#and then shoot off down the hall into another room | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kesadoll · 4 hours ago

Text

♡ CWS MDNI 3.8k ♡ brattyblack!reader, boss!shiu, coworker!toji, oral {f + m}, unprotected, d♡ggy, poor y/n gets manhandled over shiu's desk, it gets NASTY. {petnames: doll, baby, brat, slut. ♡}

♡ sum. you came back from a mission to get sent off on another, but before you went your boss & coworker had something to say about your attitude...

kesa's note just wanted to let it be known I made about 4 other drafts after this one but ended up coming back to this..... but it fed something in me i didn't know was hungry LMAOO i hope u like it :p asks & reblogs always welcome!

you walked down a series of halls, each step you took feeling like it drained what little energy you had left. you were covered in what you could only assume was blood, sweat, and mud.

see, you were…a spy of sorts. you’d go gather intel, beat up, and maybe kill someone if you were tasked to, maybe even just for fun. you were a wildcard and a headache for your poor boss, shiu.

you walked into his office, plopping yourself on the large couch that sat in the middle of the room and sprawling out. shiu was there, smoking his usual cigarette, shooting a glance at you as he tidied up some papers. “someone needs a shower,” he said, gesturing over to your dirtied clothes and the way your hair curled at your neck from sweat, his baritone like music to your ears.

you wanted to protest, but you knew better. talking back to shiu usually meant some type of harsh and unreasonable punishment, and you were far too exhausted so you resorted to a grumble. his gaze softened, seeing the exhaustion on your face. he felt guilty for sending you to a job by yourself, but he knew you could do it which is why he sent you anyway.

shiu took a long drag of his cigarette, smoke billowing from between his lips as he exhaled, “it was that bad?”

you nodded faintly, huffing, “didn’t think it would be soooo much work..” he chuckled at your pouting, finding it amusing. it was rare to see you in such a state, but you were much calmer than you usually were, and it saved shiu the headache.

he ashed his cigarette over the fancy-looking ashtray on his desk as he spoke, “you’re capable, that’s why i let you take the job. besides..” he paused, blowing a cloud of smoke towards you, “if you couldn’t handle it, you would’ve been dead the minute you walked in there.”

you lifted your head, your usual wide eyes sending metaphorical lasers right through shiu’s head. this was your normal attitude, kinda crazy and a tad ditzy, but you were extremely lethal and beyond just smart. “mmmh!” you grumbled, resting your head back again, “they almost made me lose a nail!”

shiu let out a sigh, shaking his head slightly at your usual attitude. sometimes, he wondered who's the bigger pain in the ass: you or him. he stubbed out his cigarette on the table, watching as the ashes fall to the floor. he leaned back on his chair, crossing his arms over his chest, a small smirk on his face, "you know, someday that crazy attitude of yours is gonna be the death of you."

“or you’re gonna be the death of me!” you kicked your legs, practically throwing a fit in your seat. “you’re the one who hired me off the street and sent me off to do your dirty work!” after his laugh filled the room, you went limp, being a total drama queen. “what was the main point of me going there anyway?”

he rolled his eyes at your dramatics, but he couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook his head. “it’s like you never listen to a thing i tell you. i sent you to get intel on some freeloaders that crossed someone important. they’ve gone off the radar and i’m tired of hearing about it.”

“oh yeah!” you recounted, remembering what you came in here to tell shiu, “apparently the guy you wanted ran off to some island i’ve never heard about before. i wrote it down before i dealt with those mangy-lookin’ henchmen.” you pulled a small piece of paper out the pocket of your shorts. you couldn’t help but stretch momentarily, the exhaustion starting to get to you before you began to walk over to him.

shiu’s eyes wandered up and down your body, as you sauntered over towards him. you looked like a wreck, but still beautiful nonetheless.

