#and stealing food from another's plate | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

khioneee · 2 months ago

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ORGAN THIEF

synopsis. you tell yourself caleb was never yours to have, so you let zayne get close. until caleb decides he doesn’t like to share. warnings. jealousy. mentions of violence. angst. pairings. caleb x reader (x zayne) word count. 7k. an. felt like crying tbh. might edit later.

when you were young, there was no such thing as distance between you and caleb.

you were always together, moving through life side by side, never questioning it. there were scraped knees from racing down the street, grass stains from summers spent lying in the backyard, and lazy afternoons where he let you steal food from his plate without complaint. nights meant whispered conversations under blanket forts, his voice always the last thing you heard before sleep took you.

you grew up together, side by side, pulling each other out of the awkwardness of childhood, shedding timidity like second skin.

caleb and y/n, y/n and caleb.

here’s y/n.

here’s caleb.

here's a bond that no one else quite understands.

your love for caleb hasn’t changed, but it’s grown into something you didn’t understand. can’t understand. not yet.

but caleb has grown. taller, sharper, still careless with his hair, but just as hopeless at tying his tie in the morning. there’s a natural ease to him now, a quiet confidence that draws people in without effort. he doesn’t just enter a room, he shifts the atmosphere, commanding attention without needing to say a word.

you hear the way the girls in the hallways whisper about him, their voices hushed but excited, their eyes lighting up when he so much as glances in their direction. he’s the kind of person people gravitate toward, like planets drawn to the pull of the sun.

kind. athletic. smart. golden.

the one who remembers names, who helps the new kid find their classes, who scores the winning shot and shrugs like it was never in question.

when caleb talks to people, he makes them feel important, like they’re the only one in the room, like whatever they’re saying is the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. he finds beauty in everything, in everyone, and in return, people can’t help but see the same in him. they admire him, look up to him, want to be close to him.

but they also fear him.

they don’t realize it at first. not until they get too close to you.

at first, you didn’t think much of it.

the way conversations with guys ended abruptly, how some hesitated before sitting next to you, or how your lab partner, who had been openly flirting with you just the day before, suddenly kept his distance. his easy confidence had dulled overnight, his laughter forced, his eyes avoiding yours.

maybe it was just a coincidence, a strange pattern you convinced yourself wasn’t worth questioning. but then it started happening more often. the brief glances, the quiet goodbyes, the way some of caleb’s teammates barely acknowledged you despite knowing that you were close.

still, you never questioned it. because, in the end, it never really bothered you.

caleb had always been like that.

like how he insisted you wear his jersey at his games. the first time, he tossed it at you casually, like it was an afterthought. ‘now they’ll all know exactly who you’re watching.’

you rolled your eyes but pulled it on anyway, ignoring how it smelled faintly of his cologne and sweat. after that, it became a habit. if you ever showed up without it, he’d pull it from his bag and toss it over. no words, no discussion.

or how he always left his jacket with you when you were cold. it didn’t matter if you insisted you were fine. if he caught you rubbing your arms or tucking your hands into your sleeves, his jacket would be around your shoulders before you could protest. warm, a little too big, and never once did he ask for it back.

if you returned it to his room later, he’d only shrug like he hadn’t expected it back in the first place.

and then there were the small things. how he always found a way to sit next to you, even when his friends were at another table. how he would drop by your class between periods, casually placing a snack on your desk before walking off without a word. he never explained why, and you never asked.

maybe you should have questioned it more.

but the thing that stood out the most was that caleb never introduced you as his sister.

it would’ve been the easiest thing to say. it would have explained the connection, the way you were always around each other, how naturally you fit into his life. but he never said it. not once.

until people noticed.

one day, after a game, one of his teammates finally asked.

‘so, she’s your sister, huh?’ the guy grinned, nudging caleb in the ribs.

caleb didn’t respond immediately, just looked at him, unreadable.

the guy smirked, pushing further. ‘should i start calling you brother-in-law, then?’

you expected caleb to laugh it off, maybe roll his eyes or shove the guy off like he usually would. but he didn’t. his response was smooth, controlled, and too even.

‘she’s off-limits.’

there was no room for argument.

his teammate hesitated, raising his hands in mock surrender before forcing out a laugh. ‘damn, man. didn’t know it was like that.’

you didn’t think much of it.

not until a few days later, when that same teammate got injured at practice.

a bad fall, they said.

a collision that left him with a bruised eye and a limp that lasted over a week.

accidents happen all the time in sports. it was easy to write it off as bad luck.

but when you glanced at caleb, standing on the sidelines, unbothered, indifferent with bruises along his knuckles, you felt something shift in your stomach.

maybe you should have been mad. maybe you should have confronted him, called him out, demanded an explanation.

not because it was unfair.

not because it was wrong.

but because you liked it too much.

you liked the way caleb made it impossible for anyone else to get too close. the way his hand lingered at the small of your back when he guided you through a crowded hallway. the way he always waited for you after school, even when you had nothing planned.

the way he looked at you sometimes. like there was something simmering beneath the surface, something unspoken and dangerous and impossible.

and that was the problem.

because he wasn’t yours.

because he was supposed to be your best friend.your family. the one person you shouldn’t want.

you understood now. the love you had for him has grown to fill the spaces you didn’t have when you were a child. it’s grown into longing and desire and jealousy, something so fucking powerful and essential that there isn’t a piece of you that doesn’t love him.

so you did the only thing you could think of.

you avoided him.

at first, caleb let it slide, pretending not to notice the way you pulled away. he let you ignore him in the hallways, let you skip out on lunches, let you slip past him at home without so much as a glance. maybe he thought you just needed space, that whatever was wrong would work itself out on its own.

but after a few weeks, the cracks started to show. he stopped lingering after class, stopped waiting for you outside your door, stopped trying to pull you back into his orbit. the easy confidence he carried dulled, his smirks a little less sharp, his presence not as loud. he wasn’t himself, and he knew it.

then, one day, he cornered you after the last period.

the hallway had mostly emptied, students filtering out in groups, their voices fading into the distance. but caleb wasn’t moving. he stood in front of you, arms crossed, blocking your path, his amethyst eyes sharp and unwavering.

‘you’re avoiding me.’

it wasn’t a question.

your stomach twisted, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. ‘i’m not.’

his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. ‘bullshit.’

you exhaled slowly, willing your voice to stay steady. ‘i’ve just been busy.’

he scoffed, shaking his head. ‘right. too busy to come out of your room? too busy to even lok at me? we live in the same house, y/n. you don’t just disappear on me.’

you swallowed, opening your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. caleb ran a hand through his hair, exhaling sharply, frustration radiating off of him.

‘so you win. whatever it is i did, i’m sorry. now will you please fucking forgive me and put us both out of our misery?’

the words hit harder than you expected. he thought this was about him. he thought he had done something wrong. and worst of all, he looked miserable. bruises under his eyes, the tell–tale signs of too little sleep. heartbreak seeping through the sunshine boy's skin and weaving its way through his veins and making rivers.

the weight of it crashed into you all at once, the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. before you could stop it, your vision blurred.

caleb’s face shifted the moment he saw the tears, his frustration dissolving into something softer.

his shoulders relaxed, his hands twitching at his sides before he finally reached for you, pulling you in without hesitation. his warmth wrapped around you, solid and steady, his breath slow against your hair. his fingers found their way to your hip, his lips pressing lightly against your forehead, his presence sinking into you in a way that felt painfully familiar.

and you didn’t resist.

because despite everything, despite the space you had tried to put between you, despite how complicated things had become, caleb still felt safe.

so you pressed into his touch, letting yourself breathe him in, letting yourself forget, just for a moment, that you had ever tried to let him go.

friends, friends, friends.

he held you close, his voice rough with emotion. ‘i’m sorry, pipsqueak,’ he muttered against your hair. ‘whatever i did or said, i’m sorry, okay?’

you didn’t answer.

you couldn’t.

because the truth was—

you were the one who needed to apologize.

because this was never about him.

it was about you.

and the fact that no matter how hard you tried, you could never, ever stop wanting him.

too much, too much. you wanted caleb too much, want too much always, but you are not together and you had to accept that.

caleb’s pinky locked into yours. you weren’t sure if it’s another apology or a source of comfort you need in your state, or just plain habit, but he’s touching you (friends, friends, friends) and that’s all you really need to know.

because despite everything, caleb still felt like home.

but home didn’t last.

caleb starts staying out late.

at first, it’s nothing. just a few nights out, a way to kill time.

you hear about it through his teammates, offhand mentions from gran when she asks if he’s home yet. It doesn’t bother you.

caleb has always been social, always had people orbiting around him, always found ways to fill the spaces in his life.

but then it becomes a habit. the late nights turn into early mornings, his weekends disappear into parties, and soon enough, it feels like he’s never home. he moves through the house like a ghost, slipping in while everyone else is asleep and leaving before anyone notices.

and you notice.

you notice the way he comes back smelling like perfume that isn’t his, how his lips are redder than before, how his amethyst eyes seem heavier, dimmer, weighed down by something you don’t recognize. you see the kiss stains on his neck, the scratches down his back.

you wish they hurt. you wish you left them there.

you don’t avoid him, not entirely, but you don’t talk to him the same way. your words are clipped, your tone indifferent. you stop waiting for him after school, stop lingering in doorways to say goodnight, stop reaching for him first.

when he nudges your shoulder, slings an arm around you, tugs on your sleeve like he always does, you pull away before he can get too close.

and caleb notices.

at first, he brushes it off, shrugs like it doesn’t matter. he teases you the way he always does, pokes and prods, waiting for you to roll your eyes and shove him back. but the space between you keeps growing, stretching into something neither of you know how to name.

he stays out later. comes home smelling stronger, marked up worse, his voice hoarse in the mornings like he’s been screaming into the night. he looks at you, waiting for a reaction.

but you don’t give him one.

and for the first time in your life, caleb stops trying.

the sky was falling weeks later when the door of your own room opens. blinking sleepily, you leaned over and flicked on the bedside lamp. he swayed against the wall, there is purple and green pressed all over his skin.

it’s caleb, whose lips are swollen again.

it’s late. too late.

the smell of beer clings to him, mixed with something sweeter. something that isn’t his.

his hoodie is loose, his hair messy, his steps uneven as he leans against your doorframe, eyes heavy-lidded but sharp as they land on you.

‘you mad at me, pipsqueak?’ his voice is lower than usual, playful, teasing, but there’s something behind it. something that isn’t entirely a joke.

your lamp lit up the dark bruise on his neck in a ghastly light. you could still see the fingertips, could feel the ghost of them pressing into his skin. friends.

your hand goes white–knuckled, gripping into the sheets. ‘go to bed, caleb.’

‘i’ll sleep in your bed,’ he mutters, like it’s obvious. like it’s true. like you’ll agree without doubt.

you exhale, shaking your head. ‘you’re drunk.’

‘and?’ he counters, stepping into your space, his smirk faltering just slightly. ‘you say that like it changes anything.’

you don’t answer.

because maybe it doesn’t.

he peeled off his hoodie without a word. there are red fingernail marks on the ridge of his spine and bruises on his hips, signs from the girl with perfume you smelled on him last night, the girl who gets to touch caleb in the places you can’t.

he watches you for a long moment, his eyes scanning your face like he’s trying to figure something out. and then, finally—

‘i don’t get it.’ his voice is quieter now, more serious. ‘what did i do?’

you settled back against the bed. ‘nothing.’

‘bullshit.’ he laughs, but there’s no humor in it. ‘you’ve barely looked at me in weeks, y/n. you don’t wait for me anymore. you barely talk to me. and every time i try to touch you, you act like it makes you sick.’ his jaw clenches. ‘so tell me. what the hell did i do?’

you should lie. you should push him away. you should say something sharp, something final, something that makes him leave.

but you don’t.

and caleb, drunk and tired and hurting, sees right through you.

when he reached your fingers, he thread them between your own, collecting all the pieces of your conscience and disappearing without a trace, all remnants of your soul in hand.

his expression shifts, something softer flickering across his face. and then—

his fingers graze your cheek, barely there, like he’s testing the distance between you. the touch is slow, hesitant, deliberate. like he knows he shouldn’t, but he’s never been the type to stop himself when it comes to you.

his hand moves to your hair, tucking it behind your ear with practiced ease, like it’s something second nature, like he’s done it so many times before that he doesn’t even have to think about it.

his thumb lingers, brushing over your cheek, tracing the frustration etched into your skin. it’s warm, careful, almost apologetic. like he’s trying to smooth out the anger, the hurt, the weight of everything unspoken between you.

then, softer than you’ve ever heard him, he murmurs, ‘how can i sleep if my favorite girl is mad at me?’

and when you look at him, really look at him, your breath stumbles in your chest. he knew how to do it. how to make you feel like the sun rises in his veins only for you.

because caleb doesn’t just sound tired. he looks it.

the dim light casts hollows into his features, emphasizing the exhaustion settling deep in his bones. his eyes, usually sharp and full of mischief, are duller now, heavier, shadowed by something that feels dangerously close to regret. there’s no cocky grin, no teasing glint.

just quiet, aching exhaustion.

for the first time, caleb looks small. like the saddest man on earth, like he’s holding onto something he doesn’t know how to fix.

you couldn't help but think of the amount of stars that had fallen with every step he took with a frown.

and it wrecks you.

you wanted to hold him, but you knew you’ll be left with burned fingertips and calloused heart.

because he smells like beer and someone else’s perfume. because there are scratches on his back that weren’t made by your hands. because he has no right to touch you this softly after spending his nights with people who don’t know him the way you do.

because no matter how much you wish you didn’t care. you do.

and so, despite everything, despite the weight pressing against your ribs, despite knowing you shouldn’t. out control, out of control, out of—

you kiss him.

for a tense, breathless second, he didn’t move.

his body stiff, frozen, caught somewhere between hesitation and something else entirely.

and then, you felt it.

his hands sliding up, fingers threading into your hair, gripping tight.

and then for a second. just a second. he kisses you back.

it’s desperate, reckless, a collision of everything you’ve been holding back. his lips taste like beer, and you don’t care. your fingers grip his hair, pulling him closer.

his lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth with a hunger that left you breathless.

a quiet moan escaped you, swallowed by the heat of him, by the way his hands moved down, gripping, pulling, like he couldn’t bear the space between you.

then, he tore himself away from you. friends.

tepping back so fast it felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs. the warmth of his mouth, his hands, his presence, gone in an instant, leaving behind nothing but the sharp contrast of cold in his absence.

your eyes snapped open, breath uneven, pulse hammering as you stared at him, trying to make sense of what had just happened. caleb stood right in front of you, his chest rising and falling too quickly, his disheveled hair messier than before, his lips still swollen from the kiss. his amethyst eyes were dark, unreadable, but something about them made your stomach twist.

because he knew.

he knew what this kiss meant. he knew what you felt, what you had been too afraid to say. he knew you had shattered whatever fragile barrier had been keeping this moment at bay. he knew.

and yet, he smiled.

not the kind that comforted, not the kind that softened his sharp edges. this one was different. it was hollow, something cold curling at the edges, something sharp enough to cut through you with ease.

‘had enough practice?’

his voice was light, almost amused, as if the kiss had been nothing at all, as if it hadn’t just unraveled you completely. you could only stare, frozen in place, his words slicing through you before you even had the chance to process them.

and you took it for what it was, a dagger to the heart.

then, with careful, deliberate movements, he stepped back, putting more space between you, widening a distance that already felt impossible to cross. his hand raked through his hair, a humorless chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no real amusement in it.

‘if you just wanted to get your first kiss over with, you could’ve told me.’ the words were effortless, thrown out like they meant nothing, but there was something in the way his voice faltered at the end that made your stomach drop. his gaze flickered over you for a second, lips curling into something that wasn’t quite a smirk, wasn’t quite anything at all. ‘guess now you’re ready for the real thing with whoever you actually want.’

your mouth opened, but no words came out.

it didn’t matter. caleb didn’t wait for a response. he exhaled sharply, his eyes lingering for a beat too long before he turned away. there was no hesitation in his steps, no second glance, nothing to suggest that this moment had shaken him the way it had shaken you.

and then, just like that, he was gone.

he doesn't think, doesn't wait, doesn't want.

he just leaves.

disappearing into the dark, leaving you standing there, cold, alone, and regretting everything.

and maybe that was the moment you lost him.

y/n and caleb, and it's hard to tell where one end and the other begins. there probably isn't a difference, and trying to draw the line would doom the both of you.

this time, caleb starts avoiding you.

and this time, you know exactly why.

it’s different now. worse. because he doesn’t just disappear at school. he disappears at home, too.

you hear him tell gran he has practice when you know he doesn’t. you catch glimpses of him slipping out late at night, hood up, car keys dangling from his fingers. when he comes back, it’s always late, long after the house has gone quiet.

you pretend not to hear the front door creak open, the careful shuffle of his footsteps down the hall, the way he pauses outside your door for just a second before moving on.

he doesn’t look at you.

not in the morning when you pass each other in the kitchen, not when you sit at opposite ends of the dinner table, not when gran asks him a question and he answers without ever acknowledging the weight of your silence. the air between you is thick, heavy with everything unspoken, but neither of you say a word.

at school, it’s even worse.

you used to know exactly where to find him: leaning against his locker, sprawled across the lunch table, laughing too loudly, always moving, always there. but now, he’s everywhere except near you.

and when you do see him, it’s only for a second. a glance across the hallway before he looks away. a flicker of amethyst eyes lost in a crowd. an almost-moment before he disappears again, slipping into someone else’s world, somewhere you don’t belong.

you should’ve expected this. you should’ve known that kiss, your first kiss, would wreck everything.

but somehow, it still hurts.

and what’s worse, what makes your stomach twist, what makes your skin feel too tight and your throat close up, is that you hate yourself for it.

you hate yourself for wanting it.

for wanting him.

you feel disgusted when you think about it, about how easily you caved, about how much you liked it, about the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips against yours. you hate that even now, when you close your eyes, you can still feel it, still want it, still crave the weight of him against you like a sickness you don’t know how to cure.

so you do what you can. you push forward. you stop waiting.

and that was when you met him.

it started with a name, called out in class like it meant nothing.

‘zayne and y/n.’

your biology teacher paired you together for a semester-long project, and you hadn’t expected anything from it. zayne wasn’t someone you had paid much attention to before, and when he pulled out the chair beside you, there was no hesitation, no awkwardness, just quiet acceptance.

