#all of my answers would be the same though because nothing ever changes in my life!

[runningincircl3s]

Who Are You?

Kickboxer!Noah x Reader

Chapter Seven

chapter warnings: nsfw... overuse of the word endorphins LMAO... i don't think there's really any other warnings, it's just a cute chapter :) (for hygiene reasons, they showered at the gym before going home lmao)

masterlist ♡

┈┈・୨ ✦ ୧・┈┈

You shut the front door behind you, your back leaning against it for a moment, your fingertips pressed to your lips, your face hurting from the stupidest grin you’ve probably ever worn in your life. 

You were still trying to let it sink in, to process what the hell had just happened outside your apartment building. 

Noah kissed you.

Noah kissed you!!!

And it didn’t just feel like a goodbye kiss, or a quick peck on the lips. No. It felt real, it was nothing like any kisses you’ve shared before, because it left you wanting more the moment he pulled back… Even just thinking about it had your brain short circuiting, and your tummy feeling fuzzy. 

“Oh my god…” You whispered to yourself. Then, suddenly, the excitement hit you at full force. 

You practically launched yourself off the door, pacing the living room frantically searching for your phone as you bounced on your toes, unable to keep still. You were buzzing from the thrill of it all. 

You spotted your phone on the arm of the couch, and grabbed it with shaky hands as you tried to call your friends, praying they would answer given the time of night. 

“HE KISSED ME!!” You squealed, probably bursting their eardrums through the speakers as they answered. Kylie looked like she was already in bed, and James looked pretty chill in the bath with a face mask on. 

“NO FUCKING WAY!” James gasped, slapping a hand over his mouth. 

“TELL US EVERYTHING!” Kylie grinned, sitting up. 

“DID HE USE HIS TONGUE?!” 

“What was he doing there, I didn’t think he was even back yet?”

You lied stomach down across the couch, kicking your feet behind you as you buried your face into one of the throw pillows. 

“He just kinda turned up, he said he wanted to surprise me-”

“And were you surprised?!” James asked, and you watched him reach out for something- then a wine glass came into view. 

“Yes,” you chuckled, your cheeks still aching from smiling so much, “He came straight over from the airport, and he gave me a little gift he got in France! I asked if he wanted anything after the long flight-”

The moment you saw James smirk, you knew what was about to follow. 

“Like a blowjob?” 

“James, please shut up!” Kylie groaned, “Keep going, I want to know what happened!” 

“Okay, so he took a shower, and I gave him the good towel- y’know the pink one?”

“You’re telling me we’ve used the same towel?” James’ eyes widened. 

“Yeah, and he looked better in it.” You smirked, watching as he scoffed, “Anyways, he comes out of the bathroom, towel too fucking low on his hips… wet hair… tattoos on full display… guys, I don’t know how I didn’t pass out or something, but he kinda saw me staring and I told him he could get changed in my room-”

“Wait… so he’s been in your room?” Kylie gasped, “Please tell me you tidied it!” 

“Well, yeah... my room was tidy but the rest of this place wasn’t. But he didn’t seem to care, he came back out and we sat down, he noticed how fucked my back is and…” 

You swallowed, thinking about the entire situation. 

“And what??”

“Did he crack it for you?”

“No! He gave me a massage though, and then we cuddled for a bit, then he had to go.” They didn’t have to know all the details, Noah had trusted you enough to open up about how he feels, and you were not about to betray that, even if they were your best friends. 

Meanwhile…

Noah sank into the passenger seat, shutting the door a little harder than necessary as if that would somehow block out Matt’s grin, as he wasn’t even trying to hide his amusement. 

“So…” Matt glanced over at Noah mischievously as he pulled away from the curb, only using one hand on the wheel. “You finally kissed her, huh?”

Noah exhaled through his nose, staring out the window, refusing to take the bait. 

“We're not talking about this.”

Matt’s grin only widened. 

“You’re seriously not gonna give me anything? I’ve had to listen to you obsess over this girl for weeks, man. Weeks. Then you finally kiss her and you don’t want to talk about it?... Did she not kiss you back?”

“No, she did.” Noah said with a heavy sigh. 

“Then what is it?” Matt asked, glancing over at him again, “Did she ask where you’ve been? Like what your ‘work’ is?”

“Not really.” Noah shook his head, “She knows I travel a lot. She doesn’t push.”

“Huh.” Matt’s brow lifted slightly. “That’s kind of rare, you know. Usually people get curious.”

“She just… trusts me, I guess,” Noah shrugged, “Or maybe she’s just being polite. But I feel like now things are kinda getting more serious, I need to find a way to tell her soon.”

Matt hummed under his breath as he turned a corner. 

“Yeah… you probably should. You wouldn’t like it if she was hiding something big like this from you, you’d feel…”

“Betrayed.” Noah nodded, finishing his sentence. He knew Matt had a point. There was a little moment of silence, and Noah turned his head, watching the city go by as these thoughts weighed on his mind. 

“Tell her when you’re ready,” Matt offered gently. “But don’t leave it too late. She’s clearly into you, it’s more than obvious. You’ve still got time, but I wouldn’t leave it much longer…”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I’ll tell her. I just need to find the right time…”

“When you’re ready,” Matt repeated, his teasing grin returning. “But maybe after you sleep with her… soften the blow.”

“Dude.”

“Hey, I’m just trying to help you out!”

You weren’t brought up for the rest of the ride home, which Noah was thankful for. 

It didn’t take too long to get home, but it was still late. He kicked his shoes off by the door, and made his way up the stairs with his bags, straight to his room. 

He dumped his bags by his closet, telling himself he’d unpack tomorrow, and sank down onto the edge of his bed with his phone already in his hand, and you on his mind. 

Noah: Just got back home.

He stared at the message for a second, debating if that was too short. He hesitated… then added:

Noah: I’m sorry again for leaving so soon… I really didn’t want to. Maybe one night I could stay, if that’s okay with you? I’d invite you to mine but I’ve got roommates…

He rubbed his hand over his face, exhaling through his nose as he started typing again. 

Next time I see you, there’s something I want to tell you.

Noah’s thumb hovered over the send button, his heart pounding in fear, his jaw clenched.

No.

He couldn’t do it. Not just yet.

With a frustrated sigh, he backspaced the last part, watching it all slowly disappear. Then, instead, he typed:

Noah: Sleep well, text me when you wake up

Send.

The message was delivered with a little sound, and Noah let his head fall back against the wall behind him, shutting his eyes.

God, you were making it impossible to keep his head straight.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep this a secret forever, it was sure to come out sooner or later. He just didn’t want you to hear it from somebody else, he wanted to be the one to tell you, to explain exactly why he didn’t want to tell you, and he needed to do it soon. 

Before it was too late.

…

Tuesday had come around again, but you weren’t sure you had it in you tonight. You’d spent the entire week buried in overtime, draining every last drop of energy from your body and leaving your brain feeling like mush. But class was starting soon, you still had to get up, get dressed and drag yourself across the street for kickboxing- but you felt so fucking tired.

You sighed, still sitting on your couch, the same spot you had sat in when you got home. You threw a hoodie on when you got a little cold but you were still in your work clothes beneath, staring blankly at the floor as you debated whether to tell Noah you weren’t making it tonight. 

He had been texting you all week, always checking in, always making sure you were taking care of yourself, being ridiculously sweet even though you hadn’t seen him since the night he got back. You hadn’t had time. 

But you told him everything. How awful work had been. How overworked you were. How you wished you could see him, but you just didn’t have the time. He understood, he even offered to pick you up from work one day if it just meant he could see you, and you could skip the awful commute home, but you hadn’t seen his text until you were already halfway home. 

You let out a long sigh and reached for your phone- but then a knock at your door made you freeze. 

You frowned, a little confused. You weren’t expecting anyone. Slowly, you got up and headed over to the door, your body sore from sitting still for too long.

Your breath caught as you swung the door open- Noah was standing there.

He wore a shy smile, his messy hair a little damp from the rain outside, his gym bag slung over his shoulder…

And in his hands… a beautiful bouquet of flowers. 

You swallowed hard, feeling your heart melt just a little.

“Hi,” he said softly, a little breathless like maybe he was nervous. He lifted the flowers between you with a sheepish smile. “These are for you.”

You were a little stunned, you hadn’t expected him to turn up to your house unannounced again, and you certainly didn’t expect him to bring you flowers?

“Noah…” you whispered, stepping back to let him in, turning away as you tried to hide your flustered grin. “What are you doing here? Class starts soon-”

“I was gonna go straight to the gym,” he shrugged, stepping inside. “But someone’s been working way too hard and didn’t sound like she was gonna make it tonight… I just wanted to come by and see if I could change your mind, or if not… maybe you want some company here?”

You stared at him, feeling your heart melt. You didn’t know what to say… His cheeks blushed a little, but he covered it with a soft smirk, setting the flowers down on your table.

Without really thinking, you threw your arms around him, your cheek into his chest as he wrapped his arms tightly around you in return, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“You know,” he murmured softly as he smiled down at you, “I’m so proud of you.”

“For what?” You asked, blinking up at him.

“For never quitting,” he said, leaning in, his nose brushing yours for half a second before he pulled back with that stupid, adorable grin. “For still showing up, to work and the gym, even when you don’t want to.”

You groaned, hiding your face in his chest. He smelled extra good tonight…

“I wasn’t gonna turn up.” You confessed, “I was literally just about to text you.”

“I thought so.” He smirked. “That’s why I’m here.”

You tilted your head back, your cheeks a little pink as you looked up at him. 

“You’re evil, you know I wouldn't be able to say no to you.”

“Mm, maybe.” He stepped back slightly, grabbing your gym bag, his eyes glinting. “But I know you’ve been looking forward to training with me again all week, don’t lie.”

You hated how right he was.

“But I’m tired.” You frowned. 

“You’ll feel better after,” he promised, gently nudging your arm as he held the bag out to you. “Maybe you just need the endorphins.”

You narrowed your eyes, but you already took the bag from him. 

“Fine,” you mumbled, but your smile was giving you away. “But only cause you brought me pretty flowers.”

You quickly slipped away into your room to get changed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about what stupid remark James would’ve had to make about Noah’s comment about endorphins… You even chuckled to yourself, making a mental note to tell James about it later, knowing exactly what he’d say. 

Your hoodie was pulled halfway over your head as you stepped back out of your bedroom, grabbing your phone with a sigh as you followed him to the door. His hand brushed the small of your back, lingering just a little longer than necessary as you locked up behind you.

“For the record,” you grinned as you both headed toward the elevator, “There are other ways to release endorphins besides kickboxing…”

You didn’t even have to look to know the smirk that was spreading across Noah’s face. His hand squeezed yours gently, his voice whispering low beside your ear.

“For someone so pretty…” he teased, “…you’re a very dirty girl.”

Your cheeks burned, heat flashing through your entire body you as you glared at him, bumping your shoulder into his.

“I didn’t mean that! You just exposed your own filthy mind, mister.”

“Mhm.” Noah’s grin only widened as he trailed beside you into the elevator, his hand sliding around your waist again casually like he just couldn’t help himself, like he was just gravitating towards you. “Sure, sweetheart. Blame me.”

You rolled your eyes, but a soft laugh escaped you anyway, and as much as you hated to admit it, his presence was already helping with the exhaustion. His teasing, the flowers, the way he made your heart skip… yeah, class wasn’t sounding so bad after all.

You walked side by side down the street, your gym bag over your shoulder- Noah insisted on carrying it half the way, teasing that you looked too exhausted to be lugging things around, but eventually you took it back, bumping his arm with yours.

It was already starting to ger dark out by the time you arrived at the gym, the streetlights already glowing, casting their light onto the pavement. You hesitated for half a second, nerves creeping up on you- you were tired tonight, what if you embarrass yourself, or fall on your ass again, what if Noah’s friends were there and whisk him away again?

Noah noticed, as always. It was like had a crazy sixth sense for your overthinking. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was quiet as he turned to look at you, stopping just outside the entrance. 

“Yeah…” You nodded.

Noah’s eyes softened. 

“We’ll take it easy, okay?”

You nodded and stepped inside together, you could already hear the music and the instructor from the spin class shouting out instructions- thank god you weren’t a part of that class tonight. 

It felt oddly intimate walking into the class with Noah, knowing you had a little secret… the texts, the calls, the oddly sensual massage, the kiss, the flowers… only the two of you knew about that here. And here is where it all began. 

The second you stepped onto the mat with Noah, that familiar little space in the corner of the gym you always gravitated towards, you couldn’t help but think back to the first class, how flustered he made you with every look, the way you reacted when you heard the sound of his voice for the first time- he still had this effect on you now. You thought back on how exciting it all felt when it was new, and how it still felt exactly the same even a couple months later.

Noah guided you through stretches, and the usual warm up routine you both stuck to. His hand occasionally brushed your back or shoulder, fixing your form.

But eventually, it was time to wrap your hands.

You knelt down by your bag, pulling out the black hand wraps Noah had given you weeks ago, your fingers fumbling slightly on purpose as you unrolled the fabric. You could feel him watching you, a look of amusement on his face as he crossed his arms over his chest, chuckling under his breath.

You held the wraps up between you both, tilting your head innocently, giving him a wide eyed, helpless look.

“Noaahh… I kinda forgot how to do these,” you sighed dramatically, a little pout forming on your lips. “Could you help me?”

Noah raised an eyebrow, a cocky little smirk on his face as he crouched down in front of you.

“You forgot, huh?” he murmured, taking the wrap from your hand, his fingers brushing your palm, “That’s funny… you didn’t seem to have any trouble last time when you were showing Matt how to do it.”

You froze, blinking up at him, warmth crawling up your cheeks. And Noah noticed instantly, his smirk only growing.

“Busted.” He whispered under his breath, his voice dropping just enough to send a shiver down your spine as he started to wrap your hand.

You opened your mouth, trying to defend yourself, but nothing came out. Your gaze fell to where his fingers worked, wrapping the material through each of your fingers.

"Okay, well maybe I forgot selectively…" You admitted quietly.

Noah chuckled lowly, finishing the first hand and brushing his thumb over the back of your palm before grabbing the second wrap.

"Selective memory…" he teased softly with a little nod, his long, tattooed fingers curling around your wrist, holding it steady. "Is that your way of getting to stare at my hands again?"

Your mouth dried as your eyes darted back to his, his face was inches from yours now, his breath warm, and his smirk entirely too proud.

You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. 

"…Maybe. I just like when you do it for me…" You confessed, trying to ignore the warmth in your cheeks.

Noah tried to hide what that did to him, how his own stomach flipped just a little at your words. But, of course, he was excellent at hiding it. You needed him to teach you his secret. 

Before you could say anything else, Noah leaned back, pushing up to his feet in one quick movement. His hand smoothed gently over your knee before he stepped away towards where the equipment was kept. 

You exhaled, finally letting your shoulders drop, only to immediately tense again when you realised he was grabbing gloves and pads, tossing a pair of gloves to you as he came back. 

“C’mon,” he called with a smirk. “Let’s see how good you are tonight.”

…

You were actually glad Noah got you to come today, your stress from the week was melting away as you threw your fists, the world shrinking down to just you and him as he started calling out combos, holding up the pads for you to hit. 

You even felt your body relaxing, even as your muscles worked. But, no matter how focused you were, you couldn’t miss the way Noah watched you with a proud smile, even when he’d tease you for your attempt at another roundhouse kick. 

After one particularly good combo, his brows lifted, his lips curling into that proud grin again.

“See? Knew you had it in you tonight,” he praised softly, lowering the pads for a second as you stopped to take a quick water break. “I gotta know how Matt knocked you on your ass last time.”

You nearly choked on your water. His eyes narrowed slightly, clearly noticing.

“Oh,” you coughed, wiping your mouth, “He, um… he just told me something that caught me off guard.”

Shit, Noah thought, did he tell her the truth? Does she know? Is that why she avoided me all week, what if she was lying about overtime?

“What kinda something?” Noah asked casually, but you noticed there was an edge to it, a touch of nervousness in his voice.

You hesitated, fingers twisting around the cap of your water bottle, eyes lifting to meet his.

Do you tell him? Do you let him know how Matt exposed how he talks about you… and thinks about you… in that way? 

Noah’s eyes searched yours, the faintest crease forming between his brows, his usual teasing expression faltering for a moment.

“What did he say?” He asked again, quieter this time.

Your heart pounded loud in your chest, your cheeks burning as Noah’s eyes stayed locked on yours, softer but still edged with that worry. You could tell his mind was racing… probably assuming the worst.

You exhaled slowly, twisting the cap of your bottle again until it clicked, your gaze dropping for a second before you found the courage to meet his eyes again.

“He, uh…” You cleared your throat, “Matt said… that you… talk about me.”

“Talk about you… how?”

Your face flushed even hotter. God, you could lie, brush it off, say Matt was teasing. But part of you wanted to be honest… and to let him know you weren’t completely innocent either.

“He told me how… apparently the walls at your place are kinda thin… and uh... he hears things.” You said softly, watching his reaction.

Noah stilled. His lips parted, but no sound came out, the briefest look of panic flashing across his face as the realisation hit. His hand ran through his hair, eyes shutting for half a second as he muttered under his breath.

“Fucking Matt…”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the smile threatening to betray your nerves. 

“Is it true?” You asked.

Noah’s eyes snapped open, meeting yours again, still flustered, but still undeniably fond. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, his voice a little hoarse now.

“You sure do like to ask a lot of questions, don’t you?” He teased weakly, his confidence clearly a little shaken.

You tilted your head.

“I just wanna know.” You whispered, standing up from the bench, but Noah was still sitting, his legs spread. 

Noah exhaled a breathy laugh, shaking his head. He looked up at you, then down at your hand, and his fingers gently wrapped around your wrist, tugging you slightly closer, so you were stood in between his legs.  

“Yeah…” He admitted, his thumb brushing over your skin. “It’s true.”

Your breath caught, not from shock, but from the way his eyes met yours as he confessed. His fingers still lingered around your wrist, his thumb brushing the back of your palm over the wrap, your bodies closer than they probably should be in public.

“Funny thing is…” You licked your lips, your own nerves dissolving now you felt a little more confident. “You’re not the only one who’s… thought like that...”

Noah’s brows raised slightly, the corners of his lips curving into an almost shy smile.

“Oh?” His voice was quieter and a little rough with surprise. “You’ve been thinking about me too, huh?”

You only smiled, letting your silence answer for you.

The way his eyes darkened, the soft shake of his head… yeah, Noah was flustered. And it was freaking adorable.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know,” he muttered under his breath, biting back a grin. But then, he got back up on his feet with a sigh, dropping your wrist. “Endorphins… that’s what we came here for.”

You shrugged innocently, grabbing your gloves again. 

“Endorphins come in many ways, pretty boy…”

…

You and Noah had been sparring for a while, and you could feel your limbs starting to ache a little now, and it was definitely time for another water break. There was only about 10 minutes left of the class, so you handed Noah your bottle, asking if he could fill it up again for you whilst you put the gloves and pads away. 

You turned back around to see him still standing at the water fountain, and you decided to join him, pulling your hairband out as you wandered over- you didn’t need a mirror to know it was a mess right now. 

“Here.” He said, gently holding your bottle out. You took it with a little nod. 

“Thanks.” You said through gritted teeth, your hairband between your teeth as you tried to gather all your hair into a ponytail. 

You absentmindedly started singing along to a song under your breath, you had it stuck in your head for a couple days now… completely forgetting it was a Bad Omens song, until Noah’s head snapped to look at you. 

“Weigh down on me… Stay ‘til morning… Weigh down- What?” You asked suddenly, there was a look in his eyes that you couldn’t even begin to explain, it was like he’d seen a ghost. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. 

He completely froze, water running down his hand from his overflowing bottle. He quickly pulled it back, screwing the cap on and trying to collect himself. 

“What… uh… What song were you singing just then?”

“Just pretend,” you said with a proud little smile, “Me and my friends decided to check out that band that you like, Bad Omens? I think they’re pretty cool, that guys voice is so hot, I wish I knew what he looked like.” 

“...You don’t?” He just blinked at you.

“No, he was wearing a mask in all the pictures I’ve seen, kinda guessed he’s one of those sexy, mysterious, anonymous guys.” 

Noah swallowed hard. All he could do was nod. 

“Yeah… I’ve uh… heard that too.”

“Y’know they’re playing at Rockfest this year, right? My friends and I go every year, another one of our little traditions. Bad Omens are headlining on the last day, if I can get an extra ticket do you maybe wanna go with me?”

Just tell her, Noah. You have the perfect chance, just say it, just-

“Oh, uh… I dunno… I might be working.” 

“Oh,” you said with a little chuckle, “That’s fair. I’ll make sure I record their set for you, I’m super excited to see them!”

“Yeah, they put on a hell of a show…”

“Have you seen them before?” You asked, tilting your head. 

“Yeah. A couple times.” Noah nodded.

You fucking idiot. That was your chance. 

… 

“My friends want to meet you,” you said, turning your head to look at Noah, who was walking beside you with his head down. He’s been acting a little weird since the end of class, and you weren’t as good of a mind reader as him, so you couldn’t quite tell why, “If that’s okay…? I know you’ve kinda met them before but it was only brief, but ever since I told them that I met Matt and Davis they’ve seemed a little jealous.” 

“Yeah,” Noah nodded his head, meeting your gaze, “I’d love to.”

“I don’t know why,” you giggled, approaching the door to your apartment building, “They’re like feral children, they’re little shits.” 

Noah laughed under his breath, coming to a pause with you outside the building. 

“I could say the same about my friends, but you seemed to like them.” 

“I did!” You chuckled, taking your gym bag from Noah. You didn’t want him to leave just yet, it had been a long week, and now you’re with him again you don’t want him to leave.

“...Are you busy tonight?” You asked quietly, almost a little shy. 

“Nope.” He shook his head

“Do you wanna come in for a bit?... Kylie’s visiting her brother at the moment and James is on a date, so there’ll be no interruptions this time?”

“No interruptions, huh?” he smirked, before tilting his head as if considering it, but the teasing tone in his voice kinda gave him away. You tried not to show how nervous you suddenly felt, watching him so carefully, waiting for his answer even though you thought you already knew what he would say. 

“Only if you want to,” you added quickly, biting your lip. “No pressure.”

“No, I’d like that,” he said softly, his voice a little warmer as he nodded. “I’d really like that.”

The tight knot in your chest finally loosened, and your shoulders dropped with relief as you gave him a small, grateful smile. He followed you up to your place, and you unlocked the door, holding it open for him as he followed you inside.

It was just the two of you now. No class. No friends. No distractions. No other plans. Just you and him for the first time... ever?

Noah kicked his shoes off by the door, slipping his hoodie off and draping it over the back of your couch like he’d done this a thousand times before, like he was already comfortable here. You were glad he felt comfortable here.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked as you placed your gym bag down, heading into the kitchen. “I wish I could offer you something interesting but I need to go shopping, I’ve only got water at the moment.”

“No, waters perfect, thank you.” He called back with a smile, sitting on the couch, his long legs stretched out in front of him as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

You handed him a glass of water and curled up on the opposite end of the couch, tucking your legs beneath you, your eyes lingering on him for a moment longer than necessary before you turned the tv on.

Noah took the glass with a grateful smile, his fingers brushing yours as you handed it over. You watched as he took a sip, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, his jaw flexing just the slightest. God, it was unfair how good he looked doing the simplest of things.

You tilted your head, giving him a look, soft but also expectant, your lips twitching like you were holding back a smirk. Noah caught it instantly, his brow raising with quiet amusement. 

“What?” he asked, his voice warm with a little laugh as he set the glass down on the table. “What do you want?”

Your face warmed as you smiled, shrugging innocently.

