#{📝}. Requests

[bunnwich]

Rituals☁️(Leona x Reader)

Leona is low on spoons after the Tamashina-Mina tournament and needs some attention. Also what better way for him to sneakily court his favorite creature?

Curated from my 200k+ words Leona x Yuu fic

Characters: Leona Kingscholar x Yuu!Reader (GN. No physical description for Yuu. Yuu knows massage therapy.)

Words: 3k, 3rd person

Notes: I saw a meme the other day about how: “Liberalism leaves people’s bodies when mental health starts to affect someone’s hygiene” and I thought of how the fandom used to treat Leona. Also, I really wanted to make the “he uses you as a pillow” cliche not icky. 

Tagging: @comingyourlugubriousness @nammanarin @twst-the-night-away @twstinginthewind @ephemii @the-monday-witch @anevilbunnyinthehat @stagefullofsilly @theshipthatneversetsail @patrioticarcreactor @ice-cweam-sod4 @beaniz @the-nightingales-song @efsstash @cyn-write @porcelain-animatronic @lowcallyfruity @bestmannequin2018 @h0rr0r-10ver-69

-

It was baffling enough of a request that Leona Kingscholar invited Yuu to his home, but even more so was the thing he asked of them now.

“What? Am I your servant now, too?”

“No, course not.” He seemed deeply offended at this implication, nostrils flaring in indignance while his ears flopped backward against his hair. “I’m…askin’ you.” His ears flipped back up as he took a step closer, awaiting their response.

“Wait. You're serious…?” Yuu asked with a crinkle of their nose.

“Please…?” The word was barely audible, the man’s green-eyed stare never breaking from theirs. “If you’d be so kind…” He smirked, putting on an air, propping a hand on his hip. It was a warm day at the palace and he donned a pair of loose linen pants and a matching cream-colored tank top, all embroidered with gold.

Yuu swayed their head back and forth while they considered the idea, unimpressed by the sudden “princely” act. What was he up to? They gazed down at the object in their hand as if it held the answer. Well, it wasn’t often that they heard that word from Leona Kingscholar. “Fine, okay.” 

Was it really such a big deal, brushing his hair?

–

The hammock below the two of them swayed with both their weights as they sat face to face, each teetering on each edge of the colorful canvas. Late afternoon light filtered through the stained glass over all the greenery of the palace gardens, gilding everything it touched. 

Sighing, Yuu made another move, leaning forward to grab another section of the dark waves from the man’s shoulder. They hadn’t even ended up using the brush much so far. The only thing it had been good for was hitting the man when he talked back. 

“Well, the good news is…I got most of it.”

On their way here, Yuu grabbed their bag, bringing it with them to the gardens. Luckily, they kept a few favorites with them at all times. A small vial of rosehip oil; that would work. It could be used for both skin and hair in a pinch. Removing the dropper from the bottle they dripped some more into their palms, rubbing them together before applying it to the end of the man’s loose curls.

“Stinks.”

Yuu couldn’t help but roll their eyes at him. “It’s just rose. It’s nothing compared to that eye-watering cologne you bathe in every day. They sighed, working it through his thick tresses in the silence, pulling it all through to the ends of each section. “...I shouldn’t really be brushing it when it’s all tangled like this, you know.”

“Tch, I know that,” He said indignantly, his lips pressing into a small pout, eyes downcast to watch them work. “Everyone just assumes my hair is like my brother’s…”

They pressed their lips together. “Hmph. Then do it yourself, next time, huh? ” Letting out a huff, they released the bushel of soft curls, the dark curtain falling over Leona's neck. His hair honestly wasn’t as bad as he had made it seem. It just needed some moisture and careful detangling.

“Naw, why would I…when you’re already doing it for me.” The man reclined forward, propping his elbow on the canvas. “Mmm.” He watched them move on to the next section, meticulously separating the frizz and smoothing it over with the oil. Releasing a small sound in his throat,  he stared up at them with lethargic eyes, seemingly in a trance. 

Yuu shook their head at his comment, knowing that secretly he was just eating up the attention.  Keeping their eyes down on their work, they were careful not to pull too hard on his strands.

Leona muttered something as his lids fell completely closed, the end of his tail tapping on the edge of the hammock by their knee. A steady drumbeat.

They took their time with the rest, with only the noise of a few birds calling and Leona’s occasional sigh or grumble. It wasn’t long before, their lids lulled down too. It was relaxing in a way, quietly detangling someone’s hair.

Every once and a while their eyes flitted to the man’s face, catching the little twitch of the corner of his lips. After Yuu was done the detangling, they pulled two equal parts of the bottom sections forward, trying their best to get them even. They stuck their tongue out while they focused, before braiding them as neatly as they could manage, in the way he normally wore them. 

“There, you look more like yourself...” Yuu shrugged when they were done, tugging on one of the braids, and making sure the man wasn’t actually asleep.  “Better?” They crossed their arms, raising a brow over at him.

“Yeah.” The man opened his eyes slightly, the edge of his mouth falling into a crooked, but satisfied smile. “You did good.” His voice crackled just like the way a warm fire would. Like the bonfires at Savanclaw. He may have been sincere, but everything Leona said was always dipped in just a little bit of patronization.

Yuu palmed him on the forehead, pushing his face away slightly before letting their fingers drift up to his scalp, moving some of the hair out of his face.

“Hm?” He questioned, shifting slightly, turning his head to look up at what they were doing.

“Are you uh- still having those headaches?” They began to work their finger into his crown, between his twitching ears, pressing gently down on a few familiar pressure points. “I have to tell you, I’m the best.”

“I always have a headache when you're around.”  He sat up erect, suddenly seeming full of energy, grabbing their calves and yanking them closer to him, practically into his lap. He kept going until the backs of their legs were hooked over his thighs. He chuckled in delight at their bewildered deer-in-headlights reaction. 

Yuu froze at his boldness, pressing their lips together into a pout as they stared up at him with blinking eyes. 

“Don’t be all shy, now. Prove it. I think I got a big one coming on.” He purred at them.

Still playing, hm? “Hmph.” They huffed out a breath at his shenanigans.

Leona didn’t let them get far though, keeping his lock around their ankles, leaning over to study their reaction. “Feel free to say no.” He released them, holding his hands up innocently. “...If you’re not up to the task that is.” A bit of his white fangs gleamed as his sneer widened, leering at them through his dark lashes.

“You-” Yuu stuttered, resigning themselves. They were falling for it. This is what Leona was best at: pushing others into “proving themselves” by gently prodding them from their comfort zone.

“Fine.” Saying nothing more, they only lifted their hands to evaluate him once more, taking in a breath before tracing their fingers down the sides of his muscular neck. 

Ah, the man seemed a bit surprised to see them agree, but he quickly masked it with another smug smile as he lifted his jaw to accommodate them.

Leona’s skin was much warmer than theirs and surprisingly smooth, his excited pulse fluttering under their fingers. “Hm. You are tense.” They muttered aloud, pressing their thumb into one of the hard muscles there. “That hurt?”

“Ack, what do you think? Beast…” He hissed, his ears lowering slightly, grabbing their wrist to stop them.

Yuu smirked, most people didn’t expect that kind of strength from them…until they gave them a chance to prove it. “Sheesh, sorry you big baby. I was just askin’.” They rolled their eyes and swatted his nosy hand away. This allowed them to focus again, laying their palms on both of his broad shoulders. 

They could see it clearly now, his shoulders were rounded forward, and his left side was higher–signaling to them he probably held more tension there.

The man was studying them again, one grumpy eye barely open. 

Yuu chuckled, no one expects how much it hurts. Though as much as they enjoyed hurting the man, they went in softer this time, gently kneading his shoulders and neck, before they bothered to poke him anymore. As they worked closer to his jaw, they became enveloped in his signature smell. Traces of cinnamon, hints of orange, and star anise lingered on their fingertips as they explored his exposed skin, taking care to not pull on the golden necklace that hung from his neck.

“How…did you know?” Leona asked through a groan.

 They had hit the right spot.

“The way you walk, for one. You know, with your head forward. For royalty…your posture is terrible, you know. You heard Vil. Anyways, I can just tell by feeling most of the time.” Yuu added, continuing to work on the tightest areas first.

“Tch, you’re one to talk,” He said through his groans, brown ears flopping to the sides as he began to relax into their skilled touch. “...I recall us both getting reamed by Schoenheit at those practices.”

“Hey, I’m not the one on trial here. You asked for my expert opinion.” They continued, reaching around to the back of the man’s neck to rub circles in the base of his skull, moving up into his thick hair.

Leona made a rumbling noise in his chest at this, letting his head nod forward until he went completely limp in their hands. Somewhere, between the ticks of both their breaths, he had slumped his whole weight on them. A whole lion in their lap.

“Mmm.” He nuzzled his forehead against Yuu's shoulder, moving his hand from their calf up onto their arm, running a finger across the loose thread of their sleeve.

Yuu tensed, the man’s warm breath tickling their neck. It felt a little surreal to think such a powerful mage lay against them now like an oversized house cat. It was sort of an honor that he felt so relaxed around them. Sort of. 

They shook their head, trying not to giggle, and straightened their back to accommodate the new weight. Yuu kept on working as if nothing had changed, ignoring the fluttering in their guts that his soft breaths over their cheeks stirred. 

After they finished with his scalp, they worked back down to his shoulders, grabbing both of them and twisting them to one side, signaling wordlessly for the man to turn around for them. The hammock squeaked as he rearranged himself and Yuu pulled his head down into the center of their lap.  

Some people they had worked on, like Jack, could never fully relax for them, no matter how many times they reminded him to. However, the oxymoron of man before them seemed to have no problem flopping over like a sleepy kitten, ready to be petted. 

Going by cat behavior, he had shown them his belly, a small sliver peeking from the edge of his top. Now, with a completely malleable lion in their lap, Yuu couldn’t help but smile. He was totally at their mercy, moving whichever way they pulled him.

Their fingers made their way up and down his neck shoulders and even a bit of his chest, respecting the barrier of his tunic's low neckline.

Every once in a while, Leona’s lips tumbled open with a deep rumbling sigh of relief, pressing himself in their touch with each stroke, seeming to crave more and more. Their face grew hot, some part of this felt…too intimate. No, no. It was just a massage, but the man’s touch-starved reactions were becoming harder and harder to ignore.

 It was only when Yuu’s fingers reached up to his jaw did Leona open his eyes once more.

As their fingertips settled on the sides of his face, his shoulders went stiff under their care, Leona’s pulse ramping up for the first time during the massage.  His jaw tightened as they brought their fingers up to the temples of his grimacing face, trying to soothe him. 

He couldn’t be nervous now, could he?

“You…hold a lot of tension in your face too,”  They said calmly, urging his head to the right side, “Especially your…jaw.” They moved down to press their thumb into his cheek, easily finding the small, rigid muscle on the left side of his face.

The man grunted, “Easy.” 

Yuu shook their head again and eased up some. “...Just breathe.” They sighed, rolling their eyes as they massaged his jaw. “That right there is probably a big culprit of your headaches, you know.”

“Hmm,” He replied thoughtfully, his face softening some at their more gentle method. 

Their fingers worked each side of his face some more, then trailed slowly up his nose, rubbing circles across his sinuses. When they made their way up to his “third eye” area they rubbed extra hard to make a point, trying to get him to relax once more. “Sorry, just trying smooth out that permanent wrinkle you got there…”

Leona scoffed, dipping his head back into their touch, and closing his eyes shut again. “Tch, yeah well, every time I come home to visit it ages me five years, so...” He chuckled.

Yuu let out a light chuckle too, taking the strokes they made on the man’s cheeks upward and into his hairline, brushing against his scar a few times.

Leona’s forehead creased, an uncommon expression gracing his usually stern or sarcastic face. His broad nose curled in discomfort and they could see his eyes flicker anxiously under his lids. He was even holding his breath.

“Hey…Just breathe I told you!” They repeated with another soft laugh. “It helps with circulation.”

“Mmph.” The man said nothing and grunted at them before exhaling loudly. They would have thought they were doing something painful to him by his expressions.

Yuu tilted their head, realizing exactly what this was all about. They cupped their palms around his cheeks before dragging the stroke up, one of their fingertips running over the edge of his scar again to test the theory. 

The skin was dryer there and slightly raised. It created extra pull whenever they went over it. But, besides that…it was no different than any other part of his face. The Leona Kingscholar couldn’t be self-conscious, could he? No one ever really commented on it, and it surely did nothing but, to quote Rook: add to his “handsome and rugged charisma.”

