#Still unsure if the way I’m writing them is good though

[telvannitea]

pairing: horangi x fem!reader

notes: 18+ mdni, part 2 to this, as always with anything i write with horangi - please excuse my korean

wc: 1.7k

Anytime KorTac deploys with the 141, an avalanche of work follows. As much as you lovingly respect (and fear) Kate Laswell, if she sends one more ‘urgent’ message to your inbox, you might just scream. You need nothing less than a hot bath and a nightcap.

You’re all packed up, ready to turn off the lights in your office and head home, when your phone vibrates in your pocket. You deflate with a long-suffering sigh. Only one person texts you on your personal cell while you’re on base. You count to three before you check your messages.

쓰레기 (6:33 pm)

뭐해

*what are you doing

Nononono, your inner voice of reason screams at you. You don’t have time for this bullshit today. Get your shit and get the fuck out of there. Now.

you are typing…

Me (6:34 pm)

ㄲㅈ

*go away/fuck off (shorthand)

Halfway down the hall, heading to the elevator, you pause. Past experience has taught you that Horangi is incessant – giving him the cold shoulder only emboldens him. You know for a fact that he’s on his way to find you at this very moment. You glance at the door leading to the stairway, unsure of how to avoid a tiger on the hunt. 

If he corners you in the elevator, you’re done for.

Fuck it, you decide, pulling the door open with more force than necessary, aggravated that you have to go out of your way to avoid a man. A roguishly handsome man with a sinful tongue, you recall with heat on your face.

“Inconsiderate prick,” you huff to yourself, thankful you chose to wear boots today as you stomp down the concrete steps. For weeks he had you charmed, so eager to give you pleasure rather than receive it, and you let him, every single time. You might still be if you hadn’t passed by the mess that day, hadn’t heard Horangi brag to his fellow soldiers how he had you wrapped around his finger. He described every filthy little thing that made you whimper and keen for him, the smugness in his voice unmistakable, goading the rest on to “try her out yourself”. The shame roars in your ears just thinking about it.

He avoided you for a while after that. Everyone did – even poor König, who had done his best to ensure that your transition into KorTac went smoothly. The primal fury that became your mask every time someone so much as breathed in your direction kept them all away. Nobody was going to drive you away from a paycheck, no matter how much of an asshole they were. You were content to stew in your hatred and frustration, waiting for the first chance to take a well-deserved vacation.

But Kim Hongjin’s ego wouldn’t allow this. Unread text messages and unanswered calls (why did you unblock his number?) preceded the gifts, waiting for you in your office when you came in nearly every morning, despite your firm habit of locking the door behind you. To his credit, the gifts were thoughtful: homemade meals (you didn’t even know he cooked, what the hell), an entire book series you had mentioned in passing, new office furniture, the list went on and on. He was bribing you, plain and simple, and doing a damn good job of it.

You reach the ground floor and propel yourself out into the back entrance hall. To your satisfaction, the only ones present are a gaggle of rookies that disperse at your determined approach. Just a few more steps and you’ll be out in the parking lot, in your car and home free. 

A broad shadow cast by the overhead light menaces in your peripheral.

I swear to fucking god, I will go to jail today-

“If you need something, sir, it will have to wait until tomorrow. I’m off-duty.” Your voice is hollow steel. The tiger approaches carefully, footsteps barely audible. You don’t move a muscle, hand poised over the doorknob. 

Just leave! Nothing he has to say is worth hearing.

It’s too late. A hand lands on the door, preventing you from opening it. Thankfully, you don’t flinch, even though his bare forearm is close enough to your face that you can count the pores. He breathes your name against the back of your neck. Your body betrays you, instinctively melting under the rough timbre of his voice.

“Look at me, 자기야.” He begs. You grit your teeth.

“Don’t call me that.” Asshole.

“제발,” he begs, again. Eventually, you turn, keeping your gaze on his masked chin, your expression frosty.

“This is hardly the place for a private conversation…” you trail off because Horangi drops to his knees and pulls his mask down, revealing the puckered scar that flares across his left cheek, the same scar you’ve left shining with your release.

Stop it, you hiss to yourself.

“What I said was unforgivable,” he rasps, like the words hurt to leave his throat. “I betrayed you, disrespected you.” His hands come up and grasp the back of your knees, right under the hem of your skirt. This is a side of Horangi you’ve never seen – defeated, regretful. His eyes glisten. Is he…?

“My ego should have never come before your feelings. I will do anything to prove myself to you. To prove that you can trust me. 용서해주세요. Please.” The tears are falling in earnest now, yet he never breaks eye contact.

You stare back, bewildered. The weight of his sincerity, and the implications behind it, are collapsing on you. Why do you care so much? You want to ask. He made you come a handful of times, that was it; you meant nothing to each other beyond that.

“괜찮아,” you croak, throat dry and tight. “It’s okay,” you repeat. “Hongjin, you don’t have to do this.”

He’s on his feet in an instant, cradling your face in his hands. Gently, reverently, he swipes a thumb across your bottom lip. Asking for permission, you realize. You pull him in by his tight shirt, seeking his mouth. He chokes back a moan before curling his tongue between your lips, insistent hands roaming, groping underneath your chest, at the back of your thighs. He settles on the curve of your backside, thick fingers branding you through the fabric of your skirt, and pushes your hips into his. The full length of him is pressed against your stomach, twitching in his cargo pants. 

“Don’t go home yet,” Hongjin breathes against your lips, slowly rutting himself against you in a torturous cycle. “Stay with me.” He wraps a heavy hand around the back of your neck, tilting your head up to meet his wet puppy dog eyes, blown wide with emotion. “Let me show you how sorry I am. I’ll give it to you any way you want.” You can only bleed out a pathetic whimper in response.

The logical part of you, the side of you that you pride on keeping at the forefront throughout your day-to-day activities, is shrieking at you that sex immediately after a shameless slut like Horangi pours his heart out to you is definitely not the best course of action. Meanwhile, the hedonist that lurks just over your shoulder is reminding you of the very thick and very hard dick eagerly waiting for you.

Your core clenches around nothing, and you make your decision.

Three orgasms later, you’re slumped face down on Horangi’s bunk, desperate and panting, bare body covered in sweat. Your tiger is a liar - he has yet to give you what you really want, what you’ve been craving since he hunted you down.

“Hongjin, please, please just fuck me already,” you beg, lifting your ass and presenting your aching cunt, glistening with his spit and your release. You were deluded to believe that Horangi, ravenous Horangi, would have mercy on you.

The bastard laughs lowly, trailing his fingers down your arched back. “Have to make sure you’re wet enough for me,” he coos down at you. “Don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m going to hurt you if you don’t-”

He pushes a thumb into the tight ring of your ass, shutting you up.

“You like that, hmm?” He mumbles, enraptured by the fluttering of your pussy while he plays with your other hole. Your ears catch the clink of a belt coming undone and you can’t help it, you moan and perk your ass out more, taking his thumb right to the base.

“Shit-” Horangi hisses. He shoves his pants and briefs down just far enough to pull out his cock, moving his hands to angle your hips just right. “You are on the pill, right?”

You barely squeak out an answer before he’s gliding in, branding you from the inside out with his rigid heat. You wail at the stretch, reaching out to grip the sheets, “Fuuuuck.” 

Horangi’s grip on you tightens. “Don’t start running now,” he warns and then he’s pumping you into you, wide hips bouncing off the curve of your ass. He isn’t gentle - fingers hooking into the flesh of your hips, burying you into his mattress with each jarring thrust but you scream out your ecstacy all the same. Fuck it if the whole base can hear you vocalizing like a possessed whore. Horangi is hitting spots that haven’t been touched in months, ruining you in real time. You’re already close, sensitive from your earlier orgasms.

You turn to look back, staring directly at Horangi. “기본 좋아,” you whine, wiggling your hips. It has the desired effect - his hand flies up, pinning your head to the bed. He huffs like a beast, thrusts punishing you into a prone position, your clit fluttering against the sheets.

“어디로 할래?” Horangi asks, voice wrecked, movements growing jerky, erratic. He twirls a nipple between his fingers when you don't answer fast enough. “말해봐.”

“In-fuck, inside, please!”

Your walls flutter and pulse around him, milking his cock for every drop, relishing the warmth settling inside you.

It surprises you when Horangi rolls you onto your side, softening dick still burrowed in you, and pulls you close, nuzzling into your hair.

“Fuck, that was good,” he sighs, absentmindedly petting your stomach. You can feel his mess leaking out of you onto the sheets. You grumble about a shower but he just laughs, twining your legs between his.

“나중에,” he promises.

translations:

자기야 = honey/dear 제발 = please (desperate/urgent) 용서해주세요 = please forgive me 괜찮아 = it's okay 기본 좋아 = it feels good 어디로 할래 = where do you want it? 말해봐 = tell me/say it 나중에 = later

[cyber-streak-extra]

So, I decided to make another quick little fic involving the ITP: Happy Ending AU by @maraariana01 and this time, it’s got Funtime Freddy from Count The Ways, aswell :)

Title: A Bear, A Child, & Said Bear’s Way Of Breaking, Entering, & Capturing

The animatronic bear stared out at the house, a smirk plastered right on his face. He’d been around the area for quite some time—after simply stumbling across it after wandering around after leaving the old man’s garage.

He already knew who he wanted to get this time—the young boy, Oswald. He’d already been planning everything... he’d just been waiting for the perfect moment.

Funtime Freddy sighed. When it did come down to taking the kid, he would’ve preferred to be able to use his storage tank—but, thanks to Silly Millie, when she entered, she caused it to get stuck.

It was something that the bear only discovered after he’d counted, gotten rid of his boredom, and fulfilled Chilly Milly’s wish. It was all still a win-win in his eyes. But he wished she hadn’t gotten it stuck. No matter what he tried, it stayed that way.

Oh well, Funtime Freddy thought. I can still manage.

...

Oswald sat at his bed, drawing some sketches. His phone was in his lap, texting Ben—although his friend hadn’t texted back yet. He could hear Jinx purring from where she lay on the ground.

He was waiting for Spring Bonnie to finish up with some chores—as the rabbit was going to drive him to go pick up Ben. Through his closed door, he could hear the vacuum.

Oswald was glad that everything was normal again—...well, as normal as life could be after he went through the ball pit, and obtained a third parent in Spring Bonnie.

Everything else was still pretty normal. School had started back up, he’d been visiting and chatting with Ben more—who had returned from his little vacation not too long ago. Spring Bonnie, Jackie, and Thomas all seemed to be comfortable with each other.

He knew it was something that took time getting adjusted to. Oswald was happy that it went smoother than he had thought it would when he talked to the two of them, explaining little parts of what had happened that day.

...Even now, he had never outright explained the ball pit. Sure, he told them both that he found Spring Bonnie at Jeff’s Pizza, but Oswald never explained the time traveling part. He didn’t even know how.

Click.

Oswald paused. What was that? He frowned. It sounded like it was coming from behind him. His window? Before he could turn, he started to hear the sound of hissing.

“Jinxie?” He glanced down at the cat, who was backing up slowly—she looked on edge, and her hissing didn’t stop. “What’s the m-“

Oswald’s eyes widened when he was suddenly grabbed by a cold, metallic, and somewhat broken arm. A gasp had escaped him when he was lifted up, but he could tell it was muffled.

His eyes darted around, trying to get a full look, and what had grabbed him was obviously an animatronic—but not the one that he was used to seeing, or liked seeing. Just like the arm, this animatronic was damaged, and he seemed to be a bear.

The animatronic bear chuckled, although it was obvious that he was trying to keep himself quiet. He was just barely succeeding. “Hello, Little Ocelot!~” He whispered—or tried to, voice glitching.

Barely managing to see anything else behind the large bear, Oswald noticed his window. It was fully opened, but it looks like some parts of it had been broken in the process.

Oswald wanted to get away. He wanted away from this bear. He could feel himself moving around... but it wasn’t working. The bear’s grip was strong. What did he want?

Oswald didn’t want to find out.

Could he yell for Spring Bonnie? He knew he sounded muffled... but what if the bunny still heard him? How good was the bunny’s hearing? He didn’t know.

For a moment, Oswald thought about trying to call someone—but that was quickly thrown out the window when he realized that he couldn’t. His phone, originally in his lap before he was grabbed, was now abandoned on the floor.

He could only think that, if he could grab it, that he would either end up messaging Ben—who seemed to have texted back now—or his parents—who were out on a date. What would they do?

“Squirmy one, aren’t ya, Little Ocelot?” The bear chuckled again, still seemingly trying to make sure that he remained quiet enough. Oswald glanced around, eyes spotting the bear’s stomach. What was leaking out of it...?

...

Spring Bonnie had been vacuuming the whole house. He’d decided to do some chores a couple of hours, and then he planned on driving with his son and Ben. He’d promised to do so after he was finished.

He was in the living room—which was the last area he needed to get done. Earlier, Oswald’s room had been where he had started, and he went from there.

Spring Bonnie’s ears twitched, and he paused. He thought he heard something. Was it just the vacuum? It was loud. He’d almost forgotten that he had the TV on, too—a rom-com, which he was glancing up at and watching bits of as he did chores.

He continued vacuuming for a second or two... but then the bunny’s ears twitched again. The bunny was hearing something. It wasn’t coming from the vacuum or the TV, though. It was... what was it?

The bunny pressed a button, turning the vacuum off, and setting it carefully on the ground. The TV’s volume was quite low, so he didn’t need to turn it further down—he’d mainly been relying on the subtitles earlier.

Hissing. The bunny heard hissing. And... talking? Talking. It was a little distant and somewhat muffled from where he was, but he knew that’s what it had to be.

The hissing had to be Jinx—he’d grown accustomed to that noise. But the talking? It wasn’t Oswald. It wasn’t Jackie, or Thomas. It wasn’t Ben. He could tell that. He knew all of their voices well... but this wasn’t any of them.

Son? Spring Bonnie frowned in concern. He could feel his ears start to lower. He should go check on him. He hoped that it was nothing—he hoped that nothing was wrong—nothing was going on with his son.

Moving the vacuum out of his path, the bunny started walking down the hallway to reach his son’s room.

...

When he opened the door, Spring Bonnie nearly stepped on Jinx’s tail—but spotted the hissing cat before that, and stepped out of the way. Once out of her way, the cat ran out.

He watched her leave, confused, before turning back around and looked ahead. That confusion quickly turned to horror from the sight in front of him.

Funtime Freddy, beside the bed, with his son squirming around in the bear’s grasp. Both’s attention were turned to Spring Bonnie when he had entered the room.

Spring Bonnie! Oswald felt relieved.

“Oh, why hello!” Funtime Freddy knew of him. Knew of how the bunny came from the pit—pretended to be Thomas—before truly joining the family. He knew how he was essentially a third parent.

Oswald thought he heard a... growl?

Spring Bonnie took a step forward, and Funtime Freddy started moving, too—towards the direction of Oswald’s door. “I wouldn’t get too close, bun-bun!” He snickered.

The bunny stared. “I have plans,” He started, still slowly making his way to Oswald’s door—the smirk remaining on his face. “You wouldn’t want your Little Ocelot to go...” He used his arm without the hand, seemingly doing a ‘slicing’ motion around his own neck.

“But, maybe it would be fun to make you count the ways with me, bun-bun...” He laughed, smirk growing. He wondered what Spring Bonnie would choose. He also wondered what the kid would want. But, he had different plans.

He was here to get the kid and leave, before resuming everything. Silly Milly shouldn’t have gotten his storage tank stuck. If not for her, this would be a little easier. But, he had fun with her.

Oswald noticed how Spring Bonnie was beginning to leak. There was always little bits dripping, but massive leaking usually seemed to happen, he noticed, when the bunny was angry or sad.

Teeth. Oswald and Funtime Freddy saw all of the teeth stored in the bunny after he unhinged his jaw. Angry. Oswald hadn’t seen him like that since the night he went back to Jeff’s Pizza to get his dad.

“Oh, you don’t like that, bun-bun?” Funtime Freddy giggled.

Spring Bonnie’s hands bawled into fists. Just as the bunny started to get closer, the bear ran out of Oswald’s bedroom door. Spring Bonnie followed.

He entered the living room, looking around—he didn’t see Funtime Freddy or his son yet. He could feel himself leaking further.

Just as the bunny took another step, he heard a glitchy little laughter, followed by footsteps, and the feeling of something hitting him from behind—it felt... electrifying. Shocking.

...

Spring Bonnie blinked. He was leaning against one of the walls in the living room. He wiped at some of the liquid agony and remnant, before hurriedly looking around. Son...! What had the bear done?

Standing up fully, the bunny hurriedly began looking all over the house. He went back to his son’s room, checking under the bed, and in the closet, before moving to the rest of the house.

Oswald... Spring Bonnie could feel himself shaking as he kept checking the house. His ears were lowered. He could feel so much liquid leaking from his body—eyes especially.

As he reached the last room that he had to check, Thomas and Jackie’s room, Spring Bonnie leaned against the wall as his body started shaking further. How could he let this happen? How could he let his son get taken?

What was going to happen...?

Son... I’m so sorry...

He couldn’t find anything in the house—no hints or traces of where Funtime Freddy could possibly be with his son. Wherever the bear went with Oswald, neither of them were in the house anymore.

Spring Bonnie made a decision. He left through the front door, hurriedly looking around outside—he spent an hour or two doing so. That’s what it felt like.

The bunny was leaking everywhere. He checked the front yard, and the back yard—every area near the house, and even somewhat far away—in hopes that he’d find any sort of clue to where his son and the bear could be.

He found nothing.

Spring Bonnie made his way back home. When he got back, he’d been planning to recheck everywhere. But, as he passed the front door, the bunny fell to his knees.

Jinx meowed sadly from where she lay somewhere in the living room.

He should’ve been able to stop Funtime Freddy. He should’ve been able to stop him from taking his son. The bunny should’ve been able to save his son. Had he failed his son...? What did Funtime Freddy want with him?

Horrible possibilities started throwing themselves into the bunny’s mind—which he attempted to ignore, but... Funtime Freddy could do anything. What if he had already done something? How was he going to find his son?

Spring Bonnie heard the front door open.

...

“Oswald, we’re-“ Thomas started, closing the door behind him and his wife—although he stopped when he spotted Spring Bonnie in the middle of the living room.

He was collapsed on his knees, shaking. Even if the bunny wasn’t facing them, Jackie could tell that he was leaking... something. (What was it called? She’d never asked. Did Spring Bonnie know?)

Most of the leaking, she noticed, was coming from his eyes—it was pouring out like a waterfall. Although she noticed it coming from other parts of him, too. Jackie frowned.

“Spring Bonnie?” She gently called out, approaching the bunny carefully. Thomas stayed where he was, but looked around.

“Spring Bonnie,” The nurse knelt beside the animatronic. “What happened...? What’s wrong?”

The leaking bunny turned slightly to look at Jackie. Messily searching through his pockets of his coat, Spring Bonnie eventually pulled out his note pad and pen.

Jackie and Thomas, who moved a little closer, both watched as the bunny started writing. Although, whatever was leaking ended up hitting the notepad paper. So, the only words that the two could fully read were: “Oswald” “Freddy” and “Captured”.

Spring Bonnie messily flipped to another page on the notepad a second later, and sloppily wrote something else—this time, only two words. But it got the point across. “Son taken.”

“W-What...?” Jackie whispered, horrified, her eyes widening.

He could vaguely hear Thomas say something, too, followed by quick footsteps—from the corner of his eyes, Thomas seemed to be making his way to his son’s room.

Jackie watched her husband for a single moment, before refocusing on the shaking bunny in front of her. “Spring Bonnie, w-“

She was cut off when the bunny moved forward, hugging her—the hug was tight, but he wasn’t hurting Jackie, either. Blinking as her eyes felt watery, Jackie hugged the bunny back.

Jackie had never seen him like this. She rubbed the bunny’s back, closing her eyes. Oswald... please, be okay. What had happened? Why would anyone want to take her son...?

He should’ve stopped the bear before he escaped, Spring Bonnie had thought. He should’ve done... anything. Why did this have to happen? Oswald didn’t deserve anything that the bear may do.

He only hoped that he could get to his son somehow before Funtime Freddy went through with anything...

[inkedinshadows]

Nights and Days

Pairing: Azriel × reader

Summary: Azriel and Y/N are on a mission in Illyria, but as they move from one camp to another, they’re caught in a blizzard and are forced to find shelter in the nearest inn. Thanks to the shadowsinger, there's only one bed.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, p in v, just a sprinkle of shadow play, language, lots of witty banter

Word count: 6.3k

A/N: this is my first time writing smut, so I'd really appreciate it if you let me know what you think 🥺

Groups of rebels had begun to appear all over Illyria, claiming that Rhys was not a good High Lord, that a low-born bastard was not suited to be their general, and that training their women was nothing more than a waste of time.

After two weeks of diplomacy that led to absolutely nothing, Rhys had dispatched the Inner Circle to deal with the rebels. Mor and Amren had stayed in Velaris to make sure nothing happened, but the others had been sent out to Illyria. And Y/N had been paired up with Azriel.

They were flying from one war camp to the next—Y/N trying to focus on anything other than Azriel holding her close as he flew—when it started to snow.

“Is it safe to keep going?” she asked him, glancing at his beautiful wings flapping behind him.

“Would you rather I land now? In the middle of nowhere?” Azriel looked down at her with a little smirk on his face. “Give me some credit, Y/N. I can handle a little snow.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot you’re a big, tough Illyrian warrior. My bad.”

He didn't answer, but she didn't need to look at him to know he was still smirking. That annoyingly attractive smirk always made her want to kiss him. She focused on the forest below, on anything other than his lips and how close they’d be if she would just turn her head his way.

They flew in silence for just a few more minutes before the snow began to fall more heavily. Y/N simply looked at Azriel with a raised eyebrow, not bothering to use words.

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” he said when he noticed her expression, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice. “Camp is not that far. We can still make it.”

“Azriel, did you wake up this morning and just decided to be stupid?” She pointed at the grey sky above them, where more clouds were gathering with the promise of more snow to come. “You see that, right? It’s already late and we both know it’ll only get worse. We won’t reach the next camp before it turns into a blizzard. Besides, I’m freezing my ass off out here.”

His only answer was a low chuckle. “Oh, yeah? The poor princess is freezing her little ass off?”

She smacked him on the shoulder. “My ass is anything but little, shadowsinger. Shouldn’t you find us a shelter or something, instead of making fun of me?”

“Said the one who just called me stupid,” he pointed out. He lifted a brow, flashing her another one of those smirks. “Maybe you should apologize for that, and I might think about landing somewhere.”

She cocked her head, unsure if he was messing around or not. “I refuse to apologize for telling the truth. And you’d better land soon, or I’ll kick your ass when you do.”

Azriel’s laugh echoed in her ears, and it took all her focus not to smile just at that sound she so rarely got to hear. “As if you could actually kick my ass.”

If her arms hadn’t been wrapped around his neck, she would have crossed them over her chest. Or maybe she would have used them to strangle him, if only it wouldn't mean they'd fall out of the sky. Eventually, she settled to roll her eyes again. “Azriel, I’m being serious.”

Though she enjoyed their usual banter and she knew as well as everyone that she could never kick his ass, she hadn’t lied. Even with her Illyrian leathers, she was starting to freeze out there in the snow, and there was no way they would reach their destination without being caught in a full-blown blizzard.

“Relax. Despite what you think, Y/N, I’m not stupid.” He gestured to something below them just as she opened her mouth to protest. “It’s an inn. You would have noticed it already, if only you hadn’t been so busy complaining.”

“Shut up,” she grumbled, squinting to see through the trees and the snow. But as Azriel glided down, she finally saw it. It was a rather large building for an inn in the middle of the woods—many Illyrians probably passed through it—so there was a high chance of finding a couple of rooms to spend the night in.

Azriel landed and gently set her on the ground. Together, they headed for the door and were welcomed inside by the warmth of a fire in the corner of the room. She shook the snow off her hair as she took in their surroundings—a few tables full of Illyrian warriors, most of them drinking and laughing quite loudly.

“We ran out of double rooms.” The innkeeper looked at them as they approached, apparently too bored to even bother with greetings. “But we’ve still got a few single ones.”

Before she could tell him that two rooms were perfect, Azriel was already answering. “We need only one, actually.”

Next thing she knew, he had grabbed her hand and was leading her up the stairs, a key now clutched in his fingers. She waited for the door to close behind them before she turned to him with a frown. “What the hell was that? Why only one room?”

Azriel tossed his pack on the floor and replied as if the answer was obvious. “The hall was packed with drunk Illyrians.”

“So?”

He looked at her then, and she couldn’t quite understand what she saw in his eyes. Was it concern? Or frustration because she still didn’t realize something he thought was so simple?

“I’m not letting you sleep in another room alone, when a bunch of drunk Illyrians have just seen you, probably the only female here, walk in.”

Well, that was not what she expected. But as she thought it over, she couldn’t deny he had a point. She was able to hold her own in a fight, just not against fully trained warriors, and she didn't want to take any risk, especially when it was just one night.

Not knowing what to answer, she looked around the room, which consisted of only one bed and a small dresser—lame and boring, but it would do. Except for the one single bed.

She watched as Azriel sat on an old rug, the only decoration there was. “And what are you doing now, exactly?”

He shrugged, with that same expression that seemed to tell her the answer was obvious. “I'll take the floor, you take the bed.”

She almost laughed at that. “You can't sleep on the floor, not with your wings. I'll do it.”

“I'll be fine,” he replied, and extended his wings behind him as if to prove it. “Why would you want to sleep on the floor anyway?”

“Because I don't want you to do it,” she answered matter-of-factly. “Now get your ass off that floor, shadowsinger.”

Azriel did no such thing and instead leaned back against the wall and extended his legs in front of him. Her gaze dropped to his thighs, the muscles shifting with the movement.

“Why would I do that? It's comfortable here.”

She looked up again, her arms crossed over her chest. “It's not and you know it.”

Both of them too stubborn to give in, they glared at each other. She made no move to sit on the bed, and he made no move to get up. They probably could have spent hours like this, but she couldn't stand the idea of Azriel sleeping on a half-consumed rug, even if it meant she'd do it.

“You wouldn't want to face the rebels with a sore body tomorrow, would you?” she tried, hoping it'd make him think straight.

“I've slept on the ground before, I'll be fine. Big, tough Illyrian warrior, remember?” His lips twitched up, and amusement glinted in his hazel eyes. “Just take the bed, Y/N. We have a long day ahead of us.”

“Which is exactly why you should sleep on the bed, Az,” she snapped before taking a deep breath and speaking more calmly. “I'm just the backup. It doesn't matter if I'm sore.”

“It matters to me.”

His words hung heavily in the air, and she swallowed, not sure how to react to them or to the fervor in his voice. There was an intensity in his eyes that she’d never seen before and, unable to his gaze any longer, she blinked.

“You’re not going to budge, are you?” she asked with a sigh, her arms falling back to her sides.

“No.” And there it was again, that teasing grin she usually wanted to kiss. Right now, though, she felt more like punching him for his stubbornness. It outmatched even her own. “So I suggest you listen and take the bed. You need some rest.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, and you don't?”

This time, it was his turn to sigh and roll his eyes at her. “Y/N, I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse conditions, and it’s only just one night anyway.”

And yet, the thought of him sleeping on that rug while she was all comfortable on the bed didn’t sit right with her. Just like her well-being mattered to him, his mattered to her. Maybe it was because he’d admitted it, or because he’d rather sleep on the floor than let her stay in another room when the place was full of Illyrians. Or maybe she was just trying to find some kind of excuse, but the words were out before she could think better of them.

“Sleep on the bed. With me.”

Azriel’s eyes widened, and she immediately regretted even thinking about it. “I beg your pardon?”

“I mean… it’s just…” she stuttered, her cheeks heating up as she looked away. What a huge mistake she’d just made. Just because he cared about her didn’t mean he’d want to share a bed with her. What was she even thinking? “I know it’s small and there’s not much space, but I just… I thought it’d still be more comfortable than the floor… you know?” Her voice trailed off, and she stared down at her feet.

Deafening silence filled the room, and then Azriel finally spoke, his tone cautious. “And that’s all you were asking?”

She frowned, not sure what else she might have been asking. But she quickly realized what words she had used and how that could potentially sound like something more than an offer to share the bed. Sleep on the bed. With me. Cauldron, she was so stupid. Her face turned an even deeper shade of red. When was the last time she had blushed?