‘looks like we’re partners.’ his tone was even, uninterested, like he was already calculating how much effort this would require.

‘looks like it.’you mirrored his indifference, expecting nothing more than a few study sessions and a forgettable final grade.

but it wasn’t just another assignment.

zayne wasn’t like caleb.

he didn’t overthink his place beside you, didn’t steal glances to gauge what others might think. he wasn’t loud, wasn’t overbearing, didn’t fill the silence with pointless conversation just to make his presence known. he was steady, self-contained, comfortable in the quiet. after weeks of feeling like you were walking on eggshells, that steadiness ws a relief.

at first, your time together was purely academic.

library meetings that were structured and efficient, an easy rhythm of work that never strayed beyond the boundaries of your project. but then, something changed. lunches became routine, neither of you discussing it but always sitting at the same table. walks to class happened naturally, steps falling in sync without effort. conversations stretched beyond assignments and deadlines, carrying into late-night messages about things that had nothing to do with school.

zayne told you about his love for the winter, and how he would sneak out during the first snow fall. you told him about the time you and caleb got caught sneaking out, how caleb had talked his way out of trouble while you stood there panicking.

unlike caleb, zayne didn’t tease, didn’t turn your stories into jokes at your expense. he just listened, nodded like he was actually picturing it.

too kind, too understanding, too much of exactly what you needed.

somewhere along the way, you became friends. and soon, you were always together.

dinners with gran started to change. it used to be the three of you. gran, caleb, and you.

but caleb started skipping them, claiming he was busy, always finding somewhere else to be, never home long enough for it to feel like anything but an excuse.

zayne, on the other hand, filled the space caleb left behind.

it started as a casual invitation.

gran insisting he stay after studying, reassuring him there was more than enough food. he had accepted without fuss, without hesitation, and from that night on, his place at the table never felt out of place. gran told stories you had heard a thousand times before, and zayne listened to every one of them, nodding along, asking questions like he hadn’t already picked up on the details from you.

he wasn’t a replacement for caleb.

but he was something constant.

then one afternoon, you and zayne crossed paths with caleb in the hallway.

there was no tension, no hesitation, no moment of discomfort where zayne second-guessed himself. he just looked at caleb, gave a simple nod in acknowledgment, and kept walking, like it was nothing.

like caleb was no one special.

like he wasn’t even worth a second thought.

caleb didn’t say anything. he just stood there, watching.

but you knew that wasn’t the end of it.

and you were right.

the moment the wrong boy fell in love with you. and you wished he could pull out your heart, and make him see that you fell in love with the wrong boy too.

that was why you were here, standing in the biting cold, surrounded by barren fields of frost, with zayne’s rare laughter curling into the air like something warm, something that was meant to feel safe. that was why you let him get close, why you let yourself believe, even for a moment, that this could be enough.

you shouldn’t have been thinking about caleb.

so you focused on the wrong boy instead.

on the way his voice carried in the quiet, on how he walked beside you without hesitation, how his presence didn’t ask for anything more than what you were willing to give. he wasn’t waiting for you to figure things out, wasn’t demanding answers you didn’t have. he was just there. steady. certain.

maybe that was what love was supposed to feel like when you didn’t want it. something easy, something quiet, something that didn’t threaten to tear you apart.

but it still didn’t fit right in your chest.

‘we’re here.’

zayne’s voice pulled you back, his excitement evident in his eyes as he gestured toward the sled he had set up.

you blinked at it, then at him. ‘are you serious?’

he grinned, brushing the snow off the seat before tossing his scarf around your shoulders, adjusting it with careful hands. the fabric was thick and slightly uneven, the pattern something you wouldn’t have picked for yourself, but it was warm, and it smelled like him.

you raised an eyebrow, eyeing the details.

‘gran taught me how to knit,’ he admitted, a flicker of amusement in his expression.

your fingers traced the edges of the scarf as you exhaled. ‘it’s nice.’

and it was.

you didn’t know whether to laugh or cry over how endearing it was, how easily he gave things to you, how much he seemed to mean it. he could have handed you anything, and you would have taken it, because this. this moment, this feeling. was already too much.

then, without a word, he just looked at you.

not a passing glance. not a fleeting moment of consideration.

zayne never did things halfway.

when he looked at you, he made sure you knew.

his hazel eyes were bright despite the winter gray, his expression unreadable but not indifferent. there was something certain about the way he watched you, something steady in the way his gaze settled, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

like he took in every detail.

the way the cold had flushed your cheeks, the way your breath curled into the air, the way the weight of the moment made your fingers tremble against the scarf.

‘is there something on my face?’ you asked, startled by the intensity in his stare.

he shook his head, his gaze flickering slightly before settling again. ‘i wish i had more time with you.’

the words were quiet, simple, but the weight of them landed hard.

you swallowed, pulse stuttering, because there was something in the way he said it that made your chest ache. he didn’t say it like a passing thought, didn’t say it like he was reaching for something just out of grasp. he said it like he knew.

like he already understood that whatever this was, whatever you were, had an expiration date.

his eyes dropped, just for a second, barely noticeable, but enough.

enough to know what he was thinking.

enough to know that if you leaned in, he wouldn’t stop you.

and for a fleeting moment, you wanted to.

not because it was right. not because it was real.

but because you needed to forget.

you needed something to press over the ache in your chest, something to drown out the weight of caleb’s absence, the sound of his voice in your head, the way he had always, always been there. until he wasn’t.

but you didn’t.

because it would have been a lie.

‘gran, we’ve talked about this—‘

caleb’s voice cut through the air, sharp with frustration, breaking the moment before it had the chance to solidify into something real.

‘no, you talked. an aviation school halfway across the country? when there are good ones right here? what’s wrong with being close to home?’

the front door creaked open, and as if time couldn’t be any crueler, gran and caleb stepped outside.

his presence was immediate, impossible to ignore.

caleb had always carried himself like he belonged in any space he occupied, but now, standing in the cold with the weight of an argument still lingering between him and gran, he felt like something distant. something storming just beneath the surface, unreadable and untouchable.

zayne sighed, shifting beside you, but you barely noticed.

because while he was looking at you, you were looking at caleb.

your stomach twisted, the weight in your chest pressing down harder, suffocating in a way you didn’t understand.

‘and i know it’s far. i know it’s hard. but it’s not about running away.’ caleb’s voice was firm, steady, like he had already made up his mind. he barely hesitated before adding, ‘this is what’s best for me. for all of us.’

and just like that, it was over.

he turned before anyone could argue, before you could even process what he had said, stepping back into the warmth of the house.

the door clicked shut behind him, and somehow, that sound felt louder than anything else.

you don't know what's love and what's hate now. if there is a difference between the two of you, y/n and caleb, here.

later that evening, you fell.

it was late, exhaustion pulling at your limbs as you trudged up the stairs, arms full of books. zayne followed a few steps behind, his pace unhurried, hands tucked into his pockets as he listened to you yap.

you were mid-sentence, distracted by the conversation, too focused on the warmth of another presence at your side to notice the uneven step beneath your feet.

your toe caught the edge, and before you could react, your balance shifted forward. books tilted dangerously in your grasp before slipping from your fingers as gravity pulled you down. your stomach lurched, breath catching in your throat—

but you never hit the ground.

zayne’s hand wrapped firmly around your wrist, his other pressing against your waist with steady ease. his grip was strong, grounding, keeping you upright before you even had the chance to panic. your breathing was uneven, heart hammering from the sudden shock, your body tensed from the lingering adrenaline.

for a moment, neither of you moved.

his fingers still pressed against your skin, his touch neither hurried or hesitant. . he had caught you, steadied you, and yet he didn’t let go.

you became painfully aware of the way his chest hovered just inches from yours, the warmth of his palm burning through your shirt.

when you looked up at him, his expression was unreadable. calm, composed, but something else lingered beneath the surface. he wasn’t just looking at you. he was waiting.

waiting for you to move. waiting for you to step back. waiting for your permission.

and that was what made your pulse stutter.

it’s too much and it’s never enough.

you should have pulled away. should have created space. should have let the moment pass as nothing more than a near fall. but you didn’t.

because then, his gaze flickered. just slightly, just for a second. before his eyes dropped to your lips.

your breath hitched, and before you could process what was happening, a voice shattered the moment.

‘y/n? zayne?’

gran’s voice, light, amused, pulling you back to reality.

and then—

‘what the fuck?’

caleb.

your entire body locked up, tension snapping through your muscles as your head turned toward the sound.

he stood at the end of the hall, unmoving, his eyes dark, expression unreadable. his jaw clenched, the muscle ticking, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides.

he wasn’t just watching. he was seeing something he wasn’t supposed to.

zayne, still close, exhaled a quiet chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck, as if this was nothing, as if caleb wasn’t standing there barely a few feet away. gran smirked, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening.

caleb did not.

he didn’t speak, didn’t demand an explanation, didn’t so much as glance in your direction. he just turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing down the hall without another word.

and somehow, that was worse.

dinner was slow, thick with something unspoken, the weight of the evening settling over the table like a fog.

gran, as oblivious as ever, carried the conversation, her voice the only thing filling the silence. ‘he’s going to be a doctor, y/n,’ she said, beaming like it was something worth celebrating.

zayne gave a polite shake of his head, still eating, still composed, his presence unwavering despite the obvious tension in the room. ‘still got a long way to go.’

but the real shift came when caleb sat down.

for the first time in weeks, he joined dinner.

he didn’t make an excuse, didn’t disappear before the plates hit the table, didn’t claim to have somewhere else to be.

he was here. silent, stiff, but here.

his fork scraped against his plate, but he barely ate. his shoulders were tense, his fingers gripping the edge of the table just a little too tightly. he answered when spoken to, voice clipped, his eyes fixed on his food, refusing to meet yours.

zayne, on the other hand, didn’t react. he carried himself with the same quiet steadiness as always, like nothing had changed, like caleb’s presence, or his anger, meant nothing to him. he didn’t fidget, didn’t acknowledge the storm brewing across the table, didn’t shift under the weight of caleb’s unspoken frustration.

and that made it worse.

but you noticed.

caleb was stiff, his usual relaxed posture replaced with something rigid, something tense. his grip on his fork was just a little too tight, his knuckles flexing under the strain. he barely touched his food, answering gran’s questions with clipped responses, his voice measured, controlled.

through it all, he never once looked at you.

your stomach twisted, the weight of his silence pressing down on you more than any harsh words ever could. it wasn’t like caleb to hold back, it wasn't like him to sit in the same room as you and act as if you didn’t exist. but tonight, he was locked in his own storm, letting it brew under the surface, making sure you felt it, even if he refused to acknowledge you.

then, after zayne left, gran turned to caleb, her gaze slow and assessing, studying him the way only she could. she took a sip of her tea, setting the cup down with a quiet clink before speaking, her tone light but deliberate.

‘zayne is a good boy, but whether he’s good enough for you...’ she let the words linger just long enough to make them feel heavier before tilting her head toward caleb, watching for a reaction. ‘what do you think, caleb?’

the shift in him was subtle.

a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of something unreadable in his expression, the barely-there twitch of his fingers against the table. you barely had time to process it before he moved, smooth and purposefully, his arm slipping around your shoulders like it belonged there.

his grip was warm, steady, and possessive.

‘i think,’ he said, his voice softer than usual, the perfect balance of ease and sincerity, ‘as long as pipsqueak’s happy, then i’m happy too.’

the words were convincing.

to anyone else, they would have sounded effortless, genuine even. but you knew him. you knew the calm in his voice when he was anything but. you knew the way he smiled when he wanted to bite back something sharper. you knew the restraint in his touch, the tension running just beneath the surface.

and right now, caleb wasn’t just mad.

he was furious.

furious that you had kept something from him. furious that you had let someone else too close. furious that, for the first time, there wasn’t a single thing he could do about it.

later that night, when you knock on his door, he opens it immediately, like he had been waiting.

the hallway is dim, the only light spilling from his room, casting sharp shadows across his face. the space between you feels suffocating, thick with something unspoken, something heavy you aren’t ready to name.

his expression is unreadable, his face carefully blank, but you see it anyway.

the tension in his shoulders, the way his grip tightens around the doorknob, the barely restrained control in the way he stands, like he’s holding himself back.

your pulse thrums in your throat as you force the words out. ‘did you mean it?’

caleb doesn’t move, doesn’t blink, his silence stretching unbearably between you.

you swallow hard, pushing forward even as your stomach twists. ‘as long as i’m happy?’

a second passes, then another. his jaw tightens, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face before he finally answers.

‘no.’

the word lands between you like a blow. it should make things clearer, should make it easier to understand, but instead, it only makes everything worse.

you shift on your feet, your heartbeat hammering against your ribs, but caleb just watches you, his amethyst eyes locked onto yours in a way that makes it impossible to breathe.

‘then why are you acting like this?’

there's a crack in his surface, his electric electric eyes gleaming in undetectable, hidden message. his expression was a clear indication to what he felt.he wasn't ready to hear that.

his exhale is slow, controlled, measured, but there’s something beneath it, somehing restrained. and then, just as carefully, he says it.

‘get rid of him.’

the command slices through the air, sharp and undeniable, like a final puzzle piece snapping into place. your stomach drops at the certainty in his voice, at the quiet weight behind his words.

‘i-i can’t.’ the response comes out weak, barely more than a whisper, but it’s the only thing you can give him.

something in caleb shifts instantly. his body tenses, his expression sharpening as his focus narrows completely onto you. his movements are deliberate, controlled, like he’s making a conscious effort not to move too fast, not to let whatever he’s feeling slip past the careful edges of his restraint.

‘what do you mean you can’t?’ his voice is low, steady, but there’s an edge to it, a dangerous thread of something unraveling just beneath the surface.

you look away, knowing that whatever comes next will change everything. ‘i don’t want to hurt him.’

the silence that follows is heavier than anything he could have said.

his lips press into a thin line, his shoulders squaring as the warmth in his eyes fades into something colder, something unreadable. his posture doesn’t change, but the shift in the air between you is unmistakable.

‘so you’d rather hurt me?’

the words hit you harder than they should. you weren’t prepared for them, weren’t expecting the weight they carried, the way they landed with a finality that made your chest ache.

your throat tightens, and for a moment, you don’t know what to say, don’t know how to fix whatever just cracked open between you. but caleb doesn’t look away, doesn’t take it back, doesn’t even flinch as the meaning behind his own words settles over him.

his gaze flickers, the muscle in his jaw tightening before he exhales sharply, like he’s regretting letting you see this part of him.

‘are you saying… you’re jealous?’ the words feel too fragile, too uncertain, but they leave your lips before you can stop them.

for a moment, he doesn’t move.

doesn’t breathe.

you expect him to deny it, to roll his eyes, to throw some dismissive remark at you like he always does. you expect him to do what he’s best at, pretend it doesn’t matter.

but he doesn’t.

he just watches you, his silence heavier than any answer he could have given. and then—slowly, carefully—he smirks.

‘if you want me to say i’m jealous, i will.’

his voice is smooth, effortless, light in a way that only makes your stomach twist. it should be reassuring, should make this moment feel less like a breaking point, but it doesn’t.

because it’s too easy. too casual.

like he’s still pretending.

like he’s still keeping you at a distance.

your fingers curl into fists at your sides as the frustration rises, your voice barely more than a murmur. ‘you could have just lied.’

caleb exhales sharply, tilting his head slightly, and then he moves.

too close. you're too close together for just friends.

your back presses against the wall before you even realize you’ve stepped back. his presence is everywhere, surrounding you, his warmth pulling you in even when you know you should push him away.

and then his hands are on your face, fingers cupping your jaw, steady and warm, grounding in a way that makes it impossible to think.

your pulse jumps, a sharp inhale catching in your throat as his amethyst eyes lock onto yours, the distance between you disappearing entirely. there’s no teasing in his gaze this time, no smirk, no sarcasm.

just heat.

just certainty.

his thumb brushes against your cheek, slow, deliberate, like he’s memorizing the feel of you, like he needs to. and then, his voice drops lower, softer, barely above a whisper.

‘i am jealous, baby.’

a pause.

a beat of silence so heavy you can feel it in your ribs.

his fingers tighten just slightly, his grip firm but careful, like he’s making sure you don’t move, like he doesn’t want you to look away.

you're trying to not cry now but you missed everything you never had.

and then—

‘more than you think possible.’

2K notes · View notes

definitelynotanalien · 2 months ago

Text

Blue Lock guys after pound town (the trend yk)

feat: Hyoma Chigiri, Michael Kaiser, Sae Itoshi, Tabito Karasu, Reo Mikage

tw: mentions of sex, slurs

Inspired by this post by @captainshindo

pound town, supposedly the closest a person could get to another.

Perhaps because of the use of sexual organs, or the physical action of being inside another, or even because of the pleasure that could result from the experience.

Who wouldn’t want to gain that pleasure, no matter how short term it was?

You.

The answer was you.

Currently you’re sitting at some nowhere diner, eating the greasy fries whilst you lean on the side of the booth. Opposing you is Hyoma Chigiri, one of the star players for the Manshine’s team, and your boyfriend.

He’s sipping his cola, stealing a fry from you every once in a while, despite your objections, afterall this is supposed to be your treat after being subjected to the butral rounds he put you through. Your legs clench at the thought.

Hyoma is watching you with an eager glint in his eyes, his composure steady, barely changing aside from an occasional vibration or two.

The pair of you had just finished a rather intense round, and decided to go out for fast food instead of just ordering take out like normal people.

You’re practically trembling, struggling to keep up any facade of normalcy as you painstakingly retrieve a small fry.

“It wasn’t that bad.” Hyoma interjects your thoughts with a small smirk, taking his half eaten french fry and dipping it into the sauce before plopping it into his mouth.

You glare at him, completely deadpan. “I can barely walk right now.”

Hyoma laughs, covering his mouth with a hand as he delightedly looks at your face.

“Skill issue.” He comments.

You drop a fry.

“We’re never fucking again.” You say, shaking your head smoothly.

Hyoma gapes, his pretty swollen pink lips separating for a moment in mock offense.

He knows you don’t actually mean it, you’re just using it as a playful way to tease the boy, even if you were serious he knows you’ll come back to him sooner or later.

“But you like it soo much~” He teases, putting his arm over the table to nudge your shoulder, making you lose the support of the booth chair

You don’t bother to give him a response.