But, the more they thought about it, they could understand why he was so dodgy about it. A memory like that, couldn’t have been pleasant.

The more times Yuu went over it they sensed a strange pull of energy from the area, like deep space. They were sure it was something the man had buried deep, so he could convince himself that he didn’t remember what actually happened anymore. 

Can’t remember every little scratch, he said once. How many people knew the real truth, they wondered. Or if there were any legends behind it in the palace.

“You don’t have ta’ touch it.” The man blurted out, trying to keep a straight face. His lips pressed together hard before he feigned a usual smug grin. “Though, I know that you’re a professional and all.”

“Wha-” Yuu almost wanted to roll their eyes at him for how dramatic he was being but, they didn’t. 

 “And- Why…would it bother me?” They asked casually, continuing the face massage as normal.

“Hmph.” Leona let out a huff, one side of his mouth arching upwards into a small smile. “I…see.” When he opened his eyes again, they were shiny, reflecting the tree tops around them. “Not many people have uh-”

 “Feel better?” Yuu lifted their hands from his face as they finished, saving him from the awkwardness of elaborating further. They had seen plenty enough to know how relieved he was at their response. That was enough.

“Mmhm.” He answered, clearing his throat before sitting up to face them again, the whole hammock groaning in response.  “....Thank ya.” He muttered, reaching behind to rub the back of his neck. “Much looser now-”

Leona sighed, eyebrows curving up over his eyes. Then, all at once his gaze snapped up to them, taking them in from head to toe. In one smooth movement, he let his body settle down against theirs, his strong shoulder pressing against them. 

Yuu’s heart hammered against his, mirroring the same fervid beat. No, this was more than just hair brushing. They hadn’t considered the implications until this moment, those of beastmen courtship and personal hygiene that they had read about. The concepts were often interlinked. Sacred.

A hug? No, he was just still just staring at them now, inches away, like a cat ready to pounce. The usual slits of his eyes were dark pools of space, reflecting back their own baffled expression. 

Yuu swallowed. They were so gridlocked by his intense stare, it was hard to speak or even breathe with him pressing them so firmly to the canvas hammock. He seemed at odds with something, his worn gaze downcast. “W-What…what’s wrong, Leona?” They whispered through an unsteady chuckle, managing to keep their head.

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all.” He whispered, letting his weight sink further into them. There was a peaceful smile on his face as he reached up to grab a section of their hair from behind their ear, twisting it between his fingertips, tail flopping behind him lazily.

It felt like they were being chosen for something.

“Wha-” Their eyes widened, it took them a whole 30 seconds to realize the man was braiding the pieces together, calm and methodical, like when he was arranging his pieces on a chess board. Part of the plan. It was obvious Leona knew how to braid hair but it was…surreal to behold it.

When he was done the corner of his mouth turned up more, creasing a dimple into his cheek. His eyes fixated on the sight of his results, he was so…proud of his work.

Yuu didn’t even have time to speak before he turned his head away, lying his cheek on one side of their shoulder once more. He had done it so casually as if he had done it a hundred times before and would do it a hundred times more.

They understand why he did it, the two of them were…a matching set now.

He chose them. Their heart squeezed as the man draped his arms around their waist, locking them in place once more as something shifted between them.

 Leona’s cocky air had all but dissipated. “...Is this okay with ya?” He muttered so softly they almost missed it. He was asking permission, asking if they would accept him.

“Oh um…Y-yes.” They let their arms fall around his back, tugging on the end of his curls as they held him. Yes, he was getting way too comfortable, but it was their fault for allowing it, right? Yuu laid their head on his, letting him know for sure that: yes, it was okay.

“Hey, I know you're not falling asleep right now.” They grumbled playfully, tugging on his hair and furrowing their brow. Meanwhile, they curled their legs around his torso like a koala as he held them tight, making sure there was no space between them.

They knew it was all a lost cause. He had set the board how he wanted. He would not let them go again, and they didn’t want him to.

“Shh,” Leona mumbled into their shirt, inhaling deeply. “ You’ve been real workin’ lately hard, right? Rest wit’ me.”

“But I-” Yuu yawned, their eyes watering some as they did. The action had forced their eyes shut. The breeze also was not helping, rocking them both gently inside the hammock.  “Fine. But just for a little while.” They breathed out, their own shoulders finally relaxing. Yuu’s head slumped over to gently bob against Leona’s. 

“You win…this time.”

The man only chuckled at their admission of defeat, a warm note buzzing against their chest. 

The last thing they saw was the colored glass of the greenhouse, filtering in pink light through the serrated leaves of the palm trees.

Leona’s sighs of contentment traveled through their body, as his warm fingers kneaded into their back. 

--

[quinnylouhughesx43]

𝘽𝙖𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙊𝙪𝙩 · 𝙟𝙝86

summary: Trevor isn’t a fan of how Jack’s changed for his girlfriend.

warnings: use of y/n, kind of angsty, more fluffy, trevor being kind of a bitter friend,

word count: 1.1k

authors note: i really liked the request prompt but i struggled to write it. to the anon who requested it i hope it doesn’t let you down 🥺



Y/n’s laughter echoed through the restaurant, a melody that seemed to seep deep into Jack's soul. He couldn't help but smile as he watched her throw her head back, revealing the small, delicate spot on her neck where he knew her pulse would be racing. He knew if he placed his lips to it just how the noise she would make would sound. Her hair, usually pulled back into a tidy bun, had come loose and now framed her face in a halo of curls. It may have been two years since they started dating, but Jack still found himself completely and utterly captivated by her.

As they finished their dinner, Trevor nudged Jack and motioned for him to follow him to the bathroom. "Look," Trevor whispered, "I know you love her and all, but she's holding you back, man. You need to live a little, go out with all of us, have some fun." Jack sighed, feeling torn. He knew that Trevor was his best friend, but he also knew how important y/n was to him. He didn't want to lose her, no he couldn’t lose her, but he didn't want to miss out on all the adventures he could still be having with his friends.

"Why don't you come out with us anymore?" Trevor asked bluntly. "You used to be the life of the party. Now you're just...different." Jack hung his head, unsure how to respond. "I just want you to be happy, man. I really think you're making a mistake by staying with her." Trevor opened the bathroom door and walked back towards the tables. It was purely happen chance he was even here and Jack was too. Trevor on a date while Jack was on one too.

The two boys returned to their respective tables, Jack couldn't shake the uneasy feeling in tightly churning in his gut. Trevor was on to something; he did miss going out with all their friends and having their crazy adventures. But y/n was everything to him. She made him feel loved in ways he had never experienced and supported him in everything he did. It may have only been two years, but Jack couldn't imagine his life without her now. He knew he couldn't continue like this, though. Something had to give.

That night after dinner, as the two walked hand in hand through the park, Jack managed to gather up the courage to confront his new worries with y/n. "Hey, there's something I want to talk to you about," he said, his voice barely registering over the children still playing on the playground. Y/n stopped and turned to face him, her eyes instantly filled with concern. "What's wrong, Jack?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I love you, y/n. I love you so much. You know that. But I feel like I'm missing out on a lot with my friends. I want to be able to spend time with them like I used to." He looked down at his girlfriend who drew in and chewed on her lower lip, clearly being hurt by his words.

"Jackie, I thought we had talked about this.. I thought you trusted me enough to know that I would never stand in the way of your friendships?. If anything, I want you to have them in your life more. You are my life, today, tomorrow, hopefully next week and further, but I want you to have a life outside of me too. I love you more than you probably think I do, but that doesn’t mean we always have to be together.” Y/n told the sweet boy standing before her. He was awestruck while she was speaking.

He looked at her, his eyes searching hers for any hint of deception. An action he instantly felt guilty for. He should’ve never let his friends inside his head. Seeing nothing but sincerity, he exhaled slowly.

"I guess I just... I just need to find a balance, huh?" She nodded, wrapping her arms around him. "I'll always be here for you, jackie. And I want you to know that I understand. We'll figure this out together."

The next weekend, Jack and y/n arranged a "double date night" with Trevor and his newest girl. The four of them went to one of the local art galleries, something y/n loved to do, afterwards they went to a cozy Italian restaurant for dinner.

As they walked side by side, Jack was overcome with a sense of excitement and anticipation. Both had been building within him since the plans were made. For the first time since meeting y/n, he felt like he was truly experiencing something elating again.

The entirety of the night was filled with wholesome laughter and conversations about everything and anything, as both couples shared stories and experiences, and found common ground in their shared love for art and food. Y/n and Trevor even managed to strike up a conversation about their favorite artists and sport teams, which surprised Jack and made him smile. He had never really thought of his best friend and y/n having much in common, but it seemed like tonight was proving him wrong.

“Seems you picked a good one Rowdy.” Trevor snickered referring to y/n. “I’m glad you changed your mind about her Zegras. But I didn’t just pick a good one, I picked the best one. At least for me.” Jack was smitten with her and Trevor fake gagged. Earning himself a laugh from all of them.

While they finished their meals and sipped on their respective drinks, the atmosphere in the restaurant shifted ever so slightly. The lights were dimmed, and a soft, romantic medley filled the room. Jack caught y/n glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, an expanse flush of warmth spread through his chest.

In that moment, Jack realized that this was exactly what he needed: a balance between his relationship with her and his friendship. He didn't have to choose between them anymore.

As the music continued, Trevor and his date excused themselves to the dance floor, leaving Jack and y/n with a moment to themselves. She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling practically screaming out her love for him and Jack himself was flooded with a rush of his affection for her.

He leaned down, gently brushing his lips against hers, whispering a quick intimate “i love you”. He placed another kiss on her lips, meant to be soft and innocent but as their kiss deepened, the warm, content feeling of love and happiness spread throughout both of them.

The rest of the night flew by in a blur of conversation, laughter, and dancing. They all truly seemed to enjoy each other's company, and Jack couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected gift. As the night drew to a close, they agreed to get together again in the coming weeks. Trevor and Jack said their goodbyes before everyone went their separate ways.

“Y/n?” Jack called out softly from beside her. She glanced up at him, as if to ask him ‘what?’ “Thank you for tonight. I really appreciate what you’ve done for me. For us.” She squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. “I love you, I don’t know how I got so lucky to have you but I hope I keep staying lucky.” Jack brought her hand up to his lips placing a quick kiss to the top of it.

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | NO MORE HOCKEY PLAYERS!

REQUEST. : I think this might be too vague but can I request IceHockey!James x Reader angst with fluffy ending. I'm acc in love with the way you write him 🤍🤍 ⏤requested by anon

LENGTH : 1.9k

TAGS : modern au ; muggle au ; ice hockey player james potter ; enemies to lovers? but not really? ; enemies by association to lovers? ; protective james potter ; precious reader ; oc!andrew ; reader in a bad relationship ; james being the knight in shining hockey gear ; angst with fluff ending

WARNINGS : toxic relationship ; mentions of mistreatment in a relationship

You knew what was coming. It was something you were used to seeing, to dealing with in the two years you’ve been dating Andrew. As captain of the Ice Hockey team at Imperial College London and playing the Right-Wing Forward position, he was oftentimes compared to his more prominent, more celebrated counterpart, James Potter. 

James Potter was the Ice Hockey captain of his team at UCL and also played the Right-Wing Forward position. Through this similarity, they were often compared and Andrew was beyond irritated by the fact. Irritated and fed up. James never appeared to mind the comparisons, however. In fact, he took it in stride because, in his eyes, the results of a fair game will put the constant equating to rest. 

Andrew was passionate about the sport, he really was, his position as Captain was evidence of that dedication, however the constant comparisons in his ear made him highly aggressive on top of his already present anger issues. It wasn’t like this in the beginning, he was once very sweet and caring towards you, aware of your needs and was as much of a best friend as he was your boyfriend. Yes, you weren’t exempt from the occasional disagreement or shouting competition but it’s been so much worse as of late. 

Just a couple of months ago, he lost a game to James’ team and finally snapped to the point that he managed to make the usually grinning and charming James Potter flush red with anger and commenced a screaming match that inaugurated an infamous rivalry between the two. That one win against him was also the tipping point for all the whispers comparing the two to sharply peak in favour of James. Now, there was always an undertone of James being viewed as the better one of the two. More charismatic, more diligent, more empathetic, more resilient, more consistent, more respectable… more handsome. All of which fanned the flames of your boyfriend’s anger until it reached dangerous levels. 

