#and then he introduces himself and I recognize the name and I ask what part of town everyone is from | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

puckinghischier · 11 months ago

Text

Bouy

nico hischier x fem!reader, jack hughes x platonic!reader, luke hughes x platonic!reader

summary: reader gets dragged to the bar by jack to meet all of his teammates, but finds herself drawn to a certain swiss captain

notes: part 2 to locksmith!! probably some inaccuracies about various player’s personalities, but all in the name of entertainment, right? i didn’t proofread either, oops. don’t know if i’m happy with how this turned out but here it is nonetheless. hope you enjoy!! 🫶🏼

part 1, part 3, part 4

[4.6k]

The bar that Jack picked is surprisingly busy for a week night. It’s not overcrowded, but it’s busy enough to where you’re having to hold on to the back of his shirt so you don’t lose him. He leads the two of you over to a set of tables tucked away at the back of the bar. Jack is greeted with shouts and hugs as you drop your grip on him and simply stand back, letting him have his moment. You recognize a few of the faces, no names coming to mind, but most of the faces you’ve never seen before. You should know the names and faces of who you’re assuming are Jack’s teammates, but the truth is, despite your relationship with the Hughes family, you’ve never been one to follow hockey very closely. You don’t come from an area where hockey is a big deal, and though you understand the logistics of the game and you’ve traveled to watch all three brothers in some of their biggest games pre-NHL, your knowledge of the league’s players pretty much begins and ends with Jack, Luke, and Quinn.

“Long time no see, hallway sleeper,” you’re pulled from your thoughts at the sound of a voice in your ear. You turn to see Nico, no hat this time, soft, brown hair on full display. He was still wearing a white t-shirt, only his sweats have been swapped for jeans this time.

“Long time no see, locksmith.”

Nico laughs, and for the second time today you allow yourself to think about how lovely the sound is. “You know, all in a day’s work.”

“Sounds like someone really should have a conversation with the big heads at the NHL. Their poor players work so hard, only to have to pick up second jobs on their off days in order to pay the bills. Shame on them,” you joke.

“I know! Maybe it’s time I go on strike, put my full attention to helping pretty girls break into their apartments full time,” he responds, a small blush forming on your cheeks.

“Well I don’t know about all that, I need my own personal locksmith on call at all times. You can’t abandon me in my time of need!”

“Wouldn’t ever dream of it,” Nico places his hand over his chest, feigning offense. You glance over his shoulder, eyeing the bar, thinking about the vodka cranberry that’s calling your name. He turns and follows your eyes. “Did you want to go get something to drink-“

“Neeks!! What’s up man! We missed you today!” Jack cuts Nico off as he turns around, sticking a hand out in-between himself and his captain. “The kids were asking where you were, you totally have to come with us next time!”

“Yeah, man. Next time, for sure. Just needed a rest day, y’know?” Nico responds, slapping Jack’s outstretched hand.

The two begin their own conversation about the charity skate while you stand in the background. You know Jack isn’t ignoring you on purpose, but you’re getting a little tired of just standing around, deciding that you need that drink sooner than later to loosen yourself up a bit and prepare yourself for the endless stream of socializing you know is about to come your way.

“Hey, J, I’m gonna get a drink, okay? I’ll be right back,” you interrupt the conversation, knowing Jack would be worried if he looked up and you were nowhere to be found.

“Oh shit, Y/N I’m so sorry, I totally forgot to introduce you to everyone. Neeks, this is Y/N, Y/N, Nico.”

“Yeah, we met earlier. When you decided to lock the door on your way out this morning and Nico seems to be the only person with a spare key to the place,” you deadpan, watching a confused look glaze over Jack’s features.

“I left the door unlocked, I swear! I even double checked as I was leaving, because Lu-“ Jack suddenly pauses. “Luke must have locked it when he went to grab his beanie he forgot. I’m so sorry, Bouy,” Jack apologizes, letting the nickname he gave you when you were kids slip out of his mouth.

“Bouy?” you hear Nico’s confusion, looking between the two of you, clearly confused.

“We’re not even going there right now, just a stupid nickname from one summer as a kid, not even important. What is important is that I get a drink, ASAP,” you say, once again trying to make your way to the bar.

You walk away from the two men, sights set on an empty spot near the end of the bar. Admittedly, getting a drink seemed way easier in theory than in execution, because no matter how hard you tried, you cannot get the attention of the bartender. You’ve tried waving, yelling, and following her as she makes her way down the line of patrons, but to no avail. You give up with a huff, turning around and leaning your back against the bar, trying to brainstorm how to get a drink in your hand sooner rather than later. “What if I just go take someone’s drink, what would they do then?” you speak aloud to no one other than yourself.

“I would advise against that. Who knows what concoctions some of these people are drinking.”

You whip your head around to find no other than Nico himself standing to your left. You begin to think him sneaking up on people is a habit of his, seeing as this is the second time he’s both surprised you and caught you talking to yourself today.

“You’ve got to stop sneaking up on me, Jesus.”

“Sorry. You just seemed so lost in that head of yours. I’d ask you what you’re thinking, but I’ve learned if I stand here long enough you’ll just say it out loud,” Nico jabs, amusement once again present in his brown eyes. It seems that’s a common occurrence whenever you’re in his presence.

“If you think I speak my mind now, just wait until I actually get a few drinks in me. You’ll be begging me to shut up,” you joke, turning slightly to see if the bartender is anywhere near your area.

“How about we test the theory. Need help?” he asks, challenging your words.

“I mean, be my guest, but I’ve been trying for what seems like forever,” you grumble, moving over slightly to make room for him at the bar.

You watch him stick his hand out, the bartender almost immediately looking over and nodding, signaling she’ll be right over. Your jaw drops. You were a little pissed, honestly. How in the hell did he just do that? You turn your head to look at him, eyes narrowed.

“How in the hell did you just do that?” your mouth mirrors your thoughts.

“Oh y’know, I have my ways,” he says, eyes twinkling, smirk on his lips.

“No, I demand to know. There’s no way I’ve been standing up here for the better part of fifteen minutes with not even a glance in my direction, yet all you have to do is stick your hand out two inches from your face and suddenly you’re next in line,” you spit out, your tone showing your frustration at the situation.

Nico opens his mouth to respond, but a voice from the other side of the bar sounds before he can get a word out.

“Hey, Neeks, what can I get for ya? Your usual?” the woman serving drinks asks, using the same nickname Jack calls Nico.

“Nah, just a Michelob for me tonight. Got morning skate tomorrow,” he tells her, seeming familiar with the woman. She turns to you, giving you the opportunity to really look at the girl. She was short, but not shorter than yourself. She had platinum blonde hair that was tied back into a high ponytail, a pen stuck right through the middle of it. She was wearing a bright green cropped tank top with black leggings. Her make-up was the perfect combination of natural, yet bold. She was….really fucking pretty. Like, intimidatingly pretty. The kind of girl that would make even the most confident of women feel slightly insecure, to no fault of her own.

“Is that all or…?” she trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“Can I just get a vodka cranberry? Double?” you asked, suddenly regretting your decision to not even wear make-up tonight.

You hear her scoff through a “Of course, coming right up,” before looking at Nico once again, then hurrying off to grab Nico’s beer and your cocktail.

“Is there something wrong with a vodka cran up here? Why the attitude?” you spit out, annoyed that she clearly found an issue with your choice of drink.

“You just have to ignore Jess, she’s a bit of an alcohol snob. Thinks everyone should drink top shelf or not even bother drinking at all,” Nico gives you the girl’s name.

You were going to respond to the fact that the two are on a first name basis, but your drinks arrived before you had the chance. You looked up to thank the girl, Jess as you now know, but shut your mouth when you saw the exchange happening before you.

“Just add it to my tab, Jess. Both of them,” Nico tells her, grabbing the bottle of Michelob sitting in front of him.

“Sure thing, Neeks. If you need anything else just give me a shout. You know where to find me,” Jess lets her hand linger, briefly brushing against Nico’s. You look up to her face, seeing the sultry look in her eyes, her chin slightly dropped. She’s looking at Nico like he’s a meal and she hasn’t eaten in days. Glancing over at the man standing next to you, you notice his entire face is flushed red, up to the tips of his ears.

Your brows shoot up in both surprise and understanding. These two have slept together! Her actions a dead giveaway, albeit subtle. Girls recognize girls, you know? It surely explains why he was so quick to get her attention when you couldn’t even get so much as a glance. You’re fighting against every single muscle in your face to not break out into laughter, finding this amusing for some reason.

“Yeah, gotcha. Thanks, Jess,” Nico replies to the girl, stepping back a few inches from the bar.

You turn and follow him in the direction of the tables from earlier, trying your hardest to not get lost in the crowd of bodies you’re having to weave through.

“So, you didn’t tell me that all I had to do to get the bartender’s attention was sleep with her,” you said, stopping Nico in his tracks.

He turns to look at you, eyes wide and face red, seeming a little embarrassed. You worry you’ve already stuck your foot in your mouth much too early into the night.

“How did you- What makes you think-“ he fumbles over his words.

“I’m a girl, silly. I know when another girl is giving a man the ‘you gave me one of the best nights of my life and I want to do you again’ eyes. Nothing to be ashamed of, she’s gorgeous,” you interrupt, amused at his embarrassment.

You actually think its kind of sweet he seems embarrassed. You half expected him to meet your comments with a smirk and puff his chest out a bit, proud that he’d scored such a beautiful woman, but he’s not. You’ve met plenty of Jack’s previous teammates over the years, most of them cocky assholes that care about nothing more than who they can sleep with next. Never missing the chance to boast to all of his buddies about the blonde chick he managed to sneak into his room last night.

Nico’s response was the complete opposite of that. He almost recoiled at your words, looking like he wanted to crawl under the nearest table he could find and hide there until the end of the night. It’s a refreshing contrast to what you’re used to. You start to feel a little bad for even bringing it up.

Nico stands still, staring at you like he’d rather be anywhere else at the moment, beer forgotten in his hand. You can see the wheels turning in his head on how he’s going to get out of this situation. “Hey, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. It’s none of my business. I didn’t mean anything by it, I’m just used to Jack’s other friends that never shut up about who they sleep with. My filter has a few holes in it I need to patch up I guess. I haven’t even had a drink and I’m already sticking my foot in my mouth-“

“I haven’t slept with her.”

Your mouth snaps shut mid-sentence. You stare at the man in front of you, noticing how he keeps fidgeting, clearly uncomfortable. He keeps shifting his weight from foot to foot, switching his beer from left to right to run whichever hand is free through his hair. His eyes keep darting anywhere but your face, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

“Well if you haven’t then she sure wants to,” you try to backtrack a bit, hoping you can humor your way out of the mess you walked yourself into.

“Yeah, I’m sure she does. Just like she wants to sleep with the rest of the team,” he scoffs out. “Don’t get me wrong, Jess is nice and all, but she hits on all of us. It’s worked on a few of the guys. I’ve seen her drop a few of them off at practice in the mornings, but she never lets it go farther than that. Some of the guys prefer…arrangements like that, but it’s not really my style,” Nico replies, shocking you with his sudden honesty.

“I find it hard to believe that beautiful blondes aren’t your type, but I’ll let it slide for now,” you narrow your eyes, not sure how else to respond to his unexpected candor.

“It seems that my type is talkative strangers, but I’ll let you know if it changes,” Nico tells you with a smirk, his shift in personality giving you whiplash as he walks off without another word.

———————————————————————————

“So, where exactly are you from, Y/N?” you get asked for the fourth time in about 5 minutes from the man sitting to your right. You can’t exactly remember his name, only that he’s drank about 4 beers in the time you’ve been sitting here. Considering Jack went down the line and literally rapid fired names at you once you returned to the tables, you forgive yourself for not remembering.

“Dawson, she already told you three times, dude. She’s from Tennessee!” the man to your left shouts across you a little too loudly. You flinch a bit at just how loud these guys can be, having been shuffled around from conversation to conversation for the past hour, each man reaching a volume you didn’t know was humanly possible.

Jack will come by whatever table you’re currently at about every 30 minutes and tug you in whatever direction he sees fit, going on and on about how you just HAVE to meet so and so because they’ll love you. You love that he’s trying to include you and integrate you into the group dynamic the team has going on, but you really wish he would just let you mingle on your own.

His teammates have been nothing but welcoming and kind, but most of them are more than a few drinks deep and have been talking about whatever upcoming game they have and what strategies they need to improve on, leaving you left out and unable to add anything to the conversation.

“Virginia, actually. But close! I lived right on the border of Tennessee and Virginia, so it’s almost like I’m from both,” you shout back, explaining your origin…again.

“Wait, Virginia and Tennessee border each other?” Mr. four beers questions, Dawson you’ve just learned.

“Mercer you idiot, of course they border each other. Have you ever even looked at a fucking map?” the man to your left responds, reaching behind you and slapping Dawson on the back of the head.

“Ow! I’m from Canada, Johnny! How am I supposed to know? Do you know what Canadian states border one another?” Dawson fires back at the man to your left, Johnny.

“Provinces.”

“What?”

“Canada has provinces, not states, Dawson,” Johnny says, a blank look on his face as he stares at Dawson.

“Fuck you. And your Harvard degree,” Dawson crosses his arms and puffs up like a kid. It’s amusing really, watching the two bicker like siblings.

As the two continue to go back and forth, you can’t help but let your eyes wander around the bar, searching for a pair of brown ones. You haven’t spoken to Nico since he walked away from you earlier, after he all but told you that you were his type. His words took you by surprise, having only known the man for a few hours. You can’t lie and say you didn’t find him attractive from the moment you saw him standing in his doorway this morning, but you can’t let yourself go there, can you? You’ve been in the city less than twenty-four hours. You haven’t even fully unpacked all of your clothes yet, and here you are, unable to get your best friend’s captain off of your mind.

Just as you try to shake the thoughts running through your head, a pair of eyes find yours, causing you to sit up a little straighter. He’s standing at a table with Jack and a man that you remember to be named Timo. He’s Swiss, too, you learned when Jack introduced the two of you. He told you that he and Nico played together before they both found themselves with the Devils, the pair having hockey history.

Nico glances away, only briefly, before finding your eyes again, noticing the two men arguing on either side of you. He raises his eyebrow, as if asking you if you need help, but you just shrug and give a little half smile, rolling your eyes as if to say ‘boys, right?’. He lets out a chuckle, his shoulders shaking slightly. You see him exchange a few words with Jack and Timo before stepping away from the table, walking in the direction of the table you’re sitting at.

Just as Nico is only a few steps away, you feel your phone buzzing from where its laying on your thigh. You look at the screen, your mother’s name flashing across the screen. Realizing you hadn’t called her since your plane landed earlier in the day, you decide you should probably take the call.

“Sorry, guys, I gotta take this call,” you slide out from in-between the two hockey players, still arguing away. They don’t even notice your departure, too lost in discussing geography.

You look over to see Nico stop in his tracks, a confused look on his face. You hold up your phone and point to the screen, mouthing the word ‘mom’ before walking over to a secluded corner of the bar for some quiet.

“Hey, mom. Sorry I forgot to call earlier. It’s been a long day,” you sigh, leaning against the cool brick wall.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I just wanted to see how you were settling in. See how the boys were,” she pauses. “Where are you? What’s all that noise in the background?” she questions, slight concern in her voice.

“You know Jack, he wanted to come out and ‘celebrate’ the fact that I live in Jersey now. Tried to get out of it, but Jack never misses a chance to go out. Still have a ton of unpacking to do. I hope to have it all done before too long, though.”

“I should’ve known Jack would be ready to party as soon as you got there. You were always his favorite tag along,” she chuckles, referencing all the time Jack would drag you to various outings and events during the summer.

“Yeah, well this tag along is ready to make her way to her bed for the night, but I have to drive Jack home, so I’ll probably still be here awhile.”

“Honey just tell him you’re ready to go home. I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Nah, I can wait it out a little bit longer. He’s too busy introducing me to everyone. He was so excited for me to meet his teammates,” you quickly glance towards where Jack stands. “You’d think I was some local celebrity or something the way he’s been shuffling me from table to table for meet and greets,” you laugh into the phone.

“He’s just happy to have you around again, sweetheart. I know how much you missed him, I’m sure he missed you just as much. He’s just trying to make sure you’re included.”

“I know, I know. It’s sweet, really, I just wish he would’ve let me have a few days before throwing me into a group of drunk hockey players, as usual,” you tell your mom, trying not to sound ungrateful. You do appreciate how eager Jack is to have all his friends meet you, but you’re growing sleepier by the minute.

“Welcome to life with Rowdy…again,” your mom laughs, using Jack’s childhood nickname.

“At least it’s sure to be an interesting one,” you reply, causing her laugh to grow. “Alright, momma, I better go before Jack comes looking for me. I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? I love you,” you say, looking over towards Jack’s table, watching him look around, likely noticing your absence.

“Alright, honey. I love you!” she says, hanging up the phone.

You lean your head back against the wall, closing your eyes for a second and taking a deep breath before returning to the chaos of bodies across the room.

“Did Dawson and Johnny really make that bad of a first impression that you’re hiding in a dark corner?”

Yet again, you jump at the voice that seems to be following you around today. You raise your head up and open your eyes, Nico standing a few feet away from you. You simply close your eyes once again and lay your head back against the wall once more, needing another minute to collect yourself.

“You know, I think I’m going to buy you some of those shoes with squeakers in them, that way I can always know when you’re coming,” you tell him, enjoying the feeling of the cool concrete against your head.

All you hear in response is a laugh, which has you raising your head to look at Nico again. You admire the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, already thinking about how you can coax the sound out of him again.

“Where’s the fun in that now…Bouy, was it?” he recalls your nickname from earlier, earning a glare from you.

“Don’t you even start,” you warn.

“You’re really not going to tell me why Jack called you that? I’ve been trying to get the story out of him for the past two hours. He won’t budge, saying only you can tell it.”

“Trust me, it’s not even worth your time. I don’t even understand why the nickname stuck. They’re all stupid, the lot of them,” you shut down the request.

“Don’t worry, I’ll pry it out of you one day. I’ll solve the Bouy mystery eventually,” Nico persists, not letting the subject drop that easily.

You remove yourself from the wall, sliding your phone into your back pocket. You run your hand through your hair with a huff, preparing yourself to join the others once again.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. My mom called, so I figured I’d better take it. A little tired, but I’m all good. Just hope Jack tires out sooner rather than later,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I can give him a ride home if you want to leave? I don’t mind, really. Not like it’s exactly out of the way,” Nico offers.

“No, I should stay. He was really excited for me to meet everyone tonight so I feel like I should at least stay a little bit longer. I don’t want to bail on him this soon.”

“Trust me, if it was up to Jack he wouldn’t leave until they kicked him out,” Nico states, nothing but seriousness in his tone.

“Well, we don’t call him Rowdy for nothing,” you joke. “Speaking of, we’ve been spotted,” you notice Jack making his way over to where the two of you stand.

“Hey, everything alright? I couldn’t find you and Timo said he saw you come over here awhile ago, then said he saw Nico come over here too. You okay?” Jack says as he approaches, glancing towards Nico before looking at you, concern in his tone and on his face.

“No, yeah, I’m fine. Mom called and I came over here so I could hear her better, then Nico came to check on me. We were about to come join everyone again, I was just enjoying the quiet for another minute,” you tell Jack, watching the worry fall from his face.

“Oh tell momma Y/L/N that her favorite surrogate son misses her,” Jack brightens at the mention of your mom, both of you viewing the other’s parents as a second set, just as close to them as you were your own.

“I will when she calls tomorrow,” you chuckle, knowing your mom will get a kick out of this conversation.

“I actually came over here to see if you were ready to go? We have morning skate tomorrow and Luke just texted me asking when we were coming home, which usually means he’s lonely and feeling left out, so we should probably get going,” Jack says, surprising you by granting your earlier wishes.

“Oh my god yes, please. I’m so tired,” you sigh, letting your shoulders slump, relieved that you’re only a few minutes away from climbing in your bed.

“I thought so, you looked like you were having a grand time with Dawson and Johnny,” Jack laughs, recalling your earlier position between the two geography enthusiasts.

“They were literally yelling at each other about the geography of the U.S. and Canada,” you told the two men standing with you, both of them breaking out into laughter.

“That’s nothing. Once they argued for a full two hours on if pterodactyl was spelled with a p or not,” Nico adds in, having been silent until now, causing you to be the one filled with laughter.

Jack looks over, seeming to just now remember Nico was also standing with the two of you.

“You need a ride home, cap?” Jack offers, looking over at you with suspicious eyes before looking back at Nico.

“Nah, I’ve only had two beers. I’m good to drive. Plus, I should probably make sure Dawson gets home and in bed. He’s going to regret all those tequila shots when we have to be on the ice at eight tomorrow morning.”

“Exactly why I’m tapping out now. Be careful, Neeks. See you at practice,” Jack tells his captain before turning to you. “You ready to blow this popsicle stand?”

“Like it’s a hot summer day.”

Jack smiles, the phrase becoming a trademark of yours over the years. You don’t even remember what started it, just that it’s become the signature end to many nights of fun for the two of you. He turns to walk away and you go to follow him before you realized you didn’t say goodbye to Nico. Not wanting to feel rude, you turn around to say your goodbyes to the captain.

“Goodnight, Nico. Have a good practice tomorrow.”

“Thanks. Goodnight, Bouy,” he responds, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face.

Fuck you, Jack Hughes.

#nhl oneshot #nhl blurb #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #new jersey devils #hockey imagine #hockey #jack hughes #luke hughes

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hivemuthur · 1 month ago

Note

Can u request something with modern au with viktor where there’s an established relationship between reader and him and readers an artist? You can write whatever you want whether it’s dating hcs , fluff, nsfw !!

