#and hes using his cute childish voice…

[merlyn-red-0]

bought a conan nui a few months ago and have been wanting to draw him bcs hes just the most adorable ever!!!💙

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Damian is de-aged to a baby and lost in Gotham. A magic user hit him with some kind of spell. His legs don’t work as well and he has trouble walking. That’s when a man appears and squats down with a tilt of his head.

“Yea, you are definitely not supposed to be out here, little guy.”

Damian glares at the man, early twenties, stubble along his jaw, ragged clothes, and dark bags under his eyes.

The man turns his head to look at the brick wall.

“Are you sure?”

And now he was talking to a wall. Curses. Of course he would be found by a crazy person.

The man suddenly hangs his head with a deep sigh. He regains himself quickly and stands. Moving closer to put his hands under Damian arms to lift him to perch on his hip.

Damian squirms to get down but refuses to make a sound. The last time he opened his mouth like this it was a pathetic baby sound. He couldn’t let this man see him like this.

“Looks like you’re coming home with me, little guy. I can tell you’ve got some spirit in you. Good, you’ll need it.”

Not ominous at all.

Damian stays with the man, mostly because he couldn’t physically drive a car, but also because he was almost always with him. The man would talk to air at the most random times. Obviously a schizophrenic. But Damian had to admit this man, Danny he comes to find out through a neighbor baby talking at him, has been genuinely trying to take care of him and take care of him well. Well, to the best of his abilities anyway. 

He feeds him organic purées that don’t taste half bad, except the carrots, that one was unacceptable. Danny cleans him regularly despite his crappy apartment and makes sure he is dressed appropriately for the weather. He makes an effort to take him out to the park to play in the sandbox or just walk around discovering ‘new’ things.

Damian doesn’t need a parent, he outgrew the concept when he was five and technically he already had one, but he could tell Danny would make an excellent father. Some mistakes can be overlooked compared to the effort he was putting in.

The only concerning thing was the talking to thin air. It took Damian an embarrassing amount of time to figure out the reason Danny was visiting all these random people and the graveyard. (Sometimes he will set Damian down to ‘play’ in the grass at the cemetery. It was quite odd.)

He was talking to ghosts. It wasn’t thin air or imaginary friends, no it was actually dead people. The reason Damian actually believes this is for two reasons.

One, Danny shows true results. Damian observes closely whenever they visit a ‘client’ and Danny always has accurate information despite never looking up or researching anything going in.

Two, he never calls himself a medium or psychic. He doesn’t boast about his ability to see ghosts. He does what he does to help the ghosts move on to the other side. Closure is what Danny always says. Closure for the family and the victim. In Gotham, there are a lot of victims.

Damian adjusts to his new life with Danny. It’s been five months and he’s getting used to being small and vulnerable. He’s allowed to be messy and whiny and childish. Danny never scolds him like Mother did. The man has never hit him or raised his voice at him and never expects anything from him. He encourages his progression to speak and walk, but doesn’t expect the best out of him.

It’s… nice. A good break if anything.

They are at the park when one of the bats spot him and pauses. Danny is blowing bubbles into the air and Damian tries to pop as many as he can. It’s a silly game with no clear rules, but Damian finds it entertaining nonetheless.

“Hi there! Is he yours?”

Dick Grayson wears a bright smile, but Damian can see the tightness around his eyes.

“Huh? Oh, yea, this is Damian,” Danny answers.

He had written it with the wooden blocks Danny had given him one week in. Danny took one look at the name on the ground, laughed loudly and ran with it.

“Do you mind if I say hi? He’s so cute.”

Danny looks puzzled by the request but ends up shrugging his shoulders, not seeing a problem with letting a stranger get close to Damian. (Damian knew Danny’s intense eyes were watching Dick’s every move. He was very protective like that.)

“Sure.”

Dick squats down to search Damian’s green eyes. Damian stares back just as intensely.

“Hey there, Damian. My name is Dick.”

Damian gives him a flat look at Dick’s terrible introduction.

“Grayson.”

Although with his little baby teeth not fully in it sounds more like ‘way-shah’.

Relief flashes across Dick’s face and he gives Damian a reassuring smile. It’s not as reassuring at he thinks it is. It promises to bring him home and restore him to his original age. Damian doesn’t know if that’s what he wants anymore.

Dick stands and gives Danny some imaginary excuse to leave quickly. Damian watches him go and so does Danny.

“Funny guy, huh Dami?”

Damian doesn’t respond and Danny notices his change in mood.

“Come here, little guy.”

He knows what Danny is going to do and willingly goes. He is pulled up into the man’s lap and held between two surprisingly muscular arms. Danny’s hugs are nice and warm. They aren’t too tight like Dick’s nor are they stiff like Bruce’s. He never thought he could enjoy human contact, but Danny has been showing him things about himself he didn’t ever know. Turns out he does like hugs and playing airplane and when Danny runs his fingers through his hair when he’s really sleepy.

“Let’s go home a little early today, huh? I’ll make spaghetti and you can be as messy as you want,” Danny promises.

Damian hums. Yes, that sounds nice.

That night Batman comes in through the window. Damian is waiting.

“Damian,” Batman whispers.

“Bah-mun.”

The flat, unamused stare is what gives him away.

Batman lets out a breath silently and reaches into the crib Danny had gotten him.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

Batman jerks into action, twisting to face Danny who had appeared suddenly. The door behind him is still closed.

Batman stays quiet, silently studying the man before him dressed in pajama pants and a worn t-shirt.

Danny tilts his head as he does the same. Damian has never seen the man so serious. He silently worries for the man. He didn’t want him getting hurt to unnecessarily protecting him from his father.

“I’d have to break your arm if you tried to do what it looks like you’re doing.”

Danny says it so plainly. So simple.

Batman straightens.

“He isn’t yours.”

He doesn’t say Damian is his. He doesn’t claim him as his own. Just that Danny shouldn’t have him.

Damian silently agrees because technically he’s right. He doesn’t deserve Danny. He can’t keep playing house like he’s an actual baby. But Damian is also selfish and over the last few months has been taught that it’s okay to ask for things he wants even if it’s not inherently beneficial. The stuffed dog he sleeps with every night is proof of that.

So Damian says nothing.

“He is now,” Danny answers simply like there was no other answer to such a statement.

“He needs to go back to where he belongs.”

“Over my dead body,” is the immediate response.

They stare each other down until Danny scoffs.

“Don’t think I’m not petty enough to fight you, Batman. I’ll fight anyone who wants to take him from me. Damian is mine.”

When Batman tries to forcibly take him, he ends up with a concussion, a blood nose, and two broken arms. Red Robin finds him in a dumpster the next morning.

The story continues with Damian learning how to be a child his age, Danny protecting him and doting on his brilliant son, and the Batfam’s frequent failed attempts to kidnap Damian back to them.

[staryuee]

GIVING THEM A FRIENDSHIP BRACELET

꒰warnings꒱ not proofread…:3

⠀꒲ ` synopsis . . . how would your significant other react when you give them a friendship bracelet made by your own kind hands?

⠀꒲ ` characters . . . diluc, kazuha, kokomi, scaramouche, heizou, itto, cyno, lyney, lynette, freminet, furina, neuvillette, navia, ga ming, chiori, arlecchino

⠀꒲ ` notes . . . this reminded of primary school days of making randomly coloured loom band bracelets…sniffles, the good ol’ days of giving your crush bundled up daisies that had bugs on them from the schools yard and then immediately running away (i am a lesbian i had no such experience in just talking for the sake of poetry ☆〜（ゝ。∂)

R. DILUC — 迪卢克

“what’s this, my love?” he cautiously surveyed the tiny strings and charms with a shocked yet rather satisfied expression. so this is what you were so focused on for the last couple hours…? he can’t help but feel slightly relieved that instead of wasting away at work you were merely crafting a cutely childish gift for him.

“it’s a friendship bracelet! look, i even managed to find these cute strawberry charms for you.” you laughed and start fiddling with the short strands near his scalp, fiddling with them and folding them over to create a stem-like shape.

diluc softly exhaled in amusement, wrapping the small piece of jewellery around his already bedazzled wrist. it takes him a real good second to actually realise what you just said. awkwardly coughing into his hand, diluc catches your attention, “darling, you do realise we’re married?”

a smile possesses your face as you hook your arm with his. “of course i do! i just thought it’d be cute, you know?” he smiled in response.

diluc is no stranger to friendship bracelets. after all, him and kaeya used to make those for each other all the time. sometimes that young triplet consisting of a very dedicated jean, a shy kaeya and a mischievous diluc (sometimes a cutsey barbara who tried to eat the beads) would gather together to create and exchange such bracelets.

a tradition that diluc might’ve let go of but had never forgotten. when you go to sleep at night diluc immediately places your bracelet into a drawer where he kept all of the ones from his childhood.

K. KAZUHA — 枫原万叶

“is this a friendship bracelet? that’s very considerate of you, my love.” kazuha tilts your chin to press a feather-light kiss onto your lips, his touch so tender it was like being touched by sunlight itself. “but i thought we were passed our journey of friendship?” his hand travel down to your hips. squeezing them intently to bring you close to his flowery scent.

“or do i need to remind you that we’re lovers?” taking your hand in his, kazuha leaned his head down to press his lips against your knuckles, eyes peeking through his bangs as if to entice you. and, well, of course it did. kazuha knew just a simple glance at you paired with an affectionate grin was enough to lure you into loving his arms.

kazuha didn’t expect for a piece of handmade jewellery consisting of maple leaf charms with red string to become so sentimental to him, but it was only a matter of time till the bracelet helped become an engraved memory of you. he’d kiss it each time you were apart, hold it up against moonlight while stargazing, trying to illustrate your figure within a constellation.

wandering became more exciting. he’d get to slowly part from your lips, while still having a perpetual reminder of the love you shared with a few pieces of strings tied to his wrist alone.

kazuha, though content with this, always secretly craved to hear the sound of your voice as you called his name and reached out to him. however, within his life he’s learned one thing that has truly stood out; it’s the small things in life that mirror true beauty.

S. KOKOMI — 珊瑚宫心海

“your excellency? what is that on your wrist?” gorou tilted his head curiously, his ears twitching in tandem.

“hm? oh, this?” she shakes the coral coloured bracelet, making the beads and fish charms jingle excitedly as if they were jumping within sea waves. “haha, [name] gave it to me. it’s a friendship bracelet!” kokomi shows it off with pride, a flutter of flapping fins hit her ribcage in the form of her beating heart at the prospect of people seeing the deepness of your ocean-depth bond with just a few beads on a string.

burnout is utterly debilitating. as kokomi spends only a few minutes in her recluse corner within watatsumi, even the shimmering of pearls and the quiet sound of the shore isn’t enough to bring her fragmented energy to rest. nesting her head upon the bundled arms that laid carefully on her desk, she attempted to snooze. finding that she can just barely flutter her curled eyelashes close before an unbearable ache pinches her eyebrows into a knot.

feeling defeated, kokomi sits back up and taps her fingers absentmindedly on the wood, finding just a tiny bit of solace in the sound of clicking and clacking. wait…she quickly glanced at her wrist, noticing she completely forgot to take off her bracelet when preforming her duties. despite her fatigue, kokomi can’t help but exhale a smile. calloused fingers tweezing the bubbly fish charms in an attempt for stimuli that wasn’t so agonising.

she’s so glad she has you, even if that memory of you is withheld in something children share for an intended promise of foreverness.

SCARAMOUCHE — 斯卡拉姆齐

“are you twelve?“ scaramouche raises his eyebrows at you with a sneer, a look of either disgust or confusion on his face. “if i didn’t know any better, i’d say you were mocking me.”

“you’re short but not kid short!” you retorted to appease him, rolling your eyes at his annoying theatrics. did he really have to be so bitchy all the time? i guess when people say that short people tend to be the most angry because all that wrath is bottled into such a teeny body it’s very true…

the friendship bracelets (yes you made two!) were a representation of his journey from the malicious “balladeer” to the slightly less malicious and more so bittersweet wanderer. a contradicting colour palette yet his frosty and asshole attitude remained the same no matter what hue of the rainbow he was dipped in (should’ve been named skittle not scaramouche).

“if you don’t like it that much you don’t have to wear it, it’s not like i’m forcing you.” a pang of disappointed squeezed your chest heavily. it would’ve been fine if he just threw it away after a week or so. you would’ve been extremely hurt yes, but it’s better than having your own lover reject a handmade gift without even a thought for your feelings.

seeing your frown lines and the way your eyebrows scrunched together, scaramouche sighed and immediately snatched the bracelets back. quickly covering them over his wrist and crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “i never said i wouldn’t wear it, stop being whiny.”

the slight embarrassment he felt was worth every stroke of blush on his cheeks if it meant he could see you smile brightly at something so childish.

S. HEIZOU — 鹿野院平藏

“it’s not our anniversary.” heizou stated simply.

“nope.”

“neither of our birthdays.”

“nope.”

“not a special achievement either.”

“nope.”

“alright, love, spill. what’s the occasion, hm? just in the mood to spoil me with your affections?” heizou threw his hands up in defeat. not being able to use his detective experience into deciphering why you decided to be so cute today and bless his otherwise uneventful day.

carefully, you wrapped the bracelet around his eager wrist. “no occasion~ just felt like giving you a friendship bracelet to show my love for you.” he raises an eyebrow. leaning to your eye level, heizou procures a look of confused distaste at your seemingly innocent admission. “friendship?” he looks away dejected, placing his hands on his hips. “and here i thought i was your very cool and sweet boyfriend.”

brushing away his dramatics and looping your arms around his neck to pull his pouty face in closer, you retaliate. “oh hush, you’re still my lovely dramatic boyfriend.” heizou smirked and leaned in impossibly close, his breath tickling your soft skin generously.

“then, could you show your love for me in another way too?” begrudgingly, you caved. moulding your lips with his while his hands gradually situated themselves on your hips. a chuckle escapes his occupied mouth, leaving a tingling feeling down your spine as you pull away, a bright smirk on his face. “thanks for the bracelet, baby~ i’ll be sure to wear it as my lucky charm during investigations!”

A. ITTO — 荒泷一斗

“well of course you’d want to bless the almighty arataki itto with such a gift! i humbly accept your offering~” itto sways a thumbs up, tongue rolling across his pointy teeth in an extravagant display of confident hubris. all in vain, of course. no amount of bravado could dull the charming blush on his cheeks; the way his grin hoisted into a genuine smile of gratitude or the way his eyes glistened with a familiar light; childlike wonder.

itto was never and has never been accustomed to such small things in life. honestly, he was lucky for a stranger to not throw insults, physical objects, hits, kicks, spit, and the like for his mere existence. a friendship bracelet was an event that was so far out of reach for the oni that the only thing he wanted to do right now was to kiss you stupid.

but, he couldn’t. he stood still, twiddling with the beads that nested against his wrist with a haze that was absentminded you felt like tapping him would cause a bubble to burst above his head for water to splash him awake.

the word “friend” doesn’t even register into his brain. he’s too content with the knowledge that your bond meant something to you. that he meant something to you.

you’ve never seen itto so quiet before. he’s usually this giant (literally) ball of energy that bounces around the place and shares an infectious attitude of confidence and joy with no restraint even to the most stoic, but right now, it was like he was that small vulnerable child again given a chance at redemption for simply living.

CYNO — 赛诺

cyno tilts his head to the side as he stares with pinched brows at the weaved threads of purple and yellow beads and charms that you held in front of you with a delicate hand. “what’s the bracelet for?”

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” taking the initiative, you wrap the bracelet around his relatively small wrist and watch in awe as it seems to match his palette perfectly. perhaps not his personality, but maybe if he wore this around regularly people wouldn’t be so frightened by his frozen features.

cyno went quiet for a moment, a look of confusion on his face. a look that made you shrink in shame. did he not like it? was something wrong with it? is it too childish for someone with such an esteemed status? all such baseless thoughts get immediately dispelled once cyno’s lips curl into a subtle grin, his eyes narrowing devilishly.

you’ve often seen this look when he’s about to score a rewarding win in a tcg tournament. but, he also had this look when…fuck. you sigh in defeat and simply let him say it. “why did the friendship bracelet break up with its partner?”

“…ha. why?”

“because it felt tied down.”

you know how in animes when someone says something very fucking stupid, it’s like the world echoes with silence to allow the person to truly feel the embarrassment from their words? you hoped that’s what cyno felt when you blank stared him with a thin line for your lips, hands clenching and unclenching as you fought the urge to squeeze his cheeks together.

“do you get it?” he asks, but before he can ramble about the absolutely articulate construction of his pun, you spring into action and press your lips passionately on his. of course, he replies eagerly. enjoying the clicking of the beads hitting together as his hand made it’s swift, instinctive movement to your waist.

LYNEY — 林尼

“mon ange…is this for me?” lyney smiles gently at you, sneaking the red bracelet onto his wrist. unable to take his away from the fine craftsmanship and the adorable details of hats, doves and some card charms. knowing you thought of him so directly and so in depth made his heart flutter the same way a dove’s wings expand after being liberated from a cooped cage.

“of course it is, it’s a friendship bracelet!” you clasp your hands behind your back, awaiting either his praise or his teasing — whatever he was in the mood for more. despite the happiness that surged through his heart like a bad game of throw the dart, believe me you shot him hard in the feels, lyney frowns.

“but, mon chéri…” he sighs in despair, a theatric hand over the very heart you had gripped tightly in your hand with a mere few beads of coloured wax. “i haven’t gotten a gift for you, i feel rather ashamed of myself.”

“don’t worry about that, this is just meant to be my good luck charm for you during your shows and…” your voice trailed off to him. not because he was uninterested but because he loved the buzzing sound of your melodic syllables each time your lips opened.

“ah, my dear,” lyney paused your affectionate rambles politely, “you’ve got something here…” you tilt your head to the side quizzically and await for him to point at it or take it out. he grins wildly. “well, isn’t that cute?” lyney chuckles softly and while leaning suuuper close to your ear, ‘magically’ pulls out a rainbow rose from seemingly no where.

“it seems we’re even now, hm?” he gestures, handing the rose over with a wink, leaving a cheeky kiss to your jawline in gratitude.

LYNETTE — 琳妮特

knowing lynette’s character and demeanour intricately, you’re aware that grand gestures aren’t at all her thing. she can barely handle a tea time conversation with someone if she’s forced to play an active role.

the bracelet sat enclosed within your palm as you rambled on about your day to lynette, feeling an unshakable amount of anxiety vomiting into your gut for no reason but overthinking. you’ve been avoiding giving her this bracelet for a week now in fear she’ll find very little value or use in something so minimal.

“you have something you want to give me.” a phrase intended as a question, but said more so as a statement.

“i…uh, how did you know?” you laugh and play with the strings of the bracelet cautiously as to not break it.

“your eyebrows are furrowed and you keep glancing away from me.” she analyses you like a real robot…i guess she’s really committed to that bit. either that or she just loves you too much that being unable to read your expressions would be a grievous sin on her part.

with a sigh of defeat, you slide over the bracelet to her with an awkward smile paling your usually joyous lips. “i made a friendship bracelet for you…thought it’d be cute.” lynette doesn’t understand people around her a majority of the time. truly, she doesn’t even want to, it’s not like she needs to either since she has her brother to leech on and others to fool with her robotic party trick and yet, she can’t help but wonder why it is you choose to defend yourself over something so sweet.

“thank you, it’s cute. i’ll wear it for my next show if i’m able to.” her lips curve upward in what to most would seem like a twenty degree uplift, but to you, it meant quite literally everything.

FREMINET — 菲米尼

nothing. no amount of experiences with his interactions with people could’ve prepared him for the absolute heart attack that was this gesture.

he loved it, too much. he wishes he could just dip back into the ocean depths. indulge in a meaningless conversation with the tidalga, or even express his feelings of adoration to you to pers. but currently, it was only you two sharing a humble moment together. no person he could lean in, no space he could rush the words he’d love to say to you in gratitude for the gift.

and you knew that. and that’s what he also loved about you. how willing you were to accept and love him even with him being less socially adept than a coral reef. feeling the cool and vibrant coloured bracelet tilt around his wrist and knot in place, he smiled wobbly.

between the silence, you knew that the quiet smile and nod meant more than his stammered and hushed words could ever express. leaning in to press a kiss to the side of his wrist and cheek, freminet manages to gulp a bit of courage and swallow his static and tingly anxiety, reaching to kiss your forehead. letting his lips linger momentarily before he backed away. “thank you…”

FURINA — 芙宁娜

heartbeat pounding in her ears. eyes narrowing into puffy circles. her bottom lip bitten brutally by her gnashing teeth. hands shaky, making her teacup tremble within her grip. why were you glaring at her so intensely?!

first the invitation for a tea party with only you two as the special guests. second the ominous letter claiming you two “need to talk.” and now, you were completely quiet and calmly snacking, drinking away several blends of tea without a word! it was absolutely ridiculous to think the one person she has entrusted her still mending heart with is ignoring all the clear signs of hesitance and vulnerabilities within the relationship despite them all being initiated by them!

“so, furina.” you clasp your hands together, an impish look transforming your usually peaceful face. her heartbeat stammers as her eyes meet yours in a tender glance. “uhm..yeah?” furina attempts to appear more courageous than she is, but truly, she’s shitting it (for lack of a better term).

the silence stretched on for too long before you giggled and pulled up a blue and white toned bracelet from your sleeves, shaking it with your fingertips with a kind smile. “i made you a friendship bracelet!”

a ghost wavered out of her frightened soul, the tea in her hand put down at this point so she can savour the comforting feeling of her head in her hands. being a gorgeous, shining star in the spotlight of fontaine’s grand stage, furina isn’t a secondhand stranger to gifts. whether they’ve been given to her personally, awkwardly, silently, with no words signed or a creepy letter attached expressing their reverence.

she wishes you’d sometimes go that route instead of matching her in these theatrics! begrudgingly, despite the little flutter in her heart, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and looked at you with a pout that you couldn’t help but lean in to kiss.

NEUVILLETTE — 那维莱特

neuvillette hums a tune along to the orchestra of the vinyl. an accompanying sound of his pen hastily itching onto the paper adding to the rhythm. his door opens and while he’d normally remain quietly focused on his piling paperwork, he recognised this particular patter of footsteps coming towards him. you.

smiling habitually and peering his head up, neuvillette greeted you lovingly. “hello, my love. what brings you here today? did you get in trouble?” he knew the reason you’d come ushering into his office was hardly with the intention of getting him to aid you with your troublesome quarrels, but rather, you just wanting his love and affection that he was more than willing to fulfil. if time allowed, of course.

“no, no. nothing like that, yet…” you grinned and neuvillette looked at you with a playful look of disappointment at the hesitance. “i made you a gift!” with a prideful aura that was less arrogance and more pure joy, you presented the bracelet to him. he wasted no time in stirring the small bundle of fabric and beads with his gloves. “look,” you pointed eagerly, “i even managed to commission some furina and melusine charms! you know how we always joke about them being like our children? i thought i’d be a cute addition!”

he exhaled a satisfactory laugh in agreement, interlocking your hand in his to press a kiss to your knuckles in thanks. “cute, indeed. thank you, mon chéri. you’re too sweet sometimes.” you sit on the edge of his desk, watching excitedly as he places the bracelet onto his wrist. “as a gift in return, after i’m done with work, how about we take a nice stroll together? i assure you, no rain will interrupt our serenity so long as you’re by my side.”

NAVIA — 娜维娅

immediately gushes at you as your palm opens to present the gold and blue hued bracelet to her, adorned with rose charms that you personally painted in gold and a greyish blue to accentuate her outfit if she decides to wear it. it was less a decision and more a necessity.

she delicately handled the bracelet onto her wrist and kissed both of your cheeks in gratitude, “thank you so much, sweetheart! this is so cute…but what’s the occasion? it’s not our anniversary or anything like that.” navia smiled at you, playing with some of the little roses and twirling them around in appreciation.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!”

her lips pucker into a pout as she starts to coddle you within her arms, occasionally swinging you around gently. “you’re so absolutely adorable!” she nips at your earlobe, kissing it as a form of apology. “but honey, you do know we aren’t just friends right?” navia captures your cheeks within her palms. “we’re lovers!” she presses several kisses across your face, ending her affectionate spillage with a press of her lips on yours.

