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kitimeq · 3 days ago

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ੈ✩‧₊˚we can’t be friends 🤍 xavier 星回 ੈ✩‧₊˚

RE-UPLOAD! The original post didn’t show up in the tags, sorry for the confusion :c

pairing ੈ✩: xavier x reader

summary ੈ✩: you and xavier had been best friends for years, nearly inseparable since the moment you met. But after one slightly drunken night, everything shifted: you became friends with benefits. You told yourself you could handle it, but as time went on, your heart began to ache. You had to end it, for your own sake. You were in love with him, but you couldn't shake the painful truth: you believed he’d never feel the same. Still, what if, all this time, while you were trying to push him away, he was quietly hoping to show you how perfect you two were together?

word count ੈ✩: 12k. omg. it’s LONG, long. grab some snacks and let me entertain you for a while!!

tropes ੈ✩: 18+, smut, best friends with benefits, miscommunication, unrequired love, not really tho, angst, angst with happy ending, plot with porn, love confessions, needy xavier, obsessed xavier, domestic xavier, i suck at giving tropes i swear i will get better someday, desperate xavier, everything is consensual, the consumption of alcohol mentioned, pet names, xavier was once in love with mc but the myths are not canon in this one!!

author’s note ੈ✩: GUYS this one’s IT. This idea was blooming slowly in my mind for quite some time. I really hope you’ll like it 🥹 also, please be gentle with me, i’m not a native speaker of english and I’m definitely not a writer. I like to think that everything i create is just fueled by my passionate delulu. please let me know if you liked it and if maybe you’d like to read part 2!! ♡ enjoy your reading!!

!!do NOT read if you’re not 18+!!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

It all started with the simplest of touches.

Your hands grazed, as if by accident. Then your eyes met. He grabbed you by your forearm, or maybe you grabbed him, everything was so blurry in your mind. A touch on a waist, a hand on a chest, and a sudden clash of your lips. You saw fireworks exploding in your mind, sending pleasant thrumming throughout your whole body.

Desperate touches. Rapid breaths. A whisper, maybe two. He said something. What did he say? The sound of your heart was the only thing you could hear.

Your dress came off. You felt lips. Lips marking every part of your body, leaving behind wet paths that made the exposed skin shiver due to the coolness of the air. He went down. Down. Down, and looked at you expectantly. Your head never nodded that quickly and it probably never will again. You saw stars. Millions and millions of them, shimmering under your closed eyelids. He grabbed your hand and put it into his hair. You caressed it gently, savoring the softness of it.

Then, you saw his eyes. Beautiful, deep blues that looked far too innocent for what he did and what he was about to do with you next. He kissed you again and again, and again, and he held you close throughout the whole night, making you shiver, moan, cry, beg — until you fell asleep from exhaustion right in the safety of his arms. He turned your world upside down.

And then came the next morning, when you began to question the entire ordeal. You panicked, thinking about your friendship that you valued the most and Xavier, whom you just couldn’t bear to lose. However, when you wanted to put it past you, to blame the alcohol consumed that night, act as if it was just a slip of your judgement, a mistake, a reaction caused by the need of intimacy after being single for a long time, he wasn’t having it. He said that he couldn’t forget about it, that it changed things, and you blurted out the first thing that came into your mind. You proposed the whole arrangement.

And that’s how, after several months, your relationship with Xavier stayed clear and technically uncomplicated. Friends with benefits. You thought that even if that night did change things, then in this way you could act as if it wasn’t a big deal to you. In this way, you wouldn’t have to lose him, wouldn’t make things awkward. You still acted normally in front of each other, you continued to spend time in almost the same way you were before that faithful night, but with one drastic change.

Almost every encounter since that night ended with you in his bed or the other way around. Hours and hours spend in each other’s embrace, touching and feeling too much, all at once.

And said feelings were what made you finally decide that you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t continue sharing with him this intimacy, pretending that everything between you remained unchanged. You couldn’t do this anymore, knowing that it was all that you’ll ever get from him, despite being in love with him for so long.

You knew that he would never reciprocate your feelings. You knew that from the beginning, from the very first touch of your fingertips that night, but you foolishly thought that having him close for as long as he wanted you, would be enough for you. Even if he wanted you only for your body, because you were the easiest choice.

However, your heart was breaking every time you were reminded of one significant fact, a harsh reality that felt like a bucket of cold water in your face.

He will never love you. Because you were not her.

And you would never be.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

You already had a strategy to end the arrangement. You wanted to take it slow, step by step, with just a bit of pain on your side. You knew it wasn't your best plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. You wanted to end the friends-with-benefits arrangement in a way that would make you both slowly, almost naturally, drift apart—so subtly that he wouldn't even notice the change. As for you, you were ready to bear the painful consequences of your actions, if it saved you from the excruciating pain of a broken heart later.

You started with avoiding his kisses.

And it turned out to be a tough job to do, because you didn’t realize before how much of a kisser Xavier became during your friends-with-benefits situation. It never really bothered you before, you always accepted every single kiss with content. However, during your last meeting, you were trying so hard to avoid his lips, and noticed that he made it into an almost impossible task.

When you went out one night, he wanted to kiss you three times during hot pot, even though you were sitting across from each other. You thought that the sitting situation was enough of an obstacle, but you quickly learned that he always somehow managed to find a chance to try to steal a kiss. That not only bewildered you, but also made you blush so hard that you had to blame the spicy food for it to not look suspicious. Yet, you managed to stay your ground and ignored his needy attempts at capturing your lips.

You also avoided his lips while you were later watching a movie in his apartment, by pretending that you didn’t see or feel his constant gaze on you. You thought that maybe if he saw that the movie engaged you so much, he would finally drop the attempts. Unfortunately, your plan failed the moment his patience thinned, when he started kissing your neck while cradling your body to his. He was grabbing at you almost desperately and you really couldn’t escape from every single kiss he was giving you, no matter how much you tried to. And you really tried to.

“Why—why are you turning your face away? A-Ah… Let me look at y-you—mmm.” He said between his moans, and he never once stopped thrusting inside you. It was the day when he took you on a sofa between his soft, plushy pillows with the movie still playing in the background. Your legs were laying on his shoulder, his both hands holding onto them tightly while his hips thrusted deep inside you, making you gasp in pleasure. When you didn’t respond and kept your head away, hoping that he would finally stop with his relentless kisses, his hand gently grabbed your face and turned it towards his so that your eyes met. He smiled softly, his cheeks pink and face damp. “Yes, there you are. You feel good? You wanna break?” He almost slurred and you adored how quickly he was loosing himself with you, how much he was loosing his composure. When you squeezed your eyes, moaning at a harder thrust and shook your head no, he whimpered. Next thing you knew, he lowered your legs onto the sofa and layed between them, bringing his body closer to yours. Your chests touched and you could feel his rapid heartbeat, mirroring the rhythm of your own. He nudged your head, which was still turned to the side, with his nose.

“Give me a kiss, c’mon, starlight.” He kissed your cheek, slowing down his thrusts to a lazy, delicate ones. “I couldn’t get a kiss all day, I need it. Let me.” And when you saw his eyes, full of desperation and something that reminded you of adoration, you couldn’t keep denying him. Your lips touched his and he didn’t let go of them until you came, and later when he began growling straight into your mouth, chasing his own undoing.

It was the last time you met up, and after that you decided that you had to cut it off completely. You couldn’t continue being with him like this, not when you knew that he already loved someone else. Being with him this close messed with your head. You didn’t want to feel like a convenient second choice and you couldn’t help but feel that your meetings were slowly becoming more and more intimate. You had to constantly remind yourself that you weren’t together. You made sure to label the change in your relationship properly at the start of the arrangement — still on friendly terms, with occasional mutual pleasure. But the close proximity and constant intimacy started to make the lines blurry in your mind.

And your heart couldn’t take it anymore, it hurt every time you reminded yourself that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, and that he never will.

After that movie night you decided that the next step to your goal would be to stop engaging in small talk with him, especially the one that occurred at work.

You worked together at the Hunter’s Association, he was one of the best Hunters out there, and you specialized in weapon modification from the safety of your own desk. You wanted to be a hunter once, but with your Evol involving micromodification you guessed that you could be needed in a position that involved working with weaponry. After working there for years, you were passionate about your work and elated to have a job you loved and where you thrived while helping others to the best of your abilities.

Thus, because of the shared place of employment, you saw Xavier almost every day. He was often near your desk, passing by it, putting snacks before you or teasing you with that soft smile of his. So cutting the contact out there was one of the toughest jobs for you, but it had to be done.

When you knew that he would be free, you found a task that needed completion in other departments, so that you will not cross paths. Often, instead of others coming to you to fix their weapons, you proposed to make the trip instead. In this way you were always quick on your feet, going from department to department, back to the workshop and again to the others’ desks. You didn’t mind the extra activity, it made you think less about your breaking heart.

And when Xavier managed to catch you from time to time, because he always somehow would, you were trying to appear too busy even for a small conversation.

“Where are you rushing off to again? I didn’t manage to talk to you these past few days.” He said one day when he caught you by your elbow while you were going out of the bathroom. He must’ve seen you go in there and wait for you to come out. He brought you a little closer to himself and looked at your face so intently, that you got scared he could see right through you.

“Sorry Xai, I’m just really busy lately.” You answered, maybe too quickly, and were trying to calm your beating heart upon seeing him so close again. Too close. It didn’t help that he was in his hunter’s uniform, that made him look twice as dreamy. You were so close that you could also smell his comforting scent and see the small scar on his cheek that he got last year after you two tried ice skating for the first time.

The first and the last, for it appeared that you were much better at it than he would ever be, and you wanted to avoid him getting hurt again. It was also before your friends-with-benefits situation, when your friendship was pure and healthy. Your heart squeezed remembering how he grabbed your hand then, and how tightly he used to hold it throughout the whole activity.

“Xavier, are you sure you don’t want to go back home already? I’m afraid that your cut will scar if we leave it like that.” You said, looking at the bandaid on his cheek, the only remedy for his small injury that you could provide at that time.

He squeezed your hand and still appeared sheepish after his fall. You secretly found him adorable, you never saw him doing something in which he didn’t excel in. It was as if he let you see a part of himself that no one had ever seen before. That thought made your chest warmer.

“No. I won’t let the ice defeat me.” He said surely and you knew that he won’t give up, even if his legs already visibly trembled from exhaustion. You let out a sigh. “Besides, you’re holding my hand now, so I feel much safer.” He looked at you, his voice soft and cheeks red, most likely from the cold air. Seeing him in such a vulnerable state made you completely overcome by the feeling of tenderness, and you send him a huge smile, thinking that it was the first time he relied on your protection, and not the other way around.

Little did you know that this smile would catch him by surprise so much that he slipped backwards, this time pulling you down with him. However, your reflexes slightly worked, because you managed to put your hand behind his head, shielding it from the impact with ice. You landed on him with a groan as his hands moved to pull your body closer.

“Oh god, Xai, are you okay? How did that happen?” You asked him, trying to lift yourself off of him. You felt him relax his head further into your hand, and when you raised yourself enough to face him directly, he sent you a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. This sight made your heart melt.

“See, I knew you would protect me.” He replied, clearly referring to your hand behind his head. “My little savior.” He called you, and when you puffed the air out, annoyed that he could have hurt himself for real this time, his smile turned into a full laugh, his body shaking under yours. He looked so angelic, covered in snow, laughing in a way that was so scarce that you couldn’t help but join him in his moment of happiness.

And thanks to your mittens, your hand was left with only a purple bruise from the impact. Still, Xavier couldn’t let you forget about it up to the day it disappeared completely, expressing guilt for the minor injury, his sight chasing your hand every time it appeared in his line of vision. He often caressed it softly with his fingers, looking at it with a mysteriously thoughtful expression, whispering “My little savior.” under his breath. It made you wish that the bruise would never disappear.

You took a step back, suddenly overwhelmed by the memories and the closeness between you. He always invaded your personal space, stood so close that you could almost feel his breath on your face. This time, you had had to cut it out for your own good.

“S’okay. You’re always busy but I guess I just got used to meeting you near your desk. Just text me after work? Maybe we could meet up for our book club today.” He said and you swallowed the awful feeling of longing in your chest. Book club was the term you came up with when you both just wanted to sit and read together for hours. Unfortunately, you knew how book club sessions looked like since the beginning of your friends-with-benefits arrangement.

You were sitting together in silence, reading for hours, then talked about your books until you both lost your breaths. A wonderful experience, you adored your little reading sessions, but you knew that recently they always ended with his lips on yours, and with your clothes scattered around his bedroom.

You couldn’t let this go on forever. You couldn’t go back to being just friends now, and you couldn’t keep him so close, knowing that he will never fully be yours. You pitied your poor heart.

“Sure, will do. See you around!” You were aware how awkward you sounded, but before he could stop you, you were already off to your another task of the day.

You didn’t text him after work, and neither did you reply to his message in time. The next day you send him an excuse that you were tired and fell asleep quickly, and you hoped that he believed it or didn’t care enough to question you further.

If the distance hurt you this bad now, you couldn’t even imagine how would it feel when he eventually would’ve left you for her.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

The next stage of your plan involved not answering his texts at all. You allowed yourself small replies from time to time, most often very brief, if the situation called for it. Replying excuses from left to right. Then, you incorporated not picking up his calls, especially on weekends, when he appeared to want to see you the most, because you were absent from the Association building and he couldn’t catch even a glimpse of you.

The distance you yourself put between you broke your heart, and you were getting more and more depressed by the day. Ignoring the person you loved wasn’t easy, when he was the one with whom you wanted to spend your time the most.

To distract yourself from the situation, you were trying to pass your time differently. You were meeting up with your family and friends, or you started doing things that you were putting off for ages. Everything and anything to fill the void in your heart caused by the absence of the one you loved. The absence forced by you.

It had to be done, you reminded yourself daily. You had to end this somehow, no matter how it hurt you. You had to move on. You couldn’t still be in love with him the day he would end up with MC. You knew it would ruin you.

Three weeks passed since your last meeting at the Association and you could feel that Xavier was getting impatient. His calls were more frequent. His messages longer. Sometimes while running away from him at work you could catch how he was scanning the room in search of you. How frustrated he seemed to be. How upset.

You understood it. You were best friends after all, and he also probably needed someone near him to help him get his head clear of MC. You knew that it must’ve been hard for him. But you were sure you were doing the right thing, that’s why you kept avoiding him during the past month, and not only it was the longest period you’ve been away from each other since the start of your complicated arrangement, but also the longest time since the start of your friendship. Even when the times were rough, you managed to see each other at least once or twice a week.

You felt the pain of the distance too. Missing him almost every second of the day. But you had your reasons. You didn’t want to try to satiate the hunger he felt for another woman anymore.

So every time his name appeared on your phone screen, along with the picture of him shoving two muffins into his mouth at the same time, you closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and waited out the signal, simultaneously praying for and dreading the silence.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

On a quiet rainy day, after a month of ignoring almost every attempt to make contact from Xavier, you heard your phone ping thrice. You sighed and put the book you were reading down, deciding that it was a good moment to reply something short to him in order to slightly ease his worries, and make him feel less alarmed. You wanted distance, but you still sticked to responding from time to time, to appear casual. To let the connection break off less abruptly.

xavier: why cant I see U at all recently.

xavier: why are U not picking up my calls and not replying to my texts.

xavier: are U hiding from me?

you: Of course not, just busy.

xavier: busy for me but not busy for others I know U are going out all the time.

xavier: are U mad at me? did I do something wrong.

you: No, you didn’t, don’t worry. It’s just me. I have a lot of things on my mind recently.

xavier: could U please have me on Ur mind too? I miss U.

xavier: so bad it hurts

You let out a rugged breath, and decided to stop responding, but then another text came. This time, making your blood run cold.

xavier: going back from a rough mission right now i think i need help.

you: Oh my god, are you okay? Are you injured?

xavier: cant tell U why dont you come and see me for Urself.

you: Fine, I need to see if you’re okay. Do you need anything? Food? Medicine? I will pick something up on my way there.

xavier: i just need U

You closed your eyes and hid your face in your palms, then swore it would be the last time. You will go in, treat his wounds and go out. It had to be the last time you allowed yourself to be this close to him, and then you had to cut him off completely. A month wasn’t enough to heal your broken heart, and these small sightings won’t make your heart feel any less burdened.

It had to end today.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

When the door opened, he managed to take your breath away once more.

First, only figuratively. His beauty always managed to amaze you. He looked so handsome no matter the circumstances, his hair so fluffy and shiny, his face like that of an angel, with sharp jawline and soft, pink lips almost screaming at you to be kissed. When you met his eyes, you almost gasped at the intensity of his deep blue gaze. There wasn’t a thing about him you didn’t miss terribly after so much time apart.

Then, literally, when the first thing he did was grabbing your hand and hugging you tightly to his chest, that was still clothed in his hunter uniform. He pressed his face into the crown of your hair and touched the nape of your neck, holding it gently with his cold hand.

“Was the mission that difficult?” You asked, thinking that his reaction to you was mostly due to his need for someone else’s closeness. The need for security. “Were you in danger?” You asked quietly, fear bubbling in your mind.

“No. I lied.” He murmured and you felt him squeezing you even harder, inhaling your scent with content. His hand started stroking your back, slowly making its way under your thin coat. “Didn’t know what else to say to make you come see me.” He said and you hoped that he couldn’t hear, nor feel the sound of your erratic heartbeat.

He shouldn’t say things like these, it made you feel too hopeful. You tried to push that feeling down, knowing that’s how he normally acted with you, his best friend. You knew that he didn’t have a lot of people beside him, thus he treasured the ones that stayed. And that thought made you so incredibly apologetic that you had to swallow the tension in your throat. You hated that you fell for him so hard. You hated that you had to leave him because of it. You hated that you knew, that he would blame himself when you’ll leave.

And you started to hate yourself the most because of all of it.

“Did you miss me that much?” You teased, trying to calm yourself with a friendly banter.

“Yes.” The answer was immediate. The kiss he placed on your temple as natural as breathing. “Everything and everyone seems to be taking you away from me these days.” He said and you could hear him sulking. Your heart squeezed again, but you knew that you were doing the right thing. The distance was necessary.

Necessary for you to avoid breaking. You had to protect yourself first, you decided. You couldn’t remain in love with him forever. You had to move on and in order to do that you had to keep the distance. Which was impossible with him around, when he craved physical touch so badly.

You started to be so mad at yourself for breaking your streak today. You didn’t realize how touchy he will be after some time apart and it was getting to your head. You were so conflicted. You felt too much, and that was always the case when you were around him.

He was in love with someone else. Your head was screaming loudly, trying to calm the wave of unwanted emotions.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. I love you, you thought. “But now I’m here, so maybe I can inspect you for any injuries? You always seem to neglect them as long as they don’t make you bleed out.” You managed to free yourself from his hold and missed how his hands went after you for a second. He didn’t want you to put distance between you two. Not yet, not ever.

He looked into your beautiful, shiny eyes and nodded without a thought. He couldn’t say no to you, not when he saw the still remaining hint of worry in them. Besides, checking for injuries always came with physical contact, and he was so starved. He needed to feel your body close to his. Your hands on him, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere. He felt addicted and craved some kind of relief. He looked after you like a lost puppy, following your footsteps closely, touching the familiar material of your coat that you left on a counter. The distance this past month made him feral, every part of his body screamed to hold you and don’t let go.

You sat down on his couch, and patted the place next to you, hinting at him to sit beside you. He was trying not to appear too eager while doing so, and also when he started taking off the upper part of his uniform. He was almost shaking with excitement knowing that you really came to see him. That you were worried about him. The distance was making him sick. Furious. Desperate. Hurt.

He suppressed a shudder when you touched his shoulder and peeled away the material off his back completely. Your hands were pleasantly warm, as always. He bit his lip trying not to gasp from the contact.

He needed more.

“Xavier.” He hummed, giddy inside upon finally hearing his name from your lips. He was bracing for your outburst. Couldn’t wait for it. “You said you lied about the mission being hard, while having a fucking gash on your back? I-I can’t believe you...” He heard your angry, shaky voice and smirked unintentionally. You were worried about him and he liked that. He liked the attention, when it was coming from you.

Yet, you didn’t know that.

You cursed under your breath and went to grab the first aid kit from one of his drawers, and proceeded to patch the man back up, having no idea that he allowed the Wanderer to injure him, to have an excuse to see you. To keep you with him for a minute longer, even if it was only under the pretense of tending to his injuries. He was ready to do anything at this point to keep you from slipping away from his grasp.

If you knew that, you wouldn’t be so adamant on distancing yourself.

But because you didn’t know, you also didn’t predict that after patching him up, he would propose you to eat dinner with him, making up an excuse that he didn’t want to be alone with his pain. Later, when you wanted to come back to your place, he mentioned he wanted to play kitty cards, the game you adored. You couldn’t refuse him.

During the next hours you spent at his place you both talked in the same way you always used to - about everything and anything, exchanging opinions, stories and everyday thoughts. You laughed together for the first time in weeks, and your cheeks hurt from how much he was able to make you smile. You always had so much fun with him, he was your favorite person in the whole world. You missed him so bad, despite knowing that you couldn’t back out from your plan fully. Yet, you allowed yourself a little break, telling yourself that it was in order for your distancing to not look suspicious. In addition, he was injured, and you felt the need to comfort him in any way you could. The gash on his back wasn’t that deep, but it worried you regardless.

The atmosphere changed drastically only when he managed to win the next round of kitty cards. You jokingly frowned at him, forging displeasure, and he looked directly at your pounting lips. The time seemed to stop when you noticed that look. He raised his hand to touch your collarbone, caressing it with his fingers, up to your neck and over your cheek. He looked deeply into your eyes, and you noticed how dark his became. You found it fascinating that his soft gaze could change so drastically in a matter of seconds.

His hand reached out to grab your chin and brought your face closer to his. And when he whispered: “Could I ask for a reward?” with that dangerous, needy voice of his, you knew that you couldn’t deny him anything.

When your lips touched, you decided that it will be the last time you let it happen. It would be your goodbye, before loosing the feel of his touch. You thought that you could at least make the best of it, get lost in the artificial feeling of being treasured for the last time, before you started the last phase of your plan.

After that, you had to cut off the ties with him completely. No matter the measures. No matter the pain.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Xavier, m-maybe not today?” You asked when you realized how low he was going with his kisses. You knew what he was about to do, and you hated how much you couldn’t contain the sounds that were coming out of your mouth when he was doing it. Besides, it didn’t feel like a mutual pleasure anymore, it felt like an act of service and you were not sure you wanted him to pleasure only you.

He looked at you, having already dropped to his knees. He looked ruined, his hair already a mess from the touch of your fingers, lips wet and swollen, shirt off displaying his toned chest, bandaged in the center with caution. He was practically heaving. The sight made you blush.

“Why not?” He voice sounded whiny, his lips already kissing the inside of your thigh as if he couldn’t restrain himself. Every kiss send electricity to your already wet core and you found it hard to think clearly. His hands were grabbing your tights possessively, relishing in their softness. “Please, let me eat you out. I’ll make you feel good, I promise.” The pleading in his eyes was so apparent. So unfiltered.