Michael Kaiser stares at you with a victorious glint as he takes a bite of his burger.

You’re sitting in front of him, leaning your head back and staring up at the ceiling as you contemplate life, and as you struggle to even pick up your own burger, let alone eat any of it.

His blond hair is fluffed up ever so slightly more than usual, it’s not as bad as his bed head, but it looks the same as it does after a competitive match.

You’re struggling to keep your composure, switching between trying to eat and staring at the ceiling, you hear a snicker.

“Talk so big yet you can’t take it?” He remarks, it’s posed as a question and yet it sounds more like an observation.

You shake your head, and choose to smash it against the table in front of you, narrowly avoiding your plate.

You groan, “Not when I’m taking so big.”

Michael chokes on his water, a rare moment of shock.

Then he returns to his usual cocky persona, leaning his head on his hand. “You really shouldn’t say that in public, liebling, it makes me want to do it again.”

Michael takes another large bite of his burger, practically unhinging his jaw. He wipes off any remaining sauce with a tissue.

“There is no next time.” You respond, lifting your head off the table and weakly attempting to eat some of your treat.

He laughs, it’s twisted and much too confident for his own good, yet for some reason it makes him seem even more endearing as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Don’t lie, we both know you can’t resist me.” Michael teases, twirling a strand of his blond-blue locks with a finger, he makes a crude scissoring gesture as he splits the piece of hair in half, it makes you flush.

You smash your head into the table again, having officially given up.

The pink haired man sitting in front of you narrows his eyes, twirling the metal straw that leads to his beverage as Sae Itoshi calmly looks over your appearance.

The two of you are sat in Sae’s apartment, a bag of fast food pushed to the side of his marble countertops as you lean on his kitchen’s island.

Sae regards you with a judgemental glance, looking over your disheveled appearance as he comments, “You know those aren’t good for you?”

You pause, a couple of french fries in hand. You begin to slowly guide them towards your mouth, eating them with careful consideration.

“I don’t care.” You respond, shrugging as your partner glares down at you.

Sae looks like an angry porcupine as he crosses his arms. He takes a tentative sip from his glass of ice cold water, and he contemplates forcing you to eat something actually healthy, although he doubts it would go over well with you.

“Don’t come crying to me later, then.” He turns away from you, as if about to walk off, then he turns back towards you to make another point. “You know-“

You cut him off, “Shut up.”

He raises his eyebrows, and lightly flicks your forehead. You make an over exaggerated groan at the movement, and Sae smirks.

“Stop being pissy, I’m just telling the truth.” He says bluntly, a subtle glimmer of affection in his eyes.

You reach to take another fry, and Sae lightly swats your hand, you glare. He already bought it, so why wasn’t he letting you eat it.

“If you keep at it, you’ll never get to hit this again.” You declare, shaking your head slowly.

Sae pauses, tilting his head to the side and staring at you with blank eyes, “Hit this…?” he asks, wrinkling his eyebrows.

You forgot that Sae is chronically offline.

“Nevermind.”

A warm smell fills the air, and a sizzling sound ceases. You’re sitting at your dining room table, leaning back and facing your face to the ceiling.

Tabito Karasu sets a plate, and some chopsticks in front of you. He grabs a few other dishes from the kitchen, his hair floppy and free from hair wax. It’s a domestic scene, especially since you’ve just been brutally railed, and you’re enjoying it.

Every so often your thighs shake from the previous overstimulation, and as it happens when Tabito sets the final dish on the table, he flashes you his signature grin.

“Don’t look at me like that.” You deflect, gripping your chair and pulling it closer to the table.

Tabito laughs crisply, it’s warm and inviting, you want to hear it over and over again.

“Like what?” He asks, leaning towards you ever so slightly.

You feel your cheeks start to warm as he runs a hand through his hair, his beautiful hair wax free hair.

You hesitate to place anything on your plate, worried that you’ll struggle to use the chopsticks he so nicely face you, as your hands tremble.

Tabito notices. He picks up some food and starts to place it onto your plate, giving you generous amounts. “Next time I’ll go easier.”

You pause, flustered. Tabito finishes giving you food, and goes into the kitchen to grab a knife, fork, and spoon just in case. He places them onto the table, so you can use them if you can’t use chopsticks anymore.

Your heart swells, and you’re delighted by the fact that this man is your boyfriend, especially when you dig in and taste a delicious home cooked meal.

“What makes you think there will be a next time?” You comment in between bites, with a small smile.

He stares down at you, and smirks.

Reo Mikage looks down at you pitifully, as if begging you not to do this.

It’s late, and you’re surprisingly hungry after quite a few rounds, of course Reo isn’t, considering how desperate he was eating you earlier.

You’re laying in bed, and scrolling through a delivery app on your phone, Reo sits up next to you, looking at your phone.

“You realise I have private chefs?” He comments, running his fingers through your freshly washed hair with a gentle smile.

You tap your order into the delivery app, choosing to buy from a quick and easy fast food place.

“It’s too late to call on them.” You rebutt his comment, clicking onto the pay section of the app.

Reo sighs, stretching his arms up and shuffling towards the edge of the bed. He starts to try to leave the warmth of the bed, but you wrap your quivering legs around him.

He grins, “I can make you something myself.”, Reo behind to squirm his way out of your legs and bed. Unfortunately your legs seem to have lost the strength they possessed during your earlier endeavours.

You groan, tossing your phone to the side and grabbing Reo’s torso with your hands.

“I want fast food.” You demand, holding onto him tightly and using all your body weight to make him stay. It’s a helpless thing, as your boyfriend is incredibly strong due to his time in Manshine and his job as a professional footballer, but nevertheless!

Reo groans, “But it’s rather… unhealthy and greasy.” he explains, still ready to leave the bed to make you something. If he does, you’re sure you’ll kill him.

You smirk, a mischievous idea on your mind, and you pull yourself towards your boyfriend to kiss him right next to his mouth.

“Like you.” You say, pushing away from him.

Reo rolls his eyes, and stays in bed, shuffling towards the middle once more.

“I despise that comparison.”

2K notes · View notes

0097linersb · 9 months ago

Text

Sour Candy (m)

Pairings: Mingi x Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 5k~

Warnings: Very very very needy Mingi, wouldn't say exactly sub!mingi but kind of sub!mingi u know, good boi´s just very desperate. consent lines are kind of blurred in this one so pls skip if it makes u uncomfortable, this was just written in like an hour with absolutely no thoughts or grammar-checking, head empty only filled with crying whiny men <3

Follow me on twitter: wooyosgfreal <3

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

“What time did Yunho say he was coming back again?” You asked for about the fourth time that afternoon.

“In like an hour or two,” Mingi answered patiently like he did all the other times you asked before. “Bro, why do you hate me?”

“Because you keep making me play this boring game and it really fucking sucks.”

“That´s just because you´re bad at it.”

“You´re literally worse than me.”

“Maybe modernity was wrong all along, maybe women really shouldn´t be allowed to have opinions.”

“It is a fact, not an opinion. Maybe you men should still be in planes being shipped off to war and leave us alone.”

“Fine. Do you want to play something else, princess?”

“Let´s play Overcooked,” You squealed.

Mingi didn´t even groan this time when you mentioned the game you and Seonghwa were obsessing over lately, simply going back to the home screen on Yunho´s Playstation and looking for the colorful icon. He knew there was no arguing with you.

While the game was loading, Mingi handed you the main controller and stood up, fixing his shirt that had scrunched up and stretching his back, “Set everything up, I´m gonna go find some snacks.”

You happily did as told, driving your little animated truck towards the level you had last failed at and playing with your phone to wait for your friend, at least until your vision was blocked by said friend pushing a red plastic bag in front of your face.

“What´s that?” You asked, already reaching into the bag and picking up one of the soft candies inside.

Mingi simply shrugged, already chewing on one of the jellies, “Dunno, found them in the kitchen. They´re pretty good though.”

You trusted his words, popping the candy into your mouth and waiting for the flavors to kick in - and hell you wish you didn´t.

“Oh my god this is disgusting,” Your face contorts in distaste.

“It´s cinnamon,” Mingi stares you down, clearly not amused.

“Yeah, with candle wax. Ew.”

“Just swallow it and stop being a baby.”

“I will literally kill myself.”

He gave you another judgmental glare and sat down next to you on the couch once again, already reaching for his third candy from hell as you forced yourself to let it slide down your throat. You handed him the main remote and picked up the secondary one, coughing to see if flowing some air into your lungs would get the taste of rotten papaya out of your mouth.

“Maybe it´s poison that Yunho left out as a trap because you keep stealing his food.”

“Nah, it was right on top of the counter,” He waved it off, pressing play on the game.

“My point stands.”

“Yeah, whatever.”

“You´re very eloquent today.”

“You´re very annoying today.”

“The salmon Mingi, the fucking salmon!!”

“I´m getting it!”

“Bro, you gotta throw it!”

“Fuck. I know, but if I leave the fucking rice is going to burn.”

“I´m throwing you more rice.”

“I don´t need it.”

“Yes, you do. Oh my god.”

“What I do need are some clean plates.”

“Oh, yeah. On it.”

“Why do you like this game?” He groaned, cleaning the sweat from his forehead and reaching for another candy in the bag. “You´re making me stress eat.”

“Doesn´t it make you feel pumped?”

“Yeah, pumped to punch the TV.”

“We have one more minute, we can do it if you stop being dumb.”

“There are literally two plates on the counter ready to go and you haven´t delivered them yet.”

“Jeez, done. Can you slice me some tomatoes?”

“One sec,” He answered, mouth full of yet another candy.

“It would be faster if you would just stop eating.”

“We´re not making it anyways, let me enjoy one thing at least.”

And he was right: a few seconds later the TV screen was filled with the sad numbers displaying how you didn´t reach the minimum score - didn´t even come close to it in fact.

Mingi let out his frustrations by popping the nth white jelly past his lips and you stared at him in disgust, reaching for the bag to understand what that malevolent creation even was.

“Huh...”

“What?” He asked.

“Hm, I mean, this is all in German or Dutch but I´m pretty sure this word means aphrodisiac.”

“Come again?” His mouth was hanging open mid chew, unblinking eyes staring at you.

“Hm, yeah. Wasn´t Yunho´s friend just in Amsterdam? The one with the big smile? Maybe he brought those as a souvenir, since you know, it´s Amsterdam. Like, ‘haha look at this candy that makes you horny´.”

“Oh, yeah. But it´s like a placebo touristy thing, right?” He laughed nervously. “Like, these won´t actually make me horny, right?”

“Nah, I don´t think this kind of stuff works. It´s probably just for shit and giggles. Do you feel any different?”

“I don´t know, my heart is beating faster. I think I´m going to die.”

“Mingi, relax. Now it´s probably just because you´re nervous.”

“No, what if there´s some kind of drug in these? I ate almost 10 of them! Oh my god I´m going to die. Am I going to overdose, Y/N? What if I start hallucinating?”

He was being a bit overdramatic, but he did have genuine concerns.

“Wait, let me call Yunho.”

Mingi didn´t even hear you, too busy at his own pity party as he whined and stared at the bag´s labels like he could suddenly speak Dutch.

“Y/N?” Yunho´s voice filled your ears.

“Hm, hi. Sorry to bother you at work but we´ve kind of got a situation.”

“Oh my god, did Mingi break my door playing with the bar? I already told him-”

“No, nothing like that. Huh, do you know that candy that you left on the kitchen counter?”

“What? No. What cand- Oh. Oh.”

“Huh, yeah. So... Mingi found it and ate like 10 of them?”

“Y/N.”

“Is that bad? He´s kind of freaking out, he´s afraid there´s like drugs in them or something.”

“There are some stimulants in them but like, in minor quantities. He won´t die because of it. But bro, bro.”

“What?” You whined, Yunho´s tone making you anxious.

“He had 10 of them? San had like 3 and said he was at it for hours.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

“So I guess these do work, huh?”

“Haven´t tried them, but from what San says it´s some strong shit. Did you take any?”

“Just like one, tastes like organic trash.”

“Yeah, good. Let me know how it goes, please just stay out of my bedroom.”

“Your bedroom? Why would- What are you trying to imply, Jeong Yunho?”

“Oh shit, client calling. Byeee,” He laughed. “Stupid.”

As soon as you put your phone away, Mingi stopped talking to himself like a mad man and stared at you with big hopeful eyes.

“I have good news and bad news.”

“Am I going to die?”

“That´s the good news: no, you´re not. No.”

“And what are the bad news?”

“Apparently you will get very horny, though.”

He froze at your words, looking down at his pants, “I don´t feel it, though.”

“Maybe you won´t, it might be different for everyone,” You shrug, standing up and grabbing your sweater. “All I know is that I am leaving because if it does happen, that´s not a sight I want to be here for.”

“Please no,” Mingi whined, literally throwing himself on his knees to catch your arm before you could walk away. “Don´t leave me alone here. I just ingested unknown substances, what if my body reacts badly and I actually die? What if I throw up and drown in my own puke here all alone?”

Once again, over-dramatic but right.

“Yeah, you´re right,” You sighed. “I would still rather die than see you with a boner so here´s what we´re gonna do: I´m locking myself in Yunho´s room and you can freely roam the apartment and do whatever you want, I´ll check up on you every few minutes. Sounds good?”

“Yeah, ok,” Mingi agreed.

“Also, if you´re going to like - ” You motioned vaguely towards his pants hoping he would get what you were trying to say. “Give me a heads up so I can put on some earphones.”

“Oh my god,” He whined in shame, cheeks going flush. “Yeah, ok.”

“Ok, good. Huh, bye,” You awkwardly waved as you made your way towards Yunho´s room. “Good luck.”

You closed the door behind you, hearing as Mingi opened some other game back in the living room. There was not much to do in Yunho´s room so you decided to lay in bed and scroll through Tiktok until Mingi stopped thinking he was going to die and you could leave. Also, you did eat one of the candies too, so you guessed that if they did work, you would feel it as well.

10 minutes later you still heard Mingi normally playing and cursing outside, but you still decided to yell out an “Everything good?” just to be sure.

“Yeah!” Was his answer.

Another 15 minutes went by, and you shot him a text.

Not dead yet?

Mings: Still good, I don´t think these things actually work.

Maybe Yunho was just messing with us.

Mings: Yeah, fucking asshole.

You went back to watching your silly little videos, not even noticing the time passing or how everything suddenly went quiet outside. Over half an hour had gone by when your ears finally perked up at the lack of your friend´s loudness.

You sat up in bed worried.

You good?

No answer.

Mingi?

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You were already picturing his dead body looking all stupid on Yunho´s carpet, thinking about how you were going to explain to the paramedics that he died because he ate too much horny candy.

No, even worse: How would you explain this to his family?

Oh, no. Not your best friend. How would you live without him? You liked teasing him and you bickered a lot but you love-

Your little spiral of insanity was interrupted by a knock on the door and your body was finally able to move after how it had been paralyzed with fear for a few minutes.

“Mingi?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, thank god. You scared the shit out of me,” You took a deep breath in relief, staring at Yunho´s white door. “What´s up?”

“Huh, can I come in?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his tone.

Something sounded weird about this.

“Sure,” You answered skeptically.

Mingi opened the door and came in, head cast down and gaze not meeting your eyes.

“What´s wrong-” You started asking worriedly, about to jump out of the bed to go check up on him before your eyes finally zeroed in on the very prominent bulge in his pants. “Song Mingi! What the fuck?”

“I- I don´t know what to do,” His eyes finally met yours, cheeks tinted in pink and hands trembling. He looked at you like a kicked puppy.

“And what do I have to do with it? Go deal with it yourself. Eeew, we talked about this,” You raised your hand in the air to try and block the bottom half of Mingi from your line of vision.

“I already did,” He groaned, rubbing his face in frustration. “Twice.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Nothing fucking works - and also, I just can´t stop thinking about you.”

“What?” You never heard your voice go so high before. “Nuh uh, we´re not going there. Absolutely not.”

“I´m not happy about it either, ok?” His fingers were squeezing the corner of the door so thigh they were almost white. “Just please, help me out this once. Please.”

Oh.

You just prayed that the reason you started clenching around nothing was because the candy was finally kicking in and not because stupid Song Mingi was practically begging in front of you.

“No!” You screeched, weirded out by your own sudden reaction. “This isn´t you talking, it´s just th stupid candy, you´ll regret it after it wears off -”

“No but I won´t,” He disagreed, closing the door and rushing towards you like a madman in three large strides.

You had never seen him like this, you never once in a million years could have gone as far as even imagining the look in his eyes right now.

“Fuck. It´s just - your skin is so soft, you know?” Mingi pushed the covers to the side so his hand could squeeze your thigh, his knees dipping into the mattress as he crawled on top of you. You were too shocked to move away, frozen in place with your mouth open wide, not really knowing what to do as he rubbed the palm of his hands up and down your skin, squeezing it occasionally with a heavy breath like he had just reached heaven´s gate.

“Mingi,” You warned, but your voice didn´t sound that threatening anymore.

“Please, just once,” He breathed out, practically rubbing himself against your body like a cat in heat forcing you to slowly lie back in the bed, his hands gently guiding yours over your head as you slid down. You looked up at his glazed eyes, at the way his hands were shaking around your wrists, the way he was discreetly rutting against your thigh without even realizing he was doing it. He looked so vulnerable and frenzied – And it was doing something to you.

“Mingi,” You whined, not even sure what you were trying to say or do.

“You kept walking around with this white top all day,” He let out a broken groan, looking down at said top. “Your boobs look amazing in it. I just- I – Can I?”

His begging eyes were enough to get you automatically nodding before even realizing what you were agreeing to - When you did process what he was asking for though, his right hand was already squeezing your boobs and kneading at them like his life depended on it, his calloused fingers firm on your body. You could feel how hard he was every time he subconsciously ground against you, shaky hot breaths leaving his lips and hitting the sensitive skin on the side of your neck where his plump soft lips kept lightly brushing against with every move.

Mingi took advantage of the position, sucking against your vein and leaving pleas in the form of little kisses around your skin. His thumb played with your nipple and your hands were still abandoned on top of your head against the sheets, not sure if you would really let this happen yet - but Mingi didn´t seem to mind, too lost in worshipping you into compliance.

“I need to fuck you. Like, right now. I´ll - I´ll make you feel good too, I promise,” The shakier and breathier his voice sounded the wetter you got. “I promise. I promise. Please. We -we don´t even need to fuck I can – I can – Let me – Just the tip- Anything-”

“Just the tip?”

