#I don’t have enough room to set them out nicely on display

[rotteneldritchhorror]

This is literally how my furby collection sits!

They’re all just having a little tea party ☕️

Tea time☕

[envy-of-the-apple]

Pass it Forward

Dark!Sung Jin-woo x reader

Synopsis: You gain a new client. Even though you're sure you've never met him in your life, he feels familiar

note: commissioned by a very lovely anon. ty so so much for being patient!!!!!

Word Count: 5.4k

(Warnings: implied kidnapping, implied drugging, stalking, violence)

You never wanted to be a hunter. 

Fighting magic beasts, doing raids, getting caught in red gates was all too much for your liking. Even if you did have an awakening, you doubt you’d go get tested. Besides, you weren’t a fan of hunters to begin with. You found most egotistical, violent. The higher-ranking ones especially thought they were above the law and above social order. You weren’t a fan of hunters. 

It’s a shame that your job revolves around them. 

Dungeons have created multiple industries. You may never get to explore one, but admiring the multiple finds hunters bring in is more than enough for you. 

It’s nothing more than a glorified appraisal shop. Still, you enjoy your job, because you’re introduced to finds no one has ever seen before. The store is a little on the higher-end, so your customers are mostly B and low tier A-ranked hunters, each looking to see what their finds are worth. 

It’s a nice job, the pay is wonderful, and if you can look past working with hunters directly, it’s not all that bad. 

There’s a tap on your desk. You glance up. 

She gives you a grin. 

“We got five new swords.” 

“Five new swords?” you repeat, staring back at your desk. “Amazing.” 

She scoffs. 

“C’mon be more excited!” Your co-worker whines. “It’s four more than my last haul.” 

“I am.” You assure, “Honestly! What grade were they?” 

“Bronze, mostly.” She deflates. “But they were all from a B-rank dungeon.” 

“A B rank dungeon.” You repeat. She frowns. You send her an apologetic smile. 

“Ignore my tone. I’m just exhausted. That’s amazing.” 

“Don’t bother, no one gets impressed when they have your numbers.” She sighs before immediately perking up. “Before I forget: your special customer’s waiting for you.” 

You roll your eyes, but you’re getting up from your seat. 

“Stop making it sound dirty.” 

“I’m not!” She argues, but there’s a grin on her face that follows you as you step out of the room and into the gallery. 

The gallery is breathtaking, as always. Most of the displays are the ones you set up. You can’t help but admire them as you pass through rows of gauntlets and knives and crystals. It’s your work and your pride. 

He’s in the same spot as always. You spot his blue hoodie a mile away, face always covered by a mask. The routine is the same as last time. You press a smile onto your face, stopping right behind the glass case. 

“Hello.” You say politely. “How are you doing?” 

As always, there’s no response. Instead, he’s placing a tiny sack onto the glass. Usually, he’s hauling around bigger items. His dungeon raid must not have gone too well this time. 

You peek into the sack. 

Two purple essence stones stare back at you. 

It’s only customary to bring out the loupe, to check the weight, the density. You already know these are S-rank essence stones. You’ve only admired these from behind the glass, but to actually touch and inspect one? It’s almost too much. 

“Okay,” you breathe, placing down the last crystal. “Each one is about 2.5 million won. Would 5.5 million be enough to part with these?” 

Unlike the other hunters, he doesn’t negotiate or groan or boast. He gives a tiny nod, so subtle you had to actively look at his face. 

Not like you could considering it’s buried in that mask. One of your most tolerable customers, and yet you barely even see his face. The only thing you can see of him are those eyes. It’s a familiar kind of blue. His eyes remind you of a hunter you once knew. 

“Great.” You pull away with a smile. “Please wait for me to get my manager.” 

It’s only ten minutes later when your manager is cheerfully sending the hunter away, still clutching the stones in his hands. 

“Everytime,” he sighs, and you watch the hunter’s disappearing back. “I don’t know how you do it, but keep it up.” He pats your shoulder. 

You smile, but you don’t know why this hunter keeps visiting this store, especially when he has such high-end items. You don’t know why he insists on working with you and only you. You don’t know why he hides his face, barely even looking at you. 

He’s an odd one, but which hunter isn’t?

On your off days, you visit the outdoor mall that’s just outside of the city. 

It’s a cute place. During hot summer days, they have free snow cones and ice cream, sales are almost always plentiful. You can spend hours milling around, walking from shop to shop, only to end up with nothing. 

You don’t mind it. It’s fun to waste your time on nothing. You let your mind wander from shop to shop, stopping to pick up trinkets and Knick-knacks, only to place them down when they’re far too expensive. 

One booth catches your eye. A lady with a practiced customer-service smile sits right behind it. 

Awakened? Take the free hunter’s exam to find out!

They’ve even taken malls now, hm? 

Hunter’s have completely overtaken culture. They’re everywhere: in media, podcasts, celebrities, actors, singers. Even D-list hunters are famous. They are completely untouchable by both the law and the public. 

When will people finally realize that’s a bad thing? 

There’s a scream. 

You barely turn around before you see the truck. It’s wobbly, unbalanced. The driver had clearly lost control, he’s wildly honking in his panic, you can see his pale and horrified face, barely obscured by the dirty glass. 

The truck is headed straight towards you. 

You try to move. You can’t. You’re frozen. Your feet have planted themselves on the ground, too stubborn to run. Fight or flight, most ask. What would you do? 

The answer is clear, now. Freeze. 

You blink, and suddenly, you’re not on the road anymore. The sounds of panic feel more distant. 

You moved?  Teleported? 

There’s a hand on your back, steadying you. You catch a glimpse of a blue hoodie. 

He’s not wearing his mask this time. 

“Youー” You barely have time to think before he’s gone, jumping back into the fray. You’re left on the side of the building, watching as everyone else picks themselves up. 

When you look down, your bag has fallen. 

You never even got a chance to thank him. 

Usually, the appraisal shop closes along with the usual work hours. Today, your boss had closed a big deal with a favored investor, and as a ‘valued’ employee, you had to stay behind. 

By the time you were freed to go home, it was already dark. 

You clutch your jacket closer towards your body, but it does nothing to stop your shivers. You can still remember the way that A-rank hunter looked at you. He never did anything. Never touched you, barely even spoke to you. 

He just stared with those beady black eyes. When you met his gaze for too long, his mouth would spread into this sick smile that made you want to slink behind your oblivious boss. 

It was horrible, you were just glad you got out when you could. 

All hunters were egotistical assholes. 

…Okay, you were being mean. Not all of them were horrible. You know a couple of C-rank healers who were the sweetest pair of girls you’ve ever met. There was also that D-rank kid who just started out and was already filled with so much motivation and charisma. 

That one nameless hunter wasn’t all that bad. 

You almost miss your step, narrowly avoiding stepping into a giant puddle as you think about that nameless hunter with the blue hoodie and the white mask. Blue eyes. You remember he had blue eyes. 

Almost silver. 

Pretty. 

He never once gloated over his rank, now that you thought about it, you didn’t even know his rank. It had to be high. B maybe even A? He looked strong, the kind that carried his strength with his silence. 

Also, he’d saved you. You can still remember the pulsing in your heart as the vehicle slowly careened it’s way to you, showing no signs of stopping, and you just stood there, stupid, idiotic, frozen. You’d be badly injured, or worse, if he hadn’t saved you. 

Not all hunters are bad. 

At least, he wasn’t bad. 

Just then, it started drizzling. 

“Unbelievable,” you muttered, feeling the droplets hit your head, as you clumsily pulled over your jacket’s hood. You know there’d be a slight chance of rain today, yet you hadn’t brought an umbrella. You assumed that you’d be home before the storm. 

You fiddle with your jacket a little more, unaware that you were the only person on the street. Usually, you’d be more aware of your surroundings, not so distant, thoughtful. 

You don’t notice him until he grabs your arm. 

You open your mouth, intent on screaming, but he’s faster, shirking a hand across your mouth to hush you into a pitiful whimper. You kick. It does nothing. He’s so much larger than you, pushing you forward until you’re trapped between him and the wall. 

Panic, you can feel it clawing up your throat, into your chest. You can feel his hot breath into your ear, a rasp of a laugh. 

“Shut up,” he snaps, impatient, angered and you can feel your heart sink even faster. “Wallet. Now.” 

He loosens his grip on your arm, just a bit. When you flinch, he squeezes down even tighter. You wince. 

“No funny business.” He demands. “Just reach into your pocket, nice n’ easy and—“ 

He releases his grip. Silent. 

You stay there, facing the wall, eyes shut and shaking for what feels like hours. 

Nothing happens. 

Slowly, you blink your eyes open. You look to the left, then to the right. 

The entire street is empty. 

You don’t think. You don’t care what happened. You don’t care that it might be a trap. You just run. You race down the street, past the flickering lamps, running up your apartment stairwell. You don’t stop until you reach your apartment, shoving your keys into the slot and slamming the door closed. 

When you’re sure you’re alone, when the only company you have is your rapid heartbeat, you sink down into your carpet and finally let yourself have a sob of relief. 

Hours later, when you’re calmer, showered, warmer, tucked into your blankets and a good book, you’d think back to that incident as well as your assailants strange disappearance. Everything about that interaction was so odd. 

Also, this may just be because of the panic, but you could have sworn your shadows were longer in the flickering lamplights. 

You only see him again a month after the vehicle incident. 

Your customer is in the same spot as always, right in the corner, always silently waiting for you to acknowledge him. He’s dressed differently this time. Instead of that iconic blue hoodie, he’s switched to a long black cloak. The only thing that remains of him was that stubborn mask that always kept him anonymous. 

Before you can say anything, he’s already dropping his latest findings onto the table. The sack makes you recalibrate. Buffer. 

You forget your words, silently reaching forward, aware of his eyes watching you the entire while. 

You take the chance, just then, meeting his gaze. Silver clashes onto yours. They remind of you a weapon, a sword, a dagger. Dangerous. 

You look back down again, staring at the treasure he brought you. 

This time, he’d brought weapons and mana crystals. A ton of mana crystals. You immediately total it in your head, the numbers getting higher and higher. After putting the crystals in their designated piles, you start on the weapons. The smallest of the weapons is a tiny blade. It’s featherlight, you can barely feel it. 

“Careful. It’s sharp.” 

He’s never spoken before. You jump at his voice. Deep, quiet. It suits him. 

You offer a tiny smile; it flutters on your mouth. 

“I will.” You give. 

You place it aside, tallying the total before reaching for the second smallest. An arrowhead with a tinted yellow metal. You balance it on your fingers, watching as a tiny drop of liquid balances along the arrow’s edge—poison. That would easily up the price for this. 

“Thank you, by the way.” You start, still not looking at him. “For saving me, that day.” 

As predicted, he’s silent, still as a statue. It’s more of a quirk than a flaw at this point. Out the corner of your eye, you swore you saw him stiffen, just the tiniest bit so you know he heard you. 

Eventually, you finish tallying up the worth of each item, handing him the total. He examines the price, and when he deems it acceptable, he gives a slight nod. You pack away the mana crystals and the weapons, promising yourself you’d put the weapons in that open part of the gallery you’d always wanted to fill. You doubt your boss would mind you taking the space—especially since you’ve snagged such rare items. 

You wait for him to accept the money and walk off. He reaches over the table, fingers itching to grab the packet. 

Then, he hesitates. 

“You get into a lot of trouble.” He suddenly says. 

It’s not an invitation for conversation. It’s a fact. The sun is yellow. The trees are green. Your eyes drift up to meet his. 

That same familiar blue. 

You think he’s talking about the day he saved you on the street, but somehow, you feel like he knows about the mugger incident. How? Was he there? Was he watching you— 

He takes the packet, slipping it into his cloak and turns away. You watch him until the doors shut behind him. 

You’re blinking, and then you’re laughing. No way, you’re overthinking this way too much. Of course he didn’t know. He was just worried, like any normal person would. You needed to stop seeing the worst in people. 

You ignore your shadows, the way they jumped when he was near. It was almost like they wanted to follow him out the door. 

Once again, your boss asked you to work in the back. 

You don’t mind the job, with rent reaching sky high prices, you know you needed it. You just wished he’d give you more of a heads up when he told you about the amount of work you’d have to do. You highly doubt you’d be able to organize all the dungeon artifacts in a few hours. 

At least, he was nice enough to give you a helper. 

“What is this?” Your co-worker asks. She’s one of the newer ones, hired just last month, so she’s less of a competent independent worker bee and more of a baby you have to keep your eyes on. It didn’t really matter if she wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box, you needed extra hands. 

You look up, spotting her messing with a grade-A trinket. 

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” You say, glancing back down to your own pile. “The last person who did disappeared.” 

“What?” She drops it back in the pile, her voice is pitchy. 

Your mouth curls into a smile. 

“Kidding kidding.” You tell her. “But, seriously, grab the gloves over there before you start handling things. Most times, the hunters take care of runes and poisons, but they might miss something every one in a while.” 

She nods, the color returning to her face, before strapping on the gloves. Again, not the brightest crayon, but at least she’s a good listener. You can work with that. 

Above you two, the TV is running. Typically, you’d like to work in silence, maybe a podcast running if your boss allows it. However, the newbie insisted on playing the news, claiming there’s a new S-rank hunter that’s being revealed tonight. You heard about that. Although you were also curious, you felt it was a bit too soon for yet another S-rank to be announced. Wasn’t the last one unveiled just under a year ago? 

“I’m excited!” She pipes up with little prompting. “It’d be nice to see people excited for once, instead of upset of all the gates forming. At the same time, they are kinda’ getting to be a hassle. One popped up on my way from work, two weeks ago. It took me three hours to get home and I live thirty minutes away. Oh, and this other time, my boyfriend got stuck in a subway because a gate had formed right on the tracks. Can you believe that? Honestly, I—“ You hum along, half-listening to her ramblings as you find your eyes drifting to the screen. 

It was one of those old-fashioned TVs, the ones that were getting more and more outdated with every passing year. The images were grainy, a bit hard to focus on until you squinted your eyes a bit. 

Movement caught your eye. The camera was pointing right at the entrance of the Hunter’s Guild. The speakers were quieter than you’d liked, but you could hear the excited murmurings as the reporters talked to themselves of the newest S-rank hunter being revealed. 

Even your colleague had quieted down, just in time to watch as the doors swung open. 

You recognized him immediately.

For the first time, he wasn’t wearing that mask. His eyes were staring straight at the camera, his hands were up, his mouth was open. He was surprised. It was the first time you’d ever seen emotion on his face. 

It’s a little funny: Remembering that a human being is human. 

Cameras and lights flashed at him. He winced, backing away as people shouted ‘Sung Jin-woo!’ ‘Sung Jin-woo over here!’ ‘Sung Jin-woo have you already chosen a guild yet?’ ‘Sung Jin-woo are you—‘ 

“He looks like a model!” Your colleague gasped. “Was he in a movie or something? He seems a little familiar.” 

You shrug, turning back to your work. Strangely, you weren’t too surprised that he was the S-rank everyone was frothing over the mouth for. He’d always struck you as odd, out of place, otherworldly. 

Now, that you thought about it, you felt like you’ve heard his name before.  

After his reveal, he doesn’t show up at your shop anymore. 

He doesn’t need to. S-ranks have their own private tradesmen that give them better deals and ever greater packages. Those days of silently looking over the artifacts and essence stones he suspiciously hauls over your desk were long gone. 

He’s famous now. Everyone knows Sung Jin-woo, the 10th Korean S-rank hunter. You don’t tell anyone he used to come to the shop, looking to sell his items. Firstly, you don’t think anyone would believe you. Secondly, it felt like your way of repaying him; he seemed like a pretty secretive guy. 

Thirdly, it was like a secret for you: personally catering to an S-rank hunter was an honour. Despite how badly you think of hunters, the sheer magnitude of what an S-rank hunter is, is enough to even bowel you over. 

Despite having not seeing him for months, you still see his existence all over your screen. The ant raid, the numerous dangerous gates popping up left and right, red gates, double dungeons. He’s been everywhere, doing everything. 

He’s there, but he’s far away. Always in the back of your mind. A distant memory. You forget to pay attention to him, and eventually, he disappears. 

Hunters are a weird group of people. 

The D ranks are the most tolerable. They’re the most humble, down to Earth. They treat it like a job: just go in and out. C ranks are a little full of themselves, but they mostly leave people alone. High and mighty, think they’re on top of the world. B ranks are the same, but most have the skills to back it up. 

Anyone higher than that…those are typically the problems. 

“What’doya’ mean it’s only worth 150 million?” The hunter demands. 

A-rank. You can tell from the quality of his armour. Also, from his demeanor, the way he eyes you like a pest. The way he knows that if he crushes you right now, he’d get away with it. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” You say as softly as you can, “but I’m just repeating store policy. These essence stones are–” 

“Bullshit.” He hisses, the gaps of his teeth clench into nothing. “I worked my ass off for this haul, and all I get for it is 150 million? What, so you can just gimme a shitty deal and I’m supposed just to accept it, Bitch?” 

You knew nothing you would do would calm him down. Hunters are volatile creatures. They spend their days in caves, holed away from the rest of the world, fighting monsters beyond humane comprehension, and when they come home, society is expected to treat them like humans? 

What kind of humans would willingly do that kind of work? 

No, they were monsters. Just like the monsters they shred apart for jewels and crystals. 

You don’t negotiate with animals. 

It’s why you know there’s nothing you can do to prevent this from growing violent. Just by his look, you could tell he wasn’t even mad at you specifically. He was just walking around, waiting for someone to give him the tiniest reason. 

And then, you fell into his trap. 

Your manager was nowhere to be found. Your co-workers were all in the back, cowering from the yelling you know they can hear. No one is going to save you. You can’t even blame them. You’d do the same thing if you could. 

He raises his fist, ready to strike. You can see his power, fire sparks in his fingers. 

And then, something blue barrels into him. 

It’s a flash, you barely catch it before it zips from behind you and launches at the man. He and the thing are both sent crashing into the back, smashing into the display sets. 

It’s a bear. But it’s larger, almost looks like a hologram, even though you know it’s real. It’s pinning the man to the ground with force. You could feel it as it flew past you. 

The bear roars. It’s loud enough that it rings your ears. You cover your ears, keeping your eyes open as you watch the man kick the bear off of him, scrambling to his feet. 

“What the fuck!” He yells, staring at you with a deadly glare. “Are–are you some kinda’ summoner? Who the fuck are you?” 

This wasn’t your doing, though. You couldn’t summon. You weren’t a hunter. When you look around, the shop is empty. By then, everyone had fled. There was no one close enough that was controlling this creature. 

Which meant, whoever did that had the power to control beings far away….what kind of power was that? 

“Who cares.” He spits in your direction. It lands by your feet. “It’s just a B-rank. I’m gonna rip your precious pet apart. And then, I’m comin’ after you.” 

It didn’t matter. None of this mattered. You had to go. Earlier, this man just wanted to scare you a little. Now, it’s clear he wants to kill you. 

Your legs scramble across the floor. Your heart is thudding loudly in your chest, and you can barely hear the sounds from the fight. There’s more growling, there’s a spark of pain in your leg. You feel hands, the ghost of fingers trailing over your jacket, your clothes, about to pull you back into the fray. 

And then, everything’s gone. 

The silence happens all too quickly. You don’t realize it until you’re pushing past the glass doors when you slip and cling onto the railing. You expect to feel scorching heat from the A-rank’s hands–the unbelievable power from a man who foolishly thinks he is God.

Instead, you feel nothing but a freezing, calming chill. 

The shop is in total disarray. Dungeon loot worth thousands and thousands were scattered around like measly trinkets. The only things that were kept safe were the precious armor, each cemented into glass by a powerful rune. The bear was gone, the A-rank was unmoving on the ground, face-first into cracked cement. 

Like a Monarch of destruction, he looms right in the center of it. 

He’s turned away from you, but you know it’s him. You can recognize his features even from miles away. Sung Jin-woo is leaning over the body, once a monolith of destruction, now just as mortal as you are, inspecting it. You don’t have to see what happened to put the pieces together.

Slowly, things start to come back to life. The police are there in just a few moments. You can see the blue and red sirens flicker from the windows. A paramedic checks up on you a little while later, and you understand why you tripped. Sometime, during the scuffle, something had cut your knee. The pain didn’t set in until after the moment faded, when your breathing was starting to calm down, when you started to feel like a person again. 

The paramedics tell you it’s a minor scratch, looks worse than it actually is. You try to pay attention to them, but you can. Words filter in and out like muck. Your eyes drift, trailing over to the cops and the other paramedics that were checking on the A-rank hunter. He’d only passed out, he wasn’t dead. 

Sung Jin-woo is gone, by the time the police take your statement and release you. You shouldn’t be surprised. He’s a man of few words, you’ve known that of him for months now. Still, your mind lingers on the man who saved your life for the second time, even after the police take your statement, even after you’re manager tells you that the shop will be closed until further notice, even after your remaining colleagues fret over you. 

You’re still thinking of him, even when you step out of your co-workers car, thanking her for the ride home as you hobble up the stairs to your apartment. 

It takes you a moment to realize he’s in your living room, lingering next to the bookshelf. 

You don’t scream, even when your heart is pounding in your chest. The door shuts and clicks behind you. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even acknowledge your presence. 

“Do you have a favorite genre?” Sung Jin-woo asks. 

You stop, torn between thanking him and asking how the hell he’d even gotten in. His nonchalance keeps you from doing either. 

“Yes.” You respond. You don’t say what your favorite genre is. He doesn’t pry any further. 

He sets the book down, carefully tucking it back into its original place. 

“Why are you here?” Your voice wavers, even when you’re not sure why. All logic points to that he’s harmless. You’ve known him for months. You’ve spoken to him. He’s saved your life multiple times. He’s a well-known hero. 

And yet, that strange feeling of offness comes back. Your shadow is reacting to him, jumping every time he moves. 

“How did you get in?” You try instead. Just like last time, there’s no answer. 

Sung Jin-woo finally looks up at you. You expect to see that familiar shade of blue. 

His eyes are different. 

Blue and silver and so cold. 

Like all the light is gone, snuffed from his being.

“You should sit,” he tells you, soft voice, impassive tone, “you’ve been through so much today, you shouldn’t stress yourself.” 

You can’t do anything but listen. Odd, this is your home, but he occupies the space as though he owns it. When you take your seat, sinking in the cushions, he doesn’t follow suit, preferring to stand over you. You can’t tell if it was to provide comfort or to intimidate you further. 

It’s barely a touch. One of his fingers lightly grazes your injured knee. Before you can flinch or even scream, gentle green light emits from your bandages. The aching and soreness fades. When the light is gone, you hesitantly lift the bandages up. Your skin is untouched, unscarred, not even a blemish. As though you’d never gotten hurt in the first place. 

“How–how did you–” Your voice is dry and scratchy. You look up at him, mute, filled with questions but no clear answer. 

There’s a twitch of a smile on his face. 

“You don’t remember me, do you?” He asks suddenly. No presumptive buildup. Everything with him is cut and dry. To the point. 

It’s why you can’t keep up with him. 

“What?” 

“It’s okay, if you don’t.” He tells you, ignoring your questions, moving on as always. “I was a little disappointed when you didn’t recognize me, but I’ve changed a lot since that day. I understand that now.” 

This was the most he’d ever talked, but you can’t pay attention to that feat. You’re still lagging behind him, trying to understand what he’s trying to say. 

“It’s also my fault.” He admits, the ghost of a smile growing a bit the more he talks. “I never formally reintroduced myself. Whenever I tried to, I always found myself backing out. I just wished I’d kept better care of that dagger you gave me. That way I could’ve given it back.” 

Dagger? It sounded familiar. You rack your brain over and over again, turning over every corner, every nook, every cranny until–

How did you not see it sooner?

“You.” Your words feel like sand, sticking in your throat. “You were that E-rank…” 

His smile widens ever so slightly as an answer. 

It was years ago, back when you were still so enamored with the idea of hunters being good-standing Samaritans. You were standing right next to the road, like most other pedestrians, waiting for the light to turn red. 

He was standing there too. You noticed him because of the bandages, one on his face, the other wrapped around his arm. His hair was hiding most of his face, you couldn’t see his features. 

You also noticed him because he was standing way too close to the road. 

It snapped him out of whatever fog he was in. He apologized profusely for disrupting you. You had laughed it off, thinking nothing of it. 

It was easy to figure out he was a hunter, it was even easier to figure out he was a weak hunter. You saw the bandages stretching over his face and hands and skin. The slight limp in his step. You remember there was a raid near the area earlier. 

Sometimes, your employer allowed you to bring some trinkets home. Loot that’s barely worth paper. That night, you’d snagged a dagger. Lower than e-rank, honestly. Probably would’ve only lasted a few more hits. Nothing more than a rusty kitchen knife. You were just planning on framing it. It’d be useless in your hands. Honestly, the more you looked at it, the more of an eyesore it became. 

It was thoughtless. Nothing, on your part. But the way his eyes widened when you handed it to him. He clutched it like it was the most precious thing to him. 

‘Thank you. Thank you so much. How—how can I ever repay you?’