Dear Anon, I took the liberty and added a small, but significant detail to this request - the Reader is visually impaired. It is not implied why, as it wasn't relevant to the one shot, but you can imagine their vision to be compromised to the point of having to use a walking cane and being able to only recognize shapes/shadows. The picture for it is Hephaestus, as he is the godly representation of Viktor for me, just read about him. Having said that, here is: Hand of the Beholder

viktorxgn!reader mature! some suggestive content, Reader has a sight disability, Viktor is their muse :') A small fic, in which Viktor discovers that softness feels nice.

edit/author's note: I treat Elliott as a gn name in general (I might be wrong, but well). And Bono the dog's name - it's a reference to a pin Sinead O'Connor was wearing during one of her interviews after she had met Bono. It said Bono in short legs shock! and I think it's hilarious :)

word count: 3,3K

—

A loud thump, followed by the clatter of something wooden on the pavement. Then, “Are you blind?”—a voice exclaimed with utter irritation, one very familiar to you—followed by a gasp. You always loved that part.

“Partially. Getting there,” you replied, flashing a sweet smile in the direction of the voice. Kill them with kindness—that was the usual strategy.

What was odd was that the voice—and the vague shape you assumed was its owner—didn’t move from the spot where your clumsy dog had knocked them. Either you’d made an astonishing first impression, or they were too stunned to move.

“Forgive me, I—I am usually less… rude.”

“That’s alright, no need to beg for forgiveness on your knees,” you said, offering a more genuine smile. “I’m sorry about Bono; he’s a bit awkward in crowds.”

“This is embarrassing, but I might need your help getting up,” the voice admitted, followed by an awkward chuckle.

Once he accepted your hand and scrambled to his feet, he kept hold of your palm just long enough to give it a quick shake. “Thank you. I’m Viktor.”

You almost introduced yourself when your friend Elliott emerged from whatever pound shop she had left you in front of. “Oh God, this dog! He’s going to get you killed one day,” she huffed, grabbing the leash from your hand.

“Bono. So… are you a U2 fan?” Viktor asked. Smooth, Viktor. Very smooth. He felt his face twist in cringe but decided to own it, smoothing his clothes with his hands to distract himself.

“Ah, definitely not. But I’ve been told he has short legs, so there it is,” you replied with a chuckle, crouching to give Bono a pet and a treat. The dog licked your face in return, and you groaned in mock offense.

“Alright, is everyone fine? Can we get moving?” Elliott pressed, clearly eager to move on. Her ‘just a second’ stop had already turned into twenty minutes of snooping through junk.

Viktor, utterly confused, felt words pushing their way out of his mouth before he could stop them. “Or, I could buy you a coffee? For the inconvenience? If… you’re not busy?” His voice rose slightly with each question, and again, he decided to own it by gulping down on this weird lump in his mouth and producing a smile.

“I feel like I should be the one buying you a coffee, Viktor. But yes, sure,” you replied casually, though truthfully, you just wanted to hear that warm, accented voice for a little longer.

Later, at the café, Viktor found himself absolutely baffled by your bluntness and the merciless jokes you’d thrown in his direction. He wondered where the hell his sass had gone. His legs were continuously bumped by Bono, who had clearly taken a liking to him and wouldn’t stop drooling onto his lap. When Viktor tried to joke about service dogs, usually more collected, he learned that Bono was, in fact, just a dog, and his only service was being a good boy.

Everything about this was so surreal and unlikely that his curious mind wouldn’t let him not ask you out again.

And this was how you met, two years ago, give or take. Two three-legged creatures connected by another, four-legged one, whose short legs seemed to give him matchmaking superpowers.

What had been the strangest feeling in the world for Viktor was being seen in a way he had never been seen before. Without a single question about his looks, without prying touches or purposeful exploration, you had managed to put together all the pieces that made him who he was. And suddenly, his cane didn’t matter, the way others looked at him didn’t matter. What mattered was the warmth of his hands, the tone of his voice, the feeling of soft jumpers, and his mind—the most brilliant thing you’d ever had the pleasure to explore.

And Bono got so many treats for it, his legs seemed even shorter as he grew fatter.

Which is why Viktor agreed to do something that, ordinarily, he would nervously laugh off before fleeing the country. His wobbly legs carried him to the sculpture workshop, late enough for it to be private and unoccupied.

Seeing you setting up the materials around an inconspicuous clay figure, he walked up to you from behind and draped himself over your back, his arms cradling your shoulders, palms connected at your sternum. You could feel his heart thundering against your spine and asked, “Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he murmured, pressing his nose into the crook of your neck. “Is this me?”

“Not yet, for now it’s a dummy. Though, the frame was constructed to depict your figure,” you said quietly, placing your palm over his hands, your head leaning back to place a kiss on his temple. You could feel his scent filling your nose—clothes that are just clean and a faint smell of shampoo lingering in his hair.

“Is it empty inside?” he asked, and you only nodded, brushing your nose against his cheek.

“Hmm, philosophically ironic, don’t you think?”

“Love, if I were to sculpt your liver, I doubt this experiment would prove useful,” you chuckled, hearing Viktor let out a bemused huff. “Besides, it would be very heavy.”

“Pity. I’m sure my liver is magnificent,” Viktor tried to deflect, but his breath betrayed him. The room was unbelievably warm, and he could feel his hands starting to sweat.

“And where do you want me?”

“Right beside me. We’ll do a lying pose, with your hands on your chest. I’ll show you, roughly,” you said, your own nervousness beginning to grow as you realised this was probably far more intimate than anything you’d experienced together before. Suddenly, all the sex you’d had in strange places didn’t seem so insane.

After a short presentation and a couple of awkward chuckles, Viktor splayed himself on the couch beside you, while you sat down by the worktable. You needed to mark the key points of his body to keep the proportions intact, so the first obvious choice was his face.

You placed your hand on his cheek, and he hummed softly, relaxing into your touch. Your fingers traced the structure of his bones, his nose, eyelids, the curve of his mouth, assessing the distance between them with one hand and marking them on the dummy with the other. You couldn’t help yourself and exclaimed, “Oh Viktor, you are so beautiful! All this time and I had no idea.”

Viktor let out an uninhibited cackle and playfully bit your fingers. “There it is—superficial vanity. And here I was, hoping someone would finally love me for more than my looks,” he said in mock offence, making you bite your lower lip to stifle a laugh.

“Of course I do. But at least now I can say things like, ‘Thank God you’re pretty,’” you grinned at him mercilessly, and he laughed again. When the laughter faded into a comfortable silence, you took a deep breath and made sure once more. “Are you absolutely confident you’re up for this?”

“Positive,” he said firmly. “Should I—?” The unfinished question was answered by his hand landing on his shirt, pinching it expectantly—a force of habit stronger when his nerves showed.

“Just the torso for now. It’ll take a couple of sessions, I think. And after that, who knows? Maybe you’ll abandon me and become a world-famous model,” you mused, attempting to hide your own anxiety.

Viktor only huffed in response and obediently slid his shirt off. Taking your palm, he placed it flat against his chest. “For some reason, I feel very close to a heart attack, but I have a feeling you do too,” he said gently, the brave honesty in his voice completely disarming you.

You exhaled softly, leaning in to kiss him on the lips—a lingering, delicate gesture meant to reassure rather than ignite. “Thank you,” you murmured against his mouth, your voice warm and sincere. “Remember, we can stop at any moment. Just say the word.”

Viktor nodded, though words seemed to escape him now. His eyes followed your every move as you shifted closer, warming your palms by rubbing them against each other. You began your work, one hand ghosting over the sharp line of his jaw, the other placed on the dummy to mirror his shape.

Your touch was deliberate, slow, and almost reverent. Your fingers started at the hinge of his jaw, ghosting over the texture of his skin. Most of it was smooth, with the tiniest bit of grain, like a piece of glass worked by the sea over the years. You paused, mapping the angle where his jaw met his neck—the hardness of bone giving way to the flexible tendon beneath. You tapped on it delicately to test the bounce of his muscle—here his skin was silky, and firm and you could smell the faint scent of cream he applied after shaving. You gave it one more lingering touch, before moving to the earlobe, tracing it with your thumb, your fingers brushing against his hairline. Viktor let out a breathy exhale, and you smiled under your nose.

“Enjoying yourself?”

“Mmm, you have no idea,” he hummed, placing his palm over yours instinctively. His hands were warm, and you could feel the heat radiating off his cheek onto your wrist.

You slid your hand toward the hollow beneath his cheekbone, pausing on the beauty mark under his eye to mark it on the dummy. It had a faint rise over the rest of his face, and you did your best to depict it’s shape. You could feel his cheek rising in a smile.

Moving to the slight curve of his lips, your fingertips lingered there for a moment longer than necessary. You pressed on the plushness of his mouth and felt Viktor leaning into your touch, his hot breath fanning your skin. Your finger trembled, when you found the tiny bump crowning his upper lip and Viktor pouted slightly, as if leaving a peck against your skin.

“Your bone structure is ridiculous,” you murmured absently, your voice hushed as though you were speaking to yourself, your fingers still pressed where they were.

Viktor’s throat worked as he swallowed, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm he was no longer in control of. “Ridiculous good or ridiculous bad?” he asked, his tone half-teasing, though the rasp in his voice betrayed how affected he was. You could feel the movement of his lips under your hand and a hot breath coming out, warming you up.

“Ridiculous perfect,” you replied simply, fighting your brain to focus on the clay in your right hand rather than on Viktor’s soft mouth under the mercy of your left.

You took a steadying breath and worked your way up to his brow, your thumb grazing the bushy ridge, your palm cradling the side of his face as you turned it slightly to study the other angle. You could make out the first wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, and the more prominent ones of his forehead, reinforced regularly by a thoughtful frown he wore so often.

His skin warmed under your touch, the heat blooming wherever your fingers roamed. Your other hand shaped the first layers of the structure of Viktor’s face in clay, its coolness a stark contrast to what your left one was going through.

As your hand slipped down to trace the lean column of his neck, Viktor couldn’t help the quiet exhale that escaped him. The feel of your fingers—gentle but firm, your nails just barely skimming over sensitive skin—caused him to tense up in places he didn’t expect himself to, not in this context. Your thumb and index finger examined his Adam’s apple, and it slipped away from your touch as he swallowed and chuckled awkwardly. The pulse in his neck quickened under your hand, and you paused for a moment, your lips curving in a soft, knowing smile.

“You’re doing great,” you whispered, your voice soothing, though you couldn’t help the subtle tone of praise he had granted you so many times when his hands travelled across your body with equal care. “Just breathe.”

“I am,” Viktor replied, his breath there, yet hitching as you moved to his collarbone, the tips of your fingers brushing the hollow above it before trailing the length of the bone. His skin prickled under your touch, and he found himself sinking further into the couch, his limbs loosening as if you had found a secret way to unlock him.

You kept working, holding on to your focus, but Viktor couldn’t take his eyes off you. The way your hands moved—deliberate, confident, as though you were committing every inch of him to memory—was so utterly erotic, so private. The soft furrow of concentration in your brow, the way your lips parted slightly as you worked, the occasional tilt of your head as you checked your progress against the clay—all of it was unbearably intimate, the dummy becoming a labour of love under your steady hand.

His own reaction caught him off guard. His breathing grew heavier, less controlled, his chest rising and falling with a rhythm he couldn’t mask. A flush crept up his neck, and he wondered if this was what you felt like when he had you pinned to the mattress.

You paused, brushing your thumb against the side of his throat. “You’re warm,” you remarked softly, tilting your head toward him. “Is this too much?”

Viktor smiled stupidly to himself, though his voice was low and rough. “Not at all. Just—unexpected.”

You chuckled lightly, your breath skimming his cheek as you leaned closer to reach the other side of his neck. “Unexpected— good or bad?” you asked, echoing his earlier words.

“Unexpected perfect,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours and craning his neck to kiss your jaw. It was utterly disarming—what it felt like to be touched for the sole purpose of being memorised.

You smiled to yourself as your hand moved lower, homing in on the flow of Viktor’s form. The tips of your fingers trailed down his chest, pausing to trace the curve of his clavicle before brushing over the flat planes of his sternum. You gave it a firm press, mechanically forcing out the breath Viktor had been holding. You could feel his heart thundering under your fingers, and it made you lick your lips. Here, his skin was thinner, more flexible, with a speckle of tiny bumps you knew to be his freckles.

Viktor exhaled under the pressure of your palm, and you could hear him chuckle nervously. A soft smile tugged at your lips as you allowed your hand to ghost over the defined ridges of his ribs, your fingers tracing just enough to make him shiver under the tickle. The motion was slow, deliberate, your palm spreading over the warmth of his chest as though mapping the heartbeat beneath.

“You’re tense,” you murmured, your eyebrows arching, cheeks rising in an involuntary smirk.

“I wonder why,” he replied, his voice softer now, laced with dry humour and vulnerability he judged was not worth hiding anymore. He felt himself slowly being disassembled to parts, the tiniest fractions of his being, each held to the light in the safety of your hands.

His cheeks were burning and his forehead dampening as you took your time, letting your hand move lower to the flat plane of his stomach. His muscles tensed instinctively, his tummy sucking in as if too shy to be touched, his body responding before his mind could catch up.

“Relax,” you coaxed, your voice as gentle as your touch, and he let out a quiet, shaky exhale as if obeying your command.

The curve of your fingers moved over his stomach to the sides, giving him a firm squeeze to follow your words. His breath steadied only for a moment before you slid your palm flat on the V-line of his underbelly, tracing the trail of hair disappearing under his trousers. Viktor let out a breathy moan, his spine flexing into your touch as he murmured an embarrassed, “Sorry,” the sound catching in his throat. His hands gripped the edge of the couch, his knuckles pale as he worked to steady himself. “I don’t believe I’ve been this flustered in years,” he laughed breathlessly.

“I shall make a mental note of that,” you whispered with a smile, and you could hear him chuckle again.

Your fingers continued their roam, brushing along the sharp lines of his hips, where the bone protruded just enough to catch the light. The fabric of his trousers shifted slightly under your fingertips, and Viktor shifted with it, a quiet gasp leaving him before he bit down on his lower lip.

The warmth beneath your hand grew, heat radiating from him in waves. His chest rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm, and his eyes—half-lidded and hazy—watched your every movement as if he couldn’t look away.

“You’re quite sensitive, you know,” you teased softly, the curve of a grin in your voice. You could feel the dummy slowly giving in, moulding into the shape of Viktor, his curves and sharp angles, as you mirrored each of your movements.

“Sensitive, am I?” he rasped, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness. It was warm, pliant, as if every word came from somewhere deeper than his throat.

Your fingers brushed the ridge of his hipbone, and Viktor’s breath faltered again, his hands twitching as though he wasn’t sure whether to still them or reach for you. “You’re certainly proving it,” you replied, your voice low, tenderly teasing.

Viktor swallowed thickly, his head tilting back against the couch with a soft thud. “I think I need you to kiss me,” he murmured, his accent thickening as his restraint faltered further.

You chuckled quietly, withdrawing your hand but letting it rest lightly against his side. “Hmm. Do I have your consent?”

He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “W-what? I just asked you.”

“Well, I’d rather make sure. I am no Picasso. This was supposed to be professional; I will remind you,” you said, your feigned seriousness accentuated by taps of your finger against his belly.

Viktor’s eyes darkened slightly at that, his gaze dropping to your lips as he said in a pained voice, “Please don’t tell me you would touch anyone else like this, because I will lose my mind.”

You leaned back, your hands stilling for the first time. “I would never,” you whispered. You pulled out your clean hand to caress his cheek, but his arms were faster as he yanked you into a hungry kiss, smearing some of the cold clay on his chest.

Still holding you close, Viktor let out a soft laugh, running his fingers through his hair as if to ground himself. “I think I would be a terrible model,” he joked, though his voice carried the faint tremor of someone not quite recovered.

“I think you did wonderfully. And I’ve learned a thing or two,” you hummed, your lips finding his nose to place a peck on it. Which reminded you, “Oh. I forgot to trace your nose.”

“Shall I book an extra session for that?” He teased, his tone coming back to himself as his hands slid up and down your back.

“Definitely. Though I think this particular session we should move home. I am feeling very inspired.”

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sunshinescribes · 1 year ago

Text

The House Always Wins

Part 2 of this fic

Pairing: Sir Crocodile x Fem!Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT (18+)

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Jealousy, Rough Sex, Cunnilingus, (lowkey) Sugar Daddy Crocodile, Crocodile is smug and petty

(edit: realized the original artwork was fanart and I couldn't find the artist's @ to credit them, so I changed it)

Crocodile doesn’t know what to expect when he wanders onto the casino floor of Rain Dinners in search of you. Slot machines chime, playing a catchy little tune with each pull of the lever. Dealers grin and offer words of encouragement, coaxing big-eyed fools into another game with the sweet promise of lady luck’s favor.

You don’t usually partake in gambling, not keen on the idea of betting away your berries when you know it’s all rigged—and why would you even need to? You never ask for anything, but Crocodile provides. Spoils you even.

He enjoys watching the way your eyes get all big, stunned by the diamond necklace he places around your neck, or the soft gasp that passes your lips when he gifts silk charmeuse and chiffon dresses, designed, and tailored just for you.

Crocodile continues to seek you out, his sharp eyes flitting between the slot machines and card tables. He ignores the curious and lingering looks targeted at him—the smartly dressed patrons who vie for his attention as he continues to search—and then he hears it.

Your laugh, loud and beautiful—music to his fucking ears. He turns.

Crocodile doesn’t expect to see you at the bar, perched on a stool, leaning into a man he doesn’t recognize. Your hand is on his slender arm, your lips pulled into a pretty smile, and laughter escapes again—so lovely and genuine and for someone else.

The man grins at you sheepishly, transfixed on your mouth. It’s so blatant—barely contained, the way he’s staring at you with a mix of adoration and lust.

You must feel Crocodile’s eyes on you because you glance over your shoulder suddenly. Your smile widens, and you exchange a quick word with the mysterious man before hopping down from your seat.

Crocodile is silent as you approach, stone-faced. You grab his arm with both hands and tilt your head towards the man, all while smiling up at him.

“I want you to meet my friend,” you say excitedly, steering him towards the bar.

Crocodile doesn’t catch the name that rolls off your tongue—he can’t seem to hear anything over the sudden ringing in his ears, so sharp it drowns out the sounds of the jingling slot machines and triumphant cheers of those foolish enough to think they’re the winners.

The fond smile that plays on the mystery man’s lip never falls, but Crocodile notices the sudden unease as the man’s eyes land on him. The imposing height, the cold, almost irritated expression he comfortably wears—the golden hook that glints under the blinding casino lights. It’s enough to strike fear in the heart of anyone smart enough to value their life.

And the man is a small thing—average in every sense of the word, Crocodile thinks. The plain clothes, the nervous, uncertain words that stumble from his mouth as he tries to introduce himself. Crocodile doesn’t feign interest—he barely even acknowledges your friend, and that only serves to add to his anxiety.

If it wasn’t for the pitiful look you shoot him, Crocodile would laugh at just how pathetic this man is.

“We both grew up in Coombe,” you explain, glancing back at the mystery man. “I never thought you’d leave the North Blue.”

He must take your surprise as a compliment because he gives you another bashful smile.

“I didn’t either. Guess I finally figured if you could do it, so could I,” he chuckles softly. “Imagine my shock when I saw you here, of all places.”

“Small world,” Crocodile chimes in dryly, drawing your friend’s attention once more.

Crocodile places a hand on your hip, drawing you a little closer to him.“She never mentions much about her home in the North Blue.”

And she never mentioned you. The insult is unspoken, so subtle that he thinks even you don’t catch it.

But it’s also true. You rarely spoke about the North Blue—of the life you had before you entered the Grand Line and ended up in Alabasta. You never mused over an island you once called home, or a lovesick, hairbrained boy you left on it, and Crocodile doesn’t pry. He isn’t particularly interested in knowing, truth be told. He only cares about the life you have now, with him.

The man goes on an excited tirade about how beautiful Coombe is this time of year, about how you used to love the new bloom after winter finally passed, and all the fun you both had in your youth. He can’t help but reminisce, tries to connect with you in the only way he’s able.

“You should visit when you can. Uh—you both should.”

You pretend to consider it, and Crocodile gives little more than an unaffected grunt.

You inquire how long he’ll be staying and recommend shops and restaurants he must visit before leaving. He shamelessly seeks more of your company—your attention—and asks if you could possibly give him a tour.

You promise to check your schedule and follow up, and he beams as if he’s won an invaluable prize. Crocodile’s irritation grows—twists and festers the longer he stands by your side, little more than an onlooker. His frustration isn’t directed at you—you’ve always been friendly, offering a smile where he would surely offer a sneer, but it doesn’t stop his grip from tightening on your hip.

You notice, finally excusing yourself. The man gives you both a soft goodbye, one that Crocodile ignores completely as he whisks you away, and he can’t help the way his lips pull into a smug grin at the quick glimpse of the dejected look on his face. It must hurt him to see you walk away in the arms of another—to know the golden opportunity he thought the world had provided him never existed at all.

“You didn’t like him.”

It’s the first thing you say when you enter Crocodile’s private suite, disappointment dripping in your voice. You weren’t foolish enough to think he would be thrilled, but you thought Crocodile would at least be amicable.

He shrugs his coat off, placing it on the coat hanger near the door. “He was shameless.”

Your brows furrow, your lips pull into a slight frown…You don’t know? It takes Crocodile by surprise; surely you must. The man is far too obvious; his intentions are impossible to mask.

“He would have taken you right there on the bar if you had let him,” Crocodile scoffs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“Gage?”

So that’s his name.