“Cuddles?” You admitted, eyes dropping shyly to your lap before looking at him again. “You give the best ones… and I’ve kinda missed them… And after the week I’ve had-”

Noah just cut you off with a chuckle, opening his arms, motioning for you to come closer. 

 “C’mere, pretty girl.”

You didn’t hesitate, sliding across the couch as he pulled you into his side, your head tucking beneath his chin as his arm wrapped snugly around you. The warmth of him, the way his hand rubbed slow circles over your side, it was the safest, most calmest place in the world.

You really let yourself really relax for the first time in days, melting against him as your fingers absently played with the hem of his shirt.

A few moments passed in comfortable quiet before you tilted your head, looking up at him.

“Is everything okay?” you asked softly, your brows knitting together. “You seemed a little… I dunno, weird after class.”

Noah’s thumb paused for a second on your side, but then he exhaled, his hand resuming its gentle motions. 

“Yeah,” he nodded, though his eyes stayed distant for a beat too long. “Just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

“You can talk to me, y’know.” You reminded him quietly, your fingers brushing lightly along the tattoos on his arm.

“I know,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your hairline with a gentle kiss. “I will… I promise. Just not tonight, yeah?”

You nodded against his chest, snuggling even closer as his arm around you tightened. You didn’t push him, despite how curious your brain was, you respected every boundary he set.

The two of you seemed happy and content like this, neither of you were in a rush to do anything, so you were just taking in each others company, each others touch. 

But eventually, your eyes lifted, meeting his again. You caught yourself staring at him, and how he looked in the soft glow of your lamp from the corner of the living room, your fingers stilling against his arm as your lips twitched.

“What?” He asked again, his lips curving into a little smirk. You bit back your smile as your gaze dropped to his lips, remembering exactly how they felt on yours.

“I was just thinking… about the kiss,” you admitted softly, the words slipping out before your brain could stop them. “I haven’t really stopped thinking about it.”

“Yeah? You're not the only one.” Noah confessed, his hand stilling at your side, just holding you close to him. 

You bit down on your lip, your gaze dropping to his mouth again as his hand slid from your waist down to your hip. 

You shifted ever so slightly, your fingers curling lightly into his shirt as you tilted your head, moving closer. Noah met you halfway, his hand beneat your chin, guiding you gently as your lips brushed over his, soft at first, like you were both still testing how this new dynamic between you worked… It had been a long time since either of you had really kissed anybody.

The, the kiss deepened, his hand slid up your spine, fingers curling into your hair as he tilted his head even more, drawing you in closer. Your other hand flattened against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm, knowing you were doing that to him.

Noah guided you into his lap, shifting you until you were straddling him, your knees either side of his thighs, without breaking the kiss. 

You braced your hands on his shoulders, your breath catching at the motion, your lips slightly parted when he finally pulled back to look at you. His eyes were sparkling with a mix of need and restraint, and he smirked up at you. 

“No sex…” You whispered as you leaned back in, your nose brushing his as your lips hovered just above his, “You wanted to take it slow, right?”

“No sex,” Noah repeated with a soft nod, his hands squeezing your hips just a little, “But you’re making it real hard to behave, angel.” 

“Then give in.” You grinned, your forehead resting against his, your fingers at the nape of his neck as his hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, fingertips teasing along your bare skin… but not crossing the line.

He kissed you deeper again, slow at first, but with each brush of his lips over yours his restraint unraveled further.

Noah’s hands slid higher beneath your shirt, calloused fingertips tracing your ribs, just shy of your chest, close enough to make you ache for more, but staying maddeningly in bounds.

“You’re a little devil.” He whispered against your lips, his voice rough, his breath catching as you rolled your hips. You didn't mean to at first, but after his reaction you started doing it a little more intentionally.

“Oh, but you love it.” You whispered back, grinning wickedly against his lips.

His low groan in response confirmed it. One of his hands slid up your back again, pulling you impossibly closer as your hips pressed down into his.

You could feel him hard beneath you, the thin barrier of your leggings doing little to dull the pressure building between your thighs as you rocked against him slow and steady, your lips never parting from his. Just as you were about to stop, to pull away and respect his wishes knowing what this would most likely lead into, Noah's grip tightened. 

His hands guided your hips, the friction drawing little gasps out of you between messy kisses, your body flush to his as he muttered under his breath…

“You're so beautiful like this…”

Your only reply was a breathless laugh, hips rolling again, completely shameless now. Your head tipped back as his lips trailed down your jaw, across your throat, then you felt his teeth graze at your pulse point.

It was starting to completely spiral now, you weren't sure what this would lead up to, but you let Noah take the lead. Your hands tangled in his hair, hips grinding just right, the friction making your thighs tremble.

And then your phone rang!

Both of you froze, your eyes wide, breaths still laboured as you stared at each other, Noah’s lips swollen, his pupils blown wide, his hands still locked around your hips like he wasn’t ready to let go..

With a groan, you reached over the coffee table for it, glancing at the screen. 

“It’s my Aunt.” You whispered, your voice still breathless and now mortified.

Noah's expression changed into an amused grin, his chest still heaving beneath you.

“Perfect timing.” He teased, breathless, his head tipping back against the couch, a little chuckle escaping him.

You covered your face with one hand as you answered the call.

“Hi, Auntie…” Your voice cracked, still dazed and trying desperately to sound normal as Noah's hand slid teasingly up your thigh, his grin entirely too smug.

This man was evil.

You scrambled to sit up properly, hopping off Noah’s lap as his hand chased after you, fingers curling around your hip with a wicked grin, until you shot him a warning glare that made him chuckle under his breath, finally relenting as you pressed the phone to your ear.

“Hey, Auntie!” You repeated, your voice still breathless, praying she wouldn’t guess what you’d just been up to. “What’s up?”

Noah stayed sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to you, one arm thrown across the back of the cushions, legs spread, hair a mess, lips redder and swollen, smug as ever- and also completely unbothered.

“I was just calling to remind you about the party next weekend,” your aunt chirped, completely oblivious to the sinful scene she just interrupted. “You are coming, aren’t you? Everyone will be there. It’s been ages since your cousin’s wedding, but the family hasn’t really had a chance to celebrate!”

“Yeah, I’m coming,” you managed, glancing at Noah as you tucked your legs beneath you. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Good! ...Are you bringing that boy with you?” She asked, far too casually.

You froze. 

“What boy?”

Noah’s head tilted, curiosity sparking as he sat up slightly.

“The one James tells me about! The tall, handsome one you’ve been going to that muay thai thing with,” your aunt said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “What’s his name… Neil- no, it’s Noah, right?”

Your eyes darted to him. Noah’s brows shot up, clearly caught off guard. 

“You’ve told your family about me?” He mouthed, a smirk tugging at his lips, teasing you even despite his surprise.

You covered the phone with your hand, whispering, 

“James lives next door to her…” And that explained everything.

Noah huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head.

“Is he there with you now?” Your aunt continued, still on speaker.

Before you could lie your way out of it, Noah leaned in slightly, his voice smooth and entirely too smug as he spoke loud enough for the phone to pick up, 

“Hi, y/n's auntie…”

Your jaw dropped as heat flooded your face. Noah just grinned wider, thoroughly enjoying himself right now.

“Oh! He is there,” your aunt laughed, far too pleased. “Well, I’ll let you two lovebirds go… but I better see him at the party.”

“Uh... we’ll see,” you muttered, flustered beyond belief as Noah’s hand slid teasingly along your thigh again, his expression pure trouble.

“Bye, sweetie. And Noah… be good!.” Your aunt chuckled before hanging up.

You tossed the phone onto the table, face burning as Noah laughed quietly beside you.

“So… I’ve been family approved?” He teased, leaning in again, his hand resting comfortably on your thigh like he’d never stopped touching you.

“Apparently,” you muttered, shaking your head, “God, I can’t believe you spoke to her-”

“Hey, you’re the one telling your whole family about me,” he grinned, nudging your knee with his, “Kinda cute.”

“I wasn’t the one telling them!” You covered your face with your hands, but Noah only tilted his head, pulling you towards him again. 

“I know, I’m just teasing you…” He smirked.

You hesitated for a moment, gnawing on your lip before quietly asking. 

“So, if you do come to the party… Are you coming as my friend? Or…?”

Your voice trailed off, uncertainty hanging between you. You hadn’t exactly labelled this...

Noah’s expression shifted, his head tilting as his eyes studied you.

“I’ll come as whatever you want me to be.” He replied simply.

Your breath caught at that. You weren’t sure what answer you expected… but that? That melted your heart entirely.

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering by your jaw, thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. 

“I’m not gonna push you to label anything before you’re ready… but I’m not exactly showing up to your family’s party just as your… friend.”

A tiny smile pulled at your lips, nervous and shy. 

“Not just my friend?”

His brows lifted, his smirk creeping back on his face.

“No, angel… I think it’s a little more than that, don’t you?”

Your cheeks heated up, but you leaned into his touch without absentmindeldy, your eyes fluttering shut briefly at the feeling of his palm against your skin.

“Okay,” you whispered, “But just… tell me if I overthink it all, yeah?”

He laughed quietly, resting his forehead to yours, his thumb tracing gentle lines along your cheek. 

“You? Overthink? Never.”

You swatted his chest playfully, but your smile only grew as he closed the space between you, his lips pressing to yours again, but you quickly pulled back, whispering against his lips. 

“Stay tonight… Please? If you haven't got plans?” You gave him your best doe eyes, and your most persuasive little smile. He chuckled under his breath, sliding his hand up your back. 

“You give me those big eyes and expect me to say no?” He shakes his head, amusement in his tone, “I’ll stay.” 

“...So does that mean we can, uh.. finish what we started?” You teased, biting your lip.

Noah pretended to think for a moment, then he didn’t answer with words. 

He moved instead, lips crashing into yours, pulling you into his lap again like it was instinct, like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between you anymore. You grinned into the kiss, giggling as his arms wrapped tight around your waist, dragging your body flush against his.

You gasped when his hands found the hem of your shirt, slipping beneath it again like he was starved for your skin. His hands slowly dragged upwards, skimming under your bra, and you arched into him without meaning to, your hips rolling, your breath catching as he groaned.

The couch creaked beneath your shifting weight, and still Noah’s hands didn’t stop… one trailing up your back, the other gripping your thigh, holding you firm to his lap as you rocked against him.

But it wasn’t enough. Not for either of you.

He leaned in, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, tugging it before letting go. His breath was ragged.

“You’re restless,” he murmured, his hand sliding between your thighs, feeling the tremble already building. “You want me to fuck you?”

Your whole body went still. The way he said it, the huskiness of his voice made your breath hitch, but there was no mocking to be found in his tone, or teasing. Only want.

“I do, more than anything,” you whispered honestly. “But I don’t want to push you...”

Noah paused.

Then kissed you again, his hands firm on your hips like he needed you to feel everything he didn’t know how to say.

When he pulled back, his voice was hoarse. 

“I’m sorry baby, I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. But fuck-” he kissed you again, harder this time, pulling a breathless sound from your throat, “-I still want to make you feel good.”

Your eyes fluttered open, lips parted as your heart skipped a little.

“Yeah?”

“I want to taste you,” he whispered, lips brushing your jaw, his voice suddenly trembling from restraint. “I wanna get on my knees and eat you until you can’t remember your name… just mine.”

Your stomach flipped, and heat rushed between your thighs. You whimpered.

He shifted suddenly, guiding you down onto the couch beneath him, laying you out so gently it made your heart ache just a bit. He hovered over you, kissing down your neck, your chest, until he reached the hem of your shirt.

He looked up. Waiting for your okay.

You nodded, and that was all he needed.

He lifted your shirt and pressed open mouthed kisses across your stomach, your hips, until he reached the waistband of your leggings. He slid them down slowly, even as his hands trembled, his eyes never leaving your body.

Once your leggings and panties were gone, he settled himself between your thighs, one hand gripping your knee, spreading you open as his breath hit your core.

“Fuck…” he whispered, staring at you like you were something holy. He gently parted your folds, his eyes growing darker as he took in the sight of you. “Look at you.”

Then he leaned in, kissing your inner thigh, his nose brushing the skin just beside where you needed him most. You gasped, wriggling your hips, and he chuckled under his breath, nuzzling against you before trailing his tongue up your folds, so fucking slow and filthy, groaning like he was the one being touched.

But almost immediately, he stopped, leaving you a little confused as you blinked down at him.  

“Noah?”

He looked up at you, already breathless, his hands still gripping your thighs as he shook his head. 

“Couch is too small,” he muttered, his voice full of hunger. “I can’t… fuck, I need to spread you out.”

Your heart pounded.

He stood quickly, scooping you up before you could even react, your legs wrapping around him instinctively as he whispered against your lips…

“Bedroom?”

“Yes.” You nodded, already feeling dizzy. 

He carried you like you weighed nothing, kissing you breathlessly as he stumbled down the hall and into your room. Then, the second your back hit the mattress, Noah was on top of you.

He wasn’t rough in the slightest, but there was something so feral behind his eyes, like all the restraint he'd shown since the moment he met you had finally run dry, and now there was just pure want.

He dragged your thighs apart again, settling between them like he belonged there, like it was the only place he ever wanted to be. His hands slid up your calves, over your knees, spreading you even wider with a low groan like he needed the space to work. 

He leaned forward, kissing your inner thigh, then the other, doing it so slow and soft that it almost felt torturous.

“Been thinking about this moment since the second I saw your bedroom,” he murmured, his voice raspy. “Everything in here smells like you. Feels like you. Drove me fucking crazy… Couldn’t help but picture taking you on your bed.”

“Noah…” You whined as yout stomach fluttered, the ache between your legs growing more and more unbeatable.

“I know I said I wouldn’t fuck you tonight,” he breathed, mouth hovering just above your core, “But that doesn’t mean I can't make you feel good. And I’m not stopping until you come twice.”

Before you could respond, he licked a slow stripe between your folds, and your back arched off the mattress with a cry. You were soaked, still so sensitive already from everything before, and he groaned at the taste of you like it physically pained him to go slow.

So he didn’t...

He buried his face between your thighs with a low groan, his mouth sloppily taking you apart as his hands locked around your hips, keeping you right where he wanted you. You gasped his name, one hand flying to his hair as the other gripped the sheets, anchoring yourself to anything as you started to feel as though you might just float away.

But god, it was messy, loud, and so fucking good. You had only ever been eaten out once before, and you could tell the guy you were with wasn’t too into it, it was like he was doing it because he felt like he had to. But with Noah, this felt like a much different story. He licked and sucked like he was trying to drink you down, moaning against you every time your hips bucked, every time you cried out.

“You taste so fucking good,” he muttered, his breath hot against your skin. “You’re gonna come in my mouth, baby. Give it to me.”

Your thighs trembled, and you felt your belly tense... It was too much- the obscene slick sounds, the heat, the way he groaned like this was just for his pleasure… And when he flattened his tongue and sucked your clit between his lips, that was it. 

Your whole body locked up, a broken sob catching in your throat as you came hard,your thighs clamping around his head, your fingers tangling tighter in his hair. He didn’t stop. Not even a little.

He groaned when you came, kissing your lips down there like your orgasm only made him hungrier. He licked you through it, like he was savoring every second. But even when your body began to twitch from the overstimulation of it all, even when you whimpered his name, breathless and in a daze, he didn’t stop.

“Again.” He looked up at you, his mouth and chin wet, lips swollen, his voice trembling with need.

“Noah-” You gasped, your thighs already shaking.

He slid two fingers inside you before you could even finish thinking about what you were going to say.

You gasped. So loud, in fact, you were already planning your apology to the neighbours.

The stretch felt perfect, and he knew just what to do with his fingers as he curled them inside you. You were still pulsing from the first orgasm, and now your body was being dragged right back toward the edge, kicking and screaming.

His mouth was on you again a second later.

“Come again,” he growled against your clit, sucking and licking in tight circles. “Fuck, please… Come again… For me.”

You were utterly gone, you could already feel your brain turning to mush, the stress of the last week now feeling like a very distant memory as your second orgasm hit harder than the first. Your voice broke as you moaned his name, your body trembling beneath him as his fingers still worked you through it, his mouth still on you. 

He didn’t stop until you were crying out, hips jerking away from his mouth as your whole body gave out beneath him. And only then did he pull back, his chest heaving, the bottom half of his face slick with you, his jaw tight like he was barely holding himself together, like it was taking everything not to go any further. 

He kissed the inside of your thigh one last time, a lot gentler now, before crawling up your body and hovering above you, his face almost as flushed as yours. 

You were still gasping, lips parted, eyes glazed when you cupped his face in your hand. 

“Holy shit.” You whispered, stlightly dazed as your eyes fell shut, a little laugh slipping out. 

Noah smirked, but there was something tender in his expression now, something that said this wasn’t just about lust, as he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten a girl out from want and not just to return a favour. He kissed your forehead, then your cheek, then finally your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You okay?” He whispered, brushing hair from your face.

“Yes.” You nodded weakly. “That… I’ve never felt anything like that.”

"Endorphins." He chuckled quietly, tucking you into his arms, pulling the blankets over your bare legs like he wasn’t still painfully hard in his sweats- and you could feel it as your legs tangled.

“You didn’t come.” You whispered after a moment, blinking up at him, so you propped yourself up on one elbow, brushing your fingers lightly down his chest. “My turn to return the favour.” You said softly, letting your hand trail toward his waistband.

But before you could reach it, Noah gently caught your wrist.

You looked up.

“No.” He said quietly.

“No?” You frowned. 

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips as if to reassure you that it wasn’t you. As he pulled back, you nuzzled closer into his chest, and you heard him whisper. 

“Tonight wasn’t about me. I wanted to take care of you. That was for me.” 

“But you’re still-” You looked down at the obvious outline of him in his joggers.

“I’ve been hard since the minute you climbed into my lap,” he said with a soft smirk, a hint of humour in his tone, “I’ll live.”

“But-”

“No,” he said again, more firmly this time, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve already made me lose my goddamn mind tonight. If I let you touch me right now, I’m not gonna stop. And I already said I wouldn’t fuck you tonight…”

You swallowed, your thighs pressing together involuntarily at the sound of his voice when he said that word. He kissed you one more time, a little hungrier now, then sat up with a soft groan as he ran a hand through his messy hair.

“You hungry?” He asked, already standing, adjusting the waistband of his joggers that were doing very little to hide the clear outline of his hard cock- and fuck, it was enough to make your mouth water.

“For food?” You blinked up at him, dazed. 

He laughed quietly under his breath, nodding toward your phone on the bedside table. 

“Order us something. Anything you want.”

He started walking toward the bathroom, and you stared at him. 

“Wait. Where are you going?”

Noah paused in the doorway, glancing back at you over his shoulder, his expression was almost unreadable if the flush in his cheeks didn’t give him away.

“Gonna take a quick shower… if that’s okay?” He said casually.

“A shower.” You narrowed your eyes. 

“Yeah.” His jaw clenched slightly. “Alone.”

“Right…” You sat up a little straighter, trying to fight back the little smirk that tugged at your lips. 

He rolled his eyes, laughing under his breath. 

“Order the food,” he said, and then disappeared into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You stared at the closed door for a long moment… and then you heard the water turn on.

You shook your head, flopping back onto the bed, your heart still pounding at the thought of how Noah had just gone into your bathroom to jerk off with you still lying half naked on the bed.

…

After dinner and a movie, and almost falling asleep on Noah’s shoulder, you both decided maybe it was time to get ready for bed. He followed you into the bathroom, you handed him a brand new toothbrush, still in the packaging, and tried to act like it was no big deal. 

“Here,” you said casually, “I keep spares.”

Noah raised a brow as he took it from you, smirking. 

“A toothbrush at your place already?” he teased with that lazy grin that made your heart skip a beat, “Guess that really makes this official, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to play it cool, even if your stomach was full of butterflies. 

“Shut up, James has one here too.” You nodded to the green toothbrush by your sink. 

“Right.” He said, laughing as you passed him the toothpaste. 

As Noah brushed his teeth, you slipped away into your bedroom to find something to wear to bed… you reached for one of your usual oversized shirts, but instead your eye caught something else. A two piece pyjama set you’d bought months ago because it was on sale, you had no intention of ever wearing it, it just looked nice. It had some little bows, a bit of lace, it was sexy without being too much. 

So, once Noah was done in the bathroom, you stepped in, shutting the door behind you. But the second it clicked shut, your nerves kicked in.

Okay, maybe this was a little risky… but he had literally just had his fingers in you.

So you got changed and got ready for bed. You looked at yourself in the mirror, fingers smoothing over the lace as you took a steadying breath. It was the first time you’ve ever had a sleepover with him. This wasn’t just a hookup, he made that incredibly clear last time he was here, when he basically told you he wanted to take things slow. 

You didn’t want to overthink it. But… you kind of wanted to impress him. Just a little.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Noah had already gotten into bed. He was on his phone, sheets just so his tattooed chest was on full display, hair messy from running his hands through it, and a sleepy smile tugging at his lips as he turned his head to look at you.

The second his eyes landed on you, he blinked slowly, like it took a second to process what you were wearing.

“…Damn.”

Your face warmed as you shut off the light and padded across the room, tugging at the hem of your top a little self consciously. 

“I thought I’d wear something nice tonight.” You said, grinning despite yourself, “It’s a little cuter than an old stained shirt.”

Noah’s gaze softened immediately, that playfulness  was still there, but now he looked at you with something warmer behind his eyes. 

“You could wear a trash bag,” he said, his voice quiet but genuine, “And you’d still be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, biting back your flustered smile. 

“I’m serious,” he said, reaching for your hand as you slid under the covers beside him, “But also, I appreciate the fancy.”

You nestled into his side, and Noah immediately pulled you close, tucking your head beneath his chin as your arm draped across his stomach. His hand rested on your waist again, fingers brushing gently against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

He let out a small sigh, like his whole body relaxed the second you were curled into him.

“You comfy?” he asked, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

“Mhm,” you nodded against his chest, voice muffled by the fabric of the sheet between you. “Are you?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Think this might be my new favourite place, good luck getting me to leave.”

You chuckled, and let your eyes shut, hoping sleep would find you easy tonight. Your legs were tangled beneath the blankets, his fingers tracing lazy shapes into your back, you felt at peace.

But you still couldn’t sleep. 

You didn’t know how long you’d been lying there with Noah’s arms around you. Time didn’t feel real when you were with him, everything just slowed. His breathing had evened out, but you could tell he wasn’t fully asleep either. 

You shifted a little against him, just enough to peer up from where your head rested on his chest.

“Noah?” You whispered into the dark.

His fingers brushed lazily along your back, pausing slightly before continuing again. 

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why not?” He chuckled softly. You hesitated, then gave a sheepish shrug, not that he could see it. 

“I think I’m just… really happy.”

Noah stilled for a moment beneath you, then exhaled slowly through his nose. 

“That’s a good reason, at least.” Because, for Noah, he couldn’t sleep for other reasons. 

You propped yourself up slightly on your elbow.

“It’s just weird,” you said, half to yourself, “How much I like you… but how little I really know about you.”

That made him freeze. You could feel it in the way his body went just a little tense under your palm. You didn’t pay it any thought though, your voice just stayed soft and thoughtful as you continued. 

“I mean, I don’t even know your last name,” you teased gently, “Or where you’re from. Or your favourite colour. You’re like a mystery box boyfriend- not that you’re my boyfriend… I just mean... I want to know everything about you…”

Noah went a little too quiet… You frowned a little, looking up at him again, though you couldn’t see him too well in the dark. His jaw was tight, his eyes fixed on the ceiling like he was thinking too hard.

“…It’s okay,” you said softly. “I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything, I just-”

“No, no,” he said quickly, his arm tightening around you a little. “It’s not that. It’s just…”

He sighed, turning his head slightly to look at you.

“If I tell you my last name,” he murmured, eyes unreadable in the low light, “You might google me.”

You blinked. “So?”