The matches against them were, now, much more exhilarating but also much more aggressive. It frightened you the first time you saw them play against each other after that horrific encounter the previous game. This wasn’t a good display of sportsmanship. They were like two lions going after each other’s throats, pushing and shoving and colliding at top speeds, baring their teeth menacingly but neither side conceding defeat – they refused to surrender; one had to fall for the other to rise. It was horrifying to witness. You worried for Andrew but you also worried for James. They were both equal in brawn and stature so anything could happen to either side and they weren’t the least bit shy in making their belligerent intentions known. Bruises and sore limbs were expected from the sport but you feared that something more serious could be anticipated in the conflict between the two. 

Your heart was almost ready to burst out of your chest when each game began and ended. It didn’t help that you were a frequent witness to Andrew’s harsh criticism towards his own team. Due to his frustrations and boiling anger, he demanded more of himself and, by extension, demanded more of his teammates as well. Many times, you tried to remind him of the fact that he wasn’t going about disciplining or encouraging his team in the right way. A familiar confrontation once became a huge fight that his teammates had to get in the middle of, worried for you, who they had come to think of as part of their own and, vice versa. Gradually, his support from the team dwindled, which meant that, during his combative encounters with James in the rink, he was slowly being left on his own with no one to assist him. He was playing at a higher risk each game and it hurt you to watch. Your love might have dwindled during Andrew’s self-destructive tirade but that didn’t mean you didn’t care for his well-being. 

The result was inevitable. Owing to the lack of support from his own teammates and having to counter James’ antagonistic plays by himself, Andrew’s anger and jealousy grew and grew. It was a slap to the face when, at every re-match, his self-sabotaging behaviour led to James and his team’s victory. It was predictable, even for you, but you supported Andrew through it all. 

At the end of the match, Andrew sulked in the locker rooms while the rest of the team hurried away, disgruntled by their captain’s pathetic plays, selfish agenda and mistreatment towards them when pinning all the blame for their loss solely on their lack of collaboration when, truly, he was the only one to blame.

“It’ll be okay, Andy–” 

“Shut up!” his roaring shout bounced off the walls of the empty locker room. His voice echoed with mourning, betrayal and burning hot rage. It made your shoulders tense from the rising tension. 

“Andrew, the way you’re acting i-it isn’t right–!” you tried to reason with him despite his hulking form and much larger frame intimidating you. He didn’t even have to look into your eyes for a shiver to run down your spine; the slamming of his locker door, the throwing of his clothes and the reckless handling of his equipment was enough to make you flinch each time. 

“YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO TELL ME WHAT’S RIGHT OR WRONG!” he argues through clenched teeth, pushing the locker room doors open and letting it swing back, almost hitting you as you scurry up behind him. 

“Well, you should, at least, try!” In a moment of bravery, you puff out your chest and glare at him, your eyes shining with thinly disguised disappointment and fear. He wasn’t like the Andrew you knew at all… this horrible, violent person was nothing like the Andrew you fell in love with two years ago, “I know you can be a great captain but you’re running yourself and your own team into the ground! Learn to put your ego aside for once!” 

“WHY YOU!-- WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT TO LECTURE ME?!” his large hand raises and comes swinging down. It’s too late to react, you can only pinch your eyes closed and wait for the impact to come with clenched teeth. 

“WHAT RIGHT DO YOU HAVE TO HIT HER?!” 

The hit never came. Instead, your eyes snap open to stare in shock at James Potter gripping the wrist of your boyfriend and pushing him away as he tucks you behind him. Too shocked at the situation and the sudden appearance of your boyfriend’s counterpart, you can’t help but just gape at the situation. 

No no no! This isn’t meant to happen! You should have left the argument in the locker room! 

“She’s my girlfriend! Dipshit!” Andrew snarls and tries to reach for you again but James steps in the way, blocking your view. He’s a solid mountain between you and your irate boyfriend. For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. 

“That gives you even less of a right, not that you had any right to hit anyone to begin with,” James pants lightly, his heightened anger making him feel as though he’s run a mile, “If she’s your girl, you should treat her better! Acting like this after a loss is pathetic but pinning it onto your lady is disgusting!” James can handle rough play on the rink because he’s trained for it and he’s grown the thick skin to endure all kinds of impacts. But, when he sees violence like this outside the rink, it’s beyond infuriating, it makes him see red, it makes him want to throw all manner of good will out the window and go charging in like a stubborn bull.

“Fuck! Off!” Andrew shoves him away and grabs your upper arm, tugging you away without any regard for the force in his grip. It happened much too quickly that you couldn’t comprehend everything until you felt a stinging pain bloom in your arm under his grip. 

“Ow!… Andrew, stop, please! You’re hurting me!”

“I don’t care! Hurry! Up!” he gives another aggressive tug and you squeal from the pain, willing yourself to suppress it so as to not anger him further. But your cry of hurt was enough to set off an unbelievable chain reaction.

There was a dull but harsh THUMP as James’ clenched fist collides with Andrew’s face, sending him sprawling as two gentle hands come up to your shoulders and gently pull you away from the scene. Those same two hands turn you around and carefully move down to press against your lower back, acting as a guide to lead you a safe distance away. The girl introduces herself as Alice, the girlfriend of Frank, who was the goalie of the UCL team. She leads you with a sympathetic smile past the rest of the James’ teammates, who face forward and grit their teeth at what they were just the witnesses to, some even stepping forward. Whether they wanted to join in or not, you didn’t find out but one was tall with mousy brown hair and the other had dark black hair against pale paper skin and grey eyes – the left defence and the centre of the UCL team. 

“You’re okay…” Alice whispers softly, hurrying you along as the sound of punches begin to echo through the hallway, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” 

As tears slip past your lash line, a shaky whimper escapes your bitten lips and you accept her comfort with a small nod.

Suffice to say, you and Andrew broke up. And for good reason. Many people couldn’t even fathom that someone as soft-hearted and sweet as you would ever give someone like Andrew the time of day when you deserved so much more. What they don’t understand is that he was never like that when you first met… but, you suppose, he finally showed his true colours. But thanks to that, you’ve sworn off dating hockey players ever again! 

“Oh!” a happy acknowledgement sounds and draws your eyes up to see a handsome, boyish grin beaming down at you, “It’s you!” His freshly washed locks drip with water and he moves to close the locker room door behind him when his words bring the attention of curious eyes from the rest of his team, all peaking a glimpse of you around his frame.

“Yeah…” you smile softly, nerves shaking anxiously as your hands clasp together for some stability, “sorry for suddenly showing up,”

“It’s alright,” James’ beaming smile doesn’t fade the slightest bit as his eyes shine with relief, “I’m just glad you’re looking okay,”

“Yeah, all thanks to you,” the compliment makes him flush bashfully as a large hand comes up to rub the back of his neck. For a guy with a bear-like frame, he pulls off the adorable puppy look pretty well.

“Did you watch the game?” he hurries to change the topic and instead of answering, you hold up a cutely wrapped batch of homemade cookies. Andrew was once the only person who had exclusive access to your home baked goodies but he lost that privilege a long time ago. It’s time to associate your baking with something (someone) more positive and deserving. 

“Wow! Thanks!” James eyes your offer with wide eyes and was already drooling from the sugary scent in the air, seducing him into taking it and having a bite. You smile at his moans of gratification and allow his free flowing compliments to boost your confidence, “will you be coming to our next game?” he suddenly asks, catching you off guard. 

“Uhh..--”

“Please come,” his eyes plead with you but when you don’t answer, he bargains, “I’ll win it for you,” 

No more hockey players be damned.

A/N : i love writing hockey player james potter too~ he's just so dreamy! ahhhhh! it's probably one of my favourite aus of james potter! (,,o // o,,) thank you so much for the request, anon-darling! im so sorry for taking so long, i hope you enjoy the read!

NAVI.

TAGLIST : @melinajenkins @aastonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @chaosofmanyfandoms @storyofaromance @loving-and-dreaming @somewereinthegalaxi @ashreblogsficshere @cassandra-nerezza-black @stray-bi-kids @ttkttt @notasadgirlipromise @desikudisworld @volturissideslut

@arilxup88 @fallencrescentmoon @topaz125 @xxrougefangxx @starchaser-lily @probablypossesedbysatan @agent-tempest @veryberryjelly @th3-st4r-gur1 @sousydive @delusional-4-fake-people @linaax @girl-detective16 @riaa-moony @ericityyy @ghostgardn @rosalyn-s @seungtelevision

[lovelyhan]

kai… my love, my most beloved and precious kai.. imagine inflection point cheol pulling you into the locker room after his teammates leave to warm up so that he can fuck you against his locker because he says it brings him good luck before a game.. and while you’re watching him play, hannie notices that a little bit of cheols cum is dropping down your thigh so he pulls you into the bathroom of your private seating area and he fucks cheols cum back inside of you and then stuffs you with his cum as well.. and when cheol greets you after the game with sloppy kisses cause he needs to fuck the adrenaline of winning out he notices you’re full of more cum then he left you with and he gets all pouty because you and hannie went to fuck instead of watching him play (and maybe he decides to be mean to the both of you that night with rough sex that leaves you and hannie completely dumb and sore…)

(love from inflection points #1 fan)

SC & JH — 02:55

you're insane. you're crazy. why would you leave this here? have you thought about my wellbeing??????

warnings: established poly, mlm undertones, smut (MINORS DNI)

a request for the inflection point series!

even when you dated him the first time, you were well aware that choi seungcheol is nothing short of insane.

but for your multimillionaire athlete of a boyfriend to purposely stay behind when all his teammates were headed to the field for a reason like this?

honestly? you completely expected it.

"this pretty pussy's just what i needed, baby," seungcheol rasps into your ear as he drives his aching cock into you with ruthless precision. "my little good luck charm."

you respond with a moan muffled into the palm of your clammy hand as your boyfriend pounds you into the cool metal of the lockers. unfortunately for you, this isn't the first time seungcheol was shameless enough to lie to his team—saying that he needed to have a word with you first before catching up for pre-game warm-ups.

of course, none of the other boys bought their captain's lie. you could've sworn you heard mingyu bet on how long seungcheol is going to take this time with wonwoo, but that's besides the point, really.

"remember when you used to kiss me for good luck before my games back in high school?" he chuckles, mouthing at the curve of your neck.

"t-this...this isn't just kissing, cheol," you mewl when he sucks at the skin above your thrumming pulse, arching your back against the vertical surface behind you as seungcheol paws at your tits through an old jersey of his that you repurposed into a crop top. "hurry up! hannie's already waiting for me, you horny idiot!"

your walls squeeze around his length like a vice—your juices squelching with each pass into your tight cunt. neither of you have enough time to fool around whenever seungcheol gets in the mood for a quickie in the locker rooms, so it's a good thing your boyfriend knows you well enough to make you come in record time.

his cock slams into you even harder when he crushes his mouth back onto yours—swallowing your lovely little moans as heavy balls slap against your mound. your skirt's more than ruffled at this point, but you can't bring yourself to care when he fucks you so good.

"you're squeezing so tight around me, sweetheart," he sighs against your lips—eyes glazed with equal parts lust and adoration as he hooks both of your thighs across his elbows. "you can pretend all you want how much you're in a hurry, but your cunt's telling me another story. my baby wants me to take my sweet time stuffing her full, huh?"

his blatant display of strength is so fucking hot, the pleasure he's giving you merely intensifies. seungcheol smirks when he feels your pussy flutter around his length—loving the way your eyes nearly roll to the back of your skull as he wrecks you in the name of good fortune.

"y-your cock's too big, cheolie," you mewl, biting your bottom lip to keep your moans from spilling out.

"too big? but weren't you the little minx who insisted that she could take me and jeonghan in her tiny pussy at the same time?" he taunts, quoting something you blurted out in a fucked out delirium sometime ago. "suddenly can't take it when i'm splitting you open anymore? what happened to all that spunk, baby?"

"quit stalling and just come inside me, jerk!"

seungcheol heaves another condescending laugh before pressing a firm kiss on your lips.

"gonna fill you up and you'll go sit right next to han during my game with your pussy dripping with my cum. make sure you don't waste a single drop, okay beautiful?"

you're far from your own release but it's the last thing on your mind when you're working on a time limit. nonetheless, you still preen at the feeling seungcheol twitch inside you before his thick cum gushes into your cunt in white hot spurts. you love it when he claims you like this—painting you in colors only he can mix together.

your athlete boyfriend does the honors of helping you put your underwear back on—making sure to pull the cotton taut against your ruined cunt to make you feel just how much he came inside you. the bastard even pats your pussy over the fabric with a sleazy smile.

"don't waste a drop, alright?"

"there you are."

jeonghan's relieved tone makes you a little guilty when he welcomes you to the private viewing deck he rented out in the stadium. while you typically enjoyed being surrounded by the defeating cheers of other onlookers in the stands, it's nice to have your own private space after what seungcheol just put you through.

