you asked me to help you with. This whole Ghost Smoke thing—it’s not your problem.”

Jenna’s jaw tightened, and her lips pressed into a thin line. For a moment, it looked like she was biting back a retort. Aliyah, however, was quick to jump in.

“It’s everyone’s problem,” she said firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. “Ghost Smoke isn’t just some petty racing drama, Y/n. It’s destroying lives, and if the Vipers start pushing it harder, it’s going to get worse. Way worse.”

Hunter nodded, his usual laid-back demeanor replaced by something more serious. “Aliyah’s right. Last night wasn’t just some casual run-in with Percy’s people. That dealer wasn’t joking around, and you saw how he talked about the ‘boss.’ They’re planning something big.”

You leaned back in your seat, the weight of their words sinking in. But still, a part of you couldn’t shake the nagging thought that none of this should fall on Jenna—or you, for that matter.

"I don't want you two getting involved," you said, your tone flat and detached, though the tightness in your chest betrayed the storm underneath. You stared at your plate, pushing a piece of pancake around with your fork, avoiding their eyes.

Jenna scoffed, the sound sharp and cutting. “Are you serious right now? You don’t want us involved? After everything last night?”

Your gaze remained fixed downward, even as her frustration bristled against you. “It’s not your fight,” you muttered.

“Not my—?” Jenna’s voice rose, and you finally looked up to see her glaring at you, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “You don’t get to make that call! You think you can just decide when you want me around and when you don't? Newsflash—you’re already in deep, and so are we. There’s no undoing it now.”

You stayed silent, your jaw clenching as you tried to tamp down the surge of emotions threatening to surface. She wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t understand. Couldn’t understand.

You couldn’t drag them further into a world where people are pushing drugs—where people are capable of taking lives, just like they had taken your father’s and uncle's.

“It doesn’t matter why,” you said finally, your voice still low. “I just… I don’t want you involved. Either of you. That’s all.”

Jenna let out an incredulous laugh, throwing her hands in the air. “Unbelievable," she muttered, pushing back her chair abruptly and standing up, her frustration was palpable as she strode toward the diner’s exit.

You watched her leave, a pang of guilt twisting in your stomach. Hunter sighed beside you, leaning back in his seat.

“She’s not wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “You can’t do this alone. They were there last night. As much as you don't it to be true, they're now part of it.”

You didn’t respond, the weight of your own thoughts pressing down too heavily. Even though your intentions were to protect them, you couldn’t help but feel like you were only making things worse.

————

"If you grip the wheel any harder, it’s going to fuse with your hands," Aliyah quipped, casting a cautious glance at her sister.

Jenna shot her a sharp side-eye but said nothing, her focus fixed on the road ahead as they made their way home.

When it became clear that Jenna wasn’t going to return to the table, Aliyah had reluctantly followed her, leaving behind the unfinished business that had brought them all together in the first place.

“I don’t get it,” Aliyah said, breaking the silence. “I thought you two were fine last night. What’s with the sudden mood swing?”

Jenna’s grip on the wheel tightened even further, her knuckles white against the leather. She thought she had been fine too. Last night, things had felt different—maybe not perfect, but at least... manageable. But seeing you again today had stirred something raw and unexpected inside her.

It's not your problem, you said.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, her voice strained, as though admitting it hurt.

"Well I don't think your girl—sorry Y/n had any bad intentions. And if you really want to get involved in this Brimstone drama, then you have to make up with her eventually" Aliyah said, her tone gentler now.

Jenna let out a slow breath through her nose, her eyes never leaving the road. “It’s not that simple,” she murmured. “She ghosted me, Aliyah. And now she’s acting like she has to carry everything on her own, like I can’t handle myself. She wanted me around at first and now she decides I'm out? Oh I'm sorry I wasn't aware I was some fucking doll.”

“Or,” Aliyah countered, “maybe she’s terrified of something way bigger than you realize and doesn’t want to drag you—us into it.”

That struck a nerve. Jenna’s fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she mulled over her sister’s words. Was it fear? Was that why you were pushing her away? Her frustration softened slightly, but the knot in her chest didn’t loosen.

“Even if that’s true, she’s going about it the wrong way,” Jenna said after a moment. “I can’t help if she keeps shutting me out.”

Aliyah smirked faintly, crossing her arms. “So tell her that. You’re not the type to sit around and wait for someone else to fix things, right? Go confront her, like the fiery little Viper you are.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her sister’s teasing, but the words stayed with her. Maybe Aliyah was right—waiting wasn’t getting her anywhere, and the Brimstone situation wasn’t something she could handle without you. As much as she hated to admit it, you were already too entangled with one another for her to pretend otherwise.

She exhaled sharply, determination taking root. “Fine,” she said. “I’ll figure it out. But if she tries to pull some shit on me again, I won't hold back."

Aliyah grinned. “Now that’s the Jenna I know.”

Aliyah sighed in relief, glad her words had managed to ease her sister’s frustration. She could have kept up the teasing, sure, but she knew better. Deep down, she understood the root of Jenna’s anger—it wasn’t just about the danger or the argument at breakfast.

You weren’t wrong, after all. As far as Aliyah knew, the terms of whatever arrangement you and Jenna had were clear: you’d help her get what she needed, and once she had it, that was that. Simple, transactional, with no strings attached. But that simplicity seemed to be the very thing eating at Jenna now.

It wasn’t just frustration; it was hurt. Hurt because Jenna realized you seemed okay with it all ending there—with the two of you going your separate ways. And it wasn’t okay for her. Aliyah could see it—the sadness in Jenna’s eyes, the way her jaw clenched just a bit tighter than usual. It wasn’t about the Ghost Smoke or Brimstone drama anymore. It was about you.

Her sister wasn’t mad at you for walking away. She was sad that you didn’t seem to need her the way she found herself needing you. Sad that she no longer had a reason to stay connected.

Aliyah glanced at her sister, who was staring straight ahead, her grip on the wheel lighter now but still firm. Jenna didn’t want to admit it, not yet, but she was falling. And Aliyah could only hope she didn’t hit the ground too hard.

As Aliyah mindlessly glanced at her side view mirror, she noticed something.

"Uhm sis, do you think that car's been following us?"

Jenna raises her gaze up to the rear view mirror and she spotted the same car that had been trailing them for a while now—a solid black Escalade. But California traffic is like that, the typical resident wasn't going to lane change like a racer. "I'm sure it's nothing."

Still, to be safe, she made a series of deliberate right turns, one after the other, her pulse quickening with each corner. When she glanced at the mirror again, her fears solidified. The car was still there.

“It’s not nothing, Ali. They are following us,” Jenna said, her voice low but tinged with rising panic.

Aliyah stiffened beside her, her wide eyes darting to the side mirror. “W-what? Who do you think it is? Percy? Or those guys from yesterday?”

Jenna’s jaw clenched as she considered their options.

"Aliyah, call Y/n. Now," Jenna ordered, her voice steady, tossing her phone to her sister.

Aliyah fumbled with the phone, her fingers trembling. “What do I even say? ‘Hey, someone’s following us, want to join the party?’” she muttered nervously, trying to mask her fear.

Jenna shot her a sharp look. “Just tell her where we are and what’s happening. She’ll know what to do.”

Aliyah hesitated for a split second before dialing your number. “It's ringing.” Aliyah whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

"Jenna?"

The girl driving couldn't help but feel relief upon the sound of your voice, maybe it was because you both have faced many high stakes situations together and have always made it out on the other side. And in that moment, she felt certain you’d all make it through this one too.

“Okay, so, there’s this car, and it’s been following us for a while. Jenna took a bunch of right turns, and they’re still there. We don’t know who they are, but—”

“Aliyah,” you interrupted, your tone sharp with focus. “Put Jenna on.”

Aliyah quickly handed the phone over, and Jenna brought it to her ear without taking her eyes off the rearview mirror.

“Jenna, can you lose them?” you asked, voice soft, sensing her hesitation.

“I-I don’t know,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I’ve never done this before—what if I mess up? What if—”

“Jenna,” you interrupted gently, but firmly. “Take a deep breath. You’ve got this. But I need you to help me help you, okay? What’s up ahead?”

Jenna blinked, her focus flicking back to the road. “Uh, there’s a left turn coming up, and... a main road with a lot of traffic.”

“Alright, take the left. Make it clean.”

She nodded, her hands slightly shaky as she turned the wheel, the tires squealing lightly.

“Good,” you encouraged. “Now tell me what’s next. What do you see?”

“There’s an on-ramp to the highway coming up,” she said, her voice tight with nerves.

“Perfect. Get on the highway. Blend into traffic and use the cars to block their line of sight.”

“Okay,” she whispered, guiding the car toward the ramp as Aliyah sat rigid in her seat.

“You’re doing great, Jenna,” you said, keeping your voice calm and steady. “Just focus. You’re faster and smarter than them. Trust yourself.”

Jenna weaved into traffic, her grip still tight on the wheel. She glanced in the rearview mirror and tensed. “They’re still back there.”

“Stay calm,” you said. “What’s in your lane? Any big vehicles?”

“Yeah... there’s a semi up ahead,” she replied, her voice rising with nervous energy.

“Good. Get in its blind spot. Use it as cover. When you’re close to an exit, slip off. They’ll have to stay on the highway.”

She exhaled shakily, maneuvering into position as you guided her through. The tension in the car was thick, but she followed your instructions to the letter.

“Whenever you’re ready,” you said softly.

Jenna swerved off the highway, her heart pounding as the pursuing car sped past the exit.

“They’re gone,” she whispered, her voice thick with disbelief.

“You did it, Jenna,” you said, pride clear in your tone.

She let out a shaky laugh, her shoulders finally relaxing. “We did it,” she corrected, a small smile tugging at her lips.

The line went silent for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. Then, breaking the tension, your voice cut through with a sudden, determined tone.

“Jenna, listen. Can you go home, pack a bag for you and Aliyah, and meet me and Hunter at the mall we went to?”

Jenna’s brow furrowed in confusion. Moments ago, you were adamant about keeping her out of your life, and now you were asking her to pack a bag? She glanced at Aliyah, whose puzzled expression mirrored her own.

Aliyah shrugged dramatically, mouthing, “YOLO.”

“Why?” Jenna asked, her tone cautious.

“I’ll explain everything when we meet. Just trust me and do it, okay?”

Jenna hesitated, her mind racing with questions, but something in your voice made her pause. Finally, she exhaled. “Okay. We’ll meet you there.” And hung up the phone.

“Well, would you look at that—your little lover’s quarrel is finally wrapping up,” Aliyah teased, her grin wide.

“Shut up,” Jenna shot back, though the corners of her lips betrayed her as they curved into a reluctant smile. “I’m still mad at her.”

————

“You two are so confusing,” Hunter chuckled as he drove, his laughter filling the car. “Do you hate each other? Or are you about to jump each other’s bones? Seriously, I can never tell.”

You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you couldn’t help but think he had a point.

“So, care to explain why we’re all packing a bag and meeting up with them again?” Hunter asked, his tone laced with curiosity.

“We’re going on a weekend getaway,” you replied nonchalantly.

Hunter’s head whipped toward you, excitement lighting up his face. “No way! I’ve always wanted to do the Bahamas.”

You laughed. “Not the Bahamas, Hunt. Just somewhere a few hours away. After everything that went down—the meeting, the girls being followed—I think it’s smart for all of us to lay low for a few days. I’m not taking any chances.”

Hunter nodded dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like he was pledging allegiance. “Protecting your girl and your sister-in-law. I respect it.”

Ignoring his teasing, you redirected him. “Just drive us to the garage,” you said firmly. “I need to let Anton know we’ll be out of town for a few days. The last thing I need is him freaking out and sending a search party.”

————

As Hunter pulls into the garage, you take in the sight of the Sinners hard at work, each one laser-focused on their tasks. Was there a race coming up?

Stepping out of the car, your eyes land on Anton at the back, working on a car with Mason. You hadn't seen Mason in a while—not since the Sinner-Viper race nearly two months ago. Not that you missed him; Mason was one of the most aggravating members of the crew. Apparently, Anton in the moment thought so too, judging by the way he was yelling at him for some reason.

"Hey! Long time, no see."

You turned to see Mikey approaching, her brown eyes bright with curiosity.

She tilted her head, eyes scanning both you and Hunter. "So, what have you two been up to?"

"Oh, you know," Hunter chimed in, "just the usual. Saving the day and eating pancakes"

Mikey raised a brow, her skepticism softened by amusement. “Uh-huh. Sounds like you two are living the dream.”

She shifted her attention to you, crossing her arms. “Haven’t seen you around for a few days. No more late nights at the garage?”

You felt a flicker of unease. Something about Mikey always made you cautious, as if she could see right through you. Keeping your tone casual, you rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, the Aston’s finished, so I’m finally catching up on sleep. Not much reason to be here right now.”

Mikey tilted her head, clearly not satisfied with your vague answer. “Really? And here I thought this place was your second home. What’s been keeping you busy?”

Before you could formulate a response, Hunter swooped in. “Oh, don’t worry, we’re not slacking off. We’re just gearing up for a little road trip.”

“Road trip?” Mikey repeated, her interest clearly piqued.

Hunter nodded, grinning. “Yeah, figured it’s time for some fresh air and open roads. Recharge the batteries, you know?”

You shot him a subtle glare, but he just winked at you, unfazed.

Mikey narrowed her eyes slightly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “Interesting. Well, have fun with that. Don’t get into too much trouble.”

“Us? Trouble?” Hunter gasped, clutching his chest dramatically. “Never.”

"We actually came here to let Anton know we’ll be gone for a couple of days,” you say, flashing Mikey a polite smile. “Catch you later.” Without waiting for a response, you grab Hunter’s arm and drag him along.

“Would it kill you not to spill everything?” you hiss under your breath.

Hunter shrugged, his usual carefree grin firmly in place. “Relax. It’s gonna get out eventually that we’re taking a couple days off. If we act shady, it’ll just make people more suspicious.”

You sighed, shaking your head at his nonchalance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Together, you made your way toward the back of the garage, where Anton and Mason were knee-deep in their latest project.

“I don’t know why I keep you around, Mason,” Anton groaned, his hands dragging down his face in exasperation. “You incompetent fool!”

Hearing your footsteps, he glanced up, his frustration momentarily melting into surprise. “Y/n? What are you doing here?”

“Hey,” you greeted, keeping your tone light. “I'm kind of in a rush, but just wanted to let you know Hunter and I are heading out of town for a couple of days. Figured I’d let you know so you don’t worry.”

Anton’s brows furrowed as he straightened up, eyeing the both of you. “Heading out? What for?”

“Just a road trip,” you said casually, shrugging like it was no big deal. “You know, get some fresh air, clear our heads. Nothing major.”

His eyes flicked to Hunter, then back to you, his suspicion barely veiled. “Where to and who’s going?”

"We don't really know yet, wanna see where the road takes us you know? And just us two," you replied smoothly, lying without hesitation.

Anton’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, you thought he was going to press harder. Finally, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Alright, fine. But something feels off about this, and I don’t like it.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “If this is about something dangerous, you better tell me now. You know I’ll have your back.”

You swallowed hard but maintained your composure. “It’s not, I promise. We’ll be fine.”

He didn’t look convinced. Anton studied you for a moment longer before nodding, though his concern was evident. "Alright. Just be careful out there, okay? Keep your phones on and don't do anything stupid."

"Got it," you promised, trying to sound reassuring.

Hunter gave Anton a mock salute. "We'll be model citizens, swear."

Anton rolled his eyes but didn't press further. As you turned to leave, Mason chimed in from where he was leaning against the car. "Bring me back something cool! Like a souvenir or somethin'!"

Hunter snorted. "Sure thing, buddy. How about a map so you can finally figure out how to navigate a racetrack without crashing?"

You couldn't help but laugh as you walked away, though Anton's lingering concern weighed heavily in the back of your mind.

————

The SUV you “borrowed” from the garage rumbled along the highway as you adjusted your grip on the wheel, glancing at Hunter slouched comfortably in the passenger seat. Your packed bag sat in the back alongside his, evidence of your brief pit stop at home. 

The memory of Anton’s concerned expression lingered, gnawing at you. You hated that you hadn’t told him the truth. He’d lost his father too—same as you—and you knew better than anyone how much that loss shaped him. How much it shaped both of you. But unlike you, Anton didn’t know there was more to the story. That it wasn’t just a tragic accident.