“No, I wasn’t— that’s not what I—” She couldn’t get the words out, and it didn’t help that her mind was now wandering toward certain scenarios that involved the two of them, a bed, and very little clothing. She turned away from him and mumbled, “Whatever.”

“I think this is the first time I've ever seen you speechless.” There was amusement in his voice, and she knew the asshole was smirking once more. “You should watch your word choice if that’s not what you intended to ask.”

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” she murmured as she reached for her pack, but when she took her nightgown out, she realized there was no place to go to get changed. How was she supposed to change in front of him after such an embarrassing mistake? So instead, she delayed the moment she’d have to do it by trying to explain again. “It wasn’t my intention to imply anything. It came out wrong.”

She could feel his eyes on her as he answered. “I noticed. What was your intention, then?”

The look she gave him was one of annoyance. He knew exactly what her intention was, and he just liked to mess with her. She glared at him for a moment before she replied, “I meant what I said. I don’t want you to sleep on that rug, and you don’t want me to do it either. So, the only other option is that we share the bed.”

“Mh, I see.” His lips tugged up in a self-satisfied grin that just made her want to hit him to see it disappear. Not that she could hit him even if she really wanted to. Azriel would block her blow with little effort. But how could she have ever wanted to kiss him?

“So sleeping next to me is the only option?” he added.

“You know what?” she snapped, gesturing to the rug where he was still sitting like it was the most comfortable place he’d ever been. “I changed my mind. Sleep on the floor. I don’t care.”

He chuckled. Chuckled. Cauldron boil her.

She turned her back on him and, without giving it any second thought, she began undressing. She hadn’t realized how warm the Illyrian leathers were until she shivered as soon as she took them off.

“It seems like you’re cold,” Azriel drawled from behind her.

“I’m not,” she replied. She put on her nightgown and sought refuge under the covers. “Not for long, anyway.”

How was Azriel going to spend the night on a rug, without a blanket? When he didn’t answer, she considered maybe asking him one last time to share the bed. Out of the goodness of her heart, she supposed.

But then Azriel spoke again, amusement clear in his voice. And the goodness of her heart be damned.

“You're cold, aren't you?”

She sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around her body. “No.”

“Liar.”

“Prick.”

“I'm the prick? You're the one who suggested we should share the bed.”

Y/N resisted the urge to turn on her side and face him. Maybe it was stupid and childish of her, but she kept lying with her back to him. “I don't see how that makes me a prick, Az. Besides, you're the one who made fun of me because of it, which means you're the prick here.”

His voice still carried a sense of playfulness as he answered. “I made fun of you because you stumbled over your words like a fool. It was quite amusing, to be honest.”

Instead of replying, she slid a hand out from under the blanket and flipped him off over her shoulder. As she hid it again and curled up in the bedsheets, Azriel’s soft laugh made her smile despite herself.

She heard some noise and, assuming he was getting changed and ready for the night, she closed her eyes. But her mind was running wild.

Images of his hands on her. Of her hands on him. Their lips touching, first tenderly, then passionately. Their bodies pressed together as pleasure overcame them. All scenarios she had never let herself fully consider before, now evoked by Azriel's misunderstanding of her words. Scenarios she now knew for sure would never happen if the way he'd teased her for even suggesting sharing the bed was any indication.

“Make room for me?”

His voice was so close to her that she started, her head snapping around to find him standing next to the bed. He had taken off his leathers and was now wearing loose pants and a shirt. His wings were tucked in tight behind him—those beautiful wings that she knew were bigger than Cassian's and Rhysand's. She still wasn't sure she should believe Mor about the correlation between an Illyrian's wingspan and other body parts.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you,” he added with a small smile.

“You and your absurdly silent steps,” she grumbled, but she was already moving to the other side of the bed.

Only that there wasn’t exactly an ‘other side’, not when the bed was barely big enough for both of them. As Azriel slipped under the sheets, she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. His familiar scent of night-chilled mist and cedar filled her senses, and his warmth seeped through her, chasing away the remnants of the cold that even the blanket hadn’t yet managed to rid her of.

“Tell me you don’t move a lot when you sleep,” she said as he settled behind her. “Because if you push me off, I’ll make you regret not staying on that rug.”

His laugh skittered down her back. “You always have something to say, don't you?”

“I promise you, the moment there will be nothing to say, I will shut up,” she replied with a chuckle.

Silence fell and Y/N nestled more against his side. She just couldn't help it. Feeling him so close, their bodies pressing together... it was intoxicating, and she wanted to stay like that forever. She hesitated a moment, and then she decided that she might as well do it: grabbing his arm, she wrapped it around her waist and laced their fingers together, their intertwined hands resting against her stomach. Azriel tensed behind her, and she thought he might pull away, but he didn’t. Instead, he released a deep breath that tickled the back of her neck.

“I would never let you fall off the bed,” he murmured. His voice was so close to her ear that it almost made her shiver. And as if to show he really meant what he said, Azriel draped his wings around her.

Y/N suddenly had a lump in her throat. Being enveloped in his wings was somehow more intimate than lying so close to each other. “Glad to hear it,” was all she could think about. After a second, she added in a whisper, “And thank you for not letting me sleep alone.”

Azriel’s arm tightened around her waist, his breath warm against her neck. When he spoke, she could tell by his tone alone that he wanted to say more than just, “You're welcome.” She didn't push him though. He'd tell her when and if he decided to.

She closed her eyes and tried to fall asleep, letting the sound of the blizzard outside lull her, but with Azriel holding her it was nearly impossible. Wrapped in his arms and wings, she felt safe and protected. Everything else seemed to disappear until it was just the two of them in their small cocoon.

“Can you turn over?”

Her eyes opened at his question, but she didn't move. To face him would mean being only inches away from him. She didn't trust herself to be that close to him. To his lips.

“Why?”

“Just turn over, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

It was the vulnerability in his voice—the barely audible ‘please’—that had her giving in. She had never heard him say it before, not like that.

But as she complied, her face was even closer to his than she'd anticipated. Their noses were almost touching, and she made a point not to let her gaze drop to his lips.

Azriel didn't say anything. They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments or maybe an hour—Y/N didn't know. The one thing she knew was that her heart was beating faster in her chest, and it only got worse when he brushed her cheek, his touch gentle and soft. She smiled, and the movement caused his gaze to dip to her mouth. She waited for him to look up again, but he didn't.

Her smile turned into a little smirk. “Are you just going to stare at my lips all night, or do you plan to actually do something about it?”

Azriel looked at her again, and though he tried to look annoyed, she could see a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Why do you always have to make such quick-witted comments?”

“Shut up and kiss me,” she replied before she even knew what she was saying. She didn't regret it though, because he did it.

And the world shrank till there was just Azriel.

His lips were soft against hers, warm and inviting. His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her closer. She melted against him, opening up for his tongue to slip inside, tasting her slowly, almost reverently. Her heart was beating so fast it might have jumped out of her chest.

She'd wanted this to happen for the longest time, and now that it was real, the leash she'd kept on herself vanished. Every feeling, every emotion she'd stifled for so long, now rushed to the surface like a tidal wave.

What had started as a tender kiss soon turned into something passionate and greedy. She whimpered softly against his lips, and her hands began to make their way down to the hem of his shirt.

“Y/N.” Azriel's whisper stopped her as she looked into his eyes. She could see her own need reflected there. “Are you sure about this?”

“I don't look sure enough to you?” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe next time I should just send you a note and—”

Azriel silenced her with another kiss. “You and your sarcastic answers,” he murmured with a smile.

Y/N giggled and cupped his cheek, brushing her thumb against his lips. “I mean it, Az,” she said, her tone softer now. “I'm sure about it.”

“Good.” He pulled her flush against him as his hands roamed down her back. “Because if I start, I don't think I could stop.”

“Good,” she repeated before she kissed him again.

Y/N tugged on his shirt, and they parted long enough for her to take it off, though it took a bit of struggle to undo the clasps on his back and free his wings. She'd seen him shirtless before, mostly when he was training—he was a real feast for the eye—but now she got to touch him, to run her hands across his torso and feel him shudder. His mouth descended on her neck in response, leaving a trail of wet kisses while his hands gripped her backside.

“You were right, princess,” he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. “Your ass is definitely not little.”

She chuckled as he kneaded it. “Told you.”

Azriel hummed, planting one last kiss on her neck before he shifted position and Y/N found herself pressed down on the mattress, the shadowsinger now on top of her. As she pulled him closer for their lips to meet yet again, his hands caressed her legs, trailing up her thighs and slipping under her nightgown.

She held her breath as he brushed past her panties, lingering just long enough to make her shiver. He then moved up her body, causing the fabric to rise and reveal her soft flesh.

Y/N broke the kiss, a small sigh leaving her lips when Azriel’s hands reached her breasts. He smiled at the sound, and as their eyes met, his gaze was so full of desire that her core clenched.

She wanted him. She needed him.

Before she could reach between them to push down his pants, Azriel gently stopped her by grabbing her wrists, sensing what her intention was. “Not yet,” he murmured.

She frowned. A slight tug was all it took for him to release her hands, though she didn't try to undress him again. “Why not?”

And there it was again, that smirk. But now, with him on top of her, both of them half naked, she didn't simply want to kiss it. No, she wanted do all the things she'd never let herself consider.

“Because I want to see you first, princess.”

Azriel was already pushing her nightgown up, but as usual, she couldn't keep her mouth shut. “So it's official? You're calling me princess now? You've never done that before.”

He looked down at her with so much desire that it seemed to set her body on fire. “I've never been about to fuck you before,” he answered, his voice low and sultry.

Her thighs clenched together, but before she could come up with a response, Azriel removed her nightgown. Her skin was already so heated she barely felt the bite of the cool air, and it was completely forgotten when he ran his hands all over her body, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“You're so beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned down to take one of her nipples in his warm mouth, a soft moan escaping her as she shivered.

Her fingers tangled in his hair to keep him close, and she arched against him when his tongue flicked out to tease her.

“And you're so responsive,” he murmured. Hooking a scarred finger into the waistband of her panties, he pulled them down her legs. The scent of her arousal wafted through the room as Azriel nudged her legs open and settled in between them.

Y/N was about to tell him to hurry, her need to feel him against and inside her now almost overwhelming. But she couldn’t form the words, not as Azriel pushed his hips against hers and she felt the evidence of his own arousal pressing hard against her wet core.

His hands caressed her sides, her ass, her thighs, and yet he never touched her where she needed it most.

“Azriel…” she complained, eyes locked on him. She moved her hips to grind against his erection, seeking some sort of friction, and she was rewarded by his sharp inhale. But it still wasn't enough.

“Be patient, Y/N.” His mouth descended on her neck again, biting the soft spot where it met her shoulder. “I want to taste you first. I want to worship every inch of you.”

Even though she closed her eyes at his little nips, she shook her head. “Azriel, I appreciate it. I really do. But you have no idea how long I've waited for this.” Her breath hitched when his tongue swirled around her nipple again. “We can leave the worshipping for later. I need you now.”

“You need me, uh?” He kissed her other breast, and she bucked her hips against him once more. “And you've waited a long time for this?”

Y/N looked at him again, her fingers still clutching his hair. She nodded and realized her mistake too late—a new mischievous gleam entered Azriel's hazel eyes.

His lips trailed down her stomach and toward her belly button. Each kiss sent a shiver right to her core. “Then you can wait a little longer.”

She groaned, her patience now at its limit. “Azriel, you—”

A gasp cut her off as he licked a stripe up her dripping folds. She couldn't tell who moaned first when Azriel tasted her once more, his tongue flicking over her clit.

Her fingers tightened in his black curls and her head fell back on the pillow. Azriel's lips closed around her clit and she clamped a hand on her mouth to keep quiet as he gently sucked on it.

His shadows began to slither up her body, their touch cool against her heated skin. Her breathing quickened and she had to hold back a moan when his tongue was replaced by a finger slowly sliding inside her folds.

But it didn't move. Azriel looked up at her and she wished she could somehow capture the picture: his head between her legs, those beautiful hazel eyes focused on her with an almost predatory intent.

“Don't go all quiet on me now, princess,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to hear all your pretty noises.”

A tendril of shadow brushed against her hand, and she removed it from her mouth. “Az, the other rooms—”

He curled his finger to hit that soft, spongy spot inside her that had her see stars, and she couldn't stop the moan that left her lips.

“I don't care if someone hears you.” His voice was a low, almost commanding growl. “Let them hear you. Let them know you're with me.”

She was about to answer, to tell him she wasn't sure she should, but Azriel added a second finger, and she lost all control, another small cry of pleasure slipping out.

Azriel seemed satisfied because his smirk reappeared. “If I had known this is all it took to put a stop on the witty comments, I would have done it a long time ago.”

Y/N wanted to make one of those very witty comments to prove him wrong, to show him she hadn't become helpless just because of how good he made her feel, but his tongue circled her clit again and Mother above, she was helpless.

“Do you want to come, princess?”

Unable to form even a coherent thought, all she could do was nod, her body on the brink of release as his fingers curled once more, drawing a moan from deep in her throat.

“Use your words, Y/N.”

“Yes… yes, please,” she panted.

But instead of keeping going, of driving her over that sweet, craved edge, Azriel placed a kiss to her inner thigh and slowly removed his fingers from her folds. He even moved away from her, standing up at the foot of the bed.

She groaned, pushing herself up on her elbows to glower at him. “Azriel, you get back here right now.”

He only grinned. “Ah, there she is.”

“If you're doing this just because you missed my comments, you should know that I—”

The words died on her tongue as soon as his hands swiftly undid the buttons of his pants. Her eyes followed his every movement as he pushed them down his legs, watching his muscles shift and his wings unfold ever so slightly to keep him balanced.

He wasn't wearing any underwear.

The realization caused her brain to stop working, and the sight of his naked body took her breath away. Maybe the rumors about Illyrian wingspans were true after all.

Her mouth dry, she swallowed before finally speaking again. “Azriel,” she repeated, her voice quivering with barely restrained desire. “Get back here right now.”

For once, he obliged without questioning, his grin wide.

Climbing onto the bed, he crawled up her body until his cock pressed against her entrance, her need for him now through the roof.

Their eyes met, and slowly—too slowly—Azriel pushed in, stretching her inch by delicious inch, both of them releasing a moan when he bottomed out, his hips flush against her.

“Fuck,” he groaned, the sound shooting straight down to her core. “Fuck, Y/N... you feel incredible.”

She had no words to describe how he felt inside her. ‘Incredible’ was an understatement, but her mind was too foggy to think of something else. The only thing she was sure of was that she needed him to move.

“Azriel,” she breathed as she wrapped her legs around him. He shuddered when she accidentally brushed his wings with her toes. “Please, move. Now.”

With his elbows on either side of her head, he leaned down to kiss her, pulling out almost all the way. “I love hearing you beg for it,” he whispered against her lips, and rocked back into her with a quick roll of his hips before she could even think of a response.

He didn’t even try to go slow, instead immediately setting a relentless pace that left her panting, but she didn’t mind. Every choked sound and breathless moan were swallowed by his kiss, their tongues swirling together. Her hands found their way into his hair, around his neck, down his back, and her nails scraped along his warm and slightly sweaty skin while he thrust into her, her hips rising to meet his.

Azriel’s own groans and whimpers were music to the ears, each of them bringing her closer to release. As if he knew her body well enough already, he seemed to sense it too, because his lips left hers to trail down her neck.

“That’s it, princess,” he praised. His clipped voice let her know he was probably trying to hold back his own impending orgasm. “Come for me.”

His shadows flew in the little space between their bodies to tease her clit, drawing a guttural groan from her. It was like nothing she’d ever felt before—cool against her hot skin, a barely-there touch that yet was enough to make her shudder and whine. But it was the uniqueness of it all that sent her toppling over the edge.

A loud cry broke from her as her vision blurred and her body tensed, her nails slightly digging into Azriel’s back while he slowed his thrusts to draw out her pleasure. But he soon resumed his punishing pace, his hips slamming into hers almost frantically, the sound of skin on skin filling the small room as he chased his own release.

She choked out his name right as he stilled, hot spurts of cum filling her, his last few moans muffled when she pulled him in for another desperate kiss.

They were both panting by the time they broke apart, but neither of them tried to move. Azriel still lay buried deep inside her, and simply rested his forehead against hers, a smile on his lips that mirrored her own.

Despite his heavy breaths, his brows raised as he asked playfully, “So was the wait worth it?”

“It was,” she answered with a chuckle. Her hands came up to cup his face, her thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You certainly know what you’re doing, shadowsinger.”

Wrong words.

“Is that so?” His grin only widened, and he gave another roll of his hips that dragged a groan from the back of her throat.

She slapped him on the shoulder, but her smile matched his. “Smug ass.”

Azriel's soft laugh tickled her cheek as he kissed it. Slowly, he pulled out of her, leaving her with a feeling of emptiness.

Not ready to let him go just yet, she curled up in his arms as soon as he lay down next to her. Azriel immediately embraced her, holding her close to his chest, their legs tangled.

A comfortable silence settled over them as they bathed in the afterglow of sex, interrupted only by their soft breathing and the blizzard still raging outside.

As the minutes passed, Y/N struggled to keep her eyes open, but she had always wanted to trace the swirling lines of Azriel's tattoos, and now she had her chance. Her fingers danced along the Illyrian design, following the pattern from his neck to his arm, then lingering a bit longer on his sculpted pecs and feeling the muscle beneath her fingertips. His heart was beating fast, pounding in his chest.

“Can you promise me something?”

She glanced up at him, his eyes already fixed on her. The corner of her lips twitched upwards. “Depends on what it is.”

Azriel was silent for a long moment before he spoke again with a new seriousness in his tone. “Promise me that we’ll give this a chance. That we’ll give… us a chance.”

Her fingers halted their roaming, her heart skipped a bit, and a part of her whispered that she had heard that wrong, that she had misunderstood. No way he was actually asking her what she thought he was asking her, despite just having had sex.

She had to swallow the lump in her throat to be able to murmur, “Do you mean that?”

Azriel's eyes softened, like he knew she was even more vulnerable now than while they were fucking, and that whether her heart broke or not depended entirely on his answer.

“I’ve waited for this for a long time too, Y/N,” he said gently, cupping her cheeks to look right into her eyes. “I don’t want just this one night with you. I want all the nights you’ll give me.”

Y/N smiled then, so bright it could have lit up the whole room. She wanted to kiss him senseless, to hold him tight and never let go. And nothing was stopping her anymore, she realized, so she did just that.

She showered his face with tiny kisses. Every beautiful inch, from his nose to his jawline, from his eyebrow to his chin. Azriel's arms wrapped around her middle to pull her closer, and she relented her assault only when he chuckled.

Their eyes met again, and she knew there was no turning back now. But she would never turn back now.

“I’ll give you all the nights in the world, Az,” she finally said once the burst of joy subsided. “And the days, too. I'll give you anything you want.”

His smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. It was wider than ever before and the urge to touch his small dimples rushed through her—dimples she'd never known he had, but that she'd do anything to see again.

When he kissed her, it was slow yet passionate, gentle yet desperate, their breaths mingling, their hands caressing cheeks and running through hair.

“You're the only thing I want,” Azriel murmured once their lips parted. “Every night and every day. I want only you.”

Those were probably the most beautiful words she'd ever heard. Not even in her dreams did she imagine he would say them. Dwelling on what it would be like to share moments of passion was one thing, but this…

She moved to straddle him, mindful of his wings splayed out beneath him. She wanted to run her fingers down their length, and hopefully, sooner rather than later, she might get to do just that.

“Then I hope you're not too tired, shadowsinger.” She leaned down to trail kisses along his tattoo, but her eyes never left his. “Because you can't say something like that without expecting me to fuck you again.”

His hands tightened their grip on her thighs, her words enough to ignite the fire in him once more. “I'm yours, princess. We have all night.”

“All the nights,” she corrected him with a grin, already grinding on him. “And all the days.”

Maybe they would be facing the rebels with sore bodies, after all.

Tags: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover

(If I accidentally added someone who wanted to be tagged only in part 3 of A Helping Hand and not the general tag list, please let me know and I'll fix it)

[lovebugism]

I have an idea for and eddie x reader fic where f!reader really wants to get into dnd but had no idea where to start, and is afraid of getting further teased by family and bullies at school. Tsym, your writing is the best! 🖤🖤

i can't stop writing part twos to stuff apparently, so please enjoy the unofficial second part of this fic! — the new girl learns about the hellfire rumors (shy!r, hurt/comfort, cw for brief mentions of bullying | 1.5k)

A familiar face waits for you outside Mr. Kaminsky’s chemistry lab. Eddie Munson, anticipating your arrival around the corner, grins with all his teeth when his unexpected presence takes you by surprise. 

You stumble back on unsure feet — a little like you had when you first met (though you don’t fall on your ass this time, thankfully) — then smile before you mean to.

“I’ve been going here for two weeks, you know?” you tell the boy towering over you, peering at him beneath your lashes. “I think I know my way around by now.”

Eddie bounces a shoulder in a lazy shrug. “Well, better to be safe, don’t ya think?” 

He flashes you a crooked smirk and tosses a leather-clad arm over your shoulder. You notice quickly that he’s got nothing in his ringed hands, not even a backpack, while you carry a mountain of textbooks in your aching arms. 

With Eddie’s help, you weave through the bustling hall of Hawkins High, which would otherwise trample you completely. The crowd seems to part for him instinctively — whether it’s intentional or not, you can’t tell. You don’t think Eddie notices it, either. He guides you to the west end of the school like doing so is muscle memory. You’re starting to think he knows your schedule better than his own.

“A lot of people would pay good money to have me as their personal escort, you know?” he jokes and tilts his wild head to his shoulder. A few untamed curls tickle the apples of your cheek in the process. He scrunches his nose down at you. “So you should be thanking me, really.”

Your face warms for a reason you can’t name. From the close proximity, maybe, or from the weight of your gratitude. Equal parts of both, perhaps. “Thank you,” you murmur shyly.

Eddie falters, sneakers scuffing against the tile. He’s still getting used to how kind you are; and how softly you look at him. “I was— I was being sarcastic. Don’t actually thank me,” he stammers, cheeks flaring pink. “Jeez. You’re too sweet for your own good, you know that?”

You giggle when he sweeps you around the corner. The sound is pretty enough to make him smile, though it ebbs much quicker than he’d like. It takes Eddie a moment too long to realize why, ‘cause he’s too busy ogling at how pretty you are. Which makes the sight before him borderline gagworthy.

“Well,” an infuriatingly familiar voice huffs. “Look what the cat dragged in.”

Jason Carver, clad in his bright green letterman, stands at the center of a bunch of guys, also wearing bright green lettermans. 

You recognize a couple of their faces. Andy is the one with the sandy curls who spends all of biology cracking sex jokes. Patrick is the tall one with the Bobby Brown haircut who helped you with your locker once when the combination wouldn’t budge. 

The rest are nameless and unfamiliar. Save for the blonde boy in the middle of them, with the hundred-dollar haircut and the bright white smile. Everything you’ve learned about him has been entirely against your will.

Eddie blinks slowly at the crowd of muscled teens, not nearly as startled by the sight of them as you are. His dark eyes flit to the side, where they crowd at the entrance of the Hellfire room, and then back to Jason. “Well, are you gonna let us through, or do we need a password?” he deadpans.

Jason’s thin lips quirk at the edges. “Where are you guys off to?” 

“You’re a smart guy, Carver. I’m sure you can figure it out.”

The boy’s stone blue eyes dart between the two of you for a moment, before settling finally on you. “He’s not trying to recruit you into his cult, is he?” Jason squints.

Eddie tenses beside you. His warm arm slips from your shoulders and leaves you fighting back a shiver. An agonizing second passes before you get the courage to speak. “C-Cult?” you echo, noticeably unsure.

“Yeah,” Jason nods with wide eyes and a voice that borders on sympathetic. “They’re Satanists— him and all his Hellfire buddies. The five of ‘em? They’re bad news, sweetheart.”

Eddie’s chest tightens. Not because of Jason’s stupid melodramatics (he’s used to those now) but because he’s calling you sweetheart. And you’re not his fucking sweetheart. Eddie knows you’re not his either, exactly, but the principle still stands anyway. 

“Oh! You can count!” Eddie muses with an emotionless laugh. “I bet you know your ABC’s too!”

Jason’s face cracks only slightly. His sharp jaw clenches enough to make his temples shift. His suffocating gaze never wavers from yours. 

“I’m just trying to look out for you. That’s all,” he murmurs like he’s telling a secret, but obviously wanting Eddie to hear all of it. “Don’t get wrapped up in Munson’s shit, alright? He’s dangerous. He’ll swallow someone as sweet as you whole before you can blink.”

When Jason passes you, he caresses your elbow with a touch you assume is meant to be comforting. You tense like he’s burned you instead. He walks on by and takes his friends and too-strong cologne with him.

Eddie grits his teeth and stares daggers down the emptying hallway. He doesn’t want to cause a scene like he typically would — for your sake — but staying silent leaves him with no real place to put his anger. His rage simmers like a fire behind his ribcage, and he keeps it all to himself. Just like Jason wanted.

“Fucking douchebag,” Eddie grumbles as he storms into the Hellfire room. You follow cautiously behind him, watching silently while he paces around the empty classroom. The boy talks wildly with his hands. “I can’t stand him— He’s like a fucking goblin with an intelligence score of zero—”

“What… What was he talking about?” you wonder in a mousy voice, clammy hands wringing. “Back there? About the… the cult?”

“Nothing,” Eddie groans. He huffs and tilts his head back, revealing the tendons of his milky white neck. “He just thinks a couple of nerds playing D&D are worshipping satan, which is just… I mean, he throws balls into hoops in his spare time, but you don’t see me calling him a goddamn neanderthal, do you?”

He turns to face you, wide-eyed, like he’s expecting an answer. Then he sighs, bringing his chin to his chest and hiding behind his hair. “Nevermind. I actually do call him that, so… I guess it’s fair…”

“Does he always bother you like that?” you question, chest sparking with an emotion stronger than you used to. Strangely protective and very foreignly angry.

“Me? God, no— He’s not that big of an idiot,” Eddie scoffs, then turns suddenly serious. His dark eyes narrow across the room at you. “Has he been bothering you?”

You shift your weight under his smothering gaze. “No… Not like that, anyway. I’m usually with you, so… He mostly leaves me alone.”

Eddie sighs. His chest deflates with the heavy breath. He grows quickly shy as he closes the distance between you, arms crossed over his chest like a shield. He averts his gaze and swallows hard. “I’m— I’m sorry, by the way.”

Your brows pinch. “For what?”

He shrugs sheepishly, scratching at the back of his neck. “I don’t know. I just… I feel like I should’ve done more—”

“You did enough.”

“—I should’ve stuck up for you.”

“It’s not your job to stop assholes from being assholes, Ed.”

He doesn’t want to smile, but you make it distressingly hard not to. Especially when you’re grinning up at him like you are now. Especially when such vulgar words are spilling from such a pristine mouth.

“Well, I did kinda promise to keep you safe.”

“You have been, Eds,” you tell him with a pretty laugh, smiling so hard you’re squinting. “There’s no one else I’d rather be around, so… That’s gotta count for something, right?”

“That’s just because you’re crazier than I am, sweetheart.”

Your face flares, warmed by the term of endearment — far more when it’s spilling from his mouth than Jason’s. “Well, Hellfire’s for crazy people, I’ve heard. So I guess I’ll fit right in.”

Eddie’s button eyes go wide. His chin falls to his chest as he flashes you a solemn look. “You… You still wanna join?” he wonders, half shocked.

You take his surprise for distaste and cower all over again. “I mean… If you— If you’ll have me, I guess—”

“Of course!” the boy assures, far quicker and far louder than he intended. His voice rings through the empty classroom and he clears his throat, trying to play it cool. “I just thought that after Jason, you’d—”

“Screw Jason,” you blurt, foreignly harsh in a way that makes his heart skip. “I don’t care what he thinks. I like spending time with you.”

A smirk flickers at the very corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Really?”