 You remember the words, they were forever etched in your brain. 

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He asks, now in the present.

You blink, and you’re sitting back down on that couch, looking at the ghost of your past. Someone you didn’t even know was still alive. 

“I—“ your voice fails “I-just.” 

“You told me to pass it forward.” Sung Jin-woo finishes. “You told me to help someone who needed it next time. I just don’t think you realize that person was you.” 

Too much was going on. Your brain couldn’t keep up. However, you just knew this conversation was headed to a place you didn’t want it to. 

“I’ve kept tabs on you.” A confession, but there’s no guilt. “You keep getting into trouble, again and again. I’ve saved you countless times and I’m afraid that one day…” He trails off. 

He’s shaking his head. “No, no, I won’t let that happen. Not again.” 

You stand. You don’t think you should be below someone who’s looking at you like that. Like you’re: small, tiny, insignificant. 

But if you were in his shoes, you’d probably think the same. 

You can feel it in the air, now. Heavy, close to crushing you to dust. You’ve never once been face-to-face with an S-class hunter, until now. You finally understand why they were so heralded in society. 

Power, unrelenting power. 

And when you look into his cold, dead eyes, it’s all focused on you. 

You don’t understand. But you do. Enough. 

“I’m sorry.” He tells you, but it doesn’t sound sincere, not when it’s watered down by that look in his eyes. 

“But you need to be protected.” 

Something materializes in his hand. A glass bottle filled with something red. 

Your vision blurs, before blacking out completely. 

“I can do that.” 

[sunshinesfreckless]

Bouquets & Cute Cashiers

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Hyunjin x GN!Reader

Summary: Hyunjin’s eyes appreciate every beautiful thing in the world—just like the cashier at the flower shop.

Warnings: Shy Hyunjin Fluff 😌 No warnings needed

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Hyunjin liked beautiful things.

The lilies, the roses, the baby’s breath… the tulips—God, the tulips. But most of all, he liked the cashier.

His fingers traced absent circles on the wooden countertop as he pretended to study the bouquets in front of him. He wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. Every few seconds, his gaze flickered upward—just for a heartbeat, just long enough to take in the soft glow of the flower shop’s afternoon light resting against the cashier’s skin, the way their fingers moved delicately as they arranged a bouquet for another customer.

The register chimed.

Hyunjin looked up just in time to meet their eyes.

His stomach flipped. He immediately dropped his gaze back to the flowers, heat prickling at the tips of his ears. God. Just choose a bouquet, Hyunjin. He snatched up the one with white roses and baby’s breath—something soft, something bright, something that just screamed Felix—and walked to the counter before he could change his mind.

The cashier smiled at him. Warm, kind. Disastrous.

“Is this a gift?” they asked, already reaching for the wrapping paper.

Hyunjin swallowed. “Yeah…”

He fidgeted with his rings, watching as they carefully tied a bow around the bouquet, hands moving with gentle precision. When they handed him the receipt along with his card, his fingertips brushed against theirs for the briefest second.

And then he ran.

────୨ৎ────

The second time, he convinced himself he needed new flowers for Felix Room. That was it. Nothing more.

The third time, he told himself it was probably normal to want to brighten up a space…like Felix‘s Gaming set up !

By the fourth, he stopped pretending.

────୨ৎ────

“Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin blinked up at Felix, whose face was a mix of exasperation and something dangerously close to fond amusement. His Desk was covered in petals, stems, and ribbons. Bouquets filled every possible surface—the floor, the window ledge, even the chairs in his Room.

Felix sighed, gesturing around them. “Are you out of your mind?”

Hyunjin pouted. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean,” Felix leaned against the desk, crossing his arms, “I really love you too, but you’ve been buying me bouquets for two weeks. I barely have any room to sit.”

From Felix‘s couch, Chan raised an eyebrow, looking thoroughly unimpressed as he shifted between two oversized peony arrangements.

Felix pointed at him. “Chan barely has room to sit.”

Hyunjin chewed on his lip. “I… might have gotten carried away.”

Felix scoffed. “Might?”

Hyunjin shrank into his hoodie, mumbling, “They just… have really nice flowers.”

Felix narrowed his eyes.

Hyunjin stared at the floor.

And then, realization hit.

Felix gasped. “Oh my God.”

Hyunjin immediately turned around, feigning sudden interest in the bouquet nearest to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You have a crush on the cashier!”

“Felix—”

“You do!”

Chan snorted from the couch. “Well, that explains so much.”

────୨ৎ────

Hyunjin ignored the teasing from his friends and slipped out of the dorm building, the familiar route to the flower shop already ingrained in his morning routine.

The little bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, and there they were—bathed in soft morning light, arranging a fresh display of tulips.

“You again?” The cashier’s voice was warm, teasing. “My dearest customer.”

Hyunjin let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… me again.”

They tilted their head at him, amusement dancing in their eyes. “Are you freshly married or something? Who are all these flowers for?”

Hyunjin hesitated. The truth sat heavy on his tongue, but his lips moved on their own.

“I’m a painter!” he blurted out. “I paint only flowers!”

The cashier’s smile widened, something knowing flickering in their gaze. “Is that so?”

Hyunjin nodded frantically. “Yeah. Flowers. Nothing but flowers.”

Their fingers traced the petals of a nearby peony, eyes glinting with amusement. “Well then, my favorite painter, let’s find you something worthy of your next masterpiece.”

The cashier’s fingers moved delicately, plucking a few stems from the display as they spoke. “okay…..“ “Hyunjin“ “ Okay Hyunjin! How about these? Something with soft colors, a little bit of texture…”

Hyunjin didn’t hear a word. He was too busy staring—not at the flowers, but at them. The way the sunlight caught the curve of their cheek, the gentle lilt in their voice, the way their hands handled every petal like it was something sacred.

“Hyunjin?”

His breath hitched. “Huh?”

They chuckled. “I asked if these would work for your painting?”

“Oh! Uh—yeah!” He nodded way too fast, nearly knocking over a small potted plant in the process. “Perfect! I love them! I mean, I—uh, I love… flowers. For painting. Which I do. Professionally.”

The cashier just smiled and rang up his order, their fingers brushing his as they handed him the bouquet.

Hyunjin swore his heart stopped.

“Thankyougottago!”

And then he sprinted out of the flower shop. Again.

────୨ৎ────

Felix stared at the growing jungle of flowers in their dorm, then at his best friend—who was currently lying face-down on the couch, groaning into a throw pillow.

“Okay, enough.” Felix clapped his hands, making Hyunjin peek up miserably. “We’re going back tomorrow.”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened in horror. “Felix, no—”

“Felix, yes.”

“But—”

Felix grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, already dragging him off the couch. “You’re clearly in love with them, and if I have to hear you sigh wistfully into your tea one more time, I’m personally putting you in a flowerpot.”

Hyunjin groaned. “But I—”

“Nope! No arguments!” Felix grinned, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Tomorrow, we’re buying flowers. And this time, you’re actually talking to them.”

Hyunjin had never wanted to disappear more in his entire life.

────୨ৎ────

As soon as they stepped into the flower shop, he instinctively ducked behind Felix, gripping the back of his hoodie like it was a shield that could somehow protect him from embarrassment. Felix, of course, had no such reservations—he strode straight to the counter with the confidence of someone who wasn’t about to be publicly humiliated.

“Good morning!” Felix greeted, flashing his signature sunshine smile.

The cashier looked up, surprised. Their gaze flickered from Felix to Hyunjin, who was half-hidden behind him, peeking out like a terrified puppy. And then—

“Oh my God!” Their eyes widened in realization. “So this is your boyfriend?!”

Hyunjin choked.

“What?!”

The cashier laughed, leaning on the counter. “Don’t tell me you were actually buying all those flowers for him this whole time. Were you lying to me?”

Felix snorted so hard he almost doubled over. “Oh, God, no!”

And before Hyunjin could even attempt to escape, Felix grabbed him—not gently, not kindly, but with the force of an extrovert on a mission—and shoved him right next to him at the counter.

“Listen,” Felix said, slamming a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder like a proud car salesman. “This guy? Right here? He’s been coming in every day, buying bouquets, pretending he’s some fancy ‘I only paint flowers’ artist—“Felix made dramatic air quotes—when really, he’s just been too much of a coward to admit he’s got the biggest, most ridiculous crush on you.”

Hyunjin made a strangled noise somewhere between a gasp and a dying animal. “Felix—”

“No, no, let me finish!” Felix cut him off, grinning like a madman. “Two weeks! He’s been doing this for two weeks, sighing dramatically into his tea, staring wistfully out the window like he’s the lead in a romance drama, all because he’s too shy to just ask you out!”

Silence.

Hyunjin could feel his soul leaving his body. He didn’t have to look in a mirror to know his face was the color of the deep red roses on display.

The cashier blinked. Then—

They smiled.

A soft, amused, fond smile.

“Is that true, Hyunjin?”

Hyunjin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. His brain was short-circuiting.

“I—uh—maybe?”

The cashier chuckled, resting their chin in their hand. “You could’ve just asked me to go out with you, you know.”

Felix gasped dramatically. “OH MY GOD—”

“Felix, I will kill you—”

The cashier laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “How about this—” they reached for a small bouquet of daisies behind the counter and handed it to Hyunjin, their fingers lingering just a second longer against his. “I pick the flowers today. And in return, you take me out for coffee?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched. His fingers curled around the bouquet.

“Yes,” he said, voice barely above a whisper. “Yes. Yes. I would love that.”

Felix clapped a hand over his heart. “My work here is done.”

[ivy-elle]

Jealousy, Jealousy

Part 1 ft. Scaramouche, Childe, Diluc, Xiao

Scaramouche

Jealousy?

Tsk. Please.

Don’t flatter yourself.

Do you really think someone like him would ever succumb to a pathetic sentiment such as “jealousy”?

If someone threatens to take what is his, that person simply ceases to exist.

There. Done.

Why would it ever bother him if you’ve found a new friend among his men?

He does not have time for such trivial matters.

He knows that person is not able to make you feel the way Scaramouche does. Not in the slightest.

What can they even offer you?

Time? Attention? A pathetic attempt at making you laugh?

Ridiculous

Just because Scaramouche hasn’t been able to be with you as much as he wanted to, doesn’t mean-

Now they’re pulling you into an embrace? The sheer audacity to do this with him in the room.

Are they truly that desperate?

No, while Scaramouche trusts you not to be foolish enough to embarrass yourself in that way, he has pride and a reputation to maintain.

And right now, his pride is flaming up.

He is seething.

He confronts them when they’re alone and makes things pretty clear.

Have they forgotten who he is?

“Oh, you really think you have a chance? How amusing. Know your place, or should I remind you of it again?.”

Childe

Oh, best believe this man here is protective af

Borderline possessive, even

Yet, he too, has enough faith in you not to taint the honour or your relationship in any way

So, he sometimes allows himself - for his own entertainment of course - to watch from afar as the guy puts his moves on you

Childe delights himself in the way you reject the guy’s antics in your own charming way

But when it becomes clear that the guy isn’t planning on backing off, Childe’s temper flares up, and he’d enrapture in the opportunity to put the dude in his place

Wouldn’t be above straight up making out with you then and there, just to prove his point

Would then proceed to look at the guy with a broad smile, an undeniable menace behind his eyes

“Hey there, comrade. 😄 Mind knocking it off a bit?”

Diluc

His jealousy is more often displayed as annoyance or irritation

But at the same time he maintains his stoic, yet dignified composure

Like during one of his shifts in Angel’s Share, if he notices someone flirting with you at the bar

He respects your independence, and recognises that you are capable of defending yourself and setting your own boundaries

However, that wouldn’t stop him from letting some passive-aggressiveness slip out

May it be if he places the ordered drink just a tad too loudly in front of the man, causing him to jump slightly

Or he might declare that their usual order is out of stock today, only to serve it to the next customer right in front of the man’s eyes

Yet, Diluc would keep a watchful eye on you, ready to intervene if you seemed uncomfortable or silently asking for his help

Xiao

With Xiao, jealousy takes shape in a less conventional manner

It’s neither hot, nor cold. It doesn’t burn, nor does it hurt

Not the way he wished it would at least

Rather when he spots you in merry company with a friend, a companion or a nice chat with a traveller from afar

He is greeted with a deep routed sense of guilt.

Not every time of course, but enough to cause a pit of self-hatred to add to his long list of faults in his character

Over the course of your time together, you have become quite attached to him, you loved him even

A concept he thought to have long forgotten

But your humans’ emotions are blinding you. Clearly. They have to.

While the world is out there, waiting for you to step out, calling your name

You choose to stay by his side

Instead of taking on the freedom he couldn’t gift you, you are now sitting next to him by the river

Your reflections watching him quietly with a smile

No amount of almond tofu you make, could fill the dull ache he feels in the back of his mind when you seem to be so blind to your opportunities, your chances, your life

Instead of staying in a cage he traps you in.

And yet, whenever you set out with your other companions you always return to him.

In the end, he will be the one keeping watch over your sleep in his bed, and you will be the one waiting for him at dusk

“This is no golden cage for me, Xiao. You are the one gifting me my wings.”

[rue-isabelle]

Author's note: This is a dark story!

Age is just a number (Part 3)

The sun was setting outside Carlos’s window, casting the room in warm orange hues. He sat on the edge of his couch, phone propped up in his hand, waiting for the familiar buzz of an incoming FaceTime call. It had become a ritual—Yn’s voice and face were the highlights of his evenings. Tonight was no exception. His heart skipped a beat as her name flashed on his screen.

He swiped to answer, and there she was, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, face glowing with excitement.

“Hi!” she greeted, her voice light and bubbly. “You ready for another round of my super interesting daily updates?”

Carlos chuckled, leaning back against the couch. “Always. Tell me everything.”

Yn tilted her tablet toward the camera, revealing a sleek pair of black ankle boots with silver embellishments. “So, first of all, I bought these amazing shoes. Aren’t they cute?”

“They’re beautiful,” Carlos said, though his eyes didn’t stray from her face. He couldn’t help but be captivated by her excitement.

“And,” Yn continued, moving the camera up to reveal a small haul of makeup items, “I finally got that lip gloss I told you about. The one that was sold out last time? Look, it’s so shiny.”

She swiped some on her lips, puckering at the camera with a playful smile. Carlos’s heart raced.

“Perfect,” he murmured, voice softer than he intended. “It suits you.”

Yn giggled, her cheeks flushing. “Okay, okay, enough of my shopping adventures. I also got some work done. Look!”

She switched her camera to show her tablet screen, where perfectly organized school notes were displayed in elegant handwriting, adorned with soft pastel highlights and little doodles in the margins.

“See? Aesthetic, right?” Yn asked proudly.

Carlos leaned closer to his phone, feigning serious study. “Wow. I didn’t know notes could look like art. You really do everything perfectly, don’t you?”

“Stop,” Yn said, brushing off the compliment, though her smile widened. “But yeah, I figured if I have to study, it might as well look nice.”

“I wish I had been that organized in school,” Carlos admitted with a laugh. “My notes were just scribbles. I think even I couldn’t read them half the time.”

Yn laughed, her whole face lighting up. Carlos stared for a second too long, completely mesmerized. She shifted the camera, now angled toward her outfit—a cute sweater and pleated skirt.

“I threw this on earlier, but wait until you see my pajamas!” She darted off-screen, returning moments later with a fluffy pastel pajama set covered in little cartoon clouds. “Aren’t they adorable?”

Carlos couldn’t hide his grin. “Muy adorable. But you could wear anything and still look beautiful.”

Yn rolled her eyes playfully, though her blush deepened. “You’re too sweet. But enough about me—what about you? What have you been up to today?”

Carlos leaned back, shifting the phone in his hands. “Not much,” he said vaguely. “You know, just the usual. Some workouts in the morning, then I spent the afternoon planning a little holiday.”

“A holiday? That sounds fun! Where are you going?” Yn asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“I was thinking about somewhere warm. Maybe a beach,” Carlos replied, keeping the specifics vague. “I like to stay active even on holidays—some hiking, swimming, things like that. And then there’s the food. I’m all about finding the best local spots to eat.”

“That sounds amazing,” Yn said wistfully. “I wish I could go on a holiday like that. But it’s not like my parents would ever take me. They’re always so busy.”

Carlos’s brow furrowed. “They travel a lot for work, don’t they?”

“Yeah,” Yn sighed. “They’re never home. It’s just me most of the time. Which is fine, I guess—I’m used to it. But still, it would be nice to have someone around, you know?”

Carlos’s chest tightened at the hint of loneliness in her voice. He had been thinking about it for days, but now felt like the right time to bring it up.

“Yn,” he said carefully, his tone soft but serious. “What if I came to visit you?”

Yn’s eyes widened. “You mean… here? Like, in person?”

“Sí,” Carlos said, his lips curving into a small smile. “I want to see you. For real this time. We’ve been talking so much, but I feel like I need to meet you in person. Only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

Yn’s smile grew impossibly wide. “Are you kidding? I’d love that! My parents are never around, so we’d have the house to ourselves. I can finally show you my favorite spots in town.”

Carlos felt a wave of relief wash over him at her enthusiastic response. “Perfect. I’ll arrange everything. Just say the word, and I’ll be there.”

“Word,” Yn said with a grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Carlos laughed. “Alright. Let me figure out the details, and I’ll let you know when I can come. It won’t be long, I promise.”

“You’d really do this?” Yn asked, her voice tinged with wonder.

“For you? Of course,” Carlos said softly. “I’ve been wanting this for a while, Yn. I can’t wait to see you.”

Yn’s cheeks flushed again, her smile never fading. “Me neither.”

As they continued talking, planning out the logistics of their meeting, Carlos couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement. He knew this wasn’t a typical situation, but something about Yn felt special—different. And he was willing to do whatever it took to make their connection even stronger.

-------

The next day, Carlos arrived at Yn’s house just as the morning sun cast a golden glow over the quiet neighborhood. Yn stood at her front door, dressed in a simple sundress that flowed with the breeze, her long hair catching the light. Her heart raced as she watched him step out of his car, wearing a casual button-up shirt and jeans that somehow made him look effortlessly perfect.

When their eyes met, Carlos smiled warmly, striding up to her with an ease that made her knees feel weak. Before she could say a word, he wrapped her in a gentle hug, his arms strong yet comforting, his cologne surrounding her in the most intoxicating way.

“Hola, hermosa,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“Hi,” Yn whispered, her cheeks flushed. “You’re really here.”

Carlos chuckled. “Of course I am. I told you I’d come.”

She beamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him inside. “Come on, I have so much to show you!”

Her excitement was infectious, and Carlos followed her through the house as she gave him a tour. She showed him the cozy living room where she watched movies, the kitchen where she often experimented with baking, and finally, her bedroom.

“This is it!” Yn announced, throwing the door open dramatically.

Carlos stepped inside, taking in the soft pastel tones, the neatly made bed, and the little trinkets and photos scattered around. It was so perfectly her—sweet, bright, and full of personality.

“It’s beautiful,” Carlos said, smiling as he glanced at the fairy lights strung along the walls. “Just like you.”

Yn blushed, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her dress. “Stop flattering me. It’s not that special.”

“It is,” Carlos insisted, his gaze soft as he looked around. “You can tell a lot about someone by their room. Yours is cozy, warm… it feels like home.”

Her heart fluttered at his words. She pointed to her bookshelf. “Okay, but this is my favorite part—my little library.”

Carlos walked over, brushing his fingers along the spines of her books. “You read a lot.”

“I love it,” she said with a shy smile. “It’s my escape.”

He turned to her, his expression tender. “I can see that. It suits you.”

After the tour, they headed to the kitchen, where Carlos suggested they cook together. “I’ll teach you how to make perfect spaghetti Bolognese,” he offered, rolling up his sleeves.

Yn lit up. “I’d love that! But fair warning—I’m not the best cook.”

“Don’t worry, mi reina,” Carlos teased, “I’ll guide you.”

As they started, Carlos positioned himself behind her, his larger frame enveloping her smaller one. His hands gently covered hers as he showed her how to chop the onions and garlic.

“Like this,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear.

Yn’s cheeks burned as she concentrated, his proximity making her heart race. “Am I doing it right?”

“Perfect,” Carlos said softly, his voice filled with pride.

When it was time to stir the sauce, he guided her hands again, standing so close that she could feel his chest against her back. Once she got the motion right, he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer.

“You’re a natural,” he praised, his lips brushing her temple in a soft kiss.

Yn felt herself melt into his embrace, her body relaxing against his. “It’s because you’re a good teacher,” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the bubbling sauce.

Carlos couldn’t help but smile. He was obsessed with their height difference—the way she fit so perfectly in his arms, her head just below his chin. It made him want to hold her forever.

As if reading his mind, Yn turned her head slightly to look up at him, their faces suddenly inches apart. Her breath hitched as their eyes met, the air between them thick with unspoken emotions.

“Carlos…” she murmured, her gaze flickering to his lips.

“Yn…” he whispered back, his voice low and filled with longing.

Slowly, they began to lean in, their lips just a breath away from touching. But before they could kiss, a loud hiss broke the moment—the water from the pasta pan was boiling over, spilling onto the stove.

“Oh no!” Yn exclaimed, breaking away from Carlos to grab the pot.

Carlos groaned in frustration, running a hand through his hair. “The timing!”

Yn giggled as she turned off the burner, her cheeks still flushed from their almost-kiss. “Maybe it’s a sign we should focus on cooking before we burn the kitchen down.”

Carlos laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe. But next time, no distractions.”

Yn felt her heart flutter at the promise in his words, and as they finished cooking together, she couldn’t help but feel that this was just the beginning of something even more magical.

--------

After finishing their dinner, Carlos and Yn moved to the living room. The soft glow of the TV illuminated the room as Yn scrolled through the movie options on the streaming platform. She was curled up on the couch, her knees tucked under her as she scanned titles, while Carlos lounged beside her, his long legs stretched out and his arm resting casually along the back of the couch.

“How about this one?” Yn asked, glancing over her shoulder to show him the screen.

Carlos raised an eyebrow. “A romantic comedy? Again?”

Yn pouted, her lips forming a small, exaggerated frown. “It’s my favorite genre! Please?”

Carlos sighed dramatically, pretending to be reluctant. “Fine, fine. I can suffer through one more,” he teased, though his smile betrayed him.

Yn grinned triumphantly and pressed play. As the movie began, she settled beside him, leaning just slightly into his side. Over the next hour, their positions gradually shifted. First, Carlos’s arm slid lower, resting on her shoulder. Then Yn tucked herself closer, resting her head against his chest. By the time the credits started rolling, she was lying completely on top of him, her small frame fitting perfectly against his.

Carlos’s arms wrapped securely around her, his chin resting lightly on the top of her head. He could feel her breathing, slow and steady, and the warmth of her body against his sent a wave of contentment through him.

“Comfortable?” he asked softly, his voice teasing but warm.

Yn tilted her head up to look at him, her cheek pressed against his chest. “Very.”

Carlos smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re going to fall asleep on me like this.”

“Maybe that’s the plan,” Yn replied with a sleepy giggle.

He chuckled, holding her a little tighter. “You’re impossible.”

As the room fell quiet, Yn let out a small sigh. “We should probably go to sleep.”

Carlos hesitated, not wanting to let go of her just yet. “You mean I should go sleep on the couch?”

Yn sat up slightly, looking at him with an expression that was equal parts amused and bashful. “No, I meant we should go to my room.”

Carlos blinked, taken aback. “Your room?”

Yn nodded, standing and grabbing his hand. “Come on.”

Still surprised, Carlos let her lead him down the hallway to her bedroom. The pastel hues and soft fairy lights he’d admired earlier felt even cozier now. Yn turned to him, her cheeks slightly pink.

“You can sleep here with me,” she said shyly, motioning to the bed.

Carlos tilted his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”

She laughed softly, brushing past him to climb onto the bed. “Just don’t hog the blankets, okay?”

Carlos kicked off his shoes and joined her, lying down on his side. Yn turned off the lights, plunging the room into a gentle dimness illuminated only by the soft glow of her fairy lights. The bed dipped slightly as Yn slid closer, curling into his side.

Without thinking, Carlos pulled her into his arms, his larger frame easily enveloping her. Yn relaxed against him, her head nestled under his chin as he became the big spoon.

“This okay?” he asked, his voice low and gentle.

Yn hummed in response, her fingers lightly gripping his arm around her waist. “Perfect,” she whispered.

Carlos smiled, his heart swelling. His hand moved to her waist, stroking gently, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric of her pajamas. Every little movement she made, from her breathing to the way she shifted slightly to get more comfortable, made his chest tighten with affection.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her neck.

Yn shivered slightly under his touch but didn’t pull away. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she teased, her voice tinged with sleepiness.

Carlos chuckled, his lips brushing her ear. “You know, mi pequeña,” he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, “I could stay like this forever. Just holding you.”

Yn smiled, her fingers gently brushing his arm. “I like being in your arms. It feels… safe.”

Hearing her say that made Carlos’s heart ache in the best way. He kissed her neck again, his lips lingering this time as he whispered sweet nothings in Spanish.