He looked at you for a moment longer, like he was weighing something in his head, because he was. If he told you, it could go two ways- you search his name and find everything out, it’ll save him from breaking it to you, but he’d rather be the one to tell you, so he can explain everything… or it’ll make no difference, maybe you won't search him up. 

“Davis.”

“What about him?” 

“No,” he laughed under his breath, running his fingers through your hair. “That’s my last name. Davis. Noah Davis.”

Your mouth dropped open a little. 

“Wait… really?” You asked, and he nodded, “I thought Davis was your friend’s name.”

“It is, but it’s also my last name.” He explained, “He’s Davis Rider, I’m Noah Davis…” Because soon enough you'd know Noah Sebastian

You fell quiet for a second, processing that.

“I’m sorry,” he added gently, “I don’t mean to keep things from you. I just… maybe I like being your mystery box boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the little laugh that slipped out. 

“You just admitted you’re my boyfriend.”

“I said mystery box boyfriend,” he smirked, reaching to tug you back down onto his chest. “Very different.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling into the curve of his neck. 

“Okay, Noah Davis... now that I have your full name, I guess I get to know more. Favourite colour?”

“Red.” He said, without hesitation this time.

“Huh. I figured you’d be a black or blue guy.”

“Reds always been the one I’m drawn to,” Noah said with a shake of his head, “And black too, I guess.”

You smiled sleepily.

“Okay. And… where are you from?”

“Virginia… Lived there ‘til I was a teenager, then came here for work.”

You hummed softly, fingers brushing over his arm.

“Thanks for telling me,” you whispered. “I know that stuff probably doesn’t seem like a big deal, but… it is. To me.”

Noah didn’t answer at first. But then he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“Yeah. It’s a big deal to me too.”

You nestled even closer, your arm wrapping around his waist, face tucked against the smooth skin of his shoulder. Noah’s hand continued its lazy trail across your back, dipping beneath the fabric of your top now and then, just enough to keep goosebumps rising on your skin. There was nothing sexual about it. Just intimacy, closeness and trust. 

You let out a little sigh as you relaxed even deeper, your voice barely a murmur against his neck.

“I like this.”

“Me too.” He said, his lips brushing your hair. 

“Noah?”

“Yeah?”

“If I did google you… what would I find?”

He paused… and you felt it. He didn’t pull away or shift uncomfortabley, he just held you a little closer, his fingertips softly dancing over your arm.

“Probably a lot of embarrassing shit,” he confessed, and although he wasn’t fully telling the truth, it also wasn’t a lie, “Old pictures, old thirsty tweets.”

“Thirsty tweets?” You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped.

“Yeah, I don’t actually have social media anymore, but I bet they’re still out there somewhere.”

You stifled your laughter against his chest, and he tilted his head to look down at you, the fondest smile on his face.

“You know,” you whispered, “If this is what a sleepover with you is like, I might never let you go home.”

He smirked, but there was something gentle in his eyes, like hope.

“Guess I should keep the toothbrush here, then.”

“I did pick the pink one just for you.” You grinned. 

“That makes it official, huh?”

“Oh yeah, totally official.” You giggled sleepily.

He kissed your forehead again, and you let out a content sigh, nuzzling in close.

After a few moments, you felt him shift slightly, and you looked up to see his lashes fluttering closed, his breathing slowing. He looked peaceful like this.

You stared at him for a little while, your heart swelling with something you were a little afraid of... Love?

You weren’t sure how you got so lucky, how you got here. But you knew you didn’t want to leave. You reached up and gently brushed a lock of hair from his forehead, and whispered.

“Goodnight, Noah Davis.”

------------------------------

it seems it's not a runningincircl3s fic without a party at some point!

@dragoncopper @renegadebirch @super-btstrash-posts @pipidoll @xslavicprincess @foliosgirl @h4tef6ck @jesuisunchaton @saythatuwill @astronoids @missduffsblog @montgomery-929496 @lonelydragonlady @happyclifford @popularpopularmonster @bluehairpunklol @bruce9818 @itsyaboinoah @mayaslifeinabox @lonesomegrace @dominuslunae @lacy1986 @jesuisunchaton @overmydeadbodysblog @kenjipepsi1 @onlyethereal @theright-wrongway @geminigirlfromfinland @miss570 @trvshdxddy @spookieolson @sugaruapologist @latenightmusiclover @eversiinceny @shuiguans @lyschko666 @xxkatsatwatwafflexx @flowery-mess @pathion @bladeupnred @urafakebetch @mycheersricochet @moostress19 @nojoyontheburn @carrieontillmay @mymindsnotebook @eclipseeetop @8fingerscrossed

[bleachbabee]

Mission Impossible: Go!

agent!aizen x f!reader

intelligence agency au, part 1

content warnings: dark themes, swearing (just a bit), jealousy, obsessed!aizen, banter, reader has self-esteem issues and frequent intrusive thoughts, workplace rivalry, alcohol, mentions of sex and crime.

synopsis: You're an officer nicknamed 'Predator' at the Gotei Intelligence Agency (G.I.A.) and have been partnered with the man, the myth, the legend - Sosuke Aizen - the prodigy who was enlisted without even having attended the Shinoreijutsin - the notoriously difficult school all aspiring officers must graduate from. You've hated him ever since you first met him, and now you're supposed to go on an undercover mission with him for an indefinite period, to take down the most infamous and dangerous gang: the Espadas, which your organisation has been targeting for almost 5 years now. Good luck!

word count: 1.1k

hope you enjoy! ♡

"What?" I ask in utter disbelief of my luck - or, lack of, rather. Why am I being partnered up with him of all people? Anyone would have been better.

"I said that we have a mission for you and Agent Aizen. The organisation has decided to send you both together, because we believe your skills will come in handy for this particular program." Director Yamamoto repeated. "Do well, both of you. It would be an embarrassment to the G.I.A. if we still fail to put an end to the Espadas' operations."

"Yes, Sir. We will." I say with a resigned sigh. Oh, how I wish I had chosen a different path than a life fated to be overshadowed by the achievements of the great Sosuke Aizen. Alas, what can I do except follow orders?

"We will, Director Yamamoto. Expect nothing less from Officer Y/n and me!" Sosuke exclaimed, his voice dripping with excitement, and his brown eyes sparkling, as usual. What a kiss-ass. He always does this - pretends to be the most sincere employee in front of the superiors, and when no one's watching? His persona takes a 360-degree turn. And of course, I'm the only one who notices. It'd have been so much better if I hadn't.

"Very well, you're dismissed." the Director said with a small smile at Sosuke's words. I practically ran for the door, wanting to avoid Aizen if I could help it, though a part of me knew it was of no use. He always catches up.

"Running away from me now, my predator? I'm hurt. I thought we were close friends," He says mockingly, grabbing my wrist. All the excitement and sincerity that was plastered on his face is gone, replaced by the condescending smirk I know so well. His grip isn't hard enough to hurt or cause discomfort, but I hate it anyway.

"Let me go," I try lacing my words with bite, but they just come out... tired.

"Let you go? Why would I do that, sunshine? If you were more of a good girl, then I might have, to make you feel better about yourself. You'd have come back to me anyway, because it's not like you can get rid of me."

His face would look so much better bruised and dripping with his blood. His eyes would be so much prettier if they were filled with fear rather than the look of a predator analysing its prey. I wish I could just...

But I can't. I can't do anything. Because he's Sosuke Aizen, the prodigy of the Gotei Intelligence Agency. And I'm just... Y/n. An ordinary officer. Not the most beautiful like he is. Not the smartest. Not the most talented. A nameless agent amidst a sea of thousands like me.

"Aw, don't give me that look," He says with fake concern. "While I do appreciate the view of your lips puckered up all pretty for me, I'd rather it be in my bedroom, with you lying in my bed, eyes all teary and red for me. Don't you agree?"

"Shut up. What do you want?"

"You've asked me this question a million times, pretty, and my answer has remained the same. I want you. It's as simple as that."

"And, likewise, my response will never change - I don't want to be yours. I hate you, Sosuke Aizen. Let's get this mission over with, and never speak to each other again."

"Fine, fine, as you wish," He replies with a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. I don't like that look, but then again, I don't like anything about him.

Except maybe how beautiful he looks when the sun catches in his gorgeous brown locks...

I take a moment to gather my thoughts and begin formulating a roadmap to ensure we can complete the mission as quickly as possible.

"Alright. I'll speak to Operations and make the necessary arrangements. Based on the leads Director Yamamoto has shared with us, I believe it would be best if we set out for Hueco Mundo, as it's apparently the last place the Espadas were seen." I say, and wait for his acknowledgement. "Hello? Did you even listen to anything I said?"

"Yes, Agent Y/n. As you command," He says in a singsong that does nothing but get under my skin. Earlier, I was mildly irritated. Now? I'm positively triggered.

Best get away before things go awry...

"Great. See you tomorrow." I say through gritted teeth and head for the cafeteria bar. I really need a drink right now.

"Hey, why the long face, girlie?" Rangiku slings an arm over my shoulder and asks with genuine concern.

"Aizen." I grumble before downing my vodka.

"Aw... I get you. Just go easy on the drinks, hun. You want to be in tip-top condition for your upcoming op!"

"Thanks, Rangiku. I know. I'll miss you while I'm gone,"

"Me too, Y/n. Try not to die on the job!" she says with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood. She opens her arms, inviting me in.

"That's if his mere presence doesn't kill me first," I snicker, and accept her embrace. She always manages to uplift my spirits. I have no idea how I'll survive being with Aizen without having her to rant to at the end of the day. Well, I'll have to manage... somehow.

The next day

As I sit in the driver's seat of the car Director Yamamoto claimed was the most inconspicuous one available in the company, contemplating all the life decisions that have led to this moment, somebody raps on the window.

"Open up, predator."

I don't even need to look up to recognise the voice. That telltale smugness is enough for me to realise that it's Sosuke. Slightly irritated that my tranquil moment had been disturbed, I unlock the door with a sigh and point to the passenger's seat, indicating for him to sit. He places his suitcase in the backseat, and while he gets settled, I begin navigation for Hueco Mundo.

He doesn't make an attempt at conversation - something I appreciate. Basking in the silence, I try to dissect the case further. Something about the gang seems... fishy. The members' personalities are varied - some are loud, others are quiet, but one thing is clear - they aren't capable of such organisation and stealth. Typically, such personalities will be involved in crimes like petty theft, and maybe getting into fights. But they aren't. They're responsible for exposing the G.I.A's most confidential secrets, secrets even lower-ranking members of the organisation aren't made aware of.

Someone is definitely pulling the strings.

A/N: Ngl I kept laughing everytime I read 'G.I.A.' 😂

I was inspired by that one interview of Tite Kubo in which he said he'd originally wanted to have the Soul Reapers wear suits and wield guns. Thought it would be a cool idea to try out!

tags: @ninaskylight, @darthwhorecrux, @aizen-no-kodoku :)

[sunny-knight]

*blinks at you*

You make epic aus

Wanna talk about any of em? :3

OKAY SO

Thank you so much, first of all :3 and also THANK YOU SO MUCH- CAUSE I ACTUALLY HAVE COMPLETELY CHANGED MY UNDERTALE COPE AU AFTER CHAPTERS 3 AND 4, LIKE IT’S SO DIFFERENT AND- okay…

Im gonna separate my TADC and UT/DR AUs.

And because my TADC AUs are WAY shorter, they’ll go first

TADC

Ive said my peace on the Cope AU, not much else to add honestly…

But there is another one that I have, It’s called "temporarily demoted". The “plot” is pretty simple, Caine lost a bet with Bubble, and they have to swap places for 5 days.

That’s basically it- The main function it serves for me in my brain is exploring Caine and him discovering empathy through this experience, plus his relationship with Ragatha cause OMG THEY’RE SO SIMILAR

I also love imagining scenarios where Bubble ends up taking over and everyone has to work together to take him down (portal 2 reference/dialogue)

Thats basically all I have to say in terms of Digital Circus chicanery, time to get into the-

UNDERTALE DELTARUNE IM LOSING MY MIND AAAA

So basically I am completely retconning my original Cope AU because those are supposed to be completely pandering to me and me alone, and CHAPTER 3/4 GAVE ME NEW DESIRES FOR THESE CHARACTERS.

The original surrounded around the idea that Sans and Papyrus were ALWAYS really close, and is more or less a feel good story with a touch of angst tossed in for good measure. EVER SINCE THIS SHIT THOUGH-

Ive started really liking the idea that maybe Sans and Papyrus DIDN’T have that good of a relationship before, and after almost losing everything when they had to escape Deltarune for Undertale, Sans reevaluated a lot of things in his life.

…

So NOW my Cope AU is less fiction based than before, now having some actual merit behind it. Buuuutttt since im just here to tell the story, im not planning on explaining much of evidence- BUT IF YOU WANT IT ILL GLADLY MAKE A DEEP DIVE ON THAT STUFF!

I MIGHT EVEN DO THAT ANYWAY! WHO KNOWS!!!

…

Now FINALLY…the story…Once upon a time, grandpa semi died, yada yada, Sans took in Papyrus, it was a hard decision, all that remains the same. But this time, all that stress is getting to him, Sans is trying his best, but right now he’s honestly not being the greatest guardian for his brother. (JUST LIKE TORIEL :D).

(Also they’re a bit older, instead of Papyrus being like 10, he’s more around Kris’ age, 17-ish, while Sans is like late 20s, early 30s, cause IF HE WAS 18 LIKE IN THE ORIGINAL, THEN THAT JITTERBUG SCENE WOULD BE REALLY BAD 😭😭😭😭)

Papyrus is not doing very well because of yknow, his grandpa dying, but also the moving, and having a really hard time making friends/being understood. Sans alone is supporting his brother financially and emotionally, so, stressed. Also not doing too well. they’re just sort of drowning together right now.

Sans tries his best to get Papyrus to talk to people, inviting Kris over, but no matter what Papyrus is ADAMANT about not talking to anyone, which adds some frustration to Sans’ situation.

Skip to chapter 4/5, and Sans spent the night at Toriels house, drunk, when he wakes up and goes OH MY GOD and runs home, but the door is locked and Papyrus isnt answering the door. (They’ve only got one key- and its with Papyrus since he’s always home to let him inside. Sans was also hoping he’d take the opportunity and leave the house for a bit, but, yknow).

So anywho, Sans deduces that he’s pissed rn, which is- FAIR- so he just decides to attend the festival, then hopefully have a talk with him after, and apologize for not telling his brother where he was.

…Noteably when he tries to call Papyrus’ phone, its nothing but garbage noise

THAAAATS RIGHT :D While everyones out and about enjoying the festival, Dark Fountains are getting created in everyones homes assuming no one would NOT be at the festival!!! So THEN when everyone starts heading home, they discover and go OH NO!!!! WHAT IS THIS???

NOW TO TUNE IN ON SUSIE AND KRIS FOR A SEC! They’re like “for fuck sake”.

But before they even have time to panic, they take notice that Sans is talking frantically to Toriel, saying “MY BROTHER IS IN THERE 😭???” so ✨THE FUN GANG ✨ Goes on a little rescue mission like they did with Toriel :3

…

I hate to cut it there- but thats honestly all I have in terms of story. I HAVNT HAD ENOUGH TIME TO PONDER ON IT FOR 500 DAYS AND NIGHTS LIKE I DID THE LAST AU, JUST LET ME COOK

I have a lot of ideas. Too many ideas.

He’s so BirdBrain core.

i’ll check back in, in like a month

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

women in male fields

fratboy!jaehyun x reader

summary: you’re fully aware you’re dating a reformed fuckboy/fratiest fratboy to exist but that doesn’t mean he can get away with acting like a douche without a taste of his own medicine… OR the 3 times sweetheart finds herself acting like a fuckboy and the 1 time Jaehyun calls her out

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swearing, fuckboy behavior, mentions of alcohol, Americanized college described (l'm American), pet names (sweetie, sweets, sweeteart, sweet girl) in order to avoid using y/n, Imk if I missed anything!

a/n: there was something completely magical in my Chili’s triple dipper because I sat down and pounded this out for 4 hours with minimal breaks! I’d had this idea for a while but figured I’d get it out before everyone forgot about the #womeninmalefields TikTok trend. Feedback is appreciated!

Timeline-wise let’s say this is about 6 months into Jae and Sweetheart being a couple

This story is a part of my fratboy!Jaehyun universe!

dividers from cafekitsune

You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were getting into when you started dating Jung Jaehyun, one of the most fratboy fratboys to ever exist. You had been around for the parties, for the handful of nights where he overdid it and got sick, countless nights of standing by to watch him play beer pong, no dates on Sunday evenings because of frat meetings, and a couple philanthropic events. You were used to a lot of it by now. 

But your boyfriend had adapted himself so well to this role that you honestly kind of hated some of his behaviors. He had changed some habits, of course. He was no longer the fuckboy fratboy that slept around, no, he was committed to you and you alone. He made some effort into being romantic which took some work since his idea of romance was sending you a daily Snapchat for your streak with a red heart. Gross. Now, he got you flowers occasionally and your favorite snacks. His room used to be an absolute pigsty and now he at the very least he shoved his mess under the bed so you didn’t see.

Then there were some habits that didn’t change and you were tired of them. Beyond tired of them. You were tired of him passively listening, barely paying attention to you, being kind of an asshole, and just being a gross guy. So you decided to give him a taste of his own medicine. If he could do all these things and you could still like him, why wouldn't he still like you?

It had started when you texted Jaehyun on a Thursday afternoon and he didn’t respond until Saturday afternoon. It had been nothing urgent, but you were still annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he’d done this. In fact, it was a horrible habit of his. He started a conversation or read a text you sent and just never responded. You knew now, based on experience and the other guys telling you, that Jaehyun sucked at texting. He would still post on Instagram or Snapchat, posting various athletes like they were his friends and promoting frat activities like normal. It was almost like he forgot that the primary function of a phone was to communicate. Good thing he was pretty!

It didn’t make it any less annoying that your boyfriend didn't care to change this habit for you though, so when he finally texted you back, you decided to give him the same treatment. Saturday came to an end and you didn’t text back. Sunday was the same and so was Monday. He texted you countless times, so many questions, random updates on his day, and asking you if you were ok or if he should send help to your dorm. So when you knocked on the door Tuesday afternoon scrolling on your phone when Jaehyun opened the door. It was pretty safe to say he was pretty confused.

“Where have you been? You didn’t answer any of my texts,” Jaehyun asked while he led the two of you upstairs.

You hummed noncommittally, your eyes not leaving the screen of your phone, “oh yeah, my phone broke. My bad.”

Jaehyun opened his mouth to argue, ready to tell you that he had seen you posting on your stories, your phone didn’t look new, and he had heard you on FaceTime with Haechan just yesterday. That you were literally scrolling through Instagram when he opened the door, but he didn’t say anything. He just pulled you into his arms, and pulled up the most recent episode of one of your shows. 

He couldn’t really complain if you were here with him now, right? You were in his bed, in his arms, laying on his chest. Everything was fine. A few days of no contact was normal and you both had a good enough relationship where it shouldn’t bother him, right? But it did…

The next time Jaehyun pissed you off was just a week later. He had proven to be a little extra clingy after his punishment of silence and that was good enough for you. It had been enough to hold you off with some of his, less than perfect behavior, until the next time he messed up. Sure, enough it was just 7 days later when he acted stupid again. And it was time for him to learn again. Sometimes he just had to learn to not do something by doing it and learning the consequences. Like a child… or a pet.

Jaehyun had had a stressful week. You knew that, he had told you about it the last time you saw him just yesterday, so you did feel kinda bad for deciding to pull this out of your sleeve now. How was he going to learn if you never tried to fix it though?

Jaehyun was pacing around his room, running a hand down his face and staring at the email that basically told him nothing from their partner sorority. He was social chair, so he was in charge of planning mixers. That’s exactly what he was trying to do! But the Kappa social chair was either knowingly being a pain in the ass or just naturally was a pain in the ass. How was it useful for Jaehyun to know when a handful of sisters all had an astronomy class?! Why did that matter when he was asking her to choose from a handful of dates he’d already chosen?!

Not only was this sorority social chair being annoying, Taeyong had been on his ass to plan some kind of sponsored philanthropic event, but everyone Nu Chi had worked with previously was being so difficult! No one was returning a single one of his emails, he spent his afternoons on hold or making calls, and just getting in contact with new companies and vendors just took so much effort. He currently had one sponsor, which was fine, whatever. But nothing Nu Chi Theta did while Jaehyun was social chair was ever just fine. Fine was acceptable for Alpha Sig’s but not for Nu Chi’s. He would need at least two more sponsors to reach the level of finery he was used to working with.

So that’s what Jaehyun was texting you about, his fingers tapping across the small screen of his phone while he put all his ranting and raving into words and sent off the text with a sigh of relief. You would talk him down, get him through his stress, and give him some advice for his problems. Then he’d feel like a new man, ready to tackle his problems with a clear head just like you always did for him. Just the thought of your advice had him smiling down at his phone while he added ‘sorry, about that. had to vent. how was your day sweets?’ and sent it your way.

On your end, you read through the long text ready to reply and give him some advice and offer your own help, but then you remembered… You remembered how just a few days ago you were venting to him about a small argument you and Ari, your roommate, had gotten into, and he showed no signs of actually listening. You went to him for a reason! He had at least 10 roommates, he never had complaints about any of them, so it wasn’t like you were talking just to talk! You wanted your boyfriend to give you some advice like you always gave him, but all you got was a “damn... Wanna order me some wings?” You had to physically keep jaw from dropping. God, he could be such a fucking guy sometimes! It was like talking to a fucking wall! Albeit a very good looking, handsome wall, but a wall nonetheless.

It was time for him to get yet another taste of his own medicine. Instead of taking the time to offer your advice or offer your help, you smirked, staring at your screen as you typed out, ‘that sucks’. Next text, ‘My day was chill, kinda hungry … send me door dash?’

On his end, Jaehyun stared at the screen with blatant confusion, watching as the minutes ticked by while he waited for some long paragraph with solutions and encouragement to be sent his way. After five minutes nothing came. The same after 10. No change after 20 and then he sets his phone aside feeling grumpy and pissy. Why wasn’t his girlfriend helping him? Did you even read his message?

And he couldn’t exactly call you out on it because it wasn’t an issue between the both of you. They were problems he had before you guys were together sure, but he liked having you to lean on now. He sighed tiredly, resting his chin atop his folded arms with a pout while staring at his dark screen and willing you to text him back again so all his issues would be just one step closer to being fixed.

His heart skipped a beat when the screen lit up and he saw the familiar combination of emojis used for your contact. He reached for his phone eagerly, feeling his heart soar at the anticipated text where you would help him solve his issues. But his face fell into a frown and he groaned out loudly at the words on his screen: ‘is my food on its way yet?’

The last reciprocation of his fuckboy energy was probably the worst. You honestly don’t know how you let Jaehyun get away with it practically unscathed, but karma was coming around now and she wasn’t merciful. It was your pièce de résistance, the cherry on top of your fuckboy sundae, your magnum opus, your masterpiece. 

To give Jaehyun some credit, it had been a while since he had dated a woman for a long period of time, or really, dated any woman at all. Maybe he had forgotten some very basic decorum and manners as far as ways to act and things to say or not say. Just yesterday you had been complaining about your professor being very vague in the instructions for your assignment, and even more vague when you emailed him to ask for clarity. “Like the instructions make it sound so simple, but it can’t be that simple if this project accounts for 30% of our grade! Like hello, is it hard to reply to an email with words that actually fucking mean something?” You groaned, running your fingers through your hair while you texted your project group chat what your professor had replied.

Jaehyun chuckled, running a calming hand down your back, focusing his relaxing touch on your lower back as his fingers kneaded at your muscles, “chill out sweetheart, I think you’re making this a bigger deal than it actually is.”