“Don’t you want to get to the point already?” You offered shyly and he huffed out a laugh.

“Where are you trying to run off to this time?” It sounded like a joke, but he appeared annoyed. “Relax, starlight and let me take care of you. Please.” You still hesitated. It made him pout. “I need it, please, star. I want to taste you so bad. I didn’t manage to last time.” He kissed your knee and put his head on it, looking for the answer in your unsure eyes. “Will you let me?” His pleading tone, along with his desperate gaze was what made you break. You whispered a soft confirmation and it was all it took before he quickly put his mouth on your core, licking vigorously, devouring you like the most delicious thing on the planet.

“Mmmm.” You heard him humming, before your own cries, along with the constant tremble of your legs, drowned out any other sound.

He was elated.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

“Mmmh— Yes. Yes. H—holy—” He whimpered at the same time with his thrusts and squeezed your waist harder, moving his hands up and down your back, caressing it affectionately. “You are s-so warm, so beautiful, fuck—” He moaned when you tightened on him. You stiffed a whimper and tried to commit to memory the touch of his strong hands.

He was taking you slowly from behind and the pace was almost unbearable for you. You needed more, and you couldn’t stand how romantic it felt when he was this gentle with you. However, at the same time you didn’t want him to strain himself, you were aware that the slow pace was reasonable due to the injury on his back. The slow pace did surprise you either way, you thought that after so much time apart he would be quick and rough, chasing his pleasure faster than he normally would. Instead, he acted even more passionately than usual.

The slow pace brought you so much pleasure that you couldn’t contain the sounds escaping from your lips. He kept pressing your most sensitive spots, his thrusts slow, deep and precise. His forehead rest on the back of your shoulder, and you could feel his hot, labored breath pressing against your damp skin.

He made you feel so appreciated, and so cared for, and that made you uneasy. More so, with the accompaniment of the things he was constantly saying to you, from the moment you allowed him to touch you today.

“Can you turn around now? Please, my star, I want to see you.” He half-whispered and started kissing your neck, then moving his mouth to every patch of your skin he could reach: your shoulders, back, arms. No place was left unkissed under his relentless lips. You shook your head no, you didn’t want to let this become even more passionate than it already was. You positioned yourself facing the headboard of the bed from the very beginning, and you were adamant to keep your stance up until the end. You feared that your eyes would betray you, displaying your feelings for him and that was what made you not lose your composure.

Upon hearing your refusal for the third time this night, he proceeded to voice his frustrations by grunting, and thrust into you a little harder. You moaned loudly, surprised at the sudden change of tempo.

“Please, starlight.” He begged, his voice achingly earnest. He picked up the pace and you almost choked with how deep he reached inside of you now. You thought that you could never get used to how big he was, his girth filling you up to the brim. “Turn around. T-turn around for me.”

“X-xavier slow down, I don’t want you to get hurt—” You managed to choke out, grasping sheets with your hands for some kind of stability. You closed your eyes when they were turning upwards, biting your lip in the process. He felt otherworldly, but you couldn’t help but think about the gash on his back. He shouldn’t strain himself.

“Then turn around and look at me.” He repeated and you shook your head again.

“I-I can’t, I—Ah—”

“W-why do you keep—Mmh—denying me?” His voice came out like a growl and he kept up the fast tempo. Then, he grabbed your shoulder and put his other hand on your lower back, making you bend over more. His thrusts got even faster, making you moan louder. “Like that. Yes.” You breathed quietly. So good. He was so, so good. “I just want to see your face. I need to kiss y—A—Ah—Kiss you so bad, so, so, so bad.” He thrusted more deeply, making you involuntarily back out from the stimulation, your body almost collapsing, but he quickly grabbed you with his strong arms, and brought you even closer to him. You saw stars and touched one of the arms that held your whole body — from your waist, between your breasts, to your neck. His arm was so hard, so strong. He was huge compared to you. “No, n-no, don’t run away, star. You feel so good—G-God how I missed this—” He held you closer by the second, pressing more kisses to your shoulders, his thrusts becoming quicker, less deep. You were holding back your tears from how good he felt inside you. “I missed you. I missed you. I miss you.” He started babbling and that’s how you knew he was close.

To your surprise, he suddenly pulled out of you completely and grabbed you by your shoulders, turning you around to finally face him. Before you could show any signs of protest, he lowered himself onto his forearms, caging your head between his biceps so that he could have a perfect view of your face. He took his cock in one of his hands and he slipped himself into you again with ease. You shuddered and cried out softly with astonishment.

“Xavier—!”

“Yes. Yes, that’s my name.” He started thrusting into you again, this time much slower and more attentive, and looked deep into your eyes. You had nowhere to run, the only thing you could do was to close your eyes, but the sight of him so close made you want to never look away. “Say it one more time. Just once.” He looked ethereal, his silver hair wet from the perspiration that gathered oh his forehead, and his cheeks painted a pretty shade of red. You could see how blissful he felt. “So p-pretty.” He finally kissed your lips softly. “So sweet.” He licked into your mouth, deepening the kiss. It made your toes curl, you loved when he kissed you this sloppily. When he released your already swollen lips, there was a string of saliva connecting you. It was all so intense.

“Why were you denying my kisses?” He kissed you again deeply, sucking on your tongue. His slow thrusts made you go insane. “You don’t like kissing me like this?” He sucked on your lips until they were red and swollen. There was so much saliva. He licked them and kissed them again. “I could come from this feeling alone. So soft.” You were shocked at how much he talked. Was he always this talkative? Or were you realizing it only now, when you knew that the closeness with him would soon come to an end?

“Am I making you feel good? Yeah?” You decided to nod at him truthfully, your moans short, resembling small hiccups. You were lost in the pleasure, you could feel the end approaching. He put his forehead against yours, breathing heavily. “W—wow, you—you sound so adorable, I won’t last long—” He moaned and grabbed your face in his hands, kissing your nose first, then softly your lips.

“Yes, yeah, let go. Let go my little star. My starlight, my treasure.” He whispered into your ear, feeling you clench down on him as you came with his name on your lips. You felt him reaching the end quickly after you, he shuddered, his mouth opened, and he released into the condom with a low moan. Still cumming, he took your face into his hands and kissed your forehead gently. When you both were still coming down from the high, breathing heavily, he began stroking your hair, pushing it out of your face, and kissing your cheeks.

What in the world was all that?

God, you couldn’t do this anymore. You couldn’t let this keep up, it felt too real, too romantic, and your heart really couldn’t take it. Not when every time you were together like this you keep thinking that he would like you to be someone else instead. Did he imagined her under him this time? You trembled, scared because of that thought, but the things he was saying made you feel that it really could be the case.

Your breath came out shakily and you took his muscular forearms in your palms and grazed them gently with your thumbs. You let yourself feel for the last time how warm his body was, how pleasurable his weight on top of you. You kept your eyes closed to not let him see your tears, but you couldn’t stop one from going down your cheek.

And of course he saw it as soon as it appeared. He seemed to always look at you when you wanted him to ignore you the most.

He kissed it off, swiped the wetness with his thumb and proceeded to kiss your temple.

“Why are you crying?” He asked softly, his eyebrows furrowed. “Did I hurt you?” He appeared so concerned, and you felt the shivers going down your spine.

Yes, you wanted to scream.

“No, of course not.” You said instead. Because it was your fault for feeling too much. “I’m okay, just tired.” You lied straight to his face. He send you a small smile and kissed your closed eyelids gently.

And when he shifted and pulled out from you slowly with a little hiss, you let out a sigh and knew that your time with him had to end now.

But before you could lift yourself up, he hugged you from the side and put his head on your chest. He was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, and you already knew that it had a soothing effect on him. His hand started caressing one side of your waist, his hair touching your chin, his scent overlapping you. You could feel his heartbeat on you, fast but steady. Another tear escaped from your eyes. You had to run away. You couldn’t take the closeness anymore. It was too painful.

“Xavier, I—” You swallowed the sob forming in your throat. Your voice came out rusty. “I really need to go.”

“Already? Stay with me for a little while longer.” He squeezed you harder to himself, showing no intention of releasing you from his hold. You hated that you needed to cut short such a vulnerable moment with him. “The night is still young. I thought we could maybe watch something together? Or bake these cinnamon cookies you like? I practiced, they taste and look almost perfect now.” You closed your eyes hard, moved by his thoughtfulness, and you almost sobbed audibly if it wasn’t for your hand quickly covering your mouth.

But he felt it, and it made all the muscles in his body tighten, as if he was struck.

“Star?” He loosed his hold on you and quickly studied your face. “What’s wrong?�� His eyes became huge, filled with worry. And that concern on his features was what finally made you run.

You raised gently and pushed yourself from him, starting to pick up your scattered pieces of clothing. Your hands shakily put the panties and your sweater on your trembling body, not once looking Xavier’s way. He was waiting patiently for your answer.

“I can’t do this anymore, Xavier.” You replied, feeling more comfortable now that you had some clothes on. You couldn’t meet his eyes, but you heard him standing up from the bed.

“Do what?” He sounded puzzled. You heard him grabbing and putting on some pants hastily, clicking his belt in place. As if he was preparing to run after you. “Did I do something wrong? You didn’t like it today? Was I too intense?” You had never heard him speak so quickly, and the panic in his tone was a rare occurrence too.

“No, it’s— I am at fault here.” You answered truthfully, and you took a couple steps away from him. You wanted to run as fast as you could but for the love of God, you couldn’t locate any other pieces of your clothing. Your eyesight was clouded by unleashed tears. No, not now, you couldn’t let them fall until you were in the safety of your home.

“But you were perfect.” His voice carried more panic by the second. “We could change some things. You could tell me what to do differently, everything works with me as long as I do it with you.”

You suddenly remembered the beginning of your night, and rushed to his living room, were you finally found your pants.

“No. No, and please stop trying to persuade me. This—this friends with benefits thing, it ends now.” You uttered surely, now fully clothed. You turned around and finally laid your eyes on him, and saw him wearing only black jeans and a miserable expression on his face. God, he still looked perfect. He almost shined, the workout clearly visible on his face, his hair, his lips. Your resolution almost wavered.

“Okay. Okay, of course, I—I understand.” He answered quickly, and you felt a slight pang in your chest at how easily he took the news. This whole time you were so easily disposable. “But please stay. I want to spend some time with you, I haven’t seen you in such a long time.” He took a careful step towards you, and you wanted to bolt then and there. “Please, stay.”

“No, Xai, I—” You paused to take a breath, trying not to crumble in front of him. His worried expression felt like a knife to your chest. You were his best friend, yet here you were, clearly wanting to run away from him—how could you expect him to feel anything but hurt upon such a sight? You felt incredibly cruel. “I really can’t. I think I need a break from all—all of this.”

“You mean from me?” He didn’t wait for your answer, the thoughts in his head seemed to go quicker than lightning. “No, please, I swear that if you don’t like it then I won’t touch you anymore. I swear.” You hated how upset he sounded. You closed your eyes for a second and fresh tears slipped away. You couldn’t keep them from falling anymore. “You know how much you mean to me. Don’t make me stay away.” He looked as if you were tearing his heart out, his posture slumped, hands shaking. How you wished you could take them into your own and warm them up.

“I have to.” Your voice came out whiny. He stepped closer to you, keeping his arms in front of himself.

“But why?” His question was quiet, nearly a whisper. He couldn’t help but wonder, if you really wanted a break from him, then why were you crying as if you didn’t want to go?

“I—” You stopped yourself before going as far as to utter a confession. He couldn’t know. Not now. Not ever. “This— This situation, and how our friendship looks like right now it’s—it’s so wrong.” You opted for a response that was the closest to the truth.

“It’s not.” He replied immediately. “Not for me.”

“Well it is for me. Friends don’t sleep with each other, Xavier! We messed up so bad this time and I’m afraid we can’t let this past us.”

“Do you regret it that much?” His voice was losing its’ strength, and he seemed so utterly hurt. Meanwhile, you were just trying to protect yourself from feeling even more pain. How could you make him understand without confessing to him? You didn’t really know because you were always honest with him before. He was your safe place.

And to think that everything could be avoided, your friendship left unscratched if only you could control your feelings better. But you had no idea how to stop loving him so deeply, when he was everything that you’ve ever dreamed of.

“I should. I know that I should, it was never going to end well, I—”

“Stay. Please, starlight, stay. At least for one more night, let me hold you just for one more—” His arms went out to grab you and you flinched, taking a few steps back. His jaw tightened.

He was always afraid that he will see you run away from his touch. He felt as if his nightmare became reality - the thought of loosing you too much for him to bear.

“Xavier, I can’t!” You trembled all over. Why did he make this so hard for you? “I can’t do this with you anymore, can’t you understand how much it hurts me?” The truth was at the tip of your tongue, craving to be spoken out loud.

“Why? Why does it hurt you? The only one who has a good reason to be hurt is me, you avoided me, ignored me, and for what? If you just talked to me honestly one time—”

“You are in love with someone else!”

The silence that followed was unbearable and seemed to last ages. Slow ticking of the clock was the only thing cutting through the tension, reminding you that the time didn’t stop, even if your heart seemed to do so.

You turned to him, the tears falling from your eyes in cascades now and your chest was coming up and down rapidly with how fast you were breathing.

The tears run down your cheeks quickly, making your vision less blurry. How you wished that they stayed in place, if that meant that you wouldn’t have to see Xavier’s pained expression, that quickly changed into one of utter confusion. You were shaking with how much you were feeling, your frustration pooling out of you in a form of shaking hands and bitten lips.

“I can’t continue being like this with you when I know that you’re in love with her! And I get it! I really do. She’s so wonderful, and so, so lovable. And I could never be her, no matter how much you would want me to be. I just don’t want to be a replacement anymore.” You continued, the desperation in your voice almost making you wince. You sounded pathetic and felt so embarrassed for it. You felt as if you were loosing the ground beneath your feet.

“What?” He said completely stunned. He wasn’t moving a single muscle. “What on earth are you talking about?” He hissed, and took a step towards you, and when you shook your head and wanted to bolt through the door, he quickly grabbed you by your wrist and pressed your body close to his. You gasped at the contact, so sudden and forced. “No, stop running away from me!” He raised his voice, still holding your wrist tightly. You’ve never heard him sound so irritated. “Speak.” You kept your head low, when he was desperately trying to catch eye contact, but you couldn’t look at him right now. Not when your true feelings were basically flowing to the surface.

“About what? You really thought I didn’t know about your feelings for her?” You struggled to keep your voice from shaking. “Xavier, I know, and I knew from the very beginning, and you really don’t have to explain yourself to me. I really understand.” You tried to free your wrist from his grasp, but he held it too tightly. You needed to run, this conversation wasn’t supposed to happen, you didn’t even have a reason to be mad at him. You couldn’t blame him for not loving you romantically, nor for feeling this way towards someone else. You were only friends, and friends should be happy for each other when they find someone dear to them, not sick of the idea of loosing the other to someone else.

“I’m afraid you actually don’t understand anything.” He sounded almost defeated. His voice back to it’s soft tone, but his hold on you unrelenting.

“It’s really okay, I—”

“No.” He scoffed. You finally gained enough courage to let your eyes meet his and you were instantly appalled at how furious he appeared to be. “It’s truly NOT.” He released your wrist and put his hands up to stroke his hair back. He breathed out loudly. “Who the fuck are you talking about?” He asked, confusion and irritation taking over his features completely. You never saw him wear that expression while talking with you.

“Oh, don’t make me—” You cut off, seeing his furious glare. You took a deep breath, stepped back from him and touched your cheek, trying to swipe the wetness caused by your tears. You failed, they were still coming down, one by one, making your efforts futile. “MC. You know that I mean MC.”

“You have to be fucking kidding me.” He groaned and let his head fall back. He covered his face with his hands for a second, and when he looked at you again, you couldn’t read his expression correctly. “Who told you about it? Where did you get it from?”

“Jeremiah.” That’s all he needed to know. And apparently it was enough for him to grasp the situation. He laughed humorlessly and shook his head, his hands squeezed tightly into fists by his sides.

“I will strangle him this time. I swear, I will—”

“Oh, please, Xavier, stop! What’s so wrong about me knowing? I was glad that someone finally enlightened me!” You couldn’t believe that he was so angry at you for knowing such an important thing. Not when from the moment Jeremiah said that he had a thing for MC for a long time, you wondered why he kept that a secret from you. “You never even said a word about it even though I thought we were best friends. I had to learn from someone else and that already hurt.” You wanted this conversation to be over. You wanted him to admit to it already and let you go away, with a broken, but at least free heart.

But he had different plans.

“Have you maybe thought that I never said a word about it simply because it wasn’t true?” He asked carefully, his voice still angry. “I just can’t believe you thought that I loved someone else—”

“What?” Your mind went blank. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts. “What do you mean it’s not true?” You sniffed quietly, confusion taking over your face.“B-But Jeremiah said that you had a past with her and—”

“I did. I had feelings for her once, but that was literal lifetimes ago!” His irritation didn’t ease in the slightest. “I had feelings for someone who looked similar to her. But she’s not the same person anymore, and even if she was I couldn’t possibly fall in love with her. Not now, not ever.” You stopped in your tracks, trying to analyze everything he was saying to you and failing miserably at it. You looked at his face, your expression puzzled, searching for an answer there, hidden between his beautiful, soft features. It shocked you to see that now he started to calm himself down, gaze genuine, an image of complete transparency.

You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea that you were mistaken. All this time, when you thought you never stood a chance, when you thought that he loved another, when you wanted to let him go—

“You’re not in love with MC.” It wasn’t a question anymore, your voice quiet while you were trying to process that thought. He must’ve seen how you fought with the thoughts inside your head, because he released a groan and took a step towards you. You unintentionally took one step back. He frowned.

“Of course I’m not.” Voice sweet like honey, stance sure, his eyes searched desperately for yours. He looked at your face, covered in tears and his eyebrows furrowed deeper, hating how upset you seemed and didn’t know how to reverse it. “How could I ever be, when your face is all I can see, every time I close my eyes?” He uttered looking at you with such devotion that it almost made your knees buckle.

Complete silence took over your thoughts after his confession. You didn’t know what was happening.

But fortunately, his mind finally started to piece everything together in a picture, that although was beyond frustrating to think about, was giving him so much hope for something he thought he already lost.

He allowed himself to relax, took a deep breath and finally decided to drop his inner shackles, letting his emotions flow out of him without restraint.

“You are the one that I love.” He said clearly, not moving a muscle. He wondered if you could see the quick movement of his chest, with how hard his heart was trying to escape through it to reach you. Whereas, you felt as if yours stopped moving completely, along with the time around you, not ready to believe that this was truly happening. “It was you from the very beginning. I adored you since the day I first saw you.” He continued, his gaze piercing into your face, slight confusion visible on his features. “And I thought that was obvious? I wasn’t exactly the best at hiding my feelings, especially after I told you about them the first night we spend together.”

You blinked slowly. Once, then twice.

Your head hurt. You couldn’t wrap it around everything he was saying. Xavier was in love with you? And he already told you about it? You were so confused that the only way you knew how to react was with denial.

“You—You didn’t. I didn’t know, you are not being serious.” He shook his head in disbelief.

“I did. You really don’t remember?” His tone softened, and he waited a short second for your answer, but couldn’t contain his nerves. “It was the night I kissed you for the first time, thinking that would be the last. But you reciprocated.” His eyes gleamed in the moonlight, and you found yourself holding your breath, afraid even the slightest sound might interrupt the flow of his confession.

“You—You kissed me back, and let me do things to you I only ever dared to dream about before.” He took another step your way, a small smile grazing his handsome face. “And the confession slipped out of me so naturally before we even reached the bed.” He briefly recalled that fateful night, describing the conversations you forgot, but longed to remember since that very moment.

“You didn’t reply, but you responded nicely to my touch, so I thought that meant that you wanted me too, that maybe you’d accept me. As your beloved. Your soulmate.” You brought your hand to cover your mouth. You couldn’t believe it. “But then in the morning when you woke up, you were panicking. I tried to reassure you, but you weren’t listening to me.”

That part of the story you knew by heart, him telling you that he couldn’t forget, didn’t want to forget. Back then you didn’t connect it with anything close to confession, but more with the change in your relationship. You really didn’t want to jump to any conclusions, you didn’t even dream about him loving you, when you though that he loved MC. Insecurities and false assumptions completely clouded your vision.

“And when you proposed staying friends, with the bonus of intimacy, of course I took the chance. I thought you remembered my confession and didn’t reciprocate my feelings, but I was so desperate that I would take anything you were willing to give me, even if it didn’t involve your love. I—” he cut off, blush flushed over his cheeks, up to the tips of his ears. He took a shaky breath. “I was clinging to the hope that maybe through the new shared intimacy I could show you how much you meant to me. And maybe, maybe someday you would start feeling the same, when you realized how good we are together and how good I can be for you.”

“Xavier—Oh my god.” You breathed, your hand still covering your mouth, your eyes never leaving his face. His beautiful, starstruck face, now so full of confusion and unspoken hurt. “Bunny, I’m so, so, so sorry. I had no idea, I—” Your voice practically a whisper, you were still coming to terms with the fact that your feelings were reciprocated. And that you were the one who complicated things between you. “I don’t remember anything you said to me that night. I couldn’t even hear you through the sound of my own blood thrumming in my ears, that’s how drunk I felt. How overwhelmed after our first kiss.”

The alcohol consumed that night also wasn’t of big help. You were a lightweight and you drunk only occasionally, so the few drinks you had already made you feel dizzy. Mixed with the intensity of your emotions, it overwhelmed you so intensely that his touch was all you could remember from that night. But now you could make it all alright.

“I only remember your touch, the things we did, and our conversation the next morning. I remember touching your hand and initiating the kiss, and my tipsy brain just thought that you went with it to forget about MC.” You said truthfully, letting it all pour out of you. Your cheeks burned with the embarrassment of admitting how desperate you were for him, that the thought he loved another didn’t stop you from having sex with him.

Then the blush deepened from the realization that from the very beginning the only one he was thinking about was you.

This thought made your head spin, the happiness slowly bubbling in your chest. Your whole body trembled.

“That’s— Fuck. You really don’t remember.” He shook his head again, realizing how deep the misunderstanding reached. “You didn’t initiate anything. I was the one who kissed you first.”

“No, I—”

“Yes. You touched my hand, smiled at me contentedly and said some things and I—I just couldn’t restrain myself any longer.” This time you were the one who started approaching him slowly. You needed him close. Always. And you realized that now you didn’t have any reasons to deny yourself that lack of distance. “You looked so soft, so open and kissable, and I just went for it. And then you reciprocated.” The light in his eyes started sparkling when he noticed that you were finally coming closer to him. He reached out his hand for you and you took it gently, still shaking from the unspoken emotions.

“I can’t believe it. All this time I thought that you were in love with someone else.” His hand was warm, the touch electrifying. You squeezed his hand and intertwined your fingers together. You saw how between your clasped hands, his Evol started shining brightly, shading soft light upon your features. It was a sign that he was excited. “I tried to put a distance between us, end this intimacy because I thought that I was just a second best for you. An easy distraction.”