Your voice comes out in a high-pitched squeak, taken aback by the sudden accusation. “He doesn’t want to fuck me.”

Crocodile gives a mirthless laugh. You’re so sweet. So naïve. Always offering others the benefit of the doubt.

Crocodile recognized the hunger in his eyes—the longing. He suspects this friend of yours has harped on you for a long time, never quite brave enough to take the chance.

Not even now. By some miracle, he survived the Grand Line, and he still can’t brave his own futile emotions. Crocodile isn’t sure whether to laugh at how spineless the man is or burn with anger at how he even thinks he has any chance of having you.

The dark, ravenous part of him takes high offense.

Crocodile comes up behind you and dwarfs you with his body as his decorated hand cradles your jaw. “Course he does. Look at you.”

He tilts your head, forces you to face the full-length mirror on the opposite wall. You try to focus on your own reflection, but you can’t help but watch Crocodile when he dips down, pressing a tender kiss to your neck, all while his half-lidded eyes hold your gaze.

“Maybe I should invite him to our room so he can watch me fuck you,” he murmurs against your skin.

You shiver, nearly stumble out of his grasp as his lips trail higher.

“Don’t be cruel...”

Cruel? His offer would be courteous. It would be the closest your lovestruck friend would ever get to your naked form. The only way he would ever know what you sound and look like at the height of your pleasure—how perfect you are, stuffed and babbling through your orgasm.

The cruel thing would be what he truly wants to do—to use his devil fruit powers to turn the man into a withering corpse, forgotten in the endless sand dunes.

“Would you rather he joined?” Crocodile inquiries plainly.

He attempts to come off unaffected…curious, but the wicked voice in the back of his mind nags at him, hisses about feelings that could have been, and still may be.

The man matches your gentle nature, and is somewhat competent, at least to have made it this far from the North Blue. He’s the kind of man who would kneel at your feet if you asked, worship you as if it were his sole purpose—he’d give you a typical life, picturesque in its simplicity, and you would be content.

The thought makes something vicious twist in his gut. It makes time stand still as Crocodile awaits your answer.

“No.” You shake your head softly, meeting his cold eyes in the mirror. “I’ve never thought about him like…that.”

Of course not. What would you want with a sniveling worm? How could you go back to mediocrity after everything that’s been offered to you? The attention of a warlord of the sea—the savior of Alabasta. How could anyone else ever compare?

It’s pathetic how the gluttonous beast inside of Crocodile settles and hums contentedly, knowing that you only want him.

And maybe this is your power he couldn’t recognize before, why he was so unnerved in the beginning—this ability to effortlessly turn sensible men foolish. Even him.

“Only want you.” You turn, your soft eyes trained on him. “Always want you.”

Crocodile captures your lips as the words escape, and you melt into him—mold your body into his until he is all you sense. The heady scent of his sweet cigars mixes with hints of patchouli and cedar—his cologne—it lingers on his fitted clothes, drawing you deeper into his searing kiss.

You feel the bend of his golden hook press into the curve of your back, forcing you to curl into him as he parts your lips with his tongue. You’re caught in a pleasant haze, lightheaded, while Crocodile kisses you like he’s claiming your mouth, making sure that your lips never forget the feel and taste of him—that they never desire another’s.

Crocodile lifts you from the ground effortlessly with his ringed hand, still kissing you hungrily as he shifts blindly through his suite, knowing the layout well enough to stumble into his lavish bedroom. He parts from you with a low groan.

“Lay down,” he orders against your lips, and you comply, sinking into the soft mattress while he looms over you.

The ache you feel in your core blossoms—hurts so good from how desperately you want him—to be wrecked and teary-eyed and a mess for him.

You even go as far as to whine when you notice Crocodile isn’t working to free the fierce erection that strains his dress pants, eager to be lost in your warmth.

“None of that,” Crocodile tuts coyly, lowering to his knees near the foot of the bed. His large hand skims up the length of your thigh, pushing up your dress until it is bunched around your waist, and he can see the evidence of your arousal staining your thin lingerie—another gift.

That creature inside of him purrs gleefully, proud of how well he turns you into a spectacle—a gift of his own to admire and unravel again and again.

Crocodile tugs your panties down your legs, tossing it aside carelessly as his hooded eyes catch on your bare pussy, already slick and ready for him. A deep, guttural noise catches in his throat as you part your legs—eagerly welcome him where he belongs.

“I bet he wonders what you taste like…” Crocodile muses, leaning into your aching slit. A soft gasp passes your lips when you feel the heat of his mouth on your needy cunt, tending to the ache his salacious words and desperate kisses created.

There are rare moments when Crocodile takes you apart slowly, his movements languid and measured, bringing you to the height of your pleasure at an agonizing pace, only to rip it away just when you begin to tip over the edge. And then he continues the process again and again. He leaves you delirious on days like that, wasting the hours away with your body—and perhaps today would be a day such as that if he didn’t feel he had something to prove.

If the desire to plague your every thought didn’t control him like a cruel master.

Your soft whimpers turn to shameless, needy moans, light and airy but loud enough to satisfy the wicked parts of him.

“S’good,” you whine drunkenly, your hips bucking instinctively when Crocodile’s lips latch onto your neglected clit. Your fingers thread into his long hair, pull him even closer, and he groans—it makes you arch painfully as the feel of it cascades through your body and tickles your aching nub.

Each swipe of his talented tongue pushes you closer, making the heat that pools in your stomach metastasize until you’re chanting his name, so close and ready to reward him.

He squeezes your clit with his mouth, sucks your aching bud, and you’re gone—shoved over the edge as pure hot pleasure rips through you, flows from between your legs, and Crocodile laps up your sweetness like a starved man.

You glance down at him through your lashes, eyes heavy, body slowly recovering. Crocodile pulls away from your pretty pussy with a sigh, as if he’s sad to part, and the idea alone makes your core ache with newfound need.

“Always so sweet for me.”

Your release smears his chin. It makes him look depraved and delicious. If you had the energy for it, you’d lift from your spot on the bed and kiss him. Feel the taste of yourself on his tongue, but all you can do is watch him with tired eyes as he rids himself of his clothes, tosses his lavish vest and dress shirt aside haphazardly.

His pants are the last thing to go, and you watched as if caught in a spell, buzzing with anticipation as he palms his hard dick. It’s so pretty, with the tip blushing and spilling precum that glides onto his thick fingers. Crocodile smirks, amused by the enchanted look in your eyes.

“This what you want, darling?” he asks, giving his dick a rough tug that warrants a delighted hiss. You nod—nearly sob—as you continue to watch Crocodile’s hand rub up and down the length of his lovely cock. You feel so empty—the desire to be filled in a way only he’s capable of taking precedence in your mind.

“Tell me,” Crocodile encourages as he shifts to the bed, his large frame casting you in shadows as he hovers over you. That smug smile still plays at his lips and only grows crueler as he grinds his hard length against your needy cunt.

“N-need you. Fuck—need you so—so bad. Baby please—”

The request sounds pathetic, even to your own ears, but it must be exactly what Crocodile wants to hear because he sinks into you the second the term of endearment passes your lips.

A deep grunt rips from his throat and tickles your ear pleasantly as Crocodile drags his fat cock deeper into you. You’re so warm and wet and snug, your velvety walls hugging him like this is where he belongs—where he should always be.

And he’ll admit, there’s no better place than here, between your legs. No better feeling in the whole fucking world—not even the sweet giddiness that builds inside of him each passing day as the fall of the Alabasta Kingdom draws closer. Having you writhing beneath him, breathless and lovely, is incomparable—a sensation he never tires of.

“Always take me so—mmm…well,” Crocodile rasps, transfixed on how your sloppy cunt swallows him over and over and over again. It makes him fuck you harder; drive even deeper. “This pussy was made for me. You were made for me.”

And he thinks perhaps it’s the most honest thing he’s ever said to you. Uncertainty still stirs within him—dread lingers in the corner of his mind, silent and waiting, because you complicate everything. You’re the only person who can placate the ravenous creature within him, feeding its insatiable appetite without it ever growing incurious. It wants everything you have to offer—can’t conceive of feeding from anyone who isn’t you. Not anymore.

Never.

Crocodile pushes your thighs close to your chest, drives his dick even deeper as he continues to pound into you. The sound of his powerful thrusts and your tortured moans is a beautiful symphony, lovelier than the melodic sounds of the stirring sand at dawn.

You have that lost, blissed-out look in your eyes as you blink up at him, words completely evading you as he uses you.

How could your foolish friend ever even dream of having you like this? Think he could possibly do to you what Crocodile has done?

Crocodile feels equally as hopeless as you—is incapable of thinking clearly because a confession he knows he should swallow pours from his lips without warning.

“I’ll fucking kill anyone who tries to take you from me,” he growls, digging the tip of his hook into the mattress, inches away from your head.

You should be…shocked. Unnerved by such a confession. Crocodile doesn’t pretend to be a saint, but he never mutters his murderous intent. He hides behind practiced indifference; let’s others paint a glorious picture of him, never revealing his true nature. You attempt to feign shock for a split second, but you can’t help the way your pussy clenches around him and goes mad at his declaration—some depraved, feral part of you stirring to life.

And the knowledge that a part of you likes this fucked up part of him must awaken something in him, because his thrusts grow brutal, his balls slap against your ass as he fucks you into the mattress like it’s the last time he’ll ever get the chance to. Crocodile hits deeper, the head of his throbbing dick brushing against that sweet, spongey spot inside of you, and you’re gone before you can even warn him.

You choke out something that sounds like it could be his name, tears trickling down your cheeks as you come so violently that your breath stutters. You shake through your orgasm, squirm beneath Crocodile while he fucks you through it—watching you come apart with wicked fascination and unbridled lust.

He loves how he wrecks you—how you hold onto him for dear life, as if he might slip away.

He’s ruined you, just like you’ve ruined him.

The thought alone is the final push he needs, make his dick throb violently as he explodes inside of you and fills you up the way he knows you crave—the way your perfect pussy deserves. The squelch of his seed mixing with your sweetness is enough to drive him mad. Makes him want to fuck another load into you.

Maybe in a bit, he considers as he rocks his hips sluggishly, riding out the sweet aftershock of his powerful orgasm.

You’re little more than a quivering mess under him. Your eyes are closed, your breathing is ragged…so so beautiful, and Crocodile doesn’t frighten at the tender feeling that blossoms in his chest—a sudden warmth that takes him by surprise yet seems to make all the sense in the world as he stares down at you, all while a pleasant thought crosses his twisted mind.

What’s the harm?

Why shouldn’t I revel in what’s mine?

divider credit @/cafekitsune

#sunny.fic #sir crocodile x reader #sir crocodile x y/n #crocodile x reader #crocodile x you #sir crocodile smut #x reader

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w2mini · 8 days ago

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RED MEANS TAKEN DUMMY! atsumu x reader

-happy valentines 𓂃۶ৎ warnings: reader is reserved, swearings, black cat x golden retriever (I'm never getting tired of this trope for atsumu) fluff only

For Atsumu, he's always been drawn to you—the quiet, pretty muse from unfortunately another class who never seemed to fall for his popular charm. And what's worst is that you weren't even doing anything to catch his attention. It was just a random Tuesday when you were introduced as a new student in Inarizaki, then went on with your day as a normal student like everyone would—and that?

That drove him crazy.

It was probably your reserved nature that felt refreshing to him since he's used to having a crowd of admirers around him. You weren't trying to stand out, be loud—you just always seemed like you had your own little world to be content with.

And he desperately wants to be a part of your life. But let's be real—he's probably not the type to immediately accept his feelings about you because this is genuinely the first time he's falling for someone, so with some ups and downs, denial, and winning a war with his own feelings—yep, he wanted you BAD.

So little by little, he would hang out with you during breaks, keep you company, and slowly become a part of your inner circle—you grew fond of him in your own quiet way. So with Valentines coming up, Atsumu decides it would be the perfect time to confess his undying love for you.

But of course this is an Inarizaki centered story, and it's not one without chaos.

"Yo, have you guys seen the new post from the student council?" The volleyball club were currently in the gym practicing as usual every after school times. Akagi, who was simply scrolling at his phone during break ends up with an interesting post from their student council's social media page regarding the event tomorrow. "The color-coded shirts? still haven't decided what I'm gonna wear to be honest." Aran replied, approaching Akagi to look at his phone, checking what each color meant. To celebrate Valentines, the student council announces a color-coded Valentine's event wherein students wear shirts that indicate their relationship status: Red meant taken, White meant single, Pink means friend-zoned, Black meant heartbroken, etc. Atsumu, who was already plotting his confession, grinned to himself. White it is, because, obviously, he's saving himself for you. So could you just imagine on a Valentines day morning, he's all excited walking at the school, ready to show off in front of you, and sees you in the hallway—

... wearing a red top.

aka TAKEN.

his soul shatters at the sight.

I—what—When—WHO???? Osamu and Suna who was with him—seeing the devastated face on Atsumu bursts into laughter.

He turned to Osamu, aggressively whispering "WHEN THE HELL DID THIS HAPPEN???”

"She's taken? tough luck Miya." Suna says in between giggles.

You on the other hand who was just simply talking to a friend—doesn’t recognize the chaos happening behind you for wearing a red top.

“You never told me you were in a relationship?” Your friend offhandedly asks, but they were also internally panicking because they know about Atsumu’s plan.

You tilted your head in confusion, “huh? but I dont?”

“what? it’s red though.” your friend points at your top.

“so? don’t people wear red for valentines?”

You friend’s expression drops.

“[name] you dumbass.”

—

Atsumu spent the whole day sulking, even during practice. He messed up the easiest receives, screwed up his sets, and almost hit Suna on the head with his serve.

that damn red top, he’s never been this furious over a color, and what’s worst is that you looked good with that top too!

How come he had already lost without starting?

And how come he never knew you were already in a relationship? You never gave hints or said anything about being in a relationship—

“If I were you, I would’ve confessed already rather than sulking like that.” easier said than done Aran.

“She was wearing red, RED!” Atsumu dramatically exclaims as he drowns on his own sorrows.

“What did red mean again?” Ginjima asks.

“Taken.” Suna replied bluntly, making Atsumu hiss at the word.

“Never stood a chance huh?” Osamu grinned mockingly.

“SHUT YER TRAP SAMU.”

Kita could only facepalm at the situation, but he’s rather amused since this is the first time he’s seen Atsumu like this, “You know Atsumu, have you ever thought that maybe she just wore the color and discarding the meaning?”

Atsumu’s ears perked up, then Ginjima suddenly had a lightbulb over his head, “Oh yeahhh, it could mean like that too, there were a bunch of guys wearing black for fun earlier despite not being in a relationship.”

“Maybe try asking her about it then?” Akagi suggested.

I mean, it wouldn’t hurt to try.

Actually scrap that, it would.

That is until knocking was heard on the doors of the gym.

The team looks over to the source of the sound then sees—

You… with a small box.

“Uhm, pardon me but can I call for Atsumu?” You asked, peeking over to the doors.

Atsumu immediately RAN and was suddenly infront of you, looking… nervous?

“Did ya’ uh, need anything?” he asks, his voice crackling a little.

Then, you hold out the gift to him. “For you.”

Atsumu froze.

“Huh…?”

“Thanks for always keeping me company,” you say softly. “I know I’m not the easiest person to approach.”

Atsumu finally finds his voice. “Wait—so yer not datin’ anyone?”

You blink. “No, why?”

His brain short circuited. He points at your top, “But—THAT’S RED.”

“So?”

That’s when he realizes.

You didn’t know shit about the color-coded event.

His entire face lights up, and lets out the most dramatic sigh of relief. “Wearing red means taken stupid.” He says, flicking your forehead.

It was your turn to get struck by realization now.

No wonder everyone kept asking if you were in a relationship, and no WONDER everyone was wearing different colors for valentines.

Oh you feel fucking stupid.

You then immediately took your phone out, opening an app then searching for your school’s official account page.

You face drops seeing the png file on the very first post that appeared, no wonder why your friend had asked that odd question.

“I—didn’t know…” you muttered, embarrassed about the whole misunderstanding.

Atsumu only chuckled in response, laughing at your misery. “Yer’ killin me ya know that? I though I lost my chance before I even tried.”

You perked up. “You were trying?”

“Obviously.” He grinned.

You smiled warmly, feeling funny about the situation. “Try harder then.”

Atsumu had the brightest grin on his face, he ruffled your hair then gently took the gift from your hands. “Oh I definitely will.”

“P-D-A ALERT” Osamu suddenly shouted from the gym, surprising you and pissing off Atsumu.

“MIND YER OWN BUSINESS!”

WOOOO KINDA SHORT IM SO SORRY GUYS but happy valentines!! and of course I had to celebrate it by writing my all time favorite character😻 hope you guys enjoyed HDJHFODK

💐 >> bouquets for those who don’t feel special enough on this special day <33

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luvontour · 2 years ago

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❥ . . jealousy, jealousy > joe goldberg

- joe’s happy you’re making friends in london, until he notices the way that stupid writer looks at you.

joe’s hand settles on your hip as soon as the door closes behind him. it’s become a habit since your early stages of relationship. he simply follows as you say your hellos and press your cheek against other girls’ faces with loud kissing noises.

from what you told him, he wasn’t really interested in meeting your friends, if anything he thought of them as one of the many reasons he clung to you a little bit tighter every morning

“y/n, you made it!” joe watches as a peppy blonde throws her arm over your shoulder, not minding how the two of you were almost tangled together.

“hi! phoebe, this is my husband, joe” the blonde brightens up (something joe thought impossible) when you present him. he only nods with a small smile and shakes her hand, despite her attempts of hugging him.

she smiles “come, come. i have to introduce someone to you”

his hand burns into your side, fragments of earlier and your poor attempt of a quickie still in your head as the two of you follow after your friend(ish) to a secluded bar. where a pale, almost your height man sat, swirling his shot of whiskey in its glass. joe recognized him immediately. it’s rhys montrose, the writer nadia had been talking to him about earlier.

“rhys! y/n, the girl i had been talking to you about and her husband joe”

“it’s my pleasure” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. joe doesn’t miss the way his eyes roam you over, throwing the cleavage of your dress a longer stare, he watches you all over, probably imagining lewd scenarios only your husband was lucky to experience.

he wants to leave then and there, but he wants to give it a chance, for you. he can’t think of another reason as to why he would sit there and gulp through this guy’s staring and his always dismissed attempts at flirting with you.

he sees a perfect window when you excuse yourself from the group, something about the powder room, which you never get to, because along the way, he manages to sneak the two of you off to one of many guest rooms.

he knows you felt it too, the way rhyse was staring and making inappropriate jokes, undermining joe and your relationship, inviting you on many scenarios in which he wasn’t included, he doesn’t need anything other than his rough lips and kisses to express what he’s feeling right now.

angry, jealous, possessive? those were just a few of the feelings coursing through him as he moans into your mouth, caving and letting your fingers tangle in his hair and steer him around like a puppy.

“please” your plead breaks him, you look so pretty like this, everytime, even if you were worse than him, kinkier, dirtier, he adored having you like this, under his frame, blushed, sweaty and with your chest racing as if you had just gone running.

“i don’t know doll, what exactly are you asking me for?” his nose nips at your cheek and so do his lips, pressing open mouthed kisses to your skin as he waits for an answer

“fuck me.” he groans when you whisper so sweetly. “please, i want you inside me”

“fucking hell” he struggles to pull away from you even slightly. “you just know i can’t resist when you ask me like that”

there’s some fumbling, but he manages to fish himself out of his pants, tucking your thin underwear to the side before he easily sinks inside you. the two of you make animalistic- guttural sounds at the feeling, and he can’t help when he says

“can’t believe that guy thinks he even has a chance” he chuckles against your jaw before nipping at it, and he just stares. at your furrowed brows, your parted lips. and he listens to your whiny noises and how needy you get for him, and he feels complete.

not as fulfilled as he feels though when he’s sure rhys has heard you, moaning his name over and over until you come.

“y/n?” there’s some incessant knocking, and a faux concerned man on the other side. “are you okay in there darling? you’ve been a while”

“y-yes. yes! im good rhys. i’ll be out in a minute, i think”

“is there anything i can do to help?” god, you wish you could see the two of you from afar. joe’s nibbling at your jaw and neck while your arms around his own keep you closer than ever, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clench your pussy around him. you can’t pretend you’re just touching up your makeup in there. you can care less if the man is waiting for a response, the way joe whispers against you both reassurance and degradations sends shocks of electricity to your poor and abused bundle of nerves.

“are you gonna come?” he chuckles “come on my dick baby, let him hear you. let him know he will never be inside you. that he will never make you feel this good. show him”

“fuck- joe. i’m so close, please”

“i know angel, i’ve got you.” almost on purpose, his hips slam deeper and faster, his thumb quickly presses back and forth on your clit and with his beard grazing against your neck it all becomes too much for you to take. and you’re soon shaking around him, biting his lip after a chain of profanities and his name that you hoped were masked by the music playing outside.

all of this, unaware of the encounter your husband was going to have just outside the door with the relentless writer who did in fact hear everything that just went down

#joe goldberg imagine #joe goldberg #joe goldberg imagines #joe goldberg x reader #joe goldberg x you #joe goldberg smut #penn badgley #penn badgley imagine #penn badgley smut #you imagines #you smut #gif from emotional-emotion

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adorerio · 1 month ago

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Oh To Be Yours

Suna x reader

older brothers best friends plot! Miya reader! Ending opening for a part 2! Background info for the next part!

word count: 975

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

Growing up having Atsumu and Osamu as your older brothers was definitely interesting. They always kept you on your toes and was funny being around. The bad part? They never let you talk to boys they didnt aprove of. It started in junior high when a guy your age asked to walk you home. Safe to say your brothers scared him off because "he looked to funky"

Things didn't change when you came to Inarizaki High. Your brothers wanted to protect you so they insisted you join the vollyball team so they could keep an eye on you at first you said no wanting to join another club after school. But, after Atsumu gave your parents a multitude of reasons they started pushing you to join and reluctantly you said yes.