“Yeah,” He eagerly nodded, his eyes so hopeful you could melt.

“Ok,” You agreed, physically not being able to say no to his pleading eyes.

“Fuck,” He groaned in surprise, not actually thinking you would agree to it - But since you did, he wasted no time and made quick work of practically ripping your cotton short down your legs in one harsh tug. “Under normal circumstances I would, you know – But, I – right now I – I can´t.”

“It´s ok,” You assured, afraid he would actually cry if you made him wait another single second with how desperate he was.

He hooked his finger on the bottom of your panties and pushed them to the side, not even being able to take them out. He stared at your pussy for a moment, his eyes looking even more insane than before at the sight, like he would actually growl at you.

“Fuck,” Mingi cursed as he went out of the little trance he was in, pushing his sweater pants and boxers down in a rush - once again not even bothering with taking them all out.

And oh fuck.

His cock was so hard you could imagine how it actually hurt; it throbbed against the skin of his abdomen without even being touched, looking swollen and angry with all the veins surrounding it - And man were you glad you agreed on just the tip because there was just no way that would fit without a lot of preparation first. Even with how wet you were right now. Who knew?

Mingi leaned on top of you once again, one arm supporting the weight of his body in between your legs as he gently guided his dick up and down your folds, his eyes closing at the feeling, a violent shiver taking over his thighs and up his spine with a loud groan.

Like he had absolutely no control over his body, Mingi positioned himself against your entrance, slowly pushing just a little bit in as promised.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” His groans sounded so raw against your ear as he cursed over the initial resistance of your walls, his forehead meeting your neck to try and ground himself.

You even let a moan out yourself because this was absolute madness, it felt insane. Your whole body was buzzing like you were electrified, your fingers ached to scratch Mingi´s back and pull him all the way in - Damn, those candies were good.

And you only had one.

“Y/N, fuck,” Mingi gasped as he started moving his hips in shallow little thrusts so he wouldn´t break your agreement. “Ah - Ah. I can´t think strai - You´re so pretty. Fuck, fuck.”

His lips met your neck once again, messy kisses full of saliva and teeth as he shuddered on top of you, leaving marks that would soon turn purple. You could feel how tense every single muscle in his body was as he fought against himself to not rut deeper into you every time he moved, and you were biting onto your lip so hard to keep the noises inside that you could taste blood.

“Thank you, thank you,” You shivered at the way cold air hit your neck when Mingi pulled back a bit to look you in the eye, “Can I go ah- a little deeper, please? Just a little. It feels so good, I need ah- more. Fuck.”

“Mingi.”

“Please,” He cried out and you just couldn´t believe the sight in front of you.

Tall big strong Song Mingi with the deep voice, reduced to a disheveled delirious mess. His ashy blond hair rumpled, his cheeks burning pink and skin glistening with sweat, his pupils huge and shiny and he just looked so disheartened that it was breaking your heart to not let him just use you however he wanted.

“I need you,” He agonized, his right arm clinging onto your shoulder like you would run away from him if you could, so out of it that he was already pushing deeper into you without even noticing, eyes shut so tightly at the sensation of your walls around him. “Please, please, please, please,” It was like a mantra.

He was far gone.

And kind of so were you.

You whine in pain and raspy moans left Mingi´s soft lips every time he thrust back into you, hitting farther each time, “I´m sorry, baby. I´m sorry. You can take it right? Ah – Just a bit more, I promise. Fuck. I´m almost ah- in. Why do you smell so good? It´s driving me ah – insane.”

It hurt, it did hurt, but you also didn´t seem to mind that he was practically splitting you open when his voice sounded this pretty apologizing for it.

The speed and strength of his hips started picking up to match his urgency, his plush lips were open so captivatingly and his weight was now supported by both arms so he could pistol into you. He didn´t have a specific angle or rhythm to it, his moves were strictly instinctual and carnal, your nails finally finding your way down his back to keep yourself anchored to reality.

“You´re so so so beautiful, fuck. Your lips - can´t stop thinking about them around my ah- cock. Will you show me?”

You loved how broken his voice sounded.

“Yeah, baby. Whatever you want.”

He shuddered once again at your words, “I´m so close.”

“Me too,” You nodded, still doing your very best to not let noises of pleasure escape past your lips – and kind of failing.

“Let me hear you,” Mingi growls, managing to somehow snake his hand in between your bodies to start drawing quick circles on your clit. “Please, I love your voice.”

You wouldn´t be able to hold back even if you wanted to.

His chaotic rhythm had an appeal of its own, every broken moan that left his mouth drew you closer to the edge until you finally reached it. Your vision went black, nails digging into Mingi´s biceps so harshly you would feel bad for it later, every muscle in your body tightening as it all washed over you in a devastating wave, leaving your body in the form of gasps and breathy moans.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Mingi cursed at the way your walls were clenching so tightly around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He wouldn´t slow down and you were still coming down from your high, twitching with the aftershocks as the oversensitivity quickly began to rise, but you decided to ignore it the best you couldand push through it - you could tell Mingi was close anyway with the way his thrusts became even more erratic, and his voice went up with every moan.

You were mesmerized by his glossy unfocused eyes, the frown on his forehead, so frantic to get what he needed by ramming into you. He looked so pretty like this, you wanted to destroy him-

Wow.

Wait.

Now where did that come from?

“Shit, I´m gonna- Fuck, fuck.”

You watched as his whole body froze for a second before violently shaking, his eyes shot so tightly he was probably seeing white as he continued thrusting into you to ride his orgasm to the end as you felt something warm hitting your walls. And his moans, oh his moans – I mean, you were not deaf, you had always been well-aware that Mingi had an attractive voice, but to hear it like this, so raw and relieved, was truly something else.

Mingi let out one last broken cry as he slowly stopped moving, dropping his weight on top of you to catch his breath, chest heaving up and down against your ribcage as his muscles continued twitching here and there. You took advantage of the moment to get yourself together too, stabilizing your breathing and trying to figure out what the hell just happened as you two went down, but you also kind of expected Mingi to say something or try to joke around a bit to lessen the burden of the fact that the two of you just fucked - and when he didn´t, well, you started getting worried.

You were mustering up the courage to say something after the two minutes of silence when the last thing you expected to happen, happened.

Your eyes were blown wide, “Mingi-”

“I can´t stop, I´m sorry-” He whined, his still rock-solid cock now slowly moving inside of you once again, rutting into you like he had absolutely no control over himself.

He was still hard?

Wasn´t this like his third time already?

His whole body was shaking in overstimulation but he wouldn´t stop grinding into you, “I´m sorry.”

“Mingi,” You tried pulling away from him thinking that´s what he was asking for.

“No, don´t. Ah- Need you,” He desperately grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped them around his hips, your chests flushed against each other's as he hid his forehead on your neck to keep fucking deep into you. Literal whines of pain were leaving his lips, it was like he was an animal incapable of rational thoughts, and it was making you feel dizzy.

“Mingi, love. You´re going to hurt yourself.”

“No, feels so ah- Just one more,” He moaned, body shuddering. His whines got you clenching involuntarily around him, suddenly realizing you were kind of close to the edge already. “Please.”

You felt a strong bite on your shoulder disguising a groan, the animalistic act crashed with how smoothly he was sliding in and out of you, but it also showed how deranged he was at the moment. You tightened your thighs around Mingi´s hips and pulled at the hair on his nape, not bothering with trying to cover up your moans anymore.

Mingi took the action as permission and started gradually moving his hips faster, broken little whines getting louder and more frequent each second until he was once again supported by both his arms and pistoling into you.

“I can´t - I can´t,” His voice was so shaky, so broken. “I - Please.”

And then your whole world stopped as you watched the first tear roll down Mingi´s cheek.

You were mesmerized, you wanted to frame it.

“It hurts,” He whimpered, another tear falling, followed by another and then another.

“You´re almost there,” You cooed, deciding to be useful to the poor giant man breaking down on top of you. “Aren´t you? So close.”

Mingi nodded, blinking harshly to clear his vision which resulted in more tears running down his face. You just couldn´t help supporting your weight onto your elbow so you could lean up and hold his jaw, kissing the salty traces across his cheeks until his face was clean. He immediately started shaking, moans growing whinier and choppier, his thrusts started losing their patterns as he plowed into you like his life depended on it, entering a mental state he never knew existed before.

His right hand grabbed your thigh with enough force to bruise it badly as he came for what you imagined was the fourth time in an hour, holding you so close that you could feel his cock hitting impossible places deep inside of you. Mingi was breathing so hard you were kind of worried for his well-being but the noises leaving his lips assured you he was feeling pleasure at least as his nose found its place on your neck once again.

“Feeling better?” You asked once he had calmed down a little.

“Kind of,” He pushed back to look at you with a low chuckle, his eyes looking a tad bit saner already. “But I also kind of need to eat you out.”

You felt his dick twitch inside of you at his own words and how the fuck was that even possible?

A painful whimper left his lips at the slight stimulation, already way past oversensitive, “Please?”

He had the nerve to pout.

#mingi smut #ateez #ateez smut #mingi #song mingi #mingi ateez #mingi fic #mingi x reader #mingi fanfic #mingi scenarios #mingi oneshot

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babyleostuff · 8 months ago

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𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞

𝜗𝜚 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄: fluff, established relationship 𝜗𝜚 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: idol!hoshi x fem!reader 𝜗𝜚 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 565

⦗💌 ⦘ it's no secret that the kwon siblings love to tease each other. but what happens when you come into play?

“stop touching my food!” soonyoung whined, as his sister quickly stole another piece of meat from his plate, giggling quietly. that had to be the third time she did that in the last five minutes, and hoshi was having none of that. “told you you shouldn’t have ordered that salad,” he muttered, looking at the last pieces of his favourite food on the nearly empty plate.

“children, could you stop fighting for once and let us eat in peace?” his father chimed in. “we can’t take you out anywhere.”

you, on the other hand, were too focused on your own food to notice the bickering that was happening right next to you. your day had been long and tiring, and this had to be your first meal of the day, so no one was really surprised that you were kind of in your own world at the moment. besides, at this point you were so used to the kwon siblings teasing each other that you stopped paying much attention to it.

“it’s not my fault he’s being a chil- hey! why does she get to steal your food?” soonyoung’s sister asked indignantly, pointing her finger at you. “why are you not yelling at her, huh?”

you quickly stopped in your tracks with your fork between yours and hoshi's plate with the last piece of his meat on it, and you could feel everyone's eyes on you without having to look up. “huh? what’s going on?” you asked, confused. sharing food in your relationship was normal, to be honest - you never fully ate whatever you ordered, you always shared it between each other, so why did you feel like you just committed a crime?

“maybe because she’s my girlfriend, you moron,” soonyoung snickered, and moved his arm from the back of your chair to lay his hand on your thigh. “eat up, baby. don’t worry about her,” he said, and pecked your temple.

his sister laughed bitterly, and set her fork down, clearly annoyed. “don’t worry about her? remember who’s the oldest here, kwon soonyoung.”

your eyes wandered between the two with amusement, as you munched on the meat you just stole from soonyoung. it must have looked really funny from the perspective of the people sitting at the nearby tables - two adults shouting insults at each other like five-year-olds, but for you (less for their parents) this was pure entertainment.

your boyfriend and his sister were the epitome of a brother- sister dynamic.

“oh my god, why are you so surprised i’m letting my literal girlfriend have my food?” he probably didn’t notice how his grip on you slightly tightened on the word “girlfriend”, but you couldn’t hide the small smile as he did that. it was cute how his body was unconsciously paying attention to you without him even knowing. “stop being a pain in the ass, and keep eating that grass or whatever that is.”

“did you just rhyme ass with gra-?”

“okay, you know what? you,” soonyoung’s mom pointed her fork at her daughter, “stop stealing his food. and you,” now she turned her head to her son, “have nothing left on that plate so leave, or keep your mouth zipped.”

“but mom, it wasn’t me who started this!”

yeah, the kwon family was a funny bunch, and you thanked your luckiest stars you could be a part of this beautiful mess.

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @hoichi02 @aaa-sia @haneulparadx @minvrsev @zozojella @wonootnoot @kimingyuslover @wntrei @honglynights @jihoonsbbygirl@uhdrienne @bloodcanbehot @iamawkwardandshy@icyminghao@heeseungthel0ml@goyangiiwonu@bath1lda@ruurooozz@ny0sang@luuxian

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snoopychris · 23 days ago

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dbf!chris is okay with tying his soul with yours

warnings: period sex. this is your warning.

chris felt frantic while running around his house. his wrist swung back and forth while he consistently checked the time, groaning quietly to himself. he glances at owen, playing happily with some of his cars, smiling slightly as he shoves a bite of cereal in his mouth. the sitter was nearly 20 minutes late. his shift started in 30 minutes and he still had the commute to keep in mind. he was freaking out more than he ever had before. the toddler slowly stands up, tumbling over to his dad. chris smiles as he ruffles the kids hair, pressing a small kiss to his head. “what’s up, bud? hm? you hungry or something?” chris whispers, pulling his phone out of his pocket to solve the problem the only way he knew how.

the phone rang a few times before you answered, your voice sweet and full of cheer as you picked up. “hey chris what’s up? everything ok?” you ask, your smile evident through the screen. chris sighs for a moment before running a hand through his hair, hesitant to ask. “i need a sitter. i had one but she’s late and my shift starts soon and i can’t exactly take owen to a bar. i’ll pay you i promise i just… please.” your eyes widen slightly at the suddenness of the question, but it’s not like you’re doing anything anyway. “i’ll be there in 5.” you reply, climbing off your bed as you begin to walk towards chris’ house. it’s not far by any means, but it’s a tedious walk with all of the sticks and other terrains that separate you. your knocks are gentle on the door, quickly being met with chris’ blue eyes staring into your own. his stubble is longer than it usually is, making him look more his age than usual.

“i owe you. i promise ill actually pay you eventually. i’m sorry i won’t be able to today.” chris words are fast. you can tell he’s in a rush by the way the house is a mess. it looks like he was scattering through all of his things to find what he was looking for. “it’s okay chris really i don’t need any-“ your words are cut off by a brisk kiss from chris as he walks out the door, car keys in hand as he waves goodbye to you and owen. “there’s pizza in the fridge if you’re hungry! i’ll see you later i love you!” he yells, climbing into the prius he’s had for ages. you chuckle as you shut the door gently, looking down at owen on the carpet. “your dad… is a mess sometimes.” you giggle, sitting down next to him on the carpet. “but he’s cool i guess.”

the day passes by faster than you had ever imagined it could’ve. it felt like just a few minutes had past when chris got home, but really it had been hours. he walks into the house to the smell of something more delicious than he could’ve ever made. the trail of the scent drags him to the kitchen where you’re making some sort of pasta and brownies. he smiles widely at the sight of you, watching his son as he eats his buttered noodles. “hey you two… what you up to?” he raises an eyebrow, kissing owen’s head as he lifts him up gently and sits the toddler on his knee. “you look good with that apron on. smells great in here too. y’got enough for me?” he chuckles, bouncing his knee gently. you nod as you smile, biting your lip as you turn to look at him.

“vodka pasta and brownies for dessert.” the plate that gets placed in front of chris looks more delectable than anything he’s eaten in weeks, causing him to quickly grab a fork and place a noodle in his mouth. he borderline moans at the taste, gripping onto your wrist and pulling you in for another kiss. “this is incredible. you’re incredible. thank you.” he whispers, his voice full of nothing but genuine emotion as he speaks. you smile as you steal a bite of his pasta, sitting on the stool besides him. he laughs as you eat his food, his free hand sitting on your knee. “you goin home? or you gonna stay here tonight?” his chin moves to rest on owen’s head, batting his eyes at you like a puppy. you shrug for a moment as you grab the toddler from his lap, setting him on your hip.

“guess i’ll see. he’s fallin asleep on your lap… gonna put him to bed.” you whisper, running your fingers through the brown head of hair as a way to rock him to sleep. “i’ll be right back. save me some pasta.” chris smiles at your words as you walk away, holding his arms out for you when you finally come back. you settle in his lap and in his arms, kissing his cheek and neck gently. “you don’t have to pay me chris. i mean it. i’m okay.” you giggle, taking a bite from the plate once more. chris shrugs as he gently twists your hair between his fingers as if it’s the worlds most expensive silk. he wants to hold you just like this at every given moment of the day. everyday.

“you’re really pretty. would make a really good mama. when i left the house was a mess. all i had was pizza. came back and suddenly i can see my floor and there’s a god damn pasta on the stove. and you made it from scratch ‘cause i didn’t have any spaghetti noodles, only rigatoni.” your mouth drops slightly open at his words, gasping when he pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. your arms wrap around his neck as he continues to work his way down your neck with his lips.

“lemme… lemme just put it in while we eat. won’t even move. please baby please.” he whines, nipping down on your neck. you moan quietly but shake your head regardless, pushing chris away gently. “you can’t. i’m on my period it’s gonna be gross and messy and it’s a soul tie.” chris groans at your words, toying with the hem of your sweatpants, which you had taken from his closet, biting his lip as he bats his eyes.

“oh i don’t give a fuck. gods giving you a natural lubricant and you’re stopping me from using it?” you laugh in shock at his words, standing up from his lap as you make your way to his bedroom. “you’re a freak.” you whisper, grabbing a towel from the bathroom and tossing it onto the bed. “you literally swallowed my cum last night and the night before that but blood is what’s getting in your way?” you widen your eyes at his words, jumping onto the bed as you reach out to him. “you’re such a romantic you know that?” chris laughs at your words, caging you on his mattress with his arms. he begins to kiss down your neck again, hand slipping between your thighs as he taps on your clit gently. it’s a little too slow for your liking. “chris.” you whine, pushing your sweats out of the way to give him more access. he groans at the sight, freeing himself from his own clothes and rubbing himself against your clothed heat.