You felt awful for keeping it from him, for standing there and letting him believe everything was fine. But what were you supposed to do? Drop that bombshell and then tell him you were heading out of town for a few days? There was no way he’d have let you leave. No way he wouldn’t try to step in, to get involved.

And as much as it tore you up inside, you couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. Protecting Jenna—and by extension, your fragile alliance with her—had to come first. There was too much at stake, and dragging Anton into it now would only complicate things further. Still, the weight of your silence felt heavier with each passing mile.

“You good?” Hunter’s voice broke through your spiraling thoughts, pulling you back to the present.

“Yeah,” you muttered, though the word felt hollow.

He raised a brow but didn’t push, thankfully. Instead, he leaned back in his seat, letting the conversation from earlier drift back in.

“I gotta admit. I thought Anton would take a lot more convincing.”

Hunter glanced at you with a smirk. “What, you thought he’d put his foot down? He knows you’re stubborn as hell. Probably figured there was no point fighting you on it.”

“Maybe,” you murmured, though a part of you wasn’t so sure. Anton letting you go that easily still didn’t sit right. He’d been wary, his words cautious, but ultimately, he hadn’t stopped you. You wondered if he trusted you more than you expected—or if he had reasons of his own for letting you leave.

Shaking the thought from your mind, you shifted the conversation. “By the way, you seemed pretty comfortable with Jenna and Aliyah back at the diner.”

Hunter shrugged nonchalantly. “They’re cool. Aliyah’s funny, and Jenna’s… well, Jenna. We were just chatting for a bit before you showed up.”

“Before I showed up?” you echoed, glancing at him skeptically. “She didn’t seem in a chatty mood when I got there.”

Hunter chuckled. “I guess I have that effect on people. Smooth-talker, remember?”

Something about the way he said it made you pause, a memory resurfacing. “Wait. Jenna texted you, didn’t she? How do you even know her?”

Hunter tensed ever so slightly, and you didn’t miss it. “Uh… well…”

The gears in your head were starting to turn. “Hunter,” you pressed, narrowing your eyes. “How do you know Jenna?”

He fidgeted with his hands, clearly stalling. “It’s complicated, alright? Don’t worry about it.”

Before you could demand an answer, the bright lights of the mall parking lot came into view, and you spotted Jenna and Aliyah parked and waiting near the back of the mall. Hunter exhaled dramatically, clearly relieved to be off the hook—for now.

"We're here," he announced unnecessarily, pointing out the obvious.

You rolled your eyes but focused on parking the SUV. As soon as you stepped out, Jenna's sharp gaze locked onto you, her arms crossed, while Aliyah waved with a cheeky grin. Whatever Hunter was hiding would have to wait.

You park the SUV next to their car and step out, heading straight for the trunk. Without a word, you pop it open before turning toward Jenna and Aliyah. Stretching out your hands, you motion for their bags.

Aliyah hands over her duffle bag without hesitation, but Jenna hesitates, squinting at you with suspicion. Her scoff cuts through the quiet as you turn around and load the bags into the trunk.

Following you to the back of the SUV, she crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. "Uhm, are you planning to explain what's going on anytime soon?"

You close the trunk with a sharp thunk and meet her gaze, keeping your tone steady. "I will."

You glance over your shoulder, flashing her a grin. "Oh, and hey—nice work shaking those guys. Not everyone's got those skills. Seriously, you were impressive."

As you turn back to the SUV, Jenna's voice comes softly, almost shyly, "Thanks."

You don't catch it, too focused on adjusting the bags in the trunk, but Aliyah and Hunter exchange knowing looks. Jenna's rare vulnerability wasn't something they saw often, and the faint pink dusting her cheeks didn't go unnoticed either.

————

You merge onto Interstate 5, the highway stretching south through California. The evening sun dips lower on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of gold and fiery orange. Hunter has his window down, one arm draped lazily over the edge, while Aliyah hums along to a faint tune playing on the radio. Jenna sits diagonally across from you, arms crossed, her gaze fixed out the window. The soft pout on her lips and the sharpness of her glare suggest she’s deep in thought—and likely still mad at you.

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips. Even in her frustration, she looks ridiculously adorable.

As you bring your eyes back to the road, they flicker back to the mirror—and that’s when it happens. Jenna catches your gaze, her sharp brown eyes locking onto yours.

Crap.

She breaks the silence, her tone firm but tinged with curiosity. “Alright, enough stalling. Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

You’re relieved she doesn’t make a snarky comment about catching you staring. Instead, you sigh and focus back on the road, deciding it’s time to answer her question.

“I’m sorry,” you start, glancing briefly at her reflection, then at Aliyah. “To both of you. You were right earlier… about being involved in all this.”

Hunter nods in silent approval from the passenger seat, encouraging you to keep going. “…As much as I don’t want either of you involved,” you continue, catching him facepalming out of the corner of your eye, “there’s no avoiding it now.”

"Neither one of can help it, and that car following you? It kind of put things into perspective for me. So I think the safe option for all of us to get out of town for a few days."

Jenna raises a brow, her expression unreadable, but she doesn’t respond right away. Aliyah and Hunter both glance at each other, waiting for someone to fill the silence. When Jenna finally speaks, her voice is softer than you expected. “Still didn’t answer the question,” she says. “Where are we going?”

You shrug one shoulder, keeping your eyes on the road. “I don’t know,” you admit with a lopsided grin. “I’m just driving.”

Jenna stares at you for a long moment before exhaling and shaking her head. She doesn’t voice the acceptance of your apology, but something in her gaze softens, and you can tell she’s made her peace with it—for now.

“Unbelievable,” she mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. “We’re on the run, and you’re winging it? Great plan, genius.”

Aliyah bursts into laughter, and Hunter cheers, “This is classic! Road trip roulette—who needs a destination when you’ve got vibes?” 

Jenna pinches the bridge of her nose, mumbling something under her breath, but you swear you catch the faintest hint of a smile.

————

The next hour passes surprisingly smoothly. Everyone keeps themselves entertained in their own way, avoiding any mention of the issues that pushed you all to leave town in the first place. Aliyah has her headphones in, swaying gently to whatever music she’s listening to, while Jenna scrolls through her phone, occasionally glancing out the window. Hunter fiddles with the radio, switching stations until he finds a faintly decent song, only to switch it again moments later.

You keep your focus on the road, but your mind drifts. A part of you wished you could bring back the easy banter you used to have with Jenna—back before you ghosted her. It would've made the drive so much more fun. Instead, there’s this quiet tension hanging in the air between you two, one you’re desperately hoping will dissolve sooner rather than later. At least Hunter agreed to take over driving on the way back. Maybe by then, things between you and Jenna will be better.

Suddenly, Hunter starts humming, his voice cutting through the silence. At first, it’s aimless, but then it takes shape.

“Ninety-nine bottles of milk on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of milk!” he sings loudly, grinning as he looks around at everyone.

You groan. “Oh, no. Don’t.”

Aliyah chuckles behind you, joining in softly, “Take one down, pass it around, ninety-eight bottles of milk on the wall!”

Jenna sighs dramatically but mutters, “This is so dumb,” just before she jumps in on the next line. Within minutes, the whole car erupts into an awkward yet oddly harmonious singalong, voices overlapping and laughter spilling between verses. By the time you hit ninety-five bottles, everyone’s belting at the top of their lungs.

It’s ridiculous, it’s cheesy, and it’s exactly what you all needed.

When the laughter finally dies down, Jenna clears her throat. “Uh, I need to pee.”

You glance at her through the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow. Internally, you can’t help but think, Really? We’ve only been on the road for an hour. Did she not go before we left?

But you don’t voice the thought. Instead, you nod, spotting a route stop up ahead. “Alright, we’ll pull over.”

As you exit the highway and roll into the rest stop, Hunter claps your shoulder. “Road trips, man. This is what it’s all about.”

You just shake your head, chuckling as you park the SUV.

————

As everyone steps out at the route stop, the golden light of the setting sun casts long shadows over the parking lot. Hunter stretches dramatically, mumbling something about his aching legs, while Aliyah is already darting toward the brightly lit convenience store, proclaiming her hunt for snacks. Jenna heads to the bathroom, and once she returns she lingers by the SUV, her arms folded, her body language closed.

“Need anything?” you ask, hesitating slightly as you approach her.

She shakes her head but doesn’t look at you. “I’m good.”

You nod, biting back the urge to say more, and join Aliyah and Hunter into the store. The shelves are stocked with everything from bags of chips to questionable gas station sushi.

Hunter immediately gravitates toward the candy aisle, gleefully holding up a pack of gummy worms. “You know you want some,” he teases, tossing a pack at Aliyah, who yelps and tries to dodge.

You chuckle at their antics but can’t help glancing back toward the SUV, wondering if Jenna’s still standing there, or if she’s wandered in.

She hasn’t.

Grabbing a couple of bottled drinks and a bag of chips, you head to the register. Aliyah sidles up beside you, arms full of snacks. “Do you think we should get something for Jenna? She barely ate earlier.”

You hesitate, and recall her eating a chocolate the day you both hung out at the mall and then grab that brand of chocolate from a display near the checkout.

Outside, you find Jenna leaning against the side of the car, scrolling through her phone. You hold out the candy as you approach. “Figured you might want this.”

She glances at it, then at you, her lips twitching like she’s suppressing a thank-you. “Thanks,” she says quietly, taking it without meeting your eyes.

There’s a pause. The others are still inside, their laughter faintly audible from the store. For a moment, it’s just you and Jenna in the fading light.

“You okay?” you ask softly, unsure if you’re even expecting an answer.

She finally meets your gaze, her expression guarded but not unkind. “I’m fine,” she replies, but her tone doesn’t match the words.

You want to push, to ask what’s really on her mind, but something about the way she holds herself stops you. Instead, you nod and step back, giving her space.

She seemed fine interacting with you in the group, she was more vocal. But once it was just you two she got all quiet. But she surprised you with her next words.

She finally glances at you properly, her eyes searching yours. “Thanks, by the way. For this. I know you didn’t have to.”

You swallow, suddenly aware of how close she’s standing. “You don’t have to thank me, Jenna. I just… I want to make sure you’re safe—and your sister!”

She nods faintly, looking down at the ground. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you under the flickering lights.

Before the moment can stretch too long, Hunter sticks his head out of the car window. “Yo! Are we road-tripping or setting up camp here? Let’s go!”

Jenna chuckles, the tension breaking as she steps back. “Guess we should get going.”

“Yeah.” You push off the SUV, giving her a small nod. “Let’s hit the road.”

As you both climb back into the car, you can’t help but glance at her through the mirror again. She doesn’t notice this time, and you’re glad she doesn’t.

————

"Hey, Y/n, remember the car I was driving yesterday?" Aliyah asks, her voice breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen over the SUV.

It’s been about two and a half hours since you hit the road, and everyone is busy with their snacks. Conversations drift in and out, short bursts of chatter punctuated by the rustling of wrappers.

You hum softly, urging her to continue.

Aliyah glances at you in the rearview mirror, her tone casual. “It’s pretty cool that you own that car. My dad used to have the same one, and I remember him always going on and on about how rare it was. Small world, huh?” She shrugs, clearly amused by the coincidence.

You and Jenna freeze. For a moment, no one says anything, and the awkward silence hangs in the air like a weight.

You glance at Jenna through the rearview mirror, and she avoids your gaze. Great, you think. Of all the things to come up right now, this had to be it.

“Well…” you clear your throat, deciding Aliyah deserves to know at this point. “That was your dad’s car.”

Aliyah’s brows furrow in confusion. “What? No, his was black.”

“Yeah,” you admit with an awkward laugh, “and then I wrapped it green.”

The realization dawns on her, and she turns to Jenna, her jaw dropping as she whisper yells, “Oh my God! You like the girl who stole Dad’s car?”

Jenna’s eyes widen, and her face flushes. “Aliyah, shut up!” she snaps, but her tone lacks bite.

Aliyah smirks, clearly reveling in her discovery. “I mean, this is peak comedy. She stole Dad’s car, and you’re just fine with it?”

“I’m not fine with it,” Jenna retorts, but her lips curve slightly as if she’s holding back a smile. “And for the record, it was both of us who stole it.”

Aliyah raises her hands in mock surrender. “Oh, so now you’re an accomplice? Love that for you.”

While they bicker in their private conversation, Jenna’s eyes soften, and her gaze turns nostalgic. “That day was insane,” she murmurs, more to herself than anyone else. “We had no idea what we were doing, but it was... kind of thrilling."

Not knowing what the two girls were talking about, you glance at her in the mirror for the millionth time today. Jenna’s smile, faint and genuine, tugs at something deep in your chest, but before you can dwell on it, Hunter’s voice cuts in.

“Well, look at you,” he says with a laugh, nudging your arm. “Stealing the car of the dad of the girl you like. That’s one for the books, huh?”

“Shut up, Hunter,” you groan, shoving his arm off you.

He just grins wider. “Nah, I’m serious. You’ve really outdone yourself here. Romantic and criminal—who knew you had it in you?”

Rolling your eyes, you lean back into the seat, but an idea suddenly strikes you. "Alright, since we're all in a sharing mood, how about this—Hunter, how exactly do you and Jenna know each other?" Your tone pointed, almost teasing.

Silence.

Not a word, not even the rustle of snack wrappers from the backseat.

Aliyah breaks the tension, her brows knitting as she glances at her sister. "Wait...what? I thought we both met Hunter this morning?"

You glance in the rearview mirror. Jenna’s expression is stone cold, her face unreadable, like she’s mastered the art of giving away nothing. She doesn’t so much as blink, just stares out the window as though the question didn’t even register.

Hunter, on the other hand, looks like he’s sweating bullets. His hand fidgets with the strap of his seatbelt, and he clears his throat awkwardly. “Uh, well… you see…”

Before Hunter can dig himself into an even deeper hole, Jenna suddenly bursts out laughing. The sound is so unexpected, so completely jarring after the tension-filled silence, that your head whips around to look at her.

Her laughter is light and melodic, the kind that shakes her shoulders and makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. For a second, you forget about the chaos in the car and just stare.

Her laugh is kind of… cute, you think, catching yourself and quickly looking back at the road before anyone notices.

Jenna waves a hand, her laughter dying down just enough to speak. “Relax, Hunter. Seriously, it’s not a big deal. Go ahead, tell them.”

Aliyah sighs loudly from the backseat, crossing her arms. “Okay, my patience is wearing thin. Someone better spill before I start throwing snacks.”

"Okay fine, you tell them Jenna, since you think it's so funny," Hunter mumbles defeated, shrinking into his seat.

Jenna glances at Hunter, who is clearly trying to become one with his seatbelt. With a small shrug, she answers casually, “I walked in on Hunter… being intimate.”

You blink, nearly missing your next lane change. “Oh, wow. That’s… embarrassing,” you mutter, trying not to laugh. But then your brain starts piecing things together, and you frown. “Wait a second. How does that even happen? Like… was this in public or something? Did you come to Brimstone, or were you—”

Hunter interrupts, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “I was in Summer Valley, okay?”

You glance at him out of the corner of your eye. “Oh, okay. Get that bag, I guess. But, man, from the way you were sweating, I thought it was something really bad.”

For a second, you think the tension has finally lifted. But then Hunter lets out a resigned sigh, muttering, “I was with someone from the Viper's crew.”

It all made sense now, why Hunter was so understanding of the idea of you being affiliated with a Viper—why there was two toothbrushes in his bathroom.

He had his own fucking Viper.

“What the fuck?!” you shout, your voice climbing a whole octave as you instinctively swerve the car.

Hunter grabs the oh-shit handle. “Whoa, whoa, focus! You’re driving, not judging!”

“What the fuck Hunter?!” you yell again, steadying the wheel as the SUV veers slightly back into the lane. Thankfully, it’s almost 8 pm, and the highway is relatively empty, so you narrowly avoid disaster. "You're fucking a Viper?! What the actual—"

Hunter throws up his hands defensively. “What’s the big deal?! You are too!”

You slam the brakes—figuratively, of course—your head whipping around to glare at him. “EXCUSE ME?!”

Your face goes red-hot, and you stammer, “I’m not—what—literally who?! I’m not fucking anybody!”

Hunter smirks, sensing your flustered state. “Oh, sure. But you wish you were fucking a Viper.”