“How could you think that? Almost from the moment I met you, I have loved you passionately—” He brought you even closer together, pulling you by your intertwined hands, and put his other hand on your cheek. He swiped the reminder of your tears with his fingers, looking into your eyes with a devotion so apparent that it took your ability to form coherent thoughts. How did you manage to miss the way he was always looking your way?

“X-Xavier.”

“I couldn’t even think about anyone else even if I tried to. You occupy my every thought. How could I ever find a place for somebody else in my heart when you fill the space out completely?” Everything that came out of his mouth was laced with impatience. He was trying so hard to make you understand him, and the intensity of his emotions. He couldn’t psychically hold it inside anymore, he restrained himself for so long that he felt as if all of his walls finally crumbled. He needed you to know everything.

“I love you, starlight. I’m so in love with you that I couldn’t contain that feeling inside anymore. I couldn’t even spend five minutes in your presence without trying to touch you, to kiss you, to hold you. My whole body longs for you constantly.” He said, thinking off the months after you started being friends with benefits. How at first he wasn’t sure how much he could take from you, and then, when he noticed that you didn’t mind the affection outside the bedroom, he couldn’t contain himself. He kissed you every time he had a chance, he touched you everywhere he could, he was trying to stay away from you as little as possible. Despite thinking that you did not reciprocate his feelings fully, his love for you flowed out of him naturally, every look and every touch laced with unconditional devotion.

During the period of your silence and avoiding him, he thought that it was because he finally crossed a line. He let his feelings out too much, he finally made you uncomfortable. He was starting to act as you lover, not as your friend and it wasn’t what you agreed to. He thought you still didn’t love him and maybe that was a sign that you never will. And even if that could be the case, he still couldn’t let you go.

And it appeared that he didn’t have to.

That you were not uncomfortable, but unsure.

That it was all a huge misunderstanding.

And the words that came out of your pretty, little mouth next, almost brought him to his knees.

“Xavier. Xavier me too, I—” You stuttered, completely overwhelmed by how much you were feeling. You squeezed his wrists, and looked deep into his beautiful, hopeful eyes. “I love you too. And I fell in love with you long before our first night together. I just thought that it was wishful thinking, because your heart was already taken by someone else. And that I could just stay beside you as your friend and that would be enough. And then share your bed from time to time, if that meant that I could hold you close, be on the receiving end of your affection.” You said and raised on your feet to place a quick kiss on his lips. He chased after you instantly, despite appearing stunned. You noticed his hands were shaking.

“You really mean it?” He asked, leaning towards you, kissing your lips again, this time for longer. He had trouble keeping his mouth away from yours, especially now, that he knew that every one of your kisses was filled with love. “Am I not dreaming this time?” You smiled and stroked his hair affectionately, petting his head, wanting to convey your feelings in every way possible.

“Xavier, I love you.” You repeated, grabbing his head in your palms and looking deep into his eyes. Your voice was strong, leaving no room for uncertainty. “I love you so mu—” He didn’t let you finish that sentence, because he quickly picked you up and spun you around, holding you in his arms. You giggled and put your arms around his neck, holding him tightly, his face buried in your neck. When he stopped, he quickly found your lips again and that kiss felt groundbreaking.

He held you close to him, one hand squeezing you by your waist, and the other holding your jaw gently. His brows furrowed in desperation and his kisses were slow, sensual, sending pleasant shocks throughout your whole body. His tongue made an appearance, and he tasted you in a way that made your legs feel like jelly. He licked into your mouth, grunting lowly, his fingers placing a strand of your hair behind your ear, then tracing patterns on your warm cheek. When you opened your eyes for a second, you could see that the tips of his ears were red. The blush spread through his cheeks too, making him look so adorable.

“It does feel like a dream.” He breathed between kisses. “And sounds too good to be true.” He captured your lips again and you smiled into his mouth. Your heart was about to burst.

“I love you.” You repeated, basking in the feeling of finally being able to say it out loud, be open with your emotions. He released your lips and kissed your forehead. You looked up, and he placed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, a wide smile adorning his face.

“Don’t stop saying that. You make me so happy.” He said quietly, and you whispered the confession once again, making him sigh shakily.

“I was so stupid. I should’ve asked you right from the start if what Jeremiah said was true.” You said and hugged him more tightly. “I should’ve told you sooner.” You placed your head on his strong chest, your ear touching his bare body, listening to his fast heartbeat. Your hands were hugging his waist, mindful not to touch his bandaged back.

“No, I foolishly thought that telling you once would suffice. I forgot that you drank that night and that could’ve clouded your memory.” He squeezed you harder to himself and started back away with you in his arms, until the back of his legs touched his couch. He feel into it, holding you close, making you sit on his lap. “To think that I could have you sooner—” He looked into your eyes, as if searching for something.

“You had me before, and you have me now. My heart, my body, my soul.” You positioned yourself more comfortably, placing your legs on both sides of his waist, and took his face into your hands. He closed his eyes at the contact, and started to caress your body, from your waist, down to your legs. He squeezed the plush of your tights and let his head fall against the couch pillows.

He couldn’t believe that this was happening. He prayed that this wasn’t a dream, that all of the things your were telling him were true. His chest vibrated pleasurably, incredible warmth spreading through it. His heart beat so quickly, and so loudly that he thought it was the first time he felt its’ beat so intensely himself. Your words made him feel drunk with emotion.

He opened his eyes to look at your face.

He almost choked with how beautiful you were. How divine, sitting on him, caressing his shoulders, smiling at him with the stars in your eyes. He looked at your lips, full and swollen, bearing the signs of his kisses. He looked at your neck, delicate and unmarked, and he stroked it with the back of his hand, wanting to change that fact immediately, knowing that now he was allowed to do that. He switched his gaze to your eyes again and drank them in, basking in their light, wishing that this moment could never end. Or maybe it should, so it could become your new beginning.

You were his treasure. His star, his light, guiding him through life, making his existence worth pursuing. You showed him that the world can be beautiful, despite it’s overbearing cruelty. You were his salvation, his safe place, his one and only, showing him every single day that he mattered, that he was not a lost cause, or a villain in disguise. You taught him that he was capable of loving so intensely and now, that he was loved as passionately in return.

He doubted his worth, but the only way he knew to prove his love for you was by protecting you with his very life. You had no idea, but his sword, now a symbol of your bond, was yours to command—and you were the only reason he continued to wield it.

“What are you thinking about?” Your voice was not more than a whisper, your eyes still looking into his starry ones, losing yourself in the deep blue. You loved them, how magnificent and expressive they were, and you swore to yourself to tell him about it every day.

He seemed to get out of the trace he was in, and his eyes softened, still taking you in. He smiled and took your hands into his, and kissed your knuckles, his kisses gentle and long-lasting.

“You.” He replied shortly, his voice gentle and reassuring. He put your hands on his shoulders, making you hug his neck with them. You complied and put your whole arms around his neck, bringing your bodies closer. One of his hands touched your waist, caressing it delicately, and the other one stroked your hair, admiring its’ softness. His eyes never left yours. “Always you, my starlight. Then, now, and till the end of my days. I will always carry you in my mind, and in my heart, to be able to reach you, no matter the distance.” You could feel his breath on your face with how close you were to each other, and he gazed at your open lips, which were already waiting to be kissed senselessly. “I love you, as I never loved anyone else in my life, and I never will again.” His lips captured yours in a kiss so soft, yet so desperate, and full of adoration, that you felt a single, happy tear escape from your eye. He deepened the kiss and held you throughout the night, kissing you and touching you, never wanting the moment to end, the warmth of your skin to become a memory.

It all started with the simplest of touches, and it never truly ended. The spark you ignited that first night has never faded. Since the moment you met, it has burned brightly between you both, a light so powerful that it could be seen across the vastness of deep space. Everlasting and exquisite, just like the different lifetimes you both had ahead of you, always finding each other, as if guided by it’s warmth.

ੈ✩‧₊˚

thank you for your time and please let me know if you liked it!! i was thinking of writing more for this au, maybe from xavier’s perspective? how they met and how he fell in love + how their first night really played out ♡

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entitled-fangirl · 3 days ago

Text

Little doe.

Cregan Stark x betrothed Velaryon!reader

Summary: the reader is everything Cregan isn't- soft, kind, and delicate. He's determined to be gentle.

Warnings: age gap, soft dominance, talk of blood and consummating a marriage, bedding ceremony

A/n: This one is fluff and stuff. Perhaps a part two with a little smut is needed 🤭

Masterlist

......................................................

Cregan was only a tad worried.

The journey back to Winterfell was almost silent, and he was beginning to grow concerned for the quiet woman seated on her horse next to him.

The Velaryon Princess.

After winning the war, young Aegon III honored his mother’s promise to the Stark: help win the war, and he could have the hand of the Princess.

Rhaenyra’s only daughter.

When Daemon had found out about his wife’s bargaining while he was away in Harrenhall, he was furious. The child was not his and still he felt a responsibility for her. And handing off the only daughter to a dynasty like this one felt wrong.

But that was then. And this is now.

Cregan’s horse brushed against hers. “Nervous?”

Her head turned, her eyes moving over his face as if taking in every inch of him.

He now realized just how much she looked like her brothers.

She was the second eldest child, between Jace and Luke, and yet she was nothing like the two. Her parents (all four of them) had kept her from even the hint of conflict and battle, and it showed. She was more graceful and delicate, soft-spoken and kind, not an experienced warrior who could lead against the greens with an iron fist.

That’s what worried the Stark.

He was quite a bit her elder, her now 18 and him being 24. A lot of change happens in a mere six years- for Cregan, he had fought and won a whole war in less time than that of their age gap. And because of his well fought war, he was more harsh.

He feared he couldn’t be the gentle husband she needed.

She hummed, as if that was answer enough for him. The soft clomping of their horses was the only sound between them.

He sighed. “I believe I asked you a question. It’s rude to ignore someone, Princess.”

Her eyes widened. She hadn’t meant offense by her actions. In fact, she was rather mortified that he had taken offense to it in the first place. “Perhaps a bit nervous,” she admitted softly.

Her voice was soft and calm. It was everything Cregan was not used to.

He hummed back, not even aware that he was doing the very thing he criticized her for. “Winterfell is only a day’s right out. There’s not a reason for nerves.”

“I’ve not… I’ve not been away from Dragonstone or King’s Landing before,” she mumbled.

Cregan was surprised by that. But being the sheltered princess, he assumed there was much she didn’t know about. “You are in for an adventure then, little dragon.”

…

Outside of the castle doors, Cregan dismounted his horse and stepped to the princess. Without question or concern, he grabbed her by her hips and lifted her from her horse. Her body slid down his as he lowered her, their faces too close for comfort for either of them. As if in slow motion, her lips parted but no sound came out. She didn't know what to say.

Cregan's large hand brushed hair away from her face and his eyes set on her like a starved wolf- observant, and yet, ready to strike anything at a moment's notice.

His head dipped down, his nose brushing her temple as he took in the proximity of the two. "We'll marry soon," he remarked quietly.

Another hum came from her but he let it slide. It sounded more like the squeak of a frightened mouse and he would be an arse for ridiculing her for it. In fact, it amused him. His lips tugged up into a grin as his hands tightened on her waist. "You're not a big, strong dragon," he mused. He bent down a little more to whisper in her ear. "You're just a frightened deer."

Her big doe eyes stared up into his in anticipation and worry for his next move. She may have been innocent, but she was not dumb. She knew what powerful men did to women when they so choose.

His lips quirked up. "Can I kiss you, little doe?" He asked as his lips brushed her cheek.

She tilted her head down in embarrassment but Cregan caught her chin.

"So soft," he mused kindly. "I can be patient."

He released her and her lungs finally filled with air. She rested a hand against the horse in an attempt to collect herself. He offered his arm politely, though his eyes said that it was expected of her to take it.

Together, they walked into Cregan's home.

…

"Knew I'd find you eventually," his deep voice interrupted the silence.

She gasped. Her hand dropped from the shelf she was admiring the contents of. "Lord Stark. Forgive me."

He shrugged. "Don't know why I would need to. Just a curious doe, hm?"

She shook her head insistently. "I only meant-"

"-Please," he smiled as he took slow steps to her. "My home is yours now. Don't apologize for being in your home."

She smiled lightly. "Thank you."

He reached out and took the carefully bound book in her hand. "Stark history," he noted. He flipped it back and forth. "Are you truly interested?"

She nodded.

He smiled- a genuine one. "I'm glad." He held it out for her to take again. But when her hand reached out, he pulled it back teasingly. When her face fell and her hand hesitated, he finally handed it to her. "If you want more, I can manage a few of the-"

"-Please," she insisted.

His eyes traced her face and he nodded. "Course. Consider it done." He closed the distance and dipped his head down, kissing her head without much thought.

As he walked off, her hand came up to the spot he had just kissed.

…

During the entire wedding feast, she was lightheaded. The ceremony had her numb. But what really sold it all was Cregan's heavy kiss on her lips at the end of it. He had cupped her cheeks and gave her a weighted kiss. Like he was hungry. Like he'd consume her.

She tried to eat even a little of what was in front of her, but she couldn't. The back of Cregan's hand brushed her hair over her shoulder. "Eat."

She looked over to him with a questioning look. "I am."

He smiled, completely amused. His hand found a comfortable place to the back of her neck. "Staring at everyone else does nothing."

"I have not-"

His voice rumbled as he muttered her name. "I placed more on your plate minutes ago and you've yet to even notice."

"W-" True to his word, there was additional food on her plate. Her eyes bore into his. "Forgive me. I d-"

His thumb rubbed into the skin at the back of her neck. "-'s alright. But eat."

She hummed then paused and forced herself to give him a verbal answer. "I will."

He smiled, beginning to massage the nape of her neck. For someone so harsh, his hands were gentle.

…

She let out a shriek when the men finally set her down in the chamber. Cregan was already in there, ushered by the women. They had managed to get him down to his tunic and trousers. His head snapped to her when he heard the noise.

He lightly shoved away the hands of the woman untying the strings of his tunic. He stepped through the small crowd of men with light shoves until he was next to Y/n.

She had been stripped of all but her shift, her hair tousled from its neat updo earlier. There was a slight fear to her eyes that worried Cregan.

He pushed off the men enough to give the two room. He circled her and pulled her to him. With his chest against her back, his head lowered to kiss her neck. The men hollared and cheered, all excited that the Stark had begun the bedding ceremony.

His kisses trailed up her neck until his lips brushed her ear. "Are you scared?" He asked so lowly that only those two could hear. "I'll call it off."

She felt frozen, her eyes stuck on the ground.

He nipped at her ear, his hand slowly brushing down her forearm until he joined their hands together. "Squeeze my hand and I'll do it."

She had to force herself to wiggle each finger until she was able to finally squeeze his hand.

"Go," he muttered immediately against her neck to the others. There was a hesitation in the room. Like perhaps they hadn't heard him right.

Cregan's head raised slowly, taking in the room. His gaze was truly wolfish.

The room emptied after that.

When the door closed, Cregan's hands dropped from her body. He moved away, going to the small table against the wall and pouring himself a drink. He looked back with a questioning look if she wanted one, to which she denied.

Downing the cup, he filled it again and took it with him to move back to her. She had yet to move.

He stepped in front of her. "Are you afraid?"

Y/n lifted her chin to finally look at him. There was a glazed look in her eyes, though there were no tears. She took a breath to brave saying what she wanted. "Does it matter?"

His head lulled to the side with a sigh and a smile. He looked down at the content of the cup and swirled it before offering it.

Her fingers wrapped around it and she soon downed the contents.

"I will never force myself on you," he promised. He ran a hand through his hair. "Us North, we can be… brude-ish. I forget you were made with gentle hands." He takes the cup back. "Need more?"

She shook her head. And when he moved away, she walked to the bed and sat down.

Cregan soon joined her. He sat next to her and the two stared at the wall. He twiddled his thumbs awkwardly until he figured out what he wanted to say. "You're the most delicate woman I've ever known. I'm not sure what to do with you. I want to hold you but… my hands have never cradled anything. You understand?"

She nodded, picking at a string on her shift.

His hand covered hers. His head dipped down. "Give me a better answer than that."

She looked to him. "I do understand."

He accepted that. "Thank you." He gently pinched her chin between his fingers. Cregan's eyes darkened at the proximity of the two. His eyes raked over her face carefully, taking in every part of her. "Most beautiful doe I've ever laid eyes on."

…

"C'mere," Cregan motioned.

Y/n moved to him.

The two had grown more familiar with one another. The consummation of their marriage remained undone, though neither cared. Cregan, the night of the wedding, had ruffled his wife's hair and slashed his hand to spread blood across the sheets. The North was none the wiser.

It was especially believable with how close the two had grown- though that was entirely unplanned.

When she neared the desk, he stood and offered his chair. He leaned over it to talk over her shoulder. "Look here."

On Cregan's large wooden desk lay a large fabric with stitching in a webbing pattern, names scattered everywhere across it.

It was a Stark family tree.

His hand reached over her and brushed the fabric. "Here I am. And my brother- before he died. Father there, and mother." His hand came back to his spot, brushing idly. "I'll have your name sewn in soon."

She leaned back in the chair. "I thought that was reserved until a woman has given you children?"

He shrugged without a care. "You are my wife."

She wanted to argue further but his fingers had wandered to her hair, twirling around the soft locks slowly. He looked rather entranced as he admired the woman. She cleared her throat. "According to the law, this marriage is not legally binding yet."

"Yet. Not yet." He leaned over the backrest. "But if I recall right, I banished the law from our bed. The priests and lawmakers. Because you asked me to."

She shivered, leaning forward to escape the overwhelming feeling of him consuming her every thought.

Cregan twirled one last curl in his hand before letting it fall. He stepped around the desk to face her. "I'll have you stitched into the fabric within the fortnight. I don't need a child to prove that you're mine." He stretched. "I'm off to petitions. Tell me you'll miss me."

Her lips pulled up into a happy smile. "I cannot lie and say that I won't."

He accepted that. "It's almost beginning to sound like you love me."

She flushed.

Rheanyra had never loved Laenor. Not… not like that. Alicent had never loved Viserys. Helaena and Aegon… Never was a political marriage as filled with admiration as this. It frightened her.

She had heard tales of men bedding mistresses, and wives with other men than their husband. It was normal in a sense to do so. But now, in front of Cregan, she couldn't imagine her soul surviving if Cregan loved another. And to cheat on him would be to cheat on everything she loves. Everything she l-

She loved him.

It hit her harshly.

Her silence had confused Cregan. "Didn't mean much by it, Doe. Only jesting."

If only he knew her heart already belonged to him and him alone.

.............................................

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#fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfiction #cregan stark x reader #game of thrones x reader #cregan stark x you #cregan stark imagine #cregan stark x y/n #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones fanfiction #game of thrones x y/n #cregan x y/n #cregan x you #cregan stark #cregan x reader #hotd cregan #house of the dragon imagines #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic

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dreamauri · 2 days ago

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♪ — 𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗘𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 oscar piastri x girlfriend! reader (fluff) fic summary . . . Oscar Piastri can't help but gush about his girlfriend in every interview, effortlessly weaving you into his conversations with pride and admiration

( main naster list | more of oscar piastri ) ( requests )

Oscar Piastri had a habit—one that everyone in the paddock noticed almost immediately. He couldn’t stop talking about his girlfriend. And not just in the offhand, casual way people might expect, like a passing mention here or there. No, when Oscar talked about you, it was like flipping a switch. His entire demeanor softened, his eyes lit up, and his words came tumbling out with an earnestness that left no room for doubt: he was absolutely, irrevocably smitten, and he made sure the world knew it.

It started innocently enough during an interview early in his rookie season. The journalist had asked about his study habits for learning new tracks, expecting a typical response about simulator hours or reviewing footage. But Oscar, with that easy grin of his, took a completely different direction. “I mean, I’ve seen how my girlfriend studies for her exams, so this should be pretty easy,” he said with a playful shrug. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he added, “She’s top of her class, by the way.” The pride in his voice was palpable, his expression glowing with admiration. The journalist couldn’t help but chuckle, already mentally jotting down notes to find out more about this mysterious academic powerhouse who clearly had Oscar wrapped around her finger.

And that was just the beginning.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

During a fan stage Q&A, he managed to take things up a notch. A young fan asked how he stays calm under pressure, and Oscar didn’t even need a moment to think. He leaned into the mic, his face lighting up in that boyish, unfiltered way of his. “Oh, that’s easy. The other night, my girlfriend—she’s a top athlete, by the way—was prepping for this big event she had. Watching her manage everything so smoothly kind of puts my little race stress into perspective.”

The crowd’s reaction was immediate: a mix of cheers, laughter, and a collective ‘aww’ that made Oscar’s cheeks flush faintly. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, like he hadn’t just melted half the audience’s hearts with a single sentence. The sincerity in his tone was undeniable, and the moment was all the more charming because it was clear Oscar didn’t think he was doing anything out of the ordinary. He was just telling the truth, proud and in awe of you as always.

But even then, he wasn’t done. “Honestly,” he added with a laugh, “if I handled pressure half as well as she does, I’d be unstoppable.” It was a line delivered with such casual reverence that it didn’t just make the fans smile—it left them convinced that Oscar Piastri wasn’t just a rising star in Formula 1; he was also a contender for the title of world’s best boyfriend.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the time he was caught on McLaren’s YouTube channel, unabashedly gushing about how much he loved going shopping with you. It started as a casual behind-the-scenes segment—just Oscar and Lando killing time between commitments. But when the topic of hobbies came up, Oscar’s eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“No, seriously,” he began, animatedly waving his hands as Lando looked at him like he’d lost the plot. “She’s got this incredible eye for things. Like, we’ll walk into a store, and she’ll just pick something up and instantly know it’s perfect. I don’t even know how she does it.”

Lando, ever the mischief-maker, raised an eyebrow. “And what’s your contribution to this magical shopping experience?”

Oscar didn’t miss a beat. “I…carry the bags,” he said with a proud grin. “It’s a good system.”

Lando snorted, muttering, “Golden retriever boyfriend,” under his breath, fully expecting Oscar to deny it. But Oscar, in his usual laid-back way, just shrugged and smiled wider. “I mean, if the shoe fits.” The clip went viral almost instantly, with fans agreeing that if there were ever a category for Boyfriend of the Year, Oscar was already a shoo-in.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then, there was the time during a press junket when a reporter asked him about his organization skills. The question was meant to highlight how drivers juggle their packed schedules, but Oscar’s response was anything but rehearsed.

He laughed, a warm, self-deprecating sound that filled the room. “Honestly, I would’ve been doomed yesterday if my girlfriend hadn’t reminded me about something I forgot. She’s the organized one in the relationship. I just…drive cars fast and hope for the best.”

The room burst into laughter, a few reporters exchanging amused glances at his candidness. But Oscar just grinned, his expression softening with the unmistakable fondness that always seemed to creep into his voice when he talked about you.

“It’s true,” he added with a shrug, as if it was the most natural thing in the world to openly admit just how much he relied on you. And that was the magic of Oscar Piastri—his genuine, unabashed love for you turned even the simplest of conversations into something that felt warm and unforgettable.