“you’re gonna be so good for me right baby? g’nna let me stuff you full of my babies? gonna let me make you a mama right?” he grunts, pushing your panties to the side and slipping in carefully as you squirm on the bed gently. your gummy walls engulf him instantly, a layer of warmth added with your current state. his head buries into your neck as he begins sliding in and out, the motion coming with lots more ease than usual. “fuck you feel amazing.” chris licks his lips as he begins speeding up his movements, his ego being boosted by your inability to speak and hardly make any noise. your eyes squeeze shut as you grip onto his hair, drool slipping from the side of your mouth. you can’t imagine the mess that you’re making as chris moves, the hormones coursing through you making the experience far more enjoyable. the self control that chris was trying his best to keep goes out the window when he thrusts against a specific spot, the moan leaving your mouth making a switch flip in chris’ head.

his movements speed up more than you thought was possible, one of your legs being hoisted up to his shoulder for him to continuously rub against the spot that had made you so loud just moments ago. his free hand comes down to rub circles on your clit, the mess between your legs only spreading to his hands. “fuck. fuck you feel so fucking good. gonna need to do this more often. oh look at you doll, so fucked out on my cock. cmon baby… can feel you clenching around me.” chris speaks, his speed on your clit increasing. you nod rapidly as you let the wave of pleasure rush over you, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “attagirl.” chris groans as he releases inside of you, a shaky moan leaving the depths of his throat. your pants are in tandem as you ride out your orgasms, chris being reluctant to pull out.

he does eventually, pushing your panties back over your pussy. he chuckles slightly as he stands up, walking to the bathroom to wash his hands before turning towards you. “you want me to run you a bath?” he whispers, looking towards the bathtub as he steps over to his bed, swiftly picking you up and walking into the bathroom once more. “it’s up to you doll. i’d gladly shower with you again and again till you felt clean enough.” you smile at his words, head gesturing towards the bath. “only if you join me.” you whisper, climbing into the plastic tub as chris turns the water on. he slips in with you, hands wrapping around your frame gently. he kisses the top of your head, his thumbs moving to rub your thighs gently. “you make me feel complete y’know.” he whispers, the blush on his face becoming more apparent as you squeeze onto his bicep gently, letting out a small giggle. “yeah that’s the soul tie talking.”

a/n: i had no ideas and thought all my smut sounded the same and somehow THIS is where we ended up. my bad guys.

tags(reply/message to be added!): @oopsiedaisydeer @marrykisskilled @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @freshhhloveee @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @cykss @throatgoat4u @blahbel668 @ivyyyyyysposts @h0e4fictionalme-n @riasturns @sofieeeeex @littlebookworm803 @allylovescody @ribread03 @cheesecakedolll @chrislova @ikyoudreamofme @jetaimevous @muwapsturniolo @sturnsrecord @13hoax @whore4mattsturniolo @ribbonlovergirl @tezzzzzzzzzzz @chrattho1 @submattenthusiast @mattscoquette @sosasturns

DIVIDERS BY @bernardsbendystraws !

#⋆˙⟡snoopychris #⋆˙⟡chris!#⋆˙⟡snoopychris writes #⋆˙⟡dbf!chris #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo series #christopher sturniolo #christopher sturniolo fluff #christopher sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #christopher sturniolo fanfic #christopher sturniolo x reader

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sugarphoric · 2 months ago

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when husband!nanami has a crush on his wife! :)

slight nsfw, gn!reader for the most part except for like. wife/gf. actually is this even gn anymore guys im so sorry idk im slow

nanami kento whos been happily married to you for years now, and has never felt a day where he didnt feel this love for you. but recently - and he cant tell you when it started - hes started getting... butterflies?

it started off small- when he worked and had a thought of you, he would be smiling and giggling almost maniacally without him realizing, leaving coworkers thinking hes finally lost it.

then, it started to get bigger.

hed be driving home and while checking his blind spot, that small shift of his head allowed him to get just the tiniest whiff of your perfume- fuck, if there was a car he definitely wouldve crashed. nostrils fully flared, his breathing is completely erratic to see if he can get another hit, pedal almost to the floor, more impatient than ever to get home.

he cant tell if hed rather be at home or at work, both a personal paradise and a jail cell- you occupy his every thought that small butterflies turn into heart throbbing chest pains (he even visits the doctor to see if he had survived a week long heart attack from how much it ached in his chest (he didnt have any complications, only a very very high heart rate? ... weird)). he cant do anythjng about it so he starts hitting the gym as much as he can to attribute this throbbing with hard-work and exercise (hes there so often people have started to think hes a manager)

now its gotten so bad that he finds himself not being able to look you in the eye, so conscious that hes making EYE-CONTACT with his CRUSH (wife), or else hes going to turn into a mess (as if he wasnt already) - blushing, stuttering, pants going tiighttt, you name it.

hes feining so hard that hes started courting you again (like a fucking bird), dressing himself up as best as he could, seriously making him look like the best suitor on the market possible (even if he wasnt youd still pick him). normally a very financially responsible man, its uncharacteristic of him to spend money left and right arguably buying the most expensively useless things imaginable that he knew you would like (but it reminded him of you so how could it be useless? (._.))

you initially thought he was mad at you with the way he started to ignore you, refusing to touch you or make eye contact, refusing to hold a conversation longer than five minutes (it was because he would actually cum his pants (from talking!!) if he held it out any longer), hes never felt more like a schoolboy till now. oh and you (unknowingly) were not helping his case; sweet, honey dripping whispers of "im sorry"s and "i love you"s, michelin star curated bento boxes with his favorite foods paired with such sugar infused notes of encouragement and love to get him through the day.

you, too, were now dressing to the T's. you could easily steal the title of "world's most unforgiving fashion critic" with how precise you were with every detail of your outfits, your hair, anything that would catch his eye. days and nights of dolling up to try and even seduce your way to his "forgiveness"- and it didnt even work in the end, if anything, it made him retreat even further :(

(he almost slept in the guest bedroom when this started to happen- hell he was this close to renting a hotel room for the night. if he couldnt even handle your horribly messy morning face, how could he ever handle you looking like a damn angel sent from god himself)

then it was a whole plethora of thinking he felt guilty for something like breaking your eyeshadow palettes or shattering a plate, or was trying to keep a massive secret from you. and fuck if you thought hed wanted a divorce but didnt know how to tell you! (which was far from the truth apparently)

you finally understand he doesnt want a divorce, but hes... weird.

it was, really, nothing short of endearing, frustrating, and pathetic. hes never acted this way, even on your wedding day nor the day he proposed nor the day he even got to finally have you as his proud girlfriend. even way before when he spent years pining and courting (like a bird) for you to be his girlfriend!! hes always had this air of "cool and confident", almost egotistical if he wasnt so humble, so this... yea this was different.

it finally pushed you to the edge, so what better to do than implement the "forced proximity!" trope while he was in the shower! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა (it was created for a reason)

if it wasnt obvious before about his big fat crush on you, it was obvious now as the immediate sight of your naked body in the shower, with him, together- oh hes already hard and dripping so much pre- no, he actually just came. his face incredibly red, eyes almost vibrating due to not knowing where to look, mind buzzing from feelings of embarrassment, ecstasy, shame, love, everything all together at once.

and what a sight it is, that your husband nanami kento is finally professing his love for you, his deep crush on his wife, naked (and still hard) in the shower. you can only giggle at his foolishness before pulling him into an attempted kiss, one filled with laughter and teeth equally spilled from the two of you underneath the falling water :)

its far from the oh-so-dreamy scene seen in The Notebook, but lets be honest, this version of you and your husband is way better than what Hollywood could ever win awards for.

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meeraonpole · 2 months ago

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Twitch Steams : LN4 X Y/N

Summary: Lando goes live on Twitch, but his stream takes a cute turn when you bring him food. Chat instantly falls in love with your presence, demanding you stay. After giving up his chair for you, the two of you share adorable moments, jokes, and laughter while chat spams heart emojis. By the end of the stream, it’s clear—Lando might be the streamer, but you’re the real star.

Lando had just booted up his Twitch stream, a cheeky grin on his face as he greeted the thousands of viewers flooding into chat. His headset sat slightly askew on his messy curls, and his hoodie was oversized as always.

"Hello, hello! What's up, chat?" he said, adjusting his mic. "We’re back at it today. Gonna play some tarkov, maybe some Valorant later. Who knows?"

The chat was already going wild, messages flying past at an unreadable speed:

"Lando, why are you always late?"

"McLaren merch WHEN?"

"Why does your hair always look like you just fought a tornado?"

Lando chuckled as he scrolled through the messages. "Alright, alright, calm down. I was like—only five minutes late today, which, in my world, is early, okay?" He clicked into his racing setup and got ready for a few laps, but before he could even get started, there was a soft knock at his door.

"Uh-oh, who's that?" he mused aloud, glancing toward the door. "Hold on, chat, someone’s about to interrupt our very serious business."

A moment later, the door creaked open, and in walked you, holding a plate of food in one hand and a drink in the other. Lando’s face immediately lit up.

"Oooooh, look at that, chat! Delivery service has arrived!" he said dramatically, leaning back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. "You’ve been sitting here for hours, Lando. You need to eat."

"What did I do to deserve you?" he asked, taking the plate from you. "Wait, did you make this, or did you just steal it from the kitchen?"

You scoffed, placing the drink down next to him. "Rude. I made it, obviously."

"Chat, do we trust this?" Lando asked, pretending to inspect the food suspiciously. Cue the flood of messages.

"Trust her, Lando."

"Y/N best girlfriend confirmed."

"Lando, if you don’t eat that, we riot."

You laughed as you backed toward the door. "Alright, I’m leaving you and your weird little fan club alone. Enjoy your food, superstar."

Lando pouted dramatically. "You’re not gonna stay? Chat, tell her to stay!"

Chat immediately spammed:

"STAYYY."

"Y/N COME BACK."

"Lando is 100x cuter when you're around."

You shook your head. "No, you guys have fun. I’m not stealing your spotlight."

And with that, you disappeared out of frame, leaving Lando to sigh dramatically before stuffing a forkful of food into his mouth. "Well, chat, there goes the love of my life, abandoning me in my time of need."

But the chat wasn’t letting it go.

"CALL HER BACK."

"We need Y/N content!"

Lando groaned playfully. "Alright, alright, fine! You guys are so needy. Let me—wait, I have an idea."

He reached for his phone and called you, putting it on speaker. After a few rings, you picked up.

"What now?" you asked teasingly.

"Chat is basically threatening to riot if you don’t come back," Lando said, grinning. "So, congratulations, you’re famous."

You sighed dramatically, but he could hear the smile in your voice. "Fine. But only for a little bit."

Seconds later, you reappeared in the room, and Lando immediately got up from his chair. "Here, take my seat."

You frowned. "But where are you gonna sit?"

"Don’t worry about it," he said, walking off camera. Moments later, he dragged in another chair from across the room and plopped down next to you. The chat exploded.

"HE GAVE UP HIS CHAIR FOR HER."

"THE BARE MINIMUM BUT WE LOVE HIM FOR IT."

"Boyfriend of the year, confirmed."

Lando grinned as he read the messages. "See, chat, I am a gentleman. Give me some credit!"

You chuckled, leaning back in the chair as Lando scrolled through chat. "You guys are too much."

"They love you," Lando said, nudging you playfully. "More than they love me, actually. Should I be concerned?"

"Very," you teased.

The two of you continued streaming, answering silly questions and joking around. At one point, Lando leaned his head on your shoulder dramatically. "Chat, I’m exhausted. Y/N, take over."

You laughed, adjusting the headset. "Alright, guys, what’s up? Welcome to my stream now. First order of business: roasting Lando."

Chat loved it, spamming:

"FINALLY, THE TAKEOVER."

"Roast him, Y/N. He deserves it."

Lando gasped, sitting up. "Okay, no, this was a terrible idea. I take it back."

You grinned, poking his cheek. "Too late, superstar."

The chat was going wild, and Lando couldn’t stop smiling at you. He reached over and intertwined his fingers with yours under the table, unseen by the camera but enough for you to squeeze his hand lightly.

Eventually, Lando stretched and yawned. "Alright, chat, I think we’re gonna call it a night. Y/N has stolen my stream, my chair, and my dignity, so I think it’s time to go."

You smirked. "Pretty sure you lost your dignity a long time ago."

Chat spammed "LMAO" as Lando put a hand over his heart in mock offense. "Wow. Chat, did you see that? My own girlfriend betraying me on live stream."

You grinned, leaning into him just a little. "They saw nothing."

The chat exploded again, filled with heart emojis and messages like "GET MARRIED ALREADY" and "CUTEST COUPLE ON TWITCH."

Lando glanced at the screen, then at you, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "Alright, chat, love you guys, but I think I’m gonna go spend some time with this one now."

"Finally," you said, standing up. "Took you long enough."

He rolled his eyes but reached for your hand as he ended the stream, the final words from chat being:

"PROTECT THEM AT ALL COSTS."

"Lando, you better treat her like a queen."

"This was the best stream ever."

And as Lando shut his PC down, he looked over at you, grinning. "See, told you they love you more than me."

You shrugged. "Well, can you blame them?"

With a laugh, he pulled you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Nope. Not even a little."

Tbh I don't really like this one but its ok don't really have anything else to say but yea enjoy the rest of your dayyyy

oh lemme know if there are any errors

#lando x reader #lando norris #lando norris x y/n #ln4 #fluff #f1 fic #lando norris imagine #mclaren

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lyrefromthesea · 10 months ago

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Male pillars x reader - bringing them their favourite food.

author's note: due to a comment I've received on an earlier post, i'll not write for Muichiro anymore. i've stated before that i do not write sexual content for minors, nor do i engage in writing romantic relationships including them. everything i've written for him was seen as a platonic relationship between him and the reader. since my statement fell in deaf ears, i've decided to leave him out completely. i do not feel comfortable mentioning him in my posts anymore, my deepest apologies.

request: how would the pillars react to receiving their favourite food from you?

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

Tengen:

you were standing in the kitchen, whistling to yourself. today had been good so you decided to make your husband a little treat.

the market had been rather full, but you walked through the crowd and bought the ingredients you needed for his favourite dish.

seaweed. rice. and already prepared fugu. it had taken quite some time to find it, but you did it nonetheless.

standing in the kitchen, you had already made a plate of fugu sushi. at least that's what you thought. when you turned around to place another piece on the plate, it looked like there was one missing. have you forgotten one?

placing your finished piece on the plate, you turned around to make more. finally, you would be finished-

and another one was gone.

"Tengen! stop stealing the fugu sushi!" you scolded, not surprised when you heard quiet footsteps behind you. he wasn't a shinobi for nothing.

"sorry, darling. you looked so flamboyant, i didn't want to interrupt you!" he answered, wrapping muscular arms around you. a laugh escaped you, feeling him place his chin on the top of your hair.

"have i ever told you that you're the best?" he teased, finally freeing you from his embrace.

"i already know, that's why we're married."

Obanai:

you placed a bowl of tororo konbu right in front of him, telling him that you tried your best. naturally, he thanked you, but he didn't dive in like you would've expected him to do.

"what's wrong?" you asked, wondering if you had messed up the dish. it was your first time making it, perhaps you had missed a step or overcooked something.

"i.. could you maybe..?" Obanai asked, he appeared much more timid than usual. you tried understanding what was wrong.

seeing his finger brush against his mask, you understood, he still felt insecure about his face. you hadn't been in a relationship for long, he probably needed time to get used to this. "of course."

"just know that i would never judge you for what i see." you added, placing a kiss on his temple. truthfully, you were saddened about his request, but you wanted to give him the time he needed.

Obanai, on the other hand, was touched by your words. his meal long forgotten, he stood up, taking your hands in his.

"we should marry."

you looked at him, first shocked, and then you started laughing. perhaps he overreacted just a bit, but who could blame him?

Rengoku:

sweet potatoes. so many sweet potatoes.

when you've told Rengoku you could cook his favourite dish in the near future, he had been incredibely happy about it.

he came back with a load of sweet potatoes the next day, his whole head nearly dissapearing behind the amounts of the root vegetable he had bought.

now, another day later, you put miso soup and sweet potatoes for two on the table, smiling at your enthusiastic husband. he had offered to help you the whole time, which eventually led you to ban him from the kitchen.

he nearly devoured the dish as soon as you were sat on the opposite side of the table. it made you chuckle, seeing him swallow the huge bite he took down.

"umai!"

"you've outdone yourself, i'm glad i brought some sweet potatoes home!" he brightly smiled, earning another laugh from you. some sweet potatoes?

"Kyojuro, you brought a ton of them home." you countered, pointing at the rest of the potatoes you've put on the counter for now. "that will probably be enough for a month worth of miso soup with sweet potatoes!"

"sounds good, don't you think?"

Sanemi:

Sanemi plopped down on the engawa, letting out a heavy sigh. training had been rather hard, but he needed to stay fit. nevertheless, his muscles ached and he could really take a break.

he debated over going inside, he trained enough. a shower wouldn't hurt, he was sweating, dampened hair was sticking to his forehead. the man sighed, standing up to finally move inside.

however, when he saw you standing right behind him, he froze. you were looking up at him with wide eyes, as if you tried surpising him. he looked down at your hands - you were holding something - only now realizing that he had been right. you did try to surpise him.

he looked at the plate in your hands, it was filled with ohagi. his favourite food. his eyes moved back to your face, watching you tilt your head.

"it's for you." you told him, tilting your head to the side. "let's go inside, you've trained enough." you smiled, nodding towards the door. he nodded, following you into the kitchen. you placed the ohagi down on the counter, watching him slowly take one.

"you didn't have to." he said, already having bitten into the one in his hand. you chuckled at his words, he had nearly eaten the ohagi with one bite, yet he claimed he didn't need any.

"i needed a reason to get you away from training." you admitted, a sly smile on your face. but both of you knew he would've listened to you no matter what.

"i would've stopped anyways." he answered, placing the ohagi he had picked up to the side. he came closer, watching your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"what? why?" you asked, not questioning why he came closer. in a matter of seconds, you were in his arms, your eyes squeezing shut in disbelief.

"i wanted to shower." he smirked, basically squishing his sweaty body against yours. you let out a whine, trying to free yourself from his hug, but only managing to do so when he let go.

"great, now i can shower too!" you scolded, seeing him laugh to himself. he walked towards the bathroom, seemingly wanting to wash himself.

"let's eat the ohagi after you're finished."

Giyuu:

Giyuu didn't know what he had expected when he came home today, but he certainly didn't think it would be the smell of freshly cooked food.

no, scrap that. he was often greeted by the nice smell of a promising meal. this was different. it wasn't just any meal.

"welcome home, Giyuu." you greeted, watching him step into the kitchen. you looked content, already knowing that you would make him happy.