If you thought you couldn’t blush any harder, you were wrong. From the backseat, Aliyah is howling with laughter while Jenna buries her face in her hands, her own ears tinged pink.

“You’re delusional,” you snap at Hunter, but your embarrassment only fuels his laughter. “Seriously, who even—"

“Doesn’t matter!” Hunter interrupts, his grin practically splitting his face. “I’m just saying, don’t judge me when you’ve got your own Viper situation brewing back there.”

“Hunter, I swear—”

Aliyah cuts you off, gasping between giggles. “Oh my God, I can’t breathe. This is the best road trip ever!”

Jenna groans softly, pressing a hand to her forehead, but the small, stupid smile tugging at her lips betrays her. She hated being teased, especially by Aliyah, who had the precision of a sniper when it came to embarrassing her. Yet, as the chaos bubbled in the backseat, Jenna found her thoughts wandering to the things Hunter had been saying to poke at you.

What had you two been talking about? Hunter clearly knew something she didn’t, and now, curiosity gnawed at her despite herself. She glanced at you, watching as you muttered under your breath and tightened your grip on the steering wheel like it might save you. It wasn’t just the teasing; something else was making you squirm, and Jenna couldn’t stop the faint curve of her lips from growing into a fuller smile.

She didn’t know what Hunter was hinting at, but the way your ears burned red and your gaze stayed glued to the road… she couldn’t help but find it a little endearing.

————

The freeway stretched ahead in an endless ribbon of asphalt, swallowed by the inky darkness of night. The faint glow of distant city lights barely pierced the dark sky, leaving only the occasional flash of headlights to illuminate the passing road signs and surrounding emptiness. It was quiet now, except for the hum of the tires against the pavement and the faint sound of Aliyah’s soft snores from the backseat. The earlier chaos had subsided, leaving the SUV calm in stillness.

You glanced over at Hunter, slumped against the window with his head bobbing slightly with the movement of the car. He and Aliyah had devoured the candy earlier like children on Halloween and, predictably, crashed hard. For the last thirty minutes, they’d been completely out, and you were silently grateful for the reprieve. Any more teasing, and you were sure your heart would’ve leapt out of your chest.

Your heart was still pounding, though.

You sigh as you wrestled with a thought you’d been avoiding for a while. You never addressed ghosting Jenna. You mentioned to her at the meeting that you’d talk later, but then you didn’t. And now, things between you were stuck in this strange, awkward limbo. You hated it. You hated the distance and the way your banter had evaporated into stilted exchanges.

More than anything, you wanted this trip to be enjoyable for both of you—for her.

“Hey, Jenna you awake?” you said softly, testing the waters. You knew she was awake. Her breathing wasn’t even enough to fool you. You just needed something to break the ice.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she muttered, her voice low to avoid waking her sister.

You hesitated for a moment, your hands flexing nervously against the steering wheel. Then you took a deep breath and decided to do what needed to be done.

“I just… I want to apologize,” you began, keeping your eyes fixed on the road ahead. “For ghosting you. I know it was shitty, and you didn’t deserve it.”

She didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel her eyes on you, listening.

“I… I had a conversation with my mom the first day I didn’t reply to you,” you continued, your voice soft and unsteady. “And it—it messed with my head. I found out my dad wanted out of the Sinners. That completely flipped everything I thought I knew. I was already so confused, and it just made things worse. And then…” You paused, forcing yourself to push through the lump in your throat. “It made me feel terrified. Of everything. Of this whole situation. And of you. Of what you made me feel—what I felt for—”

You clamped your mouth shut, cutting yourself off realizing you spilled too much. Your mind was already coming up with excuses for what you meant by what you made me feel. Heat crawled up your neck, your knuckles stark white against the dim light from the dashboard. You scrambled internally for a way to gloss over your slip-up, but the words weren’t coming.

“I’m not trying to excuse what I did,” you said after a beat. “There’s no excuse for it. I just wanted to explain, to tell you why I acted the way I did. And to say I’m sorry. Really sorry.” 

She's not saying anything. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and you risked a quick glance in her direction, her expression unreadable in the faint glow of the passing headlights.

Panic began to claw at your chest.

“I didn’t want to hurt you,” you blurted out, your words rushing now. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I know what I did was shitty, and I know I have no right to expect forgiveness—”

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me, Greaser."

Greaser.

You smile.

And that was all she said until Hunter and Aliyah awoken from their slumber twenty minutes later. But it was enough.

————

"Damn, how long was I out?" Hunter grumbled, rubbing the back of his neck as he shifted in his seat.

Aliyah stretched with an exaggerated groan, yawning as if she'd been asleep for days.

"Only about forty minutes," you replied, glancing at them. The weight in your chest felt lighter after your moment with Jenna, but a part of you braced for the teasing chaos that might erupt now that they were awake.

Aliyah groaned dramatically. "Ugh, I was hoping the driving part would be over when I woke up. Are we seriously just gonna spend days cooped up in this car?"

"We’ve only been driving for like three hours," Hunter pointed out with a shrug.

"And that’s not far enough?" Aliyah raised a brow.

Hunter nodded, turning his gaze to you. "She’s got a point, you know."

"...I have a suggestion." Aliyah finally says.

"Shoot," you encourage her.

She leaned forward slightly, a mischievous grin spreading across her face as she looked at Jenna. "How about we visit Markus? We’re probably close to him already."

Jenna’s face lit up instantly, her smile matching her sister’s excitement. "That would be amazing, Ali, but… are we really gonna risk leading trouble straight to him?"

Aliyah waved the concern off with a dismissive hand. "Come on, you really think those bad guys are gonna follow us all the way to LA?"

While the sisters debated, you leaned toward Hunter, lowering your voice. "Who the fuck is Markus?"

Hunter smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "What’s the matter? You jealous?"

"What? No!" you snapped, scoffing like the idea was ridiculous. But your mind betrayed you, lingering on Jenna’s radiant smile. Who was this guy, and why did she look so happy talking about him?

The sisters’ conversation quieten down, and Aliyah finally addresses you, her grin still firmly in place. "Y/n, how does a trip to UCLA sound?"

Taglist: @godamnityess @machyishere @freakshow2501 @nwestra @mcchicken88

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@cobaltperun

[marauder-misprint]

would u write abt some angsty (mybe w a happy ending?) w remus, please? if possible maybe smtg like the bet trope, im soo down bad with bet tropes, 😔😔😔 im sorry if its a burden, and thank you for spending ur time reading this

You said "bet trope" and I said bet. So it's more fluff than angst... oops? I'll try to get more angst with Remus soon

Conducive

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

4.7k words

cw: fluff, lil angst,

“Moons, how is it that you’ve never been kissed, yet everyone calls you Casanova?” Sirius asks at dinner in the Great Hall one evening.

Remus raises his eyebrows but doesn’t look away from his plate.

“I respect women?” he offers. 

“We all respect women here. But come on, even Peter’s kissed Mary,” James adds.

Remus looks up at his friends. “I’m here for an education. Dumbledore was kind enough to let me be here; least I can do is focus. You three are distraction enough.”

“I just think you could do with some more… distractions,” Sirius says, waving his fork around as a prop to make his point. 

“If I wanted a female distraction, I’d have no issues obtaining it.”

“No issues, huh?” Peter asks. “Care to prove it?”

Remus shot him a glare. “Did you miss the part where I said if I wanted it?”

“I don’t see how you don’t want it.”

“Wormy’s got a point,” James says.

“Let me rephrase: If I needed a female distraction,” Remus says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Sure, I want it from time to time, but if anyone else found out about my furry little secret, I’d be out of here. So I’m making the most of my time.”

“No one is going to find out!” Sirius says. “Have. Some. Fun.”

“You lot found out.”

“We live with you.”

“Still. You don’t think if I got involved with someone that it would take them that long? It was hard enough lying to you. What if I start to actually like someone? It’d be impossible.”

“Then don’t like them. Just get them to like you enough to kiss them and then ditch them,” Sirius suggests, earning himself a glare from Remus.

“That just sounds cruel.”

“More cruel than you denying yourself feminine company?”

“I’m Casanova, remember? I get plenty of company.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I still think you should prove it,” Peter says. “Do what Pads suggested.”

“What?”

“Get a girl.”

“Keep her ‘round long enough to get off and then you jet. Easy ‘nough, yeah?” James clarifies for Remus, given his mildly confused look.

“No,” Remus says firmly. 

“What if we made a bet out of it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward. 

That got Remus’ attention.

“Okay, then what do I get out of it? When I win.” 

“If, and only if, you can get a girlfriend and snog the living daylights out of her, we will… uh… willingly study with you in the library for finals. We’ll be complacent participants, helping you and ourselves. As you try to drag us to do every year,” Sirius says. He pauses as the other two nod. “And if you fail, butterbeers are on you for the rest of the year.”

Remus snorts. “So if I do it, I just get company in the library and you benefit. But if I lose, I’m financially ruined?” 

“More incentive,” Peter retorts. 

“You’re on,” Remus says, offering his hand for Sirius to shake. He does. “If I wasn’t sure I could do it, I’d be asking for better terms.” 

“Wait!” James interrupts with Remus and Sirius still mid-shake. “I feel like we should pick who it has to be. Otherwise you could just ask Marlene to snog you.”

Remus makes a face. “She’s dating Dorcas, you know this.”

“No, no, he has a point,” Peter says. “Either of them would snog you if you said it was for a bet, especially if it means we,” he gestures to him, James and Sirius, “lose said bet.”

“Fine. Pick the girl. For the love of Godric, pick someone single and semi-tolerable.”

The boys scan the hall, not paying attention to house. Their eyes land on you. All three boys seemed to be in agreement before any of them voiced your name. 

“Her,” James says, pointing at you.

You were just as perpetually single as Remus, although he didn’t know what your reason for being so was. It wasn’t like boys never approached you, offering to pay for your drinks at Hogsmeade or to stand by you at the next Quidditch match, but the boys always walked away looking a bit down. You shot them down. Every single one of them.

So in the boys’ attempt to get him to prove his ability to charm a girl, they also wanted to see a miracle. From the grins on their faces, they know it’s going to be impossible.

“So you want my financial ruin?”

“I want either want butterbeer or you to get fucking laid,” Sirius says coolly. “It’s a win-win for me.”

“We said nothing about me getting laid!” Remus exclaims, panicking. “We said kiss, snog, neck, whatever you want to call it. Not laid.”

James laughs, “If you can get a snog out of her, you’re definitely getting laid.”

“I hate that I shook on this already,” Remus groans. He knows he has no way out of this now. 

---

You are blissfully unaware of the bet the Marauders have going. You have no reason to think that you are of any concern to them, besides that Remus now occasionally says hello to you in passing. If anything, it feels like the other three are purposefully avoiding you, not that that matters to you. It’s preferable that way. You had always found Remus to be the most tolerable of them, but that didn’t mean you were friends or spoke to him all that often. Right now, it meant that you said hi back to him.

You are studying in the library when Remus comes up and asks if you’d mind if he shared a table with you. There are other tables available, but you agree. You are struggling with your Transfiguration essay and if it comes to it, you’re almost positive you could ask him for help. Until then, you work near each other in silence. That is, until someone else joins your table. 

Andrew Lark, a boy in your house, sits across from you. 

“You going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” he asks. 

“No,” you say shortly, not looking up from your essay, although you do stop writing. You don’t want to write the wrong thing down because Andrew was talking.

“Do you want to? I’d love to take you.”

“No thank you, Andrew.”

“Come on, love. Let me take you out.”

“I have no desire to go to Hogsmeade this weekend, nor do I want to go out with you.”

“Baby, we’d have-” he starts to say.

“Lark, she said no,” Remus says calmly, having stopped working as soon as Andrew approached the table. 

Andrew shot Remus an annoyed look. “Wasn’t talking to you, Lupin.”

“I know. But you weren’t listening to her.”

“This doesn’t involve you.”

Remus scoffs. “You interrupted my studying by being here. I’d say I’m semi-involved.”

“Then sit elsewhere,” Andrew says, before turning back to you. “Last chance? It’d be more fun than you’re imagining.”

You give Remus a sideways glance. He’s looking at you, waiting for your response as much as Andrew is. 

“Surprise, surprise, Remus is right. I said no.” You give Remus a quick smile before turning back to your essay.

Andrew rolls his eyes and stands up. “Think about it, dove. My offer will always stand.”

Then he walks away. You and Remus both return to your silent working. You feel Remus’ eyes on you every once in a while; you can also tell he’s looking at you from when he pauses his writing, letting his quill just hover above the ink pot longer than a person normally would. 

“So what do you have against Hogsmeade?” he asks after a few minutes. 

You snort. “Oh, nothing really. Andrew’s been asking me to go with him for months and I’d really rather not go with him. Plus, Slughorn’s essay? Haven’t even started that.”

Remus nods with a breath of relief. “Good, I don’t know how anyone can actually not like Hogsmeade.” He pauses. “Would you like company when you work on that essay?”

The question catches you off guard. You look up at him and you’re sure the shock is evident on your face. 

“I, uh, can’t stop anyone from being in the library,” you say, feeling uncertain.

“Well, no,” he chuckles. “But if you’d rather work alone…”

You don’t respond right away; you’re considering it. Remus wasn’t a bother. You didn’t know why he would give up a Hogsmeade trip to be in the library with you though. You knew he usually accompanied his boisterous friends to the village.

“If it’s just you, I suppose company could be nice.” A small smile is playing at your lips in a way Remus has never seen before. “If you’re thinking of bringing the rest of your little gang with you, I’d rather you stay away then.”

Remus chuckles. “Those gits will be off in the village. Possibly pestering Lark.” He sends a wink your way.

You shake your head as you look back down at your essay, but there’s an undeniable smile on your face now. Remus sees it as a success. Maybe with a little persuading from him, the others would let Lark know he needed to back off of you and you’d be free from his pursuits. 

Come Saturday, you and Remus are back at the same table. Except he’s sitting across from you and reading as opposed to working on his own assignments.

Curious, you ask, “Weren’t you assigned this essay too?”

“Finished it.”

“And you don’t have anything else to work on?”

“No. That’s why I’m reading.” He flourishes his book for emphasis.

“So you gave up going to Hogsmeade for…” Your voice lilts like you’re asking a question.

“To keep you company while you work.”

“I work alone all the time. I’m usually more productive that way.”

“Maybe you just haven’t had company conducive to efficiency.”

“Who talks like that?” you laugh. “Company conducive to efficiency.”

Remus smiles at you and sets his book down. “I’m just saying! Some people are more of a distraction while others let you do your thing. James and Sirius? Distractions. Peter… He goes back and forth between the two.”

“And I suppose you’re conducive for them.”

“Most of the time. Others, I’m as bad as they are.”

He picks his book back up to continue reading and you return to your essay. The library is silent except for the scratching of your quill and the occasional turning of pages by Remus. You sneak a few glances at him when you finish a sentence or a paragraph, and you catch yourself full on staring at him when you finish. As you put your work away, you clear your throat to get his attention.

“I suppose you being here was conducive, but I feel bad that you didn’t go to Hogsmeade.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t. Sometimes I need a break from certain people.”

“Then let me make it up to you. Let’s go to Hogsmeade together tomorrow.” You pause and blush at what you just said. “If you want to, of course, and don’t have anything else planned. I just thought that, because you didn’t go today and tomorrow will be less busy since everyone goes today.” You feel yourself rambling which makes you blush harder.

“Yeah, okay. That’d be nice. Meet you in the Great Hall after breakfast? Or lunch? I’m really okay with either.”

“I’m not a morning person,” you say with a chuckle. “We could get lunch in Hogsmeade?”

“Oh, okay. Then meet by the Grand Entrance around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan, Lupin. I’ll, uh, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As you walk away from him, he can’t help but smile. This was going better than planned. He didn’t have to ask you out; you asked him. And all he had to do was not be forward about it with you. Now, he just had to work up to kissing you, and then snogging. 

You’re more nervous than you expected to be in the morning. You had never been on a date before, and you weren’t even sure if this would count as one. Your roommates were confused as to why you didn’t go to Hogsmeade yesterday with them but were going today.

“It’s just backwards!” one had tried to explain when they heard of your plan. “Everyone goes to Hogsmeade on Saturday and does homework on Sunday!”

“Which leads to Hogsmeade being packed and then the library being packed. It makes sense to go today.”