͙͘͡★

After school you walked over to the gym it would be your first day as the manager and the coach had suggested your first few days would be observing and getting used to the team. He said they were a well behaved group of kids - minus your brothers and the person who instigated most small arguments Suna Rintaro.

When he told you that the name sounded familair but you just couldn't grasp who the name belonged to. Maybe someone from your junior high? You kept wracking your brain to find an answer while you were so distracted you walked into the door to the gym and landed on your butt due to the impact

great I hope nobody saw tha-

*click*

did someone actually just take a picture??

Turning your head to see whoever the person was you recognized him-

"Hey your the guy that my brothers always bring home right?"

Offering his hand to help get you back on your feet he answered "yeah that's me your y/n Miya. Your brothers talk about you a lot its kinda annoying y'know."

"Im sorry what's your name again?"

"Suna Rintaro"

͙͘͡★

"Ah y/n I see you met Suna"

The coach saw you two walk in toghether in fact- the whole team did talk about awkward. You noticed Atsumu staring daggers into Suna. Who you would assume was a close friend to him. At this rate he's going to tell Suna to never talk to you and your life would be practically over-

"Everyone huddle up! I would like our new manager to introduce herself. Then you guys can as well and we can start the drills."

god damn it

Having all types of eyes on you made you feel nervouse you actually forgot your own name for a second. You tried looking at your brothers but that just made it worse. Until you met eyes with suna again. It felt different. It felt safe. While locking eyes with him you decided to introduce yourself to him. Everyone else was just there.

"Hello everyone my name is Miya Y/N and I'm a first year here. If you cant already tell my brothers are Atsumu and Osamu but believe me I'm the better sibling. My hobbies are *your hobbies* and I love listing to *your favorite musician*.

The rest of the team introduced themselves to you and they included the position they played. Some people stood out more than others. Like Kita who said he was the captain and he even asked if it was okay to call you by your first name since there was now three Miya siblings instead of two. You were fine with it of course.

The last person to introduce himself was Suna. He kept it short really and avoided eye contact during it. It was weird because when you introduced yourself he locked eyes but now that it was his turn he avoided it. Maybe your brothers had already told him off. And if they did you would find out and probably yell at them for scaring away another guy.

After Suna walked away you decided it would be best to forget what happened outside the gym and focus on the team. Of course you studied them but you would help coach with tasks as well. Like filling up the water bottles, getting vollyballs and the coach would ask for your own input like what could have been done better.

Safe to say for your first day it wasn't that bad.

͙͘͡★

Once you got home you grabbed a snack and locked yourself in your room wanting to avoid any questions your brothers wanted to ask. As you approached your desk you reached for one thing in particular your diary. Your parents had bought it for you for your 13th birthday and you still kept it.

Sure your family was very open with each other and you trusted them fully but it was hard to talk to them for certain things and your parents knew that. That's what your diary was for.

"Dear Diary,

today is -------- and was my first day as the manager of the volleyball team. It was a smooth first day with not to much trouble so probably the best part. But, I also met a guy. I mean does it really count as met he's been to the house before but we never talked. If anything all I got was a nod from him. I always thought he was attractive I mean his eyes its like there's something he's always thinking about. There is never a moment he's just blankly staring.

But of course I never thought of the possibility of dating that's not how it goes with two overprotective brothers. I got to talk to him today tho outside with nobody watching. It was embarassing because of that stupid picture he took.

It might be crazy that over this one interaction I'm hoping for something to happen between us. And I'm hoping he's wishing for the same thing

Oh to be yours"

˚₊‧꒰ა 𓂋 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

AN: well that's a wrap for the first part. Originally it wasn't meant to be a two-parter but I didnt want to rush the ending or make this super long either. The second part will be out once I finish my other wips. Criticism and reqs are always welcome!!

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyu fluff #suna rintarou #suna x reader #suna rintaro x reader #suna x y/n #hq fanfic #hq fluff #hq x reader #hq x you

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silly-things6 · 2 months ago

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Stripper! Reader x Sylus

Afab reader, reader has female anatomy (basically mc but she’s a stripper)

I did not intend for this to come out on Christmas Eve, but happy holidays, everyone

⚠️MINORS DNI I WILL TELL YOUR MOM⚠️

Warnings: Y/N used, porn wit tiny bit of plot striping, pole dancing,buying your love, lap dances, man handling over clothes touching, mating press implied , tinny bit of a breeding kink , no protection (wrap it before you tap it), creampie, semi public sex,no after care, hitting and quitting it (kiiiinda?) lemme know if I missed anything )

I was originally going to write something for dragon sylus but this idea popped into my head,

I mostly do visual references and small stuff so my writing might be a little off but I hope you like it

you were a ‘dancer’ at a club called “The golden flamingo.” It was a nice club most oh the clients who showed up were rich businessmen who wanted a place to feel special or hold business meetings.you started working there a few months ago.the clients tipped well enough so you couldn’t really complain.tonight however your boss seemed to be especially stressed. Walking back and forth on the main floor making sure everything was set up perfectly. He wouldn’t explain to anyone why he was so stressed only that a special guest was coming in today. You got ready to go on the stage, wearing a lacy red bra with a pair of lace panties, along with some stalking and a garter to hold them up. Your heals click on the floor as you quickly make your way to the stage so you don’t miss your Que

you were doing your usual routine of dancing on the silver pole. You grip on the pole and spin to the other side, that’s when you see a pair of red eyes locked onto you. A tall man with white hair in a very nice suit with his jacket casually thrown over his shoulders one you didn’t recognize, was sipping on a glass of whiskey and staring right at you. you finished up your routine still not able to shake the feeling of the man’s eyes on you. You take your money and shove them in the band of your bottoms. You step of the stage just as another girl replaces you on the pole. almost as soon as you were on the main floor the man who was staring at you walks over at you and stands before you. He introduces himself a a business man named Sylus, The two of you talk for a few moments before he asks if he can take you to a privet room.you accept and you make it to one of the fancier VIP rooms. Sylus takes a seat on the plush Red sofa with his long arms resting along the back of it.

”so sweetie what’s your name?” He asked cocking his head to the side a bit. You tell him your stage name which causes the man to laugh.

“No no..your real name.” You were caught off guard by this, you’ve never had a client ask or really care about your name is.

“Y/N”

“That’s a pretty name, sweetie. So what kind of services do you usually do back here? It’s my first time getting these kinds of services at this location.”

“Hmm well how about a lap dance, sugar.”

Every time you talk to a client you put on this sickly sweet fake voice that makes you internally cringe at your self. Sylus Seems to catch the fact the way you talk but be he doesn’t say anything. You walk over to him, stand in between his already spread legs. You start to sway your hips to the beat of the loud club music, Sylus slyly smirks his eyes locking to your hips as you move them. You tun yourself around and move your ass onto his lap. You rest your back on his chest and your head on his shoulder as you start to move your ass up and down his lap. You could definitely feel him get hard under you, which is no big surprise. A mix of the friction and having a barely dressed woman on top of them would definitely do that. You almost blush as you feel just how big he is under his suit pants, oh fuck this guy is big big. A part of you wants to at least see the monster he had trapped under there.

Sylus Smirks as the dance continues eventually his hands drift to your hips.

“ we have a no touching rule.”

You say reaching down to move syluss Hands but he just chuckles.

“Oh darling.. considering this is my club I think I’ll do what I please.”

That’s when it hit you, you weren’t dancing for just anyone, you were dancing for the man that owned this club, and many others around town. In all honesty you had no way of knowing since you, and most of the staff who worked here, have never met the mysterious man who owned the club. For some reason you decided to test your luck with him, still nudging away his hands before you stand infront of him with your hands on your hips.

“You still have to fallow the rules like everyone else, ya know. Not gonna let you just wave your status around to get what you want.”

“Oh you have claws don’t you kitten? how about this”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bit of money and counts it.

“Three hundred to let my touch you”

He says holding the money out to you. You hesitate for a second but against your better judgement you take the money and put in in the waistband of your panties.

“Alright, just be careful with where you touch or I’ll scream for the bouncers.”

“Alright, come here sweetie.”

You take a few more steps to Sylus Standing between his spread legs. His hands immediately go to your hips and rub gently up and down them, his touch was soft at first but slowly becoming rough and almost demanding. He moves his hands up to your chests, his large hands cut your breasts perfectly.

“You should take this flimsy little bra off”

“That’s a different kind of service with a different kind o-“

“two hundred more dollars?”

“Okay deal.”

With that you reach back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall to the floor between you and Sylus. The cool air of the room made your nipples harden rather quickly. He lets out a whistle as he gets a full view of his breasts his hands immediately reach forward and grab onto the mounds on your chest, the palm of his hands a warm compared to room.

He fondles your breasts for a minute, seemingly memorized. Really? A man who owns plenty of clubs like this is so obsessed with playing with your boobs? What’s this guys deal? As you were lost with thought he leans forward and plants a kiss on your neck out of nowhere.

“Woah-! What are you-!”

He started to suck on the spot he just licked, leaving a dark red mark when he pulls his soft pink lips away.

“Sorry Darling, you just looked to good not to have a taste of. Is this okay?”

He asked his red eyes half lidded. Everything in your brain was telling you to tell him no..but it did feel good having him leave that mark on your skin, so against your better judgement you let out a shakey

“Yes”

With your permission Sylus goes back to sucking on your neck, sucking on your most sensitive parts. He eventually moves down and pops one of your already hardened nipples into his warm mouth. You don’t stop him as her roughly sucks and plays with your nipples, you also don’t stop him when his large hand moves in between your thighs, rubbing two fingers over your panties, right over your clit.

“S-sylus, shouldn’t be- can’t”

“Shhh sweetie, I can feel you want this. I can feel the wetness already soaking through your panties.”

He was right, you were soaked. You have been since you felt his hard cock against you during your lap dance. His fingers move quicker against you. He keeps changing from nipple to nipple pinching and licking them. After a few minutes, when your pussy starts to twitch wanting some sort of relies, he pulls away and looks up at your blushing face.

“Want more then just my fingers pretty girl?”

Again, you know you should just say no, you’re technically still working but before you can say anything week “yes” slips past your lips. He smirks and in and in an instant he grabs your hips and switched up positions. He puts you down on the red couch somewhat roughly and pulls your legs apart, watching your body shiver under him for a second before he takes off his belt and drops it on the ground. His suit pants and boxers are pulled down just enough to free his hard dick. Your Jaw drops as you see it, god it was BIG you weren’t totally sure if he was gonna fit.

“Hmm, like this sweetie? You’re gonna fit this thick cock inside of you, but I should probably prep you a little bit since I’m feeling nice.”

With that Sylus gets on his knees in front of you, nestling himself comfortably between your legs. He pushes up your thighs and then rests them on his shoulders. He reaches forward and without a warning he takes your panties in both of his hands and rips them in half.”

“Hey! Why did you do that?!?!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new pair”

“But I don’t want a~ ohhhh!”

Before you could fully respond Sylus had his mouth on your clit and started to lightly suck on it. His fingers were also playing with your wet entrance. Your back arches up off the couch when his long fingers slide into you. His movements are slow at first, but he tilts his fingers so he was hitting your G-spot just right, the sucking on your clit gets more instance as well. Your hands reach down to pull at his hair.

“Ahha! Sylus! So much!”

This encouraging seems to make him go faster basically making out with your clit, his fingers plunging into you like his life depended on it.

“Sy- ahah! Gonna cum! Don’t stop! Ahh!”

Sylus thinks about stoping right there, he thought about letting you tear on the edge of your explosive orgasm for just a little bit he decides to be gracious and let you come on his tongue and fingers. Your entire body twitches as a rush comes through you and warm,sweet liquid coming out of your pussy and covering his fingers in your love juices. He pulls away staring down at your post Orgasam glow, he takes his fingers and puts them in his mouth sucking of your cum. Sylus swipes a finger in between your folds, collecting some more of your wetness, and then he brings his fingers to your own mouth and commands you to suck his slick covered finger so you could taste your.

“Mm now you’re ready for my cock, sweetie.”

He stands up and leans over you practically folding you in half.

“Sylus- please need it.”

He smirks at your eagerness and lines up his cock at your entrance. He rubs it a few times In between your folds and onto your sensitive clit.

“So ready for me, wet whore.”

Sylus slips his cock into your wanting hole. He grunts as he finally has you around him. You reach up and grab onto his muscular arms through his suit shirt. He stretched you out so deliciously, of course it hurt a little bit you’ve never taken anything as big.

“So warm and wet sweetie- ohh and tight. Gonna become addicted to your pussy Y/N!”

After a few moments of you adjusting to syluss dick his hips start to move He goes almost painstakingly slow at first, despite his rough demeanor, he’s doing his best not to fuck youwith no restraint, to let you get used to the feeling. You of course were already a mess, his dick was against every good spot inside of you at once some how.

“I’m going to start moving faster now, claim this pussy as mine forever sweetie!”

And he does just not moving his hips I don’t know Almost inhuman speed. Sylus grabs onto your thighs, somehow able to bend you even more and half a few pounds into you in a perfect rhythm. the only sounds being heard in this VIP room was the beat from the music in the main club and the sound of your skin slapping together. you couldn’t articulate any proper words the only legible words able to come out of your mouth being his name and:

“good fuck fuck full! Ah SYLUS AHHH!”

“Fuck, oh I’m gonna fill up this pussy! Make you all mine my little slut, someone I can fuck and fill up whenever I want, but first I need you to come with my cock, I need it! Agh! Cum for me!”

you didn’t try to hold back slightly but a mix of his words and where was hitting somehow pushed you over the edge, even though you just came not too long ago. As your orgasm starts to hit you, Sylus grabs onto the bottom of your ass and pulls you up slightly, so your hips were raised above the couch. You scream out his name during the climax over and over again. That’s what pushes him over the edge. Syluss hips start to stutter a little bit.

“That’s it! Gonna fill up this lovely pussy!”

Oh and he dose. He just sent them what time before warm ropes of his come shoots out of his cock deep inside of you, he shallowly thrust a few more times making sure your full to the brim before he pulls out. He lets your bottom, half rest onto the soft couch then pulls out. He watches his white seed drip out of your warn out hole. Seeing this sylus sighs and takes two of his fingers and scoops up some of your cum and pushes his cum back into you.

“Can’t be waisting thathmm?”

you lay there half on the couch your bottom half dropped to the floor as Sylus gets up and reequip his pants and belt.

“Mm that was great. I’ll definitely be coming back for more, or maybe I’ll call you over to my place for a special show? I do owe you a new pair of panties don’t I, sweetie?”

He takes out about $200 and sets it next to your head.

“ and I’ll make sure to tell your boss that you’re going home for the night, see you next time, sweetie.”

And with that he was gone, and you were left with the hope that his words were true and that you would be seeing him again, sooner rather than later.

___________________________________________

#love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace sylus #love&deepspace smut #smut #sylus smut #sylus x mc #sylus x reader smut #lnds sylus #smut fanfiction #i worked so hard on this #lnds fanfics #smut time #gaming smut

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wynnyfryd · 1 year ago

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 35

part 1 | part 34 | ao3

cw: Fred slander apologies to any Freds

“Okayyy,” Robin says with a shaky laugh as she points at everyone in the booth, going around the circle and introducing them in a single breath. “Amy-Tim-Vickie-Beth-Grant-Jordan-Fred, aaand Nancy. You, um, you already know— Nancy... r-right,” she stammers at Steve’s pointed glare, “so, um. Anyway!”

She grabs him by the shoulders; shoves him front and center like he’s a really cool new toy she brought to class for show-and-tell. “Everyone, this is Steve! Steve, this is—”

“You don’t have to say it again.”

“Oh, thank god.” She slides into the booth with a relieved huff, and Steve scoots in after her.

Despite the awkward tension and that bonkers introduction, everyone at the table does their best to act cool, to say hello and make him feel welcome while they wait for the band to start. Grant slides him the basket of fries, and Jordan compliments his watch, and Vickie asks if he’s coming to the last football game of the season, voice high and shy as she rambles about how ‘Robin’s solo in the halftime show is sooo good, you really should come see it!’ and wow.

Is Robin vain or something? She’s got a crush on a clone of herself.

Steve munches on fries and keeps an eye on the stage, hoping to catch Eddie before the show starts, and the whole thing’s… not so bad, actually. Kind of decent. Almost nice, until Fred fucking Benson ruins it. Steve’s saying something about the basketball team’s chances this season when the little asshole rolls his eyes and leans in to stage-whisper to Nancy loud enough for the whole table to hear, “The Hair? Seriously? What’s he even doing here?”

...Yeah, fuck this. “He’s getting a drink,” Steve says and storms off to the bar.

—

He’s not getting that drink.

Turns out a tenner isn’t a big enough bribe to get a bartender to break the law, so Steve nurses a diet Coke that he pretends is a lager and refuses to even look in the direction of the booth. Fucking Fred. What an asshole.

And what a stupid name, too, like— who looks at a baby and thinks, yep, looks like a Fred to me? Ugh.

Robin, bless her, has the good sense to leave him alone for a couple minute until he cools off, but then the music starts and she comes over to shout ‘stop moping and dance with me!’ and that’s the end of that.

—

The band is fucking awesome.

Steve doesn't know what he expected, but it wasn't this: high energy, tight rhythms, a driving beat that makes him want to dance. The bass reverberates through the floor, up his shins and through his chest, and for a second it almost feels like he has his hearing back, like his whole body is a wall of noise, filled with the wail of Eddie’s guitar, the scratchy rasp of his singing voice, and Eddie's…

Eddie’s amazing. Lightning in a bottle as he bounces around the stage, hips moving to the rhythm, fingers blurring over the frets. He looks so fucking hot. Denim vest, silver rings, jeans showing a delicious amount of skin — skin Steve has put his mouth on; tattoos he’s tasted with his tongue.

God, he can’t wait to kiss him. Is probably going to combust if it doesn’t happen tonight. Or like, come in his jeans, more realistically.

They dance and jump and shout along to the covers they recognize, and when Eddie dips backstage to let the band do an instrumental thing, Steve shakes the sweat out of his eyes and heads to the bar for a water.

—

"Mind if I join you?" Nancy asks.

Steve sighs. This is what he gets for wandering off alone. Robin's still by the stage, twirling Vickie around swing-style to a frantic, jazzy drum solo in a move that's actually pretty impressive even if it makes no sense with the music, and Steve resigns himself to his fate and nods at the empty stool beside him.

They sip their drinks in silence — awkward and charged, old hurts hanging between them like static waiting to strike. "Sorry about Fred," she says eventually. "And- and for me, too, I guess."

Steve huffs a laugh. Appreciates the sentiment, even if it doesn't change anything. "It's fine."

She glances over at him, that journalistic focus etched into her face. “How are you?” she asks softly.

Another laugh under his breath. He thinks about answering her honestly, just to entertain himself. Pictures the way her face would fall as he went on and on: "Oh, you know. My mom left me to go ‘rest' in Evanston, like I don’t know that means she went to rehab without saying a goddamn word, and when I called my aunt to yell at her about it, she said some ice cold shit about how I should be happy my mom left me, because now I can keep the money from the lot fees all to myself, and I said ‘what lot fees?’ and it turns out mom had been hiding, like, a lot of money from me while I stressed out about our budget for months. Oh! And also my dad’s dead, but you knew that already. And also I want to hump my neighbor against a brick wall so bad my dick is turning purple. How are you?"

"...Steve?" she tries after a moment.

“I’m good,” he settles on. Gives the bullshit answer because that's all they've ever been to each other, isn't it? Bullshit. "Yeah, I'm good," he tells her, "and you?"

"I'm fine." Her smile is tight, bags under her tired eyes, and then she sighs out long and slow, "Actually, I'm not. Everything's been..."

Steve tries to listen, but he just can't bring himself to care. Doesn't want to hear about whatever drama she's going through with the guy she dumped him for. And then Eddie comes back out on stage, and he's looking out into the crowd, and no fucking way is Steve letting him look over here and think he's cozied up with Nance. No fucking way. Nancy's ruined enough good things for him already.

"Sorry," he cuts her off, not feeling sorry at all as he stands up and walks off without looking back at her.

"Steve?" She calls after him. "Hey- wait!"

Steve makes his way to the front of the crowd.

“Howdy,” Eddie greets the room, stepping up to the mic with a Hollywood-worthy grin. His guitar’s strapped over his back, the neck pointing to the ground, and he looks so good up there. So comfortable and real.

And his outfit's different now. The denim vest is gone, and he's wearing a cut off tank top. The tank top; the one he wore that night, loose around the arms to expose his pretty, painted ribs. Steve looks up at him, transfixed. Like staring straight at the sun.

“How’s everybody doing?”

The group at the stage all whoop and cheer, and Eddie laughs delightedly; thanks them all for coming, thanks the tech and service crews. He introduces the band next, pointing each member out by name and letting them do a little solo, and then he swings his guitar over his shoulder and says, “We got one last song for you tonight!”

More cheering from the crowd. Eddie plants his feet and scans the room, a small, secret smile lighting up his gorgeous face when his eyes land on Steve. Just for a second before he looks away, but that smile stays firm, and Steve knows the next words are meant for him.

“Now, this isn’t our usual style, but uh… a little birdie told me someone here might need to hear this.”

Eddie strums his guitar. The opening notes of Go Your Own Way ring out, sped up and made grittier to fit the band's sound. Steve’s heart is in his throat.