“Eres mi todo,” he murmured. “Mi hermosa estrella.” (You’re my everything. My beautiful star.)

Yn let out a soft sigh, her breathing evening out as she drifted off to sleep. Carlos stayed awake, his hand still lightly stroking her waist. He couldn’t help but admire her—the way her face looked so peaceful, the soft rise and fall of her chest, the way she trusted him so completely.

As his thoughts wandered, doubts began to creep in. What would the guys think if they saw him now? If they knew about Yn?

Lando’s voice popped into his head, sharp and serious. “Mate, are you insane? She’s 18! This isn’t like you. You are acting like a fucking pervert.”

And Charles, always the moral compass, would be even more dramatic. “Carlos, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind? This is—this is crazy! She is younger than your sister. Fuck she is younger than the youngest drivers on the grid. Have you lost your mind?!”

Carlos groaned quietly to himself, shaking his head. He knew they’d judge him. They’d be shocked, maybe even disgusted. He wasn’t sure how he’d explain it to them—or if he even could.

But then Yn shifted in her sleep, her small hand clutching his shirt, her body pressing closer to his as if seeking his warmth.

In that moment, all his doubts vanished. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought. Yn was here, in his arms, trusting him completely. That was all that mattered.

“Te quiero mucho,” he whispered into her hair, his voice filled with quiet conviction. “I’ll protect you. Always.”

And with that, Carlos closed his eyes, letting himself drift off, his heart full of peace.

[bookshelf-dust]

you have hearts for eyes

sirius black x fem!reader

word count: 5,451

warnings: minimal swearing, kind of modern!au, reader has insecurities about being inexperienced, very slight suggestive material, fluff/comfort

a/n: hello! i’ve been working on this fic for what feels like forever, and i am so happy to be done with it and to share it with you. i know my audience for sirius is a bit smaller, but i’m hoping some of you will appreciate and enjoy it and maybe find something in it. it means a lot to me and writing it definitely helped me work through some of my own struggles. please let me know what you think!! i love you so much. happy reading <333

————

Sirius’ apartment is really quite sweet. The walls are dark and draped with tapestries, ones you would never know where to find. Someplace you’re unfamiliar with, surely.

Of course you know it wouldn’t be nearly this nice without all of Remus’ help. Sirius thinks choosing to live across the hall from one another was the best decision they ever made. He had wanted to share a place with both Remus and James, but that was before Lily snatched him away.  

The couch is a deep wine color, the cushions bearing imprints from all the hands and backs and bottoms that have embraced them. He’s cracked the living room windows open, allowing the spring air to seep in.

He’s been pacing back and forth from the window where he’d be able to see your car pull up, and looking out the peephole on his front door. He pulls it open just as you’ve raised your hand to knock (despite having a key), making you jump. A boyish grin spreads across his face as he drags his eyes down your figure. 

“Well, Christ, don’t you look gorgeous.”

You feel the tips of your ears burn. One of your hands flies to rest on your lower belly. You put on a dress today; a lovely, long sundress you purchased in a short-lived moment of bravery, one you’ve never worn around him. Actually, you’ve never worn a dress around Sirius, period. Skirts, sure. But he has never seen you in something like this.

“Oh, quit that,” you mutter, dipping under his arm to enter his home. 

He turns around to watch you walk in as he pushes the door shut. “I will not.” He takes your bag from your shoulder, setting it on a stool just under the kitchen island. “Do a spin for me, love. That color looks so perfect on you.”

You oblige, letting yourself have this one moment where you lean into his flirting. His eyes follow the curve of your waist, the dress hugging it so gently where you’ve tied the strings around your back. The way the fabric drapes down your spine and is light enough that he can see each move you make, each effortless shift of your limbs. He has to be careful not to let his jaw fall open.

You complete your turn, stomach flipping at the look on his face. You scramble for something to say, to hide the way he’s flustered you.

“Okay, okay. No need to pretend to ogle anymore. All I did was put on regular people clothes.”

Sirius’ brows knit together. Pretend? Do you think he’s doing this just to flatter you? Just because he’s a naturally flirty man? He wants to toss you over his shoulder and show you how perfect you are. He crosses his arms.

“No pretending here, love. You do look stunning in that little number and I feel blessed that you have graced me with your presence while wearing it.” He shoots a wink in your direction. 

You run a hand over your collarbone and twist to plant yourself on his couch. He follows you, tucking himself into your side, his thigh pressed to yours. You can feel his gaze on you. 

“You’re terrible at taking compliments, you know that?” He gingerly takes your hand away from where it’s scratching at your neck and keeps it in his, subconsciously tracing the lines embedded in your palm. 

Your eyes fall on his fingers, watching the way his rings glint in the fading sunlight. “I did know that, yes.”

“Give me a compliment then,” he says, attempting to display how one can accept a compliment. Part of him knows he’ll go red once you give him that attention. 

You look at him, your mind swirling with every sweet thing you’ve ever wanted to say to him but kept to yourself because all this flirting doesn’t leave you as easily as it does him. 

“Your hair looks very pretty,” you let out, softly. A smile wide enough to expose his dimples spreads across his face. 

“Does it?” He gives his head a shake, the dog-like movement making you laugh. “I haven’t brushed it today.”

You tuck a strand behind his ear. “Would you like me to do it for you? I could braid it for you after so it won’t get tangled tonight.” 

That gesture comes from you so naturally that it makes Sirius swoon. You want to do that simply for his convenience and because it might make things a bit better on him. And he’ll be damned if the thought of your fingers touching his scalp and your nails on his neck doesn’t sound like the best thing since…well he hasn’t got a reference for that. But you’re often so shy when it comes to physical affection, and this just might make his entire life.  

This pool of thoughts must be showing on his face, because you suddenly look very flustered. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had hearts in his eyes to replace his pupils.

“I’d love it if you did. You really don’t mind?” he asks, already shifting to sit on the floor in front of you, trying not to make you feel too nervous because he knows you’re branching out just based on your actions since you arrived. 

“Nope. I love to braid hair,” you say, feeling a chill run down your spine seeing him settled between your legs like this, feeling the warmth of him through your dress and being able to really look at him—even if it’s just the backside of him—without feeling so shy.

Sirius grins to himself. He’s realized that you do keep a lot of things to yourself, and though he likes to think he’s cracked away at a bit of your shell in the time he’s known you, there is still so much he doesn’t know. 

“Did you know that Remus can braid?” he asks you, closing his eyes at the feel of your pinky fingernail parting his hair down the middle. 

You giggle. He could get drunk off that sound, and he knows so. It leaves him dazed. “Can he?”

“Apparently so. His mum taught him and used to have him do her hair because he was better at it than she was.”

“Well, that’s sweet. I should have him do mine. Test his skills. How’d you find out he could do it?”

Sirius lets out a breath of a laugh, “He did mine for a Quidditch match once. Mcgonagall used to fuss that I’d rip all my hair out if I didn’t contain it.”

You’re braiding his hair very slowly, much slower than you’d do yours or anyone else’s. His hair is so soft, and much thicker than you had realized. It’s got a wave to it, one you think you would be a bit more defined if he put some product in it. You’re enjoying the feel of it in your hands, the heat of his scalp against your skin. 

You’re losing yourself in it so much that you almost miss his words.

“I bet you guys had a lot of fun playing together,” you say, knowing that kind of bond must be one of the best things in the world. You tuck the strands of hair at the base of his neck in so they don’t droop when you’re finished.

Sirius wraps a hand around your ankle, and your eyes widen. 

“I wish we’d been friends then,” he tells you. Your nervous system is sent into overdrive, trying to adapt to such a casually intimate touch and the fact that he’s dwelling on the past. 

You tie off the end of one braid and start on the other. You exhale through your nose. “I don’t think we could’ve been.”

Sirius’ eyes open at this. He fights the urge to spin around and face you, but knows you’re concentrating, and he has the feeling that not staring at you directly is why you’re suddenly being so open with him. 

“Why?” he asks. Why couldn’t you have been? He’s always been friendly. Sure, he was much more rowdy in school, but he never would’ve tried to intimidate you. 

“We ran in different circles, you know? I certainly knew who you and the boys were, but everyone did.” Sirius’ brows furrow as he listens more intently than he knew he was capable of. “Though no one really knew who I was, except for my professors, of course. I was even more shy and reserved then, if you can believe that. I never really fit in, and I never found my people.”

“I sort of just…observed everyone. I did my best in class and tried to be social, but nothing ever stuck. I think there’s only one person I keep in touch with from Herbology. I learned at some point that I was going to be alone, and I might as well make the best of it.”

“So I guess what I’m saying is that we couldn’t have been because I’m not sure you ever would’ve seen me.”

The silence that follows your last few words is deafening, and all you hear is the sound of your blood rushing in your ears and your nails scratching against his hair as you finish the other braid. 

When he feels the tie rest against his neck, he forces the words up from where they’ve been sitting in his throat. “Love, I…”

He turns around so quickly you think he might’ve given himself whiplash. He’s giving you puppy dog eyes, and you hate that he’s feeling sappy over you and your pitiful school experience—or lack thereof. 

“Weren’t you lonely?” he questions, resting his hands on your knees. 

You start to fidget with one of your rings. “Of course I was. I know for lots being at Hogwarts are some of the best years of your life. But mine were very hard. I was extremely lonely, but I just learned how to be my own friend and do things that made me happy.”

“Plus I made great relationships with the professors, which helped me in getting a real job. And if that hadn’t happened…I’d never have really met you. Don’t feel bad for me, okay? It’s no big deal.”

Your words are followed by a poignant pause.

So much starts to click for Sirius, and all it does is break his heart. You give him a shy smile, and fuck, you’re absolutely right. He can’t remember what you looked like then, doesn’t remember seeing you in any of his courses. And he knows you’re a badass, but thinking about how he always had a circle, people he’d trust with his life and go to when he needed them, compared to how you were completely alone…that hurts. You deserve to be loved, praised, shown off to the world. You’re only a bit more outgoing now, and he knows much of that is owed to him and James. Remus is your introverted confidant. 

Sirius stands up and moves to sit next to you on the couch. 

“How could I not feel bad for you? Love, you’ve grown so accustomed to being alone that you don’t think it’s a big deal—not having a circle. You’ve accepted it, and I hate that you have felt so alone for so long.”

“Sirius, really, it’s—”

“Can I ask you something?” He blurts out the words, causing you to blink a bit. 

“You just did.”

“Please?” 

“Yes.”

“Have you ever had a boyfriend?”

Oh. That’s not where you were expecting this conversation to go. And this is one of the most embarrassing things to talk about. Especially with him, because you know he’s experienced. You’ve heard the stories.

Sirius takes your silence as encouragement to continue, scrambling to explain why he’d ask this. 

“Obviously you’ve been around us, you know James and Lily and—whatever, you know. And we sometimes talk about relationships or escapades and you always retreat when that happens. Is that…is that why?”

You swallow, ignoring the slight pressure behind your eyes. Fuck, this is embarrassing. Especially at your age, and knowing you’re behind everyone you know. It is hard to hear them talk about relationships or hookups. Most definitely when it’s Sirius. 

“No. I’ve never had a boyfriend.” 

Sirius blinks. He can’t understand how any guy could look at you and not want you all to themselves. That’s what he wants. 

“I’ve never even held hands romantically, Sirius. Isn’t that pathetic?” You feel the need to make sure he knows you realize how pitiful it truly is. 

Alarm bells ring in his head. 

“Darling, no. It’s not pathetic.” He searches your face, noticing the way you’re retreating from him. “Look at me, please?” He tracks your smile lines, each freckle or mark on your skin until you meet his eyes. His own brighten at your willingness to listen. “There she is.” 

Something about those words shoot straight to your stomach, butterflies smacking against your insides, begging to be let out. 

“Why do you think that’s pathetic, love?” He’s asking you seriously. That bitter voice, the one you’ve shoved deep inside the back of your mind, claws its way forward. It must be easy to think it’s not pathetic when you’re so experienced. Because you haven’t met the ache that comes from lacking what others have. You shake your head. 

“Because it is, Sirius.” He opens his mouth, but figures this isn’t the time to bicker. His jaw falls shut just as quickly. “I am twenty-two years old, and I have never had any romantic interactions, despite the fact that I have been desperate for one for years.” He knows you’re really letting your emotions fly when you begin to talk with your hands.

“It is so gut-wrenching sometimes to see people be so happy in their relationships. It’s hard for me to listen to our discussions when they delve into each of your experiences, because it tugs on my insecurities, and I try my best to hide it, but it does hurt.”

“Truthfully, I’m at a point where not only am I ashamed of all of this, but I’m afraid that a kiss, or a hug, or anything—that I just won’t feel anything. That maybe I will never understand what affection or love feels like and it’ll always be something I imagine. And my imagination only goes so far. There’s such a disconnect, and I can’t feel those things.” 

You rub at your temples. “So that’s why. I’m behind everyone else my age, and I wish I wasn’t.”

That little bit of anger you’ve worked so hard to suppress bubbles up in your chest. You worry he’ll say something that pushes it out, that he’ll give you that same spiel everyone else does—

“I could try and help you with your romantic interactions.” 

Your breath catches. Sirius’ gray eyes bore into yours. 

“But I’ll have you know,” he continues, “that I understand how you think you’re behind, especially with the stupid shit we talk about, and I don’t think it matters. You’re on a different path than I’ve been, but it’s not as though you’ll never do those things. Frankly, I can’t see why no one’s jumped your bones to date.”

Your nervous system feels so confused. At once you’re fighting that bout of frustration, and feeling your heart pick up at the idea of this actually being a possibility. 

“Did I braid your hair too tight?” you mutter. 

Sirius laughs, tossing his head back to reveal a glorious neck. “No, love.” He places a hand on your knee. “Now, be genuine when you answer this for me, alright?” He waits for your nod and then leans in close enough that you can feel his breath on your collar bones. 

“Is it really that difficult to see how enamored I am with you?”

Huh?

Sirius laughs again. Shit, did you say that out loud? 

“You did say that out loud.”

You slap your hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry,” you rush out, “that was supposed to stay in my head.” But all of the small things he’s done, all of the romantic things—cooking you dinner, helping you zip your dresses, buying you jewelry, even just making you feel seen—come rushing to the forefront of your mind. Perhaps you didn’t want to believe it. Or maybe you couldn’t believe someone would feel romantically about you and decided to block out any of his loving gestures.

He’s staring straight into your eyes, and it’s like he’s cast a spell on you, because you feel like you could spill your guts right then and there. And maybe it’s best you do. 

“I think maybe I’ve just convinced myself you’re sweet to everyone? That you’re a loverboy at heart and so it hasn’t meant anything more for you to be sweet to me.”

“Sweet on you,” he says. 

You blink.

“I am sweet on you, love. While I won’t deny that I am a flirt at heart and do my best to charm most anyone, I have dedicated my time to you as of late. Truth be told, I'd quite like to be your loverboy.” He pauses, looking over your face, a grin spreading across his. “But I suppose your inexperience explains why you’ve been so oblivious.” He’s made himself laugh now. 

You lean forward and smack him on the bicep, and even though it is a firm hit, there’s no malice in it, especially with that smile on your face. He’s not wrong at all—you have been oblivious. 

Sirius falls back dramatically onto the couch, feigning severe pain. “Fuck, you’ve wounded me.”

You roll your eyes, watching how he clutches his arm and gasps for air. His braids are splayed out, his cheeks a shade of rosy pink. He looks so…gorgeous. You’re in awe of him. It’s like when you stare at the statue of David, just completely entranced by how beautiful this man made of marble is. That’s how looking at Sirius feels. Taking in something so soft and knowing it should be handled with care. 

You hold out your hands, wiggling your fingers. “Alright, come on. You’ll recover.”

Sirius grabs hold of you, allowing you to hoist him up. When you do, you could easily touch noses. There’s a new tension in the room, one you’re sure anyone would be able to feel if there were more people there. 

You look down when you realize Sirius hasn’t let go of your hands. “So, what do you say?” he asks, bringing your attention back to his face.

Say something, you tell yourself. You’re just staring at each other, and you’ve got to speak. Your heart is pounding, rattling your rib cage. You want to have all of these experiences, you really do, but it’s also so terrifying to think about the vulnerability that comes with them. Though…it’s Sirius. And if you’re being truly honest, you’ve always wished it’d be him. That he’d look at you…the way he is now.

“I—I’d really like that. If you’d really like to deal with my clumsiness and all.” You give him a shy smile, and suddenly he’s threading his fingers with yours. He raises his hands, forcing you to do the same. Your fingers are intertwined, his hand engulfing yours, which is undoubtedly much smaller. 

You’re holding hands.

“Look, love. Now you’ve held hands romantically.” He laughs a little at the look on your face, one he’s sure is a result of the awe you’re in. You’ve never done this before. It feels so nice to have his hands in yours. They’re so warm, and sparks are shooting up your wrists. You feel giddy. 

You bite your lip in an effort to suppress the excitement that is practically begging to come out. He sees it though. “Is this making you happy, darling?” he asks. You nod enthusiastically, your ears burning. “Perfect. And about what you said, I did warn you that I was head over heels for you, so I might be so weak in the knees that I’ll be clumsy too.” He winks.

You squeeze his fingers experimentally. A little nervously. “You’re sure you want to do all this with me?”

Sirius squeezes back, his thumbs rubbing over your skin. “Of course I am. You trust me, don’t you?” He already knows the answer to that, but how could he not make sure that you feel safe with him?

“Always,” you say. 

“Good.” He glances down at your clasped fingers. “Wanna keep holding hands? It’s rather nice, isn’t it?”

You giggle, and he swears his insides turn to jelly at how sweet the sound is. “I think I’ve been spoiled now,” you say. “I might always want to hold your hands.”

Sirius presses a gentle kiss to your knuckle, locking eyes with you as he does it. Your heart kicks against your throat, your chest aching with the lack of air you’re getting. 

“You think you’re spoiled now? Best prepare yourself then, love.”

————

Sirius was right.

And that was confirmed when he gave you your first real hug. Not the quick hug you give your grandmother or your friend on the way out the door. But one of those hugs you’ve always seen in muggle romantic comedies or read about in your novels. The kind of hug you’ve never been able to fully wrap your mind around, but have imagined more than is healthy. When you lay in bed at night, clutching your teddy bear and wishing you could feel someone with you. 

He gave you your first romantic hug. And you’ve requested one each time he’s available. 

The request came after dinner one night, when he was watching you diligently scoop ice cream into a cone for him. Because you wanted to. Sirius hated to boost his own ego, but he had to admit that the way you had changed since furthering your relationship with him had you glowing. It’s not that you weren’t happy before, because you were, but this is different. It’s like he’s unlocked this vault inside of you, one where you’ve stored all this love and kindness, and he gets to experience it. 

He’s never seen you so…free. 

You’d set the ice cream cone down on the counter for him. “Ta-da,” you said, sticking the spoon back in the container and waiting for him to pick his toppings. He did so, admiring how you’d chosen things you knew he liked, how you were so giddy just from this moment. Your hair was a mess and you were wiping the stickiness from your fingers and he was so overwhelmed by you. 

“Sweetheart?” He’d asked, eyeing you as you did a happy little wiggle when you took a bite of the cheesecake ice cream you’d found earlier in the week. Your eyes found his, all doe-like, and your nose wrinkled because of how the pet name flustered you. 

He’d been trying those out too, and while getting you to do the same had been slow-going because of your nerves, you loved when he used them for you. 

You’d put down your spoon and hummed. “Yeah?”

He stepped closer to you. “Can I hug you, love?”

Your breath had caught, and at the same time that you were feeling immensely nervous and flustered, you were so excited. So excited to be hugged properly and by someone you were over the moon for. 

“Please?” 

You smiled and he laughed boyishly, moving in until your chests were almost touching. Your pulse hammered against your wrist. 

Sirius bent slightly, allowing you to rise up on your toes. He wrapped his arms around your waist, locking them snuggly against your back. Yours went around his neck, squeezing his shoulders. The entirety of his front pressed to yours, and he was so warm. 

Your fingers tentatively moved into the hair at the base of his neck, and you tucked your face into his neck, where he immediately felt your smile against his skin. 

Suddenly, Sirius had secured his arms tightly around you and lifted you up into the air, hoping to make you laugh. To show how giddy he was feeling. Because in truth, holding you like this, having you be his, filled a void in him he wasn’t even aware of. You were quickly becoming the air he breathed and everything in between. 

You kicked your feet and chuckled into his shoulder. He set you back down on the floor, and you hugged him for a bit longer. His were all-embracing, and in his arms, somehow all of your thoughts were immediately shut off, as if this was all the world consisted of. For Sirius, your hug made him feel as though this was the safest place he could ever be, and he knew it would be where he should go when he needed security. And you had this way of getting him to focus, to calm down and be present. 

Needless to say, you were both falling for each other. Though it should be mentioned that he’d already started before your relationship furthered, and you had suppressed your heart-eyes for him only because you never thought this kind of feeling was real. That it would be impossible for a boy to treat you this way. You try to let the little girl in you who always hoped for a fairytale romance celebrate every now and then.

There hasn’t been a label put on your relationship, but one night before you got there to hang out with everyone, Sirius calmly told the boys (and girls) that things between you had escalated to more-than-friends. And while they know you, it still felt right to make sure they wouldn’t pester you. 

In fact, they were overjoyed to see the both of you act so sweetly towards one another. James whispered in Lily’s ear more than once about how Sirius could not seem to take his eyes off you. Remus helped you in the kitchen and told you how nice it was seeing you so happy. So light. He’d given you a quick hug and wished you the best.

You have never felt so at ease.

Sirius has taken you on a number of dates at this point, some quaint and intimate, some more outgoing. You’ve held hands, hugged. You even got to cuddle with him on the couch. 

But you haven’t kissed. 

And you want to kiss him, so very bad.

But that is terrifying. 

All of your fears revolving that form of affection rush to the surface each time you contemplate when would be best to kiss him, if he wants to kiss you. What if you’re broken and you don’t feel anything? What if there’s no spark? What if, after all this time of hoping kissing would be enjoyable, after craving that intimacy, it just doesn’t work?

Every time you’re around him, all you want is to kiss him. You want that beautiful, sarcastic mouth on yours. You want to know what his plush lips feel like and learn how to kiss properly. You want to fluster him, and you want to be flustered. You want this. 

If you asked Sirius, you’d know he wants the same thing. Truthfully, he wants to pin you to the wall and kiss you silly. Until you forget every worry and anything that’s made you sad. Until all you feel is him. He wants to smother your pretty face in kisses. He wants to kiss every inch of you. 

Tonight, you’re going to Sirius’ place for a sleepover. And you are going to be brave and kiss him.  

————

Your socked feet are in Sirius’ lap, where he’s pushed your pajama pants up your calves so that he can rub his hands across the soft skin there.

Every once in a while, he’ll tickle the underside of your knee just to get you to giggle.

You’ve stopped paying any attention to the movie, and instead are looking at him. The only light in his small living room comes from the television and the array of eclectic lamps scattered around any surface he could fit one on. 

It casts shadows on his face, elongating that beautiful nose and the hollows of his cheekbones. His gray eyes look so dark, like storm clouds right before they let out all the rain they’ve been holding in. 

“Love?”

Sirius’ voice snaps you and your pounding heart out of your reverie. Your eyes lock with his, and you feel yourself heat up all over. He’s smiling at you. 

“Can you tell me what’s happening in the movie?” he asks you, crossing his arms in that oh so cocky way. 

Your thumb finds your bottom lip, picking at the skin there and trying to disguise the smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You shake your head, shyly. 

He straightens and leans in closer to you. “And why’s that, sweetheart?”

He has a hunch, but he wants you to say what’s on your mind, and you know that’s exactly what he’s waiting for. You know he could sit here all night until you spill your guts. 

“‘Cause I’ve been thinking about how bad I wanna kiss you.”

Sirius blushes, but he turns on the charm just as quickly. “Yeah? What’s stopping you?”

He places his hands on your knees. “I’m nervous,” you tell him. “You know I’ll be bad at it, and it might suck because of me, and even if all I want to do is kiss your sweet face, I just…want it to be good.”

He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. “Well, you know if it’s bad, that just means we get to practice.” You snort, and he rests his forehead against yours in an effort to console you and your nerves. 

You pull back and put your hands on his chest. It takes everything in you not to grin at how hard his heart is beating, especially with the swell of pride you feel knowing you’re the cause of that. 

“I really want to kiss you, Sirius.”

“I really want you to kiss me, darling.”

You inhale, scrunching your nose at him. At this point, you’ve got heart palpitations that are only going to get worse if you don’t act on this. 

“Meet me halfway?” you ask, tentatively. 

Sirius cups your face, leaning in slightly, but leaving you room to initiate. “Of course,” he breathes. 

You take hold of his wrists, fingers trembling. The feeling of his pulse both calms you and makes you sweat. 

You move forward, tilting your head to the side a little so you don’t smack noses. You can infer that much, at least. He inches closer each time you do, matching your pace. It almost makes you want to laugh at how slow and careful this is. You could also cry. 