You purposefully left out that you were meeting Remus and going with him. Just as he hadn’t told his friends that he was making progress with you. For now, until something proper came out of it, this Hogsmeade visit would be something you shared only with each other.

Remus is waiting for you when you finally leave your dorm. The walk to Hogsmeade is quiet. It’s not awkward though. You’re glad he’s not trying to force conversation. You fear that would be more uncomfortable. 

“So where do you want to go first?” you ask as you arrive. 

“I don’t mind as long as we hit up Honeydukes and Three Broomsticks at some point,” he says with a shrug. 

You can’t help but think he looks a bit cute with his hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Start at Three Broomsticks then? Get our lunch and go from there?” you suggest. 

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

As expected, the pub isn’t too busy. You find a table and order food and butterbeers from Rosmerta. Then it’s just the two of you at a table. He asks about your essay that you were working on yesterday and if you think Slughorn will like it. He talks about his own. Conversation covers a lot of school, but then it drifts to your friends and Quidditch. And then to the Marauders and their pranks. Time flies by so quickly. Your plates are emptied quickly and you go through several mugs of butterbeer. You only notice how much time has gone by you glance out the window by chance and the sun is lower in the sky than you had expected.

“Oh! We need to get going if you still want to go to Honeydukes.”

Remus looks to the window and nods. “I didn’t realize the time…”

He waves down Rosmerta and hands her some galleons. You smack his shoulder gently as you exit the pub together. 

“You paid? I was the one who invited you to Hogsmeade. I should’ve paid.”

He rolls his eyes. “Doesn’t the guy on a date though?”

You blush, which in turn causes him to blush. So this was a date. And you had initiated.

“Let me pay for your chocolate at least.”

“Oh, don’t go down that road,” he says with a laugh and a wide smile. “You are underestimating how much chocolate I’ll be getting.”

“Galleons worth?” 

“Galleons worth.”

“Remus Lupin! That cannot be healthy!”

“‘S not my fault my stash gets raided constantly.”

You laugh. The air is light between you. He really does get several galleons worth of chocolate; you thought he was kidding. You insist on paying for part of it. The owners of Honeydukes patiently wait for you to leave the store before locking the door behind you. The sun is set by the time you’re walking back to Hogwarts. The crescent moon is high in the night sky, bathing the path back to school in a pale light.

When you reach the castle, still standing outside, you say, “This was fun. I’m glad I got to go to Hogsmeade.”

“I’m glad I got to go with you.”

You feel your face heat. The romantic in you tells you, no, begs you to kiss his cheek. Tell him he’s why it was so fun. Talking over butterbeers was your favorite way to pass time and you really enjoyed getting to know him better. But you weren’t so bold. 

“Goodnight Remus,” you say before heading inside. 

He stood outside for a few minutes longer. He should have kissed your cheek. He was kicking himself for not doing so. But that might have been too bold and risked scaring you off. It was probably for the best that he didn’t. He needed to work up to it. The boys were waiting for him when he returned to his dorm.

“Where have you been all day?” James asks accusingly as soon as Remus walks through the door.

“None of your business, Mum,” Remus says, tossing the Honeydukes bag on his bed.

“Honeydukes?” Peter asks, sitting up. “You went to Hogsmeade? Just now?”

“You went to Hogsmeade without us?” James asks, putting two and two together. 

“You went yesterday,” Remus reminds him.

“You chose to stay back. Why go today?”

“Because-” he starts to say.

“You’re working on the bet, aren’t you?” Sirius cuts him off. The smile Sirius was sporting said that he knew he was right.

“Yes.”

James and Peter gasp. Sirius grins wider.

“So you going to tell us how it’s going?”

“No.”

“Why not?” Peter asks with a pout forming on his face.

“You’ll just know when I succeed.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and laughs. “Must be going well if you’re still confident you’re going to succeed.”

---

“Andrew, for the love of Merlin, leave me alone,” you complain on your way to class.

Whatever the Marauders did to him at Hogsmeade wasn’t enough. He seemed more urgent than ever to take you on a date, even with you telling him that you weren’t interested in him in the slightest. He stands in the doorway to your class, which he isn’t in.

“Come on, just one date. It’ll be the best one you’ve ever been on!”

Remus looks up from his conversation with the boys at his desk at Andrew’s voice. He hears you groan.

“Let me into my class!”

Remus is there in a moment. 

“Lark, let the lady through,” Remus says firmly.

Andrew spins around in the doorway, still blocking it but now looking at Remus. 

“Little Lupin to the rescue? You fancy her or something?”

“Yeah, a bit,” Remus answers, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. “Now let her through. I think she’s made her opinions of you quite clear.”

Andrew glances at you over his shoulder. 

“Hear that, dove? Lupin likes you.”

“I’d hope so. We went on a date.”

Andrew’s arms fall so he’s not blocking the door as well and Remus pulls you through, which makes Andrew stumble slightly out of the way.

“What do you mean you went on a date?” Andrew asks indignantly. “A date? An actual date? With him?”

“That’s what I said. Care to confirm?” you ask, looking up at Remus, who is still holding your arm.

“Yeah. It was quite lovely. She’s quite lovely.” He looks down at you with a soft smile. 

Then without thinking, you lean up and press a chaste kiss to his cheek. Andrew looks ready to scream and a few hollers erupt from behind you. You scan the room for the source. The Marauders. You’re not too surprised at that. Of course Remus’ friends would be watching him as he came to play hero. It’s less than thirty seconds, but by the time you look back over to the door, Andrew has vanished.

“Thanks, Remus,” you breathe.

“Maybe he’ll finally leave you alone, huh?”

“Hope so.”

He walks you to your desk before returning to his own, where James pats him enthusiastically on the back. Throughout the entire lesson, you two are looking over at each other. Most of the time, when one is looking, the other isn’t. You only make eye contact with him once all lesson, which caused both of you to turn a deep shade of crimson. 

By the end of the week, Andrew stops asking you out on the daily and appears to be purposefully avoiding you and Remus. You find ways to spend more time with him, scheduling study time in the library and comparing schedules so that you can walk to your classes together. You even join him and his friends for lunch every few days. They were rather shocked the first time, but quickly turned into a welcoming group. 

It became obvious to those around you that you were seeing Remus. It came as a surprise to many people, including your friends. 

“What do you mean you’re dating Remus Lupin? When do you talk to him?”

“What do you mean you went to Hogsmeade with him? Alone?”

“When did this happen and why didn’t we know about it?”

Excuses of minding your own business and not wanting to count your chickens before they hatched echoed in your dorm. It really had come out of nowhere, but you suppose it was because Remus pursued you in a way that no one else had. He wasn’t putting you on the spot to do the things he wanted and disrupting you when you were clearly busy. He liked to be in your presence and took your opinion into consideration before suggesting things. Even better, he put Andrew Lark in his place. 

You were headed to your usual table to meet Remus for a study session; you refused to call them study dates because you knew your mind would say that you can’t be productive on a date. You laugh at your thoughts: dates are not conducive for studying. You hear Remus’ voice as you walk through the shelves, collecting some books you know you need for your Herbology assignment. You stop mid-step when you hear additional voices at your table.

“Have you snogged her yet, Moony?” Sirius asks.

“No, not yet,” he answers with a sigh. 

Not yet. You smile.

“Well, could you get on with it? You’ve been spending so much time with her. We need you for this prank.”

“You were the one to suggest the bet. Sorry I’m taking my time.”

“But you’re going to break up with her once you do, right?” Peter asks. “Complete the bet and get out before you catch feelings. That was the point of this.”

You bite your lip, hoping that somehow this wasn’t about you, that maybe Remus had a voice twin and they were talking about the other boy’s girl. You knew that it wasn’t possible, but you had to hope for a moment. But then James spoke. 

“Even better, you got Lark off her back so she owes you. She owes you a snog and then you’re free. You’ll have gotten your kiss, Casanova.”

Lark. He had only been after you for a while. And Remus had been the reason he was leaving you alone. 

You leave your hiding place within the books, stepping into their line of sight. Remus’ eyes go wide as he sees you. His heart breaks when he sees the tears in your eyes. You had heard and he knew it. 

You lock eyes with him and you shake your head. Holding the books close to your chest, you turn to leave the library. How could you work with someone who was only with you to snog you for a bet? A damn bet? 

You ignore Remus calling after you. You don’t break into a run; you have too many books in your arms to run, but you’re walking as quickly as you can. From the sound of his footsteps, he is running. Running and calling your name, saying it isn’t what you think. That the boys don’t know what they are talking about. You spin on the spot to glare at him through tears when he finally catches up to you and places a hand on your shoulder. 

“Did you or did you not ask to sit at my table in the library because of, of, of that bet?” you spit. It comes out harsh. It was supposed to. You were angry and upset.

“I did, but-”

“There’s no buts about this, Remus,” you say firmly. You’re firm but your voice is laced with sadness and uncertainty. “All of this was because of a bet. And I’m not a bet. So yeah. Go fuck yourself.”

You leave him standing in the corridor. He could’ve followed you. Some part of him knew he should have so that he could explain. 

---

You avoid Remus at all costs. He tries to hunt you down in the library, in between classes, in the Great Hall. He’s even taken to sitting outside your dorm. Your roommates step around him, muttering insults. He doesn’t blame them. If it had been anyone else doing this, he would be saying the same insults under his breath to Sirius, James and Peter. He hated himself for agreeing to the stupid bet in the first place. He should have just gone after you on his own terms. 

About a week later, you spent all day studying in the library and you were honestly surprised that Remus didn’t show up once. You missed dinner, but you didn’t mind. If you had gone to dinner, you might have run into Remus and if you were safe in the library, you were staying there until you went to bed. Except you ran into Remus while trying to go to bed. He was asleep outside your dorm’s door. You knew you should’ve just gone into your dorm and ignored him, but you were a good person and wouldn’t let him sleep like that all night. You nudge his side gently with your foot.

“Lupin,” you say softly. “Lupin, wake up.”

He stirs, rubbing his eyes. When he sees that you’re the one who woke up and not some disgruntled prefect, he jumps to his feet and hugs you. You make a startled noise at the hug.

“Please, let me explain,” he whispers.

“You have five minutes. Then I’m going to bed.”

“Okay, thank you,” he says quickly. “Thank you. Okay, so yes, it did start as a bet.”

You groan and reach for the doorknob. He puts his hand on top of yours to stop it from turning. 

“I have four minutes and thirty seconds,” he says, causing you to roll your eyes. “A bet that I couldn’t get a girl and snog her. I accepted because Sirius was being rude. Stupid, I know. But please, please, please believe me when I say the bet stopped being relevant the moment you agreed that I could keep you company in the library while you worked on your Potions essay. I wasn’t doing it just to snog you and prove to the boys that I really could get a girl.”

“And I should believe you because?”

“Because if it was just for a bet, I would’ve kissed you when we got back from Hogsmeade the first time. I would’ve snogged you in front of Andrew and the boys. Just to prove that I could do it. I would’ve been done.” He pauses, trying to read the expression on your face. “I’ve been spending so much time with you because I genuinely like you so much. I like being your boyfriend. I like being around you. I like making you smile. I like making you laugh. Yes, I’d like to snog you very much. But not for a bet. I want to snog you to feel your lips against mine. I like studying with you, I like paying for your butterbeers. I like walking around with you. I like when you hang out with my friends. I’d like to hang out with your friends.” 

He pauses his ramblings to catch his breath briefly.

“That is, if you’ll forgive me for even partaking in this stupid goddamn bet. And you somehow convince your friends to forgive me too.”

You cross your arms and lean against the doorframe. You take in Remus’ appearance. You’re used to him looking perpetually tired, but he looks exhausted, so much worse for wear than usual. His hair is a mess and clothes uncharacteristically rumpled. His expression is so genuine and sad, practically begging you to understand how much he cares for you.  

“Please. I know you’re more than a bet. So much more. The only good thing about the bet is that it actually got me to get close to you.”

“I’ll forgive you under one condition,” you say.

His face lights up and he takes a step toward you. 

“Anything. You name it and it’s done.”

You smirk. “When you do snog me, please do it in front of Lark. A little revenge on that sorry bastard.”

Remus smiles widely and nods. Then he places a gentle kiss on your lips. It only lasts a second, over as soon as it began. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” He gives you an identical kiss. “One snog in front of Lark coming up.”

[dollyichi]

LOPPED EAR BUNNY . . . nagi seishiro x f ! reader. m—dni. 2.1k words ⋮ unprotected / pulling out / overstim but pretty vanilla / established relationship / not proofread just hit post!

after getting on all the rides you wanted to go on, you and nagi were walking hand in hand across the game booths. it took a little convincing for this date since it wasn’t necessarily both your thing, but you wanted to try something new.

you scanned the area. lots of families and couples on their dates playing the games and trying to win the prizes.

one booth already caught your eye. nagi always has his eyes on you, so he already knew what you wanted the moment you started to take slower steps and when you’ve gotten quiet.

“which one do you want?” nagi asks, looking at the rows of stuff toys in the carnival booth as he brought you both closer. there were a variety of toys, some are figurines, squishy toys, and plushies. hanged on the wall from smaller ones to the bigger ones.

the booth you were in has a simple ball toss game. you think it was probably rigged, knowing how this carnival was just a small one in your neighborhood. you think that the cups were actually glued together and on the table to prevent anyone from getting the big prize. squirting your eyes to see if there was any visible residue of glue.

too bad they underestimated your boyfriend who’d do anything to make that smile on your face bigger. “i think the bunny’s cute.” you point. he looks at it, then back at you.

“looks like you.” he says, “in a cute dress too.” and he immediately leaves your side to get a try.

“how do i win the bunny up there?” nagi says. they look at him with a smile before he goes closer, already feeling intimidated. you don’t blame them though, his head’s almost hitting the roof of the booth. “h-hi sir! that’s one of our big prizes! if you successfully knock down all three towers, we’ll let you claim it!”

he probably thinks it was rigged too.

“m’kay.” taking out his wallet to pay and the person manning the booth gives him three balls, then stands to the side. you stand back knowing nagi’s too strong without even trying too hard.

you counted in your head while he got ready. nagi’s got a tight grip on each one.

one, two, three!

each of nagi’s throws hit the cups with a bang. the booth manager’s eye twitches from the shock, visibly in a panic as he looks at each cup that has fallen on the concrete floor. you clap eagerly hugging him from the side while he claimed the plushie. it’s even bigger up close, the tips of its soft paws reaching your knees.

“thank you thank you! i love you!” he hands it over to you, leaning down with his cheek close to your face. you beamed, kissing his cheek and hugging the bunny close. “let’s get home.” you say with a sheepish smile, intertwining your hands while your arm carries the toy.

nagi smiles watching you and the bunny while its lopped ears bounced as you skipped beside him.

reaching your shared flat you immediately plop down on the bed, cuddling with the bunny he won for you. “hmph.” he says, closing the door. pushing you both to the side to get more space on the bed. “you like that bunny more than me now?” he says wrapping an arm around your waist. his chin is on your shoulder while draping his leg on yours, mimicking the way you were hugging the plushie.

you giggle, turning to him to plant a soft peck on his nose. “nuh-uh! i’m just really happy you got this for me. looked real hot doing it too.”

“yeah?” nagi says, kissing in the blade of your shoulder. “didn’t even try that hard.” he continues to leave kisses on you. moving further up each time. you flutter your eyes close, snuggling between him and the plushie.

you stay like that for a bit, sandwiched in between and you feel like you could fall asleep. the ac was so cold and the night was about to come. nagi peppering you with kisses and you figured he’s also getting sleepy.

well, you’re wrong.

nagi loves you with his whole heart but finds it hard to communicate. to him actions matter the most to let you understand. and so his mouth lingers, teasingly poking the tips of his tongue and licking you. you giggle at your boyfriend feeling ticklish.

you always end up bringing a lot of emotions to his plate that he can’t seem to handle. his love for you is always overflowing that he can’t control, and you always reciprocated perfectly when he showed you how he felt.

the strap of your dress falls down to the side. giving nagi more access to kiss you, more space to leave his marks. you whimper when you feel his hand tracing circles in your inner thigh. inching upwards and pressing on your clothed clit.