"are you hungry? i prepared something for you." you smiled, seeing him nod slowly. when you moved away from the table, his gaze wandered towards the bowls full of food.

your gaze was fixed on him, wanting to catch his reaction. he wasn't the type to voice his happiness, but you certainly caught the way he looked at the salmon daikon you made.

the lightest twitch of his eyebrows and the way his eyes narrowed showed his interest. he stared at the food for a moment, the quiet grumble of his stomach revealing how hungry he truly was.

but he didn't immediately start eating. instead he looked back at you, his gaze softening.

"i've got you this" he muttered, extending his hand towards you. you stared in awe, a small bag of your favourite sweets being placed in your hands.

"let's eat them for dessert, Giyuu."

Gyomei:

when you brought home the ingredients for takikomi gohan. you have wanted to surprise Gyomei with his favourite dish.

you stood in the kitchen, cutting the vegetables into small pieces, as you hummed to yourself. Gyomei should've been home in an hour, at least that's what you've thought.

"i'm home." you heard his deep voice call from the hallway. your head snapped up, looking at the ingredients and then towards the door. you wouldn't have enough time to put everything away. before you even had the chance to react, he already came through the door.

"..are those?" he stopped in the doorway, his head turning towards you. you knew he was blind, but his ability to detect your exact location surpised you ever so often.

the smell of his favourite food hung in the air, almost as if the world had wanted to ruin your surprise.

"i wanted to surprise you." you admitted, lowering your head. you knew he wouldn't be disappointed, but you've planned this since last week. he must've sensed your sadness, walking towards you and putting his hand over yours.

"i can help you, let's cook together." he offered, carefully taking the knife out of your hand. truthfully, you nearly objected, not wanting him to hurt himself, however, you nearly chuckled thinking of the large weapon he was wielding.

"let's call it a cooking date then." you smiled, opening the drawer to get a second knife.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny #kny x reader #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #tengen uzui #tengen x reader #obanai iguro #obanai x reader #rengoku kyojuro #rengoku x reader #sanemi shinazugawa #sanemi x reader #giyuu tomioka #giyuu x reader #gyomei himejima #gyomei x reader

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pikavani · 3 months ago

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How Outono was found

The marketplace was as lively as ever, packed with vendors shouting prices and people bustling from stall to stall. Among the crowd was Masha, a young maid making her usual rounds to gather supplies and ingredients for the castle.

And there she was again. Masha (22 years old) had noticed the little girl several times before, darting through the streets, always keeping her distance from strangers. She didn’t beg, didn’t steal—just played with the stray cats and dogs like she was one of them. She was always alone, sitting in the dirt and keeping to herself.

It wasn’t uncommon to see orphans wandering the streets, especially after the war. But this girl stood out. Bright blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin—she didn’t look like she belonged there. People couldn’t help but notice her, and that made Masha uneasy.

Masha had watched her from a distance, wondering about her story. Where was she from? How old was she? Seven? Eight, maybe? But what really bothered Masha was how much attention the girl could draw just by existing. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of what might happen if the wrong person noticed her.

Masha had heard the whispers in dark alleys. Men who offered food and shelter but delivered nightmares instead—slavery, prostitution, factories. The girl was practically a walking target.

No, Masha thought, she couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. She had to act. It was reckless, impulsive, but she didn’t care. “There you are!” Masha called out, pushing through the crowd toward the girl. Her voice was sharp enough to make heads turn. She grabbed the child’s arm—not hard, but firmly enough to keep her from slipping away.

The girl froze, staring up at Masha with wide, startled eyes. She didn’t fight or run, just stood there, too shocked to react.

“Come on,” Masha said, her voice softer now as she led the girl through the busy streets. She kept her head down, ignoring the curious glances from the crowd. To them, she was just a frustrated aunt dragging a mischievous child home.

As they made their way to the castle, Masha’s thoughts raced. What was she doing? She wasn’t anyone important, just a maid trying to keep her head above water. She had enough on her plate without adding a lost child to her problems. This could blow up in her face. But as she felt the girl’s small, cold hand in hers, she pushed the doubts aside. It was too late to turn back now.

When they arrived, Masha wasted no time. She took the girl’s dirty, torn dress and helped her into a warm bath. The child didn’t resist, but her wary eyes followed Masha’s every move. As the grime melted away, Masha got a better look at her.

Her skin was smooth, untouched by scars or bruises. No signs of the abuse you’d expect from a child on the streets. But she was so thin—her ribs showed, and her small frame seemed almost fragile. Malnourished, but not beyond help.

And her dress… Masha frowned as she picked it up. The fabric was fine, high-quality, definitely not something a street orphan would wear. Someone had cared for this child once. So why was she out here alone?

As Masha gently scrubbed the girl’s hair, she tried to ask questions. “What’s your name? Where are you from? Do you have family?”

At first, the girl didn’t say a word. She shrank into the water, clearly overwhelmed. But as the bath’s warmth set in, she began to relax. When Masha asked again, the girl shook her head faintly, her expression confused.

“Nothing?” Masha pressed. “You don’t remember anything?”

Another small shake. Masha sighed, brushing back her frustration. “Alright, it doesn’t matter right now.”

As she rinsed the soap from the girl’s hair, Masha noticed the way her small hands played with the bubbles. The child giggled softly, and for the first time, Masha saw her smile. It was a tiny thing, fleeting, but it lit up her face.

After the bath, Masha dressed her in one of her old tunics, the smallest size she could find. Still, it hung awkwardly on the girl’s petite frame, the sleeves drooping well past her hands. Masha couldn’t help but chuckle. “Well, don’t you look like a little bird in borrowed feathers.”

The girl didn’t seem to mind. She hid her shy smile behind her blond hair, her cheeks tinged pink.

Later, Masha handed her some bread and cheese she’d bought at the market. The girl devoured it eagerly, taking bites so big Masha had to laugh. “Slow down,” she said, patting her head. “There’s plenty more.”

As the girl ate, Masha felt some of her worries melt away. There was something about her—innocent, endearing. She rested a hand on the child’s head, thinking aloud. “You know, you’ve got the most beautiful eyes. Since you don’t remember your name, how about I call you Blue? Sound good?”

The girl paused, then gave a small nod.

And just like that, the little girl became part of Masha’s life.

She was still shy, always hiding behind Masha when strangers came near. But in the quiet moments, she was a joy—giggling to herself, chasing sunlight, and even whispering to the stray animals that seemed to follow her everywhere.

As time passed, "Blue" found her voice. She made up silly songs, told little stories, and even helped Masha with her chores. The work of a maid was tough, but with Blue around, it didn’t feel so hard. Her tiny hands and sweet voice brought a light to Masha’s world that she hadn’t realized she needed.

#oc #oc artwork #outono #outono the jester #oc backstory #first Background story of young Outono and her Caretaker Masha #original character #original art #artist on tumblr

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wileys-russo · 10 months ago

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forget me not II l.williamson x reader

"only me lee!" you called out, slipping out of your coat and hanging it by the door, tugging your beanie off and running a hand through your hair. you sighed happily at the much warmer temperature in the house compared to the brutal winter wind bellowing outside.

but there was nothing that could wipe the grin off of your face, having just wrapped up your final day of your degree and handing in your final thesis, you were on top of the world.

and at that moment, leah had been determined to keep you there.

"leah?" you called out for your girlfriend, eyebrows furrowing in concern when there was nothing in return, though you could smell the orange blossom throughout the house where she'd had the diffuser on, and her car had been parked right next to yours when you pulled in.

"babe?" you yelled a little louder, unwinding your scarf and slipping off your sneakers leaving them by the door, frown deepening as you wandered further and further into your home with still no sign of the blonde to be seen.

but you melted as you rounded the corner and laid eyes upon a perfectly set dining room table, takeaway from your most treasured italian restaurant plated up beautifully with a glass of champagne poured to accompany it, an expensive looking bottle sat in a bucket of ice in the middle of the table.

you could see the food was still steaming which must have meant that-

"congratulations!" you jumped almost a foot in the air at the booming voice behind you, jolting around for a split second before leah engulfed you in a bear hug, lifting you off your feet and cheering.

"leah!" you laughed, clutching onto her shoulders as the defender spun you around and carefully placed you back down on the ground. "i am so so unbelievably proud of you." her hands fell either side of your face, palms rough and callous but her touch warm and comforting as you melted into it.

"hold that thought." leahs finger smooshed against your lips for a second as she let go and stepped away, disappearing for a moment but returning with a huge bouquet of flowers in her arms.

"oh leah, you didn't need to do all this! i'd have been happy with a takeaway and a cheap bottle of wine." you exhaled with a soft smile, leah rolling her eyes affectionately and placing your flowers down on the table.

"only the best for the best. we can get wine drunk and have a greasy chinese any day of the week my girl, but its not every day that you graduate university with top marks, honors and three job offers!" your girlfriend reminded, shaking you proudly as you threw your head back with another laugh.

"i love you." you sighed, shaking your head and wrapping your arms around her neck, her own hands settling on your hips and drawing your body closer into hers, the scent of her perfume intoxicating as you drowned in it.

"i love you, i love our life, i love our home. and i love that i don't need to fight a big dusty stack of text books for your attention anymore!" the blonde teased as you grinned, leaning in to press a few short but sweet kisses against her lips.

"i knew that was coming." you sighed with a shake of your head, leah pulling a face and nodding, stealing another kiss and moving to pull your chair out for you, gesturing for you to sit down.

"i hate when you pull my chair out for me." you reminded as leah shrugged, pushing it in and stealing another kiss. "at restaurants, you didn't say anything about at home." leah winked taking her own seat as you rolled your eyes fondly.

"to you my love!" leah raised her glass with a beaming smile across the table, a fond grin on your own as a gentle clink sounded around the kitchen.

in that moment you felt loved and supported, as leah showered you with praise and hung off your every word as she asked you question after question about your finally completed thesis and how you were feeling.

if only you'd known it wouldn't last.

leah and you met through your cousin alessia.

the pair of you both the only girls in your immediate family and only a few months apart in age you'd grown up thick as thieves, adopting one another as the sisters you weren't given, both instead having older brothers.

you only grew closer as the years flew by, you making your way across the world to visit her when she was in college in america and the two of you vacationing together time and time again in italy with your families.

when alessia moved to manchester for football and you stayed in central london you saw less of one another, but still you did your best to make it to as many of her matches as you could, never gifted with much of a sporting ability which all three of your cousins had teased you for growing up.

you'd seen leah around in passing at the international games but never really had much to do with many of your cousins teammates bar the ones you saw more often that she played with at united or on the youth teams.

you had first been properly introduced to leah on a night out, arsenal playing united meant several of the england girls were going for dinner and given you'd gone to the game and hadn't seen alessia in well over a month she'd invited you to join them.

you hadn't interacted with leah all that much that night, spending most of your time glued to your cousins side making the most of your time with her, your exams now done for the semester you were making plans with her to go to ibiza after the season wrapped up.

but unknown to you, you'd stuck with leah a little more than she had with you.

you hadn't had anything else to do with her until a couple of weeks later, you were in between lectures and desperate for a coffee which actually tasted like coffee and not something from a gas station pod machine.

so you'd ducked out to a little cafe just down the road from the university, it was a fan favourite amongst studnets and often quite busy so you weren't surprised to see all the tables occupied and people stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting their takeaways.

you'd ordered your usual and a ham and cheese croissant to snack on along the way back, moving away from the counter to wait for your order, smiling apologetically at a blonde you'd accidentally backed up into.

you assumed that would be it, off in your own world as you started to daydream, which is why you missed the girl speak to you, only zoning in once she tapped you on the shoulder and you turned toward her with a curious frown.

"sorry, what?" you blinked realizing she'd said something and you'd missed it. "i said you look really familiar, have we met before?" the stranger asked and you let out a small puff of air in amusement. "is that supposed to be a pick up line?" you questioned with a raised eyebrow as the blondes eyes widened.

"no! honestly. i would never try to pick you up-" she started but with a small scoff of offence from you her eyes widened further. "no! not that i wouldn't try to pick you up at all you're not ugly, but i wouldn't do it like that?" she cringed at herself as you hummed, turning back toward the counter and crossing your arms over your chest.

"hey no please, i'm so sorry this is all coming out wrong." the girl huffed with a shake of her head as again you only hummed and she seemed to give it up as there was a few beats of silence.

"oh! i know. you're...someones cousin." the girl seemed to light up, seemingly quite happy with herself as you threw her a side eye. "aren't we all technically someones cousin?" you questioned still facing the counter as the girl rolled her eyes.

"well yes but i swear i've seen you somewhere before." the blonde huffed in frustration and you sagged a little in relief as your name was called.

"let me guess. in your dreams?" you chuckled, stepping forward to grab your coffee and the small paper bag, good mood returning at the overwhelming scent of the croissant which was toasted, warm and calling your name.

"look. you're not unattractive but the whole 'oh i know you!' thing? it doesn't work. really, do yourself a favor and get a new tactic!" you shook your head with a slight smile, leaving the blonde gobsmacked as you moved past her and shuffled your way out of the cafe.

only if you'd just waited another thirty seconds, you'd have heard her own coffee's called out, all under the name leah.

again a couple of months passed and the coffee shop interaction disappeared from your mind, alessia laughing about it with you a week later teasing that even if you didn't date boys you couldn't avoid shitty pick up lines.

you didn't run into leah again until the very first friendly leading up to englands home euros run where they beat belgium 3-0. you'd been sat with everyone in the family and friends section, wedged between gio and your own older brother leo. the rhyming names in which you and alessia had teased them for for years.

naturally after the game and the crowd had cleared everyone was mingling with their families, and you'd been so busy laughing at alessia's brothers taking the piss out of her for having kept count of how many times she tripped over in the game you missed a familiar blonde spot you across the room.

however you were made aware of her presence around a half an hour later as your family had started to break off into groups, all headed to a local restaurant for a nice meal to celebrate alessia and everyone being together again.

"want a lift?" alessia offered twirling her keys around on her finger as she finished saying goodbye to a few of the girls. "yes but i'd also like to arrive to dinner alive." you sighed as the girl scoffed and hit you on the shoulder.

"well i'm your last option so you can walk if you'd prefer piccoli ravioli!" your cousin cooed teasingly, pinching your cheek as your eyes narrowed and you shoved her taller form away.

"alessia. you promised you'd stop calling me that." "i did, but i've changed my mind now. it brings nonna so much joy...i'd like to also feel that joy." "would you also like to feel my fist against your cheek?" "aw you're so cute, piccoli ravioli!"

"i hate you." you sighed in defeat unable to muster the energy for a proper comeback as your cousin only grinned and waved goodbye to mary over your shoulder.

exchanging goodbyes with ella and promising you'd come visit manchester soon you turned to follow after your cousin and her long legs which were already halfway across the room when there was a tap on your shoulder.

"you look really familiar. have we met before?"

"you." you realized quickly, eyes widening at the smug grin on the familiar blondes face who stood before you, clad in the same england tracksuit your cousin was wearing which could only mean one thing.

"you mean you're-" "yes i am, and you are someones cousin. alessia's!" the girl grinned victoriously as you winced a little at your previous interaction.

"told you it wasn't a pick up strategy." the blonde beamed even brighter, rocking back and forth on her heels and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"well you could have just asked!" you rolled your eyes at her smugness. "i did and you bit my head off!" the blonde huffed in defense. "i mean directly. like 'oh i think you might be related to someone i play football with'." you mocked in an attempt at her accent.

"i don't talk like that!" "thats what you took away from that?"

"well i didn't want to freak you out." the girl rolled her eyes as you snickered. "and how well did that go? i've been calling you coffee shop creeper when i tell that story, and let me tell you it gets some laughs!" your voice dripped with sarcasm but that just seemed to cause her lips to curl up into a more prominent smile.

"well then you're welcome for the ice breaker, maybe now you'll have some more success reading cues of when someone is trying to chat you up or just asking a curious question. not everyone wants to date you right off the bat, sorry for the let down." the blonde pouted though the sarcasm was obvious in her own tone.

"leah." your own response was cut short as the girl held out her hand, grin still plastered on her face and damp hair pushed to one side of your head as you sized her up for a second before sighing and exchanging your own name.

the interaction was paused as alessia yelled out for you, gesturing from the door and tapping her wrist making you scoff given she was one to talk forever the last to show up at any family event and notoriously known her lateness.

"well leah, i'm glad we cleared this up. good game!" you smiled sincerely for the first time and leah felt her stomach flip as you turned to head over to your cousin.

"wait! can i get your number?" you glanced back in surprise to the blonde who shrugged at your raised eyebrow. "only following your advice and asking directly!" leah teased with a smirk that you couldn't lie and say wasn't a little endearing.