You sent him an unamused look from the corner of your eye, “chill out? Jae, I just said this project accounts for a third of my grade. I can’t be chill about this.”

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then your neck, then your shoulder, “are you… you know?”

Your fingers froze over your keyboard, waiting for his next words, giving him a chance to backtrack. He stayed silent and waited patiently. You exhaled, speaking in a voice that was all too eerily calm, “Am I what, Jaehyun?”

“Are you on your period? You just seem extra worked up about something kind of pointless.” He replied casually, his fingers continuing to work at your lower back. The exact area you had once confessed hurt you so bad you could barely stand in the first couple days of your period. This- somewhat thoughtful- little shit!

You smacked his hands away while you closed your laptop and gathered your things in a hurry, mumbling, “you’re such an asshole sometimes.”

Jaehyun stared at you in shock, an asshole? He was being an asshole for caring about his girlfriend’s well-being? “Sweetheart, it’s just that you seem to be making a bigger deal out of this than it actually is,” he tried to explain.

You held a hand up, silencing him, ”every time you open your mouth, you dig yourself into a deeper hole. No, I’m not on my period. Yes, it is a big deal and yes, I’m actually leaving. Good night and goodbye.”

This very conversation had been playing on repeat in your mind while Jaehyun vented to you about Johnny being up his ass about new recruits being low as he paced around his room. “I mean, it shouldn’t be solely on my shoulders if recruits are low. There are plenty of brothers who don’t have as many responsibilities as I do. Like, I barely figured out the whole sponsored mess with Taeyong and now Johnny decided to stick his foot up my ass too. Can I get a fucking break or something?!” He ranted passionately.

You stared at him blankly from your seated position on his bed, forcing your smirk to stay hidden. “Is it… you know?” You began to ask.

“Is it stressful? Hell yeah it is, I mean shouldn't we have any and all brothers taking turns trying to recruit. I mean that’s why I take my time to throw mixers, parties, and sponsored events that kick ass so that people want to join,” Jaehyun replied with a tired sigh.

“No,” you laughed softly, “is it like your time of the month? You seem to be making a big deal out of nothing?”

When Jaehyun turned to you with his eyes wide in astonishment, he expected to see you laughing it off playfully. He expected for you to confess that you were just kidding and kiss him sweetly. But you cocked your head to the side and raised a brow as if to ask, ‘what’s the problem?’

After that, Jaehyun was quick to rise to his feet, pinning you with a heated stare. “What the hell has been up with you? You've been acting… grimy for like the last month.”

You laughed in astonishment, “I’ve been acting grimy? Huh, then imagine how I feel on a regular basis!”

“You?! Sweets, you’ve been acting like a douche! Like when you didn’t respond to me for days even though you were posting like normal and you lied about your phone being broken! Like, hello! You were on Instagram right in front of my face with the same crack on your screen since I’ve known you!”

You raised a brow, holding back an amused smirk, “that’s all? I don’t reply for a couple days and now I’m a douche? Babe, you’re being like really emotional right now, calm down.”

“And that too!” Jaehyun exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at you, “why are you asking me if it’s my time of the month when I’m talking about something that’s bothering me? I want you to support me. You did the same thing when I texted you looking for advice when I was handling the whole mixers and sponsors thing.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, “well, I don’t know what you want me to say right now.”

Jaehyun raised his brows and shook his head as if he couldn’t believe what the hell he was hearing. Was he in some kind of alternate universe? Had aliens come down and planted worms in your brain? What happened to his sweet girlfriend?! “Well, an apology would be really nice,” he replies while cocking his head at you.

“And have you ever apologized to me for any of that same behavior?” You ask in a calm voice.

“Wha- me apologize?! This isn’t about me! It’s about you!”

“Oh, so it’s only a problem when I act like this and not you? Got it.”

“When?! When have I acted like you?” Jaehyun asks in exasperation, eyes wide with shocked confusion.

“Hmmm. Let me think!” You exclaim before dramatically placing the tip of your finger on your chin, “just like everyday we’ve been together, you dummy!”

“Give me examples. I can’t believe this.”

“Alright, how about how I’ve had to train you like some kind of pet to learn some very basic texting etiquette? I let you get away with being a shitty texter for months and the one time I do it, you go crazy. I got used to not getting a response from you after days on end and I act like you did one time and you almost call campus security to my dorm to see if I’m alive,” you state, counting out a single finger. 

With the next finger, “I come to you for advice regarding my single roommate considering you have like a hundred of them, and what do you do? You say, damn, buy me wings? Who the fuck does that?! So it didn’t feel very good when I did it to you, huh? Did you like looking for advice only to be hit with some bullshit response and then asked for food? Which I never got by the way!”

Third finger, “And just now. Oh no, did you not like being told your issue meant nothing? Awww, mmmm, are you sad?” You pull your face into a very sarcastic sad face, “now imagine how I feel when you asked me if I was on my fucking period?! Like, have you never been around someone with a vagina? Even Mark and Haechan who barely pull know better than to ask some shit like that! And these are just three of your douchebag behaviors! Shall I continue, Mr. so called I’m-perfect-and-can-never-make-mistakes-because-that-would-be-impossible!”

Jaehyun stood speechless. Was he really that bad? Well, clearly he was. He had to admit he didn’t think he was this bad. He had been really good about adapting to his new role as a boyfriend and thought everything else that came his way was just going to be easy to handle. Apparently, he hadn’t handled it all the right way.

“I didn’t realize I was this bad, I’m sorry. Wow,” Jaehyun sighed, sitting on the bed with his folded over his mouth, “sweetheart, I’m really sorry.”

But that was another way Jaehyun had adapted. He didn’t start arguments while being hard headed, he listened when the issue was serious, he accepted wrong doing, and made changes. 

You crawled across his bed, sitting beside him and laying your head on his shoulder, “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been petty. I should have told you these things bothered me in the moment instead of using them against you… but it was kinda fun.”

Jaehyun rested his head atop yours and chuckled softly, “I think I’m really glad you’re not one of the frat guys because we’d always have girls in here yelling about you gaslighting them. How did you handle me doing this for so long?”

“It helps that you listen when it matters. You’re sweet, you can be romantic, you care about me, you make an effort for me, I can tell you’re trying to be better for me even if it doesn’t all come easily for me,” you explain in a calm voice, “and you’re hot as hell, the abs don’t stop, and you keep that body nice and tight for mama, don't you baby boy?”

Your cackle rings out across his room while he jumps away from you with flushed cheeks. “Don’t… don’t talk like that. It’s totally freaking me out!”

“Come on, babe,” you tease while deepening your voice playfully, “bring me that ass.” 

You manage to grab him while he tries, and fails, to jump away. You playfully knead his (lack of) ass while grinning up at him. You pucker your lips, to which Jaehyun playfully rolls his eyes before kissing you sweetly. “I’m so glad you’re a girl because you would be an absolute terror as a guy,” he states while shaking his head and cupping your cheeks.

“I think I should rush, baby,” you respond playfully, “you could be my big, dude! Come on, bro!”

“Enough of this!” Jaehyun jokingly hisses, “I want my sweet girl back.”

“Fine,” you drawl out with pout, “let this be your lesson though, Jae. When you go low, I can go lower. And I will go lower.”

“Trust me, I’ve learned. I’ll be better at texting, I’ll be an active listener, I’ll give you advice when you need it, and I’ll never ask you if you’re on your period again,” Jaehyun nods.

“See, you’re such a great learner. Let’s go get you a treat, baby,” you smile sweetly, pressing a kiss to his cheek before taking his hand and leading him down the stairs toward the kitchen.

“I don’t know how I feel about you talking to me like I’m a dog…”

You smile at him, “you like it.”

Jaehyun raises a brow, “do I?”

You hum, grabbing the ice cream from the freezer, “yup, you have a praise kink.”

Well, if you say so…

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

It’s dark. The window is still open, but the chillier air is kind of nice on Eddie’s flushed skin.

The clean bedding is nice too; Eddie tries to remember the last time he appreciated something as nice as clean sheets and draws a blank.

Probably when he still lived with Wayne. Probably before they made it big. Probably before the partying started.

Eddie picks up his phone, his thumb hovering over the call button. He presses it.

Wayne doesn’t pick up. Eddie’s not surprised, not really.

He tries Chris; she doesn’t answer either.

Likewise Gareth.

He doesn't bother calling Jeff.

There’s no one else in his phone; Chrissy took it all away when Eddie couldn’t differentiate between a friend a dealer or a booty call.

Like the worst Marie Kondo ever, Chrissy had held up the hundreds of friends Eddie had in his phone, one by one, ‘does this spark joy?’

No. Sometimes sucked his dick, though.

Eddie has money though. He twirls his phone on his chest, flipping it from long edge to short. There’s always somewhere open. Flip. Flip. Flip.

Not like anyone's answering him right now anyway. They’ve just left him here. With fucking Steve. It’s just one time anyway, he wouldn’t get away with it more than once. Chrissy would put him on proper lock down if she found out. Probably shove him back in the clinic.

So...just once.

One last go. And then he’d quit for sure. He hasn’t touched it for months, so he’s pretty much proved he can do it, anyway.

Eddie gets dressed. Finds cash balled up in random places.

Eddie stands in the doorway. Look up at the stars and then across the lawn at the security gates. He hasn’t had so much as a cigarette in nearly half a year. This is fine.

“Where you going, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs. Fucking busted. Still, “no where you need to worry about.”

“Uh hu.”

“Look, I’m not on house arrest okay? I can go out, I’m a grown fucking man.”

“You totally are. You want to go out, you go for it. No skin off my nose.”

Eddie whirls, shocked, “what the fuck? Aren’t you supposed to try and stop me from doing dumb shit?”

Steve raises the eyebrow, “so you admit it’s dumb?” He looks sleep rumpled, wearing sweats and a white tee shirt.

Walked right into that one. “You’re dumb.”

The face again. The totally schooled features that are utterly professional and give absolutely nothing away and yet...somehow...he’s laughing at Eddie. Eddie can feel it.

“So you go out,” Steve saunters over, stands next to Eddie, bare toes curling over the doorstep, “you score or drink or do whatever it is you’re aiming to do. Then what?”

“Then what,” Eddie mimics, all bitchy, “I’ll come home, and I’ll sober up, and it won’t change a fucking thing,” Eddie bites out.

“You think? You’ve had sober spells before, is that how it’s gone in the past?”

Eddie takes a deep breathe, because no, no that is not how it’s fucking gone in the past, “this time is different.”

“Is it?” Steve asks, completely fucking nonchalant, “how so?”

Eddie doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to punch someone so bad in all his life. Imagines it viscerally, Steve's fucking head cracking on the door frame while he slumps to the floor in a bloody heap.

Eddie does not do that, obviously.

“Look, I’ll come home, we don’t do anything about it, you still get paid, sound good?”

“I get paid either way,” Steve shrugs one shoulder, because he’s a cunt. “This is how a lot of addicts die, did you know that?”

“What?” Eddie asks, startled by the left turn.

“Yeah, get out of rehab, think their tolerance is still the same, get back on it…” he doesn’t bother to finish.

“That won’t happen to me.”

“Oh yeah, right. Of course. Because you’re Eddie Munson, sorry, sorry, forgot a second there.”

Eddie takes two thumping angry steps into the yard and just...just fucking screams at the sky. Just...roars at nothing. This is shit. It’s so shit. Everything is shit. And Eddie nearly fucking died last time and there’s no escaping that fact. There’s no help. There’s no point to any of this. There’s just pain and fucking misery and something clawing at Eddie’s insides trying to get out.

He roars until he’s hoarse. Until he can’t any more. Until his chin is wet with spit and he feels week and rung out.

He sits on his ass on the cold, dewy lawn.

Steve is still standing in the doorway, he doesn’t look like he’s moved at all. If he’s at all bothered by Eddie’s little meltdown, he isn’t showing it.

“Why did you want to go?” Steve asks finally, "did something change?"

Eddie shrugs, he’s got nothing, not really. No real reason past just wanting to get fucked up. Because it feels good. Because he likes it.

“Okay, what’s worth staying for?”

Eddie makes a dismissive ‘pfffft’, made croaky by his fucked out voice.

“They always say you need to do these things for yourself,” Eddie glares at Steve, because that's some dumb shit right there. Always had it in therapy though. Self worth. Mindfulness. Living in the moment and being proud of what you’ve already achieved and every journey starts with a single step and all that other bull shit they try and feed you. “I know. I agree. When you...feel like you’re nothing, you’re not worth any effort. It’s the hardest time. So pick someone else. Who can you do it for?”

“They don’t care,” Eddie croaks, “they didn’t answer,” he pulls his phone out, flips it onto the grass.

“Who?”

“Chris. Wayne.”

“Okay, give me a good reason why Wayne didn’t answer? That’s your uncle, right?”

“Yeah he...he could be at work,” Eddie admits quietly. Eddie’s given Wayne money. Well, practically forced it on him. Set him up with a nice place; or at least as nice as he could talk Wayne into. Wayne doesn’t believe in free loading though. Eddie’s convinced him to do less hours, but he still works nights two or three times a week. Claims it’s ninety percent of his social life, or some shit like that.

“Okay, and Chris?”

Eddie shrugs, embarrassment over his outburst making him petulant now.

“Eddie, what time is it where Chris is, right now?”

Eddie sighs up at the stars. It’s the middle of the fucking night, “late. Early. I guess.”

“Okay. So they’re not ignoring you, they’re just living their lives like normal human beings. Come on, get up, your ass is gonna be wet.”

“And do what?” Eddie snaps, “what’s the fucking point.” It’s not a question.

“Come on, I want to show you something.”

“It was a tough time, you know? Like, life sucks hard sometimes. Music helps. My favorite is The Wilds, you know? You heard that one?” The interviewer mumbles something indistinguishable, “it’s kind of...like the bit about the shining sea, you know? How like, it’s so beautiful, but it’s fucking hard to sail on. Or like how the mountains are so beautiful, but if you go up there alone, you’re gonna’ die, right? So I think...like how insignificant, and meaningless my life is, in like, the grand scheme of things, but like...that makes what you do even more important, right? Like, it means more, when you choose to be...I dunno,” the kid with a million piercings shrugs, “like just be good to each other, you know?”

“That’s not even remotely what that song is about,” Eddie mumbles at the laptop monitor.

Behind him, Steve snorts a laugh, “well that kid thinks it is.”

Another kid, more makeup than the whole of Kiss slathered on her face, “I just think it has meaning, you know?” The interviewer mumbles something again, “oh my favorite?” A lip bitten in thought, she looks at the sky for inspiration, it’s sunset, Eddie figures. Lots of similarly dressed kids in the background. Takes him a second to realize this was filmed outside of a gig, or something like that. “It’s hard to pick, but if I gotta’, it’s definitely Double Down. Those lyrics are just...Eddie Munson is just...he’s a fucking genius, you know?” She frowns, “but also really fucking dumb soemtimes, I hope he’s okay.”

“I didn’t even write that one. Jeff wrote most of that. On napkins, I think. I just...worked it together.”

Another kid, saying how important Corroded Coffin are; how they helped this kid through hard times. Honestly it’s a difficult watch, Eddie has no fucking clue where Steve even found this, and when Eddie’s phone rings he jumps on it, glad of an excuse to slap the screen of the laptop closed.

“Hi, Eddie! You called, sorry it’s early I got up to go for a run-”

“No. No, it’s fine, I...I shouldn’t have called you so late. Early. You were probably sleeping.”

“That’s okay, of course it’s okay, it’s nice you called me,” she snickers, “you never call me.”

That’s true, and Eddie feels bad. It’s always Chrissy chasing after Eddie. Trying to keep a lid on him...trying to keep him safe. He was always the one dodging her. “Yeah, sorry…” Eddie gets up so he can walk away from Steve, tail between his legs he slinks into the hall, he vows, “I’ll try and do better.”

“Good, how are you feeling? Hows your rut?”

Eddie is not fucking admitting that he just had a breakdown and nearly fucked it all up in the middle of the night. No fucking way is he admitting that, “yeah...yeah, just...couldn’t sleep, you know? I guess the rut...still going. Feels weird.”

Eddie can hear Chris moving around, figures she has him on speaker or something, “uh hu, that’s because you haven’t cycled a proper rut in like, four years honey, these things take time to settle. Is Steve doing okay? You’re not being a cunt to him are you?”

“Well I’ve only thought about punching him,” something jogs in Eddie’s mind, “Chrissy, what happened to the cleaning lady?”

“Oh...we did talk about it honey but you weren't really...taking it in, I don’t think-”

“I was fucked up.”

“Yeah...but she…”

“Just say it.”

“The...you know, the vomit. You were constantly trashing the place. She was worried she was...well she was mostly scared she was going to walk in one day and find your body.”

“Oh.” Eddie slumps down on the bottom step, “that sucks. I liked her.”

“Don’t worry, her final pay was incredible. She got a really impressive bunch of flowers.”

“Oh...well. Thank you. For sorting that.” Eddie’s eyes feel wet. His lip wobbles a little, but he holds it in. He’s got no right to guilt about that, not now. “The place looks okay though, I think Steve’s been cleaning some.”

“Yeah, probably, he seems like a good guy.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, but the first tear breaks free and he knows he can’t hide it much longer, “go on your run.”

“Okay, speak later?”

“Yeah, course.”

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?”

“It’s so great to hear you sounding more like yourself, I missed you so much.”

Eddie hangs up, draws his knees up to his chest, the material of his sweats already darkened with tears.

Part Four

[yourstrulyrani]

a/n: this song just screamed simon riley to me & i finished up my internship at a doctor's office so this is inspired by both..enjoy!

simon riley x doctor/wife!reader cw: suggestive right at the end // wc: 2300

Simon Riley would never even dare to think he was worthy of loving someone. He never deemed himself as someone worthy of being loved either because who would ever date an SAS lieutenant who was so cold and so broken, let alone marry one? You didn't think that though. Simon was the strongest man you knew. You didn't believe that just because he was your husband, but because of the man he is. He has been through hell and back and he still has the strength to live another day. Even with all the chaos in his life, this man loves you as if you're the only woman on earth. He plants kisses so delicate, touches so soft, and words so sweet.

So why isn't he like this anymore?

It has been weeks since Simon has been back from deployment. Weeks of Simon answering your questions and talking to you with mere grunts and murmurs. Weeks without his touch, every night is a bedroom filled without the mix of yours and his moans and grunts. You're driving back home from work, happy that you could get out at the decent time of seven in the evening for today. You love being a doctor and seeing your patients, but it was even more rewarding when you had a husband waiting at home for you to talk to, to kiss and to hold and to spend the rest of the day with. At the penultimate stoplight before home you decide you don't want to go home this time. You thought to yourself there is no point anyway, it'll be the same thing this time too: You will come back home, tired and dirty in your scrubs but still greet Simon with a kiss to his cheek in an attempt to get more out of him compared to yesterday. He'll grunt, acknowledging your presence but not you entirely. You'll shower. Head to bed and sleep without the warmth of his arms around you.

In a need for change, you take a right on traffic light instead of the usual left home and drive to the gym. You usually don't exercise after work, since you're already exhausted from your career as it is. But Simon always used exercise as a way to get his energy out, so why not try something he does? You think of doing something light today just for some quick cardio: the treadmill.

You change into your heavily wrinkled gym clothing in your bag, at the least thankful for the change of clothing. You check in, change in the locker room, and head over to the treadmill. It's now half-past-seven, so you reason with yourself and plan on doing thirty minutes and heading home.

After some time, you stop the treadmill and feel the sweat bead down your face and back. You can feel your heart rate gradually slow down, but you've never felt better. Your hair feels wet and your cheeks are hot with the heat from the exercise. You take a glance at the watch and check the time and in bright letters: 10:58 PM.

Well who knew some quick cardio planned for only half an hour could turn into three hours?

Your eyes widen in disbelief. In the same way you made a beeline for the gym over three hours ago, you now do the same to get back home. Since you lost track of time, you only had such little time to shower and wind down before you had to wake up for another early shift at the hospital again. Knowing you, you won't get enough sleep to last you your whole shift the next morning, but at the same time the time at the gym truly helped clear your mind. You park your car in the driveway right next to Simon's truck, barely driven lately due to his time on deployment and his idleness coming home from it.

Before you could put the keys into the door, it opened. Your husband is already at the door, dressed in nothing but sweatpants. You froze, your hand still holding the key positioned for the door.

"Inside." Is the first word you clearly hear from your husband in weeks and you followed the command, heading inside still hot from your exercise. He closes the door after you enter the house and you can feel his eyes on your body. "Where were you?"

Your eyes squint in confusion. Here you are in gym attire, and he doesn't get the hint? "Is it not obvious enough, Simon?" You wave a hand up and down your gym clothes, "The gym?" You bite back, offering him a sideways glance.

Your husband crosses his arms, widening his stance. "It is a quarter past 11, doll. Cut the crap. Where were you?"

You scoff at his dramatic change in behavior. Where is the Simon that has been distant? You almost miss it. You take a couple of more steps into the house, taking off your shoes and setting them off to the side. "Don't act like all of a sudden you care. I could have been on the side of the road and you wouldn't have given tw—"

"Don't. Don't finish that sentence because we both know it's not true. I care."

"You care? Really, Simon?" You cringe at the discomfort you feel at the whole situation. You're sweaty and your back is sticking to your clothing. Your hair is sticking to your forehead. You walked on a stupid treadmill for three stupid hours and you can feel your legs give out slowly and all you want is sleep. You're pissed off at everything, but mainly at your man who claims to care right now. Without a thought to spare, you head upstairs to your shared bedroom.

All you want is a shower and some sleep. Simon follows you, the both of you knowing full well this isn't the end of the night. Simon walks into the room and sees you standing by your vanity before you could change out of your workout clothes. "What did you even mean by what you just said? Are you questioning the care I have for you now? You’re my wife."

"Oh please, Simon. If anything I have felt more like a roommate than a wife lately."

Simon's eyes widen at your words as he walks closer to you. "A what?"

You roll your eyes and gaze daggers at him, "Did I stutter?" You're too mad to think straight at this point and walk over to him, enough to feel his deep breathing on your skin. "I." You poke his chest once with your pointer finger, your head propped upwards to look at him, "Feel." Poke. Like," Poke. "A roommate." Even after poking into his chest, Simon feels the remnants of your aggressive touch on his body and can't help but to realize how mad you are. He stares down at you, poking the insides of his cheek with his tongue and clenching his jaw after. "Well. Say something, Simon!"

You aim for one last poke but Simon grabs your hand before you could, gentle enough to not hurt but commanding enough so you couldn't move it. "Stop acting like a brat and talk to me. What's wrong?"

"You know exactly what's wrong." You look up at him, your eyes threatening to let the tears flow out.

Simon sees the self-control you hold as you prevent the tears from slipping, and his heart breaks at the guilt he feels. He lets go of your hand, resting it at his sides. "So use that pretty mouth of yours and tell it to me straight then. Where were you?"

"The gym."

He nods, acknowledging your truth. "Okay. Now talk to me."

"I feel—” before you could speak, you tried gathering your thoughts. Your mind which was once cleared is now crowded in self doubt and pressure. You felt so much at once and you felt so close to breaking under the pressure. “I feel neglected, Simon. You came back from deployment and you've been shutting me out. You barely talk to me. You don't touch me. We haven't even had sex in so long. I need you." You let the tears fall, "I just miss you. I come back from work almost everyday and you barely even acknowledge me.”

Simon heard the break in your voice at the last word, and he couldn't help but to berate himself. In this moment, is where Simon thinks again exactly why he isn't worthy of love. He made you cry. His lack of love towards his sweetheart of a wife broke her into pieces so much she would rather spend her time after work at a gym rather than at home.