When you’re close enough to feel his breath against your lips, you let your eyes close fully, as they’d been helping you find your mark so far. He meets you that last inch, and you are so grateful. 

Your lips finally touch in a short, but firm peck. You pull away, smiling, reveling in how soft his lips are. 

But now that Sirius has had a little taste of you, he can’t help but want more. He guides you back to him, helping you find a rhythm together. He slots your bottom lip between his, kissing you so brilliantly your brain empties of all thought. You do your best to kiss him back, albeit a little clumsily. He doesn’t seem to mind. 

You catch on when he takes turns paying attention to each of your lips, and you try and press all of the passion you feel right back into his. 

Every worry you previously had is gone.

You do feel that spark. It feels so magical, so all-encompassing, to be kissed like this. To have Sirius kiss you. 

You’re breathless. 

When Sirius finally pulls back for air, he presses kisses to your jaw and down your throat. The affection is so close to drawing a whimper from your throat. You know immediately that you could get drunk off of him. 

You pull him back up to you by his hair for one more short kiss and he grins boyishly into it. 

He starts to laugh. 

“Shit,” you start. “If I thought I was spoiled before, I really had no idea what was coming to me.”

Sirius tosses his head back, completely infatuated with you and so fucking gleeful at being yours. Because he is. Yours. 

“You’re gonna get sick of me,” you say. “Now I want to kiss you all the time.”

“Oh, love,” Sirius exhales. “What makes you think you’ll have a moment where I’m not the one addicted to you?”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

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[rosesnbooks]

Libra placements

disclaimer: i am not a professional! i write based on what i know from reading and observing others for fun.

🤍sun in libra-very charming people who usually get along with anyone they meet but they can be quite hard to read. they appear peaceful and calm, often with a smile. when they show up in the room, people naturally gravitate toward them. they dislike confrontations and if you push them hard enough, they’ll throw a fit. they care about their appearance so they look presentable most of the time, even in the comfort of their home. they like socialising with others, especially with those who bring them excitement and a sense of security. they deeply value fairness, but their feelings for others can sometimes cloud their judgment. if they give you several chances but suddenly cut you off, you should know that this didn’t happen overnight and that you’ve crossed too many lines. their loved ones are very important to them. people also underestimate how much they appreciate friendship. if underdeveloped, they can be fake because their hunger for attention and being liked can get out of hand. romance is very important as well, for many, because they love the idea of love and the high they get from it. some of them can be indecisive and even rely on others too much. they have a specific vision in mind of a perfect lover so they tend to seek out similar partners, at least visually. they like to daydream and manifest their perfect life.

🤍moon in libra-they are often idealistic but reasonable at the same time. placing themselves in a setting that is comforting and beautiful matters to them, as well as surrounding themselves with people who give them peace and happiness. They dislike spending too much time with intense people, especially those who seek chaos and have a pessimistic mindset. they tend to hide their feelings, so unless you ask them directly, they may not tell you anything if they don’t feel ready. they like to present themselves as if they have everything under control and that they’re living happily. don’t judge the book by its cover because these individuals have depth and strong emotions just as much as other signs. they process their emotions quietly in the privacy of their home (or any other safe setting). honestly, when they get angry they might seem like a completely different person. the underdeveloped ones are big gaslighters…they can use their charm to get out of many situations, and they also don’t know what they want. I admire their optimism because they tend to believe that no matter what happens, they’ll get through it.

🤍ascendant in libra- they feel familiar and sweet, so people have a relaxed demeanor as soon as they see them. they seem lovely and most of the time they are. they’re helpful to those who are nice and treat people kindly, no matter who they are. they have a nice figure and their style is usually consistent so it’s easy to recognize them. their smiles are super warm and many people find them attractive. their kindness and openness can sometimes make them vulnerable to manipulation. sometimes, even their loved ones take them for granted or don’t treat them right, and libra rising finds it difficult to fight for themselves, but they can work on that. they don’t usually go unnoticed and they have a strong desire to be liked, even if they don’t show it openly. i’ve noticed that they have a strong connection to music and listen to it all the time. they seek romance in their life and while that’s obvious for some, others try to hide it and display this side of them to those they trust. they notice the changes in someone’s energy easily and they're smart.

🤍mercury in libra-they treat everyone equally. in my opinion, it’s not easy to see when they dislike someone because they hide it so well. people generally have good opinions (or at least neutral) about them. they like to laugh and make jokes, and their voices are pleasing to the ear. they make others feel comfortable and safe, so a lot of people open up to them. they are genuinely interested in what anyone wants to say and they have lots of empathy. If they want to, they can be pretty good public speakers. they like to express themselves in various creative areas in their life so they often have different interests too. they highly dislike people who don’t care about morals and justice, but if underdeveloped, they can share these qualities because they do things for their own personal gain (or they are simply unaware that they’re doing something wrong)

🤍venus in libra-they crave love intensely and they seem to have a crush at all times. however, their imagination can be a lot better than the real thing which disappoints them when they let it get too far. when they like someone, they obsess over them and many of these people are ready to put their needs aside to be there for their person. it’s like everything in their life starts to evolve around their crush or partner, and this can lead to self-neglect. they are very romantic and they like to be pampered by their partner. unfortunately, many attract people who aren’t ready to give them what they desire. they can be a bit too traditional, if underdeveloped. loving them feels like being in a rom-com.

🤍mars in libra-very reasonable people who don’t get angry easily, unless they feel like you’ve crossed too many boundaries. developed mars in libra individuals prefer to address conflicts calmly and constructively. they can be hard-working and dedicated to their craft once they start doing something they love. they are also quite creative. they get along with many people and almost everyone has nice things to say about them. they’re helpful and understanding, and they value fairness, of course. they cherish the small things in life and they can manifest their dreams! they love their freedom and independence, but they also love being surrounded with their loved ones. i've noticed that many of them like to travel, in hopes of seeing the world in all its beauty and meeting lots of interesting people. they cherish their alone time as well.

🤍jupiter in libra-they achieve most luck in life when they focus on living harmoniously and surround themselves with loving and balanced people. they thrive in healthy partnerships (whether personal or professional). they’re able to listen to both sides and evaluate their views before making a final decision and this enables them to form meaningful relationships. their qualities are perfect for leaders and they are natural mediators. people ask for their advice often. they notice beauty and potential in everything. they can be ambitious and they know how to work with others, how to make compromises, and their patient character grants them success. they have a strong sense of justice and want equality.

🤍saturn in libra-saturn works well in this sign so there aren’t too many issues. they share most traits as those with jupiter in libra. i haven't met anyone with this placement as far as i know, but i have read that these people tend to either have trust issues or that they have extremely high standards that those around them cannot possibly fulfill. they need to learn how to rely on others and work on creating a balanced life, one in which their needs are met and where they aren’t too afraid of putting themselves out there.

I want to thank everyone who contributed to the making of this post♡

©rosesnbooks

[naesfilm]

⏦ﾟ♡︎ groom . . . im nayeon x fem! reader

༯ synopsis : nayeon doesn’t want to take a bath . . .

༯ warnings : hybrid , smut , soft sex , bath sex , fingering , nipple play / light stimulation , soft overstimulation , bunny nayeon , bottom! nayeon , top reader

༯ word count : 2.1k

“Nayeon~”

The bunny perked, ears lifting lazily as she turned her head from her spot on the couch - hand hesitating over her ipad. She paused, setting the device down and turning on the couch and-… her ears lowered back again when she saw you. “Yes?”

You gently smiled, hands resting on her head and rubbing softly. “What’re you doing? Anything time consuming?”

“Jus’ playing games…” Nayeon murmured, bunny ear lazily flopping against your hand in response to the gentle pets. “…why?”

“Well, today is Friday.”

Nayeon blinked. “…yeah?”

“It’s your grooming d—“

“Noooo…!!!!” Whined the bunny immediately, beginning to thrash about to move away. You quickly grabbed her, hoisting her up with an awkward oomph that made Nayeon’s expression sour.

“Yah, i’m not that heavy.”

“No, but you are feisty.”

Your hands slipped; one holding her waist and the other holding her legs as she laid with her body half over your shoulders- whining and wagging her fluffy tail agitatedly. “Y/nnnn~ I don’t need to be cleaned…! I’m a clean girl!”

“You don’t groom properly,” You huff, patting her butt. “Up we go.”

Nayeon’s whines filled the dorm, causing a few others to peek out of their rooms. Yoo Jeongyeon being one that outwardly snickered. “Haha, you have to get a bath~”

“Shove it, mutt!” Huffed Nayeon, tiny tail shifting as she stuck her tongue out.

“Good luck, Y/n!” Resident bear hybrid Park Jihyo called as you rounded into the bathroom. “She’s a scratcher!”

You swiftly shut the door, listening to the faint giggles before locking it and guarding it softly, sitting Nayeon on the sink and holding out a hand. “Clothes.”

“Y/n-“

“Clothes.”

She huffed, begrudgingly reaching and pulling off her shirt — droopy blonde bunny ears flopping back against her head with soft smacks. Then her hands trailed back to her bra and unclipped it, passing that along too. You began to wordlessly fold the clothes, fighting to keep your attention from the woman in front of you.

Of course, that was hard, as not only was Nayeon getting undressed, but she was also huffing and puffing. It was very very adorable to witness.

Finally, once all her clothes were removed, Nayeon crossed her arms and pouted — her bottom lip jutting out in a cute display of annoyance. “Get your butt in the tub,” You chuckled. “I already drew the bath a bit ago, it’s still nice and warm.”

“Mm.” The blonde grumbled, sounding like an angry toddler as she walked over and begrudgingly stepped into the tub; soapy water coming up to just barely hide her chest as she sunk down in. “This is so stupid.”

“Such a complainer~”

Nayeon spared you an eye roll.

You padded over and affectionately smiled toward her, grabbing a stool and sitting down as you lifted a tiny cup and began to gently run the warm water over her sensitive ears. Nayeon whimpered instantly, her agitation and overall bad-girl attitude disappearing the moment the water hit her head.

It wasn’t the water Nayeon hated, but rather the sensitivity of her ears. And that always made her…well—

“Too hot?” Your voice came, low and softly as you ran the water down her back before moving back up to her ears.

Nayeon shook her hand, thighs pressing together as she pulled them up to her chest and silently pressed her face into their backs. Your hands came next, gently reaching up and caressing the soft fur of her ears— rubbing over hypersensitive areas and working her up to the point of a sweet flush on her features.

“Y/n…”

“Yes?” You’d whisper back, deeming her ears and hair wet enough to move on to wetting the tops of her shoulders and bit of her back that was above the water.

The older woman gave a soft shiver. “…I-“ Her cheeks puffed and she looked away. “…guess this isn’t so bad.”

Adorable.

“See?” You chuckled. “I knew you could be a good girl for me.”

Nayeon flushed further, ears gently lowering. “…’m always a good girl…”

“Oh? Are you?”

The noise of soap being squirted into your palm made Nayeon squeeze her eyes shut. The shampoo you used was a pet brand, but was scented with sweet lavender. It smelled like you, and Nayeon half wondered if maybe you used the same kind.

Whatever, it didn’t matter.

The bunny just appreciated your scent.

Rub, squeeze, repeat.

You combed through her hair with your fingers, easing the soap around and taking extra care to trace the lengths of her ears — making a desperate heat pool to Nayeon’s core as she shyly sat there, letting you take your time and make sure she was all properly cleaned and groomed well.

“…feels good.”

You smiled at that. “I can tell.”

“Mph.” Nayeon glanced away, before slowly moving her legs to stretch back out, so she could lay her head back more. You grabbed the cup from before and filled it with water, slowly easing it over her head and against her ears— draining the soap away. Yet Nayeon…- didn’t want to leave the bath.

She nibbled on her lip the moment you started to clean up. “Wait.”

You paused, glancing over.

“Can you…” A gulp. “Wash my body too?”

A heavy flush. Your cheeks had grown ten times hotter, and you swallowed pretty thickly, adjusting yourself before whispering back. “… are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Her reply was instant and it made her shy away, gently— leaning back to expose the tops of her breasts in the water. Your eyes snapped down, a thick swallow following at their pale skin— the slope so perfectly carved and topped with two rosy-hued nipples, already begging for your attention.

“…right,” You pulled your hands with some soap, and gently eased in a manner where her body was in better display before — your palms met her sensitive chest, rolling it around slowly and squeezing to work her up.

Nayeon’s moans we’re soft but instant, eyes shutting as her head lolled back. “Mn…Y/n…”

She let out a soft gasp that you were sure you’d imagined the second your thumb slipped over a needy tip— her chest straining more for your love and care. Delicate and languid strokes left her shaking in the tub, thighs rubbed together and moans falling with more passion as your hands kept their ministration up— teasing her to the brink of it all with sweet flicks and h gentle tugs.

“P-Please,” Nayeon had whispered after she endured the torturous pleasure for long enough. “Need you…”

“…” Silently, your dominant hand traveled down, parting her thighs and— you ducked in a breath. Even despite the water you could feel her wet arousal, warm and needy— coating your fingers already. “…fuck.”

Nayeon whined in embarrassment and excitement, gently turning and nuzzling her head into your neck as your middle finger traced her slit and dipped in, caressing her folds precisely. The older girl was left trembling.

Especially when those expert fingers danced up to her eagerly puffed clit, begging— no, screaming to be toyed with. You first

rolled it between your middle and ring fingers, watching her back needily and imagining she probably squeezed around nothing (she did), and then you returned to slow and steady rubs — similar to what you had done to her ears.

Nayeon was an absolute mess.

Her hands jumped and gripped the sides of the tub, her mouth creating and releasing lewd noises Nayeon swore up and down she’d never release. Gods forgive her. She was just so achy and your fingers— fuck, they felt like a damn miracle.

“Just like that..” She panted breathlessly, groaning afterward as her hips rubbed in sync to your fingers, grinding herself further against you. “F-Fuck— need it Y/n/n, please…!”

You gulped because- holy shit?

The bunny girl was so, so needy and desperate for you and the way she rubbed up against your hand felt like heaven. Gently, your fingers lead down the length of her pussy — a pretty red hue taking over down there from all the stimulation. Your fingers met her entrance and Nayeon shuttered, fluttering around nothing as her eyes glanced and met yours and she nodded.

With all the confirmation you needed being in that very nod, you slightly withdrew one finger before easing in your middle, feeling her body adjust to take you in. Nayeon’s ears were practically pinned down, head lolling back as a moan left her lips. Something about the way you eased in while the water was being pushed away from her just— god.

“N-Ngh, Y/n…”

“Shh,” You hushed gently, glancing down and agitatingly swishing away a few bubbles so you could get a clearer view down in the water of how her cunt practically swallowed your finger whole. After a few slow minutes, Nayeon had you down to your knuckle, and you were able to brace your hand using your free fingers— giving enough power and strength to pull out and push back in at a slow pace.

Nayeon was tight from nerves but the moment the pad of your thumb lifted to rub over her aching clit - which begged greedily for more touches - Nayeon came undone. A sharp whine left her lips; ears working up completely, hips lifting in the water, walls unclenching around your finger to allow you better movement.

“Good girl,” You whispered softly, swallowing afterward. “Taking it so well…”

“Oh my god…-“ The blonde’s eyes squeezed shut, little moans rippling from her pretty throat which—

Your lips moved quickly. Too empty, you thought, as they pressed against her neck and gently nipped and sucked pretty flower-like patterned bruises into the pale skin there. Nayeon groaned and the vibration sounded against your lips in a nice toe-to-toe dance.

Still, your finger pushed in and out of her, knuckle deep, edging her walls and making her whine up needily, especially now that your lips were attacking her neck. And finally —

“M-More…” Whimpered the older girl.

You nodded and looked down at her body — bubbles covering her chest in the most erotic yet beautiful manner. You gently slid your finger almost out of her before your ring finger came to rest beside it, both then pushing in.

“F-Fuck…! Y/n..!” She shyly wrapped her arms around what bit of your shoulders she could reach, body curling up as your fingers slipped in — the wetness of her cunt allowing easy, almost embarrassing, passage into her. “F-Feels so good…”

Her hips squirmed, thighs coming to press against your arm as they fluttered shut against your wrist.

Nayeon’s ears flopped again, her lower half beginning to tremble as she tapped a slightly damp arm against the back of your neck. “G-Gonna—..fuck-“

The rapid taps on your neck garnered your attention, and you quickly attended to her — occasional swipes of your thumb on her clit, the quick and steady thrusts of your fingers; swallowed up by her cunt.

“B-Baby—“ Nayeon began, panting as she wiggled her hips.

She was getting close; clawing her way up to her peak as she clenched around your digits, whining and nuzzling what little bit of you her head could reach. Her voice had stopped from being real moans — shifting to a sort of higher pitched whine, lazy thrusts of her hips aiding in the gentle thrusts of your hand. Ripples echoed in the water behind her from her thrashing and the wagging of her tiny fluffy tail.

Your name left Nayeon’s lips in a hushed whine, as she gently ejected her claws and scratched slowly at your neck — red welts building from the force.

“Come on baby,” You encouraged, slightly breathless from the sight before you. Gods, she was perfect. “Come on, you can do it…”

Nayeon whimpered, shaking her head despite knowing full well she wanted nothing more than her own sweet release. Nayeon’s stomach sunk in and out quickly, her light abs showing as she pressed her face into your neck. “..’m gonna…!”

With a jolt, her body staggered and her hands clawed anxiously at you, walls tightening around your fingers and siphoning you in more as they spawned with the force of her release. Warmth radiated from that spot in intense waves, her climax happening quick and intense.

A low moan left her lips as your fingers stalled, lips skirting against your neck. “…oh my god,” she breathed finally, tiny waves of winces and huffs rolling through her body.

With resistance from her inner walls, you slowly pulled your fingers out and waved them in the water a bit to clean them off, before resting them on her thigh and holding her there.

Nayeon panted slowly, and you whispered.

“Good girl, good bunny…”

The older sighed, and silently nuzzled your neck. “…thank you,” She murmured loosely, voice hoarser than before, filled with the undertones of her pleasure. “…felt good.”

You hummed, rubbing her waist slowly until the tremors and winces subsided. And then you patted her thigh. The bath was now over, with Nayeon being properly cleaned.

[yourheart-inmyhands]

Just remembered the fallen god reader thingy- what if reader just one day regains their power ;)) and then just leaves them, I'm like super offended ;(( I dont wanna be mistreated by them

ahaha this ask made me chuckle a little! unfortunately my version of yandere archons aren't sweet in every scenario, i do still hope you enjoy though! :D

Warning: this post contains yandere-themes, including mentions of being held against ones will, mentions of manipulation, mentions of violence, and other potential topics. Please read at your own risk!

Venti:

Well, he certainly can’t just let you leave, not after all that hard work he put into nursing you back to health. No no, don’t you see, you owe him. You could try and claim he was doing it out of the goodness of his heart, I mean he’s an Archon, a god just like you, doesn’t he see how unjust it is to demand payment?

You could beg and plead all you want, but unless your powers are enough to break the elemental barriers he’s set up, then I’m afraid you’re trapped. He won’t mistreat you, he’ll be nice and sweet to you so long as you behave, but your freedom will forever be removed.

“It’s not fair you say? A lot of things in this world aren’t fair, it’s just how it is.” His bright smile and humorous laugh do little to settle your unrest. No matter how hard you begged, how fast the tears poured from your eyes, or how strained your voice became from constant pleading, nothing worked. Perhaps if you learned to behave he’d let you see the sun again, until then, think long and well about all he had done for you. Remember exactly just how much you owe him for the things he’s done for you.

Zhongli:

He finds it curious that your powers have suddenly returned, but it does little to change his authority over you. Regardless of the strength you show or possess, Zhongli has ingrained into your mind just how weak and pathetic you are. You are nothing without him, your silly little powers mean nothing if you aren’t here with him. Can’t you see that? Can’t you see that you need him?

There’s little that would change about the dynamic between the two of you, if anything it just gives Zhongli an excuse to be around you more. His eyes seem to always be observing you now, watching keenly to ensure you don’t dare step out of line. There will be consequences if you should try.

“Dinner is done, come eat.” His tone is warm, but there’s a familiar sense of sternness in the undertone. Since the resurgence of your powers, Zhongli had made sure to remind you of your place below him. It didn’t matter how hard you fought, the elder god showed little remorse when overpowering you. It was astounding to think that even after the loss of his gnosis he could still hold such power over you, but then again, Morax wasn’t known as the War God for nothing.

Raiden:

She doesn’t believe you at first, those who lose their divinity are not simply granted it back. It would take a long while and many displays of your capabilities to convince her. It doesn’t much change her opinion of you though. Raiden still thinks you are foolish and weak to have lost your powers to begin with. And for that, you should suffer the consequences.

Every escape attempt or effort put in to fight back is quickly shut down. She doesn’t even let you build up the hope that you’ll be able to land a hit before she’s got you disarmed, pinned, and once more shown your place beneath her. It gets a bit frustrating, having to always correct your silly outburst.

“When will you learn that you are nothing compared to me? You should be grateful I have enough decency to put up with this behavior, if you were anyone else I’d have tossed you to the streets like the pathetic waste you seem keen on acting like.” Her words are as rough and painful as her hold on you is. She has you under her, pinned to the floor in the living room of her home. It’s an embarrassing sight, your face held down to the hardwood as she scolds you like a child. This wasn’t the first time it had happened, but Raiden had hoped that by now you’d have learned your lesson. She is getting incredibly fed up with you.

Furina:

Your return of power puts her in a tough position because before when you were powerless, she had something to hold over your head. Now, you hold the power and she’s left to flounder.

There isn’t much she can do to keep you from leaving, sobbing on her knees as you walk towards the front door. It wasn’t fair, it wasn't fair that you got to get back what you lost, it wasn’t fair that you got to still be connected to divinity when she was cut entirely from it. 

“Please, please don’t leave me…” Furina kneels on the ground, hands balled into fists as she begs and sobs. She can just barely see the sides of your shoes as you walk past, disregarding her as you head for the front door. When she’s sure you’re not looking she ceases her crying, the tears were fake from the start. Reaching for the pipe she hid under the couch, she silently grabs it before standing. It was easier to hit you, having stopped in the doorway to admire your freedom, you had been too caught up to hear the soft patter of her footsteps behind you.

[muffinsin]

ok but how would the sisters react to their g!p s/o accidentally doing something sexy? for example, they walk in as reader spills wine or something down their shirt...just picture it...sitting on a loveseat, manspreading in some nice trousers...red wine dripping their neck/chest because their shirt is open? are we going to be toast? 🧐

Ohh, I see👀 “Are we going to be toast?”, dear anon, yes XP. They are, after all, insatiable. Let’s get into it! ;)

Masterlists

Bela

Some would assume being the eldest comes with a lot of experience in about every single way

A lot of lovers, a lot of flirts and sex, among them

In Bela’s case, you know better

Not indulging in many before you, she’s easily flustered by just about every little thing you do

A single kiss enough for her to lean into you, a hand on her hip enough to make her fluster, low whispers, promises of what you will do enough for her to squirm and flush beautifully

And all this, being flustered so easily, was revealed before she found out about the appendage between your legs

Now that is truly something to make your blonde beauty fluster easily

While she’s normally quite controlled, you make her lose control far too easily

Such as today

You’re not particularly aware of what you’re doing, sitting in the armchair in her room, drinking the wine her family is so very known for, and reading one of her favorite books

You take no notice of your legs, wide apart as you manspread like you usually do, nor how full the glass of wine is

You don’t recall filling it this much at your last refill

Still, you pay little attention to it, instead fingering the pages of the book gently as each page is turned

Bela walks in on you like this, and her breath hitches immediately

Her thick, shapely thighs push together instantly as pleasure hits between her legs

Your legs, spread wide, allow her to see the bulge in your fancy trousers

She can see it even through them, the pants outlining it nearly perfectly

She sees it and can automatically use memories to add to it, so that she can perfectly picture your tip, surely being slightly pink from being pushed up against the trousers

Your balls, set against them in the obvious outline

And of course the large shaft, thick and long, enough to make her see stars when you’re halfway in already and enough to have her claw at whatever she can when you’re fully pushed in

Her eyes wander, somewhat shameless as you aren’t aware of her just yet

She finds your blouse, white, not entirely buttoned to the top

Your nipples are pushed against the fabric and your collarbone is revealed

She feels her face heat up immediately and desire rise within her

Too absorbed in your book, you haven’t looked up and taken notice of her just yet

Poor Bela is trying hard to keep it together, to hold onto her facade of the cool-headed, composed heiress

Then though, you grasp for your glass again

And as you set it against your lips, wine spills over, the fullness of the glass having surprised you

You gasp as it drips past the rim of the glass, past your chin and onto your chest

Your eyes meet hers as she inhales sharply, and you smirk upon seeing her flushed cheeks and clenched thighs

Slowly, the red wine stains your shirt, drawing her attention to your erect nipples and soaked chest

Then, before you can even mutter a word, she’s on you, her golden eyes revealing desperation she isn’t known for

“Bela,”, you chuckle, but you too gasp quickly when her hands drop to your bulge and squeeze

She needs you now, wants you now

And you’re all too eager to give all you have to her

Wasting no time, you bring her dress up to her hips

She’s straddling you, her thin fingers playing and tearing at your blouse as her dress is hiked up

You groan when her smooth, pale ass is revealed to you

Her cheeks are nearly fully on display thanks to the thong slipping between them, and you grow almost painfully erect at the sight already

You know she’s tight, and your cock aches as you dwell on the memory of taking her, all of her, granted to use her body and holes for the pleasure you both seemed

As you allow your hand to slide across her ass, you wonder if you will be granted to take her like that again today

She’s moaning in your ear already, adorably sensitive- and wet, no doubt

Soon, your blouse is entirely unbuttoned and her hands drop to your lap

As you massage her ass and tease her by sliding your fingertip across the panties cupping her still, she works on undoing your pants and freeing you

You know, you will no longer have time to read now and quite frankly have no desire to do so just now anyway

Not when you could be doing Bela instead

By the end of it you’re all but covered in black lipstick marks, your cock a mix of pink and red, black lipstick marks and white, creamy cum sticking to it

You’re breathing heavily as you hold her hip, ensuring she doesn’t fall, and keep her close to you

The both of you sit, exhausted, upon the armchair you ruined and stained, slashed and wore out

You don’t mind

She will get a new one

She always does

Cassandra

One thing you learn about your girlfriend early on?