“Really,” you echo. When you feel yourself start to drown in his chocolate eyes, you turn to the wooden figurines sitting on top of the table beside you. “You’ll have to teach me how to play, though. I have exactly zero clue where to start.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie shrugs, taking a daring step closer. He smirks and fights the urge to hold you — to caress your arm like Jason had, and to erase any remnants of his unwanted touch. His ringed hands tremble with yearning. He balls them into fists at his side. 

He smiles through the aching. “Just means we get to spend more time together, right?”

[rafecameroninterlude]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐜𝐨

pairing: dark!rafe x fem!kook!reader

summary: ❝you’re so art deco, out on the floor. shining like gun metal, cold and unsure.❞ — your attempt to cut things off with rafe only fuels him to come back with a vengeance.

warnings: friends w benefits, rafe is terrible, jealousy, manipulation, arguing at a party, topper kisses you, fighting, rafe ‘breaking’ in your house

word count: 2.6k

a/n: i’m trying to focus on writing less smut but my next few works will be nsfw for sureeee, i hope you enjoy <3 series masterlist

“i have to get going.” you were still going through the aftershocks of your orgasm when rafe started pulling his clothes back on. even though this wasn’t anything new, it didn’t make you feel any better. you watched him, sitting up with the sheets covering your chest. “see you tonight?” he was looping his belt when he sighed. “we’ll see.” he shrugged, not sparing you another glance before leaving you altogether.

your friends would be so disappointed in you right now if you told them that you allowed yourself to go through this again. “you’re so stupid.” you muttered to yourself, quickly making your way to a shower, wanting nothing more than to wash the feeling of him off. you knew rafe would never take you serious, but you liked him so much that if having a no strings attached arrangement was the only way you could have him, you were willing to do just that. you wouldn’t let yourself cry over him, but you did go through the motions each time.

you’d swear you would tell him you didn’t want to do this anymore, but the second he was in your ear, whispering to you all the ways he wanted to take you, you never failed to bend at his will, quite literally. tomorrow would be the first day of spring break, so in your best friend’s fashion, it was only right to throw a complete rager with open invitation. you spent the remainder of your evening getting ready before chloe texted you that she was outside.

“you look insane?! are you serious?” chloe’s jaw hung open as you walked to her car. “this isn’t the y/n i know. what did you do with her?” you laughed, giving your friend a spin. you were wearing a lacey black see through dress, and a matching black set underneath. “good girl is staying in tonight.” you posed as chloe snapped a picture of you. “you look so hot, i love it.” she ushered you into the passenger seat, both of you riding back to her place. “fuck, it’s this packed already?” you got off, the heel of your boots clicking against the cement of her driveway. “just wait till you see inside.” she warned.

sure enough, you were greeted with the sight of at least a hundred people in the living room alone. chloe took your arm with hers, weaving through the crowd of people. you met with some more friends, everyone ogling your outfit since it was a drastic change from what you’d usually wear. “don’t let rafe see you in this.” at the mention of his name, you felt your stomach drop as you looked around towards the kitchen. “has anyone seen him? he’s the last person i want to run into right now.” you accepted the drink one of your friends came back with.

“oh, you don’t have to worry about that, he’s been pretty occupied out on the balcony.” hannah raised her eyebrows, the girls looking at you for your reaction. “occupied?” you took a sip from the red solo cup in your hand. even though you didn’t want to see him, you didn’t want him with anyone else either. “topper and kelce are betting a whole bunch of money on a card game, apparently rafe is too.. just with a random sitting on his lap while he does it.” you licked your lips, nodding your head slowly as chloe watched you carefully.

“that’s cute.” without wasting another second, you started walking upstairs, your friends trailing behind you. chloe’s balcony was connected to the master bedroom, the double doors wide open for anyone to come in and out of. your eyes fell on rafe, the blonde draped across his lap was no one you’ve ever seen before. she was most defintely a touron. you walked outside, the guys so into their game that no one looked up from their cards. “hey.” you smiled sweetly at the girl across from you as you did the last thing you thought you’d do tonight, and sat on topper’s lap.

“well you look really good.” you hit his shoulder playfully, meeting rafe’s heated gaze when he did a double take. “aw, thank you ‘top. you wouldn’t mind if i sat here, would you?” you trailed your fingertips across his chest, a teasing smile gracing your lips as you watched how nervous you made him. “o-of course not, maybe you could be my lucky charm.” he showed you his cards, the giant stack of cash in the middle of the table catching your eye. “who’s winning right now?” even though you asked topper directly, rafe answered. “i am.” your head shot in his direction, his hand running up and down the girls thigh. okay..

“i’m sorry, i’ve never seen you around here, like ever,” you laughed, “do you have a name?” the girl looked embarrassed as you gave her a once over, her body visibly tensing the longer you stared at her. “i’m just going to go get another drink.” she got up, leaving rafe by himself as he shot daggers at you. diverting your gaze back to topper’s cards, you whispered in his ear to put down the ace. “that’s the winning card.” you reassured him, moving your hips slightly as you put the card down yourself, rafe following suit. “whoever has the highest gets the green, baby,” kelce leaned forward as you and rafe flipped your cards over. “fuck yeah!” topper shot up from the couch, holding you against him as you cheered.

“five thousand dollars, all yours ‘top.” kelce’s smile dropped as he glanced over at rafe. “let’s go!” before you could pull away, completing your mission to piss rafe off, topper grabbed a handful of your ass before kissing you roughly. “oh, fuck no,” rafe grabbed topper by his shirt, pushing you out of the way as he landed a punch square in his mouth. you sat there dumbfounded as kelce rushed to break them apart. “i don’t give a fuck about a few thousand dollars, keep your hands to yourself or i’ll fucking kill you!” before you could get up, rafe dragged you away by your arm. “leave her alone!” chloe shoved rafe, who didn’t even budge before taking you outside to the front.

“what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he backed you up against one of the cars, his arms caging you in. “you trying to fuck my friends now? that’s what you want, huh?” you turned your head away from where he was grabbing your chin. “don’t touch me.” you swatted his hand away. “sitting on topper’s lap? what’s your fucking problem?” his knees dug into your thighs, your last band of resistance snapping. “you’re my fucking problem!” you pushed his chest, causing him to stumble back a few steps.

“you tell me that you don’t want a relationship, but then freak out like this? meanwhile you’re still going around doing whoever you want? i hate this rafe! you don’t even look at me afterwards, how do you think that makes me feel?” he stared at you, his jaw ticking as you kept the tears from falling down your face. “this isn’t about you not being able to commit to someone, this is about you keeping me to yourself and having me around only when it benefits you. i’m done.” you didn’t allow him to respond, chloe jogging up to you just in time.

“you okay?” she pushed your hair out of your face. “can you just take me home please?” your best friend didn’t hesitate, walking you down the driveway before yelling; “get the fuck off of my property, asshole!” making you laugh softly. “fuck him. don’t let him have access to you anymore until he proves to you that he can take you serious. you deserve a million times better than that.” once the car door shut, you let the water works loose. after reassuring chloe that you’ll be okay by yourself, she finally let you off the car, not driving off until she watched you go inside.

your phone started chiming with new messages, all of them from rafe.

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: can we please talk about this?

[10:47 PM] rafe <3: that touron came onto me first, alright? you could ask topper.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: actually, don’t talk to topper at all.

[10:48 PM] rafe <3: y/n i know i fucked up alright, please call me. or at least let me go over, let me make this up to you, let me make you feel good..

you scoffed at the last message. that’s all you were to him, a good fuck. nothing more, nothing less. you blocked his number, deciding to call it a night. you would have to be joining your parents tomorrow for the country club’s annual luncheon, which you were sure rafe would be at as well. you spent the rest of the night regretting your decision to get rafe riled up, topper kissed you for crying out loud. you made a vow to yourself, swearing you’d never do anything outlandish to get anyone’s attention, especially rafe’s.

-

“you ignoring me now?” you sucked in a breath, not daring to turn around and face the one man you couldn’t handle to see at the moment. “leave me alone, rafe. seriously.” you walked faster, hoping to reach the main dining room before he yanked you back. “blocking my number and my instagram? i didn’t think you had it in you.” you scoffed, looking up at him as he smiled, shaking his head. “didn’t think i had it in me?” you arched a brow, prying his grip off of your arm.

“come on, y/n,” he looked around, placing a hand on your hip, “we both know no contact isn’t going to work. i’ll show up at your house if i have to.” you didn’t doubt his words for one second, but the fact that he felt this comfortable dismissing your feelings was enough for you to realize what you had to do; tear down his ego. “and why wouldn’t it work? because you wouldn’t have anyone to run to when your daddy makes you cry?” rafe visibly recoiled, his hand moving as if touching you burned him.

“what the fuck did you just say?” his eyes narrowing down at you. “you heard me. it seems like you forgot we were best friends before we started having sex,” you laughed bitterly, “what happened? lost respect for me or something?” not being able to be in his presence for one more second, you left and met your parents at their table. for the rest of the luncheon, you could feel rafe’s gaze piercing through your skin. you knew you struck a chord, but it was all true.

“me and your father will be going to the mainland for the next few days for business, will you be joining us?” your mother’s voice snapped you out of your reverie. “chloe’s only here for a week before she goes back to uni so i’m gonna stay.” she nodded. “alright, i’ll have the driver take you home then, and sweetie,” she leaned in close, “you might want to see what that cameron boy wants, he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you since you sat down.” you glanced up, your stomach dropping at the sight of him. “it’s complicated.” you whispered, you and your mother getting up to leave.

the ride back was quick, your parents letting you know they’ll call you when they get off the ferry. you were about to walk inside before you noticed the door cracked open. what the hell? you turned around to see if your parents were still there, but the car was already gone. you tried to brush it off, going in cautiously. it was still early in the day, the sun still shining brightly overhead. you made your way to the security system, your eyebrows knitting in confusion when you saw it had already been reset. “that’s impossible..” you whispered, jumping when you heard a clash come from upstairs.

you stood frozen, debating if you should run out or go check for yourself. the last thing you wanted to do was call the cops and it wasn’t anything to worry about. you cursed to yourself, slowly making your way upstairs. “is someone here?” you called out, opening the room doors and looking them over. obviously you expected no one to answer, but you still felt relieved when you saw that nothing was out of place. that was until you got to your room, where one side of your bed looked like someone had been laying in it.

you ran your hand over the sheets, the soft material still warm. “i told you i was gonna show up to your house if i had to.” your head shot up to your bathroom, rafe leaning against the doorframe. “what are you doing?” your heart was beating in your ears, his gaze making you feel powerless in this situation. “i’ve been a dick to you, i’ll admit that. i’ll apologize for that. i’m sorry, y/n, i really am,” he started moving towards you, “and you know what? you’re right. it is about me wanting to keep you to myself.” rafe a took a seat in front of you. “i want to work on this. i want us to work together, we could really make this a good thing.” you didn’t know you were crying until rafe wiped the tear from your eye.

“you’re lying to me.” you shook your head, pushing his hand away. a flash of hurt passed over rafe’s face. “i wouldn’t lie to you about this. i’m not as cold and unsure as you think i am.” his hands rested on your thighs. “i can’t even put into words how bad i wanted to hurt topper last night when i saw you sitting on him, and when he grabbed you and kissed you? i wouldn’t have stopped punching him if kelce didn’t get in the middle.” you listened, eventually relaxing under his touch. “i will do everything i have to do to prove to you i’m serious about this. about us.” he started moving closer, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“what do you say, baby?” you swallowed, sitting in thought for a moment. this was all you ever wanted from rafe. the sincerity, the reciprocation. “you promise?” your voice was shaky, his eyes softening as he pulled you against his chest. “you have my fucking word.” he whispered against your skin, his hand running up and down your back. you smiled, pressing a kiss to his adam’s apple. slowly, he brought his hands up to your shoulders, his fingers running through your hair before you felt him gripping your neck. “as much as i want to take you slow, i have to punish you for saying what you did at the countryclub.” your eyes fluttered shut as rafe laid you down, his knee wedging itself between your thighs.

“say it again.” his hand was still wrapped around your neck as you looked up at him with tear clad eyes. “rafe..” he smiled, the action that usually has your heart melting, now had a shiver running down your spine. “say it.” rafe said through gritted teeth. you shuddered, ultimately giving in. “i told you, you wouldn’t have anyone to run to if your dad made you cry again,” saying it to him after you resolved things just felt cruel now. “and that was very insensitive of me, i’m sorry.” rafe shushed you. “it’s alright.. i’m gonna make you regret opening your mouth at all.”

[moonstruckme]

Heyy:)💞could I request something in which reader is a virgin and she’s afraid of her first time and like unsure if she feels ‘ready’ for it but also doesn’t want to come of as prude and the character you’re writing for just comforts her and tells her it’s fine🌞Any character you’re writing for would be fine!!:))) have a great dayyy🫶

Hi lovely, thank you for requesting!

cw: smut mdni, oral (fem recieving), virgin reader

Steve Harrington x fem!reader ♡ 958 words

Steve’s hands are strong and warm on your waist, dipping lower. You roll your hips against his, and the sound that emerges from him is half-moan, half-laugh. He kisses you dizzy. 

“Can I take these off?” he asks, tugging at your back pocket.

“Yeah,” you say without thinking. 

You trust Steve. You haven’t been dating long, but you can tell he’s a good guy. He has a tendency to act overconfident and then backtrack immediately, which he says he’s working on. He’s genuine when it counts. Nice to you in all the ways that matter. 

It’s not until your jeans hit the floor, where Steve’s shirt already lies, that you start to think about the implications of losing those bits of clothing. Whether or not you want them. 

Steve grabs big handfuls of your ass, your flesh pudging between his fingers. He flips you over. 

You giggle at the suddenness of it, and he drinks in the sound happily, lips curving over yours. You press kiss after kiss after kiss into his mouth, giddy and lost in him. After a while, he dips his head to move his attentions to your neck. Your breaths become gaspy, head tilting sideways to grant him better access as your eyes flutter closed. 

You don’t even notice his hand moving until his fingers wiggle under the waistband of your panties. 

You go still. Then try to relax again. Try to embrace it. His fingers slide over your folds, already slicked, while his thumb searches for your clit. He finds it, circling tantalizingly. You try to get lost again. It’s not hard. Soon you’re panting, tangling your hand in Steve’s hair as his mouth sponges over your pulse. He slips one thick finger into you, then two. Scissoring. 

You try to make your voice sound casual as can be. 

“What’re you doing?” 

“Opening you up.” The words are mumbled against your skin, matter-of-fact. “M’gonna get you ready, don’t worry.” 

Your breath catches in your throat. 

“Whoa, hey,” Steve laughs. “Relax for me. You okay?” 

You hesitate, and his fingers still inside you, thumb slowing on your clit. 

“Hey.” He sits up, looking down at you. “Are you doing okay?” 

“I’m not sure if—if I want—”

“Oh, oh my god.” He slips his fingers out, wiping his hand on his sheets. His other hand twitches like it wants to touch your face, but he stops it before it gets there, setting it on the bed beside your head. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to assume…anything.” 

“No, you’re good.” You try to laugh it off. “I’m being dumb. We can keep going.” 

You tip your chin upward, kissing him. Steve doesn’t take the cue.

“I don’t want to do anything you don’t want,” he says, sitting up a bit more, putting more distance between you. You lie back on the mattress and fight the urge to cover your face with your hands. “If you don’t feel like it, that’s cool.” 

You rub your lips together. They’re still tingling. “It’s not that I don’t feel like it,” you try to explain. “It’s just that I’m not sure…I don’t know if I’m ready.” You cringe. “It feels stupid to say it.” 

Steve’s eyebrows twitch together. “Ready for…?” 

You give him a deadpan look, and his expression clears. 

“Oh. Whoa, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” 

You shrug. “I didn’t tell you.” 

“Yeah…” He seems a bit shell-shocked. “Why did you say we could keep going? Do you want to?” 

Your eyes fall thoughtlessly to where Steve’s hand rests just below your navel, your underwear a soppy mess behind it. “I don’t know,” you admit. 

Steve nods like he understands, though he still looks confused. “Well, we shouldn’t do anything unless you know for sure.” 

You look at him, guilt like concrete clogging your insides. “Really? You don’t think I should just get it over with?” 

“What?” His face screws up. “No. Honey,” —He’s never called you that before. You melt a little— “you should want to have sex. If you’re not sure, you’re not sure. That’s fine.” You search in his tone for any hint of sarcasm or bitterness but come up empty. His hand drifts over to your hip, running the length of it. “You’re not asking because you think I want to, are you?” 

It’s a silly, hypocritical stab of hurt, but it hurts nonetheless. “You don’t?” 

“No, I do,” Steve says hastily. “Obviously I do. Just, that’s not a good enough reason for you to do it. And I don’t want you to get it over with, that’s for sure.” 

He says the last bit wryly, glancing away from your face like he’s barely restraining an eye-roll, and you laugh. He looks back at you, grinning. Pleasantly surprised. 

“I mean, it wouldn’t really reflect on you if I was getting it over with,” you say, but Steve scoffs. 

“Fuck yeah it would. Sex with me should be magical, babe,” he tells you, kissing your chin firmly. “Sparks flying and butterflies and all that. The whole fireworks show.” 

“Oh, you’re selling it now.” 

“Not,” he does roll his eyes this time, kissing the corner of your mouth, “my intent. You tell me when you feel ready, and then I’ll start advertising, but until then don’t worry about it.” He catches your eye, and his are searching even as he raises his eyebrows playfully. “I can still give you the fireworks show other ways, if you want me to.” 

You blink. “Really?” 

Steve blinks harder. “Yeah! Jesus, your expectations of me are so low. Give me a little credit.” He presses kisses to your mouth, your chin, trailing down your throat, his blessed hand making its way back towards your heat. “Just sit tight, let me get you warmed up again.”

[strawberrysainz]

romanticism. charles leclerc

“ being charles leclerc’s assistant was a piece of work. you loved him though. ”

charles leclerc x reader

a warning — crude language, mentions of food, alcohol consumption, semi-mature scenes.

word count: 2.8k

“Do you want a biscuit?” He pointed to the box of red, racing-themed biscuits, mouth already full with one. “Please don’t tell anyone.” He added as an afterthought, and you snorted to yourself, setting down a notebook to take a gingerbread man decorated as him.

The instagram handle for the baker was loud and proud on the box, and you took a photo of the little Charles, making a note to post it later.

Qualifying hadn’t gone very well for Charles, hence the angry biscuit-eating. He’d ended up third, but an incident in the famous tunnel of the Principality had cost him three more places. His white suit was blinding in the tiny room, and his frustrated little huffs as he flung things this way and that made you slightly on edge.

You had been scrambling to catch up with him this season; you had been dealing with a family crisis until Miami, leaving Charles with some guy as his assistant for the past races. You had thought he was decent at first, but Charles was a precise guy; if he was relying on you to keep it together at work for him, then you’d better fucking do it the way he wanted. Even you didn’t mess with Charles on a race weekend. He was so nervous or upset or he was the happiest guy in the world - it didn’t matter, you just had to be consistent, comforting and take things as they went.

You swore he could’ve kissed you when you arrived on Monday.

But here you were on Saturday, still uneasy; Monaco had always freaked you out - you didn’t believe in the curse because Charles scorned it, but a part of you had anticipated that a stroke of bad luck would always have its way here. It was nine in the evening, and the crowds were still insane. You were prepared to walk back to your apartment at this point, even if it would take you about an hour with the blocked off roads. You handed Charles his clean clothes to change into after his shower, and you were about to go home for the night -

“Do you want to have dinner with me?”

You tilted your head. You knew Charles’ new girlfriend had arrived this morning, surely he’d do something with her?

He must’ve seen the look on your face, and his unsureness- the way he couldn’t believe what he were saying- made you embarrassed.

“No, it’s alright. Get a good night’s sleep. I’ll struggle to get back to mine anyway.” You said abruptly. “Must I make you an Instagram post while you’re in the shower?”

He nodded, unlocking his phone. You immediately went into Google Drive to get some pictures as he left, when a message from Alexandra came in.

You blanched; usually, bar your forgetfulness, you put the phone on the do not disturb function so that you didn’t see what he was getting sent- but the full stops and seriousness made you guiltily keep a finger on the notification.

You’re being ridiculous. I can’t give up my job to come cheer you on. I know it’s Monaco but I thought I made it clear. I can’t make it after all, C. My job is equally as important as yours. You’ll be fine.

You inhaled sharply; she was pissed. You thought she was reasonable, but you knew how much it meant to him to have people here; he struggled in Monaco, and even if he didn’t admit it he was so anxious to please.

I’m sure she’ll have a little fuckin hug and a kiss for you. I’m not a cheerleader, that’s her job, Charles. Watch her under the podium instead. Or maybe not after all- I saw you got P6

Talk tomorrow

Your eyes widened. Was she talking about you?

You were being too nosy. You selected the pictures and put them together, locking his phone on the caption section so he’d write what he’d like. As you opened the door to leave, he was there, his eyes meeting yours; and he must’ve known that you knew something because he lowered his gaze.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You said quietly, patting his arm. “Sleep well.”

There was a desperation in his tone when he asked you again to supper.

Well, how the fuck could you say no? He was clearly desperate.

“I’ll invite Joris and Lorenzo, and Arthur.” He said quickly, and you sighed; “The usual?” It was a little tapas restaurant 15 minutes away.

You closed the door then, confused, and walked away, opening your phone to call Joris for a lift.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You were in the front seat surrounded by the familiar smell of Joris’ car; you two had become good friends- always together, waiting, working because of Charles.

You were busy typing about the gingerbread man when Joris asked you about the lack of Alex (Charles had probably been talking about her first Grand Prix together with him).

You paused. “They seem to be having some sort of rift. Not sure. Ask him.” You said shortly; you tried to stay out of his love life as much as you could. You’d liked his previous girlfriend to an extent, but the final events leading up to their breakup made it awkward for you to say goodbye. You tried desperately to be professional but at that point you were a really close friend of Charles’.

Joris nodded. You two did enjoy a paddock gossip now and again, but when it involved Charles alone you really weren’t into it.

You ended up taking longer to get to the restaurant because you made him stop at your house - you weren’t going to turn up in Ferrari gear - and showered, put new clothes on and sprinted back to his car in the drizzle.

Walking through the restaurant to your table in the corner, Joris was busy chattering on about the home GP content he was busy with; you were fiddling with your hair, your bracelets, your clothes, irritated to be there. Trying to be normal around Charles in non-work situations like he didn’t fucking employ you always stressed you out.

Not to mention he was being so awkward as of late.

You slid into the bench next to Lorenzo, giving him a warm pat on the arm as Joris sat on your other side. Charles was smiling at the sight of you - you greeted Arthur, and then him, and you were presented with some iced tea (no one drank next to Charles on a Saturday before the race).

You were lost in the conversation between Arthur and Charles (Arthur hadn’t done so well in F2 today either) when Lorenzo caught your attention.

“How are you?” You adored the way he spoke French; it was low and comfortable, in the kind of way that reminded you of a warm hug.

“Alright.” You said, giggling, and he nodded seriously. He knew about your stress - he’d never raced as intensely as his two brothers - and you’d always found him a comfort.

He was busy telling you about something - a trip with his girlfriend - when you heard the distress in Charles’ tone and turned to him. He was staring at the paella in front of him.

Joris was silent; Arthur just looked lost.

“What’s wrong?” You said quietly, and you noticed a few stubborn tears in his eyes that he was dying not to let fall.

“I’m just not feeling good about the race.” His tone was terribly melancholic, and you felt a bit frozen. “I- Cha-“

Lorenzo was stiff; you blinked.

Charles sat up straight. “It’s okay. Sorry.” His tone indicated no more talking about it, and Joris launched into a conversation about something, Arthur hurriedly joining in. You made eye contact with him sternly; we were talking about this later.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

Supper had come and gone, the bill had been paid, and you found yourself alone in Charles’ car at 10:53 pm on the way back to your apartment.

“Please come in.” You had said to him, after he refused to go home immediately to sleep; promising a cup of tea before he got home.

You had dropped your keys by the front door and entered, your cat greeting the two of you. “What’s wrong?” You said, starting the kettle with a tenderness in your tone you could never replicate with anyone else.

Charles was just sighing, complaining, choking with emotion as he spoke of his fears - dear God, he was struggling - you poured milk and sugar, biting a lip, and eventually it became too much that you brought him in for a tight hug in the light of your kitchen, a song playing in the corner.

You pulled away, and to your surprise he was looking into your eyes softly, a gentleness in his expression that freaked you out. You felt your body soften as his hand met your hip, and you knew, despite yourself, you could never refuse him.

“Cha…” you murmured, gaze on his lips. Holy shit, this was so wrong.

He let out a little sigh that had you going insane, and you turned around to fetch the tea, overwhelmed; this was the only way you could prevent whatever what was happening, not happen.

He murmured your name again, and you turned around slowly, guiltily watching his beautiful face, certain feelings you’d suffocated return just like that.

His hand met your arm, gentle pressure prompting you to put the tea down. You gasped quietly as his hand on your hip brought you together, eyes wide and wanting.

He met your lips with his, and it was like a wildfire that burned, bright and haunting, kissing you everywhere, his touch burning, thigh in between your legs, arms and hands touching you everywhere, you were gasping and he was moaning, the desire in the air thick, scary, and his facial hair tickled you in a delicious way that made you shiver, eyes lidded, dark, and suddenly he was moving to take his shirt off and you stepped back, terrified, lonely.

“Charles, you have a girlfriend.” You said lowly, hair messy. You noticed your lipstick all over his lips and face.

He looked scared of himself. “Fuck. I have to go. I need to sleep.”

“And talk to Alex.” You said, scaring yourself with the heaviness of your tone, and he was gathering his things, tea forgotten.

When he left, you waved him out, mouth wobbling, and you burst into tears after closing the door, clutching your mouth, your sobs shaking you, sinking down to the floor.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You’d agreed to lift Joris the previous night, so you were glad to ditch seeing Charles until you really had to - an hour later, you walked into his driver’s room; he was doing some exercises with Andrea while the social media intern videoed him. You stayed out of sight of the camera, leaning against the wall, trying to distract yourself from the previous night’s events.

You were wearing more makeup than usual to hide your puffy eyes from the tears last night, determined to act as if nothing had happened. You really hated that Charles had cheated on his girlfriend with you; you could put it down to him being vulnerable, but you were at fault as much as he was.

When everyone had left, Charles was left on the couch staring sheepishly at you. You crossed your arms, an invisible ocean separating you two, you two continents.

“I told Alex.” He said calmly.

“And?”

“She said she can’t be with me if I’m not being faithful and she’s not there all the time. We’ve only been together three months. She’s not into it.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugged. “It was my fault. I made a move when I wasn’t meant to. I’m sorry for putting you in that position.”

From the way he was moaning yesterday, you weren’t sure if that was true.

“Okay.” You snort, moving to open the door. “Driver’s parade in 20 minutes. I’ll see you later?”

He nodded, waving a goodbye as you left.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

P6, like he started.

It was consistent, Joris had joked in your ear as you shook your head, trying not to laugh. He’d had a pretty good race, the team hadn’t fucked up, it was just the way it went.

He had been busy with press and much more before he ended up back with Andrea where you and Joris had been waiting for about three hours (you were also a bit drunk; you’d had too many glasses of champagne from Paddock Club).

“Hi!” You giggled, high-fiving him. “Good job.” Joris also cackled, and Charles shot you a glare. “Are you drunk?”

“No.” You said firmly, shaking your head. “I am very sober.” You said, and Joris nodded seriously. “We had a little bit of champagne.”

Andrea gestures to the bottle that was on the table beside you. “What’s that?”

“For Cha! A well done.” You beamed, and presented it to him. Charles couldn’t help but laugh. “I am going to have to drive you two back in her car, no? Put my bicycle in the back.”

You and Joris were squealing with laughter at the idea, and the two standing before you were laughing at you.

“Come, you fucking idiots.”

“No! You can’t insult me, you kiiiiissssed me,” you giggled, and Joris didn’t catch it, but Andrea did, shooting Charles a glare, who if looks could kill, would’ve shot you dead. He looked so pissed.

“Come,” he snapped, and Andrea said that he’d take Joris.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

He pulled up to your apartment. “Come in.” You said, and Charles scoffed. “Not for a long time now. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You looked so vulnerable, rain falling on your head as you peered down at him. “Are you taking my car? I’ll come fetch it tomorrow.” You said softly. “Thanks for taking me. I’m sorry, I was stupid. I needed to relax for one fucking minute this week.”