“Is that it?” He wants to hear more from you in order to fully understand how you’re feeling. Simon sits on the bed, taking your hands and having you stand in between his legs. He looks up at you, admiring the gorgeous features that make up you.

“Are you cheating on me?” You blurt out accidentally and see Simon’s mouth open slightly in shock. Simon couldn’t believe what came out of your mouth and neither could you. You know Simon would never but with the way he’s acting you let the doubt creep in.

“What? No, of course not. I love you. You’re the only one for me.” Simon takes his hands and rubs his hands along the side of your body in reassurance.

“So why doesn’t it feel like it?” You sighed.

Simon stays silent, staring into your eyes as his eyebrows furrow slightly in frustration. “I'm not worthy.” He shakes his head and looks down in embarrassment. You can see Simon's lips pout slowly, something he usually does when he's overthinking.

“Worthy? Of what?" Your hands move to his shoulders, rubbing in slow, soothing circles. The feel of him grounded you, and the feel of you grounded Simon.

"Of you, sweetheart." His mouth is parted as he sighs and shakes his head in a physical attempt to let go of the tension. "I am not worthy of the honor it takes to love a woman like you." He sighs again and rubs a hand down his face, scratching the stubble of his beard. He despises bringing work home to you in a fear of giving you stress about what happened when he was away from you, but he has to speak up this time. "My job, sweetheart. It's the complete opposite of yours. You save lives and I take them away. It can't work like this," Simon's voice lowers in shame. "You're too sweet for this world, you care so much. And I care so little that I don't think twice about pulling the trigger. When I came home I drowned in guilt, so disgusted with myself." The more Simon talks, the more you can see his eyes gloss with tears. "I come home to a woman so warm and I am a man who gets more brutal as the time goes by."

You let Simon speak his truth before placing your hands to cup his cheeks, and you knew it was a good sign when you felt him melt into your touch by moving his head a little closer. His hands return to your sides, once again needing your body under his touch to ground him. "You are everything to me, Simon. I don't see you as a brutal man but a man who is worthy of my love." Your thumbs rub against his cheeks, feeling the mix of prickly stubble and skin as you do so.

"But I kill pe—"

You shush him gently before he could finish his sentence. "None of that. That's what you're supposed to do." A hand of yours moves to his hair, raking your fingers through it. In a way, Simon's hair represents how much of a mess he truly is. It has clearly grown out too much, which is unusual compared to the haircut he always has. He hasn't been caring for himself in the way needs or deserves, "You're a soldier, and an amazing one at that, Simon." Your fingers rake behind his ears, one of, if not his most favorite, spots.

"Feels good, lovie."

You giggle at the way he relaxes under your touch, "The touch or my words?"

He hums, "Both. And I didn't mean to shut you out. I love you. I'm sorry."

You frown at the sincerity of his apology and lean over to kiss his cheek. "I love you too, baby."

Simon passes you a cheeky grin, "You're calling your roommate 'baby' now? Weirdo." He chuckles, making a joke at what you said earlier. You smile fondly at your husband. Everything finally feels in tune with how it should be. You hear your husband chucking and see him smiling and being playful. You feel the strands of hair under your touch.

In the intimacy of the moment, you want Simon to know just how much you think he's worthy of you. Since you're already standing in between his legs, you lower yourself slowly. Your knees bend until they reach the hardwood floor and your forearms find their way to rest on your husband's thick thighs. Simon's head moved to keep his gaze on your body as it lowered. You could see your husband lick his lips and his chest rise quicker. "I promise I'm going to make you feel so worthy, Simon. Starting now."

He lets out a breathy 'yeah?' and you nod passionately. He adjusts his hips and spreads his legs further to accommodate for your body in between them. His hands find the ties of his sweatpants, already getting ready for what you're going to do next.

You for sure kept your promise and made him feel oh so worthy that night.

[blairxbear]

Do you think you could write an Aizawa x fem reader who is a new teacher and her quirk is having cat like qualities like night vision, sharper nails, quiet walking, excellent balance etc. and she also has cat ears and a tail?

(If she can have an “orange cat” personality as well that would be wonderful. If not I understand and I’m sorry,I’m not sure if I did this correctly I’m still trying to figure out how to word things correctly)

A/N: Hi Lovely! No problem at all, I hope you like it!! I wasn't sure if you wanted it in a romantic context or not but it did end up going that way, if you don't like that though let me know and I can make changes :)

The Stray That Stole His Heart

Shota Aizawa had always been a man of patience.

A man of routine, discipline, and quiet solitude.

So naturally, when Nezu had announced a new hire at U.A., he had assumed nothing would change.

But then you arrived.

And Aizawa quickly realized that nothing would ever be the same again.

The first time Aizawa met you, it was during the faculty meeting, and he immediately knew two things:

You had cat ears and a tail, which made an impression on everyone in the room.

You were completely unpredictable.

It wasn’t just your quirk—which, admittedly, was impressive. Enhanced agility, night vision, sharp reflexes, and an uncanny ability to move so quietly that even he—someone who had trained himself to be hyper-aware—could barely hear you coming.

No, it was your personality that truly caught him off guard.

You were chaotic, to say the least.

Unfiltered, playful, mischievous—with a penchant for getting into trouble just for the fun of it.

An orange cat in human form.

And it drove him insane.

But what was worse?

It also fascinated him.

From the very first week, you had made it your personal mission to test his limits.

You frequently showed up late to meetings, claiming you got “distracted by something shiny.”

You napped in the most inconvenient places—on top of file cabinets, across the teachers’ lounge couch, even once on top of Aizawa’s desk (which had earned you the deadliest glare of his life).

You stole his coffee. Regularly.

You pounced onto his shoulders from above, just to “see if his reaction time was as fast as everyone said.”

(It was. But he still nearly had a heart attack that day.)

And yet—

Despite your absolute disregard for personal space and normal social conventions, you were a damn good teacher.

Your students adored you, your battle tactics were sharp and effective, and you had a natural talent for handling even the most rowdy kids (cough Bakugo cough).

And somehow—despite all your antics—Aizawa found himself growing used to your presence.

To the way your ears twitched when you were listening intently. To the way your tail flicked when you were irritated. To the way you always tried to get a reaction out of him, even when he refused to give you the satisfaction.

And then, one day—

He realized he had a problem.

Because he liked it.

It was late one evening, long after most of the staff had gone home.

Aizawa had been grading papers, exhaustion creeping into his bones, when he heard the softest footfalls outside his office.

No one else would have noticed them.

But Aizawa knew exactly who it was before you even poked your head inside.

“Still working?” you mused, stepping in without an invitation, tail swaying lazily behind you.

Aizawa sighed. “Obviously.”

You hummed, moving closer, perching yourself on the edge of his desk—a habit he had long given up trying to correct.

“You know,” you mused, eyes glinting in the dim light, “you’re always telling me I should take my job more seriously. But when was the last time you actually took a break?”

Aizawa didn’t respond.

Because the answer was too damn long ago.

Your lips curled slightly, as if you could read his thoughts.

Then—before he could react—you reached out, plucked his red pen from his hand, and tossed it across the room.

Aizawa stared at you.

“…Did you just—”

“Yep.”

“…Why?”

“Because you’re done for the night.”

His eye twitched. “I still have work to do.”

“Nope.” You grinned, tail flicking playfully. “Work is done. I have officially declared it.”

Aizawa exhaled heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I don’t have time for your games, Y/N.”

But you weren’t backing down.

Instead, you tilted your head, ears twitching slightly, and for the first time since you had met, your voice was softer.

“I mean it, Shota,” you murmured. “You do too much. Just… take a break. Just this once.”

Something in his chest tightened.

Because no one ever told him to slow down.

No one ever took the time to worry about him.

But you?

You had been paying attention this whole time.

And that was the moment he knew.

That he was completely and utterly doomed.

Ko-fi / Masterlist

blairxbear © 2024. do not copy, modify, or translate my work. you do not have permission to share my work outside of tumblr!

[evening-desire]

How will our fem boy be if we were to date him?

good question!! also i'm so sorry it takes so long for me to answer this, and also it's very short, I've been busy with my j*b sigh.

yandere!popular!mean!femboy : what's it like when dating him?

cw : bullying, violence, possesive behaviour, blood, uh if there's anything else lmk.

first of all, nothing really change lmao. oh you really thought he would be nicer to you just because he's dating you? *loud in correct buzzer* WRONG.

he's just the same old mean self even though he's your boyfriend, just a little- if not more possesive and obssessive over you than before.

oh what's that? you're just going to the kitchen to grab some snacks? he's coming with you. why are you talking to that lame girl huh? are you cheating on him? what? she was just asking some stuff about school? well she should know better to not glance even worse- trying to talk to what's his.

only he- have the privilege to hear your beautiful voice.

the next day, that same girl that wad asking you about a group project is getting transferred to another school. rumours said that she went home with broken nose, missing nails, and big red marks on her cheeks yesterday.

rumours said that she got beaten up by a drunken man, but you know better who's the real culprit behind that.

he'll parade you around, walking through the school ground with his bag over your shoulder, as he clings into your other arm with a smug smile as people whispering around you.

looks like you have to get used to the attention now that you're dating the most popular person at school, don't worry if they ever dare to make an eye contact with you, he'll pluck their eyes out of the sockets with his glittery pink acrylics nails.

yes, he will still order you around like his servant, but much less frequently, sure he still order you to buy him something from the vending machine or cafetaria, but he will give you his money and told you to do whatever you want with the change instead of using your own money.

his crude comments towards you will lessen, only the lighthearted comments stays. like how silly your outfit is before dragging you to the nearest store and book the entire store just so you can choose a "less" lame outfits.

one day he'll sit in front of you in a korean bbg restaurant and complains about how you "made him soft" and stuff like that, before shoving grilled meats into your mouth.

but if you're a vegan, he will make sure to always bring you to the best vegan-friendly restaurant in town, and don't even think about splitting the bills either, he will glare are you- definitely offended that you're even thinking such thing.

he's already so possessive over you before dating, and it's just keep getting worse when dating you, you can't escape him for even just an hour, he will start thinking that you are cheating on him.

not that he didn't trust you, he didn't trust other people. what if someone take you away from him if he let down his guard just for a second? you know that other people are worthless scum that's always jealous of him, they always wanted what he have. they can try copy his style, buying the same branded bags, outfits, even the same nails design as his.

but they can never have you, no. he will never let people near you, let alone have you. only he can.

besides, how can you need other people when you have the prettiest, hottest, richest, boyfriend right by your side?

and god forbid when you want to break up with him btw.

divider by @.adornedwithlight & @.cafekitsune

[tommykinard6]

Here’s something I shall drop into the void

Buck waited for another two weeks after he first saw the text bubbles on his phone, opening his and Tommy’s chat at every possibility to wait. He waited for those bubbles to reappear, for a sign that Tommy was still thinking about him. But there was no sign, no bubbles, no nothing.

Buck had changed Tommy’s name in his phone to his own nickname in a valiant attempt to keep himself from reaching out. It didn’t take long for him to change it back, something in him desperately needing to see Tommy’s name. He was grasping at crumbs and he knew it.

Two weeks later, he nearly dropped his phone as the text bubble reappeared. His heart sped up and a lump appeared in his throat as he watched with baited breath. He was alone in the gym and he was glad of it. His friends meant well, he knew, but he didn’t want his phone snatched away from him again.

He’d already seen his future get snatched away. He couldn’t bear to watch it happen again.

The bubble went away, then reappeared just as the tones went off, calling five stations to a fully involved apartment fire. Cursing under his breath, Buck shoved his phone in his pocket and ran for the engine.

He checked his phone again just before arriving at the fire, heart sinking at the lack of message or bubble.

***

The blaze didn’t go down for hours. By the time they got back to the station, Buck had forgotten about his phone for the first time in weeks. As everyone else hit the showers, he finally pulled it out of his pocket for the first time in hours and froze.

There was no text message.

There was, however, a voicemail.

Buck’s feet took him of their own accord into the bunk room, away from any distractions. He fumbled with the buttons before shoving the phone to his ear. He couldn’t hit play fast enough.

“Evan.” Just hearing Tommy’s voice again made all the emotions surge, anger and sadness and longing and confusion all gelling into a thick lump in his chest. “Or B-Buck. I don’t know if I have the right to call you Evan anymore.”

It would always be Evan. Even for Tommy. Especially for Tommy.

“I just-I needed to say something. And I know you’re on shift. Probably at that fire downtown. Be safe. Please.” Buck didn’t know that he’d ever heard such uncertainty in Tommy’s voice. It was unfamiliar and unsettling. He didn’t like it. “This might be the coward’s way out. And I hope you don’t feel obligated to listen. I just need you to know something. You deserve answers, ones I didn’t give you before.”

There was a long moment of silence on the other end.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I want you to know that. I ran away because of my own problems, not because you did anything. You talked about me being an inspiration, but Evan, Buck, I’m anything but. I wanted nothing more than to agree to moving in. It wouldn’t be your place though. I have a house. It makes more sense to move into mine. I wanted that. I still want that and it’s not fair to you.

But at the same time, I realized that you-you think I’m a much better person than I am. Evan, you’re-you’re fucking amazing. You love unashamedly, you keep your family close, you aren’t afraid to be yourself. I’m always afraid. I’m never good enough. I’ve never been enough. Done some shit that I can never undo. Said shit I can’t take back. I hurt you, I hurt Abby, I hurt a lot of people by being a coward. Hurt myself most, I think, and I’ll never be deserving of you. And I was afraid of you figuring that out for yourself.

I shouldn’t have said all that shit about needing to explore. You don’t need to do that for your identity. I said you should because I knew that you would find someone worthy of you. It’s not me. I wanted it to be. I really fucking wanted it.” Tommy’s voice broke. Buck swiped at the silent tears running down his face, disturbing the soot settled there.

“I’m fucking selfish cause all I want is that future we had in front of us. I’m an idiot for letting you go and I would be an idiot if I tried to stay, knowing I could never deserve you. I’m so-so confused and lost and I just miss you. I love you and I’m a mess.”

Buck choked out a sob, scrubbing at his face.

“That’s not fair. I shouldn’t have said that. That’s not fair to you.” Tommy was quiet for another moment. “I think what I’m trying to say is that I ran because I was scared of you breaking my heart. I knew if I ran first, it would just be hurting myself. You hurting me, it’s something I could never predict or prepare for. It’s the unknown. Because all you’ve ever done is make me happy. I’ve never felt more alive than with you. Every moment we were apart sucked and these last few weeks…” Tommy trailed off again. Finally, he blew out a deep breath.

“I’m a mess. I thought I was put together. I thought I’d done my time in therapy and had worked through these issues, but I haven’t. I’m-I’m back in therapy now. I’ve got a lot of shit to work through. Feels good to tackle it though. I’m doing it for me mostly, but I’m also doing it for you. For us. Even if you would never take me back, I’m doing it because we deserved it. Because you deserved it.

I would take everything back that night if I could. I have no right to ask you to listen to this. I don’t know if you ever will. I have no right to beg for your forgiveness. To ask you for another chance. But if you let me, I would. Maybe not yet. I-I gotta work through some shit first. But I would spend every day and night for the rest of our lives making it up to you. I would never leave you again, not my choice. I’d spend the rest of my life making sure you’re loved and that you never doubt it.

You owe me nothing. You deserve better. You could tell me to fuck off, or ignore me. I’ll respect whatever you want. You never signed up for this. I’m so sorry that I hurt you.”

The line went silent for a long time. Buck had to check to make sure the voicemail hadn’t ended, sniffling as he did so.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. You’re it for me and I should’ve fought harder to tell you. I should’ve told you I love you. I have a lot of regrets, Evan. You’ll never be one. Letting you go will be my biggest.”

And the voicemail ended.

“Fuck.” Buck whispered, rubbing away the tears from his eyes. “Fuck. Goddamnit.” He pulled up the automated transcript of the voicemail and read it until his eyes swam again. He saved the voicemail and the transcript before pulling up their messages.

Buck: you’re gonna say all that to me in person. And then we’re going to talk about it. No more making decisions for me, but we’re going at your pace now not mine

Buck: and I’m going to say it back in person

Therapy would do them both good. Maybe therapy together would help too. And maybe it would all be for nothing, but even as much as it all still hurt, Buck wasn’t going to deny himself what he wanted anymore. These last weeks had been hell enough.

Buck: and it’s still Evan for you

The bell went off in that moment and Buck wiped his face again hurriedly, grimacing at the realization that he hasn’t even gotten to shower yet as he ran out of the bunk room. The others looked him up and down in concern as he climbed into the truck, but he didn’t pay attention. He didn’t even know what kind of call they were going on, too in his own head to listen. His mind just kept looping on,

I love you

[lostintransist]

Thoughts on Divorcing John Price?

r/AmItheAsshole

TL;DR I got married to escape my parents and now 10+ years in I think I want a divorce.

How did I end up here? Ten-plus years into a marriage I don’t actually think I wanted and I’m only now starting to piece everything together. I was too young to get married. Too damn young. But thanks to the religious trauma and my parents (just assume I am throwing up a peace sign and sticking my tongue out one side of my mouth at this point because what the hell else am I supposed to do?) I took the only out I saw. That looked like one [Redacted] John [Redacted].

My parents couldn’t say shit about my marrying so fast as they did it themselves. So six months in and me, John, my parents, and the judge made it official. I was Mrs. John [Redacted]. God, I hate how we let men sit atop everything. Why couldn’t I make him take my name? I mean…my father’s name. Damn. See what I mean?

We had a good honeymoon I think? A solid week of traveling and having fun together. Once we were home though things changed; he didn’t start hitting me or anything. God forbid. The man would have woken in a box on the way to the hospital and he knew it. Much as he wanted a “traditional” wife he picked me knowing I kowtow to no one and nothing.

That might have been the start of the problems actually. He was gone so much that I set everything up in every flat he moved us to. And what did every flat reflect? Me. As much as John let me in he barred me out with the same fervor I imagine Bluebeard guarded his bodies. I get it though, we both had issues from childhood we had yet to unpack or quite frankly address in ourselves let alone our marriage. I’m ashamed it took me nearly twelve years to realize the reason I said yes to the marriage proposal was because I was truly scared I would never escape my childhood hell any other way.

Fuck. How does one go about planning to blow up one’s life and walk away intact?

We have kids, John and I. Three of them and I love them so much that if I ever started life over I would make all the same choices to meet them again. It’s not much of a change really, if I have full custody of them, John is hardly ever home as is. They love their father though. I wonder if I ever did. Love him, I mean.

God, I don’t know how I got here. When he leaves the only changes will be to his side of the bed and the closet. There is me everywhere else. He never fought me on it though, and would never make a decision about changing anything and actually follow through. It was like all of his choices got used up at work and when he got home all he had was a yearning for me to fix it.

The last straw shouldn’t have been what it was.

We had a good holiday together, going into the mountains and hiking and playing in creeks with our kids. I showered with our daughter, cleaning us both, and then asked him to handle cleaning the boys. It shouldn’t have been a problem. Shampoo and condition their hair and scrub their bodies then toss them in towels and clothes.

One of our boys has long hair, kiddo hates the sound of clippers and lets me brush and wash it so I don’t care that it grows. John complains that it gets everywhere and threatens to cut it off. I hate that it would somehow become my responsibility to handle if he ever did follow through. When I catch sight of this boy, clean from the bath I coax him into the bathroom to brush his hair. And what do I find? Un-fucking-washed hair.

“John? Did you wash his hair?”

A breath of silence, the hesitation slightly longer than it should be.

“I think you know the answer to that,” comes his gruff reply.

Motherfucker! If the man would fight with me instead of putting on his work face and letting the rage in my eyes simmer until all that is left is coals I might feel better. But no. I simply order the child to strip and get back in the shower so I can wash his hair. Now both of us are annoyed with John’s inability to follow through on the full process of cleaning a child. He made me lunch as an ‘apology’. I would rather he used his words than assume I understand that he did this kindness for me to show he was sorry.

It’s like the dishes all over again. Fucker can’t seem to wash the hand wash items and lets them sit until I am ready to explode and throw them into the street but won’t stop using them. If he needs them to make lunch though? No problem, he will clean the single one he is going to dirty again.

I can’t explain this to anyone though. I can’t say ‘I don’t want to be married anymore. Not for any particular reason, but I keep hoping that when the doorbell rings it’s the military in full dress coming to tell me of my husband’s death so I can move on with my life and be free.’ Yeah because that is something that will absolutely make sense to everyone I tell.

This is a head-in-hand kind of thought. What a fucking awful person I must be for my brain to assume that there is no way out other than death and wish it, even benignly, on the father of my children. God, I must be as horrible a person as I suspected. Maybe I can wait until our youngest is in school and I am back to work? I have been keeping a small part-time job so as to never fully leave the job market but even if I use all of it to pay off our shared debt other than the house it would take years to settle everything.

Would John even fight me on this? I’ve heard whispers that he might be more than friendly with some of the men he works with. Rumors get around on base, some men like their wives and share more than parenting duties with them.

I guess this is all I have to say about this for now.

So all that said AITA for wanting to divorce my husband?

Masterlist

[katmostardently]

Set after the Doyle arc, Emily’s been a bit distant and guilty for everything, you’ve been patient nonetheless.

Implied death, hurt/comfort, fluff, barely implied smut

ʕ⁎̯͡⁎ʔ༄

Word count: 737 words

a/n: I got some ideas after listening to Would You Fall in Love with Me Again, it’s short but it’s 4 am, I blame all my mistakes on that. I currently have some ideas for longer stuff but I’m lazy, tired, and uninspired so here are my scraps!! :;(∩´﹏`∩);:

Would You Fall in Love with Me Again

“I’m sorry, I know I’m not the Emily you fell in love with.”

Her voice cracked, and you’d never quite seen Emily so broken down. You could see the genuine sorrow in her eyes, each line of her face filled with guilt. After getting out of a life or death situation because of Doyle, it was as though the only thing she had left for you was regret. Emily hated it, because someone like you didn’t deserve it

Someone like you didn’t deserve to have your heart shattered, torn to bits, to be forced into grieving, just to have it all been for nothing. Yet here you were, and that was just what happened.

Even if a week had passed since her return, hardly anything was settling in, even then, you were still there.

You placed the plate of spaghetti you’d just prepared for Emily down, settling on the couch next to her. “Emily-“, you were quick to start, and Emily was quick to silence you.

“I’m sure you’re more upset than anyone on the team, you… You’re wearing my ring for god’s sake, I couldn’t bring myself to even let you know about all this…” Emily’s mouth had quivered, letting out a shaky breath as she turned to you. “I made you wait, and now I’m not even the woman you adored so much. Y/n, I…”

She looked at you, not wanting to leave you alone ever again, but at that same moment, not feeling worthy to hold you in her arms. “I’m so sorry…” Sure, Emily was in fact changed, anyone would be.

She had this tired look in her eyes, like she wasn’t truly there, like she needed some escape. You saw it in the moments where she got home from work, when she’d secretly discard your food at night. The cigarettes in Emily’s pockets, the nights you’d wake up and cradle her through a nightmare. It all tore away at her piece by piece.

But in those same eyes, you saw the same eyes that lit up every time you were near, the same eyes that called to you with a single glance.

The same eyes, pooled with that intense devotion, that stared up to you when she knelt down on one knee a year ago.

“It’s true, you left me waiting, and it hurt, the fact that I couldn’t know you were alright.” You answered her honestly, “but it hurt even more to think you were dead. I wanted whatever monster took you from me to suffer, and I felt cursed thinking that you were taken from me.”

Before she could muster a response, you took Emily’s hand, holding it against your cheek.

Instinctively, she traced her thumb against your lips.

“And I’m so, so, so happy that you’ve come back to me.” With the way you were looking at her, Emily was certain that she’d married a princess—no, some generous, all forgiving goddess.

“I don’t deserve you…” She whispered, her hand continuing its gentle caress.