She’s rather insatiable, bold, eager, dirty, and just about as naughty as one might think she is

And when she sets her eyes on something, she wants it, and she wants it the moment she spots it

This also includes you

Often, you find yourself cornered by her, groaning, moaning, panting as she bobs her head up and down between your legs

Or perhaps granted a view of her strong backside as you thrust forth and back and slam your hips to her full, jiggling ass cheeks

Or something simpler, like her hand in your pants, sometimes agonizingly slow as she rubs you to an orgasm, at other times so fast you can barely contain yourself as you spill in her hand and your underwear

One thing is always the same, though

There’s always a certain look in her eyes before this happens

A hunger, a desire for touch and pleasure

She easily and effortlessly seduces you, and it seems you do the same to her

Today is no different

You’re sitting in a loveseat, sharpening one of her weapons for her

A small gesture, but one you know she will appreciate, even adore

Romance is different with Cassandra, it’s its own kind, one you’re proud you’ve figured out

She’ll practically swoon when showed her sharpened sickle, you know

You hum a little to yourself, then jump when the door slams open and a certain brunette enters

Her eyes are immediately on you, and again you notice the hungry look in her eyes

They’re set on you, or to be more precise; on the visible bulge between your rather spread legs

You know, manspreading isn’t quite helping her contain her lust

You’re practically teasing and tempting the nymph-like woman at times, and you can’t help but enjoy it

She’s on you in an instant, moaning and hissing when the tip of her sickle digs into her side

Your dick twitches a little at the sweet sound, aching as it pushes against the rich fabric of your trousers

Her desire is clear as day, her sharp nails already digging into your shoulders, her crotch hovering above your lap

Today, you feel like teasing her. You feel you’re up for the challenge

As such, you bring your palm down, your fingers gripping her wrists tightly just when she’s about to reach for your crotch

She raises her eyebrow, her golden eyes deadly, but so very tempting and seductive

You smile at her, squeezing the wrists held in your hand. While stronger than all mortals, Cassandra is quite petite, at least in some places

She allows you to proceed though, her eyes and smile as challenging as yours

“I was just about to help you prepare for your next hunt”, you hum, and relish in her gasp when you tip the sickle slightly, the tip digging harder into her side

You let go of her wrists when you’re sure she won’t just take what she wants again

Instead, she reaches for the bottle of wine

You watch as she easily tips it and presses the rim of it against your lips, and groan as soon the sweet taste of it hits your tongue

Only does more and more come, so much so that you have difficulty swallowing all of it

And as such, it’s not long at all until some of it drips at the sides of your mouth, sliding down your chin

Only is Cassandra’s attention to longer on the bottle

Instead she watches, chest heaving and hips rolling slightly, as droplets of wine drip to your chest, then down to your breasts

A stain in your blouse marks its trail

Her mouth waters

The bottle is removed from you, and you jump when she simply drops it and it smashes on the wooden floor

Then, she’s on you in an instant, like a predator having caught its prey

You groan when her nails tear into your thighs, then the trousers are all but ripped from you

By the look in her eyes, you know it will be a long day and night

Daniela

Often, you tease your girlfriend, make her feel all hot and bothered, a whimpering and flushed mess, her head filled with the dirty thoughts you’ve inspired

Usually, you’re not aware that you’ve teased her

Daniela is just so very- responsive

For example, sometimes she gets almost feral when you simply allow her to sit in your lap, unaware that she’s fully feeling your bulge press against her ass cheeks

When she begins to squirm adorably on top of you, her chest and cheeks flushed, her fingertips brushing against you

Her cute little moans, her skin covered in goosebumps

Or when you simply mean to hug her, yet your hands on her hips make the sensitive woman gasp and squirm closer to you already

And so what if you grope a little? If you think with your cock as some might say, and boldly take what you want

It usually ends the same type of way, with her eyes hazy and wide, her mouth open and moans spilling past her soft lips, a wide smile on her lips

Perhaps, with her plowed into the bed by you, her arms held, the view of her backside nearly enough to make you cum already

Or with her mouth on you, your head thrown back and your hands in her hair

She’s eager and insatiable, eagerly swallowing and taking all you give her, always, at any time

Today is no different than others as it comes to this

She’s sat on your lap as usual, attempting to read one of her books

Only is it proving difficult

Her flushed cheeks and occasional whimpers tell you all you need to know, really

You manspread without thinking, attempting to ease the discomfort between your legs

In turn, she squeaks in surprise, clinging to you in favor of preventing her fall

Only does this mean she’s directly pressed up against your cock, covered merely by the thin layer of your trousers

You groan lowly, setting your hand on her hip

You’re breathing lowly, wondering whether she’ll act

Then, nothing

She hums and settles down again, as though nothing happened

Perhaps today’s one of the days she attempts to act shy and innocent, despite the naughty thoughts swarming her mind

A slight smirk forms at your lips

You want to see just how long she can keep the facade up, or whether you’ll get to take her like this, tearing innocence away from her yet again, just the way the two of you enjoy it

She’s gasping when you move her book from her, and the knowing smile on her lips tells you she knows exactly what game the two of you are about to start

She moves her hand to your neck, but just then you move slightly

It’s not much, nor too fast, but enough for the tip of her sharp, claw-like nail to nip your neck

You hiss and she draws back immediately, yet her eyes only widen, the gold in them merely a small ring within clouds of black

She watches, as though enhanced, as a drop of blood drags from the small wound and down your neck

Immediately, the teasing thing has a reaction on your girlfriend

She bites her lip and whimpers, easily sinking into your touch when you squeeze her hips

Daniela gasps when she’s rocked to you, held tight as she tries so very hard to win this little game of yours

Alas, she doesn’t really stand a chance, not when you grab her by the hair and tug her to your neck

Immediately, moans and the wet slurping sounds of her mouth on your neck follow

She’s whining and groaning, eagerly rocking against your crotch, her fingernails digging into your clothing

A promise, a plead, a wish to be taken

How could you deny her?

[notthecutesttrash]

Grey (Pt. 3/Final)

Warnings: Reader is painfully nice, angst, ultra fluff

Word count: 8k

PART 1, PART 2

At lunch, you sit in your old spot. Your feet dangling above the ground atop the bench while eating the food your mother made yesterday. She didn’t leave you a note this time, seeing how upset you have been these past few days, which is a relief. It was quiet today. No girls to bother you, no one near your favorite large tree that the wind loved to surround. 

Sure you’re relieved that you can finally eat food, relieved that you’re undisturbed, relieved you won’t have any more bruises.. but you aren’t happy. And you’re only able to eat half of your food before you lose your appetite. 

You make sure to avoid everyone if possible. Throughout the scowls, the glances, and the even more hidden whispers, you keep your head low and move quickly to avoid interaction. Especially making sure to ignore a specific Miya twin. It’s not like he would deliberately talk to you now that the project is over, but still, you’d rather not see him at all. 

Practice always arrived promptly. Although you’re doing all right, better than before perhaps, you don’t say much. Lucy looks like she wants to approach you a few times, but you make sure to pack up and exit so fast she’s unable to. Several times you nearly stumble into a set of yellow and grey-haired twins who leave their practice around the same time as you, as unfortunately, the other gym is right across theirs. Fortunately, you manage to quickly scurry away, enough for them not to notice you. 

Atsumu lately is giving you more glances than usual as if he is planning on saying something. So when the bell rings you would rapidly spring out of your seat and run to the bathroom. Closing the stall, you’d sit on the toilet and hold your lunch to your lap, exhaling a relieved sigh. 

You didn’t want to hear any more teasing. Not after that embarrassing display you showed.

It keeps replaying in your head over and over. The way you're pushed to the ground, surrounded by bullies, revealing your terror so promptly. The way Mr. Knight in shining black armor saves the day and makes you feel even worse. 

I don’t need your help. Leave me alone. That phrase echoes in your head. 

Pathetic. You can’t even deal with your problems, instead, Atsumu of all people helped, and worse.. it did something. You aren’t being targeted anymore and that was irritating. If it hadn’t been for him, you wouldn’t be in this stall right now miserably eating your lunch. Food would be in your hair, you’d come home to your mom and dad who’d ask how the day went, and you'd have to keep up the stupid lie of sharing your food. 

Sighing, you pack up the rest of your lunch.

Kiyoko and the women trudge into the area, their hair a little damp, bits of food poking in it. Their heads hang low, and some are snickering at them. 

It seemed the tables had also now turned, and you didn't know why.

You’re confused as you spot Atsumu chuckling, and some part of you is disappointed in him.  

When you’re studying them, they manage to gather a collective scowl at you, and accustomed to the fear you swiftly spin.  

Before everything, you'd eat alone, avoid any interaction, ignore bullying, play, run off, go home, stay in your room all day, do homework, and then go to sleep. It was just as it was, back to normal. No pathetic fangirls, no men, and no motherly teasing. No one spoke to you, everyone (besides Atsumu striving to get your attention) ignored you as you did to them.

Kiyoko might give you a few scowls sure, but did she deserve that? 

It was perfectly justified, just how everyone decided it should be… Right? 

A voice would selfishly reason that it is better than being the one who is repeatedly bullied. You would no longer dread going back to school, no more panic attacks at 4 am, just a plain good night’s sleep. 

But you're not satisfied now.

It's just wrong.. all wrong.

When class ends, you encounter eyes with Atsumu.. then you do the unthinkable. 

You start fixating as Kiyoko's aggressively packs her bags before going home. She’s too drowsy to even force a glare yet still has a hard hatred in her eyes when fixated. “Uh… hey, Kiyoko.”

“What?” 

Atsumu is confused, and he’s frozen beside the door as he watches the exchange. You’re shyly fidgeting with your fingers and she scowls at you. 

You mutter to not be heard by a certain someone. “Are you… okay?” 

Kiyoko’s eyes widen, but It sharply settles to a glower that feels similar to Atsumu before he had told her off. 

“Like you care.” She shoves past you, bumping your shoulder, and stomps out the room. It’s a silent pitiful pause before you start to do the same and Atsumu calls out to you.

“(Y/n) wait-“ 

He blocks the doorway, and you stand, crossing your arms. You have a cold expression, and you're glaring angrily. “What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention.” He looks pathetically desperate, and you grunt.

“No. I mean, what are you doing?” You firmly repeat, and he's visibly lost and doesn’t understand.

“Are you bullying Kiyoko?” He’s taken aback at your words, shocked. He doesn’t respond, he’s not sure how to when the answer is around the lines of, "yes- but not in that way."

A pin drop can be heard in the heaviness. You gather every bit of courage and force your way out, declaring something that makes him still. 

“You’re such a jerk.” 

Atsumu is accustomed to these words. Osamu, his team members, women, friends and, so on would say similar phrases along these lines. It shouldn’t have hurt, but when you did, there was a pang in his chest like none other. 

This time when you rushed out of practice today, you saw Atsumu waiting outside. 

“(Y/n) lis-“ You spin on your heel the opposite way and rush off. He sighs, slumping disappointedly. He fixates on your retreating form, a twitch prodding his lips into a small inevitable frown. 

Osamu elbows him hard in the side, forcing him out of his trance and causing him to grumble.

“Talk to her.”  

His shoulders fall as he watches your even farther form. You’re clutching your bag desperately tight, and your speed walking like you’re politely running away. 

“Yea, easy for you to say. She doesn’t want to be talked to.” 

“And how do you know?” 

“Hm, I dunno, maybe her saying the words “leave me alone.” or you’re such a jerk.” 

Rintaro joins the conversation as he walks out of the gym. “She’s a girl. All of them do that. In reality, that’s code for “give me attention.” Because if you don’t they’ll just get even more mad.” 

Shinsuke follows after, stoically blinking. “Were you talking with her normally before?”

“I mean.. a little.. yeah.”

“So did you do anything impolite to make her not want to talk to you?”

Atsumu’s expression falters, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Well..” 

“He made her cry, twice.” Osamu chips in, and Atsumu elbows him hard, his expression changing into a glare. 

“Huh, maybe she does want you to leave her alone then,” Rintaro says.

He quickly slumps in defeat. “Yeah… I’ve been.. a bit of a jerk.” 

The team side eyes each other. “A bit?” 

“There's a possibility it can all be fixed by communication. Go apologize and talk about it,” Shinsuke says simply. Atsumi groans aloud, face planting. 

“What if she hates me now Samu?” 

“I was just trying to help.”

“Do you think I really am mean?”

“Do I deserve redemption?” 

Osamu’s eye twitches at the tenth whine and nearly decks his brother in the face when they arrive home. 

When you open the door to yours, you look miserable. 

“Are you okay?” Your mother asks, and you let out an exhausted breath. 

“Yeah.” Slipping your shoes off, you leave the rest of your lunch on the table and rush to go upstairs. Your mother is frowning once she opens the bento, finding the food only half eaten. It was just like before when there was no project, no bullies, and no boy. 

Cuddling your blankets you turn on the TV to watch whatever. You remain like that for a few minutes before a gentle buzz vibrates the bed. Pulling it to your sight, you see 

Miya Atsumu: “Can we talk?” 

You huff and throw the phone away from you. What did he possibly have to talk about to have the nerve to text you? 

The worst part is you didn’t even hate him for it, and you despised that you didn’t.

Maybe if you were a vengeful person, you’d be at peace now. You should just be happy that Kiyoko and the others are getting a taste of their own medicine. But you aren't. You’re not happy, it doesn’t make you proud, It makes you sad.

Frankly, you just want nothing happening at all. You’re okay with a boring life, no one speaking to you, no one being bullied, eating lunch, going to practice, coming home, eating dinner, and going to sleep. That’s it, that’s all you needed and you’d be happy.

But would you though? 

All you can think about is the warm sputter of butterflies in your stomach when he brushed up against your leg at that desk last Friday. The way he so genuinely smiled and how it made your heart bloom. He’s so different when it’s with you alone, so how could he be so cruel? 

At dinner time, you’re quiet and your parents send a few glimpses to another. There is a dull ache in your chest as you eat, and you can’t help but remember how your mom giggled when Atsumu was at the table. It’s a direct comparison to the painful silence right now. Your dad is reading the paper, your mom is awkwardly eating, and you’re pressing your hand against your cheek while shoving small forceful bits of food into your mouth. 

“So..” your dad starts and you’re already dreading this. 

“Anything new happening lately?” Your mom gives him a certain look as if saying are you sure you want to go into that? 

“No.” 

“How was the project?” 

You shrug. “It was fine.” 

“You’re no longer talking to that boy?” Your dad hesitantly asks. Your mom clears her throat when you go silent. 

Your tone is frustrated and drawn out as you battle with your patience. “It was just a project Dad. We did our work and now it’s done, it’s been done since Tuesday.”

He slowly nods and looks at your mom again. 

“Well..” she starts and you don’t know where it’s going but you give her a fed-up look. “Do you like him?” 

You go silent again and you’re no longer eating, just playing with your food. There's a mixture of both disgust and affirmation to that question.

“No..” 

They share a look. “Okay.”

“But..”

You sigh when it still keeps going.

“If you do… maybe you should talk to him.” 

They don’t know the full story. All they know is a man you might like gets assigned to be your partner and sparks fly. They don’t know your mixed emotions.

They don’t know how he made you cry twice. The first from him practically calling you a loser and laughing in your face. The second, him seeing the embarrassing display of being bullied by his own fangirls, and worse, saving you from it. They don’t know the evil side of him when he is returning the favor to them right after.

“Yeah.. I guess.” You take a small unenthused bite of food, then stand, signaling that you’re done talking. 

A buzz vibrates your phone, and you’re washing the dishes, ignoring the sound. You know who it is. 

“Is that Atsumu?” Your mother chirps in, also just happening to know. It rumbles again and you sigh. 

You want to say it was another friend or Lucy, but that would be a fat lie. No one texts you, you have no friends. Lucy didn’t even have your number, she was just a nice teammate. Your parents have been trying not to pester you about it, but now and then they would imply something along the lines of getting together or inviting a certain someone for dinner. 

They didn’t know what was happening, they had zero rights. 

Your curiosity gets the better of you. Subconsciously you pull it to your view and you see 2 notifications belonging to the name of Miya Atsumu. 

Miya Atsumu: “Can I just explain?” 

Miya Atsumu: “Please?” 

Why did he want to talk to you so badly? You just can't understand it. Did he care about you or something? No. That’s out of the question. 

For the first time you’re instinctively typing an angry response, forgetting that he can see the bubbles on his end. Crap. You delete it quickly and your heart stammers when you see an immediate text forming from him. A minute passes of nothing and you exhale a breath of relief, maybe he didn’t see and was caught up in his own text. Or he respected your lack of answer, which you doubted, but you’re glad you don’t see another. 

Why did you still have his number in your phone anyway? The project was over, he isn't going to keep talking to you after he's bored. Just because he hasn’t been mean to you for those few days during the project didn't mean he suddenly changed.

A sting in your heart rejects that notion, remembering again the feeling of your heart when you both share a laugh and work beside each other. Whenever his eyes would twinkle at you so sweetly like he actually cared. 

You should hate his stupid smug face, the way it looks at you, the way his eyes glimmer. You should hate him, and Kiyoko, and Angie, and Osamu, and.. and.. ugh. You’re practically scrubbing a plate down to the bone before your mother plucks it out of your hand. 

“I think it’s clean now.” You’re groaning, jaw clenched so tightly you’re sure you’re going to snap something. 

“Why don’t you just go upstairs, for now, I’ll finish the rest.” She says, grabbing the sponge out of your hands. 

You breathe what feels like steam. “Fine.” 

Over the next few days Atsumu is still desperately trying to get your attention. Practically doing anything in his power to make sure the stars align to speak to you. But you’re quicker. 

Whenever you see that yellow hair you make sure to run far, bolting at the slightest resemblance. You never even manage to get to your locker before he’s in the hallway, so you’re forced to carry obnoxious books while you sprint off. Besides, even if the fangirls were told off, you’re sure they would do something once they see you speaking with him again. And it's not like you’d tell him either if something did. They can easily threaten you, and force you to meet up outside of school so you can get thrashed around.

Today he’s nowhere in sight and you’re finally releasing the pounds of weight off your arms. 

“Hey.” A familiar stern voice shakes you to your core, and you slowly stand around to get a view of the person.

Osamu, thank god. 

“Hi..?” You awkwardly press your back against the locker, staring at the calm features that replicate Atsumu. He looked much different, and his features are more relaxed.

“You’re (Y/n) right?” He asks.

You’d think he'd remember that after the time his brother made you run off with tears. 

“Yeah..” you trail off, unable to meet his eye while you grip the strap of your bag tightly.

“Hm.” He pauses randomly, studying you, and you’re shuffling your legs nervously. 

Finally, he speaks. “Do me a favor, tell Sumu off so he can finally stop bothering me.” You furrow confusedly. 

“What?” 

“He won’t shut up about you, I’ve been hearing it for weeks now," he groans. You’re eyes widen. You can't believe him, but he looks terribly annoyed just thinking about it that it makes it seem truthful. 

“What? Weeks?” That didn’t make sense. 

“Or get together already, I don’t care.” He sighs tiredly, like fed up with the world. 

You huff, “All he cares about is bullying,” under your breath. 

He shrugs, “He can't pull that off, he's too focused on whining like a baby trying to get your attention.”  

If Atsumu was here, surely he’d be arguing with his brother, exclaiming, “That’s not true!” But you’re ogling at the imaginary scene, unable to even picture that. 

You awkwardly say an "okay.." mainly to end the conversation.

He lets out a sigh, the only thing his mind can go to as he walks off is food. “I’m hungry.” 

He’s gone before you could even respond, and you’re standing there, completely dazed. What even just happened?

It’s cold outside, it's the weekend luckily, and you’re bumping your volleyball at home to the wall, practicing your receives. No texts were received today which was nice. You knew he’d get bored. He’s fed up and the chain of command continues. You're free while others take your stead.

Guilt aches in your chest from that thought. 

“Dinners almost ready (Y/n)!” Your mom calls out, and you pant into the wispy air. Setting the volleyball down, you take off your outside shoes and slide the door behind you. It’s warm, and your dry hands clasp together, receiving the heat. Your moms about to serve the food, and you stand at the bottom of the stairs. 

“I’m going to get my gloves for outside.” 

She nods and you rush up. Where were they? You haven’t used them since last winter. You search in your closet, crouching to see if you can find the labeled bin. Hands digging deep into the space, you’re so concentrated on trying to find the mitts that you don’t even hear the knocking on the door. 

You do hear small mutterings of your mother down the stairs, but can’t make it out too well. You shrug, assuming she was just talking to your father anyway. 

“Oh my- yes yes, of course, come in. You must be freezing, poor dear.” 

Ah! There they are! Stuffed in between your summer shorts and sandals. Guess you must’ve disorganized them along the way. 

“Got them!” You walk downstairs with your head down, holding the mitts in your hand. You turn to set them on the table and cease the movement, eyes widened in shock. Your heart nearly leaps to your tight throat, and your stomach is anxiously swarming.

“What’s he doing here?” You look to your mom who just allowed your worst nightmare to come in. He’s panting, looking at you with determined eyes, his brows furrowed and his expression serious. 

“Don’t be rude (Y/n). He came to see you. You don’t expect me to leave him out there in the cold do you?” She waves you off and walks to the kitchen to leave you two peering at another. You’re about to turn away to run back up the stairs, and he shouts out, “Wait!” You stop in your tracks, pursing your lips, eyes shut. 

“Can we just talk.. please?” Your fingers are holding onto the railing, your right foot at the first step. Don’t look, don’t listen, just leave. 

You turn around to face him, and his eyes widen a little. You turn to your mother who is making herself busy, and you gesture your head up the stairs. Were you really going to do this again? Why? Why are you doing this? Why aren’t you sending him out, shoving him away, and saying leave me alone?

He nods quickly and follows. Once the door closes you whip around to him, crossing your arms firmly. “Why are you here?” 

You’re taken aback at his exhaustion, he’s panting, and his blonde hair is a little disheveled. He’s a mess, and you’re confused, he’s always so well put together with that plastered smirk that said “I’m better at everyone at everything, and I know it.” 

You bite your lip, some guilt settling in your chest as you wait for him to catch his breath. 

Eventually, he brushes his hair to the side, breathing deeply and fixating calmly on you. “Listen, I know you don’t want to talk to me. I know you don’t like me.. for good reasons.” You remain quiet, nodding to his words. He thinks a second before speaking again. 

"But I didn't hurt Kiyoko or anyone else." You squint your eyes and he stumbles over his words. "Maybe I indirectly started it after I called her some mean things, but I wasn't the one who did that, like they did to you." You're humming as you think. You aren't sure if that pleases you.

He suddenly gestures low for a bow and you flinch a little at the fast movement. “I’m sorry for being a jerk. I'll do better, i'll make it up to you I promise.” You’re shocked at this change of heart and he continues, sputtering a little.

“I hope you can forgive me, it doesn’t have to be now.. just someday.. and I'll do whatever it takes to regain your trust, and if you still decide that I am not worthy of it in the end.. " He pauses. "That’s okay.. I’ll understand.” 

You don’t even know what to say, but those are the last words you expected. He really felt.. sorry? Was that even possible? No that wasn’t right, this must be a ploy. Frankly, you don't get why he wants your trust so badly in the first place, but you’re kind of flattered. 

Though.. Atsumu wouldn't lie would he? He’s hardly the type to even feel guilty over tears, he’d never stoop so low to beg for forgiveness if he didn’t want to. He is a jerk and he even admitted that, but he can’t be serious, can he?  

Standing straight again, his serious expression alone proves you as wrong as can be, and he’s desperately scanning your expression, looking for any possible emotion. You quietly turn your head to the side, mind still mulling over the current scene.