"fine, but just so you know i will be saving your contact as coffee shop creeper."

years down the track and the coffee shop creeper charm had won you over, you were very happily in a long term relationship and a few months ago had taken the next step of moving in together.

with alessia now living in london too it meant the pair of you were near inseparable much to both leahs delight and frustration that your cousin loved to invite herself over, often interrupting date night.

you'd been by leahs side throughout her injury, sticking by her through the highs and lows, the lashing out, the icing out, the apologies and the crying and eventually, the peace and the healing.

you'd be lying if you said that despite how clearly proud of her you were, you missed having leah around as much now she was medically cleared and back fit and fighting for her beloved arsenal.

date nights were often forgotten, leah hanging back in the gym to do some extra work or to meet one on one with the physios ensuring her recovery was still right on track.

despite your own studies you made sure to be at every single game each weekend if leah was playing or not. but when she used to greet you afterwards with a bear hug and a sneaky kiss, whisking the pair of you away back home for a night of takeaway and horrendously cheesy rom coms, had disappeared as she instead spent time looking back on game footage with the head defensive coach or watching at home on her own ipad, normally requesting some space to do so.

but as always, you knew what this meant to her. football wasn't just leah's passion it was her life, and you wouldn't be the person to stand in the way of her achieving everything she wanted to and more, you were always her biggest cheerleader.

there was an international camp coming up and you knew that was her next goal, her focus narrowed down to have her name on that squad list her sole vision for the next few weeks, and of course as usual you'd been nothing but supportive of her.

but you had your own milestones incoming, your own goals to lock in on and finalizing your thesis was one of the last. leah had of course showered you with praise and attention and affection that night and you felt like things had started to slip back where they left off.

but then a few days later and again you were left sat at the dining room table alone on date night, reading a book and looking longingly over to the door awaiting the jingle of your lovers keys in its lock, but by the time it came you were long asleep in bed, leahs dinner left wrapped in cling film in the fridge, untouched and discarded by you that next morning.

as much as you put on a brave face, there was always someone who saw through any attempt at a wall you threw up for your own defense, and that was your cousin.

it had taken a little bit of clever reverse psychology and a mountain of carbs in the form of your favorite pasta dish but eventually alessia had you opening up about feelings you'd pushed down and down and down.

having known you longer and family meaning everything to alessia you knew the blonde would take your side, not that there was even an argument or 'sides' to be taken at all. but also always level headed and your go to for advice your entire life you took on board what she had to say.

she encouraged you to open up to leah and talk everything out, urging that the older girl was clearly head over heels for you and likely didn't even realise her actions were making you feel like this.

alessia cautioned that the longer you let these feelings sit the bigger chance they could begin to turn into resentment, to fester away and become much more negative, eating away at you piece by piece, the more likely that leah would continue on forward blindly, unaware of your feelings of neglect and you could both wind up hurt.

you wished you'd listened to her.

finally a week later your final hurdle arrived, your graduation.

given it was quite the extensive class you'd been apart of you only had a small handful of tickets to extend, but of course your cousin and your girlfriend had received their invitations weeks ago.

alessia had taken you out shopping a few days ago to find a dress, leah very kindly offering to come but you could see the slight grimace on her face at the thought and dismissed it with a smile, thanking her with a soft kiss for offering.

you needed to arrive earlier than your family, so alessia had texted leah the night before offering to pick her up and carpool. your girlfriend however assumed the blonde had meant a lift to training that next morning and declined, advising she would make her own way.

you'd also of course spoken about your nerves for tomorrow, leah only half listening as she studied the training footage she'd requested on her ipad, assuring everything would be fine and kissing your forehead as you hummed and settled down in bed beside her.

you were used to falling asleep first, back turned to your girlfriend as her fingers drummed away against her screen, wishing for nothing more than the nights where leah would be pressed up against you.

where she was present, involved, attentive. but again you chose not to mention it, afraid she'd take your feelings of neglect for neediness and the voices in your head warned it would mean your blonde lover would pull away even further out of reach.

it wasn't unusual for you to be up and gone when leah woke for trainings some mornings, the early bird out of the pair of you you often loved a morning run to clear your head, having long given up trying to convince your sleep loving bed hogging girlfriend to join you.

so she thought nothing of it when the time ticked by and still you hadn't returned, chalking it up to you maybe going for breakfast afterwards with a friend.

if she'd been paying attention when she raced out to her car, piece of toast hanging out of her mouth and her shoes in hand she might have noted your car was gone too.

leah was so wrapped up in training preparing for this weeks game, knowing sarina would be there to watch, she hadn't even tweaked your cousins absence, missing the flittering conversations that alessia had a family commitment.

never having her phone on her during training, leah was surprised to check it after showering to see an abundance of missed calls, messages and facetime attempts from a handful of different people.

"what the fuck?" the blonde mumbled, muttering her goodbyes to her teammates as she made her way quickly out of colney and sat down in her car, deciding to just start from the last missed call she had which was from her mum.

the girl couldn't even get a word in to ask what had happened before amanda was speaking, exhaling in relief at her daughters contact popping up on her phone.

“finally! I understand you might not have been allowed your phone for a face time during the ceremony but you better have some photos and videos to send me." amanda laughed, leahs frown only deepening but again she couldn't get a word in.

"god i bet she looked beautiful, she's such a gorgeous girl i've always said that! but now with a doctorate. oh leah did you cry? i bet your brother you'd cry!" amanda laughed as leah opened and closed her mouth in confusion.

"sorry, mum what are you on about?" leah finally managed to speak, a brief pause of silence on the other end. "fine so you didn't cry! you are a softie though bubba you can't deny me that. but i'm with your grandma so send me some photos at least to show her!" amanda encouraged as leahs eyebrows furrowed.

“sorry i'm a bit lost here. photos of what mum?” "the graduation of course, what else?" "whose graduation? you're not making any sense."

there was a few beats of silence, amanda having moved away for a moment to somewhere a bit more private.

"leah if this is a joke, it isn’t funny.” her mum warned seriously, tone shifting as leah scoffed. "of course its not a joke! i don't know what you're on about with this gradua-" but the words died in her mouth as finally things seemed to click.

"oh no no no fucking hell please no!” leah panicked, putting the phone down on her centre console as her chest tightened and her heart began to race.

"leah catherine williamson. please tell me you didn't forget your own girlfriends graduation ceremony." amanda spoke much more quietly, disbelief evident in her voice as leah fumbled around, knowing it was in here somewhere.

then she found it, the invitation.

you'd both been in the car when you'd shown it to her, leah having picked you up from a friends house where you'd had a few too many drinks for her to want you in an uber, smiling in amusement as you toddled your way down the driveway to her.

she hadn't seen you all day but the moment she'd gotten you safely in the car you'd presented her with the small slip of paper, leah's eyes widening in pride for a moment before her lips were showering every inch of your face in kisses as you'd laughed and shoved her off.

but the melodic sound of your laughter was a stark comparison to the stuffy horrendous silence which filled her car now as leah stared in both horror and disgust at the date on the paper clenched tightly in her fist.

"mum i need to go."

#woso community #woso #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs #leah williamson imagine

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hcneymooners · 4 months ago

Text

⋆ arcane but it's a private university au ( for the girls: pt. ii )

ice princess!f!reader x multi. f!characters. men & minors dni.

synopsis: private university!arcane headcanons but it’s really specific bc it’s based on my time at catholic private school except this au is just a private hold the catholic.

cw: this part contains scenarios for jinx, sevika, & ambessa. writing for jinx was actually my favorite portion (ambessa, please forgive me.) suggestive content. notes: i love them so bad. you can find part one here. i didn't include the intro since i did it in the first one! i love you.

jinx : the "bad influence."

୨୧ the two of you met mid-sprint, fleeing a party broken up by the police. it was one of those raw, electric moments where adrenaline surges and strangers become allies in chaos.

୨୧ in the frenzied escape, she tripped, her knees hitting the pavement hard. without hesitation, you yanked her up, kicking away an overzealous officer with surprising precision.

୨୧ all you caught were glimpses: two impossibly long blue braids swinging like a pendulum and wide, heavily-lashed pink eyes that lingered on yours, a strange curiosity etched into their neon stare.

୨୧ your fingers found hers without thinking, and together you ran—your heeled feet stumbling across glitter-streaked concrete littered with shattered glass and discarded red cups.

୨୧ the chase ended in a hole-in-the-wall thai spot, rain pouring in sheets outside. bundled in your oversized vintage fur coat, dark brown and impossibly warm, you glanced at her—soaked, shivering, and unapologetically smug.

୨୧ against every instinct, you shifted, lifting the bulk of your coat to drape over her smaller frame. pressed close, you felt the cold bite of her skin and the cherry tang of her perfume, thick and sharp. her stomach—toned, pale, and adorned with vibrant tattoos—drew your attention as it flexed when she flagged down the waitress.

୨୧ she was so deeply beautiful and so fucking close to you and you’re shivering and wet together.

୨୧ silence settled between you as she grew overly familiar, stealing bites from your plate and feeding you egg rolls with a crooked grin. her nails scraped against your bottom lip, and she laughed when you blinked, stunned, swallowing more than just food.

୨୧ at some point, she leaned in, stealing a sip from your drink, her lips lingering on the rim.

୨୧ you paid.

୨୧ "thanks, ice princess," she murmured as you left. only then did it hit you—she knew you. you must’ve crossed paths on campus, and yet, she felt like a stranger from a different world.

୨୧ she pressed a glossy pink kiss to your cheek, saluted with mock reverence, and vanished into the seedy underbelly of the city.

୨୧ you thought about her for weeks.

୨୧ you didn’t expect to see her again. but days later, there she was on campus, leaning against the vending machine in your dorm building like she belonged there.

୨୧ “ice princess,” she greeted, that crooked grin pulling at her lips. “guess we’re neighbors.”

୨୧ you didn’t know what to say. it was one thing to pull a stranger out of trouble and share a meal in some forgotten corner of the city. it was another to see her here, part of your world, like she’d been there all along.

୨୧ she started showing up more often after that—slipping into your study sessions at the library, tagging along when you grabbed coffee. she was loud and reckless, her laughter echoing off the quiet walls, drawing stares that you pretended not to notice.

୨୧ it wasn’t long before she started pushing you out of your comfort zone. sneaking you into underground parties, dragging you to rooftop hangouts where the city stretched out beneath you, glittering and endless.

୨୧ she made you feel alive in a way you hadn’t realized you were missing.

୨୧ you couldn’t stop staring at her tattoos, the colorful, intricate designs that covered her stomach and arms. one night, without thinking, you reached out to trace a line along her skin.

୨୧ she caught your hand before you could pull back, her fingers curling around yours. “you like ‘em, huh, mama?” she said, her voice low and teasing. your cheeks burned, and you stammered something incoherent, but she only laughed, pressing your palm flat against her stomach. “gonna get one just for you. we can match.”

୨୧ she had a habit of being overly familiar—feeding you bites of her food, letting her fingers linger against your lips as you swallowed. one time, her thumb brushed your bottom lip, and you caught her smirk as she let her teeth graze her fork, slow and deliberate.

୨୧ you knew you were falling for her. it was impossible not to. the way she leaned in close when she talked, her perfume sweet and enticing, her lips always just a little too close. the way she made you feel like the only person in the room, even in a crowd.

୨୧ not everyone saw her the way you did. when someone from your social circle made a snide comment about her, you didn’t hesitate to defend her. “she’s smarter than all of you combined,” you snapped, your voice colder than ice. “and she’s got more heart than you’ll ever understand.”

୨୧ it was after that that she started pulling away. her laughter came less easily, her touch less frequent.

୨୧ “you don’t get it,” she told you one night, her voice brittle. “i’m… broken. you shouldn’t—”

୨୧ “jinx,” you interrupted, your tone firm but gentle. “i’m from a legacy family. and, according to my family, i "choose" to like girls. i’m definitely fucked up. so how could i judge you?”

୨୧ she stared at you for a long moment, her eyes softening, and for the first time, she was at a loss for words.

୨୧ your first kiss wasn’t rushed or reckless. it was quiet, heavy with the weight of everything building between you.

୨୧ you were sitting together on the roof of her sister’s apartment, the city lights stretching out below, and she was looking at you like she wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

୨୧ “you’re staring,” you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.

୨୧ “yeah,” she said, her grin softer than you’d ever seen it. “so what?”

୨୧ before you could answer, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours like a question. when you didn’t pull away, she kissed you deeper, her hand cupping your jaw, her thumb tracing your cheekbone.

୨୧ she tasted like strawberry chapstick and danger, and you never wanted to let her go. when she finally pulled back, her forehead resting against yours, she smiled.

୨୧ “told you,” she murmured, her voice soft and warm. “you’re stuck with me now.”

୨୧ you smiled back, cheeks aching. "i'm not stuck. i'm right where i want to be." ୨୧ she leaned back, dragging you into her lap. a slender finger dipped into your skirt's waistband and fingered the lace dip of your panties. your breath hitched, and she kissed your throat. "c'mon. lemme hear you, mama."

୨୧ from that moment on, you were hers—completely, irrevocably hers.

p.s you say fuck it, choose her over your fuck ass homophobic family, get disowned, get married, start a million dollar engineering empire, & have isha.

sevika: the older student.

୨୧ you first noticed her in your advanced biochem lab—all sharp angles and calculated movements, her mechanical arm gleaming under fluorescent lights as she measured solutions with military precision.

୨୧ sevika was notorious among grad students: brilliant, ruthless, and absolutely not interested in working with undergrads. which made it particularly unfortunate when professor silco paired you together for the semester's research project.

୨୧ she was older than most students—whispers said she dropped out years ago and came back after “handling some things.” no one was brave enough to ask what that meant, but her reputation kept most people at arm’s length.

୨୧ her expression when your name was called could have curdled milk. you lifted your chin, met her gaze steadily, and pretended your heart wasn't racing.

୨୧ sevika didn’t bother to introduce herself. she just crossed her arms over her broad chest and grumbled, “you’re doing the talking.” her voice was low, almost lazy.

୨୧ "i'm not carrying dead weight," she said at your first session. you noticed a scar bisecting her left eye, the way her jaw clenched when she spoke. "if we're doing this, we do it my way." “thought you said i’d be talking,” you snapped back.

୨୧ 'her way' meant late nights in the lab, your designer clothes traded for practical cotton, hair pulled back from your face. she worked you relentlessly, expecting perfection in every measurement, every calculation. but beneath her harsh exterior, you caught glimpses of something else—the way she'd correct your form without mockery, how she'd appear with coffee when your hands started shaking from exhaustion.

୨୧ it was after one of these late sessions that it happened. you were walking back to your dorm, mind fuzzy with fatigue and feet stumbling, when rough hands grabbed you from behind. before you could scream, a low voice cut through the darkness: "let her go, or i remove your hands permanently."

୨୧ sevika stood there, golden eyes burning in the streetlight, her mechanical arm whirring softly. the would-be mugger took one look at her and ran. you stayed frozen, heart thundering in your chest, until she clicked her tongue in disapproval. “get it together, princess. come on."

୨୧ she led you to an alcove and watched you flutter with delayed panic like a bird, mouth twisted with an unreadable expression. "you need to learn to defend yourself," she said finally. it wasn't a suggestion. you opened your mouth to argue, but she cut you off. “gym. tomorrow. six am. wear something you can actually move in."

୨୧ that's how you found yourself spending your mornings with sevika, learning to throw punches and break holds. she was a harsh teacher, but her hands were surprisingly gentle when correcting your stance. "again," she'd say, and you'd try to ignore how your skin tingled where she touched.

୨୧ soon enough, she started showing up wherever you were—whether it was a coffee shop, the library, or your favorite bench on campus. “just passing through,” she claimed. still, the way she always ended up sitting beside you said otherwise. she knew you were anxious, your body tensing whenever someone passed by. your airpods haven’t been in noise cancellation mode for three weeks.

୨୧ her mechanical arm fascinated you. one day, you asked about it, your curiosity outweighing your hesitation. she shrugged, but you caught the faintest twitch of a smile when you told her you thought it was beautiful.

୨୧ the project evolved, and so did whatever was growing between you. she started letting you help maintain her arm, teaching you the intricate mechanisms. your fingers would brush as you worked, and sometimes she'd let them linger. "careful," she'd murmur, but you were never sure if she meant with the machinery or with her.

୨୧ in these moments, she had a way of looking at you that made your stomach flip—like she was sizing you up, deciding if you’re worth her time.

୨୧ you began to seek her out. the first time you loitered in the parking lot of her condo, fingers twitching nervously as you texted that you stopped by. she opened the door and lounged against the doorway, thick thighs bared by her boxers and skin gleaming from a recent workout. she laughed as you gasped and turned away.

୨୧ “what the fuck, sevika!” “princess, we have the same parts. they probably would feel real nice pushed togeth—“ “SEVIKA.”

୨୧ she pushed you out of your comfort zone in quiet, deliberate ways. you’re dragged to the campus bar, taught how to play pool (and lose), and laughing when you scratch on the break. “you’re hopeless, princess,” she teased, her smirk revealing her perfect gap teeth.

୨୧ her teasing was relentless, and she always called you “princess” and sometimes “baby girl” like it was on your birth certificate. you flushed every time, which only encouraged her.

୨୧ the first time you successfully pinned her during a self-defense session, she actually laughed—a rich, surprised sound that made your heart stutter. "not bad, baby girl,” she said, still beneath you, her organic hand warm on your hip. you became acutely aware of your position, of how close her face was to yours. neither of you moved for a long moment.

୨୧ if you’re becoming way too possessive of her, sue you. you’re the only undergrad who’s smuggled yourself under her wing and you’d like to keep it that way, goddamnit. you were never good at sharing anyway.

୨୧ it came to a head at an afterparty, your eye twitching as you watched some bitch (sorry!) trace her talons across sevika’s waist, which was framed admirably by a dark pair of jeans that were practically painted on.

୨୧ it only took a few seconds for you to stomp across the room and root a hand around her neck, drawing her into a searing kiss. you kissed her like you were trying to draw juice from her lips, moaning as she tugged you in closer.

୨୧ she kissed like she fought—precise, demanding, taking no prisoners. she backed you against the counter, knocking over a bottle of malibu, mechanical hand cool against your hips. “didn’t know you had it in you,” she laughed. “shut up, sevika. my god.” you grabbed her collar, reeled her back in.

୨୧ "you're my special girl,” she'd tell you later, tracing patterns on your skin with metal fingers. “the only one i give a fuck about. no competition.” her voice was bleeding with affection, and you curled into her side. she pressed kisses to your hair and leaned over to set an alarm for the both you—one for her, four for you.

୨୧ it worked, somehow—your refined, gilded edges against her sharp ones. you learned to throw a punch; she learned that you would lock her out if she didn’t allow you to spoil her relentlessly. “princess, i already have a bike.” “keep talking, honey, and i’ll purchase the whole dealership.” “now—“

୨୧ "you're trying to kill me slowly,” she grumbled, watching you charm your way through department gatherings. but she'd be there anyway, a solid presence at your back, her mechanical hand resting possessively at your waist. and when you'd lean into her touch, she'd hide her smile in your hair.

୨୧ if anyone found it strange to see the ice princess curled up in the lap of the most feared grad student on campus, well, one look from sevika's narrowed eyes was enough to silence any commentary.

୨୧ you were a fucking princess, both in real life and in her bed, but fuck you were hers. and sevika protected what was hers.

ambessa medarda : the professor.

୨୧ you first saw her across a dimly lit hotel bar. you were three drinks in, mascara smeared from crying after the worst fight yet with your mother. "disappointing," she'd called you. "ungrateful." all because you refused to date the son of her country club friends.

୨୧ “mommy, please,” you’d sobbed. “i’m not ungrateful. i just don’t love him.” she’d left you with the dial tone.

୨୧ you rubbed a fist across your face like a child, attempting to gather yourself. your phonecall was denied again, and you winced at the tinny voice of your mother’s voicemail, setting it down and turning it off. god, this was the worst thing to happen to you in a long time.

୨୧ with a sigh, you glanced up at the mirror behind the bar. she was looking right back.