"the game's about to start. i was starting to wonder where you ran off to this time." jeonghan pouts before helping you to your seat by the wide viewing glass.

you feel your face flush several shades darker, wondering if you did a good enough job at straightening yourself out in the restroom before hurrying over here. if jeonghan notices your internal distress, he doesn't show it.

today's game is a fundraiser of sorts for helping aspiring athletes who can't afford to go to prestigious sports universities in the country. the company that you and jeonghan work for is one of the main sponsors for the event, but even if it wasn't, you'd still be more than happy to watch one of seungcheol's games with him.

at least, that would be the case if you weren't squirming in your seat every ten seconds.

jeonghan, ever-so keen with your mannerisms, glances at you five minutes into the first half.

"you okay, sweetheart?" your boss-turned-boyfriend murmurs. "you're looking a little flushed. and sweaty. should i turn up the ac?"

you shake your head vigorously, pressing your thighs together as you hold back any lewd noises from the sensation of seungcheol's cum seeping out of your entrance. "n-no, i'm good, hannie. i'm just a little worn out from running all the way here."

the look on his face tells you he isn't convinced by your reasoning, but by the grace of whatever gods are out there, jeonghan lets it slide.

ten minutes in, your high-strung body is starting to cool down—the need for release that pulsed heavily in your core now subsiding into a dull ache. you manage to follow seungcheol's form around the field without wanting to kill him for leaving you high and dry.

thirty minutes in, jeonghan places a hand on your thigh—a gesture you don't really think twice about because he's always liked offering up the comfort of his touch even when you don't ask for it.

by the time the second half starts, that seemingly innocent hand starts to creep up your skirt.

"oh? so that's why," he chuckles when he finally discovers the mess between your thighs. "should've known cheol whisked you off for his new pre-game ritual again."

you can't help the way your thighs inch further apart as jeonghan massages your slit through your soiled underwear, making even more of seungcheol's release dribble out of your hole.

"hannie," you plead without really knowing what you're asking for.

your boss lets out a soft laugh, leaning in to plant a chaste kiss on your nose all while he starts building up your arousal all over again. "what is it, baby? our boyfriend's cum wasn't enough for you? greedy girl."

you shake your head, pawing at his chest to tug him closer. "didn't come..."

"hm? what's that?"

oh, fuck it.

disregarding the possibility of being seen by others outside the viewing deck, you slide yourself over to jeonghan's lap—facing him with a pathetically horny look on your face as you grind your hips into his. seungcheol's cum easily seeps through your panties and onto jeonghan's trousers, but your boss is the last person to scold you for such promiscuous behavior.

"cheol didn't make me come," you whine as jeonghan's hands rest against your hips. "wanna come so bad, hannie. need it. need you."

jeonghan shakes his head with an amused laugh as you continue grinding yourself onto his hardening length.

"one of the company's best employees, reduced into a cockdrunk mess on my lap," your lover tuts before thrusting his hips to give you the friction you craved. "want me to take you right here? where everyone can see?"

you do. god, you really fucking do, but—

"bathroom?" you ask meekly, and it jeonghan springs into action in a heartbeat.

your boyfriend forgoes all the foreplay he'd typically resort to when he's about to split you in half on his cock—knowing full well that the passage will be much too easy with how much cheol left you to deal with.

"he's such a selfish little bastard sometimes, no?" jeonghan sighs with false sympathy as he props you up against the sink—the sound of him unzipping his trousers like music to your ears. "pulls our princess to the side to fuck her and doesn't even think about making her come? he left such a filthy mess behind, too."

you nod a little mindlessly, practically drooling at the sight if jeonghan pumping his length into full hardness. "you'll make me feel good, right hannie?"

your boss flashes you a lazy smile as he slides his cock along your sensitive slit—making those prickles of pleasure flare across your skin once more.

"when have i ever said no to you, darling?"

he slides almost too easily into your velvet heat, cursing at how filthy you feel around him with yours and cheol's combined release coating his length. but this is far from the first time jeonghan's had seungcheol's sloppy seconds, and he easily sets a rhythm that has you curling into his embrace as he fucks your other boyfriend's cum back inside you.

"been a while since we had sex this messy," jeonghan groans, his beautiful face coming into view when he grabs your chin and forces you to meet his gaze. "i fucking love it when your slutty little pussy's filled to the brim. i'm no olympic-level athlete like cheol out there, but i can fuck you until morning if you asked me to, sweetheart."

your trembling fingers manage to find purchase on the front of his neatly pressed button-up, your muscles clenching around jeonghan's thick length as he drives himself into you with fervor that could rival seungcheol's.

"fuck, fuck, fuck," you whimper, lacing your fingers around his nape. "hannie, f-feels so good. so fucking good. wanna come on your cock. please, i'll be good. i'll be so good for you, i promise."

another thing jeonghan likes about fucking you when you're high off your own desperation is how mouthy you get. under normal circumstances, you'd be too embarrassed to start babbling like the cock hungry mess you are right now, so he'll definitely milk this opportunity for all it's worth.

the sight of seungcheol's cum gathering at the base of his cock in a creamy ring nearly makes him come on the spot. the sound that echoes in the tiled walls as jeonghan fucks it all back into you makes his head swim and he knows perfectly well that you're feeling the exact same way.

"our sweet little princess is already so good for us though," he coos, leaning closer so that you can feel his uneven breath on your face. "you let cheol use this cute pussy of yours for some stupid good luck ritual even if he didn't make you come."

he emphasizes the words with a harsh thrust that quite literally drives you up the wall and you croon out his name like it's the only word you know.

"h-hannie," you pant with a line of moisture pooling across your lasbes, desperately bucking your hips to meet his erratic thrusts as you claw your way to the apex of release. "'m so close, fuck. need you harder—deeper."

"demanding as always," he laughs softly before planting another kiss on the tip of your nose. if you weren't so fucking close to tears, you would've protested. "i got you, sweetheart. i'll let you come as many times as you want. our pretty baby deserves as much."

making good on his own promise, jeonghan fucks into you at an angle that has stars dancing in the seams of your vision. your lover sneaks a hand between your joined thighs, rubbing your oversensitive clit in tight circles that have you biting into his clothed shoulder.

your walls start to clench deliciously around his cock as you wrap your legs around his hips to pull him closer—not wanting even a microcosm of space to come between you.

"you're gonna let me come in this sloppy pussy, princess?" he whispers, the breathlessness in his voice betraying his composure. "gonna let me use you like cheol did? don't worry though, darling. unlike him, i won't leave you wanting."

the sincerity in his voice, coupled with the sparks of sensation shooting down your spine every time the pads of his fingers graze your clit it what pushes you over the edge. jeonghan silences your loud moan with a firm kiss, fucking you through your much-anticipated orgasm as he pinpoints his own.

"so fucking good for me, our sweet little baby," he growls as the mess between your thighs drips onto the marble sink. "fucking love how your cunt squeezes around me. i'm so close, darling. do you want me to—"

jeonghan's words are interrupted with an open-mouthed kiss as you slide your hot tongue against his. "give it to me, hannie," you breathe without pulling away, fingers threading themselves into his messy hair. "want your cum with cheol's. wanna be filled with both of you."

oh, he's only a man and you're one of the two best things that ever happened to him. how could he not heed your wishes?

as promised, jeonghan releases into your abused cunt with a guttural noise, hips never ceasing as he pumps his load inside you. you feel so full—both of your lovers' cum mixing in the sloppiest mess you've ever had between your thighs.

yet somehow, just when the two of you finally caught your breath and jeonghan is just about to offer to clean you up, you lower yourself back onto the floor—turning around with shaky legs as you bend over the sink to present the masterpiece they've made out of your cunt.

then, with the most devilishly innocent look you can muster:

"can you give me more, hannie?"

Cheol: where are you guys? you told me you'll both meet me by the locker rooms after the game. don't tell me you left without me :(

Hannie: we're kind of busy, babe

Cheol: ? busy with what?

Cheol: what could be more important than congratulating me after we won the game?

Hannie: [Sent an image.]

Cheol: oh. OH. so THAT'S how it's gonna be

Cheol: having fun without me again... you're both going to get it tonight, mark my words

Hannie: we never complain when you have fun with either of us when the other's not around, big sulky baby

Hannie: and cut her some slack. this one's taken enough cock for today, don't you think?

Cheol: well, i still need to get the adrenaline out of my system. what do you suggest i do about it huh?

Hannie: :)

Hannie: i gladly offer myself as tribute

[lecsainz]

YOU GAVE UP

˒ ⌕ masterlist . . .

parings: charles leclerc + fem!reader

summary: the one where your relationship with charles is about to end

🗒️: someone asked me but I couldn’t find the request, so here it is!

type: angst ✶

The sun had cast its final golden rays over the coastal town where Charles and Y/N had once wandered hand in hand, sharing dreams and secrets amidst the sea breeze. But now, as the evening descended, it felt different, almost haunted.

Y/N leaned against the balcony, her heart heavy with the weight of their crumbling relationship. Four years of laughter, companionship, and shared dreams seemed to slip away like sand between her fingers. There was a time when Charles was all she saw, his infectious smile lighting up her world. But lately, it was replaced by a hollow ache, the constant whispers of his absence eating away at her soul.

"Y/N," Charles' voice interrupted her reverie. She turned to find him standing at the doorway, his eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions—regret, weariness, and an unfamiliar distance. "Can we talk?"

She nodded, the lump in her throat preventing any words from escaping. Sitting on the edge of the bed, they faced each other, the space between them heavy with unsaid words.

"I'm sorry," Charles began, his voice almost a whisper. "I've been distant, consumed by the demands of racing, the pressure...I've lost sight of us."

"Lost sight of us?" Y/N repeated, her voice barely audible. "We were everything, Charles. How could you not see it slipping away?"

He hesitated, his eyes avoiding hers. "I've been selfish, thinking I could balance it all. But it's not fair to you. And now, there are rumors...about someone else."

The words hit Y/N like a blow to the chest. Rumors—of Charles with someone else. She wanted to protest, to deny the possibility, but the pain in his eyes confirmed what she feared.

"Is it true?" she managed to choke out.

"I’m sorry Y//N/N," Charles admitted, his voice strained. "But I don't want to hurt you anymore. You deserve better than this uncertainty, this neglect."

Tears streamed down Y/N's cheeks as she stood up, the reality of their impending end sinking in. "I gave you everything, Charles. All I did was bleed trying to salvage what we had."

"I know," he whispered, reaching out but retracting his hand before it touched hers. "But it's too late, isn't it? We're too far gone."

She nodded, her heart shattering into a million pieces. "Stop, Charles. Stop saying it's too late when it's you who gave up."

[bonniepop]

Omggggg can you stop with the Sugawara fics??? I love them both and really want to know what happens next 😭😭😭 I’m so invested pls pls pls I hope there’s a part 3 🙏🙏🙏🙏

parts: 1 / 2 / 3

—

"hey."

you freeze in your tracks a few steps outside the grocery store and wince. you should've known this would end badly.

"are you actually trying to run away?"

you pout, mildly offended that he'd implied that the effort was futile. "i was succeeding until you showed up." you turn to face suga's disappointed stare—a gently wrinkled brow and the corners of his mouth softly turned downward. a cold breeze brushes across the air and while it ruffles his hair, it makes your hands shake.

"can you please just stop this?" he tells you, as if scolding you. you try not to bolt as he approaches you. he opens his mouth when he stops in front of you, and you have to tilt your head up to keep his gaze. "i—" he starts, then sighs. "i did something, didn't i?"

you swallow down your nervousness. "what do you mean?"

"you're acting like i—" he stops himself and shakes his head. "look, i—i'm sorry. you've been avoiding me all week, so whatever it is i did, i'm sorry." he reaches forward to take your wrist and you try not to shiver.

"you didn't do anything," you can't help but mumble, your stomach roiling.

his face melts into what can only called pure sadness. "then why do you keep avoiding me?"

your heart twists and you can't help the prick of heat behind your eyes. "i—" you try to say, but it lodges itself in your throat. you look down, blinking rapidly.

"hey." suga's voice is soft and warm and comforting. "why are you crying?"

"i'm sorry," you say, but your voice cracks. you're overwhelmed with emotion—sadness, embarrassment, longing. your body handles it the only way it knows how: through tears.

suga collects you into his embrace. "hey, it's okay," he murmurs into your hair. "you're okay."