Even in the most casual conversations with fans, you always managed to find your way into the spotlight through Oscar’s words. Like the time a fan brought him a book about racing during an autograph session. He accepted it with a warm smile, flipping through the pages for a moment before looking up. “Oh, my girlfriend loves reading,” he said, almost absentmindedly but with so much fondness it felt deliberate. “She’ll probably finish this before I do and then give me all the highlights. Saves me time.”

The fan giggled, clearly charmed, while the rest of the queue exchanged knowing smiles. It wasn’t just what he said—it was how he said it, like mentioning you was the most natural thing in the world. And for Oscar, it was.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Then there was the post-race interview after one of his toughest performances. He’d started the race in a dismal qualifying position, clawing his way through the pack to secure points in a way that left commentators breathless. By the time he reached the interview pen, his suit was damp with sweat, and exhaustion painted his features. But even then, the familiar warmth of his smile made an appearance as he approached the mic.

“You know,” he began, his voice still catching its breath but steady, “I think a big part of getting through today was remembering something my girlfriend told me.” His words were met with curious expressions from the reporters, who leaned in just a little closer. “She’s amazing at staying positive no matter what, and she’s always reminding me to focus on what I can control.”

He paused for a second, his gaze drifting toward the camera as if he was speaking directly to you. “So, yeah, this one’s for her.”

The sincerity in his voice left no room for doubt. This wasn’t just an offhand mention or a fleeting thought. You weren’t just his girlfriend in name or title—you were his anchor. The way he spoke of you wasn’t just endearing; it was grounding, a reflection of how much you truly meant to him.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One of the sweetest displays of Oscar’s affection unfolded during a behind-the-scenes McLaren vlog. The team had been filming some candid moments during a break, and the camera panned to Oscar sitting in a corner, scrolling through his phone. His expression was soft, his lips curved into a barely-there smile. Then, as if remembering something, he nudged Lando, who was lounging next to him.

“Oh, look, my girlfriend,” Oscar said, holding up his phone. His voice was tinged with a quiet kind of excitement, like he’d discovered a hidden treasure he couldn’t wait to share. The camera zoomed in just enough to catch the sparkle in his eyes as he looked at the photo. “She sent me this earlier. Isn’t she gorgeous?”

Lando let out an exaggerated groan, flopping dramatically against the couch. “Mate, you’re insufferable,” he muttered, though the amused grin on his face betrayed him. “Do you ever stop?”

“Not when it comes to her,” Oscar replied without missing a beat, his smile growing wider as he looked at the picture one more time before carefully locking his phone.

The clip went viral within hours of the vlog’s release. Fans couldn’t get over how sweet—and utterly smitten—Oscar was. Comments flooded in, praising his open adoration and dubbing him the “ultimate golden retriever boyfriend.”

But for those who knew him, this was just Oscar being himself. No matter where he was or what he was doing, you were always on his mind. And he made sure everyone around him knew just how proud he was to call you his. Whether it was your achievements, your quirks, or simply the way you lit up his life, Oscar never stopped finding ways to weave you into the conversation.

It wasn’t just about the words he said, though. It was the way he said them—with genuine admiration, unwavering pride, and a love so pure it could light up the entire paddock. His tone softened when he spoke about you, his expression grew warmer, and his smile turned just a little brighter.

If Oscar Piastri was the golden retriever boyfriend the world had come to adore, then you were undoubtedly his favorite human, his everything, the one who made all his happiest stories worth telling.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The atmosphere was electric at the Yas Marina Circuit, the tension so palpable it could’ve powered the floodlights. It was the last Grand Prix of the season, and everything was on the line for McLaren—the Constructors' Championship title hung in the balance. Among the sea of orange and black, you stood out—not just because you were there to support Oscar Piastri, but because you radiated an energy that seemed to magnetize the young driver to your side.

From the moment you both arrived on Thursday for media day, fans couldn’t help but notice the stark contrast in your personalities. Oscar, always reserved and thoughtful, seemed content to let you take the lead, his quiet confidence complimented by your vibrant presence. When a fan asked how you two had met, you lit up with a mischievous smile.

“I adopted him when we were in school,” you said, glancing fondly at Oscar, who was shyly smiling at the ground. “I guess he just stuck to my side.”

Oscar, standing beside you, squeezed your hand in his as he chuckled. “Well, it’s hard not to stick to you. You kind of pull people in.”

Throughout the weekend, Oscar was a picture of quiet affection. Whether it was holding your hand, wrapping an arm around you, or resting his chin on your head during quieter moments, his touch was constant. Fans caught glimpses of him whispering things to you that made you laugh, your bubbly personality clearly rubbing off on him in the best ways.

When race day arrived, the stakes were high, and Oscar’s nerves were evident. But even after a dramatic first-lap collision with Max Verstappen that caused him to spin out and drop down the grid, you were still cheering for him like he’d just secured pole position.

By the time the checkered flag waved, McLaren had done it—they’d secured the Constructors' Championship. Despite Oscar’s rocky race, you were beaming with pride as he pulled into the pit lane. Seeing your smile waiting for him made every frustration of the day vanish from his mind.

After the podium celebrations for the team, a surprising transformation unfolded. Your extroverted energy seemed to seep into Oscar as if he’d caught your enthusiasm like a contagious laugh. Gone was the usual quiet and composed Oscar. In his place was a driver buzzing with excitement, grinning from ear to ear as he darted around the paddock.

He didn’t just take pictures with the team; he orchestrated them like a director at a photo shoot. “Lando, get over here! And grab that trophy!” he called, dragging his teammate into a chaotic group photo. When Lando least expected it, Oscar grabbed a bottle of leftover champagne and sprayed him without mercy, laughing so hard he had to lean on you for balance.

“You’re ridiculous!” you teased, wiping the champagne splatter off your face.

Oscar grinned wickedly. “Oh, am I now?” Before you could react, he turned the champagne on you, spraying it in a gleeful arc. You squealed, half-laughing, half-shouting as the fizzy liquid soaked your hair and clothes.

“Oscar!”

He set the bottle down and pulled you close, pressing a kiss to your cheek as if that would make up for it. “You look even better drenched in champagne,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. His giggles, boyish and utterly unguarded, filled the space between you.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide your smile as you ruffled his hair. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

The two of you stood there in the middle of the celebration, drenched in champagne and surrounded by the joyous chaos of the team. Oscar looked at you, his face softening. “I couldn’t have done this without you, you know. Even when it’s rough, you make it all worth it.”

You smiled up at him, brushing a stray lock of hair out of his face. “And I’ll always be here, no matter what.”

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#f1 #formula 1 #formula racing #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #oscar piastri #oscar #op81 #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x y/n #op81 smut #bottom oscar #bottom oscar piastri #f1 fic #formula one x reader

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sloaneispunk · 2 days ago

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“friend or foe”

soft!frontman (hwang in-ho) x you

when frontman joined the games, he thought it was solely to see gihun fail, but his intentions shifted when a certain player number 455 caught his attention…

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part one

after the first round of voting, half of the room was left speechless, how could majority have voted to stay? the games were inhumane and above the top, was the money worth it anymore?

you headed up back to your bed where you could see everything clearer. the ‘o’s cheering loudly while the ‘x’s stood still as the air hung heavily upon them. then, you saw the player that had caused the majority to overule the ‘x’s… player 001.

he was a tall middle aged man with astonishing features. his hair somehow still styled neatly on his head, leaving only a few strands out of place. his lips curled into a small smirk as he walked past the crowd and seemingly back towards the bunk beds.

you must have been staring for too long because 001 suddenly halted, causing you to lean further down to see what had caused him to stop in his tracks. suddenly, his head snapped up, looking right up at you with that same expression on his face.

‘shit’ you cursed as you threw yourself back onto the bed, back hitting the cold mattress within seconds.

suddenly, a face appeared at the side of your bed, causing you to let out a scream as your hands flew to your mouth, shufflig towards the other end of the bed.

“hi there.”

there he stood, right there at the other end of your bed. player 001’s brown eyes looked so innocently into your own, he now had a bigger, more geniune smile on his face as he waited for a reply.

“you scared me.” you breathed out, still not moving from the edge.

“i’m sorry i didn’t mean to. i noticed you were alone earlier, i hope you don’t mind if i join you since we’re both by ourselves in here.” 001 said with a calm and gentle voice.

“uh.. yeah-”

“i apologise if i’m being too pushy, i just thought a young, pretty girl like you being here alone could be risky. i wanted to make sure that you were alright.” he interrupted. “my name is young-il.”

he stretched out his hand towards you, waiting for your hand in to shake his.

“i’m y/n, nice to meet you.” you replied, still skeptical, but nevertheless you showed your appreciation with a handshake.

oh, right then and there. with your hand in his, the frontman in disguise was heating up. he craved so much more then merely your hand in his. he wanted to touch every part of you, leaving nothing that he had not savoured.

he was brought back into reality when you pulled your hand back, staring at him, waiting for the charismatic man to say yet another inviting sentence to draw you in more.

“i’m afraid i didn’t notice you during the first game.” young-il said.

you shifted on the bed, moving towards the headrest as you beckoned him to the empty space in front of you which he gladly complied.

“during red light, green light?” you asked and he nodded. “i was at the front, guess i didn’t want to take the risk of lagging behind.”

“you must have completed the game pretty fast then.” he stated.

“i had a few minutes left, i spent it trying to help those who were falling behind.” you shrugged.

there it was. that kindess, that compassion. it was exactly what he was looking for. right now he was the big bad wolf licking his lips as he sat watching his prey.

“you have a kind heart, y/n. how did a girl like you end up in this place?”

“just mixed around with the wrong people i guess, i plan to start a new when i get out of here.” you said, full of hope, making him grin.

the two of you spent the night talking, getting closer with every hour that passed. the more young-il talked to you, the more he felt the need to dive deeper, there was so much he wanted, no, needed to know about you. all he needed was time to earn your trust and he would have everything in his control. when you had fallen asleep, young-il checked the surroundings, ensuring that everyone was fast asleep before he walked up towards the masked guards.

“make sure every single one of you nutjobs get this message. whatever you do, do not hurt player 455. if i find a single scratch on her, i will kill you all myself. is that clear?” young-il whispered but was still somehow stern enough for the guards to be taken aback with fear.

things were starting to change with the frontman’s plan, but he could adapt to change right?

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part two

the next day you were awoken by the cheerful song being played on the speakers.

“good sleep? you dosed off halfway during our talk last night.” young-il, chuckled, sitting on the edge of your bed, extending his hand out for you to take.

“were you here all night? my god, you should’ve went back to your bed! you didn’t sleep?!” you scolded as you took his hand.

he let out a laugh and helped you onto your feet.

“it’s no worries, y/n, i wasn’t tired.”

“so you watched me like a creep while i slept?”

“i- y-yeah, no! i mean n-no-”

“i’m kidding.” you cut the poor man off, “thank you.”

“yeah, of course.” he replied. “c’mon, let’s see what game we’re playing today.”

“ladies and gentleman, please follow in an orderly fashion to your next game.”

as you and young-il followed the crowd into the colorful, long, windy staircase.

“what if the next game is difficult, young-il?” you asked, following behind as he kept you close even when walking.

“hey, it’s okay, nothing will happen to us. i’ll make sure of it.” he smiled, pausing in his steps momentarily for you to walk beside him.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part three

when you entered the room, you realised it was much smaller than the room for ‘red light, green light’. this one however, had two large rainbow circles on the floor and 5 tables spaced equally around.

“this game will be played in groups of 5, the game will commence in 10 minutes.”

your eyes shot to young-il. before you could say anything, 3 men came up to you and young-il. “hey man, would you want to join our group?”

3 men stood behind young-il, player 390, player 388 and player 456.

“why not? me and y/n can-”

“oh… we were looking for a team of men.. i’m sorry but your friend can’t join us.” player 390 interrupted.

“no.” young-il said sternly. he wasted no time arguing and instead took your hand and walked away.

after searching for other groups that would take you both in, you realised it was useless. no one really wanted a girl in their group and you couldn’t blame them. you stopped and sighed, causing young-il to turn around.

“young-il, it’s useless. you should join them. i’ll find others, we don’t have time.” you sighed, beckoning him to leave before time ran out for the both of you.

“no. i can’t garuntee your safety that way.”

“you don’t have to. it’ll be fine i’ll see you when the game is over.”

“c’mon, y/n i-”

“miss?” a voice said from behind you. “we need one more person for our team, would you want to join us?”

it was a sweet old lady, behind her stood 2 girls, player 120 and player 095.

“mom did you find someone?” a man jogged towards the old woman. “oh great, okay just in time.”

“come dear, who says women can’t win this stupid game.” she grumbled, taking your hand and leading you towards her group.

“i’ll be fine.” you smiled, leaving young-il standing alone with worry in his eyes. with much hesistation, young-il let you go, joining the team of men without you.

“you, hey! come join us! let’s win this!” player 456 cheered, inviting young-il back into the group.

“time is up, please sit down in your groups… this is a six legged race where you will have to complete 5 mini games individually while being chained to each other. the games played will be ddakji, flying stone, gonggi, spinning top and jegi. please order yourself in which you will be playing the games in.”

a sense of unease set in in young-il. he searched the room to find you. even if he was worried, he couldn’t show it on the outside, it would be too risky for you and for him. he remained calm as he scanned the room for you, eyes eventually landing on your face from across the room.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part four

“we’re lucky we have many girls in this team! which games are you familiar with?” the old lady asked, looking at you.

“oh i’m not really sure, why don’t you guys pick first?” you replied embarrassed, an awkward smile plastered on your face.

as the others discussed which game they were going to play you looked around, searching for young-il once more. when you finally spotted him at the far end, you gave him a small smile and a wave, seeing how he was already looking at you.

“so i’ll play ddakji, your son will play flying stone, ma’am you’ll play gongi, ms 455 will play spinning top and ms 120 you will play jengi. is that alright?” player 095 said, looking around for approval from the group.

when the game started, your team was the first. you took your place on the rainbow with your team, all equally as nervous as you were.

“hey we’re gonna be okay, we’ll win easily.” you said offering a smile to the team.

“yes! we can do it ladies! oh and you too son.” the old lady said.

a gunshot fired in the air, indicating the start of the game.

“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!” every grunted in synchronicity, moving rather quickly to the first station.

the other players were up on their feet, following around the circle as they cheered.

1. ddakji

player 095 closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

piak!

the sound of the paper slapping on the ground echoed through the room, she opened her eyes and looked down. it flipped.

“first try! let’s go!” player 120 cheered.

“pass”

“hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!”

2. flying stone

“son, just imagine. that rock is the face of the dealer that screwed you over.” the old lady said to her son making the rest of you snicker.

“you son of a bitch! give me my money back!” the man yelled as he threw the rock. without even trying, he managed to hit the other rock down.

“pass”

“holy shit! you did it!” you exclaimed. “let’s go! quick!” you exclaimed practically jumping in place.

hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!

3. gonggi

“come, come! sit down everyone, i need to concentrate.” the old lady said.

she picked up the first few pieces with ease, but couldn’t catch the last one causing her to start over.

that must have struck a nerve because every try after that was not a sucess.

“mom. you said you played gonggi with bullets in the korean war, you can do it.” her son said. “picture it as dad’s face-”

“you imbecile!” she yelled as she picked all the pieces up again, putting them down and picking them up once more with ease.

“pass”

4. spinning top

young-il cheered like the rest, maybe even more. he was holding his breath with every step you took. even as the frontman, he wasn’t sure why he was anxious for a player like you to win. it was very unlike him but he had to admit it felt good.

he watched as you coiled the rope around the spinning top. he could see your hands shaking as everyone’s eyes burned holes into you.

with two minutes left on the clock you trusted your instincts and drew your hand back, carefully flicking your wrist. the spinning top flew through the air, with a soft bang it landed on the ground, spinning perfectly.

“pass”

“she did it!” young-il shouted, causing a roar of cheers to erupt as your team moved towards the last and final game.

hana dul! hana dul! hana dul! hana dul!

5. jegi

“can everyone look away? i just need some concentration.” player 120 asked. everyone including your team turned to look away, even with the time left, you were shaking with fear. one wrong move and you could leave this game as easy as you came in.

everyone remained quiet as you listened for the sound of the shoe and jegi coming into contact.

“one.”

“two.”

“three.”

“four.”

“five.”

“oh! we did it! that was five!” the old woman shouted.

you looked up seeing the guard makinga circle up with his arms.

“pass”

“let’s go! let’s go!”

with that, your team was let go. relief overwhelmed you as you passed the finish line. as the guards unchained your legs, you turned to the crowd finding young-il easily.

you offered him a smile and a little wave, making him do the same.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part five

when it was young-il’s turn his team took place at the start of the line.

“well, it’s a little sad that we don’t have an audience.” player 390 sighed.

“no, it’s good. we don’t have distractions.” player 388 replied.

throughout the game, there was one thing on young-il’s mind, getting back to you. he couldn’t wait for another of your late night conversations. the stupid smile you had when he cracked a horrible joke.

he knew that the game was designed so that there couldn’t be many mistakes made each round. when he joined it was merely for the thrill of it, also the fact that he wanted to see player 456 suffer. but now he knew he had to play the games thoroughly and right, he knew he had to do this to keep his promise to endure your safety.

──── 〇 △ □ ────

part six

you waited anxiously on your bed as more groups came in, but not young-il. it was nerve wrecking, with every group that came in, somehow the number of player became lesser. it was made clear that not everyone was made to pass.

a few minutes later, the metal door swung open again.

the final group walked in, player 456, player 388, player 390, another player you hadn’t seen before player 222 and young-il.

young-il didn’t waste any time, he jogged back to your bed, seeing your smile widen as he came close. before he had the chance to say anything, you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his neck tightly as he bent down onto your bed.

“oh my god, you did it! i was so scared, i-i was so worried-”

“hey, it’s okay. it’s okay, i was worried sick too.” he chuckled, taking a seat beside you on the bed.

“i thought the team didn’t want a girl? how did she manage to get in?” you asked, pointing to player 222 who was now with the rest, talking and laughing.

“she was heavily pregnant. we didn’t have a choice, i’m so sorry they didn’t take you in.” he apologised as you shook your head.

“it’s okay, i understand. don’t worry. i’m just glad you made it.” you said, leaning so close that you could feel his bodyheat.

“you know… when i was playing the spinningtop, i couldn’t for the life of me figure out how you did it in one try!”

“of course, an old man like you comparing yourself to me?” you gasped sarcastically, making him laugh.

“yea right, come on says the one who’s almost lying on me.”

you jerked back, you hadn’t even noticed.

“i’m so sorry, are you uncomfortable? i can mov-”

“hey, i’m playing around. come back, you can do whatever you want. i’m just a makeshift pillow for you.”

you sneered and laid your head on his shoulder, legs tangled together on the bed as you could feel the rhythm of his breathing match yours.

“thank you, young-il.” you whispered, your hand finding his, squeezing it to show your appreciation.

young-il looked down to your hand in his and raised it to his lips, giving it a gentle peck. “anytime, y/n.”

whethere he liked it or not, the game had hit a big obstacle. as the frontman he needed to balance between running the games and keeping it safe for you, and preventing player 456 from infiltrating.

even so, he knew the dangers of the next game. ‘mingle’ was one set out to kill, his plans were all falling apart. frontman realised that keeping you came with a cost, and it was one he was willing to pay.

#squid game #hwang inho #in ho x reader #in ho #inho x you #inho x reader #frontman #frontman x you #frontman x reader #squidman frontman #lee byung hun #lee byun hun x you #lee byun hun x reader #squidgame season 2

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paddockletters · 1 day ago

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redeemed | lando norris

summary: After a messy breakup, Lando’s fans blame his best friend for ruining his relationship. request: yes! sorry took me too long :(( tbh, this had been sitting in drafts for a while because i wasn’t entirely convinced about it (still not 100%, to be fair), but i thought, “Well, maybe they’ll like it,” so here it issss

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 982,273 others

landonorris: Another race weekend!

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user1: I want to be Y/N so baaaad🤧 lando’sgf: love you so muchhhh!!!❤️ user2: Y/N made it again in Lando’s post, love them! user3: I’d love a friendship like Lando and Y/N’s 😭😭😭

yourusername: Great weekend, miss you alredy muppet 🤧❤️

landonorris: It was! When are you coming to visit again?

user4: Lando replied to Y/N but not his gf…💀💀 user5: THE fit, THE smile, THE overtakes 😭 user6: She really needs to back off from Lando and Alice user7: Photo 3 >>> everything else 🫠

lando’sgf posted a story.

yourusername

Liked by carlossainz55 and 76,261 others

yourusername: About last month 💗

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carlossainz55: Feeling special for being in your post 🤧

yourusername: You should, cos it won’t happen again 💀

user8: Lando’s smile in the 3rd photo? how do I sign up for your life? 😭 user9: She can’t post without Lando or some driver in it 🤮

user10: True that, she’s all about the fame

user11: living my dream life AND looking flawless while doing it?❤️😭 user12: always getting in the way of Lando and Alice, proper messing with them 🙄

user13: what are you on about? Lando and Y/N have been friends for yearsss 🤡

user14: well, why didn’t anyone know about her till now? she just wants Lando for the fame, no doubt

landonorris posted a story

lando’s gf posted a story.

lando’s gf

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lando’s gf: ❤️❤️

landonorris

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landonorris: Free time when I’m not driving a F1 car around the world

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user15: Lando— HAHAHA

user16: where’s Alice???

user17: y'all are obsessed with his gf, mind your own business ffs

user18: Bet Y/N’s asking Lando not to take Alice 🙄

user19: giiiirl, touch some grass! Alice has been back in her country

user20: Y/N’s always with Lando, so he’s footing the bill for everything

user21: Everything, mate—GP trips, holidays, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got him paying her rent too 🤮

user22: I wouldn’t want to be Alice, seeing Y/N everywhere around Lando 💀

landonorris just posted a story.

yourusername posted a story

yourusername

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yourusername: [No caption]

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user23: an unexpected crossover user24: Oh, so the gold-digger’s moved on to someone else now? user25: Hope you’re proud of yourself for ruining Lando and Alice’s relationship, biTCH user26: Hope you die

carlossainz55: should I feel proud because you went to a Real Madrid match or bad for "L" because you went out with someone from that team???

carlossainz55: nah, estoy orgulloso

user27: stay away from Lando, you slut

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lando’sex-girlfriend

liked by 172,982

lando’sex-girlfriend: A little miracle is on the way, and we couldn’t be more excited. 👼

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user28: Nearly had a heart attack, thought Lando was going to be a dad 😭😭😭 user29: No way, she was the one who cheated 💀 user30: 💀

landonorris

Liked by charles_leclerc and 1,928,388 others

landonorris: I lost the best thing in my life because of all of you.

Because of your words, your hate, your accusations. You turned her into the villain when all she ever was, was my best friend.

You all tore us apart, pushed me to let go of the one person who truly mattered, all because you couldn’t mind your own business.

And now, seven months later, I see the truth—she was never the problem. I was. I should’ve fought for her. But instead, I let you win.

I’ll never forgive myself for that. I lost her because of you.