“s-sei…” he’s leaving small bites on you causing you to instinctively arch your back.

you look at him, letting go of the bunny to face him. nagi immediately sighs, tilting his head to the side. you’re so pretty to him. the pretty blush you put on is still there, your lashes fluttering that sent butterflies to his stomach. as if his body hand a mind of his own, focused on your lips, kissing you so suddenly with so much care.

it didn’t take long before it got messy. gasping in his mouth while he’s sucking on your bottom lip. his tongue moving against yours and suddenly you’re so weak you eyes flutter. he’s already bunching up your dress, sitting up slightly and you chased his lips. trying to continue the kiss that had strings of spit when he moves his head to kiss your deeper.

moving your hips so you could feel some type of friction from his thumb resting on your panties.

nagi pulls away so he could take off his shirt, wiping the mess on your lips. you didn’t know what he was thinking, grabbing the bunny and having you hug it. “don’t want this bunny covered in spit right?”

you rest your head on the plushie’s soft chest and wait for him.

nagi felt shivers down his spine at the visual alone. he couldn’t help but grin. you with teary eyes, lips puffy with your crumpled dress to top it off. “damn pretty.” he mumbles, moving your skirt up to remove your panties.

you could feel how sticky it was from how slow he removed it. “h-hahh so wet just from that?” he brings your panties closer to his face, and he’s already towering over you. letting you see the damp part on your cotton panties. you scrunch your nose, eyebrows crossed as you grow impatient. “don’t take too long…” you say, trying to reach for him with one hand.

you think it’s cute that nagi’s riled up. it wasn’t always like this but today was particularly a good day. he wanted to spoil you extra today for how cute you were. recalling how excited you were the other to invite him on this date. chirping about how it’d be a nice thing to try every once in a while.

he takes your wrist and places your hand on the back of his neck. he’s so big he’s towering over both you and the plush.

nagi’s lips are on yours again, pushing up the skirt of your dress. feeling his fingers slide along your folds. you gasp out when he starts palming your clit. swift circular motions as his fingers teased your hole. you’re so wet his fingertips are already itching to get in.

they enter swiftly, stretching you out and you’re pulling him closer. you’re gasping against his tongue—you knew you were close. “d-don’t want.” was what you managed to say. nagi’s fingers stills inside you.

“don’t want what?” his voice is so teasing, it only make you whine. but he already knew what you wanted. unbuttoning his jeans and sliding off along his boxers. cock springing out with his pretty pink tip already leaking with pre.

you bite your lip when he lines his cock along your entrance. dragging it along your cunt. “ready baby?”

he slowly enters, even just the tip was sending you over the edge. “hah… fuck…” nagi’s breathing heavily when he feels you clenching on him. “fucking tight.” he mutters.

“wait wait something’s- something’s-“ you’re pushing him away but you didn’t have the strength. “s-sei- i-i can’t! wait!” you’re a stuttering moaning mess the moment he bottoms out.

you’re so wet you could hear your cunt gushing around his cock. and you’re no longer sure what’s going on. nagi coos at you for a moment before moving. not too fast, not too slow. so consistent with his thrusts he’s fucking you through your orgasm so well.

you’re so sensitive it hurt so bad. everything felt hot. squirming and twitching under him when you’re feeling everything too much from your high.

“you love me that much that you came from me putting it in?” he takes your thighs and places them on his waist. fastening the pace. you’re practically squeezing the plushie, burying your face onto it while he fucked you.

you’re whining out his name and he couldn’t pay too much attention on what you’re trying to say. words always broken and cut off by your own moans, so unintelligible but he already knew how much you’re enjoying it from your pussy tightening on him.

you feel him getting harder inside you, twitching against your walls. that’s all because you’re so cute holding onto his gift just for you. taking his cock like such a good girl and repaying him for his ‘hard work.’

“hug her tightly for me baby.”

the room is filled with the sounds of your thighs hitting against each other and creams from the bed. every whine of yours is followed by his grunts. he’s on his knees, wrapping your legs around his waist. fucking you so good you started to reach for him with one of your hands.

he moves down to plant a kiss on your lips. your hand is on the back of neck, putting your foreheads together.

his eyes are on his cock fucking your pussy. with blurry eyes you look to where he was, seeing how you both connect is sending you over the edge again.

“one more for me, cum on me.” your moans build up—pitch getting higher and higher while you bucked your hips.

always so eager to let him fuck you, moves moving like you’re hopping just like a bunny.

you’re still cumming, calling him each time until you finally felt that sweet release. “bit more…” he says, chasing his own high before pulling out. jerking himself off and letting the strings of his cum fall on your tummy.

you lick your lips before clicking your tongue. one of your hands collecting his seed on your tummy before licking it off your finger tips. looking directly at him when you do.

nagi gulps, squinting his eyes with short heavy breaths. trying not to get hard again but he knew he’s already twitching just from seeing that.

got him already thinking of another round but he knew you were so tired from today. ended up deciding that you both needed a nap first.

you both pant, trying to catch your breaths. nagi plops to your side, the bed creaking slightly from the impact.

he wouldn’t rest just yet, “have to clean you up…” reaching for the tissues on the bed side table to wipe you up. making sure you weren’t sticky anymore.

you finally let go of the plush, setting it to the side and snuggled up to your boyfriend. but he stands up to grab the plushie, taking a double look to make sure it was all clean for you, and then places it on your chair. “sorry but i want you to myself now.” he says while puffing his cheeks. you give him a gummy smile, not having the energy to laugh.

he lays back down to cuddle you. and you’re planting kisses all over his face.

you didn’t even realize that you fell asleep. waking up and you’re still wrapped in his arms. he’s sleeping so soundly with only his boxers on. you chuckle when you hear him snoring softly.

you saw he changed your clothes for you to be more comfy. it made your heart skip a beat, melting further into his warmth.

“i love you seishiro.” you whisper, before drifting back to sleep. not knowing he was half-awake, and heard you. giving you a small kiss and bringing you closer. he chuckles to himself when he looks at your face, nose twitching in your sleep.

“like a bunny.”

do not copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost my works

note : i love him so much i want to fuck him while he’s in a rilakkuma hoodie

[verstappenf1lecccc]

hi love! can you write a dark lando (maybe mafia, up to u) smutty fic with a sweet innocent reader who is redbulls first driver. corruption kink is appreciated but you dont have to if you dont want to. thanks love!

A Dangerous Game

i do not know how to write smut at all. this is my first and perhaps only attempt.

The night was thick with tension, the kind of weight that clung to the air when power and danger were at play.

The city, glittering under the veil of neon lights, was a world you weren’t supposed to be a part of. But here you were, Red Bull’s prized driver, standing at the edge of something much darker than any race track.

Lando Norris had always been a mystery to you. On the surface, he was the charming young driver with an infectious smile, the one who could win over anyone with a few words. But beneath that veneer, there was something else—a cold, calculating edge that hinted at a life of secrets and blood.

You knew what he was capable of, but you had never imagined that you would be swept into his world.

It started innocently enough.

A brief encounter at a race afterparty, a whispered conversation between the two of you when your paths crossed. It was easy to forget that this man wasn’t like the others.

That his charm wasn’t just a tool—it was a weapon.

But even as you felt yourself drawn to him, something inside of you screamed to be cautious.

The mafia world wasn’t one that let go of people easily.

The music throbbed in the background as you found yourself at the center of attention, the Red Bull team celebrating a victory.

Lando was there too, his presence inescapable. He leaned against the bar, his eyes never straying too far from you.

You could feel them on you, the intensity of his gaze sending an unexpected shiver down your spine.

Finally, he approached.

“Can I buy you a drink?” His voice was smooth, almost too smooth, and his lips curled into a devilish smile that sent a surge of heat straight to your core.

You hesitated, a strange tension building in your chest. “What’s the catch?”

Lando chuckled, stepping closer. “No catch. I just like making deals with the right people.”

His eyes darkened, the playful façade slipping for a moment as his gaze swept over you. “And I think you’re someone who understands the value of a deal.”

You didn’t want to admit it, but the words he spoke tugged at something inside you.

You were a driver, someone who thrived on risk, someone who knew how to navigate danger.

But Lando, with his half-smile and dangerous aura, was a risk unlike any other.

“Alright,” you finally said, stepping forward.

“One drink.”

The moment your fingers brushed the glass he handed you, you could feel the shift in the air.

It wasn’t just the alcohol; it was the unspoken promise in his eyes.

As the night wore on, the conversation became less about racing and more about…everything else.

Lando’s words were layered with something darker, more compelling.

You knew you were walking a fine line, but you couldn’t pull away.

“I know what you’re thinking,” he said low, his lips brushing against your ear as you leaned into the bar, close enough that his breath sent tingles down your neck.

“You’re wondering how deep this rabbit hole goes.

But I can assure you, once you’re in, there’s no way out.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say. The words hung between you like a challenge, a promise, and a warning all at once.

His fingers grazed your wrist, just enough to send a spark of heat through your body. “I’ve seen what you can do on the track. But here, it’s a different kind of race.”

You met his gaze, searching for any hint of vulnerability, but there was none.

Lando was a man who thrived on control, and he was determined to pull you into his world, whether you were ready or not.

The next few weeks blurred into a haze of late-night meetings and whispered conversations. Every time you saw Lando, the pull between you grew stronger.

The way his hands would brush against yours, the fleeting moments when his eyes would darken with unspoken intent—it was impossible to ignore.

But the deeper you got into his world, the more you understood the danger that came with it. His connections, the dark web of deals and threats that kept him in power, were not things to take lightly.

And yet, you couldn’t seem to pull away.

One evening, as you entered a discreet underground club—a place you’d never imagine stepping into—you found Lando waiting for you in a private booth.

The dim lighting only accentuated the tension in the room. His gaze was fixed on you, not a hint of hesitation in his eyes.

The mafia life was something you couldn’t understand fully, but you knew one thing: it was intoxicating.

“You look out of place here,” he murmured, eyes scanning your outfit—a little too innocent for this kind of crowd.

“Maybe I like being out of place,” you shot back, heart pounding as you took a seat across from him.

Lando’s lips twitched into a smile. “Careful, sweetheart. You keep playing with fire, and one day, you’ll get burned.”

The air between you crackled with something primal. Something dangerous. But you didn’t care. You wanted to play this game.

And Lando? He was a master at it.

That night, you found yourself alone with him in one of the back rooms, the heavy scent of danger lingering in the air.

He didn’t need to say a word to make it clear what he wanted. Lando was a man who took what he wanted—no questions, no hesitation. And as his lips found yours, you felt your resolve shatter.

You had always been in control on the track, always aware of the stakes. But with Lando, the game had changed. You were no longer the one in control. You were the prey, and he was the predator.

His touch was possessive, hungry, and you couldn’t bring yourself to pull away.

Every brush of his fingers sent sparks through your body, igniting something inside you that you had never felt before.

As Red Bull’s first driver, you were used to the limelight, the pressure, the expectations. But tonight… tonight felt different.

Tonight, you were following Lando Norris, the man whose reputation for coldness and ruthlessness ran as deep as the shadows he kept.

“You’ve been so innocent, so pure. I think it’s time I corrupted you. Show you what the real world is like… where power and desire rule everything.”

You shivered, feeling both a sense of dread and excitement stir within you. His words were like a drug, dangerous but irresistible.

You tried to remind yourself that you were Red Bull’s first driver, that you had goals, a future. But every time Lando looked at you, those thoughts seemed to fade, replaced by a hunger you couldn’t explain.

your legs weak beneath you as if your body knew exactly where this was going.

The soft click of your heels echoed in the empty space as you trailed behind him, your heart pounding with anticipation.

He led you into a private elevator that descended deep into the heart of the city.

It was quiet, too quiet. And in that silence, Lando’s gaze never left you, his eyes intense, watching you like a hawk.

The elevator doors opened, revealing a lavish, dimly lit room that looked like something out of a nightmare. Velvet curtains lined the walls, and candles flickered on every surface, casting long shadows that seemed to stretch toward you. A heavy scent of expensive cologne mixed with something darker in the air.

You froze. “Lando… what is this?”

“This is where you’ll learn what it means to belong to me,” he said softly, his voice a low, dangerous whisper. “No more pretending, sweetheart. You’ve been playing the innocent driver for too long. It’s time for you to understand who really holds the power here.”

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you, his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you close. You could feel the heat of his body against yours, the tension in the air thick enough to suffocate you. His other hand cupped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

Lando’s lips hovered just above yours, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re mine now,” he whispered. “And tonight, I’m going to make sure you understand exactly what that means.”

His lips crashed against yours, hungry, desperate, as if he’d been waiting for this moment for a long time.

His kiss was nothing like the innocent ones you were used to. It was rough, demanding, his tongue probing your mouth with an authority that made your knees weak. His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, and before you could protest, he was lifting you up effortlessly, carrying you.

Later, as you lay next to him in the dim glow of the room, you realized something you hadn’t expected. You were no longer just the innocent driver from Red Bull. You had crossed a line, and now, there was no turning back.

Lando’s world was your world now. And it was darker, more dangerous, and more thrilling than anything you had ever known.

But there was a price. And sooner or later, you would pay it.

[chaotic-mystery]

Code Red | Chapter Eleven: I Only See Daylight

Pairing: No outbreak AU dbf!Joel Miller x f!OC (told in 2nd POV)

Summary: You're back in Texas after going on vacation with Joel and needless to say, shit hits the fan.

Content Warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI. Enemies to lovers, dads best friend Joel, age gap (readers in her twenties and Joel is in his forties), slow burn, written in 2nd POV, no use of y/n, broken father/daughter relationship, daddy issues, dd/lg relationship dynamic, serious conversations about kid(s), allusions to sex & taking photos during sex, swearing, mentions of drinking, reader smokes & sometimes Joel, A new song introduced to the universe!, hidden relationship, Joel wanting to fight your dad, the start of everything falling apart. Texts shared between reader & Joel.

Authors Note: Here we are. I know I haven't touched this story since May 14th and I'm not done with them quite yet. I plan to write ahead moving forward so I don't leave anyone on a cliffhanger. This is 100000% not beta'd (I didn't want to burden anybody) so the mistakes are all moi. There's little eggs hidden of when this was written and I hope you giggle when you catch them. Thank you if you're still reading their story, I don't plan on leaving again <3

|| wc: 4.8K || divider by @/anitalenia || previous chapter || series masterlist || main masterlist ||

It had been a few days since that night Sharon came by and woke you up at two in the morning, sticking her nose in your business about Joel. 

She was only worried about your dad finding out and how he would react, she said she didn’t tell your mom and nothing seemed different when you went over to her house to drive into town to shop, but it was eating away at you if she was actually putting on a show just like you had been. 

Sharon warned you to be safe and reminded you she was there if you needed anything but the way she was going about this worried you. She failed to mention how you should break it to  Sarah and you hadn’t even begun to think about how to have that conversation with her. Do you just…show up on the porch one day and tell her you’ve been seeing her dad for almost the past year?

 Scratch that, that’s a terrible idea. It was a conversation to be had with Joel and the last thing you wanted was to feel like you were replacing her as the number one woman in his life. All you ever dealt with as a kid was your dads girlfriends making it feel like a competition for who he loved the most and unfortunately you were never a first place winner. 

“Honey? Do you like this?” Your mom’s voice becomes clearer as you’re once again yanked from the seat inside your thoughts to the present time. 

The bright green hoodie she was holding up was so bright you damn near needed sunglasses just to lay eyes on it. Every muscle in your face fights to make a disgusted look but knowing your mom would be upset, you keep a straight face and quickly scan the metal racks surrounding you for a different option to counter it. Like a magnet, the pink hoodie with chunky writing on the back nearly jumps off the hanger and into your arms. 

“I think this one is a little more me, you think?” 

She nods her head and takes it from you, throwing it over her bent arm in front of her body. She told you to pick out something from the souvenir shop and she’d pay for it, also meaning to find something for Joel. What could he possibly want from here? He wasn’t really a hoodie kind of guy, especially not down in Texas when he was outside practically all the time. He had more than enough trucker hats to last him the rest of his life. 

“So tell me more about Joel, sweetheart, what’s his normal life like?” 

“Well, he’s my boss but that happened after we started dating. Umm, I mean he’s my neighbor which was also before we started dating, promise I didn’t move closer to him just because we’re together.”

Your mom nods with a small smile, her face relaxing as you soothe her mind in knowing she taught you well not to move so fast with someone you hardly know.

“He um, he’s got a kid..” you scratch your head and spin around to look at the clothes behind you, her eyes burning into the back of your skull. “..it’s really not that big of a deal, I don’t think. I haven’t really met her yet. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to replace her mom or take her dad from her.” The quiver in your voice surprises you both and your mom spins you back around, rubbing your arm caringly. 