“goddamn it.” he grumbled, snuffing out his cigarette before grabbing another one. he offered you one, knowing that sometimes after a mission like that you needed it more than he did. “i’ll send someone else to follow up then.”

you couldn’t help but pout, shaking your head at the cigarette as you sat on the desk in front of him. “why can’t i go?!” your voice was almost a whine.

shiu placed a comforting hand on your knee, its scarred digits giving it a gentle squeeze. despite how annoying you could be, you were cute, which made it worse knowing how you got his attention. “let’s use our critical thinking skills. you think i’m going to let you go to some island by yourself?”

he did have a fair point. he wanted as much information about where he was going to send you and since this was a new area and there were time constraints? going by yourself was absolutely out of the question. though you wanted to go, you loved how shiu protected you always.

“you could come with me! i’ve never gotten to see you in action,” you squeaked in defiance, trying to hide the heat you felt in your cheeks at his touch, “i bet you we both could deal without them no problem!”

shiu chuckled at your determination, his hand moving up your thigh slightly. you acted like a spoiled brat, and he found it endearing especially since he knew it was his fault anyway. he lit his new cigarette and took a long drag, smoke billowing from between his lips as he spoke.

“you know i can’t do that, doll,” his dark eyes bore into yours, the nickname causing you to catch your breaths moving faster, “and what if you get hurt, huh? who’s gonna take care of you then?”

“mmmnnn….the nice nurses down the hall, they’re really good!” you giggled nervously, taking off your thigh holster so you’d be able to break eye contact with him. it wasn’t very often the two of you got to spend time together like this, but when you did you tried to soak up as much of it as you could before you got too nervous to even be sitting next to him.

out of the corner of your eye, you noticed he was smirking, his hand moving up your thigh again. despite how much he teased you knowing how you’d melt, he enjoyed the closeness himself and he always tried to let you know, even if it was subtle.

shiu glanced down at the holster you placed on the table, his hand moving to your waist, his thumb rubbing small circles, “i’ll make you a deal. you can go, but he has to go with you.” before you could even process the way his large hand fit perfectly on your hip your eyes shot up at him, almost shouting in protest, but you stopped yourself knowing if you did you wouldn’t be able to go at all.

the “him” in question was fushiguro toji, a coworker of yours you swore was your enemy. the two of you worked together once, and you hoped you never had to again. he was incredibly hot (and the two of you were a breath away from lips touching), yes, but he was an asshole and acted like he hated everything, which wasn’t far from the truth.

a door opened behind you and your eyes narrowed at shiu, realizing he had planned to send you off with toji the whole time. “the two of you will be working together,” shiu said, blowing smoke from his lips again, not at all moving his hand from your hip.

toji grunted, looking back and forth between shiu and the back of your head. “don’t wanna, but i’m here.”

“great, you didn’t have much of a choice anyway.” shiu said, trying to comfort you by squeezing your waist before he stood. toji truly hated working with others, but he had to admit that out of everyone he tolerated working with you the most. you being prettier than a lot of them was only another plus for him. but for you, knowing toji was like shiu’s best friend and right-hand man, it made you sick.

“whatever.” toji spat back, moving over to the couch you once sat on, leaning his cheek on his fist.

you rolled your eyes, your arms and legs now crossed, “he acts like everything is so miserable all the damn time.” you didn’t bother to hide the annoyance in your voice, wanting toji to know that you were just as miserable as him.

“yeah, because it is.” he said flatly, but that stupid smile was on his face. “unfortunately, i’ll be just as miserable working with you, you know we don’t have a choice.”

“you’ll both get over it, yeah?” shiu chuckled, the back and forth between the two of you being amusing to him.

“or not” you huffed, starting to get irritated on top of your being tired.

“she’s so dramatic.” toji hummed against his hand, his eyes trailing up your back.

“fuck you,” you mumbled, making sure either of them couldn’t hear you..or so you thought.

shiu’s eyebrow raised. he looked down at you, an expression on his face you couldn’t quite put a name to. before you could blink, his hands were on either side of you, his brolic frame leaning over you, his muscles begging for release under his dress shirt.