You let out a little chuckle at her words, shaking your head, “see, now only my Emily, would say something so untrue. Because you, Emily Prentiss, deserve the world.”

Then to be exact, it felt as though you gave Emily a whole galaxy, because in moments like these you always brought her some solace. There was not a single doubt you couldn’t crush with your benign palms.

She could simply hold you close in response, pressing a kiss to the top of your head as you felt her heartbeat.

Emily knew that her heart would never stop, not when she’d been given the best of all women to be her fiance. She vowed to never let it stop, not when you’d be waiting for her, she could never again leave you frozen in time. Her dearest, y/n y/l/n, soon to be y/n Prentiss.

Perhaps she didn’t have to worry all that much, because somehow, you fell back in love with her new, shattered self. But really, you just simply never stopped loving her, there was no need to win you back, to make you fall in love again.

“Now… Your spaghetti’s gonna get cold….” You reminded, about to move when Emily stopped you, tenderly pushing you against the cushions. “I want my fiancé right now, not some spaghetti…” She murmured against your neck, and you smiled in response.

Forevermore, you’d never even think of giving up Emily Prentiss.

[gaywalker80085]

Party

Pairing: Wanda x G!P NB reader

Genre: Smut

Summary: You are attending a party and see a beautiful woman, but there's no way she would ever be interested in you. Right?

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, and drunk smut

A/N: Hey y'all all sorry again for disappearing for so long. All of my fics will still be coming out at random intervals, but for the foreseeable future, they will be scenarios I daydream about meeting my girlfriend in. And guess what not proof read

Words: 3527

Masterlist

All you wanted to do was get ready for bed early so you could bedrot and still go to bed at a good time. Even though it's the weekend, how are you supposed to have the maximum amount of time to rot your brain tomorrow if you don't wake up at a reasonable hour?

But of course, Natasha just had to go to this week's Stark party and would not relent when you tried to deny her invite. "Come on, it will be fun, I know you like to dress up. Pleeaassee."

You do like to dress up. Despite being a home body you know you clean up nicely, and it is pretty fun to see how sharp you can get yourself and how many longing stares you can attract.

"You've been working out more too so you know someone will come home with you, just saying."

Sold

Now its 7pm and your contemplating how many buttons to have open while factiming Natasha. "1 seems to closed, but 2 shows my tank top and I don't know if that's good or bad. Also, 1 hides my chain.."

"So obviously 2, I know you like to be modest and all, but I'm telling you girls will like 2."

"I suppose you're right."

You finish getting ready by putting in your small silver hoops and spraying your cologne before heading to Natasha's room. She wanted you to get ready there, but you know all too well that you need maximum alone time before going to this party if you want to stay for any real amount of time.

The party being in the same building as your room makes it all too easy to bail and the slightest amount of overstimulation.

You dont even knock on her door before Natasha opens it. "Wooow Y/N looking good looking good."

"Really? Is there anything you would change, be honest?"

"No, I think you really got it this time,e even your hair is looking pretty good."

She's right for some reason, recently your hair is a frizzy mess more often than not. It's most likely because you stopped putting in as much effort as before, but with your new schedule of waking up early and training, it's going to be a mess immediately anyway, so why bother?

You're a trainee for Shield, but you met Natasha when she was subbing for one of your teachers on a day she had nothing better to do. She thought you were pretty cool, so she spent extra time talking to you, and your friendship just blossomed from there.

"Are you ready yet It starts at 7, and it's 6:5,5 we're about to be lat.e"

Natasha just rolls her eyes at you. "Calm down its a party, they don't really start until an hour after they say. So when it says ,7 that actually means 8."

"Then why don't they say 8?"

"Because then everyone would come at 9."

"Why?"

"Because that's just how it is."

"But why is it that way?"

Natasha annoyingly elects to stop answering you. You are a punctual person, she tells you this hour after stuff all of the time, but it's just so annoying. Why say 7 if not 7? Why is it a culture to be late? There is no on time, only early or late, what do people not understand?

You decide to go into Natasha's room and take a quick nap before it is time to go. You have found that napping is the only way to keep yourself from stressing about the time.

Once it is time to go, Natasha actually wakes you up nicely for once. Over time, she has realized that abruptly waking you up, whilst temporarily funny, is not good for anyone unless they want you to be a snarky zombie for the next 1-2 hours.

You both head downstairs once you've had a few moments to come to your senses. You're armed with your earbuds and your over-ear headphones in Natasha's purse just in case your earbuds aren't cutting it.

Once you and Natasha make it into the room right at 8, of course, it isn't too packed, thank god.

You spot Bucky and Sam across the room and head over to them. You give Sam and Bucky some quick side hugs. You 4 had hung out a few times recently, slowly becoming a small friend group. Sam and Natasha head to get some drinks.

"I'm surprised you weren't here earlier. How in the world did Natasha talk you past 7:30?"

"She let me sleep in her bed. She had no choice unless she wanted to be here at 7."

"Well, you haven't missed much. I'm hearing a lot of 8:30's so you're still early in reference to most."

Natsha and Sam come back 10 minutes later, and you all stand around talking and laughing as the room fills up.

By the time you're 3 drinks deep, you're feeling loose enough to get your next drink yourself.

You head up to the bar, waiting your turn to be served, when you look over and see the most gorgeous woman you've ever seen. Wanda. You had seen pictures in the news and stuff, but despite frequenting Natasha's room and therefore the Avengers floor, you had somehow never crossed paths with the witch.

You quickly realise you've been staring and tear your eyes away from her. All you can think about is her now. You want her to be burned into your memory so she's all you'll ever see again.

You can help but sneak another glance, quickly looking over. You try to keep it short, but you also need your eyes to have time to focus on every part of her.

She's sitting with her back to the bar, talking to Carol, joking about god knows what. Shes wearing a simple black dress with a slit down the leg and heels. She's enjoying the conversation, but you know you could make her laugh more.

You turn your gaze back to the bartender in time to give him your order.

By the time you make it back to your friends, they are talking about something new, but you don't care; you're just thinking about her.

After 5 or 10 you have no idea minutes have passed your friends need more drinks. Natasha is about to go but you quickly volunteer.

"I'll go!" You say a little to quickly

Natasha looks at you confused "You just go a drink you've barely touched yet?"

Shoot, you were so deep in that you hadn't even tasted your drink yet, but you want another chance to see Wanda. So you do what you gotta do and throw your drink back in 2 big gulps and snatch your friends' empty cups before they can question you any further.

When you make it back to the bar, you look over, surprised to see that Wanda is now sitting alone. This time, you choose to stand a little closer to her, granted you're still 3 or 4 seats away, it is technically closer than before, so you call it progress.

The bartender is taking his time to make his way over to you but you arent complaining since this gives you all the time in the world to admire Wandas side profile as she scrolls on her phone. She seems quite uninterested in the party.

You could show her something that she would be quite interested in. Just as you think that Wanda's lips quirk into a slight smile.

You wonder what she's looking at. Nothing could be as fulfilling as looking at her. Her smile grows wider, but she seems to be trying to fight it. Weird.

The bartender comes over and you give him the order for all 4 of you, but when he walks away and you look back to continue staring at the beautiful Wanda, she's gone.

You look around, but you don't see where she went, deflating your shoulders a little, but when you look back toward the bar, you see auburn hair out of the corner of your eye.

Snapping your head towards it shes sitting right next to you, back on her phone, but she looks up at your sudden movement.

"Oh, I'm sorry, was someone sitting here? The vent was blowing on me over there,e and it was making me cold," she says, looking up at you through her eyelashes.

Fuck. Up close, she's even more beautiful, not a single imperfection on her flawless skin.

Her cheeks grow red, and you realize you haven't answered.

"Oh, um, no, sorry I just uh..." you ramble like an idiot trying to make an excuse for whipping your head around.

"Are you sure? I can move if you're here with someone, really, it's no problem."

"NO! I mean uh, no, sorry, no, I'm not really here with anyone, just my friend."

Wanda smiles softly, looking amused at your ramblings. "Oh really, whose your friend?"

"Uh, Natasha, she made me come."

"Made you?"

"Yeah, I normally just chill on the weekends, but she convinced me, I guess."

"And how did she convince you?"

'Women'

"Oh, you know, just saying I'll have fun and whatnot, you know the usual."

"Really, that's all it took? That seems pretty broad to me."

The look in her eyes seems like she knows something, but what would she know?

The bartender comes over with your drinks, and considering how hard you're bombing, you take that as your cue to exit.

"Well, I need to bring these to my friends, so if you'll excuse me."

Wanda smiles as you try to start balancing all 4 drinks in 4 different types of glasses. 'Damn them and their differing tastes this was easier when they were empty'

"Why don't I help you with one of those?" Wanda suggests, and before you can answer, she's picked up a drink. Your drink.

You don't protest as youd rather accept her help than embarrass yourself by spilling.

When you make it back to your group, you turn to take you drink back only to see a breathtaking sight.

Wanda is taking a long sip of your drink, making eye contact with you through her eyelashes over the rim of your glass. All you can do is stand there, hand half outstretched, mouth agape.

She finished her sip, putting your drink into your open hand while licking her lips. All you can do is close your hand and stare at her lips

"That's pretty good, maybe I should get one for my next drink."

Your mouth is dry as you try to come up with a response, but Natasha beats you to it.

"Oh hey Wanda, what are you doing over here?"

"Hey, Nat, I was just helping your friend... I'm sorry I didn't catch your name." She says, turning her attention back to you, placing a distracting hand on your bicep, which you swear she gives a squeeze, still pretty much in your same position.

"Uh, Y Y/N" You stutter out.

Natasha gives you a knowing smirk before looking back at Wanda.

"Well, that was very kind of you, thank you so much, Wanda," Natasha exclaimed a little too nicely.

Wanda stood around talking to your group for a little bit hand never leaving your arm.

As you watched her talk to your friends, your mind began to wander, especially as your 4th drink started hitting. All you could think about was wanting to kiss, which progressed into touching Wanda, which then progressed into tasting Wanda. With that, though, Wanda choked on her words, a little bit confusing you. Nothing out of the ordinary had been said in their conversation, at least out of what you heard.

Then, all of a sudden, a very vivid scene played in your mind. You're standing in a room you'd never seen before, holding Wanda upside down, tasting her and teasing her as she takes your full length into her mouth. The scene was so clear you swore you could feel it.

Just as fast as the vision came, it went. When your eyes refocused on Wanda, her face and chest were flush. She turned to you before coming close and whispering in your ear, "I need another drink, would you like to come with me?" before looking up at you, making direct eye contact.

You just nod, and her hand slips into yours, pulling you quickly towards the bar, but before you make it there, she pulls you towards the door. You're confused, but you don't care enough to resist as long as she keeps her hand in yours.

"Where are we going?" You ask even though you don't really care you feel you should at least pretend.

"My room," Wanda says quickly before pressing the button for the elevator.

"Your room? What's in your room?" you ask. confused.

Would you like to go to her room? Yes.

Do you think she would randomly take you up to her room for the reason you would prefer? Hell no.

"I'll be there, is that enough reason?" She asks, seeming impatient as you both step onto the elevator.

You nod your head side to side, "I suppose," you say, racking your brain to try and figure out what the hell is going on.

When the doors open, Wanda pulls you out of the elevator so fast you could have gotten whiplash.

She pushes you into the 3rd door on the right before quickly closing the door behind her.

You've seen this room. This is the room from that... Dream? You saw. Wanda steps in front of you, looking up at you with is that.. lust in her eyes? No way.

"Wanda, what is-" you begin to ask before she cuts you off, reaching her hands to the side of your face, tilting your head to meet her eyes. "Your thoughts are very loud, возлю��ленный (sweetheart)"

You're confused for a second until. Fuck. How could you forget "The mindreader" What the fuck how do you forget that.

You're about to start profusely apologizing, but before you can, she pulls your head farther down so your lips are hovering over hers.

Staring at your lips, she asks, "Do you want to act on them?" looking back up into your eyes.

Fuck.

You lean in to meet her lips and lift her up as she wraps her legs around your waist her dress raising in the process. The kiss is fast and sloppy. Just the way you like it.

She's smiling, and she pulls herself tighter to you, grabbing a fistful of your hair.

You reach up to put a hand to her jaw as you lay her on the bed, never breaking the kiss. You try to savor the moment, not wanting to rush too much, but she has other plans. She reaches a hand down to grab your pants and pull your hips to grind into her center.

You let out a groan as you give in and start rubbing yourself against her, giving her the friction she desires.

Quickly, however, this begins to not be enough for the witch as her hand moves over to your belt buckle as she tries to open it. She gets impatient and her failed one-handed attempts, and her eyes flash red as your pants literally fly off of you, leaving you in only your boxers.

Surprised and half confused, you pull away for a second, but she's not having it as she pulls you back to her and flips you both over so she's on top of you.

She grinds her hips up and down your full length, her dress now high enough that you can feel her warmth through her thin panties. She moves her kisses down your jaw and to your neck. All you can do is grip her hips and tilt your head to give her better access.

She lifts the bottom of your shirt and starts kissing down your torso before sitting up. At the loss of contact, you prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at her in a confused daze.

"Take it off," she demands, and you quickly throw your shirt over your head. You look back at her as she stares at your torso, admiring you.

You begin to grow uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Seeming to sense it, she leans back in to kiss you. She moves your hands to the bottom of her shirt, wrapping your fingers around the bottom of her dress. "Take it off," she whispers against your lips. You nod quickly, gathering the bottom of her dress and lifting it over her head.

Oh shit. She's not wearing a bra. You've been trying to contain yourself, but it is proving somehow harder than you expected.

She grabs your wrists to move your calloused hands and places them on her hips, slowly moving them up her curvy sides until you reach her breasts, where she places her hands over yours to squeeze and knead her.

You don't need to be told twice. You take to massaging her on your own, sitting up to kiss her. She allows you one kiss before pushing you back and placing her hands on your shoulders to support herself as she resumes grinding down on your now fully hardened member, eyes closing.

If she doesn't stop soon, you're going to finish before her. You can't have that.

You move one hand to her side and one to her face before flipping you both back over.

She looks angry for a second, but you begin an almost attack on her neck as you begin grinding against her warmth again.

Her eyes close as one of your hands slides down her side towards the waistband of her underwear. You slide your fingers just ever so slightly underneath and run them slowly across back and forth.

You move your mouth up to her ear before whispering, "Do you want me to touch you, Wanda?" And you pull back to look into her eyes.

She nods quickly and grabs the back of your head to pull you into another searing kiss.

You slowly slide your fingers down until you reach her warm center and groan as you feel how wet she is. You slide your fingers up and down from her entrance to circle her clitoris and back.

She moans loudly into your mouth at the sensation.

You move your kisses back to her neck and then down to her hardened nipples as you slide your fingers into her.

At this, she digs her nails into your back while arching off the bed, moaning loudly. It doesn't take long before she's wiggling and writhing, but just before she finishes, you'd gently pull your fingers out.

She whines at the loss, sitting up. "Why'd you store? Please don't stop."

You smile, moving up to kiss her. "Don't you want to play out your little show from earlier?" you whisper.

You place a hand on the back of her head, pulling her up onto her knees while you stand up, still kissing her. You then bend to grab her waist and, in one motion, lift her up and flip her over legs over your shoulders pussy against your face.

She lets out a small yelp, which quickly turns into a moan as you dig in. She wastes no time before fumbling to get your boxers off, 8" of you slapping her in the face.

She moves to taste you moaning as she does.

Her mouth plus the vibrations of her moans make you rethink if you'll stay stable enough to hold her, but you know you must power through.

You both continue your acts on each other like your lives depended on it.

You knew it wasn't long before you would climax, whether you liked it or not, but you just hoped you were good enough for her to be in the same situation.

You soon became confident that your hopes were true as her thighs began to squeeze your head like she was trying to crush a watermelon.

As you felt yourself getting closer, you couldn't help but begin thrusting into her mouth, though trying to keep it gentle, you could only control yourself so much.

With a little more moaning and groaning from both of you, you knew you would break soon. Just when you thought you couldn't hold it anymore, you heard a loud moan from Wanda and felt her reach to massage your balls, forcing you to climax with her.

You tried your best to stay upright somehow successfully before walking over to lay her on the bed. You move on top of her and move lower to clean her up with your mouth. She whines at the stimulation, and you rub a gentle hand over her stomach before moving to get up.

Once you're standing and about to gather your things, you hear a disgruntled sound come from the sleepy witch before you're lifted up and placed under the covers beside her.

You aren't complaining, and you're crazy tired, so you scoot closer and she rolls to lie her head on your chest.

Masterlist

A/N: Sorry its short and probably not as well written as some of my other works I have to written in forever and also haven't been reading as often

@natashamaximoff-69 @i-dont-know-what-iamdoing @diaryoflife @cd-4848 @r3dheadenthusiast @bishopscheeseburger @winterstorm311

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[kingofthecotas]

fragile line (ao3) | ~1.8k

a/b/o fic because i got summer camp fomo ✨ no sex just angst and accidental alpha voice lol

“Pecco?” 

The quiet rap on his rider’s room door makes him jump, and perhaps it’s for that reason that his answer dies in his throat, the don’t come in, I’m changing caught behind his tongue.  

“Pecco, Davide said the meeting would be fifteen minutes later, he has something—ah, sorry.” Marc stops, mouth curled in a bashful grin at the sight of Pecco’s bare chest. “The door was not fully closed—um, the meeting will be later—” And his gaze lands on Pecco’s neck, the uncovered gland. His well-healed bite. “Oh.”

Stupid, is the first thing Pecco thinks, stupid for not closing his door. He’d thought it would be quick enough to change his T-shirt. He’d been careless.

The next thing—panic. Self-directed dismay. A hot flash of protective fury, for Bez, his Bez. The growl rumbles in his throat before he can swallow it; Marc freezes. 

No one outside the pack knows. It was better that way, Vale had told them, no questions, no accusations. Just a lot of team polos and high-necked T-shirts. And Pecco—Pecco has undone all of that in a single thoughtless instant. His eyes burn, something blazing taking hold in his chest. 

“You can’t—” The words sear, acid. “Do you understand? Do not say anything to anyone.” 

As quickly as it had come, the heat fades, leaves him blinking, spacey. Just inside his door, Marc starts, eyes glazed; his mouth opens soundlessly. 

He frowns, shaking his head as if dazed, and his lips move again. Nothing. His scent, so familiar to Pecco now, even through blockers and the smell of bike and rubber, shifts, falls through confusion to something much worse. 

“Marc…” 

Marc’s eyes blow wide, the same horrible realisation that hits Pecco, fist to the throat. He’s never—not once in his life—but he did, and now Marc is staring at him, unable to speak, because Pecco slipped up again, fucking again, twice in as many minutes. 

He lost control in the one way he swore he never would. He used his alpha voice. 

“Shit,” Pecco breathes, “shit, I didn’t—Marc, I didn’t mean—you can talk—”

Marc keeps trying, keeps opening his mouth; Pecco catches the voiceless shape of his own name and nausea claws at his stomach. 

“Close—close the door,” he rasps, then adds, “Please. Please.” 

Marc does, his terror fading to something awful and accusatory. With the door shut, his bristling scent fills the room, like a cat puffing up its fur to hide how scared it truly is. 

“I didn’t mean—” Pecco says again, but it doesn’t matter, because he did it, freaked out for a single second and ordered his omega teammate into silence. Bez would—if Bez ever found out— “Fuck, we can—I’ll fix this. I will.”

A glare follows, the how? obvious even without words. And, to be honest, it’s a great question. Pecco has no fucking idea. They can’t do it here, though.

“I think,” he starts, careful to leave it open now, careful to give Marc the choice, “I think we should go back to my motorhome. More private.” And if Álex catches even a whiff of the distress Marc is trying to smother now, he’ll have no issue clawing Pecco to bloody shreds. 

Pecco has never—it’s never mattered to him, Marc being an omega: not a distraction, like some media outlets liked to sneer, not when he’s only ever had eyes for Bez; not an aggravation, because Pecco has truly never given a single shit whether he’s racing alphas, betas or omegas, just as long as he can beat them. The thought of it being Bez, of some thoughtless alpha losing control and stripping him of his volition, pulls the sickly feeling back up through his gut like knotted rope. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, aching in his earnestness. Marc only tilts his head towards the fresh shirt Pecco had been intending to pull on. Five more seconds, and none of this would have happened. 

He tugs the polo over his head. Catching his own smell, ozone-hot alpha twined through with engine oil, he grimaces.

——

It isn’t any better in his motorhome, apart from the fact that team personnel are much less likely to catch Marc’s agitated scent. It fills Pecco’s nostrils, however, permeates every inch of the living space: still scared, yes, but also pretty fucking pissed off. 

“Marc,” Pecco says, and says a quick prayer in his head, possibly his last. “I don’t know how to undo it.”

The glower he gets for that is truly frightening.

“I’ve never—” He closes his eyes. Hopes his funeral is a nice affair. “That’s the first time I’ve ever done that. I’m sorry. I panicked.” Silence. He peels open one eye, twisting his lips together. “It’s Bez, by the way.” He feels—he owes Marc that, at least.

The look Marc levels at him is as close to yeah, no shit as he’s ever seen.

“We’re that obvious?”

A sharp nod.

“Fuck. Sorry. Again.” He pauses. “I need Vale, Marc.”

Frantic, Marc shakes his head, mouthing no. 

“He’s—he’ll know what to do.” If nothing else, he’s pack alpha. Pecco wants him here. He’d come to the paddock this weekend, free of GT and WEC and everything else that demands his time these days. 

Another vehement no that rolls Pecco’s stomach.

“Please. I fucking—we need to fix this.”

Marc bares his teeth in a would-be snarl. 

Pecco isn’t stupid. More than that, he wasn’t fucking blind eleven years ago when Marc came to Tavullia, when Vale stared at him like the sun was coming out whenever he smiled. And then—

And then.

If anything, Pecco thinks, not for the first time, it’s lucky they weren’t mated when everything collapsed with the force of a dying star. Black holes, now, the history of them, inescapable gravity wells.

“Do you know anyone who can help?”

A pause. A quick headshake. 

“Then—please.”

Marc doesn’t exactly agree, but his expression slips into something resigned. Pecco pulls out his phone.

——

It’s easy to pick out Vale’s scent, familiar to Pecco even in the sensory cacophony of the paddock; for Marc too, apparently, because he stiffens. Vale moves closer, closer—and stops for a beat: Marc’s distress must be escaping the motorhome. Footsteps climb the metal steps, too fast, and the door is thrown open.

Vale’s nostrils flare the instant he steps inside, eyes narrowed, a snarl in the curl of his lips: whether it’s for him or Marc, Pecco can’t tell. “Pecco, what—?”

Plaster ripped off. “Marc can’t talk, and it’s my fault.”

Valentino growls.

In all his years knowing him, Pecco has never seen Vale growl at anyone in his pack—nothing more than a good-natured grumble when Bez or Cele got a little too boisterous. Pecco flinches, ducking his head in submission, as the door slams closed and the white-hot anger of his pack alpha singes the inside of his nose. “What happened?”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know that, Pecco. I asked what happened.”

“Sorry,” Pecco whispers, primal instinct demanding he does so.

Protective. Vale is furious and protective. He’s standing between Pecco and Marc. Even as Pecco registers that, Vale rumbles an apology. 

“I—he saw my mating bite. I said he couldn’t say anything, and now—”

“Pecco.” You have to be careful, Vale whispers in his memory. It is not something you should ever use.

“I know. I know, but please. Can you fix it?”

“I can’t undo this, Pecco. You have to.”

“I’ve tried!” Pecco cries, like a whine, like he’s still a pup who needs Valentino’s guiding hand. “I don’t know, Vale. I’ve never—we have a meeting in an hour, we have to be on TV in the morning—his brother is going to kill me.”