—Lando

View all the commments

user31: lando, you did what you thought was best at the time. We’re all human, and nobody should have been attacking her like that

user32: we judged her without knowing the full story 🤧

user33: can’t believe we believed the lies

user 34: I feel so bad now

danielricciardo: Lando, I’ve got your back. It’s crazy how people act like they know your life when they don’t 🤛

user35: It’s hard to see things clearly when the pressure is on you. Glad you’re speaking out now, nobody deserves that kind of hate, especially someone as good

user36: It’s obvious she meant a lot to you but the media and fans never understood that

user37: We were too quick to judge her

maxverstappen1: People love to talk without knowing the full story. Stay strong, mate, always here if you need to talk 🤜🤜

time skip

landonorris

Liked by yourusername and 2,951,052 others

landonorris: I don’t think there’s anyone who deserves this more than her. From being the absolute boss she is in everything she touches to owning this year’s CEO of the Year award (seriously, she’s amazing), I couldn’t be prouder I of course I’m the best wag

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user38: YOUR WIFE?!?!? 😱 i can’t even process it. Lando, what’s happening?!

user39: wait, I thought you were single?? How did we miss this??

user40: no… I THOUGHT THE WERE FRIENDSS????

user41: wait a damn minute—Lando’s married??!! And she’s holding CEO of the year??? I need answers 😭

user42: OH MY GODDD She’s literally living the dream!! And Lando, we all knew you were the best, but now you’ve just confirmed it

user43: HE’S MARRIED?!? And she’s CEO OF THE YEAR?!?! You guys are literally goals

user44: i’m happy for you but also I’m crying in my room so… mixed emotions 🫠🧡

user45: Y/N is literally TOO perfect and it’s offensive to the rest of us 😭😭😭

user46: No hate, but also… I’m fighting for my life over here while Y/N is living my dream 😭

user47: @/yourusername you wake up every day and think, ‘how can I flex on everyone today?’ Because wow 💀

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moonchildcovenxx · 20 hours ago

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Scissoring With Sevika

a/n: Guys i got possessed!! It’s the voices I swear! this is loosely based off of @justhereforsubsevika’s post so go check that out if u like mine :)!!

first time tribbing with sub/switch sevika??? you know what hell yeah!

Sevika prided herself in her poker face. It was an ability that came naturally, and the years of being Silco’s second in command had perfected this trait. It took a lot to break your stoic, brooding, girlfriend. That is until it didn’t.

Sevika had simply stopped moving above you. It was uncharacteristic of her to quiet so quickly. “Vika baby…” you trail off as you shift your hips to look at her. You always craved to feel her closer.

Sevika’s warm muscular body against yours never failed to make you needy. She could hardly believe it herself when you suggested scissoring in place of her fucking you stupid with a strap. Sevika hated to admit when she was wrong, But it felt good. Better even. So good in fact that you both froze when a soft mewl fell from her parted lips.

“Shut up.” Sevika immediately rasped out as your intrigued yet teasing giggle filled your dimly lit bedroom.

“Didn’t know you could sound like that Sevika.” The atmosphere in the room has reached a drunken, hazy, stupor and your eyes darken as Sevika tucks her lower lip between her teeth, her thighs shuddering atop yours. “Don’t—Stop that.” Sevika attempts to chide, but she cuts herself off with a breathy gasp as your clits kiss oh so gently. It has her pretty grey eyes rolling back, it’s a small touch, but she can feel everything. “F-fuck.” Sevika pants, dropping onto her elbows to cage around you.

It’s taking all your energy to stay as quiet as possible to hear the absolutely devastating noises that are leaving your girl.

Something in you blooms as you watch Sevika’s usually sharpened, stoic facade crumble. Her cheeks dust rosy as your eyes roam her figure not knowing what or where to settle on. Sevika’s already pussy drunk—completely stupefied. That much you can tell. The way her eyebrows furrow, arching upward is merely one sign. A permanent shiver racks her body at even your slightest change or quirk of your body. A beat passes where both of you are still, clearly waiting for someone to make a move. And then it clicks. What Sevika wants you to do. and all of a sudden you find your hand at her throat pulling her into a deep kiss. “Yeah like th-that ohgod.”

Sevika leans closer finally letting your hands guide her hips where you want them. And where you want them is bucking down onto you. You need her clit against yours. You need to feel the way her cunt just drips as you coo praises up at her. “So pretty like this, huh?” Your words are slurred from the pleasure each time she grinds down onto your now sloppy pussy. Sevika shakes her head fervently trying to keep some semblance of dominance. Trying and failing to pretend she was unbothered by your vulgar words and even sultrier actions, but it wouldn’t work. As you leave biting marks on her collarbone, the resulting noise that you drag out of her is so throughly debauched you moan back her name in response.

“I’m going to stop if you don’t speak up.” You tsk up at her. Your words are nothing but lies. You need to cum just as much as Sevika does, but you’re in love with the indignant, pained expression that falls over her features, her restraint finally snapping when you threaten her. “No—ah-baby please it feels so—so good oh god oh my god!” Sevika all but wails into your chest, as you meanly hum in mock thought, you’re sure that the throbbing in your cunt gives you away. When was the last time you were this wet?

“Hmm. Should I let you cum Vika? you’ve been so….” you cut yourself off by squeezing her neck ever so slightly, and in result Sevika’s mouth drops open, this time staying there as you continue to toy with her. “so ‘bratty’…” You giggle, as Sevika shakes her head again. “I’m-fuck-‘m not a brat.” Sevika hitches out indignant. Her deep raspy lilt long gone, in its place a broken whimper. “Please I’m—Please I’ve been good I wanna-“ She cuts herself off as her eyes roll back for the nth time of the night. The pleasure coils painfully in your tummy, the tightly wound knot ever so close to snapping.

“Then cum for me Sevika.” you manage breathily as your clit rubs against hers oh so addictively that your hips buck up to meet Sevika’s erratic thrusts.

“Oh God-hahh—”

Sevika falls into you, head burying into your shoulder as she all but creams on your overly sensitive pussy.

“Just like—ah- that I got you.” You purr comfortingly, managing to hook your leg around her thigh holding her still. The silence envelops the two of you comfortably as you breathe in an overwhelmed yet satisfied breath. The quiet continues and you think that Sevika has simply fallen asleep on top of you as you lean back into the ruffled up pillows.

“I…wouldn’t mind doing that again.” Sevika raspy low lilt is amusedly back—like it had never left, and you can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as you nod eagerly cuddling closer in her arms.

#sevika smut #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika #wlw #lesbian #wlw smut #sevika my love #sevika x female reader #sevika x reader smut #arcane sevika #sevika x you #sevika x y/n #sevika drabble #sevika headcanon #lesbian smut #sub!sevika #sub!sevika smut

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manic-quinn · 2 hours ago

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i once had to break up with someone while we were still in love. i was going through a rough patch and they needed more than i had to give. right person, wrong time

they tried to get back together with me on 3 separate occasions in the following month

the first time they sent me this long text about how

“we could work together so that it’s different this time. you didn’t let me help you with your issues and i never communicated mine. i just can’t shake the feeling that we made a mistake”

i missed them dearly and i almost went back…but they hadn’t changed and neither had i. as much as i wanted to pretend we could work on it, i knew that it would just be a matter of time before we broke up again. breaking their heart once almost killed me and i simply couldn’t risk doing it again. so i wrote a heartfelt paragraph to say

“i wish you the best and i want to make you happy, but it’s only been a week and nothings changed. im sorry but no”

it hurt, but it was necessary. i hope they understood where i was coming from. then a few days later, they texted me again and said

“we had something special” (and we did) “i take all the blame. you were always enough, all i need is you”

again, i thought about it for a moment…but the truth is that if they didn’t have needs then we wouldn’t have broken up. i knew i was just as much to blame as them. they just wanted the grief to go away and would say anything to make it happen. if we got back together, id let them down again so i wrote a few short sweet sentences telling them that

“you have a lot to offer and you’ll find someone else. ill always be rooting for you. im sorry, but no”

the third time they insisted on calling. i told them I wouldn’t change my mind, but they insisted things would be better if we could talk over the phone. for 45 minutes, they repeated everything they ever said. trying to find anything that would change my mind.

“ive never felt like this before”

i tried to be gentle with them but there are only so many ways you can say

“im sorry but no”

eventually they ran out of words. they apologized and said they’d leave me alone, but ill never forget what they said before we hung up

“i wish i could’ve written this off like you did”

they thought that I had just moved on and what we had meant nothing to me i didn’t know how to explain that every time i said

“im sorry, but no”

what i really meant was

“i love you enough to let you go”

#my writing #writeblr #writers and poets #writing #writers on tumblr #poetry #autism #love #mental health #quotes

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unconventional-lawnchair · 2 days ago

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Lily's Touch

Poly!Marauders + Lily x Reader who's experiencing her first heat...

Summary: The reader is experiencing her first heat, and nothing matter how hard she tries, she can't get the nest right.

WC: 1.4k

CW: Omegaverse, grammar and spelling, not proof read, references of intense emotions and the reader is elf conscious.

Remus knew it was coming- everyone did.

Seven years of Hogwarts, two years of living with your mates, and not once had you experienced a heat.

It didn’t bother him, not really. It didn’t bother any of them, but they all knew how much it bothered you. The way your shoulders tensed when Lily went into heat, how you’d quietly dote on her with sweet affections, offering soothing touches and cups of tea. But when it came to yourself, you withdrew, closing in on yourself like you didn’t deserve the same attention. You never said it outright, but they could see it- the way you felt left behind, as though your body had somehow failed you. It broke his heart.

They’d tried to comfort you in countless ways. Late-night reassurances, Remus’s soft words murmured over cocoa, James’s hand squeezing yours with that protective and reassuring energy, Sirius teasing you relentlessly until you couldn’t help but laugh, and Lily’s endless supply of comfort. They’d spent nights making sure you knew that even if you never went into heat, even if your body never did what you expected, it wouldn’t change how much they loved you. You were theirs, no matter what. But words only went so far.

Yesterday, everything changed.Remus was the first to notice.

It started small; little things, like the way you trailed after them through the house, never straying too far from anyone’s side. You clung to Sirius’s shirt that morning as he made breakfast, your fingers twisting in the fabric absentmindedly. Sirius had given you a curious look but said nothing, choosing instead to ruffle your hair and tease you lightly about being clingy. Normally, you’d respond with a sassy remark or a playful shove, but this time, you simply leaned into his touch with a quiet hum.

James noticed next. You curled up beside him on the couch, tucking yourself under his arm like you belonged there, and he didn’t question it. He simply wrapped an arm around you, pressing a soft kiss to your temple while Lily smiled knowingly from across the room.

By midday, it was undeniable. You were restless, unsettled in a way none of them had seen before. Your instincts were bubbling just beneath the surface, tugging at you in directions you didn’t fully understand. And by evening, it all came to a head.

The last sign was when Remus got up to move. You’d been half-curled in Sirius’s lap, Remus’s fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your ankle. But the moment he shifted to stand, you stared at him, wide-eyed and panicked, as if the simple act of him moving away was too much to bear.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Remus cooed softly, pausing in place. He hadn’t meant to upset you, but the way your eyes began to water sent a sharp pang through his chest.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled, your voice small and shaky. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Remus whispered gently, stepping closer again. “Come here.” He opened his arms, and you immediately clung to him, pressing your face into his jumper with a sniffle of a cry.

That night, Remus took you to bed with him, and the simple act of being close seemed to calm you. But it was only the beginning.

The next day, it became clear to everyone- this was it. You were going into heat for the first time.

No one said a word, not wanting to put pressure on you. The human body was strange, and any small thing could ruin this. They wanted you to experience it at your own pace, to live through it without the weight of expectations. But by afternoon, as everyone gathered in the living room, it became impossible to ignore.

You’d gotten it into your head that you needed to build a nest. It started with a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner of the room, but no matter how much you arranged and rearranged them, it didn’t feel right. You’d build it up, only to tear it apart moments later, frustration growing with every failed attempt.

Remus had seen it coming- how you were spiraling between uncertainty and instinct, your body and mind at odds with something new and overwhelming. It made his chest ache, watching you struggle to build your nest, tearing it apart moments later as frustration clouded your features. He wanted to reach out, to tell you again that it didn’t matter if it was perfect. That you didn’t need to prove anything to them. You were enough. You always had been.

But he knew better. You needed to figure it out in your own way. Still, he stayed close, crouched beside you, ready to help if you asked.

Lily’s voice was calm and soothing, her fingers brushing through your hair as she murmured reassurances. “It’s okay, love. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But it feels wrong.” Your voice trembled, hands twisting in the fabric of a blanket as though it might somehow yield the answer you were looking for. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“It’s strange the first time,” Lily said gently, her hand never pausing in its soothing strokes. “You’re doing great, I promise.”

You didn’t seem convinced. Remus could see the doubt weighing on you, the way your shoulders tensed under Lily’s touch. It wasn’t frustration anymore; it was fear. Fear of doing it wrong. Fear of not being enough.

“You’re trying too hard,” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “It’s okay to ask for help.”

“I don’t want to mess it up,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “I just… I want to impress you. I want it to be good. I want to do it right for once.”

The words hit him harder than he expected. You didn’t need to impress them. You didn’t need to be anything other than who you already were. He reached out, gently taking your trembling hands in his own, giving them a soft squeeze. “You don’t have to impress us,” he said quietly. “We already think you’re incredible.”

James knelt beside you, hazel eyes warm with quiet affection. “We’re proud of you,” he whispered. “No matter what.”

Sirius plopped down on your other side, grinning as he draped an arm around your shoulders. “Come on then, what is it?”

You blinked at him, confused. “What’s what?”

Sirius shrugged, voice teasing but kind. “What’s that pretty head saying? What’s it want you to do?”

For a moment, you hesitated. Remus could see the conflict in your eyes, the way you bit your lip nervously. But then, something shifted. You let out a shaky breath, slowly rising to your feet. They all watched in silence as you paused, glancing around the room like you were searching for something. Your fingers twitched at your sides, your breathing uneven.

And then, as though pulled by an unseen thread, you turned and made your way toward the shared room. You hesitated at the door, casting a glance back at them, eyes uncertain, before stepping inside.

Remus followed quietly, stopping in the doorway as you approached Lily’s nest. He didn’t say anything, didn’t want to disturb whatever instinct was guiding you now. He only watched as you reached out, running your fingers over the soft blankets and pillows that made up Lily’s carefully crafted space.

You knelt down slowly, curling into the nest with a soft, content sigh, as though it was the only place you’d ever wanted to be. Lily covered her mouth with her hand, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she took in the sight of you nestled in her space. There was something unspoken between the two of you, something so deeply emotional that it made Remus’s throat tighten.

Of course. Of course, this was where you’d end up.

Was it really all that shocking? You had always been Lily’s girl. Always gravitated toward her warmth, her comfort. It made sense in a way that felt almost poetic, that your first heat would lead you to her nest, to the place where you felt safest.

Remus smiled softly to himself, heart aching with affection as he watched Lily crawl in beside you, wrapping her arms around you protectively. You sighed again, melting into her hold, and Remus knew- no matter how long it had taken, no matter how difficult it had been for you to get here- you were finally where you belonged.

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the-witty-pen-name · 3 days ago

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The Love Triangle From Hell (3)

Steve Harrington x F!Reader / Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Synopsis: Following PART TWO, Steve feels even more distant from his friends- especially you; Eddie reflects on memories he has of you two; Nancy and Jonathan work together for the paper; Robin does her best to navigate what being friends with you and Steve looks like; you seek comfort in one of the only ways you know how- calling Eddie

Series Masterlist

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; allusions to violence; miscommunication; jealousy; kissing; implications of smut; horniness

A/N: You guys are literally the absolute best. I am having the best time writing this- I'm so inspired by all of you. The love you have shown this fic so far has me overwhelmed. Thank you for your kind words, you have helped me work through some serious writer's block. Your comments and reblogs are keeping me going fr

This is unedited; please let me know what you think and if I missed anything I should include as a warning.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

His hands are tangled in your hair and he’s pulling you in close for another searing kiss. He can’t catch his breath, but he’s just so desperate to stay close to you like this. Your lips are so soft against his and your mouth is so inviting as you yank him closer. You whimper against his lips and it makes him shiver. He feels weak in the knees as you feel so pliable to his touch. You melt into his embrace and sigh happily as his lips trail down your neck.

“Want you,” you moan softly, tugging his hair. He groans at the sensation. “Need you so bad.”

“‘M gonna take care of you,” he promises, bringing his lips back to yours.

“Love you,” you moan.

Before he finds out if he says it back, his alarm goes off and he’s brought back to his reality. He groans disappointedly, covering his ears with his pillow- desperate for a couple more minutes with dream you. There’s a bang at his door.

“Steve! Turn that shit off!” Eddie calls from the other side of the door. He’s yelling but his tone is playful. Steve hits his alarm off and drudges out of bed finally. Eddie has coffee made and Steve forgets anything is wrong at the moment.

“Did she say anything last night?” Steve asks groggily as he pours himself a cup.

“Um, not really,” Eddie replies, taking a moment to think about it. “I mean, yes but not about anything that we don’t know already. She’s conflicted, she doesn’t know what to think or feel. She just wants time.”

“Okay,” Steve replies, leaning up against the counter. He takes a sip of his coffee. He needs to get to work. He can talk about this with Robin when he gets there.

When you called Eddie, you didn’t expect Steve to answer. You thought maybe he’d say something- you wanted him too. But he didn’t. You couldn’t read him anymore.

Eddie was thrilled to hear your voice. He’d missed you, and he’d missed talking to you. He wanted that piece back as soon as he could get it. He reveled in the way his name sounded coming from you.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologize, “I didn’t mean to upset Steve- I heard the way he dropped the phone down…”

“It’s okay sweetheart,” he says compassionately. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s met with a sad feeling of silence.

“I’m happy you called,” he says gently. He hopes the sentiment makes you feel better.

“I’ve missed you,” you admit, and Eddie feels like his heart might swell out of his chest.

“It’s hard when the two people who you talk about everything with are the people you want to talk about,” you joke, and he laughs with you.

“You can talk shit about me,” he teases and he hears you groan. He bites his lip, holding back a smile.

“How are you doing?” You ask, changing the subject.

“Much better now,” he flirts.

“How are you doing, really?” You ask again, your voice sounding more fragile.

“I meant, honestly- not great. But not worse than anyone else is doing right now.”

“Yeah…”

“I miss you a lot too,” he admits. He runs a hand through his hair, and it reminds him of how amazing it felt the last time you played with his hair. He’s craving that touch so badly.

When you both were in high school, Eddie went out of his way to make sure you always had a seat at the table. He’d notice as you stood with your cafeteria tray, waiting for Steve to realize there was no open seat for you at his table. He’d wave obnoxiously to catch your eye and he’d smile at the way you’d get shy from the attention. He’d point at the empty seat next to him, and he’d grin as your eyes light up in realization you had a spot. You’d shuffle through the crowd and take your seat next to him. You’d take a seat and ruffle his hair in your hands.

Eddie was always a creature of habit. As much as he exudes chaos, he actually thrives in having a routine. Don’t get him wrong- it’s never been a good routine… but it’s routine nonetheless. In high school it was a lot of the same. Tuesdays, Corroded Coffin played at The Hideout. He would get home way too late and never get in bed until close to 3am. Wednesday mornings, he’d sleep through his alarm and stroll into first period consistently 10ish minutes late. Thursdays he prepped for Hellfire, and then of course, the piece the resistance was Friday. Hellfire. An epic campaign that would run several hours and ensure the most recent shit week had been worth it to make it to that moment.

He remembers that he was paralyzed when the group proposed to postpone Hellfire one time his first senior year. It snaps him out of his thoughts, as he was so wrapped up in you- and how close you were sitting. Eddie knew that hypothetically, it shouldn’t matter if the date changes. However, he couldn’t wrap his head around change. He hated it- still does. A disruption from his status quo throws off his entire week and it will take him too long to mentally recover. He knew that he came off as a hard ass, but he prefers it than trying to explain his mind to his friends. He had felt his jaw tighten as he tried to rationalize with himself that it can be okay to switch it up. He unclenched his fists once he realized that he was making his knuckles white unintentionally.

“Uh yeah, no problem. Saturday’s fine,” he was able to manage through gritted teeth. He relaxed when he could look past himself and see his friends smile, thanking him and happily chatting about the campaign. He smiled when he observed that his decision made everyone happy. That for him outweighed the internal struggle.

He didn’t really listen to the reason everyone wanted to reschedule, but he picked up on after the fact that everyone is talking about the Snow Ball. He couldn’t help but recoil back into himself as his friends talked about their plans to go- who they’re asking, what suit they’re getting, what songs would play, and whatever. He couldn’t have cared less. Unless…

His eyes wandered to sneak a glance at you. He wondered if you had plans- maybe you're hoping someone asks you. Maybe, he’s lucky and you were hoping that someone would be him. He wondered if you had a date. Maybe you already had been asked. It’s not like you had been aware of the way Eddie’s felt about you- unrequited feelings that tugged on his focus constantly since he’s known you. You caught his eye and offered him a shy smile and he could crumble.

Eddie immediately averted his gaze, and focused his attention back on his friends. He ignored the way his face suddenly became so warm and he ignored the butterflies that were swarming around in his stomach. He couldn’t allow himself to dwell on these feelings- he knew that there’s no way you feel the same. Who could possibly like him?

He felt a pressure when the freshman looked at him, one of them having asked Eddie about his own plans. Eddie sees the way the kids look up to him, they idolize him. He knows they think he’s cool. He can’t let that go just yet, he loved it too much. He needed it. He wanted to have them hang on to this version of him for as long as they’d believe in it.

So, despite his usual distaste in school sanctioned functions, he did not want to allow the kids to think he couldn’t score a date. He could only blame society so much before they realized it’s actually his own fear of putting himself out there that cramped his dating life more than anything else. He then resolves that he needs a date to this dance. He tells himself that it’s for the freshman, to keep up the cool facade or whatever. But in actuality, he just wanted to ask you because he wants to ask you out. It’s his perfect window of opportunity.

“Oh, I hadn’t thought about it, honestly,” you said, when one of the freshmen asked you if you had plans. “I’d been so busy with the play, I haven’t had a chance.” Eddie watched as you glanced over to Steve’s table. “Steve and I usually would go to this kinda thing,” you said quickly, and Eddie could see your apprehension despite your best attempt to hide it. “We’ll probably go as friends again.”

He said nothing.

A few days later, you called Eddie and he could immediately tell you’re upset. You’re doing your best to hold it together but he can tell you’re almost at your breaking point.

“Hey,” you say, your voice straining as you try not to cry. “I know this is totally not your thing, but I’m kind of in a bind.”

“What can I do?” He asked, sitting up straight on his bed. He was getting ready to locate his shoes or his keys- thinking you’re in trouble somewhere. He’ddrop anything to come get you.

“I know you’d probably rather do literally anything else, but um, I have two tickets to the Snow Ball and I already bought a dress…”

“I thought you’d be going with Steve?” He asked. You sniffled.