You were terrified, truthfully. Telling Sarah about your relationship scared the shit out of you. Even thinking about Joel asking you to be responsible with Sarah scared the life from you. 

“Mommy, I’m so scared. What if she doesn’t like me and he breaks up with me? I mean, I wouldn’t want him to stay with me if she’s unhappy about it. I just…I love him.” Your voice was just above a whisper and the words felt as if they were slicing your throat on the way out. 

She says nothing as her lips pursed together into a frown and pulls you into her arms, hugging you tightly. Once more you felt like a little girl needing the comfort of your mother when things got tough. 

“You’ll be okay, I know it. Listen to me-” her hands grip your face to keep eye contact with you before she continues. “-you know better than anyone what that feels like and you’d do anything to protect that little girl, even if that means not seeing him anymore. You don’t have it in you to be that cruel. Just be yourself and she’ll see how happy you make him.”

Hearing testaments about your character always made you feel weird inside. It was never easy hearing how other people see you, especially when it’s positive. You look at her and she smiles assuringly before kissing the top of your forehead.

“Come on, let’s find something for Sarah.”

_

Holding onto the little beaded keychain in your hand, your mom pulls up to the quaint cabin you unfortunately had to say goodbye to tomorrow and she rubs your arm softly. 

“You’ll be okay, sweetheart. Just be honest with him about your feelings with this. It’s all valid.” 

You breathe in deeply and release the air out of your mouth, nodding at her. 

“I’ll be fine, I just need to go see him. I love you, I’ll stop by on the way to the airport.” 

You hated goodbyes. So it wasn’t saying goodbye to her, it was just telling her you’d see her later. You kiss her cheek and grab your bag of goodies from between your legs on the floor before getting out, standing out of the way so she could pull off. Jiggling the plastic bag in your hand nervously, you dig around in your purse until you feel the smooth carton of cigarettes and lighter clanking around inside.

The gray flint rubs against the pad of your thumb as you ignite the cigarette held between your lips, walking up to the small wooden porch to sit in the white rocking chair under the window. Too many thoughts about Sarah and all the ways she could react flood your thoughts again as you take a big drag to erase it all. Joel pushes the screen door open just enough to slip through and he nudges your knee gently. 

“Hungry? Made BLT sandwiches if you want one.” Joel presses a kiss to your cheek before taking the cigarette from between your fingers and taking a drag. 

“Tempting, maybe. I got you something from town, though!” You try to make it seem like you weren’t bothered by anything but he could read you like a goddamn book.

You were his favorite one.

His eyes fell to the bright blue shirt you were pulling out of the plastic bag, chuckling to himself before he even got to see the design. You finally get it out and flip it towards him so Joel could see what you picked out for him. 

“You’ve gotta be shittin’ me. This is awesome.” 

Joel’s fingers trace over the goofy design of the state drawn as an old fashioned cartoon with feet holding it up and bright yellow letters across the top. He stares at the piece of clothing for longer than normal, continuously rubbing over the painted letters. The thought of you buying it for him, spending the time to find something he would wear, it meant a lot to him and it was written all over his face. 

“Thank you, baby. I love it.”

Joel sets it in the chair next to you and places both hands on either side of your chair, leaning down until he’s eye level with you. 

“My pretty girl, what’re you thinkin’ about in here?” As he finishes saying his sentence he bumps his forehead into yours, resting them together comfortably. 

Joel turns his face to the side for a moment to take another drag of the shared cigarette and he blows the smoke quickly to return back in position. Your eyes close as you relax against his touch, the slight breeze rustling against the trees and drowning out the sound of your mind screaming at you. The dooming thoughts of Sarah knowing about this could wait, you were here with the man of your dreams, having the time of your life and it was the last night before you had to unfortunately return to Texas and go back to hiding something you were so proud of. 

“I just wish we could run away somewhere where we don't have to hide our relationship. Where I can walk into the grocery store with you and not worry about still holding your hand, wondering if someone who knows my dad is gonna turn the corner and see it. I just- I want to love you loudly like you deserve. You aren’t meant to be a secret.”

Joel’s right hand rests on your crossed leg, rubbing your calf to ease you. 

“I’ll give you everything you could ever want and more, I swear it. How much time do I have to give it to you, though?” 

“I’ve got enough time for you, Miller. Not too long though, I’m not a patient person, ya know.” 

The thought of waiting an eternity for Joel Miller didn’t sound so bad, at least not to you. 

Every now and then you would get this feeling in your stomach thinking about Joel and how much you really did care for him and love him. It wasn’t a feeling you could quite pinpoint. The depth of sadness would overcome you just at the idea of losing him, knowing one day his footsteps wouldn’t grace this earth anymore. It was always sitting in the back of your mind, poking at you to love whatever time you got with him, because one day there wasn’t going to be this. 

“I love you, you know that?” Joel asks and kisses your lips before you can answer. 

The kiss quickly turns passionate and he backs up with your lips still glued to his, your body carrying you with every step he takes into the house. Joel leads you to the bedroom and tosses you on the bed lovingly, admiring the way your beautiful eyes glowed in the golden ray of sunlight seeping through the flowy curtains. 

“Let’s enjoy our last night here, yeah?” 

You grab your camera from the pocket of your sundress and grin at Joel, the gears turning inside his mind as he catches on. 

“To our last night.” 

_

Running on a few hours of sleep and the coffee not doing its job in your body, you yawn again as your Uber pulls up to your moms house. This was the part you were dreading the most, seeing your mom torn up that you’re leaving again. 

“Cmon, Mom, I gotta get going!” The fake happy tone was so apparent but it was easier to keep her up in good spirits if you pretended to be okay. 

Your mom comes around the corner from the kitchen, her hand towel tossed over her shoulder as she always did when she was doing dishes. She wipes her hands dry and hugs you so tight it feels like your eyes are going to pop out. 

“I love you so much, mommy. I’ll call you when I get back to Texas and I’m home safe, I swear it.” Fuck, and just like that, the quiver in your voice makes you start to break and before you can collect yourself, tears slipping from your eyes.

“I love you more, my baby. Have a safe flight, okay? Who knows, maybe I’ll come see you for the holidays in a few months.” She laughs to keep herself from crying but it only goes so far before you can feel her body jolt with every sob. 

The tight grip of her arms around your neck makes you giggle between your tears and she squeezes you once more before letting you go, standing up straight to get a good look at you before letting you leave her again and go spread your wings back to your home. 

“Come on, you’ve got a plane to catch!” 

You take her hand in yours and walk to your Uber, Joel getting out immediately to give her a hug goodbye. As you circle around the back of the car to get inside, you can’t help but notice Joel and your mom having some sort of quiet conversation you weren’t privy to. Swallowing dryly and wanting so bad to know what they were talking about, you climbed into the backseat of the car to give them privacy. Though it bothered you enough to dig your fingernail into the side of your thumb, you knew deep down it wasn’t anything bad they were sharing back and forth. 

Joel opens the door before finishing his goodbye to your mom. 

“Bye, we’ll see you soon!” He grins and gets inside the car, buckling up before waving to her as your driver starts to pull off. There was no shot in hell you could look at her as you drove away, not if you wanted to get to the airport with minimal tears.

Joel intertwined his fingers in yours and kisses the top of your hand to console you, take your mind off the fact you just left your mom again. 

It felt different this time, leaving her house. When you first left almost a year ago, you were beside yourself and so confused about what to do with your life, thinking you’d be making the right choice to chase your dad for one last shot at something with him, anything.

But, here you were now, hand in hand with the asshole you didn’t mean to fall for, crying over the two weeks you spent with him and your mom, watching him get to know her and love her the way you do. 

“Here, take this.” Joel holds out his wired headphone and you place it in your right ear, waiting to hear the music start.

All of the anxiety, love, fearfulness, joy, everything starts to mix together as the lyrics come over the stringed instrument.

Woah, my love, my darling

I've hungered for your touch

A long, lonely time

And time goes by so slowly

And time can do so much

Your tears well in your eyes until you can feel them about to fall, causing you to turn your head to look out the window, not wanting Joel to know you were crying. 

You had to give it to him though, playing the Righteous Brothers was such a Joel move and yet, you never saw it coming. 

Your heartbeat speeds up and it’s like you could feel the blood coursing your veins, the impending doom of not knowing how anything was going to be once you returned to Texas was going to send your body into overdrive. 

-

It was close to seven by the time you and Joel got back home, the streetlights glowing that familiar orange light at the beginning of your block as the sun started to go down behind the trees ahead of you. His hand rests comfortably on your thigh, rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your sweatpants as you two softly sing along to the radio playing a song from Queen, another fitting song for the moment. 

Under Pressure. 

As Joel’s pulling in front of your houses, the sheer panic of seeing your dads vehicle in Joel’s driveway sends your anxiety through the roof, your legs instantly unfolding from the passenger seat to sit straight up, trying to make it not look like what it was. 

“Did you know he was going to be here? What the fuck is he doing here?” 

“Uhhh, I don’t know why he’s here, baby. Just stay calm, okay? I got this.” Joel winks at you and turns the truck off, getting out to see what your dad wants. You sit there for a moment and contemplate sitting still until he leaves but who knows how long that would be. Swallowing harshly, you get out and stretch before you make your way to where your dad and Joel were standing at the end of the driveway. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Where’ve you been?” 

“Michigan, I went to go see mom” you say bluntly as you take your suitcases out of Joel’s truck in a bit of a rush, trying not to let Joel’s bags be seen. Your dad takes a puff of his cigarette and you can hear the snicker from him as a response to your business in Michigan. 

“And Joel came to get you? What did you bribe him with?” The dig at the both of you causes your brows to knit together in confusion at what he was trying to get at. 

“She didn’t bribe me with anything, asshat. She’s a good girl, she just couldn’t get a reliable friend to come get her, that’s all.” 

What your dad couldn’t see was Joel’s fist behind his back, opening and closing slowly to to calm himself down and not stick your dad right in his mouth for speaking about you that way. One day he would make him see you as a person and not some doormat he can walk all over, but it wasn’t going to happen today. Joel was too exhausted and worn out to be arrested.  

Your dad’s face changes when Joel sticks up for you and he clears his throat before flicking his cigarette butt into the street and tucking his beefy hands in his front pockets. 

“I know, I’m just messin’.”

“Well, um…thanks for coming to get me Joel. I appreciate it.” You hold out your hand for a handshake just to see if he takes the bait. The corner of his mouth turns up just enough for you to notice and falls back into place as he holds out his hand, shaking yours firmly. 

He takes one last glance at you before you take your bags and walk to your house, your face warm to the touch with the mixture of embarrassment and the need to walk right back up to him and kiss him the exact way you had been in public for the last two weeks. 

But you couldn’t. 

He wasn’t yours until he wanted to go public. 

Once you get inside and drop the bags off your shoulders to the floor, you tug your phone out of the pocket on your purse. 

8:11 PM [you]: I Miss you :( Come over when he’s gone?

8:24 PM [Joel]: I miss you too sweetheart. He just needs some tools, guess he’s setting up for a pool party tomorrow? Leave your bedroom lamp on if you want me to come by when he’s done. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite from him ;)

8:31 PM [you]: Aye aye, sir. 

You set your phone down on the counter before you drag the luggage bags upstairs to the dimly lit bedroom you’ve missed so dearly. The piles of clothes you left on the floor pad your footsteps as you try to find the lightswitch on the wall, lighting up the room to see just how disastrous you left it. 

It needed a good clean and it was on your agenda for tomorrow, for now you’re too tired to do anything besides rot on your couch and get caught up on Love Island, seeing how you missed the first couple of episodes while you were away. 

Rubbing the back of your neck while you scan the room, the sadness starts to settle in that you miss Joel. 

You were independent, sure, but being so close the past two weeks without having to hide with stolen glances and tender brushes of your hands behind the backs of everyone was really starting to get to you. 

Why did he have to be your dad’s best friend?

-

The TV drowned out your thoughts long enough to cause you to fall asleep on the living room sofa, attempting to wait for Joel to return. You reach down and grab your phone off the floor that had fallen a little while ago, opening it up to the text thread between you and Joel. 

8:30 PM [you]: Oh? Maybe if you’re lucky you’ll get an invite ;)

9:02 PM [you]: Are you almost done? I wanna cuddle.

9:44 PM [you]: You’re missing a really good episode of Love Island. Remind me to get you a pair of overalls. 

The last message you sent was a half hour ago and still response. You get up and walk into your kitchen, peeking out the window that faced Joel’s house. The lights downstairs were on, that was the most you could see. No shadows, nothing. Wondering where they were, you put on your shoes and walk out to your car, clutching the throw blanket draped over your shoulders as if it were a cape.

You just came outside to grab something from your car, at least that was the story you were sticking with if you got busted by anyone. Opening the driver's side door and looking around, you see Joel’s garage door open and the two of them sitting in lawn chairs in the middle of the room, a few beer cans at Joel’s feet. So this is where he’s been the last two hours? 

You grab a tube of lip balm from the cup holder and close the door firmly, going back inside the house before you were spotted. With your back against the front door, you slide off your shoes and contemplate leaving the door unlocked for him. He didn’t have a key and you wanted him to spend the night, but he’d be more upset if you left it unlocked and fell asleep. 

Grabbing the deadbolt latch and locking the door, you sigh and walk back to the living room to pick up the mess you made. You fold the blanket back up and lay it across the back of the couch, grab your phone, and start making your way upstairs again. 

Sleep. You wanted to sleep. 

The glow from your lamp in the corner by the window illuminated just enough to let you see a clear path to your bed. Stopping to dig out your camera from your bag, you grab it and walk over to your bed. The wind blows in your window and causes the lace curtain to touch your leg, making you turn around to look outside once more before turning off the lamp and crawling into your bed. 

You turn on your camera and look through the last two weeks of your life and the creeping melancholia comes over you. Photos of Joel in the ice cream parlor, the two of you playing cards with your mom, little moments you’ll have forever. He hated being in photos when you first met him, now he couldn’t resist smiling as big as he could when your camera was out. 

It was a little past ten when you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand behind you. Too tired to answer it or to even move, you settle down into your bed further until you fall asleep.

10:21 PM [Joel]: I’m sorry sweetheart. Didn’t know he’d be over that long. Sweet dreams. Proud you locked the front door. Love you. 

The message was the second thing you woke up to this morning. The first thing was Joel on your front porch with a bag from the grocery store with breakfast ingredients inside. He kissed your cheek after making his way to the kitchen. Hours after he made you two breakfast, you got dressed for the day. 

“Forgot to tell you, I did get invited to your dads pool party. He said he’d text you about it.” 

Joel wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you against him gently while you adjust your necklace. His chin rests in the crook of your neck and looks at you through the mirror in front of you. 

“He won’t. I could just show up and crash the party though.” 

“It would make it so much better, I’ll tell you that right now, baby. We should probably go separately though. Best we lay low for a while.”

Lay low for a while. Right. 

Joel turns you around and cups your face. “Don’t give me that look, that’s not fair.” 

You stop pouting and groan loudly before putting your forehead on his chest. Joel kisses your head and stands you straight up, kissing your cheeks until you smile. You kiss his lips passionately and stand still as he starts to make his exit. 

“No pouting today. It’s a pout free day. Let’s get rollin’ baby. I love you, I’ll see you there okay?” 

Joel taps the door frame as you nod and he grins, walking downstairs and you don’t move until you hear the front door close. 

-

The music booms out of the speakers in your dads backyard and it overpowers your car radio as you pull into the driveway, parked right next to Joel’s truck. 

You walk in the front door and head to the kitchen where you hear voices echoing off the walls. A few of your dad’s colleagues stand there chatting away with small plates of finger food in their hands, colorful solo cups scattered along the countertop with various types of drinks. 

The kitchen looked amazing. You hadn’t seen it completed since Joel finished working on it. He was damn good at his job and you felt so proud of him, even if I was unfortunately at your dads house. 

“Look what the cat dragged in!” The hair on your arms raises at the annoying tone of Janet. 

“Kitchen looks nice, sure hope you paid him well” you snark back, a little cattier than you anticipated. 

She smiles sarcastically and walks towards the room behind you. Joel strolls in with your dad in tow, tugging on Joel’s white t-shirt as they laugh and you can barely make out what they’re talking about. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Joel asks as he leans his hip against the counter and pours a drink for himself. 