“oops— haha, sorry i got lipstick all over you, darling.” navia chuckled and began wiping away all the lipstick smudges from your pretty face. yet her attempts bore no fruit. instead of wiping away anything, she only made it oh so much worse. “ah well, guess we both got presents from one another today?” she snickers, twirling her wrist to show off the bracelet with a wink.

GA MING — 嘉明

if you thought this man’s eyes couldn’t get any brighter, then you’re absolutely dead wrong. if you thought he could jump high while lion dancing, you’re also absolutely dead wrong!

he could outrun god right now. if you asked him to defeat a hoard of lined up mondstadt and liyue treasure hoarders, he’d do it in a heartbeat. what possessed you to be so cute?! do you seriously think he can take another heart attack like this after the one he had during lantern rite?

you aren’t able to say much or even explain your reasons for as to why you decided to make this nor what it even is or represents before ga ming smacks his lips messily all over your face. a mixture of your own gloss from kissing you earlier and his own saliva stick to your skin sloppily and you can’t help but feel both enamoured and grossly repulsed at the mixture of sticky wetness on your cheeks as well as the love that seemed to glow like fireworks.

“mmuah~! i love you so much…are you trying to make me cry?” he pouts, becoming a giggling mess as soon as you roll your eyes at his dramatics.

he keeps the bracelet on every day. sometimes he’ll be pouty all day if he’s unable to wear it in fear of it snapping and wasting away all your precious hard work due to either his negligence or the pains of manual labour…he’ll have to cope with simply glancing at the red imprints the beads had left intended onto his skin for satisfaction.

CHIORI — 千织

“what is this?” she jingles the vivid and strong orange coloured bracelet in front of her face, appreciating the tiny details of the cute sewing equipment charms and what looked to be handmade porcelain bows embedded onto some beads.

“it’s a friendship bracelet!” you gleam at her, pride evident in your face at your creation. she hums in agreement; it was certainly something alright.

“oh. cute.” that’s all the genuine feedback she could give you without mentioning how tacky it would look with her attire — it was an affectionate gesture, one which she didn’t want to undermine and therefore, with little complaint despite her own personal conflicts, she slipped the bracelet onto her wrist, extending her hand out and twirling it to admire the craftsmanship.

you won’t see her actively wearing it out in every day life, perhaps you’ll manage to sneak a glimpse of her playing with the beads while she’s going over some designs in her sketchbook but otherwise, her gloved hands contain nothing but the smell of perfume.

not that she’d admit it outright until you asked, but the real reason she refuses to wear your bracelet daily is for a simple reason; she doesn’t want it to break in order to have that constant reminder of you as she goes to bed and stares up at her ceiling with the bracelet being coddled between her fingertips.

ARLECCHINO — 阿蕾奇诺

“you’re so childish.” she muses, tracing her nails across the beads, eliciting a weird clacking sound as the charms and beads hit against each other. “but i suppose that’s also an alluring aspect to you.” she ushers the bracelet onto her wrist. despite it being completely covered, there was something even more intimate about her gift being a part of a hidden identity for her; your affection only intended for your gorgeous eyes and her narrowed ones.

tilting your head to her eye-level, you can smell her musky perfume. she leaned in for a kiss. her lips tasting like flavoured gloss consisting of all sorts of red berries, an accurate mirror to the rosey colour of her bright lips. a sneaky hand traced circles around your hips and waist as she attempted to take your breath away. a scythe is a befitting weapon for a woman who’s kiss was practically a notion for death.

she’s used to her children offering gifts and trinkets to her. rocks, random jewellery they crafted with glue, messy crayon drawings, sometimes even in the most macabre scenarios, blood itself. each of those, however, she cherished wholeheartedly. the same way she’d cherish the bond between you two that she’d never allow for anyone to break.

so long as she continuously receives silly gestures like this, she’s convinced she’ll be able to hold you within her embrace with very little effort.

©STARYUEE do not copy, steal or repost ♡ ᴜsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ɪʜᴇᴀʀᴛɢᴀɴʏᴜ

[cloudystevie]

How would bucky react to his wife being known as a milf😭 jealous or proud

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warnings: pda, possessiveness, you and bucky are married and have a 3 year old son😊 and no actual smut but some allusions to it

author’s note: i think he’d be a mix of both but he only knows how to be possessive about it!!! sorry if this is not what you wanted but it is unfortunately the way my mind worked😓

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18+ only minors dni.

Bucky’s not blind. He knows you’re beautiful inside and out and how your energy reflects on everything you do. The kindness in your heart and the serenity in your soul attract people to you. The fact that you’re the most gorgeous person on the planet is just a little added bonus.

This Saturday afternoon is spent shopping for a new summer wardrobe for your three-year-old son and maybe snagging a couple of cute pieces for yourself.

Bucky completely clears his schedule every weekend without fail to devote time to you and your child together. This one starts with a brunch. You are dressed up all sweet and pretty for him in a dainty white sundress, enhancing your body in all the best ways. You look breathtaking, and Bucky hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to behave for the rest of the day until he can get you back into the bed.

You seem to have caught the attention of the young waiter, whose pale skin grows a splotchy red every time you thank him for his service. He stutters out a thank you, boldly initiating eye contact but quickly darting away when Bucky sits up just a little bit straighter, a little bit taller.

Later, after a successful shopping trip, you hold back a giggle as your son darts around the playground while you are seated next to Bucky on the bench.

“What’s so funny, baby?” he furrows his eyebrows, still a bit peeved at how the sales associate at the previous boutique you three visited wanted to set you up with her son. Showing you pictures and talking him up. Bucky was busy on the other end of the store, letting your son wander around to burn off more energy. His ears perked up at your conversation with the older lady. He argues that what he did was not petty or childish in the slightest, but the way he all but stalked over to you just to place a possessive hand on your waist and an almost vulgar kiss on your lips had the poor lady coughing in discomfort as she quickly busied herself with folding clothes.

Then suddenly, your son appeared and began poking at your calf, “Mama, can we go now?” While you remained breathless with your cheeks burning, Bucky quickly snatched him up, kissing his forehead before leading you two out of the boutique. A few minutes later, you’re in the car, and your son gets your attention from the backseat. " Mama, mama!” you reply, turning around as Bucky pulls out of the parking spot. " Yes, baby?”

“Dada said we have to save you from the monster lady! He said she was going to steal you from us! Did we safe you, mama? " His chubby face is twisted in concern.

You looked at Bucky with narrow eyes, a light smile tugging at your lips: " Yeah, baby, you saved me. Thank god I have you and Dada to protect me!” Bucky just had a smug smile on his face, not at all ashamed of what he had done. Your son giggled in agreement, no longer concerned and instead focused on the cars passing by. You fiddled with Bucky’s fingers on your thigh as you admired him while he was driving when he leisurely brought your hand to his face, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand.

“Nothing,” you giggle, watching your son run around the slide instead of sliding down it, “I just think it’s cute how jealous you get.” Your voice has a teasing lilt as you look up at him, playfully squishing his cheeks together. Bucky rolls his eyes, his hand grabbing your wrist gently to easily remove it from his face as he moves your hand to trace over the diamond ring adorning your ring finger. With a slight smirk, he brings your hand up to kiss your ring finger, intertwining your hands and looking at you with a glint in his eyes.

He brings his face closer to yours, lips hovering but not touching as he speaks lowly, “Our next stop is gonna be a jewelry store. I’m getting you a bigger diamond so everyone knows you’re well taken care of.” He places a peck on your parted lips before turning around and calling for your son, who looks ready for his afternoon nap, as he holds his arms out for Bucky to carry him.

[mattsfavoritestar]

NEVER BE LIKE YOU, chris sturniolo

synopsis… (based on this ask ) or in which you used to treat chris terribly in highschool, now you’ve graduated and matured but you weren’t the only one who’s changed

warnings… mentions of bullying, rough sex, semi-public sex, degrading, edging, overstimulation, mean!chris, former bully!reader, creampie, perv!chris if you squint, unprotected p in v (WRAP IT B4 YOU TAP IT)

@bernardsbendystraws for the dividers <3

you used to tell yourself that you would never go for matt and nick’s little brother. yes, you know that they are triplets but chris always seem’d so childish and annoying in your eyes. he used to trail after you like a pet and make stupid flirty comments or compliments.

you thought that chris sturniolo was thee most aggravating person to walk the planet. yet here you were staring at him from across the room. you nudged your friend, “hey when did chris get so cute?” you whispered. your friend shot you a deadpanned expression then rolled her eyes. “after graduation, guess he decided to do the whole glow up thing” she responds.

chris used to be the scrawny kid with messy short hair. now his curls framed his face in a godly way and whenever he moved a certain way, his muscles and veins flexed. you also noticed that when you walked into the house, he didn’t even acknowledge you like he used to.

“why do you care?”

“hm?”

“i said why do you care anyways, didn’t you used to hate him or some shit?”

you shrugged your shoulders. no secret that you used to practically torture the poor boy as if he was some servant or lapdog. chris used to do literally anything if it ment you would reward him even if the gift was as small as allowing him to hold your hand for five seconds. it was laughable at the time the way he acting like a wounded puppy whenever you got mad at him for the slightest thing.

your heart started racing when he looked up and stared dead into your eyes. those blue eyes that you used to not care for now made your body feel heated and achy. you broke contact as you felt your thighs squeeze for some type of relief. “m’gonna go to the bathroom” you mumbled to your friend as you got up.

you looked over yourself in the mirror. you always took pride into your appearance, a habit that stuck since high school. you turned around and opened the door but was shocked when met with chris looking down on his phone.

“uhm, hey” you quietly say causing him to look up at you. a small smirk appeared on his face as he turned his phone off and leans onto the door frame. “hi” he replied. you tried going past him but was pushed back into the bathroom. chris closes the door behind him with the lock without breaking eye contact.

“what are you doing” you say cautiously ask as you look between him and the door. chris shrugs, “just thought i’d talk to you for a sec” he says. as chris walks closer to you, you walk backwards till your back brushes the sink. chris traps you with his hands on either side of you as he looks down with a mischievous smile.

“never thought i’d see that day where little miss royalty would get so nervous around me” he laughs. your breath started to pick up as he leans down closer and closer till your lips brush. you squealed in surprise when chris roughly turns you around so you were leaning on the sink with your back facing him.

you felt him breathing down your neck as his hands lightly trailed down your sides. you let out a sigh and let your head drop back onto his shoulder while your eyes closed. chris starts chuckling then removes his hands. “remember when you used to make me do your homework just so i could sit next to you?” he asks.

you opened you eyes and look at him with a sad expression. “m’sorry for treating you like that back then” you say in a small voice. chris roughly grabs your waist and pushes you off him. you gasped as you felt him bring your hips to meet his growing bulge. “i saw you staring at me earlier” he says, “didn’t know you let yourself go enough to want to fuck a loser” he sneered. you frowned to yourself at the memory.

“be serious for a second chris. i’d never fuck a loser like you” you laughed.

you couldn’t lie, you were a regina george back then. chris was such a sweet guy to you too, he always treated you like a princess even though you already had the royal status at school. you were his number one priority and you took advantage of that. you used him back then. now it was his turn to use you.

you bit your lip to hide the moan as chris grinded your lower half’s together. “chris everyone’s out there” you reminded him. chris laughs, “don’t be loud then. unless you want them to hear you act like a whore” he taunts. your dress was pushed up and your laced underwear was yanked down.

“who knew your clothes could get even more slutty after high school” chris grumbled. you always wore clothes that would be at the brink of the dress code. now that those bullshit rules can’t effect you, you wore even more revealing stuff whenever you didn’t have any important place to go to.

your breath hitched as you felt his thumb swipe the arousal from your folds. you looked up to the mirror infront of you as you saw chris suck his thumb off with a groan erupting from his throat. “waiting so long to taste you” he whispered. he brought his hand back down and inserted two fingers into your dripping cunt as he bit his lip.

you moaned as you locked eyes with him in the mirror then brought your hand up to cover your mouth. chris smiled as he worked his fingers in a rapid pace, not caring for how hard it was for you to keep your voice as low as possible. you rolled your eyes to the back of your head as you felt a knot forming in your stomach.

but chris saw your pleasured expression. he yanked his fingers out of you and slapped your ass. you whined at the lost feeling then whimpered as you felt chris get a tight hold on your hair, yanking your head back. “you don’t deserve to fucking cum” he grunted in your ear.

chris pulled his pants and boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock. a sigh of relief fell from his lips as he stroked himself slightly. he lined himself up to your wet hole then pushed in with slight aggression. a muffled moan left your mouth as you tightened the hand that covered it .

you heard chris breathing heavily and felt his fingers dig into your skin. he moved his hips slightly as if he was testing the waters meanwhile you were using his delay as time to try adjusting to his size. chris was definitely bigger than any other guy you fucked and you were starting to regret not taking his offer for a date two years ago.

as soon as chris decided that he was ready, he rocked his hips slowly then picked up the pace. his thrust were aggressive. harsh. needy. as if he wanted to fuck his anger into you. but also can’t get enough of you. you had one hand trying to balance yourself on the sink counter while the other still covered the moans and whimpers that fell from your lips.

“waiting so fucking long to stretch this pussy” he groans. somehow the aggression grew more rough and since chris was already a bit too big, it felt like he was abusing your cunt. you took your hand off your mouth then reached back to try to push him away. chris laughs as he roughly pins your hand onto the counter.

“are you trying to run from me? thought this is what you wanted” he snarled, “i always give you want you want, don’t i? fucking spoiled brat” his voice was laced with venom. you felt your eyes water but couldn’t tell if it was from pain, pleasure, or regret.

“mhm chris!” you squealed as you felt him brush your cervix. you caught a glimpse of his face, a smile as he bit his lip while watching you through the mirror. “‘member when you called me a whiny bitch? look at you now, crying on my dick” he laughs. you close your eyes as the vivid memory flashed into your brain.

“but you promised” he mumbled. you rolled your eyes, “don’t tell me you’re gonna cry you whiny bitch” you mocked.

“m’sorry! m’so sorry!” you cried. your knuckles grew white as your grip on the counter tightened. the familiar knot in your stomach reappeared, this time even tighter than before. “ch-chris! gonna cum!” you warned. his cock didn’t stop ramming into your now puffy cunt. “yeah? gonna make a mess on me?” he muttered.

you nodded repeatedly as you felt your self at the brink of an orgasm. your vision went blurry with white splotches as you felt yourself release on chris’s cock. “t-to much..” you tried saying in shaken voice. you couldn’t even breathe properly, it felt like he was rearranging your guts. the overstimulation was overwhelming but fuck it felt so good.

it finally dawned on you that this wasn’t for your pleasure but his. chris was actively using you as a sleeve to wet his dick and to get back at you for all those years. you felt him pull you closer as if he was hugging you from the back. you felt his sweaty forehead touching the back of your neck.

“finally get to fill you up- fuck” he moaned as you found yourself coming to your second orgasm. with the rest of your strength, you slammed your hand onto the counter as you felt yourself somewhat peeing on him. you heard chris whimpering as he tightened his hold on you and tried pulling you closer.

a series of curses left his mouth as his load pumped into you with sloppy thrust. you couldn’t help letting out a loud moan as chris gives you one final harsh thrust before pulling out. you felt your knees buckle after chris removes himself from you. you watched through your wet lashes as he fixes his clothes and pockets your underwear.

as chris exits the bathroom, you tried lifting yourself up with the help of the counter. you felt the thick sticky mixture of your fluids and his load dripping out of you. through the crack of the door you heard matt telling chris that everyone else left to get food then asked why you both took so long to which chris replied by saying ‘you needed help in the bathroom’.

[landopoet]

crave.

pairing teammate!lando x sainz!reader

warnings smut, mentions of alcohol

playlist obsessive - chase atlantic / is there someone else? - the weeknd / 2 hands - tate mcrae / sex money feelings die - lykke li / favourite - isabel larosa

synopsis what happens when the person you hate stays over for the weekend?

part one of a two part series

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Y/N, come down. Lando’s here.”

Your home in Monaco has always been your comfort place. It’s always quiet, always peaceful, it helps you detach from the harsh reality of having a bitchy teammate who, despite being your brother's best friend, hates you.

So, when you hear Carlos call for you from the hallway, you’re rolling your eyes at the feeling of peace being torn from you by the mere mention of your rival’s name.

You jog down the stairs and watch as Lando glances at you from the kitchen, the tiniest look of irritation on his face. Carlos is making him a cup of tea and you sit down on the island beside the sink.

“You didn’t tell me Lando would be coming over.” You watch as your brother’s eyes lock onto yours.

“I didn’t.” He shrugs. “But it’s my home, so who I invite shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Our home.”You roll your eyes. “It’s not, unless you’re inviting Lando.”

Lando clears his throat from right behind you, finding a seat at the other side of the island. “I’m right here, by the way.”

“I wish you weren’t.” You mumble, hopping off the island and getting ready to go back to your room. Carlos calls your name before you can make it up the first step of the staircase. “What?” You ask, annoyed.

“The season starts next week, I assume you’ve been informed about the celebratory party tomorrow evening?”

“I have.” You lean against the railing of the stairs. “Why?”

“Lando’s joining us.” Carlos states, placing the warm cup of tea in front of Lando. Your eyes examine the look on his face and you can’t help to notice that your brother is completely serious. Lando seems to have that same conclusion when his mouth parts to retaliate.

“No, I’m not.”

A sigh slips past Carlos’ lips, his head tilting back and eyes closed, irritation painting every single one of his sharp features. “Yes, you are.”

“That’s unfair. I’m not going.” You declare, arms crossed over your chest. Lando’s eyes glanced at you for a moment, gaze lingering on the way your tits looked cute pushed up like that. He shakes his head, as if to rid it of that thought. Nice attempt, considering it didn’t work.

“Me neither.” Lando says, agreeing with you for once.

Carlos pinches the bridge of his nose, clearly irritated. “Both of you are so childish. It’s a work party, not something random you can skip.”

“But-“ You sigh, not getting into more arguments. The parties are usually hosted at clubs big enough to get lost in, so even if you did go, there’s a low chance you’d interact with Lando throughout the night. That thought alone calms you down, distracting you from the fact that the man in question will be staying at your home for a few days. “Fine.”

Carlos smiles at you with a pleasant look on his face and you roll your eyes at both of the men before jogging back up the stairs. You can hear their voices fading into the background as you shut your bedroom door behind yourself, going back to whatever you were doing earlier.

There’s at least another three hours of uninterrupted peace, before you hear footsteps making their way up the stairs. It wouldn’t make sense for Carlos to be up here, since his bedroom is on the first floor, which means that the loud footsteps you’re hearing belong to none other than Lando himself. You can’t help but roll your eyes at that. He can’t seem to do anything peacefully, in race or not.

You peel your eyes away from the book in your lap and focus your attention on Lando’s noises in the hallway. He steps closer and closer to your bedroom door, and you can tell he’s about to barge in, but he notices the light coming from under the door and steps away.

Lando runs a hand down his face as he tries his best to navigate his way through your house. He opens the door that’s right beside your room and finds out that it’s the bathroom. The next door he opens is a walk-in closet and he groans in frustration. “The fuck do they need so many rooms for.” He mumbles under his breath.

His home back in England isn’t anything short of fancy, but it’s surely not a maze. He opens the next door and, to his surprise, it’s yet another bathroom.

“It’s the door in front of my room.” Your head poked out through your bedroom door and Lando turned around to face you, his eyes turning darker with a coldness to them.

Lando walks to the door you were aiming your finger at. His fingers grip the handle and when the door swings open, he sees that it is, in fact, his room. He notices the small smirk on your lips. “I knew that.”

You can’t help but laugh at him trying to play it off cool. “Of course you did.”

⟡

The kitchen tiles are cold beneath your bare feet.

You’re rummaging your fridge for something to eat. Having Lando in the house means you’re locked away in your own room, avoiding him at all costs. Which also meant that you denied dinner, saying you weren’t hungry even when your brother persisted.

There was no way in hell you’d eat dinner at the same table as Lando Norris. Not in your own home, at least.

You grabbed an armful of ingredients and set them down on the cupboard beside the stove. Bowls and utensils messily scatter the kitchen island and you’re close to finished with your dinner when a creak of the stairs pulls you out of your peacefulness. Once again, Lando’s the culprit.

“What’re you doing?” He cocks his head to the side at the sight of messy dishes and the sound of jazz quietly playing through the kitchen.

You roll your eyes as you plate your food. “Making dinner.”

“At eleven p.m.?” He slips his phone back in his pocket after checking the time.

“Are you judging me, Norris?”

Lando shrugs. “No, just curious. Carlos made food a few hours ago, but you were too stuck up to join us. And I bet it’s because of me.”

You hate how right he is and you curse yourself for your surprised face, giving away that he was right. His lips curl up at the sides and form into a small smirk. “And? I think it’s obvious I don’t like having you here.”

“I’d say I don’t like being here, but Carlos has been nice to me, so I’m actually enjoying my stay.” Lando’s eyes follow you as you take a seat at the dining table, him choosing to sit opposite of you. After a moment of silence— which you wished would last for as long as Lando’s staying with you— he spoke. “Y’know, I never understood you.”

You can tell he’s taunting you, yet still you choose to look up from your plate with a raised brow. The shape of his toned biceps bulging as his arms cross over his chest and he sits back in the chair distracts you from the small smirk on his face.

“You’ve always had something against me. Ever since karting days.” He muses, eyes interrogating and narrowed on your confused face. “Carlos never told me anything about it, so I assumed it must’ve been a family secret. Maybe the Sainz just hated my family name.”

You snort at the conclusion. “My dad barely knows who you are, don’t flatter yourself.”

“I’m not.” He’s quick to defend himself, his voice monochrome and calm. “I think the only reason you hate me is because you feel inferior to me. Which, if I must say, is completely understandable, given that I am better than you in any way, shape or form.”

You stare at him with disbelief. Was he being serious or was this his way of trying to befriend you? He’s making a complete fool of himself with that little rant of his, and you weren’t even sure what it was about. Half of that was complete nonsense, considering you are the one winning races left, right and centre. “What are you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.” He sneers, leaning closer to you across the table. You feel his gaze on your face, studying and focused, as if he was trying to get under your skin. But to no avail.

You finish up your food and pick your plate up, getting ready to walk away. “You’re delusional, Norris. Last time I checked, you hated me first and for no reason, so there’s no need for you to try and study my behaviour. Maybe you should reflect on yours.”

And with that, you walk back to the kitchen, leaving Lando sitting alone in the dining room, a small smirk plastered on his face.

⟡

The blasting music of the club, paired with the luminescent lights and LEDs lining the ceiling made you that much more excited to get drunk.

The atmosphere of the building was unlike any other place you had attended F1 parties at. It was less formal, therefore more crowded and cosy. The bar caught your eye immediately upon arrival, and you made a beeline to it.

You had every intention to swallow more alcohol than you know can handle, to feel the aching bitterness in the back of your throat from the shots you know you’ll do, to feel your brain get dizzy with your drunkenness.

Ordering a round of shots for you and some other drivers, you made your way to the table your brother chose to occupy. You gently placed the tray with twelve shot glasses on the table, before placing yourself between Max and Daniel.

Each man picks up a shot glass, raising it up in the air with a small salute, before downing it all without a chaser. You put your glass back and noticed one of them untouched.

“Lando, mate.” Charles calls for him, seemingly able to pull the Brit out of his focus on his phone. “You didn’t do a shot.”

Lando shook his brown head of curls. “Don’t wanna.”

Your brother simply shrugged when you made brief eye contact, raising your eyebrows in surprise. Then, you grabbed Lando's shot glass and downed it, bringing it to your lips in a "cheers."

Daniel grinned widely as you placed the glass back, his arm around the back of the sofa as he told you how Lando stopped drinking alcohol a few months ago, after some epiphany about drinking.

You knew that was wrong, because Lando downed each bottle of champagne he had after winning second place to you, especially the race he nearly won in Abu Dhabi right before the break. It felt silly whenever he’d be on the podium with you, because that’s the only time you could really feel his deep hatred for you.

With spurts of champagne escaping his bottle, Lando would spray anyone but you.

It’s not that big of a deal, honestly. You prefer it that way, as your suit doesn’t soak in as much of the smell as it would if Lando contributed to drowning you as a celebration.