Charles’ eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to say something before he closed it, nodding curtly, and drove away.

You couldn’t differentiate the raindrops from your tears, forcefully wiping them away.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

You knocked on his door at midday the next afternoon, wanting to thank him before flying to Spain. You hated the energy he’d given you since you’d kissed; it was wildly different and you loathed it.

He answered a minute or so later, glasses on and a scruffy jumper, eyes tired. “Hi,” you were out of breath all of a sudden; he was so terribly attractive.

He looked surprised to see you. “I came to say thank you. And get my keys.”

“Come in. Do you want coffee?” He said instead, and you felt a bit of déjà vu from two nights before, hauntingly familiar.

You loved his apartment. The red and white was a colour scheme you adored, and you sat on the sofa while he made you a coffee, one spoon of sugar and a splash of milk just how you liked.

“I want to say sorry for how weird I was this week. I just hate the Grand Prix in Monaco, you know?” You said hurriedly, and he set down the coffee, sitting down next to you. He laughed. “I know. I know.” It had been this way since 2021- when you had started working for him- and he kept having shit races here.

He held out his hand. You squeezed it. “Let’s move on from it.”

He smirked. “Am I such a bad kisser?”

Your jaw dropped, throwing your head back laughing. “Cha!”

He was dead serious. “Why do you want to move on?”

“I work for you?” You said, disbelievingly, and his mouth twitched. “Charles, come on.”

He picked up the mug and took a sip.

You quite literally wanted to die.

He set it down again, looking seriously at you. “I don’t regret the kiss, if you want to know.”

You stare at him. “It literally broke you and your girlfriend up.”

“I like you.” He shrugged. “More than her. More than I thought.”

You laugh, bringing the coffee to your lips. “And when I saw your lipstick on my face…” he trailed off, blushing, “Fuck.”

You swear you were as red as a mother fucking tomato at this point.

“Slow down.” You retorted, trying not to spit the coffee out.

“Kiss me.”

You stare at him again. Was he fucking delusional?

“What?” You hiss.

He rolls his eyes and kisses you.

You’re pulled onto his lap, breath gone, kissing him as hard as you can. Your head is thrown back as he goes for your neck, and the sounds he’s making make you moan.

“You’re really hot with glasses on,” you tell him, and he falters, giggling, before carrying on.

This time you let him take his shirt off, matching him.

You fall back onto the couch. Those eyes on yours, the eyes of your beautiful boy.

❤️‍🔥💿💌🍓

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lorenzotl Padel boyssss

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masterlist

[marvelstoriesepic]

Two

Pairing: College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.

Word count: 6.2k

Warnings: Annoyance to lovers; scared!Reader; scare actor with chainsaw; scarecrows; protective!Bucky; little bit of sad!Bucky

Author’s note: This is me ignoring my wips and writing something that randomly popped up in my head. Wrote this all in one sitting but I’m actually genuinely happy with it :)

Masterlist

“We’re going to get lost in there.”

“With your sense of direction, definitely, but thankfully you have me.”

You shove Nat in the shoulder lightly enough, grumbling under your breath, while Wanda on your other side snickers softly.

The brunette links her arm with yours. “We’ll stay together the whole time,” she assures you.

“Well, I left my bed for this, so this better be good!”

Natasha and Wanda insisted on visiting the corn maze event your town had to offer this year. And since they claimed it would be boring to do this in daylight you now are standing in front of towering stalks of corn being so close together, they obscure the view inside. Sure, it would be way too easy otherwise but, the easier this is, the faster you’d be getting out of here.

There is a clear cut through the corn, signaling the entrance to the maze, but you can’t see past the artificial fog swirling in the tunnel so that’s no help either. The branches over the entrance have cobwebs dangling down and a scarecrow is placed right beside the hole, its eyes glowing red with unnatural light.

A few dimly lit jack-o-lanterns path the way to the foggy entrance, giving only enough light to make sure you wouldn’t catch on uneven ground and fall before anything even started. That would surely be embarrassing enough for the night.

You can make out faint whispers coming from inside the maze, unsure if those come from other visitors or if they are simply sound effects. Either way, you don’t like it. It’s not like you get scared easily. But there’s something about the dark that had always irked you and you don’t feel like getting jumped by some scare actor tonight or some other shit.

There are a few other people standing in groups around you three, talking to staff members, or looking at the map of the maze to somewhat prepare. You don’t pay them any mind though. There is no way you’d be socializing tonight.

“Alright, let’s get this party started!” Nat exclaims beside you.

“I don’t see this being a party,” you mutter, “and shouldn’t we get a map as well? Might be helpful, you know?” The dry sarcasm in your voice gives way to the enthusiasm you are absolutely lacking.

“We don’t need a map. Come on!” Is all she says as she pulls you and Wanda to the entrance.

“Alright well, just so you know, I'm blaming it on you when we’re still aimlessly wandering around in there by dawn,” you warn, but there’s clearly amusement in your tone you can’t suppress and you share a quick laugh with Wanda.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

It takes you three a little more than fifteen minutes to find the first checkpoint. You’re not sure if this is good or bad timing but at least you haven’t lost anyone of your small group yet so that is good.

The small flashlights you had been given earlier by an instructor cast narrow beams through the dense, twisted rows of the maze. Now, each light lands on the scarecrow ahead, its ragged form standing as still as the one you passed at the entrance. He only has one arm outstretched, clearly pointing in the direction you’ll find the next checkpoint.

“This way,” Natasha calls out, already turning to follow the path being pointed at. Her black leather jacket catches the glow of your flashlight as you walk behind her, Wanda beside you.

You hear a set of screams echoing faintly through the maze, the fifth one since you entered - an indication that in the distance, other visitors just got ambushed by scare actors in the dark. You have no intention of being next so you’re thankful for Nat taking the lead.

However, your gaze constantly darts behind you, checking your back every few minutes, convinced that at any moment something - or rather someone - might leap out of the shadows. You quickly assess and flash the path you had walked seconds earlier, before turning around again, paranoia creeping in with every step.

Distracted, you almost miss the tombstone jutting from the path ahead of you. Your heart skips a beat as your foot catches the edge, but before your face can meet the ground, Wanda’s hand shoots out. She firmly latches onto your jacket sleeve, pulling you back and steadying you, an amused laugh slipping past her lips.

“Thanks, Wan,” you laugh, a little out of breath.

“Getting lost already, ladies?”

You shriek, your heart nearly jumping out of your chest, and Wanda yelps in unison. You bump into her side, both of you spinning around hastily toward the source of the voice. Even Nat flinched, but she seems to recover quickly, letting out a low chuckle as she eyes the three figures standing before you.

You could practically hear the sultry smile she’s undoubtedly wearing behind you as she questions them. “What are you guys doing here?”

Yeah, what are they doing here? You narrow your eyes at the man who made you leap out of your skin.

Bucky Barnes. Of course.

In the middle of a creepy maze, with scare actors hiding around almost every corner, he somehow managed to sneak up on you. Typical. You shouldn’t be surprised he found you in a fucking labyrinth.

“Thought we’d check out the fancy attraction everyone’s been yapping about.” It’s Sam who answers, his words laced with a teasing grin as he stands slightly behind Bucky with his arms crossed over his chest, clearly entertained.

But Bucky didn’t even acknowledge Nat’s question. His focus remains on you, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips and that glint in his eyes you know so well. He’s evidently pleased with himself for catching you off guard. Fantastic.

Steve, who comes into focus on Sam’s other side, offers you girls a sympathetic smile. There is an apology written in the way he tilts his head. “We didn’t know you were planning on coming, or else we would’ve asked you to join us,” he says, voice sincere.

Before you can respond, Bucky cuts in, stepping forward with that infuriatingly confident swagger. He throws a lazy arm over your shoulder, pulling your stiff form against his side. “Ah well, we’re together now, so let’s stay that way. We’ll get you through this maze well-protected, girls.”

His voice carries that signature smugness as if he’s doing you some grand favor and you should be grateful. You’re not. Definitely, absolutely not.

You immediately shake off his arm, stepping away from him with a sharp glare. “Yeah, no thanks. We’ll manage on our own,” you argue.

Bucky raises an eyebrow, noticeably unfazed. His smirk deepens as he leans in, eyes gleaming with amusement. “Surely that scream said something different, doll. Don’t you think?”

You scowl. “Oh, shut up, Barnes-”

Steve interrupts you with his hands held up, palms open in a calming gesture. “Let’s not make this difficult. We’ll go our own way if that’s what you want.”

“Stay,” Nat drawls, standing relaxed with her arms crossed and shooting you a teasing glance. “It’s funnier that way.”

You cut her a look that should have been able to kill her. The corners of her mouth only curl higher as she turns back towards the path ahead of you.

You see Bucky’s grin from the corner of your eyes.

You all resumed walking, six flashlights cutting through the eerie darkness around you, their beams illuminating the narrow, winding path ahead. Despite your reluctance to admit it, having the guys with you provided some sort of ease. Your shoulders droop slightly and your gait becomes more confident.

More often than not you feel the hot gaze of Bucky on your skin but choose to ignore it, focusing on the path ahead so as not to stumble over another tombstone.

“So, have you guys started preparing for-” Steve’s voice breaks through the silence but gets immediately cut off by Sam.

“Hell no, no talking about classes, or practice for that matter. That ain’t on my agenda tonight,” Sam scolds rather loudly, his voice filled with mock severity. Nat snorts, still walking ahead of you, and you join in, a small laugh escaping as Steve sighs.

The moment was brief, though, as you round another corner and Nat calls out what lay before you. “Dead end,” she declares, her tone flat but unsurprised. “Turn around.”

Grumbling softly, your group pivots and you retrace your steps to take a different turn, only to find another winding corridor shortly later. This goes on for minutes - Natasha calling out dead ends and your group backtracking to find another path offering no more than the last. The guys didn’t take a map with them as well.

You don’t fail to notice the constant presence of Bucky at your back. Each time you turn a corner he seems just a little closer, the warmth of his proximity soothing the nerves in your veins and helping with the chilling air that comes with the night. You ignore that, though.

However, you can’t ignore the fact that you did not once turn around to check your back since he and the others expanded your little group and Bucky took his place at your back. It’s strange. All the paranoia and unease from earlier had softened somehow, as if his irritating confidence bled into you, making the maze feel a little less menacing, the darkness a little less suffocating.

You feel almost reassured by the steady weight of his attention at your back like his silent presence can ward off any sense of danger.

You’re not sure how to feel about that.

Suddenly, loud menacing laughter erupts from the thick corn wall beside you. The sound is dark and jarring, cutting through the air and sending a bolt of fear through your chest. You startle with a gasp, instinctively reaching for Wanda beside you as you jump away from the bushes, your hand clutching onto her arm.

Your heart pounds violently, the adrenaline making your breath quicken. You’re too lost in the moment to notice the steady hand that has settled on your back - Bucky’s hand.

Without a word, he keeps his palm firmly pressed against the fabric of your jacket as his other hand shoots into the corn wall. You barely register his swift movement until you see him yanking out a small device - a microphone hidden in the stalks, playing that sinister laughter on repeat. With a click, the sound stops.

“Just an audio, doll, everything’s alright,” Bucky explains, his voice low and calm, the teasing edge from earlier absent.

Your breathing slows and you let go of the death grip you had on Wanda’s arm, not registering how tightly you held onto her.

Bucky’s presence remains solid and you glance at him quickly, expecting to find his usual smug grin or some sarcastic remark waiting, hoping you don’t look as embarrassed as you feel.

But there’s none of that. Instead, his expression seems almost grim as he eyes the microphone in his hand, a hint of disgust crossing his face, lips twitching. Without much care, he tosses the device back into the corn, not bothering to see where it lands.

His other hand still lay pressed against your back and you let it ground you for a fleeting second.

However, the shock transforms rather rapidly into confusion. Shouldn’t he be delighted it went on right as you passed it? Usually, he would revel in something like this, tease you for your reaction, and flash you that infuriating smirk.

He doesn’t.

You keep walking for another few minutes, the tension slowly easing back into a manageable rhythm, when Sam barks out. “There! Second checkpoint! Y’all that’s on me!”

He moves past Wanda, stopping in front of a small carton laid out on a makeshift table. Scattered across the surface were pieces of a puzzle, all with seemingly random lines on them. Four small wooden stools sat nearby, clearly set up for people to take a seat while working on the puzzle.

“A puzzle?” Bucky asks incredulously, coming to a halt with a frown, his hands on his hips.

“I think it’s cute,” Wanda offers with a smile, moving to one of the stools and lowering herself down. She picks up a piece, studying it as she begins sorting through the chaos. You agree, following her lead and settling on a stool beside her.

“You too cool for a puzzle, Barnes? Or are you scared you won’t be able to solve it?” you mock half-heartedly, your eyes already skimming over the pieces, trying to find where they fit together.

Bucky scoffs, his teasing tone returning full force. “Joke’s on you, sweetheart. I’m an excellent puzzle solver. Always did this with Bec’s when she was small.”

His voice was lighter now and you feel yourself relax a little more at the returning banter settling between you.

Though you find yourself thinking about the small comment about his sister you keep stuck on and curiosity rises in you at the little insight in his former private life. You shouldn’t find this as interesting as you did. And you shouldn’t want to know more.

Bucky lowers himself into a crouch beside you since the two other wooden stools sit beside Wanda. Nat and Steve sit down on those with mild amusement, all eyes on the puzzle pieces.

Bucky stays rather close to your side, his thigh brushing against your own as he reaches over the small makeshift table.

Sam hovers over Wanda’s shoulder, offering commentary and the glow of his flashlight as she arranges the border pieces with surprising efficiency.

“It’s an arrow,” you quip, placing a few more pieces together with a minor sense of accomplishment.

“Oh yeah? How’d you figure that out?” Bucky smirks beside you, playful as ever as he gives you a gentle shove to your shoulder with his own.

Annoyance creeps back in and you roll your eyes. “Cut it, Barnes. What you’re doing over there isn’t helpful either,” you snap, shoving him more forcefully in return. He sways slightly on the balls of his feet, letting out a low chuckle that only grates on your nerves more.

For what feels like the hundredth time, you slap his hand away from the pieces you’ve already fit together. Bucky stopped sticking his own pieces together and rather enjoys reaching over and intentionally placing the wrong pieces onto yours, or worse, rearranging what you’d already solved, eyes twinkling with mischief and the corners of his mouth tugged high up his cheeks. Each time you fix it, he finds another way to mess it up.

You refuse to look at his blinding grin.

You huff instead, slapping his other hand away as it winds around your arms trying to sneak another mismatched piece into your section.

You're also too occupied to notice the knowing glances shared across the table.

“Alright, alright, let’s get this done so we can keep moving. I’m trying to make it outta here in one piece, people,” Sam jokes with a lightness in his voice that suggests he’s enjoying this rather thoroughly.

You finished the puzzle quickly, the final piece snapping into place, and you had to hold back Bucky’s hands, refraining him from spinning the whole thing to make the arrow point in the wrong direction.

A few minutes into the walk and a few dead ends later, Wanda breaks the comfortable silence. “When’s your next game again, guys?” she asks softly.

Sam let out a groan of exasperation, throwing his arms out dramatically, almost hitting Nat. “Oh come on! What’d I say about that, huh?”

He’d been walking at the front since he claimed his spot as the lead after 'earning' it by finding the checkpoint. He turns around as he talks, facing Wanda with a playful glare.

“You said no talking about class or practice. So, I can ask about games,” she counters with a smile.

From behind you, Steve’s laugh rumbles through the group. “She got you there, pal.”

Sam shakes his head, turning ahead again, muttering. “Yeah, yeah. Game’s next Saturday.”Though his annoyance is half-hearted at best.

Then, from beside you, Bucky’s voice breaks through, casual but directed. “You’re coming, right?”His tone is laid back with an underlying expectation. The question seems to be aimed at the group but he was looking at you.

Bucky had stepped up to walk beside you after you resumed walking, his pace matching yours and you see the way his head is tilted in your direction.

You glance up at him, blue eyes watching you. He obviously waits for an answer.

“Don’t know. Maybe I have to work then.” You shrug, playing it off, and look back forward again. But you’re surprised at the way your pulse quickens under his gaze and your hand squeezes the flashlight a little tighter.

You don’t always put a whole lot of effort into being there for their games. Sure, you showed up every now and then, but not nearly as often as everyone else. It wasn’t for lack of support. More like self-preservation.

Watching Bucky stride onto the field with that cocky confidence, owning every inch of the space around him, irks you incredibly. He’s good, and he knows it - he owns it.

Unfortunately for you though, sometimes you couldn’t shove down your annoyance for the guy enough and he, unbeknownst to himself, found a way of making your stomach flip in ways you weren’t entirely proud of.

Also, that football gear - You hate the way your body reacts upon seeing him in it as if it were the first time. The fitted jersey, the helmet tucked under his arm, the way his shoulders look even broader in the pads, the brown tendrils of his fluffy and tousled hair falling over his forehead - it all makes your stomach flutter every time and it drives you crazy.

So you found ways to avoid it. You picked up extra shifts at the library, checked the game schedule weeks in advance to make sure you had a built-in excuse. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, just something casual you were doing to avoid unnecessary distractions. But deep down, you knew better.

And so does Natasha - if her smirk in your direction is anything to go by. You glare at her to move her attention, but it’s useless.

You’re unprepared for the following corner of the maze, lingering in the echo of your thoughts. So when the scare actor does his job, emerging from the shadows and brandishing a chainsaw that roars to life in a terrifying symphony, your soul might have just kissed you goodbye.

The flickering light from the chainsaw illuminates his grimy, masked face, a wicked smile etched across his features, and eyes glimmering with twisted mischief.

You scream - just like Wanda, just like Sam. Nat lets out a quick yelp herself and you hear the sharp intake of a breath behind you from Steve. Bucky, who had seemingly been lost in his own thoughts, flinches beside you. In a swift motion, he surges closer, grabbing your arm harsher than probably intended and pulling you to his side. His leg instinctively positions his body in front of you.

The outfit of the actor - or that’s what you try to tell yourself he is - is a patchwork of tattered flannel and soiled jeans, the perfect embodiment of a deranged lumberjack. Raised high, the chainsaw vibrates with a menacing growl, its teeth gleaming wickedly as the man brandishes it like a weapon, the scent of gasoline mingling with the earthiness of the maze.

You clutch Bucky's arm, fingers digging into the firm muscle of his biceps as he stands protectively before you, his stance rigid and shoulders tense. Your other hand is linked with his, shaking fingers surrounded by steady ones. Though his stance is stiff and tense.

Time seems to freeze as Nat, Wanda, and Sam stand still in front of you, Steve’s presence at your back.

Your heart races violently in your chest, suffocating you, and for a moment, it feels like your breath stopped altogether as the chainsaw-wielding man lunges toward you six.

All you are able to do in your state of panic is squeeze Bucky’s hand so tightly you might have feared his blood circulation cut off, if your mind were able to conjure up a thought at the moment.

Bucky reacts instantly. Without hesitation, he pivots and bolts down the maze, pulling you along. His fingers clutch yours with such fierce intensity as if his only fear is losing you in this chaos.

Steve surges ahead, taking a sharp turn right while Bucky guides you left, then right, and left again; maneuvering the maze like a seasoned racer. The world around you blurs as you focus solely on keeping up, your heart racing along with your feet. All sense of direction is lost in the chaos and you can’t tell if Nat, Sam, and Wanda are still trailing behind or if they’re swallowed by the cornrows.

You try to take a glance back, hoping to catch a glimpse of red hair, dark brown skin, or Wanda’s long coat.

“Don’t look back!” Bucky shouts over the roar of the chainsaw, his voice snapping your head to the front before you can see anything else besides the blur of yellow-green walls. “Switch off your flashlight!”

You do as you’re told.

You could have had a relaxed evening, maybe taking a bath or watching a show with warm tea and popcorn but no, instead you find yourself chased by a man with a real fucking chainsaw.

Panic surges through you again, your breaths getting shorter at Bucky's fast pace and you feel his hand tighten. There’s an unexpected strength in the way he holds you, his muscles coiling with determination. He navigates the twists and turns with instinctive agility, intense eyes moving over to you every few seconds as if the only important thing here is you.

And somehow that is oddly reassuring and maybe a bit satisfying at the moment. All that mattered is Bucky’s strong grip, anchoring you as you run alongside him.

Around another corner, the path opens up to a small clearing that offers a momentary respite. Bucky pulls you into the safety of the space, pressing your back against the rough stalks of corn, their leaves brushing against your skin. You stand chest to chest, touching each other with every ragged breath you take in.

Bucky still seems composed despite all the running you just did.

He faces the direction you had come from, muscles coiled and ready to react, arms on either side of you, practically hugging you to his chest.

“We lost the others,” you pant, glancing around as best as you could with a mountain of muscle blocking your view.

Bucky’s face is a mask of focus, his eyes scanning the maze. “Yeah. Just stay with me,” he murmurs, lowering his voice, his breath fanning over your cheeks.

He takes another few seconds to assess the surroundings, before looking down at you. “Are you alright?” he asks softly, yet urgently.

You had never been this close to Bucky before, had never imagined such a scenario, and it leaves you unprepared for the overwhelming feelings that flood your senses.

The moonlight cast a slightly silver glow over his features but some remain hidden in shadows. His eyes search yours and you find yourself caught in the depths of his irises, a captivating swirl of blue that makes it hard to look away. His lips are parted slightly, soft breaths brushing against your cheeks and your nose fills with a scent that is something distinctly him. It doesn’t help with finding your voice. The slight furrow in his brow suggests worry as he scans your features.

You nod, still breathless from the scare and his proximity.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you manage to reply, though just then, a chilling laughter echoes from around you. The sound of the chainsaw roars back to life, slicing through the stillness.

You flinch in Bucky’s hold, instinctively moving closer and burrowing half in his chest. “Fucking asshole,”you breathe out a laugh and Bucky tightens his arms momentarily around you with a low chuckle. He seems to relax a little.

“We’ll have to keep moving,” he states, a slight trace of amusement in his tone as he looks back at you. He lifts his hand for a second as if longing to tuck the loose strands of hair behind your ears that landed in your face after the frantic escape.

You ignore the sliver of disappointment as he takes his hand back and moves away slightly, letting the chill night air brush against your skin instead of his warm breath. You feel cold, despite the adrenaline pumping in your veins.

The laughing grows louder and Bucky links his hand with yours again. “You ready?” he asks, waiting for your nod before starting to run again, darting through the maze some more.

You have no idea how long it takes before you come to another stop but your chest heaves with exhaustion as you do, ragged breaths leaving your lips. Bucky stands composed with narrowed eyes, looking around the maze.

The silence between you is perhaps a little uncomfortable, the only sound being the heavy breathing of your own labored lungs.

“Well, shit,” you utter after regaining some semblance of balance. “How do we find the others? I have no idea where we are.”

Bucky’s eyes meet yours, his expression unreadable for a moment. He licks his lips, then shrugs nonchalantly. “Looks like it's just the two of us.”

Your incredulous gaze sweeps over his face. “Seriously?” you ask, coming out sharper than intended.

Bucky rubs his hand over his face, looking away from you. “I’m sure they’re fine. Not like anything ever happens in these things. Sam probably already made a bet that he makes it to the exit before we do. So we should just…try and beat 'em.”

You know he tries to seem like this doesn’t affect him at all but there is something about him that makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. He looks a little defeated, perhaps even…hurt. And you don’t quite understand why.

Bucky’s eyes crinkle at the corners slightly as he tries for a smile but it looks wry. “Come on, doll! We’re a great team,” he insists.

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, I don’t know about that, Barnes.”

Pain shoots through your chest. Not unfamiliar but not known around Bucky. His faltered expression stings and you don’t know what to do besides watching him drop his eyes to his feet and sigh heavily.

The sound feels like a punch to the gut, leaving you breathless once again but without running from a man with a chainsaw.

His hands move over his hair. “It’s still Bucky for you doll. Told you many times,” he says softly, voice heavy with a mixture of dejection and desperation. “And we don’t really have a choice now, do we? We don’t know where the others are and it might take hours to find them. Just looking for the exit of this thing would be easier. Bet the others are doing the same.”

He looks at you then, with a troubled expression, seeming so vulnerable all of a sudden, traces of the cocky football player lost somewhere in this maze.

You nod then, slowly, not able to bring a word out because you have no clue as to what has him this sad.

“Alright,” he continues, nodding to himself. “I think we might have run past the third checkpoint. Let’s find the last one.”

The silence between Bucky and you stretches out like a fragile thread, the tension building with each passing moment. You can feel him glancing at you every few paces and you look over at him every once in a while but nobody says anything.

You don’t even talk when reaching another dead end, just turning around and resuming to walk.

He seems to let you lead, though, taking the turns you do.

You let your gaze sweep over the maze’s twists and turns until something catches your eye. A small, narrow wooden post stands almost camouflaged among the corn stalks, and your pace quickens.

“Over there! Look!”

It feels weird to break the silence between you but you don’t look over at Bucky as you approach the post and hear him fall into step behind you.

It’s adorned with two wooden flags, both having slightly faded letters atop. You read the first one, a small riddle as it seems.

“What’s it say?” Bucky asks, his voice quiet and low near your ear.

The glow of your flashlight helps you make out the words. “It says…What has keys but can’t open locks? What has a face but no eyes, nose, or mouth?”

You chance a quick glance at Bucky beside you. His eyes narrow. “I think I know this one,” he says slowly. “A clock, maybe.”

You read the riddle again, feeling his eyes on your profile. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” You hesitate a second. “Damn, Barnes. Not only all muscle, I see!” You're grateful for the teasing tone that made its way back to your voice and out of the corner of your eye, you can see Bucky’s grin lighting up his face again.

“You’d be surprised, doll,” he replies softly, a smile in his voice.

It isn’t quite the answer you had expected.

You thought he’d dig out the fact that you basically complimented his figure and you snapped your gaze up to his, though he doesn’t meet your eyes, instead staring at the letters on the wooden post.

“So, it’s a clock. What do we do with that?” He questions and you slowly turn back, lighting up the wooden flags again.

“There’s more.”

You move your light to the second flag, starting to read what’s written there.

“I’m a number that’s often paired. In harmony, I’m the perfect tease. Together we’re a perfect pair. A balance of Yin and Yang to share. In the morning, I’m bright and bold. By night, I’m soft and gentle to hold. My presence is felt in every way. From sunrise to sunset, every day.”

You hadn’t even finished reading when Bucky began shuffling a little beside you, straightening his spine. He watches you in silence now and you do your best to ignore his gaze.

You had no idea who came up with that riddle, but you feel like slapping that person. The weird tension between Bucky and you only tightens, seeming to snap any minute and this is no help at all.

Those words seem to sear themselves into your brain, echoing with an unsettling intimacy, you either wanted to bask in or get rid of.

You feel yourself wandering down a dangerous road.

You stare at those words carved into wood and it is as if someone had been watching you two, studying your dynamic, and decided to reduce your complicated relationship to a text.

But do you really think so?

In harmony? A perfect pair? Yin and Yang?

You know there was always something. You can try to suppress feelings for all you want but how can you get rid of something you won’t even acknowledge in the first place.

You like him. You like him a whole lot. Damn it, there is just something about this idiot you have to adore. But you can’t tell him that. Not now.

Not when the weight of his gaze hasn’t left you yet and you feel a flush rise in your cheeks.

Finally, you meet Bucky’s eyes, still fixed on you, as if waiting for something. His expression is unreadable and you feel like bolting away into the corn maze and getting lost. Maybe forever.

How can he look so calm and rigid at the same time? You know he is affected by those words but it looks more like he tries to see what they do to you.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours, so intense, your throat constricts and you look away, clearing your throat in hopes it will break the spell.

“Two,” you croak out. “That’s the answer. We have to head towards two o’clock.”

You see Bucky nodding slowly from the corner of his eye, his jaw clenched and you begin walking again.

The tension is palpable, like a living entity that wrapped itself around you. Every step feels like a struggle as if you’re wading through quicksand, fighting against the undertow of your own emotions.

The silence grows so thick, you can hardly breathe.

Light.

There is light just around the corner, beckoning you forward and distant voices grow louder with each step you take.

But right after rounding the corner, fog appears, wrapping you in its damp, grey folds. It’s disorienting at first but feels just like the fog you had passed at the entrance so this has to be a good sign.