“repeat that for me.” toji’s voice came from directly behind you, making you flinch at the sound.

now you were in a predicament. you were sandwiched between the two big men, seeing toji’s large hand out of your peripherals. if you responded, you were sure not going to be able to go on the mission you were just begging to go on earlier. even if you wanted to say anything the air between the two men was way too thick with their cologne for you, opting to just shake your head no.

wrong answer

“she was being so good earlier, i don’t know what happened.” shiu took a moment to admire your face, studying your features. he raised a hand to your cheek, knowing how much you loved it when he did so, cupping it while you looked up at him, “you’re always causing me trouble and giving me headaches..i’ll give you another chance to use your words.”

you couldn’t help but lean your head into his hand. you brought your hands up to his forearm, holding his arm there. shiu felt a mixture of affection and amusement knowing you’d already sealed your fate as he rubbed your cheek with the pad of his thumb.

“the brat is obsessed with you,” toji leaned over you, looking at shiu. from what you could see when you looked up, toji was giving shiu a dangerous smirk, a form of silent communication between the two of them, except shiu wasn’t so quiet.

“y/n, wanna make it up to me?” you nodded eagerly, watching as shiu lit a new cigarette, stepping back to take a seat in his chair, “instead of me punishing you, toji’s going to do it. that’s your punishment.”

you stared blankly for just a moment, not knowing what shiu was talking about until toji’s large hands appeared on your thighs, trailing up your body before stopping at your breasts, and cupping them. “but wh-”

“you talk to him like that, you’re also disrespecting me, you know that doll.” shiu cut off whatever you were about to say, watching as his best friend massaged your tits, adjusting himself in his seat once he saw your legs start to spread on their own, his eyes never leaving them, “he’s just going to teach you to watch your mouth, i’ve let you off the hook too many times cause i like you. ”

you got excited hearing shiu’s words but got sidetracked once you felt toji push your shirt and bra up and over your breasts, the cold air causing you to let out a quiet whimper. “i dunno boss,” he teased, bringing his face down beside yours, “it looks like she’s liking this a little too much, huh?”

he did have a point but why would you ever admit that, “ i-i do- ngh!” your hips bucked at the sudden assault on your nipples, toji’s calloused fingers relentlessly tugging, pinching, and rolling over your nipples. head leaned back and you still tried to deny it, which only led to toji turning you around and laying you on your back.

shiu appeared behind you to make sure that you were watching toji as he pulled off your shorts and panties, his gaze darkening once it landed on your cunt that was already so soaked. he dragged two fingers through your folds and you squeezed your legs together, or tried to, only to be met by a slap to your breast by shiu, afterward him reaching down and holding your legs open and up by your chest. “you’re gonna keep your legs open, understand?”

“y-yes sir,” you mewled. toji was merely playing with your essence, enjoying the way you greedily rocked your hips while you lay in shiu’s arms. something about it did so much to him, and he knew it did just as much, if not more, for you as well.

“she’s so pretty, and her cunt is even prettier.” he purred to himself, but shiu agreed nonetheless, his hands toying with your breasts despite him not supposed to be having contact with you, he couldn’t help himself. he really couldn’t help himself seeing now, watching toji bury his face into your pussy. “tell me how good it tastes.”

“t- oji!” you hiccuped, toji humming against your clit in response. his nose was pushed up against your mound, his tongue lapping at your folds nauseatingly before he sucked them up into his mouth while he shook his head. even his stubble was tickling you in all the right places. your eyes rolled so far back you thought you could smell colors, your hand tangling in his dark hair.

“yeah? watch him eat your fuckin’ pussy, open your eyes.” your eyes came back once you felt a tap on your cheek, looking up to see shiu tilting your head back down at toji who was looking right back at you. you truly were trying your hardest, but the way the man between your legs was groaning against, sucking, and swirling at your already puffy cunt made it extremely hard to breathe, let alone keep your eyes open and focused.

you caught yourself going cross-eyed, not able to help the drool that fell from your lips, when toji plunged a finger into your hole, mouth still locked onto your clit. the slutty noises that came from him; grunts, slurps, & groans, reveling in the scent and taste of your pussy..he’s fucking nasty.

just when your lower stomach tightened, shiu said the worst thing he could’ve ever said at that moment, “stop.”

toji didn’t hesitate to release you from his mouth with a pop, giving you kisses up your stomach as to apologize, your whines and babbling pleas making him feel just the slightest bit bad for you.”i’m sorry baby,” he cooed, your hips still grinding up into the air, trying to find some type of friction. “poor thing, you taste so good.”

