#I’ll probably do it for practice sake

[doll3tt33]

Write Kai eating y/n out girl. If you’re not confident in it writing that will make you confident. There’s no personality to eating someone out so it’s the easiest. And fingering. Kai is more of a give me head typa guy but who cares he’s dead anyway 💀

HELLO???? HELL-O 😭😭😭😭😭 THERES NO PERSONALITY WHEN EATING SOMEONE OUT HAS ME DEAD

I’m sorry idk why I found this so funny, but I’m also greatly confused??? Like HUH?? Do you want me to write smut? Orrrr is this a c.ai bot request?which would definitely not pass the guidelines-

HELP IM SO CONFUSED. BUT ALSO CACKLING

I remember I tried to write smut like a few weeks ago and god it was sooo cringe. I learnt that horny ≠ good smut writer lmao

[loaksky]

— come a little closer

hockey jock!vi x tutor!reader, fluff / humor / angst / kinda slowburn / smut (18+ mdni!), wc: 16k+ [buckle your seatbelts bc i could not shut the fuck up about vi if i wanted to !]

synopsis: you’re many things; an exemplary student, quiet and well-mannered, loved immensely by those who bother to get to know you, but most importantly, the newfound object of superstar athlete vi’s every affection. or, in other words, hockey jock!vi is lowkey a loser, atrociously down bad, and will stop at nothing to make you hers.

content warnings: language (duh), brief mentions of familial issues, latent insecurity, miscommunication & lack of communication, kissing, groping, SEX! mdni, seriously, i’ll THROW UP!, more specifically fingering (r!receiving), oral (r!receiving), spitting, makeup sex idk, just good old fashioned lesbian BANGING! also! jazz cabbage, lets pretend for the sake of this au that student athlete’s don’t get tested bc i NEED hockey jock!vi to hotbox reader PLS.

fic soundtrack: i could imagine —alina baraz /snooze — sza /tonight — summer walker / pressure — james vickery + sg lewis / wish that i could — umi

author’s note: of course it’d be arcane s2 that resurrects me from my almost yearlong hiatus...pls enjoy this fic even though i’m pretty rusty; she’s been cooking in the drafts for weeks T-T i’ll be answering some (very long overdue) asks and chatting with you guys <3 and finally, this shit is barely proofread bc my brain is fried lol

main masterlist | arcane masterlist

VI HAS A HUGE PROBLEM.

One that supersedes every issue she’d ever given weight to in all of her four (and a half) years of university. Is way larger than twice-a-day practices on and off the ice that go hand-in-hand with studying so hard to make sure that her grades don’t slip a fraction. Probably way bigger than the fact that her little sister’s graduating high school soon and she’s trying her absolute best to be as great a role model as she can despite wanting to crack under the pressure. And most definitely bigger than her favorite on-again-off-again fling, Cait Kiramann, who’s rare to come by these days.

Vi has a huge problem, and quite frankly, it’s you.

In hindsight, she’s been relatively good at overlooking you, not that it’d been intentional to begin with, but Vi knows a lot of people. Too many, she feels sometimes. So it's easy for you to slip through the cracks when everyone’s vying for even a shred of her attention.

Perhaps it’s what piques her interest when your orbits finally do collide. Because, admittedly, you know all about Vi. Know that she’s probably one of the most valuable players on the uni’s hockey team (she’s an absolute beast on the ice). Also know that she’s a biomedical physics major and actually incredibly smart. But most of all, you know that not only is Violet a flirt, she’s a player.

Not necessarily that you’ve ever really been on the receiving end, but mostly because her reputation precedes her and you’ve seen it all from a distance. Can't not when the decorated hockey star is such a charmer whether she intends to be or not. Vi has girls both certain and questioning stumbling for a single glance.

You often think it’s pitiful, but it’s not like it’s really your problem.

Until it is.

It all starts at The Afterparty.

Hours after a big victory in the first game of three that solidifies whether the university hockey team participates in the championships, Violet is the star of tonight’s celebration.

She’d sunk the winning shot, and for that she’s being poured shot after celebratory shot. By eleven she’s practically hammered and it’s when her teammate, Ellie, and the captain, Abby, finally show up.

The three of them together, drunk, is like a minefield of obnoxious laughter, dirty innuendos, and rowdy behavior.

And for a while it’s funny, has Vi feeling like she’s on cloud nine, but eventually, the drunken high begins to evaporate and she starts to feel a little overwhelmed.

The spotlight shifts and even though Vi typically preens under the attention, she’s grateful to finally breathe.

With a plastic cup full of water, she’s sliding the back door open and stepping out onto the back patio to take in the cool air for a breather.

She makes a move towards the stairs, but nearly jumps out of her skin when she registers the silhouette at the base of the steps.

“Jesus, fuck,” Vi hisses to herself. “You scared the shit outta me.”

You don’t even spare her a glance over your shoulder, just take a sip from your drink.

“Sorry,” you hum passively.

She catches her breath, doesn’t even bother to ask permission as she drops all of her weight next to you.

The step creaks under pure muscle.

Her strong legs stretch out, elbows settling back against the step up as she waits. And waits. And waits.

The amount of silence that lapses is unusual, uncharacteristic for Vi, especially so because people are typically babbling enough to fill the void when it comes to her.

But you just sit there, nursing your beer and staring up at the stars. The moon hangs half in the sky, softly illuminating the planes of your features.

It’s her first good look at your face and Vi’s definitely drunk, but the immediate thought that comes to her mind is pretty, pretty, pretty. Undeniably and painfully pretty. And not Caitlyn pretty, the only girl she’s ever really used as a benchmark, but intimidatingly so in your own right. Makes her swallow hard, throat bobbing as she watches you unapologetically.

“It’s rude to stare, Violet,” you say simply, eyes finally flitting to meet hers.

Her breath catches in her throat, earthy flecks dancing in your moonlit irises. God, your eyes. Framed by thick lashes and round as you look up at her.

“You know who I am?” she asks stupidly as if point fives of her face aren’t blown up into memes and plastered all over the house.

“Who doesn’t?” you ask, breathing a puff of humorless laughter as you crush the can in your ringed fingers.

And perhaps you got her there, but Vi’s feeling exceptionally small under your gaze despite usually filling out a room. Something about you makes her shrink.

“I— fuck,” Vi stumbles, cheeks red because you’re looking at her with an indecipherable gleam in your gaze that has her squirming. “What’s your name?”

She cringes at herself, rolls the piercing in her nose once, twice, for comfort.

You laugh again, a little more genuine this time because, from a distance, the athlete’s usually so suave, undeniably gorgeous and composed. Right now, the girl in front of you only ticks one of those boxes.

“________,” you offer.

She weighs the name on her tongue, decides she likes it a lot, and tries to shake off whatever this feeling you’re giving her is.

“And you go to school here?” she asks.

You nod once.

“Neuroscience, fourth year.”

“Huh, we’re in similar fields, but I’ve never seen you around,” Vi observes. Because she’s certain she’d bookmark a face like yours, absolutely no doubt about it.

“We had organic chemistry together sophomore year with Dr. Talis,” you say matter-of-factly, like you’re not blowing her mind right now. “And I’m auditing Medarda’s biometry class this semester.”

Vi’s floored.

“Wait, wait, but...” She’s trying to piece the puzzle together, but her brain’s still a little fuzzy, equal parts from the alcohol, but also because she’s caught a whiff of your perfume and you smell so sweet.

“I pop in every once in a while,” you tell her. “But I tutor in that time slot every Tuesday and Thursday, only really go when I don’t have any appointments.”

“Hold on, this is nuts,” Violet says, body easing to face you. You flinch because she doesn’t realize she’s practically yelling. “There’s no way, I definitely would’ve remembered you if that was the case.”

You hum, corners of your lips quirking as you shrug your shoulders.

“Doubt it,” you counter. “I’m nothing particularly spectacular.”

“Nothing particularly spectacular,” Vi repeats under her breath.

And under normal circumstances, she’d be flirting up a storm right now, trying to charm her way into getting you to bite, but this is one of the first semblances of normalcy she’s experienced in a while. No ulterior motives, no exaggerated kindness, no outright asking her to fuck.

Suddenly your phone lights up in your lap and you’re turning your attention to the device.

“DD duties call,” is all you say as you make a move to stand up.

No, this can’t be all she gets from you tonight. Not when she’s been narrowly missing someone like you for the past four years and you’re just now coming to light.

The dormant liquid courage bubbles and Vi’s gently grabbing your wrist to pull you to a stop.

“Maybe I’ll see you around?” she asks, steely eyes liquid as she stares up at you.

You eye the scar on her lip, gaze lingering there before flitting to meet hers.

“Maybe.”

Vi decides that she needs to see you again.

You’d left her with crumbs this past Friday night and she’d spent the better part of the weekend trying (and failing) to cross paths with you again.

“Jesus, you’re down bad,” Ellie chuffs Monday morning on their walk to the campus coffee shop.

“You don’t understand,” Vi defends. “She’s so...so...”

“So?”

“Different, I dunno,” Vi sighs, fiddling with the strap of her backpack as they walk. “We didn’t even talk about much, but that was the most normal I’ve felt around someone in a while.”

Her teammate snorts.

“Probably the gayest thing I’ve heard you say,” Ellie deadpans. “She isn’t immediately trying to munch and you’re already in love. Pathetic.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Vi scoffs as they approach the coffee shop, inside packed full with half-functioning college students so early in the morning. “Trust me, if you met her, you’d—”

The words die in her throat because halle-fucking-lujah, the universe or god, or whatever has answered her every prayer this past weekend as she clocks you a few paces ahead in line.

Ellie follows her friend’s line of vision to find exactly what she’s staring at and she lets out a low whistle when her gaze finds your frame.

From a completely aesthetic standpoint, she can see why Vi’s immediately hooked.

“Hah,” she makes a noise in her throat. “Okay, so maybe it makes sense.”

Vi can’t help but stare because, if it were possible, you were far prettier under the warm lighting of the cafe’s ambiance. The curls of your hair frame your face beautifully and it’s so fucking cute how focused you are on your phone.

“Hate to break it to you, though. That girl’s way out of your league,” Ellie says like it’s common knowledge.

“Wow, way to boost my ego,” Vi mutters drily.

“Just being realistic,” Ellie argues. “If you bag her, she’s easily the hottest girl you’ve been with.”

And Vi can’t really contest that, not when the proof’s in the fucking pudding.

Her body’s moving of its own accord and before she can register her own actions, she’s mumbling quiet s’cuse me’s under her breath as she squeezes between patrons to close a bruised hand over your shoulder.

You nearly jump out of your skin, fumbling with your phone as an earbud falls out.

“Shit, sorry, sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” Vi says quickly.

Your gaze snaps to her, brows furrowing almost imperceptibly before your expression settles.

“Violet,” you acknowledge.

And she realizes that she didn’t really have a game plan coming up to you so abruptly. Had been so focused on actually just seeing you again, that she hadn’t thought through the rest of it.

The way you stare up at her is thoroughly disarming because she doesn’t have the shield of night or alcoholic courage to carry her through it.

“Can I help you?” you ask, but not unkindly.

“Oh, uh, I...” She chances a glance over her shoulder to find that Ellie is watching her from a few customers away, eyebrow cocked and smirk testing. She word vomits before she can think of a coherent thought. “You mentioned tutoring...the last time we talked.”

You don’t even bat an eye.

“I did.”

“You’re also auditing Medarda’s biometry class.”

“I am.”

“I’m...I’m not really doing too hot in Medarda’s right now,” Vi says, brain nearly short-circuiting and freezing up because, lie! She’s doing phenomenally in Medarda’s session and, truthfully, she’s just downright scared to ask you to hang out.

Especially when you look up at her like that.

You shift and she’s swallowing down around nothing.

“Hmm, can’t have that, can we?” you hum.

Vi could melt.

“No,” she breathes out a laugh. “Can’t.”

“You can sign up for a slot through the library’s website,” you say after you weigh the thought.

Vi’s pausing, staring at you like a deer caught in the headlights.

“So I can get paid?” you fill in.

“Oh, right,” Vi chokes. “Right.”

You give her a soft smile before plugging your earbud back in, leaving Vi to rejoin her obviously amused friend.

“You’re fucking joking!”

The librarian gives you and your incredulous roommate a look from the circulation desk and you return it with a sheepish smile from where you’re tucked by a wall of looming floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Maddie,” you whisper.

“You’re telling me that The Violet asked you personally to tutor her?” Maddie asks you, leaned over the tabletop with wide eyes.

“Yeah, cornered me at Brew House this morning and asked me to tutor her in Medarda’s class.”

“Just that?” she asks. “Nothing else?”

You look around in disbelief.

“Uh, yeah?” you scoff. “What else would she want?”

“What else would she— are you serious?” Maddie leans back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest as she gives you a plain look. “You know all about Vi, you’re actually gonna play stupid?”

“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes. “You’ve seen the girls Violet’s fucked, right? Kiramann? The blonde from the tennis team? She’s got a type and you know it.”

It’s Maddie’s turn to roll her eyes and you see the exasperated groan she’s staving off.

“None of that self-deprecating bullshit—”

“It’s not self-deprecating!” you argue. “Not everyone wants to fuck Violet, Maddie. Put me in the number one spot.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t start.”

“All I’m saying is that anyone with eyes can see that Vi’s hot as fuck. That being said, you’re also hot as fuck. Not only that, but rumor has it, she gives the most toe-curling—”

You’re rolling your eyes again, gaze fluttering out the window momentarily only to find that, speak of the devil, Violet’s approaching the library with a skip in her step.

Maddie stops her spiel to trace your gaze and nearly falls out of her seat when she finds the object of your conversation is advancing, fast.

“No fucking way,” you whisper to yourself, pulling up your tutoring log on your tablet to find that, yup, Violet has most-definitely taken your advice and signed up for a tutoring slot.

If the time reads correctly, you’ve got three minutes before she’s due to be taking Maddie’s seat.

Your friend is grinning at you mischievously, stuffing her backpack quickly to vacate the space across from you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” you scoff, slumping back in your seat.

“Tell me how it goes,” she giggles, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stands.

“Maddie,” you warn.

“Love you, see you at home!”

Violet’s strolling into the library just as Maddie leaves through the other doors and try as you might make yourself small in the open air near the research center, her gaze falls on you as soon as she enters.

“Hey,” she breathes once breaches your vicinity.

“Hi.”

A moment lapses before you’re nodding towards the seat before you.

“We can get started whenever you’re ready.”

Right. Right! Vi’s mentally cringing, pulling the chair out with a squeak and dropping onto the worn cushion.

Her eyes are locked, watching as you pull the biometry textbook from your little messenger bag.

“Any particular areas you’re struggling in?” you ask, flipping to a clean sheet of paper in your notepad and clicking open your pen.

Vi combs her brain, tries to think of anything she’s not really grasping in Medarda’s class, but she’s been acing all the exams with flying colors, so she spits out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Logistic regression, probably,” she answers.

“In relation to...?” You tilt your head and Vi’s breath is hitching.

“The Confusion Matrix,” she answers, even though she knows all about it.

It’s only when you start breaking it down from the bare bones that she realizes that she could listen to you talk for-probably-ever.

You obviously have a great understanding of the subject if the way you deconstruct the relationship between sensitivity and specificity (or whatever the fuck) is anything to go by, and she doesn’t realize that she hasn’t even blinked until you’re glancing up at her.

“Am I making any sense?” you ask softly, taking in the almost confused look on Violet’s face.

“Huh?”

Vi snaps out of it, cheeks coloring pink when she notes the way you straighten in your seat.

“Am I going too fast?”

“No, no!’ Vi practically shouts before chancing an embarrassed gaze around the library to find a few wandering eyes. She clears her throat and tries to relax. “No, you’re doing great. I get it.”

You don’t seem convinced, but the faster you get through the material, the faster Violet can leave and you can finally catch your breath.

Because maybe Maddie’s a little right. That while you know, one hundred percent, without-a-doubt, that you and Violet are cut from two different cloths and that you ultimately won’t mesh, there’s still a sliver of want that settles somewhere confined in the pit of your gut.

You don’t know how long you continue before you notice that sun has begun to set in the horizon, but Vi’s effort is unwavering. She’s probably on her tenth practice problem by now and so far, she’s only flubbed once.

You decide to fold your cards first.

“O-kay,” you say, sucking in a sharp breath as you roll your shoulders and squeeze your hands shut so tight your knuckles crack. “This is a good stopping point, don’t you think?”

No, Vi could keep going forever if it meant hearing you talk all night, but the little G-shock wristwatch winks the time and she realizes that the two of you have been going at it for going on two hours and you’re probably exhausted.

“Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you so long,” Vi says sheepishly. “Thanks a lot for your help, I...”

You look up from where you’re shuffling your papers together, pausing when she hesitates.

“I really appreciate you. I know you probably help dozens of people every week and—”

She stops talking when she sees you crack what seems to be the first genuine smile she could get out of you since Friday.

“It’s my job, Violet,” you tell her. “I’m happy to help.”

And she’d done well enough during the tutoring session, had a successful run with the practice problems. You were confident it was just a one and done. Perhaps served as a review for the upcoming exam Medarda had posted on the class page.

But then you see her name in the final time slot on Thursday, don’t really think much of it until you’re tabbing to next week’s schedule for shits and giggles. Tuesday and Thursday are booked through again, her name highlighted in yellow.

You minimize the calendar and pull up the aggregate schedule only to find that every 4 o’clock slot every Tuesday and Thursday’s been booked until the end of the semester.

You refresh for good measure.

“Oh, you’re so shitting me.”

You don’t know what kind of joke this is, if Violet thinks that this is funny, but you’re not amused.

Especially when you’re stalking all the way to the athletic hall, ignoring the wolfish stares from shameless student athletes to whip into the women’s hockey team’s reserved conditioning space.

You find her benching near the center of the room, Abigail Anderson spotting her while the rest of the team engages in various workouts and exercises.

A hush ripples over the weight room as you approach the hockey star, standing at the end of the bench where her knees are bent. One of Abigail Anderson’s eyebrows quirk up as you stand there with your hands on your hips and you hope the chill that runs down your spine as she checks you out doesn’t visibly vibrate your body.

When the barbell nearly crushes Vi’s chest on her last rep, Abby’s quick to help her re-rack and takes the biggest step back as Vi sits up.

Her expression falls and her face pales when she locks eyes with you, your features severe and gaze stony.

“Oh, hey,” she squeaks.

Truthfully, she hadn’t really pinned you as the type to be confrontational. Thought she’d have enough time to build a strong enough story as to why she booked out all of your tutoring sessions when in actuality she panicked when Ellie started grilling the fuck out of her about being a fucking pussy and begging her to just ask you out.

“You have some explaining to do, Violet.”

And she should definitely be embarrassed, not at all turned on, but she can’t help it as she gulps. Because when you stand before her like this, she can easily admit that she’d die for a private version of the view.

The silence in the weight room is palpable and you want to back down, but if this is some running joke and Vi’s going to make a show of humiliating you in front of her teammates, then you’d give her a show.

“Violet.”

Someone in the back snickers, another whistles, and Vi’s cheeks go red.

She’s standing, sweaty hands closing around your biceps as she spins you around and quickly guides you out of the conditioning room and out of her teammates’ line of ogling sight.

“V—”

“I’m sorry,” Violet splutters. “I’m just not really confident in Medarda’s class right now and I don’t trust myself to study alone, plus you’re a really good tutor and—”

“You do realize that those tutoring sessions are added to your tuition, right?” you ask incredulously. “It’s fifteen dollars an hour.”

Vi’s smile is crooked.

“That’s what my scholarship’s for,” she grins.

“Don’t you think that’s a bit excessive?” you try again. “I feel that before an exam for a little refresh is fair, but this would be like relearning the material after every class, all over again.”

“If it’s taught by you, I’ll take it,” Vi says quickly, and you pause because what does she mean by that?

You don’t really have much rebuttal left even though you’d marched up here with a fire under your ass. Vi’s looking down at you with a softened edge in her gaze and she’s wearing nothing but a pair of black sweatpants and sweat-soaked grey tank that reveals swathes of ink that curls up her arms and disappears under the fabric of her shirt.

She breathes out a small laugh when she notices the way your eyes dance.

“Anymore concerns, cupcake?”

Your gaze snaps to hers and her grin widens when she sees you fidget, little pet name obviously eliciting a semblance of a reaction from you.

“N-No,” you stammer.

“Great, see you tomorrow?“

You swallow.

“Okay,” you agree. “See you tomorrow.”

Violet pops into the library at four on the dot.

Her hair’s wet from an obvious shower and you smell her, warm like honey and cedar as she takes the seat across from you.

“Afternoon, cupcake,” she greets, slinging her backpack into the seat next to her.

You give her a warning look, but she just flashes you a toothy smile and nods towards the opened biometry textbook before you.

“What’s the lesson today, Teach?”

And this feels an awful lot like mocking, but you can’t be sure, not when Vi’s been somewhat respectful, sweet even.

“What do you know about the the sigmoid function?” you probe.

“Jack shit,” she laughs.

And maybe you’d find it endearing if the entirety of the situation wasn’t still absolutely mindfucking you at moment.

“Can I ask you something, Violet?” you ask, leaning back in your seat as you cross your arms to level her with as an intimidating look as you can.

“Sure, anything.”

“Are you messing with me?” you ask. “Is this some joke you and your friends are playing? Because I can’t really think of an outcome that would be funny.”

And you’d like to say that the look of horror on Violet’s face is consolation enough, but you know how being loved and being popular can make people act sometimes.

Vi contemplates telling you the truth, that she’s too chickenshit to ask you out, that getting close to you in any other way scares the fuck out of her. That maybe getting you to tutor her will segue into some form of friendship that’ll allow her to ease her way in. And maybe she’s going about it the hard way, but maybe Vi also likes a challenge.

“No jokes, just bad at statistics,” she says weakly.

You’re silent for way longer than comfort allows before you turn your attention to the textbook and Vi’s letting out a breath she doesn’t realize she’s holding.

“Fine,” you give in. “Let’s talk about sigmoid function and practice some applications...”

Vi’s happy to listen, goes through your preselected practice problems with ease (and maybe fucks up a value or two here and there to really sell her need for you). But the sun’s going down again, and it’s nearing six when Vi folds her hand this time around.

It comes in the form of her stomach grumbling in the emptying library and she looks up at you in embarrassment as you crack the first smile of the evening.

“Hungry?” you ask.

“Starving,” she replies dramatically, leaning so far back in her seat, her knees bump yours under the table.

Your toes curl at the contact, heart skipping when she doesn’t make a move to reposition herself.

“Have you eaten yet?” she asks, eyes looking everywhere but yours.

“Not since breakfast,” you admit.

“You like pizza?”

“Only the good kind,” you challenge.

“Beautiful,” Vi hums, shuffling her papers into her textbook and chucking it back into her bookbag. “I know the best place.”

Valentino’s is a hole-in-the-wall right outside of campus, a short walk from the library that Violet leverages as a way to get to know you outside of being lectured about statistical curves and correlation.

“Did you grow up around here?” Vi asks once the waiter sets two glasses of water down between the two of you.

You shake your head.

“No, grew up on the east coast and decided I needed a break from my life there,” you admit easily.

It’s almost as if the facade of professionalism fades away, melting to reveal you.

Vi’s desperate for more.

“As in?”

You look at her for a moment, wonder if you should divulge because you’re not really sure if Vi would get it, but she watches you like she’s hanging onto every single word you say, so you’re spilling.

“My dad died when I was little, left me and three other siblings with my Mom,” you offer. “And I love my siblings. Love my mom. She’s been a great parent, better than great actually, but most of our family disowned me when I came out and it was easier to run away than to deal with it.”

Violet’s expression falls, a furrow settling deep between her brows.

“Wow, I’m, uh, I’m really sorry to hear that,” she says, and she sounds sincere. A long moment lapses before she’s adding, “for what it’s worth, I think that’s very brave of you.”

And you seem a little surprised at the sentiment.

“Thanks.” You smile. “That’s sweet of you to say.”

Vi could turn to goo in this dimly lit booth, stained-glass wall sconce casting a warm glow over your pretty face.

“You—” She sniffs, changes the subject because she doesn’t know if she can do this on an empty stomach. “You like pineapple on your pizza?”

“Oh yeah,” you confirm proudly. “It’s a hill I’ll die on, I’m not sorry.”

“God, marry me now.”

She doesn’t realize she says it out loud until you’re bursting into a fit of laughter on your side of the booth.

“So this is something we can agree on?” you ask, head tilting in the way that makes Vi want to grab your face and taste you.

“Oh yeah,” she parrots instead. “One hundred percent.”

Valentino’s becomes routine just as much as Vi seeing you at four every Tuesday and Thursday becomes routine. It’s always after the Thursday session (because they have a three dollar slice from 6 to close) that you and Vi cram yourselves in the same booth near the kitchen and giggle over half a Hawaiian pizza.