You try to avoid looking him in the eyes as best as you can but you only last a few seconds. Right on cue Joel has that grin on his face, the one you only see when he’s with you. The one that holds back so many things he wishes to say. 

Janet walks back to the side of your dad like the good pet she prides herself to be, Joel standing next to you, not nearly as close as you’d like. 

“So, your dad tells me you went to Michigan? How’d you get so much time off already when you just started working?” Janet smirks and hides it with her cup, narrowing her eyes onto you. 

You ready up a loaded answer when Joel starts speaking before you. 

“I gave her the time off, no questions asked. I knew she missed her mom and felt she’d be more energized at work if she got some time from here. She does good work for me.” Dad and Janet couldn’t register his tone like you could. They were far too out of touch to see he was talking to them as if they were children. A subtle tone change was enough for you to notice his feelings on the question Janet had no business asking. 

“I stopped by your office the other day to give you the final check and Tommy said you were out of town?” 

Joel doesn’t shift his body once.

“Yeah, went to go get some wood out northeast.” His fake smile was enough to shut her up for now. It’s dancing too close for comfort and only she seems to notice the damning timelines. Your dad wasn’t putting the pieces fast enough like Janet was. 

“Can someone show me where the coolers are? I need a drink” you ask awkwardly, trying to remove yourself from this clusterfuck. 

Joel steps backwards and motions for you to go ahead in front of him. You set your bag down in the barstool right by the counter and walk outside trying to shake every bit of that conversation off of you. 

The lights were getting brighter as the sun continued to set, people mingling with you and Joel, talking about whatever. It was nice to hear other people’s life stories and how shitty their day-to-day life was. 

Janet comes out and makes a b-line towards you, your pink camera in her grubby hand. 

“You wanna explain this?” She asks in that smartass tone she always uses when she knows something you don’t. As she tosses the device to you, it lands screen faced up and on a photo of you and Joel on the beach your mom took. 

So much for laying low.

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

[cerisereids]

lil spicy blurb based off of this post from @parfaitblogs

warnings- 18+ mdni nsfw I don’t play, s1 spencer, girly!plussize!reader, she/her pronouns, no race descriptors, steamy make out session, dry humping, spencer moans™️, not proofread

a/n- dividers by @bohnerrific69! i was horny when i wrote this i guess bon appetit

“The psychology behind attraction is really fascinating,” Spencer Reid stutters out as you scoot closer to him along the edge of his bed, ever so slightly. How you got here, with Spencer Reid of all people, is baffling, but the gentle thrum through your lower belly spurs you further. Your wrists lock gingerly behind your coworker’s neck, as you bat your eyelashes up at him, “yeah?” you ask voice sweet as honey. You’re not at all interested as you inch just a bit closer.

Spencer swallows anxiously, his right hand resting delicately on your arm, “y-yeah, actually studies show that the brain releases dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin when people are physically close or intimate-“ your finger presses lightly into the plush of his pink lips, your gaze so charged that the electricity vibrates between the two of you.

“Spencer,” you whisper, “do you want this?”

He nods slightly, your finger still atop his lips. You lower it as you whisper once more, “then maybe we can stop talking about being close and intimate and just…do it?”

His eyes widen, as if he was shocked you’d want him like that. “R-really?” he squeaks, “with me? Y-you don’t have to, I understand if…” he continues to ramble off reason after reason why it would be okay if you don’t want to kiss him. You don’t think there will ever be a time in which you wouldn’t want to kiss him. And so you do.

Spencer’s lips press gently back into yours. It’s an innocent enough kiss to start, your lips meeting delicately, in an almost hesitant exploration of each other. The pit of your belly hums at the contact, and you take the next leap, scooting even closer on the edge of Spencer’s bed, His large hands shakily rise to hug your plush waist, thumbs gently stroking the dips and curves of your body. You hum lightly against his lips, opening your mouth slightly to capture his, deepening the kiss. His hands drop to your thighs, on display now thanks to your floral chiffon dress bunching up around the upper thigh. He rests his forehead against yours, panting heavily. Each warm exhale hits your lips, and your hands delicately cradle his face, your heart pounding against your chest. His eyes face downward, directly at your thighs, the way they mold under his squeezes and caresses. His breath picks up at the sight, and you can hear his own erratic heartbeat mix with yours, his cheeks painted with the cutest flushed tint.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers against your lips, his swollen ones ghosting over yours, tantalizing, teasing. Your cheeks burn with want as his face buries itself in your neck, placing gentle pressure the spot where your neck meets your shoulder.

“Oh,” you choke out, and Spencer clings to you, his arms traveling up your back to settle at the base of your neck, holding you close.

“There’s also many studies…” he huffs out between breaths, “on pheromones and what they can do to the human subconscious-“

“Spencer,” you nearly moan out, pulling him out from your neck, gripping smashing your lips to his once more. His lips are plump and soft as they move against yours, your heart racing with a burning sensation you’ve never felt with anyone else. He chokes out a moan of his own against your lips, and you swing both of your legs to rest on each side of his thighs, plopping your plush ass down onto his thighs.

His mouth drops open and he nearly whines at the contact. His hands sink into your soft skin as he pulls you closer, dragging your most sensitive parts against the strained fabric of his jeans. “Oh my God,” he groans through gritted teeth, his eyes squeezing shut as he continues to nearly devour your mouth. Your tongues graze ever so slightly as his mouth opens further, taking as much of you as he possibly can.

You rock your hips back and forth some more, as the ever growing burn in the pit of your stomach grows with the friction. The whimpers and moans that bounce off of his mouth into yours make your back arch as you press against him even harder, desperate to share as many inches of yourself as possible. A small string of spit connects your mouths as you break apart and kiss, and break apart and kiss. You begin to place small pecks to his lips, catching his big, brown, puppy dog eyes looking back at you, a haze of desire clouding his gaze. Your forehead rests against his as you take each other in, hearts pounding against each other, pants mixing.

“Can we do this all night?” Spencer breathes against your lips, tone innocent enough, but his eyes shone with a glint of rebellion that had you flopping backward onto his bed, pulling him on top of you.

[star2fishmeg]

heyyy :>> can i get an angst no. 107 with jack ?

Thank you for requesting <3

ANGST #107 “I can’t do this anymore. Sometimes…sometimes I need you and you’re just not there.”

📞 dialling…

Useless was too weak of a word to describe how she felt. Phone playing the voicemail tone she could lip sync off by heart, laying on the coffee table while she hung her head in her hands, tears smeared across her cheeks. 

Hey, it’s Jack. I can’t take your call right now so, uh, leave me a message and I’ll get back ASAP! 

Except he never did reply as soon as possible, ever. He barely saw her anymore as if she’d never existed at all. Y/n spent the nights she usually would be on a cute date with him, alone in front of the TV with a meal for one. It started as a meal for two, cooking for him but the more he didn’t show up, the less she bothered. She’d sometimes attend his games, but after his brother paid more attention to her, she stopped, opting to stay home and watch on the TV, maybe drop a text if they won but it wasn’t like she’d ever receive a reply. 

She ended the call, inhaling deeply and shakily before puny sobs echoed around her living room. Where did she go wrong? What did she do wrong? The sinking emptiness in her stomach consumed her, a numbness to an unsolved problem that couldn’t be solved and she wondered what Jack was running from, or what repulsed him so much that he couldn’t bring himself to step foot near her. So much for being his girlfriend, he wasn’t much of a boyfriend anymore at all. 

Tears came to a halt automatically with three knocks on the front door, the room falling into an eerie silence with nothing but the clock's ticking lurking in the background. She didn’t expect anyone at eight at night and she wasn’t expecting any deliveries either. Regardless, she approached, peering through the peephole and eyes widening. Her heart thumped in her chest and to her ears, stomach twisting uncomfortably and adrenaline clawing away at her. She could have been a coward and gone to bed, or she could move forward with the ball chained to her ankle. 

The door opened slowly, sunken eyes meeting vibrant blue. Jack pursed his lips, his voice hoarse either from hockey or crying, “...Can I come in?”

Y/n nodded, stepping aside and closing the door behind him, gaze following him as he shuffled into the living room, perching on the arm of her sofa. Folding her arms over her chest, she waited. Tear ducts throbbing, waiting to spill and her breathing hitched. He looked like he always did, with a backwards hat, hoodie, jeans, and a guest appearance of a guilty expression on his face. He wasn’t expecting to be let in, he wasn’t expecting her even to answer the door.

“So…I got your call, I was driving so I, uh, couldn’t pick up.” He mumbled, fiddling with his hoodie sleeves. He couldn’t meet her eyes; he didn’t deserve to bask in them like he used to. The woman who stared at him with stars in her eyes was dead and he killed her. 

“Mhm,” she hummed, nodding slowly, almost scoffing, “Were you driving the other times too?”

He knew that was going to come, he felt that arrow through his chest, a weighted feeling that made his cheeks flush. Shaking his head shamefully, his head dropped, and for the first time in a long time, tears welled in his eyes. Maybe it was shame, disappointment in himself but perhaps it was because she was crying, he couldn’t tell, he just felt guilt shaking him to his core.

“I’ve fucked this up…I know. Everyone’s reminded me and I, fuck,” he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “I know you won’t believe me, but I do love you. Princess, I need you more than anyone and-”

“Jack, I can’t do this anymore.” Her lip trembled, if he could neglect her once, what was stopping him from doing it again? Salty tears trickled down her cheeks, “Sometimes…sometimes I need you and you’re just not there. Where have you been? What did I do? I can’t do all this waiting and hoping that you’ll remember you have a girlfriend. I call, I text, fucks sake, you barely notice when I come to your games. Everyone else can do those simple gestures except you. Sometimes I wonder why we’re still together…” 

Jack stood up, swiftly stepping closer to her but resisting reaching out to touch her, he knew better than to give her affection she didn’t want in that moment. “Y/n, please, can we talk, please let me explain because I can. Not excuses, explanations, with feelings. I want to be with you, I know that I’m sure of that.”

Two sets of blurry eyes locked with each other, her arms crossed, his awkwardly stuffed in his pockets. It was such a shame that the longest conversation they’d had was one on the verge of the end, the last one they’d ever have. She could have told him to leave, that she never wanted to see him again, but she couldn’t do that without closure. It would eat her alive more than anything else.

“Fine. In the morning. Sleep on the sofa.” She murmured, nodding and leaving him to stand alone. He didn’t wipe his tears; he watched her figure disappear down the hall until it was just him and the clock’s ticking. He’d arrived late before; he knew his drill. Lock the front door, turn off the lights, and take his shoes off. Now, the hat lay on the coffee table, the throw blanket over his body and he’d never been more grateful for all the times he slept in her bed.

[luvissues]

thinking about john price who is just so guilty when he gets home from missions :( he’s always knocked out, fast asleep before you can even think to spend any time with him. he feels awful, he really does- so why not have his boys come to make up for his absence?

(cw: dubcon kinda(?), price being a cheeky bastard)

the first one he brings around is kyle, and while the captain claims not to play favorites, you know this boy must be it from the way john speaks of him. but you can see why.

he’s nothing but polite, all quiet thank yous and murmured gratitude. price had called you in advanced to warn you of his arrival; ‘he’s a good lad, love, no trouble. just needs a nice rest before he heads home.’

dutifully, you’d prepared the guest room. made sure to be a bit more conscious when you cleaned the house this time around. upon coming home, price wearily leaned down to press a firm kiss to the top of your head before lumbering off to bed. it was kyle who expressed his respect towards your efforts.

so, when you’re preparing tea the next morning, he just has to thank you for all of this the proper way. he catches you by surprise- you’d thought the soldier might be a little more like your husband, ever so ready to sleep off the long mission, but he’s up early enough to interrupt your little a.m. habit.

he hums a quiet good morning as he approaches from behind, forearms resting on the counter beside you. you don’t pay him much mind until you notice the slight tug on the bottom of your sleep shorts.

“all i’ve seen anyone wear for the past month is cargos and jeans,” he muttered, as if his interest stemmed from an innocent curiosity. “forgot they made them this small back here, eh?”

and, to your credit, you brush him off like the good wife you are. but that doesn’t stop the way the warmth of his palm skims under your loose shirt, creeping back down. he tsks when he runs a finger over your seam, pushing off the counter so that he can press against your back.

“poor thing, aren’t you? awe, no- you shouldn’t have to wait until price gets up, the lazy bastard. let me help.”

he keeps you pinned there against the counter as he works at you, deft, slim fingers curling so nicely inside. he makes a quick job of it too, not that the hushed, gentle praises he breaths against your neck made it any easier for you to resist.

he doesn’t linger long. simply snaps your drawers back into place, wanders back to his room. by the time john is up, he’s all dressed and ready to go, duffel slung over his shoulder.

“lovely home you keep, price.” he smiles as he kicks on his shoes.

“you know i don’t do even half the work, garrick.” your husband grumbles back, voice rough and thick with sleep.

“i know. wasn’t talking to you.” he chuckles lightly, hand curling around the back of your neck with a small squeeze before he‘s off to the door. you don’t notice the way price lingers longer than he should when he sees his boy off.

simon is a bit different. unlike kyle, you can tell that this man needs just as much sleep as john just by looking at him.

to be truthful, you were just a bit offput at your husband’s call this time around. you’d met ghost a grand total of maybe once in the entire time you’d been married. you’re starting to think that might be for a reason.

unlike his sergeant, he’s (very) blatantly brutish. he shoulders and elbows his way through your house, ducking under doors and manhandling his belongings. you’re happy to leave him be when you go tend to your husband.

john is always beaten up when he returns. it’s like he’s slept on the floor of the humvee on his drive back, except maybe the dirt road was made out of the biggest fucking rocks on the planet, or so it seems. there’s bruises and gashes everywhere, and you can’t even begin to think of how some of them appeared, if not for the van shaking him around like the clapper inside a bell.

either way, it’s a mess to clean him up, and an absolute haul to get him from the bathroom into bed. luckily(?) for you, simon is here, and he seems to have no qualms about helping his half-naked captain into bed.

maybe you should look into that, but you try your best to let it escape your mind.

when you finally get the big man down, you begrudgingly come to terms with the fact that there’s no way you’re sleeping on this bed. john is sprawled across it, pushing his lieutenant away at the offer of painkillers. just because he won’t sleep well doesn’t mean you have to suffer with him.

however, when simon notices you packing up for the couch, you can practically see him frowning even under the mask he wears.

“cap’n ‘ll kill me if i have his missus take the settee.” he huffs, and while you try to be a good host and usher him into the guest room, he doesn’t have any of it.

that morning, you get up nice and early to make sure that you can at least accommodate for your guest, considering he gave up his bed for you. and while it does take a considerable amount of time to shake that bear of a man awake, the only thing he wants is for you to sit down with him.

he makes everything so simple, doesn’t he? from the sleeping arrangements to the tidy way he conducts things. it becomes apparent, the longer you talk to him, that he never seems to have lived any other way. breaking things apart and reconstructing them in his head; keeping his life orderly, straightforward.

the way he approaches you is much the same. what starts as a hand on your thigh quickly becomes him cupping your core over your pants- right to the point. you’d decided to dress a bit more appropriately, considering what happened with kyle, but that doesn’t stop the lieutenant at all. he simply shoves his hand into your joggers, making no show of pulling them down and talking all sweet like kyle did. he only grunts, pulling his hand away so that he can maneuver you onto your back.

he seems to hesitate in his actions, a slight falter that you might mistake as inexperience if not for knowing his age. surely, with a stature such as his own, he’s gotten his way around. instead, his reluctance seems to be a result of your situation- you are important to price. he cannot hurt you, cannot break you, for that would be forgoing the trust placed in him.

but, like everything else, he tries to keep this easy. he shushes you lightly when he bullies his cock into you, but other than that, not a word comes out of his mouth. it would be mildly disturbing if you were paying any more attention, but luckily for him, your focus is directed at the way your nails scrape against the fabric of the sofa and the way you have to bite your tongue to keep yourself quiet; bigger priorities than his unnerving silence.

when john finally wakes, it’s only for long enough to give his soldier a pat on the shoulder and a quick goodbye before he’s back in bed. when you join him, you feel as though you’ve done some unspeakable crime. your husband seems none the wiser as he pulls you closer, and when you stay the rest of the day with him, he doesn’t know that it’s because your thighs are too bruised for walking to be comfortable.

the last to stay is johnny, who seems to have been beaten raw in about every spot apart from his voice box. the man gladly fills the silence that price leaves; he downs a couple of tylenol dry and seems good to go. you wince as you watch him.

the only reason johnny comes back with your husband is due to the length of their mission. something about not having enough time to make arrangements when they were out, so he has to make do now that he’s back. still, your last two guests have left you restless, and you tread carefully around the boisterous sergeant.

well, not that it matters. because as soon as johnny sees even the slightest furrow to your brow when you notice price blacked out in bed without having even removed his uniform, he’s determined to make you feel better.

he all but steers you back to the guest room with a very firm hand on your back. you don’t even remember lifting your feet off the floor- it’s like he pushed you all the way down the hall on his own. thinking back, it’s likely that’s exactly what he did.

unlike simon, johnny holds just about zero inhibitions. and if you though gaz was a talker, well, that made his comrade a goddamn motormouth. half the words he’s saying are either nonsense or spoken in an accent too harsh to understand, but the way he cages you underneath him is all the same.