“Um, yeah I kind of just assumed he’d take me. I didn’t realize that he asked out Nancy Wheeler,” you choked back tears. “I mean it’s not like that,” you lied, maybe not to Eddie but more to yourself, “we’re just friends. But I still thought He and I would be going together like as friends again- you know? But, uh, yeah- he is taking like a real date.”

“I know you’d hate it, and I will make it up to you. But, I already bought the tickets and I can’t get my money back. It’s like not a date or anything, just like a friend thing…”

“I’d be happy to take you,” he replied, sincerely. He can tell you were expecting him to fight you on it. When would you catch on that he’s willing to do anything for you?

“Eddie, thank you so much,” you sniffled, still trying your best to keep it cool. “I owe you one,” your voice cracks and you hang up quickly before he gets a chance to say anything.

Eddie didn’t really understand back then why you were even friends with Steve to begin with. Eddie thought Steve, frankly, was a total douchebag. However, once he actually got to know Steve- it was a different story. He couldn’t resent Steve. He loved him like a brother now. And once Eddie got to know the Steve you’ve always known, your feelings for him made sense. But at the same time, Eddie held his tongue for all the things Steve did or didn’t do for so long. Steve was good guy at his core, Eddie understood. But his actions didn’t reflect that in Eddie’s eyes. But it wasn’t his place to tell you that. It didn’t seem right. You’d known Steve so much longer than him.

Nancy and Jonathan invited you and Robin to go with them to watch Lucas’ basketball game. You were excited to get out of your little apartment and support Lucas. Jonathan was photographing it for The Hawkins Post. Jonathan paced up and down the court side to get photos, and you sat up in the bleachers with Nancy and Robin. You were never one to go to school things really, but it was Lucas’s senior year and it was a big game- of course you were going to be there.

“It feels weird, Steve not being here,” Nancy whispers to you and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, everything just feels weird right now,” you agree. “You and Jonathan are okay?”

“We’re good. We’re doing good, um, still working through stuff but we’re going to just work through it.”

“That’s good.”

“Robin?” Nancy asks, and Robin turns her head to pay attention. “How’s things with Vicky?”

Robin’s face turns tomato red. “Fine,” she mumbles, happily. “I’m gonna hang out with her tomorrow.” You elbow her teasingly, making her blush redden.

“How’s it feeling? Being the best at all of this out of us?” You tease.

“I don’t know,” she’s so embarrassed, it’s so sweet. “We both just like each other- it’s not that complicated. She’s so great.”

The three of you turn your attention back to the game at the sound of the whistle. You clapped and cheered the loudest whenever Lucas had the ball. He tried to plead with the lot of you to tone it down, casting weary looks in your direction. You couldn’t help yourselves. You felt so proud of him.

You decide to take a walk to the concession stands and get some snacks for everyone. You order four sodas and two large popcorns- one for Jonathan and Nancy and one for you and Robin. You fish the cash out of the front pocket of your jeans, and hand it to the kid working the window. You thank him, and balance it all in your hands to navigate carefully back to the stands.

You see a familiar face coming down the hallway, sprinting. For a moment, you can’t help the smile that forms across the expanse of your face until you remember what’s been going on. Your face falls, and you feel so stupid for being excited to see him when it hits you again all at once.

You don’t think Steve knew you’d all be here, because he looks just as surprised to see you. He stops and his sneakers squeak across the polished gym floor. He looks at you with an expression of pure panic. He totally didn’t think you’d be here. And you’re surprised he came alone- but of course he did, he’s Steve. Of course, he’s going to show up to every game for Lucas. You shouldn’t expect any less. It still takes you back.

“Can I help with those?” he asked, gesturing for you to pass some stuff to him. You nod, and tilt so he can take some of the things from your grasp.

“Where are you sitting?” He asks, and you nod your head towards Robin and Nancy. His face deflates. “Ah, okay.” He walks over with you, and he passes the items in his hand off to Robin. He moves aside so you can walk back into your spot.

“Thanks, Steve,” you offer him a soft smile, appreciating the effort despite the circumstances.

“Yeah of course,” he mutters, backing away, lingering for a moment because the seat that’s usually there for him between you and Robin isn’t there. He quickly pulls himself out of his thoughts and just heads over to the next row of bleachers, finding a seat next to a couple of his old basketball teammates that are here for their little brothers.

Steve can’t even focus on the game, he keeps trying to steal glances of you from his peripheral vision. He wants to know what Robin said that made you laugh like that, and he wished he could have heard your laugh- but you’re too far away from him. He watches as your jaw drops at something Nancy tells you, and he watches how you cheer so happily for Lucas. He wants to know if this is bothering you the way it’s bothering him. You look like you’re keeping it together and he wants to know if that could truly be the case.

Even when you’re carrying so much hurt, you give off such a radiance that Steve and he’s sure everyone else is just drawn into. Your pretty smile and your bright eyes are all he can think about- he only knows when to cheer when he feels the people around him move. He smiles when you stand up and pose, pointing to Lucas- then Lucas matches it, giving it back to you. He watches as you both share that moment of just pure joy, and his heart aches. He doesn’t know if he could ever make you that happy.

When the game was over, you looked to see if you could find Steve but there was no sign of him. You all invited Lucas to go out for celebratory pizza for his big win, but he wanted to go with his teammates. The plan fizzled pretty much after that. Robin wanted to get home so she could call Vicky and Jonathan and Nancy wanted to head home so Jonathan could start developing his photos. When you and Robin are walking out, you see a familiar van.

“I’ll bum a ride from Nancy,” Robin assures you, pushing you in Eddie’s direction. She waves to Eddie from a distance and then jogs to catch up with Nancy and Jonathan.

“What are you doing here?” you ask with a smile. He pushes himself off of the hood of his van and walks over to you, his hands in the back pockets of his jeans.

“I thought you might be here,” he quips. “Plus, I had to poke my head in- Sinclair is some big shot apparently?” he jokes, “I had to check out for a few minutes.”

“He’s really great,” you agree.

“Was Steve here?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah I saw him. He didn’t really stay either- I mean he stayed for the game, but we didn’t talk really.” You shrug.

“Well,” he says, trying to optimistically change the subject, “Do you wanna get out of here? I could give you a ride home or we could get food or something- or even just drive around and not talk. I’m not picky.”

He looks so beautiful like this, you observe. The sky is pitch black but the lights in the parking lot illuminate him perfectly with a soft glow. His hair is wonderfully messy and his smile is making it hard for you to breathe. Has he always looked like this? You wonder, astonished as it hits you all at once. He’s gorgeous. Your eyes linger, taking in every little detail you’ve overlooked before. He waves his hand in front of your face to snap you out of your trance.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he tisks.

“Looking at you like what?”

“Like you’re trying to jump my bones,” he chuckles. Your face warms, and suddenly you realize how long you must have been staring.

“Ha, right,” you joke sarcastically, or at least, trying to joke sarcastically. You walk past him and get into the passenger side of the van and try your best to compose yourself in the few seconds it takes for him to follow suit.

“Okay, sweetheart,” he says, turning over the ignition, “where to?”

“Can we just drive around like we used to?” you ask- the circumstances of tonight making you feel so nostalgic.

“Of course we can,” he hums, passing you the case of his cassettes- a familiar and welcomed sight for your tired eyes.

You watch Eddie as he drives, and observe the way the muscles in his arms flex ever so subtly as he turns the wheel. You watch his ringed fingers tap across the top of the steering wheel and you can’t help it the way your mind wanders. You’re so wrapped up in the way his hair sways so effortlessly and the movement of his jaw as he sings, you don’t even notice that Steve was leaving the gym just in time to see you both drive away.

After a little while of aimless driving, and hitting up the drive thru, Eddie ends up parking at Lover’s Lake when neither of you are ready to go home just yet.

“Eddie?” You ask absentmindedly, finishing off the milkshake he got you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot,” he replies, also finishing his, but with an obnoxiously loud suck of his straw- determined to get every last sip.

“Why do you like me?” you ask, cringing almost immediately. You think you sound like a middle schooler or something- you’re so embarrassed. His eyes widen for a brief second, contemplating his answer. He tosses the empty cup into the back.

“First off,” he criticizes teasingly, “I did not say I liked you- I’m in love with you. Get your facts straight, ma’am.”

“My apologies,” you giggle, holding your hands up in defeat.

“I mean- I love everything about you; always have,” he starts. “You’re sweet and kind. I think you’re beautiful. I think you’re incredible, and sometimes I can’t figure out why you wanted to ever be friends with me in the first place.”

“Eddie?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“Would you kiss me?”

Eddie’s a goner when you’re looking at him with those doe eyes. More than anything he wants to lunge across and close the space between you. It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It takes every fiber of his being to hold himself back..

“I don’t know if I can kiss you without knowing if I could ever kiss you again,” He whispers, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning in towards you. His hand lifts to hold your cheek and suddenly he’s so close. Closer than the two of you have ever been. His lips are tantalizingly close to yours when his forehead touches yours. A huge bang on the side of the van scares you both away from each other.

“Give her time, my ass, Munson! Get the fuck out here! Get your fucking hands off my girl!”

Taglist:

@sunshinepeachx @downbear @fanlifeaamt @exploding-bonbon @losingmygrasponreality @skiddypiddy @andvys @djodirt @moonlightsolo @kyga01 @sheisjoeschateau @melaninjhs

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william-t-sickofyourshit · 2 days ago

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As they ordered their food, William got a mango drink with little jelly coconut bits floating inside. The waitress brought these first, and William sipped happily, chewing on the little jellies that floated through his straw. Once Sebastian spoke up again, William looked up, smiling at him gently.

“It’s okay, honey…” he reassured, swallowing a mouthful of his mango drink. “...I understand, really. It’s a frustrating situation, and I get that you would just want to… put it all behind you.” William sighed, trying to choose his words carefully. He didn’t want Sebastian to overthink, to worry too much, and he definitely didn’t want him to just… refuse treatment because he was scared of it. But, at the same time, he knew he needed to validate Sebastian’s feelings just as well.

“But it will be alright, my love, I promise.” William smiled softly, reaching over the table to take Sebastian’s hand. He picked up his palm tenderly, and caressed it affectionately with his thumb. “Look how far you’ve gone already. When you received the diagnosis you were so scared and confused and everything was so unsure… and now look. You’re already post-surgery, cancer free, good results… it’s already such progress. And it will be just the same with this follow-up treatment.” he said, his voice firm. William made sure to sound optimistic and supportive, he wanted Sebastian to know that he will be there for him every step of the way.

“It will be over before you know it. And then… you will be healthy. And we will pick up where we left off.” William promised.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

#for i have sinned

15K notes · View notes

01zfan · 21 hours ago

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sweetheart | l. at

nerd!anton x nerd!reader | 5.1k words

a request i got and it kinda made me go a little insane.

contains: anton pretends to be an insecure little nerd to plot on the reader, fingering, reader is implied to be a virgin

Anton is a sweetheart. He’s non assuming and soft spoken, so quiet that he has to clear his throat each time he speaks. He’s kind, always extending the same tenderness and patience to people he received as a child. He’s one of the few men in his program that the girls didn’t have trouble approaching if they had a question or trouble with an assignment.

Each time anyone approached him with a question he was helpful, pushing his thick frames up his face before leaning to the paper. With a pencil he’d mark where the mistake was, and explaining it with a gentle voice that had girls leaning in even closer.

After they got a smell of his cologne and the look of his soft skin everything else was easy. The girls would tilt their heads in curiosity about Anton, intrigued at how someone so shy made it this far in life. How someone was so cute from afar but something more once you got close. All he had to do was avoid their eyes and chew his lip a few times before they were sliding their phones over to him.

Just in case I need help with another assignment.

Anton’s eyes would always widen in shock. Not from the surprise of being pursued but just how easy it all was. The girls never found out that Anton was red in the face from the rush and he ducked his head to hide a smile of satisfaction. They would laugh lightly seeing his reaction, observing what they thought was insecurity. Before going on about their day they’d touch his shoulder or pull on him playfully.

Anton is a sweetheart.

But he also has a problem.

He knows he does. His friends compared it to a sweet tooth that bordered addiction, or someone who would walk into a casino with a twenty dollar bill expecting to hit big. They sometimes even called Anton a psychopath when he’d get all giddy telling them about his day.

Anton knew he had a problem, but it was hard to stop when he got the sweet fix or hit the jackpot each time. Nothing could top the feeling of euphoria Anton would get when he’d come to one of those girls after they asked him to come to their place. He’d look at the messages in the comfort of his room and smile, knowing what it meant when they’d preface the study session by saying they were alone. He’s addicted to the game he’d play every time, faking the shy and insecure nerd that pretty girls were going to eat for dinner. Like they were throwing him a bone by inviting him to their apartment or dorm under the guise of doing homework.

They’d answer the door in something easy to take off or something that would cling to them like a second skin. If they were particularly desperate it’d be both, yoga pants that showed everything and a cropped shirt that rode up with every movement. Anton loved shamelessly gawking at the girls behind his glasses, shuffling from foot to foot in front of them before they invited him in. He waited for each direction, eyes darting around their room before he was invited to sit down or told to take out his notebook. He would purposefully be a step behind, showing how lost he was to be in a room that didn’t belong to him or his other intraverted friends.

He loved letting the girls make the first move. On their bed settling in as they really got a look at him in the setting of their room. Something about how clueless he was made the girls all the more strung up. He looked everywhere but at them, shrinking himself on their bed. His timidness made the girls love making the first subtle touch on his flexed arm, or purposefully grabbing his pencil so they could compare hand sizes. Anton loved acting like he was nervous wreck from the longing stares to the side of his face, like he hadn’t done this dance a million times before. He loved messing up his words while trying to act oblivious to the hungry look in their eyes. He loved the pretty smile the girls would get like he was the one falling into their trap.

His absolute favorite part was when they’d turn his head with their soft hands. Anton would falter from the eye contact, letting his lips part in confusion as they focused on him. The notebooks and assignments between them long forgotten as they shuffled closer to him on the bed.

“Have you ever been with a girl before?”

They’d always ask that. Voices light and airy, already having an answer in their mind.

“I have.”

He’d always answer with a stutter. The falter in his voice never made them push any further. They assumed by Anton’s darting eyes that the number was so minuscule asking about it would only embarrass him.

(He stopped being embarrassed of his conquests a long time ago. He also stopped being able to keep track.)

Anton is a sweetheart, with a problem of seeing pretty girls eyes flash when they realize that he is more than capable.

The moment was always the same. The mood in the room would change when Anton would sheepishly take off his oversized hoodie. Each time silence would settle over the room when they saw what he was hiding underneath. His undershirt hugged close to his body, showing the chisel and the hard work he put in at the gym. When he was feeling tired while working out he’d replay the sight of the girls taking in his toned body. They’d reach out to touch his chest as if they were expecting it all to be fake, other times they would just let out a breathless wow.

He always basked in seeing the girls try to maintain their composure. They would become the ones averting their eyes and stumbling over their words. They would be shellshocked on their side of the bed, wondering what else he was hiding. But Anton was still sweet, he always was. He would always wait patiently to see if this was really what the girls wanted. He would pick at the seam of his pants and look down to the forgotten homework to let them know they could go back to what they were doing and pretend this never happened. But the obvious bulge in his pants always made pretty girls reach for the waistband of their pants without a second thought.

Anton was never sure if they gawked at him in an attempt to get his confidence up or if they were truly surprised. As if his build and height were no indicator, each time Anton took off his pants to reveal his dick they were always so shocked. That’s when the resolve would truly fall, when their jaws would drop and they’d blink their eyes from the sheer surprise. Precum would leak from his tip just from the sight of them coming to terms with what was twitching and red and angry in front of them.

“You’re big.”

The infliction in their voice was always different. Some girls would be excited, others would be confused, a few times they almost seemed disgusted. Like there was no way the shy kid in the back of the class was hiding this.

“Am I really?”

Anton wasn’t an idiot. Even if he said it looking down at the bed, he knew that he was endowed and it was pretty. But sometimes he just needed to hear it an extra time, or look up to see a quick head nod when they couldn’t fathom saying it again. He was an insecure nerd after all. The quiet recluse in the back of class that barely had friends. An absolute sweetheart that threw girls around and manipulated their bodies into positions they didn’t even know about.

He loved being a good fuck. For a long time he believed he was put on the Earth to fuck pretty girls and to stop them from judging books by their covers. Anton was killing two birds with one stone by cooing at girls condescendingly while he gave them everything. It was his civic duty to exert his strength and to kiss girls until they were breathless and his glasses fogged. Each time he heard I didn’t know you had that in you an angel gained it’s wings. Whenever they’d tell their girlfriends what the shy nerd did to them in their dorm Anton was making the world a better place. Sometimes he would get called back, sometimes he would run through entire friend groups just to prove he was really committed to the cause.

No matter how many people Anton fucked, no one seemed to believe it. Like it was collective psychosis that the nerd was a good lay, or a big open secret everyone was hush about. Anton was still treated like he was meek, his soft nature made everyone believe he was an open book, so much to the point that they made wrong judgements about his character. He actually hated staying inside and enjoyed exploring the city and trying new things with his friends. He was a sensitive person but he could also advocate for himself and admit when he was wrong. He was quiet, but only because he valued personal, quiet conversations more than anything.

He eventually learned that people’s preconceived notions of him couldn’t be helped. Anton could fuck the entirety of the campus and people would still treat him like he was made of glass. He decided to be an optimist, finding the silver lining in people assuming he was the sweetheart with a cute smile. Their perception of him could’ve been worse, being shy was infinitely better than being loud and obnoxious. So when people would assume things about Anton’s personality he would only react positively. He would let his eyes go wide, acting shocked when someone would tell him about their first impression of him.

“I thought you were an asshole at first.”

You told Anton nonchalantly, as if his whole world didn’t crumble. You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you wrote on your lab report. You were too busy adjusting the calculations and reading over the proper way to dispose the chemicals a million times to make sure it was right while Anton sputtered to himself. He was caught off guard by your honesty and surprisingly quick answer as if it was on the forefront of your mind. You only tilted your head up for a second before you had the answer.

Anton didn’t know what to do about you. Just when he thought he had seen every girl in his major you came along, sitting in the back of class with him. You seemed to be the recluse of a person everyone mistook Anton for. You were in and out of class, not bothering to raise your hand during discussions or to socialize with your peers. You also didn’t seem to latch onto him like other girls of his major did. When they looked for Anton’s face in the lecture hall you walked right past him, not bothering to look up from your notebook or laptop. For the first time in his life Anton felt compelled to make the first move. He thought that you two had built up a good rapport, and that you saw him as your kindhearted and resigned classmate.

But you saw him as anything but that. You said it confidently too, and loud enough for your classmates at the next lab table to look over.

“What do you mean?” Anton said quietly.

You frowned looking up from the pamphlet. You were visibly annoyed, you even motioned to the undisposed chemicals to show him that you two still had class.

“Can we talk about this when our grade isn’t at stake, please?” You asked.

You weren’t commanding for his benefit. You weren’t taking into account that he might be afraid to hear a negative opinion about himself. You weren’t looking at him like girls had before, like you were trying to pick him apart for your own entertainment. You were willing to put validation for Anton on the back burner because you had other things to do. When Anton would have girls gush over him you were benevolent, indifferent to his fake insecurities.

The more you paid attention to your work rather than him, Anton found himself scrambling. He was working hard for your affection. When the teacher announced that class was over and lab reports were due the next morning he leapt at the chance to invite himself over. He was supposed to be shy and insecure, getting nervous over the mere thought of being alone with the opposite sex. His facade went over your head. Instead, Anton watched you do the cost-benefit analysis of inviting him over before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright. Just follow me.” You said before setting a ridiculously fast paced speed walk to the other side of campus.

But Anton followed you. He bobbed and weaved through crowds and essentially chased you across the common area while you continued on your pace. Other girls would walk with Anton, trying to pry information out from his clammy hands. You barely spared a second glance over your shoulder like you were trying to lose him. Anton followed you all the way to your dorm, then up the stairs, then waited for you beside your door as you put your backpack on your desk and pulled up a chair next to yours. You didn’t extend an invitation towards Anton to take a seat.

He waits for you to step in. He’s laid the trap by taking off his hoodie even though you kept your room cold, and shuffled his seat closer to yours. He put his elbows on the table next to yours coming closer to the lines you stopped writing on your paper.

He laid the trap. He can see you hesitate, looking from him to the assignment and then back to him. Anton keeps his eyes on the paper, rubbing his fingers over his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Do you work out?” You asked.

Your voice didn’t have the sultry infliction that girls usually had when they asked him that question. You didn’t reach across and squeeze his toned bicep or shamelessly drag your eyes over his broad shoulders. You asked the question simply, no other intention except for wanting an answer.

“I do. Sometimes.” Anton said.

You only hummed and went back to your paper. Anton scooted closer to you, hoping his Le Labo Lavande 31 and the hand across the back of your chair was invading your space enough for you to really get a good look at him. Anton watched your eyes dart again. You were nervous, eyes wide and Anton felt the rush.

“You smell nice.” You said.

The line was pulled from the trap. You’re caged in and Anton looks to you. He knows about the death grip you have on your pencil, it makes him brave enough to invade your space even more.

“You forgot to write your observations here.” Anton says, trying to make lab reports as sexy as possible.

This assignment would’ve been abandoned a long time ago. If this was anyone else it would’ve never made it out of their backpack. You were adamant about your work, looking at the tips of his pretty fingers where you left a spot blank. He should have his report out too. He should be writing something just like you try to, instead Anton leans closer and he swears the pencil in your hand is going to break from the pressure.

Is this how he should’ve been acting with those girls all that time? This is real nerves rolling off your body. The anxiety almost makes Anton nervous by extension, he shivers when he finally lets his hand on the back of your chair touch your body. You stiffen and he’s amazed. You went from being indifferent to being too aware. He feels you back away slightly, but when his hand tightens on your shoulder you lean in. You’re hot and cold, not knowing what you want. He can feel you tremble, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips.

“I’ve never done anything before.”

Anton comes closer. His hand that pointed at a random thing on your paper turns into a fist as he distracts you completely. He brings himself forward until he’s in your line of sight, even when you try so hard to look at anything but him. He smirks when your eyes dart past him, and he fully lets his arm rest across your back. You’re malleable, before you refused to even bend to him but now you move from his slightest touch.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You’ve never done what before?”

He should go for the nerds more often. The way you already seem sweaty and antsy just from thinking about what is happening makes Anton want to play with you some more. He knows it’s perverse, like a dog playing a smaller animal to death. He wants to see if you’ll twitch, if you’re playing dead just to try and make a run for it.

“I’ve never—I know that—” Anton raises his eyebrows and nods to each one of your broken statements. “It just seems like—”

“Like what?” He smiles and nudges you. His smile is toothy, yours is tightlipped to a straight line. “C’mon. Talk to me.” He continues.

“You smell really good.” You repeat.

You’re the twitching body of a mouse in his jaws. He just smile and nods at your statement, how you go back to saying old things in an attempt to catch your footing. He forces you to sit in the uncomfortable silence. He waits for you to say something knowing you can’t, he waits for you to touch him even if you’re caught like a deer in the headlights.

“I look good too, right?” He starts drawing shapes on your shoulder.