“...And my little sister blew up her science project in the fourth grade—”

You choke on your bite, eyes wide as Violet recalls Powder’s little mishap that sent the entire gymnasium evacuating despite the tiniest fire.

“Now she’s about graduate and start school for chemical engineering,” she says, obviously proud.

“She seems like a smart girl,” you observe, if the countless stories Violet shares with you is anything to go by.

You figure being related to someone as great as the new friend you’ve made also speaks for itself.

“The smartest,” she agrees. “I’m proud of her.”

“I’m sure she’s proud of you too,” you assure her. “You’re a good big sister.”

And it’s in these moments that Vi realizes that she’s in far, far deeper than she initially gave stock. Because these past few weeks, she realizes that there’s a lot more to your big brain and your pretty face. You’re an attentive listener, way funnier than she could have anticipated, and just a lot more laid back than you let on.

That much she finds out after the two of you graduate from emailing with silly sign-offs to exchanging phone numbers and texting. It starts off rather irregular, a coffee order here and there, maybe a TikTok that Vi swears is funny, you just have to watch it all the way through! But then she starts texting you when she’s bored, when she’s in class, before practice, after. Even pops the question that’s been niggling at her since she met you: on a scale from 1 - 10 how down are you to smoke?

Like cigarettes?

no, weed, dummy.

Oh. Hmm. 7. 10 if I’m drunk.

She could not wipe the smile from her face even if she tried.

And then she gets the invite.

Ellie swears it’s her in.

“Jesus Christ if you even consider me a friend, you’ll bang,” Ellie calls from the couch.

“It’s just tutoring,“ Vi argues.

“Yeah, at her place,” she scoffs. “At least test the waters, maybe cop a feel.”

“You’re a pig,” Vi snorts, making sure her laptop and all of the worksheets Medarda’s assigned over the course of the week is in her backpack.

“You’ve been wet dreaming over this girl for months.”

“Fuck all the way off.” Vi’s face warms because her best friend isn’t necessarily wrong.

You’re too hot for your own good, but you don’t even know it and Vi thinks she could die sometimes. Especially when you wear your favorite pair of jeans, the ones that hug the swell of your ass just right. Or swipe on that shimmery lipgloss she swears makes your mouth look edible.

If you were willing, Vi would be all over you, but thinking about taking advantage of the fact that you trust her enough to invite her into your space feels a little grimy.

“Whatever, bang, don’t bang,” Ellie says nonchalantly. “Blueball yourself for all I care.”

Vi rolls her eyes, slings her bag over her shoulder before sliding on her shoes and leaving her friend on the couch with a resounding click.

You live off-campus, maybe a ten minute drive, in a cozy little complex near the suburbs. Your roommate, Maddie, a chipper blonde with a bob, is all too eager to leave when Vi arrives.

“Hi, sorry we couldn’t meet anywhere else,” you apologize as you let her into your space. “Even if the library wasn’t closed, the vet said I have to monitor Pip for the next 48 hours.”

Vi raises a brow.

“My cat,” you clarify.

“Oh.” Vi doesn’t know why she suddenly feels like she’s intruding as she hesitantly toes off her shoes and follows you down the hall.

But she does take the opportunity to take you in in all your glory; all cozy and cuddly in an oversized sweatshirt, plaid pajama shorts and mismatched egg socks.

Cute. So fucking cute.

You spare her a glance over your shoulder and she’s clearing her throat.

“We don’t have to have a session tonight," she says, stopping at the threshold of the living room. “I would’ve understood if you had to cancel.”

You shake your head, give her a soft smile that has her knees feel like jelly.

“S’okay,” you assure her. “A promise is a promise.”

And you do start off studying, shoulder to shoulder in front of your coffee table, but then Pip crawls from his little hiding spot under the TV console to curiously nose along Vi’s feet and she’s a goner.

“He’s so sweet,” she practically wails as he paws at her thigh and nudges against her arm so that he can climb into her lap.

You warm at the sight, can’t help but snap a picture, much to Violet’s dismay.

“Stop,” she laughs. “That picture can’t see the light of day.”

“Why?” you whine, making a show of climbing onto your wooden coffee table to get a funny top down photo of the hockey star with your cat. “You and Pip look so cute together.”

She feigns a scowl even though her shoulders shake with laughter.

“I have a bad boy image to uphold, sweetheart.”

You snort, reach into her lap to scratch behind Pip’s ear, and her heart melts, body warm from her ears to her toes.

“Is he sick?” she asks cautiously, petting him softly.

“Just a little,” you say. “Something some rest and medicine won’t fix.”

It’s how the two of you end up on the couch, study materials long forgotten as Animal Planet plays in the background. Pip’s moved to lounge atop the covers draped over your lap and you’re blowing your nose into a tissue as an especially sad segment about baby animals being rejected by their mothers finishes.

Vi knows she shouldn’t laugh, but you’re too fucking cute and she can’t help but coo at you.

“You can’t tell anyone about this,” you hiccup.

“What, that you’re a big soft baby?” she teases.

“Vi,” you whimper.

And something in her brain tickles because she can’t recall a time you’d ever called her by her nickname, only ever referred to her as Violet and nothing else.

She resists a smile.

“Okay, okay,” she gives in. “Lets change the subject.”

You make a noise of agreement as you cuddle your sleepy Pip.

“I actually wanted to ask you something,” she says, arm slung over the back of the couch, fingers a hairsbreadth from your figure.

Test the waters, cop a feel.

Vi’s not particularly into the idea, but the opportunity’s right there in the way wisps of your hair falls from its hold. Her fingers move of their own device, tucking the strands behind your ear.

She feels you still for the slightest, most imperceptible of moments, but then you’re relaxing, letting her fingers brush from your ear down to your shoulder, then back to where it rests on the back of the couch.

“You doing anything on Saturday?” she asks, really hopes you’ll say no.

“Not that I know of,” you say without second thought.

Not that you really need to. Your tight circle of friends are all alike, tethered to their hobbies and their homes.

“I have a game on Saturday,” Vi starts, fiddling with a little hole in the cushion. “If you wanted to come.”

You don’t agree or disagree immediately, and Vi’s scrambling to soothe over any potential discomfort.

“You don’t have to if you don’t wanna, of course,” she says quickly. “I just— I thought you might be interested in going and I’d really like to see you there and—”

A small little laugh puffs from your lips.

“Of course I’ll go,” you agree easily.

Vi deflates in relief.

“Great,” she sighs. “Awesome.”

Vi doesn’t know why she invites you. More so, she doesn’t know why she tells her teammates that she’s invited you because now they’re whooping and hollering in the locker room, towel-whipping her and sing-songing that their star player’s gonna get laid.

Doesn’t know why she invites you because as soon as she glides on the ice, she’s searching the stands high and low for your familiar figure. When she clocks you nestled in the middle with your roommate and another friend she vaguely recognizes, her heart’s soaring and her stomach’s twisting in knots.

Vi’s never nervous, but somehow you bring out the worst of it.

It only takes a few moments, though. The blare of the horn snaps her back into her zone and she leaves all the noise off-rink. In this moment, all she knows is cutting ice, dodging the other team’s most aggressive players and sinking shot after shot.

It’s nearing the end of the second period when she finally glances at the score.

5—4.

The opposing team’s giving them a run for their money and this is probably one of the tightest matches they’ve played all season. She takes a moment to find you in the stands again, and you’re right where she left you, eyes already glued to her as you hover over the edge of your seat.

She hadn’t realized it before, but you’ve got her number painted on her face and another surge of warmth layers over the exertion.

You give her a thumbs up and she feels like lightning.

They reset and she’s off, like a streak of light in the night sky, she’s shuffling the puck towards the goal.

Then you see the navy uniform barreling towards her, voice caught in your throat as Vi gives the puck one last shot before that damned Jersey Number Six shoves her so hard, she’s flinging into the rink’s wall.

The horn chugs, signaling the end of the second period and the stands erupt in a ceremonious cheer as the playback reveals that Vi had sunk the puck before time.

“Fuck yeah!” you cry out, shooting to your feet to clap your hands.

Vi ignores the instigating chants to fight, only really pays attention to your little dance of excitement as she shakes off the other player and rejoins her team for intermission.

“Fuck, Vi, you got it bad, huh?” Abigail Anderson’s spearheading the teasing once they all return to the locker room at the end of the game.

Vi’s body heats at the thought, isn’t really in the business of denying it anymore, because, you know what? Yeah. Vi’s got it so fucking bad for you, she doesn’t even know what to do with herself. You’re her first thought, her final prayer, and everything in between.

So all she does he shrug, can’t help the grin that splits her lips as she rubs her towel through her sweat-damp hair.

She’s the first one out of the locker room, dressed in some sweats and a pullover, towel slung around her neck as she steps into the tunnel. Your contact’s pulled up, and she’s ready to fire off a text asking where you want her to meet you, but she stops short to see you already leaned outside of the change room’s doors.

“Hey, cupcake,” she murmurs, smiling hard when she finds the smudged number 5 still chalked on your face.

“Hi, Violet,” you return shyly, hands clasped behind your back.

She hears the telltale whoosh of the locker room doors, the chattering of her teammates as they poke their heads out into the hall to be nosy, but she’s guiding you along, throwing a wink over her shoulder as the two of you fall into step.

“Thank you for coming,” Vi says after a moment. “You being here really meant a lot to me.”

You don’t know if Vi’s always been this sentimental, but just never given the opportunity to showcase it, or if she’s just buttering you up, but you can’t help but beam at her with pearly teeth and dimpled cheeks.

“God, Violet, you were so good!” you say excitedly, a little skip in your step. “You were in the rink, skating circles around them, like this, and like this.”

She bursts into laughter as you start speeding down the tunnel, dodging garbage bins and jumping up into the air to click your heels.

Something falls out of your little fannypack when you land, and Vi’s crouching down to pick up the tulle baggie to find a little beaded bracelet with a gold clasp that reads puck off.

“What’s this?” Vi asks, and you stop your shenanigans to turn your attention to her.

When your expression falters and you’re running back to her at full speed, she’s holding the baggie up just a little too out of reach for you, grin smug.

“Is this for me, sweetheart?” she asks presumptuously, even though her heart’s thrumming hard in her ribcage.

You’re on your tiptoes, chest pressed against hers, and god, please! is all Vi can think when your head tilts up, a little defeated knit between your eyebrows.

She milks the fuck out of whatever this is, arm banding around your waist as she returns the baggie to you.

“Maybe,” you whisper finally.

“Maybe what?” Vi teases.

“Maybe it’s for you,” you respond, free hand coming to rest on her chest.

“And what do I have to do to get it?” she asks, voice low.

It makes your body jolt hard as a shiver slinks down your spine because there she is, the insufferable flirt who knows exactly what to say to have your brain turn to mush.

You seem like you’re contemplating for a moment and Vi’s breath is hitching in her throat, wondering if you’re willing to play this cat and mouse game with her.

You smile, something glinting in your warm eyes.

“Puck off.”

Your giggle is maniacal as you slip away, leaving her temporarily stunned before she chases you down the tunnel. And she should expect your speed, especially because you’ve got legs, but it takes her a moment to catch up with you when her practice bag’s thumping on her back like that. Her calloused fingers are closing around the flesh of your hips in no time and she’s pulling you back into her arms.

“Cough it up, sweetheart,” she huffs.

You whine.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” you counter.

“Gimme, gimme, gimme.”

And you give in because Violet’s made you weak. She’s holding out her wrist as you free the multi-colored bracelet.

You barely clasp the closure in the ring before Violet’s stumbling into you, a big burly girl from the other team shoulder checking the fuck out of her.

“Nice job standing in the middle of the walk way,” she bites.

Violet only snorts a laugh.

“Whatever, good game,” she calls.

Whoever she is, stops, levels Vi with a deadly look before her gaze flits to the bracelet you’ve just fixed around her wrist to you who stands frozen into place as the tension crackles between them.

“Cute,” she observes and your skin prickles. “Let me take her for a spin?”

“Violet,” you warn when her shoulders square and she takes a step forward.

She looks torn between walking away and beating the shit out of whoever this instigator is, but one of her teammates is shoving her along.

“Leave it.”

Whatever that was shatters the moment between the two of you and Vi’s taking in a deep breath as Abby trails behind the two of you.

The girl whistles for good measure and you throw a dirty look over your shoulder.

She winks.

You’ve still yet to find out who hosts these parties, but this time around gives you a weird sense of deja vu as you climb the steps with Maddie in tow.

You and Vi had parted ways at the rink, not before extending you an invite to the celebration later in the evening.

You should come, I can pick you up.

But per usual, DD duties call, and you’d smiled up at her despite the lingering pressure from the prior confrontation and promised her that yes, you’d absolutely be there.

Maddie squeals from the step below as you climb the front porch, breaths coming out in puffs of steam.

“You look so hot,” she says excitedly.

You giggle nervously, sure hope you do because you’re freezing your ass off!

“Yeah?”

Maddie gives you an incredulous look, eyelids powdered with glitter and gaze lined charcoal. She’s looking extra cute tonight too and you know that the two of you could fall into an endless cycle of teasing because a certain someone’s probably inside tonight.

“If she doesn’t fuck you before the night ends, I will,” Maddie teases, and you’re warming unceremoniously at the thought.

Because maybe you’ve been thinking about it a lot more recently despite only going into this trying to get through these tutoring sessions and dipping. Especially as of late now that Vi’s made it a habit to FaceTime you after practice, on your walk to the library, dripping sweat and chest heaving.

You’d always seen the appeal, but now you feel it.

You smooth down your asymmetrical skirt and Maddie steps up to adjust your tits in your lowcut lace blouse just as the door swings open to reveal none other than Violet.

“Oh—” Her voice catches as she takes you in.

Maddie gives your ass a little swat and Vi’s gaze is following the movement as your roommate pushes past her to slip inside.

“I was— I was just about to step out. To, uh, to call you,” she stammers.

You breath out a little laugh.

“Here I am.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Here you are.”

Jesus, fuck Vi could burst into flames right now. Your boots hug your thighs and Violet’s not gonna lie, she really wishes it were her head squeezed between—

“You look...” Hot, so fucking edible, downright fuck— “...really nice.”

You smile, but you can’t help the way your teeth chatters.

“Fuck, shit, you’re probably cold,” she curses, warm hands closing around your shoulders to pull you inside. “Why didn’t you wear a jacket? You’re gonna get sick.”

I wanted you to want me.

“Guess I just forgot,” you say quietly.

She looks like she wants to scold you, but instead, she’s pulling down her coat, a big black work jacket, hanging from the banister of the stairs around your shoulders and you’re relishing the residual warmth that lingers there and her familiar scent.

“Can I get you a cider?” she asks. “It’s still warm.”

It hits you as her fingers curl through yours, that Vi’s truly nothing like what you initially thought. She’s sweet, and she’s respectful, and she’s everything you could ever hope for.

You freeze at the thought, and Vi’s glancing at you when she’s tugged to a stop.

“You okay?” she hums.

Your eyes search her face, gliding over the scar on her lip and the one slit through her eyebrow. The gold hoop pierced through her nose glints under the lowlight and her thick lashes flutter as she looks down at you.

You give her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes because wow, you’re in deep.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, give her fingers a squeeze for good measure.

When she finally secures you a mug of steaming cider, she’s guiding you to her group of friends that occupy the living room.

You only recognize Ellie, her best friend and her roommate, and Abby, the captain. Everyone else is a jumbled mix of names and faces and you stick close to Vi as she settles into the left corner of the couch.

You make a move to sit on the armrest, legs crossed and hands folded around your mug, but Vi’s spreading her legs and pulling you into her lap before you can effectively protest.

Her warmth immediately engulfs you and it takes every ounce of self control not to curl up into a ball in front of all her friends and classmates.

As they recap the game and catch up with each other, you remain hushed, eyes flitting from person to person as they speak. Toes curling whenever Violet’s voice vibrates in her chest as she talks big about sports and the hot teams this season.

You’re caught off caught when Ellie’s directing a question towards you and you barely register.

“What do you like to do?” she asks you.

All eyes audibly shift to where you’re cozied up in Vi’s lap, cider empty and abandoned on the side table.

“Uh.”

Your words are lodged in your throat because you’re so used to talking Vi’s ear off about your interests (namely, Animal Planet and your son Pip), showing her your little craft projects you like to do in front of the television on a weekend evening (you’d taken a break from the scarf / hat combo you were knitting to finish the bracelet you designed for Vi), and yapping about some obscure film you’d watched while finishing said projects.

But here, now, you don’t know what to say. Not when this isn’t your typical crowd and you don’t know what to expect from her friends.

Vi must feel your hesitation because her digits are slipping into her jacket, fingertips ghosting the small of your back as she presses a palm against your spine to smooth the tension there.

It’s okay, is a silent insinuation.

You give her a look from the corner of your eye before you turn your attention back to Ellie.

“I don’t do much,” you offer honestly. “Just starting my old cat lady duties early, I suppose.”

Ellie laughs benevolently.

“You have a cat?”

“Yes, his name’s Pip, and he’s basically my kid.”

“Cute,” Ellie coos. “You got any pictures?”

And you seem to light up, spare Vi one more glance as you dig in her coat pocket to produce your cellphone, charms jangling as you power it back on to show Ellie the lockscreen.

“I contemplated naming him Toothless from—”

“—How To Train Your Dragon!” Abby fills in from across the couch. “That’s such a good ass movie.”

It warms Vi to the bone, seeing you and her friends nerd out. Seeing them put in the effort because they know she likes you and seeing you reciprocate because, well, you’re you, and you just need a little warming up.

She doesn’t know how long you and her friends chat for until you’re shifting a little and turning your attention back to her.

“Can you show me the bathroom, please?”

Her gaze flits to her circle, and they’re smirking, obviously under the impression that this must be some sort of code the two of you concocted.

She ignores them, and most importantly she ignores the way her pulse jumps when you stand from your seat and perch between her legs, offering both of your neatly manicured hands to her.

This is getting fucking ridiculous.

The bathroom is tucked under the stairs near the front of the house and she stands post outside the door as you finish up.

It’s only when you’re poking your head outside the door sheepishly that she stands up straight.

“Can you help me with my zipper?” you ask timidly.

She puffs a laugh, slips in through the space you crack for her to find you holding the two sides of your skirt together.

And she knows she shouldn’t look, but the space allows her to see the pink lace of your panties. She’s shoving her tongue in her cheek, focusing on lining up the seams and pulling up your zipper as you hold the fabric taut.

“Thanks,” you whisper, looking up to see that Vi’s impossibly close to you in this cramped little powder room.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” she croaks, leaning against the counter as you wash your hands.

She thumbs the hem of your skirt absently.

“I like this,” she admits, gaze trailing up to meet yours. “You look pretty.”

Your ears burn, unable to meet the smolder of her steely eyes. You’d probably find that her pupils are blown wide if you did. Instead, you’re watching her mouth, lips stained cherry and tongue coming out to wet the dry patch.

You hold your breath as you reach across her for the hand towel, but her hands find your hips, teetering into dangerous territory as she moves almost close enough to slip her hands under your skirt.

“You’re not gonna say thank you?” she asks, watching you through hooded eyes.

A nervous giggle bubbles.

“Thanks, Violet,” you murmur.

“‘Course,” she agrees easily. “You gonna wear it again?”

You bite.

“If you ask nicely.”

She licks her lips again, body flexed as you allow her to press you closer. One of your hands splays on the counter behind her, the other brushing over the blooming bruise on her jaw.

“Can I?” she husks.

You don’t need to ask for clarification, not when her nose is nudging yours and your breaths are mingling.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “Pl—”

The door rattles with the ferocity of whoever’s knocking on the other side.

“Hurry up in there, I gotta piss!”

To your dismay, the two of you don’t talk about Saturday night. And things’s aren’t particularly bad, but something’s definitely shifted and it’s driving you nuts.

Vi’s on the ice practicing the following morning and after classes on Monday, so you wait for your session with bated breath on Tuesday. You try extra hard despite every voice of reason telling you that you’re reading into it too much.

Vi smiles at you easily as she drops into the seat across from you, pulling out her biometry textbook without so much as a peep about the fact that the two of you almost kissed in whoever the fuck’s bathroom that was over the weekend.

You’re staring, hard.

Because that familiar feeling’s coming back. The seedling of doubt that had rooted in the beginning about Vi’s intentions with you. She’d done a good job of weeding it out over the weeks, of dismantling whatever image you’d built of her in your head, but it plants itself again.

She’s squeezing your hand across the table and your gaze flits down to her rough fingers. That’s when you notice it, the bracelet, still fastened where you clasped it on game night.

You relax a fraction.

“Everything okay?”

You smile, something small.

“Yeah, good,” you assure her.

The rest of your tutoring session is uneventful, goes off without a hitch. And you’re shameless in admitting that you hate to see her go as she walks you to your car in the student lot near the library.

You’re grasping at straws, clearing your throat before she closes your door for you.

“Uh,” you squeak. “Do you want to come over?”

Vi’s pausing, hand still on the edge of your door as her lips twitch.

“Like right now?”

You nod because you’ve already pulled the trigger.

“Like right now,” you confirm.

She checks her wristwatch, sighs heavily because fuck yes, she’d love to come over right now, but Anderson and Williams are expecting her for a strategy meeting with the coach and—

“Sorry,” you say quickly. “You don’t have to, I know we only really—”

She pinches your cheek before tucking some of your hair behind your ear.

“I can’t tonight, sweetheart, I’m sorry,” she says. “But tell you what, if you’re willing to free up your Friday night, I’d really like to plan something.”

Your heartbeat skips.

“All yours,” you say without missing a beat.

Vi’s grinning wide.

“Perfect, drive safe,” she bids. “See you tomorrow.”

And you don’t know why you’re so fucking high strung, not when Vi hasn’t done anything to make you doubt that this isn’t all in your head, but it only gets worse as the days go by.

It doesn’t come to a head until Thursday, when your tutoring slots are miraculously empty until Vi’s and you receive an email from Medarda to meet in her office after her string of lectures.

“Afternoon,” the older woman greets, smiling warmly at you as she lets you into her office. “Just wanted to check in with your audit and request any feedback you have.”

You think for a moment before shaking your head.

“Nothing in particular that I can think of,” you say easily, then add with a laugh, “feel like I’ll be a professional by the end of the semester.”

“Why do you say that?” Medarda chuckles as she logs into her computer.

“I have a student sitting every Tuesday and Thursday for tutoring in your class,” you reveal.

She gives you look crossed between surprise and amusement.

“Really?”

“Yeah.” You giggle at the distant memory of Vi’s expression in the weight room. “She seems to be picking it up well enough, though.”

“Huh, every Tuesday and Thursday?” she asks, fingers flying over her keyboard. “I must be doing something wrong.”

“I’d hardly say that,” you say. “When Violet booked all my sessions, I thought it was a joke, but I think she’s just really dedicated to doing well.”

“Violet?” Medarda repeats, hands stilling over her mouse.

“Yeah, Violet, on the women’s hockey team?”

Your professor’s eyebrows twitch.

“Why would you— huh. Weird,” she comments.

“I admit it was a little strange, but—”

“Violet’s a consistent top scorer on the exams,” Medarda shares. “She’s been top of the class since the beginning of the semester.”

And it’s like the world stills as she reveals that information, fragile pieces shattering as the gears start turning in your brain and you try to put the puzzle together.

You glance at the clock, find that you’re due to meet Violet in half an hour.

“Uh, if you’ll excuse me,” you say politely, try to ignore the concerned expression etched on your professor’s face at your sudden departure. “It was nice chatting with you. If I think of anything feedback-wise, I’ll be sure to email you.”

And you’re running.

Vi’s in the locker room after practice, toweling off after an extra long shower because she’s been looking a little extra forward to seeing you today, but perhaps that’s everyday as of late.

She’s hooking the bracelet you gave her back on when her phone vibrates and she’s practically diving into her locker when your text tone bleats.

sweetheart: I have to cancel your session this afternoon. I’m sorry.

Her expression screws up.

everything ok? can i do anything for you?

sweetheart: Personal things to take care of. I’ll see you next week.

I’ll see you next week.

But what about tomorrow? She’d been working so fucking hard on tomorrow, on finally pulling her head far enough out of her ass to ask you to give the two of you a shot.

She sets her phone down, slumps down on the bench as she turns her wrist and takes in the smooth glass beads of the bracelet.

She sighs. Hard.

You hole up all weekend long, put your phone on do not disturb, and try your best to get whatever this is out of your system. But you’re a slave to your emotions and you can’t help but check your messages every time you know Vi’s free.

It’s a single text on a Saturday night, one that surprises you because you know she has practice now that the big game’s fast approaching.

violet <3: hey sweetheart, just checking in. i know you said you had a few personal things going on, but i’m here if you feel like you need someone <3

You’re texting back before your better judgement can stop you.