"i'm—so—sorry," you sob against his shirt. "i don't know why i acted that way. you probably hate me now."

his chest rumbles with a gentle laugh, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your upper back. "that's impossible. 'hate' is the furthest thing from what i feel for you."

you pull away with a sniff and wipe your eyes with your knuckles. "i'm sorry," you say again, voice thick from crying.

"stop apologizing," suga laughs. "you didn't do anything wrong, okay? stop apologizing."

"i ignored you," you pointed out, embarrassed.

his smile turned impossibly understanding. "that doesn't mean you did something wrong."

his words make you inexplicably annoyed, and a fresh wave of tears fall from your eyes. "can you stop being so nice to me?" you say, yanking yourself away. "you should hate me."

"but i don't," suga insists, letting you pull away. "can you please just—please, just talk to me. i don't get why you're acting this way." he tries to reach for your hand again but you pull it back and it makes him shake his head. "i don't understand why you're pulling away. did i do something? do you—" he sighs. "do you hate me?"

you feel cornered by the question and shake your head.

"so please, tell me what's going on!" suga practically begs. "you're my best friend, okay? this is—i want to help, whatever it is. but i can't help if i don't know what's going on."

you read his face and see the silent plea. with a shaky breath, you push back your hair and wipe away your tears and try to stand as tall as you can. this is as much as you can take.

"i like you," you say. it comes out softer than you would've liked, so you clear your throat and repeat yourself. "i like you."

suga watches you with wide, curious eyes.

"i can't be friends with you anymore," you tell him, trying not to break. "i can't be, not anymore, because i can't—i can't—" you roughly wipe at your cheek with the back of your hand and meet his gaze defiantly.

and then he laughs.

it's a rich, deep sound that you know has his belly aching, and it's all the more humiliating. you watch him keel over as he guffaws, and your insides turn cold, but it's not a shock. it's like you hoped for this outcome, and your body finally loosens after it tensed itself for the inevitable blow.

once you get sensation back, you turn to leave, but his hand grabs your arm and holds you in place.

sugawara's laugh peters out not long after, and when he straightens, he looks radiant. his eyes crinkle at the corners with joy, his mouth curved into a satisfied smile, and his cheeks are a lovely shade of pink.

"god," he laughs, "we can never do things normally, can we? we really have to do this in front of a grocery store after not talking for a week?"

your brow wrinkles and you open your mouth to demand what exactly does he mean by that, but your mind blanks out when he catches your jaw in his hand and slots his mouth against yours.

[saleeba]

thigh riding ; jude bellingham 🖤

summary ♡ i mean, literally what it says on the tin.

pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+ (mdni), smut, established relationship, thigh riding ofccc, softdom!jude (?), dirty talk, reader is a whiny mess, tiny bit of cunnilingus at the start, lots of making out bc jude bellingham having the most perfect lips and me not putting them to work would be an injustice, teeny bit of tit play, 0 plot 100% porn

a/n ♡ (yet another repost since tumblr hates me & decided to delete the last one 🫠) anon hiiii tysm for the request and for the lovely compliment 🥺💘 i hope this is what ur looking for <33 pls lmk if u have any feedback/requests my luvs :3

“oh, oh my god,” you purr, legs akimbo on the soft couch where you’re engaging in all things sinful with your boyfriend who’s kneeling on the stone-cold floor, your back arching off the material which causes jude to moan from the way your pussy pushes further onto his face.

the room is cool but your bodies are lit with the fuel of arousal. you’re completely naked by the way, jude’s one remaining item of clothing being the tight black briefs that put a strain on his rock solid cock. to say you can only see the outline of it would be an understatement. you could have sworn you’ve seen it twitch at least three times.

he’s been at it for the best part of twenty minutes now, tongue dipping in and out of your wet hole, but most of his mouth’s focus is on your growingly sensitive clit, every muscle working hard to suck, tease and kiss the bundle of nerves.

you haven’t been given the gift of even one orgasm in those twenty minutes however, the requests coming from your boyfriend’s swollen and pussy juice-coated lips insisting on you not cumming just yet and if you can hold on now, i promise i’ll make it worth the wait, darling.

jude’s tongue laps increasingly faster as the seconds pass, your eyes almost getting wetter than your soaked cunt over how unfair he’s being right now. your hands restlessly pull at his dark ringlets of hair, the moans leaving your mouth starting to become even more frenzied.

“oh fuck, jude, please,” you elongate the last syllable of that plea to show how desperate you are to finish all over his plump lips and skilled tongue, spine curving even more in an attempt to make him change his mind; change whatever he’s been planning and to just let you coat his mouth and chin with your cum.

his lips pull away from you before his large hands bring your shaking legs together, and you’re unable to comprehend how he can stop eating out your pulsating cunt and leave you unfulfilled so easily. a whine of exasperation subconsciously exits your throat.

jude bites his bottom lip to stifle a chuckle, standing up and sitting in the space on the sofa right next to you, feet firmly planted on the wooden floor.

“i promised that i would make all the teasing worth your while, right, baby?” he leans in to plant a small kiss on your pouting lips, unintentionally deepening it when he finds you laying your palms on his chest and kissing back with all the misplaced fervour you’d lost while chasing a high that never came from when his lips were lower down your body. you whine against the softness of his mouth, your own lips slightly parting to leave breathy moans. jude partially gapes his mouth too, taking in all the sounds and sighs imparting from your throat before he takes your mouth in his again, the two of you now passionately making out on the couch. before you both get carried away in the embrace of each other’s wandering hands, jude pulls away, leaving a conclusive smooch over the pout on your sweet face.

“come sit here then, darling.”

he spreads his legs and pats his left thigh, the one closest to you, and you almost haphazardly roll over in sheer desperation, the thought of your wetness on his bare skin creating a deliciously anticipating feeling in the bottom of your stomach.

as you hover over his thigh, jude can feel the heat of your cunt from inches away, gulping at the way your breathing gets shakier before you position yourself on his toned muscle with a satisfied groan.

“good girl,” he praises as you slip both hands onto his shoulders to anchor yourself, his own hands coming to grip you at the hips and hold you in place. “is my baby gonna ride me now, hm? ride my thigh until she gets what she deserves for being so good for me?” his wanton words make you clench down on the surface of his warm skin. you haven’t done this before but you’re determined to put on a show for jude and to finally enjoy the rewards of a well awaited orgasm.

you give him a hurried nod, shifting all your weight onto your hands and therefore his shoulders as you raise your body up slightly before coming back crashing onto him, a shameless moan leaving your lips when your cunt comes into contact with his thigh.

“ah, jude,” you whine out, hips rocking to run your slippery core up and down him. his spit from earlier and your own arousal helps to lubricate your gyrating movements, the ease of it all only making you move harder and faster on your lover’s thigh.

“you’re doing such a good job, sweetheart, fuck,” jude comments as he guides you on him, the slickness of your pussy turning him on beyond reason. “making a mess though, aren’t ya?” he looks down at the skin of his left thigh, now glistening with your juices.

you don’t move your eyes from his face but only whine some more, panting into the parting of his lips. “o-oh my god, jude, you feel so good.”

he grips onto your hips harder, surely leaving a bruise in the making, but you don’t care, the feeling of his muscular thigh so glorious under your drenched folds.

“you close, baby? let me help you out,” jude’s now grinding you against him himself, almost lunging your entire body into him. again you don’t mind because the sensation is so fucking good, your brain dizzy with the pretty image of his gritted teeth and dark furrowed brows. your clit throbs at the spectacle in front of and below you.

“want you to cum on my thigh, darling, need you to cum on my thigh,” he’s the one getting whiny now, voice reaching an ever so slightly higher frequency. “you deserve it, baby girl, let go for me, angel, cum all over me.” he slips the very tip of his thumb over your clit, making you nearly scream with the contrast of friction over the wet squelches of your cunt rubbing on him.

“jude, fuck, i’m so close, please,” you beg, not sure what you’re really asking for because jude is giving you his all, head ducked down and lips now on your left nipple, sucking and swirling it with his tongue, the stimulation feeding the journey to your orgasm. “shit, fuck, fuck.”

your mewling and moaning get louder, the sounds of your sopping cunt and the quiet groans coming from your lover heating up the air around you. jude pulls his mouth off your tit with a pop before his face comes into line with yours.

“cum for me, darling,” he coos, hands now at your waist to get a more centred control of your rapidly moving body. “my baby girl deserves to cum, been working so hard and so good for me, haven’t ya, sweetheart?” he flexes his thigh suddenly, the muscle seeming like it could almost penetrate you.

and with that, the cord in your lower stomach snaps. the explosive feeling travels right through to your weeping pussy where you make an unholy amount of mess on jude’s thigh, your cum gushing onto his brown skin.

you let out an almost anguished belter of a scream before jude catches it with his mouth, tongue slipping in to cradle yours as your moans get smaller and smaller, dissipating past his lips. pussy now clenching on him, he intensifies the kiss, guiding you to lay down on the sofa as he balances on top of you, hands still clasped on the contour of your waist, yours now hooked around his neck. your aching legs wrap around him instinctively and his mouth is hardworking as ever right now, dancing against yours in a heatedly sweet method.

it feels like hours before you both pull away for the sake of air, neither of you wanting to do so. jude leaves a romantically deep kiss on your lips before pulling his face up to look into your eyes.

“did so good for me, baby,” he mumbles, moving down to leave kisses on your neck as you take this opportunity to finally pant out the effects of your orgasm and catch your breath. “always so good for me.”

you experience the hardness of his cock twitch again, this time feeling it on your inner thigh. you’re not totally spent, right?

you lay a kiss on the tip of his nose before smiling oh so sweetly.

“let me repay you now, jude. please?”

[anachilles]

“So, what’s the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?”

Your firehouse buckies? 😍 or anything else with buck x bucky 💓

omg hi! and please yes give me all the excuses to write my firehouse!au buckies!! (for those who may not be familiar - this is firefighter!bucky and bartender/PhD student!buck) here's a little thing set significantly further along than where we're currently at in the actual fic lol. + shout out to @avonne-writes and their 'who's taking who's surname?' poll and the discourse for inspiring a little part of this lol. currently taking prompts from this list: [ x ]

"So, what's the prognosis, Doc? Am I gonna live?"

His voice hoarse and barely there, trust John to tease him even around the tail end of a thermometer, just as Gale went to pull it from his mouth.

'Suppose he can't be too sick if he still has jokes,' was the first thought that came to Gale's mind. The second thought though, sneaking up hot on the first's heels, was 'John would be cracking jokes on his damn deathbed so that really isn't as much of a reassurance as it should be.'

Gale squinted as he examined the numbers. The light was low in the early winter morning, the sun not having quite fully risen yet. He'd usually have switched even just his own bedside lamp on as he got himself ready to leave for the day, but with John's groan of protest that particular morning, he’d quickly switched off again.

It'd been a restless night, and even though they were both feeling the impact of John's tossing and turning, and the seemingly inability for him to breathe at all through his nose anymore, the man himself just looked downright exhausted with it. He'd eventually managed to fall asleep with his hot, clammy forehead pressed into the back of Gale’s neck, plastered to his back, and Gale hadn’t the heart to try and move him despite how he had then been overheating.

"You know there's another, arguably much more enjoyable way to do that..." John leered, even if half-heartedly, and if only to fill the silence as Gale's eyebrows pinched at whatever he saw on the little digital screen.

See, this is why they'd more or less permanently shacked up at Buck's place rather than his. He had stuff like thermometers lying around. Stuff an actual home has.

Gale looked up at him then, incredulous. "You're really trying to flirt with me, sitting there with a 101 degree fever?" he said, turning the thermometer as if to prove his point. Incredulous, but not surprised; not really.

"Baby, if I'm ever sick enough that I don't want to flirt with you, make you blush all pretty like you do, that's when you should be worried."

Gale had almost been tempted to smile at that, until John had to cut himself off, a sudden bout of congested coughing rattling from his throat.

Capturing the inner corner of his bottom lip between his teeth, Gale sighed, his long legs unfolding from beneath him and as he got up from where he'd been perching on his side of the bed. He crossed to John's bedside, pulling the covers further up around the other man’s chest.

Gale clicked his tongue slightly, though his expression and voice betrayed him in their co-ordinating softness. "All of this because you just had to be the hero and go jump in the damn lake."

Off to the side of them, Maverick jumped up onto the bed, sleepily curling in at Bucky's side in the warm spot Gale had just vacated. She bumped her head against John's hand, eager and impatient as the day Gale met her. John responded without even having to look away from the conversation, his fingers scritching at the especially soft little spot of fur behind each of her ears.

“Hey, I saved someone's life."