When he recognizes the absence of words, he bows again, this time politely. “That’s.. all I wanted to say, I will leave now.” He turns his back to you, signaling his movement. The door opens and he’s about to step out, and you have a voice that’s screaming at you to stop him before it’s too late. 

“Wait.”

He stops and looks at you expectantly, and you inhale deep. You shouldn’t be saying this, but you are. 

“Apologize to Kiyoko too.” He grimaces like you just uttered the most foul words in existence. 

He breaks out with a, “Huh?” 

“Apologize to her, and the other girls.” 

Again, he repeats even louder. “What?” 

You press your hands against your waist, frustrated he isn't understanding. 

“Apolo-“ 

“No, I heard you.” He presses a hand to his forehead and sighs.

"Why?" He asks, and you breathe deep.

"Because.. even if they started it.. I know how it feels, and I never want anyone to go through that."

It wasn’t exactly what he expected when he said he’d do anything for your trust, but he'd still do it for your sake. Although he might not agree with the choice, he can understand the need to have peace in your mind.

“Promise.” Your tone is firm and you’re pointing at him with your pinky. “Promise you’ll do it and be nice." You don’t even know why you expect him to agree and follow through, but you oddly trusted him.

The idea of apologizing to those girls of all people makes him grumble under his breath. He presses his pinky into yours and locks it, his voice filled with reluctance, “Yeah, I promise.” 

“Good.” You nod, and when it gets silent again you clear your throat. "So.. do you want to stay for dinner?"

He gently laughs and shoves back the idea of what he'd have to do later.

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiles genuinely and you nod.

Dinner is only awkward for a few seconds until your mother begins speaking to Atsumu. They laugh amongst each other and a small tug pries your lips.

The conversation stops as the front door opens and closes. Your father walks in and your mother claps her hands in excitement. He makes eye contact with Atsumu and they greet one another very politely. You’re suddenly anxious as your dad takes a seat beside you. He has a firm expression and presence, but it eases into pleasantness as holds his hand out to Atsumu.

“Atsumu right? I heard a lot about you, nice to meet you.” Atsumu shakes his hand and glimpses your way.

“Heard a lot about me?”

You know what he’s thinking and you turn a small shade of pink, glaring at your mom whose stifling a laugh. Your dad joins in the laughter, even Atsumu, and you’re beet red. You aren’t the one always talking about him.  

“We’re just teasing (Y/n).” Your mom waves and you huff, forcing more food into your mouth. 

“So tell me Atsumu, what’s your favorite food?” Your mom asks for no particular reason and you cough. 

“Anything you make for (Y/n) is enough to keep me happy.” He responds pleasantly and your mom presses a hand to her chest. 

“What a charmer.”

You're planning on rolling your eyes when you look at him. But you're surprised the way he seems so genuine. Most cases he is confident and smug, but the way he grins so happily right now shows you that you're wrong.

You avert from the scene and you can see him gazing at you longingly in your peripheral. Your cheeks dust pink.

The room gradually cascades with laughter, and your stomach flutters whenever he makes your parents laugh. 

When it’s time for him to go, he politely thanks them for the meal and says his farewell. They let you walk him out. He steps outside and you’re fidgeting a little with your fingers. “Um so.. I’ll see you..” 

He beams and rotates. “Yeah. Cya (Y/n)”  

“Don’t forget the promise!!” You call out and even if it makes him sigh, he answers “I won’t.” 

You close the door, walk to your room, and lay in the bed. Gazing at the ceiling you think of the scene that just transpired. Shoving your face into the pillow, a loud squeal escapes, and your legs dangle like a schoolgirl. 

You did it. You actually fell for the jerk Miya Atsumu. 

When it's Monday, you're nervous yet excited to finally get the peace you so crave and to prove to your heart that he is a good person.

He's dreading when he glances to Kiyoko. She’s visibly scared in her seat as he approaches her. "Hey." He starts, a little too aggressively right off the bat. You clear your throat, signaling him to be aware.

Exhaling a sigh, he presses his hand behind his neck. "Come on, you guys too." They all stand and jitter nervously, and you tail behind them.

They look like kicked puppies, and in a way it almost makes you feel pitiful.

He walks to the same terrible corridor you had frequented for those dreadful days. You remember the way they would dump food on you and kick you, yet even if it slightly hurt to witness what you're forcing him to do when.. you know it'll be worth it in the end. Finally he stops, and you do the same. Atsumu shuffles uncomfortably, like unsure he was going to get this far. They look freaked out and tense as planks while waiting.

He grits his teeth and sucks in every little bit of pride he has. "I'm sorry." Everyone blanks at the tone. It was a bit forced, but you suppose it had to do.

They're confused, unsure if this was some trick before you appear at his side and elbow him lightly. He's peering at you with a look that says “I have to say more?"

Grumbling and huffing, he continues, “sorry for treating you the way I did. I won’t do it again.” The apology comes out so eerily even they cringe. That was harder to force out than anything he’s said in his life, and that said a lot.

His eyes zone in on Kyoko mainly. She's bewildered and you wriggle awkwardly. The tension is worse than when you were forced to work with him on the project the first day. It's quiet and you touch his arm, forcing him to look at you with a certain gaze. You signal for him to leave them alone.

"Lets go."

He exhales a sigh, and his hand presses against your shoulder. Even in this weird scene you're blushing at the action. The girls are staring at you like deers in headlights, their mouths agape, slack jawed and stuck. The struggle to not send them a threat shooting down their spines had him walking away a lot faster than you would've thought and he's gone before you know it.

You awkwardly walk pass the group whose heads follow you like dolls. "Atsumu!" You call out, sprinting and panting down the halls.

He's grumbling to himself, speaking nonsensically and because of the height difference, his steps are like twice of yours. "Wait up!" He finally pauses, and turns to you surprised when he sees you holding your hands to your knees, exhausted.

He wants to be annoyed at you, but its hard to frankly, and when you're done heaving, you press your hand to him. He twitches a little and you look to him with wide twinkling orbs. "Thank you for doing that."

He blinks at you and pulls back nervously, a stammer in his chest. "Y-Yea.. no problem."

Suddenly every bit of him is glad it worked out this way.

As the days pass, you've been gradually getting more comfortable with him. You've been exchanging bentos, teasing another, sharing advice about volleyball(mainly on his side), and walking each other to practice. And Kiyoko wasn't sending you glares that much anymore which was nice.

You’re packing up your things as slowly as usual, and Sumu is stretching, complaining. “We’re gonna be late for practicee (Y/n).”

 “Then goo.” 

Atsumu huffs, stuffing his hands in his pockets. You catch a side glance of Kiyoko who is still in class, feigning patience as she anxiously looks towards you and back. It could just be your imagination, but it looks like she might want to say something.

You angle your head toward her subtlety and he understands, fixating on the sight. She jolts at just the glimpse and is finding things to touch and direct her attention to. He gives you an annoyed look and you shoo him away.

If it wasn’t for appeasing you on this promise, he probably would be giving her hell right now you're sure. You pat him on the shoulder, practically begging with your eyes, and he nearly rolls his. Exhaling in defeat he points to the door.

“I’ll be outside.”

It’s a weird tension when he’s gone. You should've been timid and scared but you're not. Perhaps it’s because of Mr. fussy outside, or maybe because you just feel better about the situation and you're ready to hear what she has to say.

She walks to you very slowly and keeps her lips separated as she thinks. “So… um..” 

“I did a lot of bad things to you..” She’s biting her lip and she speaks vaguely, either too ashamed or hesitant to confront you. You purse your lips when it gets silent, beginning to writhe at the heaviness.

“Your mom’s cooking really wasn’t that bad, I just.. wanted to be mean.. among other things..” She trails her words like there's more. Her voice gets real low, but you hear it, and she says "Sorry.."

It's a small pause before she continues, “I’d.. um.. probably be getting the same treatment.. if.. um..” she’s clearly struggling to elaborate, for fear perhaps it’d be too pitiful or embarrassing.

Her voice gets lower and she’s fixated on the corner of the room. 

“I appreciate it.. Thanks..” 

You awkwardly respond with a nod.

She mimics that motion, then grabs her things and timidly sprints off. Surely she met Atsumu on the way out, and hopefully, nothing is said between the two. A small contempt smile is on your face. You're happy.

Before you can even finish walking out the door hands instantly meet your shoulders. You’re abruptly whirled around to meet Atsumu who is filled with concern. 

“Did she do anything?” His hands touch your chin, moving it directly yet gently to the left, then to the right, up, and down. He's carefully examining the way your strands are positioned to see if it differed from when he left, if there's a crinkle in your clothes, if your skin is touched, anything he could possibly notice. 

You playfully slap his fingers away. “I’m fine Sumu, nothing happened. We just talked.” 

His eyes raise, and he doesn't look like he believes you. “You just talked?” You nod shyly.  

“About what?” He’s trying to hide the small irritation in his voice but you can tell it’s just slightly there. You supposed it was reasonable though. 

You want to tell him, but for the sake of her privacy (and pride mainly) you say “… Girl things.” 

He still doesn’t seem to believe you but he hums anyway. “Nothin' bad?” You hold your pinky out to him. 

“Promise.” 

You two would then stroll to the gymnasiums, and Lucy would greet the both of you before you'd separate and begin conversing. Then when practice would finish you found that you had been bolting out the door much faster than anyone and shouting, “Bye! See you tomorrow!” 

You'd rush to meet with the twins who usually were just beginning to walk out. Atsumu would grin at you, and you’d blush as you talk to him, pushing stray hair behind your ear. He walked you home like usual, sometimes even greeting your mother who will try to (always) invite him to dinner.

He might make some excuse and say he’s busy, or.. secretly your favorite, when he decides to stay and sometimes even hang out with you in your room to do homework together. But nothing else came of it, just homework. You enjoyed the time together when he and you would sit very close, quietly writing, reveling in the peace. 

Luckily today was one of those days. 

Atsumu likes concentration, he is oddly very silent and focused when he works. The only time he would get a little annoyed is when there were unnecessary sounds, like pens clicking too much or chatter. You understood that, so it’s easy for you two to work together.

Yet even when you two are starting at the same time, he manages to do it very quickly once he gets himself in the moment. This skill he had made it so that he was always done first, and from there he would typically head off since it’d always be like 8 or so. That always made your heart drop a little. 

This time though, he sits on your bed and yawns. You blink at him confused, and he gestures you over. “Let’s watch a movie.” Your heart thumps at the idea, but you remember there's still work sitting on your desk. 

“I still have a bit more to do..”  

“It’s Friday, I’m confident you can get it done before Monday.” He teases and you avert your attention to the worksheets left. It wasn’t that much, that’s true. You could just do it tomorrow. 

He’s a bit more gentle with his tone when he speaks. “I’ll make it up to you if you don’t get it done, promise.” 

“Okay..” 

You sit near him but not too near. You're unsure if he wants you close in this case. You never actually sat next to him without being in chairs. It was kind of strange.

Your stomach is blooming with nervous butterflies again, and your heart is racing at the idea of just being on the bed with him. Atsumu grabs the remote and pulls you out of your daze. 

“Any picks?” 

“Um... maybe a comedy?” He’s a little taken aback by that choice but then shrugs, a casual smirk returning. 

“Comedy it is.” 

He picks a random movie, and settles into his spot comfortably. On the other hand, you’re tense in yours, and perhaps a foot or so away from him.

“What are you so nervous lookin' about?" Sumu nudges.

“You’re not gonna bite me?” You joke, and he laughs, easing your anxiety quickly. You make an excuse to shuffle a little closer to him as you move into “comfort” as well. 

“Unless you want me to. No," he says jokingly. You quiet, a blush forming. Just like how you sit beside another in the chairs, your knee is nearly touching his, but without a sort of barrier.. this feels almost closer. 

The movie starts and you side-eye him, watching as his attention is on the TV. You look away and attempt to mimic. He does the same once you focus ahead, examining you for more than a few before averting. The movie is quick to make you both snicker in your seats. Still, for almost half an hour, you’re struggling to pay attention, you’re just so focused on how he feels next to you. Safe and.. warm. 

He leans in a little closer. You fail to notice and yawn. He blinks down at you, moving back. “Tired?” 

You mumble “A little bit.” 

“Want me to pause it for now?” He waits for your answer and your lips purse. If you say yes he might leave, you can’t waste this moment on tiredness. He’s right, it’s Saturday tomorrow, you can relax all you want then. 

“(Y/n).” He calls and you’re still lost in thought. 

Suddenly his fingers gently turn your chin, and when you blink back to reality, he’s very close to you. He’s so pretty too.

After a second or two you instantly pull back. “Oh, sorry, yes… you can do that.” He nods and pauses it. For some reason, his expression is a little defeated, but you're not sure why. He stands up and you know where this is going.

“It’s getting late, so.. time for me to go home.” He fakes a stretch and you nod. 

“I’ll walk you out.” 

Before he leaves you call out to him. “Hey..”

“Let’s finish that movie okay?” 

He smiles at that. 

Over the next few weeks, the same still repeated. You hung out a little more, but it was nothing too different, just small closeness and intimate lunch moments for 30 minutes. Though lately you find yourself confused and saddened when he refuses to come in. He’s politely said no to your mother nearly all of the time now. 

“Does he like me, Mom? What do you think? Why won’t he come in?” You anxiously groan, pressing your hands to your face at the 20th imaginary scenario that plays. 

“I’m sure he does sweetie, I just think he needs some time to think about it.” She’s washing the dishes while you groan. 

“Think about if he likes me? If he has to think about it, doesn’t that mean he doesn’t?” 

“No, that doesn’t mean that.” 

“Then what does it mean?” 

She sighs a little. 

Before you were always quiet about the details, embarrassed even, but now you are so frustrated and scared you just won’t stop talking. 

Did you do something wrong? No, you still ate lunch together most of the day. He still walked with you after volleyball, (even if occasionally he’s been making more excuses). So what was it? 

Atsumu was more than a little disappointed after that day at your house. He finally made a move, and you were not the slightest bit interested. After all that time together he thought maybe you’d reciprocate, at least a tiny bit. You might’ve still thought of him as a bully which was a sucky thought, even if fair. 

He loses focus in practice today, setting a little too high, a little too low, serving into the net, and sometimes missing completely. That was completely new for him, and he had to say, it blew more than he thought. 

“Hey,” Osamu points at him. "You set way too high there this time. One more mess up and you owe me."

Atsumu groans loudly.

“Why are you so mopey lately?” Michinari asks.

“He thinks he blew it with his crush,” Osamu answers and his twin nearly kicks him in his side. Shinsuke walks behind them, and the aura alone is enough to make them stop fighting. 

Hitoshi gasps as if Atsumu being in love is so uncharacteristic. “You have a crush?!” 

Rintaro rolls his eyes. “Just talk to her.” 

Aran pats the setter’s shoulder. “Just proclaim your love man, it’s a whole lot better than overthinking.” 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Shinsuke asks, completely oblivious. “If she doesn’t like you, then it just means you can move on and not have to worry about it anymore.” Although painfully realistic, it strikes something in Atsumu.

His expression shifts and he nods firmly. If you declare you don’t like him, then the ache in his chest will move on and he won’t have to deal with this anxiety anymore. 

This was it then, this was going to be the day he asked you. 

Practice runs a little later than usual and he makes sure to run out as fast as possible to see you walking kind of mopey. “Hey, (Y/n)!” Atsumu calls to you, making you rotate. 

Your eyes instantly lighten, and you grin. “Sumu!” 

He returns the smile. “Practice good?” He asks. 

“It was good! It was good. I’d say I can teach you some things now.” You lightly jab, poking him.

He scoffs, “Once you finally receive my serve, I’ll think about it.”

His hand mockingly pats your head to measure the height difference, and you pout, face a little pink. The rest of the walk is filled with both of you play-fighting with each other and teasing until you reach your house. 

You’re silent, shuffling as to delay the inevitable.

“So.. do you want to come in..?” You ask, a hopeful trail at the end of your word. You’re sure he’s going to say no. 

“Yup, I can do that today.” 

“That’s o- wait-“ you gasp, “really?!” 

He smiles, enamored at your excitement. 

“I’m free all night.” 

Butterflies are shooting, and you’re secretly hopping as you open the door.

“Welcome ho- oh! Atsumu! It’s been so long, how are you?” Your mother greets. 

“Evening miss (L/n), just been busy is all.” Atsumu is politely smiling and you dazzle.  

“It happens. Dinner isn’t ready, so you guys can do your work and I’ll call you after.”  

You nod, and he does the same before you bolt off to your room. 

His heart is probably stammering faster than yours now.

“Want to finish that movie?” You ask gleefully. 

He chuckles and answers, "really? No workin' today?"

Seeing it as a rejection, you can’t help but slump in defeat, instantaneously frowning. The scene breaks his heart a little and he rushes to respond with better words before you cut him off.

“No- we can, I just thought- maybe- well.. yeah- never mind. After though?” You’re staring at him with big eyes, and he is smiling sweetly again.

“Unless you have to go after, which is fine, that’s okay.” He shuts you up by placing his hand on your arm, and you blink up at him through your lashes so prettily it makes him hold his breath. 

“Yes, that’s fine.” 

Quickly nodding, you impatiently sit down at your desk and gesture for him to do the same. 

“Listen (Y/n)..” Atsumu has a tone in his voice that sounds serious, maybe scared, and you turn, pursing your lips. A sudden nervousness washes over you. 

“Yeah..?” 

When he sees your sad expression he zips his lips. “Nothing, never mind.” 

“Okay..” you say, unconvinced. He takes a seat next to you, and a blush dusts your cheeks. You really miss this.

Eventually, it becomes comfortable again, and you're pointing to your phrases and looking to him for advice. Truthfully it was sort of an excuse to keep talking to him before he might leave in a few. "Is this good?" You ask.

"Yup." He'd say, and then purposely you'll talk about grammar or other subjects to get him going. But today he wasn't really responsive, he looked tense and felt strange. He was fidgeting, which is never much his thing, and half the time he wasn't working. When you turn to him, his eyes are always lost in thought, contemplating blankly while his pen is unmoving.

You'd occasionally ask, "Are.. you okay Sumu..?"

"Hm? Oh, yea, I'm good." He'd shake himself out of the strange fixation and get back to work like nothing happened.

Your heart falls a little. Maybe he just doesn't want to hang out with you.

"Um.. listen.. (Y/n)." He finally turns to you after a long hour of silence. His tone is more serious again, and you're terrified he's going to say what you hope to not be true. You wait for him to talk, but your patience is thinning as he opens his mouth, closes it, opens, and closes, and you spit out, "Do you want to leave?"

"Wha- no no, it's um.." He clears his throat and he presses his hands together.

"I.. like you (Y/n)."

It takes a second or two before the words sink in, and you're frozen. What?

As in platonic right? Or..

He’s desperately searching for your reaction, waiting to see either reciprocation or disgust. Your mind is rushing for what to think but it's empty. His stomach starts to drop when he doesn’t receive a reply, and he assumes that means denial. His body sinks and the disappointment is clear in his face. 

The silence is disturbed by a shaky inhale. You ask, “What… do you mean?”

Atsumu opens his mouth to speak but keeps it slightly agape, his gaze glued to you. 

“Like.. love, (Y/n). I love you.” 

He's aching to see any clear expression again and your eyes widen in surprise. You feel weightless, there's an explosion in your head and you're unable to think.

"I.." he's holding his breath as you sputter nervously.

"I um.." he's nodding, biting his lower lip and waiting impatiently.

"I.. love you too.."

He's now mimicking your past emotions, and it goes quiet.

You start, "So.. does that mean..um.." you're mumbling now, too anxious to finish the question.

"You'll be my girlfriend?" He asks, and you twinkle up at him. His eyes look so vibrant even in the dim lighting, and his hair falls a little at his face. You move to shyly brush it back, pushing closer to him.

He takes this as a move, and suddenly his lips are pressed into yours. You're frozen for a moment but ease into it quickly. It's like fireworks went off in your brain, and you answer a breathless "Yes," as he pulls away.

“I’m glad..” Atsumu finally lets out a small laugh, and you share in it, your face a fuming pink.

"Do you.. want to finish that movie now?" You shyly ask, and he nods, grinning.

Your bodies are huddled close to each other, his arm wrapped around you. You're leaning into the warmth as the light from the TV flickers. A lingering smile is shared and you turn to him. Your eyes meet and you're already instinctively moving. A kiss is shared again, this time longer and deeper. Your breath hitches when it ends, but you're smiling, and so is he. Hearts softly thumping against one another.

This is finally the peace you wanted.

[were-all-idjits-here]

Accidental "I Love You"

Pairing: Sam Winchester x gender neutral reader Summary: While enlisting Sam's help to prank Dean, you may or may not blurt something out in the moment that seems to strike an unexpected chord with Sam. Warnings: some cussing; teeny, tiny bit of angst in that Sam and reader are two idiots who don't realize the other is in love with them. A/N: dipping my toe back into writing after some time off with this one. Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

*

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam growled as the three of you returned to the motel room. He gestured for you to enter in front of him before slamming the door behind him and holding his hands out in a what the fuck gesture.

“Yeah, seriously,” you grumbled, taking your backpack—now full of loose Skittles thanks to the elder Winchester—towards one of the two beds in the room. “I don’t even like Skittles.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Dean said, just as irritated. “Look, I thought it was Sam’s backpack. It’s not my fault you two have the same one!”

You set your backpack down on Dean’s bed. “Mine’s blue!”

“Navy blue!” Dean corrected. “Sam’s is black, it looks…almost…the same.”

“No, it doesn’t!” you and Sam cry in unison. Although you were no stranger to watching the brothers’ prank war, they’d never targeted you. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t really a big deal; it wasn’t as if it was hot enough to melt the candy and create a sticky mess. But after that particular hunt, you just weren’t in the mood and appreciated Sam’s rage on your behalf.

Dean sighed. “Well, Y/N—I’m sorry. I was aiming for Sam and promise I’ll be more careful next time.”

You flopped down on the bed you and Sam had claimed. “Least you could do is buy us some grub.”

“If I go to that sandwich shop in town and get you a five-cheese grilled cheese, am I forgiven?”

“Only if you get the artichoke dip with it.”

“You got it. Sammy, I’ll get you…something much more boring, don’t worry.” With that, he fled from the room.

You sighed as the Impala’s engine growled to life outside, exchanging annoyed, drained glances with Sam as he sat down at the small, round table in the corner.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he said. “I can help you clean your bag out—”

“Nah.”  You stood and took the offending object from Dean’s bed. “Now that he’s gone, I’ve got a better idea.”  You ripped back the comforter (if it could be called that) off the bed before shoving back the top and fitted sheet, unzipping your backpack and upending it onto the mattress.

Sam laughed so hard, he scared you. You glanced over at him, smiling mischievously as you used your hands to spread the candy out more evenly.

“Well, here, at least get it across the whole bed in case he rolls.” Sam shot up out of his chair and tore the rest of the blankets and sheets off the mattress, helping you pour more Skittles until a fair amount covered the whole mattress.

You groaned as the two of you put the fitted sheet back on carefully over the minefield that was now Dean’s bed. “Oh god, the poor cleaning lady.”

Sam chuckled. “We’ve left behind worse messes, believe me—oh, actually…”

As you finished re-making the bed, Sam ran over to his backpack on the table and pulled out a whoopie cushion. He gave you a wicked grin as he grabbed the pillow off the side Dean usually slept on, stuffing it into the bottom of the case.

You cackled. “That’ll be right in his ear! He’s gonna go deaf!”

“Exactly.” Sam gave you a big, toothy grin and you couldn’t help but stare. He had such a nice smile that was so rarely on display, and you took pride in being one of the few to draw it out of him.

He stared back for a long moment before clearing his throat and putting his hands in his pockets. “You know this is gonna initiate you into the prank war now though, right? Dean won’t hold back.”

“Oh, I look forward to it.” You held out your hand across the bed. “We could be allies though and not tell Dean, really mess with his head. Truce?”

Sam smiled and shook your hand. “Truce.” He glanced back down at the bed. “You don’t happen to have any glue, do you?”

“Oh god, for what?”

He shrugged. “Could glue some Skittles to his stuff.” He joined you on your side of the bed to riffle through his duffle bag on the floor behind you. “Oh! I might have some superglue left from forever ago.”

“Do I even wanna know what you used that for?”

He pulled his bag up onto your shared bed and sat as he riffled through it. “We had a bit of a prank war a while back and I, uh…might’ve put super glue all over his beer bottle in a restaurant so he couldn’t put it back down.”

You threw your head back and laughed, giving Sam a playful shove to the shoulder. “Oh god, I love you.”

Sam’s head suddenly snapped up, the smile half-frozen on his face as he stared at you with a deer-in-the-headlights look. He gave you a breathy laugh before quickly returning his attention to his bag. “Uh…yeah, I—um…”

Your face fell. “Sam?”

“I’m okay,” he said a little too quickly before pulling a small tube out of one of his bag’s front pockets. “Ah, damn, it’s empty.”