Just been a little stressed. You wanna come over?

.

.

.

Then you add, We can smoke.

Vi’s sending you three running emojis and you crack a smile at your screen before realizing that you need to shower.

You lay out some clothes beforehand, ultimately settling on last Saturday’s skirt.

Vi’s giggling as you fumble with the wrapper, rolling it with clumsy fingers because, truthfully, you don’t do this often, but she shuts right up when you don’t break eye contact as the tip of your tongue slides across the seam to seal the joint.

She’d picked you up with a Sprite and a slice to split from Valentino’s, throat drying as you bounded down the stairs in the same fucking skirt that had her touching herself after she’d gotten home from the party, guilty and wound tight. Now the two of you are tucked away behind some abandoned strip.

“Ready?” Her voice rasps as you pop the end between your lips and she brings the lighter to ignite the end for you.

It burns as you inhale and Vi’s thighs squeeze together involuntarily. She’d smoked with you twice before, both times on the roof of your apartment building and at a reasonable distance. But now, she knows what your body feels like, almost knows what your lips taste like.

You take a few more puffs before offering it to her and the smoke begins to plume to fill the space of her little coupe. It’s moments like these, tucked away from prying eyes, that it’s just you and Vi.

Not Vi, the supposed womanizing hockey star, or you, the nerdy homebody tutor. Just the two of you, two souls trying to get through university and carve your paths.

“I aced Medarda’s exam this week,” Vi says softly, jay pinched between her fingers as she watches you with lowering eyes.

“Oh, yeah? I wonder why,” you quip in return, face impossibly close to hers despite the console between you.

“I have a smartypants tutor that does an especially good job when she’s motivated,” she answers.

Your cheeks flame, but you don’t back down. Vi’s been extra good at pushing your buttons and flirting hard as of late, and maybe you’re a little more than willing to receive and reciprocate, but the two of you have been toeing the line, yet neither of you have taken the leap.

This moment, however, feels like it could be it. Like you’re going to find out what the fuck all of this even is.

“I have to meet this tutor of yours,” you play along. “She sounds like a miracle worker.”

“Among other things,” Vi teases, sucking in the smoke and blowing it through her nostrils.

“Like?”

“She’s also funny as fuck,” she hums. “A big baby when we watch Animal Planet.”

You narrow your eyes at her and Vi lets out a little laugh that makes your toes curl.

“Uh-huh?”

“She’s really fucking pretty too,” she says quietly.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she affirms. “Kind of pretty that makes you wanna do bad, bad things.”

You smile falters as a shiver rips down your spine and before you know it, Vi’s putting out the joint before climbing in the cramped backseat of her car to spread her legs.

Doesn’t even give you a moment to process before she’s pulling you on top of her and allowing you to settle comfortably in her lap. Her hands run up your thighs and disappear under your skirt to grab the fat of your ass.

You breathe out a little giggle as your slender fingers come up to cup her jaw.

“Think my tutor’ll be mad at me?” Vi murmurs, nose brushing yours. “‘Cuz I really, really wanna kiss this pretty girl in my lap right now.”

You let out a broken little sigh when her hips buck.

“Maybe she’ll forgive you,” you whisper. “I know I would.”

And that’s all the affirmation Vi needs from you before she’s taking the plunge and slotting her lips with yours; kissing you with so much fervor, you’d think she needs you to breathe. She tastes like mint and weed and you can’t get enough.

Vi’s all-consuming, her kiss a delicious mix of teeth and tongue. And, god, her hands. Rough and calloused, but gentle in the way she explores your body. It isn’t until she’s snapping the band of your thong and her fingertips ghost the seam of your sticky heat that you’re hyper-focusing.

“Mmmph, Violet, Vi—” Your voice cracks as she breaks from your lips to map a series of kisses from your jaw, to the juncture behind your ear, down the column of your neck. “Wait.”

She stops, hands pulling from under your skirt like you’ve burned her. And perhaps you have, branded nearly every part of her because she can’t really think of a sound moment if you’re not there.

“Sorry, sorry,” she shudders as the arousal ebbs through her tightened body. “I—”

I’m caught up. I’m losing it, and it’s all your fault, and—

“Violet,” you swallow, fingers toying with the collar of her varsity sweatshirt. “I have something to say.”

Her throat bobs and her grey eyes gleam like ash in the lowlight of the backseat of her car. The windows are smoked out and it’s exceptionally warm, equal parts sexual tension and another thing Vi can’t quite pinpoint.

“Yeah, anything,” she assures you, hands resting on your waist instead. “You can tell me anything.”

One of your palms settles over her chest, right where her heart is and you suck in a sharp breath.

“I— uh, I really like you, Violet,” you admit quietly. “A lot more than I think I’ve ever liked someone in a long, long time.”

Oh.

Oh. Here it comes, the big fat rejection. The coming to your senses.

“But?”

The look on your face is devastating and Vi’s scared.

“I have to know that if I give you a chance, you won’t abuse it,” you hiccup, and wow, that’s definitely not what she expects you to say, but fuck does it leave a sour taste in her mouth.

“Abuse it?” she repeats, face crumpling.

“Violet,” you sigh.

“Abuse what?” she husks.

“I know you—”

“Do you?” she scoffs, a wave of irritation washing over her as she looks you with disappointment. “What gave you the idea that I would ever even dream of taking advantage of you giving me a chance?”

“You don’t necessarily have a spotless record, Violet,” you say, voice edged. “And I know that I’m not your usual—”

“Not my usual what?” The venom in Vi’s tone is uncharacteristic, but this is not at all how she expected tonight to go and she’s frustrated. “Not my usual type? You internalized all this shit that people say about me even though I’ve been trying to get you to see me for months.”

Emotion clogs your throat because a small part of you knows that Vi’s right. She’s never given you an outright reason to doubt her interest in you, but it all just seems too good to be true.

“Sue me for wanting to protect myself,” you choke, climbing out of her lap and back into the front seat. “Especially because I know that you don’t actually need help in Medarda’s class.”

And that catches Vi off guard. You see as much in the rearview mirror when she pales.

She clambers back into the driver’s seat.

“Who told you that?” she asks, not even bothering to deny the fact.

“I mentioned that I was tutoring you in passing when Medarda asked for feedback on her class,” you respond, crossing your arms over your chest. “She asked why I’d be doing that when you’re top of all her sections.���

Violet’s voice is stuck in her chest.

“And then your past hook ups parade around campus like a reminder that—,” you cut yourself off, obviously hurt after bottling this all up. “And it isn’t any of my business, nor are we anything enough for me to plausibly upset—”

“Yes, I lied,” Vi admits quietly. “But only about one thing.”

Your breath catches.

“You’re right, I don’t need help in Medarda’s class. I lied about being clueless and I signed up for tutoring even though I didn’t need it,” she says.

“Why?”

“You know why,” Vi huffs. “From the moment I met you, I knew.”

It’s a glaring insinuation that makes you crack.

“No one ever says it out loud, but I know what everyone thinks,” you choke. “Violet’s fucking that loser?”

“You really believe that?”

“God, Violet, I don’t know what to fucking believe,” you cry out. “My life’s fucking fine and dandy and then you show up and make me fucking question everything I—”

Vi lets out a humorless laugh, can’t even look at you and it could make you sick.

“You’re so fucking loved by everyone, even those who won’t admit it,” you croak. “And you’re incredible at everything you do, turn everything you touch to gold, and I’m just...”

Vi’s brows furrow.

“You’re what?”

“I’m me,” you whisper meekly. “I’m just me and you’re you, and I just don’t see what makes me so different.”

And Vi realizes that she’d read it all wrong.

“Look at me,” she says softly, fingers tracing your jaw.

You knuckle your tears away, make a petulant noise in your throat.

“You wanna know why I booked all your stupid tutoring sessions?” she huffs. “Because I really fucking like you, ________. And it’s beyond wanting to fuck you even though god knows I’d fucking die if you let me. It’s so much more than having you physically. Because I’ll take being just friends with you if it means having you around. I don’t give a shit about anything else but you.”

It’s the most sound declaration you hear from the girl in the semester you’ve known her and it makes you cry.

“You make me feel so fucking normal and you remind me that I don’t need to be anything else but me,” she breathes. “And I get where you’re coming from, I hear you. I just really hope you hear me too.”

“I do,” you whisper. “I’m just—”

Vi squeezes your thigh, takes your hand in hers and brings your knuckles to her lips.

“Let’s get you home, okay?” she offers gently.

Vi only has one more game before the championships and she won’t lie and say that this limbo with you has her feeling like she’s going to be ill.

You’d cancelled her tutoring sessions this week, told her that maybe the two of you needed to spend some time apart and that she was clearly doing a number on you. So she agrees, tries to give you space to work through what’s weighing on you.

sweetheart: Good luck at your game tonight, Violet. I’m rooting for you.

She really wishes you’d be there, but she knows you need the time alone.

thanks, sweetheart. i appreciate you.

“Alright Vi, we have fifteen til puck drop,” Ellie says carefully, has been front row to everything transpiring between you and her best friend.

Vi tucks her phone away in her backpack, unhooks your bracelet from around her wrist and fastens it to the handle of her bag, and grabs her stick from the rack before she lets her teammates jostle her into the tunnel.

And she wishes she could lock in, clear her head and get into the game, but all she can think about is you.

It’s a narrow victory once the game ends, but she can’t find it in herself to celebrate, especially not at the kickback afterwards because fucking Sev and her assholes are there.

“Where’s your little dime piece?” she taunts.

“Fuck off,” Vi warns, obviously not in the mood.

“Shame,” she whistles. “She looks like a fucking weirdo, but she sure does have a fat ass—”

Ellie’s fist cracks so hard across her jaw.

“She told you to fuck off,” she hisses.

Sev spits the blood in her mouth on the toe of Ellie’s shoe, fists bunching the collar of her sweater.

“Keep that fucking energy on the ice because I’m gonna wipe the floor with your fucking pissbaby team.”

You wake up on Monday morning to a text from Vi and a handful of notifications from Instagram.

violet <3: can i see you this week?

You open Instagram.

sev.94 has requested to follow you! sev.94 has sent you a message request!

Your brows furrow, opening the message request hesitantly. There’s a few DMs and a video from this Sev person.

sev.94 hey pretty, sorry to text you like this. sev.94 just thought you should know the kind of person your little girlfriend is sev.94 sent a video. sev.94 i don’t really do relationships, but i’d take your mind off of it if you let me.

You’re playing the video, quality grainy and audio blasted. You don’t know what you’re looking at at first, it’s dark, and there’s so many voices. But you see skin, see the outline of a girl’s naked back, delicate and arched in pleasure.

You think this Sev person’s just fucking with you, playing some stupid joke with a shitty punchline as someone’s hands snake around to palm the flesh of the unnamed girl’s ass, but then you see it.

The bracelet.

Vi going to lose her shit for two reasons.

(1) Because you haven’t responded to her message despite your read receipts being on, and (2) she can’t fucking find the bracelet you’d gifted to her.

She’s barging into Ellie’s room, shirtless and hair dripping.

“Jesus, fuck, do you knock?” Ellie hisses, buds she was in the midst of grinding scattering across the floor.

“I can’t find the bracelet she gave me,” Vi says quickly.

Ellie’s face scrunches.

“Huh?”

“The bracelet ________ gave to me,” Vi says. “I hooked it on my backpack before practice on Saturday but it’s not there anymore.”

Ellie’s expression morphs, eyes narrowing in thought.

“Maybe you misplaced it,” Ellie offers. “Regardless, we practice tonight, I’ll help you look for it.”

Vi’s chest is tight, doesn’t want to admit that the stupid little bracelet means way more to her than she lets on. She only ever takes it off when she’s on the ice, won’t risk losing it when she’s got a target on her back and everyone plays rough.

It turns out to be futile when they enter the rink and she retraces her steps only to come up empty-handed.

This, she realizes, is the start of a very long week.

You should’ve seen it coming, really. Don’t know why you tried to psyche yourself into thinking that Vi could ever really want something with you when the world’s her fucking oyster and she can have anything she wants.

And you want to feel bad when she texts you intermittently through the days, checking in, offering to meet you, anything. But part of you is angry, unforgiving, tired.

You could’ve gone the rest of the school year unscathed if she’d just left you the fuck alone, but she pried and she tugged and she settled, and she made a home inside of you and you hate that you let her.

xxxx: i really miss you.

You block her number, block her social media, and even though finals are imminent, you now know that Vi’s been playing you for a fool this whole time and you cancel every last one of the sessions she’s booked.

You hope she’d get the message, figure that you’d caught onto her little game and aren’t willing to play anymore, but she doesn’t, that much is clear when you’re finishing up your two thirty session and find her stalking into the library just as the student leaves your table.

“Are we going to talk like adults or are you going to keep acting like—”

You don’t entertain a response, just pack your bag and sling the strap over your shoulder because the tears are bubbling and you don’t trust yourself not to break.

“Seriously?” Vi bites, hot on your heels as you throw all of your weight against the library doors and suck in the icy air.

“Leave me alone, Violet,” you warn.

“No, fuck that,” Vi spits, hand closing around your bicep. “You don’t— You don’t get to make me fall for you and then try to leave with no explanation.”

“Fuck you,” you whisper.

“What?”

“Fuck you, Violet,” you hiccup, yanking your arm from her grasp and putting as much distance as you can between the two of you. “I hope you and your friends got a good laugh out of it.”

Her face is screwing up and if she wasn’t confused before, she’s definitely confused now.

“Listen, I can’t fix something if I don’t know what’s wrong,” Vi argues. “I’m so fucking lost right now.”

You hate how believable she is. How the thought of hurting you seems so inconceivable to her. But that grainy video was clear enough.

“I hate you,” you murmur. “I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

Your name comes out broken, like you’ve wounded her. But you’ve officially folded your hand, won’t dare look her in her eyes because the both of you know it’s not true.

The championships roll in fast like a tide and neither your or Violet are ready for it.

You hear they’re live streaming the game, it’s the most anticipated one in the season. Piltover Stallions against the Zaun City Tigers. A part of you wishes you could support them, but then you’re starkly reminded that you’re a laughingstock amongst them.

The library on a Friday night is as quiet as can be, the hum of the fluorescents background to the voices in your head that are loud. You’re so engrossed in the study material that you don’t realize someone’s making a beeline for you until they’re knocking on the tabletop.

Ellie Williams stands before you in all her lean glory, hands sunk in her pockets as she stares down at you.

“Aren’t you supposed to be playing?” Your tone is clipped, disinterested because you believed that you and Ellie could be friends once upon a time.

“Coach sat me out because I socked one of those dickhead Zaun City Tigers in the mouth last weekend.”

You humph.

“Listen, we don’t have much time left, so I’m going to make this short and sweet,” she says. “Whatever happened between you and Vi is obviously personal and that typically would have nothing to do with me, but she can’t get her shit together because all she can think of is you.”

“And that’s my problem because...?”

“I know that Vi comes off a certain way, but she’s my best friend, like my best friend in this entire shithole of a world, and she’s—”

“No offense, Ellie,” you cut her off. “But if Vi sent you here to plead her case, I think that’s pathetic and—”

“Okay, well maybe if you shut up for three seconds and let me get to my point—”

You close your textbook and shove it in your backpack before standing to signal the end of the conversation.

“Whatever, I don’t have time for this.”

Ellie watches you walk away, takes in a deep breath because wow, you’re a bitch when you’re mad, but she absolutely gets why Vi is whipped.

“Violet’s in love with you.”

And that statement makes you freeze. Tears cloud your vision as your fists tighten around the strap of your bag.

“If you fuck someone else while you’re in love, I want nothing to do with it,” you bite.

Ellie’s brows shoot up.

“Whoa, what?”

“Violet fucked someone else as soon as things got tough, and if that’s the kind of person she is in love, I’d rather be alone,” you say stiffly.

“Respectfully, there’s no way Vi’s interested in getting pussy from anywhere else with how down bad that bitch is for you, but even if she was, I spend over seventy percent of my day with her and know that all she���s been doing the past two weeks is moping over the fact that you handed her ass to her on a silver platter.”

“There’s a video.”

Ellie’s brows must be mingling with her hairline right about now.

She reaches a palm out.

Show me.

You open the DM from sev.94, watching as Ellie’s expression morphs from morbid curiosity to disbelief, to a quiet rage.

She’s handing your phone back to you and grabbing you by your forearm.

“She’s fucking dead.”

When you enter the rink, the ice is tense.

It’s the middle of the second period and the game is tied 3—3.

Your eyes comb the playing area, can’t find Vi’s jersey number in the mix, but finally settle on her on the bench, shoulders terse and obviously on edge.

She doesn’t clock you yet, had given up on the idea of patching things up with you after your last conversation.

“Vi’s been missing her bracelet since practice on Saturday,” Ellie’d told you on the way there, then pulled out her phone to show you the photo she’d taken of Vi passed out in nothing but her boxers on the couch the night of the last game, fucked up and sad. “We went out for like an hour after the game, but that was it. Vi was too fucking in her head.”

The girl from the tunnel, the one who’d been taunting the two of you, you piece together, has been the one behind it all, stirring the pot.

Throughout the end of the second period and all through intermission, Vi doesn’t notice you, too busy trying to get off the fucking bench to survey the crowd.

It’s only during final puck drop in the third period that their coach finally gives in, smacks the back of her helmet and tells her to make him proud that she lifts her head up.

And there, front and center of the student section is you.

Her eyes are wide, body frozen in place as she tries to figure if you’re just a figment of her imagination, but then the horn’s blaring and she’s having to zone back in.

At this point in time, she doesn’t give a fuck if they win or lose, she just needs to get to you.

“Your little bitch looks cute tonight,” Sevika comments wolfishly. “Bet she tastes as good as she looks.”

Vi easily intercepts her pass, cuts between two players as she shuffles it along with practiced precision. She sends the rubber flying and the goalie narrowly misses block.

“Maybe if you played as good as you ran your mouth, you’d wipe the floor with my pissbaby team you big bitch,” Vi calls, resetting in their corner.

And perhaps you’re her good luck charm, the only thing she needed to see to get back into it, because Vi reignites. The adrenaline pumping through her veins fuels every shot, and soon the timer’s buzzing.

7—5.

The roar is deafening, but you’re all she sees in the ocean of cowbells and pompoms.

She barely inches forward before something arcs through the sky and lands before her feet.

Her bracelet.

You watch from the sidelines, the final confirmation as Vi picks up the loop and launches herself at Sevika.

The crowd cheers.

Fight, fight fight!

You don’t know how many swings Vi gets in, just know that she’s flashing you a bloody smile before she skates off the ice.

Ellie emerges from the locker room and you’re perking up.

Most, if not all, of Vi’s teammates had come and gone and you’d been waiting patiently, anxiously, for her to emerge since the end of the game nearly an hour ago.

“She’s the last one in there,” is all Ellie says before strolling off.

“What if...what if she doesn’t want to see me?” you ask hesitantly.

Ellie chuffs a little laugh, doesn’t bother turning as she calls from halfway down the hall, “Find out for yourself, sweetheart.”

Vi’s pulling a tank top over her head as soon as you enter and your cheeks bloom when you catch a split-second of her tits.

She glances up at you, nose bruising and lip busted.

“Hey,” she spares you, stuffing her uniform and skates into her gym bag.

“Hi,” you squeak.

A pregnant pause as you take her in, hesitant to close the distance between the two of you.

“Didn’t think you’d make it,” she observes.

And you don’t really have a bullshit response, know that you had every intention of staying as far away as humanly possible, so you settle on humming your agreement.

“Ellie told me,” she starts. “Why you lashed out on me.”

You swallow.

“And part of me gets it, I really do,” she continues, “but I also thought you had more faith in me than that.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. “Fuck, Violet, I’m so sorry.”

“I told you to free up Friday night a few weeks ago,” she says, shuts her locker door and slumps down on the bench behind her. “I was going to tell you everything, officially ask you out, but then all that shit happened and it caught up to me.”

You take a step forward, and then another, and another until you’re standing in front of her.

“You have to know that I would never do something like to anyone, but especially not to you,” she says softly, taking your hands in hers.

“I know.”

She brushes her lips against your knuckles, pulls you in closer so that you’re standing between her legs.

“You’re right,” she continues, voice hoarse. “I don’t have a spotless track record, but I meant it when I said that I don’t give a shit about anyone else but you. I would give you anything I can if you let me.”

Your hands rest on her shoulders, her chin resting against the plush of your belly as you look down at her, speechless.

“That night, in the car, you said that you didn’t see what made you so different.”

“I don’t,” you admit.

Vi stands, caging you between strong arms as she drops her face into the hollow of your neck. You shiver when you feel her lips press to the skin there.

“We could start off with the obvious.”

One of her hands rests on the small of your back, pulls you flush so that the only things that separate you are the flimsy fabrics of your clothes. The other grabs a handful of your ass.

“I meant it when I said that you’re the kind of pretty that makes me wanna do bad things.”

You gulp, thighs squeezing as her lips part and she bites.

“Vi.”

“You got a giant brain,” she laughs breathily, fingers coming around the fiddle with your belt.

She kisses you, mouth hot and breath warm. It’s better the second time around, no doubt obscuring you from truly indulging.

“Pl—ease.”

“You’re kind and you’re selfless, and you’re my sweet, sweet little crybaby.”

“Violet,” you sigh breathlessly. “Listen to me.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me,” you pant. “Please.”

Violet nearly runs two red lights and whips into your neighborhood on two wheels.

The two of you are stumbling up the stairs and she’s spanking your ass on the last step as you fiddle with your keys and try to find the right one under the dim light of the complex hall.

Violet’s already unbuckling her belt as you turn the key, nearly taking you down as she shoves you inside and up against the front door.

“Maddie home?” she breathes.

“Out of town,” you answer quickly, kicking off your sneakers and pulling your sweater over your head. “Visiting her family upstate.”

“Perfect,” Vi hums. “I’ve been fantasizing about fucking you on your couch.”

“Oh–”

One of her rough hands comes to cup your tit over your bra, her tongue laving over the other while her free hand makes work of the clasp.

You walk her back to the couch, stand between her knees as she flops back into the seat. Her arms spread over the back as she settles in, legs widening to give you ample room to strip.

Her eyes never leave yours as you easily unclasp your bra and shimmy out of your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a tight pair of little lace panties and pink socks that has Vi wet.

“C’mere,” she rasps, pulling you to straddle her lap.

Her lips immediately latch onto one of your pebbled nipples, tongue hot as her hands wander.

“Fuck.”

“Tell me what you want,” she husks, biting down on the swell of your breast.

And having Violet this close, her touch excruciatingly featherlight and tempting, you wind tight.

“Want you inside of me,” you whimper, fingers fixing around her throat. “Please.”

“Yeah?” she eggs you on, lips brushing yours as her palms settle on your ass. “You want me to fuck you?”

You nod eagerly, hips rolling in her lap as her breath pitches.

“Vi.”

Her nickname puffing from your lips makes her crack. You’re wound in her arms, face in her neck as she peels your thong taut, away from your waiting cunt, and runs her fingertips from your slit down to your clit.

“F...F—uck,” you sigh.

“Holy shit,” she marvels, licking her lips when she easily glides through your folds. “You’re really fucking wet.”

You grind down against her, clothed clit catching against her belt buckle. The cool metal sends a jolt through your pussy and you’re moaning loud in her ear.

And Violet really wants to take her time with you, wants to milk the first time she ever gets to fuck you for as long as she humanly can, but she’s still fully dressed and you’re practically naked, perfect tits pressed to her chest and fat ass in the palm of her hand.

She shifts you further into her, so that she can peek over the arch of your back as she sinks her middle and ring finger three knuckles deep into your needy heat.

“Ah, fuck, Violet.” Your voice breaks as she starts pumping into you, your arousal coating her fingers and the sound of her easily slipping through your pussy reverberating through the living room. “Fuckfuckfuck.”

She kisses your jaw, litters them until she’s catching your lips and licking crudely into your mouth.

You cry out when her fingers slip out.

She’s leaning the both of you forward, easing you from her lap and onto the couch as she takes a moment to shuck her shirt off and pull her belt through the loops in one tug.

You watch her through it all, the way the trim muscles of her biceps and shoulders flex as she leans over you, takes you by the ankles and yanks you until your ass is half-hanging from the edge of the couch.

She kneels before you, strips you out of your thong.

You don’t miss the way she shoves the soiled fabric in her jeans pocket.

“Jesus,” she breathes, gaze fluttering between your eyes and your pussy. “You’re so fucking pretty, sweetheart.”

Your toes curl at the praise, fingers closing around where Vi’s holding your legs apart.

“You know how bad I’ve been wanting to taste your pussy?” she rasps, gathering the lewdest amount of spit to dribble onto your clit. When you don’t answer, she’s freeing a hand to slap your slit.