Your eyes scan the room, watching all the other drivers having a fun time on the dance floor. Daniel sprung to his feet upon hearing his name fall from your lips, watching as you extended a hand and he took it almost instantly. You turn around and down your third shot before dragging Daniel into the crowd of strangers and drivers, limbs in the air as they dance to the music.

The lack of space on the dance floor forced you to dance a little closer to Daniel. You were intoxicated but not enough to ignore the way his fingers snaked around your waist. Daniel's hands wrapping around you melted your insides to mush, blood pouring to your cheeks and staining them crimson.

The view of you two made Lando’s blood boil.

He hated it. Hated every bit of watching you dance against his ex-teammate, as if it’s some sort of tactic to make Lando pissed. He notices the glimmer in your eye when you look at Daniel and briefly look back at Lando, some feeling of jealousy planting itself in the pit of his stomach. Whatever you’re doing, it’s working.

Lando’s eyebrows sit low on his forehead, crease in the middle of them as he tries his best not to look at you two. He can’t help it, though. You’re in his peripheral vision and his eyes seem to follow you everywhere, seeming to have a mind of their own.

“Oh, fuck no.” Carlos’s Spanish accent rings in Lando’s ears as he watches his best friend stand up and make his way to the dance floor. A small smirk paints itself across Lando’s features, seeing Carlos practically pull Daniel away from you.

Daniel comes back to the table with his tail between his legs, shoulders slumped and head hung low in faux guilt. He downs his second shot before sitting down beside Max.

“Didn’t work?” Max asks, accepting Daniel’s offering of going outside for some air. “I told you he wouldn’t let you.”

Lando hears their conversation as they walk away. Daniel says he’s still got the whole night to convince Carlos that he’s good enough for you, and that thought alone pierces Lando’s chest, for whatever reason.

You notice the absence of Daniel and Max at the table, finally left alone by your older brother. Carlos is protective of you and it’s sweet, but it gets too much. There was no chance you were sleeping with Daniel, but having a little fun doesn’t hurt, right?

Carlos is convinced it does hurt, he’s convinced every guy you’ve ever spoken to wants to hurt you by being so sweet. Maybe that’s why he’s not so adamant you stay away from Lando. He knows Lando seems like he’d do anything to hurt you, but through the eight years of their friendship, Lando hasn’t laid a single hand on you.

Not since karting days, anyway.

You and Lando were wild as children. Evil grins decorating your lips as you got ready to tease each other by pushing one another into the barricades of the track. Karting was fun and took little effort, now that you look back on it, but you were small and it took a toll on you every time Lando would get in your way.

It got so annoying that, one time, you got out of your kart and jumped onto his, strangling him in the process as you tried to sabotage whatever he would have achieved that day.

You learnt not to do that if you wanted to keep your seat in the team. That’s when Lando began having his fun, knowing you couldn’t do anything physically to him anymore. He started poking fun at you, making sure to really get under your skin to the point where your fists were held so tightly your knuckles turned white, but you wouldn’t lunge at him like you used to.

Everyone thought it was something you’ll grow out of, but Lando kept having his fun even after both of you got into Formula One.

You thought he’d mature, but as he once told your brother, he’s happy where he is and seems to have no intention of changing his behaviour with you.

Recently, he’s been reconsidering it.

He thinks about you more than he’d like to admit. Hell, he could never admit it out loud, even if he wanted to. Lando feels as though he’s ruined any chance of you seeing him as anything other than a rival. He doubts you’d want to know him beyond what’s said on his Wikipedia page, anyway.

Not that he’s read yours, or anything. He doesn’t need to. Lando’s known you for enough time to remember the small details. And your brother rambling about you surely added onto the mental notes Lando kept of you.

All it took was to observe you to fall in love.

Lando shakes that thought out of his head, watching as his two friends come back from getting fresh air. Carlos has been talking to Charles, and to Lando, about something to do with the new car for Ferrari, but Lando was far too busy watching the way the skirt of your dress caressed your thighs as your fingers slowly lifted it up in sync to the lyrics of whatever song was playing.

There was no reason for Lando to get up as fast as he did. The other guys at the table looked unamused as Lando made his way to the DJs table, asking if he could play around for a bit. The DJ, clearly shocked that Lando Norris was speaking to him, immediately agreed and let him take over.

First thing Lando did? Change the fucking song.

He couldn’t bear seeing you reveal the tender skin of your thighs to every stranger in this god damned room. He felt as if he deserved to be the only one to see it, even though he wasn’t. Let a boy dream.

Your eyes scanned the room to find the DJs table, confused as to why the song was changed, and when you found it, they rolled to the back of your head. Of course Lando would be behind your ruined fun. When your eyes meet his, you get even more irritated by the dumb smirk on his face. You have half a mind to go wipe it off his face, either with your fist or with your lips. Both would work.

Lando’s eyes follow your figure as he messes around with the songs, his only focus being you and the glimpse of the back of your legs as you sit at the bar. He watches as you order a drink, the bartender winking at you as he places the glass in front of you. Lando rolls his eyes, going back to entertaining the people on the dance floor.

You feel a chill run down your spine, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation going on between you and the bartender. Carlos, as if he had a feeling, comes up from behind you and pulls you away by your arm. This was one of the rare moments you were thankful for his interruption.

He brings you back to the table and you sit between Max and Daniel again, watching as they down another round of shots they ordered. You quickly finished your margarita, joining the men and taking a shot glass into your hands.

“Slow down,” Carlos warns, a hint of worry tainting his stern voice. You look right at him as you press the glass to your lips before throwing your head back and downing it. Carlos rolls his eyes before doing the same.

It's another hour of you sitting by the table and talking to them about whatever topics you decided to dissect. It started off with Daniel asking about your last season, Max continuing and somehow talking about his cats, Charles started rambling about his interest in piano and you rambled about Carlos’ inability to cook pasta without leaving it rock solid (to which Charles could relate.)

“You wanna get some fresh air?” Daniel nudges you with his elbow, your eyes following Max and him as they get up. You rise to your feet and Carlos is too drunk to mind you leaving with his two friends, so you quickly swivel between the drunk strangers and outside through the backdoor. You’re sure that’s not allowed, but Max opened it for you and you couldn’t resist.

Daniel leans back against the brick wall of the neighbouring building while Max stands by the door, his foot keeping it open so you’re not locked out. You squat down and copy Danny, leaning back against the wall with your head raised high.

Max is the first to break the silence. “Why’s Carlos so protective of you?”

“Dunno.” You shrug, the too-many shots finally getting to your head. “He’s just… I don’t know. I guess it’s what a big brother does.”

“Right.” Daniel nods, yet his head still cocks to the side. “Why doesn’t he do that with Lando?”

You snort at the question. “Does Lando dance with me or wrap his arms around my waist in a crowd of strangers?”

“Well, no. But he looks at you like he’s in love, or something.” Max points out. You can’t tell if it’s his drunken state that’s causing him to speak such nonsense, so once again, you can’t help but giggle at that.

“Right.”

A new silence settles in and you’re enjoying the fresh air, feeling how the coldness of winter is slowly creeping away and the warmth of spring replaces it.

The door is pushed open and Max nearly falls on you when Lando bursts outside. He looks at Daniel, then Max, and when his frantic eyes finally land on you, his gaze softens. “Get up.”

Your mouth opens to reply with denial, but the look on Lando’s face as he holds the door open for you makes you immediately rise to your feet. When you approach him, he softly grabs your arm and pulls you inside, while Daniel and Max give each other a knowing look.

“Where are we going?” You yell for Lando to hear over the loud music. He leads you both to the table where he hands you your purse and continues to pull you with him. “Lando!”

“Home.” Is all he says, and he’s dragging you outside through the front entrance, making his way to his car. You don’t protest, intrigued with the igniting feeling of his touch on your skin. It sends sparks through your body, making you more dizzy than the alcohol did.

He opens the passenger seat door for you and helps you in. You’re about to reach for the seatbelt when you feel Lando reach over and buckle you up, his chest at eye-level and you can’t help but catch a peek of his bare chest through his unbuttoned shirt. Lando notices your eyes soak in the view of him, your eyebrows raising just a tad before you look away.

When Lando gets into the driver's seat, he turns to you as if he wanted to say anything, but when he notices you looking out the window, seemingly upset, he drops it and starts the car.

The car ride is quiet for the first five minutes, before he breaks the silence. “You shouldn’t have drank so much.”

Your already annoyed self turns to face him. “You dragged me home early and now you’re parenting me?”

Lando sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m not parenting you. I’m just… looking out for you.” The look on his face wants to seem like he’s kidding or teasing, but shades of his genuine feelings shine through.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” You ask, trying your best to hold back a laugh. “You’re so set on ruining any fun I have, yet you’re looking out for me.”

Lando feels his chest tighten, so he makes up an excuse. “Your brother asked me to.”

“Of course he did.”

That wasn’t entirely a lie. Carlos did ask Lando to drive you home before you even got to the club, that’s why Lando wasn’t drinking. He bullshitted some excuse to Daniel about how he realised drinking is not his thing, knowing damn well he wanted to get wasted the second he saw you carrying back those shots with a little sway in your hips. But he figured getting drunk by looking at your body was better than alcohol, anyway.

Carlos didn’t ask Lando to look out for you. His request was to drive you home, so Lando’s not sure why he’s helping you out of the car or opening the front door for you, or why he’s following you into your room.

“You can tell Carlos I’m capable of getting into bed myself, he didn’t need to ask you to tuck me in.” You roll your eyes, pulling off your jacket and dropping it on the armchair. Lando stands in the doorway watching you get into bed.

“He cares about you.” Lando points out, slowly making his way into your room and leaning back against your desk, standing right in front of your bed. “Maybe start to appreciate that.”

“Oh, please.” You plop back against your pillows. “Did Carlos also ask you to lecture me?”

“No,” Lando shrugs, your eyes following his rising shoulders and gazing lower to the unbuttoned shirt. “I’m just saying.”

“You could try shutting up once in a while.” Your eyes roll into the back of your head. If he keeps talking, you’re sure you’ll either punch him or yourself. Being in the same room with the person you hate yet crave is so unbearable. Especially when the person in question is Lando.

“Don’t wanna.”

Lando’s gaze burned into you as he stood there, his eyes challenging and lips pulled into a teasing smirk. Your eyes held contact with his, the pit in your stomach growing with each second. The air felt like it suddenly disappeared from your room and you could tell Lando felt it, too.

“You should.” You finally say. “You’d look smarter.”

Lando’s mouth opens with a quiet chuckle, his Adam’s apple rising and falling, and hypnotising you. The pit in your stomach grows as your eyes continue exploring his facial features. His jaw is so sharp, yet so delicate, and the way it pairs with his fierce eyes makes you weak in the knees.

Your eyes are focused on his lips when they part. “If it bothers you so much, why don’t you come over here and shut me up yourself?”

Lando finds it amusing how your pretty little lips part in surprise after the words leave his mouth. It’s interesting to him how much you want him, despite making it so clear that he’s the last person you wanna be talking to.

Lando’s enjoying this, meanwhile you have no idea how to feel.

There’s a weird feeling in your chest, apart from your rapidly beating heart. The sudden change in Lando’s eyes after he says those words makes you that much more nervous. You’re not even sure why you’re nervous. Maybe it’s the piercing gaze of his that burns into your skin, or maybe it’s the fact that your legs seem to have a mind of their own, as you stand up.

His eyes follow your figure as you approach him, mainly focused on that sway in your hips that he’s been addicted to since the start of the night. He thinks it should be criminal to look that good in your little black dress, only so he could be the one to punish you for it.

When you’ve stopped two steps in front of Lando, his calloused hands find your waist and he pulls you against him. You feel the warmth seeping in through his button-up and it clashes so perfectly with the chills he’s sent down your spine.

Lando watches as you lean in, closer and closer, your faces mere inches apart. And when he expects you to kiss him, you look him dead in the eyes and say, “get out of my room.”

The shocked look on his face sends satisfaction through your body and the way it slowly falls into disappointment makes you wonder what he expected of you.

His hands slowly slip away from your waist and he pulls himself away from you, not sparing a glance your way as he closes the door behind himself.

⟡

The next morning is everything you expected it to be— awkward, silent, uncomfortable.

Your place in the kitchen and Lando’s place in the living room seem to be so separate, yet it feels like all your thoughts are floating around in a bubble above your heads. You keep stealing glances of Lando, hiding your gaze from him, and he keeps watching you shamelessly.

He doesn’t care anymore about your rivalry. It bothers him that he had you right there, practically in his hands, yet he managed to somehow lose that. And he’ll do whatever it takes to make you his.

“When is Carlos coming back?” He yells from the couch in front of the TV. Your eyes rise from your cereal bowl and lock onto his.

Both your shoulders rise with a shrug. “Dunno. I think he went to Charles’ for the weekend.”

Lando turns back to the TV, a new thought brewing in his mind and his hypothetical bubble pops with the idea. He has a whole weekend with you and that’s enough time, he reckons.

Lando turns his head back to you when you speak. “When are you leaving?”

It comes out an awful lot more rude than you intended it to be, but it’s just the way you’re used to talking to Lando.

He repeats your action and shrugs. “Sunday, maybe.”

“Cool.”

His green eyes watch as you get up off of the dining chair and make your way to the kitchen sink, that addicting sway of your hips turning his mind into mush. His legs work faster than his mind and next thing he knows, he’s in the kitchen with you.

You see from the corner of your eye him opening the fridge and taking a can of diet coke out, and when he walks past you, he makes sure to gently touch your waist as if he was softly guiding you out of his way. “Sorry.”

Lando wished he could’ve seen the look on your face when his hips softly brushed past your behind, his fingers barely gripping your waist, yet the feeling of his warm touch managed to send a million bolts of heat through your body.

You stand there, wide eyed, your slightly panicked gaze following Lando’s figure as he walks away and back to his spot on the couch. He doesn't seem affected by that at all and you choose to ignore the flutter in your chest when he looks back at you again.

⟡

The sky had changed colours by the time you got out of the shower. The subtle shades of pink and orange turned into black, slowly disrupting the peace of turquoise that you loved to watch.

Lando noticed the change too, beginning to miss your anxious presence in the living room. He shuts off the television and places the remote on the coffee table, leaving all of his other stuff scattered along the glass surface.

His heavy footsteps weigh on the stairs, but you’re far too focused on your skincare to hear anything other than the soft music playing from your phone.

You’re trying your best to focus on anything but Lando.

He’s the only thing on your mind ever since he came here. You’d like to say that you’ve only thought of him romantically since the thing that happened in your bedroom last night, but you’d be lying to yourself. Lando has been on your mind in the romantic way since you both were sixteen, the one time you both got a podium and he gave you a toothy smile, the look on his face enough to make you forget about your rivalry.

And his stay here, as much as you can tolerate it, is slowly making you lose your sanity.

He’s been touching you gently all day, playing it off as if you were in his way, when there was clearly enough room for him to step by. And not to mention the use of petnames. Hearing ‘darling’ fall from his lips made your knees buckle each time.

You decided to shower after he scooted closer to you on the couch, his thigh brushing up against yours, the fabric of your satin shorts riding up just enough to make Lando’s mind reel.

The shower was good enough of a distraction, as you began to focus more on yourself than the man in the house.

And just as you settle in with the fact that this is your new life for the next few days, the bathroom door swings open and Lando peeps in. The sound of a slap echoes through the room as his palm finds his eyes. “I am so sorry.”

“Lando, what the fuck! Get out!” You throw a random towel at him, the white fabric perfectly landing to cover his head.

The curly haired man quickly scrambles to close the door, yelling sincere apologies because, despite seeming like it, this wasn’t another one of his teases. He’s still so lost around your house and he thought this was his bathroom, but turns out that’s far from it.

Despite that being horribly embarrassing for the both of you, Lando couldn’t rid his mind of the image— your hair falling so beautifully on your shoulders, your back dripping with the last few drops of water, the white towel hugging your body so nicely, leaving little to the imagination as it tightly wrapped around your ass.

And the image of your breasts, once again pushed up and so visible in the reflection of the mirror, suddenly made all the blood in his body target one specific location.

It takes Lando two doors to find his bedroom, and he locks the door the second he steps inside. He doesn’t waste time unbuttoning his shorts, his hands quickly pushing them down to his thighs. Lando’s back rests against the pillows on his bed, eyes squinting shut to try and preserve the vibrant image of your body as his hand tugs down his pre-cum soaked boxers.

His slender fingers wrap around his length as his mind completely warps the whole event that just happened.

Lando imagines himself stumbling into the bathroom, you standing there and looking at yourself in the mirror. Instead of you rushing him to leave, you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the bathroom. Instinctively, his hands wrapped around your waist, but you softly guided his left hand down to your entrance.

Lando can’t help but whimper as he imagines how wet you’d be for him. His hand slowly pumps his cock, applying pressure from time to time, eyes still glued shut.

He imagines you peeling the towel off— agonisingly slow just like the tease you are— to reveal those beautiful breasts he’s been dreaming of seeing. He feels a shock go through his body as his hand speeds up, an orgasm soon to flood his mind.

So he makes the most of it.

Lando imagines himself pulling you in and kissing your lips, fingers still softly touching you down there. Multiple moans and whimpers leave his mouth as he imagines all he’d do to you, and everything he’d let you do to him. He doesn’t hold back at all, your name falling from his lips without any fear of you hearing him.

And you do.

You hear every single moan and whimper, and the sounds of him masturbating to the image of you. For the past eight minutes, your ear has been pressed to the surface of your wooden door, trying to hear every sound he makes, no matter how loud or quiet.

With the final pump of his hand, Lando comes undone, strings of his cum coating the surface of his abdomen and hands.

You hear a deep, throaty groan leave his mouth and the deep breaths that follow after, and you can only imagine how pretty he must look with his curls stuck to his forehead, eyes closed shut and mouth parted in pleasure.

That image alone was enough to make your knees buckle and a certain warmth fill your belly.

It takes you another twenty minutes to gather the courage and walk downstairs. You decide to distract yourself and go grab a bottle of water from the fridge, in an attempt to calm yourself.

The clock on the wall shows 2:43am.

You didn’t realise you spent nearly four hours in the shower, going to such drastic lengths to avoid being in the same room as Lando. And even that didn't work.

Somehow, whether on purpose or by accident, Lando is always where you are.

As you grab yourself a cold bottle of water, you remember when, back in your karting days, Lando got incredibly upset about his DNF. He was stomping around in his racer room and you heard all of it through the thin drywall separating you.

Next thing you knew, Lando had swung your door open, entered your room and slammed the door shut. All he did for the following twenty minutes was sit in your chair, staring at the floor with his eyebrows halfway down his face. You had never seen him so upset, so naturally that made you worry.

He ignored you asking if he was okay and simply sat there, looking at one spot as if it had been at fault for his crash into turn six.

That moment felt like it was a change.

After that, you spent more time together. Just in silence. And it reminded you of earlier today, Lando sitting on the couch when you sat down next to him and both of you watched the TV, just in silence.

Heavy footsteps cut you off from your train of thought, a gulp of water getting caught in your throat when you feel Lando walk through the kitchen.

“Can’t sleep?”

You’re not sure what this new feeling is, but there’s a warmth that fills your body at the sound of his low and raspy voice. You turn towards him, your eyes slightly wider than usual. It doesn’t help that he’s shirtless.

You watch his bare chest flex as he leans on the kitchen island, watching you with piercing green eyes. Quickly blinking, you turn your gaze to anywhere but him. “Yeah. You?”

His burning eyes watch you standing there, the bottle of water still in your hands. You feel yourself growing more nervous at the intense stare he holds on you, your hand slightly trembling.

Lando nods, his thick neck constricting in some parts, making your mouth run dry with how badly you want to kiss it. “Same.”

“Do you want a drink?” You ask, motioning to the water bottle in your hand. Lando briefly nods, his amused eyes still focused on the crimson shade that’s infiltrating your cheeks.

You turn around, your back facing him so you don’t show how red you got from his green eyes boring into you. You grab a glass from the highest cupboard, your shirt lifting enough to reveal your black, silk sleeping shorts that are a bit too short, causing Lando’s eyes to wander, as if he hadn’t already checked you out multiple times today.

With a trembling hand, you give him the glass and he smirks at your nervousness. He takes it from you, his fingers lingering for an extra moment before letting go. His eyes stayed on you as he took a few gulps of the water before finally looking away. You caught yourself watching the way the muscles on his arms swelled as he moved, almost hypnotising you.

Lando catches your fixated gaze again, but you’re too busy ogling at his biceps to notice how intensely he looks at you. Not that you hadn’t noticed it before.

“Thank you.” He says, handing you the glass and watching your fingers wrap around it, his mind travelling back to what he was thinking of upstairs.

You nod as if to say ‘no problem’, a tight-lipped smile on your lips. You stand there for an extra few seconds, your eyes stuck on Lando’s as you bite the inside of your cheek. After realising how weird that was, you turn around and place the glass in the sink. Lando expects you turn back around, but his eyebrows knit together when you stand with your back to him for a bit too long.

You just can’t bring yourself to turn back around, knowing you’d break under the weight of only his gaze. It’s already been too long of a moment with him in the kitchen, and you should have gone upstairs the second you heard him come downstairs, because whatever he came here for isn’t the only thing he’ll be leaving with.

Lando watches you, so still and so nervous. He can practically feel the anxiety bouncing off your skin and that excites him. He feels his voice rumbling in his throat before he even thinks to say anything. “Turn around.”

The stern tone to his unusually deep voice made you shiver, so you almost immediately turned around, eyes on the ground. Lando makes his way around the kitchen island to stand in front of you. You see his black Nike socks come into view and the flutter in your chest multiplies by a million.

Lando places his pointer finger under your chin, slowly raising your face to look at him. When your eyes finally lock onto his, you feel the palm of his hand cup your cheek and his thumb softly caresses it. His other hand softly wraps around your waist and pulls you in closer, your arms subconsciously wrapping around his neck.

You don’t notice how both of you start leaning in, little by little, the distance between your faces growing smaller. There’s an uncertainty in your chest, but Lando makes it go away when his lips part and he stops moving closer.

“Why haven’t you told me to stop?”

You look up at him, noticing the genuine look on his face. You lean in closer, your breath warming Lando’s lips as he anticipates your next move. He feels the soft pressure of your lips on his and then you pull away.

“Maybe I want you to kiss me.”

“I won’t be able to stop if I do, baby.”

You push back a few of the curls that are sticking to his forehead. “Then don’t.”

Lando only needed to hear the confirmation of what he already knew, and his lips immediately clashed with yours again. He feels your fingers softly tangle in his hair, your mouth parting enough for his tongue to slip in.

His fingers dig into your hips, his head moving to the side and deepening the kiss. His teeth softly pull on your bottom lip, earning a quiet whimper to escape your mouth.

“Feel me,” he mumbles against your lips, still sloppily making out with you in the kitchen of you and your brother’s shared home. Fuck. Carlos would kill Lando if he knew what was happening right now.

When you don’t touch him, he grabs one of your hands and slowly traces it down his chest. “Feel how hard I am.”

You bring your hand down, gentle fingers wrapping around his clothed dick. He’s practically throbbing in your hand. When you softly add pressure, he moans.

“Don’t do that, baby.”

You smirk against his lips. “And what if I do?”

When you palm him again, Lando grabs your wrist and tears it away from himself. “Don’t.”

The tone of his voice was enough to make your insides turn to mush. So aggressive, so mean, so hungry. Hunger, that’s what it was.

Lando was hungry for you, for the taste of you, feel of you. Ever since he saw you in that little dress, hips swaying and all. He felt himself twitch again just at the memory of it.

“What if I want to?” You push him further, your hand now resting on his abs, slowly tracing the faint happy trail down to his waistband. “What if I want to touch you?”

Lando’s hand came to cup your face while the other stayed on your hip. He softly snaked his hand around your head, grabbing a fistful of your hair and yanking your head back. Softly enough as to not hurt you, aggressively enough to make your knees buckle.

A mischievous smile painted itself across your lips. Lando kissed you harshly again. “Are you really this eager for my dick?”