“we’ve been oot a long time, haven’t we? aye, the captain’s sleepin’ like he ain’t ever wakin’ up!”

his jabbering does a decent job of distracting you from the way he’s hastily pulling your clothes off, but not much.

“right shame, is wha’ it is. dinnae worry hen, i’ll look out for ya, yeah?”

look out for you, he does. the man is relentless, spewing his chatty nonsense while he goes at you. he drags his thick fingers against your walls until you’re pushing him away, crudely lapping at your slick even then. for someone who was off fighting in a country whose name you can’t even pronounce, he sure does have some stamina in him.

and when you look down between your legs, eyes wide at the sight of his spend dripping out of you, he takes it as a sign that he’s not done a good enough job. if you’re not witless, he’s not done.

by the time you’re going back to price’s room, you’re so sore and achey that johnny carries you- not that he seems the least bit bothered.

there’s no way in hell that john can’t see what you’ve been up to this time around, even through his bleary eyes. you’re horrified, but when the sergeant haphazardly tosses you into bed, chirping about what a sweet little bird his captain’s got and how nice it was to see her, your husband only gives him a mock salute before he shuts the door.

he pulls you into his chest with a quiet rumble, tucking his head into the crook of your shoulder without a word.

stupid bastard knew the whole time. you’d be furious, spewing filth at him for what he ordered his men to do, but you don’t get a word in.

he smooths a hand over your head, slings a leg over your own. “mm, good lad, he is. he take care of you alrigh’? i told ‘im too.”

you can hear the hint of pride in his tone, like he’s satisfied with himself for thinking to get the boys to take care of you while he ‘recovered’.

you don’t respond. he takes that as answer enough- you can feel him smiling against your skin as he pulls the covers back over you.

[sleepyparalysisdmon]

Call Call Call!

Wonwoo x coworker!reader Requested? Yes! Word count: 3k A/N: I know this must be the 4th or 5th time that I’ve insisted on IT employee Wonwoo, but no. I will not stop. It fits him so well.

Wonwoo lets out a big sigh when the phone stops ringing, leaning back in his chair to glare across to Mingyu’s cubicle. He’s answered the phone faster than the rest of them today, and Wonwoo knows Seungcheol and Vernon are also rolling their eyes. It’s a stupid little competition that’s started since you began working here.

You find pretty creative ways to break computers. And phones. And printers. You keep the IT help desk busy and it started as a joke when it was just emails. One of his coworkers would groan, “Ugh, we got another one,” and the response would be, “What is it this time?”

And in the beginning, you kept a very busy schedule. You’d leave your laptop hooked up at your desk for someone to look at while you were at meetings. Same with your desk phone. And the printer was shared amongst your department. All that to say, they had no idea what you looked like until one day it was Vernon’s turn to run and fix something for you. He comes back up an hour later and says, “Uh, did you guys know she was hot?” Vernon’s point was proven one day at the company lunch when you were introduced as the newest team lead for your department.

From then on, all four of them would glance at who was calling or emailing and call dibs. Yes, they’d eventually answer it as the job requires, but if it was you? The race was on. Mingyu happened to win today. He’s jumping out of his seat with a smug smile once he hangs up the phone. “She needs admin access to download something.”

Wonwoo narrows his eyes. “Can’t you just remote in to do that?” It’s what they would do for anyone else. Mingyu shrugs, making his way out of the office. Wonwoo tries not to feed this little competition his department has, but sometimes he can’t help it. Part of it is pride, because even if he’s not busy on another call or away from his desk, he always seems to lose the race to the phone or reply button. Mingyu and Seungcheol enjoy the competition, perhaps more than actually visiting you, though they seem to enjoy that too. Vernon even looks a little dopey sometimes when he comes back down from your cubicle.

Maybe it’s for the best that he loses all the time. He’s sure he’d be painfully awkward. So he’ll stick to your password reset requests which definitely don’t require a visit upstairs.

~ Wonwoo wins one day, not that there was actually a lot of competition. Seungcheol is out, and Mingyu and Vernon are on runs to help someone with something elsewhere in the building. Wonwoo has been left to man the phones and his heart leaps when he sees your caller ID come through. He answers the phone and you sigh on the other end. “I’ve done it again.”

His coworkers give you a hard time about how busy you keep them, so you start every call or email with an apologetic tone. It makes him bite back a chuckle. “What is it?”

“I’m locked out of everything. Which means I can’t even get in to my email to send a password reset request.”

“We need to discuss your password management,” Wonwoo teases, opening the directory. “Here’s your temporary password. You’ll need to reset it once you get in.”

Once you’ve jotted down the temporary password, you sigh again. “Thank you. I’ll try not to pester you again today.”

“It’s no problem.” He’s kind of required to say this, but he says genuinely right now. When the call ends, he documents the ticket and closes it, but when Vernon and Mingyu come back, they both see it and groan.

“You get to go on runs next time,” Mingyu grumbles.

~

Seungcheol gets the next call. You come in late to find out that nothing on your desk is working and you’re borderline panicked when you make the call from your coworker’s desk phone. Seungcheol comes back down ten minutes later with a smirk on his face.

“What, did you finally ask her out?” Vernon chortles from his desk. Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. Not that any of them had been so bold as to do that yet, but it seemed like it was only a matter of time.

“Oh no,” Seungcheol chuckled. “I’m not brave enough for that. I was laughing at the problem this time.”

“What was it?” Mingyu asked.

“Surge protector was off,” Seungcheol snorted. “Custodians must have hit it when they vacuumed. You should have seen her face when that’s all it took.”

Even Wonwoo can’t help but snort at the thought. Mingyu shakes his head. “How does she keep doing things like this?”

“It’s a mystery,” Vernon muses.

~

The next call goes to Vernon. The printer is on the fritz again, according to your message. This isn’t new, not even for you. Others regularly complain about the very same printer that’s ancient and really needs to be replaced. His coworkers still chortle about the fact that it’s you who has to report it today.

Twenty minutes later, Vernon comes back into the office and simply announces, “paper jam!”

No one really reacts to this announcement. They get a few calls like that a week. However, Vernon stands between the cubicles and presents a massive wad of printer paper. “I’m not joking.”

The three of them burst into laughter. “Oh man. Did you pull all of that out of the printer in front of her?” Seungcheol wheezes.

“Sure did!” Vernon answers, dropping the wad into the recycling. “Her exact words were ‘why me’.”

“Why her indeed,” Wonwoo muses.

“We need to just put in a request to replace that monstrosity. It’ll save her and everyone else on that floor a few phone calls,” Mingyu said.

“I’ll do it,” Wonwoo offered, pulling up a request form. Anything to put you out of your misery.

~

Mingyu might have taken the next phone call, but he begrudgingly hands it off to Wonwoo to handle. Mingyu’s in the middle of massive laptop order and can’t break away, so he dictates the problem to Wonwoo. It’s simple. You need a new keyboard. He doesn’t ask a lot of questions, simply filing the ticket and picking up a new keyboard from the supply closet on his way out.

He realizes you’re having a hard day right away. You’re cleaning the spilt coffee off your desk with paper towels that your coworker, Jiwoo, is handing you over your cubicle wall. You kind of look like you might cry when he approaches, so he doesn’t dare make a joke about your call today. “New keyboard,” he simply says, holding it up.

“Thanks, Wonwoo,” you sigh. “Sorry to make you make the trip up here for that.”

He shrugs. “It’s no problem.”

“No, it is. This is the first thing I’ve actually destroyed,” you pout, tossing a wad of paper towels into your trash bin and grabbing another wad from Jiwoo.

“These aren’t expensive,” he tries to soothe. “We buy them in bulk anyway. There are a ton in the supply closet.”

He doesn’t know if his words help, so he simply hooks up your new keyboard and carries the coffee-logged one away. Jiwoo is giving you another cup of coffee as he leaves.

He gets the typical questioning look when he arrives back in his office. He presents the destroyed keyboard. “Coffee mishap,” he says, dumping it into the equipment recycling bin. “I think she might have actually been upset by that one.”

“At least it wasn’t her laptop,” Vernon says.

“Don’t jinx it. Bless her heart, but it might happen someday,” Seungcheol said with only a bit of humor to it. Sometimes, they actually felt a little pity for you and your bad luck with technology.

Wonwoo wouldn’t mind putting in a laptop request form for you and setting up a loaner, but he did not enjoy seeing you upset. He hopes you don’t have to call again today, if only because it means you don’t have anymore mishaps to feel bad about.

~

The company is hosting a dinner for everyone in celebration of a successful year. It’s dull for the first half, with leadership rambling about record-breaking profits and an overwhelming number of new investors. Amongst other coworkers, you’re being honored for some of this work, for which you have to give a little acceptance speech. At least you have a good sense of humor, because you thank the help desk for all of the assistance they’ve given you in your time here. It’s sort of like an inside joke when you promise you’ll try not to break anything else.

Wonwoo decides to tap out a little after 10pm. It’s early for something like this, particularly since the company has an open bar tonight, but he doesn’t really feel up to getting drunk with his coworkers. His bed is calling his name, so he says good night and steps out of the venue the company has rented for the night. You’re already standing outside. It’s kind of unusual to see you alone. You usually stick to your department mates, namely Jiwoo.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it, but he approaches you. “Nice speech, but you didn’t have to do that,” he chuckles.

You glance up at him, grinning. “Oh, but I did. I harass you guys constantly. You deserved the shout out.”

“You’re our favorite troublemaker, it’s okay,” he teases. He glances around. “No Jiwoo tonight?”

You sigh, shaking your head. “No, she’s been sick the last couple of days. She wanted to make it, but she’s still stuck in bed.”

“That’s too bad,” Wonwoo says. “What will you do without your shadow? Or are you hers?”

You snort out a laugh. “Depends on the moment, I guess. But to answer your question, I’ll be getting a taxi. She usually drives for these things.”

Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “Why would you do that? I’ll just give you a ride.”

Your eyes get wide. “Oh, I couldn’t ask that of you. I’m all the way on the other side of town. You don’t need to go out of your way.”

Wonwoo shrugs. “I don’t mind the drive. Come on. I really don’t mind.”

You eventually nod. “If you insist. Thanks, Wonwoo.” He leads you to his car that’s parked around the block. He lets you guide him as he pulls out onto the street.

While driving between directions, he can’t help but chat idly. It even surprises him, but whatever nervousness he felt fades fast because you’re an easy person to talk to, even if the only safe topics he has are work related right now. “Do you like the job so far?”

“Oh yeah! It’s very different from my last job, but that’s a good thing.”

“Oh? What did you do before?” Wonwoo asked curiously.

You hesitate and he glances to you to see that you look a little sheepish. “You’re going to laugh.”

He quirks an eyebrow. “I promise I won’t.”

“You will,” you insist, before taking a deep breath. “Here it goes. I used to work in IT.”

Wonwoo can’t help the snort that he lets out. It’s a good thing he’s at a stop light. “Are you serious?”

You’re turning a little red, rolling your eyes. “I know, laugh it up.”

“Seriously, explain this to me. You used to work in IT but you’re the top ticket requester for the entire year. How did we get here?”

You’re shaking your head, though you don’t look too upset. “You said you wouldn’t laugh.”

“I know. I’m sorry, but that’s pretty ironic,” Wonwoo muses. “What? Do you just like for us to come visit you?”

“Your whole department? Maybe not,” you laugh, but it makes him quirk an eyebrow at you again.

“What? Do you have a favorite or something?”

You scoff good-naturedly. “What? So you can laugh at me again?”

“Is your plot to date Mingyu?” Wonwoo teases slyly, but you shake your head with an eye roll. “Seungcheol?” Another shake of your head. “Vernon?” He cries out.

You scoff. “Nope. You know, you hardly ever answer the phone?” Wonwoo’s perplexed for a moment, glancing at you at another stop light. “I’m… lost.”

“By what? That I know how to work a surge protector and was hoping you’d pick up the phone? Most of those calls were admittedly things I couldn’t help, but….” You trail off.

Wonwoo’s incredibly slow on the pickup. “You’re… into me? Me?” He points to his chest for clarification.

You blink up at him, gesturing to the intersection. “Green light.” Wonwoo starts driving again. “Why not you?”

“I don’t know… and why not just ask?”

You start to say something and then huff. “I don’t know. What if I make a fool out of myself?” You pause. “More than I already do, I guess.” You point to an apartment complex on the right. “This is me.”

He’s quiet for a few beats as he pulls up in front of the building. You’re peeling off your seatbelt when he interrupts. “I would have said yes.”

You stare at him for a long second before a smile begins to creep up on your lips. “Oh?” You glance around at the street in front of you before glancing back. It’s like you’re steeling yourself for something. “Would you happen to be free this weekend?”

Wonwoo slowly smiles, gripping the steering wheel. “Yeah, I’m free if you are.” It’s his turn to be a little bold. “But I’m free right now too.”

Your grin is getting wider. “The dinner didn’t quite cut it for me. Did it for you?”

“No… There’s a good restaurant around the corner that stays open late, I think.”

“Sounds good. Let’s go then!” You’re hopping out of the car and Wonwoo has never moved so fast to follow. He does everything he can to mask how giddy he is when he meets you on the sidewalk and you hold out your hand for him.

He’ll give you a hard time about your unorthodox approach to letting him know you’re into him later. Much, much later.

~

The phone rings and no one leaps for it. Mingyu even sits back in his chair again. “Wonwoo, it’s for you.”

The little competition of theirs was over the moment that the phone rang one day and you asked if Wonwoo was busy and could help you with something. He hadn’t really announced the newly found relationship, but he’d been met with three questioning glares when Seungcheol had asked why you wanted Wonwoo specifically. He’d casually said, “Not sure, but I’ll be a good boyfriend and go see what she needs.” He left the room in utter chaos that morning.

Since then, they’d resigned themselves to the fact that most of your calls were just excuses to see Wonwoo. It didn’t always work - sometimes Wonwoo was busy and someone else had to come help you - but no one would ever catch Wonwoo complaining.

Like now, Wonwoo simply stands and leaves the office to see you. He knows you don’t really need anything, but he likes the excuse just as much as you do. When he comes out of the elevator, you’re peeking over your cubicle wall and he can tell you’re grinning even though he can only see your eyes. He hangs over the cubicle wall lazily. “You rang?”

You look a little sneaky when you smile up at him. “I accidentally deleted a file and I think it’s gone forever. Can you help?”

“Sure,” he says simply, though he could have recovered this file from his desk. You slide your chair to the side and he squeezes into your cubicle to take over your computer. “Any plans tonight?” He says casually.

“No, do you?” You ask, tone teasing.

“Oh my god. Do you guys have to do this every day?” Jiwoo groans from her cubicle, though neither you or Wonwoo can see her. It makes you both laugh.

“Just put your headphones in, Jiwoo. Let me talk to my boyfriend,” you chuckle.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Wonwoo teases, ignoring Jiwoo’s second groan.

“When did we talk about that?” He’s absolutely messing with you because he’s been calling himself that for a while now.

You blink up at him innocently. “Do you hate it?”

Wonwoo snorts. “No, you know I don’t.” His phone buzzes, and then keeps buzzing in his pocket. He knows it’s one of his coworkers downstairs. “I gotta go, but I’ll see you later for dinner.” He risks a little kiss before he runs back downstairs. He’ll take whatever complaints his coworkers have for his little escapes upstairs any day.