“Nnngh, fuck!”

“Think I’ve always wanted to have you,” she admits. “But it was that stupid party fucking party and that stupid fucking skirt. God, I would’ve fucked you in that skirt if you let me.”

“Yeah?” you whine breathlessly. “Tell me.”

She’s stuffing you again without warning, curling her fingers in a way that has your back arching off the couch.

“Would’ve bent you over that sink and made you watch yourself while I ate you out,” she says easily.

And it’s so fucking delicious, the nasty shit Vi’s saying to you while she pounds your aching heat; the way she finally gives in and tastes you, sucking on your clit like she’s starved and you’re the only thing that can sate her hunger.

Your fingers curl through her hair as you teeter dangerously over the edge, nails grazing her scalp and tugging when she hits the spot deep inside of you that has you keening for more.

“I’m gonna fuckin’ cum,” you choke. “Holy fuck.”

You feel Vi grin against your pussy, watch her with a slack jaw and half-lidded eyes because the sight of her between your legs in your moonlit living room has your insides twisting hard.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” she encourages you. “Cum all over my fingers. Wanna see you gush.”

“Hah, h—” Your thighs tighten around her head, fingers curled so hard in her hair, she moans in a mix of pleasure and pain. “Don’t stop, Vi, please.”

She moans into your cunt, savoring the heady taste of you as you practically ride her face.

The sound that fills the room is downright filthy, the sight that Vi beholds when she peeks from where she’s devouring you equally so. It’s picturesque, the way she has you writhing. A sheen of perspiration glistens over your flesh as she eats you out and it’s a perfect mix of her tongue and her fingers that send you soaring over the edge.

It’s a pitched whine that echos, the staccato of your shaky breathing that sings like music in her ears as you cum. And hard.

Her lashes flutter against the skin of your inner thighs as she peppers kisses there, her lips slick with spit and arousal.

“Fuck, babe,” she whispers. “That was...”

She can’t really choose a specific word, is just mind blown at the fact that she’d just made you cum so hard and so fast. It makes her tense and tingle, a smug wave of pride washing over her as she starts mouthing a trail from your belly, between the valley of your tits, up your throat, to finally press a chaste one on your lips.

You taste yourself first and foremost, but then you taste everything she’s ever wanted to say to you, all the unspoken words and the things she’d been too scared to share. Feel it in the way her hands are roaming, squeezing, caressing.

You breathe a disbelieving laugh, peck her lips again when she pulls away to brush your hair from your face.

“Vi—” Your breath hitches and your eyes glaze.

“I know, I know.”

You wrap your arms around her shoulders, legs hooking around the narrow of her waist as she bears your weight and picks up your boneless figure.

“I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

The sun is warm against your skin when you wake up the following morning, your bedroom bathed in an orange glow.

You feel bone tired, body sore and muscles tight as your arm sweeps the other side of the bed in search of balmy skin, but instead you’re met with cool sheets and swelling dread.

You sit up quickly, find that you’re still naked, and take a moment to asses your bedroom. The bathroom door’s cracked, light off, and everything else is exactly where you left it.

Everything except Vi.

Oh, you think to yourself.

Almost don’t want to leave your room because your empty apartment will be confirmation enough that Vi really did get the last laugh in the end.

But you force yourself out of bed, shrug on an oversized t-shirt before finding the living room just as still as it had been before the two of you had barreled in the night before and she’d left her mark on you.

The only sign that the entire thing wasn’t just a figment of your imagination was Vi’s belt strewn haphazardly on the coffee table.

You feel hollow, almost numb, and even if a persistent part of your brain was consistently telling you that you should’ve known better, the tears well in your eyes because you’d really hoped Violet was different.

You knuckle the tears away angrily, mind racing far too fast to register the door quietly unlocking and the soft footfalls coming down the hall.

“Babe?”

Your gaze snaps up.

Like a vision, Vi’s standing in the doorway, a handful of plastic bags in tow. She’s wearing her clothes from last night and the puffs under her eyes make her a little worse for wear.

She sets the bags down on the eat-in, rounds the couch to take you by the shoulders.

“What’s wrong?” she worries. “What’s going on?”

You hiccup, crumpling in her arms because you were so fucking scared.

“Thought you left,” you croak.

Vi breathes a sigh of relief, blowing out a hollow laugh because her girl’s such a baby.

“You have jack shit in your fridge,” she teases lightly. “How am I supposed to make you a five star breakfast with greek yogurt and carrot sticks?”

You whine.

“Don’t care about breakfast,” your muffled voice sounds from where your face is pressed in her chest. “Just wanted to wake up to you.”

Violet groans.

“You’re so cute,” she laughs, kissing the top of your head.

“I wanna go back to bed,” you mutter petulantly, emotional whiplash making your eyes droop.

“You’re not gonna let me make you breakfast?” Vi picks, smoothing the hair from your face.

Your eyes catch the bracelet refastened around her wrist and you grin softly, taking her fingers to press a kiss to her palm.

She could combust, gaze gooey as she watches you watch her.

Yeah, Vi has a huge problem.

One that’s particular, and overarching; one she doesn’t think she can go without.

And frankly, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

neng © 2024

[aliaology]

RISK

summary: in which you and luke have been exchanging texts and calls back and forth after you stalked his instagram and accidentally liked a post from 2020. now you’re absolutely hooked but is it a good idea?

pairings: lhughes x fem!reader

look at me know. know i shouldn’t do it, but i hunted you down. know you had a girl, but it didn’t work out, know you bought a house, but you had to move out, and

you didn’t really know luke hughes. you knew who he was, due to being really good friends with his brother, jack. but you didn’t know the person behind the name.

so, when jack posted the boy for his birthday, you thought he was pretty. that being said, you clicked the tagged people, his profile, and went on a small little stalking moment.

luke didn’t really post a lot, but as a girl who thought he was cute, you were able to figure out a few things. he had a girlfriend, key word, had. she seemed to be in posts until she just wasn’t.

some of the comments from his friends had confirmed a split by making single man jokes. men.

not only that, but when he was with his girlfriend, they got an apartment together. his name must not have been the one on the lease as you learned from jack about luke moving in.

you continued to scroll through his instagram. going further and further back. you stopped on one photo. it was a cute one of him and his brothers. you double tapped the photo, until you realized it was from 2020. instead of unliking it, you threw your phone to the ground and hid your face away in embarrassment— as if he could see you.

you knew there was no point in taking away your like. he definitely saw it and is definitely wondering why one of jacks mutuals is liking posts from 2020.

you groan against your sheets. how could you be so stupid? your phone dinged. you got off of your bed and grabbed your phone. he texted you.

[ yn.username ] lhughes_06 ill admit i stalked your ig too but liking a photo from 2020? amateur move

holy fuck.

isn’t it fun? thinking i’m right when i’m probably wrong. holding my breath like i met someone, knowing damn well that i haven’t been touched by you.

after that day, messages were sent back and forth constantly. at first, it started as a small convo. you lied, saying your friend had your phone and showed you the picture. you told him you saw jack and liked it so you could use it as blackmail against the older hughes.

luke didn’t really buy it, but for your sake, he pretended. from here, the interactions weren’t that big. you two followed each other. you’d repost his and jacks posts, as a good friend does. he’d do the same.

you’d like his stories, reply to them every now and then. again, he did the same right back. then, you two finally began talking. starting with the fact that you posted on your story a picture of yourself and your best friend.

luke was tapping through numerous stories, landing on yours as jack was looking over his story. you and jack were extremely close, but he had no idea who your girl best friend was.

“dude ask her who her friend is.” jack told.

so he did. then you two didn’t stop texting. it got to the point jack had to force luke to get ready for practice.

[yn.username] lhughes_06 jack here, stop flirting with my brother you freak. he barely moved for an hour so he could talk to you

it’s easy to say that you didn’t in fact listen to his words.

in truth, you were giddy and continued to text the boy—even if you had yet to touch him, or even meet him. how were you jacks friend without meeting his family?

i’m not proud, guess i’m just scared of you shooting it down. you can just talk, and i’ll stare at your mouth. it could be bad, but i wanna find out.

you really wanted to meet up with luke. it was almost sad how desperate you were to meet him. in reality, you really just wanted to touch him. to feel his skin, to feel his hair. you wanted to see what he wore outside of hockey, and in person.

but you were scared. the idea that maybe he wasn’t talking to you, but just replying, was enough to scare you and make you keep your mouth shut.

so every time you both facetime, your eyes are on his lips. watching them move with every word he says, every quirk of the lip when he smiles, every small movement, you’re watching it.

luke caught onto it. he didn’t stop you though—hell he liked it.

in my head, you’re in the car and you’re coming to me and you get to my door and you can’t even speak but i think that it’s sweet. yeah, i think that you’re sweet.

your little obsession with luke continued to grow. making way to begin fantasizing moments like a high school girl would about her crush.

maybe the image of his driving to your house just to see you was a bit of a reach…but then the image of his at your door, seeing you and being speechless—it was cute.

unfortunately, that’s not what was actually gonna happen. you two couldn’t make a plan up for your lives. he was so busy with hockey that he was either in another country for games, or at four hour long practices.

you were also slammed. school was kicking your ass, and if you weren’t at school, you were interning for a law firm. if at neither of those, you were working your job at a cafe to help make money for school.

so in all, you two wouldn’t have the time to see each other. so was this crush.. really smart? or was it a bad decision? to be honest, you didn’t care enough. you practically called him ‘your boy’ to your best friend.

i’m gonna bend ‘til i break and you’ll be my favorite mistake. i wish you could hold me here, shakin’, you’re the risk, i’m gonna take it. why aren’t you here in my bedroom? hopelessly boring without you. too soon to tell you ‘i love you.’ too soon to tell you ‘i love you’

you threw all thoughts that this could be a mistake right out the window. you stopped caring because the urge, the desire for him was becoming unbearable.

so instead of wondering why he wasn’t with you, in your bedroom, you packed a bag and talked to jack. jack was going out of town for the day, so he approved of you going to his apartment to see luke.

you could feel the pit in your stomach as you got closer and closer to the apartment. the anxiousness rising. what would you say to luke? it was too soon to say you loved him, but did you truly care?

you took a deep breath and stepped out of the uber. you thanked the driver and grabbed your backpack before walking away. you entered the apartment, entering the door code jack had given you.

you continued on your small adventure, rushing up the stairs to the forth floor. you panted slightly as you got to the top. it was hard to run up four flights of stairs.

after gaining your breath back, you walked down the hall. you got closer and closer, anxiety rising with every step until you finally stopped in front of the door.

you raised your hand, knocking on the wooden door with your knuckles. it took a moment, but then the door opened. the curly hair boy stood in front of you.

both of you were wide eyed, your cheeks still pink from the small workout you had. this was a big risk.

“i love you.”

and you were gonna take it.

lol hey guys

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

An "early-ish" House MD one shot. House and reader :)

The reader experiences a particular bad night and finds herself stuck in the ER with the one and only Greg House. This could really go either way...

gif is not mine (found it on google)

"Getting mugged wasn’t the worst part about my night"

„I’ll do it“ House took the IV-bag from the nurse before she could argue with him. You on the other hand really didn’t want him near you. However, you knew House well so you decided against putting up a fight and let him take care of you. He made clear that he wanted to watch over you, discussion over. Doctor’s orders. 

Wilson, Cuddy and all of  House’s attendees (old and new) were standing a few meters away from the two of you. The initial shock of you getting mugged and being delivered into the ER with a grade 3 concussion and a laceration to the forehead had worn off but they all felt like staying close. Now, in fact, they were shamelessly watching the scene in front of them unfold. They all knew this would probably be the pivoting point of House’s and your relationship. For a month the two of you had been buzzing around each other. Chase had bets running as per usual. Wilson was sure you would crack first and confess to House how you felt about him. Cuddy on the other hand had put in for „House, taking one more risk for the sake of finally finding happiness“, what can you do, she was sappy like that. There were a few more variants going around in the bookie but those were the two most popular. 

It wasn’t like House or you were denying that you liked each other. It was obvious, the amount of time you spent together and the pile of insiders you shared annoyed everyone around you. But whenever somebody tried to inquire, all they ever got was a 

„Oh, House and me?“

„(Y/N) and me?“ 

„We just hang out, we watch the same crappy shows and like to piss of the pizza place with weirdly specific orders.“ 

„Seriously, we are just friends!“ Even Wilson couldn’t coax a confession out of his stubborn friend. 

Funny thing, neither of you wanted to screw things up by showing your cards. 

„This will sting a bit,“ House was sitting on a chair in front of you taking your hand in his and carefully inserting an intravenous catheter. His hands were steady and his movements well practiced. You still hissed a little when the needle pierced through your skin and you could feel House’s blue eyes immediately on your face. He wanted to say something but reconsidered busying himself again with attaching the tube of the IV- bag to the IV-line. 

„Sure didn’t sting as much as the rest of the night,“ you snatched your hand away as soon as House seemed satisfied with his work. 

„And no, I am not talking about getting mugged.“ The harsh tone of your voice surprised you. Yes you were hurting because of him and yes you were out of your mind from the pain in your chest, your heart, but still. Wounding House didn’t give you any pleasure or redemption. It still sucked. All of it. Stacy sucked, their kiss sucked and what you heard him say, well, that just was the cherry on top. 

House didn’t get up from his chair but remained right in front of you. The chaotic atmosphere of the ER didn’t seem to phase him at all. Slowly he went to take your hand again but you brushed him off. 

„Fuck off House. I don’t want you near me.“ For a second you could see the pain in his eyes flash, then it was gone again. Replaced by his usual wall of safety guards. Safety guards he had let slowly and steadily dissolve with you. He wasn’t going to give up that easily now.

„Yeah, sorry I’m not going anywhere.“ House sounded firm even though you were sure he was confused and so out of his comfort zone. Him prolonging eye contact and taking a „stance“ was all just an act to hide his feelings and ever growing insecurity. For once the doctor was actually scared to lose someone. Displaying confidence and nonchalance was all he knew how to do right now. 

„What? I am not being funny here.“ You leaned further back, unconsciously creating more distance between you and House. Why didn’t he just leave already. Did he take some weird pleasure in knowing that you had overheard his and Stacy’s conversation? That earlier this week you had seen them kiss in his office? You were so angry and hurt that getting mugged almost felt like a nice distraction. 

„Just go!“ You made a flinging motion with your hand and your voice broke from all the emotions. House scrunched up his face and squinted his eyes at you like he simply didn’t understand what was going on. He was confused by your actions. He was here, he was taking care of you and still you wanted him to leave. 

„Why do you want me to go away?“ His voice was small, he seemed sincere which made you want to jump out of your skin. Sad, hurt, humiliated all of which you were feeling right now but deep down there was also frustration and anger. All those month of casually hanging out and spending time together. Was that all a lie? It had felt so genuine. Could you have been so wrong about another person? You sure weren’t stupid. You had never thought of yourself as the one that would change House. You knew many had and tried to be friends as well as love interests and they had all failed more or less miserably. You simply enjoyed being around him as he was. You liked being his friend. Oh how very stupid you felt now. Friends? Your thoughts were interrupted by House’s voice. It sounded modulated like he was really trying to stay in control of his demeanor.

„(Y/N)?“  

Irritatingly for you the shock of getting mugged, the thudding pain in your skull and Stacy’s performance had taken a big chunk out of your self-control. There just wasn’t anything left to hold back the emotions from spilling over. Tears blurred your vision and your mouth twisted into a thin line. At least you were able to hold back that sob building in your throat. You knew you couldn’t take it much longer, something had got to give. 

„Because it hurts to look at you.“ And there it was. Painfully aware of all the people around you and House blankly staring at you. Was he in shock? Your voice had been so much more penetrating than you had anticipated. Shit, where did all that pain come from all of the sudden? Why weren’t you able to look away from those blue eyes? Was he even breathing? Were you breathing? Why was it so quiet? Was anyone breathing? 

„I love you and you crushed my heart!“ Those eight words had slipped out of your mouth before you even noticed they had formed on your tongue. Your own thoughts betraying you and that at the worst time. Why was your face so wet? Then the blue eyes were gone. House remained unnervingly silent. He had however gotten up from the chair. The doctor’s back was turned towards you. His right hand held onto an unused IV-stand. Was he steadying himself? Might be his leg but the pain had gotten a little less excruciating of late. You knew that because he had confided in you. Hot tears were still running down your reddened face while you stared at House’s unmoving figure.

Behind the two of you, at the reception counter of the ER, Wilson shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He huffed out a breath and ran his hand through his hair. Cuddy throw a cautious look at him. They both felt bad. Usually Chase’s bets didn’t turn into such a flurry of dramatic events. Wilson could sense the rising uneasiness of his colleagues around him. He cleared his throat and leaned back a little, turning his head towards Chase. 

„Now that it happened I don’t know why you let me place that bet.“ Chase’s arms were crossed in front of his chest. He silently stared at (Y/N) and House. 

„This is totally upsetting and those are our friends.“ Wilson knew the Aussie doctor wouldn’t let him off the hook that easy and he especially wouldn’t lend any emotional comfort. 

„So you forfeit?“ Chase raised an eyebrow at Wilson. 

„I,“ Wilson hesitated, his moral compass was spinning like a merry-go-round. 

„No, I don’t. I just think we are terrible friends.“ 

Chase snorted and rolled his eyes. 

„Just because we took on bets doesn’t mean we aren’t their friends. Or well (Y/N)’s friends, I don’t know about House. Does House actually have friends?“ 

Wilson looked dumbfounded and left Chase hanging for a good comeback. The other doctor took that as enough of an answer. Just then Chase‘s pager went off. He glanced at it quickly and with another nod towards Wilson, he pushed himself off the reception counter, he had been leaning against and left.

The machines, next to the bed you were sitting on, started to beep loudly. Immediately House turned around and checked for the reason of the onslaught of alarms. A nurse standing nearby also rushed over. You followed House’s line of vision and quickly realized that your condition hadn’t suddenly taken a turn for the worse. The pulse oximeter that had been clamped onto your left index finger had slipped off. You hadn’t even noticed. 

„It’s okay I got it.“ House waved at the nurse stoping her in her track. She just nodded and went back to scribbling on the chart of another patient. House’s hands took a hold of our left one, he slipped the pulse oximeter back on. The noise stopped and the numbers on the screen went back to somewhat normal at least as far as your non existing medical understanding told you. He kept holding your hand and you let him. Your outburst and confession had drained you even more and you were left longing for contact. 

„There, looks good, normal heart rate. So it can’t be crushed.“ House smiled openly at you although it seemed a little too assertive. You couldn’t believe your ears. 

„You are kidding me right?“ Once again you wanted to pull your hand away from his but he held on. It took you a few seconds to untangle your fingers from his, he watched you struggle a bit bevor slowly letting go. You sniffled and tears started to come anew. The way he kept looking at you made you nervous and confused. House’s weird behavior was something you clearly couldn’t deal with. The moodiness, rude arrogance and sheer lack of interest in other people’s necessities you could handle – but this? This was worrisome. 

„House, please just – just leave.“ It sounded like a plea, your tremulous voice not helping. However House didn’t respond. He looked back up to the monitors again, busying himself, biding his time. You knew he wasn’t gonna leave. A frustrated huff through your nose. Shaking your head in disbelieve you let its weight sink down into your hand, rubbing over your forehead. 

„Why do you call me House?“ Your head snapped back up. The blue eyes were on yours again. 

"You never call me House.“ He said his own name like something foreign, something he had to get his tongue acquainted with.

„It’s always been Greg,“ his eyes fell and you had to bend forward a little to still hear him. „Right from the beginning. You only ever use House when you talk to other people.“ To say you were shocked was an understatement. 

„Seriously? This is what you are going with?“ The harshness of your tone was matched my House’s soft response. You had never seen him so abashed.

„Just tell me,“ a quiver at the right corner of his lips, „Please?“ This, you weren’t able to deny. House was either being sincere in all his coyness or he was playing you to get what he wanted but whichever it was, you couldn’t stop yourself from indulging him.

„I call you House because everybody does and I am not special.“ Fast and prompt, no time to think about your choice of words. This day wasn’t gonna get any worse, was it? Might as well lean into it then. House was right though. You had always preferred calling him Greg. You understood that at work people referred to him as House. It was both formal and still not too friendly for coworkers. In the beginning you hadn’t actually really noticed that hardly anybody besides you called him Greg but when you realized it you couldn’t help but ask yourself why. The nature of your relationship (or friendship to be correct) was purely pleasure. You didn’t share anything work related and so the version of House you hung out with struck you more as a Greg kind of House other than a House House. 

„To call you House is safe,“ you said and in your head you added: and it is less intimate. With a heavy sigh House took a few steps and let himself sink down next to you on the hospital bed. Both your feet were dangling down and you followed the swinging motion with your eyes. For some reason a comfortable silence fell over you. The ER was, now as before, busy but the different sounds and monotonous buzzing worked like a coat slipping around the two of you. There was enough room to stay still in all the hectic. For the next couple of minutes House and you quietly agreed on taking a breather. 

The dull thud of Houses cane on the floor made you jerk up a little. He was going to say something. Repeatedly hitting the and of his cane on the floor was a tell-tale-sign of the Doctor building up to saying something. You had noticed that relatively early, but you weren’t sure if he realized you knew. House would mold the words in his mind until they satisfied him enough to actually say them. You also knew that he only ever did that if he was nervous or stressed out about what he wanted to say. 

„(Y/N), I am not with Stacy. Even though you might think that after what you heard tonight.“ Ah of course, yes, this would definitely make House uncomfortable. You just stayed silent, letting him continue.

„And trust me I know it sounds cliché but it is not what you think it is.“ He half laughed at that, it sounded studded with frustration and a hint of desperation. 

„What is it then? Because it really did sound like the two of you were making up.“ As soon as the words left your mouth you wanted to take them back. You really didn’t want to know. It was enough for you to know that it hurt. 

„You know what? Don’t answer me,“ you lifted your hand, pressing the palm of it against your eyes in an attempt to dampen the headache. It didn’t work and you let your hand sink down again, resting it on your upper thigh. 

„Do you love her?“ Since you had arrived in the ER you had tried to avoid looking at House but the question you had just put to him demanded you to make eye contact. House didn’t immediately answer. His long fingers scratched absentmindedly at his stubbled chin.

„No I don’t and I haven’t for quite some time.“ There was so much conviction in House’s voice that you didn’t doubt he was telling the truth. 

„What I said, what you heard,“ the doctor kept looking around while continuing to explain himself. Scanning over the room but hardly registering what was going on. 

„I wasn’t talking about Stacy and me. But without the proper context I can see how you might think that.“  He snuck a peek at you trying to gauge how this conversation was going. Only the white knuckles of his hand holding his cane in an iron grip gave aways how tense he was. Throwing your hands in the air you could only shake your head. This whole situation was ridiculous. 

„You kissed, I saw you, in your office.“ you said bluntly. You were ready to start a fight. Leaving everything pent up wasn’t gonna work. If House thought he could fool you with this talkative demeanor you were sure as hell gonna make him work for it.  

„I know and I felt awful“ Small voice, barely more than a murmur and two absurdly blue irises. Aaaaand there you crumbled again. You involuntarily mimicked House’s wispy smile.

„Didn’t look like that,“ you muttered. He grabbed your hand carefully avoiding the IV catheter. His fingers drew small patterns on the back of your hand. 

„Well do you believe me if I say you got that the wrong way around as well?“ 

Yes, your thoughts screamed and you wanted to threw yourself into House’s arms. Instead you pressed out a, „No.“ 

But he let you have that one, making sure you could keep your dignity. 

„Fair enough“. House intertwined his fingers with yours, squeezing them a little. He sucked in a breath of air.

„But,“ drawing out the vowel, House made his point anyways,“I’m sorry, you do have it the wrong way around.“ Was that his teasing tone? Was he actually mocking you? To be fair you could feel the tension draining from your body. If anyone would ever try to convince you that House wasn’t able to understand emotions and steer them empathetically you would just laugh in their face. Which is also what you did now. You laughed because frankly you were overwhelmed.

„Whatever. This is humiliating.“ You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or to laugh.

„She kissed me.“ House added, looking all dopy and school boyish. You gaped at him. House was carefully maneuvering this sinking wreck off a ship into saver waters and you knew it but it was still annoying you. Why was it working? 

„Oh well that changes everythi–„ You jumped right on board and countered sarcastically but House cut in.

„Yeah no, I know it doesn’t.“ He agreed with you however he wanted you to fully understand the circumstances. 

„The only reason I let her was because I am shit at feelings.“ House shrugged his shoulders.

„What? Sorry you lost me. You are shit at feelings so you kiss your married Ex-wife?“ Was he kidding you? Your hand slipped away from his and you tugged your arms tightly around your middle. You didn’t want to fell like that but anger and frustration where front runners again. House got the message. When he talked next the lightness in his voice was gone.