The only answer you gave was your lips on his neck. The skin was warm under your mouth, tongue swirling on the tan before softly sucking on it. You kissed your way down his chest, earning approval from Lando just by the sounds he made. He was so vocal and so loud.

When you reach the waistband of his boxers, the Calvin Klein sticking out above his sweatpants, Lando thinks you’ll stop. But you prove him so wrong when you pull down his sweatpants, fingers tucking themselves behind the waistband of his boxers. You look at him from beneath your lashes, the look alone making him drip pre-cum before you’ve even properly touched him.

“Don’t tease me, baby.” He orders and you follow. You tug down his boxers, his erection flinging up and hitting his happy trail. He groans at the feeling when your fingers wrap around him, stroking his shaft a bit before you start kissing back down his stomach.

You look up at the heaving mess of a man above you, his hands braced on the kitchen island as he tries his best not to show how desperately he needs you, but failing miserably.

“Is this okay?” You ask, hand still softly pumping his throbbing dick.

The curly haired man rapidly nods. “That’s perfect, baby, go ahead.”

Lando swears he’s never felt so fucking turned on as the moment when you started licking up from the base of his cock, ending at the tip and taking him into your mouth.

You start moving your head, taking as much of him as you can into your mouth and pumping the rest of his length with your hand. Lando feels his tip hitting the back of your throat, adding a tinge of extra pleasure to your warm and wet mouth’s feel.

You felt him twitch in your mouth as your tongue and lips worked their magic in making the dominant man squirm at the touch of you. “Ah, fuck.” He moans, his hand coming down to wrap around your hair. “Just like that, darling.”

The nickname makes you let out a soft moan of your own, the vibration sending a sort of shock down Lando’s dick. You felt yourself getting wetter, your thighs trying to rub together and ease the tension between your legs.

“I’ll take care of you,” Lando heaved, tightening his grip on your hair as he subconsciously started thrusting into your mouth. You feel tears prick your eyes as you gag at the feeling of his dick deep-throating you. “You’re being so fucking good for me, baby– fuck.”

Your whimpers vibrate through his dick and you feel his hips hitching, telling you that he’s close. But you don’t pull away and Lando notices. A smirk grows on his face when you let him continue to face-fuck you, his high soon to paint your throat.

A loud and strained moan leaves Lando’s lips, you felt a warmth fill your mouth. Lando looks down at you as he pulls out and you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth full of the sweetest man you’ve ever tasted.

“Swallow,” he orders, his fingers harshly hooking under your chin. You swallow and he intensely looks at you, his eyes holding a strict glare at you. “All of it.”

Fuck. If you said that’s not one of the hottest things you’ve heard him say, you’d be lying.

When you do as told, he cups your face and pulls you up with his other arm. He doesn’t hesitate closing the gap between your mouths, feeling the taste of himself mixed with your saliva makes his head reel.

The moment is spoiled by a ringing phone in the living room. Lando groans against your mouth when he realises that it’s his.

“Go to my room and wait for me,” he mumbles. A whine leaves your lips as he pulls you away and you watch as Lando tucks himself back into his boxers before picking up the phone call.

You make your way up the stairs as quietly as possible and when you enter Lando’s room, it’s not exactly what you had imagined it to be— you expected it to be messy, clothes scattered on the floor and bed unmade. It shocked you to see his clothes nicely folded on his chair and his bed neat.

The duvet is soft against your thighs as you plop down and lean back against the pillows. The same pillows he was sat against when you heard him earlier, the same pillows your face will be nuzzled into as he–

The door opens as soon as you think of him. Lando walks in, his curls messily sticking to his forehead as a reminder of how hot and bothered you had him downstairs.

“Who was that?” You tilt your head to the side when Lando walks closer to you, putting his phone down onto the nightstand.

He lays down next to you and pulls you to sit on his thighs. “Doesn’t matter.”

You had begun to miss the taste of his lips against yours. You watched as Lando’s eyes trace your features, lingering on your lips, green eyes following the dip in your cupid's bow before he kisses you again.

Lando’s lips taste better the second time you kiss him, and the third, and the fourth, and the many more times that make you end up with your back against the mattress and Lando’s face between your thighs.

You closed your eyes shut when Lando’s lips made contact with your clit, softly sucking on it and nipping at it with his teeth. His tongue swirled around it, sending shocks through your body.

Stars twinkle on the inside of your eyelids and you arch your back when Lando teases your hole with his finger, before pushing it in agonisingly slow. He fingers you with a pace that brings you closer to your high, and when you’re about to fall apart under his touch, Lando pulls away.

All that pleasant feeling is suddenly gone from your body and you lean up on your elbows to look at Lando. “What the fuck?”

Lando laughs at your disappointment as he licks his fingers clean. “You didn’t think I’d let you cum not on my cock?”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Thought you’re nicer than that.”

Lando helps you put your clothes back on before plopping down to lay beside you and pull you into a tight cuddle. “Then you must not know me at all.”

⟡

Early morning sunshine beamed through the gap of the closed curtain and it blinded you the second you opened your eyes.

The first thing you remember feeling was warm. Overwhelmingly warm. You never sleep with thick sheets or anything that could make you wake up uncomfortably hot, so this was unusual.

The second thing you noticed was a curly head of hair on your chest.

You were annoyed at first, him being the source of the annoying heat. But then, as your fingers softly played with his curls, you grew a smile on your face.

His hair was soft. It felt like the softest thing in the world.

Lando still seemed fast asleep, so you decided to try and sleep some more, too. The second you closed your eyes, Lando switched positions and ended up spooning you again.

His lips pressed up against the back of your neck as he said, “morning, baby.”

You put your arms on his, him tightly hugging your waist, and smile a bit. “Morning, Lan.” You feel him nuzzle his head into your neck and hold you tight, planning to stay in this bed all day.

That is, until you hear the front door open and Carlos shuffling around in the kitchen. Lando freezes when Carlos’ spanish accent echoes through the room. “Y/N?”

You turn around and pull your lips into a tight line with an apologetic look on your face, before kissing him on the lips. Lando chases after you when you pull away and brings you in for a few more kisses. His arms still wrap around you and he pulls you into his chest. “Don’t go.”

“I have to.” You kiss one of the moles on his bare chest, softly tracing his side with your fingers. “I’d stay if I could.”

“I know.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s such a gentle action that it makes your stomach twist with the notion that this is probably the last moment you’ll have with him like this, before going back to hating each other.

Lando’s arms pull away from your back, yet his biceps still hold you caged in his embrace. You feel him fumbling with the bracelets he likes to wear. He takes one off— a McLaren one he got gifted by a fan, with his racer number neatly carved into the brown, wooden bead that’s in the middle of the orange beads— and flips you to your side.

You turn around to watch as he loosens the bracelet before softly slipping it around your wrist and tightening it, his fingers gripping your wrist in a way that makes your insides turn.

“So you remember me. And this.” He explains.

You smile. “I could never forget this. Or you.”

Lando laughs. His chest vibrates with a laughter that you feel in your spine. “Sappy, much?”

You roll your eyes, playfully. “Fuck you.”

And you’re back to normal— the banter, the eye-rolls, the annoying presence of Lando. It all comes rushing back.

When you go downstairs, you greet Carlos with a tight hug and pray he can’t smell the lingering scent of Lando’s cologne that’s managed to soak into your clothes.

“Morning.” You say. Carlos nods his head before turning back around to make himself some food. “How was it at Charles’?”

“Boring,” he rolled his eyes playfully, obviously joking. “I’m surprised you didn’t wreck the house by being alone with Lando for a day.”

You shrug, seated on the island in the very same spot Lando was leaning against in the early hours of the morning. “I didn’t even notice he was here, honestly.”

You couldn’t be more of a liar in that moment. And Carlos knew that. He noticed the bracelet on your wrist, but more importantly — the faint hickeys halfway hiding behind the collar of your shirt.

Your brother’s lucky his back was to you, so you didn’t notice the slight smirk on his face. “Is that so?”

“Yeah.” You look down at your feet, trying to come up with literally anything else to talk about.

Carlos shrugs. “That’s nice.”

Lando’s footsteps echo through the kitchen as he makes his way through the room. He doesn’t spare a glance at you, but gently squeezes your knee as he walks past and when Carlos isn’t watching.

“Are we leaving tonight?” He asks, plopping himself on one of the dining room chairs.

Carlos plates the scrambled eggs and toast he just made. “Yeah. I assume you’ve already packed your bags?”

Lando gives you a look and you look at him, a small smirk on your face. Lando can’t help but bite his lip to hide the smile creeping up on his face. “Yeah, of course.”

“I have a few more things to pack up, but I’m mostly done.” You lie, watching as Carlos brings his breakfast to the living room.

The rest of the day is spent frantically packing, Lando sneaking in a few small kisses when Carlos isn’t looking, and trying to hide it as best as possible from him.

Little did you two know, Carlos was in on the secret.

© landopoet.

[vrystalius]

Hello hello, I was wondering if you could please write a story (Short scenario) with the Hashiras and maybe the three upper moons. Where the reader aka their S/O had a small fight and is currently ignoring them but then she needs something from them that makes here go there like "Can you please open this for me/help me with this". I just think it would be cute to see their reaction to the reader being all flustered about having to ask them for help.

(Take your time and stay safe i luv you~) 💛❤️💛❤️

Giving your boyfriend the silent treatment…

…until you need help opening something. (Includes both Hashira and Upper Moons)

Pairing: Sanemi, Kyojuro, Gyomei, Giyu, Tengen, Kokushibo, Douma, Akaza x fem!human!reader

Sanemi Shinazugawa

Sanemi would grow incredibly frustrated when you use the silent treatment against him. He’d try to ignore you as well by crossing his arms over his chest and sit in a different room, back facing the door at all times. He can’t stop thinking about you brooding and being upset with him, wich in return, makes him even more angry! Gods, you’re infuriating sometimes.

But once you come up to him and ask him to open a new jar of jam, he’d try to look mad, even though he wasn’t.

“You sure got some nerve to ask me now.”

He tries to show you that he still is kinda pissed with you, but still loves you. Sanemi would grumble about your timing and attitude from before while wrestling with the lid. After struggling for multiple minutes and failing, he got upset again and just gave it back to you, grumbling.

“Ask someone else, damnit! Don’t annoy me.”

Kyojuro Rengoku

Arguments are the worst for him. Kyojuro will feel and look like a distraught puppy who just got denied love for the rest of his life. He understands that you need space and will provide it, but the silent treatment is really breaking his heart. Kyojuro would sometimes try to start a conversation by asking about you what you’re doing or how you’re feeling.

He will feel absolutely delighted when you talk to him again. Of course he’d open a bottle for you! Happily so!

“Give it to me, I got it!”

Kyojuro popped the lid with ease and handed the bottle back to you, giving you puppy eyes and a bright smile. You seriously can’t ignore him anymore, it’s just too sad to see him depressed…

“Oh! You’re talking to me again! I’ve missed you, my flame!”

Gyomei Himejima

Although he’s not fond of your methods of resolving conflict and considers them a little childish, Gyomei will oblige, for now.

He will give you the same treatment you’re giving him, but will still remain around your person. Gyomei’ll silently meditate or pray while you continue your antics, being just as quiet as you are. He’d ponder about arguments he could deliver to you to break your silence and resolve this issue, but before he could come up with anything, you come up to him with a jar of honey. After you ask him to open it for you, Gyomei would softly smile and take the jar.

“Of course, my pearl.”

He opened it with ease and handed it back to you, but before you could go back to whatever you were doing, Gyomei’d speak up again.

“How about we resolve our argument now? I do not want to continue to fight.”

Giyu Tomioka

Giyu would unintentionally give you the silent treatment after arguments, and you decided to give one back. After noticing the lack of conversations and the sound of your voice, he’d feel more sad and try to avoid you all together to avoid even more conflict or your silent side glances. Giyu jumps slightly when you ask him to open a jar of fermented foods. He was incredibly surprised that you’d want to talk to him.

“Mhm. Give it.”

He… struggled with opening it. He tried around for two more minutes until he managed to open it with a spoon and using 80% of his strength. He feels embarrassed for failing opening something for you.

“You’re welcome.”

Tengen Uzui

How unflashy of you to ignore him like this. Do you know how bratty you look like? Sometimes he just wants to stick out his tongue at you when you’re not looking. Tengen would sulk and complain to the other girls about you, but Hinatsuru, Makio and Suma stick to you and your petty silent treatment, but they’d stick to you and would ignore him as well. You’re all ganging up on him at this point.

But once you come back to him and ask him for help opening your favourite drink, Tengen would feign being helpful.

“Gimme that, I’ll open it for you, beautiful~”

He’d open the glass for you and then proceed to chug everything down in one go, right in front of you while making sure to stay out of your reach.

“That’s what you get for being bratty!”

(He was not allowed back into the bedroom that night)

Kokushibo

You are being very immature. Kokushibo can give you the same silent treatment you are giving him, and he will outlast you by far. He will act very nonchalant about you ignoring him and will stop attempting making conversation after two tries. Kokushibo would return to his training or meditation, or sometimes even go on long missions to punish you even more for acting this petty.

Once you come back to him and ask him to open a jar of jam for you, Kokushibo will just stare you down silently.

“…..”

He proceeded to give you the silent treatment and not open the jar for you. You were left to fend for yourself. But at somepoint, Kokushibo could not watch you struggling to open the jar by using a sharp knife in hopes to get the lid loose. He snatched the jar out of your hands and opened it with ease.

“Here. Take it. Don’t try that again, you will injure yourself.”

Douma

Your silent treatment is very entertaining to Douma. Is this your way to punish him? How funny! He will try everything to make you break your silence by annoying you. Douma will nuzzle into your neck, kiss your most sensitive spots, whine into your ear, complain about your behaviour, poke against your cheek and pinch your skin. C’mon, do something with him! Anything! Stop ignoring him! Douma just kept following you around, whining around like a child.

Finally, you he saw you struggling with opening a jar of tea herbs and offered to help.

“Need help with that, lotus?”

Douma snatched the jar out of your hand and opened in a matter of seconds, but didn’t hand it back. He wanted you to say “I love you” before he hands it back. You gave in while heavily rolling your eyes, but Douma wasn’t satisfied with that. After a back and forth, you finally satisfied him by saying “I love you my dearest, lovely Douma” in a sincere tone. In his eyes, he won your silent treatment game.

“I won! Awww, why do you look so mad? Here, take your herbs back…. No thank you? What, are you ignoring me again?! Come ooooonnnn…”

Akaza

He was hurt and slightly scared by your silent treatment. Are you planning to leave him? Akaza would understand that. He’s rough, angry, a demon, prideful, not good with expressing his thoughts… the list of his flaws go on. Your silence is making him incredibly nervous and he let his nervous energy out during training and against the walls of the infinity castle until his knuckles bleed.

Then, finally, you approach Akaza with a problem: you can’t open your jar of candies. He felt himself smile slightly at your defeated face.

“So now you need me? Hm.”

Akaza casually tried slipping the lid off, but it was stuck. He felt his pride crumble bit by bit with everytime he tried opening the lid and failed. His anger rose and he slammed the jar against the corner of the wall, shattering the top of the glas jar off. The glass fell in onto your feet.

“… There.”

💠

This was one of my favourite requests so far! Thank you so much for requesting!! I’m currently working on How the Upper Moons would react to your affection, similar to what I posted with the hashira, so I was kinda switching back and forth between this and the other fic. Somehow, when I feel stressed, I’m the most creative and productive xD

Also, I absolutely love reading all of your comments and reposts. Some made me laugh out loud in public, so thank you for that!

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!! <3

Take care of yourselves <33 I appreciate you all.

[azzibuckets]

want you for myself [paige bueckers]

paige bueckers x fem!reader

summary: some cute fluff where paige gets jealous of all the attention her brother is getting from you

a/n: i kinda rushed this so😭 it didn’t turn out the way i wanted

word count: 1.3k

masterlist

Normally, Paige loved how good you were with Drew. How whenever he started talking about school or basketball, you always raptly paid attention, asking questions and making jokes. She loved how gentle you were with him, how when he was being too loud you always managed to bring his energy down to a more appropriate level without yelling at him.

But right now, she couldn’t help but feel annoyed at how focused you were on Drew when you were supposed to be focused on her.

“And Dad bought me three new skins for my birthday! Here, let me show you all of them.” Drew scrambled to find his iPad, and for what seemed like the millionth time, Paige leaned into you, tugging your shirt sleeve at the elbow.

“Can we go now?” she whined. “You said we would watch the wolves game together.”

“Just give me a few more minutes,” you whispered back, not even bothering to look at her. “Let me see Drew’s skins.”

Paige loudly huffed. She was bored out of her mind. “The game’s starting in five minutes, you know,” she urged, widening her eyes to show her eagerness.

“I know, you just said that two minutes ago. You go on up first, I’ll be there in a few,” you said dismissively before enthusiastically throwing yourself into yet another conversation with Drew about Fortnite.

Grumbling under her breath, Paige went up the stairs, making sure to aggressively stomp to get her impatience across. When she reached the top, she turned around, but you didn’t seem to have noticed her attitude at all, eyes totally glued to Drew’s screen.

The Timberwolves vs Mavericks game started, but Paige couldn’t enjoy it without you. Her annoyance grew as she heard you and her little brother’s raucous laughs echoing from the basement. She clenched her jaw, wondering how you were more interested childish things like Fortnite (as if she hadn’t played that game for hours every night the past month) than a basketball game with your very sexy girlfriend.

Paige was able to ignore her frustrations momentarily and get lost in the game, but when Anthony Edwards scored a buzzer-beater three to end the first quarter and she jumped up and down, instinctively going to grab you out of excitement, she realized again that you still hadn’t come up. With a groan, she headed back downstairs.

This time, you and Drew were playing on the Nintendo, both of you fully zoned in on building your Minecraft world. “Hey.” You felt a flick on your head and turned around to see a grumpy Paige. “You just missed Ant’s best moment of the season,” she declared, hoping you’d feel disappointed at having missed the highlight.

But you only said, “Oh, damn,” before turning back to the screen.

Paige sighed and decided to try again. “He shot from full court to put the wolves up at the end of first,” she prodded, hoping you’d get excited. But you merely nodded before turning to Drew and asking if he wanted to switch to creative mode.

Paige switched tactics. “Drew,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I think your screen time is up.”

Drew wrinkled his eyebrow, not tearing his gaze from the TV. “I don’t have a screen time.”

Paige stepped in front of the TV, forcing both of you to finally look at her. “Do either of you want ice cream?” she tried, smiling hopefully. “I’ll drive us to Baskin Robbin’s.”

“I’m still pretty full from lunch,” you said, “but thanks babe.”

“Yeah, me too,” Drew agreed. “Can you move now?”

Paige begrudgingly moved aside, jaw tightened as she grinded her teeth. Returning back upstairs, she watched the rest of the NBA game in a brooding silence. She felt slightly immature for being jealous of the attention her brother was receiving from you, but she’d had a long day and all she wanted was to be in your arms, watching her favorite team play.

During dinner, Paige stayed quiet as you and Drew continued your conversation about whatever new game you’d moved onto playing. You were totally oblivious to her irritation of being neglected, thinking she was just sleepy. Paige perked up after dinner, thinking Drew would fall into a food coma and escape to his room, but instead he insisted on showing you two the clothes he’d bought recently.

“I saved the best for last,” Drew announced after twenty minutes of giving you two a detailed and intricate fashion show. He ran to the bathroom, then quickly reappeared in a neat black tuxedo, with a navy pin stripe tie finished with shiny leather oxfords.

“Oh my god!” you squealed, bending down to squeeze his cheeks. “You look so adorable.”

Drew blushed at the attention as you continued to shower him with praises. Paige’s mouth dropped as she glared at the two of you. “Are you serious?” she complained. “You never react like this when I show you my shopping hauls.”

You raised an eyebrow at your girlfriend. “Maybe that’s because you buy the same grey sweatpants each time.” Drew snickered and gave you a fist bump as Paige fought back a smile, trying to mask it under feigned annoyance.

“You two are unbelievable,” she declared. “I regret letting you guys meet.”

“You’re just mad your girlfriend likes me more than she likes you,” Drew shot back, earning another high five and round of giggles between the two of you.

Paige made a show of getting up from her seat. “Well, I’ll leave you two alone since you guys hate me so bad,” she said dramatically.

It was almost 1 AM when you silently crept up to Paige’s childhood bedroom. You and Drew had stayed up gaming for hours, long after Paige had gone up to finish some homework and study. You expected the blonde to already be fast asleep, but when you opened the door, she was using her phone in bed.

“P?” You whispered, startling her.

“Dude.” Paige fixed you with an unforgiving look after recovering from her shock. “It’s literally one. What were you guys doing that took so long?”

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, letting the door quietly shut behind you. “We were really getting into it.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Paige said, rolling her eyes. She plugged a charger into her phone and set it on the bedside table, clearly ready to go to sleep. You shrugged and headed to the bathroom to brush your teeth and get ready for bed. But when you climbed into bed and leaned over to give the blonde a kiss, she dodged it. Ignoring your confused stare, she rolled over, turning her back on you.

“Woah.” You tapped her shoulder. “What’s up with you?”

“What’s up with me?” Paige suddenly shot up straight in bed. “You spent the entire day ignoring me. I’m starting to think you’re only dating me to become friends with my little brother,” she complained.

A small smile slowly worked its way onto your face as realization dawned on you. Paige hadn’t been tired all day. “Aw, Paige,” you teased. “Are you jealous of your 10 year old brother right now?”

Realizing how ridiculous the situation sounded, Paige avoided eye contact with you, instead concentrating on pulling the comforter around her. “No,” she said unconvincingly, her voice tiny.

“I know you’re lying, baby,” you chuckled. You reached over to cup the blonde’s face in your hands, giving her an adoring look. “You’re so cute.”

“Stop it,” Paige blushed, swatting you away. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Hey, I never see your brother!” you defended. “You can’t get mad that I’m excited to see him.”

“I know,” Paige whined. “But you don’t have to totally ignore me.”

You felt a slight pang of guilt as you thought back to how you’d completely forgotten about the Timberwolves game that Paige had been so excited to watch with you. Granted, she was excited about every wolves game, but still. “Paige Madison Bueckers,” you intonated slowly, clasping your hands together. “I am immensely sorry for the pain I have caused you today.” You planted a big and sloppy kiss smack in the middle of her forehead, causing her to groan and wipe away the slobber. “You are the light of my life,” you said solemnly. “The apple of my eye. My favorite person on earth.”

Paige pursed her mouth, trying to prevent the corners of her lips from curving upwards. “And?”

“Never again will I ignore you or miss a wolves game.” You hesitated. “Wait, can I take back that last part? You watch so many of their games it’s hard to keep up-”

Paige’s eyes narrowed and you decided to cut yourself off before you dug a deeper hole. “Nevermind!” you said brightly. “I will never again forget to watch a wolves game with my beautiful, sexy, gorgeous, incredible girlfriend.”

The blonde beamed up at you. “That’s more like it.”

You toyed at the collar of her shirt, letting your fingers brush gently across the soft skin on her neck. Looking up at her through your lashes, you said as seductively as you could, “Now can I kiss you?”

“Fuck yeah,” she muttered, grabbing your hips and pulling you in.

[hannieehaee]

Hiii i love your writing sm that is always look forward to anything you write . Pls remember to take care of yourself .