Gale wordlessly took his phone from his pocket, showing him the text he'd already gotten from Benny, "Just FYI - let the record show that the guy knew how to swim and your boy did not have to jump in after him."

Uh, since when did his team all acquire his boyfriend's number just for the purposes of ratting him out?

"Well how was I supposed to know that?! It’s called due diligence."

Either way, he'd ended up with what seemed to either be a wicked cold or the beginnings of the flu for his trouble.

"You make up for your lack of sympathy with your excellent bedside manner, Doctor" John said, talking half to himself as Gale strode out to the kitchen at the sound of the kettle whistling.

He continued as the other man reappeared a minute later, a steaming Fire Department-branded mug in one hand, his own filled travel mug in the other. "Huh, that's kind of funny, seeing as you will be and everything. Dr Cleven."

“Not that kind of doctor,” Gale muttered, and John breathed out a faint laugh. He knew the difference, duh, but it was cute when Gale interpreted things so literally sometimes before he could think about it.

Gale quirked a brow as he set the mug down on John’s bedside table, batting aside lozenge wrappers and tissues with the rim of it to make room.

"Y'know what has an even better ring to it, though? Dr Gale Egan..."

When the idea of marriage came up between them, it was always in an abstract, vague kind of sense, underpinned by off-hand comments and passing jokes relaying the image of some version of their life that lay a safe distance away on the horizon. It wasn't right in front of them yet, but it felt comfortably inevitable, which made talking about it casually not really a big deal. One of the more common jokes being what they do in terms of surnames.

Gale could tell John was sentimental about his father's name in a way he himself wasn't about his own. It was never said so outright, but he got the sense that it was either a matter of hyphenating (even with John's arguments that neither Cleven-Egan or Egan-Cleven 'sounded right'), or Gale taking John's.

When Gale thought about the idea of shedding his father's name, he felt so much nothing it almost pissed him off because shouldn't it evoke something? Is that not the most normal reaction to losing such a defining part of your identity, feeling some sense of sadness? Of loss? It felt more to him like shrugging off a grimy, weather-beaten old coat turned threadbare in the elements, not particularly pleasant but reliably familiar. It was simply what he had.

Looking now, he took in the pallid, rheumy face and contrastingly long, firm lines of a man who loved him like John loved him. Who loved him so unshakeably, proved to him over and over seemingly without even really having to try; who made it look easy. Who loved him in a way he didn't think he ever could be loved, or be prompted himself to love like he loved John back.

"Well, then I guess you have until I finish my PhD to marry me."

There was a weird beat of silence and neither seem to be sure whether they were still joking or not.

“You saying you want to marry me? Is that a proposal? A deathbed proposal?” The look that bloomed on John’s face was as adorable as it was utterly insufferable. It was, however, quickly dispelled however by a sudden sneeze. He reached for more tissues, the groan that followed evidently vexed.

It cut through whatever tension had inadvertently bled into the moment, though, and Gale smiled. “Bless you. Tempting proposition that it is…” Gale finally said, as he checked his watch. When he continued, there was an edge of regret in his voice. “If I want to be Dr Anything I’d better get going.”

A noise echoed from John's throat, half displeased, half mournful.

Gale sighed and leant forward, bringing a gentle hand to John's fever-flushed cheek, his thumb stroking lightly on the sharp angle of his cheekbone. "Now, you get some sleep and drink plenty of water, you hear me? You can have more of these here pills in like a couple more hours. I should be home around 3ish, but text me if you need anything or your temperature gets any higher."

His voice was as even and steady as ever, only John could tell he was fretting slightly by how unsettled his hands were, and how they kept touching him, fiddling with the blankets, smoothing things down that were already smoothed down as he spoke.

John reached out and grab Gale's wrist, stilled it, in a odd reversal of their usual roles. "Okay, okay..." he acquiesced lightly, easily, and was immediately rewarded when Gale's fingers laced into the sweat-damp curls that had fallen down into his face, moving them aside so he could press a kiss to his forehead. His lips lingered for an achingly welcome half-beat, before moving to press another to his cheek.

Gale tore himself away then, grabbing his wallet, keys, and the steaming travel mug where he'd abandoned them on the dresser, and tossed his bag over his shoulder. A few second later, he was gone.

“Dr Gale Egan” is all John thinks about for the rest of the day.

In between naps, that is.

[jjunieworld]

☆ ﾞ≋ 𝓙𝓙UNIE𝓦ORLD’S 𝓦ORKS 𝓘N 𝓟ROGRESS ───── 𝓃𝗈 𝒽𝖾𝗌𝗂𝗍𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝓃𝗈𝗐, 𝒸𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝓂𝖾!

𝓴ey: fluff (☁️), angst/mature themes (🌪️), smut (🥛), smau (📲), written series (📖), oneshot (📓), drabble (📄), other (💬)

✦ individual wip posts for long fics / series will be posted separately and tagged with #﹙📝﹚jjunieworld’s ✩ wips 𓍯

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦! 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝗎𝗅𝖾𝗌. ﹚ 𓄹〞 あれもこれも, それもどれも。 刺激をもっと遊んでたい! 𝒢𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝓂𝖾, 𝒢𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝓂𝖾, まだ眠るまで。 𝒾 𝓌𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝓎𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝒶𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇! ❞

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❝ in the house of flies ❞ ┄ choi soobin⌇📄,🥛 requested ⋆ if there’s one thing you love doing the most, it’s getting under your boyfriend’s skin. it’s just so easy to use soobin’s possessiveness and jealously and anger against him to get what you want. and what you want is to get fucked, hard.

𓈃 ⋆ established relationship, smut, hard-ish and mean dom!soobin, face slapping, switch!reader, angry sex, early 2000s au, more tba...

𝓟rogress 𓄵 writing, 1.7k ⟢ 70%

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❝ cabin fever ❞ ┄ lee minho⌇📓,🌪️,🥛 after an unexpected snowstorm forces you to abandon your vacation plans, you end up snowed in a cabin with your ex-boyfriend, minho. with your fresh breakup and still lingering feelings at the forefront, you both have no choice but to address the elephant in the room.

𓈃 ⋆ exes to lovers, angst, forced proximity, snowed in trope, smut, some fluff, ex bf!minho, multiple unprotected sex scenes, arguing, makeup sex, shower sex, more tba...

𝓟rogress 𓄵 outlined ˒˒ postponed until winter ⟢ 25%

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捧げる? 𝓃𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋, 𝑒𝗏𝖾𝗋! 𝒿𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝓃𝗈𝗐, 今すぐ。 見つけ出して! ∿ [ continue on to . . . masterlist , taglist , request ]

[lunatiqez]

“SHEDBOUND” — Carl Grimes x Reader

Pairing: Carl Grimes x Reader

Genre: Romance

Summary: After get caught up in a herd of walkers, Carl and Y/N find safety in an abandoned shed. Y/N worries out loud, so Carl finds away to shut them up.

Word Count: 0.8k

A/N: I kinda went off the request for this one— readers less optimistic and more worried, oops!!

“Y/N! GO! I’VE GOT YOU COVERED!” CARL shouted at you. He has his rifle in his hands and he’s shooting at the walkers coming towards the two of you. It was cloudy and gray out, it looked as if it was about to rain.

You knew that leaving the Alexandria walls was a bad idea, but your boyfriend convinced you it was okay— or in his words, “we’ll be fine, you just need to live a little!”

If living a little meant being surrounded by a bunch of dead people, you’d be perfectly content being switched out with one of the walkers you were fighting against.

“I’m not leaving you Carl! Let’s get out of here!” You bolted away, Carl dragging behind you still trying to kill some of the stragglers from the group.

Being in a panicked and hurried state, you ran until you saw a shed, opening the door and quickly closing it behind you, relieved that you got away. Then, you realized that you left Carl. You opened the door to go back for him, but as you did you saw him running by. Swiftly, you grabbed his forearm and pulled him into the shed, alarming him— rightfully so.

“Calm down, Carl. It’s me. It’s Y/N,” you reassured him. His back slid against the shed wall as he tried to catch his breath. You cupped his face slightly, silently making sure he was okay.

“Are you bit?” Your voice trembled slightly, afraid of the answer. He shook his head. Another sigh of relief left you.

“Okay! Okay. We’re okay. We’re gonna be okay.” You tried to convince not only him, but yourself as well.

You crawled to the window in the back of the shed, making sure not to make any sudden movements. You peeked out of it slightly and looked around. They were everywhere. Thankfully, they hadn’t seen you or Carl go into the shed, so they were all mindlessly staggering by it.

“I’m sure..” you started, “I’m sure it’s just a herd passing by. They’ll be gone soon.” You told him. He half heartedly smiled in response. You crawled back over to him and sat down next to him.

“Told you it was a bad idea.” You leaned your head on his shoulder.

“Mmmhmm.” He stretched out his words in agreement.

“I wanna hear you say it though.” You smirked at him. He shook his head.

“Not happening.”

“Oh c’mon, you know you want to,” you giggled. “Okay, Y/N, you were right and I was wrong. As always!! I’m a loser and you’re the best.” You said in a voice that could only be you trying your best to sound like him. It didn’t sound like him at all.

“It’s not gonna happen, Y/N!” He finalized the argument. You huffed and took your head off of his shoulder.

“How long do you think this is gonna take?” He shrugged.

Slowly, you got up and went over to the window yet again. You looked out of it and sighed once more, there were still a ton of walkers. One looked back and just about caught a glimpse of you. Before it did, you turned to the corner of the shed so you weren’t visible to the being. You motioned to Carl to be quiet and that the herd was still passing through.

He made a hand movement that signaled you to come over to him, but you shook your head aggressively. You hated the walkers— you always had. You were about 8 or 9 when this whole thing started, and you were still terrorized by them. Although, ever since you met Carl, he was helping you learn that you didn’t have to fear them as much as you did.

He stood up and pulled you towards him, making you gasp. Silently, he held you close. When you felt it was okay to talk again, you did.

“I think we’re okay. Y’know, what if you fell and made a bunch of noise? Or you dropped me?” You asked him.

“Oh my gosh, Y/N. Do you ever shut up?” He chuckled.

“You can’t make me!” You said, acting offended by his rude comment. How could he say such a thing?

“Oh yeah?” He asked you, still holding your body close to his own.

“Yeah! Freedom of speech.” You pointed your nose up in a “matter of fact” manner.

“I don’t think freedom of speech matters anymore, babe.”

“It does! It—“ you were cut off by his lips touching your own. Your eyes widen and then flutter shut comfortably. You kissed him back slowly, not wanting to break away from his contact.

Sure, it wasn’t the most romantic of places to kiss, but you were head over heels for him, so any place could be romantic. He pulled away, making you open your eyes.

“How was that for freedom of speech?” He giggles.

“Shut up, that doesn’t even make sense.” You rolled your eyes.

[quinnylouhughesx43]

Champion of my Heart

Summary: requested || in which reader is a famous singer and takes a break from tour to go watch luke play in the “Hughes bowl” but gets mobbed by the media.

Warnings: use of y/n, ended up being more about reader than about luke and reader, unedited, grammatical errors, use of song added as readers “song” I do not own this song, I am not claiming to own this song

Word Count: 1.1k

Notes: requested via ask, sorry this turned out more about reader than about the relationship it just came out of me this was at 1:30am when I woke up randomly

As the pop star, y/n, stepped off the private jet that had brought her from her latest tour stop to Newark, New Jersey, she couldn't help but feel a an overwhelming sense of excitement and relief to be back in the same state as her favorite person. Y/n had been on tour for the last two months, performing to sold-out crowds night after night. Living out of a tour bus and sleeping everywhere but the once place that felt like home, and she was exhausted. She was living her dream out and she loves what she does, she’s just being run ragged.

But she had promised herself that she would take a break, even if it was just for one night, to do something she loved - watch her boyfriend, Luke, and his brother who ironically is also his brother, Jack, play hockey for the New Jersey Devils.

Y/n had met Luke one night at small show held at Rutgers University, when he and Jack had come out to see it at the college. The boys getting noticed by quite a few of the girls on campus and a few athletes, security invited them backstage to a different green room, but y/n being curious who else would be swarmed fans went to greet them . Which led to her and Luke hitting it off immediately, bonding over their shared love of music and hockey. And as their relationship blossomed, she became a regular at Devils games, cheering on Luke and Jack from the stands.

But tonight was special. Tonight, the Devils were playing the Vancouver Canucks, and y/n knew that Luke's oldest brother, Quinn, is the captain for the Canucks. Until tonight she hasn’t seen the three brothers play against each other before, and she couldn't wait to see the intensity and the competition that she’s heard all about.