୨୧ the woman was striking—white locs swept into an elegant updo, wearing a low-cut red dress that hugged her body tightly. she moved like a lioness, back flexing as she hunkered down over the glossy wood. her golden eyes met yours, and your stomach began to spin. you knew this was the beginning of a dangerous game.

୨୧ after a minute she walked over, hands bearing water instead of another drink. "crying in bars rarely solves anything, little one," she said, her accent rich and heady. when you tried to argue, she simply raised an eyebrow, and you found yourself downing the glass in its entirety.

୨୧ you kept eye contact as you swallowed, tongue peeking out to lap at the remnants along your lips.

୨୧ you don't remember who moved first. but you remember her hands—strong, calloused—gripping your thighs. remember her voice, rough with want, whispering against your neck. remember the way she claimed you, leaving mottled marks you'd find days later.

୨୧ you remember waking up alone in her hotel room, a glass of water and two aspirin on the nightstand. no note. just the lingering scent of her perfume—spiced and earthy—on the sheets.

୨୧ you tried to forget her. tried to forget how she'd called you “sweet girl” when you'd bitten her shoulder, how she'd laughed darkly and pinned your hands above your head, called you “easy” when you sobbed out pitiful demands for her to go harder and faster, do destroy you from the inside out.

୨୧ then came the first day of advanced military history.

୨୧ "good morning, class. i'm professor medarda."

୨୧ your blood ran cold. there she stood—your favorite fantasy, your most well-spent drunken night—looking devastatingly beautiful in a tailored suit. her eyes found yours immediately, and you saw the recognition flash in them, followed by something darker, more primal.

୨୧ you tried to drop the class. she denied your request personally.

୨୧ "running away?" she asked during mandatory office hours, pouring tea from an ornate set. "that's not the fierce girl i remember. you scratched me all up.”

୨୧ your cheeks burned. "professor—"

୨୧ "ambessa," she corrected, sliding the tea across her desk. “i think we’re past the formalities.”

୨୧ you couldn't avoid her. she called on you in class, her voice caressing your name. kept you after lectures to "discuss your work." you told yourself the tension would fade.

୨୧ it didn't.

୨୧ "i need a teaching assistant," she announced one evening, when you'd stayed too late reviewing your paper. "someone sharp. strategic. devoted.” her fingers brushed yours as she took your empty teacup. "interested?"

୨୧ you should have said no. you should have viewed her wolfish grin as a red flag, grabbed your shit, and hauled ass. instead, you heard yourself say, “of course.”

୨୧ being her TA meant late nights in her office, her perfume making you dizzy with memories. meant watching her command rooms full of students while remembering how she'd commanded your body. it meant pretending you couldn't feel her eyes on you, hungry and possessive.

୨୧ "we should establish some boundaries,” you said finally, after weeks of delicious torture.

୨୧ "should we?" she moved like a predator, backing you against her desk. "or should we discuss how you keep shivering when i get too close?"

୨୧ your breath caught. "this is inappropriate."

୨୧ “mmm, entirely," she agreed, one hand sliding into your hair, the other around your neck. “now, tell me to stop."

୨୧ you didn’t.

୨୧ “little minx,” she murmured and you kissed her, surging forward and into her lap.

୨୧ it became your secret—stolen moments in her office after hours, weekends at her apartment where she'd cook elaborate dishes and tear your papers to shreds, nights where she'd make you forget your own name and squeal hers.

୨୧ “good girl” she'd murmur against your skin, switching to noxian when you drove her too far. she ordained you with names that meant something far more possessive and crude in her native tongue.

୨୧ the whole thing made you feel deliciously stained and you sought her out to purify you time and time again. you kept it hidden until graduation. until you had your degree in hand and nothing left to lose.

୨୧ the scandal was delicious—respected professor medarda and her former student, now openly living together. your mother was horrified. society whispered.

୨୧ "regrets?" ambessa asked one morning, watching you sip the spiced coffee you'd grown to love.

୨୧ you thought of that night at the bar, of all the paths that led you here. "never." it turned out some mistakes are worth making twice.

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secretlovezz · 2 years ago

Text

Simon with an s/o who has a cat

Prt.2 here! <-

He hates your cat 😭

Their literally mortal enemies it's ridiculous

The cat glares at Simon 24/7 and he stares right back

You finally make it home after a stressful day at work ready to shower and relax. You open the front door and call out, "I'm home!" You get no response. It makes your brows furrow in confusion, having been used to a little furry friend lying on your unused shoes waiting for you to get home or hearing the heavy steps of your boyfriend making his way toward you. But today there was no welcome wagon for you.

Your heart immediately racks in worry the once steady beat of it moving to an unnaturally quick pace. Your hands move faster to remove your shoes and jacket wanting to look for the person and cat that once populated your apartment.

You call out again, "Simon? My Baby?"

"In here, dove." At the sound of your lover's voice, you're on the move heading to where his voice had been most prominent.

When you get to Simon- in the bathroom -he's clad in only a towel water still dripping from his hair and body and condensation on the mirror signifying he's just gotten out of the shower. Then your gaze goes to his face and his eyes aren't on you they're focused on something on the counter.

Your cat.

They're staring at each other both of them refusing to look away from one another. They were barely blinking. Then you realize why Simon's having a glaring contest with your pet, it's because the cat was on his clothes refusing to move out of pure stubbornness.

Suddenly you're glaring at the both of them too, "Are you guys being serious right now? This is getting ridiculous," you tell them and with Simon's response you roll your eyes and walk away.

"Oh, this is deadly serious, love"

Sometimes when Simon walks by your cat it latches onto Simon's leg kicking and biting the shit out of him (your poor boyfriend is just about ready to chuck the cat into outer space)

Your little fur baby definitely steals or tries to steal food from Simon's plates. Simon swears the cat gets stronger when determined to get into his stuff

Simon's cups have been knocked off of tables more often then not being left to clean up a mess that isn't his

Your looking up from your plate of food as soon as you hear grumbles and silverware clanking roughly against a porcelain plate. You smile a little at the sight in front of you. Simon's pushing your cats head back away from his food, while the cat uses all of his strength. Simon's scowl at the animal only gets deeper when he sees you smile at his unfortunate situation.

"You better not be smilin'," He says annoyance clear in his tone.

Now your laughing, a sound simon usually adores, one that makes his body relax, one that makes him feel safe, but now it has him clenching his jaw and has his eyebrows furrowed.

"Make 'im stop," He growls.

You pretent to think about it for a moment, pointer finger tapping your chin in faux thought, "I don't know si... this is thoroughly entertaining. What's in it for me if I help you?" The vein on his arm looked like it might burst at your question.

"If you don't get this dammed cat away from me it's gonna go missin'," you roll your eyes at his dramatics but called your cat to you regardless.

When you cuddle with one of them the other gets sooooo jealous

Simon will literally toss your little baby off the bed

The cat hits and claws for simon to get away from you

(Your constantly having to scold them its like having two children)

These two will argue with each other Simon's voice is stern its how you imagine he talks to new recruits and your cat is meowing loudly at him clearing cussing him tf out

Groggily peeling open your crused eyes open but quickly closing them as the bright morning sun peeked through your bedroom window you start to awaken. You rubbed into your eyes with the back of your fist before opening them again moving to look at the clock on the bedside table.

11:23

You slept in, or really someone let you sleep in because to your right your boyfriend seemed to have long since left the bed leaving the side he usually accompanied empty and cold.

You stretched and groaned the sheets and blankets moved with you weird groans and grunts leaving your yawning mouth as your joints crackled and popped. You sat up in bed still drowsy with sleep barley aware of your surroundings but still you gripped the enormous blanket and wrapped it around yourself as an act to shield the breezy-ness of the winter weather that leaked into your apartment.

Mreeeooow!

Your head whips to the door at the loud sound. Your cat was talkative but he was never very loud about him. This time the usual cute sound was replaced with an almost screech that made you cringe.

You take a deep breath before standing up and making your way to your room door. Once you open it the sounds of your cat get louder and now you can hear Simon too. His voice is booming but isn't loud it's stern and serious but filled with frustration and anger.

As you walk down the hall to the living area your duvet drag behind you on the floor. The floor creaks and groans under your feet alerting the two others in your home. Both their heads snap towards you. Your little baby's ears are pinned back in airplane mode and his pupils are dilated. Your big baby has his nose scrunched and lips downturned into a frown.

Your voice is laced with tiredness and a little deeper than it normally is, "What are you two arguing about this time?" The back of your hand is rubbing one of your eyes again as you speak.

"The little fucker is bein' disrespectful, he's not listenin' to me."

The cat meows loudly in response to Simon seeming trying to say he was lying.

You sigh and move to pick your cat up, he turns to putty in your arms and nuzzles his head against your chin. You walk towards Simon now. Leaning into him and humming contently when he wrapped his arms around you and the little one in your arms pretending to be annoyed but fully relaxing against your body.

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley fluff

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hollowdeath · 1 year ago

Text

injured (hjp)

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

summary: as hermione's new friend, you and harry are constantly bugging each other any time you're together. however, one day, during training for dumbledore's army, you get injured, causing harry to lash out before promptly carrying you to the infirmary.

word count: 2k

cw: mentions of blood, mostly just fluff, maybe slight angst if you squint hard enough

a/n: yet another lil sfw blurb i wrote between requests <3 hope yall don't mind, might do a part 2 if anyone wants it!

"does she always have to be invited to everything?" harry groans, nodding towards you as you continue trying to steal his scarf. you're both following behind ron and hermione through the snow on the way to hagrid's hut for tea. hermione laughs in response along with you. "yes, she does. it's nice having another girl around." she tells harry, giving you a shy smile. you return the same smile, reaching over to successfully steal harry's scarf from him. "yep, you're stuck with me, potter," you tease him, wrapping the scarf around yourself.

harry rolls his eyes, stealing the scarf back from you. "well, can't you ever bother hermione? your actual friend? or ron? why is it always me?" harry complained as he dodged another attempt at you taking his scarf. "they're not as fun to mess with," you whine, crossing your arms. hermione giggles, giving ron a knowing side-eye that he returns.

you narrow your eyes at their exchange. "what?" you ask them. hermione looks over her shoulder at you with the same smug expression before turning away and giggling again. "hermione," you warn her, uncrossing your arms. she just keeps laughing, only making you more suspicious. "nothing, [y/n]," she tells you sarcastically, shaking her head.

"yeah, mind your business, [y/n]," harry interjects. he flinches when you turn to look at him, making you laugh. "yeah, that's what i thought, potter," you say triumphantly, reaching for his scarf once more.

"seriously?" you ask harry as he takes yet another piece of food off your plate. he's holding back a laugh as he quickly eats it, giving you a devious look. "i asked if you were hungry and you said no! now keep your grubby fingers off my plate," you playfully scold him, pulling your plate closer to you. ron and hermione laugh, giving each other that same knowing look.

"oh i'm not hungry, i just know you hate people taking your food." harry says with a smirk, reaching his hand out again before you smack it away. "ow!" harry exclaims, holding his aching knuckles. "really? you steal my food all the time!"

you're the one smirking this time as you say, "yeah, but it's funny when i do it." taking another bite of your food, harry narrows his eyes at you. he waits for his chance and quickly sneaks another piece of food, successfully stealing it away as you try to stop him. "ha!" he laughs with his mouth full, pointing at you. you give him a look, which makes hermione laugh harder.

"you two are ridiculous," she sighs, taking a bite of her own food. "oh, come on, he started it!" you say with a hand pointed at harry. he pretends to bite your finger and you narrow your eyes at him, reaching to grab the glasses off his face. "no, no, no," harry warns you, frantically grabbing for the glasses to take them from your hands as you lean away from him. "ha!" you repeat after him, pointing at him as you continue pulling away from his grasp. harry leans across the table and nearly falls before he successfully snatches the glasses from your fingers. "ha!" he says again with a cocky smile, sitting down and placing them back on his face.

ron rolls his eyes, taking a sip of his drink. "i agree with hermione. ridiculous." he says with that same knowing smile. harry scoffs, giving ron a look. "whatever," he shrugs him off. "she started it," harry repeats after you, nodding in your direction as he tries to hide his smirk. you roll your eyes at him, but you're hiding the same devious smile.

"late again, ms. [y/l/n]?" harry asks you in a teasing voice as you walk down the hall towards the room of requirement. you rolled your eyes at him. "shut it, potter. just be glad i came." you snap back, giving him a smirk as you pass through the doorway.

harry followed you in, making sure no one was watching behind him. he began the meeting thanking everyone for coming back for yet another round of training for dumbledore's army, and wanted to go over defense tactics again. as he started reviewing all the different spells and wand movements from the week prior, he asked everyone to partner up and work on practicing them again.

the session was going really well, and harry was helping people individually to get the motions perfect. he was just working with a first year student when he heard a yell from behind him, followed by a crash and a crowd of gasps. harry spun on his heel to see hermione running from across the room, dropping her wand in the process. this immediately worried harry more.

he made his way to the gathering crowd in the corner when he heard hermione say your name in exasperation. harry's pace picked up and he pushed himself through the crowd of students urgently.

he found hermione kneeling at your side, blocking his view of you. only your converse-covered feet littered with rubble and dust were visible from his angle. harry quickly rushed to your other side, his stomach dropping at the sight of your unconscious body, freezing completely when he notices blood coming from under your shirt. hermione was checking your breathing and heartbeat and trying to wake you up. harry's shock flipped into anger within a second, turning to the crowd that had gathered around you.

"who did it?" he asked, his tone rough and impatient. everyone stayed quiet hearing how upset harry was. they had never seen him be anything other than shy, kind, and timid.

"well? who was her partner? huh? who the fuck hit her?" harry yells the last part, causing a few students flinch.

"harry. it was an accident." hermione snaps towards him, causing him to look back at her. he's breathing heavily, staring into hermione's narrowed eyes as she holds your hand in hers.

harry's anger subsided, if only for a moment, seeing your shirt start to stain with blood. his anger was replaced with concern, dropping to one knee and picking you up in his arms. "harry," hermione tries to stop him, but harry interrupts her. "i'm taking her to the infirmary now. i'll make up something on the way. send everyone home." he tells hermione in a rushed voice as he carefully adjusts you in his arms, your neck limp as your head falls into harry's chest.

he rushes out of the room, ron holding the doors open for him, giving him a tight smile with worried eyes. "she'll be alright, mate," ron tries to reassure him, but harry's already practically jogging to the hospital wing.

a few hours later the sun has long since set, and you open your eyes to a dark room lined with windows showing the stars outside. you try to sit up in the bed you're lying in and you're immediately hit with an intense wave of pain, making you groan and wince. you notice movement to your right and turn to see harry's sleeping body on a chair pulled up beside your cot. you hadn't even seen him at first, so you were a bit surprised, letting out a gasp at his sudden presence.

this wakes him up, his eyes snapping open towards you and standing from his uncomfortable sleeping position to come to your side. "[y/n]," he says softly, his voice still groggy, hands resting on your shoulders to lay you back down again. you groan again as you lie back, your face twisted in pain. harry winces just the same, moving the pillow under you to better support your neck.

"i know, it's okay, you're okay," he coos. you look at him weirdly, never experiencing this caring side of him so intimately. "what happened?" you ask, glancing at the IV machine attached to your arm. "am i in the infirmary?"

harry sighs, his eyes searching you carefully for any discomfort. "yes, you are. your bloody first year partner hit you with his stupefy and nearly killed you." harry informed you, his voice gradually getting angrier before stopping himself to take a deep breath. "sorry. i didn't mean that. all you got was a concussion, and a nasty scar on your stomach. but, he could've hurt you worse," harry tells you, the anger returning any time he mentions your partner. "i swear to you, [y/n], he's never coming to another practice again. and i don't care if he tells the whole school, that kid is finished."

you can't help but chuckle at how riled up harry is, earning a confused look from him. you shake your head weakly. "it was probably just an accident, potter. no need to pitch a fit." you tell him with that same smirk as always. harry's body relaxes, breathing a sigh of relief at your nonchalant reaction and usual sarcasm making its return. though he wants to roll his eyes at how unaffected you are learning about your injuries, he's too concerned to even pretend to joke.

"wait, how did i get here? i don't even remember walking in," you say in confusion, trying to recall the afternoon. harry awkwardly shifts his weight beside you. "yeah, um, well, i had to carry you." he tells you. you shoot him a look full of confusion, shock, and humor. "you? you carried me across the school?" you ask with an incredulous chuckle. "you were unconscious! and bleeding! i had to get you here quickly." harry defends himself, throwing his arms up.

you laugh and shake your head again, rubbing your face. "since when have you started caring about my well being, potter? i thought i was just a pest to you," you inquire, cocking an eyebrow at harry. he nervously blinks and looks away from you, clearing his throat. "you were under my supervision, didn't want you to sue me or anything." harry says with a smirk, still awkwardly shifting his weight back and forth with his hands in his pockets.

"right," you scoff at him jokingly.

harry sighs, pulling his seat closer to your bed so he can sit down again. "look," he says, his eyes still not quite meeting yours. "i know we joke around a lot, and, y'know, you may even actually annoy me a bit sometimes…" he trails off, chuckling to himself. you lightly slap his leg closest to you, holding back your own laugh.

"but, seeing you like that on the ground, seeing the blood, i was terrified. i didn't know if you were okay and that killed me. i don't know what i would've done if…" he trails off again, his voice caught in his throat.

you give harry a sympathetic smile, studying his tired face. he was looking towards the ground, his hair disheveled, glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. he looked upset as his eyebrows furrowed together in thought.

"did you stay here all day?" you asked him softly. harry looks up at you with surprise, his eyes studying yours. "yeah," he says simply. you look to your left towards a grandfather clock and see it's nearly 3 in the morning.

you give him another curious look. "harry," you start to say, but you're at a loss for words. he chuckles again, his eyes still studying yours intently. "i wasn't leaving. the nurses nearly fought me multiple times." he tells you bluntly. you laugh, wincing at the pain it causes you, but can't hold back. "harry, you didn't have to do that."

harry gives you a half hearted smile. "i know," he shrugs.

you return the smile. "well, thank you, then. for waiting and for bringing me here." you thank harry genuinely, causing him to blush and wave you off. you reach out to poke his sides in attempt to tickle him. "and i guess you really do care, hm?" you tease him.

harry squirms away and laughs, his blush intensifying. "yeah, yeah, whatever."

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