He’s having too much fun. He’s entertained seeing your intelligence fail you. You’re stumped, you drop your pencil to fully clench your fist.

The pencil is rolling back and forth on your lab report, the small sound is the only thing that speaks. You’re still desperately trying to figure out how you got into this situation, how one thing led to another so quickly that his hand is reaching underneath the sleeve of your shirt.

“You look good, Anton.” You agree.

“Thanks.” Anton smiles and you do too, averting your eyes and nodding to yourself to feign indifference. Anton looks down to your shirt, still playing with your skin underneath your sleeve. “You do too.” He says.

Another bout of silence. You let yourself be touched, hands still clenched on top of the table. Anton rests his hand on top of your fist, smoothing over the protruding veins trying to coax them open. This is more fulfilling than playing with popular girls. The game still hasn’t ended for him. He’s on the fifth consecutive jackpot when you finally open your mouth again.

“I don’t.” Your hand opens and Anton clasps over it, smiling to himself when it disappears. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” You stutter.

You’re too cute for your own good. Finally you look at him with big eyes and your eyebrows raised. You give into his touches a little more, finally warming up to all the attention. Still your pupils shake, and Anton brings his hand from your shoulder to your face to keep you from turning away.

“Can I make you feel good?” He asks.

You could barely nod before Anton was guiding you up from your chair and backing you towards your bed. He watched you stumble when the back of your legs hit the edge. You looked up at him, your pretty eyes already looking wet. Maybe he really did have a problem. Because he loved seeing them widen in surprise when he put his hands underneath your arms, lifting you up just enough to set you on the edge of your bed. He loved seeing your jostled expression and the tiny yelp when you landed so perfectly on your sheets.

Anton watched you stay in place, catching your breath from the sudden movement. He watched your chest still as his hands went to the bottom of his tank top. He’s grateful to have such a captive audience. There’s no way he can pretend to be shy after this. You’re astonished as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he watched you shamelessly stare at him before you realized he could see you.

Anton let you eat him alive before he came up to you, until you had to tilt your head upwards to see him. You didn’t dare lift your hands from the bed, like he was going to disappear the moment you touched him. Like he was straight from a dream you only looked up to him, waiting for what he was going to do next. Anton wonders if you thought you’d end up in this position, with him looming over you and his hand creeping to a spot under your chin. He absolutely can’t stop doing this. The view is too pretty, your stillness is addicting. Like you’re too afraid to even breathe too loud in case it’d break the tension. He bends closer to your lips, eyes still open after you screw yours shut. You preemptively grip your mattress for dear life and he can’t help but smile.

He smiles into the kisses, each peck bringing you closer and closer to your mattress. When your back is against the sheets Anton climbs on, refusing the break contact. You look so pretty underneath him, eyes squeezing shut again when another wave of realization hits you. You’ve never been in this position before, with someone like Anton looming over you while still being so sweet. He runs his hand over the apple of your cheek, and fixes your shirt that left your stomach exposed.

“Is this okay?” Anton asks.

He knows it is, because your legs seemed to spread a little bit more and more with each passing second. By the time his hand drifts down to your neck you’re completely open, your soft pants bunching at the place Anton wants to touch you next. The valley of your chest gives him a straight path down, and your bent legs open further.

“Want me to touch you?” He asks.

He knows he’s cruel. You’re metaphorically dead and his face is covered in blood, but still he continues. He’s jumping around your body, reaching out a playful hand like you have the life to play back.

“Please touch me.” You whine pitifully.

Anton presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as his hands work past the elastic band of your pants and underwear. You flinch from his hands, then you preen your hips towards his fingers, then you pull back. He’s mocking when he coos at you, the time pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He almost feels bad. You’re clearly fighting against something, your eyes are shut tight as you press your head into the mattress. Anton tries kissing your eyes open, but it only makes you squeeze them tighter.

With you writhing underneath him, he took the time to look around your room. Your little pegboard above your desk where you had calendar marked with all the important due dates of upcoming assignments. Your neatly placed books and papers, your stuffed animals around your pillows. You didn’t make your bed this morning, instead laying on crumbled sheets and gripping whatever you could get your hands on. Your hand went to Anton’s forearm and clutched it, whimpering something that he couldn’t decipher.

“Does it feel good?” He asks.

You nod, and when Anton tries to pull away he feels your nails dig into his forearm. You seem unaware of what you’re doing, how you’re silently begging him to keep going. You’re just moving underneath him, already beginning to twitch helplessly. Anton purposefully pushes his fingers deeper into your clit until he knows he’s bringing you the smallest amount of pain. He’s pulling the strings, watching your body react to him because you can’t control it. By this point the girls would already be asking him to take his pants off, but you can’t even form a coherent thought. He’s having fun in his jeans, watching you twitch and twist and grip his arm with all your might.

“Anton.”

You flick your hips up and he presses his hand to your hip, pinning you to the bed. You still try to swivel, useless against his strength. He’s intrigued that you aren’t trying to be defiant but you simply can’t help it. All the other girls were pliant immediately, so desperate to please the quiet boy in class they underestimated. You’re defiant because you can’t handle it.

“What’s up?” He asks.

His completely even voice makes you whine. The flush across your cheeks tells him you’re embarrassed, red hot and real unlike his facade.

You don’t answer him. You just dig your nails into his arm and attempt to get his prodding fingers to slide in. He raises his eyebrows at your not-so-subtle attempts to get him to inside of you.

“You want me to finger you?” He asks.

You nod like a good girl and Anton almost feels bad for asking you the question in a mocking tone. He makes up for it by giving you what you want immediately, sucking in a deep breath to match your deep breath. He smiles when he sees you arch off the bed. This is so much more entertaining than anything else. Just two fingers has you making unfiltered noises and gripping the sheets. Anton has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, and he has half a mind to ask you if you’re okay in a serious tone. But he just continues driving his fingers into your hole.

He picks up the speed, just to hear the lewd sound you two make. It’s wet, Anton can already feel the mess on the palm of his hand. He pulls your waistband down to your knees, bringing your thighs closer together. He has to fight against your soft thighs clenching around his hand. He’s still able to drive his fingers in and out of your heat. He likes the resistance even though you clearly want more. Anton is surprised when you lift your shirt on your own accord. It’s obvious you’re doing it to relieve some of the heat you feel, but he’s still flattered nonetheless. His hand presses against your stomach, applying force to the lowest part.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

That’s when Anton finally laughs. He chuckles at how panicked you sound and how you turn your head in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks while picking up the speed of his hand.

You nod your head but when Anton tries to pull his hand away you clench your thighs to keep him in place. He chuckles again, situating one legs on the side of your body and the other between your closed legs. He casts a shadow on you below him, and he can see your eyes open the slightest bit from his movements. He drives your legs apart with his knee, and continues pumping that spot deep in you that leaves you shaking your head.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

“You can.” Anton sees your eyes open, wide and staring directly at him as he drives your legs apart further. “You’re so close.” He says.

Your entire body moves from the speed of his fingers. Even your chests jumps underneath your shirt, and he wants to lift it up to reveal the rest of you. He lets you take it at your own pace since you’re giving him so much already. He just pinches and grabs a handful of your stomach, marveling in how soft you are.

“So cute.” Anton coos. “You had no idea, right?” He asks.

You shake your head and you don’t stop shaking it, like you’re trying to will away your impeding orgasm. Anton watches all of it. He’s never had a pretty girl twitch for him so much, or reach a greedy hand up to grip your chest. Something you do when you’re close, something he wants to do for you. His hand superimposes yours, and grips harder too. You’re arching into his palm and preening your hips on his fingers, and then he watches your body go rigid.

“You’re cumming.” Anton teases.

Your whimpering yes rips through the room, and Anton feels wound up himself. He has to set his sights on something else. Pretty confident girls are fun, but seeing your shame manifest in the way you push and pull at him is much more intoxicating. He likes that he knows what you want but you’re too scared to say it, it’s your body that has to act on its own to fulfill your needs. When you continue going, and your strangled moans turn to broken oh my God’s and your legs start shaking, Anton knows he won’t be able to get enough. He keeps pushing you further because he knows you can take it, and you continue whimpering. He doesn’t stop until you sound panicked, and your hand starts pushing his away.

He still looks down at you with a smile on his face. Your head is turned towards your fluffy comforter, exhaling and inhaling so hard you move the fur with your breath. He’s satisfied seeing what he’s done to you, and he’s even more amused when you turn your head to face him.

Your eyes are wide, your lips are swollen and slick from your mindless drooling. Anton feels something in his chest when your eyes move past his body to the prominent bulge in his pants. He’s a step ahead, shaking his head and moving back to rest on his haunches. That comes later, when he plays with you some more and you start voicing how badly you want to please him. When you reach your hand towards his crotch Anton grabs your hand instead, intertwining your fingers.

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” He says.

He’s a sweetheart, after all.

#requestz #01zfan: anton #anton smut #riize smut

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bonelessghoul · 2 days ago

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Blood, Sweat, and Tears

Summary: In a game that costs you your blood, sweat, and tears, Young Il is there to protect you from it all. After forging you way thus far with your own strength and will, you begin to realize just how much you'd grown to care for player 001. Note: This is lowkey a tidbit of something bigger I had been working on but I was so antsy to put it out there!!

There was a moment when you relinquished everything you knew about how to be human—when survival took over, and everything went cold. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, but as the curtains parted to reveal the massive room before you, the sheer vastness of it swallowed you whole. It was like a carousel stripped of its animals, the vacant platform stretching into a haunting void.

Your breath hitched as your new friends brushed by, awe painting their faces. But for you, awe was eclipsed by dread, your mind conjuring images of what would take the place of those carousel creatures.

“YN." A voice said, soft and steady, cut through your daze.

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped walking, your gaze frozen on the ceiling where the carnival-like top stretched impossibly high, its center receding into shadow. You turned your head to see Young Il, his face unreadable but his nod reassuring. You swallowed hard, nodding back as your feet reluctantly followed.

Behind you was Hyun Ju, player 120, and the odd group you had become apart of for the relay. You glanced back at them, Guam Je and her son above her with player 095 at their side. Gaum Je waved excitedly at you and you bowed your head, smile growing across your face.

“This game? We played it in school,” Jun Bae said, his eagerness to conquer bleeding into his tone. “We formed groups by hugging back then.”

Dae Ho, ever the pragmatist, glanced down at his fellow marine. “I think instead of hugging, we go into these rooms.”

The colored doors, bordered with arches of blinking carnival lights, seemed to mock you. Your heart raced as you scanned each one, already strategizing, already crumbling under the weight of possibilities.

Who would go where? How many would make it? What if one of you got left out?

These were thoughts you didn’t have before the relay; perfectly content in your own world of surviving and not having to worry about anyone else. It was almost a torturous game in itself when the survival of your new friends began to weigh as heavy as your own as you walked into this new game.

You didn’t even notice the tightness in your jaw until Young Il’s worried eyes found yours again. His look, calm but probing, was enough to pull you back.

He was another problem you unexpectedly faced here.

Once on the platform though, Gi Hun called you all into a tight huddle.

“If the number is bigger than six, we’ll get the additional people we need,” he explained.

“What if it’s smaller than five?” Dae Ho asked.

“Like four or even five?” you blurted, your voice cracking under the strain of your thoughts.

“Whatever happens, don’t panic,” Young Il interjected, his tone even but firm. “Stay calm.”

His gaze lingered on you as he spoke, grounding you in a way you didn’t know you needed. There was something in the steadiness of his voice, the way his words seemed to reach only you, that settled the storm within you.

“We’ll make it out together,” he said, placing his hand in the center of the group.

For a moment, you hesitated, your independence warring with the strange comfort his presence gave you. But then you took a breath and laid your trembling hand on his. The others followed suit, their hands piling over yours. As the huddle broke, your fingers brushed Young Il’s, and though you tried to pull away quickly, the brief contact was enough to remind you of what was at stake.

The platform jolted to life, a playful carnival tune echoing through the air. The motion sent a ripple through the group, and you stumbled, catching yourself against Young Il’s steady hand on your shoulder.

The music began, your heartbeat syncing with its rhythm, pounding in anticipation of the inevitable stop. When it did, the abruptness made your bones rattle. Instinctively, you gripped Young Il and Jun Hee’s arms, the three of you clinging together as the voice announced the number:

“Ten.”

Chaos erupted. Voices overlapped, bodies collided, and desperation filled the air. You clung to the five who surrounded you, your eyes darting frantically, searching for more.

“Hyun Ju!” you shouted, spotting her tall frame among 007, his mother, and 095. “We’re six over here!”

“How many are you?” Jun Bae demanded, urgency lacing his words as he tried to group everyone together and make sure it was the right number.

“Four!”

“Let’s go!”

Arms linked, you all sprinted toward door 44, a blur of motion and panic. The flashing pink lights disoriented you, but you held on tight, driven by the collective will to survive. As the door slammed shut behind you, relief washed over the room like a tidal wave.

Doubled over, you fought to catch your breath. But as your hands rested on your knees, they began to tremble uncontrollably.

“Is everyone here?” Dae Ho asked, his voice cutting through the heavy breathing.

A quick headcount confirmed it: all ten of you had made it. The knowledge brought a momentary reprieve, but your legs still shook as you leaned into the wall, your mind spinning.

Besides you, Geum Ja leaned her small frame upon yours, hand resting on your shoulder. She must have sensed the way your knuckles rattled in your skin beyond your control and from where you could see as your head hung down, her old yet soft hand covered yours.

Lifting up, you smiled with gratitude and she did the same, an unspoken relief shared between you two.

But the sudden eruption of gunfire shattered the silence and your smile, the relentless pops echoing in your ears. You flinched, your heart twisting with every shot. The weight of survival pressed down on you like a vice, and when the door reopened, it took every ounce of willpower to step back onto the platform.

There was so much blood scattered around the room, marking the spots where players left behind once stood.

Young Il waited for you at the doorway, his eyes scanning your pale face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you lied, the wavering pitch of your voice betraying you.

In another world, you refused to reveal otherwise. As your hands still shook you were ready to march on, but you could only be reminded that the next round might not be as easy.

You didn’t elaborate and further and he didn’t push. But when your hand brushed his on the platform, he didn’t let go. His fingers interlocked with yours, the grip firm and grounding.

“Just—just try not to leave me,” you whispered, the words barely audible above the jaunty tune that started up again.

If he replied, you didn’t hear it. But the gentle squeeze of his hand said enough. Your eyes shut as you braved yourself for the platform to move and you felt cowardly for clinging on so desperately to one man when there were so many of you who needed that strength.

The music stopped again.

“Four.”

Panic set in as the six of you exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“You four, go!” Gi Hun barked, his voice slicing through the chaos as he tried to usher you with Jun Hee, Jung Bae, and Dae Ho.

Looking back in a panic, you watched with relief as Hyun Ju took the players in her group off as they had already made the perfect four.

“No!” Young Il said firmly, your eyes locking with his. “She stays with me. We will find two more.”

The group that started at you desperately sunk with some form of disappointment mixed with a deep sadness that couldn’t make sense in a time where their lives were on the clock. But to your relief, you saw another pair just beyond Young Il’s shoulders who were waving for two more people.

There was no time for arguments. You shoved Young Il toward the pair behind him, your heart shattering as you watched Gi-Hun hesitate before running with the rest of them.

“Go!” you shouted, you and Young Il racing to grab the two stragglers and sprint toward a door.

When the door locked behind you, you collapsed, panting and trembling. But the fear clawed at you relentlessly. You needed to know if the others had made it. You moved to the small window, peeking out despite the bile rising in your throat.

“YN,” Young Il said, his voice softer now. A hand rested on your shoulder. “Don’t look. I know it that they made it.”

But you couldn’t pull away until the gunfire started again, jolting you back just before you could see more blood spill the ground.

When the doors unlocked, you rushed out, your heart in your throat until you spotted Jun Hee. Relief surged through you, and you threw your arms around her, holding on tight as Jun Bae and Dae Ho joined the embrace. It felt like when you had won the relay when the circumstances at play didn’t phase your mind when you were filled with the heartwarming sensation of everyone holding each other.

It was simply pure happiness in knowing they made it and you looked around, their looks of relief making your heart ache and wring out like a wet towel.

“I knew you’d make it,” Gi Hun said, his pride evident as he patted you and Young Il on the shoulder.

Nodding proudly, you looked up at Young Il who was surveiling the rest of them and checked in on Juhn Hee. Your heart broke every time you looked at her and you tore your eyes away to head to the platform, weighed by a grief for something that hadn’t even happened yet but the instead the grief of what could happen.

Back on the platform, the grim reality settled over you again. But this time, when you tried to stand strong, Young Il took your hand first and your head whipped towards him.

Why did he have to hold you so tenderly? Why did he have to make you feel cursed with the knowledge that he cared?

His lips curved into the faintest smile as if he could see the way you tortured yourself, a small reminder that, for now, you weren’t alone and the platform spun.

The ear piercing tune rung out, haunting you as its end would signify the next number to be called and when the platform stopped, your heart did too.

“Three.”

You were overwhelmed by realization that it was a perfect number: you standing between Gi Hun and Young Il while Juhn Hee stood between Jung Bae and Dae Ho. You all looked at each other with wide grins before taking off running.

Young Il and Gi Hun practically flew across the room to a door with you tailing behind like a kite.

But the chaos around you didn’t cease even as your group aligned perfectly with the challenge, and your world shifted abruptly when a force slammed into your side in the shape of an arm that yanked you into what felt like air.

The force was so sudden, so unrelenting, that your hands slipped free from Gi Hun’s and Young Il’s grasp before you could scream.

“YN!” Their voices tore through the ringing of your ears , desperate and terrified.

Your back slammed into the floor into a sticky puddle, the breath knocked clean from your lungs as your body hit the slick, blood-smeared tiles. Stars exploded across your vision, and for one disoriented moment, you couldn’t move. But you tried to move your body regardless, unknown to where or what direction but only knowing you needed to find them.

They rushed out towards you as your vision cleared and you were still stuck to the floor. But before you could push yourself up to meet them halfway, two arms snaked under your own and started pulling you away.

“Young Il!” you screamed, your voice raw and strangled, being hoisted up and dragged. “Gi-Hun!”

Panic surged through you in waves, wild and all-consuming, but their grip only tightened. You kicked and fought with everything you had, your heels scraping uselessly against the floor.

“No! Let me go!” you shrieked, your cries echoing as you caught a fleeting glimpse of Young Il and Gi Hun running toward you, their faces twisted in horror.

But there was no time and your eyes found the clock with less than 10 seconds to spare and your entire body went limp.

“YN!” Gi Hun’s voice cracked, his hand outstretched as the pastel-colored door loomed closer—too close.

There wasn’t enough time.

Time slowed to a crawl, every second seared into your memory as the men dragged you through the doorway. Your legs buckled beneath you as they shoved you inside, your knees slamming against the ground. You turned just in time to see the door seal shut, cutting off the anguished faces of Young Il and Gi Hun.

Your captors finally dropped their arms from you, both collapsing against the walls as they caught their breath.

For a moment, the world was silent and you were petrified to look up at the door for the fear of seeing their bodies laid out by the pink guards. But seemingly at the thought of blood, you commanded its scent and looked around the room.

And then it hit you—your left side was soaked with something warm and sticky. Blood. Maybe your blood, but you weren’t sure. The metallic tang filled your nose, and your stomach churned violently.

“You bastards,” you hissed, your voice trembling with fury.

The man who slumped against the wall didn’t even look at you. The other one stood, panting, his chest heaving as he tried to regain his composure. You didn’t care. Blind rage consumed you as you staggered to your feet, your legs shaking. Without thinking, you lashed out, kicking the man slumped on the floor.

“You two deserved to die out there!” you screamed, your voice breaking.

“Hey!” the standing man barked, shoving you backward.

But you didn’t care. Your fist flew out before you could stop it, connecting with his face in a satisfying crack to his nose that made your entire arm go numb. He stumbled back, clutching his nose as blood seeped through his fingers.

“You stupid bitch!” he roared, his voice muffled and furious. “You’re alive because of us!”

His words didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not the pain radiating through your side, not the blood staining your clothes, not the searing ache in your chest. All you could see was the pastel door, and all you could hear was the deafening silence on the other side.

“We should’ve left her,” the man on the floor muttered darkly, his voice low and bitter.

You turned your head, spitting onto the ground where he sat, your gaze burning with unspoken venom. Your body trembled with unspent rage, with heartbreak so raw it felt like it might tear you apart. You couldn’t bring yourself to look back at the door. Not yet. Not until it opened again. Not until you knew if they made it.

This was why you should have stayed to yourself. You’ve become a liability to them and yourself—especially when you were consumed with so much grief for their lives that you’d rather be dead.

The world seemed to tilt, your vision blurring with the weight of it all. You stood frozen, bloodied and trembling, as the air hung thick with uncertainty. With a resounding click, the doors unlocked, and nearly ripped it off its hinges.

Stepping out among the dozens left who slowly emerged from the rooms, your breath was hitched in your throat as you slowly looked around for their faces.

“Mom!” 007 croaked.

You watched the boy choke on his sobs as his mother approached him, but on her tail was Gi Hun and Young Il. A faint feeling washed over you, shoulders sagging as something in you wanted to break out in tears.

If this were only yesterday, you wouldn’t have shed any tears but now, your eyes grew blurry as you slowly carried yourself towards them.

They had been spinning in circles looking for you and as you got closer to them, too scared to make a sound or else you’d sob worse than 007 was, your chest rose and fell rapidly to keep your choking at bay.

But your legs picked up their pace, your breath shuddering and Young Il finally froze when he saw you.

“YN!” he called.

You smiled through your tears but your lips trembled but luckily, he and Gi Hun closed the distance between you and Young Il threw his arms around you, clutching you like you’d get snatched away again.

Face buried into his chest, your arms slowly snaked around him too, the tears seeping from your eyes as quietly as you could let them.

“I’m sorry.” you apologized, voice muffled slightly.

For what? You weren’t sure—it’s not like it was your fault. But deep down you were remorseful for the way you made the others worry for you and the way you had gone feral at being separated from them but these were not things so easily spoken.

He pulled back, hands clutching your face in a surprisingly swift and comfortable manner, looking down at you with such a soft pitiful look to his face.

“What could you be sorry for?” he asked.

Gi Hun rubbed her shoulders and you lowered your eyes.

“There is nothing to be sorry for.” Gi Hun affirmed, nodding at her with a brief smile. “You survived and so did we. We make it to the end together, no matter what.”

It was what you needed to hear in this moment. It was okay to care so long as you all tried your hardest to survive and that’s what they had done in that moment.

You scoffed at yourself, cheeks dampened with salty tears and his thumbs swiped them away.

“I won’t let go of you this time.” Young Il said, his face challenged by something deeper as he released your face and guided you back to the platform.

“YN!” Jung Bae and Dae Ho gasped excitedly, clapping as you stepped back onto the platform.

“What happened?” Jung Hee asked sympathetically.

Looking down at your already bruising knuckles, a grim smile crept on your face.

“Nothing that won’t happen again.”

The two boys laughed like hyenas, in awe at your strength and gushing at the bruises that painted your hand like two little girls who had just met their idol.