„If you are shit at feelings you might not be able to trust them. Sometimes I need actions to fully understand them. Actions I get and I am good at them.“

Your mouth opened but potential words were stopped by an index finger pressed against your lips.

„Ah ah ah wait!“ The Doctor removed his finger and continued.

„So when she kissed me I was able to say goodbye,“ he paused for a second, “ because there was nothing. No love, no anger or other sentiment. It was only a kiss which I did not particular care for. It cleared my head.“ 

„Hmm.“ Not as articulate as you would have liked to be but you couldn’t manage more, so you just kept listening. 

„I wanted to come after you. I…“, House hesitated then he turned a little more towards you. He wanted to see your eyes but you kept your gaze low. 

„Your face. The way you just turned around and left.“ His voice was husky.

„I told Stacy then, what I just told you… and to be fair she was pissed. I should have know that she wouldn’t leave it at that.“ A bitter chuckle slipped from House’s mouth and he shook his head. The doctor was lost in his thoughts for a second. Your voice pulled him back into the ER.

„So when you asked me to come by to talk, you in fact wanted to talk?“ Maybe all was not lost. Maybe just, maybe this day had still something good to offer.

„Oh yes, yes I did and other stuff“ A cheeky grin appeared on House’s face and he softly bumped his shoulder agains yours. When you looked at him he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

„Shut up,“ you snorted. This man is unbelievable. 

„Not funny yet?“ He lightly poked your thigh, testing the waters. 

„Nooooo,“ you said, returning the shoulder bump. 

You looked at each other, wary smiles meeting. House drew in a heavy breath then. He still had a few things he wanted to say, get out of his system. 

„Stacy rang the doorbell 10 minutes before you. She must have left the door ajar. And the rest, you witnessed first hand.“ He scratched the back of his neck and proceeded.

„Annoyingly not all of it. Seeing that we wouldn’t be having this conversation now.“

You nodded slowly, processing. Neither of you knew what to say now so you just kept sitting next to each other. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward it just seemed necessary to pause for a bit. 

After a few minutes you suddenly had this weird feeling of being watched. You became more aware of your surroundings and let your eyes drift. Behind you, at the reception counter you saw House’s attendees as well as Cuddy and Wilson jump apart like they had been caught red handed. All of them were making it a point to be terribly busy looking. 

„I can’t believe they are all still watching us.“ You nodded towards the group of doctors. House followed your line of sight and you could feel him growing a little bit uneasy. There was no smile on his face and his features seemed more in control. You didn’t want to see him so gloomy after there had just been some kind of light at the end of the tunnel. You wrapped your hand around House’s elbow and tucked a bit. His head turned back to you. You were surprised to find sadness and, what was that? Remorse? Etched into his face.

 „They are making sure I don’t crush your heart twice in one night.“ With the bitterness in House’s words came also a promise. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make this work and find out what this between the two of you could be. He acknowledged how his actions from earlier had hurt you. Everything about this conversation was so out of character for House that you had a hard time believing you weren’t imagining things. Maybe your concussion was worse than you thought and you were having crazy hallucinations. Could you have hallucinations from concussions?

„Yes, but that is highly unlikely in your case, since the CCT-scan did not pick up any intracerebral bleeding.“ 

„What?“ Surprised you looked at House. 

„Did I just say that out loud?“ The doctor smiled at you amused and your stomach fluttered. You always had liked it when he bestowed you with one of those uncensored grins. 

„Yup.“ House confirmed. Chalking it up to the most ludicrous day you have had in a while you decided to ignore reason and precaution and just trust your gut. You let your head sink against House’s shoulder and immediately the side of your body melted agains him as well. Before a sigh of relieve could escape from you House had already wrapped his arm around your waist. This was nice. It felt good and easy. 

After a while you could feel the weight from House’s head on yours. You watched your feet dangling again. The calm breathing and the warmth between the two of you had you feeling drowsy in no time. A stifled yawn from you and House nuzzled his face into your neck.

„Yeah, me too,“ he whispered.

„How much longer ’til this thing is through,“ you asked quietly while pulling at the tube of the IV-bag. House lifted his head and frowned at the IV-bag. He considered his answer for a couple more seconds and before hopping off the bed.  

„Maybe 10 more minutes. We can speed it up a little.“ The doctor reached for the drip and adjusted the roller clamp. Immediately the solution in the IV-bag started dripping faster and he turned back towards you, sitting back down. 

„I don’t want to stay in the hospital,“ You sighed. Next to you House was blowing raspberries, obviously thinking something over. 

„You should with a third degree concussion. But I can take you home and make sure you’re okay.“ House offered looking at you expectantly. You considered your options and figured that the perspective of having House fussing over you wasn’t too bad. Your stomach rumbled loudly. An idea came to you then.

„Do you still have that pizza I brought, at your place?“ House had to chuckle at that and his laugh lines appeared. He nodded.

„Yes I do, at least I didn’t eat it. I went straight after you this time.“ House looked at you carefully, in all the joking there was also truth. Apparently he was satisfied with what he found in your eyes because he continued lightheartedly.

„If nobody broke in and ate it, it should still be sitting on the kitchen counter. “ 

„Great!“ You exclaimed happily.

„I could eat, really had a long night. How about you?“ You really wanted to get out of the hospital and leave the last few hours behind you.

„Nooo, completely normal night. So relaxing.“ House earned a slap from you on his shoulder. 

„Ouch! Don’t hit the cripple.“ His fake whiny voice made you actually laugh out loud and you were so relieved to feel somewhat normal again. 

„How about instead of taking me to my place, we go to yours and warm up that pizza then? I can be on concussion-watch anywhere right?“ With that you slowly slid off the bed, carefully steadying yourself. House watched you, assessing if you really were able to leave the hospital.

„I was kinda planning on that anyways.“ He stood up as well and undid the tube from your IV-catheter. The IV-bag was empty. With his hand he indicated for you to sit down once more. While he removed the IV-catheter from your hand you were happy to run along with the banter. 

„Sure you were. What if I’d refused.“ You cocked an eyebrow at House, challenging him. Even before he spoke you knew there would be some kind of quick-witted comeback.

„Oh I would have just kidnapped you.“ He shrugged his shoulders casually, a big fat grin on his face while he peeled off the adhesive tape that had kept the IV in place. 

„Of course.“ You laughed. The needle in your arm was gone and House pushed down some gauze on the exit wound. After a few seconds he put a plaster over it to keep it in place.You used his focus to study his features. There was still that smile on House’s face, though it had faded a little. You wondered what was on his mind. The heaviness that started to appear on his forehead couldn’t be from doing some routine doctor stuff. Just when you wanted to go for it an ask House what was going on, he mumbled your name.

„(Y/N)?“ Was his voice shacking? Your heart sank. Please don’t mess this up. Your imagination started to run wild and you feared for the worst.

„Hm?“ you took a deep breath, bracing yourself for the inevitable let down.

„Can you not… can you maybe?“ House leaned closer to you. He seemed oblivious to your emotional turmoil. The whispering made his voice sound rough. With another sharp intake of air he took the plunge. 

„You are special, you know. To me you really are special.“The words tumbled out of his mouth practically rolling over each other. You scooped them up, holding them, they felt soft and warm to the touch. 

„So could you maybe not do the House-thing like everyone else?“

You smiled at him. This was big. House just committed to talking about his feelings leaving himself unguarded in the process. 

„Okay, Greg.“ 

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

hiiiiiii how are you? big fan of your work

i would like to make a request.

modern royal au with prince!bucky who is mean to reader bc of their arranged marriage but she is too sweet and lovely with him

angst angst but maybe fluffy happy ending?

thanks!!! xoxo ❤️❤️❤️

Forgive Me » Bucky Barnes (AU)

Pairings: Husband/Prince!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader

Summary: Bucky has been mean to you because of yours and his arranged marriage, but he comes to realization about the way he’s been treating you and he hopes that you’ll forgive him.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff ending, language, mean!Bucky, arranged marriage, insults, crying, kissing, pet names

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anonymous person who requested this🩵 also, I imagined Bucky as Jack Benjamin for this. I hope it’s what you imagined🩷

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

“Can you hurry up?” Bucky asks annoyed.

“I don’t know which dress to choose.” You walked out of the closet. “Which one should I wear? The red one or the blue one?” You asked, holding the two dresses in front of you for Bucky to see.

“Does it matter? Just pick one and put it on before we’re late.” He says.

You hummed to yourself and looked at the two dresses.

“I think I’m going to wear this one.” You say, laying the red dress on the bed.

“Great. Now put it on and let’s go.” He says.

You put the blue dress back in the closet and put the red one on. You stood in front of the full body mirror, rubbing your hands over the material to smooth it out.

“I’m ready.” You tell him.

“Finally. Let’s go.” He says.

You and Bucky walk in the building hand in hand, but he shows you no emotion or attention. He smiled at people as you two walked by them.

“I’m gonna find Steve.” Bucky says, pulling his hand out of your hold.

“Ok. I’ll see you later.” You say with a smile, kissing his cheek.

Bucky didn’t say anything. He just walked away, looking for Steve. You went to the bar and got something to drink.

“Y/N!” You heard a familiar voice from behind you.

You turned around to see Bucky’s sister. You smiled and gave her a hug.

“You look absolutely beautiful tonight. Your dress is beautiful as well.” Rebecca compliments.

“Thank you!” You smiled. “You look beautiful too.” You complimented her.

“Where’s my brother?” She asks.

“Talking to Steve.” You tell her.

“Oh.” She frowns. “I thought you’d be by his side tonight.” She says.

“He probably needs some guy time with Steve. He’s been a little grumpy lately.” You tell her.

Bucky glanced at you from the other side of the room. He could tell that you were gossiping with his sister. Every time you and Rebecca see each other, you two catch up with each other. He excused himself from his conversation with Steve and made his way to the other side of the room, where you and Rebecca are.

“Oh hi, James!” Rebecca hugs her brother. “We were just talking about you.” She says.

“I bet you two were. I’m gonna steal my wife from you for a moment.” Bucky says.

Rebecca caught the way Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the conversation you were having with her. Bucky practically dragged you to an empty hallway.

“I have to make an appearance since I’m the prince and you have to be by my side since you’re my wife.” Bucky explains. “Be on your best behavior.” He says.

“Will do, honey.” You say with a smile.

Bucky cringed when you called him honey, but you didn’t catch it. He held his arm out for you. You linked your arm with his and the two of you walked back out to the main room. Everyone’s attention was turned to you and Bucky. They smiled and applauded the two of you. For the sake of the cameras flashing, Bucky kissed you on the lips. It wasn’t a sweet kiss or anything. There was no spark in it either. It was just a bland kiss with no emotion. People talked to Bucky almost all night. Some people talked to you too, but Bucky did the talking for you before you could open your mouth.

“I had fun tonight.” You say, getting in bed next to your husband.

“Yea.” Bucky says.

“Did you have fun?” You asked.

“Yea.” He says again. “Can we go to bed without playing 20 questions?” He asks, leaning over to shut the lamp off.

You could tell he was tired. He laid down on his back. You laid down next to him, snuggling yourself against his side and laying your head on his chest. He didn’t even wrap his arm around you to hold you.

“Goodnight, sweetie. I love you.” You say softly, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

Bucky didn’t say goodnight to you. He just went to sleep. The next morning, you turned over to wrap your arms around your husband, only to find out that he wasn’t in bed. You lifted your head and looked around the bedroom and pouted. You stretched and rubbed your eyes before getting out of bed to get ready for the day. You smiled when you walked in the living room to see Bucky. You walked up behind the couch, putting your hands on his chest from behind and gave him a cheek.

“You weren’t in bed when I woke up.” You say with a playful pout.

“I’m busy.” Is all he says and moves your hands off of his chest and walked out of the living room.

There was a knock on the door. You opened it and seen Rebecca. You smiled and greeted her with a hug.

“It’s nice to see you again.” You smiled, steeping aside to let her inside. “Do you want some coffee?” You asked her.

“Yes. That would be nice.” Rebecca says with a smile.

You poured two cups of coffee and handed on of them to Rebecca as you sat down at the kitchen table.

“Can I ask you something?” Rebecca asks you.

“Of course. What is it?” You asked, taking a sip of your coffee.

“Why do you let my brother treat you like he did last night?” She asks.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused.

“He’s always mean to you.” She says.

“Bucky isn’t mean to me.” You say with a smile.

“Y/N, I’m your sister in law. You can tell me.” She says.

“I just did, silly.” You say with a giggle.

Little did the two of you know that Bucky was in the hallway listening to your conversation with Rebecca. He scoffed before entering the kitchen.

“Y/N, I need to talk to you. It’s important.” Bucky says.

He grabbed your arm and pulled you up from your seat, not giving you time to excuse yourself from your conversation with Rebecca. He pulled you out in the hallway. Anger was displayed on his face.

“What the hell did you say to my sister?” He asks.

“What do you mean, honey?” You asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.” His jaw clenches. “You were talking about the way I treat you to Rebecca.” He says.

“No, I-” You got interrupted.

“Don’t even try to make up an excuse. You were blabbing your stupid mouth and now I have to clear up what you said to her.” He says.

He walked away, but stopped in his tracks.

“Just keep your mouth shut before you say something stupid.” He says.

Bucky walked in the kitchen to see a shocked look on his sister’s face. She heard every word he said to you.

“Why do you talk to her like that?” Rebecca asks her brother.

“The way I talk to my wife isn’t your concern.” Bucky says.

“It kinda is. If you and Y/N are having marriage problems, you can tell me.” She says.

“My marriage is none of your concern.” He says.

Rebecca just scoffs, not able to get through to Bucky.

“Y/N is the sweetest person ever and yet you treat her like she’s nothing. You’re always mean to her. I’m surprised that she hasn’t left you yet.” She says.

“I didn’t ask for anything of this! I didn’t want to marry her in the first place.” Bucky shouts.

Little did Bucky know that you were still in the hallway. Your bottom lip quivered and tears started to roll down your cheeks. You ran to yours and Bucky’s shared bedroom and cried in your pillow.

Bucky spent the rest of the day thinking about the way he’s been treating you. He was never really happy about his arranged marriage with you, but he’ll admit that you’re the sweetest person he’s ever met. Guilty filled Bucky. He went to yours and his bedroom to see you in bed and reading a book. He gave you a little more space and got ready for bed. He got in bed next to you.

“Can I talk to you?” Bucky asks, his voice is soft.

You bookmarked the page you’re on in your book and put it on the nightstand before turning your attention to him.

“I’m sorry for the way I’ve been treating you. I guess that I’m not used to being married.” He says.

“I heard what you said, Bucky. You didn’t want to marry me. If that’s how you really feel, then I’ll talk to the lawyers.” You say.

“No.” He moved himself in front of you. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that. I don’t want to lose you. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean a word I said. Please forgive me.” He says in a pleading tone.

You just looked at him without saying anything.

“I’ll do anything to make it up to you.” He starts. “We can go on that tropical vacation you’ve been telling me about.” He says.

You took a moment to think about it. You really do love Bucky and you don’t want to leave him.

“I want a baby.” You tell him.

“We can have a baby.” He says with a smile, leaning in to kiss you.

“I still want to go on that tropical vacation.” You say against his lips.

“We can do both, sweetheart.” He says with a smile.

You two kissed once more before shutting the lights off and got comfortable in bed. For the first time, Bucky wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him.

“I really am sorry.” He says.

“I know you are, sweetie.” You say.

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” He says softly.

“I love you more.” You say in almost a whisper.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[leaderwonim]

𝐈 𝐁𝐄𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐆𝐒

⋆ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠. art donaldson x fem!reader, patrick zweig x art donaldson

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. in which patrick zweig realizes he can’t have the one person he wants. ⋆ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞. angst, unrequited love, patrick has a moment of self realization, art is DOWN bad

for some reason, patrick never thought about losing art.

it wasn’t a thought that ever crossed his mind. art was his friend—best friend even, and that was enough for patrick. he loved art, loved him like the sun loved the moon.

then y/n brookes came into the equation. she was gorgeous, there was no denying that in patrick’s heart. one hi! from her made art practically melt in his seat.

“so you’ve been playing since you were 7?” patrick asks y/n, biting his nail.

“stop doing that,” art whispers, shoving away patrick hand from his own self, “i thought you stopped that habit a while ago.”

“old habits die hard,” he smirks, though there’s really nothing to be proud of.

he didn’t know why the habit came back, it just did.

perhaps it had something to do with the girl with the high ponytail that art seemed to fawn over these past few days.

patrick zweig didn’t hate y/n brookes. he didn’t even dislike her. he just didn’t expect for his best friend to slip so easily from his grip.

“churro?” patrick says, his usual smirk plastered all over his face. he slips himself right into the seat next to art, who busied himself in rewatching his old tournaments to catch any mistakes.

“no thanks, y/n says sweets are bad for my stamina.”

patrick raises his eyebrows. “since when did you care about that diet shit?”

art didn’t really care. he just really liked y/n. and if she wanted him to get off sweets for the sake of his tennis career, so be it.

patrick doesn’t even act surprised when weeks later, art donaldson shows up to the court with y/n brookes, now introducing her as his girlfriend with a proud smile on his face, the same kind patrick sees art wear whenever he wins.

he used to love that smile, but now it made his stomach turn.

patrick was sure he wasn’t inlove with art. there was no way—absolutely no way. the idea was ridiculous. but he swore his heart broke a little when he realizes art is no longer his, and probably was never his either.

the problem with y/n was that she loved tennis more than she loved her boyfriend. if anyone had asked her to name the love of her life, she’d say tennis, and then for a brief second, she’d think, and maybe say art.

“you’re just going to sit around and let yourself be treated like that, art?” patrick scoffs. “was it all a disguise? her pretending to be a sweet loving girlfriend at first?”

“don’t say that about her,” art frowns. “i’ll let her stick to her racket and ball until she falls inlove with me again.”

it’s funny how the universe works really.

patrick zweig was inlove with art donaldson, who was inlove with y/n brookes, who in turn was inlove with tennis.

[imtryingbuck]

Weightless

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus-size fem!Reader

Summary: Bucky and yn date and his dad’s nasty to her because of her weight (as always, I’m amazing at summaries.)

Word count: 4,707

Warnings: angst. Bucky’s parents being the worst. Bucky being the best. swearing. insecure reader. modern au. being mocked for having a poor background. mentions of cheating (not bucky or reader) ends in fluff

A/N: remember every body is perfect!

Masterlist

Waking up in the warm embrace of Bucky’s arms, he’s warm breath fanning lightly over her neck tickling her ever so slightly. Trying to shift out of his hold causing him to tighten his muscly arms around her.

“Buck I need to go toilet” she whispered.

“No.”

“What do you mean no?”

“You’re warm” is all he says as he pulls her body even closer to his.

“But Buck I really need to wee, I’ll be right back” promising in hopes that he’d let go of her.

“Okay, promise you’d be right back?”

“Promise”

“Gimme a kiss first”

Turning in the arms of her boyfriends she give him a kiss he released her, getting out of the bed she couldn’t stop the small smile from forming watching as he pouted and made grabby hands at her.

Finishing off in the bathroom Y/n raised an eyebrow at the man-child in the bed who was still pouting at her.

“Hurry, I’ve already forgotten what you feel like”

“Dramatic much?”

“Nope” he smirked.

Climbing back into the bed Bucky wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her bringing her closer to his chest than before.

“You definitely coming tonight, right?”

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea Buck”

“Why isn’t it? Me and you all dressed up, free food and booze, dancing, we even have to sneak off to find a bathroom-“

“Have to?”

“Oh it’s a must baby, I’d probably die if we don’t” he says grinning.

“Idiot”

“Plus I know you already have a dress, Nat told me so…”

It’s true Y/n did have a dress already, Nat and Wanda had dragged her shopping with them both in search of a new dress for Bucky’s parents anniversary party. Wanda had actually picked it out for her and at first she was a bit apprehensive until Wanda squeezed her hand with hers and telling her that the dress was in her size.

The girls all but forced her into the changing room with encouraging words and smiles. Y/n had to admit Wanda did pick out a stunning dress for her to try on and when she stood there finally finding the courage to look at herself in the mirror a small smile made its way on to her lips. The dress was beautiful and fit perfectly; not too baggy, not too tight, even her arms looked alright in the dress.

When she stepped outside to where the girls were waiting their jaws practically fell off. Both telling her that the dress was made for her, making her roll her eyes at the pair. A woman had walked by and complimented Y/n which made her blush and smile shyly at her.

However there was a problem with attending the anniversary party with Bucky. Problem being that she hadn’t been given an invite.

Everyone received a formal invitation with no mention of a plus one, Bucky and his sister had even received a card. Nat and her boyfriend Bruce received individual cards, Wanda and her boyfriend had individual cards, same with Steve and his wife Peggy.

But not her.

And at first she thought it was okay as her and Bucky had only been dating for two years but when Wanda told her that Vis had been invited after them only dating for a few months, it hurt. Y/n wasn’t stupid to the knowledge that her boyfriend’s parents didn’t like her, they made that very clear from the moment she had met them, with the questions and judgemental stares, the remarks about the difference between herself and Bucky’s ex Dot was enough to tell her that they did not like or approve of her or her relationship with their only son.

Winifred tolerated Y/n purely for her sons sake, she made the mistake once of calling her Winnie just as everyone else did and she looked at her in absolute disgust and told her not to call her that, that only family and friends can call her by that name. 

George made comments about her weight from the beginning. His favourite pass time was to repeatedly remind her of how Dot was perfect for Bucky, he once told her that all she was to Bucky was something to pass the time with until Dot came back, and sadly she agreed with his statement.

Bucky bless his heart didn’t know any of this and genuinely believed that his parents liked his girlfriend.

Since she hadn’t been invited the plan was to make out to Bucky that she was ill right at the last minute, so all she had to do was play along for a few more hours.

“The dress is beautiful I have to admit”

“Just like you. Do you want to get dressed here so we can leave together?”

“Oh um my dress is at my apartment, so you can pick me up for there”

“Or I can come to yours and get dressed?”

Shit.

“My apartments a complete mess” she lied.

“And? Baby we’ll go to yours in a few hours have a shower, get dressed ooh can I braid your hair? I love doing it! And we can leave together, that way I don’t have to be away from you for long and I’ll save money for petrol”

Double shit.

There was no way of being able to back out of this now, she knew that she’d have to go to a party that she wasn’t invited too and hope to a higher power that neither one of his parents say anything.

“Okay”

Bucky happily braided her hair after carefully brushing the knots out. He started to learn how to do it after a couple of months into their relationship and now he was a pro.

“All done baby” he says pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

“Thank you Buck”

“Okay, okay go put on your dress, I’m dying to see it”

The smile was no longer present as she looked in the mirror, the dress was no longer perfect, it was tight around her stomach and her arms looked like tree trunks. She looked ridiculous and felt like it.

Tonight was going to be humiliating, she was going to embarrass Bucky in front of his family, his friends and strangers.

“Baby? You nearly done?”

“I-“

“Babe? Is everything alright?”

“I need you to close your eyes for me Bucky”

“Ooh I like this, okay my eyes are closed my love”

Slowly opening the door her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Bucky standing there in his black suit, hair done perfectly and his eyes closed with a soft smile on his lips.

“Baby, can I open my eyes now?”

“N-no. No please don’t”

“Y/n? Sweet girl what’s wrong?“

“N-nothing Bucky. I-um-I just remembered-“

“Fuck. Baby you… you’re stunning!”

“What?”

He moved closer to his girlfriend, eyes full of adoration and a hint of lust. “You’re so beautiful, and this dress is so gorgeous on you. I’m so lucky to have you by my side”

Bucky always knew how to make her feel beautiful and confident even in her darkest of moments when the voices in the back of her head get to loud for her to ignore, in the two years of their relationship there’s only ever been two occasions where she didn’t believe him. The first being when the two had sex for the first time and he kept the light on, she had told him he could turn the light off so he was more comfortable, his face contorted in confusion and he reassured her that he wanted to see her as he made love to her, the whole time he spoke words of love and affection. She honestly believed he was lying so he could get what he wanted from her. 

And the second time was right now. Standing here in front of him as his eyes moved up and down slowly over her body, eyes filled with nothing but love and adoration, speaking the words that he spoke daily to her, she just couldn’t help but think that he was lying again.

“Buck, I-I look ridiculous. I think you should just leave an-and tell Nat and Wanda that I fell ill, okay?”

“What are you talking about baby? You look perf-“

“It’s too tight, and look at my arms James. It fit perfectly in the store… I-I don’t know what happened. I don’t want to embarrass you okay? So you go and have fun and I’ll see you tomorrow I promise”

“It’s not tight. Your arms are perfect. Nothings happened baby okay. You could never ever embarrass me, hell even if you wore a bin bag I’d still be so proud to call you mine. Sweet girl if you don’t want to go, that’s fine we can stay here and watch films but I’m not going anywhere without you”

“Its your parents anniversary party Buck you have to go, I’ll be fine I promise”

“So? I’m not going without you doll”

That went on for nearly 30 minutes.