As she made her way to her seat with in Prudential Center, y/n was practically mobbed by a few fans and numerous droves of paparazzi. She smiled and waved, taking selfies and signing autographs, but she was also careful to keep her focus on the game once puck drop happened. She was there to see her man and his brother’s play, and tonight she was just another Devils fan in the stands. She didn't want to distract Luke or Jack, and she desperately wanted to be a normal girlfriend there to give support.

The game was intense, with both teams fighting hard for every chance at the puck. Y/n on the edge of her seat, screaming and cheering along with the rest of the crowd. Often times she found herself clutching to the bottom of her Luke jersey, murmuring please over and over as he loaded up for a shot. Or the hitch in her breathing when he went down because of a hard hit into the boards.

When the final buzzer sounded and the Devils had emerged victorious, and y/n was over the moon. She wasn’t sure if it was because she had never been so anxious over a game, because they won, or because she gets to see Luke now.

As she waited for Luke to come out of the locker room, y/n was surrounded by reporters and camera crews.

If all the media is out here who is interviewing the teams? She asked herself.

They were all clamoring for her attention, asking her questions about her new album and her love life. She tried to brush them off, but they were truly relentless.

"Is your new album about Luke?" one reporter asked, shoving a microphone in her face.

"No comment," Y/n replied, smiling sweetly.

"But what about your ex-boyfriend, Josh?" another reporter chimed in. "Is the album about him then?" shoving a different microphone in her face.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again - yes my music is about my experiences in life and my emotions that coincide with said experiences. That said it does mean it has to be about any one person."

But the reporters wouldn't let up. They kept asking questions, trying to get a rise out of her. That's when she spotted Luke, emerging from the locker room with a huge grin on his face. Y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she saw him, and she knew exactly what to do to nip this in the butt.

With zero hesitation, y/n pushed through the crowd of reporters and ran directly to Luke. She jumped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist, and planted a long, languid, passionate kiss on his lips. Probably the most PDA the two have ever displayed in their lives. The crowd around them erupted in cheers and applause, and the reporters were left stunned and silent.

Luke laughed and hugged her to him tightly, spinning her around in a circle while still having her wrapped around his waist. "I guess that answers all your questions," he said sarcastically, winking at the reporters.

Y/n grinned looking directly at her boyfriend, feeling happy and carefree for the first time in months. She knew that she had made a statement, and that the media would be talking about this kiss for weeks to come. But she didn't care. She was just happy to be with Luke, and to have been able to support him and his team.

As they made their way out of the arena, she leaned her head on Luke's shoulder. "Thanks for getting the win for me tonight," she joked, smiling up at him.

"Anytime baby," Luke replied, squeezing her hand. "And thanks for that kiss, if I had to wait any longer I might have died from lack of attention. Plus I think that shut them up pretty effectively."

Y/n giggled at her dramatic boy. "I'm always happy to help," she said, snuggling into his side. “When we get in the car, I have something to play for you. I think you’re really going to like it.” Luke gave her a questioning look as he opened her door, letting her get in first. She pulled out a demo album, and showed him the cover.

‘Champion of my Heart’

Luke held the demo in his hands and he studied it for a moment. “Is it about..” he paused looking up to meet her eyes. “Is it really about you and I?” Y/n nodded and smiled slightly. Luke moved around the front of the car quickly, anxious to enter the car. “Remember it’s not the final version, but i wanted you hear some of the songs first.” Luke made eye contact with her again. “First, as in first first?” He needed the clarification, like she needed his approval. “Yes, first outside of my recording crew. He leaned over the console and softly cupped her cheek. “I don’t tell you enough. I love you, you’re amazing, you’re beautiful, and I am the luckiest person in the wo— no entire universe to have you.” Luke placed the softest kiss on her lips as the first track begins to play.

‘If I Could Fly’

[kquil]

JAMES POTTER | JOINT SCHEDULE

request. : Hey can you do some more ice hockey player James imagines? I love them sm! —@prongsbandit

sum. : you booked the university's ice rink to practice your routine for an upcoming competition but so did the university's ice hockey team, whose captain screwed up the timings

g. : fluff ; modern au ; ice hockey player james ; figure skater reader ; shy reader ; university au ; jock james potter ; supportive figure skating coach ; supportive hockey team

length : 1.6k

In preparation for an upcoming figure skating competition, you were dedicated to getting in as much practice as possible. Thankfully, you were able to book the university ice rink for two months in the lead up to the competition. Your regular practice sessions were every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday for five in the late afternoon until seven. It was a bit excessive but you wanted to win. Many of your friends view you as someone sweet and docile but also hard working and quite the perfectionist. What they don’t realise is how competitive you can be behind the scenes. Everytime you cancel plans, you usually excuse yourself with the ‘I’m busy’ reasoning that your close friends readily accept, believing that you were working through papers and research articles for uni classes when, in actuality, you were spending time in the rink. 

Today, you had brought with you your portable stereo to go through the routine with the music over and over again, gradually perfecting the appearance of your more grandiose moves as well as the sequence of your steps on the ice. It felt good being at this stage of your development, the entirety of your routine has been choreographed already and had been revised by your coach, who suggested some minor changes but approved it overall — you knew what you were doing, it was just the case of perfecting things now, something you were talented at and even enjoyed. 

The main focus for today’s session was the polishing of the big jumps and ambitious spins of your routine. It was a little tiresome and you don’t believe you’d be able to cover all of them for this session but you never really expected to in the first place. Your only saving grace was that you had some time to apply light makeup earlier in celebration for the new figure skating set you were gifted by your parents. It was an all black set that paired a sleek skort with a long sleeved turtle neck top that had lacing to decorate the open back and thumb holes in the sleeves as the hem reached half way up your palms. You liked feeling pretty in practices, it always helped to encourage your self-confidence so there was always a little spike in your performance. The praises of your supervising coach was all you needed to confirm this fact. 

“Brilliant, my girl! Again!” Vera sang her high praises from the stands and helped you control the music whenever you wanted to repeat a particular part of the choreo. For this routine, you had settled for something more elegant and based the choreography around the ‘Waltz of the Flowers’ by Tchaikovsky. The soundtrack made you miss the time you did ballet until you were fifteen before eventually falling in love with figure skating. A lot of your routines tend to be based around the elegance of ballet in addition to the complicated turns, spins and jumps that encompassed figure skating; your coach, Vera, loved how you were able to combine both sports in such a seamless way. 

The music kept playing even after you had repeated the skid spiral so you naturally flowed into rehearsing more of your choreo, allowing muscle memory and the music to guide you over the ice as you subconsciously waited for Vera to pause the music and ask you to repeat something that didn’t look quite right. Polishing up the routine was filled with more critiques than any stage of creating your final performance so your anticipation for Vera to pause the music, repeat a move and provide additional tips lingered in the back of your mind as you flawlessly spiralled into one of your most difficult spins — a one-handed beillman. 

“Beautiful Beautiful!” Vera praised, clapping as you gradually spun out of the position before abandoning the routine and grinning widely to yourself, proud and giddy for finally nailing the transition and spin. 

“Vera!” you shout across the ice and over the music, cheering with your fists raised to the air in victory, “I did it!” It was then when you realised that Vera’s clapping was accompanied with an entire audience of applause and your panicked eyes fell upon a grinning hockey player standing beside your coach, behind them was a team of hockey players, some whistling and whooping in between their applause. 

As you tried to catch your breath and suppress your bashfulness, you gathered that Vera had neglected to reply to the soundtrack to discuss something with the hockey player, and so, it seems that the entire hockey team just saw a glimpse of your routine. Eventually, Vera paused the music and motioned you over, looking to discuss something. 

“Wh-what’s wrong?” you ask upon reaching the sidelines, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves as you avoided the hockey player’s eyes. He was dressed in most of his equipment, only missing his headgear, and was sporting the dopiest grin on his face. “It appears as though the university hockey team had booked the rink to practise for a match happening early next week, however, there was some miscommunication over the timings and schedules,” you furrow your brows as Vera explains the situation before shyly glancing up at the hockey player beside her, who had unruly dark curls and glimmering hazel eyes behind a pair of cute glasses. It seems your simple acknowledgement of him was enough to prompt his self introduction. 

“I’m James,” he reaches out his gloved hand for you to shake, quickly taking it back to rip of his glove off before reaching to shake your hand once again, “James Potter, Captain of the Hockey team,” behind him the rest of the hockey players wave at you, some with friendly grins and others sporting a mischievous smirk as they regard their captain’s behaviour around you, “Vera explained that you were practising for a competition and also booked the rink in advance but since you got here early, we’ll put the decision to you,”

You raised a brow and tilted your head slightly, prompting him to continue, “make a decision on what?”

“On whether to kick us out and continue your practice or finish your practice early and allow us to have the rink for drills exercises and plays,” James finished, grinning at you with no malice and insinuating that he wouldn’t hold any ill-will over either outcome. 

“Oh!” your cheeks heat up under his warm voice, amiable manner, pretty eyes and charming dimples and you couldn’t help but stare for a moment before eventually shaking your head and giving him your resolve, “I’d be happy to give you the rink, I’ve covered a lot of ground already so I don’t mind,” James’s smile reaches his eyes once more and he nods. 

“You heard the lady boys, what do we say?” he shouts back to his team, his voice commanding attention and is as firm as his build, encouraging an ensemble of ‘thank you’s to sound from behind him, “Thank you very much,” James finishes and nods to his boys, signalling them to set up the rink and get ready for practice while you also take the time to shake off your nerves and walk off the ice, where James greets you once more.

“I hope you have a good and productive practice,” you wish him and offer a warm smile, your heart finally settled down to a semi-heightened beat. He’s really quite handsome…you think to yourself but quickly look away to, again, keep from staring too long. 

“Thank you and thanks again for letting us have the rink,” James takes your hand and lifts your knuckles to his lips — an act of gratitude that has a dangerous heat creeping up your neck to occupy your cheeks once more, “you’re very beautiful on the ice, by the way. I’m sure you’ll smash it at the competition, your competitors don’t stand a chance,” the two of you share pleasantries and more smiles before you finally make your way to the locker rooms to change with a straighter back and a lighter heart. 

What an encounter. 

“She practises every Monday, Wednesday and Thursday from 5 to 7pm,” Vera says out of nowhere as she approaches James, who stares off to where you had disappeared. 

“I’m sorry?” 

A stone cold look crosses over Vera’s face, “avoid those times at all costs,” she warns, her russian accent suddenly thick and intimidating, “my student doesn’t need any distractions,” the statement makes James raise a brow in question, “her competition is on the 14th November, held in the city community rink, and it starts at noon, don’t be late,”

Suffice to say, James wasn’t late to your competition, in fact,  he was early and he brought the entire hockey team with him to support you. You won second place but felt like a gold medalist when the hockey team hollered the loudest for you at the awarding ceremony and lifted you onto their shoulders with the congratulatory flowers James brought you in your arms and your silver medal around your neck.  To return the favour, you attended their next hockey game and made sure to shout the loudest whenever their team scored and eventually when their team won the match.

“When do you think our captain’s finally gonna grow some balls and ask out his ice skating ballerina?” Sirius whispers to his taller brunette friend.

“Let them take their time,” Remus replies, the two staring as James throws his arm over your shoulders and you wrap your own around the back of his waist, “everyone already thinks their dating anyway so they’ll get it eventually,”

“Wait! So they’re not actually dating yet?” Peter asks with a surprised face as the other two laugh, “But I swear I saw them kissing by the locker rooms before the game earlier!”

a/n : i know nothing about ice skating or ice hockey but i tried my best! i'm sorry if this is not very realistic. i also hope that the request was fulfilled to a satisfactory standard despite the long wait, i'm really sorry for that by the way (┳Д┳) nevertheless, i tried my best and i hope this made you happy, darling, thank you for the cute request (ɔˆ ³(ˆ⌣ˆc)

navi.

taglist : @ghostgardn @fredweasleysjumper @rosalyn-s @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @corp0real @sageskisses444 @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @neeezza101 @chaosofmanyfandoms

[lovelyhan]

wonwoo & emotional orange’s don’t be lazy!!

this was honestly such a bop wtf,,

⟣ don't be lazy ⟢ wc: no idea bc mobile ㅠㅠ minors do not interact!

"that all you got? don't start slacking off, baby."

you shoot wonwoo a death glare from where you're perched on top of his lap. he looks so fucking smug, all relaxed on the bed with an iron tight grip on your waist. if you weren't so desperate to get off, you would've wiped that smirk off his face.

your thighs are burning from the strain of riding your too-conceited fuck buddy for the past ten minutes. the sweat that beads across the side of your head is a testament of your effort, but it's clear that he isn't about to start appreciating it when he's got you right where he wants you.

wonwoo has always made quips about how you're so fucking lazy during sex—a bona fide pillow princess who'd rather let him do all the work. can he blame you, though? you actually liked letting him manhandle you before getting fucked to an inch of your life.

but when he casually mentioned how the girl he brought home the other night rides dick like a fucking champ, you couldn't help but feel like you had to prove something.