Awkwardness still hung thick in the air, making you wonder if your joking I love you had revealed too much about how you actually felt. You suddenly felt a little dizzy at the thought of having just given yourself away only to have your and Sam’s friendship slowly start to crumble in the face of inevitable rejection. You two had always been close and even though the stares had been a little longer lately, if he felt the same about you, you would’ve known by now…right? And surely he wouldn’t have had that reaction just now.

You tried to hide the shakiness of your breath. “We’ll, uh…have to make sure we get more next time we’re at the store then.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at you nervously before giving you a quick smile that disappeared in a hurry.

You hovered by him awkwardly for a few moments, trying to glance at him without catching his eye while he was suddenly very interested in the depths of his bag, empty superglue tube in hand.

“I’ll just—” he started.

“I’m gonna—”  you tried, beginning to move out of the aisle between beds towards the bathroom just as he stood up, bumping straight into you. With his speed and bulk, however, he almost knocked you over and quickly grabbed your forearms to stop you from tumbling back into the nightstand.

“Sorry!” he cried, finally meeting your gaze.

You had grabbed some of his shirt in your fists on instinct and for a moment, you stood transfixed again. Up close, his eyes really were pretty—they were so versatile: some days, they were a deep, dark brown that reminded you of chocolate and looked so warm and inviting, you wanted to just sink into him. Others, like today, flecks of green popped out in just the right lighting, reminding you of a sunflower field. You didn’t realize he was staring back at you with just as much intensity until his thumbs began rubbing gentle circles into your forearms.

You shook your head slightly to clear it. “I’m, ahem, gonna use the bathroom while it’s free.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course! I—yeah!” He quickly let you go, stepping out of your way and gesturing for you to move first.

You quickly yanked a change of clothes out of your now clean bag before hurrying to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door and whatever had just happened away behind you.

Later that night, after you and Sam had already settled in bed, Dean finally emerged from the bathroom. Being on the side closest to his bed, you turned away to face Sam to hide your smile. You found him with his eyes open as well, biting his lip to avoid laughing.

Dean made a contented sigh as you heard the covers thrown back, followed by several cracking and popping noises, then the loud flbbbpppppttttt of the whoopie cushion. “Son of a bitch! Oh, god, ow—fuck—what the hell!”

You covered your mouth with your hand in a vain attempt to hide your laughs, seeing Sam do the same out of the corner of your eye.

“I know you two assholes are awake,” Dean grumbled before climbing back out of bed and checking under the fitted sheet. “Oh, this is war, Y/N.”

“Enjoy your Skittle bed, dickhead,” you said over your shoulder, pulling a loud guffaw from Sam.

“I’m sleeping on the damn couch,” Dean muttered before you heard him move across the room.

You closed your eyes, smiling to yourself, and tried to focus on evening out your breathing. After several minutes, right before you crossed the threshold of sleep, you could’ve sworn you felt warm fingers brushing your cheek.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

To a Tea 2

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc. 

Part of the Sweet and Spicy AU 

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk. 

18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you. 

Summary:  A demanding customer grows increasingly needy.

Character:  Raymond Smith

The title is a pun, don’t @ me.

Please comment and reblog if it’s not too much. I always love getting to chat about these stories and hearing all your ideas! You all are wonderful and loved. 

You don’t often miss work, but that week, a burst pipe throws everything off. A morning spent waiting on your landlord, then the next few hours for a plumber, has things a bit off kilter. Even the next day, you’re not quite back on point. 

The patched wall next to fridge reminds you of the disaster and a dingy smell persists. You hope it doesn’t cling to you as you set off for your shift that day. If you can, you want to pick up some hours from others if their up for grabs. Harry doesn’t like Saturday’s, maybe he’ll hand over some. 

You try to leave your problems behind as you catch a bus down to the city centre. You get to the tea shop five minutes before the hour. Jenna’s wrapping up the opening tasks as you go to leave your things in the back. You tie on your apron and unlock the front door for the first customers of the day. 

At first, it’s a trickle. Never very much at all. The early risers who often come alone or if they aren’t, they don’t speak much or very loudly. The smell of fresh baking and the slow rising sun add to the lazy din. 

“Thought the special was strawberry today,” you comment as you transfer macarons from a cooled tray to the display. 

“Eh, it was but we didn’t have enough jam,” she shrugs. “Changed the sign, is all.” 

“Ah, thought my mind was lagging again. Everything’s been off since yesterday.” 

“Eh, how’s the apartment, anyhow? Marilyn said it was something about a leak?” 

“Burst pipe,” you explain, “they took out the wall above the sink, buncha clanging all day. When I tell you this place is like heaven.” 

She chuckles, “can be.” 

“There’s a formal tea booked in the Marigold Room at noon,” she intones, “forgot to mention that. With Mother’s day coming up, suppose we’ll get more bookings.” 

“Suppose,” you go to check the schedule hanging on the wall. “Party of twelve, wow.” 

“I’ll man the till. Honest, since those ladies at New Years, I’ve hated doing them.” 

“No problem, Harry should be here, shouldn’t he?” 

“Well, he’s... called in.” 

“Again?” You whine as you face her. 

“Are you really surprised?” She scoffs. 

“No one else to cover? Not even Louisa?” 

“Nah, she’s on holiday still.” 

You huff, “fine. Not much of a choose then, is it?” 

🫖

The tea room is as close to raucous as you’ve ever heard it. You have your back to the rest of the shop as you balance the stacked serving trays with an array of sponge cake, fruit, and biscuits. It’s the typical assortment for a tea party booking. 

You’ve already served the tea and the sandwiches, and dessert is the last bit, along with any further pots needed to be steeped throughout. With a partner, it isn’t hard to keep up, but alone, it’s rather overwhelming. Jenna does her best to assist but there aren’t many lulls around lunch time. 

Beyond that, the tourists are chatty. You could hardly get away to fetch each course as they wanted to chat about the culture and your suggestions of what they should do next. It’s nice that they’re friendly but still stressful. 

You put the trays on the cart and roll it around the counter. As you do, you nearly skid to a halt. In the rush, you hadn’t noticed him. Your eyes meet Raymond’s as he watches you. Intent, intense. You give an apologetic smile and nod in acknowledgement. Jenna wanted to deal with the main room, she’ll have to wipe down his table and do her best. 

You roll behind the wall and into the Marigold room. You present the tray and grab it by the ring at the top, lifting it onto the centre of the table. You roll around to gather the empty plates and cups, taking two pots for refill. 

You come back out and see Raymond standing, just as he was. He sees you too. Watching, hands folded, knuckles white, jaw set. He’s usually patient but you don’t know how long he’s been waiting. 

You roll behind the counter and sigh, clearing off the cart as Jenna steams a tea latte. 

“Can you wipe Raymond’s table?” You ask. 

“Who?” She furrows her brow. 

You glance over your shoulder toward the man in question and she follows. She rolls her eyes, “I tried, I wiped the the table. He didn’t sit.” 

“Hm, well... did you wash your hands first?” 

“Christ Almighty, what is he a child?” 

“Jen, he’s just... you know, my mom’s the same. He can’t help it.” 

“You can deal with him. I won’t be arsed,” she sniffs, “he was rude and you know I don’t got time for those ones.” 

“Jenna, I’m kinda up to my eyes,” you dump the used bags from a pot. “I know he can be prickly but just wash your hands and redo the table.” 

“Ugh, fine,” she sneers, “but you owe me.” 

“Let’s call it even,” you retort as you pour boiling water into the pots mouth. 

She shakes her head and huffs, “guess it is.” 

🫖

It’s nearly three in the afternoon. It’s quiet. Harry’s on his phone instead of doing the cups and your wiping the empty tables to keep yourself moving. The door opens and you glance over to make sure Harry’s alert. He’s not. 

Doesn’t matter. It’s him. Raymond. You stand and clutch the cloth tight in your hand as you greet him. 

“Be right with you, Raymond,” you assure him. 

He barely looks at you as he goes to wait next to his table. You go behind the counter and mutter under your breath in Harry’s direction, “...dirty cups.” You wash your hands and make sure to clink some of the empty porcelain in an effort to draw your coworker’s attention. He’s still entranced by his phone. 

You take the disinfectant wipes and go back out. You approach Raymond as he checks his watch. 

“How are you today?” You ask. 

He grumbles and shrugs, “fine.” 

“English Breakfast, black,” you declares as you finish wiping up, “usual.” 

“So you remember,” he challenges as he steps close, closer than ever, before sidling around to sit. 

“Of course, I always do,” you smile. 

“And last time?” 

“Last time...” 

“Twice.” 

You’re confused. What is he talking about? 

“I came on Tuesday and you weren’t here. Then on Thursday, you didn’t even say hello.” 

“Oh, well, I’m sorry, Raymond, it was a busy day. Tuesday, I had a personal emergency so I didn’t even know you’d been in--” 

“I’ll have my tea now,” he interjects tersely. 

“Right, tea,” you confirm and spin around. 

“Crooked strings,” he remarks dully, “again.” 

[obamas-eyebrow]

The highest bidder /2

Trouble in paradise?

Sejanus plinth x Heavensbee! Reader(f)

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Part 1

Wc; 5.9K

Warnings; No reader body/race descriptions (if any pls lmk) A little ooc. NO USE OF Y/N. English is not my first language.

Heavy talk of insecurity and some not nice father/son relationships yk.

A/n: 🚪🏃‍♀️💨

Summary; Congrats, you two! Equal parts fluff/angst.

Who knew that your little master plan would come to fruition? 

You didn’t. 

Actually, you were just messing around, and it had all gotten so real, so fast. 

These past few weeks had been an absolute dream, having mutually agreed on delaying the actual engagement until you were a little more comfortable, much to your father’s dismay. 

Not only was non-official courting heavily frowned upon in the capitol, especially for those of high status, but it was also more of a chore to him than he thought you knew. Either way, you’d been keeping your relationship private from everyone, even your closest friends. It wasn’t with ill intent or anything, but you knew that the moment your name hit the news you’d be bombarded with questions and interviews that you were honestly too giddy to answer at the moment. Between fleeting glances in the academy hallways and rented-out restaurants for dates, the last month and a bit had been nothing short of a movie. 

Tonight, though, was a little different. With increasing pressure from both families and more people starting to notice your sudden closeness, it was inevitable that something official had to take place soon. But Sejanus refused to take any further steps before formally introducing you to his ma. 

Which brings you here, gift basket in hand as you waited for their apartment door to open. An avox let you in and you thanked them politely, standing awkwardly in the entryway as you waited for a familiar face. Finally, ma came out looking for you in an elegant black dress, her face breaking out into a wide smile at your presence. You stuck your hand out for her to shake, but she pulled you into a hug instead.

“No empty pleasantries, okay?” She laughed.

You handed the basket over to her and she set it  aside, guiding you along to the living room, where she poured two cups of tea along with a small serving of biscuits. Opposite to the couch you sat on, there was a fireplace with various family photos and trophies displayed on top, some of them large enough for you to observe from your spot. They were mostly of Sejanus’ younger days, of course, whether it be standing proudly in his swim floaties or smiling with a freshly sprouted set of teeth or huddled with his friends. This lead you to believe that this room would not otherwise be used for any guest, only close ones. 

“Sejanus will be down soon, and the food’s almost ready.” She settled in front of you. “In the meantime, let’s chat. So, tell me, what do you plan on doing after university.”

And so you fell into easy conversation with her, the topic shifting often and flowing smoothly. You noticed her tense up at the mention of your family, debating within herself about whether or not she should say something about your mom. 

“You know- I don’t mean to be forward but…” She sighed. “I lost my mother when I was young, my sister raised me.” She placed a hand on top of yours “I can’t say I know how it feels, but if you need anything, anything at all, I’m here.”

“Thank you, ma. It means alot.” You smiled into your cup. “Are you still close? With your sister, I mean.”

“Oh, yes. She’s the only one that’s kept in touch. She used to spoil Sejanus rotten, back home. Wish we could see her again.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“She is…And your brother, are you two close?”

“Uhm…difficult question actually.” You shook your head. “He has his moments, deep down I know he likes having me around. No matter how much his mother tried, we still ended up being quite the pair, I think he’s just a bit hormonal at the moment.”

She laughed, “You’re tellin’ me!”

It seemed that, at the implication of his actions, Sejanus made an appearance into the room. He had oven mittens on with a matching apron over his clothes, a steaming hot pan of food between his hands. He had been looking for his ma, unaware of your arrival. 

“Ma, does this-” He choked on his breath, eyes having landed on your smiling face. 

The apron had a cat pattern on it, and he was still very much in his pajamas, fuzzy bunny slippers and all. 

“Have I caught you at a bad time?” You giggled.

“I was not told that you came…” He shot a pointed look at his ma before turning on his heel and rushing back out of your sights, grumbling something about needing to change. You tried to hold back your laugh, but it proved difficult when ma brought a hand up to her mouth to conceal her smile. You both erupted into a fit of giggles. 

“Well, there’s just a few things I’ve got to finish up in the kitchen.”

“Need any help?”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest! We don’t get many of those.” She mumbled the last part. 

“Please, I don’t like feeling useless,” The term you usually heard was burden, but that’s a confession for another day. 

“Okay, come on.”

She led you through the hallways to the kitchen, which had marble countertops and a sizable island in the middle. On said island, was a selection of various dishes, from appetizers to sweets, some waiting to be properly served while others sat proud with their presentation.

“Everything looks wonderful,” It really did, it isn’t often that food packs flavour in the capitol, awful taste buds must be in the genes or something. 

“Well, I can’t take the credit for most of these anyway, Sejanus has been up all morning preparing.”

You smiled at the thought. “Impressive,” You motioned to the variety of food that he made. 

“Yes, well, he was hellbent on impressing you…” She trailed off, biting her lip to suppress another smile. “Don’t know if he’ll be able to do much of that with his rabbit slippers.”

Her hand came up to cover her eyes at the memory of her son’s image. Her shoulders shook with silent laughter. “I’m sorry- I shouldn’t. He’s really trying.”

“So am I.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, and she looked at you with more admiration than you’d think you deserved. You two stayed there, for quite a few beats, the same look on her face. 

“Ma?”

“Sorry- I just-” She looked away, grabbing a tissue to dab away the tears that had formed abruptly. “I never thought I’d see the day!” She sighed. “We’ve been having such a hard time since we moved here, and I was scared that it’d js’ be him and I from now on. Everyone here is so…”

“Vile, Vapid, ill mannered, classist.”

“I was just going to say mean, but that works too.” She laughed. 

You smiled at her, “You know, I remember when he first came to the school. I thought he had pretty eyes.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I was a lot more awkward, standoffish, and shy then… I still am. And I had- trouble…at home. But anyway, one time, I tripped while playing with people I thought were my friends, scraped my knee, and stayed down crying. He helped me up, walked me to the nurse, and stayed with me. But I never caught his name, and he never looked at me again.”

The tears had reformed at the recounting of her son’s younger days. “You aren’t so shy now.”

“What? Cause I walked up to him at the party? It was more of a ‘now or never’ situation. I knew my father only threw the ball to find me a suitor, and that he would find someone by the end of the night-no doubt. So it was either I talk to him, or I live in my fantasy, so I swallowed my fears.”  

Sejanus cleared his throat, alerting both of you of his presence. He had switched out of his sleepwear and into something more dressy for the night, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. You checked him out shamelessly, whistling playfully as he approached you with a proud smile on his face. 

“Hi,”

“Hi,” You sighed nervously. “You look great…you looked better in that apron though,”

He dropped his head down in embarrassment, a hand coming up to rub his eyes. He then straightened back up, meeting your eyes in what felt like one long awkward staring contest. You were suddenly hyper aware of ma’s presence by your side as she too had a stupidly wide smile on her face. Sejanus tossed her a side eye, raising his eyebrows at her, and she seemed to get the memo. 

“Right, looks like I forgot my bunny slippers upstairs, better go grab them.”

He dropped his shoulders in laughter as she walked past him, but he grabbed her, pressing a quick kiss atop her head before she headed out. 

“M’ gettin’ bullied in my own home.”

“I thought it was cute.”

“I’m sure you did.”

You turned your attention back to the food on the table, “You didn’t have to do all this, you know?”

He tsked, scrunching his face in annoyance. “She told you?”

“Yeah.” You giggled.

He grabbed some of the dishes and nodded over to where the dining room met the kitchen, and you mirrored his actions, following him to set the table.

“Wanted to surprise you, ws’ gonna tell you after dinner.”

You laughed at his sheepishness, setting the plates down with care at the table that was set up with 3 seats, the tabletop set with fine china similar to the one you used at home. Ma made her appearance just as you put the last bowl down, which led you to believe that she was watching this whole time. She sat at the head of the table and you sat on her left, leaving the space on her right for Sejanus, who’d made his way to the opposite side of the room where a small liquor closet was. 

“Would you like anything in particular? It’s better than posca, I promise.”

“No, thanks!”

He made his way back with a bottle his ma liked, pouring her a cup before grabbing yours. 

“Oh, I don’t drink.”

He nodded, not dwelling on it and poured himself a serving before sitting down.

“Wait, what do you mean you don’t drink?” He frowned. “What was that stunt with the lemon and champagne then?”

You shrugged, trying to suppress a mischievous smile. “Improv? I needed something to say.”

“Your little trick tasted like straight acid!”

“It worked, though.”

He pushed his tongue out into his cheek, narrowing his eyes as he replayed the memory. 

“No- I could swear you were sipping on it while we talked.”

You cocked your head, “Was I?” Your voice went up an octave. 

He tried to jog his memory some more, had your glass been still full while his was nearly empty when you two made an exit? Was he going crazy? 

“Did you have it all planned out?”

“Hmmmm….maybe..”

He rolled his shoulders in discomfort, having just felt like he had been chronically 2 steps behind you. What else did you have planned?

“Alright, you two, enough flirting, I’m hungry!”

You dug in, savouring the first bite with an exaggerated moan. You turned over to ma.

“Send my kisses to the chef!”

“Of course, I’ll pass it on!”

He chuckled at your antics, blush spreading across his cheeks at your compliment. 

By the end of the meal, you two stood side by side as you rinsed off the dishes. Sure, an avox would’ve usually manned this task, or the dishwasher, but it gave you two a nice, quiet moment to talk. 

“The food was amazing, Sej. Truly, thank you.”

“Really? You’re not js’ sayin’ that to make me feel good?”

You rolled your eyes, “You know you’re a good cook.” You bumped into his side. 

“Okay, well, maybe I js’ wanted to hear you say it.”

“That was simply the best meal I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Oh, you flatter me. Keep going.”

You splashed some water into his face teasingly, a comfortable silence settling between the two of you for some time as you finished up.  

To end the night, he  took you out onto the beautiful patio, lights dimmed as you watched the horizon of the capitol's skyline. He grabbed two glasses, filling them with drinks for either of you. 

“Here you go, one, non-alcoholic beverage for you.” He exaggerated his words.

“Are we pretending your glass isn’t just apple juice?”

He brought his cup in front of him, raising it to inspect it under the moonlight. 

“How can you tell so easily?” He smiled.

“Colour, no fizz.”

“Yeah, m’ not big on alcohol either. Yours is apple juice, too.”

You sighed in contempt, taking a big gulp, as if it would ease your nerves. He seemed to have caught onto your tension, bringing his hand to grasp yours reassuringly. 

“You okay?”

“Hm? Yeah.” You sighed again. “Just worried.”

He rubbed small circles with his thumb into your palm comfortingly. 

“You still sure…about all this?” You looked at him nervously.

“Yeah.” He smiled softly, “Are you having second thoughts?”

“No! No- of course not. Just scared.”

Marriage, no matter who it was with, was a huge responsibility. A far cry from the life you were used to. You were so familiar with the solo routine your whole life, that this change just seemed sort of…odd. 

“I just don’t wanna…” Tell everyone, you don’t want to tell everyone. Don’t want the cameras pointed at your face, the mics shoved into your lips as they asked invasive questions, stretching and embellishing every small detail they coaxed out of you.

“It’s okay.” He squeezed your hand, bringing you back down, “We’ll figure it out. Together, I promise.”

You nodded softly, your words betraying you at the moment. In 6 nights, you two will dress up in flashy garments and walk hand in hand around capitol streets, stopping at some of the jewelers in the boulevard. The paparazzi will be tipped off, and you will be watched by both people around and those at home. You’ll pick a ring thats only another display of wealth, really, and parade around with it for the rest of the night. The following morning, the news will confirm the rumours; the plinth boy and the heavensbee girl are to be wed, and that congratulations are in order. No matter when the wedding is, whether it be a month or years from now, the prep will commence. Venues will rush to host you, wedding magazines will oversee your fittings and every choice. And then, just as fast as it had all begun, all the attention will be taken off you when you officially become honeymooners. Then, no matter how sweet or caring he is, you will be living with a foreign man in your personal space. 

Then the baby rumours will pick apart every gram of weight gain you experience. 

It all sounded so daunting. 

But he made it bearable. 

“You know, I stopped at some of the jewelers a few nights ago- couldn’t help my curiosity.” He took an unsure breath. “Didn’t really like anythin’ there, all felt too…plastic? Ingenuine- that’s the word.” He shoved his hand into the pant pocket, fiddling around with something hidden in there. “None of them felt like they captured how fond I’ve grown of you. And I know it ain’t much, but-” He finally revealed his hand to show a small worn ring box with a delicate engraved band within. Solid gold, you don’t doubt. The outside was carved with small mountains, 4 small Lapis stones placed an equal distance from each other all around. Inside, in tiny handwriting, the nearly unreadable name Plinth. “This won’t be your engagement ring, obviously. But you can consider it a token of my affection. It means alot to me, anyway.”

You were overcome by emotion, trying to find words to say but always coming up short. You stuttered and stammered out a small “Someone’s been reading too much poetry.”

He laughed a little, taking the initiative of delicately pulling the ring out of its hold and placing it on your ring finger. You stared at it in awe. 

“The mountains are for 2, if you hadn’t already figured it out. And the stones…I’m actually not sure, I’ll have to ask ma. It was my grandma’s. Then ma’s. Now, yours.”

You shook your head gently. “Sejanus, this is a lot…”

“Not at all, family heirlooms are meant to be passed down.”

“Okay, well then I’m only borrowing it, okay?”

“Okay.” He gave you a reassuring smile and you kissed him on his cheek.

“Thank you, I love it!”

Yes, this is the kind of moment that would prompt an genuine kiss, but this was actually your first real relationship, his too. So awkwardness was a given. Besides, you always felt that, with your nerves and how the situation is, a kiss would just be…forced? You don’t know, but he hadn’t made any moves either, so maybe he was just as nervous. 

It was getting late, though, and your father was going to be pissed if you stayed any longer, so it was time for you to  head on your way. You bid ma farewell, with promises of more girl dates from here on out, and he walked you to your car. 

“Goodnight, Sej.”

“Goodnight, Sunshine.”

…

You stopped by the apartment again the following afternoon, concerned about Sejanus’ absence from classes that morning. Like clockwork, an Avox let you in and you waited in the entryway for Sejanus to make his appearance. When he did, it seemed like whatever that morning’s events were, they had been visibly weighing down on him. 

“You okay? Just wanted to check up on you.”

He seemed tense, hair disheveled and a mess. “Yeah.” He sighed. “M’ fine.”

You didn’t press him, “Okay, if you need anything, you can call me.”

You turned to leave.

“Wait! Do you want to study together?”

He looked like he needed a distraction, so you took him up on the offer, phoning home first to let them know you’ll be late.

He had gotten into a little heated discussion with his father earlier that morning about the whole marriage, which was really just another lecture on status and wealth and class and bla bla bla. It was the only thing keeping him uneasy about this arrangement, giving his father the satisfaction of knowing that he would be marrying capitol. Of course, he wouldn’t tell you that, but it bounced around in his mind from time to time. 

You two had abandoned studying all together, opting to cuddle on his bed as you talked about everything and nothing instead. But of course, the conversation had somehow spiraled into his distaste for the capitol and every odd detail in it. 

“I just hate it here.” He sighed.

“Do you wish you would’ve stayed?”

“Yes! More than anything.”

The answer you were looking for was actually, ‘No, cause I wouldn’t have met you,’ but maybe that was just wishful thinking. You knew he was just riled up at the moment. 

“But don’t you think your father had a point? Life in the districts is now dangerous for children, with the hunger games and all. You gotta give him some credit. Don’t you think, if you were in his shoes, you would have done the same?”

It was maybe just a poor choice of words. 

On a day he was already ticked off. 

About his father, whom he can’t get two sentences exchanged with before he goes off on some tangent. 

This was just the cherry on top. 

He tensed under your touch. 

You don’t know what it’s like, you never will, and somehow the mention of his fathers actions so casually had brought that realisation to him all too suddenly. Even if nothing said was particularly wrong. The anger that had been directed towards his father had now bled onto you, the way you said these words so casually, despite the fact that you had no right nor insight to speak on any matter like that. He felt disgusted with himself, at letting you get so close. What was he thinking, marrying capitol. How foolish. 

How foolish was he to think that you’d side with him instead of the life you’d known for so long. 

Of course. 