“Good morning, sweetheart," Eddie beams as his bandmates join in, "this one’s for you.”

—

part 36

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #fred benson #mean girl steve realizing that actually you can just walk the fuck away #my writing #my fic

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fairy-writes · 7 months ago

Note

hello there i hope you have a great day today, can i request an albert x reader. the reader is holmes younger sister (could be an age gap but if you uncomfortable you can make the reader sherlock older sister). im kinda interested that the reader and albert is ike in a fake engagement but slowly they fall for each other. im sorry if its a lott or confusing 😖😖😖😖

FAKE… OR IS IT?

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): Albert James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, Holmes!Reader, Fake Engagement, Reader is short

Notes: I wrote this with the reader being the Holmes’s middle child. So, in between Mycroft and Sherlock :)

Here are their ages!

Mycroft: 31 | Reader: 27 | Sherlock: 24

__________________________________________________________________________

“Sit up straight, Sister.” Mycroft chastises, and you roll your eyes, propping your heeled feet up on the coffee table, much to his chagrin. You can tell he’s less than pleased with the mud on the table by the tightness around his eyes.

“Bugger off, Mikey.” You grumble and slouch even more in your seat. His frown deepens, but he knows better than to try and get you to obey. If anything, it would make you rebel even more.

You had never been one for proper manners if you could help it. You had always been a rough-and-tumble type of woman, playing in the dirt with the neighborhood kids while Mycroft and Sherlock dealt with their studies. Sure, you also had studies of your own. But overall, you tended to ignore whatever your governess taught you in favor of learning how to handle weapons from your father. Mycroft sits back in his seat and sighs,

“At least sit properly when the company gets here.” He mutters under his breath.

That gets you to sit up straight.

“Company?! Since when?!” You choke and hurriedly set down your teacup before you can spill it down your front. Your elder brother had summoned you to his office that morning with a telegram. But he hadn’t explained why you were there, even with your pestering. Mycroft glares at you pointedly and is about to answer when there’s a firm knock on the door.

“Come in.” He calls, his voice booming and loud in the quiet room.

A tall young man, perhaps your age, enters the room. He’s attractive, almost devilishly so. With slicked-back brown hair and piercing green eyes, he’s dressed in the typical uniform of all soldiers.

You recognize this man.

Your younger brother wouldn’t shut up about his family.

Lieutenant Colonel Albert James Moriarty.

You glare at Mycroft, who ignores your look in favor of standing up and shaking Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s hand. Brushing off the front of your dress, you stand as Mycroft gestures to you.

“This is my younger sister,” He says. Your name follows soon after. You plaster a bright smile on your face and extend your own hand. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty bows slightly and introduces himself before you turn to look at your brother.

“I assume this is where I take my leave?” You ask, and he raises an eyebrow,

“On the contrary, dearest sister, you’ll be taking part in this meeting.” Your face betrays your shock before you can school it into a facade of perfect calm.

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty notices but doesn’t comment.

Mycroft gestures for you to take your seats before his desk, and you do so, perching on the edge of the seat like a bird ready to take flight. In contrast, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty sits back, relaxed in his chair, setting his hat in his lap and steepling his hands together.

“So, mind telling me what this ‘important mission’ is about?” He says politely, and you look at him from the corner of your eye.

Important mission?

Just what was your elder brother planning?

Mycroft leaned his hands on his desk and then leaned his weight on his hands. It seemed he wasn’t taking a seat quite yet.

That meant things were serious.

“There’s a mission I am entrusting to the both of you. It’s of the utmost importance and must be handled immediately.”

Wait…

“You’re what?!” You blurt just as Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty opens his mouth to speak. You don’t give him the chance to talk. You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt.

You weren’t about to be a pawn in your brother’s game. You weren’t even an MI6 agent or soldier of his!

“Absolutely not! This can’t possibly be legal! I’m just a civilian!” You stand and jab a finger at Mycroft, the other hand clenched in the fabric of your dress skirt. Mycroft stares down at you. He had always been the tallest of the three Holmes siblings. You were saddled with the hefty burden of being the shortest.

“You know this as well as anyone that MI6 operates outside the law,” Mycroft says simply, and you grind your teeth. He had a point. But still…

“What about Miss Moneypenny?” You ask, and Mycroft shrugs,

“She’s on another mission with Colonel Moran. You two are the only ones I trust with this.” He says, turning his intense stare onto you and Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty.

You flinch at that. Mycroft never openly said he trusted you. It was sometimes implied, but he knew how fickle you could be! Was this mission really that important?

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty stands and accepts the papers Mycroft hands him. He then extends a hand for you to take. Begrudgingly, you take it and allow him to help you to your feet.

At least your ‘mission partner’ was a gentleman.

You accept Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty’s offer to take you back to the Holmes London estate and sit across from him in the carriage. He opens the papers Mycroft gave him and begins to read.

“Oh dear…” He mumbles, and you look over from where you had been watching the scenery go by. He has a frown pulling at his lips and creasing his brows.

“What’s the matter?” You ask, and he turns the papers around so you can read them.

“It seems we’ll need to be engaged for this mission to work.”

Your engagement was announced within the next week.

You had even commissioned an artist for an engagement photo of sorts. Granted, it was just for show, but still! You had to stand still for hours in a dress your mother picked out and that you loathed all for one portrait.

You never understood how royalty could do it.

Speaking of your parents…

Part of the facade was to make sure everyone was in on it. Maybe ‘in on it’ wasn’t the right word. Because this was a top-secret mission, after all. So you couldn’t exactly tell your parents that this engagement was fake. But you did have to tell them you were getting engaged lest you incur the wrath of your mother.

Wanda Holmes was a proper woman. She was everything you weren’t. Prim, proper, ladylike. The only thing you got from her was her height and her temper. She hated that you weren’t the little lady she dreamt of having. But there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it.

In contrast, Timothy Holmes was a bit of a rule breaker. He fostered your love for weaponry and often challenged you to a shoot-off to see if you let your skills rust over. You inherited his knack for getting under people’s skins, and it was a wonder that he was still married to your mother after thirty years.

Telling them was an… interesting adventure, to say the least. As your carriage rumbled up to the country estate where they resided, they met you outside. Your mother had her hands clasped together, a newspaper crunched in her grasp. Her face was dark with disappointment.

Like the light side of the moon, your father all but bounded up as you stepped out of the carriage.

“Dearest daughter!” He bellowed, and you couldn’t help but grin.

“Dearest father!” You tease right back and step forward into his embrace. He squeezes you tight and lifts you up into a spin. You shriek with laughter and cling to him to make sure you don’t fall when he sets you back down.

“Darling, at least let her get into the house before you bother her.” Your mother says, and you roll your eyes but don’t say anything.

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty steps out of the carriage, and your father’s demeanor changes. His smile is still there, but it no longer reaches his eyes. He extends a hand, and when Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty takes it, you can tell he’s holding back a wince from how hard your father squeezes it.

“Timothy Holmes. It’s a pleasure.” Your father says curtly, and you can tell Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty can tell he’s being judged. But he offers a polite smile nonetheless,

“Albert James Moriarty. The pleasure is mine, Mr. Holmes.” He says, and it’s then that your mother approaches. Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty shakes her hand,

“You must be the infamous Wanda Holmes. It’s lovely to meet you.”

Your mother’s face smoothes over, and she looks at you,

“At least you’re marrying someone with manners.” This is her only comment, and you can see that the newspaper in her free hand is the one announcing your engagement.

Perhaps you should’ve informed them by telegram instead of coming to visit for dinner…

No… That would’ve made her even angrier than she already was.

She soon ushers you into the little cottage that served as your parents' retirement home. The minimal staff on site has already prepared and served dinner, but you don’t eat just yet because your father catches your shoulder. He has a knowing gleam in his eye, and you can’t help but get a giddy smile on your face.

Of course, he wouldn’t forget.

Your mother notices, and her face sours.

“Can’t this wait until after dinner?” She asks, and now your father scoffs,

“Of course not, my love! It’s tradition!” He crows, and you can see Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty start to ask, but you’re taken out back before anything can be asked.

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty follows you out, and by then, your father is setting up targets with you, assembling the two pistols you always used for this little exercise. You brush off your hands on your dress and hand your father the revolver. You take your own and pocket it in the holster strapped to your waist. He does the same and looks to Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty.

“Mind giving us a signal?” He asks, his tone much more friendly yet still a bit frosty at the same time.

Your ‘fiancé’ seems to pick up on what’s happening quickly and nods. He allows both of you to take a stance before calling out a signal.

The game takes less than twenty seconds.

You whip out your gun and unleash all six bullets in the cylinder and barrel. Your father does the same, and before you know it, both of your guns are empty, and your ears are ringing. Holstering the weapon, you wait for your father to do the same before approaching the targets.

Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty is called forward to inspect the targets as well.

“I believe your daughter is the winner.” He tells your father, and you grin proudly.

“Guess I haven’t lost my touch, Father Dearest.” You tease, and your father slaps his thigh in defeat,

“And I guess I’m losing mine!” He chirps, and your mother calls from the doorway.

“And it’s time for dinner!”

The carriage ride back is quiet.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that? I’ve never seen someone so accurate in a quick draw.” Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty says, and you jolt lightly. The food you had eaten was sending you into a food coma, and you had been dozing until he spoke.

“My father. He was known as “Dead-Eye” for a long time until he retired from the military.” You said, and he nodded in appreciation.

“He taught you well.”

You smiled and played with your fingers.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Colonel Moriarty.” You say genuinely, and he arches an eyebrow,

“You should call me Albert. We are engaged, after all, my dear fiancée.” His tone is borderline teasing. But you can tell he’s being genuine.

And for whatever reason, it makes your heart race.

The mission is kicked into gear three months after announcing your ‘engagement.’

The gala you are attending is only for married or engaged couples. Everyone was investigated to ensure no one single was sneaking in. Why they wanted to keep single folks out was a mystery to you. But you relented and accepted the invitation as the ‘Future Mrs. Moriarty’ with as much grace as you could muster.

You produced the invitation from your handbag and handed it to the man checking said invitation. Your free hand was looped through Albert’s arm, resting in the crook of his elbow. He chatted amicably with the doorman until you were announced as a couple and ushered inside.

The air was already alive with the sounds of music and dancing couples. The two of you make some rounds around the sides of the dance hall, looking for your target. Hell, you even danced the waltz to a few songs! All those lessons you thought were useless were sure coming in handy now… Perhaps you should thank your mother for forcing you to listen to your governess as a child.

Albert leans down to whisper in your ear as he brings you in from a gentle spin.

“He’s at the top of the stairs.” He murmured, looking for all the world like he was whispering sweet nothings to his fiancée. But instead, he was walking you through the next phase of the plan. Seeing as your job was to kill your target, he was instructing you on how to get to his office, where he would meet you and find the documents he was looking for.

Albert was to find the incriminating evidence. You were to kill the target if he tried to resist.

The office was warmed by a crackling fire. There’s a large mahogany desk in front of the fireplace with documents and papers scattered across the surface. You clutch your purse closer to your chest, feeling the sturdy weight of the revolver inside. It was comforting.

You had one job, so you would do it, and you would do it well.

The doorknob turned, and you jumped, sneaking a hand inside your handbag to draw the revolver. The door opens, and the target spots you in front of the dying light of the fireplace.

“Who are you?!” He bellows, but you know no one would be able to hear him over the sounds of music and talking.

He doesn’t hear the door shut behind him until Albert slides the lock into place. He whirls and tries to push past your fiancé, but it’s like trying to move a stone wall.

“What are you going to do to me?!” The target demands, and Albert smiles a terrifying smile. It was nothing like the kind and even tender smiles he had been giving you as of late. This smile darkened his eyes.

It was almost… Cruel…

“Nothing if you cooperate.” He says darkly and pushes the man to sit in the chair before his desk. You walk behind him and press the muzzle of your revolver to the back of his balding head. He freezes, a drop of sweat traveling down his temple.

Albert rifles through the desk, and no one says a word for what seems like forever.

At least… Until the target tries to run.

The chair has a low back. It’s almost more of a stool, so he throws his head back and cracks it into your nose. You stumble back and fall, tripping over the hem of your dress. The only thing keeping you from firing your gun is the fact that your father had engrained it into you to not keep your finger on the trigger until you were ready to fire.

Albert freezes and reaches into his suit jacket coat, but you’re faster.

Before the target can even make it two paces, you fire your revolver, and the bullet sinks into his skull. Brain matter and blood spatter across the carpet. The pain sets in as Albert helps you to your feet and hands you a handkerchief for your bleeding nose.

There’s no way you could go back out into public like this…

And as always, it seems Albert reads your mind.

“We’ll escape out the window.” He says and pockets a few documents.

“Did you get what you need?” You ask, and he nods, his smile tender and warm again.

It makes your heart flutter.

The two of you escape out the window like Albert had said. Luckily, the carriage was already waiting outside, so you were able to retreat without being seen.

Mission accomplished.

You scowl at Mycroft as he reads through your very first report from MI6.

“It’s a bit lackluster, but everything went according to plan?” He asked, and you huffed.

“Except for the part where I broke my nose.” You say, your voice slightly garbled from the bandages on your nose. Mycroft simply nods,

“These things are expected to happen. Be glad it wasn’t anything more serious.” He says, tangles his fingers together, and leans his chin on them. “If you’d like, we can feed the newspapers a story about your and Lieutenant Colonel’s parting of ways. You don’t have to be engaged to him anymore.” He continues, and you freeze.

Not be engaged anymore?

“What about Mother and Father? They’ll be furious.” You say absentmindedly, and he cocks his head to the side.

“Since when have you ever cared what they think?” He says, confusion coloring his tone. You avert your gaze.

“I’m just saying… I don’t mind taking more missions from you from now on…” You mumble and stare at the carpet. But you can hear the smile in his tone when he speaks next.

“If that’s what you desire, sister dearest. I’ll let Lieutenant Colonel know of your decision.”

#albert james moriarty x reader #albert moriarty x reader #mtp x reader #ynm x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #fairy writes

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azzifudd · 10 months ago

Text

possession

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: four times paige & azzi knew they belonged to each other

rated: teen

2.5k words

disclaimer: many made up events obviously

[AO3 LINK]

The ball swishes through the net, nearly soundless in the empty gym. Azzi has been taking shots for the past three minutes. She hasn’t missed yet.

She had arrived at the UConn campus only 15 minutes ago, to surprise Paige for her birthday, and after nearly five minutes of hugging, that Azzi is sure Paige would’ve turned into more if her parents hadn’t been there, she had been dragged to the gym where the other girls were in recovery after a strenuous practice.

Paige had left her in the gym, promising to be back soon with the others, and Azzi had picked up a ball to pass the time. As she takes another jumpshot, one of the doors bangs open and she flinches. Her shot goes wide, bouncing off the back of the rim.

Two boys have entered the gym, and Azzi vaguely recognizes them. One of them rebounds her ball and brings it over to her.

“Hey, I don’t think I’ve seen you around before. I’m Andre. I’m on the men’s basketball team.”

She’s heard Paige mention him once or twice.

“Y’know if you want any pointers with your jumper, I could help you out.” His eyes run over her, from head to toe.

“What’s your name?” He asks, overeager.

“Azzi,” she replies, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.

“Dude, that’s Azzi. Bueckers’ girl.” His friend has come up beside them, after hearing Azzi introduce herself.

Azzi feels a flush overtake her entire body. Part of her almost wants to be offended that this boy, on one of the top college teams in the nation, didn’t recognize her. She’s the number one high school player in the nation, and it’s not even close. But another part of her, a bigger part of her, loves that so many miles away from home, a complete stranger hears her name and knows she’s Paige’s.

“Oh shit, you’re Paige’s Azzi. Azzi Fudd!” Andre covers his mouth and groans. “I was trying to teach you how to shoot.”

His teammate cackles beside him, slapping him on the back. “She’s been in three point contests with Steph Curry, my guy, I think she’s good.”

“Damn, that’s embarrassing. I’m so sorry.”

She smiles up at him, now charmed by the whole thing. “It’s cool, I didn’t know who you were either.”

“Oh! She got your ass.” His friend laughs again before turning to her and introducing himself. “I’m James.”

“Azzi.” They shake hands.

“Like I said, I know. PB does not shut up about you.” He does a quick dribble behind his back before pulling up into a smooth jump shot that swishes through the net. “We’ll be shooting around after practice and it’s ‘Oh, Azzi never would have missed that shot. She’s the hardest worker I know.”

“You shoulda seen her a few months ago. Always tapping away on that iPad, putting together clips.”

Azzi remembers the video that Paige had so proudly shown to her family. How silly, and sweet, and how Paige it had been. It makes Azzi even more excited for dinner tonight, where she will finally get to tell Paige that she is committing to UConn.

The door pushes open again, and this time it’s Paige who rushes over to them, throwing an arm around Azzi’s neck.

“Hey, these losers bothering you?” Paige asks, laughter clear in her voice. But Azzi knows that it would only take one word from her to set her off if Azzi asked.

“No, they’ve been cool,” she says.

“Well, Coach heard you were here and wanted to say hi. See you guys later.” Paige leads Azzi deeper into the facility.

And if they’re a little late to meet everyone because Azzi pulls Paige into a secluded broom closet for some alone time, no one needs to know but them.

Azzi’s sprinting around the top of the court, rounding one screen and then another, trying desperately to get open. She’s open for a split second, and that’s all it takes for Paige to hit her with the pitch perfect pass. She rises to take the three that could tie the game when a body barrels into her legs.

She hits the floor hard. A whistle blows as the referee calls what Azzi hopes is a shooting foul. She stays on the floor for a moment longer, catching her breath, when suddenly the arena erupts in noise.

Whistles blow, and she finally looks up to see a furious Paige being pulled back by their teammates as one of the referees signals a technical foul. She is spitting furiously at an opposing player. Nika is at her side, simultaneously holding her back from causing more trouble for them and firing Croatian insults at the other team.

Azzi won’t find out until someone shows her the footage after the game, but Paige had stormed over the moment she was fouled and had pushed the offending player with two hands to the chest.

The referee points off the court. Paige has been ejected.

Coach has run over, screaming as the officials struggle to get everything under control. Aaliyah runs over to help Azzi up.

“Paige! Get your ass over here, now!” Geno’s voice somehow booms over the raucous Gampel crowd.

Paige throws her arms up, shrugging their teammates off of her. Satisfied that she has calmed down, everyone begins to back off. But instead of heading off the court like she’s supposed to, she makes a beeline for Azzi, who is still slightly shaken but standing.

Paige raises a hand as if to touch Azzi’s face, but she stops, recognizing where they are. She rests the hand on her shoulder instead.

“You good?” She asks, voice hoarse from shouting.

Azzi nods, still breathing hard. “Why did you do that, you idiot.” But even as she asks, she knows the answer.

Paige smiles crookedly. It is soft despite the noise around them, tender in a way Azzi knows Paige saves just for her.

“Bueckers!” Geno roars. They know if he could storm the court for her, he would have already.

“Go,” Azzi says. “I’ll see you after I win this game.”

“That’s my girl.” Paige leaves the court with a smirk on her face, cheers of her name following her.

Azzi sinks the free throws to send them to overtime. And when they end up winning by eight, even Geno can’t complain too much.

@bueckersbuckets35 it’s bullshit that paige had to apologize. they were targeting azzi all game. bet she’d do it again in a heartbeat if she had to

Paige Bueckers liked this tweet.

“That layup you had in the third!” Paige mimes a euro step, mimics taking a shot with her left hand. “Left hand, baby, bang!”

Hailey van Lith laughs at Paige’s antics, pushing at her playfully. “I mean, it wasn’t enough to get the win against you guys, but it’s always a good time pulling up against you.”

Even if they didn’t talk all the time, it feels like there would always be a special connection between all the girls who had played together for USA Basketball.

Hailey glances around. “How’s the wifey been? I didn’t get a chance to talk with her at the arena.”

Paige grins at that. She knows Hailey means it as a joke, that they are way too young to even think about marriage, but there is always something deeply satisfying for Paige to hear someone acknowledge that she is Azzi's and Azzi is hers.

“She’s doing aight. Her surgery went well. It’s just a shit deal y’know.” There have been plenty of tear filled nights for them both since Azzi had experienced the freak injury, but now Azzi’s ready to move forward, and Paige will be there every step of the way, like Azzi was for her.

Hailey smiles apologetically. “I was really sorry to hear about it. I remember you could never shut up about playing with her.”

“Thank you.” They both jump when Azzi pops up beside them. She gives Hailey a quick hug hello before turning to Paige.

She’s surprised when Azzi wraps her arms around her waist, tucking herself under Paige’s arm, pressing their bodies together.

They are no strangers to PDA. In fact, if Paige had her way, she would never stop touching Azzi. But the younger girl is usually more reluctant around people she doesn’t know, and with Hailey’s teammates around, it is a surprise to see her so affectionate.

Paige isn’t going to complain. She tightens her arm around Azzi’s shoulder and presses a quick kiss to her temple. She catches a whiff of alcohol on her breath. That explains the touchiness.

They chat with Hailey for a bit longer, but when Azzi begins to zone out mid convo, Paige excuses them both and walks them up to Azzi’s apartment.

“She’s so pretty.”

“Huh?” Paige pauses as she wipes the last of Azzi’s makeup from her face as they stand in the bathroom together.

“Hailey. She’s pretty, isn’t she?”

Paige shrugs. “Mm, I guess so.” She moves in closer, nose pressing into Azzi’s head, breathing in the scent of her. “Let’s go to bed.”

Azzi doesn’t say anything else until they’re tucked in together in her bed.

“You were talking to her for a long time.”

“Huh?” Paige groans into the back of Azzi’s neck, already half asleep. When she finally registers the words, she replies, “Who?”