However, as you spin around, desperate to locate Bucky, he is lost in the mist and you feel the suffocating need to feel him, hands reaching out frantically, grasping at nothing.

“Bucky!” You call out, voice strained and urgent. You don’t even notice the nickname rolling off your tongue, torn from your lips as if ripped from your throat.

In an instant, a gentle touch brushes against your arm. You jerk back at first, startled, but then feel the soft pressure of Bucky’s fingers wrap around yours. His other hand takes hold of yours, touch so gentle and careful as if you are something to be treasured.

Your heart begins to race as you realize he is right in front of you, chest nearly pressed against yours just like earlier, though this time it feels much more intense, intimate, purposeful.

You strain to see beyond the veil of mist, but it’s like gazing into a void. All you can make out is the faint outline of Bucky’s form, his chest rising and falling with each breath. His breathing is growing ragged. He can run however long away from a chainsaw-wielding man but standing in front of you is what makes him lose his breath?

Blood is pumping through your veins and you feel it rushing through your ears. He’s still standing in front of you, hands holding yours, chest resting against yours and you feel his hot breath against your face again.

You try to comprehend what he is doing, why he doesn’t lead you to the exit, but deep down you know. He’s gauging your reaction. Maybe he saw something in your gaze while reading this riddle, maybe it was in the way you looked at him, or carried yourself. But something about the way you had acted seemed to have given him courage. He found something as he searched your gaze at the wooden post.

And now he’s waiting for you.

“Bucky,” you whisper, barely audible but the hitch of a breath right in front of you is an indication he heard you.

His name is a plea, a confirmation, the consent to continue what he started.

Bucky’s fingers caress your skin, moving up your arms in such a slow motion as if he’s mapping and memorizing how every inch of your skin feels under his fingertips. Shivers run down your spine and goosebumps erupt in the wake of his hands and you know he can feel it.

His hesitation tempers down with every second.

The touch of his fingertips is magnetic and although you can’t see it, it draws you in with an almost magnetic force. You feel yourself leaning into him, eyes fixed on the fog where you know his own are, as if willing to clear it, ready to see the exact kind of blue you fell for. But you know he’s looking at you, not seeing, but still looking. And that was enough to make your stomach flutter.

As his fingers reach your face he gently tucks the flyaway strands behind your ear, holding your face in his palms and tilting it just right. His forehead lands on yours and you take a deep breath in until all you consume is him.

You don’t care about the eyesight you are lacking at the moment. You wouldn’t even care about hearing that menacing laughter again, or the roar from the chainsaw, because here in Bucky’s arms you’ve never felt saver.

You feel his presence in every way.

And when your lips meet his, moving in sync, you know.

In harmony! Like the perfect pair! Yin and Yang!

“Hold your horses, people, I hear something.”

You ignore Sam’s voice outside the fog, attention set on Bucky and his plump lips, his tongue gliding in your mouth, exploring its new home.

“Barnes! Hey, man! Y/n! You in there?”

Sam’s shout again remains ignored.

“You lost, guys, everyone’s out here!”

Bucky pulls away at that, resting his forehead against yours. You feel his huge smile against yours, keeping your eyes closed.

“Nah,” he whispers against your lips. “I definitely won today.”

“The road might be long

The stars may not guide me

But if you keep your heart open

I will find you”

- Michael Xavier

[becomingmina]

FUCKBOY MIN 2. little series w/ LEEKNOW + HYUNJIN

18+ ONLY! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

pairing: hwang hyunjin x female reader x lee minho genre + warnings: slight angst wc: 3.5k mina's note: I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took a while! This part was was like a filler, I know.

other works here ; any comments and thoughts you can drop them here ; ty for reading.

series chapter ➵ part one, part three ending one

“You done crying yet or?” Hyunjin jokes after watching over you for the past thirty minutes. He was in the drivers seat handing out countless tissues to you, who was in his passenger’s.

“Hyunjin, stop,” you crack up at his teasing. You were done crying now, you just weren’t done being upset yet. A heavy feeling still lingering around your shoulders as you try your best to block out Minho’s words circulating in your head.

“Are you still not going to tell me what he said to you in the bathroom?” A hand comes to wipe away the last of your tears, his tone gentler now.

Hyunjin can see the marks on your neck, anyone can. He can tell what happened in the bathroom and he knows Minho must’ve said something to overwhelmed you to cry, but he just doesn’t know what exactly.

“I don’t want to re-live it Hyunjin,” you couldn’t tell him. You didn’t want to tell him that you said the L word to Minho within the same month you got rejected by him. Hyunjin could never judge you for that but how can you tell him without telling the whole thing, how it was forced out of you. Dirty? Dirty because of Hyunjin? The words repeats again, haunting you. Hyunjin was involved in Minho’s mean and hurtful words and you feel guilty. Hyunjin did absolutely nothing wrong, he didn’t deserved to be dragged into whatever mess was going on between you and Minho.

“Why? Is it because you might cry again?” He playfully says, not wanting you to feel downhearted at your own actions. He lets out a giggle after observing how you quickly pierced your eyes at him sassily - something you picked up from him. It doesn't matter what situation you're in, Hyunjin always makes it light hearted. He's so playful but in a way where he is still careful and you never fail to warm up to him. Just like this moment.

“I just got my heart broken by the city’s fuckboy, I don’t need the city’s heartbreaker to feed into it,” you chuckle and he follows with furrowed brows, unable to keep a straight face at the names.

“Those names are crazy Y/N,” he remarks.

“I actually don’t think you’re a heartbreaker Hyunjin, it’s just what everyone calls you,” you reassured him, hand finding his to give him a tight squeeze.

"I probably am one," he held yours back tighter, letting you know he didn’t take it to heart. "I'm curious though," he continues .

“Hmm?”

“Curious to why the city’s fuckboy keeps yelling at you,” you eyed him again, arms crossed this time with a fake pout. “Or is it that you’re just a cry baby?” he laughs but he was serious though, he wanted to see why Minho keeps leaving you in tears.

“I’m not a cry baby,” you defend yourself. “You’re probably tired of me crying hey? I know how to smile too!” To be fair, you were kind of a cry baby especially as this is the second time he has picked you up and wiped away your tears, all within a month.

“Wait, can you actually?” he continues.

“I’m actually really sweet Hyunjin, I promise!”

“How about the city’s heartbreaker takes you out one day?” The tension from the incident with Minho start to disappear as Hyunjin slowly soothes it, directing your attention somewhere else - something he is very good at.

“Hmm?” brows furrowed together. His question had taken you by surprise, you were unsure if he was serious. “Like on a date?” You clarified.

“Mhmm,” he confirmed. “So you can show me how sweet you can be and that you’re not just a cry baby.” He already knows how sweet you are. Last couple of weeks you guys spent together talking about everything and nothings have really shown him what type of person you are. You were caring, cheerful, playful. You loved to tease, loves to be teased and takes on jokes like a champ. You were just full of laughter and happiness and meeting someone like you is hard for Hyunjin. It seems that he has developed a soft spot for you, but unlike Minho he isn’t afraid to show you.

You just giggle back, unaware of the thoughts going through Hyunjin’s head, everything falling into silence right after.

Hyunjin is a lovely person and you hate to say yes just to distract yourself from Minho. But Hyunjin has that effect on you, where he has made you forgot about Minho whenever you’re with him. You don’t know how to explain it. Like earlier tonight before all of this, when you went with him to the party, you had zero care for anyone and anything besides Hyunjin and wine. Or like right now, Minho was slowly fading away in your head. If you give him a chance, maybe he’ll be better than Minho. He always was, seeing as he was the one who was here, unlike Minho who didn’t even chase after you.

“Hyune?”

“Hmm?”

“A date with you sounds cool,” your silly smile returning. He couldn’t control his smile back, his eyes turning into thin lines as his upper lips disappears a little showing his white pearlys.

The man who broke your heart an hour ago long forgotten, in moments like this.

+

“You okay hyung?” Han asks, after observing Minho for the past hour just downing his drinks.

“Yeah.. Good.. I’m good.” Minho could barely reply, slurring on his words clearly intoxicated.

“What happened in the bathroom? What did you do to her?” Han was worried about you both. He still doesn't understand what you did to get Minho to push you away like that, especially when Minho would used to reschedule his plans with Han and their friend group just to be with you. It was clear to Han that you guys had something going on. Minho wasn’t much of a drinker too but seeing him suddenly finish all these drinks made Han sense something was up.

“Nothing, I just.. Nothing just shooed her away like usual,” Minho replied, acting uninterested in the conversation.

“Marks on your neck tells me otherwise,” Han replied back, eyeing up at his hyung. Minho doesn’t reply, instead he stays quiet, one hand coming into contact with the marks you left on his skin. His head is in a daze, the scene of you pressing kisses to his neck, how soft your plump lips felt, your tiny hands holding the back of his neck to keep him in place while the other was wrapped around his..

“Hyung? Hey hyung?” Han snaps the older man out of his thoughts, holding him by the shoulder trying to steady him. “She’s a good girl. If you don’t like her don’t do that to her.”

“She gave me the marks Jisung.. I didn’t do anything to her,” Minho huffed, trying to defend himself.

“Sure, it’s not like she didn’t walk out of the bathroom with marks herself,” Minho just rolls his eyes. “If you don’t like her like that, stop hurting her.”

“Looks like you also want to fuck her, seeing as how you’re talking about her-”

“-Just because I feel sorry for her doesn’t mean I want to fuck her, hyung. No girl should be treated like that,”

“Whatever,” Minho pushes the smaller boy’s arms off his shoulders making him stumble back a bit.

“See how you act? You’re a dick. How is it that every other girl gets let off easily when they admit they like you and when Y/N does it she gets yelled at?” Han was over his hyung’s antics, also fuming from the way he was pushed even though he was only trying to help him up.

“Last month you pushed her away then tonight you’re all over her again just because she’s with someone else. You’re so possessive. What did you do to her in the bathroom?!” Han has never called Minho out like this but the way Minho acted was very possessive. It was like he hates seeing other people interested or talk about things that was his. In this instance, you.

“I don’t know,” as much as he hates to admit it, your words engraved itself to his brain. He couldn’t come up with a reason why he treated you the way he did tonight or ever. Just the words I love you bouncing in his head, hitting every surface of his brain. Did he like you back? He’s not in-love with you right? Or was he just possessive over you? Did he want you to himself only? Minho was overwhelmed with his thoughts, unable to voice anything else, eyes just seeking some sort of help from the younger boy.

“You okay hyung?”

“No.”

+

A couple weeks go by and Minho catches himself thinking about you every second pf his day. He doesn’t know how to make it stop. He contacted so many girl just to ghost them before they meet up as he has this feeling of guilt. Not towards the girls, they don’t mean anything to him but guilt towards you. It was like he was doing something wrong to you. But you weren’t even his and he doesn’t even like you back. He has just be constantly in and out, and his friends aren’t any help either. Well to be fair, he’s only been keeping his thoughts to himself so it’s not really his friend’s fault. But you and Hyunjin has been the topic of the week, updates of where you guys went or what you guys did was brought up every single day in conversation.. well ofcourse it would, seeing as how Hyunjin and Minho shares mutual friends.

“You think he really likes her?” Felix asks the others.

“Yeah, if he didn’t he wouldn’t have come with her to the party the other week,” Chan clarified and they nod in agreement.

“Why wonder we haven’t seen him all of last month, he was with Y/N.”

Minho listens to the conversation, quietly contributing and attacking Hyunjin in his head. Yeah but she doesn’t like him. She clearly loves someone else.

“Wasn’t she one of your flings?” Chan’s question wakes Minho up.

“Hmm? Y/N?” Your name comes out more tender than expected from his lips. “I don’t remember,” Minho lies.

“Anyways, I reckon the photo he took of her from earlier this week was cute,” Seungmin says, the rest giggling like high school girls at their friends love life.

“Looks like the heartbreaker Hyunjin found someone he really likes.”

“And Y/N seems to really like him too,” Minho was furious, wanting to tell them what the reality was but even himself wasn’t sure if it was true anymore. Maybe you have fallen for Hyunjin. Maybe you have forgotten all about Minho now.

He looks to his side, watching Felix swipe through Hyunjin’s instagram story. It was the first time he saw you since. You were as pretty as ever. Hair in a half up half down look, in a black dress looking and smiling at Hyunjin’s camera.

Hyunjin had taken you out to one of his favourite bakery and art museum. He had told you to wear something pretty, and be ready by noon. You got dolled up, picking out your most gorgeous dress and by the time he promised, he messaged you to come outside. Hyunjin was lean up against his car, his camera strap across his body, a small bouquet in his hand. It was something you never experienced before, you couldn’t help but smile instantly at the sight. Oh how sweet he was, and definitely very handsome.

“You look like you can be very sweet, Y/N,” he playfully says before pulling you into a hug. You hold him back, arms wrapping around his body pressing your cheeks against his toned chest, staying there a little bit longer than you extended.

“Ready to go?” He asks, and you remove yourself.

“Mhmm, ready to go and ready to show you I can be sweet!” The conversation you had with yourself, a couple days ago still implanted in your head. You will give it a try with Hyunjin. He has always treated you well, despite his title he received from everyone, but a little part of you is afraid. Minho treated you well too, but turned his back on you the second you liked him. You were afraid you were going to fall for it again. Hyunjin could never make you fall for him then ditch you right? But to be honest, has Minho ever picked you up in broad day light like this? No. You guys would sneak around all the time, and was only ever relaxed in a closed off area - that being his house. Minho has never planned a date this. But did your heart wanted that more than this? A unlike tingling heavy feeling fallen in your chest, the feeling is different.

As Felix continues to tap his screen, more images of the date appears. You guys spend a while in the coffee shop just goofing around with each other, then at the art museum.. Oh the art museum.. countless photos of you standing infront of and looking at the art works makes Minho go red.

“Fuck-” Minho bites, fist forming into balls as he feels his blood boiling. Minho was angry now, he was jealous. He didn’t ever show you off like this and was mad someone was able to do.

“Gotta go, gotta go call Bella,” Minho walks out, everyone else looking around trying to seek a reason why he was acting like that.

+

It was dark and late, 9pm to be exact. Silence fill the air as you and Hyunjin both just sit in his car. You shyly glance over to him, unsure of what to do now, he just gives you a smile. You really enjoyed your day with him, it was fun and quite the romantic day. But do you invite him in now? Do you take it slow? What would you do if you invite him in anyways?

"I enjoyed today with you too Hyune," you break the silence. "I'm actually really tried from everything though" you lie, you needed to distant yourself for the rest of the night, to work out what you were feeling. You needed to take it slow. The tingling sensation before was still around you, a feeling you can't explain. "I think I might start ready for bed," you observe his reactions, but there is none. Just him keeping a small smile like earlier.

"We did so much today, I’m tired and ready for bed too," he agrees, one hand reaches over to hold yours. He was so soft, it's like he knows the barrier you had set up. He doesn't questions it and just lets it be.

"Thank you Hyune," you reply, twisting your wrist so your fingers can interlock with his now, giving him some sort of affirmation. You lean in towards him and ahe air grows a bit cold now. You had to do it, to show your gratitude. You continue to move in, giving him a peck to his cheeks. Hyunjin freezes in return, the sudden affection makes him flustered. "Goodnight Hyune." You retracted back your hand, collecting your stuff, along with your nice bouquet of flowers and exiting his car.

It was clear to Hyunjin after the peck that he liked you. He really liked you but he was still unsure of where your feelings stands. Regardless, he wanted to keep trying with you.

+

You were in the middle of the dance floor, to the grand party that Hyunjin asked you to be his date at. Well technically, you were invited by Minho's mum but you can't turn down a cute date with Hyunjin.

“Where are you?” You ask on the phone, eyes searching for a lost Hyunjin. He has disappeared from your sight so suddenly after you guys had spend a hour of drinking the free wine.

“At the table we were before," you can hear him slurring on his words, unable to keep your giggles in at how tipsy he is.

“Okay, coming! Stay where you are," as you turn around someone pulls you back, making you stumble a bit forward into them.

“Can I talk to you?” You encounter a familiar face. Minho was standing in front of you, his hand gripping your wrist not painfully but strong enough for you not to pull back. Your eyes scan his face. He looked so different. He had his hair down covering his forehead, something he never wears out in public. His eyes were coated with a thin cover of gloss, almost looks like he had been draining in his emotions for the longest time ever. Minho looked so soft, you were taken back.

“I gotta go. Hyune’s waiting for me,” you reply trying to pull away from him. You needed to avoid Minho, unsure why but you had too.

“Hyune?”

“Yes, Hyune,” you managed to escape and walked off, only because he loosen his grip. Minho was left on the middle of the dance floor, watching you make your way through the crowd.

“Hyune?” He whispers to himself, confused. A nickname already? Maybe the boys were right.

You don’t know why but a sudden urge to spin around got the best of you.

“Hey Min!” The nickname makes him instantly turn around but he knows it wasn’t going to be you standing there, so he prepared himself for whoever was there.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” he lied to the gorgeous woman infront of him, Bella.

You watch as Minho smile at her, his hand coming in contact with her cheek. You spun around again, not wanting to watch any more of what he got up to, going back to Hyunjin.

+

The music was blaring now and you feel yourself getting light headed from the countless shots and mimosas you consumed. You lean into Hyunjin’s chest, wanting to stay still for a minute to regain control of your body.

Minho doesn't know how he got here but there he stood a couple steps infront of you, watching you with Hyunjin. He has Bella in-front of him holding his hands as she sways to the music, seeking for his attention.

“Hey, I’m losing you here Y/N,” Hyunjin laughs, although him himself was feeling the same thing. He had to control it, he couldn’t let you both loose to alcohol.

“I’m so tired Hyune,” you replied, unable to move your head from his upper chest.

“You wanna go sit down?” He asked, hands coming to your waist to help hold you up. The small contact with your body makes you widen your eyes. You steady yourself back on your heels as you make eye contact with the sweet boy in front you. Your eyes catch his lips for a second, they were so plump, so full and the perfect shade of pink, almost a reddish. A thought ran through your head and you feel guilty about it but you wanted to do it. You want to feel his lips on yours to confirm that feeling that keeps staying around in your chest. His eyes flutter from your eyes to your lips. You looked so pretty like this, your cheeks was pink, eyes looks so bright and full, you were so kissable. Hyunjin slowly leans in, one had holding your face and when he doesn’t see a signal of you avoiding it, he closes the gap between your lips.

Minho’s heart sinks watching Hyunjin kiss you. He has always been possessive of you, hating when your attention is on another person. He has always been annoyed, always been angry but right now, he feels broken, he feels hurt. He didn’t come here with Bella because he liked her. He came here with Bella because he wanted to use her as a distraction. He wanted to use her to get over you. He doesn’t realise it until now, after witnessing the kiss, that since the night you confessed your feelings to him, he felt the same. He felt the same but he was too afraid to say it, to show it. Liking someone was overwhelming, let alone loving someone. Minho was just afraid.

The feeling doesn’t go away, it’s heavy it’s numbing your body. You pull away from Hyunjin’s lips, hands on his chest to help you detach. You can’t keep his eye contact, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hyune, I..” you look up over his shoulder and catches Minho eyes as he towers over Bella. Minho stops to observe you, observing your next move. For a second the world stops, everyone’s face was blurred, the music goes from blaring loud to a long beep, something you hear when your brain restarts similar to the sound in movies when the main character watches someone close to them die. It was only you and Minho.

{Tag list 🏷️@20minsat180dgegrees : @feybin : @whosanaanyway : @k0nst3nceee : @hoes4lino : @ihatewritingshit : @armystay89 : @redstayrosie : @captainchrisstan }

[recklesssturniolo]

could u write a matt imagine where how in the “OVER OR UNDER” video chris says “matt has a titanium rod” y/n is also there and she says “proof?” and later after they get done filming the video y/n stays at their house (she stays in nicks room) then later y/n gets a snap from matt asking what shes doing and she snaps back and says “nothing” (or that she’s watching tiktok i don’t rlly mind) and then matt sends a snap of his dick and says something like “here’s your proof” so then y/n is shocked and doesn’t say anything and matt says like “speechless now?” and then she says like “i’ll be down in a sec” and he says “that’s my good girl” and then she goes down to his room and they fuck (nick is asleep when matt snapped her and when she went to matt’s room btw) if u write this i will be so happy !! i love ur writing btw 💗💗

Proof? - M.S

Based on this req ^ , soft!dom Matt

A/N: I’m not doing collages anymore bc finding photos for them drives me insane

NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor

“Matt has a titanium rod” Chris laughs.

Nick and I begin laughing as Matt just looks at Chris with a shocked expression.

“Proof Matt?” I ask, still laughing.

“Y/N” Nick yells smacking my arm.

“Hey you can’t blame a girl for being curious” I smile back, looking forward and my eyes meeting with Matt, his face displaying an unreadable expression.

Sighing as I flop down onto Nick’s bed, both of us already in pjs and getting under the blankets. A comfortable quiet takes over us as we both mindlessly scroll on our phones. Getting a notification, my eyes look and I notice it’s a Snapchat from Matt. Obviously him and I were good friends, however he rarely ever used the app. Opening his snap I furrow my eyebrows as I read ‘What are you doing?’. Usually once we all said goodnight and went to our rooms it was only Nick and I who’d continue talking.

I snapchat back ‘Nothing, why?’. Watching as it shows me he opened it but a snapchat not being sent back from him. Confused I click off the app and open TikTok and go back to scrolling. A few minutes passed and I got another snapchat from Matt, clicking on it my jaw drops and a gasp leaves my mouth. My head immediately turning to make sure Nick was asleep still. Returning my eyes back to my phone, re-reading ‘Here’s your proof’ with the photo being his dick. Being fully unaware of how I was supposed to respond to that, I leave him on ooened trying to come up with something.

I glance down and notice that he’s now typing in our chat.

Matt: Speechless are we?

Y/N: I’ll be down in a second

Matt: That’s my good girl

Sitting up and taking the blankets off of me while trying to be as quiet as possible so I wouldn’t wake Nick up, I remember under my shirt that I’m not wearing a bra, and the shorts I was wearing could barely even qualify as shorts. Beyond nervous but knowing I’d hate myself if I let this opportunity slide, I tiptoe out of Nick’s room and before I could figure out what I was going to say I was in front of Matt’s bedroom door.

“Is your plan to just stand outside my door all night?” Matt asks, my eyes widening as he opens his door.

“I - uh no sorry” I stutter as my nerves continue to grow.

Matt nods his head in the direction of his bed and I make my way to it and sit down. Unsure of what I was supposed to do next, still shocked at how forward Matt is being.

“Not covering much with that outfit eh?” He smirks.

“Guess not” I shrug.

Matt now was standing in between my legs, his hand moving to tilt my head up so I was looking up at him.

“So pretty” He mumbles, his thumb stroking my cheek. “I think you’d look prettier with my dick in your mouth though”

“Yeah?” I reply, heat rising to my cheeks.

He nods in response, “Only if you’re comfortable”

Going to get on my knees, he stops me and connects our lips, his tongue against mine before he pulls away.

Now on my knees, he slides his sweats and boxers down. His dick smacking against his stomach as he did. My pussy now dripping just from the sight. Spitting onto my hand I begin stroking him slowly, a quiet groan coming from him as I did.

“Mouth” He demands.

Following his instructions I swirl my tongue around his tip, before slowly taking as much of him as I could into my mouth.

“Fuck there you go” He groans, as he pulls on my hair.

I continue bobbing my head up and down, using my hand for what couldn’t fit into my mouth. Already gagging from how big he was.

“Take it all in your mouth, I know you can pretty girl” Matt says.

Slightly doubting I’d actually be able to, I pushed my head further down on his dick, a low groan leaving his mouth as I did, his hand pushing a bit on the back of my head.

“Fuck yeah, there you go just like that” He groans.

Tears fall from my eyes as I continue sucking him off. His dick hitting the back of my throat each time I went back down. Before I could process it, Matt had taken his dick out of my mouth and pulled me up and laid me down on the bed.

“As much as I would’ve loved to watch you swallow my come, I’d rather fill you up with it” He smirks, his hand trailing down to the bottom of my shorts, “Can I take them off?”

“Yes Matt just touch me please” I beg, my pussy aching for any form of touch from him.

I watch as he removes my shorts, smirking before looking up to me, “You’re soaked”

“Matt” I whine, my hips thrusting upwards, my patience running thin.

He plays with the band of my panties, pulling them away from my skin before letting them snap back, a yelp escaping from my mouth as he did. Looping his fingers underneath the band, in one swift motions he has then pulled off. His mouth immediately connecting to my core. A moan effortlessly falls from my mouth as licked a single stripe up to my clit, his tongue flattening to cover as much of my pussy as possible.

Matt continues his motions, humming against me and mumbling how sweet I taste.

“I need you” I whimper, my hands pulling on his hair, my back still arched from his actions.

“Yeah? Want me deep inside of you” He asks.

“Please Matt” I reply.

Lifting himself up and aligning himself up with my entrance, he begins pushing himself into me, a quiet whimper leaving my mouth as he did as my walls stretched.

“You can take all of it baby, just breathe” He replies, his grip tightening on my waist the further he went inside of me, “There ya go, good girl”

“Fuck” I moan, the slight pain disappearing and my body taken over by ecstasy.

“So fucking tight” Matt groans out, his head tilted back slightly, his jaw agape.

“Matt - fuck harder” I whimper.

“You sure pretty girl?” He questions.

“Yes god please” I beg, desperate to feel him deeper inside of me.

I feel his grip tighten on my waist before he picks up his pace, now slamming into me. My hands wrapped around his wrists and squeezing in an attempt to keep myself quiet. Matt removes one of his hands from my waist, bringing it so his thumb was now circling my clit.

“Take me so well” He says.

“Holy fuck don’t stop oh my god” I moan, him deep inside of me paired with his motions on my clit causing the knot in my stomach to grow tighter, “Matt I’m gonna come”

“Come on then, show me how much of a good girl you are and come all over my dick” He groans.

As my climax hits my eyes clench shut, my head tossed back as pleasure radiating through my body, Matt’s name effortlessly falling from my mouth.

“There you go, breathe through it yeah? Fuck you look so good” Matt says, his pace not slowing.

“I - holy fuck” I say, my pleasure still lingering as he slammed into me.

“You gonna let me fill you up pretty girl?” He asks.

I nod in response before he shakes his head and speaks again, “I need to hear you say it”

“Yes fuck fill me up please Matt” I whine out, my sensitivity growing the longer he continued.

I feel his dick twitch inside of me before his breathing becomes heavier, his jaw clenching and his head being thrown back.

“God you feel so good” He mumbles, struggling to speak through his high.

I watch as Matt slows his pace, him letting out small groan as he pulled himself out of me, before letting himself lay on top of me.

“That was -“ I begin.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” He says.

“What? Really?” I ask.

“Mhm” He mumbles, “Feels like I waited a life time”

“Should have made a move sooner” I say laughing slightly.

“Yeah yeah I know - wait fuck who’s that?” He says, his eyes widening as we both listen to the footsteps that continue to get closer to his room.

Without warning the door busts open, revealing Nick on the other side, him immediately covering his eyes.

“Jesus Christ the second I noticed you weren’t in my room I knew exactly where you were” He almost yelled, “God you guys are disgusting, Y/N you’re still my cuddle buddy so get your ass up and back to my room - wait clean yourself first I don’t want any of that shit in my bed”

TAGLIST: @sturnphilia @thatonekid536 @cupidsword @loveesiren @daddyslilchickenfingers @christinarowie332 @ilovemattsturn @its-jennarose @lovingsturniolo @iwantmattsobad @secret-sturniolo @soursturniolo @knowingnothingnoel @mwah0mwah @urmyslxt

[copper-16]

First Meetings

Elena attends her first football youth team camp, and meets someone who, though she doesn’t realize it at the time, will become a very important person in her life.

(a/n: I must admit this is probably one my more favorite Elena stories I’ve written, so if anyone has anymore ideas that involve older Elena and this new OC we meet here you’d be my new best friend cause I wanna write more about them 🥹)

The first national team camp Elena was ever invited to was when she was only fourteen years old. The call had been to Ingrid, who was then immediately turning to Mapi with a huge smile on her face. 

Partly because it was their daughters first call up, and partly because it had been Norway who had come knocking on her door. 