“Okay. I’ll go with you but I’m chang-“

“Nope, you’re staying in that dress beautiful girl. Now get your shoes on so we can leave”

At the venue where the party was being held she couldn’t stop fiddling with her fingers and when her eyes saw a man at the door taking names her stomach dropped.

“Names”

“James Barnes and Y/n L/n”

The man looked up at Bucky and smiled letting him through, Bucky held her hand to lead her in when the man’s rough voice stopped the both.

“Excuse me Miss but you’re not on the list.”

“What do you mean she’s not on the list?”

“There’s no Y/n L/n on here sir”

“There’s got to be a mistake.” Bucky frowned, eyes shifting from her to the man.

“No mistake, I’m afraid sir”

“But she’s my girlfr-“

“Buck, it’s okay I’ll just head home. Enjoy your night” Giving him a quick kiss on the cheek she pulled her hand away, trying desperately to ignore the stares and mumbles from people around.

“Baby, Y/n hold on a second”

“Bucky it’s fine honestly”

“I’ll ring my dad and see-“

“No babe it’s okay really-“

“Y/n-“

“James, about time you showed up” George’s loud voice interrupted Bucky.

“Dad Y/n’s not on the list for some reason?”

“Oh? That’s strange, anyway come on son your mother wants to see you”

“But dad my girlfriend…”

“Oh fine, she can come in too. Now come”

Bucky’s eyes found hers and she tried so hard to get him to see that she didn’t want to do this but all he did was grab a hold of her hand and followed his father.

Despite how large the room was the air was stuffy, it felt like there was hardly any room for people to move around. Overcrowded and her very own personal hell is the best way to describe the hall.

The lingering looks from those around made Y/n self-consciously pull on the dress, she even tried to breathe in as long as she could.

“Son your mother wants to see you, on your own if you don’t mind” George says the last part to Y/n, nodding and sliding her hand out of Bucky’s she smiled at him - well at least she thought it was a smile it was more like a grimace.

“I’ll be right back okay, Nat and Wanda are over there” pointing over to where the two redheads were her eyes followed.

“I’ll see you soon”

Bucky takes his leave and so does she before George’s hand stops her.

“I want to talk to you” not giving Y/n a chance to reply he all but drags her off and away from the sea of bodies.

“What are you doing here? You wasn’t invited”

“B-Bucky made me come” George raises a thick eyebrow and she quickly notice she mistake “Sir”.

“You look horrendous. There was a reason for why my wife and I didn’t invite a disgusting, fat nobody like yourself, want to know why?”

“W-why sir?”

“Our soon to be daughter in law is here and to be truthful my wife and I can’t be doing with your dramatics, again.”

Again. Y/n knew he was talking about the time Bucky had made her jump causing the glass to fall from her hand and shatter on the floor of the kitchen floor. The apologies that slipped out of her mouth none stop as Bucky assured her that it was okay and he’d clean it up, Winifred hissed “your useless”, she tried to pry the dust pan and brush away from Bucky’s hands so she could clean up the glass but all he did was move her away with a smile on his face.

The glares that were given to her by his parents, aunt and uncle made the tears well up and annoyingly slip out. Y/n felt so bad for breaking a glass that didn’t belong to her and even worse as Bucky was the one cleaning it up.

She didn’t dare tell him that she had a shard of glass stuck in her foot.

“I-I-“

“What does he see in you huh? Must be a decent fuck, that’s the only reason we can see him being with you” he taunted, never in the nearly two years she have been unfortunate enough to know him has he ever spoken to her like this.

“It’s embarrassing that you came to a party that you was not invited too. Did you come to see how the rich live? Your parents too poor to keep a roof over the heads for the gaggle of children your mother shot out of her cunt.” Her nose flared at the way he spoke about her mum, normally she would have defended her but George had managed to render her speechless.

“Listen child this so called relationship between yourself and my son doesn’t make sense, he needs a real woman by his side not someone who is clearly trying to be something it clearly isn’t.” His hand reached out to grab her stomach and pulled, flinching as it happened she tried to pull away. “Dolores and James will get back together, they will get married. Matter of fact he’ll be proposing tonight and my beautiful Winnie and I will be happy to have her as our daughter in law. How about you run along back to the hole you crawled out of”

The small patch of her stomach was still in his hand, she knew that a bruise was already forming, he shoved her backwards.

“Go or I’ll call security.”

Stumbling backwards she turned the corner just to see Bucky standing with Nat, Wanda, Steve and Sam. And Dot. Her arm wrapped around Bucky’s as she clings on to him.

Was the pain there because of the realisation that she never stood a chance of being good enough for someone who proclaimed their love for her at every opportunity they had?

Or was it because of how happy he looked?

Or maybe it was because Dot looked up and locked eyes with hers and smirked.

Either way her heart ached painfully in her chest.

Sticking close to the walls Y/n kept her head down so she wasn’t seen by her now ex-boyfriend and his friends and so that the other party guests wouldn’t see the stream of tears flow down her reddened cheeks.

The exit was just in reach when her name was called.

“Y/n-sweetheart what is wrong?” Peggy asked worriedly.

“I-I-…I don’t feel so good. Bye Peggy”

“Y/n where’s Bucky? He shou-“

“Don’t, don’t tell him I’ve gone okay. It won’t matter anyway, thank you Peggy for being my friend for the pa-past two years”

Y/n sees how her eyebrows flick in confusion but before the British brunette can respond she rushes out through the doors she had come through not that long ago.

The slow drum of her heart feeling heavier with each step she took, the laughter and cheers mocking her pain fading in the background as the tears rolled down and off her cheeks.

“Hey ma” greeting her with a kiss to her cheek Winnie’s face lit up seeing her son.

“Oh Bucky you’ve arrived. Guess who’s here too!”

“A lot of people” Bucky chuckled.

“Dottie’s here” she beamed up at him.

“What? Why is she here?”

“She’s family Buck, stop being rude”

“Did you know that Y/n wasn’t on the guest list?”

“Who?”

The frown Bucky wore deepened, she’s met his girlfriend on numerous occasions. “My girlfriend ma-“

“Oh her, I thought she was your friend”

“Are you joking me right now? She my girlf-“

He’s cut off by a high pitched voice that he hadn’t heard in four years, the voice he had no idea how he put up with for a year. The same whinny voice belonging to the woman he was in love with until she broke up with him out of the blue and then a few days later she was dating the guy who spent year’s tormenting him. Brock.

“Bucky! It’s been so long”

“Hi” he mumbles making sure Winnie notices his death stare.

“How have you been?” Dot goes in to give Bucky a hug, frowning as he takes a step back.

“Fine thanks, ma I’m going to find Y/n I’ll see you in a bit”

“Who’s that?” Dot asks.

“His friend Dottie”

“She’s my girlfriend. Has been for the past two years-“

“Oh…that’s around the time I broke up with Brock, he wasn’t worth my time”

That’s not exactly what happened. Yes she broke up with him but it wasn’t because he wasn’t worth her time but because she walked in on him having sex with her best friend.

He remembers the day he received multiple missed calls, he sat in his car staring at the text message from Dot telling him what had happened and how she had messed up and that she wanted him back. Bucky sat and read the message over and over again he didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

Laugh at the fact she had gotten karma, he had a nagging feeling that she had cheated on him with Brock so he thought it was fitting that she had to go through that.

Cry because she had messaged him about her life problems on the day he had his first date with Y/n. It had been two years since Dot had ruined him, two years on and he was still affected by what she had done. Then he met Y/n, he finally gained the courage to ask her out when she said yes he played cool but internally he was screaming.

The day his ex was having the worst day of her life as she put it, he was having the best day of his.

“I need to find Y/n”

“I’ll come with you, I want to meet the girl who’s been holding my place”

Before Bucky had time to respond Dot had wrapped her arm around his and dragged him off.

“Oh guys it’s been so long since I last saw you” Dot squealed as she got closer to Bucky’s friends who were huddled around together.

“What is she doing here Buck?” Nat asked with her arms crossed, Bucky felt like she was staring into his soul with how intense Nat was looking at him.

“I’m his date silly!” The friendship group all snapped their heads towards Bucky whilst his went to Dot.

“Let go of me. I’m not playing Dolores”

“Nope, it’s meant to be me and you James just like we always talked about”

“You’re insane aren’t you? He has a girlfriend who’s a thousand times better than you” Wanda spoke before Bucky could. Wanda never did shy away from making her hatred known for Dot.

“I heard she’s fat.” Dot sneered.

Now it was Natasha’s turn to jump in before Bucky or Wanda could defend Y/n “she isn’t and even if she was it doesn’t matter. Like Wanda said she’s a thousand times better than you-“

Bucky didn’t stop the smile from forming as his friends defended the girl he was in love with, the one who he knew was his everything. The one he brought a ring for with Peggy by his side, the ring sat in his sock draw waiting for their third year anniversary so he could get down on one knee. At first he thought it was a bit too soon but like Peggy reminded him, Steve proposed after only six months and they’d been happily married for nearly five years now.

Bucky is lost in his own little world drowning out his friends who each take it in turns to berate Dot, he’s oblivious to his surroundings and is completely unaware that Y/n sees him with Dot still on his arm, nor does he notice the smirk on Dot’s lips as she makes eye contact with Y/n.

The bubble pops as his father takes the microphone, the hall goes quiet as his father moves closer to his mother. His blue eyes bounced all around the grand hall in search for Y/n, as he does so he tries to shake off Dot.

“-my wife and Is 25th anniversary, truly has and always will be the love of my life-“

George’s voice filters in and out as Bucky starts to worry even more about where Y/n was, he sees Peggy pushing by people in a haste.

“Bucky, it’s Y/n… she’s left and she was crying. I tried to stop her, she thanked me for being her friend for the past two years. What’s going on?” Her eyebrows furrow when she sees Dot and how close she is to Bucky.

“W-when?”

“A few minutes ago.”

Bucky pushes Dot away and makes his way through the crowd, not apologising when he bumps into those in his way.

He gets to the double doors that lead to the hallway, he’s so close he could feel the cold air, when George’s voice that’s amplified by the microphone stops him.

“I want to welcome my son James and his darling fiancée Dolores up on the stage”

Stopping dead in his tracks he slowly turned to face his father with a puzzled look, George’s lips turn into a smirk.

The crowd cheers and claps unaware or unfazed by Bucky’s reaction. He sees Dot moving towards George with a beaming smile, he also sees the glares and confused looks from his friends.

“Come on son, don’t keep you beautiful fiancée waiting” George says through gritted teeth.

Bucky’s feet lead him before his brain can catch up.

He’s halfway through the crowd, ignoring his friends shouting at him in the background Bucky holds his head up even if heart is beating violently. He has to do this, he can’t fail himself or Y/n.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about father. I’m not going to marry Dot, Y/n is my-“

“Say girlfriend I dare you” George growls.

“She is my girlfriend Father”

“She’s a fat nobody who’s only using you for your money, stop playing around and get up here”

Bucky flinches at George’s words, he knows it isn’t true Y/n never lets him spend his money on her. The only time he gets to spoil her is on her birthday or on Christmas. Not once has he ever thought of Y/n being fat, if he’s being honest he’s never noticed her weight to him she’s the definition of perfect.

He knows one day in the future he will regret the heartache he’s about to put his mother through but right now he doesn’t care. Turning his head in his mothers’ direction he sees the smirk she wearing, maybe he won’t regret this. He takes a deep breath in and slowly exhales.

“Did you know his secretary he sacked two years ago is his mistress? She’s pregnant, and oh she’s standing just over there”

Though he feels slightly guilty at his mothers’ fallen face and at the tears already gathering in her eyes, he doesn’t stop himself from smiling when his father stands there on the stage in front of everyone he knows spluttering out incoherent words, George’s eyes bounce from Winnie to his mistress who’s trying to blend into the wall, trying hard to get away from the judgemental stares from those there.

“Oh and no I won’t be marrying Dot, congratulations on your 25th anniversary father.” And with that he leaves to find Y/n, laughing at his friends who all cheer at the scene he just caused.

“Baby I know you’re in there, please open up” He knocks for the umpteenth time.

Hearing the familiar clicking of the locks he’s greeted by a red eyes, tear stained cheeks of his love.

And a box.

“T-these are you’re things”

“No baby please let me in, I need to talk to you”

“There’s nothing to talk about Bucky, congratulations on your engagement I-I hope you have a wonderful life”

“I haven’t proposed yet-“

“Oh, okay break up with me then”

“I haven’t proposed yet... to you” he breathes out.

“W-what?”

“Can I come in and explain? Please”

Nodding Y/n opens the door wider for him to enter, Bucky removes the box from her hands replacing his in them instead he leads her to the couch. Wiping the freshly falling tears he tells her what had happened from Peggy telling him that she had left, to his father, right to him outing his father’s affair.

“Bucky!” she scolded; she was there with Bucky when he caught his father having sex with his 22 year old sectary. She tried to convince him that he should tell his mum, held him as he cried after he got himself worked up with all the emotions.

“What? They both had it coming, I also told her that the mistress is pregnant and pointed over to where she stood” he smiles “baby I had no idea what they was doing I swear-wait how did you know about the engagement?”

“Oh… your father told me-“ It was then Y/n’s turn to tell him everything that has happened over the nearly two years of her knowing his parents.

“Ba-baby I-I didn’t know, I’m so sorry” he chokes out, his throat swells up due to him trying not to cry. The guilt hitting him like a ton of bricks when he remembers all the times he dragged her with him to his parents house, or how it took her to tell him everything for things to make sense like how she always shut down for a few days after they spent time with his parents or how she would never eat in front of them, so many things made sense and the guilt was swallowing him whole.

“It’s oka-“

“No its not Y/n, I should of realised and baby I’m so fucking sorry”

“Ma-maybe if you go back and apologise to them they won’t be to mad, maybe they’ll understand and-and you and Dot can still get engaged” she hesitantly says even though it broke her heart.

“What are you talking about?”

“Your fathers right Buck, I’m not good enough for yo-“

“Shut up. Y/n I swear to god don’t say that ever again! Please don’t ever think that you’re not good or enough for me because I can promise you right here, right now that you are and always will be baby”

Before Y/n can respond a knock sounding from the door makes both jump, Bucky goes to open it instantly smiling as their friends all stand there, Sam and Wanda hold up pizza boxes with wide grins on their faces, letting everyone in Steve waits behind.

“Buck, here” the blonde whispers, holding the small box out that he instantly recognises.

“H-how?”

“I’ve got a spare key remember, I really don’t think you should wait Buck.”

“Thanks punk”

“You’re welcome jerk”

Watching from the doorway as his friends make themselves at home and seeing a genuine smile grace Y/n’s beautiful face as she stared back at him.

“I love you” he mouths.

Every time he says them words, he means them with his whole heart his entire begin.

He closes the door behind as his walks towards his future.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @capsbestgirl77

[daegutowns]

to be in love (csc)

tags: idol bf!cheol, non-idol!reader, fem!reader, reader is referenced as ‘noona’ and ‘girlfriend’ by svt, 95 line!reader, you surprise cheol (and the rest of svt) during practice one day, svt loves you a lot, you also love them a lot, cheol is more whipped than frosting, not proofread, i'm just going insane don't mind me

no matter how much your boyfriend choi seungcheol told you that his members probably loved you more than him, actions always spoke louder than words. as the leader of the group, seungcheol never held back in spending for the sake of his members. he affectionately called them ‘the kids’ or even sometimes ‘his kids’, and he liked giving out allowance/spending money to them. 

but, none of that mattered. at least, not right now. 

tonight was one of those nights where they had to stay up learning choreography so they could begin cleaning in the following week. by this time, their head choreography instructors were long gone and it was just the thirteen members in their dance studio. when seungcheol’s phone rang, he was at the other side of the practice studio as he went over the choreography with hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan. 

seeing the display name ‘baby’ on seungcheol’s screen, seungkwan picked up instead. “hello? noona?” 

“oh, is this seungkwannie?” your voice asked back, excited. “hi, seungkwan-ah!” 

he smiled, greeting you back. “hi noona! seungcheol hyung is going over choreo right now with hoshi hyung, so i picked up instead.” 

“really? that’s okay,” you hummed. “i’m down in the lobby. if you or someone else isn't busy, do you mind letting me into the rest of the building?”

seungkwan’s eyes scanned around the room, trying to remember which group came next in the choreography. “i think i can send shua hyung and dokyeom hyung?” 

“okay, thank you! make sure you keep it a secret from cheollie. i’ll see you soon, then,” you replied, then ended the call. 

soon, joshua and dokyeom were excitedly making their way down to the lobby after telling everyone else they were just “going to the bathroom.” (this made woozi ask why they were going to the bathroom together, but he quickly lost interest just as fast as he asked the question.) 

when you saw the elevator doors open, you got up from the couch where you were sitting and gave them both a hug. “hi, shua,” you greeted your friend with a hug. when you pulled away, you were immediately swallowed up in another hug by dokyeom. “did dokyeommie miss noona?” 

his cute yes~ made you laugh. you held up two bags of food and two bags of drinks. “help me carry these?” you asked.

the two boys chatted with you as they took all the bags -- because no way would your boyfriend forgive them if they made his girlfriend carry their stuff. they told you that you didn’t need to bring them food, but you could already hear their stomachs growling. you knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand. he was definitely hungry right now, and he would let the boys take a bite of his food before he got started. 

when the door opened to the dance studio again, seungcheol, hoshi, mingyu, and jeonghan were still working on the choreo together. but, there concentration was broken as soon as seungcheol heard your laugh. his head whipped around, confused and wondering if he was so delirious from exhaustion that he was now hallucinating your voice. he was pleasantly surprised when he saw you laughing as you pinched vernon’s cheeks as his eyes lit up at the food. (“y/n noona,” he simpered, hearts in his eyes as he grabbed a container labelled ‘bononie’.) 

hoshi called for a break, excited to see you too. it seemed like suddenly, a room full of people were swarming you, saying ‘thank you noona’ or ‘thanks y/n’ to you. by the time he got to you, seungkwan was excitedly thanking you for bringing him his favorite iced americano -- even though it was decaf. (you wanted him to be able to sleep!) 

seungcheol wrapped his arms around your waist and nuzzled his head into the crook of your head. immediately, one hand reached up to affectionately pat his cheek while the other squeezed his arm around your waist. it was so natural, the way your bodies responded to each other without even needing to talk. 

“i missed you,” he mumbled into your skin. 

you turned around, your eyes warmly gazing at him. your arms draped around the back of his neck while his own arms snaked around your waist again. (the boys were too busy digging in and talking to each other to mind the both of you flirting in front of them.) “aw, i missed you too, my cheollie. i brought your favorite from the kimbap place you like. there wasn’t anything else open this late, so i just stopped by the GS--” your words were cut off by a bunch of kisses around your face, causing you to burst into a fit of giggles. 

“i love you,” he said before he leant in to give you a proper kiss. 

before your lips met, jeonghan screamed, “YAH! take that outside. we have food in front of us.” 

seungcheol pursed lips and closed his eyes, wondering what he was going to do about his friend. you, on the other hand, were still gracious. “did our jeonghannie get sick watching us?” you asked in a baby voice, making fun of him. “tsk, just enjoy your food.” you stuck your tongue out at him, making him laugh. 

while the both of you sat down on the floor with the rest of the members, seungcheol opened his box that was labelled with his name. he even caught the order instructions stapled to the bag, where you asked for extra meat on his and to add a bunch of hearts to his name. god, just when he thought he couldn’t fall in love with you any more than this after being with you for so long! 

he admired the way that you talked to the other members, making sure to hand them napkins if you noticed food around their mouths. he admired that you had gotten off a hard day of work and the first thing you did was take care of him and the people he cared about the most after you and his blood family -- his other family, seventeen. 

when you first started dating, he was worried about them. he knew what it would be like based on other idols’ stories. you date one, you date the whole group. but, you didn’t mind it one bit. if anything, you were always excited to see the boys and were often more worried about them liking her than she was of liking them. whenever he asked you about it, you would say, “of course i love them. they’re your members.” the way you said it like it was so obvious and that any other answer was ridiculous still made butterflies swarm in his stomach. 

feeling more in love by the second, seungcheol pulled you in close, so appreciative he had someone like you in his life. he had never met anything as kind, caring, and genuine as you. he made a mental note to order whatever he had loaded into his cart for you whenever he got home that night. oh, he was going to spoil you so hard. you deserved everything you ever wanted and more.  yeah, he is so in love with you.

[tenjikyu]

𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 - 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥.

౨ৎ ⋆｡˚ bonten!executives x manjiro’s son!reader , male!reader , izana lives bc fuck it we ball & he adds character to the fic , bonten all lives together in a massive penthouse just like my rockstar!reader fic bc that’s such a fun idea , reader is a very “ ion gaf ” character , reader is not biologically related to manjiro , reader has suffered through childhood abuse , more fluff then angst , going to make a part 2 .

❤︎ the day manjiro sano found you, helpless and starved, he practically convinced himself to ignore you.

❤︎ alas, his big brother didn’t share the same sentiment, quickly walking over to you and overwhelming you with questions.

❤︎ izana talked your ear off, and all the executives present could see that you were pissed by his presence.

❤︎ deciding it would be better to just leave you be to die of starvation, he takes izana’s hand in his own before dragging him away.

❤︎ you barley crossed his mind after that.

❤︎ until he found you in an alleyway, drenched in blood that was certainly not your own.

❤︎ you were wielding a simple thin kitchen knife, and you were clearly distressed.

❤︎ looking over your shoulder, you notice the man’s presence behind you, and get in an offensive position, ready to attack need be.

“what happened?” the boy with frosted skin asked you, staring lifelessly at the rather large man that had a slice to his throat.

“he followed me back to the alleyway after i borrowed some apples from the store next to his. when i told him to leave, he didn’t.” you explain, glaring at the corpse next to you.

“and so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”

you seemed almost indifferent to the stench of blood, your eyes spoke a million words to manjiro. it was as though this was an all to familiar scenario for you.

“come boy, i’ll get you a change of clothes.” the man before you almost orders you. scoffing, you race to him and grip the knife to his throat.

“like hell i’m going anywhere with you.” you spit at the man, completely oblivious to just how dangerous he was, not that you would’ve cared regardless.

it’s a kill or be killed world, and you weren’t going to become apart of the former. not again.

manjiro only sighed, waving your hand away from him.

“come, or do you want the cops to find you? you aren’t getting anywhere dressed like that. if you’re with me, the police force won’t be able touch you.”

at the end of the day, you had just killed a man once more, and you knew deep down that the strange man in front of you was right.

there was no way you’re getting out of this alone.

❤︎ and so, you allowed the lean man to hold your even thinner wrist as he walks through the streets. it was about 10:00pm by now, and manjiro knew that his brother is probably blowing up his phone as you two walk.

❤︎ regardless, he takes you into a shady thrift shop and gets you dressed. nothing fancy, just a black hoodie with some worn jeans and a pair of 2nd hand converse shoes. not the best, but much better then the rags you were wearing beforehand anyways.

❤︎ as he made his way back to the penthouse, which could easily home more then 15 people, he finally answers his silenced phone.

❤︎ izana is giving him the usual earful about how he “shouldn’t leave without his big brother” and how “anyone could be tracking his movements.”

❤︎ manjiro only holds your little hand tighter as he steps into the place.

❤︎ immediately, 8 sets of eyes land on the two of you.

❤︎ the man with the curly white hair blankly stares into what feels like your soul. he slowly approaches you, before leaning down to his level.

❤︎ “you like taiyaki?”. his eyes crazed and still glaring into you.

❤︎ and thus, you were oddly enough, quickly welcomed into bonten.

❤︎ you were promptly fed and bathed, much to your discomfort, before being placed into one of the many spare bedrooms within their absolutely massive penthouse, right next to manjiro’s bedroom for simplicity’s sake.

❤︎ everything was a first for you, from the endless amount of food stocked in the home, to having adults around you that aren’t about to beat you senseless.

❤︎ after waking up from your first ever comfortable night asleep, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t speak a word to any of these people.

❤︎ having your trust in the ones supposed to protect you abused and shattered doesn’t get fixed overnight, but that didn’t seem to bother any of the men around you.

❤︎ it has been 2 days since your arrival, and apart from manjiro showing you around, they seemed to mostly ignore your presence.

❤︎ you did whatever you wanted. watched TV, ate anybody’s food without a care in the world, interrupted all of the men from getting their work done and stolen an excessive amount of personal items that belonged to the executives, much to their confusion.

❤︎ some of them used the spare bedrooms as 2nd offices (apart from the one at HQ), and you used that as a way to learn more about the guys who had ripped you from the streets.