“Hailey,” she replies, like Paige should know exactly what she’s talking about.

“We were just catching up. It’s been a while.” Paige presses a kiss to the side of Azzi’s neck, ready to fall asleep.

“Do you miss playing with her?”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Paige props herself up on her elbow, turning Azzi onto her back to face her. She softens at the look on her girl’s face.

She presses a soft kiss to the dimple in Azzi’s cheek. And then she kisses her nose, her forehead, and all over her face until she’s smiling.

“Hey,” Paige says, making sure Azzi is looking into her eyes as she speaks. “You’ll be back. Best player in the nation, baby.”

Azzi pulls her into a deep kiss that still sends Paige’s head spinning and heart racing even after they have shared so many. When they pull apart, they are both breathless.

“Me and you.” Azzi’s eyes are shining and clear.

“You and me.” Paige gives Azzi a roguish grin and lets her pull her down once more.

“Yo, where’s P?” KK asks, scanning the room. It’s Senior Night, and they’re all getting dressed for the game. Even Azzi has just slipped into a jersey, even though she isn’t playing tonight.

“The seniors are on the court already. I think they had to do a run through of the ceremony. Why?”

Azzi is suspicious. KK looking for Paige is always a sign of something potentially stress inducing on the way.

“Oh, no reason, I just wanna make sure I’m outta the way when Daddy Paige sees you in her jersey for the first time.” KK cackles, ducking out of the way of the towel that Azzi flings at her.

“Nah, we all know there’s no way this is the first time she’s worn it.” Ice chimes in.

“Shut up,” Azzi says, rolling her eyes, glad that the fluorescent lights hide her blush. Surprisingly, she hasn’t worn Paige’s jersey since they were in high school, and even though she’d never admit it to her teammates, she is very excited to see how Paige reacts to it.

The injured players head into the arena just before tip off. The place is packed with fans there to celebrate the players who have given their all for UConn.

Besides that though, the media presence is palpable. The entire basketball world is waiting to hear whether Paige is staying or declaring. Azzi has known for weeks that Paige has decided to stay at UConn for another season. She has unfinished business, and even if they won the title this season, her injuries have robbed her of too much time here.

Azzi feels eyes on her as soon as they get into the open. She has been linked to Paige since before they even came here, so everyone is clearly gauging her mood on such an important night. She could try to play it more coy, but she can’t fight the smile on her face when she sees Paige warming up.

She’s getting one more year with her person. One more chance to fulfill the promise they made to each other when she chose UConn. She’s so happy.

Azzi waves up into the stands where hers and Paige’s family sit together, all wearing Bueckers gear. Drew jumps up and down when she makes a heart with her hands in his direction.

She’s stepping onto the court when she feels it. Goosebumps pimple her skin and she turns to where the majority of the team is casually warming up.

Paige stands at midcourt, staring at her, slack jawed. Azzi smiles coyly at her when Paige takes a step toward her, only to be stopped by CD who is standing next to her with a clipboard and an eyeroll.

Azzi just laughs and goes to take a few shots near the others. She isn’t close to being cleared to play, but she misses it so much. Even just being on the court during game days can be emotional lately. Soon, she feels a heated presence at her back.

Azzi turns around and finds Paige standing close. Too close for such a public place, but she can’t bring herself to move. Paige runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body, lingering on where the number five splays proudly over her chest.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful. You tryin’ to get me in trouble?” Paige asks, voice low.

“Just wanted to support my favorite player.” Azzi looks up at Paige from beneath her lashes, and finds those blue eyes fixated on her lips.

“She must be pretty damn good if she’s your favorite.”

Azzi watches the muscles in Paige’s arms and shoulders flex as she links her hands behind her back, stopping herself from reaching out to touch.

“She’s not bad.” Azzi smirks. “Could use some work on her shooting stroke though.”

Paige scoffs. “I’ll show you my str-”

Two arms suddenly wrap around their shoulders as KK comes barreling into them.

“K, what the hell?” Paige pushes at her as they fight to stay steady on their feet.

“Yo, mom and dad, y’all have got to tone it down.”

KK smiles at them. “Media girl is on the way for some pics and P looks like she’s about to jump you.”

Azzi flushes as they all separate.

“What would y’all do without me though, seriously.”

KK strikes a ridiculous pose, distracting the media girl so Paige and Azzi can rearrange themselves into a more platonic pose.

Azzi hopes no one can see how flustered she is when Paige whispers in her ear to keep the jersey on for after the game.

They take a few quick pictures before it’s time for tip off. It’s an easy win, everyone playing with joy and anticipation of the celebration after the game.

For a moment, Azzi feels deeply sad. She wants to be out there, next to her girls.

But then the final buzzer sounds, and Azzi watches Paige bask in the attention of the crowd who loves her almost as much as Azzi does, and forgets everything but the beaming smile on Paige’s face.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #first time writing something like this hope its not shit #felt cute might delete later

285 notes · View notes

seungrem · 9 months ago

Text

Seonghwa (Ateez) x male!reader

Burying the Hatchet

request ~*+ - masterlist ~*+ - part 1 of ??

summary: Though rival mob bosses separating their territories by north and south, m!reader and Seonghwa frequently bump into each other at socialite events. With tension building up in m!reader’s half of the city, he needs decide whether or not to confide in his connections for support.

( overview: mafiaboss!seonghwa, mafiaboss!reader, both socialites and well known, reader controls the south, seonghwa controls north, associates/goons = mob members, Ricky (zb1) feature because he’s very mob coded, reader is lowkey tsundere, established non-romantic relationship w/ eachother, reader inherits wealth, the park family = seonghwa’s mob group )

( warnings: mentions of plausible violence (guns/fighting), blood, injuries (scrapes/bruises/cuts), hostile personalities, mentions of psychotic/psychopathic behavior, threats, cursing )

emoji code:

🌿 ( long story/series )

-🧸 ( very light fluff )

🫧 ( pieces of angst here and there )

🪐 ( mafia / mob AU )

☁️ ( stands for y/n )

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Chatter echoed through a ballroom bustling of attires fit for only the most affluent. If it were up to him, ☁️ would be perched on the mezzanine, people watching until the gala had concluded. Instead, he walked into room preparing a flashy smile to anyone who would have the misfortune of catching his gaze.

“Can I take your jacket for you, sir?”

As ☁️ awaited the host of the gala’s presence, a teenage boy wearing a tuxedo approached him. The boy flinched slightly as ☁️ turned in his direction, ☁️ assuming he was just someone who worked there.

“No- I’ll keep it, thank you. Could you tell me where Ricky is, though?” ☁️ asked, turning his attention back to the crowd of people in the distance.

Though the two were the same age (early 20s), Ricky had made a name for himself apart from his parents- unlike ☁️. The man had the city’s media in a chokehold, with news of his whereabouts and appearances circling weekly. In contrast, ☁️ had inherited his parent’s wealth and “business” after their passing. The public also kept a close eye on him, but for reasons less alluring.

“Last I’ve seen he was on the other side of the room beside the DJ. Here’s your pamphlet.”

“Thank you.” ☁️ replied, him then taking the paper and watching the boy scurry away. He sighed as he flipped through the pages, reading carefully over the guest list and seating arrangements.

‘What the hell is Seonghwa doing here?’ ☁️ muttered to himself before taking a few steps toward the crowd. Recognizing a familiar face slip out of the mass and approach him with a smile, he quickly placed the pamphlet into his suit jacket as he walked.

“☁️, how have you been?” Ricky called out, waving to the man as the two closed the distance in between them. It was then that the two embraced, holding each other for a moment more. ☁️ noticed Ricky’s navy blue suit had a velvet look to it, him feeling the texture as he held onto the man’s forearms.

“I’ve been great, how about you? And what happened to the blonde?” ☁️ responded, smiling and then pointing to Ricky’s hair. The last time that he had seen Ricky, the man had bleached his hair a platinum silver. Now, his raven-black hair was slicked back, with a few strands falling onto his forehead.

“I’ve been better, and my roots grew out so I just dyed it back to a natural color. But listen, before you leave tonight, I’d like to speak to you. In the meantime, you need to do your rounds.”

☁️ huffed, knowing that this meant he had to greet everyone.

“We’ll be fast.” Ricky assured, once again grabbing the man’s arm and escorting him through the crowd.

☁️ smiled, introduced himself, shook hands, and kissed cheeks more times than he remembered that night. Following a conversation with a couple, Ricky led ☁️ out of the crowd, the two now standing for a moment.

“We done?” ☁️ asked, exhaling.

“One more. You aren’t going to like it, but please be respectful. I don’t want my gala to become a war-zone.”

“Is it Seonghwa?”

“Yes. But-“

“Why the hell did you invite him?”

“I do business with him just as I do with you. I’m prompting neutrality.”

“Understandable. But why do I gotta go over to him?”

“Because you two aren’t going to mean-mug each other all night like you did last year. That caused problems, did it not?” Ricky led ☁️ to his table, the two sitting beside one another.

“I don’t even have my guys with me tonight.” ☁️ argued, though he knew was simply delaying the inevitable.

“Neither does he. It’s invitation only this time.” Ricky’s tone was calm and fresh, though firm. ☁️ didn’t want to push his buttons, ultimately deciding to get it over with.

“Alright, let’s go.” ☁️ straightened his tie and stood up, Ricky following.

“Last I saw him he was standing beside the DJ’s stage. Let’s walk behind it.” Ricky said, motioning ☁️ to follow him.

The two tiptoed around the DJ’s elevated setup, emerging on the other side of the room after carefully stepping over wires and boxes.

“There he is. Behave, please.” Ricky whispered after leaning into ☁️.

“Always.” ☁️ muttered back before noticing that Seonghwa had three of his goons around him. The man leaned his back against a column and looked around the ballroom. He wore a bold outfit- a shiny gold top (that exposed some of his cleavage) with a brown fur coat and grey dress pants. His hair was in an up-do with strands hanging in front of his eyes, and silver chains dangled from his neck. ☁️ thought that Seonghwa was insanely hot, especially in this outfit, but would never vocally admit it.

“You said invitation only, Ricky.” ☁️ muttered through his teeth.

“It was... Let’s just make this quick.”

As the two approached Seonghwa, two of his goons noticed and walked over to his side.

“Seonghwa. I’m sure you remember ☁️.” Ricky chirped, hiding his nervousness very well. ☁️ and Seonghwa stared at each other for a few seconds before ☁️ forced a smile and held out his hand.

“I’m sure you’re well.” ☁️ remarked dully, watching as Seonghwa took his hand and squeezed. It took everything in ☁️ not to call him an asshole, but Ricky was luckily there to mediate.

“I am. It seems like you’re here alone tonight.. what a shame.” Seonghwa replied in his usual deep voice, ☁️ watching the man look him up and down.

“I’m here to donate to a charity, not intimidate socialites with my goons.” ☁️ kept a straight face, but wanted to laugh in Seonghwa’s face. “And you look rediculous.” ☁️ whispered after leaning into Seonghwa, only taking a step back when Ricky grabbed his arm and muttered a ‘Jeez.’ Seonghwa sneered and looked around in response, licking his teeth as he nodded in amusement. ☁️ could tell he was already ticked off.

“I’ll see you later tonight, yeah?” Seonghwa nodded his up as he spoke, patting ☁️ on the arm and nodding to Ricking before departing to his table with his goons.

“You couldn’t have made that any worse.” Ricky whined, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked at ☁️.

“Somebody has to humble him.”

“I don’t want any bad blood here, ☁️.”

“I said that I understood. If he can’t take criticism then maybe he shouldn’t be The North’s premier mob boss.”

“Well Southside’s premier mob boss seems to not know how to behave.”

“I was-“ ☁️ paused. “Well… He’ll be fine.”

“Right.. I’ve been meaning to talk to him so I’m going to do that now. The service should begin in the next few minutes. Make some friends while you’re here, you need them.” Ricky said before he began walking away. ☁️ gasped teasingly, the two smiling to each other as the distance in-between them grew.

—

His footsteps tapping up the staircase’s crimson-colored carpet, ☁️ was on the hunt for someone specific. He stepped onto the mezzanine and walked over to the beige railing, him then leaning against it. Scouring over the many faces on the dance floor and sitting at tables, ☁️ found that Seonghwa was nowhere in sight despite having seen him before the service had begun. Assuming that the man had left early, ☁️ frowned and turn around.

“Whatcha doin’?” Seonghwa asked, leaning against the wall a few feet in front of ☁️. The man’s goons weren’t next to him, but ☁️ could see them on the other ends of the mezzanine through the corner of his eye.

“I was looking for you. Have a minute?”

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow and walked over to ☁️, standing beside him.

“Make it quick.” He muttered, looking down at the people below.

“I received this letter a few days ago. I wanted to ask if you knew anything about it.” ☁️ pulled an envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Seonghwa.

“People still write letters?” Seonghwa said with a scowl, pulling a piece of paper out of the envelope.

“So is it safe to assume that you weren’t the one to send it?”

Seonghwa took another minute to analyze the letter.

“No.. not my style... Whoever did hates you, though.” Seonghwa whispered, handing the piece of paper and envelope back to ☁️. “What’s the red stuff at the bottom? Don’t tell me it’s blood.”

“It is. Instead of signing a name, the blood is suppose to be the signature. That’s what I think, anyway.”

“Wow.. you really pissed someone off. Did you figure out whose blood it is?”

“Mine.”

Seonghwa laughed and turned to ☁️.

“So someone wrote a letter threatening you, somehow got ahold of your blood and smeared it onto the paper, and then mailed it to you?” Seonghwa shook his head with a smile. “Good luck, really. You need it.”

“I thought that you’d be more helpful. That’s all I needed, though. Have a good night.” ☁️ said, turning to walk away. Seonghwa quickly gripped his shoulder and stopped the man in his tracks. ☁️ to looked over his shoulder somewhat menacingly.

“Do you need help? Seriously.” Seonghwa’s unserious smile quickly turned into an expressionless display of concern, as he slightly leaned into ☁️.

“Never will I need your help. Stay on your side and I’ll be fine.” ☁️ quipped, brushing Seonghwa’s hand off of his shoulder and stepping away. He stopped upon hearing Seonghwa continue.

“I hate you.. but don’t die, please.”

“The hell are you talking about?” ☁️ snapped, looking over his shoulder again.

“That’s psychotic behavior, ☁️. You can’t just have one of your guys find and take care of ‘em.”

“Why not?”

“This isn’t just some guy on the street.”

“No shit.” ☁️ rolled his eyes. “I have to go, Seonghwa.”

Seonghwa remained silent, watching as ☁️ strolled back down the staircase.

“How the hell did they know it was there?” ☁️ walked up the stone walkway to his home, with two of his associates following beside him. The mansion had been broken into, with a suitcase full of hard drives having been taken from ☁️’s chambers.

“Respectfully sir, we suspect a mole in the group. After the passing of your parents, the associates haven’t necessarily been well-monitored.” The older man beside ☁️ replied, opening a door for him as the three arrived to the entrance.

“Please get in touch with the gentleman who set the security systems up.” ☁️ paused as he stepped inside. “Actually, I’ll just do it. You two should go home for the night.”

“But sir, we really think someone should stay with you until everything’s resolved.” The second associate replied, following ☁️ as he unbuttoned his suit jacket in the spacious living room. The room glowed in orange and yellow hues from the lit fireplace. ☁️ sighed and turned to his two henchmen, a sense of nervousness trickling down his spine. He wondered if he could trust them, but also wondered if there truly was an outsider out to get him as Seonghwa suggested.

“I’ll take care of myself and this.. situation. Please, go home.”

“At least let me contact the programmer. I’ll get him here as soon as I can.”

“Thank you. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

1 week later

“Two events in a row? This must be a record.”

☁️ felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around. Seonghwa smirked, looking ☁️ up and down. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“Wasn’t sure why you invited me.” ☁️ replied, crossing your arms.

“Oh, here I thought that you wanted to support charities..”

“You held a gala one week after Ricky and invited me on short notice.”

“Seems that I did. So?”

☁️ exhaled. “Thanks but I should go.”

“Wait.” Seonghwa held his hand out to stop the man. “I heard things weren’t going well on your side of the city. You sure you don’t need help?”

☁️ looked around the crowd of people surrounding him. This ballroom was smaller than the previous gala’s, but just as loud. ☁️ leaned into Seonghwa, who reacted by leaning forward as well.

“If I find out that you’re playing me again, it won’t end up for you.” ☁️ murmured into Seonghwa’s ear. Seonghwa leaned back up, with a seemingly offended expression.

“Are you accusing me of what’s going on?”

“No, simply warning you- just in case. I need to go.”

“☁️.”

☁️ turned around and slid past people to get out of the crowd.

“☁️!!”

☁️ froze as the room went silent. Everyone turned to Seonghwa as ☁️ slowly turned around to glance back at the man. An awkward silence filled the air for a few seconds, with Seonghwa not taking his eyes off of ☁️. After the chatter picked back up, ☁️ continued out of the room, leaving an abandoned Seonghwa alone on the dance floor.

☁️ walked through the hallways and toward the glass double doors, waving down a bellman as he did so.

A few photographers stood behind red ropes, clicking their cameras immediately after ☁️ began descending quickly down the white staircase. A few began shouting out to him.

“Hey, ☁️! What’re you doing in The North?”

“Have you and the Park family finally made amends?”

“You look great tonight, ☁️!”

☁️ smiled and waved as a bellman pulled to the curb with his grey sports car, getting out as soon as ☁️ reached the sidewalk. The bellman handed the keys to the man as the two walked past each other, ☁️ then jumping into the drivers seat.

“Hey, Mr. ☁️. The programmer was able to stop in today.”

“That’s great, has everything been recovered?” ☁️ responded as he walked into his home, an associate beside him.

“He said he needed a password.”

“To the computer? Why didn’t you call or text me? Is he available tomorrow?”

“He’s still here, just using the bathroom. I’ll tell him you’ve arrived after you put your password in.”

☁️ looked over to the associate after hanging his suit jacket up.

“It’s midnight.”

“It’s the only time he could come this week.”

☁️ raised an eyebrow and walked to his chambers past the living quarters and down the hall. After his shoes tapped echoed through the hallway, he leaned into the double doors, pushing them open. The lamp on his desk was already turned on at the other end of the room. ☁️ also noticed that the associate was still behind him, him turning to the man before walking inside of the room. He was suspicious at this point, hearing more voices in the living quarters.

“Why don’t you go let the programmer know that I’m back. Please tell the other associates that they’re good to go, as well. I don’t need anybody here right now.”

“You want us to leave you alone with the programmer? What if he tries to-“

“That’s an order. I’ll see you tomorrow.” ☁️ narrowed his eyes, allowing his voice to become slightly belligerent.

The associate sneered and nodded, turning around and walking toward the living quarters. ☁️ sighed and closed the chamber doors behind him, walking toward the desk in front of the large stain-glass window. Bookshelves covered the left and right walls, and though the room wasn’t huge, the ceiling was very high up.

☁️ walked around the other side of the desk, sitting down and tapping the computer’s keyboard to turn the device on. He didn’t put his password in, choosing to wait for the programmer to arrive. Another thirty seconds passed before the oldest associate opened the room’s doors, walking in.

“☁️. Do you have a moment?”

“Where’s the programmer?”

“I think he’s still talking to the other associates. I think we should speak in the meantime.” The associate called out, standing at the door.

“Come.”

The associate strolled slowly over to the side of ☁️’s desk.

“What did you want to talk about.” ☁️ asked, giving the man his attention.

“You know, your father and I were extremely close. He entrusted me to do everything beside him.”

“Yes, I remember.” ☁️ nodded, tilting his head to the side.

“He also hated the Park family with every fiber of his being. And I know that you’ve been going out of your way to attend Seonghwa’s galas.”

“To support his charity and rebuild my family’s reputation. Yes.”

“Do you think that your father would’ve wanted this? To knock down the legacy that he has built?”

“Excuse me?” ☁️ snickered. He felt his body become tense, and his tone dull.

“I just think that with you as the head of this.. well, what used to be a mob group, you’ve dug our reputation into ground.”

☁️ felt his body heat up, making him stand up and grab the associate by the collar. The associate responded by pulling a gun out from his back pocket and pointing it at ☁️’s head. ☁️ exhaled and let go of the man’s collar, putting his hands to his sides.

“You need to give this up, ☁️. It’s in your best interest. Your father wouldn’t want this.”

“And his inability to be harmonious with other people is what got him killed.”

“Put your password into the computer so I can put this gun down.” The associate muttered, tapping the gun against ☁️’s head.

“No.”

“Please don’t make me do this.”

☁️ laughed.

“You’re not gonna have the password if you do ‘this.’”

“Don’t mock me.”

“Don’t be an idiot, then.” ☁️ laughed again, pausing before quickly shuffling to the side and knocking the gun out of the man’s hand. The gun landed on the desk and slid across it, falling off on the other side. ☁️ leaped over the desk and grabbed the gun before the man could snatch it, ☁️ then kicking his knee out while still on the ground. The associate quickly stood up and ran toward ☁️ as he got on one a knee. With a loud bang, ☁️ shot the pistol, hitting the associate in the leg. The man fell to the ground and clutched his knee.

“Fuck.” ☁️ muttered under his breath, putting the gun on safety mode and into his pocket. He grabbed his computer from the desk and threw it through the stained-glass window, shattering it. The door then slammed open, with a bunch of ☁️’s members running in. After seeing the older associate on the ground, the group whipped their guns out and pointed them at ☁️. The man was already halfway out of the window at this point, him having jumped through the hole and falling into the bushes below. With scrapes and bruises along his body, ☁️ rolled out of the bush and secured the laptop beside him- though he presumed it broken. He shot up and ran alongside the mansion’s side, hopping over the iron fencing as soon as he reached the front of the building. ☁️ considered taking one of his cars, but quickly realized that the keys were still inside.