But Vale shakes his head, eyes blank. “I don’t know—I never used it. Not ever.” Behind him, Marc shakes his head in agreement—and Jesus, not even when they were worse than bad. Pecco feels like shit, because even in the midst of a violent implosion, Valentino was able to control his instincts better than him. 

He whines properly this time, pitiful. 

“Okay. Okay.” Calm seeps into the air, only a hint of force behind it. “You were worried about Bez, yes? About somebody finding out?”

“Yes,” Pecco admits. 

“Do you think Marc would tell anyone? Do anything to hurt you or Bez?”

Pecco blurts, “No, of course not,” like a reflex, and it’s like unclenching his jaw after grinding his teeth through a long meeting, sudden relief from a tension he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. “Marc, you can—fuck, of course you can talk. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Marc gasps, an ugly gulping sound, then, “Jesus.” 

Valentino closes his eyes: his scent is clamped down, held close; has been since he closed the door behind him and took a stance in front of Marc like he still had any right to do so. Like his alpha.

“Sorry,” Pecco says again, and it feels like he’s saying it to both of them. 

Marc just stares, blank, gaze flitting between him and Vale’s sudden-hunched shoulders. 

“Please don’t tell Álex,” and that’s what finally gets him a smile, weak but real. There’s a wariness to the way Marc is holding himself now—and Pecco did that. He did that. “I can tell Davide you don’t feel well, it’s just a marketing meeting—”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Silence. Valentino still hasn’t moved. Marc glances at him again.

Pecco wants them out of his motorhome. He wants to sleep for twelve hours. And he wants his mate. 

Even if that means telling Bez the truth, even if that means being on the receiving end of the same distrust that’s now sitting behind Marc’s eyes.

“This will—it won’t happen again.”

“I know,” Marc murmurs, forgiveness coming easy as a breath for him. Pecco sometimes wishes it wouldn't. “I will knock next time.” Another pressed smile. 

It’s never mattered to Pecco that he’s an omega, and he’d always thought it never mattered to Marc either, but now—underbelly exposed, weakness prised open, he hates it, is squirming beneath it. Pecco swallows.

Marc loathes being reminded of the limitations of his own body more than anything else. And Vale, despite whatever happened between them, he never dug his fingers into this particular wound. Animal instinct halted before the bite became a mortal one. 

Still a fragile, desperate hope in both of them.

Pecco inhales; their smell, their smell, is woven through the air, the last hints of distressed omega all but chased away. Valentino still hasn’t looked at Marc, not once.

Well, that’s not Pecco’s fucking problem. “I’ll see you in—an hour, I guess,” he says to Marc, who nods and takes it as the polite dismissal it was intended to be. “Sorry. Again.”

“You didn’t mean to.” When Marc moves, heads for the door, Valentino twitches, clearly holding himself in place—except Marc pauses, tilting his head. “Are you coming?”

The door closes behind both of them.

[universefcb]

BOLD, HECTOR FORT.

→ Summary: You are best friends, but Hector is a scoundrel who always makes you feel embarrassed.

→ Warning: Mention of Reader.

→ Author's note: Someone made this request, but I'm unable to answer the ask😭 And I change my colorados every week because I'm an indecisive person, I'm sorry.

And sorry if there are mistakes, English is not my language.I hope this is what you asked for!

The smell of coffee filled the kitchen as she finished putting the cookies on the plate. The morning was peaceful, but Héctor's presence made everything more agitated inside her. He was there again, as always—smiling, confident, absurdly handsome, and, as usual, shirtless.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe, the dish towel slung over his shoulder and his abdomen splattered with a few drops of water.

She looked away, nearly dropping her plate. Héctor noticed—of course he did—and, as always, he took advantage. He slowly wiped away the drops with the palm of his hand, as if in slow motion. His gaze sought her with the same intensity as a ray of sunlight piercing through curtains.

“Do you always spill water on your abdomen or is it just here at home?” she asked softly, trying to sound firm.

He laughed.

“I think it’s just here. It must be the weather.”

She didn’t know where to hide her face. Ever since he started showing up more often—silly excuses like “I forgot the charger here” or “my house is under renovation”—her heart had been pounding. He was her best friend. And that was exactly why she felt ridiculous, melting every time he casually ran his fingers along her thigh or gave her one of those sideways glances, with that little smile that made her soul shatter.

But nothing—absolutely nothing—had ever left her as unsettled as that night.

It was an emergency: the heater in his house had broken, and Héctor showed up at her door with the perfect excuse to spend the night. She offered him the couch. He pretended everything was fine. And even though she acted like she was calm, she couldn’t sleep well.

Even worse was when he got out of the shower.

Hot steam was still rising from the bathroom when he opened the door, the white towel hanging loosely around his waist, drops slowly running down his chest, dripping down to the “V” at the indentation of his hip. She froze. The words died in her throat. All she could do was turn her face away and pretend she hadn’t seen anything—and ignore him for the next seven days.

Seven days in which he sent messages, audios, showed up at her house, all with that air of "I don't understand what I did wrong".

And maybe he hadn't. But she had: it made sense.

Now, sitting there on the couch in Héctor’s new apartment—which she had helped organize over the last few days—she tried to pretend that everything was under control. A movie was playing on the TV, but her mind was wandering until she noticed his hand on her waist.

Again.

He didn't stop.

His fingers danced slowly around her, as if testing her patience. She froze. She pretended it was nothing. But then his hand came down. It caressed her thigh calmly, in soft, almost innocent circles. Héctor looked at her sideways, his eyes lit up, that mischievous smile on the corners of his lips.

“You’re not even watching the movie,” she whispered, not daring to look at him.

“I see something much better.”

She couldn't help it. She turned around, impulsively, and kissed him.

It was quick. Hot. Full of urgency and shame.

And she pulled back as if shocked, her eyes wide, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Oh my God, I… I don’t know why I did that,” he muttered, standing up, looking for an escape route. “I’m sorry, that was horrible, I…”

But she didn't finish.

He pulled her back firmly, making her fall into his lap. Héctor’s gaze was different now—intense, with no room for playfulness. His hands cupped her face gently, and he kissed her as if it were the last thing he would ever do.

Hot. Deep. Decisive.

When his lips pulled away from hers, Héctor whispered, his breathing still rapid:

“I’m in love with you. I have been for months. I just haven’t told you because you always pretend you don’t see it.”

She blinked, confused.

“I…”

“Do you think I walk around shirtless out of habit?” He chuckled lightly, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I keep waiting for some reaction from you. Anything. And every time you look away, I think: She sees me. She feels it too.”

She looked down, biting her lip. She wanted to dig a hole. Or maybe not. Maybe she just wanted to stay there.

“I thought… that you were just being you.”

“I was being someone in love. And very stupid, because I preferred to provoke rather than confess.”

She smiled, shyly, still awkward, but her eyes were shining.

"And now?"

“Now you’ll stop running away from me. And you’ll let me kiss you whenever I want.”

She shook her head, laughing softly, and replied before kissing him again:

“We can try… if you promise to stop leaving the bathroom in just a towel.”

“No promises,” he whispered against her lips. “Especially if I know you like it.”

And she liked it. God, how she liked it.

Taglist: @paucubarsisimp @nngkay @meganesanchez @htpssgavi @merinottt @luvvpedri @moonvr @joaosnovia @httpsdana @ilovebarcaaaa @p4uul0vr @pedricando @barcapix @owala6789

[pitchsidestories]

the favourite II Aitana Bonmatí x Reader

masterlist I word count: 2349

a/n: hi everyone, this oneshot is a longer one, so get cozy. <3

The golden hour has just begun in the beautiful city of Barcelona, you were finally done with correcting your student’s paper, so you were able to continue reading the book on the sofa, which was the perfect way to clock off of work in your opinion.

The happy mood slightly shifted when you thought back to the phone call you had with your girlfriend earlier that day. Aitana told you she was injured and that she was coming back home this evening.

You felt guilty, because partly you were happy about the fact that your lover was about to return to you, this year has been a lot for her work wise, and you rarely got time to spend together as a couple, apart from you trying to be there in the stands at every home game or final. It didn’t surprise you that the midfielder’s body was exhausted from all of this.

On the other hand, Aitana loved playing football so much, so it would be hard to not see her doing what she was so passionate about. You realized reading at this point was impossible, there were too many thoughts running through your mind.

“Hola, mi amor.”, you greeted her warmly, as you heard her opening the front door.

“Hola.”, the football player replied in a cheerful tone which tried to hide the disappointment the brunette felt.

Immediately you jumped off the sofa to give her a much-needed hug. “How are you? I know you had to leave national team camp early.”

“It’s nothing too bad, don’t worry.”, Aitana reassured you with a weak smile on her lips.

“But I do worry a little.”, you admitted concerned while running a hand through your girlfriends open hair, something you knew she liked, because it had a soothing effect on her.

You caught her looking at the papers which were still laying on your kitchen table, so you added quickly:” Sorry, I’ll take those to my office.”

“No, it’s fine. Stay, you’re busy.”, the midfielder slowly shook her head.

“I’m actually done with going through them. My students wrote about their role models, and I spotted some familiar names quite a few times.”, you remembered, smiling fondly at the memory.

“Oh really? Like whose names?”, Aitana looked up curiously.

“Like Patri, Alexia, Salma, but you’ve been mentioned the most. Wait-”, you counted them off on your fingers. You proudly showed your girlfriend the texts which were about her.

“I didn’t know your students cared so much about football, specifically women’s football.”, the midfielder muttered amazed, while devouring the handwritten pages.

“I know, the view definitely changed in recent years… Remember when we were at school and no one seemed to care about women’s football?”, you asked, thinking back to the time when you and Aitana met for the first time. You were best friends in school, always stuck together. Until things changed in your teenage years.

Unhappily, your girlfriend put the papers back on the table: “They always said that we can’t play with the boys.”

“Or that we would never be as good as them.“, you added. “Which I was okay with because I always preferred books over balls, but I admired you for not listening to these voices.”

You had loved a good football match when you were younger, but you never had the same burning desire to play that Aitana possessed.

“That’s all I ever wanted to do, kick a ball around.”, Aitana shrugged and even though a lot had changed since your school days, you felt reminded of the younger Aitana. The quiet girl that defiantly fought for her right to play football.

You smiled softly: “I know, and it got you very far.”

“I never knew it would.”, Aitana replied, clearly lost in her own thoughts about her career.

“But it did.” You took a deep breath. The idea that had been floating around your head since you read the papers started to take form on the tip of your tongue. “Could you do me a favour?”

“Sure, which one?”, your girlfriend answered quickly.

“Maybe you could visit my class to talk a bit about your life as a football player? It would mean the world to them. You’re clearly one of their favorites.” You nodded in the direction of the pages piled on the table.

Aitana did not answer. She stared at you speechlessly until she found her voice a second later: “Your students want to see… me?”

She looked so surprised that you had to bite back a laugh. “Yes, they would love that.”

Aitana beamed: “Sure. Of course I’m coming.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

You leaned over for a quick kiss: “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s a pleasure.”

“But for now…”

Your girlfriend raised her eyebrows in expectancy: “Yes?”

“Cuddles?”, you asked innocently, ready to wrap your arms around her.

“Please.”, she smiled. You threw yourself against her body, tightly hugging her.

Laughing, Aitana let herself fall backwards against the armrest of the sofa so you could lay on top of her.

She started to run her fingers across your back: “This is nice.”

Your girlfriend paused for a moment, before adding with a smirk on her lips:” But not as comfortable as in our bed.”

“You’re right let’s go to our bedroom.”, you agreed as you helped her getting into a standing position.

“Coming.”, Aitana answered. With a soft sigh the midfielder landed on your double bed.

“This is so much better.”, she declared, eyes closed. The bedding felt pleasantly cool underneath her body while you laid down next to her.  

“Perfect.”, you mumbled. Grinning you continued:” Do you want me to read out to you a little?”

“Sure.”, the football player nodded, there was nothing in the world she found more soothing than listening to your voice.

“Okay.”, you happily obliged to it. After a couple of pages, you realized that your girlfriend was becoming sleepy. Quietly you put your book on the nightstand.

“Sleep well, Tana.”

“Night.”, Aitana whispered before inevitably sleep took it’s hold over her.

In the mornings you were always the first of you two to get up, as you needed to be ready for school. Much to your own surprise you realized that the midfielder was awake too:” Good morning.”

“Morning, amor.”, she replied, before placing a sweet kiss to your mouth.

“You know that you can still stay in bed, right?”, you muttered blushing. After all those years the brunette still had that effect on you.

“I know, but I couldn’t sleep anymore.”, Aitana admitted smiling sheepishly.

“I guess I’ll make two cups of coffees this morning.”, you remarked.

“Please.”, your girlfriend responded. When the dark-haired woman was holding the warm drink in her hand, she thanked you with another kiss.

“You’re welcome.”, you replied, enjoying one of the rare mornings you both had together.

You wished you could enjoy that moment for a little bit longer but looking at the clock on the wall you cursed under your breath:” Oh shit, I need to go!”

“Have fun. I’ll see you later.”, Aitana winked at you.

“Bye.”, you blew her a kiss, before making your way out of your home, ready for another day with your classes which were all dear to your heart.

The day arrived when Aitana was about to meet them for a lesson, you beamed excited at her:” Ready, love?”

“Ready.”, she nodded, your girlfriend was glad to have some distraction from her injury for at least the upcoming two hours. For a second you pressed her hand encouragingly, before leading her into the classroom.

“Good morning, everyone. Today we’ve a very special guest.”, you announced cheerfully.

A young girl with blonde hair called Imma sat in the front row and gasped audibly: “Oh my god, Aitana!“

She stared at the football player with widened eyes.

Your girlfriend smiled politely before introducing herself: “Hi, I’m Aitana Bonmatí. I’m a football player for FC Barcelona.“

“Can we ask her some questions?“, Jordi asked curiously. You knew that the lanky boy had vast interest in all kinds of football, no matter if the players were male or female.

You nodded, watching as his eyes sparkled in excitement: “Sure, that’s why she came.“

“Go ahead.“, Aitana prompted, trying to get the children to ask questions.

Imma raised her hand hesitantly: “From where do you know, Miss y/l/n?“

Your girlfriends gaze subconsciously drifted into your direction. You shared a smile for a split second.

With an eye-roll, Jordi complained: “That’s such a boring question, Imma!“

“I think that’s a very good question. We went to school together years ago.“, Aitana answered the question truthfully.

Jordi snorted: “Was she reading books back then too?“

You had to stop yourself from telling him, once again that reading was not only good for them but also a lot of fun. You tried to encourage your class to read every chance they got.

Before you could say anything, Aitana grinned: “Oh yes. She always loved books.“

“But I can play a bit too.“, you added innocently.

“Yeah. She’s pretty good.“, your girlfriend had to agree.

For once, Jordi was silent, looking from you to Aitana and back. A challenging smile appeared on his face: “We need to see that after class. But how did it feel to win the Ballon d’Or?“

“Amazing. It was a great honour but I couldn’t have done it without my team.“

“And you also won the Champions League!“, a red-haired girl interrupted with a big toothy grin.

“Yes, that was amazing too.“, the football player nodded.

Julias cheeks turned almost as red as her hair from exhilaration: “So cool!“

“I’m lucky to have such a great team around me.“, you heard Aitana say and you almost grimaced at how humble she was in front of your students.

Julia immediately followed with the next question, not allowing your girlfriend a break: “Do you have a favourite teammate? And is it Rolfö?“

Aitana laughed, surprised by the question: “I have a lot of favourite teammates. And Frido is one of them. She’s great, very sweet.“

“Like a team mum?“, Imma piped up.

“A bit, yes.“

“That’s cute.“, Imma commented happily.

“But we have a lot of people who can step up as team mums.“, the midfielder continued.

“Aitana, how’s your injury?”, Jordi changed the subject to a more serious one.

“It’s not too bad. They just wanted to be careful, so it doesn’t get worse.”, the midfielder waved it off in a reassuring way.

“Oh, good.”, he sighed relieved.

 “So now I’m here and can hang out with you guys.”, Aitana clapped enthusiastically her hands.

“Exactly.”, you smiled proudly at her.  

“Sorry, did you want to continue, amor?”, your girlfriend looked at you expectantly.

“No, I just wanted to say that the class is ending soon.”, you shook your head.

“Any more questions?”, the football player turned her attention to your students again.

“Can we play now?”, Jordi asked her innocently.

“Of course. Let’s go and play some football.”, Aitana agreed, her eyes mirroring the excitement of the little boy who was very thrilled to play with a Barcelona player.

On her way out, she couldn’t help but to tease you in front of the children:” Let’s see how good your teacher still is.”

“I’ll show you!”, you laughed.

“Prove it.”, the midfielder gave you a playful challenging look.

One of your students was handing you the football, so you did one of the football tricks you still knew before kicking it into the empty goal, making the boys and girls erupt into a loud cheer.

“See? She didn’t forget anything.”, Aitana said, her voice full of admiration.

“Wow.”, Jordi followed your moves with the football amazed.

“Not, bad, right?”, Aitana questioned him amused.

“Not as good as you are though.”, you whispered into her ear.

“Oh, if you got paid to play football all day, you’d also be good.”, she stated firmly.

“Yes, but I love my job, just look at their eyes.”, you replied, your girlfriend did what you asked her to do. The girls and boys faces lit up while playing football in front of one of their idols.

Afterwards she looked back at you in adoration: “I only must look in your eyes. You were made to work with children. They adore you.”

You weren’t even a big Taylor Swift fan, but your friends and the older students were and there was a line in one of her songs, which you quietly sung to her, before you looped the ball over the midfielder:” You know how to ball, I know Aristotle.”

“Excuse me?! What was that?!”, Aitana’s mouth fell wide open.

“I don’t know how I did it either!”, you confessed.

“That was impressive as hell!”, Jordi told you.

With sparkling eyes, Imma demanded: “Do it again!“

“Yes, do it again.“, Aitana smirked.

“Like this?“, you asked before trying to play the ball over the worlds best female footballer again. This time, you were less lucky and the ball came at the perfect height for Aitana to easily head it back to you.

“Oh no, it didn’t work.“ Julia sounded slightly disappointed.

You shrugged, trying to use the opportunity to teach your students a valuable lesson: “The good thing is, one can always try again.“

Aitana instead winked at them: “Don’t worry, I’ll teach her at home.“

Imma frowned in confusion: “At home? Do you two live together?“

“Are you stupid? She called her amor earlier!“, Jordi groaned.

The smaller girls eyes widened: “She did?“

“Yes!“

Aitana smiled at you, subtly linking your pinkies together: “She’s my best friend but also my girlfriend.“

“Oh.“ Julia made a delighted sound.

Jordi rolled his eyes: “They love each other, it’s so obvious, girls.“

And then he was back to kicking the ball around. Julia and Imma quickly chased after him, trying to get the ball.

You and your girlfriend stood in comfortable silence, still holding hands and watching the children run around you.

In this moment you were hit with the realization that this was exactly all you ever wanted from life.

[devixncy]

Can I request a Thanos x reader AU where the X voters actually win and they leave early? But the main problem is that the reader was on the games to pay off debt so she can leave her shitty parter/fiancée/spouse but now she can’t because the money wasn’t enough to pay it all off. Fortunately, Thanos and the reader grew close during the games and he knew her reason for being there, and also knew the money wouldn’t be enough. So basically post games, he runs into her and they reconnect and he absolutely beats the shit out of the reader’s awful partner (because in Thanos’s mind, anyone who hurts the reader deserves hell)

If you couldn’t tell, I’m a sucker for protective Thanos who won’t hesitate to (literally) kill a bitch haha

a/n: anon i'm sorry this took me so long, i rewrote this 6 times. SIX. (i am never satisfied with my own work LOL)

✧ pairing: choi su-bong (thanos) x reader

✧ word count: 6.1k (i'm sorry.)

✧ content: fem!reader, swearing, mentions of abuse!!, mention of drugs, violence, ooc thanos/su-bong yet again (oops), au where X voters win, partner is gn bc it wasn't specified but also realized that thanos beats they ass so...

The first day was the hardest. The sterile feel of the dormitory, the looming silence, and the constant threat of death. Nothing could prepare you for the weight of it, the brutality of it all, how you were just merely a pawn in a sick game.

You had stood lined up with the others—strangers, all of you forced into a game of life or death. None of you could fathom what was to come. The sounds of the red light/green light game still echoed in your mind, the screams, the metallic scent of blood, the bodies falling one by one.

But there was one person you noticed, even in the chaos. The purple haired rapper that you had heard the other players talking about, Thanos. He wasn’t like the others—no frantic desperation in his eyes. You had seen him after player 196 was shot in front of him. How quickly his demeanor changed once he took a pill out of his necklace; how quick he was to put others lives at stake. He breezed through the game, like it was something fun instead of something twisted and terrifying. 

You had no intention of ever speaking to him–or anyone else for that matter, unless the games required it. You felt as though you couldn’t trust anyone. There was already a divide, the vote evenly splitting the remaining players. Unfortunately, you voted to stay. It wasn’t like you wanted to, no. There was not a drop of greed in your body unlike most of the players that voted the same as you. You were drowning in debt, obviously–but it was more than that. It was debt that wasn’t your fault, but was the fault of your shitty excuse of a partner. You needed that prize money to escape from them as well, get away from the awful card you’d been dealt. 

You found yourself sitting alone in the dormitory after the vote, exhausted and anxious. Your mind raced—how would you survive this? Your previous determination was slipping away, overtaken by thoughts of self-doubt. Even if you did escape with enough money, how would you hide it from your partner? If the games disbanded early and the X voters won, would it even be enough? And what if it wasn’t?

“You’re thinking too hard, señorita,” a low voice rumbled from behind you. 

You stiffened, jolted out of your thoughts. Turning, you were startled to find Thanos standing there, his frame casting a shadow over you. He looked at you with an expression that was unreadable, his pupils blown wide. 

“You know, thinking like that can get you killed.” he said, lowering himself onto the stairs next to you. He didn’t ask for permission, didn’t even wait for an answer. You weren’t sure what gave him the confidence, but you could only assume it was the drugs still running through his veins. 

You scoffed, looking straight ahead. “And what would you know? You’re clearly not thinking about much of anything but yourself right now.”

He barked out a laugh, making finger guns and pretending to shoot them. “That’s how you play the game, flower. Only focusing on yourself means you’ll live.”

“Okay, is there a reason you came over here? Can I help you with something?” You asked with an eye roll, not quite sure what he wanted from you. 

“Tell you what. You stick with me, and I can keep you safe. Come join the Thanos world,” He said with a hand movement, and you turned your head to stare at him with a questioning look.

“Didn’t you just say-”

He cut you off. “Forget what I said. I don’t even remember what I said,” He responded with a stupid grin, his high still in full effect. “Look,” he said as he pointed to the blue O patch on your chest. “We’re basically already on the same team anyway. Don’t you think it would make sense?” You pursed your lips as he blabbered on.

“We’re here for very different reasons.” you murmured, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“Clearly not,” he snorted, his arrogance on full display. “But if you say so, señorita. If you change your mind, you know where to find me.” With a wink, he stood up and skipped off, presumably to go harass others with player 124. 

You shook your head to yourself. Why would you ever need him? 

—

The next day, during the second game, you were ashamed to have to walk up to Thanos. You felt like a dog with its tail between its legs, dragging your feet. In all fairness, you didn’t think you would need to team up so soon. And unfortunately–Thanos was the only player you had spoken to so far.

As you approached, he immediately noticed you. Turning his attention towards you, he grinned. 

“Señorita! Did you change your mind? Couldn’t resist the charm of the legend Thanos?” He gestured to himself. You internally gagged, wanting to turn around and walk away right then and there. 