Imagine chan having a younger s/o , doting on her , taking care of her protecting her 😭😭😭😭 it would be so cute

them having a younger s/o

content: small age gap between reader and member, established relationship, etc.

wc: 1056

a/n: thank u hehe u take care too!! <3 also i wrote this assuming the age gap is nothing too crazy!! just something like 3-5 year difference for hyung line and 2-3 year difference for maknae line c:

masterlist

seungcheol -

he was MADE to dote on and care for a younger s/o. his credit card would literally be your own. his home would be yours. would treat you akin to kkuma in the sense that he'd coo at you incessantly any time he was away from you for more than a few hours and would love dressing you up in cute outfits to match his own (in a low-key, fashionable way, of course). he'd adore a younger s/o because he'd feel like he could really provide for you with both his wealth and wisdom.

jeonghan -

being the one of the elders of the group and having a younger sister, he's literally been trained for a younger s/o. im completely convinced he'd adoooore a younger s/o that he could dote on and baby in every possible instance. he'd use his preschool teacher voice on you all the time and coo at you so much that you'd literally have to beg him to stop. at some point he'd start doing it just to annoy you lmao.

joshua -

tbh i feel like he would be kinda indifferent about you being younger than him, but would still acknowledge it at times. would coo at you and baby you in exaggerated manners to tease you over being younger than him. but! this would just be a veiled way for him to take care of you.

jun -

how is he supposed to baby you when he's the embodiment of baby himself? however, the creator of the aegyo cat set would still manage to coo at you and attack you with constant aegyo to show his affections towards you. all in all, though, i think he would be a lil indifferent about you being younger than him. maybe it'd inspire a little extra protectiveness from him, making him always keep you close to him in public spaces and use his massive shoulders to shield you from crowds or any danger.

soonyoung -

he'd baby you at times but for the most part would be pretty indifferent about being older than you. however! he would let his childish/immature side come out more often while around you, reasoning that you brought out his more youthful side. would probably match your energy at all times. he'd 100% use the 'im older than you' card to try and win arguments/disputes (it wouldnt work).

wonwoo -

absolutely endeared by you!!! have you seen the way he looks at chan? if you were around chan's age, he'd give you the chan treatment but a thousand times over. would cackle at any joke you made, always keep his adoring gaze on you, bring you snacks even when you didnt ask for them, make space for you on his lap whenever he played games or watched movies. you'd be his baby.

jihoon -

he'd try to hold back for a while, but he'd eventually break and feel an instinctive need to take care of you in a way he would a younger member. even if you were a very independent and self-reliant person, he would still take care of you in his own low-key way. would make sure you always had all your meals, make space for you in his studio and provide you entertainment so you could accompany him in there in the long hours of the night. he'd feel a special type of love for you knowing he could dote on you so freely.

seokmin -

he'd be obsessed with you!!!! would baby you constantly and take care of you in every way imaginable. youd also kinda activate his cuteness aggression without him realizing. he'd wanna be the one and only man to protect you and become a rock for you to rely on. would feel happy and proud to be a person you trusted and someone you could look to whenever you needed.

mingyu -

yet another member who would go insane over being older than you and use it as an excuse to baby you at any given opportunity. would treat you like loyalty and would act as if it was a crime if you ever did mundane stuff on your own instead of allowing him to do it for you. walking to the other side of the room? why when he can just piggy back you there!! packing your own lunch in the morning? nope! he's cooking you a whole meal!

minghao -

ive always felt like he'd go for someone younger just for the traditional aspect of it (idk i have no basis for this belief lmao just a hunch). he'd enjoy playing the role of the dependable boyfriend with a younger s/o to provide for and dote on. it'd just bring him a special type of satisfaction to know that you could look to him as a reliable source of comfort. would be the ideal boyfriend and take care of all your expenses and all your emotional needs.

seungkwan -

he'd be so damn overbearing in the way he took care of you im ngl. would keep tabs on your meals to make sure you had all your meals every day, would push vitamins on you, and just have huge concern for your health overall. he'd also feel insane cuteness aggression for you at the most random times, becoming overly affectionate and expressing how cute he thought you were (even if your age gap was teeny tiny).

vernon -

gives me the vibe that he wouldnt really care if you were older or younger. however, seeing the way he dotes on his little sister and gets along with her, i think he'd be similar with a younger s/o. wouldnt really bring up your age difference much but would still use it as the butt of jokes or use it as an excuse to take care of you at times in which he just felt a little extra affectionate towards you.

chan -

as the youngest, he'd love the idea of him being able to baby someone for once (ik he has a younger brother ok). would use the 'im older than you' line to death and be so fucking annoying about it. however, he would also feel satisfied knowing he was a dependable figure in your life who could take care of you in the same ways his members always took care of him.

[stsgluver]

𝐒𝐍𝐀𝐏𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐏𝐓.𝟐 — gojo satoru

synopsis. another installment of the first years going through old videos of their teacher and his friends

wc. 4.1k

tags. gojo x reader, reader in the same class as gojo, ft. nanami and haibara

an. do I have any idea where im taking this? no. still think its cute though (let’s hope the next part doesn’t take me another couple of months 🤭)

previous part / next part / series masterlist

“good evening boys,” nobara burst into megumi and yuuji’s room. the former who was shocked awake from his nap and the latter who had two big bags of popcorn in either arm. he’d been waiting for an hour for the orange-haired girl, a bright grin on his face.

“you can’t just come into our room,” megumi grumbled, pulling his pillow over his head and rolling over in his bed. nobara and yuuji ignored his complaint, dragging both chairs in their room in front of yuuji’s desk. nobara set up the laptop whilst yuuji ran to nobara’s room to grab a third chair. after five minutes of rustling, their movie night was read.

“come sit all, it’s movie time!” the orange-haired girl said excitedly, pulling megumi’s comforter off of him. he sported his usual frown but sleepily complied nonetheless, dragging the blanket around his body as he sat next to yuuji (who then forced the dark-haired teen to share some of the blanket with him). 

“we’re in detention.” the screen opened up with you – hair pulled back into a ponytail as you wore your usual uniform. the three students could recognise the wall behind you as one of their own classes. 

“not our fault,” shoko added, fixing gojo’s glasses on the top of her head. the two of you spoke in hushed whispers, glancing towards the door where, presumably, yaga was on the other side. you had shoved your desk closer to shoko’s so it was basically one big desk and the camera was balanced in the middle.

“never is,” you pinched the bridge of your nose, shooting the person next to you a glare. 

shoko lightly shifted the camera so that geto could come into frame. he raised his hands up in surrender, “it’s not mine either.”

“satoru is getting yelled at by sensei right now,” you whisper shouted, pointing towards the door. if yuuji turned the volume up any louder, they’d be able to hear yaga yet again scolding gojo for another mistake he’d made on a mission – an order he’d probably disobeyed the more confident he grew in his own ability.

shoko frowned, throwing her hands up in exasperation, “he literally knows it was that idiot. why are we being punished?”

“maybe yaga thinks if we get annoyed at satoru he’ll stop,” geto reasoned with a sigh, as if though he wasn’t gojo’s partner in crime and equally as complicit when he entertained his antics. 

“no he won’t. he thinks by punishing us, satoru will have some epiphany about his actions impacting other people. like he thinks far enough ahead to come to that realisation,” you dropped your head down onto your desk. geto laughed quietly, giving you a ‘comforting’ pat on your shoulder.

shoko leant close to the camera, a sharp pencil in hand that she lightly jutted forward, “count your days, gojo satoru.”

the classroom door slid open and the camera was abruptly dropped as yaga walked in, a head of white hair only seconds behind. “is that a came–?” his voice was muffled and cut off quickly as the clip ended.

“bagsy my turn,” yuuji practically jumped from his seat, almost spilling the popcorn everywhere as his half off the blanket dropped from his lap. 

megumi grumbled at him as he grabbed the blanket and bag of popcorn from his excitable classmate. “oh no i was in such a rush,” he sarcastically quipped and nobara lightly nudged his shoulder.

gojo behaved as a god now, untouchable to all as he alone was the strongest. even though their teacher had never been anything but overtly childish, his cursed energy wasn’t something that could be ignored. seventeen year old gojo was as human as they come, lovesick and reckless and happy. the balance of the world was yet to be forced upon him. 

yuuji grinned as he sat back properly, having only taken a fraction of the time to find a video he wanted in comparison to their previous snooping session. taking back his bag of popcorn, he settled himself back under the blanket. “want some?” he offered megumi, who shook his head in response. “your loss.”

as per usual, it was shoko’s face up close and personal with the camera as she adjusted the lens and made sure that it was on and focused. once she was satisfied, she spun the camera so that it was facing nanami – yuuji could hardly contain himself at seeing his beloved teacher look so… not muscular and scary. small giggles filling the dorm room.

the two were in one of the tokyo classrooms, and sat on desks on opposing sides of the room. nanami had his head deep in a book that would probably kill any of his classmates from sheer boredom alone.

“who do you think the first of us to die will be?” shoko asked indifferently as nanami’s eyebrows furrowed and he slowly looked to his left with an unimpressed expression. even as a sixteen year old, he was set in his rigid mannerisms and beliefs and often saw his four seniors as pains in the ass. whilst you and shoko were definitely ranked higher in his list of people he could tolerate than gojo and geto, questions like this made him contemplate his future in jujutsu sorcery if this was who he was going to be working alongside.

“why are you asking me that?”

“answer,” shoko demanded, zooming in the camera on nanami’s face. his blonde hair was held neatly in his side parting and he looked like anyone but the nanami the students were familiar with. 

it looked like he was contemplating telling shoko she was odd, or completely blanking her and opting to finish his book, but the thoughtful silence was interrupted by a sudden thud outside of the classroom. their heads darted up to look at the door and peer through the open doorway into the hallway only to hear gojo’s faint ‘i’m okay!’. 

nanami let out a drawn out sigh, shaking his head. “him.”

“none of us!” haibara’s voice called out as he peered out of the classroom’s cupboard that he’d been reorganising (it had been gojo and geto’s job but they’d left it worse than when they’d arrived and he really didn’t want to get told off again by yaga). 

shoko eyed the camera in disbelief, not even trying to entertain the young teen’s impossible ideology. “you know the mortality rate of a sorcerer right?” she called back to haibara who didn’t falter in his cheeriness as he affirmed his point.

“and? geto and gojo are almost special grades already! you’ve got to have some faith in us,” he grinned, slipping his jacket back on as he finished up his tidying. his footsteps held a skip that the older students had lost – an innocence that was rarely allowed to exist in the jujutsu world. 

yuuji had stopped giggling at the younger appearances of the sorcerers he now knew because he didn’t know him. it was a reminder to the three that no matter how positive they remained against the hardships that would come, it wouldn’t matter. it was kill or be killed and one tiny little mistake, one movement a fraction of a second too late, was the difference between getting paid and coming home in a body bag. 

“lame,” shoko rolled her eyes. she tapped her twin twice as she pondered her own question before pointing at the blond opposite her, “my guess is nanami.” despite his disinterest in the question itself, he shot a look of offence to shoko who raised her free hand in surrender. “imagine this: you’re put on a mission with gojo. you’d ask the curse to kill you.”

“i’m getting killed by a curse?” the special grade in question peered into the classroom, glasses pushed up onto his head and revealing his renowned dazzling blue eyes. there was a small scratch on his cheek – presumably from whatever he’d hit into a few minutes prior.

“no, nanami is to avoid you.”

gojo gasped, one hand on the door frame and the other over his heart as he cried out that ‘that couldn’t be true’ and nanami was his ‘bestest bestie for life’. he only halted his dramatics when you and geto forced him out of the doorway so you could join the rest of your classmates.

you sat in your usual seat next to shoko and geto sat on top of your desk. gojo, on the other hand, remained at the door, jaw practically on the floor as he aggressively pointed at the annoyed blond. “guys, nanami is going to die so he doesn’t have to be friends with me, defend me!”

“at least one of us is brave enough to end our suffering,” geto teased, pinching the bridge of his nose with a grin as you lightly hit his arm, scolding him for entertaining gojo’s behaviour.

instead of giving the white haired sorcerer’s antics any more attention, shoko turned the camera so that it was only a couple of inches from your face. “who do you think will die first?”

“satoru,” you said in unison with geto, eliciting another gasp as gojo dropped onto the floor, faking death. 

when he didn’t get the sympathetic reaction he wanted, he abruptly sat up, pointing a finger directly at you and geto, “did we all just forget five minutes ago when i kicked your asses in training?”

“i’m literally a grade two sorcerer, what sort of flex is that mr i’m-practically-special-grade-please-worship-the-ground-i-walk-on?” you scoffed. the video ended a few moments later, cutting off laughter and satoru bickering with you. 

there was a brief moment of silence – mixed feelings towards what the three had just witnessed. of course it was fun to watch their teacher and his friends but death was a sobering event.

“megumi?” nobara gestured for him to take his turn on choosing their next video but he shook his head, cradling what remained of the bag of popcorn (he’d stolen it back after yuuji nearly spilled once he saw nanami).

“no thanks, you can take my go,” he offered and nobara grinned, worries set aside as she leant forward to find the next video. it was like watching a tv show but it was real life and she knew the characters.

yuuji tried to argue it should be his go – megumi did steal his popcorn after all – but megumi didn’t care enough to aid his argument and there was no way yuuji could overpower the orange-haired sorcerer without his support. nobara was a force to be reckoned with and yuuji was scared to make her mad. 

“is that the teacher from kyoto?” nobara asked after several moments of silently scrolling.

yuuji leaned forward to look at the thumbnail of the video she held the cursor over and in between two tall cherry blossom trees was utahime iori. “it is!” he said excitedly; he’d never seen her without the scar before.

the video opened with utahime running towards the camera from the pink trees. they were fully bloomed and in the background there were tourists taking photos.

“did you get a good picture? does my hair look okay?” utahime asked whoever was behind the camera. the questions were so mundane – the questions of teenage girls worried more about their social media than if they’d survive their next mission.

“yeah don’t worry it always does,” shoko’s voice was heard speaking. her hand appeared in the frame a moment later as she handed utahime back her phone. “here’s your phone.”

“you never say that to me,” you grumbled.

“take the hint,” shoko threw a handful of cherry blossom leaves at you and there was the sound of rustling as you tried to shake what you could out of your hair. 

“shoko ieiri!” you whined, followed by some incoherent threat and a complaint that you’d just had your hair done after some curse had ruined it the other week.

utahime picked up the camera, lifting it high up to show off the trees and bustling streets of tourists and commuters. “i thought we specifically didn’t bring gojo and geto to avoid childless arguments.”

“yn’s fault,” shoko countered, jumping away into the frame of the camera as you tried to hit her arm. she giggled, half behind utahime, “do you at least have gojo’s card?”

“you mean this gorgeous thing?” you appeared on the other side of utahime, sleek black card between your fingertips that you showed to the camera. “today is on him ladies.”

“you truly are taking one for the team being with him, i retract all earlier insults.” shoko held her hand out for a truce, bowing her head as you took her hand.

“i appreciate it, it’s not an easy task,” you dramatically wiped a fake tear away from the corner of your eyes. gojo had given you the card before you’d embarked on your monthly trip to the city, telling you that as long as you brought back a bag of sweets and kikufuku from that one cafe, he didn’t care what you spent.

you froze a moment later, a look of deep thought crossing your features, “can you guys hear that?”

“no,” utahime frowned, a look of concern as she glanced around at the crowd. if your day was about to be ruined by a curse, or worse yet, curse users–

“sounds like the card is saying we need to buy overpriced starbucks.” the three of you broke out into grins at the potential that the black card had given you.

“oh my god, you’re so right and wait,” shoko grabbed your wrist and brought the card close to her ear, “it needs cigarettes to be bought too.”

“shoko! you said you were quitting,” utahime nudged her and shoko blew her an apologetic kiss. the nicotine patches she’d bought to try and quit were still sealed and in a draw she hadn’t opened since she put them in there several weeks ago. quitting was nothing more than a fantasy considered once every blue moon.

“she’s a liar–”

“–and proud,” shoko finished your sentence with a nonchalant shrug.

“i wish sensei would give me his card for a day,” nobara said wistfully as the video ended, twisting a strand of her orange hair around her finger as she mentally plotted the order in which she’d go to all of the shops in tokyo. all she’d need was a full day – 9 to 5 – and she’d never have to shop another day in her life. 

“you’d max it out within an hour,” yuuji scoffed, scooping a handful of the popcorn into his mouth. nobara scrunched her nose up at him as he messily chewed down.

“actually it’s a lot harder than it would seem,” megumi noted.

nobara raised a brow at him – megumi and shopping? “you’ve tried?”

“we tried multiple times,” megumi spoke without much of a second thought. his jaw clenched slightly as he realised his mistake and the consequential curious eyes . pointing to the dark screen, he lightly elbowed the boy next to him’s side, “yuuji take your go quick before i kick kugisaki out so i can sleep.”

“welcome to yn’s kitchen- don’t touch that,” you whacked geto’s hand with a wooden spoon, stopping him from dipping his finger into the bowl of chocolate icing. the dark haired sorcerer cradled his ‘injured’ hand though it was comical to believe you’d actually done any damage – he was at least an entire six inches taller than you.

“today we made a cake,” you held your arms out in a jazz hands manner to show something that… resembled a cake? if the students squinted maybe they’d agree.

“for satoru’s birthday,” geto added, pulling out the big ‘18’ candles that would eventually be used. 

it was pretty obvious that neither of you had any real baking experience, but the thought was definitely there. the shape somewhat was cylindrical, only a small clump had chosen to stay in the pan and had to be ‘surgically’ glued back to the rest of the shape with a large scoop of nutella. you were hoping that the icing would disguise the bitterness of the burnt edges.

“taste it,” you smiled at the camera, shifting the plate towards geto like you were on some cooking show and that pile of sponge was something to be proud of.

geto pushed the plate back without any hesitation, “i don’t want to.”

“do it.”

“you do it.”

your smile dropped and you flashed geto a glare before composing yourself by clearing your throat. taking a deep breath, you broke off a tiny piece of the top layer of the cake, “so i’m now going to trial this small bit for research purposes.”

you barely had chewed twice before your mouth was scrunching up in disgust and you were disappearing off camera to find a bin to spit it out into.

geto, unfazed and unsurprised by your joint failure, picked up the spatula and began dolloping it onto the top of the cake.

“that’s horrendous-” you came back in view with a glass of water in hand. “what are you doing?”

“hiding that with icing,” he stated obviously.

“we’re still giving that to him?”

geto grinned, directly at the camera as he hoped gojo would find this video after he too ate this. “obviously we’re still giving it to him.”

“it’s weird,” yuuji hummed once the video ended, “those two were sensei’s closest friends and yet he doesn’t speak about either.”

“can you blame him? have you ever spoken to maki about the attack geto led against the school last year?” nobara pointed out and yuuji’s eyes widened as he’d nodded. maki was a woman of few words but when it came to yuta? she’d spend all day ranting about how much she disliked geto and that he’d gotten what was coming to him.

“my turn,” megumi placed the now empty bag of popcorn onto the floor as he scrolled and clicked on the first video that he could find. you weren’t a conversation he was ready to have yet – he could bearly speak to gojo about it, let alone the two loudest mouths in the school.

the video opened to the loud sound of the subway. shoko and geto were sat on one side whilst you and gojo on the other – with you holding up the camera as your beloved boyfriend stood up in the middle of the subway carriage.

“fit check!” gojo did a little spin, showing off his basic hoodie and baggy jeans that he wore almost every time the four snuck out of the high school – or in fact, did anything together for that matter. for someone so rich he really did not use his wealth to its full capacity.

after his little twirl and bow, he dropped back down next to you, looking over the camera into your eyes as he seeked your validation. “i look hot right?”

“you always look hot,” you flipped the camera to face yourself as you not-so-subtly-whispered, “his mum paid me to say that.” the students knew their teacher well enough to know that the dramatic gasp they heard was almost definitely followed by an overexaggerated display of anguish. your giggles and geto’s laughter only confirmed the conclusion.

“i think i need a kiss to recover. or i’ll spend the rest of my days as a ghost, heart broken and never able to leave this subway as i haunt it and all the other coup–” the lens view was obstructed by their teacher’s hoodie as you gave into his demands, cutting off his pathetic rant. 

a loud groan was heard from shoko as she snatched back the camera and held it up to her unimpressed face and geto gagging. “i prefer it when they’re broken up,” she grumbled. 

before megumi could interject and tell nobara to get out now (he didn’t care if yuuji teased him for his ‘need for beauty sleep’), the video ended and automatically opened onto the next one. his words were caught in his throat at the oh-so-familiar apartment.

“get that out of my face.” you were older now, only be a few years but there was a scar on your neck that hadn’t been there in any of the other videos. gojo’s laugh could be heard as he ignored your request and instead held it up high enough to capture you both in the frame.

“you don’t remember this old thing?” he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pressed a kiss to your forehead, securing you before you could duck away from him.

“we’re twenty one stop acting like we’re ancient,” you crossed your arms in front of yourself as you accepted that maybe just possibly you didn’t quite the match the strength of jujutsu’s strongest sorcerer.

“we may as well be. we’ve got two kids.”

your eyes widened and you shook your head, “we do not–”

“yn!” a small megumi appeared in the corner of the frame and you quickly shut up as gojo gave you an i-told-you-so look. “gojo said he’d help me with my maths homework. an hour ago.” 

the smugness almost instantly vanished from the sorcerers face as you glared at him for once again avoiding his responsibilities. because apparently there was more to looking after children than feeding them and taking them out for the day as a reward when they beat up bullies in school.

“i’m a busy man megumi, saving lives, helping–” gojo winced as you elbowed him in the side, allowing you to slip from his grasp.

“ignore him megs, let’s go into the living room,” you said, ushering the small boy out of the room. two years of this and you were surprised that megumi even still bothered to give gojo a chance to act his age.

“don’t take my sweets!” 

you halted megumi purposefully, “do you want gojo’s sweets?” the camera although kind of forgotten now, still had the young boy in view and picked up his smirk in full as he nodded.

“i’d love them.” gojo winced again, pretending like tears were about to start falling. as if though he couldn’t easily afford to replace anything they did eat by the thousands.

“perfect,” you exaggerated in a condescending tone. as the amazing parent that you were, you made sure not to forget about the other child that was staying with you. “tsu! do you want a treat?”

“yeah!”

“even better,” you clapped your hands together and gestured for megumi to continue on into the living room again. “have fun with your camera love. i’m very busy adulting here.”

“this isn’t over,” the white haired sorcerer shook his head, betrayal clear on his features.

you mouthed the words ‘i love you’, blowing him a little kiss as you disappeared around the corner. gojo gave you a fake grin, narrowing his eyes at the camera.

“jokes on them, i pay the bills. no more electricity for them.”

“you were so cute!” yuuji practically squealed as he and nobara jumped up 

“your hair was so spiky!” nobara reached out to poke at his less bold spikes that he sported nowadays. they had earnt him his nickname of ‘sea urchin’ but still couldn’t beat his younger hairdo.

“can we meet her?” yuuji asked, the poor boy having been oblivious to any of the social cues that nobara already had. nobara coughed at his request, eyes flicking between the two boys.

megumi shook his head. “i think that’s enough for tonight. please, kugisaki,” he nodded his head towards the door. the girl gave him a quick salute, completing her secret handshake with yuuji before she grabbed the laptop and disappeared from their dorm back to her own.

the dark haired student ignored yuuji’s complaints as he dropped himself back onto his bunk bed, reaching for his phone. upon opening his messages, he scrolled to a contact and pressed on the chat. 

all of the messages displayed on the screen were sent from him to the unknown contact. there was never a response, or even a read message. just ‘delivered’. he knew that if he scrolled up it would be much the same. the last message he’d ever received was one on his 14th birthday; a simple ‘happy birthday. i love you. i’m sorry’.

hi. we miss you. i hope you’re doing okay.

taglist. @thefictionalcharacterssimp @hana-patata @mor-pheus @leathairs @sh0ek0 @maliakealoha @levisteeacup @g-kleran @stevenknightmarc @n1kimura @darliingyu @saturn-alone @splxtscreen @leah-rose03 @rinshoe @laurenzitaa @patricia142lilian @sabo-has-my-heart @wooasecret @dahliawarner @kysrion @dreamerdeity @mwah-chia @geromiegerald @arminsarlerts

[docdudo]

Hybrid 141 As Parents - Foster Human Child!Reader (Part 2)

You try not to linger too much on the way they were acting. They seemed fine, really, they did, and you were just nervous, you knew that. It was just mindless anxiety that made you flinch quietly when they approached a little too much as they gave you a tour around their house.

They were being relatively quiet, their voices in a low volume as mostly John Price, the dragon, introduced each part of their house to you. You all walked with you on the middle, as John was walking in front of you and the other three behing you, Johnny a little bit more to the side.

You didn't really notice, not with how you were keeping your eyes mostly at the ground and at the dragon's back, but the three other hybrids had their eyes glued to your small form. Small little thing, that walked so slow. Since John was in front of the group, he had a bit more space to walk, even if he was going slower for you. But for the three who were slightly behind? They were almost just shuffling along so they could keep following you and still keep a respectful distance.