Mapi and Ingrid would always argue (playfully, most of the time), about which country their daughter would represent, should she choose the path of becoming a professional athlete. 

And while it didn’t matter in the end, for their daughter chose instead to become a doctor as opposed to an athlete, she did spend a good bit of her youth playing both football and handball, very competitively. 

She had been in La Masia, and showed great promise as a future defender, so it really wasn’t much of a surprise to anyone involved when Elena was selected for Norway’s U16 camp, despite the fact that she was only fourteen. 

And though both Ingrid and Mapi were excited (once a certain Spaniard got over being butthurt that it wasn’t Spain who had come calling), they left the ultimate decision up to Elena on whether or not she wanted to go. 

“Mi sol, at the end of the day the choice is yours. You are allowed to do whatever you would like, your Mama and I would always support that,” Mapi reassured gently, and Elena nodded her head slowly, but she still looked rather unsure. 

“Thank you Mami, I appreciate it, I really do. I just…is there any way I could have a minute before I decide?” The teenager asked gently, and her mother nodded easily. 

“Take all the time you need, there is no rush,” Mapi promised, squeezing her daughter's shoulder gently before the girl slipped away. But instead of heading for her room as the Spaniard expected her to, she headed for the balcony instead.

Elena pulled out her phone carefully from her pocket as she shut the door behind her, staring at it for a few moments before clicking open to her contacts. She hit dial before holding it up to her ear, listening to the line ring before it clicked, signifying that her godmother had picked up the phone

“Elena, pequeña! What have I done to deserve a phone call from my favorite goddaughter?” Alexia practically yelled into the phone, not exactly helping the argument that she ‘wasn’t old’ and ‘understood technology completely.’ The girl rolled her eyes at her godmother's antics, even if she knew to expect them. 

“Tia, I am your ONLY goddaughter,” Elena reminded her, but there was a smile on her face regardless.

“Ah semantics semantics! What is up pequeña, how are you?” Alexia asked, her voice a little more soft and gentle now. It wasn’t exactly a common occurrence for the green eyed girl to call the blonde like this out of the blue, so the former Barcelona captain made sure to seem extra attentive. 

“Oh I’m good,” Elena said carefully, before she went quiet. Alexia didn’t respond, sensing that there was more the younger girl wanted to say. 

“I got invited to a U16 camp, with Norway,” she finally forced out quietly, bracing herself for the former Barcelona captain to gasp, to scream, to get all excited. She had been preparing herself for Alexia to lose her mind, to be so excited that she wouldn’t even listen to Elena’s concerns. 

But it never came. 

“You don’t sound excited pequeña,” Alexia commented lightly, her tone filled with more protectiveness than excitement, and no judgment whatsoever. As much as Alexia wanted her goddaughter to be a footballer, same as her mothers, she cared far more about her well-being than anything else as trivial as her career. 

Elena sighed, fiddling with the hem of her shirt as she tried to organize her thoughts appropriately, in a way that was understandable. 

“I am excited, but I’m also…I don’t know. I’m not even sure if I want to be a footballer, is it silly of me to consider even going?” Elena asked, her insecurity poking through in her tone.

“Oh course you can still go, even if you are not sure. There is no requirement, it is not a contract that states that if you go now, you are obligated to become a footballer,” Alexia reminded gently. Her words were soft, and Elena clung to how secure her tone was, as though she held all of the answers to every problem the teenager had ever had. 

It was one thing for her mothers to tell her, but for Alexia to? It was somehow better, hearing it from her mouth. As biased as Alexia was, because she loved her, she had always been honest with Elena too. 

“Yes but…well there are people like you who are or were SO sure of what they want to do, and would I be taking up someone else’s spot by committing when I’m not even sure football is what I want to do? I love it, I know I do, but I’m just not sure that it’s what I want for the rest of my life,” Elena explained, and it was not a new thought in her mind but it was still hard to say, because she’d never spoken the thought aloud to someone. Not even her mothers, who were inside the living room trying very hard to pretend like they weren’t eavesdropping on the entire conversation. 

Mapi was practically sitting on Ingrid’s lap, she was leaning so far over her wife as she angled her body and ears toward the balcony, even if she couldn’t hear much with the door being closed.  

“Elena, for as many people who are sure, there are a hundred more who are not. You are fourteen, you are not supposed to have everything figured out right now. Look at people like Salma, she couldn’t decide until she was practically eighty years old what sport she wanted to do!” Alexia exclaimed, and even though Salma had picked her sport at nineteen and not eighty, it still managed to elicit a small laugh from her goddaughter. 

“You deserve to be there, that is why they called you up! This is a chance for you to go and see if you like it. That’s what youth team camps are all about,” Alexia insisted, and there was a pause on the line before the teenager spoke again.

“But also…what if they don’t like me Alexia? What if I am not Norwegian enough for them, or not good enough at football, or I’m weird and young and I don’t make any friends?” Elena said all in a rush, dumping out the bucket of her worries to be sifted through by her ever loving godmother. 

“Oh Elena. They are going to LOVE you, because you are kind and considerate and compassionate. The rest of it isn’t important, you just need to go in there and be kind and you will make friends, I promise. And hey, who knows, some of the girls there might be international as well! Some of your mothers old teammates have children, many of whom were all raised in different countries,” Alexia rattled patiently, remembering acutely how worried she had been when she had begun to be called up to national team camps. She tries her hardest to tell Elena what she needed to be told when she was a young girl, with nobody to give her this advice first hand. 

“I remember when I was younger, god I was a disaster at youth team camps! I was so awkward and shy, but the girls were still always so nice and welcoming, I didn’t have much time to feel self conscious about it,” the midfielder remembered fondly, chuckling to herself as she thought back on the memory. 

Oh, if only I had managed to grow out of my social anxiety as I got older, she thought wryly, before focusing back on the conversation. 

“And hey, at the worst? It’s only two weeks. Two weeks of just giving it a try, and then at least you can say that you did it. If you don’t like it, nobody will force you to go back,” Alexia promised.

“And you’d still…still be proud of me? Even if I hated it and never wanted to play football again because it was so terrible?” Elena asked quietly, her voice soft.

“Elena, I would be proud of you if you went on to win the Ballon d’Or, or if you never touched a football again in your entire life. I will always be proud of you, no matter what you do. But for the record, I don’t think it’s going to be that bad, but even if it went terribly, I will still love you,” Alexia insisted, and it’s the truth. Years later, when Elena graduates from medical school, it will be Alexia who skips the Ballon d’Or ceremony that she had been invited to present at, in order to sit in the front row with Mapi and Ingrid’s family, screaming when her goddaughter walked across the stage to receive her degree. 

But for now, she is content to love the teenager in whatever way she needs, including when she is just trying to figure out what she wants to do in life. 

“Thank you Alexia. I love you,” Elena whispered, her throat suddenly tight with how grateful she is to have her godmother in her life. 

To the rest of the world, Alexia might be the terrifying former Barcelona captain, one of the best players of their generation, but to Elena? She had always been the woman whose face lit up when she walked in the room, the woman who adored spending time with her and reading stories and gave her the best hugs. 

“I love you too pequeña, always,” Alexia insists, wishing her goddaughter goodnight before they hung up the phone. 

With a renewed sense of sureness, Elena marched back inside with determination and right over to where her mothers were sitting together on the couch, pressed up against one another as they tried to pretend that they weren’t entirely focused on the balcony. 

The dark haired teenager raised her eyebrow slightly at the upside down crossword Mapi was pretending to complete and the fact that Ingrid was staring at her wife like she was trying to memorize the silhouette of her face despite the fact that they spent every single day together. She knew they were just doing their best, and that they were both far too nosy for their own good. 

“I would like to go to the youth camp,” she declared, and both Ingrid and Mapi smiled brightly at their daughter as they nodded their agreement, happy to see that she was so sure of herself. 

—

Ingrid had flown out to Oslo with Elena, but she only stayed long enough to drop her off at the hotel and check her in with the staff members. The players were going directly to training, where parents really weren’t supposed to go, and Ingrid hadn’t really planned to spend a whole ton of time around unless Elena needed her to, for some reason.  

It wasn’t the first time Elena had said goodbye to her mother before they separated for something like this, but it did feel weird to know that she wouldn’t see either of her parents for a whole two weeks. 

She clings to the Norwegian for a hair too long, her grip tighter than it’s been in awhile. She feels young again, much younger than she actually is. Luckily, Ingrid’s love is readily available, and she doesn’t comment on her daughter's slightly desperate grip. 

“You’re going to be just fine, Elena. I love you, you call me if you need anything okay? Your Mami and I will call you once a day at least but if you need us more than that we are only a phone call away. And we can always hop on a flight if you need us!” Ingrid rambled, knowing that when she stopped talking she would have to leave. 

“I will be okay Mama. I’ll be sure to call you and Mami a lot to tell you about everything. I love you!” Elena called out as she finally forced herself away, leaving with one of the trainers to get settled in her hotel room before training commenced in a bit. 

She got her stuff settled in the room, noticing that another girl had already placed her luggage on the opposite side of the room. The green eyed girl wondered briefly who her roommate would be, but she didn’t have much time to think on it when someone came to get her for training. 

She was one of the last to arrive, and therefore by the time she had arrived out to the pitch, all of the girls were starting to warm up. 

Most of the girls are older than she is, standing in groups as they all laughed and chatted in a variety of languages. Elena was generally a pretty outgoing person in most circumstances, but this admittedly made her more nervous than usual. 

A lot of the girls seemed to already have groups of friends, and seemed older than her. It felt awkward to go up and introduce herself to these random people who already had a set friend group. 

She could see Frida and Emma’s daughter Kajsa in a group with a few other girls. Her mother had told her that Kajsa would be there, but the two didn’t know one another, because Kajsa was nearly two years older than she was. 

She noticed a few of the girls were standing by themselves off to the side, and she surveyed them quickly to determine who to walk up to. Most of them looked pretty focused, staring intently at the ball they were working with, clearly deep within their thoughts. 

She clocked Valeria, Marta and Caro’s daughter, but the look on her face is dark and filled with a determination that offsets Elena from feeling willing to go up to her. 

When she turned to her right, there was a girl who looked to be a little younger than the rest, much like herself, who was juggling the ball off to the side of the group. She had light brown, almost mousy hair, and unlike the other girls who were by themselves, she had a bright smile as she looked down at the ball. 

She actually looked like she was having fun, and Elena isn’t entirely sure what makes her feet start moving, but all the sudden she’s standing right in front of her, clearing her throat and greeting the girl. 

“Hi,” Elena said softly as she walked over, a wash of nerves. The girl looked up at her in surprise, her mouth forming a little “o” as she stared back at the other girl. The ball fell listlessly at her feet, and she offered a slightly shy smile of her own back. 

“Hey,” she replied, her voice soft and calm. She seemed quite nervous, her outward behavior a direct reflection of what Elena was feeling on the inside. 

“I’m Elena,” the teenager introduced, and the girl seemed to perk up slightly. She seemed very shy, and if there was one thing the green eyed girl was good at, it was getting introverts out of their shell. 

“My name is Kaia,” she echoed Elena’s greeting, and the Barcelona native couldn’t help the grin that broke out onto her face at the flush that was peaking through Kaia’s cheeks. 

The taller girl's accent was strange, no matter what language she spoke. Her Norwegian was accented, and so was her English, and Elena couldn’t put her finger on it until they were hanging out in their room later that night. 

The two had been selected to room together for the two weeks, so it really was serendipitous that Elena had chosen to go up to Kaia as opposed to any of the other girls who were by themselves. 

They were sitting in their respective beds in their hotel room later that night, when the taller girl turned toward Elena with an air of nerves around her. 

“Is it okay if I call my mums?” She asked, and the Spanish Norwegian immediately furrowed her brows. Kaia clearly takes it as being more malicious and less as the confusion it really is, as the dark haired girl tried to figure out if what she had said was the truth. Kaia had experienced plenty of teasing in her youth from her peers about her two mothers, and she immediately draws back in on herself as a result. 

“Yeah I…I have two mums,” she said softly, but the confusion shifted to her when Elena smiled brightly at her sentence. 

“Me too!” She exclaimed, and Kaia’s mouth flopped open, her reservations fleeing her with the drop of a hat practically. 

“Really?!” The taller girl asked in amazement, her whole face lighting up in relief. She didn’t often meet many others who could say this. 

“Yeah, I do! They used to play on the same football team together, that’s where they met,” Elena explained, and once again Kaia looked at her new friend in complete surprise. 

“That’s exactly what happened with my mums too! Do you want to meet them?” Kaia asked earnestly, and Elena nodded before she bounded over to the other bed, stuffing her smaller body close next to Kaia’s as the girl FaceTimed her mothers. 

“Hello darling!” Elena recognized Fran Kirby by both her appearance and accent in half a second, understanding settling over her. She remembered her mother telling her that Maren and Fran had a daughter her age, but she didn’t know that Kaia would be here. 

Suddenly, Kaia’s English accented Norwegian, and Norwegian accented English were starting to make sense. The accents made sense when she could place exactly where they had come from. 

“Mum, this is my friend Elena,” Kaia introduced, and the dark haired girl watched in amusement as Maren poked her head into the camera frame as well, a big smile on her face. 

“You’re Ingrid and Mapi’s daughter, right?” Maren asked kindly, and Elena nodded eagerly, waving hello to the older woman she had met several times. 

“You guys have met each other before, but only when you were babies!” Fran recalled, a statement Maren agreed with readily. 

Ingrid is equally as excited about Elena’s befriending of Kaia when they call her and Mapi right after, the two girls regaling their day at training in long detail.

Okay, it’s a lot of Elena talking in long tangents as Kaia listens patiently, adding in a few details here and there. But the older girl seems completely content to listen to Elena speak, capturing every small detail and little moment. 

For the two weeks they are at camp, the fourteen and fifteen year old are entirely inseparable. They eat together, train together, and when one of them gets lonely, they crawl into the other's bed to hang out and talk far past when they were supposed to go to bed (neither of them are aware that when they are older, they’ll spend every single night like that, together). 

Kaia followed Elena around almost like a lost puppy, and the dark haired girl happily drug her everywhere she went. It was easy for Elena to pull Kaia out of her shell, natural really, and they clearly fit together really well. 

It’s clear to anyone with eyeballs that Kaia has a crush on Elena, but neither of them are quite old enough to pick up on it. All they know is that they both loved spending time with one another, although neither of them realized just how much until later in life. 

But as relationships usually are when you are young, when the two girls leave camp, despite having exchanged phone numbers, they fall out of touch with one another. Kaia lives in England, and Elena still lives in Barcelona, and the opportunities for them to see one another in person are rare. 

They still follow one another through social media, and the occasional texting conversation. When Kaia gets her first Lioness call up at just 17, Elena is one of the first people to text her congratulations. And when Elena graduates primary school, Kaia of course texts her to congratulate her as well, thrilled for her friend. 

But nothing feels quite the same as when they were younger, and Elena tried to accept that. She tried to move on, unsure of why she was so stuck on some two week friendship that, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t really have meant anything. 

Or would it? 

Luckily, their distance wasn’t something she’d have to accept for forever. 

—

Elena had just gotten out of one of her university classes when she felt her phone buzzing in her pocket, and she reached down to fish it out. 

The dark haired girl couldn’t stop the shock she felt traveling through her when she saw the name on her phone, and the contact pictured attached, signaling who was calling her. 

It was an old photo, one from four years ago in fact, and it felt like a time capsule, pulling the green eyed girl back to a time of football camps and giggling under the covers with one of the funniest people she had ever met. A time of spending two weeks attached at the hip with a shy girl who blushed when she held her hand to drag her toward the gym, who always passed her the ball even though she clearly wasn’t the best player at camp. 

She stared at Kaia’s picture for so long she almost forgot to accept the phone call, and she scrambled to do so before the ringing ceased. 

“Kaia?” She asks into her phone almost breathlessly, despite the fact that she’s standing still. Her heart is pounding in her chest, and she’s not entirely sure why. Her and Kaia haven’t spoken really since they were fourteen and fifteen, and they were eighteen and nineteen now. 

It was too long for her reaction to be this visceral, but it still is, for some reason. She can’t explain it, she doesn’t want it to ever go away, though. 

“Hi Elena,” Kaia says softly, and her voice is lower and more mature, but it’s still Kaia. It warms Elena’s heart immensely, and she smiles despite the fact that the English footballer can’t see her. 

“How are you?” The dark haired girl asked, genuinely curious. She could have picked up the phone and called, she knew that, but for some reason she hadn’t. 

It felt even more strange for Kaia to be calling. Shy, quiet, sometimes awkward Kaia, who sometimes people thought was mean, but Elena knew it was really just that she spent far too much time in her own head. 

Although, she didn’t look all that awkward when she was on a football pitch, scoring goals like she was born to be a nine. She was brilliant, if a bit inexperienced. 

“I’m, I’m good. Really good actually. But I, well, I need your help with something,” Kaia explained quickly, and Elena raised her brow but asked what the striker needed all the same. 

“You spent last summer in Sweden right?” Kaia asked, and when Elena confirmed it, she continued. The green eyed girl had gone to spend the summer with Frido, and even Ingrid and Mapi had come for a few weeks on holiday as well.  “I’m going on loan to Hammarby for the season to get some more experience, and I was hoping you had any some tips on how to get around, or your favorite spots. Or any of the slang they’re using nowadays, it’s been an embarrassingly long amount of time since I’ve been back to Norway, and the only Norwegian I’m speaking nowadays is with Mom,” she revealed, and Elena felt her heart flutter in her chest. 

If she were thinking about it logically, it would be a little suspicious. Plenty of the girls who they played with in the youth teams were actually playing in Sweden, and probably knew much better than Elena did from just a summer spent with Frido in the countryside. 

And there was always the fact that her mother probably knew dozens of Swedes, who again would know better than the Barcelona based Spaniard. 

But she doesn’t care, because Kaia is calling her, and suddenly she has an excuse to talk to the girl who she’s been unable to get out of her head for years. She hadn’t realized until an embarrassingly long amount of time after the fact that it was a crush she had on Kaia back then, but as soon as she had realized she had been unable to let that go. 

Would things have been different, if they had stayed in touch afterward? She wasn’t entirely sure, but it didn’t matter. Maybe they could be friends now, if nothing else. 

Even if it isn’t going to turn into anything, she’d rather have a tiny bit of Kaia than nothing at all. She doubted Kaia would ever feel the same about her, and how could she? Sweet, brilliant, talented, soon to be famous Kaia, who would never fall for the university student who had little interest in the fame and money that football wanted. 

(Oh, if only she knew that Kaia wanted every single part of her, wholly, completely. She always had, even when they were kids.) 

—

Elena rolled over in her sleep, and unlike usual, there was an object blocking her from doing so fully. 

An object that smelled like jasmine and everything safe in the world, and the dark haired woman instantly turned to burrow into it, clinging tightly to the woman in her bed. 

Strong arms pulled her in tightly, and she blinked her eyes open sleepily to find that Kaia was smiling down at her, before the hazel eyed woman held her face gently in her hands, leaning forward to press a resounding kiss to her forehead. 

“Good morning,” she said softly, before she moved to bring Elena further into her, pressing their bodies together as she had longed to do for what felt like years. The smaller woman allowed her body to be moved easily, wrapping her own arms around Kaia and holding her close.

“You weren’t supposed to get in until later today?” She says in lieu of a greeting, her voice raspy and soft as she allows herself to stay nestled against her girlfriend. It's been over a month since they last saw one another, with their respective busy schedules. 

“I took an earlier flight. I wanted to see you sooner,” Kaia admits sheepishly, her nose twinging with pink as it gives away how clearly besotted she is. Elena’s eyebrows furrowed adorably in confusion as she leaned back to look her girlfriend in the eye, and the brunette reached forward to press her thumb to the space between her eyebrows and smoothing the crease, just because she could. 

“I was asleep! That can’t be exciting enough to move your flight to get in at seven in the morning,” She protested as she looked over at the clock with a wince at how early the time was, but Kaia just let out a small laugh. 

“I firmly disagree, you are completely adorable when you are asleep, and you get all clingy in the mornings. I couldn’t stand to miss another morning of it if I didn’t have to,” Kaia argues good naturedly, and Elena smiles before she presses forward, finally kissing her girlfriend for real. She loved this version of Kaia, the one that was all soft and giggly and gentle. 

It was the version of her that only existed for the green eyed woman, and nobody else. And as much as Elena loved seeing her girlfriend score buckets of goals on the pitch, this would always be her favorite version of the woman. 

“You don’t have to miss it anymore,” the Barcelona native whispered against her lips with excitement, and could feel the curve of Kaia’s own lips as she echoed the dark haired woman’s smile. 

“Not anymore, no. I’m going in at two today to sign the contract and take photos, so you need to help me with my hair and makeup,” Kaia explained, and Elena let out a sigh of relief as she nodded, more than willing to do so. 

After her one year loan spell at Hammarby, Kaia had returned back to Chelsea until she was twenty two years old, when she had made a move to Atletico Madrid for a year. All the while, she and Elena had never lost touch after that initial phone call about Kaia’s ‘Swedish questions.’

While she was at Hammarby, Elena had come to visit her several times (as much as her school schedule allowed), and the more time they had spent together the more the two had realized that what they had went far beyond the bounds of a normal friendship. By the time Kaia was set to go back to Chelsea after her loan, the two had begun dating. 

Elena’s six year medical school program was in Barcelona, and when Kaia went to move clubs to Spain when she was 22, the only offer closer than England had been for Atletico Madrid. The couple had figured that it was better than nothing, and Elena had argued that it would give the Barcelona staff a chance to see how brilliant the English player was. 

And sure enough, she was right, because it was not more than a few months into her contract that they reached out, asking to sign the Lioness after the expiration of her one year contract with Atletico Madrid. 

All of which led them to today, after nearly five years of dating, when Kaia signed her first Barcelona contract, which would keep her in Catalonia for the next four years. 

“I love you so much,” Elena murmured as she tucked herself back into the striker, allowing herself to collapse into the sturdy arms that are wrapped around her. 

The brunette deposited a resounding kiss to the crown of her girlfriends head, cuddling closer to Elena and relishing in the closeness that they never seemed to be able to get enough of. 

And while they don’t know it at the time, they’ll never have to be without one another for the rest of their lives, luckily.

[ranhaitanisgf]

hi! could i request headcanons or oneshot (either is okay) for bonten timeline sanzu haruchiyo with an excitable, extroverted reader? thank you so much, and no worries if not! (+ also your theme still says rqs are closed, but i saw you posted them being open two hrs ago :3)

pay attention to me!!

synopsis: how would bonten haruchiyo act w/ an excited & extroverted s/o?

☆ a/n ˎˊ˗ idk if yall can tell but ive never written for mr haru lawl ... also !! i added a little mini oneshot cause i couldn't help myself :3 thank you so much for requesting !! this was so cute to write !! i hope everyone enjoysss xoxo

☆ characters ˎˊ˗ sanzu (akashi) haurchiyo x g/n!reader

☆ wc ˎˊ˗ 2.7k+

masterlist

❥ sanzu thinks you’re annoying at first. 

❥ he doesn’t notice at all when you first move into his apartment building; he doesn’t take much care in noticing small things like that if it didn’t relate to bonten. his work and mikey were the only important things to him, so when he hears excited squealing seeping through his walls one day, he thinks that his neighbor has a kid, (which quite frankly annoyed him, but he decided he didn’t care enough to do anything about it). 

❥ there was no estimated time as to when he would get home--ranging anywhere from 6pm to 4am--so it takes at least a month or two for him to meet you officially. coincidentally, he had been going out to grab a drink from the convenience store when you were excitedly jumping around outside your door, a delivery package in your hands. 

“oh! omg, are you sanzu-san?!” “...hah? who’re you?” “oh my gosh, i’ve been knocking on your door everyday for the past month, but you never seemed to be home! i never got to introduce myself to you! i’m (l/n) (y/n)! i moved in not that long ago, so i wanted to get to know my neighbors!”  “‘kay. bye.” 

❥ the only thing he wants to do is get away from you; he doesn’t want to be bothered with civilians, much less someone as annoying as you seemed to be. seriously, why were you talking so loud?!

❥ much to his displeasure, you followed him all the way to the convenience store, talking his ear off about the most meaningless things he’s ever heard of in his life, (how does somebody talking about nothing for so long?!) as he purchases his drinks and walks back to the apartment building. it takes everything in him not to snap at you; if he did, he would probably wake up all the neighbors from raising his voice, which wouldn’t be ideal since this was already his fifth apartment in the last six months. 

❥ he’s unsure how you possibly couldn’t get a hint that he didn’t want to be bothered, especially after he only said a maximum of ten words to you in the whole thirty minutes you were following him around, (are you really that clueless? is this what loneliness does to people?). it does take him by surprise that you aren’t scared of him though; you’d shown absolutely no sign of apprehension despite the scars around his mouth, which he supposes shows a bit of good character from you. not that he really cares. 

❥ he’s more than happy to shut the door on your face when he gets back to his apartment, finally indulging in the peace and quiet of his apartment, (he doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy to hear nothing). right when he’s opening his bottle of sake, he hears squealing through the walls. when you start monologuing about whatever you’d received in the mail, he just decides to quit and go to bed. 

❥ sanzu isn’t sure how, but you have somehow made it your routine to follow him places whenever you ran into him. he also isn’t sure why he continuously allows you to tag along with him, but as long as it doesn’t affect his work, he doesn’t really care. 

❥ you’re always talking about something; the weather, your coworker’s strange behavior the other day, or the stray cat you saw in the alleyway that ran away. there are times when he tunes out your talking and uses it as white noise, but you never seemed to get upset at the fact that he visibly is zoning out. 

❥ after a while, he gets used to your constant presence around him, so much so that he finds it strange to not hear your excited yammering while he’s at work, (although he supposes he wouldn’t want to have that constantly in his ear while he’s doing ‘business’ with someone). 

❥ the one thing that gets the attention of the rest of the bonten executives is when he suddenly stops going to the clubs, leaving whatever work he had there for during the day when it was barren. it was such a drastic change in behavior; sure, sanzu was never the type to be obsessed with the scantily dressed girls in the club, but he was known for taking some home every once in a while. at the very least, he was known for getting various types of substances from sketchy dealers who frequently attended. what’s even stranger to everyone is the fact that he slowly starts to engage in less substances, (though he still does every once in a while) which is what rings the alarm bells. 

“oi, sanzu.” “what do you want, ran? i’m fuckin’ busy.”  “well, it can wait. the fuck’s been up with you lately? you’ve been acting weird as shit.” “so?”  “so, what the hell’s been up with you?” “none of your goddamn business, that’s what.”  “woahh, easy there, man. seriously, somethin’ bothering you?”  “i said it’s nothing, so drop it.”

❥ by the time he realizes what he’s been doing, it’s too late for him. you and your talkative self have wiggled their way into his heart, setting up camp to stay for a while. he had a glimpse of a thought of it when ran was confronting him, but he immediately pushed it out of his mind because how could that possibly be true? 

❥ it can’t be true, even if he unwillingly likes to think about it now. he can’t let himself think about it; you were one of the most strange yet innocent and pure people he’s ever met, so how could he willingly taint you with someone like himself? no, he wouldn’t let it happen.

❥ and just like that, everything seems to be back to normal for him. he goes to the club even more than he did before, and the amount of substances he uses seems to increase exponentially by the week. he begins to sleep on the couch in his dingy office instead of going home so that he doesn’t run into you, only going home for the bare essentials every couple days, (and even then, he leaves after just a few minutes). 

❥ it’s just his luck that he gets out of his car the moment you turn the corner onto the apartment building’s block, seeing him in plain sight as he freezes for a moment. and then he unfreezes because 1.) why is he of all people scared to run into you? he’s a bonten executive, he’s killed people before, so why was his heart beating so fast right now? and 2.) he needs to get away from there. right now. 

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

“hey!! not so fast, haruchiyo!!” you shout, your steps hastening as you try to catch up with him. sanzu can hear your steps behind him, but his long legs give him the advantage as he quickly ducks into the apartment building, smashing the elevator button and tapping his foot as it decides to be as slow as it possibly can be. 

he lets out a ‘tsk!’ sound when he notices you enter the building, promptly looking away from you and looking cooly at the blinker indicating what level the elevator was on, (can this thing move faster?!). 