"fuck off," you mutter, shifting your weight more evenly across both knees as you grip onto his broad shoulders for balance. "you're the one who said you liked it better this way."

wonwoo lets out a breathless chuckle as you ease yourself back onto his length—biting back a moan as the fat head of his cock breaches your entrance once more.

"when did i ever say that?" he asks, ravenous eyes never leaving your tits as you start to bounce on his cock. "then again, you always did like twisting my words. what, did you get jealous because of that little story i told you?"

"s-shut up," you stammer with a prominent frown. "i don't care about that, okay?"

for someone who 'doesn't care' about their fuck buddy's other sexual exploits, you're being awfully determined at proving a point when you clench the muscles of your pussy around his hard length—making wonwoo hiss between his teeth as his fingers dig harder into the meat of your ass.

the lewd squelch that each pass of his cock makes rings loudly in your ears. but no matter how deeper he manages to fuck into you when you're riding him like this, there's always something missing when you're the one on top.

"god, you're so fucking stubborn," he growls, thrusting his hips up to match your erratic pace. "you don't have to push yourself so hard. just say the word and i'll fuck you just the way you like it."

"and if i told you i like it when i'm on top?"

"then that just makes you a fucking liar, princess."

wonwoo is quick to turn the tables on you when he roughly flips you over—breasts pressed against the sheets as he forces your spine into a delicious arch.

you realize what you've always craved every time you ride him when wonwoo presses his chest against your back—dwarfing you with the build of his torso as he sinks himself into your pussy. you fucking love it when he's pressing you beneath his weight, firmly enough so you can't even squirm.

"wonwoo—" you half-gasp, half-moan as he starts ramming his cock into you with an unforgiving pace. "fuck, please!"

"see? that wasn't so hard, was it?" he growls, fisting your hair in one hand as he makes a mess out of your cunt. "you never want to lift a finger, do you? always just waiting for me to use your perfect fucking pussy like a cocksleeve."

"y-yes, yes, yes," you babble, inhaling sharply when the hand in your hair migrates to your throat—fingers pressing down just enough to make you lightheaded. "wan' you to use me, wonwoo. need your cock to fuck me all the time..."

he breathes out a shuddering breath as he forces you back down onto the mattress, both hands gripping the globes of your ass like they've always been his to take. "you don't have to ride me to prove a thing, baby. i'll fuck this needy pussy stupid in missionary for the rest of my life if i have to. 'cause that's just how good you fucking feel around me."

you nearly cream yourself at his words, but wonwoo is intent on keeping his word. he flips you over once again so that your gazes can meet—slipping back inside you not a second later so he can continue ruining you with his cock.

"is this what you like? being treated like a pillow princess? getting fucked dumb on my cock?" wonwoo breathes against your lips as you mewl with every thrust—craning your neck so he'd give you a kiss. "oh, baby, you're so greedy today. making me do all the work and asking for a kiss? do you think you deserve it?"

"i do," you moan, fingers tangling in his messy hair as his strokes start losing their careful precision. "i deserve a kiss. and i deserve your cum. give it to me, wonwoo, please—"

"fuck," he swears hoarsely, a satisfied grin plastered on his face. "you're such a demanding little princess, aren't you? you'll take everything i'll give like a good girl?"

just when you're about to open your mouth to respond, the pinnacle of your orgasm crests out of nowhere—making you thrash and writhe under wonwoo like a madwoman.

wonwoo growls as your walls clamp down on him like a vice as you ride out your release, and he swears he feels you come again when his hips finally stutter—spilling his hot cum deep inside your cunt.

the post-sex haze has become one of wonwoo's favorites because the fucked out look on your face after he's had his way with you is enough to make him hard again. wonwoo bears no mind to the fact that you're still coming down from cloud nine—propping you back on your knees with your ass high in the air.

you whimper his name again as he glides his cock along your sloppy pussy, uncaring of the fact that his load is still dripping out of your ruined entrance.

"don't be lazy, baby." he grins wickedly. "we've got all night."

end notes: he is so filthy in this... thank you sm for giving me the opportunity to write wonwoo into such a nasty light 😩

[flaneur001]

I need an angst fanfic of Kylar from DoL… Please? 🥺🥺

The Butterfly Effect

Kylar the loner writing request

Word count-1118 [CW- mentions of anxiety, and implied panic attack. Themes of hopelessness and angst. One-sided love]

It had been raining that day. Not the usual downcast marring the sky—no— pleasant breeze ruffled Kylar’s dark hair, making his keen emerald eyes peek through like twin jewels, as he glanced up at the sky.

Spring rain’s drizzle had lightly sprayed his pale skin as he trudged the shabby alleys of Domus street. It had been purely out of sheer boredom that Kylar had decided to take a longer route to the park only to somehow wind up lost.

He had halted in his tracks. Slender fingers had come to grip upon the hilt of the blade resting at his hip, tucked under the rumpling fabric of his oversized hoodie. His eyes sharply bounced in every direction as he figured out his way again. Really, one could never be cautious enough in that town.

His short legs had hurried along the narrow path, his skittish gait attracted several gazes. Kylar had felt a crippling wave of anxiety crawl long his spine under the many scrutinous eyes sizing him up. His movements had become urgent. Escaping from what? He didn’t know. And just when his heart had felt like it’d burst right through his chest, he saw you.

His tiny frame was shaking. Hands came to rest on his knees as he bent over, stopping, catching his labored breaths. Just then a cottonesque cloud shifted overhead, letting a sliver of sunlight paint your cheeks and he stared mesmerized.

Dressed in clothes not much shabbier than his, but wearing a smile not even the finest of riches could afford, there you were, watering away the colorful plants, lining the depressing gray walls of the orphanage.

Shining under the natural spotlight of the sun, that seemed partial to only you that day. You seemed to be so engrossed in a conversation with a boy, who was around your age, one hand holding the hose and the other gently guiding the spray of water over the various flora.

A lone butterfly had fluttered over to you, and mischievously perched atop your head, earning a peal of giggles from you and your companion.

All his earlier anxiety forgotten, Kylar had been unaware of a small smile slowly inching up his lips. He had stared, almost marveled at the way the butterfly hovered around you, as if it had found the most beautiful flower in the garden.

And surely, Kylar had agreed wholeheartedly. His heart beat in tandem with each flap of the butterfly’s wings.

Flap…thump Flap…thump

And just like that, he had fallen in love. 

He shouldn’t have…He Mustn’t have.

***

The sharp blare of the school bell broke him out of his reverie. With jerky movements, Kylar forced his desperate eyes away from your form and packed his belongings back into his rucksack.

He was quick. He had to be because he knew what was coming next. Teeth nibbling away at the flaky skin on his chapped bottom lip, he discreetly skirted around the crowds and crowds of sweaty students in the hallway. 

 Footsteps light as a feline’s he followed you to the park, your personal shadow. It wasn’t simply an urge anymore for Kylar. It had transformed into a need. 

He needed to watch you. Needed to keep you safe. From the lecherous eyes and hands of those creeps in the streets. And sometimes even yourself. For you didn’t know what was good for you. Or who for that matter.

The sky was grim, reflecting the inner turmoil that scratched and sank its claws in his ever declining psyche. 

Hands balled into fists at his sides, Kylar braved the first few drops of rain that wet his cheeks and gazed owlishly upon you, from behind the bark of a tree.

Nails digging crimson crescents on his palm, he watched your expression melt into a sweet smile as you approached the intimidating figure standing in front of a fountain holding an umbrella.

Kylar’s hand involuntarily reached for the handle of the umbrella peeking out of his rucksack, as he saw the blonde man, roughly pull you closer under the shade of his umbrella, neatly tucking you by his side, like some prized possession. 

Kylar’s heart clenched at the wistful words that died on his tongue. 

“We co-could’ve sh-shared this umbrella” he whispered to no one in particular 

The winds slowed down. The park was empty save for the couple standing statuesque in front of the fountain. A halo of smoke surrounded them like an invisible fortress. 

The humid atmosphere suddenly weighed heavy on his chest, when Kylar saw the bully ever so slightly lean in towards you.

‘What was it that you saw in him?

He was nothing but a bully, shoving you around, embarrassing you, using you like a pet and OH GOD KYLAR CAN BE SO MUCH BETTER AND—‘

A loud thunder, masked the deafening sound of Kylar’s heart breaking into a million pieces. He watched on, soaked to the bone and numb as your lips met Whitney’s over and over in a wild, passionate kiss.

‘My love would never…they do-don’t like it. Yes theydon’ttheycan’ttheysimplycannot’, the words rattled a mile a minute, stumbling around Kylar’s brain as he stared at Whitney sacrilege his God like a horrified devout.

But nothing could ever describe the pain that shot through him, when your small hand reached up and cupped the bully’s face, pulling him closer as you welcomed his intrusive kisses.

It was like Kylar never existed. The world could’ve ceased at that moment and you simply wouldn’t have noticed. So lost in his embrace. So keen for his touches. So in Lo—

Unable to take it anymore, his jealous green eyes flitted away in a flash of anger. Trying to focus on anything but that last thought.

Unbidden, the twin jewels zeroed in on a butterfly, hovering around a flower. It desperately flapped its wings, struggling against the harsh winds and the iresome pour of the rain.

It gently touched, and cradled the petals, fluttering about the flower as if in a pathetic attempt to grab its attention. The flower stood pretty and proud. Unfazed by the lovesick being, fulfilling its pilgrimage at her altar.

A few more frantic flaps, and the butterfly finally perched atop his lover. Kissing her lips, as the last scales of color shed from its wings.

With a cold blow of the wind, it fell, lifeless wings crumbled and lay still on the ground. The sky rumbled in the distance, the flower ever in its beauteous glory swayed like it was just another day. ‘So this is what it means to fall in love’, Kylar mused with a bitter laugh, suddenly very grateful for the rain as he let the tears fall freely down his cheeks. Without a glance back, he ran, homebound.

[bonniepop]

do you think you'll make a part two for the sugawara fry game fic where they reconcile because im,, im, 😭😭

part 1

—

you've successfully avoided sugawara for the entire school week. it wasn't necessarily hard—you'd been a part of his weekday routine for a few weeks now, sharing the same majors and electives—just really, really lonely.

the weekend had arrived and normally, saturdays entailed running joint errands in the morning—groceries, laundry, and any other such activity—followed by lunch (this saturday is your turn to choose—well, was your turn to choose) and some movie, or mini golf, or something. some activity that made you both laugh and talk and made you fall in love with him a little bit more.

you sigh and push yourself up off the bed, forcing yourself to grab your purse and phone and a list you kept pinned via magnet to you and your roommate's shared fridge, and set out.

the bus ride to the grocery store was so stiflingly quiet that you'd decided to fish out your earphones and plug them in, keeping your gaze out the window, distracted by the scenery of the city as you drove past. you handn't realized so much was in this neighborhood; you had some vague recognition that it was close to sugawara's stop. you knew he lived out of campus, but you had no idea he lived in such a nice, lively area.

"hey," someone calls, voice muffled by your headphones.

you turn your head and your stomach drops.

of course. he fucking lives here.

he says, "mind if i sit?" but really he mouths, because you can't hear him past your music. you scoot closer to the window to make as much space as possible and he situates himself comfortably next to you.

he says something, you know he does, but you choose to ignore him in favor of some song you aren't really even listening to. you didn't want to talk about it. you didn't even want to acknowledge it.

you stand, planning to get off at the next stop even though your actual one had two more to go, but you don't care. all you care about is getting away from—

he grabs your wrist and yanks you down back to your seat. the abrupt movement makes one earphone fall off, and it lands in his lap. he fishes it with his free hand and hands it over with a kind smile. "this isn't our stop yet."

you flush, humiliated. "i—"

"you've been avoiding me all week," sugawara says softly, and your eyes well up in the slightest at the his voice sounding so... so... "if you don't want to talk, that's fine, just... don't go."

you press your lips together and take your earphone back, putting it away in its case. you look away and lean back on the window, trying to think about what to say, what to do, when he finally confronts you.

you're too distracted by your thoughts to notice that sugawara's hand on your wrist loosens, drifting up to hold your hand.

[oz2b]

They are out for Karaoke night!

progress stuffs