Continuing to run through the forest, he eventually emerged into the city after a few minutes. ☁️ noticed a university campus in front of him as he wandered, him power walking through it and waving a taxi down. He ran to its side and jumped in, him recognizing the driver as he did so. The two stared at each other through the rear view mirror before the driver smiled.

“Oh, right- you’re ☁️. I worked a lot with your father.”

☁️ froze with his hand on the car’s handle, preparing to run out.

“Your family has helped mine out a lot. But anyway, where to?”

“Can you just drive, please?” ☁️ asked nervously, his hand still on the handle.

“Sure thing.”

The two drove in silence for a minute before the driver pulled up to a red light.

“You alright? You look pretty disheveled there, chief.”

“Yes, just some work issues.”

The driver chuckled. “Your dad had the same problem. I’d always wait a block or two away after he handled business, and he’d come running over with ripped clothing and red fists.” He paused. “I’m a bit relieved that the whole mob business thing is dying, though. I hope you don’t mind me saying that.”

☁️ pondered his words, repeating them in his head before responding. “..Yeah, I’m relieved as well. Can I bother you to drop me off in The North?”

“Oh, sure. I heard that you buried the hatchet with the Park family. That true?”

“I think that’s what I’m going to do now.”

“I see. Is there somewhere specific in the North?”

“Do you know where that gala was held today?”

“Oh yeah, I’ll have you there in a few.”

“Thanks.”

“Well, it’s an honor to help you through this last hurrah. I hope it goes well.”

“Thank you sir. How much do I owe you?”

“You don’t look like you have anything on you, respectfully. Just get me back next time you see me.”

☁️ nodded and slowly turned around toward the large building in front of him. There were no photographers, no red ropes, and no people wandering around at this point. With his computer under his arm, he began up the steps.

Upon walking through the glass doors, a receptionist was packing her belongings in a large purse.

“Oh, Mr. ☁️. Are you looking for the gala’s after party?” She asked as the man approached her desk.

“Ah- yes, I am. Can you tell me where it is?”

“It’s down the hallway to your left, the last door down. Also.. you’re bleeding a bit..”

☁️ looked down to where she pointed, seeing small patches of red stain through his white button-up shirt.

“Oh.. yeah, it’s just part of the outfit. Thank you though.”

“Oh, ok.. Have a goodnight.”

“You as well.”

☁️ continued down the dark hallway, stopping in front of a frosted glass door with loud music playing behind it. Streaks of blue, pink, and white flashed across the glass as he pushed the door open. The room was pretty big, with confetti and balloons spread across the floor. A group of around a hundred people danced in front of a smaller DJ booth, with a few wallflowers conversing amongst each other with glasses in their hands. ☁️ walked over to a table full of champagne glasses, grabbing one and sitting in the nearest seat against the wall. He plopped down, leaning his head against the wall and chugging the glass. He looked around, though couldn’t see Seonghwa from where he was. It didn’t help that the room was somewhat dim, with pink lights illuminating half of the room from behind the DJ. Spotlights also casted quick flashes on the dance floor, them occasionally dancing across ☁️’s body as he sat.

Choosing to calm down before searching for Seonghwa, he opened his computer and tapped the keyboard. Surprisingly, it survived the seven foot fall and still worked- the only flaw being a few cracks in the top corner of the screen and a few missing buttons on the keyboard. ☁️ sighed and placed the computer on his lap, him then closing his eyes.

“Psst. Hey, sleepy head.”

☁️ heard someone whisper from beside him, making him jump. He opened his eyes and looked to his left, seeing Seonghwa sitting beside him. He clutched his computer and looked around, seeing that everyone was preparing to leave the party. The music had stopped, and a few workers were vacuuming the carpet. Seonghwa’s face was barely visible in the dim, pink lighting, though his voice was softer than ☁️ had recalled. “So, you came back..?”

“…I think I need your help.” ☁️ hummed.

Seonghwa smirked. “I won’t rub it in your face even though I wanna. Do you need a place to stay?”

☁️ nodded, standing up as Seonghwa did. Seonghwa placed a hand on ☁️’s back, guiding him to the exit. The flashing lights turned into white spotlights that illuminated the exit at this point.

The two followed the crowd out of the room and down the hallway. As they walked out of the glass doors, ☁️ recognized the cars lined up on the sidewalk, with multiple bellman awaiting the guests at the bottom of the stairs.

“We’re all the way in the front.” Seonghwa stated, walking down the staircase with ☁️ and turning right down the sidewalk. A bellman approached the two, handing Seonghwa a pair of keys. He unlocked the red sports car and removed his hand off of ☁️’s back, hurrying in front of the man to open the vehicle door for him. ☁️ rolled his eyes and attempted to hide a smile as Seonghwa gestured him inside. As he sat down, ☁️ covered the patches of red along his top with his arms and hands. Seonghwa shut the door and ran to the other side, him hopping in and hurrying to start the car. After a few seconds, the two were speeding through empty city streets.

“Have you ever been to this part of The North?” Seonghwa asked with a tender tone, turning to ☁️ as he pulled into a lofty condo complex’s garage.

“This is my city. Of course I have.”

“Our city.” Seonghwa retorted.

☁️ smiled at the answer, opening his door after Seonghwa had parked on the highest level.

“We’ll have to take the elevator to the lobby, and then we’ll take a different one to my place.” Seonghwa stated from the other side of the car. ☁️ waited for Seonghwa to lead the way, but upon standing beside ☁️, the man froze.

“What the hell happened?! You’re bleeding.”

“I know.” ☁️ sighed, him having forgotten to cover the red stains.

“You’re explaining everything once we get inside.”

“Ok.”

Seonghwa linked his arm with ☁️’s, ☁️ speculating that Seonghwa thought he was too badly injured to walk by himself, which elicited the act.

The two quickly reached the elevator and stepped inside. With mirrors along the walls, a gold accent lined the corners of the elevator. Seonghwa leaned forward to press a button, and the two were soon moving up.

“Are you tired?”

“Extremely.” ☁️ replied monotonously.

“I could tell by your tone. You can take my bed and I’ll sleep in my guest room.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll take the guest room.”

“No. You can take the bigger bed.”

☁️ was too tired to argue back, instead choosing to lean against the mirror as the elevator continued. After a few more seconds, the door buzzed and the two walked through. The lobby’s lights were dim and the spacious room was empty. The men walked across the marble floor to another elevator, Seonghwa pressing the button again though the elevator doors opened immediately. The two walked through, and Seonghwa pressed the button of the highest number- 16.

“You’re on the highest floor?”

“Yes. It’s a penthouse with lots of windows , you’ll like it.”

The two stood silent for a few minutes until the elevator buzzed again, the men stepping out into a small walkway. Taking a few steps forward, Seonghwa flipped a switch, which turned on a small lamp above the two of them. He then pulled out his keychain, picking out a key and twisting it into the black door.

“After you.” Seonghwa said, gesturing ☁️ forward. Seonghwa’s penthouse was full of monotonous colors and exotic furniture- definitely a reflection of his personality. Small lamps lit the space as the two walked into the living room area. Large windows sat on each side of the walls, with the moon peering down from the large skylight above.

“I do like it.” ☁️ murmured as he moved his arm away from Seonghwa’s. Seonghwa simply smiled in response.

“Let me show you to the room.”

“Show me the guest room.”

“No.”

☁️ rolled his eyes, following Seonghwa down the end of the hallway. He switched his lamp light on, it illuminating the large bedroom. The walls, bedsheets, and furniture were all visually-pleasing shades of grey. The windows on the right side of the room touched both the floor and ceiling, stretching across most of the wall to reveal a beautiful view of the city. To the left, a door led into another room.

“Just sit on the bed. I’ll get you some new clothes and medical stuff.” Seonghwa instructed, walking into the bathroom. ☁️ walked to the bed and sat, him waiting for the man to come back out. After a minute, Seonghwa walked toward ☁️ with a small bottle, cotton balls, along with a roll of bandages and placed it beside ☁️. He then trudged over to the wardrobe across from his bed, opening it and throwing a pair of green and blue pajama pants with a white tee onto the bed.

“Those are old so they should fit you. Do you want me to get out while you change?”

“I don’t care, just turn around.” ☁️ replied taking off his pants and unbuttoning his top as Seonghwa faced his wardrobe. He threw the man’s pants on but put the tee around his neck, exposing some of his stomach and arms.

“Okay.”

Seonghwa turned around and sat on the bed. ☁️ pushed the shirt away from his arm for Seonghwa to clean.

“So, you gonna tell me what happened?”

“My associates tried to overthrow me and take over my company’s accounts. They said I wasn’t being a mob boss.”

“Is that where the letter was from?”

“I think they’ve been planning this for a few months now. They probably got ahold of my blood after your guys tried to take over my company’s building. Your goons show no mercy.” ☁️ chuckled, but Seonghwa frowned.

“I didn’t initiate that, by the way. That was my father, and we’ve.. talked about it.”

“It hasn’t happened again, so I don’t care.”

After a few seconds of silence, Seonghwa continued disinfecting, and then wrapping ☁️’s arm.

“So what specifically happened?” Seonghwa asked.

“Well, I got home from the gala. I was told someone was coming in to help me retrieve missing data from drives that were stolen after Ricky’s gala last week. I’m pretty sure they lied, and one of my guys cocked a gun at me and told me to unlock my computer so they could use the drives they stole. I didn’t do it obviously, and I ended up shooting him. The gun probably fell out of my pants when I jumped out of the window and ran into the city.”

“You jumped out of a window?” Seonghwa furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly worried. He wrapped the bandage around ☁️’s arm and clipped it so that it stood in place. ☁️ lifted his pant leg up to expose another cut, him then scooting back on the bed to put the cut beside where Seonghwa sat.

“Do you mind?” ☁️ asked, looking over to Seonghwa.

“Not at all.” He replied, preparing another cotton ball to use.

“And.. yeah, I kinda did. It was only six or seven feet and I landed in a bush. So it was fine. I used this to smash the glass.” ☁️ said, pointing to the computer that he placed beside him. “That’s why it’s fucked up.”

“I have another that you can use.” Seonghwa said as he applied alcohol to the cuts.

“I have important filled on there. I don’t know what I’m going to do just yet.”

The two remained quiet again until Seonghwa finished wrapping the wounds.

“Alright, you should be good.” He stated, grabbing the used cotton swabs and walking into the bathroom with them. ☁️ grabbed the alcohol bottle and roll of bandages, carrying them back into the bathroom for Seonghwa.

“It’s 2:30 in the morning. You should rest.” Seonghwa said, watching ☁️ sit back down on the bed, Seonghwa then walking to the lamp.

“Before you go-“ ☁️ blurted out, stopping Seonghwa.

“Hm?”

“Why’re you helping me?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean. Why’re you doing this for me?”

“Because I like you, despite the “conversations” we’ve had in the past. And we’re not like our parents.”

☁️ nodded.

“Sleep well.” Seonghwa called out, turning the light off.

“Wait-“

Seonghwa turned the light back on, exhaling. “Yes?”

“Sleep in your bed.”

“I already told you I’m sleeping in the guest room.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“Then move over.”

☁️ scooted back toward the wall with the windows so that Seonghwa could sit in front of him. Seonghwa leaned over to turn the lamp off before pulling the covers over the two of them.

“I’m glad you’re okay. I worried about you a lot.” Seonghwa muttered, him then turning his body to face ☁️.

“Shouldn’t have.” ☁️ murmured in response.

“Well, I did.”

☁️ smiled. “Well, thanks for worrying.”

Seonghwa smiled back, grabbing ☁️’s hand from under the blanket. “Do you mind?”

“No.” ☁️ hummed before turning his body around. He scooted his body back to lie against Seonghwa’s. Grabbing the man’s hand and pulling it over his waist, then two now laid together a spooning position.

“Goodnight, ☁️.” Seonghwa whispered.

“Goodnight.”

a/n: genuinely can’t tell if my stories are good anymore 😄 hope u enjoyed tho! alsoooo gonna be a part 2- just to follow up and see how the reader and seonghwa build a relationship together while the reader is still under the other mob’s protection. def gonna be more fluff and character development in that one!! there can be ❄️ if u guys want it bad enough lol

likes, comments, & reblogs r appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

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authorautism · 1 month ago

Text

3 Steps Behind

Summary: Omega!Shikamaru x GN!Alpha!Reader an omegaverse fic where Shikamaru and his obsession have the right people but the wrong timing. Passing by one another only to meet again.

@animeomegas [she created the concept of Nara's and their obsessions and I love her writing]

Word count: 3.9K

Warnings: NSFW, Omegaverse, Canon typical violence, Pining, The School Sex Talk

"Alright settle down class, that means you Naruto. Today we have a new student, a young prodigy who was moved up due to their skills." Iruka sensei introduces me to the class. I was only two years younger then the class and my height showed that. The eyes on me allowed me to fit into the mind space of a prodigy with ease, these were not my peers but more people I would prove myself better then. "They may be younger than you but don't let that discourage you from seeing them at the same level as you." Iruka sensi finishes as he points out a seat in the front for me to sit.

Shikamaru who wasn't paying attention before only now takes notice of their new classmate. 'A prodigy? They aren't from any clan I recognize…' He thinks to himself before becoming bored of pondering the newcomer, though he will admit to himself that something was interesting about them…

At lunch two girls, an alpha and an omega are quick to jump me, flinging many questions at me. "What techniques are you good at?" The blonde omega asks while the pink haired alpha asks "What's your alignment?" at the same time.

"I'm good at lots of stuff but I want to specialize in stealth techniques, and I don't know my alignment because I haven't grown into it yet…" I explained, caught off guard by the pink haired alphas question.

“Oh wow really? And they still let you join our class?" The blonde omega says more to herself than me, before being interrupted by the pink haired alpha.

"Anyways, I'm Sakura and that's Ino." Sakura introduces them both, as is expected of an alpha.

"Yeah, we'll be your cool big kid friends." Ino says with flair, making me smile. These two would be fun to hang out with.

"Alright."

Soon the two girls showed me their favourite pasttime: stalking this guy named Sasuke.

"We know you may not understand, pup, but Sasuke is the hottest, cutest alpha/omega." They say at the same time, "How many times do we have to go over this billboard brow?!" Ino yells. It seems she was on team Alpha while Sakura was on team Omega. "What do you mean, Ino-pig?! He literally smells like an omega!" Then they both turn toward you. "What do you think?!" They yell in sync.

"I can't tell; it must be because I'm still basically a pup and don't even have my own scent." I lie; I had a guess, but it was not worth the two fighting.

"Guess we'll never know." Ino laments as all her energy seems to leave her as she slumps down. I'm rather surprised their yelling didn't attract any attention.

"We'll find out, and I know how." Sakura says, with a sly grin and a look in her eyes spelling trouble. She goes over her plans for tomorrow, and we return to finish the rest of class.

Going home from eventful days is always interesting. Iruka Sensi made me stay later to talk about my progress thus far; apparently, it was possible for me to graduate before my new class already. Though that must be more because of the war than anything. I passed by a blonde omega boy on the swing; he seems lonely. Oh well, I have my own things to deal with.

Unbeknownst to me, when I walk into class the next day, it seems Sakura and Ino have talked about me. Their eyes still linger on me as I walk in. I make eye contact with a neutral face well for the most part till I lock eyes with a boy whom Ino seemed to be lecturing. He's Nara, right? I mean, they are a pretty well known clan, unlike me. A natural-born and made prodigy. and not one of luck like me. In his eyes, the weakest embers of challenge and of being upstaged burn, but for the most part he seems disinterested. I was going to take my seat from last class when Sakura calls me over to sit with her and what I assume to be Ino, then class begins.School is easy; it always has been. Sakura agrees with me to a degree, while Ino frowns at us. Iruka Sensi is a good teacher despite the lonely blonde omega boy's outbursts.

"After lunch, we'll be sparring." Iruka Sensi announces dismissing us. This sadly fits perfectly into Sakura's plan from yesterday. I really did not want to be part of it.

"This works perfect! Don't you think, Pup?" Sakura asks excitedly, and I sigh as Ino squeals in delight. "So you're gonna fight Sasuke, and hopefully you're good enough to get him sweating, at which point we'll get his scent and know for sure." Sakura says as I nod along, "It's no use telling them that the old myth of scents is false.

Now face to face with the popular boy known as Sasuke, I quickly pick up two things, or rather confirm them: he's an Uchiha, and he is pissed at the idea that I may be better than him. Better not mess around with this. The fight begins. We're only allowed to use taijustu in the interest of being safe and sharpening that skill. Blows are exchanged quickly. Sasuke is no doubt stronger than me, and maybe even faster too. But he leaves holes in his defense and has poor weight distribution as he kicks. So after long enough for some sweat to show on both of us, I finally took him down by grabbing his kick and flipping him to the ground.

Everyone seems rather stunned for a second, all except for him the Nara, who's barely paying attention; actually, he's asleep? Iruka Sensi is the first to break away from his shock, declaring me the winner as Sasuke stands up angrily, staring at me with a frown. "Beginners luck." He says this while walking away, where some other girls are asking him if he's alright. While Ino and Sakura are all but snorting the air, trying to get his scent. Gross.

"Happy?" I ask the two, who both grin, having figured it out. "He definitely smells like an alpha/omega!" They yell once again conflicted while I facepalmed.

Class falls into the same category. Ino and Sakura continue to refer to me as Pup and drag me into their ridiculous plots against Sasuke. While Iruka sensi throws everything he can at me in terms of education. Well all except the Nara boy, when I asked Sensi why I hadn't spared him he simply stated he couldn't force Shikamaru to do it. Shikamaru was his name then? When he did have to participate, I found myself watching him from a distance for some reason; something about him made me nervous and shy. And, to my luck my two friends were quick to notice, and who were they to let the pup they took in suffer in a one-sided crush?

What I had assumed to be a normal lunch was quickly proven wrong as I watched Sakura and Ino all but push me towards Shikamaru; he seemed just as confused as me by the look on his face. His scent is nice; it smells like the plants that have suffered a terrible drought only to now be granted a cooling rain after months of blistering heat and suffering. Though under that is the smell of a carefully brewed white tea delicate yet potent. I feel my face heat. I was never one to pay much attention to the others scents, but with Shikamaru, it was different.

"What are you doing, Ino?" He asks, rubbing the back of his neck idly.

"Oh, I just wanted to make sure you met the Pup; you know, show them you're not some cool, quiet kid." Ino taunts, making Sakura laugh while I fumble for my own words.

"Hello." What the hell was that? I berate myself mentally.

"Yeah, hi. I'm gonna go now." And with that, Shikamaru takes his leave.

Both girls turn towards me while I use my hands to cover my face. "It seems Pup really does have a crush." Ino teases while Sakura tells me to cheer up: "After all, you can try again with him."

A week of me avoiding Shikamaru doesn't go unnoticed by the two girls I call my friends, even though me avoiding Shikamaru didn't change my routine too much. The teasing begins as soon as I enter the class.

"So, Pup, we couldn't help but notice you avoiding your boyfriend." Ino teases, lengthening the words as my cheeks heat.

"What are you on about?"

"Yeah, Pup, did you and Shikamaru have a falling out?" Sakura joins in the teasing.

"I don't even know him." I was exasperated as I ignored their prompting and sat down at our desks.

"Come on, Pup, no need to be shy after all; you know our crush." Ino says she puffs out her cheeks as she sits too.

"Yeah, so just admit it." Sakura adds, sitting in the seat beside me with Ino at my other side.

"There's nothing for me to admit."

"Wait, are you being like this because he's your first ever crush, Pup?!" Ino asks loudly as I shush her quickly.

"That's totally it, oh my god." Sakura says, and I can tell she starts thinking of a plan, or rather, a scheme, that involves me and Shikamaru.

Thankfully, class begins with a rather uncomfortable lesson. All my classmates have presented so it only made sense to have this lesson but I did not make it any less awkward.

"Alright today we're covering dynamics and mating, so be mature." Iruka sensi says as a few people laugh but he's quick to glare them down into silence. Then the awkward omega and alpha's talk began. Iruka sensi quelled any mocking laughter and answered questions before a knock at the door was heard.

"Perfect you're right on time Shikaku, I really appreciate you coming to talk about your clan." Iruka sensi says scratching his cheek, the higher ranked male made him nervous.

"It's no issue, best they know in class, any of them become my son's obsession." With those words, nearly the entire class, including myself, had their gaze fixed on Shikamaru. His face was flushed, but he pretended not to hear.

"Allow me to explain; some of you may be familiar with some clans having quirks, to say the least. Such as Inuzuka, being a very fruitful clan due to their connection with Nin-ken. The Nara's have something in that same vein called obsessions; when a Nara meets their obsession, it's life-changing and all-encompassing. This tells them who their perfect and only mate is. That's all you kids need to worry about." Shikaku finishes his explanation with a nod and leaves. The classroom is quiet before the blonde boys outburst breaks this atmosphere.

"Hey, Shikamaru, why didn't you tell anyone about that?" As our Sensi sighs, he yells, standing up, and soon the rest of the class joins in loud agreement. This new information has solidified my belief that my silly "crush" was doomed from the start. From now on, it was all about class and becoming an amazing ninja.

Throughout the next month and a half leading up to my early graduation, Ino and Sakura tried to get me to approach Shikamaru, but I avoided all their attempts with varying amounts of effort. I stood in front of the pair after class, ready to break the news that I was moving up and onward. That I would even participate in the Chunin exams soon too. I knew it was temporary, but yet I find myself hesitating just for a moment. Whether it was because of my two friends or my first crush, I did not think more about the topic.