Johnny was clearly getting antsy as they walked. He's a werewolf, that, like dragons, are a very... touchy species. Especially with their pups. And you're just so slow, so cute, so small... he really wanted to touch you. To pick you up and carry you in strong and big arms that would certainly keep a small, soft thing like you warm. And now, he can't avoid paying attention on the fact that you seen to be wearing just a light jacket, and it's cold outside. Well, not to him, but he knows humans, he knows they get cold so easily......

"Control yourself, Tav." Before he could even process, sharp talons were pulling him back as Gaz hissed quietly in his ear, holding his arm firmly. "She's not used to us yet." "I knae, i knae..." Johhny breathed in quietly, trying to compose himself. "Just... such a wee thing..."

You look back for a second, just to see the two big hybrids whispering to eachother. Before you could even try and pay attention to what they were saying, John called your attention back to him. "And this, sweetheart, is your new room."

You nod quietly at that, still a little unsure. John smiled gently at your hesitance, opening a white door at the end of the hallway they were walking on. That makes you frown a little. What kind of kid's room is the last one on the hallway? That's usually the parents room, from your experience.

Still, you couldn't avoid widening your eyes a bit at the sight of the bedroom. Their house was big, that much was obvious (they must have had a hundred children or something), so the room being big wasn't exactly a... surprise. Still, were all rooms in hybrid houses like this?

The room was spacious, big like the rest of the house, but also... very heavily padded. The bedroom floor had soft thick carpet while the rest of the house had wooden floors. In the middle of the room, it had some kind of weird blankets and pillows nest, caved inside the floor. Still, it had a single lonely bed to the side, a cute little bed that looked like it couldn't fit any of the hybrid men.

The bed was pilled with a lot of blankets and pillows, just like the nest. Very fluffy looking, and even had a small metal fance at the side that wasn't against the wall, padded, of course, that made you think that it could have only come from their kids' toddler years or something.

There were a lot of toys tucked inside toy boxes to the side, that were by a giant closet. Some of the plushies were around the room, inside the weird nest at the middle and close to the bed, all soft plush animals. The only two windows had metal bars on them, and were covered by long curtains.

The colors of the room were heavily leaning into pastel tones, like pastel pink, pastel purple, pastel yellow, pastel blue, pastel green and white. It all looked so... childish, but... confortable too.... It looked confortable, safe, clean. It was very clean. This room looked like something out of a movie or something.

So that's why all you could do was stay still as you stared inside the room, a bit stunned. It was just by John's gentle nudge, one that still made you flinch a bit as you felt a heavy, scaily tail touch your back, that you finally stepped inside.

"This was some of our children's room when they were younger." John explained gently, leaning against the door as the others also tried (and failed) to look smooth as they leaned forward by Price's body to watch you inside. "I hope it's okay?"

"A-ah, it's... good..." You mumble quietly, still looking around the room.

Kyle's wings ruffled at your small, meak voice, eyes foucused on you like a damn eagle. Simon leaned a bit more inside the room, silent, a big scary presence. John cleaned his throat a little as he noticed how shy that was making you.

"We're gonna leave you to unpack. If you need us for anything, you just need to call, okay, sweetheart?"

You nodded quietly, still standing in the middle of the room with uncertainty. John smiled gently once again before pushing the others back with his tail and closing the door. You pretended not to hear rushed whispers as soon as the door was closed, foucusing more on putting your backpack under the bed safely.

The bed that... looked so inviting, and so fluff, and it smelled so clean too...

And in a second, you were out like a light, curled in a small little ball on the bed, sleeping over the confortable covers.

Part 1 / Part 3

[seungcheorry]

at this point, seokmin is literally performing a solo show as he showers.

the setlist? it goes from 'espresso' by sabrina carpenter, to 'ggum' by yeonjun, his junior.

"jagi~", seokmin screams in his cute voice, as if it's not 7am and your neighbors won't complain about the noise.

it takes less than a minute for you to enter the bathroom, 'birds of a feather' by billie eilish playing loudly.

"babe, my neighbors might strongly dislike you at this point", you sigh.

"i'm sorry", he peeks his head from behind the curtain, but his childish-like smile tells you he's not sorry at all. "my shampoo ran out, can i use yours?"

"that's why you called me?"

seokmin nods, patiently waiting for you to answer.

"what am i gonna do with you, lee seokmin?"

and, just on cue...

"and i don't know what i'm crying for, i don't think i could love you more...", seokmin sings to you, face expressing how serious he is at that moment - even though it's just one of his silly little antics.

you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how your ears are turning red. "use the shampoo and get out of the shower in 10 minutes, breakfast is almost ready".

"i'll love you till the day that i die!!!", seokmin loudly sings as you close the door behind you.

a 'thank you, jagi' is what you hear while you go back to the kitchen.

a/n: for my dear @kozukensgf. sorry it took me so long to write, hope you like it, baby. ❤️🍒

[koqabear]

love fool ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

♫: Seven, Jungkook // Lovefool, The Cardigans // I only want to be with you, Tommy february6

“In which Yeonjun is more than willing to show you the lengths he’ll go for you.”

yeonjun x fem!reader

Genre: established relationship, inspired by “Seven” mv, fluff, angst, smut

Word count: 10.6K

warnings: don’t take this story seriously pls. it’s ridiculous. yj is clingy. and emotional. and a bit pathetic. the mc is avoidant… and a bit of a bitch ! Lack of communication smh, a bit toxic if u squint ur eyes but it’s supposed to be cute idk (seven mv type toxic skdjdj) yj is a frat boy & a himbo (pick a struggle, pls), arguing, mc has acrylic nails, use of the phrase “boyfriend-girlfriend” bc i’m obsessed w it

smut warnings: mean dom!mc, sub!yj, (mentions of dom!yj) service top!yj, unprotected sex, manhandling (m. rec), hairpulling, name calling, (bitch, stupid, slut, etc) pet names (baby, good boy), dry humping, biting, marking, scent kink (?), scratching, dumbification, dacryphilia, forced orgasm (kinda), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, yj rambles. a lot. breast play, handjob, humiliation, creampie, subspace, implied oral (f. rec) (lemme know if i should add anything!)

Notes: fucking hate arguing with men w/ pretty puppy eyes like i will fuck the shit outta y-

Yeonjun hates when you’re mad at him. It makes him feel guilty and leaves him with a gross feeling in his stomach, pouty and annoying as his friends are always left to deal with the mess. 

It doesn’t happen often— he tries his hardest not to make you mad, always saying yes and going above and beyond with you— he loves to please you and make you happy, which is exactly why it hits harder when you look at him like you never want to see him again. 

“I don’t want to see you around, don’t talk to me!”

But sometimes, he just can’t help it. 

He seriously doesn’t know what he did wrong— there were no anniversaries forgotten, no plans he stood you up on, no petty arguments— and yet, here he sits, sinking into his couch and burrowed in blankets as his friends try to get him to come out of his cocoon, all with no success.

“Is she mad at you again?” Beomgyu asks, his voice muffled despite sitting on top of Yeonjun— literally, he couldn’t feel his legs— and he hears him groan at the sight of Yeonjun nodding under the mass of blankets, cursing quietly to himself and undoubtedly rolling his eyes, “dude, what did you do?”

“I don’t knowww,” Yeonjun cries out, throwing the blankets off him and onto Beomgyu as he whines— he watches as Beomgyu flails about for a second, running his hands through his hair as he continues to stress about you, “she— she said she didn’t wanna see me again, but I miss her…”

“Fuck, she’s probably just saying that because she wants space— dude, are you crying?”

“What if she was breaking up with me?” Yeonjun asks, and Beomgyu is amazed to see the way his wide eyes are welling up with tears; god, he’s actually crying now, the sight childish and unhinged as he watches his (older) friend sniffle and hiccup through his sentences, “what if— what if she— she, she, she really meant it— god, I don’t wanna break up, I don’t even know what I did wronggg!”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu grimaces, watching the way his friend breaks down before his eyes; his hand is stiff and awkward as it pats Yeonjun’s back, trying his best to comfort him, wincing at the way Yeonjun only cries harder, “It’s… probably nothing, I’m sure she’ll talk to you again tomorrow, or once she’s calmed down.”

“You think?” Yeonjun asks, peeking through his hands and up at Beomgyu with sparkling eyes, full of hope as Beomgyu can only crack a nervous smile.

“Yeah,” he says, patting Yeonjun’s back again in reassurance, “Yeah— just, be patient, okay?”

Patient is the last word one would use to describe Yeonjun. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

MONDAY

This is it. 

Yeonjun has been waiting all weekend for this moment (Or just Sunday, to be more accurate), restless on his feet as he finds himself pacing back and forth— he’s nibbling at his lip nervously, arms sore and tired from the weight of the gift he holds in his hands; a bouquet of your favorite flowers, pristine and in full bloom— it’s large and quite heavy as it practically covers his face, but Yeonjun knew that a small bouquet would do nothing to show his love for you. 

He would try to talk to you as soon as your class ended. He needed to know what he did wrong, and he sure as hell would not do it again. You didn’t text him after the argument, and it only left him uneasy at the thought of you really wanting to end things.

He didn’t want to lose you. Not like this. 

Admittedly, he got a bit ahead of himself— he’s been waiting outside for the past half hour, arriving much too early as he stood out in the hall awkwardly— at some point, he tried peeking into the small, rectangular window next to the door, hunched over slightly and pouting as he scanned the room for you. 

When he spotted you, he was delighted to see you had already been looking at him. 

He couldn’t contain the wide smile that stretched across his face, waving at you excitedly in hopes you’d do the same— unable to realize that the whole class was now looking at him, he was confused to watch the way your face screwed up into an expression of sheer embarrassment, shielding your face with your hand and looking away as some students began following his line of sight. 

Why did you do that? You were ignoring him, and it hurt like a bitch as Yeonjun frowned. His mind was racing as he began wondering what he might’ve done wrong— he was so focused, in fact, that he failed to notice the professor blocking his view, his reaction time much too slow as his eyes flickered up to meet the man’s gaze. Flustered, he backed away quickly, his face heating up as he bowed in apology— he hugged the bouquet close to his chest as he did, mumbling out a soft sorry the man probably couldn’t even hear. 

You, on the other hand, could hear the way your professor laughed at Yeonjun’s actions, absolutely mortified by the way he turned around and began to joke to the class, saying that “It looks like someone here has an admirer,” whilst looking in your direction, your classmates laughing along before he went back to his lecture.

Shit, this was so embarrassing. 

Yeonjun is so fucking stupid, you cry to yourself, peeking over at the doorway in hopes that he took the hint and left— but no, he definitely didn’t, because you could still see his figure through the window, leaning against the wall and holding an item the size of his whole upper body close to his chest. 

The last thing you wanted to do was go outside and see him— but that’s exactly what happened anyway, even if you lingered behind once class ended in hopes that Yeonjun would get impatient and wait— patience was never his strongest virtue, after all. 

But for you, anything could change. 

This is exactly why you find him outside the door, face hidden with what is, to your surprise, a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

Fuck, you seriously don’t want to talk to him right now. Gritting your teeth, you use this moment to sneak past him, a slight guilt tugging at you as you look back, spotting the way he seems oblivious to the fact that you’ve left already. 

Looking back was your first mistake.

Because Yeonjun, in a truly creepy fashion, is almost able to sense it, whipping his head to you and perking up at the way you only walk faster— then begin sprinting, refusing to look back again once he starts chasing after you. 

“Baby,” you hear him call out to you, the ridiculous rustling of his bouquet slightly muffling his words as his footsteps thud against the tiles; for an athlete, you’d expect him to catch up to you already, but you quietly pat yourself on the back for the slight head start you gave yourself. 

“Baby, wait!” he continues to yell, ignoring the strange stares from those passing by, “Please, let me talk to you!” 

“I don’t wanna talk!” you growl out, your emotions taking over as you remember why you’re mad at him, “leave me alone!”

You’re outside now; you’re a huffing and sweaty mess, but you refuse to slow down for even a second, the threat of Yeonjun hot on your heels fueling your stamina. 

“Can you please tell me what I did wrong?” He yells, exasperated as he watches you run off the sidewalk— you’re attempting to lose him, but countless running drills and morning runs have prepared him for this moment— without a second thought, he’s following you, attempting to peek over his— inconveniently large, he must admit— bouquet, watching the way you simply continue to run, glancing back every once in a while to see if he’s still there. 

“Please, can we be civil and talk about this?!” his words have you turning around to send him a glare— instead, you stumble to a stop as you watch Yeonjun trip, eyes widening at the dramatic sight before you. 

He’s fallen flat on his face, a puff of petals blowing up around him as you wince— he’s face-first into whatever’s left of the flowers, the rest of the petals fluttering in the air around him and falling delicately on his figure as you stare, the place eerily silent save for the chirping birds and rustling leaves.

He doesn’t say anything— he doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t even attempt to get up, left splattered all over the grass as you stare at him in slight concern. 

“Yeonjun?” you call out uncertainly, shifting on your feet as you pause. He doesn’t respond— he’s left frozen on the ground, and you’re frowning at the sight as you slowly make your way to him; you approach him slowly, as though you were approaching a wild animal, tense in your movements as you lean in to observe him. 

“Did you die?” you ask quietly, taking in the way he still hasn’t moved. Not an inch. You feel more concerned than you want to admit, crouching down in front of him as you bite your lip in worry. 

“Do you hate me.” the sudden words have you flinching, staring down at Yeonjun, who’s still eating dirt and flowers. You frown, scoffing at the way he weakly reaches out for you— swiftly, you slap his hand, watching the way it flops back onto the ground. 

“No— yes— a little,” you stutter out, angry at the way you bounce between responses just from the mere pathetic sight of him. 

“Can you forgive me?” he asks, the words muffled as it takes you a minute to decipher what he may be saying— you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics.  

“For what?” you ask, picking a petal off his back absentmindedly as you wait— if he could answer properly, you might consider giving in. 

“For existing.” 

God, Yeonjun was such a sap. It has you biting back a smile as you resist the urge to stroke his hair, mused and riddled with petals from his grand gesture— but his answer was not the one you were looking for, and you’re standing back up and readjusting your clothes without another word. 

“pleaaaaseee,” you hear him whine, watching the way he shrivels up into a ball— then, he’s sitting back on his legs, whipping his head up and looking at you with wide, teary eyes. 

“Please take the flowers with you at least,” he pouts, thrusting the bouquet— or, whatever was left of it— up at you with pleading eyes.

Pressing your lips together, you sigh; a moment passes before you’re taking the gift from him begrudgingly, ignoring the way he perks up happily at your action. 

“I’m still mad at you,” you hiss, and he immediately deflates at your words, “Don’t visit my class like that again. Please.” 

He says nothing, left to watch as you turn your back to him and walk away; he has yet to get up, his heart pounding against his chest as he watches the way you hug the flowers close to you, shaking your head at the state of them. 

This was… progress. 

But you’re still mad at him. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

TUESDAY

Visiting you in class was a big no. 

Visiting you in general, however, wasn’t off-limits.

You don’t want to talk to him? Fine, he can understand. In fact, he won’t talk to you at all— a feat much greater said than done— but hey, he always loved staring at you anyway. 

Well, it’s a little hard to stare by the way you’ve propped up textbooks around your face like a fort. 

He’s staring. He’s still staring. You can practically feel his puppy-eyed gaze burn into your brain telepathically; no matter how hard you try to focus on your work, it’s become damn near impossible with the way you can feel Yeonjun’s presence, your neck beginning to ache from the way you’ve remained ducked down this whole time. 

It was easy to deal with at first; you chose not to do anything the moment you saw Yeonjun emerge from the staircase and onto the top floor of the library— otherwise known as the quietest level. 

He wouldn’t be able to talk to you without disturbing the peace of others— and potentially being asked to leave— so you decided to not make a scene and go back to studying, even when you felt his eyes lock on your figure and beeline to you. 

He sat across from you first. Though, you were quick to move, pretending as though you were looking for a book as you quickly ran away to the other side of the library. You felt the way his eyes followed you the whole time— he looked like a kicked puppy, and damn did that stupid tactic of his always work, because you even felt yourself pausing for a second, wondering if you should give in and talk to him. 

But, you are a horrendously petty person.

You were holed up in some random corner. You didn’t even know there was a table there until today, the spot so secluded and quiet that you silently celebrated getting him off your trail.

It was peaceful— for like, a good ten minutes. 

You didn’t think much of it when you first heard it; footsteps, slow and calculated as they rounded about the bookshelves. You could hear the sound of books being pulled out clear as day, though you chose to ignore it all and keep focus on your assignments instead. 

After a moment, the footsteps disappeared. 

It was back to being completely silent. And, in your bored state, you began to look around the area you were huddled up in; curiously, you allowed yourself to walk around, reading the spines and pulling out books that seemed to pique your interest even slightly. 

There seemed to be another person here as well— maybe it was the same person as before, or maybe it was someone new— you didn’t pay mind to it nonetheless, continuing your journey as your eyes locked in on a particularly colorful book.

Slowly, you pulled it out— on the other side, you watched the book adjacent to yours slowly get pulled out as well, and a smile tugged at your lips at the odd coincidence. 

Then, your eyes met with Yeonjun’s. 

His gaze filled with admiration was only returned with a mean scowl from you. You were quick to shove the book back into its place, storming off to your table without a moment’s hesitation. 

Yeonjun was quickly able to find your hiding spot— one might think you could cry from the way you buried your face into your hands defeatedly, refusing to look up from your dark refuge as the sounds of a chair scraping against the carpeted floors met your ears. 

That’s how you found yourself here, ignoring what people might think as you hide behind your fortress of textbooks. You didn’t feel good staying in a secluded area with Yeonjun— not because you thought he might try to do anything— but because you were afraid of your own resolve crumbling, especially after you’d spent so much time trying to ignore him. 

You wonder if he’s still here. Who are you kidding, of course he’s still here, though you can’t really bring yourself to check and see for yourself. 

After a while, you hear scribbling sounds. 

You can’t hide the way you jump as a piece of paper hits your head, folded into a perfect heart and landing in front of you with a dull thud. 

Open me :( it says, and though you wish you could say you were strong enough to ignore it, you definitely aren’t.

Can you pls let me look at u at least?

You don’t get much of a moment to process the message. Another paper lands directly in front of you, shaped into a heart and scrawled with the same words as the last— slowly, you open it, dreading what might be written inside this time. 

I miss you so so so so so much. 

You shake your head at his words. Sliding the paper to the side, you ignore his request, choosing to focus on your work instead of giving in to his silly tactics. After a moment, you wonder if you’ll be getting another paper— instead, nothing happens; the sigh of relief you let out is almost comical, your body relaxing a bit as you allow yourself to wonder if he’s finally left. 

That was your second mistake. 

Because after a few minutes, another paper hits you. It’s another heart, and you find that you don’t need to open it this time, the message scrawled on top for easier access. 

I’m sorry. 

Another paper flies over your fortress.

I’m sorry.

Then, another. 

Pls forgive me.

Then another. And another, and another, and another. 

Pls, I hate making you mad. I feel so gross and sad rn. I seriously can’t go a day without you. I miss you sm, pls :(((

You feel like you’re under attack— the way he continues to throw paper after paper is rhythmic and almost impressive, the endless stream of hearts covering your keyboard and forcing you to sweep them to the side after seconds. 

It’s useless to study. How can you, when Yeonjun keeps throwing his apologies at you? It’s stupid and childish and is enough for you to take your textbooks down, your jaw clenched and your eyes pointed in a sharp glare that has Yeonjun pausing in his actions. 

There’s a small pile of hearts next to him. 

Neither of you move— he’s frozen mid-throw, his eyes widening as though he can’t grasp the fact that you’re actually looking at him— even if it’s filled with rage and annoyance. 

Slowly, the corners of his lips curl up— you can’t find it in you to react as he throws the paper in his hands, feeling the way it smacks right onto your forehead before it falls to the table. 

Can I show u how sorry I am??

You don’t seem to think of the consequences as you reach for your bag in the seat next to you— devoid of anything except a few pencils and your hoodie— and throw it at him, watching the way he yelps in surprise, your bag spilling out it’s few contents all over the floor. The sound is enough to have the people around you glancing at your table, curious or angry at the sound of the ruckus. 

You’re worked up and huffing as you watch Yeonjun scramble to gather the spilled contents of your bag, watching as he stutters out whispered apologies between his actions. 

“Excuse me,” the hand on your shoulder is firm as you twist your head to look at the librarian, your expression falling at the realization of what you’ve just done. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

Whipping your head around, you meet eyes with a sheepish and guilty Yeonjun, gritting your teeth as he holds out your bag for you to take. 

Wordlessly, you snatch it from him, shoving your computer and the rest of your items into it before you’re turning around to face the librarian; you whisper out a soft “I’m so sorry” as you bow in apology, waiting for her to leave before you’re facing Yeonjun again. 

I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to, he mouths to you, though you ignore it all as you choose to whack his shoulder with your very-full bag instead; the pained whimper he lets out has you gritting your teeth in irritation, watching the way he pouts up at you as he rubs his arm pathetically. 

“Don’t pull this shit again,” you hiss out, storming off before he can get another word out. 

There goes all his progress. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

WEDNESDAY

Today has been an oddly nice day.

It’s nice— too nice, you wonder, pondering what may be different enough to have you walking with a smile on your face, appreciating the beautiful weather in a light mood. 

A guy your age is leaning against a tree up ahead. He holds a bouquet of roses, and you smile at the way he seems to be passing one out to every person that passes him. That’s so sweet, you think to yourself, and you can’t help the way your stomach twists in anticipation the moment his eyes meet yours. 

“Would you like a rose?” he asks you, his blond hair shining under the sunlight as he sends you a bright smile— you don’t hesitate to say yes, taking the flower from him with a cute thank you! 

The flower is in full bloom as you twirl it between your fingers absentmindedly. The smile on your face is seemingly permanent as you make your way to your favorite cafe, though as you think back to the interaction, you can’t help but wonder if you know that man from somewhere.

It isn’t until you stop at a crosswalk that you notice it— there’s a tag on the rose, and though you initially thought it was just a price tag, you realize that it’s something else; pausing before you cross the street, you take a moment to tilt your head and read it, feeling your jaw drop as your brain registers the words in disbelief. 

Yeonjun says he’s sorry.

“What the fuck,” you mutter to yourself, ripping it off without hesitation and shoving it into your pocket— you definietly recognize the man from earlier, you realize— that was Hueningkai!

You roll your eyes at Yeonjun’s weak ploy to talk to you— you can’t help the way it leaves you irritated as you stand in line to order, trying your best to recite your regular order to the barista with a smile on your face, the man before you giving you a dimpled smile before he’s off to make it.

By the time you get your order, you’ve calmed down— you’re quick to exit and make your way back towards campus, using this small break between classes to study again. (without Yeonjun around, hopefully.) 

Your fingers are absentminded as you trace over the printed sticker on the side of the cup that has your order printed on it, glancing down at the text before you take another sip. 

Yeonjun is really sorry.

…What? 

You were more unnerved than anything. The lengths Yeonjun had gone through to communicate almost concerned you, though all you could do at this point was rip the sticker off and shove it in your pocket, ignoring it like the other one. You wracked your mind for answers as you began to wonder if you had seen that barista anywhere else, and after a moment, you settled on the vague conclusion that you think you’ve seen him in Yeonjun’s frat house before. 

He’s so annoying, you sigh to yourself, rubbing at your temples as you fear an upcoming headache. 

You’re startled back to life at the sight of a puppy running up to you— you’re frowning at the sight, unsure of what to do as it stops right at your feet, jumping up on you and barking excitedly— almost like it recognized you— squinting, you observe the dog. 

Oh god, you think to yourself, realizing with dread that you do recognize this damn dog.

“Matcha, who let you out,” you huff, leaning down to scoop the tiny dog into your arms— in the distance, you can see someone running in your direction, though you choose to ignore it as you notice Matcha’s brand new collar. 

Yeonjun misses you more than anything. 

The words are wrapped around his collar, leaving you to throw your head back and groan at the sight; the footsteps are much louder than before, and you’re looking forward again as you spot yet another familiar face. 