“stop ignoring me!! where have you been?!” you questioned, your voice a mix of worry and anger. “i’ve been knocking on your door everyday with no response!! i know you don’t particularly like me, but you’re the only person who doesn’t walk away from me, so could you at least give me a reason that you suddenly started avoiding me?!” 

“...’m not avoiding you.” sanzu doesn’t know what to do right now; he’s never seen you angry like this before. typically, he would care less about the feelings of some random person like you, but for some reason the hurt in your voice makes him unusually unsure of himself. 

you scoffed at his lame excuse, rolling your eyes. 

“look! you’re trying to avoid me right now with elevator! seriously, can you just tell me what i did? i won’t do it again, i swear! just stop avoiding me!” 

“fuck, it’s not you!” sanzu suddenly said, his voice strained. “i’m just busy, okay?! you’re better off being friends with someone else.” 

“but you’re already my friend!! why don’t you want to keep talking to me??” sanzu ignored your words, his gaze staring straight ahead at the doors of the elevator, his stare so intense that you could almost think he was trying to open it telepathically. “hey!! can you just answer the damn question already, haruchiyo?!” 

“why do you need to know so fuckin’ badly?! i just said i’m busy!!” 

“because! i like you!” you yelled, your eyes seeming to get a bit watery. “and i know you don’t like me and that’s fine but i just want to be able to talk to you and see you sometimes, but now you’re always gone and i don’t know when you’re going to come back and it scares me! i just-” 

sanzu cut off your words, promptly stepping in front of you and slipping his hand behind your head, slamming his lips into yours. he’s not even sure himself why he did something stupid like this, especially when the whole reason he was avoiding you was because of his own flaws, but he couldn’t help himself when he heard you being so cute and worried over him, (seriously, how was he supposed to resist something like that?). 

it obviously took you off guard at first, but sanzu made sure you quickly realized what was going on, his mouth desperately pressing against yours. his kiss was rough but passionate, his lips moving quickly against yours as he pulled you closer to him, his other hand sliding around you to rest on the small of your back, (he’s doing it purely out of instinct; he hasn’t really thought about how he had been avoiding you for this very reason). 

a small ding! from the elevator grabs your attention, making you push him off of you as someone comes out from the elevator, glancing at the two of you a bit suspiciously before walking out of the building, leaving both of you in silence. 

“uh…wanna go to the convenience store for snacks…?”

˗ˏˋ𖤐ˎˊ˗

❥ it took a little bit for sanzu to open up to you about anything even a little bit, but once he did, you were able to figure him out pretty quickly, especially when he’d finally decided to be truthful about his actual profession, (bro does not work an office 9-5). due to all of this, it’s easy to tell that sanzu has a lot of issues, but it wasn’t something that you weren’t willing to work through with him!

❥ the two of you are the definition of black cat and golden retriever! you are always excited about everything and are taking him to all the cool and trendy places on dates while he is more quiet, keeping close to your side and watching everything with a careful eye, (especially people he defines as creeps, i.e. people who look at you for more than 0.2 seconds). 

❥ date wise, he is usually following your lead. he doesn’t have the slightest clue about what you think it romantic, so it will usually be you planning outings for the two of you. a lot of times he will complain about being tired and not wanting to go out, but don’t worry, he’s completely lying; he just thinks it’s cute when you whine and pull his arm asking him to come out with you. 

❥ despite the fact that he is not the most romantic guy, he does a lot of romantic things without realizing. he enjoys sending you your favorite flowers when you’re at work or staying at home while he’s at work, sending cute little notes along with them, (well, you think they are pretty cute). 

i think you like these ones. -h be ready by seven. wear something you feel good in. -h sorry i didn’t buy milk. there’s frozen waffles in the freezer. -h

❥ sanzu does a lot of those little things for you too; opening doors for you, pulling chairs out for you, taking things out of your hands when you’re carrying a lot, etc. it doesn’t seem like he’s the type to do things like this, but it’s because he isn’t the type to do it. he only does it for you, and he himself doesn’t even know why he does these things, (he’s head over heels in love with you, but in no universe will he ever actually admit that). 

❥ the most protective over you, and a little possessive too. he doesn’t control everything that you do, but he likes to have a clear-cut plan of everything you do on a normal day so that his mind is put at ease, (also so he can known when something is wrong). he won’t tell you this, but he has someone assigned to keeping an eye on your as you go about your day because he’s extremely paranoid that somebody from an opposing gang will try and come after you. he would prefer if he could by your side himself, but it’s the next best option, (he still sends frequent texts and calls you throughout the day to make sure everything is well). 

❥ the possessive part of him comes out more when he thinks people are hitting on you, (they really are just being nice; he’s just a little bit crazy…he loves you though!!). he doesn’t hesitate to slide his long arms all around you, letting you continue talking while he makes a deadly eye contact with the person, his face twisted in mild disgust as if he were looking down at a cockroach, (he’s mastered this expression somehow). he knows that you enjoy talking with people so he won’t keep you from doing so, but in the process he will make sure that everybody knows you’re his. 

❥ sanzu’s not the most affectionate person there is, but he is affectionate when he wants to be. there are times when he’ll come home and not say a word, just wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his head in the crook of your neck, mumbling something about having a terrible day. really, he just becomes a big baby when he’s like that, laying his lanky limbs all over you and claiming that he’s ‘recharging’. 

❥ it’s hard to label sanzu as an extrovert/introvert, since it can really depend on what mood he’s in and the situation. he’s more of an introvert in public settings with other people, (he doesn’t know how to interact nicely with people he doesn’t know) but when he’s with a majority of people he knows, he turns into more of an extrovert which matches with your energy quite nicely. 

❥ unintentionally, there comes a time when you accidentally get to meet the rest of his coworkers. it happened when they were dropping him back off at home after a night at the club and you’d had to come get him from the car because of how inebriated he was. 

“woah, you’re (y/n), huh?”  “oh, yes! it’s nice to meet you! you all must work with haru, right? please continue to take good care of him! would you like to come inside for a snack or some water?”  “...dude, what the fuck.”  “how the hell did he bag someone like that?!” 

❥ safe to say, they are all extremely shocked, (they never would have thought that someone like sanzu would be dating someone as sweet and talkative as you). the next day when he gets into work, he’s immediately hounded with all types of questions surrounding you and how the two of you started to date. 

“holy shit, is that why you were acting crazy a few months ago?!”  “i wasn’t acting fuckin’ crazy?!” “sanzu, you’re the craziest person here, and you started acting normal!! that was crazy!!” 

❥ after that, he makes sure that his associates never get to see you again, (“hey, bring your pretty lil thing around sometime!”, “i would rather kill you right now.”).

[tiredfox64]

Hi! How are you? First of all, I love your way of writing, it's amazing! I wish I had that magic that you have. UwU <3 Can I ask you to write a Bi-Han x Chubby!Afab!Reader? Where the reader is Liu Kang's apprentice, but since he does not have time to train her, he takes her to Bi-Han and he mocks her for not seeming strong, but when they face each other, things change and for the first time Bi-Han meets He is attracted to her and wants her for himself. But the reader feels insecure, thinking that this was some kind of mockery. There can be a lot of fluff and a possessive Bi-Han. Please :3

Thick Thighs Can Change Lives

Prior notes: Hoi!! I’m doin fine just trying to finish the semester strong. How bout you? And thank you for liking my writing! (´・ω・｀)

Pairing: Bi-Han x Chubby! Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: KICK HIS ASS!!! AHHHH

It’s an honor to be an apprentice to Lord Liu Kang. He treats you well and always saw potential in you no matter what. Your body did not change the fact that you had a fighting spirit. There was strength in you that was hidden. Though others will doubt you they will eventually find out the truth that you are mighty.

If only Bi-Han saw that from the beginning.

You were unsure of Liu Kang’s decision to send you to the Lin Kuei for more training. He apologized profusely for not having enough time to do it himself. You understood since there were many others that he had to train. He trusted Bi-Han to take good care of you during your stay. If only the first interaction was good.

“This is the woman? Are you sure she is capable of fighting?” Bi-Han looked you up and down with a look of uncertainty.

“Trust me, Bi-Han. She is more than capable. There is a reason why she is my apprentice. Do not judge, lest ye be judged.” And he means it.

Bi-Han grumbled at Liu Kang’s response. He thinks the god is foolish for taking you in. You have proportions he hadn’t seen before on a warrior. He expects abs and flat stomachs, not chubby bellies. He circled you, checking you out from all angles and not in a good way. He pokes you to check for any muscles. You keep hearing a disappointed sigh.

“If this task is too hard for you, Bi-Han, I can always have the monks at the Wu Shi train her.”

Liu Kang’s words infuriated Bi-Han. He makes it sound like he can’t train you himself. That this task is impossible for a man like him. Forget it, he’ll take you in.

“No, I will take her in. She will be better than before. Come on.” He grabbed your hand and yanked you before you could even say goodbye to Liu Kang.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

There were many in the Lin Kuei who questioned their grandmaster’s decisions. You were not like them, that was evident.

He didn’t even work with you at first. After about two days you had to go up to him to ask if he was actually going to train you or not. Clearly it’s not that he’s into training other cause when you found him he was watching all the other Lin Kuei assassins train.

“Grandmaster, when are you going to train me? I thought that was the reason Lord Liu Kang brought me to you.” You reminded him of his purpose.

He groaned as he remembered that you were still here. If he’s going to train he will do it separate from the clan.

“Fine, come with me.”

You followed him to a secluded area of the temple. Your heart was pumping. You were excited to show that you are capable of anything but afraid of failing. Liu Kang’s words echoed in your head telling you to focus on your actions, not the outcome. Give it your best shot and kick his butt!

“Show me what you are capable of. I hope you can show me that you are a worth opponent.” He sounded like he already had little faith in you.

From the start of the fight you were already proving him wrong. You were blocking every attack. Bi-Han was going easy on you for now but seeing as you could at least defend yourself he was hoping you would attack soon.

Hell, you were even dodging his ice attacks. He couldn’t even freeze one of your legs in place. Looks like he was wrong to think that you would be an easier target to hit.

Throughout it all you watched as he grew more and more frustrated. He set the bar too low and seeing that he was wrong was the worst thing he could have expected. Though your special move was probably way worse than having his ego be tampered with.

You finally attacked him. A palm strike to the jaw caused him to fall back. Before he could comprehend what you just did and get himself up you were already above him. You pressed down on him which put one of his legs in an uncomfortable position. You pinned his arm down before swinging your right leg behind his head. With all your strength you managed to flip both of you before locking his head in with your legs. And there you have it, you got him in a triangle choke.

This was just humiliating for Bi-Han. He didn’t think it was possible to lose to you. You had him right when you wanted him. Your legs made him feel like he was being squeezed by a vicious anaconda. The more he struggled the more he lost his breath. It didn’t stop there oh no. You started bending his arm and leg that were trapped between you two. You bent them in directions that would be impossible to achieve unless you broke his bones. His free hand came and slapped your thigh. He tapped out. He couldn’t take it.

You unraveled your legs to set him free. You were panting a bit and felt a bit sweaty. But compared to how he was now you looked like you never even fought him.

“I’m sorry, grandmaster, if that was too much.” You apologized even though you didn’t need to.

Once you were back up on your feet you stuck your hand out to help Bi-Han up. He looked up at you, taking in all your details for once. Maybe he lost too much oxygen when you were chocking him because for some reason you seem so cute right now. Yet he was still upset from being beaten by you. He didn’t take your hand but got up himself and walked away. Not a word was said from him and you were left wondering if you did something wrong.

I can guarantee you didn’t do anything wrong. Bi-Han just needs time to think of where he went wrong and what kind of woman he is attracted to. Looks like he might have an unexpected type.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

No matter how many breaths of fresh air Bi-Han got his new stance on you didn’t change. He has enough oxygen going into his brain this new liking is not a delusion.

He was wrong but he won’t say it out loud. You have the strength of a warrior with a heart of gold. It was all hidden in that plush body of yours. What a fool he was to doubt you.

Now his eyes are always on you. Without the mindset of you being weak he sees now that there is much more to you.

Why didn’t he see it before! Just look at that cute face of yours, especially your cheeks. He wants to squish that face and not in a skull crushing way. And those legs good heavens! Those thighs could kill a man yet he would gladly put his face between them again. Your chest is a good alternative as well. He won’t deny he noticed that from the beginning but he would remind himself about it constantly. It just took him a while to realize the whole package was enticing. Screw it, let him get his hands on your tummy.

Look, Bi-Han likes his women strong. That’s one thing. But if chubby is the new strong well he won’t hesitate to take it. And don’t tell him that’s wrong he can’t be wrong two times in a row.

You did notice his stare. It was different now. You noticed one of his eyebrows would raise as he looked at you. His eyes wandered up and down. Before he could even walk over to have a word with you, you would start walking away. You were concerned he would insult you about your looks. Why else was he checking you out like that?

No one walks away from the grandmaster. You will listen to what he has to say. Bi-Han walked quickly towards you before yanking you back by your shirt.

“Where do you think you are going? Do you not see that I am trying to talk to you.” He is giving you his gentlest voice but it still feels like he will rip your spine out.

“I’m sorry, grandmaster.” You turned around quickly to look at him.

Suddenly his hands were at your face. He had a good grip on your soft cheeks, pinching and squeezing them. You looked up at him with confusion. You brought your hands up in an effort to remove his hands only for him to quickly slap them away. Bi-Han isn’t done admiring your beauty.

You thought he was being mean to you again. He was taunting you by bringing attention to your round face. This ain’t the first time something like this has happened. The only difference is that Bi-Han seems determined to look at you. He’s not saying anything which confuses you even more.

Yes, yes, she is perfect. She will look perfect standing next to me. No one will dare touch her unless they wish to feel her wrath. if anyone dares to say something negative about her weight I will make them pay for their disrespect. They will be forced to watch their hands lose function when I freeze them-

“Bi-Han, what are you doing to her?” Tomas’ voice rang out.

Bi-Han broke away from his inner monologue. He wasn’t done making plans on making you his. His eyes caught onto the sight of Tomas’ hand reaching out to grab your wrist. You looked at him in desperation as you were so confused by what was happening. But suddenly you were flung over Bi-Han’s shoulder. He did it as if you weighted as much as a kitten. He started walking away but he had something to say to Tomas.

“Mind your business, Tomas.” He snapped at his adopted brother before walking off with you.

You were humiliated by the fact that all of the Lin Kuei were watching their grandmaster carry you away. His arm was wrapped around your thighs. You didn’t see his face but he was satisfied that his arm was squeezing your thick thighs.

“Please…just put me down already. I got it you’re strong enough to pick me up.” Your disappointed voice was muffled by your hands covering your face.

“Silence. I will put you down when I want to.”

Were you silent or were you silenced?

Bi-Han brought you all the way to his office before placing you down on the ground. Don’t think you can catch your breath now because his arms quickly wrap around your waist and pull you onto his lap. This day just keeps getting weirder and weirder.

“What are you doing?! Don’t you think I’m a little too heavy to be sitting on your lap?”

He looked offended by your words. As if you were the one who was calling him heavy. It only made his grip on you grow tighter, making sure you won’t leave now.

“Do you see me as a man who is unable to handle anything? Don’t be so foolish. Just sit here and look pretty for me as I work.” He instructed you.

Pretty? Did he just call you pretty? Maybe you hit him too hard during practice. But right now you don’t feel like disobeying any orders from him now. Even if this is a joke you rather wait to get pushed off than get off yourself and face a possible punishment. So just sit there and look your prettiest. You already are a gorgeous lady so there is no need to push yourself.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

It’s not a joke anymore. It stopped being a joke a long time ago.

Every day since that weird interaction it’s like Bi-Han can’t keep his hands off you. He would go near you just to squeeze some part of you. It started with your arms which you really hated at first. You thought he was pointing out how he couldn’t feel muscles in that area. Wrong, he just liked the feel of it.

In general he likes the feel of you. But may the gods help anyone who tries to grab at you. Only Bi-Han can do that.

The one and only time you practiced with the others in the Lin Kuei it ended with someone’s face being smashed in and you being dragged away. Hey, he shouldn’t have smacked your stomach and called you names. He was just a sore loser who couldn’t comprehend losing to you. Well now he just lost his face privileges and respect from the grandmaster.

If anyone doubted you they had to face the fury of the Lin Kuei grandmaster. If fact they can’t even look at you at this point. If they looked at you for at least five seconds Bi-Han would start holding onto you like a child who is afraid their favorite toy will get taken away.

Wherever he went, you had to be with him. He needed to keep his eyes on you. In his mind you are already his, there is no arguing about it. You didn’t even know that’s what’s going on. It just happened.

Bi-Han loves to have you on his lap. It shows everyone that you are his now. He loves having his arms wrapped around your waist and squeezing it. Occasionally he would rest his head against your shoulder. That’s the calmest anyone has ever seen him. He would compare his hand size to your thighs. You thought it was another insult before you felt him squeeze them.

Squeezing, poking, squishing, grabbing, holding, secretly loving, that’s all he seemed to do. If you ever asked why, Bi-Han would silence you. You’re not allowed to question his actions nor hint that there was anything wrong with you. The only time you were allowed to have space was when you need to use the bathroom, eat, or sleep. And even getting him to go away so you could sleep was an issue.

You thought your saving grace would come once you heard Liu Kang would be visiting. He wanted to check on your progress and see if you wanted to return to the fire temple. He manages to make more time for you. No matter how much time you were away from him you were still Liu Kang’s apprentice.

Though that depends if Bi-Han will let you go.

One of the clansmen alerted Bi-Han of the god’s presence. Liu Kang soon came walking into the office. He was shocked to see you sitting on Bi-Han’s lap. Clearly it wasn’t fully your decision since you looked shy about it.

“I see you have gotten along with my apprentice. Is there any reason she is sitting on your lap instead of training?” Liu Kang addressed Bi-Han.

“Is there an issue with this. You brought her to me, I make the decision on what she is supposed to be doing right now.”

“I mean, I think I should have been training at this point but you were barely letting me do that.” You talked back, barely caring about what is happening anymore.

Liu Kang’s glowing eyes kept shifting between you and Bi-Han. If what you say is true, which it is, that means the grandmaster has been lacking in his duties. Though to Bi-Han he hasn’t lost anything from this experience.

“If that is the case it might be best to come back with me, my apprentice. Perhaps Bi-Han has other things he would prefer to attend to.” Liu Kang gestured for you to come with him.

The moment you tried to get off, Bi-Han pressed your body against him more. He glared at Liu Kang who looked back in shock. There is no chance in hell that he will let you walk out of this temple. No one will take his strong, chubby woman from him.

You sighed, realizing he will never give up. It dawned on you that he wasn’t making fun of you. He genuinely liked you now that you have shown your potential. You shrugged your shoulders at Liu Kang since you didn’t know what to do now. You would like more training but it might be a whole battle just to get Bi-Han off you. In a way you’re not complaining all that much.

“What is the meaning of this, Bi-Han? You have lacked in your duties to-“

Bi-Han didn’t want to hear anymore from Liu Kang. He carried you in his arms like a princess and walked out of the office. Liu Kang followed close behind him, still scolding him for his actions. All Bi-Han would respond with was a blunt no and continued walking on.

You’re left to think while this madness is going on. There is one thing you are certain you are feeling. Pride. Pride in the fact that you not only beat Bi-Han and proved your worth but proved that you are worth his affection. You changed this man’s perspective and his type. His eyes have been opened to the possibility of having a bigger figure in his arms and in his life. This is the way.

In an effort to get Liu Kang off his back he walked into his bedroom and slammed the door shut before Liu Kang could get another word out. He placed you on the bed before laying down next to you and resting his head on your chest. It’s hopeless, he’s too attached to you. I mean just look at that face. You didn’t think he could unfurrow his eyebrows. This is a moment in history!

“You’re not gonna let me go I’m guessing.” You asked.

“No.” Plain and simple from Bi-Han.

You held yourself back from chuckling. He’s clearly the possessive type. And if he can see that there is beauty in you then you will take it even if you had to beat him up first for him to see that.

“Fine, you win. Just this once.” You said softly.

Are you happy with your prize, Bi-Han?

After notes: Good amount of people don’t expect me to be strong because I’m chubby. A lot of my strength comes from my legs. But I’ve had instances where I have slapped and even punched people by accident. Literally told a story yesterday of how I punched someone I knew by accident and they folded. Anyways I was very happy to get a request like this. I hope you are happy with the outcome I did my best! I’m sorry i didn’t post yesterday I was very tired and mentally drained from all the bs. Hopefully that didn’t affect what I wrote. Adiós!

[sailoryooons]

hiiii :3 i’m a VERY silent reader (i’m terrified of my irls finding me on this god forsaken app) but i just love your writings so much so i had to participate in the agust event!!!!

childhood bffs yoongi x reader smut where they’re definitely probably too close, way closer than bffs should be anyways. reader goes to yoongi one night complaining bc no matter what she does, she just can’t cum! good thing yoongi’s actions speak louder than words <3

pls pls pls get totally creative w this, i love ur brain sm and i love seeing what you come up with!!!

❀ Pairing: Yoongi x f. reader

❀ Summary: Yoongi has always been your closest friend, but it’s always been a little closer than everyone else. He takes it one step further, offering to address a silly little problem for you. 

❀ Word Count: 2,320

❀ Genre: Friends to something more, PWP 

❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, some feelings of insecurity but like barely, talking about orgasm struggles, explicit sexual content including vaginal fingering, nipple stimulation, a hint of choking, a lot of sucking on neck/throat, nipple play, mostly reader getting finger blasted sdfnodsifgj, reader is completely naked and Yoongi is still clothed, mentions of oral (f. receiving), a little bit of cum eating

❀ Published: August 23, 2022

❀ A/N: Okay so this was supposed to be posted way earlier than 10:30 PM EST but I completely forgot I had this sitting and waiting to post (it was a long day) but HERE IT IS!!! I love the idea of Yoongi casually just being like yeah I’ll get you to come or whatever, let’s do it sdfjdfogijdfrgi thank you so much for being a reader and requesting something - silent or talkative reader, I'm just happy you're here and that you enjoy my writing! Thank you for being here.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Hali’s Happy Agust |

“You what?” You ask Yoongi, breath shaky. “Don’t play around like that, it’s not very funny.”

It’s rare that you can’t tell if Yoongi is making a joke or not. Though his humor is quiet like the night sky outside and soft like the sweater he’s draped in, you know Yoongi. Know him well enough to detect the subtle notes of a joke in his hushed words, know to listen amid the loud voices of your friends for a quiet jest, spoken softly just for you. 

Now, though, you’re a little unsure. 

Everyone has said for years that your friendship with Yoongi is too friendly. You vehemently disagree: affection between friends should be encouraged and treasured. Being able to platonically hold hands, share beds, and offer physical affection isn’t something reserved for lovers. You adamantly believe in this - always have. 

But… it is different with Yoongi. You think about how you always hold Taehyung’s hand, how you let him curl into your side during movies, or how he nests in your bed when he grows too tired for parties. Taehyung is particularly affectionate, but it does feel different.

“Let me make you cum,” Yoongi repeats, as though he’s reflecting on the weather outside. He’s on his knees on the couch next to you, hands resting in his lap. “No one should have to go through their adult life without partners making them cum.”

You roll your eyes. “Plenty of people can’t cum for a number of reasons, Yoongi.”

“Okay, that’s fair. Let me try anyway.”

“Why do you care?”

He tilts his head. “Because you’re you. And I’m good at making people cum. It feels like an obvious answer.”

“We’re best friends.”

“My point exactly. Look, if I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry, I-”

You shake your head and wave him off. “No, I just. Didn’t expect the offer and it made me nervous.”

“Nervous how?”

Letting out a long exhale, you rest your head on the back of the couch and look up at the ceiling. Your warm mug of tea is abandoned and the drama on the TV plays on, silent in the background. You chew the inside of your cheek, wondering how to string your words together. 

With anyone else, you’d feel embarrassed or nervous. With Yoongi, your anxiety is significantly less. Even if you speak the words on your mind, you’re sure it won’t change things. You’ve been through your fair share of oversharing, never shamed, never turned away. 

It’s how you started this conversation about your sex life in the first place.

So you decide to be honest. 

“Nervous like, I’m into it and I want to try it out, but I don’t want it to make our dynamic weird.” 

“It’s not weird for me if it’s not weird for you. I’m sorry I offered so bluntly.” 

Your lips twitch and you reach out, taking his hand in yours. Yoongi has beautiful hands. Long fingers with knobby knuckles, blunt nails and gentle fingertips, calloused palms. You’ve mapped the structure of his palm hundreds of times, know the shapes of the lines on them, and watched a palm reader chart the stars on them. 

Yoongi’s hands are where you’re safest. 

“Don’t apologize, you didn’t violate a boundary.” His mouth is soft when he smiles, his eyes are dark when he watches you. He’s so pretty. A soft thing with round cheeks, kind eyes, and gentle smiles. Quiet. Confident. “You really wanna try?” 

Yoongi’s grin turns feral. “I do.” 

“Alright.”

It starts with him leading you to your room, hand holding yours gently. It starts with a shy smile and hungry eyes, Yoongi watching you as you sit on the edge of your bed, unsure and giving him a questioning gaze. His hands are confident when he makes you move backward, shuffling until you’re in the middle of your bed on your back. 

Yoongi joins you on the bed, kneeling next to you. He watches as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over your thigh. His touch is featherlight, making you shiver. He doesn’t do anything but this at first, tracing the shape of your clothed hip, up the sides of your rips, under the curve of your breast. 

Your breath catches, fixated on Yoongi as he outlines your curves. His eyes flicker to your face, drinking in your expression when he draws his fingers over the swell of your tits and over your nipple. The stimulation is barely there but it spikes. You inhale sharply and he smirks as he keeps going, brushing over your throat, and under your jaw, feeling your pulse. 

“Pretty,” he murmurs. He takes you by the chin, thumb pulling at your bottom lip. “What do you like?” 

It’s hard to answer. Yoongi’s hand leaves your mouth and trails back down to your neck. He wraps his fingers around your throat but doesn’t squeeze. It’s a barely-there ghost of a grip and he raises his eyebrow. You nod, unable to string together an answer. He squeezes gently before continuing his exploration downward again.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth. This Yoongi is one you’ve never experienced. He’s quiet as always, but the silence is heavier. Pointed. He bites his bottom lip a little as he passes your stomach and dips between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. 

“Yeah?” he asks when your hips twice. 

You feel heat lick through you, pooling between your legs. Your fingers twist in the sheets in anticipation. Heat pulses from your pussy, panties getting damp and Yoongi’s has barely touched you. It’s the way he looks at you, the way he presses his thumb against your swelling clit. 

“Yeah,” you breathe, voice watery. “I’m pretty into it.”

“I can tell,” he teases. He leans down, keeping one hand between your legs, gently applying pressure and circling his fingers as his lips search for yours. “You’re already wet, huh?”

Yoongi doesn’t let you answer. His lips capture yours and you sigh into his mouth, hands coming up automatically to wrap around his neck. It feels so natural. His hair is soft between your fingers and his mouth is warm, tasting faintly of the peppermint tea he drank earlier. 

Kissing Yoongi is heady. He controls the kiss, keeping the pace slow as if he’s savoring you. Your thighs close around his hand as he presses through your shorts harder. When he introduces his tongue to your mouth, it takes your breath away. 

Breaking the kiss, Yoongi mouths at your jaw. You arch into him, running your hands down his chest, feeling the warm skin beneath his sweater. One of your hands goes to his wrist pressed into the mattress by your head, holding onto him, the other goes to his hand between your legs, laying your fingers on his, pressing.

He hums, the buzz of his mouth against the underside of your jaw maddening. Together, you peel your shorts down your legs. Yoongi shuffles closer to you, your thigh pressed against his as he continues to kneel next to you, heat radiating from his body.

Yoongi traces the trim of your panties. You watch him, your mouth parted as you breathe unsteadily. He is solely focused on you. You can feel the slick sticking to the silk, watching as he drags a finger near your hip, his touch tantalizing. 

Maybe this is what you were missing. Yoongi takes his time, dragging out the feeling of his hands on you. Works you up as he removes your shirt and bra next. You feel drunk on him already, nipples pebbling in the cold room. His nails scratch lightly up your stomach to your chest. He smirks as he traces slow, lazy circles around your nipples, eyes glancing up to watch your expression. 