"I graduated early, so this is our goodbye." After I said those words, the pair tackled me into a hug, knocking the breath from my lungs in one quick move.

"Oh, Pup, we're going to miss you." Ino says, putting her face on my shoulder as she wraps around me.

"Yeah, we really will, Pup." Sakura agrees, her face buried into the hair at the top of my head. Though I would never admit it to the two I would miss them too. Time seemed to start moving at light speed; after that, I was placed on a gennin team that had lost a member and then never truly accepted me as a member during my time with them I finally presented. An Alpha my Sensi said I was lucky, but I never felt lucky. My pup scent went away as my alignment took effect. Many changes happened: scars and wounds, tactics, and new jutsus. But even still, I outgrew my team. After passing the Chunin exams quickly, I was assigned to deep undercover Anbu, and with it a new name: Kōmori, the bat tricky to take down in the night yet finding ease in manoeuvring in the dark. Rather fitting due to my stealth specialization.

The missions are dangerous, but when my team gets placed as a plants in Sunagakure, we finally settle; things are rocky there, and Lord Third wants us to keep an eye on things. Suna becomes familiar as years pass, my team watches as their fifth Kazekage takes over. He's young, but I can make no comment on that myself. Eventually, we are sent back to Konohagakure, now under the new Hokage Tsunade.

Two more years pass all of my missions are assassinations, though a new member of my team, a suspected nepotism member, by me and the other members. Quickly decides that my time in Anbu is done, and I find little resistance against this. The slaughtering and the fights have worn me down, night terrors becoming commonplace in my sleep. Though a small part of me that I thought was gone lost to the cruel, unfeeling ninja I had become wonder about mates and pack, and wants that so badly.

Lady Tsunade grants me the rank of Jonin after reading through my file. Then I'm set up with lodging and asked to take it easy and adjust to village life after years of anything but. I am quick to tell the news of my staying to my Dam and Sire; I have visited them many times during my Anbu deployment, but it felt much more personal when I visited with news that I would be in the village full time for at least two weeks. They're happy for me asking questions about where I'm staying, what my plans are, the usually parental things, though soon my Dam mentions the thing I have been dreading.

"So dear, anyone you have you eye on for a mate now that you're gonna be in the village so much?" Dam asks glee in their tone.

"Baby, you can't just ask them that; they've only been in the village for what-a day or two? Wait a week and then we'll have news." My Sire chides happily.

"It's not like that," I pout, packing up the leftovers and fruits they gifted me as I make my escape.

"That child." They sigh.

I wander the streets at night, as despite the changes I still mostly look like me, though more grown up in ways when I am out for things during the day, a few villagers stop me to confirm that I really am that "Big shot village kid turned ninja," though that's mostly light jeering. During one such rare daytime excursion, I see him after all these years, my heart rate speeds up slightly before I rein myself in. Shikamaru is walking through the market opposite of me, list in hand, as he walks his eyes on the list. Before his attention is on me with an almost break neck snap. I'm stunned by the speed of his focus shift we lock eyes for several beats, the noise of the market is lost to me as I stare before I break eye contact.

"Hey, long time no see." I say, feeling awkward as he keeps staring at me. His gaze is intense and focused, a look I never saw during our brief academy time together.

"Its you," Shikamaru finally says. He seems astounded by this observation, and just as quickly his face flushes a bright red.

"Come with me." He says as he leads us away from the market and to a quieter area, following behind him, I catch his scent after the many years away from it. The familiar smell of rain-soaked plants and delicate white tea is strong in my nose, I am quick to gather that he's happy and excited. My heart leaps at the cause being me, while my mind rations that, that makes no sense.

Shikamaru says my name, seeing that my attention isn't on him, "You remember that lesson where my dad came in, right?" He asks once my focus is on him, the flush still on his face but lighter now he stands close to me, making it easy to smell and hear him.

"Yeah, wait are you saying that..."

"Yes, how I didn't know then is troublesome." He says frowning slightly before looking at me once more.

"Well, I hadn't presented at the time, and we weren't exactly close." At my words, he frowns more and whines, catching us both in surprise.

Shikamaru clears his throat before speaking again, "Where have you been?" He asks, but I can tell he has more questions then that on his mind.

"I was part of the Anbu till very recently." I answer honestly. "But that's behind me now..."

"I see..." He trails off with a frown before shaking his head as if to say troublesome once again. "When did you get back to the village?"

"Not very long just a handful of days really. It's been a big adjustment to say the least." I explain with a shrug Shikamaru's frown goes away quickly at my words and now I notice that he's slow inching closer towards me a slight flush on his face.

"Did you miss me..?" He asks his tone quieter as the same intense look in his eyes though with a more airy quality. It was very reminiscent of when Ino and Sakura would look at Sasuke but at least a thousand times more intense.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Nervous with the attention from my childhood crush turned obessioness? What was the right way to describe that perhaps simply my Nara no that felt too intense. I end my train of thoughts as I notice said Nara in question fidget a bit.

"What do you mean?" He asks seeming genuinely confused.

"It's the most intense way anyone has looked at me before." I explain he steps back at my words.

"Is it too much?" He asks nervous tears dotting at his eyes as he attempts to look away from me rather poorly.

"No, I actually find it really comforting." I explain with a smile. The way Shikamaru's face light up left me feeling fuzzy and accomplished.

After that day I was once again briefed on obsessions though this time in the Nara compound main house seated in the tea room across from Shikaku with Shikamaru sitting right beside me or rather on top of me at this point. As his dad explains the importance of taking things slowly so Shikamaru can acclimate properly I feel said omega freeze up.

"Now don't look at me like that." Shikaku scoffs a frown on his face.

"You can't even let go of them as is right now this is certainly more intense then with you mother." He sighs.

Though his words only stress out the omega more, he quickly turns to me for comfort, a barely concealed whine bubbles up his throat.

"Shika I'm sure it will all go fine I mean I've been gone for years before this and you were fine." I explain trying to be gentle I can tell the nickname worked but bringing up my prior absence brought as back to square one.

"No." Shikamaru says moving his face into my neck to start huffing my scent his father sighs once more leaving us alone in the tea room.

"Shika," I start again more cautious; "we have to do this ok I'll be right here with you ok." I coo to him which works perfectly as he removes his face from my neck to actually look at me.

"Promise?" He asks. "Pinkie promise." I say with a grin holding out my pinkie for him the promised now sealed we begin the regiment. If Shikamaru skips a day we have to start over so I make sure to remind him that we must be the first couple to complete this first try.

The first days are deceptively easy as Shikamaru is allowed to see me six hours the first day and one less each day after. When we reach the day where he isn't allowed to see me at all I can tell even though I haven't seen him yet today that he'll break. For his peace of mind I told him I was staying in my apartment all of the day, but surely an unprompted stroll wouldn't count.

Out walking I run into Naruto and Sakura returning from a mission, said woman screams in glee when she sees me charging at me full force. Just able to prep myself for the hug least we both topple over I smile as well. It had been too long.

Sakura also knowing this barrages me with questions of when I got back and if I was staying and such other things. Naruto makes his way to us saving me from Sakura's never ending questions.

"Good to see you." He says with the same grin he always wears though me and Naruto hadn't been close he would often praise me for beating Sasuke and would cheer for me when we'd spar.

"You too so much has changed around the village since I've been gone." I say as the three of us chat about what we've been doing and future plans. I feel eyes on me or rather the eyes of none other then Shikamaru.

"You know I know you're there." I say cutting off Sakura as she was telling me about the new kunai she bought.

"Who's where?" Naruto asks, looking around for anyone out of place.

"Shikamaru." I say both explaining and calling the omega out who comes out from his hiding place fuming. Well that's not the reaction I was expecting.

"Shika?" I question but his attention is on Naruto as he walks over growling and snarling.

"Oh I suppose I forgot to mention that I'm Shikamaru's obsession and that you two should probably leave now." I explain my tone not betraying the true anxiety I felt now. Quickly recalling what to do if Shikamaru had a jealousy flareup I begin pumping out my scent to try and cover up any omega scents on me.

"WHAT!?" The pair yell before Sakura drags Naruto away and the two book it. This gets another snarl from Shikamaru as he readies to chase after before I grab his arm carefully.

"Shika you're not leaving me your alpha are you?" I ask putting empathises on the fact that he had me. This works perfectly as said omega freezes in place before a whole body shiver overtakes him.

"Take me home." His voice just below a whisper and he moans softly clutching onto me now his grip intense on my arm.

#shikamaru nara #naruto shikamaru #shikamaru x you #shikamaru x reader #x reader #gn reader #omegaverse #omega!shikamaru #alpha!reader #nara obsessions #fluff

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slowlydifferentbluebird · 7 months ago

Text

Dreams come true - Aespa High school Au- Day one

Hey, long time no see people. This is dropping out of nowhere, but this afternoon I felt incredibly inspired so this is the result of some hours of works. I always wanted a long serie involving a gender neutral Reader X Aespa. I would define this as romance/slice of life. The idea is about an on going serie, but it depends but you people, so let me know what you think about it throw comments, asks, DMs, whatever, I just need a good feedback. Maybe in the next parts I will talk about this project more, but for now enjoy and good read🫶❤️

"Oh man, I can't believe you're finally here. Do you even know how much I dreamed about going to school together? This is so freaking dope!", Mark exclaimed, jumping around you, all excited and hyper about your presence. And indeed,it was a dream coming true for both. Mark has been one of your best friends since the childhood and, even if at one point you start living in two different countries, yours friendship never changed. Just when both of you already gave up on the idea of living in the same city again, a miracle happened: you won a scholarship because of your grades. So now here you are, in your new uniform, on the street, directed towards the first day of your new school life.

It was exciting, very pressuring, but definitely exciting, as a proper first day of high school should be. Meeting new friends, new teachers, maybe even love? All these thoughts were spinning in your mind and you were so thankful that your best man was there to make everything easier. Mark was an extroverted, funny and good-looking boy, so you were sure you would have been an easy way into the class dynamics. And well...you were right: you were not entered in class yet and he already introduced you to Taeyong and Johnny. They were so funny and you immediately clicked with them. You had the hunch that this year was going to be fun.

Your entrance in the building was eye-catching since day one: backpack kept on just one shoulder, hands in the pockets and three of the most popular boys chatting and laughing with you. More than a student looked at you confused, asking to each other who the new face was. On the hallway of the second floor, where your class was, you were telling Tae of that time when Mark was so scared of an horror movie that he almost pissed himself off, when suddendly someone started running in your direction. "Oh my God, you're finally here", a girl voice screamed in your ear, making you deaf for few seconds, while launching her arms to your neck, pulling you in the most affectionate embrace of the last years.

You had not to see her face to recognize that voice; the voice who kept you company every night, the voice who shared all her secrets with you, the voice that sounds like home to you. "Aeri, I'm happy to see you too, but please stop choking me", you chuckled against her torso, while she kept squealing and squeezing you. If Mark was one of your best friends, Aeri was the definitely the other one. Honestly you know her through Mark, because back in the days you needed someone as nerdy and appasionate about manga and anime as you, so for Mark it was natural to make you two meet, even if just online. Considering that it was your first time meeting in real life, the affectionate behaviour of the girl was more than justified.

"Oh, you're the usual tsundere, such an idiot", she commented, letting you finally go, but still showing her brightest smile. Of course this scene got attentions and reactions. "Man, I wish Giselle would squeeze me too against her ches-", the desire of Johnny was interrupted by a slap on the neck of Tae, a scene that already smells like routine. "Aeri? Did I hear correctly?", a petite girl with blonde short hair appeared from behind your best friend smirking. "Yes, Aeri. How am I supposed to call her if not with her name?", you answered her, confused, looking at the two girls like if you were missing a piece. "No, you're right, Aeri is her name, indeed, but apparently she's too cool for that, she prefers that we call her Giselle", the blondie explained, taking a good look at you. "Stop it!", the japanese scolded her friend, slapping her arm. "Don't listen to Minjeong, she talks like that, but we all call her Winter here", she added, introducing finally the name of the other girl. "Uh? Winter? Is that because you like the season?", you asked, trying to find a sense to that odd name. "No, it's just because she's a cold bitch", Aeri immediately replied making you wheeze and receive a slap back from Minjeong.

After all the chaos of the past minutes, you all went into the class, because the lessons were about to start. However another moment of confusion got you inside: no one was taking a seat or leaving their stuff. "You look adorable when you are confused", Aeri teased you, pinching your cheek. "Leave my bestie alone, it would be confusing for everyone. Listen to me, this school has a weird tradition: the first day our seats are decided through a draw, in this way we avoid fights for the best spots and we're encouraged to interact with new people or some shits like that", Mark explanation was totally in his stile but at least the concept was clear. It looks like your dream about sitting with one of your best friends was destinated to remain a dream. You shrugged, whatever, you were just happy of being in the same class and you wanted to make friendship with everyone anyway.

Miss Sunny, your homeroom teacher, arrived soon enough and after introducing you to the class quickly, she immediately started the draw. Every name called got a reaction from the whole classroom. The most fun part was when Johnny and Tae were picked to seat together, making both of them curse under their breath, it was the fourth year in a row as deskmates. Another interesting pick, probably just for you, was when Mark and Aeri became deskmates too; you for sure didn't expect them to sit together. But honestly you were too busy thinking about your own fate: all the people you met were already picked, even Winter was already called. "The next student is...drum rolls...oh! The new arrived!", miss Sunny exclaimed, making everyone fix their gaze on you. You were still acting cool and nonchalant, but all that attention was killing you inside. "Let me see, where can you seat? Mhh, even if you're acting all tough, you seem a good kid...alright, go seat in the third row, on the window side. I'm giving you a coveted place, so study hard to thank me", your teacher decided, smiling at you warmly. Everyone in the class seemed to love miss Sunny and you were starting to get the reason: she was solar, funny but not nosy. You can feel the affection and love she had for her students and viceversa, even a crazy head like Mark seemed to respect her.

You went to seat, letting you go on the chair lazily, already exhausted from those attention, but relieved that the worst part was gone...probably. That scene alone made Mark and Aeri chuckle and giggle, you were just so...you in their eyes, every action screamed your essence and personality. For example everyone attached their backpack to the back of the chair, but not you, you just left it on the floor. You didn't even think about it, you were just curious 'bout your deskmate, and it was about to be decided. "And next to the new student...drum rolls...Ningning! Finally our youngest came out!", Sunny announced, reading the piece of paper she picked from the box. A short girl with brown hair collected in a neat ponytail shyly walked towards you, holding tightly her satchel. She was clearly embarassed and she said nothing nor looked at you until the teacher went ahead with the draw.

"N-nice to meet you...I'm N-ningning, but you can call me Ning if you want...I'm the youngest of our class so please take g-good care of me", she introduced herself with a soft voice, stealing glances of your figures at the end of every sentence. For some reason that made you feel at ease, it's not like you were glad about her embarassment, but meeting someone more shy than you gave you like a sense of peace. "The pleasure is mine...Ning. Let's be good friends from today, alright?", you spoke with a soft tone, offering her a kind smile and that had probably a good effect on the younger girl, because immediately seemed to have less difficulty in looking at you, furthermore the tiniest smile appeared on her lips. "Oh, wait, your name...you have to be the friend of Gigi", the tiny girl commented, realizing that your name was too familiar to be a case. "Gigi? Oh, you mean Aeri, I already forgot that here she is called this way...however yeah, I'm her best friend", you nodded, stealing a glance of your bestie, who seemed interested in your convo with Ning, even if you doubted that she could hear anything. "That's very good know. I'm very close to Gigi too, so any friend of hers is also a friend of mine", she concluded, finally showing you a proper smile, and damn if it was cute.

The first few hours of lesson flew away easily, it was more an introduction of the programs of the various subjects and some news regarding the school in general; for someone like you who was used to take few notes, you didn't even have the need of opening your backpack. Your antics surprised someone in the class, they made also raise more than an eyebrow, but probably they just had to get used to you. Talking about the class in general, you were not a lot of students, 15 to be precise, and in a way or another you already met and talked to like half of them, it was definitely a good number for your first day, at least in your standard. Ning was cuter and more comfortable with you at every chance of conversation, Winter, even if introduced as cold, was actually very funny, she always had a ready answer; Johnny and Tae were a constant show, always bickering and making the class laugh, meanwhile Aeri and Mark got you covered in every occasion, you just needed to look at them and the problem was already vanished.

One person though catched your eye fast enough: it was a beautiful and pale girl with long and black hair; despite her good look, it was not that the reason of your interest: you actually got her looking in your direction more than once. Now, you were not the type of person who starts to talk with strangers, but you had to ask her if it was all good. So, during the first moment of pause, you got up and walked towards her, gathering all the courage a shy ass like you could collect. "Ehm...hi, sorry to bother you, but I noticed that you looked at me frequently, so...do you need something?", you asked, trying to sound as nice as possible, you didn't want to be rude or anything, you were just curious. "Oh, I...", the girl looked at you, completely surprised, almost shocked by the fact she got caught. "...I was not looking at you, I just want your place", she blurted out, trying to escape from the embarassing situation. "Do you want...to sit next to Ning?", the tone of voice during your question was clearly disorientated by her reason. "What? No...I meant your place next to the window: I like to watch outside during the classes so...", the pretty girl explained herself, letting out an embarassed laugh at the end. Why does she always have to end up in these situations?

"Don't mind her, Karina is just a loser in a hot girl body, you'll get used to her soon", Aeri reassured you, while sitting on a table of the cafeteria. "She's actually one of my closest friend here with Minjeong and Ning. I wish that you could have met her in better circumstances, but it's fine, it's still pretty normal for her standards", she shrugged, taking a bite of her lunch. Somehow that info made you feel a tiny bit guilty, you didn't want to make her life harder or similar, maybe later you could have tried to apologize. "Winter, Ning, Karina...how many best friends you have, I guess my best friend role is pretty common", you teased her with an evil smirk. "Yah, you dummy! That's not true, you know that you're special", she scolded you, starting to hit your shoulder lightly. Now that you were finally living her, you were noticing how much she physical and affectionate she was; she has always been sweet and kind online, but this was a different level. However you were not complaining about it.

"Aww, the special friend, you could have said that best friend meant girlfriend", Winter joined the teasing squad, while joining your table with Mark. "Oh, shut up! We are just best friends, I told you", Giselle complained, throwing a bit of food to her friend, to hide how hard she was blushed. "Excuse me? Best friend? That person right there is MY bestie, so please keep your dirty hands away, thank you", Mark said, making Aeri gasp, indignant. "Shut up too, Mark Lee! You may even be the person who made this friendship born, but now our connection is way stronger and deeper. And what have you said about my hands? No, because I'm about to smack your dumb face with these and then...", the war of the best best friend was already started and you playfully rolled your eyes back, knowing that this discussion would be part of your daily life from that moment. "This is all your fault", you accused Winter, pointing your plastic fork towards her, while laughing. "Divide et impera, my dear", the blondie laughed back, before winking at you.

On your way back to class you let the other three go ahead, you stopped to a vending machine, buying a snack for apologizing to Karina. With poor nonchalanche. you placed it on her desk, coughing to get her attention. "So, yeah...this is for...before...because...you know...". Why was apologizing that hard for you? You just had to say sorry, and instead you were there blocked, looking like a complete idiot. "Thank you", Karina said smiling, interrupting your rambling, "you didn't have to, it was my fault, but I really appreciate it", she added with a calm tone. In that moment the loser was missing, it was the hot girl talking to you. "Oh, well, let's just forget that silly episode and become friends", you proposed, looking down to hide your red cheeks. "Friends? Sounds good to me, call me Jimin then", she accepted, caressing softly your hand as proof, and you really used all your will to not scream. Jimin really shocked you, you didn't expect her to have this deadly dualism, your heart was definitely beating faster.

You returned to your seat, still recovering from that unexpected interaction. And yet it was not the moment to relax, because Ning was looking at you with a demanding stare. "Well? What about me?", she asked, making you mind go blank. You started to blink your eyes non-stop, giving her the signal you had no idea of what she was talking about. "What about my snack? You took one for Karina but not for me, your deskmate?", she asked, scoffing and crossing her arms. "No, Ning, wait, I-", your explanation was interrupted by the fact the Ning suddendly stood up and that really made you panic, you didn't want to create a case your first day. "No, Ning, listen, it's not as you seem, it's because first it happened a thing, let me just explain-", you were interrupted again, this time by her laugh. Ning seated again, laughing so loudly that the whole class turned their heads in yours direction. "Oh my God, look at your face, the fear in your eyes is so funny", she said, holding her stomach. You looked towards your two best friends, searching for a sense of all that: Mark just shook his head while Aeri mouthed "she's a bit crazy". "Oh my God, I'm so sorry, it was just a little prank, you are not mad at me, right?", she asked, whiping away her tears and honestly you were about to give her a lesson, but then she leaned towards you and put her face on your shoulder, giving you puppy eyes. You sighed, giving up: her cuteness made you weak, maybe soon or later you will be able to resist to pretty girls.

It was long and tiring, especially on a mental level but your first day of lessons got to an end. Your social battery was so low, you just wanted to go home and rest. Mark and Gigi proposed you to hang out after school but honestly they knew so well that you were going to refuse, but it was still worthy to give a try. They at least got permission from you to take you home, or better, to the small apartment you were going to live for the next year. All the people you met that day were funny, interesting and shit but it was nice to spend your time with just your best friends. They brought till in front the door of your apartment and, after trying to enter without success, they finally went home too, but not before a last hug: Mark hug was very brotherly, while Aeri just squeezed you again. You went in, plopping on the small couch and looking at the rooftop. It was just the first day and you were already exhausted, but why then couldn't you stop to smile and be eager for the next day?

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