“Beomgyu,” you sneer, shoving Matcha into his awaiting hands. All he can do is laugh sheepishly, muttering out what a coincidence! Petting Matcha, he pauses, giving you an expectant look that only leaves you confused.

“Could you forgive him?”

“Go away!” you say in return, weaving out of his way and practically running off to the library; you can hear Matcha barking at you, though you choose to ignore it as Beomgyu’s calls of your name fuel you further. 

You feel out of breath by the time you finally enter the library, finding the nearest help desk and beginning to rummage through your bag for any books you need renewed— the librarian simply smiles at you patiently as he waits, adjusting his glasses before he quickly turns around to get something— by the time he’s back, you’ve laid out your books for him, thanking him quietly as you watch him renew them quickly.

When he slides them back towards you, you frown— there’s a bookmark on top of your small stack of books, laminated and shiny under the lights as you pick it up to get rid of the glare— reading it, you can already feel the need to tear it, though it seems as this cheeky worker is already one step ahead of you. 

Yeonjun just wants to talk to you again.

Three ways to better communication in a relationship:

The glare you send the worker— Taehyun, his name tag reads— is lethal, though he doesn’t seem to be affected by it as he simply sends you an innocent smile. Without another word, you gather your books, shoving them into your bag as you turn to leave.

“Ignoring him won’t solve anything,” he calls out quietly, though you don’t seem to appreciate the advice by the way you don’t even bother to turn back and react. Instead, you walk right back out, storming home as you type on your phone furiously. 

my baby :((

stop using others to relay messages damn it!!!

my baby :((

and don’t use matcha against me you loser!!!!!!

Through his end, Yeonjun is just happy that you’re texting him— though, the mean name is not much appreciated. 

Choi Yeonjun. 

can you pls let me talk to you instead?

You don’t bother opening the notification. 

That was your third mistake.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

THURSDAY

Today has been relatively peaceful. You have yet to be bothered today— no Yeonjun, no Matcha, and certainly none of his friends. 

Maybe because he was aware of your plans today; you did tell him a while ago about your reunion with one of your friends, always chatting his ear off about how excited you were to finally see her again—it slightly warms your heart to know that he actually listens to you.

Well. Most of the time. 

“You’re fighting right now?” Tzuyu asks, leaning forward in her seat with wide eyes. You didn’t expect this sudden change of topic, but you can only nod grimly in response, watching as she sighs in dismay at your situation. 

“Wow, you guys never fight— at least, not to this level,” she’s deep in thought over your relationship as she frowns, crossing her arms over her chest as she stares down at her empty plate— you both chose to forgo dessert, and now you wait patiently for your check.

“Well, what are you guys even fighting about?” 

“It’s just—“ you’re cut off by your server placing the check in between the two of you, thanking him with a smile on your face before you’re freezing; you’re unsure of what to make of the plate that he places before you, stuttering out unintelligible sentences that you didn’t order… whatever this was. 

“Free of charge,” the man says, before bowing politely and scurrying away; you’re barely able to get a word out before you huff in defeat, looking back at the treat in front of you as you take in Tzuyu’s amused laughter.

“What?” you ask, frowning as you watch her turn the plate towards you— you’re left a bit speechless by what you see, mouth falling open as your brain attempts to comprehend how you should react to this. 

It’s dessert— well, more specifically, three full scoops of ice cream, the caramel drizzle and other toppings decorating it to make it look like a cat; more specifically, a sad cat. All along the plate, more caramel drizzle decorates it to form a sentence. 

I miss you. Please, talk to me. YJ. 

Your head snaps up in the direction the waiter went in; looking out the small window of the kitchen door, you spot none other than Yeonjun, his eyes widening before he’s ducking out of the way like a deer in headlights. 

“How the fuck did he get back there?!” you cry out, running a hand down your face in disbelief— but no, one more glance back in his direction is enough to catch him peeking at you again, flinching in surprise before he’s ducking out of your sight once more. 

“Who let him in there?” you hiss, placing your head in your hands as Tzuyu merely laughs; you ignore the way she begins to dig into the dessert after you express that you won’t touch it, humming happily that it was a sweet gesture. 

A moment’s thought is able to remind you where you are— in Beomgyu’s older brother’s restaurant, of course. 

Defeatedly, you open the checkbook to offer to pay— though the price has your eyes practically bulging out, reading and re-reading the strange excuse of a check this waiter has brought to you. 

Your meal was free. 

The only thing you read on the paper was a poor excuse of Yeonjun replacing the food items with “i miss you”s and “i’m sorry”s, the sight baffling you as Tzuyu turns the check towards her in curiosity. 

“Interesting,” she hums, closing the checkbook before she’s fishing for tip money, “Are you sure you wanna lose a guy like him?”

You take a second to think her question through. 

Yet another mistake on your part. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

FRIDAY

Remembering what happened today is enough to have your head hurting— so, you’ll keep it short.

You were working— working, minding your own business, prey to unsuspecting events— when it happened. 

Fridays were always rush days. Maybe that’s why you didn’t think to pay attention to your surroundings, to the blasting music, the yell of your coworkers calling out drinks and names, or to the endless chatter of the customers around you. 

You should have paid attention— maybe, if you did, you would’ve been able to spare yourself the embarrassment— another mistake of yours, if you will. 

The break of music from the radio was not what caught your attention— radio hosts do it all the time, speaking in between songs with useless chatter as they find a song to play next— no, what did catch your attention, however, was the eerily familiar voice, and worse, the eerily familiar message he broadcasted all over your local station. 

“This next song is called Seven,” he spoke, smooth, suave, and relaxing as the track rolled in quietly in the background, “a song about a man more than willing to show how devoted he is to his to his partner— ___, come home, the kids miss you— well, more like Matcha, but still.”

You could feel your coworkers freeze around you. You could feel their gazes slowly drift to you, could feel the way customers got a good look at the decorated name tag you once showed off proudly. 

“Is— is he…?” your coworker whispered beside you, watching the way you caved into yourself in attempts to hide your nametag, “is he that frat boy you were talking about?”

“No.” you say, avoiding everyone’s gaze as you focus on making your drink instead, “No. That’s not him. This isn’t about me, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“___, I’ll keep waiting for you patiently. Have a good shift today.” 

Christ!

Your coworkers could only laugh lightheartedly at his words— they found it cute, which was even worse for you, because all you could wonder was how the fuck he was able to get into the broadcast station— this time, you seriously couldn’t figure out any ties between him and the place. 

“Looks like he won’t give up,” to say you were horrified at the way a customer told you this was an understatement, her eyes alight with amusement as she spoke to you with a tone so genuine you almost thought she was in on it— fuck, maybe she was— “if anything, you should turn him down soon before he goes too far.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” you breathed out, tired of these constant antics as you thought over her words, forced to go through the rest of your shift pretending as though Yeonjun hadn’t broadcasted his pleading message to the whole city— well, more like anyone who was listening to the local radio station willingly.

You feel like you’re on The Truman Show, or something.

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SATURDAY

You were scared to talk to Yeonjun. 

Scared— why were you scared? You don’t know why, but you couldn’t bring yourself to send him a text message, pacing around your room like an idiot instead as you wondered what you would tell him. 

Would you talk? Would you finally break up with him?

The way your stomach sank with dread at the mere thought of the second option was enough of an answer for you— no, you shouldn’t break up with him.

However, it was storming today— there was no way in hell you would be going outside to meet him in such weather, so you opted to psych yourself up to send him a text message asking to meet up instead.

You were pacing around your room again when you noticed it. 

There’s a bright umbrella outside— shit, you recognize that umbrella, you realize with a heavy dread, walking up to your window and pulling your curtains open as you stare out in dismay.

Why the fuck is Yeonjun outside right now?

It’s perfect timing, the way his umbrella raises to show his figure; oh my god, you think to yourself, biting your lip as you take his expression in, he’s crying!

This was not your intention. You never meant to hurt Yeonjun like this, but you also were not ready to see him yet— so, with a slight pang in your heart, you shut the curtains again, leaving just enough of a crack to make sure that he’ll leave.

Instead, he stayed there. In true Yeonjun fashion, squinting up at your window in hopes that you’d at least tell him to go away. Instead, he watched as you peeked through the crack of the curtains, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you thought you were being discreet with your actions. 

Slowly, Yeonjun turns his phone to you; there’s writing flashing by in his phone, though you have to squint your eyes and wait for the whole sentence to roll by to see what he’s trying to tell you now. 

I know you don’t… want to see me… right now but I … seriously just need… to know what I … did wrong. 

God. Fuck. This whole “ghosting” ordeal was harder than it should be when someone like Yeonjun was involved. 

 It’s been like… a week and you… still haven’t talked… to me.

Oh, the guilt is seriously eating you up right now. You weren’t supposed to ignore him for days on end, but each time Yeonjun reached out for you, you couldn’t control the way you ran away in return, still hurt by the things he didn’t even realize he did.

You’ve finally gotten a good grasp of his obliviousness.

I’m sorry… I love you… I love you… I love you…

Only three words are rolling by on his phone now. You think you’ve gotten the gist of what he’s trying to tell you as you sink to the floor, out of sight and exasperated as you reach for your phone to make a call. 

“Hello?”

“Please come get Yeonjun. He’s outside my apartment in the freezing rain.”

“Uhm, let him in then?”

“I— I can’t,” you mutter sheepishly as you feel your face heating up, your stomach sinking as you hear Beomgyu scoffing on the other side of the line, “I don’t want to talk to him right now. Not like this.”

“Then I guess he’ll stay out in the freezing rain.” 

“He’ll get sick!” you say, and it’s only now that you feel stupid for this push and pull you’ve created, “please. I’m begging you.” 

“You need to talk to him.”

“I want to. I will.” you say, placing a hand on your forehead as you sigh, “Tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

A pause. Then, you hear rustling, and the sounds of Beomgyu grumbling quietly to himself.

“I’ll go get him,” he says, and you can feel yourself sink further against the wall in relief, “you better not back out on your word, okay?”

“Okay.” 

You hope you’re not making a mistake. 

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

SUNDAY

This is awkward. You feel awkward. You probably look awkward, too. 

Yeonjun, for once, looks just as awkward and tense before you. His whole body is rigid as he sits on your couch, feeling more like a stranger in your home than the man you’ve spent the past few months with, the way his eyes wander around making you feel like it’s his first time here. 

“Yeonjun,” you sigh out, catching his attention as his eyes zero in on you immediately; you feel nervous under his gaze, unsure of what to say as your brain begins to stutter, your mouth opening and closing in hopes that a proper sentence will come out.

“What did I do wrong?” he cries out, snapping you out of your troubled reverie as your eyes meet his— they’re glossy, and you’re afraid he might just start crying again if you look away, “can we start there?”

“You— you seriously don’t know?” you ask, bewildered by his question as you sit back on your couch— Yeonjun simply shakes his head reverently in response, and you’re blinking owlishly at him as you stare at him in disbelief. 

“We didn’t have any arguments before this,” he says, nibbling on his lip as he thinks back to the moment you yelled at him, tearing his arm off you as he attempted to keep you from running away, “You just snapped at me then disappeared— I, I want to know what I did wrong, at least.”

“Yeonjun you—“ you’re dragging a hand down your cheek as you clench your jaw, taking a second to breathe to not snap at him again, “that’s the problem, you’re just so— so oblivious, I seriously thought you’d be able to put two and two together by now!” 

Oh, oh this is embarrassing; you should not be getting worked up right now, your hands immediately coming up to hide your face as you hear Yeonjun cooing out your name softly— he’s next to you at the speed of light, attempting to take your hands away as he quietly tells you to breathe in his stupid, calming voice. 

“You’re always at those stupid parties, you stupid frat boy—“ you’re stuttering through your sentences, the heat in your face humiliating as you feel your emotions finally tumbling down, “and I know I told you I’m okay with it— I am, I really am— but what I’m not okay with is how fucking flirty you are!”

You can feel Yeonjun’s hands stiffen; slowly, his mouth drops in shock, his face beginning to pale as he realizes just why you’re mad at him. 

“I’ve told you— time, and time again— that, that I don’t like when you feed into people like that, that you never reject advances and tell them that you have a fucking girlfriend,” you know he never means it in a harmful way. You know that, nine times out of ten, Yeonjun doesn’t even realize those advances are happening, but it’s always just as painful to watch, knowing that charming attitude and cheeky voice is exactly how he got you, “and it just makes me feel so… so stupid and jealous and unwanted!” 

You feel out of breath by the time you finish. Though you remain silent and try to calm yourself, you instead begin to feel more anger festering inside you as you take in Yeonjun’s face, full of dread and realization as he begins to think back to how he was acting back at the frat party that caused this mess. 

Yeonjun was used to people acting the way they did around him. It never fazed him, and most of the time he simply followed along because he found it fun. No, he never thought of having anyone else but you, you’re his everything— though, he does realize how inconsiderate he’s been of your feelings now. 

“Baby, baby, I’m so sorry,” he says, his words genuine and filled with guilt as he cups your face gently, “I didn’t know.”

“Fuck!” Your response is unprecedented as you shake his hands off you, pushing him back and forcing him to lay across the couch as he looks up at you in surprise. He’s unable to do anything as he watches the way you throw your legs on each side of his waist, grabbing a fistful of his shirt and tugging him up as you sneer at him.

“That’s your problem, you just don’t know—!” pushing him back on the couch, he lets out a soft oof! unable to help the way his stomach swirls in anticipation of your next move, “You’re just too stupid, you don’t know anything unless someone spells it out for you!”

Shit. Yeonjun has never seen you like this, frustrated and restless as you shift above him, your eyes alight with rage as you begin tugging your hoodie over your head; his eyes widen comically at the action, shifting nervously under you as he realizes that oh, you’re not wearing a bra. 

“You’ve seriously left me wondering if you’re even taking this relationship seriously, it’s ridiculous!” Yeonjun feels like he’s been left on autopilot as he lets you tug him up again; he’s sitting up, hands hovering precariously as you glare at him, the sight enough to have him gulping nervously.

“I— I do,” he stutters out, watching as you send him an accusing look, “I do, I do I do, I take you so seriously, and fuck, I haven’t been thinking of anyone but you all week.” 

“Yeah?” you ask him, patronizing and unexpectedly mean as you look down at him, “You never fucking act like it.”

“Yes I do—!” he yells out, though it’s cut off by the way you sit down firmly in his lap, a hand threading into his hair and yanking at the roots as you tug his head back cruelly, “I’ve shown you this whole week just how much I think about you…” 

Yeonjun is hard. Painfully so, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get turned on so quickly— it’s enough to have you laughing breathily, tugging on his hair again and listening to the way he only lets out a high whine in response.

“What you’ve shown me this week,” you hiss, bringing him close to you, your lips grazing against his as you speak, “is that you’re a desperate bitch that doesn’t know how to be patient.”

“You were ignoring me,” he fights back, letting out a breathy wince at the way your grip tightens on his hair, “you’ve been so mean to me—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t get another word in on the matter. The way you bite his lip ruthlessly and sneak your tongue into his mouth has you feeling the way he practically turns to putty under you, his cheeks just as red as his lips as he gasps against your own, feeling the way you begin to grind against his cock without remorse. 

“Me? I’ve been mean to you?” you wonder out loud, hands running down his chest before you’re tugging his shirt up; you don’t bother taking it off as it rests against his chest, leaning him back and running your hands over his skin as you take in the way his stomach twitches in response. “do you know how many people think they’ve actually got a chance with you, all because you refuse to use common sense and say, oh, I’ve got a girlfriend!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head; there’s no way your words are true, especially when he’s literally obsessed with you. But of course, you’re always right— which is exactly why you’re fueled to rake your nails down his skin, leaving him to hiss and twitch at the feeling of your acrylics digging into his stomach and leaving bright, red scratch marks— acrylics he paid for because he thought they were pretty, the reminder only making his cock twitch pathetically. 

“There’s no one in this world that has a chance with me but you,” Yeonjun insists, pouting at the way you only scoff at his words, “I’ve never done anything to fuel other people’s strange fantasies.”

“God, you’re stupid,” you say, and Yeonjun thinks he must’ve lost his mind from the way he can feel a whine building up in his throat, “and to think I found that endearing.”

“You’re so mean,” he pouts— though he’s quick to regret it, letting out a loud cry as you begin grinding against him, able to feel the warmth of your pussy through the thin shorts you wear, your breast bouncing from the way your body begins to move. 

“You don’t like it?” You ask, tilting your head to watch as he merely shakes his head in response— all you can do is plant yourself to where you can feel his length pressed up against your slit, throbbing against you as you pout at him in false pity, “no you don’t like it, or no you do?”

“I— I…” he doesn’t know how to respond; it seems as though Yeonjun hasn’t figured out the response for himself, but you can feel it from the way his hips buck up into yours, stuttering and without rhythm as he remains defenseless under you. 

“You do like it,” you say, mocking at the way he only whimpers from the feeling of your nails digging into his hips, “Feels nice to be on the receiving end, baby?”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, this was strange and new and Yeonjun was definitely enjoying himself more than he thought he should, a melted pile of remorse and love as he pathetically waited for your next move, doe eyes staring up at you as he felt his mouth part, unable to say anything as he gave in to the mean look you sent him. 

“Been waiting patiently for me, hmm?” you ask him, thinking back to his earlier words as you watch him nod eagerly in confirmation, “So you bothering me every day of the week was you being patient?”

“I just wanted to talk,” Yeonjun whines out, chest heaving at the way you begin rolling your hips against his, your rhythm firm and dangerous as he feels weak moans leaving him like a stream, “but you— you kept avoiding me, I wanted to get some confirmation that you didn’t break up with me that day…!”

“Yeah?” you mock him, your voice just as whiny and breathy as his as you lean down to him; placing your hands on his chest, you tilt your head, grinding your cunt against him in a way that has him panting and looking for someplace to grab onto, “and did you get your answer?”

Yeonjun doesn’t even think he registered what you said. All he knows is that the way you’re sitting on him is genuinely cruel, especially with the way he hasn’t felt your body against his in so long. His mind is muddled and he can feel himself losing control from the way his hips begin to buck up, his brain going blank except for the thought that he hasn’t felt you against him in what seems like ages, his body so pent up with frustration that he can’t help but chase after the slight pleasure you offer him. 

Yeonjun’s mind has blanked out. You can see it in his face, the way it’s twisted with pleasure as he fails to respond to you, body bucking up into you so wildly that you have to steady yourself with two hands pressed firmly against his chest, your balance getting screwed over at his attempts to fuck up into you. 

The feeling of your warm hands is enough to bring Yeonjun back, eyes widening in realization as his eyes meet yours, clouded with so much need that it has Yeonjun slowing his pace immediately.

“Fuck, fuck, wait,” he stutters out, eyes widening at the way your cunt is practically leaking onto him— he can feel it through the layers of clothes, “wait wait wait, I’m so— ah, please— so… sososo close, baby, please…!”

“Wait?” you echo, brows furrowing as he nods frantically in response, “thought you didn’t like waiting?”

“No, please, please,” he whimpers, though his hips don’t stop their mindless rutting into your warm cunt, “please, don’t wanna come like this, wanna be inside you.”

“No?” you repeat, the mocking tone of your voice making his eyes screw shut, “why don’t you stop then? It’s all up to you.”

Oh, of course he can stop— though, that doesn’t mean he will, your hips slowly grinding against his as you watch the way his mouth falls open, not a sound falling past it before his hips buck up into you wildly— slowly, you feel a warmth spread beneath you, Yeonjun’s eyes screwed tightly as tears begin to peek from the corners. 

“Nooooo nonono, no, not like this,” he cried quietly to himself, ever the hypocrite as his hands fly to your waist, riding out his orgasm with loud, shameless moans. 

“Oh, my baby,” you say, pouting at the way he apologizes to you under his breath, “Is that it? Are you done now?”

“No, not done,” he’s quick to respond despite his rattled state of mind, looking up at you through bleary eyes. 

“No?” you hum, taking a moment to watch him carefully. 

“No,” he repeats, breathless as his grip tightens on your hips— even through the sensitivity, you can still feel his hips roll up into yours, quiet whimpers and whines leaving him as he does so— though, he can’t find it in himself to stop, at least not with the way he has yet to feel you around him. 

“God, this is so pitiful,” you say, frowning at the way Yeonjun struggles to sit up underneath you; you’re cupping his face as he looks up at you, teary eyes and flushed face unable to say anything as he simply leans into your touch— the way you coo softly has him pouting, and you can’t resist the urge to hover over his lips, teasing him with a smile as you brush over them, placing chaste kisses that only have him chasing you for more. 

“What a good bitch,” you hiss, feeling the way his hands have wandered up to play with your breasts, obsessed as always as his fingers tug and circle your nipples, eager to feel them harden under his touch, “doesn’t matter how many times you cum, hmm? Just need to make me feel good?”

“Yes, yes yes yes,” he babbles, wincing and moaning at the way your lips have begun to wander along his neck, nipping and sucking and leaving enough marks that a person could spot from far away with ease; the way your teeth sink into his skin practically has him crying, and he can feel his heart pounding against his chest the moment he feels you pause, your nose nuzzling into the spot behind his ear, your breath ticklish on his skin as you laugh. 

“Are you wearing my perfume, junie?” You mumble, hearing the way he can only whine in embarrassment; he doesn’t answer you, and you bite at his earlobe softly as you wait, silently demanding a response as his hands fall to your hips, gripping them pathetically as though his life depended on it. 

“I missed you,” he repeats, the words making you roll your eyes as your hand finds itself in his hair; you’re tugging at it, tilting his head and exposing his neck to you as you begin to nose along the column, closing your eyes to confirm if this is really your scent, “couldn’t smell you on my clothes anymore, love your scent s’much, ah…”

His neck has always been sensitive; that’s exactly why you choose to focus on it so much, not leaving until it’s covered with your marks and his tears have run down them, his soft sniffles making you glance up as you take him in, overstimulated and a mess as he bites his lip in an attempt to quiet himself.

“Too much, baby?” You coo, running a hand through his hair and pushing it back comfortingly, watching as he shakes his head adamantly, his wide eyes shiny and tear-filled as he looks up at you.

“No,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you towards him; his face is buried in your chest, and you can’t hold back the gasp you let out as his mouth immediately attaches itself to your breast, plump lips sucking at it as his tongue runs along it, messy and spit-filled as he looks back up at you, grinding you into him with weak whimpers, “want you to use me, you can do anything you want to me, just wanna please you.”

“Such a good boy for me, junie,” you say, his eyes fluttering close at your fond comment. “Are you gonna listen to me, for once?”

“I always listen to you,” he insists, and you feel irked by his words as you scoff.

“Like hell you do,” you sneer, easily angered as he shrinks down from your cold gaze, “Show me then— strip.”

Yeonjun is eager to listen, eager to please; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him get undressed so quickly, kicking off his pants and throwing his shirt off in some random direction as he looks up at you expectantly, his cock a mess and already beginning to harden as your eyes fall to it.

“Hard already?” You muse, watching the way his cheeks blush red at your comment. Your hand is teasing as you wrap your fingers around his length, your perfect nails shining under the light as you slowly begin to move up and down, the cum from his previous orgasm guiding your movements as he begins to twitch under you, crying softly at the overstimulation. 

“Guess you weren’t lying,” you sigh out, finger swiping over his throbbing tip as you hear him yelp at the feeling, “just a cute body for me to use, hmm? You’re nothing but a dick for me to get myself off on?”

Yeonjun is mindlessly agreeing with you— your words are clearly affecting him, his cock leaking and throbbing in your hand, making a mess of it as his head falls back, throat displaying all the marks you left on him earlier like a trophy.

His head is snapping back up the moment you sink onto him. You’re warm, tight, and so fucking wet, his body jolting at the feeling of you clenching around him, taking him inch by inch as he feels the way your walls stretch to adjust to him.

“Fuck…” you hiss, your arousal practically dripping on him from how good he feels— “Yeonjun, shit.”

“Waiiittt, wait, oh god, no— don’t say my name like that, fuck,” Yeonjun begins moaning, your lips quirking into a smile as you watch his eyes screw shut, already knowing what’s coming from the way he holds onto you tighter, head buried into your chest as he tries to still your hips.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” You ask, feigning innocence as you roll your hips into him, moaning dramatically as you do, “Oh, Yeonjun, Yeonjun— fuck, junie, you feel so good, feel so full…”

He’s shaking his head hopelessly; you know what you’re doing to him, and he feels pathetic by the way he loses his senses the more you sink onto him, his cock twitching in you uncontrollably as he warns you to stop, stop, stop before I…!