❤︎ and from that, you learned then that you were currently residing in the most dangerous home in japan, with the deadliest men in the country’s stolen goods scattered in your bedroom.

❤︎ your heart sunk when you heard someone enter the office you were in, only to find the head on bonten staring at you as you scrolled through his laptop.

❤︎ you only blinked, before slowly backing away from him, attempting to make a run for it.

❤︎ “let’s chat, (Y/N).” he takes ahold of your little wrist once more.

❤︎ fuck.

❤︎ you spent a good 2 and 1/2 hours talking to manjiro. you told him about your home life. how your mother slept around with the door wide open, and how your fathers empty bottles typically collided with your forehead if you took a breath too loud. you told him about how you had finally had enough, and murdered them both with the same knife you held to his throat only a few days ago.

❤︎ you told him about how school was a drag, and the kids there would often laugh at the marks left by your father. ‘the boy with unfortunate parents’ was your title, and you found yourself breaking the noses of the children teasing you. and so, you just stopped going.

❤︎ you told him more about yourself. how you (from what you could remember), were nine and turning ten next year, and what your interests were, heavily limited due to lack of exposure.

❤︎ not once did manjiro interrupt you as you spoke. he sat there, legs crossed and staring at you with an indifferent look.

❤︎ after you were done, he gently pulled you by the waist into his lap and ruffled your messy hair.

❤︎ “from now on, you only listen to what i say. you don’t need to listen to anyone else in the house, okay? just do as i say, and you’re free to do as you wish.”

❤︎ that’s all he says as he strokes your hair, attempting to have you drift off in his protective hold.

❤︎ and it works.

A/N : part 2 is gonna have the reader interacting with the executives, as well as the father/son relationship form between him and manjiro.

uncle izana is gonna go so hard.

[kingkatsuki]

— release

You know a characters really got me good when I set out to write non-con and end up writing the opposite wahhh. I hope what I was going for with this makes sense and you get why it’s sexy idk😂😭 and once again if you don’t like don’t read💕

Kaji is trying to make sure you get home safe on a night out, but has absolutely no idea what he’s supposed to do when you need to pee—

Pairing: Kaji Ren x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, omorashi, piss, voyeurism, exhibitionism, intoxication (reader is drunk), dubcon (reader specifies she consents but she’s drunk), borderline edging.

Word Count: 1.9k.

“Kajiii,” You whine pathetically as you tug at the sleeve of his hoodie, “I need to pee.”

Kaji turns to look down at you with an internal groan before glancing back at the rowdy club you’d just left. A large queue of people still gathered outside waiting to get in, as the line slinks around the corner.

Kaji could kill Tsubaki-chan right now.

He’d been forced out to one of Tsubaki’s shows in Keisei Street by Hiragi. It was practically blackmail as his old mentor as he explained how much his old school friends missed him, and hoped that he could make it. But he hadn’t expected you to be there— unsure whether it was a blessing or a curse as he sat opposite you in one of the booths and he tried desperately to stop the heat from rising in his chest whenever you spoke.

It felt more like a set-up when Tsubaki leaned across the table after his performance to volunteer Kaji to take you home— a very drunk you.

“I know she’ll be in safe hands with you, Kaji-kun. The safest.”

And you would be, Kaji reckons. Much better than the other creeps in there that could’ve been taking you home right now— god knows what would’ve happened if he’d refused.

“Why didn’t you go five minutes ago?” He deadpanned, trying to ignore the way you slid your hand into his with such ease. Threading your smaller fingers through his he realised just how clammy his palm had become.

“I didn’t need to go then.” You looked up at him with a pretty pout that Kaji wanted to kiss right off your lips, his heart thudding against his rib cage as he tried to think of what to do.

There was a rowdy izakaya a few streets down that he knew would still be open from his few patrols of the area, it probably made the most sense to take you there. He started to weave through the crowds as he pulled you down a side street to avoid the sea of people, feeling a tug of resistance as you stopped dead in your tracks.

“I can’t hold it,” You whined, moving to conceal yourself beside a large dumpster as Kaji frowned, “I can just go here.”

“W-what?” He glanced back down the alleyway to its opening to see people walking past, and although it was nowhere near as busy as the main street it was still very much public, “You can’t— here?”

The thought of having you in such a vulnerable, precarious position had a scorching heat shooting through his veins. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the thought as he stood statuesque in place.

“Don’t let anyone see, ‘kay Kaji?” Before he can try to stop you, you’re pushing on his arm gently to coax him towards the entrance, “I promise I’ll be quick.”

Kaji waits for you at the end of the alley, positioned like a guard dog. Jaw locked, eyes focused as he sucks his sucker. He’d lost count of the number of sparkling sakes you’d had after your fifth, nursing the same glass of soju he’d had all night as the loud bass flowed through the speakers and Tsubaki-chan took to the stage. But for the entire time, Kaji couldn’t take his eyes off you.

Much like right now— god, he was such a freak.

He feels like one of the creeps he wanted to protect you from in the first place — the people Tsubaki-chan had been trying to protect you from — as he turns his head to watch you pull your panties down from underneath your short skirt, the fabric bunched around your hips to reveal more of your plush thighs as your back presses against the brick wall and you sink down. You wobble slightly in your heels as you bend, crouching off the ground as your panties group around your knees.

Your panties were pink.

He tries to ignore the look of pure bliss on your face as you begin to alleviate the pent-up tension in your bladder as you finally let go, a puddle forming building between your thighs as you piss in the small alleyway.

Fuck, you looked so pretty right now.

He tries to be good and forces himself to glance back at the busy street as he waits patiently for you at the entrance to the alleyway, now painfully hard as he starts to imagine making you do that himself.

“Fuck,” He hears you curse before breaking out into a melodic giggle as he turns his attention back to you. Your hands are now pressed against the wall as your face droops forward, perched on wobbly legs as you struggle to stand. Kaji then notices as you start to fiddle with the buckle on one of your heels as he groans, moving from his guard dog position in quick, long strides towards you.

“Whatcha doin’?” He rasps gruffly as you grin.

Kaji tries to avert his gaze as stands in front of you, positive he can just about make out the folds of your cunt as he tries desperately to remain a gentleman.

Your drunken fingers are unable to conquer the clasps as you reach out for him, your legs almost give way as they wobble but Kaji’s reflexes are faster. Grabbing you before you fall into the puddle you’d just made beneath you, as he pulls you up to stand.

“Wanna take my shoes off, my feet hurt.”

“But your—” underwear, undies, pants, panties— he can’t bring himself to say the word as he feels unbearably warm, “You’re not decent.”

“That’s not nice,” You pout, “I’m really good.”

Fuck, you were so cute. Kaji can’t bite back the groan that spills from deep in his chest at your words.

“That’s not what I meant,” He almost bites down on the candy ball of his sucker as he tries to remember to breathe, “Your p-panties—“

“Oh,” You giggle again and it’s like music to his ears as he almost forgets he’s standing with you like this in a dirty alleyway, “Help me.”

You’re reaching out to cling to his shoulders now as Kaji reaches down to curl deft fingers around the hem of your panties— if the thin pink string could even be called that.

“You’re staring.” You cock your head to the side and Kaji curses beneath his breath at how cute you look, trying to ignore the shame that ebbs through him at your words.

“Sorry.” He replies bluntly.

“No, I like it,” You smile hazily, and it has Kaji’s cock pulsing beneath his skinny jeans, “Do you wanna touch it?”

You’re thankful for the alcohol flowing through your veins for giving you the liquid courage to ask, and also the perfect alibi if he refuses. Hoping he won’t as you reach out to clasp one of his hands in your own.

“W-what?” Kaji baulks, eyes wide as saucers as he thinks he might’ve cum in his pants. The fabric sopping with fresh pre as he leaks against his pelvis, trying to ignore the sticky clammy sensation as you tug his hand closer to your heat.

“You can touch me if you want to,” You grin.

He hates how blase you are about the whole situation, and yet he finds himself filled with unbridled curiosity. His cock bucks as he feels you pull his hand closer to your warm cunt, letting him make the final decision as you look up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“You’re drunk.” He replies bluntly, and yet makes no attempt to move his hand.

“So?” You challenge with a lazy smile, reaching up to tug the lollipop from between his lips as he lets you. Watching intently as you move it towards your mouth, pressing the spit-soaked candy against your glossy lips as you twirl it between a thumb and forefinger. Letting your lips wrap around the candy before your tongue slips out to circle it, causing a low groan to form at the back of his throat while he watches you finally swallow it, “I want you to touch me. ’m asking you to.”

Kaji groans at how wet you feel— from the piss that soaks your folds to the creamy slick that drools from your tight hole as he glides two thick digits through the mess of you. His touch has you grinding against him, desperate for more as you follow his movements. Bracing yourself against his broad shoulders as you feel him focus his attention on your clit, spinning gentle circles around it as he pulls a desperate whine from your pretty lips.

He wonders how you’d feel relieving yourself against his fingers, his thigh or perhaps even his face if he could convince you enough— imagining how the warmth would engulf him as he watches the stream of piss leave your body up close, feeling it soak his skin as you cry out in bliss.

He has the debauched urge to bend down to his knees to taste you on his tongue, but fights it tooth and nail as he continues to press against your puffy clit. Chewing the inside of his cheek as you moan loudly, steel-blue eyes immediately look towards the alley entrance to check if anyone heard.

You hate that his attention shifts as you move a palm to the back of his neck, pulling him down roughly to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss. The sucker stick pressed against the corner of your lips as his tongue brushes against the ball of it inside your mouth. Kissing around the hard candy as your nails drag through the messy hair at the base of his skull.

It’s enough to have Kaji’s mind racing as he tries to match your movements, swallowing your moans on his tongue as he moves his fingers lower. Pressing two inside your velvety walls as he resumes his persistent circles against your clit with his thumb.

“I’m not doing this here.” Kaji groans, eyes clenched shut as he practically forces himself to pull away from your messy cunt.

His words have your hips jolting as you squeeze your thighs together tightly, trying to give yourself some much-needed friction as your eyes roll back. Almost positive you won’t be able to last that long, as you contemplate unabashedly slipping your fingers between your legs to finish yourself off again here.

“Kaji,” You whimper, “I was so close.”

“Not here.” His cheeks practically glow pink as he pulls the material of your panties up your thighs, settling them on your hips as he pulls your skirt back down to cover you up. The thought of anyone else seeing you like this has an inexplicable rage forming inside him, as he glances back towards the entrance to the alley to make sure no one is watching.

“You’re such a tease.” Your head falls back against the wall as you keep your grip on him even when he moves back up, the alcohol in your veins stunts your reflexes as it takes a second for your body to catch up to your brain as you squint.

“I’ve waited way too fuckin’ long for this,” Kaji rasps against your mouth as you feebly try to wrap your hand around his wrist to pull him back towards your unsatisfied cunt, pouting pathetically as you whine, “I want you sober when I finally make you cum for me.”

[i-luvsang]

a heart to warm — jung wooyoung

pairing : wooyoung x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : major fluff, established relationship ➖⟢ cw : suggestive at first, my god so so many kisses ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K. @nebulousbrainsoup sweet orion ! tis i, one of your secret santas <33 i hope that you will enjoy this lots and may feel much warmth throughout the season! never forget that you are very much loved <33

if he could kiss you harder, he would, but he can taste the cider you drank a few minutes ago on your tongue and his hands have already slipped under your maroon sweater, so there's not anything to do about that except try and pull you impossibly closer. his hands on your bare skin are cold, a testament to the broken heating unit in your shared apartment. but you don’t care much, his lips on yours are all you could ask for in the moment.

he whines a little when you tug at his hair at the base of his neck. you know him all too well, realizing that he won’t be able to stop if you keep going like this. normally, you wouldn’t want to stop for even a moment, but the practically freezing air around you is holding you back.

you pull back just a bit and you feel the pout on his lips before you speak. “wooyoung,” you chide.

“what? baby, i wanna kiss you,” he practically complains.

“it’s too cold to get naked right now,” you explain. he laughs at your blunt choice of words, though he’d probably be more crass himself if he was the one saying it.

“so?” he teases.

“so, can we please just kiss and cuddle under the blankets? i’ll freeze if you get too horny and can’t help yourself,” you tease back.

“first of all, i can always help myself if it’s not what you want, no matter how horny i am,” his voice is light-hearted, but sincere as he reminds you that your consent always comes first to him. then, of course, his voice becomes suggestive and humorous all at once again. “also, there’s ways to take care of my horniness without you taking off your clothes.”

you laugh aloud at that, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “that’s true.”

“but of course we can stick to kissing and cuddles, specifically ones that happen under the blankets and keep us warm.” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours with a sweet smile. “we really need to get this fixed,” he says for maybe the seventh time in the past few hours as he pulls the covers up from the bed and lays down with you beside him.

you giggle. “correct! just like you have been every other time you’ve said that.”

“you’re the one complaining! i’m saying it for your sake,” he jokes, pressing a long kiss to your lips to prevent you from biting back.

you do anyways when his lips leave yours, of course. “i’m not even complaining! i’m just looking for ways to stay as warm as possible while we wait for random maintenance people to come fix it for us. you’re the one being impatient.”

this time he doesn’t even retort with words, just his lips back on yours. when you realize he has no intention of moving away from you any time soon, you let your eyes flutter closed and your lips move slowly against his. even though you technically were complaining about the cold, you still don’t care when the chill skin of his fingertips brush over your cheeks and push a few strands of hair away so he can cup your face sweetly.

it’s hard to think straight when he kisses you like this, soft like he’s so in love with you that he could melt right into your embrace. but you’re still able to think about how goddamn lucky you are to have wooyoung, wooyoung who wants to taste the hot apple cider on your tongue, hold you under the blankets when the heat is broken, and just kiss you sweetly if that’s what you want. 

as you thread your hands through his dark hair, you realize that he smells a bit like peppermint, probably due to the candy cane and chocolate chip cookies he tried to bake for you in the morning. they weren’t bad, but he burnt them because he’s still not quite used to the oven in this apartment.

it's only been a week or two since you two have fully settled into your first apartment together, and you both had to laugh and groan about already having issues when the heating broke a few hours ago. but of course, that didn’t stop him from kissing you hard in the kitchen until you found yourself pressed against him on the bed.

and now he’s kissing you with that sweetness to rival any holiday cookie and maybe you’re thinking that you want him until the day you die, and every moment after that. so you have to break away for a moment, and tell him just that.

something about seeing the grin on his face this close up is absolutely divine. 

“me too,” he whispers, “i want you, forever and ever.”

you grin back, “that’s good.” this time, you’re the one to close the gap between the two of you and kiss him soft, but full of conviction. there’s no second-guessing; you’re the one for him and he’s the one for you.

you’re not sure how long it is before you finally pull apart, but you certainly had to stop for breath more than once. now, with your head against his chest and the beating of his heart in your ear, there’s such peace that it fills you with a kind of warmth you’re not sure you could describe with words.

that is, until, no longer distracted from all else by his lips, you realize just how cold your toes are, even with two pairs of socks and thick blankets to cover you. you look up at wooyoung and notice the tip of his nose is beginning to turn pink.

“my god,” you laugh. “it’s way too cold here, even with the blankets. can we please crash at yeosang’s? you know he’s too nice to say no.”

wooyoung lets out a laugh of his own. “sweetest, it’s not nice to take advantage of people for their kindness.” 

you scoff, “says you? you’re the worst of us all. besides, i can tell you’re cold, too.”

his laugh is soft this time, and he doesn’t continue making fun for once. “i’ll call him. you’re right, i think we’d freeze to death in our sleep.”

“thank you, love. i’ll start packing us a bag.” you hate to leave the comfort of all the blankets, but are happy to know you’ll be back in a heated home soon. you can hear wooyoung’s voice on the phone from the bathroom and smile to yourself when you hear him laugh at something yeosang’s said.

once outside and waiting for a taxi, wooyoung keeps one of your hands in his pocket, always intent on holding you to him in some way or another. he looks at you in your winter coat and favorite hat, your breath fogging up in the air as you look down the road. when you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away and you could almost cry because you can see it all. you can see the adoration in his eyes as he holds your gaze and smile that teases at his lips and the way that he loves you more than anything at all. and as thick snowflakes begin to fall from the sky, he leans in close because he just can’t help it and presses a long kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, just barely, there’s snow in his hair and he looks so beautiful like that.

“i love you, you know that, right?” he asks, voice soft and quiet, just for you. of course he knows that you know. but sometimes he just has he hear you say it. he needs to be reassured that you know you are loved to the ends of the endless universe and back, by him. that you know you’re irreplaceable and he could never love someone more than he loves you.

you nod first, holding his gaze, hoping he can see the love in your eyes too. “i know. and i love you, so so so much.”

“i know,” he grins. and because he has to, he really, truly has to, he presses one more kiss to your lips, then pulls you close with his free arm, holding you there until the taxi arrives. 

how lucky are you to have a heart kept warm and comforted even in the cold of an apartment with broken heating or the open air of a snowy city. how lucky are you to have another’s heart to warm, too.

[rainezrhapsody]

❝Romance On Ice❞

FIC. Kinich x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. Your partner who was supposed to compete with you for a pair skating competition ditched you, and now you were struggling to find someone last minute. Suddenly, while you were practicing, your coach surprises you.

AUTHORS NOTE. I put a lot of effort into this one! so enjoy >_<

ps. masterlist for this will be made soon!! Hints of nilou x reader if you like that btw.. or you can interpret it as platonic!!

“For fucks sake, you’re not serious are you?”

“I am–I’m really sorry, (name).”

Which was the thing he said at the end of the conversation you vividly remembered with your former partner when he told you he was backing out of the pair skating competition the two of you were competing in. This decision was very sudden and on a whim, which definitely pissed you off. You were now completely partnerless for this competition that unfortunately required a duo performance to participate.

You informed this to your coach & childhood best friend Nilou, and she was definitely not pleased with the news. She told you it was perhaps best if you dropped out of the competition, which was very unlike her, she would normally encourage you and trust in you, but it felt like she had no hope. You definitely didn't like this, so you tried begging her to find you a new partner–And after days of whining, she finally agreed to try to find you another partner–which was basically almost impossible, as almost every other figure skater in town had already gotten a partner. You could barely remember the conversation within your head, but it definitely went something like this:

“Oh come on Nilou, you gotta help me out here–”

“No.” Nilou said, stopping you from whining any longer.

“Please! You’re my best friend..” You begged, “I’ll do anything, I’ll even spend all my break-days practicing!”

“Awh, come on (name)..” She said, as if she was considering it, “Sometimes you make it impossible for me to say no to you, so I guess I’ll try.” She said, smiling softly. “But no promises.” She quickly said, hoping you wouldn’t get your hopes too high.

You could remember the joy you felt when he said he would at least try as you immediately hugged her, she hugged you back as you guys embraced, it was a heartfelt moment. Nilou knew how important this was to you, and you knew you had to try to win this competition, it had been your dream to win it since you were a young girl. At this point, you would take anyone to be your partner, as long as you could participate then you were happy with it.

.

On a casual evening, you were practicing doing loops, jumps and spins, it was definitely exhausting but you just kept practicing. You were probably doing it to cool off after your former partner abandoned you. All of a sudden Nilou would suddenly approach you with a huge smile on her face, you could tell he heard good news with him, and honestly it somewhat excited you.

“(name)! I have good news, after a bit of searching I finally found someone who can partner up with you for the competition! And from what I’ve heard, he’s very proficient and talented at what he does.”

“Seriously? That fast? It’s only been a day or two. Maybe I underestimated you..” You said, overthinking a bit, “Well anyways, that’s great news! Thank you so much Nilou, you’re the best.” You said, overjoyed with the news as you celebrated in that small world of yours.

“Of course! Anything for my dear best friend.” She said, acting as if it was no big deal for her.

“Soo.. When do I get to meet this mysterious partner of mine? If I’m gonna have to work with him I need to get to know him first, you know?” You said, your manner of speech teasing with a hint of seriousness.

“I arranged for you two to meet at your favorite coffee shop tomorrow at 2pm, and knowing your schedule you should be good at that time.” Nilou said, the smile on her face soft and gentle.

Of course she knew your schedule, Nilou knew almost everything about you.. From your work schedule to your shoe size. It honestly made you smile knowing how you had such a caring and loving friend by your side. Nilou had always been by your side, even when you both were kids. She was the one who would protect you from bullies during middle-school, and eventually as you grew up and matured you began to do the same.

“You know my schedule like the back of my hand you know?” You joked. “Well anyways, 2pm tomorrow is perfect, it’s during my one hour break so I should be able to go.”

“Perfect! Then I’ll tell him you can make it.” She said happily, she was clearly excited for you, I guess luck was on your side.

.

At 2:08 pm, you were rushing over to the coffee shop in fear of being late. As you finally entered the shop, you leaned on the doorframe as you tried to catch your breath again. Eventually, you would look around the place that was jam packed with people. Nilou had told you that the reservation was at table 6. As you observed the area, your eyes gazed upon a certain green eyed guy on his phone drinking coffee, it was Kinich, your rival.. And he of-course he was sitting on table 6, just perfect.

You and Kinich had been rivals for many-many years, and now you were partners with him? Well, you did say anyone.. But Kinich? Ever since you were in highschool, you never got along, no matter what it was, whether it was who was in line first, to who would be getting valedictorian. Nilou would always be the one to stop these little quarrels of yours–but thinking back on your highschool years, you were somewhat fond of those years.

You would approach Kinich slowly, before scoffing,

“Why are you here?.”

“I could be asking you the same thing.” He replied, his voice always somewhat irritated you, the thought of having to hear his voice almost everyday annoyed you greatly, but you tried to act calm and friendly towards him, despite everything.

“Soo… Are you my partner?”

“Probably.” He replied, his voice was nonchalant yet it had a hint of irritation.

“I didn’t know you figure skated.” You said, awkwardly trying to make a conversation.

You then sat down on the chair in-front of him before raising your hand to call a waiter. One of the waitresses then approached as she held up her notes waiting for you to order,

“So what will you be ordering?” The waitress asked, her facial expression exhausted.

“I’ll just get a caramel macchiato.”

You replied, before grabbing your phone out and texting Nilou. You were pissed off that she didn’t tell you that Kinich was gonna be your partner, but you didn’t really have much of a choice.

You set down your phone before waiting for your order to arrive. You were somewhat upset that Nilou didn’t tell you your partner was gonna be Kinich, but you knew if she told you you would’ve declined and had no chance to compete.

Kinich noticed that you seemed to be in a bad mood, he wanted to comment on it but he didn’t bother. The silence in the air was awkward, chilling maybe. The two of you would just sit in your respective chairs, awkwardly staring at each other.

Waiting for your order, you would silently fidget your hands. You were trying to avoid eye contact, but you were failing miserably as you glanced at him multiple times, even catching him staring at you a few times. You slowly became distracted by the crowd and large noises surrounding the cafe. It was somewhat peaceful—But of course it was interrupted by the waitress giving you your order.

“One caramel macchiato.” The waitress said, putting down your drink in front of you. She then left in a hurry.

You would take a small sip of the caramel macchiato, before trying to start a conversation in-order to make a bit of progress.

“So.. I—”

“Let’s set our differences aside to win this.” He said, his mannerisms and tone of voice serious. “I want to win this as much as you, which makes us equal.”

“Your point?” You replied, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“Let’s try to work together.” He replied, his deep gaze slightly intimidating you.

You’d nod, reaching out your hand for a handshake. She seemed confused at first and quickly shook your hand, I guess this was it. . You were now stuck with him for a month or so, complete hell but this was your biggest dream, and you needed to win this. Anything was worth winning this thing.

End.

[gaymaramada]

Rise! Boys with a S/O that has a bad swearing habit:

Leonardo

Lowkey encourages it.

He just thinks it’s really funny how shamelessly you throw the “forbidden words” out there.

Will bust out laughing when you casually tell someone to fuck off.

When you describe it as a bad habit, though, he pulls back a bit.

Offers the idea to replace any swears with random words in Spanish.

(That’s what he does.

He never actually swears in Spanish, though.

It’s pretty funny.)

Will absolutely let you be a bad influence on him, much to the others’ dismay.

“What the fuck was up with that guy at Hueso’s the other night?”

“Yeah, what a shithead.”

“HEY—”

*Dramatic gasp*

“No, no, let him cook—”

Donatello

…. Okay? What of it?

He honestly doesn’t care.

Words are words.

He tends to cycle between his innocent dessert-inspired swears to the most vile combinations of letters to ever grace the planet.

It’s like Russian roulette.

Oh the rants you two will fall into.

Venting to one another brings enough curses to the world that it would have the members of Witch Town shaking.

Overall, he’s pretty indifferent to it, but if it’s bothering you, he’ll do his best to assist.

Though as someone who has his own bad habits, it’s less of him helping you and more of you leaning on each other.

It can become a bit competitive, though.