“I think you should take up the marines when we’re out of here, YN.” said Jung Bae, earning a nod of approval by Dae Ho.

You shook your head, chuckling at their admiration.

“No, I’d like not to punch anyone else for some time, thank you.” you dismissed with a wince, shaking your hand out.

Young Il did a double take, and as did Gi Hun who leaned over behind him to get a look.

“You did what?” Young Il asked quietly, voice low as he almost looked quite impressed too.

The fleeting moment that had passed where your rage blinded you felt like someone else entirely, but you shrugged it off, eyes falling to your feet.

“I punched the man in the face when we got through the door.“

Unbeknownst to you, he smirked proudly and Gi Hun was almost a little terrified of you. But as the rest of the players gathered, there was one pressing question that hung in the air.

“What do you think the next number will be?” asked Jung Bae, the platform beginning to spin.

There was some debate, but you were caught off guard by the way Young Il grabbed your hand.

“Two.” he said, drawing all of their eyes to him.

“There’s 126 players left and only fifty rooms. There won’t be enough for everyone.”

Maybe it was blind confidence but as you looked at your friends, everyone paired up right away, and you looked back at Young Il as the platform stopped.

“I won’t let go this time.” he said.

“Two.”

Immediately, you and Young Il took off running as fast as you could off the platform and there were so many faces around you blurred by your peripheral taunting you as you fought for a room. There was no time to divert and the door you two were approaching had one individual standing before it.

“Get in!” Young Il shouted to you, releasing your hand for a split second to fight off the man who hung by the door.

Your vision went fuzzy as you entered the room the room, but at the sight of the sheer horror of someone else in the room that made your blood run cold you froze up. You wanted to warn Young Il, caught on your words like you were choking, but he had already rushed into the room and slammed the door shut.

“Get out.” Young Il demanded

“We were in here first!” the man huddled in the corner.

Something dark came upon Young Il’s eyes as the impossible crossed your minds. You hadn’t seen him lose every ounce of life in his expression and it made your own soul feel cold looking at him.

“Turn around, YN.” he said, neither commanding nor pleading—but an order you followed nonetheless.

For a split second you did listen, quick to spare yourself of the horror but as you heard the thrashing around and the choking gasps that gurgled with last breaths of air, you found yourself turning around anyway.

It wasn’t as horrifying as you thought, having watched so many people die already and knowing your own life was at stake, you couldn’t blame Young Il. Even as he sit there, arms wrapped around the players neck like he had done this many times before, you couldn’t move away.

That’s how your mind rationalized it, but your breath had quickened to hamper down the churning of your stomach.

The sickening crunch of the players neck made your hand shoot up to cover your mouth.

A life was gone and you couldn’t figure out if this was better than being gunned down or not—but it didn’t matter. The clock struck zero and you and Young Il were safe. But as he got up, letting the body slump, your soul nearly jumped out of your body.

“YN.” he said, treading carefully towards you.

Your hands started to shake again, bile burning the base of your throat.

“You had to.” you assured, the words coming out like an automatic reply. “You had to.”

The same hands that had snapped a man’s neck were back on your face, stroking the hair behind your ear. There wasn’t any words that needed saying as he looked down at you, and you had the courage to look back up at him.

“You’re safe, YN. We made it to the end.”

Tears stung your eyes, almost defiantly so. His eyes studied your face, pausing in one particular spot. His hand slid down to your neck, fingers raising chills along your spine, but they lowered so his thumb could swat away a streak of blood along your jaw line. His hand didn't move though even when your face was untouched by blood and now, only the angry tears that puddled within your eyes.

“I know we made it. But I feel like I’m losing myself as the cost.”

You were here because of school debt and medical debt on top of it, abandoned by all those who were supposed to help or too scared to stay in the first place whether by death or selfishness. It was where you two overlapped as you gotten to know each other the past two days.

The only “self” you were losing was the part of you that made it impossible to let anyone in and you’d like to think he knew that, when you told him why you were here. But even still, he stood there as defiant as yourself deep down and held you close anyway.

Your hands reached up to hang on his wrists, reveling in the way his hands felt upon your face and you leaned into it just a little. It was a comfort you had long forgotten.

“I can’t lose myself…I’d be more afraid of losing you then. I’d be afraid to feel what I’d feel if you weren’t here anymore.”

Young Il’s lips parted at your confession and he had no words, a hint of anguish crossing his eyes as his brows furrowed slightly.

He pulled your face closer to rest on his chest and while the rest of the bodies were swept away, you took the moment to let your head sink in and forget what was happening outside with only second left before this cruel and yet blissful moment was ripped away.

~~~

#frontman x reader #young il x reader #in ho x reader #squid game

228 notes · View notes

kiss-me-muchoo · 2 days ago

Text

𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 || 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

summary_ when you declined to play Ddakji with a man, the least you expected was him stalking you, even less expected when you oblige him to lick your bleeding wound after seeing him kill a man and escaping him.

warnings_ MDNI, age gap (not specified but legal) reader is a foreigner (implied American but not specified again), stalking, blood play, dom!salesman, switch!reader, toxic till the end, sexual innuendos, manipulation, questionable morals, do not romanticize this irl pls, NO PROOFREAD YET

notes_ I’ll just drop this fic and leave it there bc why am i feeling so horny for an Asian sociopath? me la estoy pasando bien raro (i like it)

♫ ♪ the worst playlist 4 this man

✰ Index (+ fics here)

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

Everything was irritating. The class you had was canceled last minute, the crowd at the train station was loud, the tapping of a kid in a window was constant, and the message you received asking for your campus ID to keep using your student account was sudden and required immediate action. Your cramps and migraine only aggravate everything.

You were steps away from the stairs when you stopped to take the damn picture of your ID and be done with that. But of course, you couldn’t find your wallet at first glance, so you moved aside to take a better look.

You worried about kneeling and ruining your black coat with the dirtiness of the floor at the station, but at the same time, you thought it was just stupid.

A trail of curses flooded your mind as you tried to find your wallet, making you oblivious to a random man walking in your direction.

“Excuse me, Miss… Would you like to play Ddakji?” Said the man asked you in Korean. You were occupied with a hand inside your thrifted designer tote, and your mind unconsciously prepared an answer in English.

“Sorry, I don’t have time” When you realized your mid-answer you sighed, just as you fished out your wallet. “For every win of yours, you’ll earn a great sum of cash”

Once you stood up, you met the face of the man who now answered in English as well. Very tall, handsome, innocent smile and in a suit; a businessman. You knew it was wrong to judge but there was something behind the smile he offered you that resulted eerie.

Like behind that seemingly blameless expression, the man was hiding his true intentions.

Might’ve been your eyes or hair that caught his attention. You weren’t native, and he didn’t want to think he could take advantage, yet his feet dragged him to you.

Placing your bag over your shoulder again, you grab your glasses and phone with tangled EarPods. You give the man one last look. You are not having a good day and you don’t have time to deal with this.

“What do you say?” He asks feigning kindness, eyeing you subtly without your knowledge.

“No, thank you. I don’t even know how the game works”

“You look like you are a natural. You might be surprised if you try. You just have to pick a color and try to flip the opposing tile”

The rich always trying to fuck the one who isn’t. This was just a new way. The urge to roll your eyes grew but you remained still.

“Look, I’m sorry. But I bet you do this just to see how desperate people who need money can go. I won’t be one of them. If not, sorry for misjudging you” you harshly say before putting on your EarPods and leaving the station. You leave him perplexed, huffing in disbelief and igniting a fire of curiosity inside him.

And you completely forgot about the Ddakji man as you made it to your little apartment, not knowing he would turn upside down your upcoming days.

…

Warm days in winter were exciting for you. They boosted your energy and made you want to be out all day.

You had the luck of living in a beautiful complex because it was once from a friend of your mother who married years ago and now had her single apartment for rent.

It had long warm hallways that hosted at least eight apartments by floor. With orange and pink subtle lights and uneven edges. It was truly a sight despite how little the apartments were. One bedroom with closet and bathroom, a tiny studio, small kitchen, enough space for a dining table, another small bathroom, and a half sized living room with balcony.

Your loneliness was well-balanced because you loved your home. But even on warm days, you wanted to be out.

Your red shoes contrasted with everything you stepped on. You carried a bag with a bunch of books and another one with thrifted clothes you bought.

At the park you always walked by, there was a fair amount of people as usual. You don’t care much to look around but someone makes you stare longer than needed.

The same man who asked if you wanted to play a game at the station was in the park. Another impeccable suit dressing him, looking attractive like the first time and already looking at you.

He offered you a smile, to which you didn’t reply. You looked at the ground, feeling like you had frozen.

What a weirdo, he offered bread and a random paper to a lonely man.

Simultaneously, you wondered if the man found you attractive enough to stare like that. With your mind that often became nihilistic, you thought you were delusional and that you should just keep walking.

His eyes remained glued to you. As his prey was thinking about what was better to choose, he contemplated you walking again.

The salesman realized he had made you nervous and that made him feel eager to end his job and follow you again.

Once he realized you lived in a good neighborhood, where his elegant suits matched the vibe, he got even more excited to see you again.

So now, was like it was meant to be.

How sweet, sophisticated, and innocent you looked.

Something shifted, as you passed by his side, only having a view of his back, you assumed he was worked out, his hair looked perfectly fine, and his big hands offered two things. Perhaps you had misjudged him and he really wanted to help. But your inner voice said otherwise. In a sudden change of events, you decided to look back once you were almost at the exit of the park.

With his deep gaze still set on you, your lips formed a smile.

And he took it as a first win in the games that had begun between you two.

…

Once again, you find yourself in the library. Inside one of the biggest malls you’ve been to, you are leaning at a counter, asking if they have an English translation of a book you were interested in.

Your Korean isn’t good enough yet, so as the nice librarian disappeared to find your request, you are working on your next reply, with a translation app.

“Do you recommend me this one?” your back arched as a startled reflex. You quickly stand straight and turn around to see the person you grew anxious to avoid and see again. The salesman is there, looking down at you with a perfectly orchestrated smile.

“Huh?” you ask disconcertingly, he shows you a book, his face looking like he had found a wounded little bird. But it was only you, startled and nervous by his strong presence.

The book is The Divine Comedy. Dante Alighieri.

“Certainly is a good one. A lot of heavenly justice…” you say trying to sound confident, looking at the cover of the book. Displaying the layers that separated heaven from hell. “Do you believe in heavenly justice?”

“I don’t know. We can’t call someone a sinner without a proper trial beforehand” he chuckles, which makes you frown for a second. He truly was unpredictable and you didn’t like that. “Ah, sinners. Always misjudged and harshly punished for being the ones who have the guts to make things…” his deep voice and tone made you wonder if he was self-perceived as a sinner, which made you feel worse.

“You sound like an ethnocentric…”

“I don’t think I’m far into that type of thinking, y/n” Your eyes almost popped out, leaving your hands in an anxious tremble.

“How is it possible that you know my name?” Before he can even answer, you add more. “You are stalking me”

His demonic smile makes your heart stop. The smile you once thought had innocence can’t blind you anymore. He isn’t innocent. He literally confirmed he was stalking you and you didn’t know how to feel.

“I don’t like the idea that conveys the word ‘stalking’. We can call it predestination…” you huff in disbelief. “What do you want with me?”

“I would like to get to know the woman who rejected my Ddakji offer. And ask for one more game” Your lips form a line, and quietly you are hating how much you are enjoying the conversation.

“Hmm, I’m bad at most games, so I’m afraid I will reject you once again” You turned back again to see if the librarian was coming when you felt him stepping closer, which made you feel nervous again.

“I might believe you. I always win…” he whispered in your ear, sending shivers through your spine and creating a lot of tension.

Your psycho mode almost made you lean forward again, daring to see if some friction was possible. But you didn’t, trying to be prudent and acting sane.

“I would’ve wanted a normal first interaction and this time you should’ve asked me out on a date. That’s how it works where I come from but… here, I guess not” he stepped aside as the librarian handed you the book. And as you thanked her and turned to leave and pay somewhere else, he took out a card and handed it to you.

“I’m sure we can work on some sort of arrangement. Here, you may call me…” slightly irritated that he didn’t say much about your inquiry, you snatched the card and walked away.

The cathartic feelings of wanting to keep talking to him and running away from him at the same time resulted in excruciating. It didn’t make sense, the point of him was to nowhere. Being clueless about his age, name, and everything made it feel wrong. Yet, curiosity was starting to burn you.

…

Like a miracle, the heavens moved and sprinkled some luck above you. You found some friends on campus, they spoke English like you and were foreigners as well. One of them was a friend of the owner of a club and invited you for the night.

The invitation made you forgetful about your salesman, whom you hadn’t talked with since the encounter in the library. The card he handed the last time rested between the book you bought the same day, making you unable to read more because it reminded you of the encounter with him.

It resulted unknown to you when was that your life had turned over the edge of becoming twisted. Your feelings for a mysterious man who seemed more accusable than appeared remained undecided.

He made you feel like a wildfire and a caged bird at the same time. Delicate but menacing.

He seemed older than you, professional in a field, mature and imposing. Which you didn’t mind when he appeared to ask you about The Divine Comedy. Either way, you were playing but couldn’t risk anything. Especially in a country where you didn’t know how everything worked.

After getting out of the shower, your thoughts on the salesman are completely faded. You slip on a sequin dress and paint your eyes with glitter and a smokey style.

Thereafter, at the club you let yourself go and have a wild night. Between classes, essays, and the issue with the salesman, you needed a time out.

Everything feels nice when you take a bathroom break and you smile at your reflection. You know you are close to being drunk, it’s the most enjoyable stage of ingesting alcohol.

“Hey, let’s go dancing, I couldn’t find you before!” Yells one of your friends after you reunite with the little group. You nod excitedly, taking her hand and letting her take you to the dance floor.

The music reminded you of that time when spinnin records were a trend and everyone played their mixes at parties back at home. As you move along the track, you don’t look at anything in particular, you just feel interesting and sexy. But your eyes end up giving a quick glance at one table, almost making you stop your euphoric moment.

You swore you saw your salesman.

Looking around you don’t see him, so you return dancing but the odd sensation in your chest doesn’t let you rest.

“What happens?” Asks another friend, looking worried.

“Nothing. Just thought I saw someone. Never mind…” you shake your head, smiling and convincing them that everything is fine.

But once they got more drunk, you walked out, despite curiosity, you wanted to confirm if the tall gorgeous man was near you.

Rarely you bring up to question your life decisions. Not because you thought you were perfect, but because you easily accepted your errors.

And it wasn’t hard to accept you completely messed up by getting out of the club. Where the night was colder, and some steps away from the main entrance, the crowd was loud. A man could be heard pleading and sobbing, which made you fearful but eager to see what was happening.

You peeked at the alley beside the club. A wave of shock flooded you once you noticed another man was punching the one who yelped and sobbed for forgiveness.

Your salesman was the attacker.

“Please! I’ll pay everything back!” Your mind raced back to the moment you spotted your salesman inside the club minutes ago.

His dark grey suit didn’t fit the aura of the place, but he seemed to be talking with the same man he was now punching.

It was obvious at that point that he wasn’t a good man. He made fun of making people play his seemingly innocent games to later laugh in the face whenever they lost. He was never flirting with you, the odd feeling of uncertainty you felt with him was right.

You had to go. You had to burn the card he gave you, avoid the station where you met him, and forget about his face.

There’s panic in your system, your heart beats fast and nausea starts coming up your throat.

You want to get immediately drunk and forget everything you saw with a hangover. You need it.

But you don’t get very far. Midway through the stairs that conduct to the club, a hand holds your forearm with extreme pressure and drags you inside a private room.

Your salesman finally found you.

…

“You just killed a man!” you almost yelled as soon as he pushed you inside and closed the door.

The room was very fancy like the club. It had a big desk near a window, flower-shaped hanging lamps, black sparkly floor tiles, and a sage velvet couch.

Your salesman slides his fingers through his hair and looks at the ceiling before turning to you. One hand still carrying the murder weapon.

“He deserved it” was all he answered and you take a breath. In need of an alibi, you opened a random fridge in the room and grabbed a beer. Your salesman watched how you sipped at the can. He knew you were feeling a mix of curiosity and disgust for him.

Once you drink at least half of the content, you sigh, brushing aside some hair and walking towards him.

“Who are you?” you ask pleadingly, desperate to know how far you’ve gone for him.

“Eventually you’ll know” he sounds cold, calculating, and menacing. “You didn’t call…”

He was taking advantage of your vulnerability.

“I met you a week ago, I don’t even know your name” you admit with shame and dissatisfaction.

For the first time, he genuinely touches you. Hands straight to your waist, making gasp in surprise.

“You’re smart and will eventually understand. You’re my good girl”

His good girl….

What was left to do when you have a sociopath holding your waist with the same hands he had used to kill a man? Play along, even if you are terrified.

What had been your horrified face, slowly ends up in a smirk, tilting your head, squandering cheekiness. “I’m not your good girl, sir”

He slowly leaned back, taking a seat on the sage couch, one of his hands going straight to rest behind his head, against the wall. He twirled the knife against his knee, making you uneasy, but confident about your upcoming words.

“If I walk away, you can’t do much with me, I’m a foreigner. Sure the authorities would dismantle whatever dirty job you’re into and that’s a big no-no” you explain, and feeling a little too bold, you step between his legs.

“Your lack of ignorance amazes me” he admits, offering you a cocky smile. “It makes me even more infatuated”

Your left knee pushed aside his hand twirling the knife. He remained still but sure seemed slightly surprised when you ended up straddling him. With your hands glued to his dark tie, putting it into place.

“Hmm, well, be careful. I am no threat, I barely have valuable skills to get rid of you but I know I could be a problem. So I guess I won, sir…” you allow yourself to smile, following a path with your fingers, from his tie to his cheeks and nose, softly tracing his pale skin.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, sweetheart” You knew he was trying to be in control, and the best part was that you weren’t fighting for it.

“There’s a lot I might not understand. I’m just a girl who happened to be in this city for a temporary academic project” When your lips brushed his, you couldn’t deny he was so fucking hot, you wished he wasn’t so weird and probably part of a mafia or cult or whatever. “You are the grown-ass man who got obsessed with me”

“I just find you an odd but interesting player, sweet girl” he tried to use his innocent smile but it was useless when you grabbed him by the shoulders and finally dared to kiss him.

He controlled it the moment he touched you again. His hands had a possessive sting and firmly grabbed you by the hips. One of them still holding the knife.

Feeling bold, with adrenaline flowing freely, you softly bit his lower lip. You knew it was over when he almost let out a moan, and after checking he had his eyes closed, you literally jumped away from him.

Without looking back, you started running. Your clumsy steps turn frantic, knowing damn well he would start following you soon. As you literally start pushing people to get out, your heart beats faster than ever and you have a growing anxiety, begging you to stop and breathe.

Once the cold air hit you, as you took a cab and saw no sign of your salesman, confusion struck you and you saw the blood in your chest and arm.

“Are you alright, girl?” The driver asked, also watching your bleeding state.

“Yes, just an accident, I’m okay” he nods unsure, but starts driving after you give him your destination.

His knife must’ve sliced your skin when you stood up from his lap. When he moved one of his big hands to caress your chin.

It wasn’t that you were scared of him, of your salesman. Although you should be; but you weren’t. Could it be that the worst part was that you were attracted to him? Even after watching him kill a man? You were screwed.

You realize the reason why you always ran away from him is because you don’t know how to face his unpredictable demeanor.

At that point, you didn’t know what he wanted. Only that he was obsessed with you. But his intentions remained a mystery unsolved.

Before getting out of the cab, you pay and send your friends a message that you left early because you got a headache after vomiting. This didn’t happen, but would’ve been better to experience it as a young woman in her twenties.

…

When you opened the door, he was already inside. The worst part is that you weren’t surprised anymore. You only stood at the feet of the door, looking at him with uneasiness.

“You got me worried,” he says, stopping his movements around your table. “You left some blood stains and I thought it was serious”

“You accidentally showed me your true nature. A little bit of blood shouldn’t scare you” his shirt indeed had some bloody spots, his blazer was gone, and the sleeves of his messy shirt were rolled up. You hated that your first thought was that he looked very hot.

He moved and took a seat at one of your tables. He sighed and you realized that perhaps he was also screwed up. For letting himself go too far for you.

“I don’t regret any encounter we’ve had,” he says. “Me neither”

He can’t stop staring at your bloodstained dress and you notice.

Fuck everything, you thought.

I’m attracted to him, he’s attracted to me, What’s the worst thing that could happen? (I don’t want to know).

“Silly boy, look what you did to me,” you say looking at the soaked fabric.

Something possessed you at that moment. Your hands went straight to lift your dress. His eyes trailed your sparkly underwear, your lower belly, and your ribs that rose and fell as you breathed.

Your hands twirl behind your back to unhook your bra; also soaked, throwing it to the floor.

Your salesman is quiet, his innocent smile about to fall because you know you have taken him by surprise.

Likely you’ll get a scar. The would-be slightly deep, an uneven line that passed from your neck to your shoulder.

You step forward, confidently eyeing him.

“Clean it” he tried to stand up, probably to grab a med kit but you stopped him with your heel. “With your mouth. Lick it clean…”

He gulped.

His manspread became the only thing you could care about. How he eyed you with lust and possession for some seconds, and then to lean forwards.

Once again his hands landed on the curves of your hips and he made you step up, leaving him inches away from you.

Your sudden surgation grew and his hot tongue finally made contact with your skin.

You savored the feeling of his tongue, knowing he wouldn’t clean anything but the semi-dry blood over your breast. He was only making a mess.

Then, he lifts his head and catches your lips in a sullied kiss. The way he held you, made you understand how he always wanted control. Above anything.

“I will be gone within time. You can ruin me while it lasts…” you blurt out, panting for air.

“I’ll ruin you. But I don’t want to rip you apart. That’s pointless…” he admits in your lips, blood near your chin that he wipes out. “You’re the most fun I’ve had in years. My little toy…”

“Alright, I’ll be your toy” he nods, kissing you again. “Know that my lips are sealed when it comes to you”

“And you won’t have to worry about anything again…” you moan on his lips when he pulls your hair and finally makes you lay on your once new carpet, now displaying some splotches of blood.

“I don’t need your money”

“Don’t you want to make your mother proud and relieved from student debts? From rent?” You can’t think straight. “It’s not correct…”

“None of this is, y/n. Now shut your mouth and spread your legs, toy”

It’s wrong, immoral, a complete madness. You know everything will change once the night dies and the morning comes. But as much as you tried to communicate to him that you weren’t scared, you knew it was over, you’ve gotten too deep into his shit.

“Farewell to my purity” you whisper in his ear and it’s enough to make his eyes turn darker, full of lust.

Everything that consoles purity would be gone from you. And the fact that you were ready scared you. But once his hands started meeting places across your body, you welcomed the sin.

As well as your mind seized thinking. Not caring about the consequences.

_______________________________________________

If you ask for more I will provide

Quién me manda a escribir estas mamadas? I’m just ovulating.

#gong yoo x reader #the salesman x reader #squid game x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x you #gong yoo

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