“This is embarrassing, Yeonjunie,” you pout, feeling the way a warmth spreads inside you the moment you sit on his hips snugly, feeling him bottomed out inside you as he attempts to muffle his sounds. His ears are bright red and he refuses to show you his face as he keeps you close to him, his arms still hugging you flush against him as you feel the valley of your breasts become wet with his tears. 

“Why are you crying, hmm?” You ask him, looking down to see the way he still hides his face, “You’ve already come twice, shouldn’t you be happy? You’re so easy, Yeonjunie.”

Your words are degrading, your voice cold as continue to mock him— and though you pretend otherwise, you can feel the way he ruts his hips into you with every mean comment, clearly enjoying himself more than he lets on as he lets out a broken cry against your skin. 

“Fuck, are you seriously getting off to this?” You snap, bored with pretending as though you don’t feel your boyfriend clinging to you tighter as you degrade him, “You’re such a fucking slut— you get off to anything, don’t you?”

The way you pull him away from your skin is sudden and rough, a soft yelp leaving him as he’s finally forced to face you, eyes fluttering open and meeting your own, your face twisted in annoyance as you look down at him.

“Acting like a bitch in heat, already came twice from nothing,” you grit, rolling your hips against his as you watch the way his eyes roll back— your other hand comes up to grip his cheeks, digging into the flesh and squeezing them together as he pouts at you, eyes welling with tears as he feels your nails dig into him.

“Don’t you feel bad? How am I supposed to get myself off if you can barely keep your dick up for more than a minute?” Your eyes darken at the way he simply lets out a pathetic sorry, ‘m so sorry baby, “What? I don’t think I heard you right.”

Your pussy feels so good around him; Yeonjun is barely able to think straight from the way you’ve begun to bounce on his cock ruthlessly, the sight of your breasts bouncing before him hypnotizing as you jerk his head back up to look at you, towering over him and demanding as you slow your hips to a mean grind.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whines out, his words incoherent and mushed together as you keep a hold of his face, listening as you hiss out for what? “‘M sorry for being so impatient— ah, ah, please— ngh, sorry for coming too soon, sorry for…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He can’t find the ability to, distracted by the way your sounds have picked up, your fingers rubbing circles on your clit as you continue to use his cock like a toy; his cheeks feel sore as he stares at you with wide eyes, watching your face contort with pleasure, your rhythm become sloppy as you feel your legs getting tired. 

You didn’t think Yeonjun would pick up on it; without any warning, you find your back colliding against the couch, your eyes widening as you feel Yeonjun still settled in between your legs, cock still nestled deeply inside you; he’s still a pouty mess above you, hands gripping onto your hips as he begins rutting into you, his thrusts rough and out of control as he takes in your figure hungrily. 

“Sorry for making you feel unwanted,” Yeonjun babbles, feeling you throw your arms around his neck from the sudden confession, bringing him in close as you feel his face hover above your own, “I only want you, want you to use me and mark me so others know who I belong to, I’m all yours baby— please, please please please tell me you’re close, wanna feel you come on my cock, wanna make you feel good, missed you, missed this pussy, fuck, mmh, ugh, feel so good, so good, soso good, please, baby—“

Yeonjun thinks you’re something of an aphrodisiac to him; at least, that must be the explanation if he’s able to cum the moment he feels you unravel around him, unrestrained and addicted to the feeling as he listens to your pretty sounds, practically melting as he hears your voice purring under him— so good, fuck, you’re all mine Yeonjunie, all mine…

You don’t think you’ve ever felt Yeonjun cum this much— his cock continues to twitch and release inside you even after you’ve come down from your high, the man above you burying his head into the crook of your neck as he cries softly at the feeling, unable to help the way his hips buck forward to ride out his orgasm.

This shift in dynamic is new— but it’s addicting, and you find yourself thoroughly enjoying the way Yeonjun clings to you, his head hazy and needy for your comfort as he lays on top of you, uncaring of how heavy he may be as he wraps his strong arms around you. 

Missed you s’much baby, missed you, please don’t do that again, you could hear him mutter into your skin, a bit out of it as he peppered kisses along your collarbones.

“Alright, alright, I won’t,” you breathe out, running your fingers through his hair soothingly as he leans into your touch like a cat, “I’m sorry I kept running away from you.”

“But then again,” you trail off, tightening your grip on his hair teasingly, feeling the way he immediately whines softly, “you should’ve given me space when I asked you to. It was kinda cute, but don’t do that again— okay?”

“Okay. Of course. Whatever you say,” his response is immediate, not an ounce of hesitation as he stares at you with eyes shining with devotion. After a second, his lips part, and he’s hovering over you again as he looks down at you in wonder. 

“Does that mean we’re boyfriend-girlfriend again?”

You laugh.

“You idiot,” you coo, placing a soft kiss on his lips, unable to control your laugh as you do, “We didn’t stop being boyfriend-girlfriend. I was just mad at you.”

“Hmm. Then, can I eat you out?” His words have you freezing, looking at him in bewilderment as he simply smiles at you sheepishly, “To like. Show you how sorry I am.”

A pause. 

“…And, because I really missed eating you out.”

You sigh— and try not to show how eager you are as you nod softly. Yeonjun however, is shameless as he immediately pulls out, hissing softly at the feeling before he’s sinking to his stomach— you’re gulping at the sight. 

“You’re insatiable.” Your comment doesn’t faze him— if anything, it makes him smile, his pretty eyes staring at you with enough adoration and love that you’re squirming slightly under him.

“For you, yeah.”

-ˏˋ♡ˊˎ-

On Monday, the sight of Yeonjun on campus is enough to have you spinning on your heels and running in the opposite direction. He wears nothing but a thin tank top, wondering why you’re yelling at him to cover up the moment he answers your phone call. 

“Why? It’s hot outside— …and, like, I wanna show everyone who I belong to.”

(You refuse to stand by his side until he covers up—though, you can’t ignore the way his words send butterflies through your stomach.)

[catiuskaa]

need you to [Lee] Know.

SUMMARY: minho loves you: to him, it’s as clear as water. Its only after he finds out that you’re starting to doubt it—he needs you to know just how much.

REQUESTED! here by an anonnie. I hope you like it, pookie, ‘cause I had fun doing this! <3

CW: slight hurt/comfort if you squint, but it’s just fluffy fluffy lino being really down bad and not knowing how to grasp it tbh which just gives me my serotonin dosis for the rest of the month lol

WC: 1.2k

A/N: also omfg kats posting two requests on the same day? that’s right baby, look at me go! 🤩🤩🤩

[🔅★🌼★🔅]

Minho was not the type to show his affection.

He comes off more like a shy kitten that slowly gets used to you, your sweet smell and how soft your touch feels, and then slowly opens up.

“But, uh… can I be real with you for a sec?”

It’s a feminine voice with a strong accent. He can hear it comming from your room, and the slight glitchiness of it makes it obvious that it’s a phone call set on speaker.

“Sure.” He can almost see you shrug, but he just closes the main door as soft as he can, pleading for the cats to stay silent for a little bit longer.

Minho can’t exactly place together why he’s overhearing your phone call. He knows who you’re calling, he can recognize Chan’s sister by her tone. But still, he keeps quiet, gently placing his bag down and silently taking his shoes off.

“I just— and don’t get me wrong, but, your boyfriend kinda seems… bored of you.”

What? Minho has to hold back a scoff, remaining as still as a statue next to the front door. He’s waiting for you to deny it.

“You think so?”

And then, he frowns, because you didn’t. Instead, your tone sounded hesitant. Dubious.

As if you weren’t sure if Minho loved you.

“You say he keeps cancelling your plans together. He has stopped making time for you. Like, girl, you can’t remember when was the last time he told you he loved you.”

Hannah pauses, and that only makes it worse, because it lets every word sink in.

“I uh, well. I ain’t gonna say that he should throw flowers at you every single second, but, uh, you know.”

He can only hear you groan loudly, almost picturing that cute motion you usually did when he meaningly teased you, taking your hair and covering your face with it.

“Can’t say anything for sure with him,” Hannah adds. “But, just by what you’re saying…”

Minho’s heart clenches tightly in his chest. He doesn’t want to keep hearing this... this nonsense. God, he loves you. And you… can’t see it? Frowning, he starts walking to your room, but his movements end in a halt, his hand just above the doorknob, threatening to grasp it and fully open the door.

“Girl, it’s gotta be late down there. Sorry this whole call was about me.” Your chuckle comes off slightly dry. “I’ll talk to you later, ‘kay? Go get some good sleep.” Your tone just screams how bad you’re feeling, and it just makes his chest swell with guilt that slowly creeps up his body.

Maybe he had been taking you for granted?

He opens the door as soon as you press the red button, sighing loudly after ending the call. When you see him, you jump in your place, startled by his presence, and you stand up awkwardly.

“Minho!” You say in a squirm. He can’t help but cringe slightly.

“No.” His tone sounds childish, like a petty toddler who didn’t want to eat the carrots in their lunch.

You frown slowly, the slightly wary grimace melting on your face, allowing a soft confusion to step in.

“No what?” You mutter.

He walks to you slowly, and grabs your hand, taking it to his chest, pressing it flat against his clothed skin, over his heart. You can feel his heartbeat, a not-too-slow rhythm: thump, thump, thump.

“Call me by a pet name. Any pet name.” He says, his tone equally firm and soft. “Call me by a pet name and say you love me.”

He’s serious, but god, so fucking nervous. His brain is slowly melting away because he’s so bad with words and he isn’t sure any action could be enough. He’s already blushing.

“I, huh… I love you, jagi.” You mumble, still confused.

And even if you don’t say it as fondly as always, or if your smile isn’t beaming like how it usually did, you can feel his heartbeat quickening.

“You can feel it, right?” His eyes are soft and worried.

Oh, God. You just know you’ve gotta be pouting. It’s hard to react with words, and the only thing you can fathom doing is linking your arms behind his nape and sinking your face on the crook of his neck.

“Min, I’m so sorry.”

“N-no, kitten.” He mumbles, hugging you tightly too. “I am the one who’s sorry.”

He breathes in, drowning in your soft fragrance. Home. It’s you, it’s warm, and he loves it.

He loves you.

So, he says it. He has to say it. He can’t not say it.

“I love you.”

And it feels so good to let it out that he chuckles. He has to say it again. “I love you.” And again. “God, I love you.” Just once more. “I love you so much.” He’s giggling like a fool, but he’s a fool in love, and that makes him blush even more. “I can’t not love you. Not loving you would turn everyday into Mondays. Like, I can get it tattoed if you want me to. I just. I love you so much that ‘I love you’ can’t even—.”

You move from his shoulder, now facing him, and you cradle his face, pulling him in a kiss that’s so sweet that threatens to give both of you type 1 diabetes.

“Y-you’re crying.” Minho mumbles, softly brushing the stray tears away with his thumb.

“It’s your fault, silly.” You sniff, giggling too. “How can you say stuff like that?”

Your heart is beating like crazy, the butterflies in your stomach are multiplying by seconds and in your cheeks glistens a bright and deep shade of pink.

You want to say it too. But in his own way.

So, you take his hand and settle it on your chest. Right above your heart.

It’s a rapid thump thump thump that Minho feels right away. He can’t help but smile widely.

“I super-mega-love you.” He teases, picking you up in between his arms.

You’re laughing, squirming in his hold.

“Lee Minho! Put me down!”

But he just grips your body tighter to his, and walking as if you weighted nothing, heading towards your bed, plopping you down there.

“Good girl.” He snickers, and you blush even further. Minho takes your chin tenderly and pecks your lips. For a moment, certain kind of idea flashes through his head, but he just kissed you again, following his previous thought.

He opens your closet with a toothy grin, and halfly eyes the window before picking up a random shirt, a grey hoodie that used to be his, a dark skirt and your thigh-high socks, going as far as to the suspenders for you.

He then turns to face you, his eyes glowing. He can’t wait to see you all dolled up. Minho feels like a teenager, and he loves it.

“You have twenty minutes.”

You blink at him, and you can’t help but smile, confused.

“I’m taking your cute ass to a date.”

It may not be an instant fix to the struggles to your relationship, but as you two walk down the beach, looking for colourful rocks that match each other’s eye colour, you know that he’s worth fighting for.

Regarding Minho, he happily hums to himself, eyes glued to your figure as you cackle and run in the beach, as you look behind you and giggle at the prints your boots leave in the humid sand.

He smiles, running towards you, tackling you and holding you in his arms.

He’s not letting go anytime soon.

~Kats, who always struggles to choose a picture for the fics because istg lino looks good in every single moment!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Im an ace simp unashamedly and i need to share this little detail of heartslabyul's birthday boy card that someone probably mentioned alr somewhere. In all the boys' groovy illustrations theres always someone else with them. Riddle has cater and trey, Trey has cater. Cater has ace and Deuce has someone in the corner (i cant tell who)

EXCEPT ACE???? BRO'S JUST STARING INTO THE CAMERA WITH THAT SILLY LITTLE BLUSH LIKE BRO YOU LOOKING AT ME???? WHAT ARE YOU TRYNNA TELL ME TWST????

cbjsvsjsjcks Where did all the Ace simps suddenly spawn from… I feel like I’ve been meeting a lot of them lately (not necessarily through this blog, but also in other discussion circles) 😂

Yes, the Birthday Boy series tends to generally showcase at least one other character in the Groovies. For Heartslabyul: Cater and Trey appear in Riddle’s, Trey appears in Cater’s, and I believe it’s Ace in Deuce’s.

That isn’t Trey because Trey wears gloves in his dorm uniform, and nor can it be Riddle because his dorm uniform looks entirely different than the standard one. That leaves us with Cater and Ace. By process of elimination and using context clues, it’s most likely Ace. Cater already appeared in two other Birthday Boy Groovies. Additionally, Deuce has a voice line where he says Ace gifted him a jack-in-the-box—and while the Groovy doesn’t depict that item, Deuce is reacting similarly shocked upon opening it. Ace has also explained (I think in a Halloween event or vignette??) that it is possible to pull off a simple trick of flashing lights and sounds using magic. He tends to use his skills for childish things like little pranks and sleights, and has the personality to be inclined towards those things too. All the circumstantial evidence points to Ace.

Anyway, I feel like Ace is one of those characters you commonly see getting shipped with Yuu because of how he is presented in official content (and especially the main story). Him and Malleus seem to be the Big Two on that regard. That’s what my observation has always been, at least.

It’s rare that TWST will put out these “looking directly at you” illustrations, and even when they do, it’s not always aimed at Yuu if you look at the context the vignettes provide. For example, the Jade Outdoor Wear Groovy has him looking back and offering a hand… but it’s not for Yuu, it’s for Cater; Floyd’s Beans Camo Groovy had him looking soft and cute… and that gaze is aimed at Epel while Floyd talks about how he wants to take on strong opponents. Ace’s Birthday Boy Groovy exists in defiance of that pattern!

I think it’s funny that his dynamic with Yuu can so easily feed into that trope of the BFF that’s crushing hard but is too afraid to fully commit, so he always frames advances/flirting/playful teasing as “just jokes” to test the waters. It almost feels like Ace was tailor-made for this 😂 It sets up a lot the potential for something as simple as a look seeming longing. I can definitely understand how someone might see that Groovy and think it’s romantic. I don’t think most people make that kind of expression while using the thumb to brush away crumbs and staring into the camera 💀 Bro would 100% catch you and then go, “I know, I know, I look so cool that you just can’t get enough of me. Well, today’s my special day so I’m feeling extra nice. Feel free to stare at me aaaaaall you like, Prefect.” And then maybe joke that you could have him all to yourself if you asked—

You Ace yumes out there must be thankful for this food www

[cutecatlov3r]

kinktober: virginity~ gojo satoru

synopsis: your sweet talking sensei wants to teach you what it's like to be fucked by him and his huge cock !

warnings/tw: age gap!, teacher x student, blowjob, raw sex, piv, begging, unprotected sex, praise, breeding, manipulation, toxic gojo, porn without a plot(?), and virginity loss.

character ai bot that I made in honor of this: didn't make one for this ;(

not proofread // two posts for day 7?!?!

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you sat on his desk. kicking your feet in a sort of childish sense as you looked up at him. your clothes all off for him. you smiled at him like the innocent girl you were. he stared down at you, caressing your chin. he had a smile on as well, he wasn't smiling at you per say. he was smiling at the idea that he was gonna use your little body like a fuck toy soon. his dick was already hard, out, and ready to fuck you.

little twitches going through his cock as he stared down at you and your perfect tits. he was pulsing, eager to stick it deep inside of your hot and warm pussy. he knew you were wet, you were basically like a curious puppy that wanted his long dick to teach you how to be obedient to him. he loved virgins. the idea of you being soul tied to him forever had his dick drooling of precum.

poor, poor y/n.

before this, you two had a simple conversation on whether or not, you, his sweet little student was a virgin, when you said yes he couldn't help but want to take your virginity. you agreed! well sort of, at first it was an immediate no... but then he started to sweet talk to you. he talked about how cute your young body was, how easily wet virgins get and how it would make you, specifically you, his favorite student.

"gojo-sensei, what now?" you hummed, looking into his blue eyes. a small pout on your lips as you started to get impatient.

he took his hand off your chin. "hmmmm, why don't ya give it a kiss, sweetheart?~" he teased, grabbing his dick and tapping his fleshy pink tip against your soft lips.

you looked at his cock curiously as you gave it a small kiss. it twitched as you did, causing gojo to chuckle slightly. you can taste him on your lips, licking your lips so that your taste buds can get familiar with his precum. the small bit of cum tasted bitter, hint of sweetness, nothing too bad.

"again," he ordered in his sweet voice.

as you leaned in for another kiss, he shoved his dick past your plump lips, smirking. he knew exactly what he was doing. you looked up at him as you suckled on his tip, seeing in porn videos that guys usually liked that, too scared to fit it whole in your mouth, you knew you'd start gagging.

gojo was looked down upon at you as you suckled on his tip, feeling a tickling sensation, he liked it, but it'd feel better if it was fully in your mouth. he wanted to feel the insides of your cheeks, the back of your throat, he didn't want your attention to just be on his tip. you didn't know that, wanting to suck on his tip like a little hamster.

"baby, open wider f'me okay?" he asked, gently, knowing that his next actions weren't gonna be too gentle.

you nod, opening your mouth slightly wider. he gladly took this opportunity to shove his cock halfway into your mouth. you choked slightly, not used to having anything this big in your mouth. one of your eyes was shut as you looked at him, trying to get more familiar with his taste and length. your tongue ran underneath his shaft, trying to push it down as far as you could.

he grinned, jolting his hips forward more to shove it down, one hand caressing the back of your head. his hand was slowly pushing his fat cock down your throat more. fingers gripping your hair slightly at the scalp.

you focused on your breathing, trying to breathe through your nostrils. he enjoyed how well you were taking his cock.

"sucha good girl," he hummed, looking down at you. watching as your nose finally touched his white hairs that rested above his dick. you had it fully down your throat, the gagging wouldn't stop. tears brimming your eyes, feeling overwhelmed. but he didn't care, watching your struggle, keeping your head there for a bit, wanting to feel the inside of your throat.

after seeing that you were struggling to breathe, he pulled it out of your mouth fully, smirking at the spit that ran down your chin.

"so cute," he praised, wiping your chin. you whimpered to his touch, your thighs clenching together on instinct, needing friction. after those sweet words he spoke, you knew you were starting to feel heat in your core, you wanted him to get rid of it. "turn around for me," he smiled, giving you some space to bend over his desk.

"yes sir..." you reply, bending over his desk, giving him a full view of your wet cunt and ass. you looked over your shoulder to look at his face, seeing that he stroked the head of his cock gently. he looked at you, taking a step forward. he gave you a smile when he tapped his fat mushroom tip against your folds.

"g'na make me feel good, huh?~" he teased, rubbing the tip slowly at your entrance. it could slip right in if he tried but he held back those urges, teasing your needy hole. "suckin' me right in y/n, so dirty, sucha dirty girl," he continued.

you whimpered at his actions, feeling impatient. "stop teasing," you whined, trying to push back against him, he didn't let that happen, backing away as well. pushing your back down slightly to arch it more.

"don't be impatient," he chuckled. "hmmm, beg for it," he shrugged to himself, looking down at your cunt and his cock. "beg for your sensei to fill this pussy up with his cum," his voice going slightly lower.

your knees felt weak, thinking of the idea of begging your older sensei to fuck you. you wanted him so bad, you wanted his dick to stretch your tight walls that have never been filled by any man before.

"please gojo-sensei... please put it inside," you plead.

"hmmm, beg some more and I'll think about it," his voice trailing, hands grabbing the fat of your ass, lifting it to see your cunt and ass better.

"please!... please sensei! i'll be a good girl for you," you frowned, hands gripping the edge of his desk.

"this is my pussy right? only mine?" he asked, a curious tone in his voice. he sounded so innocent, yet here he was, tip pressed against your pussy, not in.

"only yours gojo-senei! i'll never let anyone fuck me, only yo-"

he shoved his thickness inside of you. those words... those words made his stomach turn, made him feel even more horny than he already was. you choked on your own spit, mind fogging. his cock was squeezed down inside of your tight velvety walls. he looked down at the scene, waiting slightly for you to get adjusted.

it hurt, it hurt so bad... but the warmth of his dick made it feel slightly better.

"s-sensei," you squeaked.

"holy shit! you're so tight, sweetheart," he let out a shaky breath, a furrow of his eyebrows on his face. his cock rutted once in your pussy to get you used to it. you squeaked again, feeling yourself clench around him. your legs were shaking a bit, cheat heaving up and down, trying to focus. "ready?" he asked, his tone low.

"y-yes sensei," you whimper, placing your head on his desk, it felt too heavy to hold up at this point.

he exited slowly before pounding back into you, your gummy walls contracting against his hungry cock. you swore you could feel it in your stomach. but that wasn't even on your mind. what was on your mind was the fact that he kept repeating those movements, hitting a spot deep inside of you that made you see stars.

"g'na stretch you out, so- so ngh..." he babbled, speeding up his pace slightly. he didn't take his time pounding deep inside of you, instead he sped up, hitting your good spots over and over. it wasn't even intentional, he was honestly just trying to use your body like his personal fleshlight. "gonna look so good with my cum spilling out of ya," he groaned, abusing your cunt by slamming deep inside of it. he wanted to feel all of you, he wasn't going to give you a break anytime soon.

you were being fucked so good that your mind was going blank. your moans being mixes of whines and even slight cries. it was way too much for your little virgin self to handle.

"fuck! so pretty baby...! you'd look so good full of my cum- so so good!" he rambled, slamming your hips down harder against him. it was at a constant pace, he loved feeling your walls twitch around him, he could get used to this. "mine, you're my girl," he thrusted into you, pounding your hips down with his hands. it was crazy, the way he was doing that was perfect, he was pulling your hips away before pounding into you at an amazing synchronization. he's definitely done this before, at this point you don't even care.

his cock brushed against the spongy part of your insides, causing you to cry out in pleasure. your cries making gojo go faster, feeling a bead of sweat roll down his face.

"moan my name!"

"gojo-sensei!" you cried, fingernails digging into the wood of his desk. you were clenched around him tightly, he loved it.

"g'na breed this tigh- tight agh~" he moaned, pushing himself to his limits. "tight pussy!" he continued, pistoning his hips faster. he was feeling his balls tighten.

your eyes rolled back as his balls slapped against your clit.

he kept pumping you with his cock until he started to feel his orgasm build up, he could feel that the tip of his dick was ready to erupt his cum inside of you. so he went at a fast pace for you. "cumming! fuck baby!" he moaned. "i'm- yeah!"

splurts of his cum shot into your pussy, the warmness of his cum making you feel so full. ropes after rope flooded your womb, he couldn't stop cumming. he needed to fill you up. he continued to move, to ride out his high.

you were crying out his name, exhausted and drained of your energy.

after riding out his high, he pulled out, smiling when he saw his cum leaking down your thighs.

"such a good girl," he praised, leaning down to kiss your shoulder.

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