“Why?” you ask, hissing at the light stimulation. You want more. 

“No one is in a rush,” he mutters. His voice is low, raspy. “Are you?”

When you shake your head, he smiles, pinching a nipple between two fingers. A curse drips from your mouth and your hips buck. You close your eyes, letting Yoongi tweak one nipple then the other, letting him guide you through. The stimulation feels good - otherworldly, even, when he bends down and flicks the tip of his tongue over one playfully. 

“No,” you sigh. “Not in a rush.” 

His teeth scrape your sensitive bud and your head rolls back, pushing into the mattress. “Good. Relax, let me take care of you.”

Tension melts out of your body. You didn’t realize you were so tense until he pointed it out. You let yourself sink into the feeling of Yoongi sucking gently on the peak of your right nipple while his thumb brushes back and forth over the other. The stimulation feels good, your head lolling to the side as you breath shakily. 

Yoongi is slow. He takes his time running his tongue across your chest, air cooling is spit as he goes. You squeeze your thighs together, feeling your cunt throb for attention. He notices, nipping his way back up to your neck as he slides a hand down between your legs, pressing your panties into your sticky folds. 

“Fuck,” you sigh. He nuzzles your neck, tongue swipe over the sensitive spot of your throat. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this fucking wet.”

“Good.” His words are muffle as he sucks at your tender skin. You angle your head, giving him better access. It feels like the bed is spinning wildly, a compass lost in an electromagnetic field. “Tell me at any point if something doesn’t feel good or you want something else.”

“Okay.”

You open your eyes and smile. It’s so Yoongi to make sure he asks what you want. So Yoongi to remind you that he’s here for you. That as he slips his hand under the waistband of your underwear, he’s determined to provide for you. To get you off. 

A moan slips out of your mouth when it comes into contact with your dripping cunt. He avoids touching your clit directly, fingers spreading your folds as he teases your hole experimentally. It feels good - whether it’s because it’s Yoongi or because you’re already worked up, it doesn’t matter. 

Yoongi circles around your clit deftly a few times, making your hips wiggle. A tingle settles in your stomach, fingers twisting in the sheets.

When he retracts his hand, you open your eyes. He watches you steadily lifting his fingers to pop them between pink lips and oh. He hums around his fingers, making a show of rolling his tongue around them, tasting your juices. He slides them slowly out of his mouth, hypnotizing you. 

“Mmm.” He grins and reaches to slide your underwear off. “Can’t wait to eat you out. First, I’m gonna make you come.”

Never in your friendship would you have imagined Yoongi to be like this. It would be a lie to say you’d never thought what it might be like to have him like this, his hands peeling your underwear off. The scrap of the silk on your legs is heady, every part of your skin extra sensitive. 

Lips parts, eyes fixed, you watch him toss the underwear to the side. He shuffles so that one knee rests against his leg, the other spread flat on the mattress for him. There is a split second where you feel vulnerable, spread open for him to see how much of a mess you are at the barely stimulation. You start to close your leg but Yoongi shakes his head, hand brushing down your inner thigh.

Slowly, Yoongi drags a finger up your slit to your entrance, massaging lightly with his finger before sinking in slowly. You let out a long breath, your walls clenching around his finger. It doesn’t provide a lot of stretch, but it feels good, the pad of his pointer stroking your inner wall. 

At first, Yoongi is slow. Familiarizing himself with your warm, wet heat. He picks up the pace then, stroking deeply, ensuring to push up against that soft spot inside of you. It drives you crazy. Crazier, still, when he leans down and attaches his mouth to yours, tongues tangling as he fingers you leisurely. 

“Fuck,” Yoongi mutters against your mouth. “You’ve got a wet little cunt.”

“Not usually,” you admit. You card your fingers through his hair, pulling at the ends a little. Your entire body is radiating with heat, sweat slicking your skin. “Fuck, it feels good. Doesn’t usually.”

“No?” he sucks harshly at your jaw and your eyes flutter shut. 

“No. Usually they jack hammer their fingers into my pussy.”

His laugh is hot on your skin. “Nah, just gotta find the spot.” 

Yoongi has found the spot. Makes it ten times better when he adds another finger, giving you something more substantial to grip on. Your cunt grips his fingers like a vice, slick sounds filling the room. He adds his thumb to the mix, pressing down on your clit. You gasp his name, hips bucking against his hand, dripping into his palm.

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts. “Fuck yourself onto my hand the way you like.” 

Together, you work yourself up to the edge. Yoongi doesn’t pause for a moment, doesn’t complain that his wrist is tired, doesn’t stop tonguing your sensitive spot on your neck until you’re clinging to him, coming around his fingers in a wet, messy squelch. 

You shake as he thrusts his fingers a few more times, the slopping sound of his palms smacking your pussy intoxicating. You feel like liquid, blurry at the edges and warm. 

“Holy shit,” you sigh. Yoongi pulls his fingers from your hole and you immediately squirm, hating the empty feeling. “That was just from your fingers?”

“Uh huh.” You watch as he licks his fingers again, grinning around them. Your stomach flips, cunt still leaking, begging for more. “Now watch what happens when I eat this pussy.” 

[kysuguru]

fitting in — stsg x fem!reader

synopsis : gojo satoru is overbearing, no matter. you’ll learn to endure

includes / cw : gojo is kind of mean

all mine masterlist

a / n : chapter twoooooo!!!!! nothing much else to say other than i’m not rlly satisfied w my writing… i’ll cope.

You were introduced to your dorm. Yaga informed you that you'd be able to take a day or two off to get to know the place before you started classes. You didn't bring much with you, honestly. Other than any outfit you could fit into your suitcase and some necessities. Everything else was left behind at home in your moments of panic.

It did not bother you much with your families lack of financial stability. You are not allowed much of the little things. But you hoped you could at least try and attempt to make this the room of your dreams.

So for now, a small picture of you after losing a tooth — seven years old — with you in your smiling mother's arms, would be the only decor.

But now that you were settled, you were kind of stuck. You were unsure whether or not to escape your room and mingle or sit here in silence. As tempting as the thought of making friends out of the three other classmates you had was, you remembered how students at your previous school treated you and got cold feet.

You were always socially inept due to the constant distance from others that people and your mother forced upon you.

It's not others fault that they didn't like you, you thought. Maybe it was because you didn't offer to help with their studies, or maybe it's because you always got so scared to try and connect with others that they got the wrong idea.

No matter.

Here, hopefully, you could start anew.

For now, you need to do research. Still, to this day, your mother's words ring through your head.

"Teaching you is such a hassle," she brushed it off as a joke as she kissed your head, but you knew better. Because you could still spot the frustration in her expression. She must've been in a good mood that day, for she didn't blow a fuse.

But you didn't want to make anyone else feel the way you made your mother feel. You didn't want them carrying your weight. So to prevent that, you'll make sure that by the time you start classes, you'd be more than knowledgeable with jujutsu sorcery. And classes were tomorrow so you wanted to start as soon as possible.

A library...

You'd have to leave the room to find that. You became nervous all over again. The possibility of running into someone was unknown, you still didn't want to risk it. To soothe yourself you tapped your knuckle against your mother's face in the photograph. Thinking of her calmed you. If you thought of it as becoming a better person to help her, you could conquer the world if you wanted to.

You wiped the imaginary dust off her glassed face with your thumb before you turned towards the door, a new determination in your veins.

You slid your door open quietly as to not make any noise and alert anyone else. Your mother hated when you got loud. as you were ready to tiptoe around the school, a familiar girl blocked your path as she stood in front of you.

You yelped in surprise, jumping back. You didn't expect her appearance.

"Ogawa [Name], correct?" It was the girl, the model girl. One of your classmates, the only other girl. Even her voice was gorgeous.

"Yes..." You whispered, a finger hovering over your parted lips as you stared.

"I'm Ieiri, Shoko Ieiri. call me Shoko."

Your voice practically shook with awe, "Shoko. I'm Ogawa [Name]..." Before you could fix your slip-up, Shoko looked at you, subtly bewildered, before her lips stretched into a small smile.

"I know." She motioned her head to the side, "Follow me."

It didn't take you much to heed her command. instead of having to go to them, one of them came to you. The idea of her wanting to be your friend made you eager, but you didn't want to get too ahead of yourself. Maybe she was just being courteous.

You walked besides her, falling a bit behind. Even though you knew there weren't many people at Jujutsu Tech, you didn't like the idea of someone catching you walking besides her. People never took to you walking side by side with them, afraid of the accusations of being acquainted with you. as if it was a bad thing. And maybe Shoko would think the same.

You don't think you'd mind. You were always used to being the shadow anyways. So it was okay with you. you were surprised she approached you. That was enough for you. Even if it was simply to be nice it didn't matter, it made you happy either way.

Shoko was such a nice girl.

Shoko turned her head slightly towards you, noticing how you lagged behind. She raised a brow, questioning, yet turned around and continued walking. But you noticed her pace was a bit slower.

The walk was silent, and you weren't sure how she'd take to you sparking a conversation. So you stayed silent and continued to follow her until you both stopped at a vending machine. She inserted coins before looking at you.

"What's your pick? It's on me." You don't think you'd ever get over her smile — as small as it was. You could tell by the stretch of her lips that she probably didn't smile that often. You think she should. She looks beautiful when she does.

"Are you sure? You don't need to do that! I can pay!" You couldn't, but you'd make another excuse. You were good at that (you weren't).

Shoko was already nice enough to accompany you, walk with you, and even talk with you. You couldn't let her buy you a drink, you just couldn't!

Her eyes crinkled and her smile turned somber, as if she understood you a little bit, "I insist."

Your face contorted, your lips downturned as your eyebrows knitted. You hesitated, and then you spoke.

"A strawberry soda is just fine." You fidget with your fingers.

She hums and clicks the corresponding button. You both watch as it tumbles down to the bottom. She bends to grab it before holding it out for you.

"Might wanna wait a bit, could explode on you."

"I promise to pay you back," you whisper, content.

You take it, savoring the coldness of it against your palms. Your mother was strict with what you ate in the house, especially since you guys weren't all that well off. So sodas were a luxury in your home. You couldn't help but let your eyes glitterm your face softening as you gaze happily at the soft drink.

Shoko notices, watching your face change as she sips on her drink. You're extremely odd. She thought that when you first entered the classroom and she still thinks that now.

You're quiet, eager, yet also cautious. You act as if you're stepping on eggshells in the presence of anyone. It irritates her a little, and she thinks she knows why.

She brushes away the seed of pity in her stomach at the way you gaze so happily at a cheap drink before she's calling your name. "Come sit."

Shoko walks to the bench beside the machine, patting the empty spot next to her.

You're perplexed once more. Now she was inviting you to sit by her. You didn't know what to think at this point. You were prepared for her to brush you away with a brief comment of paying her back.

But, not wanting to protest such a kind offer — or demand — you plop down besides her, making sure to put some distance. She sees, yet makes no comment.

You fidget with your soda as you stare down at your lap. The silence isn't uncomfortable by any means, but you're anticipating a conversation. With the invitation you expected her to say something first. but maybe that was asking for too much. You should say something first...

"So.." she turns to you as you look up, making immediate eye contact. You instantly avert your eyes, even more nervous than before. "Are you the only ones who attend this school?"

"Nah. There's the first year and Utahime in the third."

You wonder who utahime is, that must be another girl. You hope you can get along with her. You pop the cap of your drink, bringing it to your lips.

"That doesn't seem to be a lot," you're looking at her now, but she faces forward, sipping her drink.

"Of course it's not. You don't usually attend a school with only seven students. But there's the Kyoto branch as well. They probably have more students, I wouldn't know. I don't care to keep count."

"The Kyoto branch.."

"You honestly should've gone there, it's so much closer to your home. But Yaga is the one who found you so... lucky us." She turns to you with that already familiar soft smile, and you think her words are genuine.

Before you can reply, two pairs of footsteps approach your direction. You can hear their chatter and their voices are familiar.

You look up to meet the gazes of your two other classmates. The black haired boy's expression is more laid-back. He has a small smile on his face — you can see his slight dimples. He waves at you.

Whereas the white haired boy's face is blank, he's staring, but you can't tell what he's thinking. Those black glasses obscure any hint you can get as to what's on his mind. Seeing them eye you so openly makes you nervous. You use one hand to play with the hem of your skirt, your eyes dropping to your nails.

Shoko sighs at Gojo's lack of politeness.

"Of course you come to bother me and my new friend before the day starts," she rolls her eyes and you think she's being sarcastic. But you don't care to find out as you mull over her words, staring at her side profile. My new friend. Did she mean that? You really hoped she did, because you didn't know what else to do with the immense joy in your chest.

She meets your eyes, smiling.

"I'm gonna go for a smoke, alright? Watch them for me," she requests, as if they're babies that need to be sat. You panic at the idea of being with them alone and you think she can tell.

She tries to assure you, "I'll be back before you know it."

She's walking off with a wave, leaving you alone in an awkward silence with the other two. Or you think it's awkward — well it is for you anyways. Maybe you should've asked to go along with her. Even though you hated the smell of cigarettes you would manage if it meant not being stuck here..

Well technically, you're not stuck. But you're also too afraid to leave. They'd probably see that as rude. You merely sip at your drink, trying to appear nonchalant.

You look up at the sound of shoes clicking against the tiles, meeting the eyes of the guy with the soft eyes and odd bangs. He looks kind, he smiles at you and your tense shoulders relax a bit. It seems that's what his goal was, for his smile gets a little wider.

His friend inserts money into the vending machine, ignoring the both of you as the kind boy sits beside you.

"I'm Geto Suguru." His voice is soft yet deep, it resonates with you. You think you can fall asleep to the sound of him.

"Ogawa [Name]..." You try your best to maintain eye contact. It's hard.

"I know. You introduced yourself yesterday," he's smiling.

You don't know whether or not to be embarrassed of your second slip up of the day. So you settle for drinking more of your soda, staring at your shoes, finding a small comfort in the familiar marks that you've become accustomed to over the last couple years.

"When do you start class? I didn't see you today."

"Uhm, tomorrow I think. I'm just getting used to the layout today... or that's what I was told." It's so apparent that you're anxious, with the way that you fidget with your clothes and shuffle your feet. It's so embarrassing you might tear up, but it's all you can do. You really can't stay still.

Geto opens his mouth most likely to try and comfort you and get you comfortable with his presence. But before he can, Shoko calls out to him.

"Geto! I need a light!"

Your eyes trail up from your shoes to his face and you can see him sigh in exasperation. He opens his eyes, meets your gaze, and smiles sheepishly.

"I'll be right back."

As he gets up you realize who exactly you're being left with. Well, you don't really know. But what you do know is that his presence is unsettling, it's suffocating. You don't even have to be alone with him to feel that way.

You almost reach out and ask for Geto to stay, you're not exactly used to him, but he seems much kinder than his counterpart.

But it's silent once more and your eyes are right back to looking at your shoes. You finish off your drink and quietly as you can, drop it into the trash can next to you.

You're sweating, you're sure you are. But you don't make a move to wipe your forehead. You're not sure what to do. you're not used to conversing and mingling with other people. As little as three people is, it's still overwhelming for you.

But how can you excel in this school if you don't interact with others?

That question still doesn't push you, but you reminisce. You think of your sleeping mother, going back home, and you finally open your mouth.

"What's your name?"

Gojo blinks.

"You don't know who I am?" He asks, tone nowhere near condescending, it's genuinely curious, surprised. But you can't tell and feel a little humiliated.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, am I supposed to?" You're sweating once again, shuffling your feet as you speak up in a squeaky voice.

Every jujutsu sorcerer is aware of the existence of Gojo Satoru, the boy who altered the balance of the world on the day of his birth. But it wasn't like this didn't happen sometimes, so he brushed it off.

"Well," he opens his mouth but closes it, "No, it's whatever. I'm Gojo Satoru." He's looking into your eyes now, but due to the obstruction of his glasses, you can't tell. So you don't notice that he's eyeing you expectantly, waiting for realization to dawn on you.

It doesn't.

"What a pretty name. It fits you," you speak with kindness, trying your best to smile softly. You fail. It looks like a grimace. Gojo is close to laughing.

"So you really don't know who I am?"

Gojo was convinced that telling you his name, you'd know. People's jaws would usually drop, as they realized just who they were talking to. But you just sat there, clueless, as you moved your feet around with an empty confused look on your face.

"I'm sorry for repeating myself. But am I supposed to know? I'm new to this jujutsu stuff, honestly. So if you're a renowned sorcerer, I unfortunately wasn't aware until now." Seeing no reaction from him, your head drops a bit. "Sorry," you mutter under your breath, afraid.

You were so used to the reaction your mother gave you when you weren't all knowing. Angry, loud, and condescending. And with your only mother being the most present in your life, was it safe to assume Gojo would react the same way? If so, you were prepared, and maybe you deserved it. You weren't smart when it came to jujutsu after all.

"That makes sense," he says.

It's silent as you wait for him to add on. Which he doesn't. so he just sips on his extremely sweet drink as you stare at him, blinking.

He meets your gaze full force, seeing it as competition, neither of you looking away.

"I-is that it?" You tilt your head confusedly.

He blinks alongside you.

"Was there meant to be more?"

Now you're really confused. But you don't want to be painted as weird, so you try and let it go.

"No, nevermind."

It's silent again, for the third time. But it's not as uncomfortable as it was before. You get the idea that Gojo doesn't take to you. That' okay, Shoko being your acquaintance is enough to get you through this year. Plus, Geto seemed polite enough. Maybe not enough for you two to be close, but enough for you not to be so awkward around him.

Shoko's familiar voice bleeds into your senses and you look up to see her and Geto walking side by side.

"So, Ogawa. What do you want to do today? Since it's your free day." She sits beside you once more, with her here you can feel more relaxed. You didn't realize how tense your body was.

"Oh, I was just hoping to go to the library."

"Who does that in their free time?" Gojo snickers, crushing the can of his drink into a tiny ball. You're in awe at the raw power.

Shoko shushes him, "Cool. What for?"

"Nothing much. Just studying, really. Since I'm new to jujutsu and all."

"Yeah, that makes sense. You don't know your technique either, right?" Geto's voice pipes up, his finger is rubbing his chin as he questions you.

You shake your head 'no' in response.

"I can take you there if you'd like. If you don't know the way, that is." Geto smiles, putting his hands in his pockets.

You look at Shoko for some type of approval, she merely shrugs. It's not like you needed permission to go, you were just unsure.

But you look up at geto and answer quietly, "That'd be nice."

"You know I haven't made a trip there in awhile, maybe I'll find a new book-"

Before Gojo can speak any further, Shoko pulls him down by his blazer to sit. "You barely read, hotshot. Keep me company."

Shoko didn't really want to be alone with him, but she was aware you weren't exactly comfortable in his presence. That topped with Geto would surely make you anxious.

You turn to meet Shoko's eyes and she waves at you. You raise your hand a bit, waving back, before you turn forward and trek off with Geto.

Gojo crosses his arms, huffing as he watches you both disappear around the corner.

"Don't be intimidated by him," Geto speaks up once you're both out of earshot. You tilt your head to look at him. "He's not all that scary once you get to know him."

You're silent, not sure what to say. You tap your lip with your index finger, thinking of Gojo. You remember the knit of his brows when the fact that you didn't know him left your lips.

"I think he's upset with me."

Geto looks at you. "Why do you think that?"

"I didn't know who he was. I mean, I still don't know. But I think he was upset? I couldn't really tell. I guess I just kind of assumed," you say, sheepish.

Geto chuckles, and you're enamored. He seems so bright, you've only known him for a little while, but he's always smiling. You wonder what other faces he can make.

"That's new. He's from the acclaimed Gojo clan, so he's usually drowned in praise. He was probably surprised that you were clueless." Geto finishes with a mutter of how he wished he could've seen it go down.

"The Gojo clan?"

Geto eyes you up and down, as if surveying you. "You really don't know much do you?"

You shrink in on yourself. His voice didn't sound insulting, but you still felt a bit targeted.

He backtracks, "I didn't mean it like that, I promise. I'm just shocked. I've never met someone with the desire to be a jujutsu sorcerer so in the dark."

"But anyways," he speaks up once more, "There's three big families, Gojo being one of them if not the most prominent. They're known for their cursed techniques. Gojo being the limitless and six eyes."

You're still confused, but you think you somewhat understand. "What're the other two families?"

"Zenin and Kamo's. Oh, we're here," he says. You both arrive at the library, it's nothing much but it'll be perfect to study in. The size of it isn't all that big, more than a few chairs to sit in — those look pretty cozy. There's also ambient lit lamps sitting on each of the tables, it casts a warm glow in the room that could make anyone feel comfortable.

"There's no librarian. since not too many people know about jujutsu. So just take whatever, whenever."

You nod, your eyes surveying the shelves.

"Where should I start?"

"Well I suggest you go to that section, so you can learn what cursed energy is, cursed techniques, and how they work."

You nod, "Thank you for bringing me here, Geto."

He smiles at you, eyes crinkling as the hollow of his dimples show on his cheeks. This smile is genuine — all of them are — but there's a gentler, happier feel to this one. You stare for a little while before he finally bids you goodbye.

"Good luck, please let me know if you need help." You say yes, even though you most likely won't go to him. You'd be wasting his time, you're sure.

You planned on being there as long as possible. Of course, you were gonna get in enough sleep. But you need to learn as much as possible before tomorrow mornings class. Plus, not only would you study, you could also think of what to gift Geto and Shoko to repay their kindness.

You beamed thinking about it. You wondered how Shoko would react. If she would adorn that small smile. If Geto's eyes would crinkle again like they did today as his dimples came to light.

You hoped so, their happy expressions were their prettiest. You haven't seen much else from them but you're positive they look better when they're smiling.

You grab a couple of books and make your way to a table. As you open a book about the Gojo clan you think of Gojo. Should you get him anything? Even though he wasn't as kind as Shoko or Geto, you'd feel bad if you left him out.

But you think of his blank expression. How he stared at you as if he was peeling your entire being apart layer by layer and get shifty all over again. You weren't sure so you decide to push that subject to the back of your mind for later.

taglist : @okayiamkassandra

[koinotame]

boob windows. that's it that's the fic

word count: 1.1K content warnings: this is meant to be yandere au and sagau/self aware au so uh. hint of that, but mostly just crack. nothing Super Nsfw but the whole thing is raunchy and suggestive humour

characters included: mostly ei, but childe, kaeya and briefly zhongli also make an appearance with some others mentioned

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! this was on my to-edit-&-repost list for a while now and this seemed like a good day to do so lol. alas this was originally written before the sumeru release so while editing there wasn't really an opportunity for me to add in wriothesley apparently out-butting zhongli or lyney's tigh high garters and i only just realised kaveh could technically also count here so uh. forgive me. i'll write something for them some day

"is… is everything alright, your grace?"

you loudly suck up another boba pearl, not moving your gaze from where it’s been lodged the past several minutes. "mm, everything’s fine."

ei fidgets in front of you, the cup held tightly in her hands still almost full. she looks unsure, but decides that she knows better than to question you. "if you say so."

it’s clear this isn’t what she had in mind when she personally came to see you instead of sending the raiden shōgun to greet and attend to you. the one time she comes out of her plane, all you’re seemingly doing is ignoring all table manners and gawking at her chest.

yes, that’s right, you’re ogling her chest. or, more accurately, you’re ogling her tiddy window.

between her and kaeya, she’s showing off much more chest. but then kaeya knows what he’s doing, while ei just seems to have it there for convenience over aesthetic…

you squint at her while you get lost in thoughts, and ei’s fidgeting intensifies.

ah shit. you forgot about itto. he wins in terms of who shows off their chest the most, you guess. he’s even wearing that… you’re not sure what to call it but tit belt fits well enough. anyway, the tit belt accentuates his pecs very, very nicely, although they do hide his nips from sight. alas.

you suppose gorou and cyno also exist, but they don’t have the same appeal. oh, and navia and la signora, but both of them are just wearing a sleeveless, collarless dress, so you’re not sure that counts either.

but then by that argument, does itto count? he’s not even wearing a shirt. cyno isn’t wearing a shirt either. and what gorou has is more of a tummy window than anything… but he does have that little window?

between gorou and childe, gorou is definitely winning though. you’d apologise for slandering your poor ajax but between the little triangle he shows off and gorou’s entire tummy out… you’re not sorry. though… there’s something to be said about a small slither of skin inviting you to stick your hands into that gorou having his whole tummy out doesn’t have.

wait, wait. you just had a genius idea. actually, two.

first of all, zhongli with a tiddy window… you are considering. then again, you guess his biggest asset is his bubble butt.

second, and way bigger: an idol group with some of your characters… but they all have tiddy windows.

"…your grace?"

you’re brought out of your stupor by ei, who is gazing in concern at you. you blink at her.

she struggles to find words. "are… are you sure everything is alright? is something not to your liking?"

it’s then that you realise you’ve started drooling at some point. shit.

you hurriedly wipe at it and clear your throat. "yeah, I’m sure. sorry, were you saying anything?"

she looks taken aback. "no, please don’t apologise. I should be the one to… I shouldn’t have interrupted your thinking."

it’s then that childe happens to walk by, and, like the attention hog he is, tries to get a foot into the conversation. you stay mostly unresponsive while the two chat (which seems to be mostly childe trying to hold a conversation with you while ei admonishes him), your eyes drifting back to ei’s tiddy window.

you really could stare at that for the rest of your life.

childe then follows your line of sight and chokes.

…though more because of him trying to laugh while choking on the dango he was eating than embarrassment at having caught onto your very appropriate thoughts.

ei looks confused but makes no move to help him other than pushing his head away from the table so he doesn’t make a mess. you honestly can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

he finally manages to swallow properly (you almost want to pat him on the back and praise him for swallowing like a good boy) before turning to you.

"do you want me to strip? my chest looks much nicer, I assure you."

you and ei stare at him.

he raises his eyebrows, pointing at her. "her skin looks way too soft and pampered." she looks almost offended. "mine’s covered in scars and I have actual muscles, doesn’t that feel much better for fondling?"

"what if…" you lean closer to him mischievously, like you’re about to tell him some big secret. "I prefer soft chests?"

he deflates. ei flushes, ducking her head into her still-near-full cup of bubble tea. "well, if that’s what you prefer… I can’t get rid of the scars, but I can stop working out. hmm…" he looks like he’s starting to make serious plans.

"no, I honestly don’t really care. all tiddy is good tiddy." you clap your hands. "anyway! it’s more about the boob window. you already have a (sad) tummy window, so it wouldn’t work."

"why not? wouldn’t that be double the sexy?"

"no, it cancels out."

you’re going to ignore whatever gorou has going on, because that works pretty well.

ei looks unfathomably lost.

"and anyway, if we’re talking about tummy windows, gorou wins."

he deflates further.

then he perks up.

"what about…" he brings his fingers to his face. you think it’s an attempt at looking cool. "butt window?"

you deadpan. "have fun getting arrested for public indecency."

he winks at you. "I wouldn’t mind getting arrested if you’re the one punishing me."

you have to physically hold the electro archon back.

"why, I wasn’t expecting to run into any of you here. what are you three up to?" kaeya’s voice cuts through ei’s snarls all of a sudden. he seems amused, but there’s an edge in the way he eyes childe.

"I am definitely sexier than any archon or soldier," childe says at the exact same time that you say "we’re discussing tiddy windows."

kaeya lets out something between a snort and a chuckle. it’s a pretty sound, but you can’t let yourself be distracted by him. he knows what he’s doing.

"oh? in that department, don’t I win?"

you stare intently at his.

"do you want to touch?"

you move your stare to his face. "am I allowed to?"

he smiles, mirth in his eye. "you needn’t ask. all of me belongs to you, and that includes my chest."

you seriously consider it and childe takes the opportunity to shove himself between the two of you.

"wait, wait! I offered first! ignore him, I’m right here!" "your grace," ei cuts in, "if you’d like to, I don’t mind you touching any part of me."

"ugh, fine, fine! I’ll just sample all of you then. if you’re sure you’re okay with it."

zhongli, somehow, picks the absolute worst moment to walk in.

the look on his face is priceless (you can’t tell if he looks offended or jealous), but even that doesn’t compare to the feeling of soft tiddy in your hands.

you were right, tiddy windows really are the best.