“Quit biting your nails, you’re gonna fuck them up.”

“Keep yourself from swearing for the next five minutes and I’ll consider it.”

Raphael

Oh the poor sweet thing.

Literally the “no more saying cuss words guys! 😨 it’s inappropriate and violent! 😖” kid.

He loves you, but he’s pretty uncomfortable by how often you swear.

He softened up a bit when you explained it wasn’t entirely voluntary.

He knows what it’s like to lose control sometimes, mild or severe.

He gets you a chewing stim toy to bite down on whenever you feel the urge to swear, as he had a similar method when he was younger and adjusting to his strong jaw.

Will absolutely glare at you if you’re about to curse.

“Oh, fu—”

“🤨”

“uuuuuuuuudgesicles. Fudgesicles.”

“😊”

Overall, he’s very supportive.

Michelangelo

So here’s the thing.

Mikey is no stranger to swearing.

In fact he probably has the foulest mouth in the family with Donnie as a close second.

He gets away with it because:

A. Youngest privilages

B. No one expects it from him

C. Dr. Delicate Touch

He also keeps his swearing to a minimum around his brothers (cough cough Raph cough).

But when you two are together, all Hell breaks loose.

His behavior does switch when he learns that you recognize it as a bad habit, and suddenly you find yourself in a Dr. Feelings seminar.

He helps you find alternative vocal stims to use instead of swearing that still hold enough bite to be satisfactory.

He practices these with you for his own sake as well, so similarly to Donnie, the two of you lean on each other.

If the situation calls for it, however…

“DID YOU STEAL MY FUCKING PINK STAR???”

“Noooo ☺️”

“…..”

“I’m gonna fucking skin you—”

[brittle-doughie]

Taking a break from angst-time for some good Ole fashion family drama!

I'd like to request a scenario where a matriarch relative from Y/N's family roping them into an arranged marriage with an upper-class cookie (whoever it is up to you)

Said relative is introduced coming to the kingdom where they try to take y/n cookie to their would-be-fiance, only to notice a plethora of cookies either following, stalking, or budding in on their "familial reunion."

P.s. Hope your having a safe belated new year, brittle-doughie! Your the best

- 🥀 Anon

Forced Connections

Much appreciated, my dude. Arranged marriages pretty much spell disaster for the would-be spouse if you run a kingdom!

Crowned Cupcake Cookie, that was the name of the cookie in the photograph sent to you, the one you were apparently meant to be wedded with for the sake of “keeping the doughline pure”, as Sugar Cane Cookie, your family’s matriarch, would put it.

AN: Many thanks to Runebrave for massively carrying with the design, as you guys may know, I don’t have a single creative bone in my body lol

Your mother, Molasses Cookie, couldn’t be any more embarrassed that her side of the family is meddling with your personal life, wanting you to choose how you want to live it, wanting you to choose who you want to be with…but Sugar Cane Cookie insisted.

She was expected to arrive with Crowned Cupcake Cookie soon, which means having to break the news to your Cookie Kingdom before they did. They deserved to know…

You opened the door to your quarters to see Financier Cookie standing by, she gave a small bow to you.

“Y/N Cookie, I see that you are alright today. It gives me relief knowing that you haven’t gotten hurt.”

And it helps to know that a cookie like her is always keep watch over you, when she makes it to the schedule at least. Quite a number of cookies are always gunning to make your bodyguard spot such as Caramel Arrow or Raspberry Cookie, had to break up a few scuffles on occasion.

But that’s a topic for another day, you’d rather you give her the news of what’s to come..

You tell Financier Cookie to be ready, for your kingdom will have…important guests arriving soon..

“I’ll be sure to be on my best behavior and that will go for the other cookies. May I ask who these guests are?”

It will be your family matriarch, Sugar Cane Cookie…and your soon-to-be fiancé, Crowned Cupcake Cookie-

You see Financier Cookie stop in her tracks, a thousand yard stare straight ahead, as her grip on her sword shakes.

“….What?”

Now now, you know that sounds like a big shocker already, but it’s being forced upon you and you really can’t-

“A forced marriage…as if the circumstances can’t get any worse…”

You asked for her to please settle down, this was beyond your control once it was made known to be an order in your family!

Financier’s grip on her sword tightens up as she takes deep breathes, indicating the hidden rage that was boiling inside her

“Don’t worry about it, self-discipline is something I need to practice for anyway…just don’t expect me to be cordial with this…fiancé of yours if she steps out of line…”

If Financier could get like this, there’s no telling how the others will be…

———————————————————————

Jealousy is hitting Kouign-Amann Cookie when she learns of the news. What kind of cookies were your family to try and set you up with something arranged?! As opposed to..what your heart wants..

She can proudly boast that her skills as a Paladin exceeds what this visitor can do for you, anything crossing your path can just meet her sword! What can this visitor do? Because they probably won’t be able to do as much compared to Kouign!

Not giving up is also another part of being a Paladin! Nothing this newcomer can say or do will deter her at all, even if it ends up in a fight! Because Kouign is more than willing to put this cookie six feet under if they push their luck…

———————————————————————

Almond Cookie is on the case. Not only was this arranged marriage done without an agreement on your end, but you weren’t even on a first name basis with this other cookie? This has gotten him on high alert that required a whole lot of coffee, he’ll need it if he’s to dedicate his time to this problem.

He’ll be right there with you for when your arranged spouse has entered the station. The safety of the Cookie Kingdom’s ruler is of the upmost importance to everyone, including him. Especially him. He felt like being your barrier, the wall of protection that you can count on!

And..just reading on whatever files he can scrape on up on this Crowned Cupcake Cookie…he’ll definitely need to be on guard for whatever she has planned or would be ready to do. He’s more than happy to slap her in cuffs if she so much as LOOKS suspicious..

———————————————————————

Did this mean you won’t be able to come to her picnics anymore? You’ll be giving all your time to Crowned Cupcake Cookie?

It was a pretty unfortunate realization for Cherry Blossom Cookie, she felt like what you and her had was going pretty nicely. It just felt like a pain to her heart to suddenly lose that connection to a cookie she’s never heard about.

She can’t just deny your future spouse a picnic though. In fact…she very much would like to invite her to the best picnic! She promises to make Cupcake’s food R E A L S P E C I A L to commemorate the occasion. She’ll make it so good, it would be to D I E for…

———————————————————————

Your cookies could only internally cringe when Crowned Cupcake arrived on the train and was already hovering around you. She went on a long speech about the fairy tale romance of a princess meeting the one she loves being a reality for her. Financier’s self-discipline was TESTED with how much Crowned was putting her hands on you.

Almost as if she sensed it, Crowned Cupcake started to giggle, her back towards the envious crowd of cookies. She turned back towards them, with wide eyes and creepy smile, her right eye twitching.

“Oh? Am I sensing objections between me and my dearest being together…? If that’s the case…”

She put away her staff…before slowly pulling out a sword from behind her, with dry strawberry jam staining the blade, her smile growing more deranged.

“I’m more than happy to settle any differences. Dungeon or execution..? Hehe…”

[aitheria]

Christmas Plans

Momo and you hosted a Christmas party for her coworkers, little did you know Aizen had his own plans this holiday season

Tags: NSFW, Modern AU, Aizen x Fem!Reader, slight manipulation, oral (fem recieving), biting, mild alcohol abuse, spanking, slight degradation Aizen is slight yandere? Aizen is slightly OOC? unprotected sex,fingering, slight praise kink am I doing these tags right??

This was not how the department director of a Fortune 500 company usually spent his Christmas but here he was, peering over his glasses at the pretty little present before him all wrapped in smiles and obliviousness.

It all started when he purposely left his computer screen up on his desk, he had spent a few minutes Googling “Christmas party ideas”. His receptionist couldn’t help herself when she peered over his shoulder and asked “Would you like to have a holiday party, boss?”. Aizen looked up at Momo, her brown eyes sparkling and eager to please. He quite liked her, her naïve nature was just so lovely.

“Hm? Oh no I couldn’t, I likely have work to do” he stated, feigning a laugh and pushing his glasses back up his nose. Momo stood back, the determination on her face said it all.

“No I’ll invite everyone in the office over! Me and (y/n) can probably host everyone in the apartment… it’ll be so much fun!”. Before Aizen could protest Momo ran off to tell everyone in the department about the Christmas Eve party, just as planned.

The cream cashmere sweater was a bit too hot in the 2-bedroom apartment that was packed with far too many coworkers. He sipped on his sake, feeling the warmth soothe his agitation. This was taking too long, the giggling, the gossip and the stupid party games Renji brought were juvenile. At least he learned you were bad at games of chance, he tucked that tidbit away for later.

The drinking was getting heavier as the night dragged on, Gin had brought over an entire liquor store, bought on his credit card of course. He watched you sipping the wine, giggling with Momo over a stuffed animal Rangiku had bought you. It was ugly but you held it close to your chest with pride even as the others teased you.

Aizen glared at his watch, willing this to go just a bit quicker, between the wait he plastered that small smile he always wore and hunched his shoulders listening to the others talk to him. He was even pulled into a few drinking games; Momo had lost terribly. Just as planned.

Tosen had been the first to leave prompting everyone to look at their cellphones and complain about the late hour, snow was falling now on the city and some needed to take a taxi or train back. Rangiku was hanging on you, snuggled up to your chest. The black sweater dress you wore was riding up ever so slightly from your seat on the floor and Aizen couldn’t stop himself from licking his bottom lip.

“C’mere let’s go now” Gin dragged up Rangiku from the floor into his arms. “Is ‘bout time we get goin’ is late. Right boss?” he smiled up at Aizen, the wicked little secret passed between them.

 “Ah you’re right...” Aizen began “I’ll be leaving shortly, I just want to make sure Miss Hinamori is alright, you two leave first” Aizen practically shoved them out the apartment door, waving goodbye before shutting and locking it.

“You can go” you stood up, cheeks flushed, you pulled down your dress staring at the disarray of the apartment, the music still blasting in the background. “I can take care of her, I’ve seen her worse” you hiccupped.

 Aizen’s chest ached at how you looked at your friend, he hated having to see you share that smile with anyone but him. He had met you when he met Momo, you sat in the lobby while she had her last interview. Aizen remembers your soft lips and hair shining like an Angel’s halo in the sunlight of the lobby, how your hips moved when you walked through the door spilling your words of encouragement to your friend, how your voice made him stop in his tracks.

He called Momo fifty-three seconds after that telling her she was hired.

“I can help pick up, she hosted this at my behest” Aizen stated, arms open feigning friendliness, convincing you was the hardest part of this plan.

You sighed, covering your friend with a blanket, putting a pillow under her head after getting her up onto the couch.

“She talks about you so much y’know, Boss this and that let’s give him a good Christmas. She worked overtime to buy you that scarf there, isn’t that sweet?” you pressed, Aizen knew this game well. The game of a friend trying to set up the other one with their crush, too bad it wouldn’t end that way.

Aizen stepped closer, setting the scarf on the dining room table. “And you? What gift did you get me?” He rose a brow, setting the trap.

“Me?” you scoffed “You weren’t the Secret Santa I chose I am not understanding“ your eyebrows knit together, trying to think with the buzz of alcohol clouding your judgement. Aizen was close enough to grab you then, his hand slid up your forearm.

“She lovingly gave me a Christmas party but I’m really hoping I could get something from you...” he looked into your eyes, noting how your lips parted unintentionally.

“I haven’t had such a fun Christmas before (y/n) I was just thinking of how you could make it magical as they say” his breath fanned over your face, as he gripped your wrist softly, tracing a finger over your pulse.

It was running like a rabbits, good.

“Ai-Aizen we shouldn’t! Momo is here and she’s the one who-“your words were stopped when he kissed you. Softly at first, bringing his other hand to hold your head still while he ran his tongue over your teeth and pushed his way into your mouth.

This was taking too long, and he was getting bored.

He pulled away, watching you gasp for air. You look frazzled and confused when you looked between him and the innocent sleeping on the couch. “We should stop...” you began but Aizen pulled you by the arm to your bedroom, he tossed you on your bed and shut the door behind him.

He noted that on your dresser is where the Christmas radio was playing, he turned it up a bit.

You sat up then, more sober than before “this isn’t funny Aizen, I know you’re her boss but not mine” you glared at him, cute he thought.

“I know you’re recently single, this is a mutual benefit. I’m sure your pussy aches for some cock” his words were blunt, but they had the right effect as you flushed red.

“That’s not appropriate stop this” you argued but he pushed you back down, his body covering yours. His hands already pulling at the tights you had on, his nails making crescents in your skin.

“I never said I was on the nice list and judging by the look of it neither are you” Aizen whispered into the crook of your neck, leaving bruising bites and kisses. You smelt so good, your skin tasted so sweet and your soft moans were almost enough to send him over the edge.

He sat back then, spreading your legs and ripping the pantyhose right over your crotch. The small wet spot there was just as planned.

“I’m going to open my gift now” he mused, pulling off his glasses and pushing a hand through his hair. He pulled your panties to the side before taking a taste, at the flick of his tongue you moaned.

“Stop wa-wait!” you tried to pull your legs back together to no avail he was ravishing you. How many times had he stroked his cock to this exact scene? The tears in your eyes made him so impossibly hard, he could barely contain himself.

He worked on your clit while pushing one finger inside of you, each swirl of his tongue over that bundle of nerves caused you to shiver involuntarily. He inserted another finger in you, scissoring and pumping slowly.

“Aizen please...” you hiccupped.

“It’s Sosuke” he pulled back giving your pussy a slap “try again, love”

It took a few slaps and a harsh bite to your inner thigh before you moaned his name. “I’m cumming Sosuke fuck fuck” you cried as he lapped at you, a man quenching his thirst.

He wanted you to taste yourself on his lips, his fingers. He came up and kissed you first, then forced his digits into your mouth to lick and suck clean.

“What a naughty girl, letting her best friends crush fuck her, a depraved slut” he kissed your forehead tenderly something about that defeated little stare of yours had him drunk on lust.

He lifted up the hem of your dress, peeling it off completely. He ran a hand over your breasts unclasping the bra with practiced ease. His long fingers played with a nipple, the other hard bud tasted so good between his teeth. You moaned in pain something between that and pleasure, the exact place he wanted you.

He sat back admiring his work along your body, he didn’t know the time but it had to have been late. He had bitten, kissed or bruised enough of you that you wouldn’t be able to hide the marks, his personal wrapping paper. Just as planned

“You gave me such a lovely gift (y/n) should I return the favor?” he murmured in your ear, as you tried to squirm away.

“Ah...we don’t do that” Aizen gripped your neck tightly till you obeyed and looked at him.

“Look at me love, I want to give you your Christmas present now watch” he smiled then, eyes cruel with amusement and lust watching you watch him strip.

His cock stood hard and straight, pre cum leaking. He watched it sink into eyes, the sight of the inevitable.

“Spread them” he commanded, pulling your legs apart when you took too long. The sweat ran across your brow, your breasts rose with your heart rate and a shiver ran down your spine.

Aizen couldn’t think of a sight more beautiful than the snow falling behind you out the bedroom window and your body. He watched the snow fall as he thrust into you.

“Fuuuuck” he growled low as your pussy clenched around him, he sat still for a moment letting himself adjust to how tight you were before he set his pace.

“It hurts” you panted staring up at him “please it -ah!ah!” you began to scream as he put a hand over your mouth.

“Whores don’t get to cry, enjoy it” Aizen glared down at you, your pussy clenching around him each time he pulled out and shoved himself back in. He had another idea in his head though, how he wanted to fuck you.

He pulled out and flipped you around. Your soaked pussy leaked, glistening in the dimness of the room.

“Aizen...?” your head peeked up, looking back, questioning if this was over. Just as planned.

Aizen rubbed the head against your pussy, feeling your shiver. He had your arms behind your back, both wrists under one hand.

“Beg” he commanded

“I-I” you began as a slap hit your ass.

“I -I” he mocked “Beg, don’t make me repeat myself. I am just trying to give you your gift” he feigned a hurt tone. You wiggled your hips for a minute before surrendering your pride.

“Please give me my Christmas present” slap! He smacked your ass again and you whimpered. “You’re missing a part” he scolded.

“Please... Sosuke?” you guessed correct as he pushed himself all the way inside, he mentally complimented himself for turning up the radio, your moans mixed with the music in his ears.

“Good girl, that’s right take my cock” he pushed into you, unrelenting. A bead of sweat ran down his face, he leaned forward to push your face into the pillows. Your hips began pushing back then, ruining the rhythm but giving him he win.

“Are you enjoying it (y/n)? I picked it out just for you, planned a whole fucking month for this sat here and drank shitty liquor-“Aizen rambled on, he knew you were too fucked out to care but someone had to hear him.

“Love it s'much” you cried, drool dribbling down your chin as you looked back at him, his game was almost over.

“Hold on just a bit more, I’ll let you cum again for being a good girl let you cum on my hah cock” he was so close, he licked his lips giving a few final thrusts and leaning forward to rub your clit.

You instantly gripped the pillows, hands free “pleasee” you begged feeling his cock twitch. You finished first, your pussy convulsing around his cock as he released inside of you.

Aizen pulled out after he grew softer, but not before marking up your back side. He didn't care to clean you up either, the fun was over.

“Hmm… you may have received two presents (y/n) such a lucky girl” he grabbed your face leaving once last bruising kiss on your sleeping lips. Then he reached to put on his glasses and fix his hair, he mulled it over for a moment before taking a picture of your beautiful, ruined body.

click!

He tidied himself and left Momo and you both asleep in your bed. Locking the door behind him as he walked into the chilly December night.

Just as planned.

(I also want to believe this asshole ripped up the stuffed animal before leaving just to be mean and petty)

[caelisblade]

¡! study sesh | alhaitham

cw: unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it everyone); edging; fingering, fem!reader with no specific pronouns, he calls you princess, repost from my old blog, yaesnovels

sometimes you refused to believe that your boyfriend was this hot. 

you were so lost in thoughts while eyeing him up and down, mesmerized by how incredible his body looked like when he was relaxed, that you didn’t even notice him looking at you with a smirk at first. heat crept up your cheeks when you finally did notice his knowing grin and you looked away quickly. 

“you okay? you’ve been staring at me for a while now”, alhaitham chuckled, before he grabbed his book again and continued reading as if nothing happened. 

was he being serious right now? 

“no, i’m not okay. pay attention to me”, you whined, you were so bored from studying all day and wanted to spend some time with your boyfriend after he had finally agreed to go to bed. though, you both were just laying in bed now – you just relaxing as you scrolled through your phone. he, however, was more interested in his stupid book that it made you want to just take it from him and throw it away. 

“let me finish reading my book and i’ll do anything you ask me to”, he suggested. you looked at how far he was in the book and shook your head as a no when you saw that he was only halfway through. it’d take him all evening and half of the night to get through it — too long to wait up. 

“nope. i refuse. your book can wait, i can’t.” 

you grinned triumphantly when he spread his arms out as an offer for a big hug and cuddles and immediately sat on his lap. you loved the warmth of his body when he put his arm around you and… grabbed his book again? 

you groaned in disbelief. he couldn’t be for real right now, right? 

“what? i told you i was going to finish reading my book, didn’t i?”, he laughed, pinching your cheek with his other hand. 

“yes, but…”, you sighed, not finishing your sentence, trying to accept your fate. 

“aw, sweetheart”, he couldn’t help his grin when he saw you pouting. “we can cuddle while i read, though. your cuddles are my most favorite thing in the world.” 

you rolled your eyes in annoyance, your hand slowly wandering down his chest and stomach, until you reached his crotch. alhaitham looked at you with an arched eyebrow, his gaze practically warning you not to but you always had loved to tease him until he snapped. 

“sweetheart, you don’t want to do this”, he grunted when you palmed his cock with a grin on your lips. “you really don’t want to go there.” 

“what if i do?”, you challenged him. “read your book. since it’s much more interesting than me.” 

you slowly pulled the hem of his shirt up a bit to lean down and plant soft kisses over his toned stomach, moving even lower slowly. 

“okay, you win. let me finish this chapter and i will go down on you until you’ve at least come three times just on my tongue”, he groaned when you started massaging his crotch again. “is that a good enough compromise for you?” 

“i mean, sure. but i’m not stopping”, you challenged him again, riling him up until he couldn’t take it anymore. “aw, you’re already getting hard from this alone? but i haven’t even started actually teasing you, babe.” 

“for fuck’s sake”, he groaned, carelessly throwing his book on the nightstand and pulling you up so that he could kiss you properly. 

you practically felt all of his pent-up need for you just by how desperate his kiss was. you couldn’t possibly imagine that leaving kisses over his stomach and slowly palming his cock got him this needy; he probably just wanted to tease you for wanting his attention like this. 

and now he was in that position he originally wanted you to be. 

you moaned into the kiss as he turned you both around so that you were beneath him and he started grinding his hips against yours. not wanting to drag this out much more, he pulled your shorts down and pulled your panties aside. 

“i should edge you just because you were acting like such a brat, hun”, he grunted against your ear. “how about i keep on bringing you to the edge, over and over, and don’t ever let you come, hm? until you already make a mess of the sheets without ever really having the luxury of coming like my pretty and good slut.” 

“no, please, okay, i’m sorry”, you whined, shaking your head because you knew he was the most patient person you had ever known – he would never get tired of seeing your teary cheeks and shaking body underneath him. 

“mhm, now you’re sorry, huh? thought so”, he smirked triumphantly, planting soft kisses over your tummy before he went down to lick up a stripe over your folds before he started teasing your clit with his tongue. he was holding your legs up as he dived in like a man starving; eyes rolling back as he delved his tongue inside, making you sob in pleasure. 

“i’m so obsessed with how good you taste”, he groaned, “i won’t ever get tired of this.”

“please”, you whined, fingers buried in his hair, pulling on the strands. “i’m sorry for teasing you like that, please just let me come.” 

“mhm, nope. i think i prefer edging you for now”, he grinned, making you roll your eyes at him. “you’re just so cute when you’re annoyed, sweetheart.” 

“well, i guess, you just don’t have it in you to make me scream your name over and over, huh?”, your only way to convince him was really to play with his ego. he had proven his ability to make you lay boneless underneath him and just take it like his good girl so often already, sometimes even multiple times a day, but you just knew where to attack to make him go feral. 

his eyes darkened. “oh, honey. i wouldn’t have gone that far if i were you”, he cooed in an innocent tone before he got up from the bed, turning you around as he pulled you to the edge of the bed, lifting your hips up. he was softly massaging your ass before he spanked you, catching you in total surprise. “you like that, don’t you, love? i know you do, don’t even deny it.”

two of his fingers were quickly inside of your cunt, thrusting in and out with no mercy as you couldn’t keep yourself up any longer and just gave in, face down, buried in the pillows and moans muffled by you biting into the fabric. 

“don’t. you. dare. head up, love. don’t you dare try to muffle those pretty noises of yours.” 

you immediately lifted your head, as he pulled out his fingers and you only heard the sound of fabric shuffling around before you felt his tip against your entrance and with one hard and swift thrust, he was buried deep inside of you. 

“al- alhaitham”, you whimpered his name, the way he was buried deep inside of you had tears almost running down your cheeks in pleasure. “you’re so– so deep.” 

“damn right, i am. but you’re happy about that, aren’t you? all you wanted was for me to bury my cock deep inside of you and fuck you until you’re a brainless little whore for me, didn’t you?”

with each thrust, he hit your g-spot, having you so sensitive and dripping for him with your slick. “yes, yes, oh, archons, yes”, you whimpered. 

after the relentless study sessions he made you go through today, this was the perfect way of him rewarding you for holding on so patiently. and he made sure to show you how proud he was of you. 

once alhaitham turned you around so that he could face you, he leaned down with his body, your arms immediately wrapping around his broad shoulders as you locked him in his spot with your legs around his hips, just wanting to be as close to you as possible in that very moment. the intensity of his gaze on you had you weak in your own body; he was looking at you with so much love in his eyes, it was driving you crazy. 

“i love you”, he mumbled as he continued with his slow, yet hard thrusts, having slowed down to edge you once more. alhaitham always loved to edge you until you were begging him to make you come; he knew he had full control over your body whenever he fucked you and he took advantage of that. 

sometimes, you were too impatient to handle his actions – you’d attempt to turn you both around (he’d let you) and ride him (he’d grab your hips and move his hips in rhythm with your movements). 

“i’m so close, hun, so, so close”, he groaned, burying his face against your neck as he hugged you tight against his firm body and even biting your skin as he finally came inside of you, filling you up with a loud groan and waiting a moment to calm down before he pushed you underneath him again. 

“now, let me pamper like you deserve, my beautiful princess. make you come over and over like you deserve this reward for being so patient with me all day”, he mumbled as he thrusted his cock back inside, lifting your legs and wrapping them around his waist. 

he was going to make a total mess out of you; until you were too tired to move a muscle. there was no going back once he started.