He let you stay the rest of the afternoon, practically talking to yourself about random things as he occasionally hummed or chimed in. You even got up at some point, working some more on school assignments before you heard him yawn.

“You tired?”  

“Yeah. Think I’m gonna take a nap.” He shut his eyes to avoid yours. 

“Okay, well, I’ll leave you to it, then.”

You got up, unsuspectingly, gathering your things into a bag before you waited for him by the door, but he made no move to get up. 

“Okay, I’m leaving, bye Sej.”

“Bye.”

Your brows furrowed as you shut the door softly, usually he insists on walking you to the car. You tried to chalk it up to him just being tired, but couldn’t shake off the coldness you felt. 

The following morning came, and he avoided you entirely at the university, seemingly always focused on something else when you tried to catch his attention. You tried to convince yourself it was nothing, really, but it just wasn’t adding up.  

So you made your way to the apartment once more, three days in a row that is. But this time, the avox that usually greeted you at the door simply shook her head, Sejanus wasn’t home. 

That didn’t sound right, but there weren’t many answers you could get from a voiceless person. 

You phoned his house later that evening, worried about the sudden absence from your life. His ma picked up. 

“Hello?”

“Ma! How are you doing?”

“I’m great sweetheart, how are you?”

“I’m okay, is Sejanus around?”

“Hold on, let me check.”

She set the phone down, making the short trip to her son’s room and knocked on his door softly. He was hunched over his desk, glasses atop his nose as he immersed his mind in endless essay assignments. 

“Hi, ma.”

“Baby, your girl is on the phone asking for you. Seemed upset.”

“What did you tell her?”

She cringed, pouting a little at the odd reply. “That I'd go look for you?”

“Could you tell her I’m asleep? Thanks ma.” He kept his head down. 

Ma tried to process her son’s words, unsure what to make of them. 

“What’s goin’ on, you two okay?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” 

She dropped her shoulders in concern, knowing that Sejanus isn’t one to like being pressed for answers, so she let it go. She had a feeling, though, evident by your tone of voice, that you were none the wiser as she made her way back to the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Hi! Is he not home?”

“He is, would you mind stopping by sweetheart?” 

…

This time, it was ma who greeted you at the door with a warm hug, guiding you through to sit down for a chat first. 

“Did you two fight?”

“What? No!” Despite your sureness, you attempted to jog your memory a little, trying to single out anything that might give you a clue. “He was just acting a little weird yesterday, that’s the only thing that really sticks out to me.”

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. “He had an argument with his father that morning, you might just have been collateral. Come on.”

You followed her up the familiar stairs to his room, and she let you step in front of her to try to talk things through. You knocked softly.

“Sej?” There was no reply, so, with a nod from ma, you creaked the door open. And there he was, sitting at his desk with his back to you. 

“Can we talk?”

He made no moves, not shifting a single cell. 

“You know ignoring me won’t fix things…”

He still made no attempt to meet you halfway and anger was slowly starting to taint your tone. You had not known him to be this immature. 

“Sejanus, please.” You hated how you sounded, but he was not aware of how dire your situation was. “My family keeps asking questions and I’m fresh out of excuses, are we going through with this or not.”

He didn’t say anything, your heart sank. 

Ma stepped forward to try to fix things but you stopped her before she said anything, then marched over to his side as you wiggled the ring off your finger. You slammed it down by his side and his eyes glued themselves to it. The truth was, he felt guilty, for  all this, and especially for being the reason you’re upset, but he tends to run extremely stubborn when it comes to matters involving his father, and he is yet to overcome this pride. 

Ma tried  to protest, but you gave her a quick hug, whispering “Thank you, for everything.” before you rushed back down. When you reached the foot of the stairs, you heard shuffling from the room, a chair being pulled out and some footsteps. It was him, no doubt, and you heard him pause at the top of the stairs as you stood frozen on the bottom. 

But you didn’t turn around, instead shaking your head and continuing out the door and down to the car. 

He watched you from the window, your brother was waiting by the car for you. You mumbled something to him before getting into the car angrily, he seemed pleased. And then you disappeared out of sights. 

He sighed, setting out to find ma to talk to her. He found her in the kitchen, prepping some ingredients for a pastry, something she usually does when upset. She heard him come in, but didn’t turn to face him.

“Ma…” His voice was hoarse.

“Oh, good. I was beginning to think you lost your voice.”

He shuffled his feet over to her side, posture hunched and defeated as he waited for her usual embrace, which never came. Instead she began putting the batter together from memory. 

He gulped, “Ma…” His voice cracked, and she sighed, hands stilling as she turned to look at him. He looked distressed, tearful, guilty and she couldn’t stay cold towards him. Even if she was still mad, she brought him into a hug, leaning him down significantly so that he could rest his head on her shoulder. He was still her baby boy, after all. When his shoulders began shaking with quiet sobs, she led him over to the chairs by the island, abandoning her original task in favour of working things through. He detached from her, head falling immediately into his hands in shame. 

He hated feeling like this, like an emotional child. Sometimes he wonders if he ever moved past his 8 year old self. 

He was just tired of pretending, of playing a part in an already well-oiled machine, all he did was slow it down. He couldn’t, despite how hard he tried, fit in. Whether it be because he wasn’t clever enough to keep his past behind him or if he just didn’t want to. He was an outsider here, but he was an outsider back home, too. The Plinths weren’t exactly popular with his father’s support for the capitol. All he really had was his ma, his aunt would write him sometimes, too, and he knew he had cousins, relatives, but they’ve never really spoken before.

And you. 

For a nice long intake of breath, he had you, and then he cut whatever you two had with his own hands. Tore it apart. 

It wasn’t your fault, it wasn’t your words either. His father’s insistence on turning every chat between them into a talk about the marriage like some sort of business decision had made his resentment to the situation grow. It was not towards you specifically, just your predicament. His father would insist he gets closer to your father, attempt to weasel his way into the next class up. Attend meetings and give his two cents on crucial decisions, that that was what this whole thing was about. But Sejanus, as much as he feels weird admitting, just wants to love and be loved. He wants the marriage to be about you two, not the union in and of itself. And the more his father whispered into his ear, the more he realized that the business side of things was inevitable. 

And he was not cut out for that. 

Doubt began eating away at him, though, again, it wasn’t in any way your fault, his father would repeat the words,

“What exactly do you think she gets out of marrying you?”

And, it wasn’t status. But it could be money. Most of the ‘rich’ capitol folk are either only pretending to have kept their status -often its obvious- or are so senile that you begin to wonder if they’ve been participating in youth preserving rituals. Plastic surgery, they call it. 

You called it witchcraft. He smiled at the memory. 

But anyway, the number of families who have preserved their wealth are few, the number of those who have new wealth is exactly 1. 

He knew, without a shadow of doubt, that you were not marrying him for that reason. But, he also knew that he was your best option. 

Did you even like him all that much? Or was he the most tolerable, least unpleasant image of a husband. Did you pick him because most of the pool was at least twice your age? 

No. He tried to wave that thought away, most of his classmates were not small contenders for your hand in marriage. 

But then again, with your views of the capitol and outspoken nature, was he the only possible option? 

Clearly, you had it all planned out for some time, had he just been the finalist in your elimination game?

He was now crudely aware of just how insecure he was, something that had obviously never come up before. But he was glad ma was by his side, he could always count on her for judgement free listening. 

And so he told her everything, about the argument and your words and how he felt, how it all spiraled out of his control. Despite his relationship with his father, he knew that his ma loved him, which always put her in the awkward buffer zone between them. She listened intently as he spilled everything, words coming out before he could stop them. For the most part, the moment he said his thoughts out loud they immediately sounded stupid, which was oddly comforting. 

By the end of the night, he realised that all he needed was to talk it out with someone, even if he came to all the solutions entirely on his own. She hugged him tightly, wiping the remnants of tears gently before smacking him on the head. 

“Ow!”

“Needed to get that outta my system.” She sighed, licking her lips in preparation for what she was about to tell him. 

“You can’t expect her to take you back, at least not easily. You’re going to have to put in some work. She might not even want to see you- you were acting so childish!” She shook her head. “But, unfortunately for her, I can tell she likes you, so maybe if you managed to get a moment alone to talk it out, you might have a chance.”

He nodded, thinking carefully about how he’d like to play things out. 

But he didn’t see you at the university the next morning. In fact, you hadn’t attended the rest of that week at all. He’d begun to grow concerned, unsure if strolling up to your place would make sense, considering there’s a high chance your brother would intercept him first. Speaking of which, he’d been showing up to classes like normal, and avoiding him, as he always did. He tried calling your home, sending apology gift baskets, but nothing worked. Every hour that went by, he beat himself up for driving you to these lengths, and when all hope was seemingly gone, you finally showed up to the university. 

At first glance, he’d say you looked well, put together. He caught sight of you in the cafeteria during lunch, sitting by your friends, as always. They were engaged in a heated conversation that you showed no interest in being a part of, playing with the fork instead. You looked sad, duh, and the heavy makeup caked onto your face had him wondering what it could be hiding. Had you announced your relationship from the start, he would’ve just walked up to you then, but in the current situation, that would only end sourly. He knew he had no right, but he just wanted to make sure you were okay, as pathetic as that sounds. 

He wasn’t able to get you alone, didn’t catch up to you leaving after class like he usually did. He only managed to steal a moment with your brother, who gave him a tight-lipped smile and a shoulder squeeze, nothing else. 

He was growing restless. He found solace in his ma’s side as she watched some cheesy old picture on the tv where the main character was admitting his mistakes to his beloved, who held him close. How fitting. He thought of how you must’ve looked that night when he refused to talk to you, how you faced your family, and then thought about how he hadn’t gone to your house in case he would get turned away, he thought of his pride and how much it had cost him until now. So, with a jolt, he stood up, stepping in front of his ma’s line of sight so that she could talk to him. 

He was going to your place, right now, consequences or not. Maybe he’ll throw pebbles at your window -he always wanted to do that- to get you attention. He told ma, told her that he’ll find a way to fix things, that he was going to buy flowers and chocolates and wear his heart on his sleeve. 

But her attention had slowly shifted off his face to the screen behind him, a frown slowly overcoming her. She didn’t have the heart- nor the words, to tell him what she was seeing right now. Eventually, when he noticed her face, he turned around in confusion. 

Sure enough, it was a sight that warranted way more than just a frown. 

There you were, looking as gorgeous as ever in a floor length, simple white gown. Beside you, a middle aged man in a smart tux. You were holding hands, both of you looking like it was the worst sensation on earth, but you more so. Your immediate family surrounded you, smiles bright, especially Hilarius. It was only a picture, taken in some downtown street in candid fashion, but he was familiar with that prompt. 

The scene cut away from your face to the celebrity gossip talk show host for the night, who only confirmed what he already feared. You had gotten engaged to that man. 

And congratulations were in order. 

[silentsneezes]

ignore this if you only write mlm but caitvi allergiessss.....

i generally write mlm relationships because i tend to hyper fixate on them more often, but i'm always happy to receive any asks! it's my first time writing cait/vi, so if their dynamic is off just lmk!

with that said, here's 1.4k of v/i suffering from allergies

After an admittedly rocky start to their relationship, Vi and Caitlyn have managed to settle into a peaceful domesticity. At least, as peaceful as it can be for the couple. They’ve only been living together for a couple of months, and it’s certainly had its ups and downs. Except now they seem to have found a steady contentment in sharing Caitlyn’s old apartment, which is nice by any standards. Its rich architecture differs vastly from the home Vi was raised in, but she’s started to make it her own as well: hanging posters where Caitlyn permits, reorganizing cupboards to better accommodate her height, and framing pictures of her family in the living room. 

There’s only one problem that’s currently at the forefront of their focus. It’s not nearly as pressing as any of the issues they've faced before, but it’s giving Vi one hell of a time. The problem being spring in Piltover; everything is in full bloom, flowers displayed proudly in most yards or gardens, and the spring breeze carrying enough pollen to create a yellow coating over most outdoor areas. 

Vi’s allergies have only really set in the past few days as spring has officially come about, and they’re practically insufferable for her. She’s not one to admit to weaknesses or discomfort, especially not to those she cares deeply for– ironic, isn’t it? The only person who can level with her stubbornness is Cait, and even then it’s a painstaking process. 

The couple sits idly in their living room, Vi’s leg draped over Cait’s as she stretches out on their couch. The windows throughout the apartment are sealed tightly, despite Caitlyn’s typical preference of leaving them ajar to allow for a pleasant breeze. She’d learned her lesson two days ago, having left the bedroom window without second thought, only to wake up to Vi muffling a fit into her pillow. It’s safe to say she won’t be doing that again.

As Vi pesters her nose with her shirt sleeve, rubbing the itchy appendage side to side roughly, Cait pulls a neatly folded handkerchief from her pocket, murmuring a soft, “here” as she offers it to her girlfriend.

“I’m fine, cupcake. I don’t want to soil your- hhhh-handkerchief,” Vi denies, her voice catching part way through the sentence but still continuing with steadfast determination. Cait rolls her eyes at Vi’s denial of her handkerchief, her gaze flicking down to observe the wet patch forming on her girlfriend’s sleeve. 

“So you’d rather soil your shirt instead?” she teases, pressing her hankie into Vi’s palm despite her refusal. 

“Point taken,” Vi mumbles, rubbing the silky synthetic fabric between two fingers. She turns it over, grinning as she notices Caitlyn’s initials embroidered neatly in the corner of the white cloth. She bites her tongue from teasing Caitlyn, knowing her girlfriend chooses to indulge in expenses such as these. Afterall, who is she to judge? If she’d grown up as rich as Caitlyn, she probably would’ve spent money on much more trivial things than embroidering a handkerchief— likely excessive amounts of booze and a good pipe similar to the one Vander had always used.

She smiles at Caitlyn with a fond expression, raising a hand to cup her cheek. Her fingers are rough and calloused against Caitlyn’s porcelain skin, and yet Caitlyn leans into the touch, her eyes drifting closed in a moment of vulnerability.

A moment rudely interrupted by the recurring itch plaguing Vi’s nose, “hhH- god, this fuckhhing- hhuh- hhH’sZSsChhew!” 

“Ble-,” Caitlyn starts, only to be interrupted with a second, “hhHSZxChh!” caught into the folds of the handkerchief. 

“Bless you,” she murmurs softly, watching as an allergic tear slips down her cheek, “oh darling, your allergies really are miserable today.”

Vi snorts back the liquid clinging to the base of her nose with a rough snNRK. Caitlyn restrains herself from tutting, hearing her mother’s sharp command of “Manners, Caitlyn,” ring in her ears. But she is not her mother, for better or for worse, so she shoves aside the urge to correct Vi’s behavior. 

Vi leans forward as she groans, burying her nose in Caitlyn’s shoulder and mumbling, “you’re lucky I love you enough to live here.” 

Caitlyn laughs, a hand coming up to stroke Vi’s hair, “lucky to hear your symphony of sneezes, hm?” 

Vi doesn’t reply, instead pulling away from her girlfriend and pitching to the side. She barely raises her arm in time to half-cover the sudden expulsions, “hh’ehTSCHhhew– hhKsSXCHh!” 

“Goodness, bless you,” Caitlyn exclaims in slight surprise at the force of the sneezes, cringing ever so slightly at the spray that lingers in the air. 

Vi keeps her wrist held loosely in front of her face as she scrunches up her twitching nose, trying to coax out the next sneeze. After a particularly disappointing false start, Vi finally lowers her hand. 

“You know, the handkerchief is only helpful if you use it,” Caitlyn prompts in amusement. 

Vi huffs quietly, but picks up the hankie and wipes her nose roughly, leaving it tinged with a pinkish red hue, “happy now?” 

“Very,” Caitlyn murmurs, her hand returning to its position on Vi’s head. Her fingers work their way through her girlfriend’s pink hair, scratching gently along her scalp and eliciting a quiet noise of contentment, one only Caitlyn has the privilege of hearing. 

“How do Pilties- hhh- live like thhhHis…not aghhain,” Vi’s taunt is broken between hitching breaths, her frustrated expression melting into her customary ‘pre-sneeze’ expression. A few seconds pass, silent save for her huffing and hitching. She groans as it only results in another false start, berating her nose once again. 

“I’d suspect most Zaunites are sensitive to the pollen in Piltover. Our ecosystems-”

“hhHSZCchh! snDf. Sorrhhy cupcake, not dhhH- hhK’tSCHhh! done,” Vi excuses lamely, tilting her head back against the couch in exasperation. Her nostrils flare, quivering with every inhale she takes. 

“Bless you, bless you darling,” Caitlyn murmurs for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day. Vi had given up in trying to convince Caitlyn to stop blessing her every time, knowing her girlfriend’s manners are far too ingrained for her to stop. 

“Thangks,” Vi mutters, kneading her nose against the palm of her hand with a wet squelch. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn tuts, unable to resist the slight admonishment at her partner’s lack of etiquette.

“Cait,” Vi responds with a grin, lowering her hand and smirking at her girlfriend's slight annoyance. Wordlessly, Caitlyn presses the handkerchief back into Vi’s hand, reminding her that there’s a better way to attend to her nose than with her palm. 

Examining the fabric again, Vi questions, “you really take this everywhere you go?”

“Yes, I do,” Caitlyn responds, her hand resuming its gentle affection against Vi’s scalp. 

“Hm, seems like a lot of work just to carry around a snot rag.” Caitlyn scoffs slightly at Vi’s use of the words “snot rag”, flicking her head in response. 

“Hey!” Vi laughs, “I’m just saying, it can’t be- hhH- can’t- hheh… hhiH-”

“Can’t what, love,” Caitlyn teases, knowing Vi will take it as a challenge to speak through the building sneezes. 

“Can’t bhhHSZXSxch! be saniiiH-iHSKSCHHhew! sanitary to hhuh- fugkKHSSZsch’uh!” Vi gives up, fumbling to grab the hankie and muffle the ensuing fit. Caitlyn’s initial amusement dissipates as Vi snaps forwards with sneeze after sneeze, gasping between each expulsion. 

Her hand moves to rub Vi’s back, murmuring soft comforts as the fit unfolds, “there you go, just breathe… I’ve got you… oh, that was a big one, hm?”

Once the sneezing subsides, Vi blows her nose messily into the folds of the handkerchief, tossing its sodden form onto the coffee table once she’s done. 

“Bless you Vi. Are you okay?”

“I’mb ogkay- snDFF- I’m okay,” Vi mutters, resting back against Caitlin in exhaustion, “but your handkerchiefs not,” she jokes with a slight grin.

“Nothing a simple wash won’t fix,” Caitlin reassures her, her eyes flicking to see the discarded fabric, wet with mess. 

The couple remains on the couch for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, staying closely intertwined as Vi struggles to control her allergies. Eventually, thank god, she finally agrees to take medicine to minimize her symptoms. Stubborn as she is, even she can recognize that she was fighting a losing battle. 

[heartsforvin]

facetime sex with vinnie since they are a long distance couple

FUN OVER THE PHONE

thank you for the request !! i hope you enjoy <3

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, praise kink, cussing, lmk if i missed anything !

summary; long distance can be rough on people, thankfully you and vinnie know how to ease the tension

fresh out of the shower, you wrap the towel around you and walk to open the bathroom door slightly to air out the bathroom a bit.

you lived alone so you didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing you naked. after opening the door, you start your night routine, skin care, brushing your hair and your teeth, and just getting ready for the night.

as soon as you finish up, you drop the towel to put on your pajama clothes but are soon interrupted by your phone ringing.

“hey ba—oh,” vinnie stops mid sentence when he realizes you’re not in frame. “sweetheart?”

you peak your head above the counter just enough for the blonde to see you. “hi my love.”

you finish putting on your top while you hear vinnie talking, making you laugh to yourself.

when you jump back up into the camera view, vinnie has a wide smile across his face.

“nice panties, princess.” vinnie smirks, making you cover your front as if he hasn’t seen you naked before.

although, that was months ago. you and vinnie are long distance, he’s in LA while you’re in seattle for college.

it’s rough at times, but it makes seeing each other in person a lot more special.

“shut up and come tear them off me.” you don’t know where the confidence came from since you just tired to shield yourself moments ago, but vinnie smiles.

“that something you want?” his tone is teasing, you know what he wants, and you want it too.

walking to your room, you set your phone against something so vinnie can see you fully.

you stand in front of your phone, the smirk on vinnie’s face never leaves as he watches you pick up the waistband of your panties and pull it down a bit.

pulling them back up to rest on your waist, you can tell vinnie’s rolling his eyes at you right now.

“wish you were here.” vinnie says breathlessly, and you can only imagine what he’s doing on the other end of the phone.

you crawl onto your bed and get under the covers. “you just wanna rip my clothes off and fuck me senseless.” you tell him matter of factly.

vinnie groans. “not true,” he says. “maybe a little.” you then hear him whisper.

“i heard that, hacker.” you tell him, smiling as you do.

the two of you sit in silence for a minute before you hear a faint whine on the other end of the line.

you wait a moment to see if vinnie would say something but he doesn’t. “baby?” you ask.

the noise is heard again but louder, making you smile and realize what he’s doing. “vin, look up.” you say, and he does as told, looking up at you.

“holy shit,” he breathes out once he sees you had propped your phone up against something on your bed. “you’re so fucking beautiful.”

you were kneeling on your bed with nothing covering you, on full display for the man on the other end of the phone.

the smile never leaves his face as he watches you slowly move your hands down your body, wishing it was him touching you like that.

you hear shuffling from the other end and smirk, moving your hands farther down your body until you reach the place that needs the most attention.

vinnie watches as you move your hand lower and lower until you reach the end, that’s when he stops you before you can even do anything, and says. “play with your tits for me.”

the way he says it makes you even more wet than you already are. moving your hands back up your body, you see vinnie smile when you push and squeeze your tits together.

“fuck,” the man on the other line moans, and you can hear the wet sounds as he does, making you more needy. “so good for me, sweetheart.”

you give vinnie a sweet smile then go back to what you were originally doing. you look up at your phone to see your boyfriend with his head back and eyes closed, giving you the prettiest sight.

pushing a finger into yourself, you gasp when you do, making vinnie open his eyes and look at what’s in front of him. he watches you intently, wishing it could be him making you feel good.

all that could be heard is the wet sounds from either end of the call and profanities being moaned out.

“that’s it, pretty girl,” you hear vinnie praise, making you speed up your actions along with him. “look so pretty like this while you moan my name.”

it takes everything in you to not let go right there, you’re not ready to yet, and you can tell vinnie isn’t either.

you watch as his actions speed up, his breathing becoming more erratic, and his head slowly lulling back onto his pillow.

when vinnie realizes he stopped hearing you, he opens his eyes and looks at you. “like this, sweet girl?” he asks in a teasing tone. “like watching me get off to the thought of you?”

you can’t help but let a moan slip, making the man smile. “yeah, i know you do.” he says, pace quickening.

a string of profanities and vinnie’s name rolls off your tongue when you hit a particularly good spot, making vinnie smirk at the camera. “you gonna cum for me, pretty girl?”

you bite your lip and nod your head but vinnie doesn’t take that as an answer. “words, my love.” he tells you.

trying your best to let actual words slip out, you say a faint ‘yes’ to which vinnie tells you that he can’t hear you.

you roll your eyes at your boyfriend and say the word a little louder, making vinnie smile.

“good girl,” he praises. “go on and cum for me, pretty. imagine it’s my cock you’re cumming all over…yeah, that’s it.” he talks you through it and pretty soon is right behind you.

the two of you come down from your highs, chests heaving and sweat dripping from your foreheads as you do.

you give vinnie a smile and all he wants to do now is cuddle you and kiss your pretty face.

“wish i could kiss you all over, my pretty girl.” he tells you, making your smile grow wider.

you want nothing more than that, but you two will see each other soon.

“i got something for you until then.” you tell him, and he already knows you’re up to something.

“yeah?” he questions. “what’s that?”

you lean up a bit and make sure your head is out of frame so it’s just your chest. you push your tits together once more and vinnie groans.

“gonna get me hard again, baby.” he warns, but it really isn’t a warning.

you giggle, getting back into frame so he can see you. “i love you, vin,” you say, making the man smile. “this was fun.”

he’s sad it’s coming to an end, but both of you have things to do in the morning and can’t talk all night, unfortunately .

“i love you too, princess. sweet dreams, my pretty girl.” he tells you.

the two of you blow each other kisses, saying one last ‘i love you’ and ‘goodnight’ before hanging up for the night.

i’m slacking I KNOW 🥲 but i finally got this out so here it is !!

also i know there’s a demand for more fluff, and there definitely will be, trust. but i also have like 3 or 4 other smut requests rn 😭

but the fluff WILL come, just gimme some time cus ya girl is busy busy

but i hope you all enjoyed, i rewrote it and i like this version better, so i hope you all do too !!

taglist: @forevergirlposts , @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @lovingsturniolo , @slvthrs , @kriissy4gov , @laylasbunbunny , @kayleiggh , @hallecarey1 , @st4rswrld , @supabhad , @visualbutterflysworld , @leqonsluv3r

also thank you again for 300 followers !! i love you all sooooo much 🤍