“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this because I have to.” You grumbled, while he and player 124 snickered.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. C’mon, you won’t regret it.” He threw an arm around your shoulder, and you shrugged it off. You ended up sitting with your group that was made up of Thanos, Nam-gyu, Min-su and Se-mi. 

You began to open up a little as you sat and waited for your group's turn, conversation about nothing important flowing easily (more so with the sober ones of the group). Either way, it was a welcome distraction from the gunfire and bloodshed happening around you as entire groups were gunned down. Your tense posture and slight flinching at the sounds didn’t go unnoticed by Thanos. As soon as he noticed, he put a hand on your shoulder.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl. I said I’d keep you safe, didn’t I?” He asked with a laugh, however, you caught something genuine in the tone of his voice. You looked at him and his large pupils, and as you did some of the tension released from your body. Maybe he really did mean it. 

Thankfully, your group had breezed through the six legged pentathlon. You were terrified–and being chained directly to Thanos didn’t help, considering how reckless he was. To your surprise, however, his presence was comforting. He cheered you on during your turn, giving you the confidence you needed to help advance your team. 

Then came the next vote. You voted to stay yet again, as difficult as it was. The prize money still wasn’t enough to justify switching your vote. Thanos made himself the center of the chaos as per usual, egging on the O voters and only helping to increase the tension between both sides. It was almost unbearable to watch. 

Meal time was next, and it wasn’t nearly enough to satisfy your hunger. You’d been behind Thanos in line, watching as he threw his arms up in exasperation as he saw what they were offering. Once you stepped forward, you figured out why. It was a lousy piece of bread and a carton of milk. You accepted the food with a sigh, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’ to the guards and turning on your heel. You walked past Thanos and the rest of your group, hearing him call out to you with one of his dumb pet names. Ignoring it, you went and sat by yourself to have some peace and quiet, wanting to be alone with your thoughts. 

Unfortunately, the universe did not have your back because minutes later, you felt a presence sit down next to you. You could see the flash of purple in your peripheral vision, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Can I help you, Thanos?” You questioned, taking a bite out of your bread. He was tapping his foot in an aggravating fashion, causing you to shoot your arm out and grab his leg. “Please stop doing that.”

“Ooo, I didn’t think we were moving that fast, señorita,” he wiggled his eyebrows. “I don’t mind, don’t worry. In fact, we could-”

You immediately put your finger up to his lips to stop him from talking. “You do not want to finish that sentence. I am not in the mood.” 

“Of course you’re not. Do you hate jokes and having fun?” he let out an exaggerated sigh, gulping down his milk. You didn’t respond, taking another bite of your food. 

“I’m kidding, relax,” He said as he noticed your silence. “Anyway, question for ya.” You didn’t respond, but motioned for him to continue. “Haven’t gotten a name from you yet. I can only come up with so many nicknames, you know?”

“That wasn’t a question,” you stated matter of factly. 

“Tch. Okay smartass.” He said, and you couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across your face. His eyes lit up at the sight, and you could tell he was about to make some dumb comment. 

“It’s (Y/N).” You said before anything could leave his mouth. He was silent for a moment. 

“Hm,” he hummed, looking right at you. “Beautiful name for a beautiful girl.” His voice was filled with nothing but sincerity, causing you to look at him with burning cheeks. “Aww, she’s blushing!” 

And he effectively ruined the moment. “Do you do this to every girl you meet?” You tilted your head questioningly. 

“No. Only the pretty ones.” He snickered, and this time you genuinely couldn’t tell if he was kidding or not. You huffed, finally finishing your meal. Taking notice of the fact that Thanos somehow hadn’t yet, you raised an eyebrow. You watched as he broke a piece of his bread off, holding it out to you and gesturing for you to take it. Vehemently, you shook your head. “Come on, (Y/N),” he tested your name, waving the food in front of your face. “You need it more than I do.”

“Uh, no actually. You shouldn’t be high on an empty stomach, you eat it. I’m not taking your share.” You stated, genuinely not wanting to take it. They barely fed you all as it was, not nearly enough to be sustainable. He shrugged, popping it into his mouth with no hesitation. 

“If you say so.” He mumbled with his mouth full, causing you to scrunch your nose. 

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, your bond with the egotistical rapper was quickly growing. Never in a million years did you think he of all people would be the person you’d become the closest with. To be honest, it wasn’t like you really had a choice. He didn’t leave you alone. But you were starting to look forward to his presence—it was the only form of comfort and familiarity you had in this place. 

That same night, you sat in your bunk with your knees pulled up to your chest after lights out. The faint glow of the piggy bank was the only thing illuminating the dark room. It allowed your eyes to wander around without being too obvious, although most players were long asleep. You, however, were wide awake. That would only be prolonged when a certain someone decided to come invade your personal space. 

You almost didn’t register how your mattress dipped below the weight of another person, your unfocused gaze and scrambled thoughts making you oblivious. Your head shot up, and your body quickly relaxed once you recognized the figure on the end of your bunk. 

“Relax,” Thanos whispered as if you weren’t surrounded by people who could easily take you out. “Just me again.”

“Shouldn’t you be asleep? Thought the pills would have knocked you out.” You cringed as the words left your mouth, not even trying to come off as rude. He chose to ignore it, though. 

“Could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be asleep?” He asked as you shrugged. 

“Can’t sleep.” You said simply, looking at him in the golden glow of the pig. 

“I noticed. That’s why I came over here,” he said as he made himself comfortable on your bunk, sitting with his legs crossed. You mirrored his movements as sitting with your knees up was becoming slightly uncomfortable. 

The two of you sat and conversed for longer than you expected. You knew it wasn’t ideal—both of you should be getting enough rest for the third game. He was very easy to talk to, you had to admit. 

“So, how did someone like you end up in a place like this, señorita?” He asked, and you had been dreading that question. You could easily lie and come up with something other than your situation, because in all honesty Thanos absolutely seemed like the gullible type. However, you had come to trust him in the short amount of time you’d known him and didn’t feel that it was necessary to lie. You fidgeted with the sleeves of your jacket, taking in a shaky breath.

“I’ve raked up a lot of debt. I know that goes for everybody here, obviously. But it wasn’t my fault,” You paused, your eyes averting to stare at the mattress. “My partner…after we started dating, they got me to move in with them. Everything was going well until then. After I moved in, they had me quit my job. Promised to “take care of me”, said I wouldn’t have to worry about working. Then they drained my account, took everything I worked for. Blew through it, left both of us with nothing,” You said as you rolled up your sleeves, showing off the fading and now yellow bruises that littered your arms. “This has been my life. Escape always felt impossible, until I was handed that card in the subway station,” You let out a humourless laugh, feeling tears sting the back of your eyes. “And that’s why I’ve been voting to stay. So I can pay off my debt, and get the hell out of there. But easier said than done, I suppose.”

Thanos was silent. The deafening silence that made you uneasy, and you almost regretted saying anything at all. You kept your eyes averted, honestly in disbelief that you had confided in him so easily. But then, you heard him slowly exhale. His hands reached over, rings brushing against your skin as he tugged your sleeves back down. His touch was gentle, hands steady—he wasn’t high. 

“Hey,” he said softly, his finger guiding your chin up so that you were looking at him. “Trust me when I say that we’re getting you out of here. And then you’re getting out of there. On my life, a hand will not be laid on you again.”

You looked at him in shock. His expression was something unreadable—but you could see the anger that lingered underneath. Never in a million years did you expect something so sincere to come out of his mouth, not from the least serious player in the games. It honestly left you feeling confused. Did he really care about you that much? You hadn’t even known each other long. 

“That’s the plan, I hope,” you said with a humorless laugh. Your stomach churned at the thought of failure, of not being able to leave. As Thanos opened his mouth to speak, you held your hand up to stop him. Talking about your situation only made the mood bleak, and you didn’t want to talk about it anymore. 

“What about you, Thanos? How’d you end up here?” You asked with a tilt of your head. He paused, dropping his hand from your chin. Thankfully, he recognized that you were redirecting the conversation. He chuckled as if the answer should be obvious.

“Blew all of my money on drugs, clubbing, clothes, shoes, you name it. Spent it on whatever I wanted. When I went through all of my money, I went to loan sharks. Started coming after me because I couldn’t pay it back. Simple as that, sweetheart,” He hesitated then, as if there were more to it. And there was. “The recruiter found me on a bridge. I was about to just end it all before he got there. So now here I am. Guess you could say he saved my life, in a way.”

Your lips parted in shock at his confession, not expecting vulnerability from him like that. “Oh wow, I’m so sorry Thanos-”

“Su-bong,” he interrupted, causing you to pause mid sentence. “My real name is Su-bong. Hearing you say Thanos just sounds strange.”

Slowly, you nodded. “If you say so, Su-bong.” You spoke unsurely, his name sounding foreign on your tongue. 

“That’s more like it,” he said with an encouraging grin. “I like the way my name sounds coming out of your mouth much more than Thanos.” He winked, causing your cheeks to burn. You smacked his leg and he laughed, causing a nearby player to tell him to “shut the fuck up”.

That night, Su-bong had fallen asleep on your bunk. Neither of you meant for it to happen, however exhaustion had hit both of you hard seemingly out of nowhere. He actually had fallen asleep mid conversation; you had asked him a question and got nothing but snoring as a response. You didn’t have the heart to wake him up and kick him off, so you let him sleep at the end of your bunk. Shortly after he passed out, you followed suit, curled up at the head of your bed. If you were being honest with yourself, it was the safest you’d felt in a while. 

When you awoke the next morning, Su-bong was already up and gone. You did take notice of the blanket covering your body that wasn’t there when you had fallen asleep, though. The gesture was sweet, something you weren’t used to. It warmed your heart, but guilt started to creep in at the same time–even though it shouldn’t. 

“The third game will begin momentarily. All players, please get out of bed and get ready.” 

You sighed, swinging your legs over the side of your bunk and standing up along with all of the other players. Making your way into the center of the room and into the crowd, you immediately made your way towards the easily recognizable mess of purple hair. He was standing with Nam-gyu, surely doing something stupid, and as you got closer you could instantly recognize that they were high. Your smile faltered slightly, but you shook it off as you approached. If he needed it to get through the games, so be it. 

Su-bong noticed you immediately, a grin adorning his face. “Señorita! There you are!” 

You chuckled, falling into step with him as you headed towards the stairs to the game arena. “Good to see you too, Su-bong.” As his name left your mouth, Nam-gyu immediately threw a questioning look towards him. Su-bong noticed and threw his hand up, accidentally smacking Nam-gyu in the face with it. He slung his other arm around your shoulder, pulling you in closer. You weren’t entirely sure if it was affection or for his own benefit, considering his noticeably unsteady steps.

During the game–which ended up being mingle–had to be the most terrified you’d felt in your time there. This was a game where desperation reared its head, players shoving and ripping each other away to ensure their spot in a room. The entire time, much to your relief, Su-bong stuck with you. Your wrist was constantly in his grip so that he didn’t lose you. He almost had, during the final round. He chose you over Nam-gyu, dragging you towards a room with a speed you didn’t know was possible. Someone had grabbed the back of your tracksuit jacket before you got in the room, trying to rip you away from safety. Su-bong was extremely quick to react, even while high, and ripped the other player away from you with a strength you didn’t know he had. Besides that minor incident, the game had gone as good as it could’ve–although your tremors had yet to slow down. 

Upon heading back to the dormitory, you nervously waited for the vote to be cast yet again. Your hands shook, still slightly shaken up. Su-bong stayed by your side, his arm brushing against yours. There were only 100 players left, and the prize money was at 356,000,000 won. It was almost enough. Almost.

You placed your vote, yet again voting to stay. You stood on the O side, arms crossed across your chest. Watching as Su-bong skipped up to the booth and smashed his lips onto the O button, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He scampered over to you immediately, then changed direction and pushed his way towards the back. You paid no mind, feeling too much anxiety about the vote to pay attention. However, you could faintly hear him and Nam-gyu starting to harass Min-su into voting to play another game. To their dismay, he didn’t. Nam-gyu, who voted after him, was noticeably unhappy. You weren’t thrilled either at the thought of losing a vote, but you couldn’t blame him. 

Down to the final vote, you held your breath. The vote was currently tied. Deep down, part of you knew that this was it and you weren’t winning this. Accepting it was a different story. As player 001 walked up to the booth, your hands clenched into fists. Su-bong, who was next to you, took notice and grabbed one of your hands. He ran his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Don’t worry, señorita. We’re going to win this vote.” He said it with too much confidence. Time stood still as player 001 made it to the booth, pausing before he made his decision. The red X button illuminated, changing the vote from a tie. Immediately, cheers erupted from the X voters. It was decided. 

The sound of the final vote echoed in your ears, muffled and distant, like you were trapped underwater. The games were over. You were going home.

Your chest tightened. Your breath hitched. No. No, no, no—

You could hear the other players on your side reacting around you. But their voices barely registered. The moment the vote was cast, your body locked up, panic surging through your veins. 

This was supposed to be your way out, the only way you’d be able to pay all of your debt and get your own place to leave your partner. Now, you weren’t sure what you would do. 

Your hands curled into fists, nails biting into your palms as you stared blankly ahead. You had spent the past few days convincing yourself that you just had to survive. Just win. Just hold on long enough, and then you’d be free. Free from the debt. Free from the hands that grabbed too tightly, from the voice that spat venom at you whenever you spoke out of turn.

But you weren’t free. You were going back to them.

Your breathing grew shallow. Your vision blurred at the edges. The world felt too small, suffocating you as the reality of your situation settled in. You knew you were perhaps being irrational, not thinking clearly—but it was hard not to. 

A firm grip on your wrist yanked you back to the present. You flinched, expecting the worst, but when you looked up, it wasn’t them. It was Su-bong.

His grip was solid, grounding. “Breathe,” he murmured. 

You shook your head wildly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I-it’s not enough money, Su-bong. What am I supposed to do?” 

Something dark flickered in his gaze. His jaw tightened, and his fingers flexed around your wrist before slowly releasing you. 

“Don’t worry. I’m going to come find you, no matter what it takes.” He promised, but in the moment it felt empty. You couldn’t even respond, your thoughts racing as the dormitory became chaotic. The guards were saying something but you couldn’t even listen.

Suddenly, you could hear a hissing sound. Smoke began to spill out of all of the vents, quickly filling the dormitory. You brought your hands up and gripped Su-bong’s wrists, everything becoming hazy. The last thing you saw was his face, and the last thing you heard was his voice.

“You hear me? I will find my way to you.” Then everything went dark. 

—-

As you expected, life outside of the games hadn’t gotten any better. The games had been disbanded for almost a month now, and nothing had changed. You were miserable, still burdened by your remaining debt and toxic partner. 

They hadn’t let go of the fact that you had disappeared without a trace for three days, only to show up again in the dead of night. It was dangled above your head, used as a way to manipulate and guilt trip you. You felt lost, hopeless even.

Your mind was still plagued by Su-bong. You wondered how he was faring after being granted freedom. His promise to find you hadn’t come to fruition yet, but you still clung to it–it was the only thing keeping you going. But until then, you lived your life in misery.

You had convinced your partner to let you pick up a part time job at a local convenience store. It had taken a lot of convincing, because they were sure you were going to disappear again. But you pressed, telling them it was just to get some extra money, promising to get them whatever they wanted with it. In reality, you didn’t care about that. You wanted an escape, to be able to go somewhere where you weren’t constantly scrutinized. And thankfully, it worked. 

Late night shifts were your favorite. It was the only sliver of peace you had–where the streets were empty, where you could breathe, if only for a moment.

That’s where you were now, walking home from work, the cold biting at your skin. The chill didn’t bother you–in fact, it seemed to keep you grounded, stopping you from getting into your own head. The silence was welcome, nobody around to bother you. But that’s when you felt it.

A presence. 

It was subtle at first, something you could easily shrug off. Then, you heard footsteps. Directly behind you. 

Your breath caught, heart racing. You had to keep moving. Ducking into the nearest alley, you turned the corner almost too fast, nearly losing your footing. You didn’t dare to look back.  You weren’t sure who was behind you, but paranoia told you it was your partner. They had warned you. Told you they’d be watching. That if you ever even thought about running—

A hand closed around your wrist. You gasped, your fight or flight response kicking in. Before you could do anything, whether it be scream, fight or run–you were spun around.

Your mind took an extra second to catch up with your body, not registering who was in front of you. But when you caught a glimpse of purple hair, the chain around his neck, the ear piercing–your eyes widened. 

Su-bong.

The adrenaline left your body, your tense posture sagging with relief. You only stared at him, unable to form words, in disbelief that he was in front of you. But he spoke before you could. He lazily grinned at you, holding his arms out and gesturing to himself.

“I told you I’d find you.” He said, and hearing his voice set something off in your head. You wasted no time in throwing your arms around him. He reciprocated, his arms immediately snaking around you tightly. 

“Oh my god, you have no idea how happy I am to see you and hear your voice.” You admitted quietly, and he chuckled. After a moment he pulled back, holding your shoulders at arm's length. His eyes raked over your form, his smile slipping away as he took in your exhausted appearance. His smile disappeared further at the fact that you had tried to run, thinking he was someone more dangerous. 

“Did you think I was someone else?” He asked with a tilt of his head, and you swallowed hard. 

“Yeah..” you whispered, knowing there was no point in lying. He already knew your situation. 

He frowned, watching as you nervously played with the ends of your sleeves. Anger bubbled in his chest, easily interpreting what was going on. “You’re still there, aren’t you?” He murmured. Slowly, you nodded.

“...I’m still there, Su-bong,” you admitted, slightly ashamed. “I’m still not financially stable enough to get out and get my own place. Not with the debt I have, too.” You could feel his grip tighten at your words. Thankfully, he didn’t press, but his next words made you stiffen.

“Let me walk you home. That’s where you were going, right?” 

“Yes,” you said, hesitating as you chose your next words. “You can walk me home. But that’s it.” You warned, knowing he had some kind of underlying intention. He nodded, the grin returning to his face. 

“That’s all I need, señorita,” he slung an arm around your shoulder. “Such a pretty flower shouldn’t have to walk home by herself in the dark, anyway.” He began to walk, pulling you along with him. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but smiled–that was such a Thanos thing to say. 

Your walk back to your apartment was peaceful. But as soon as you reached the building, the atmosphere shifted. You turned to Thanos, and he looked down at you. You offered a small smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

“Thank you,” you murmured, and he nodded. He took his phone out of his back pocket, pulling up a new contact before handing the device to you. 

“Put your number in. Please,” He said as you took his phone from him. You typed your number in, and then to lighten the mood, you set your contact name as Player 243. Handing it back, you watched him shake his head. “You’re something else.”

“I try,” you said with a laugh. Then, you took a step back from him, signaling you were about to make your way to your apartment. “Goodbye, Su-bong.” You said, a warning edge to your voice. He grabbed your hand before you could get too far, lifting it up and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Your heart skipped a beat, face heating up. 

“See you later, (Y/N).” He said, letting go of your hand. He gestured for you to ascend the stairs, and you did. You didn’t disappear until you made sure he turned his back to leave the complex.

Sighing in relief, you slowly made your way to your door. It wasn’t like you actually wanted him to leave–you just didn’t want more unnecessary problems. You wanted to be smart about this. Pulling out your keys, you fiddled to find the correct one. As you moved to put it in the lock, you paused. 

“Su-bong,” you whispered, your eye twitching. “What did I tell you?” Looking over your shoulder, you shot him a glare.

He had his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around and avoiding your gaze like he had no clue what you were talking about. You had to give it to him, though, he seemed to materialize out of thin air. For someone who was typically so loud, he knew how to move silently when he wanted to. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he said as he finally met your eyes. His expression softened. “Come on. Did you really think I was gonna let you go in here alone? Especially with the way you acted earlier?”

You only rolled your eyes. “What exactly is your plan here?” You asked while pushing the door open slightly, signaling for him to be quiet. Unfortunately, the universe hated you. 

“Maybe beat some ass–I mean talk some sense–into someone.” Su-bong responded nonchalantly. But his voice was a little too loud. 

“Who the fuck is at the door?” A voice slurred from inside, causing your stomach to drop. You were so screwed. 

You barely had time to react before Thanos reached forward, pushing the door open wider with one hand.

Your partner stumbled out into the entryway, rubbing their eyes, blinking at the unfamiliar figure now standing in their doorway. Confusion twisted into irritation. Then into anger.

“Who the hell are you?” 

Su-bong didn’t answer. He just stared, gaze cold and unreadable. It was like a switch flipped, his chill demeanor disappearing in an instant. 

Your partner sneered, stepping closer to you. "You screwing around on me, huh? That what this is?" They turned their glare on you, their lip curling. “You brought him here, didn’t you? You really think some asshole off the street can save you—”

A loud crack echoed through the apartment. It happened so fast, you barely registered it. 

Su-bong’s fist connected with your partner’s jaw, sending them sprawling backward. They hit the floor with a thud, groaning.

It was like something took over him, rage consuming his whole body. Before your partner could recover, Su-bong was on top of him. 

“You fucked up. You think you’re tough, treating a defenseless girl like that?” Su-bong spoke calmly–but there was a dangerous edge to his voice. It was a warning. 

Your partner sneered, rolling their eyes. “I don’t know who you think you are, man. But stay the fuck out of it.” They tried to shove him off. Before you could even blink, Su-bong struck again. His fist connected with their face–a hit that knocked the arrogance straight out of them. He channeled his blinding anger into every hit laid into your partner. His fists quickly became bloodied. Each hit was filled with fury; he wasn’t just fighting, he was punishing. 

“You like keeping her scared, don’t you?” Su-bong snarled between punches, eyes dark. “Makes you feel powerful. Makes you feel big.” He let out a humorless laugh. “Pathetic.”

You watched with a hand over your mouth, torn between horror, relief and some dark sense of satisfaction. No one had ever stood up for you like this. But as you watched, you realized he had no intention of stopping–you had to intervene before he literally killed them. 

“Su-bong,” Your voice was quiet, but he heard you loud and clear as he paused. “Please.” You whispered, a plea to stop only because you were worried about him. You didn’t want this to get him in trouble. He exhaled slowly, but wasn’t done yet. He grabbed your partner’s collar, bringing their bloodied face closer to his.

In a low, chilling tone, he delivered an ultimatum. “If you ever come near her again, I promise that I will finish what I started. Are we clear?” They nodded frantically, and he slammed them back to the floor. Su-bong got to his feet, finally turning towards you. His eyes softened upon landing on your shocked form. “C’mon,” He started casually, wiping his hands on his pants. “Let’s go get your stuff and get out of here.” You nodded, trying to will your legs to move. 

After the events that had transpired, you ended up in Su-bong’s apartment. You brought as many of your belongings with you as you could, with the promise that you could stay with him for as long as necessary. While he helped you get settled into his guest room, you tried to come up with the right words. You hadn’t spoken about what had just happened, how he almost just killed for you. You stopped what you were doing, watching him for a moment. He sat on the bed, his long legs dangling off the edge. 

“Hey,” You called out, and he stopped whatever he was doing to look at you. “I never thanked you,” you said softly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it out of there without you.” 

He reached out and grabbed your arms, pulling you towards him so that you were standing between his legs. “You don’t have to thank me,” He murmured, cupping your face with his hands. “I was just doing the right thing. I would’ve never let you walk in there alone, you know that. You never deserved that. I just want to make sure you’re happy.” 

And you smiled, the first genuine smile you’d shown in weeks. He grinned, running his thumb across your cheek. “That smile looks good on you, señorita,” He whispered, standing up and placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your cheeks burned, not used to being complimented after being degraded for so long. “You should get some rest, flower. If you need anything you know where to find me.” You nodded and he left the room, giving you some space. You sat down on the bed and smiled to yourself.

Your heart was full; for the first time in a very long time, you finally felt completely safe. You knew you weren’t alone anymore.