“if you want to cum, you’ll have to convince me you deserve it, doll.” shiu said sweetly, pushing your beautiful curls out your face and wiping the tears from your cheeks that would’ve been red had it not been for your pretty brown skin.

“give the brat to me,” toji gave you that sickening smile while shiu picked you up like it was nothing and laid you down on your stomach so now you were facing toji..well the thick bulge that was straining through his sweats. “see what you did?”

toji shamelessly palmed himself through his pants, his head slightly cocked to the side as he watched your face contort once in pleasure once you felt shiu’s middle and index finger rub deep figure 8’s into your clit, toji’s nostrils flaring. “she’s s’fucking hot.”

“i told you so.” shiu hummed, his other hand giving your ass a tight grip before he brought his hand down on it, the stinging sensation making you whine and clench around nothing. “y/n, pull his pants down.”

you nodded, nibbling in your bottom lip at the thought of where this thing might be going sooner rather than later. you grabbed a hold of toji’s waistband and wasted no time pulling it down. toji’s cock flopped on your face, causing the three of you to smile or laugh, especially with the squeak you made.

“open,” toji pushed your hair from the front of your face, his fingers gently tangling in with your messy curls. his hand stopped at the top of your head, pulling your head towards him once you opened your mouth.

a gag slipped past your lips and around toji’s cock, his thick and spongey tip catching you off guard once he pushed down. “oh fuck-” a groan resonated from in his chest, his head falling back as he did so. toji began thrusting into your mouth, the motion causing you to push back onto shiu’s fingers which had found their way into your needy cunt.

the room was filled with toji’s grunts and moans, your slew of gags, moans, and cries following his. shiu was taking it allllll in. something about watching your lips stretch around his best friend's cock, the way that your pretty brown eyes watered and rolled back, and the way that your pussy was sucking his fingers in so deep, your sopping wet walls begging him for more..and oh was he going to give it to you.

“fuck this,” shiu muttered through gritted teeth. from what you could hear through your poor, fuzzy ears was shiu scrambling to get his belt undone and his pants unbuttoned, not even attempting to pull his pants down. no, that would take entirely too long and he needed to feel you stretched around him and he needed it now.

“she’s jus’ looks too good, huh?” toji grinned through one of his groans, a breathier one following after your throat tightened because of a moan, your tongue massaging those aching veins of his. shiu brought a hand to the fat of your left hip, keeping you from doing too much squirming while he rubbed the length of his thick cock between your folds, your wetness alone enough to lube him up.

“y/n, play with his balls.” shiu requested of you. you didn’t know why he asked you instead of toji, but the curse that slipped between his lips and the way his body lurched forward, you knew it was to shut him up, a little teasing smile curling up on your lips.

that smile was quickly wiped off your face by the sudden fullness inside you, your aching walls welcoming shiu with pathetic squelches. toji lets you come up for air, his tip just resting on your puffy bottom lip, his pre and your spit dribbling off it. “shiuu!~” you looked back to see shiu focused, both of his hands gripping your ass, still slipping his cock inside you, each little bit that went in making your knees wobble beneath you.

“shhh,” toji massaged the top of your head with the hand he still had in your hair, his other hand turning you to face him. praises erupted from shiu whose hips finally met the fat of your ass. he kept his thrusts slow and shallow, a hand gliding up your back, following that perfect arch you were giving him so soon.

toji’s dick started twitching at the sight: your ass recoiling every time you and shiu’s skin met, watching how his stomach muscles already started tensing and the ring of your cream starting to form around his base. you looked absolutely fucked out, your tongue lolling out your mouth in search of toji. he looked at you with half-lidded eyes, his grip tightening around your jaw, sliding his length right back into your mouth where it belonged.

at this point, saying you were shaking was an understatement. the way your poor body was being slung back and forth by the two dicks, one of which angled his thrusts so deep you thought he’d punch through your stomach at any moment now, the other so far down your throat your nose smushed up against the bottom of his belly now and then, feeling the way his balls tightened in your hand. if that wasn’t enough, both of them talking to you the way that they were had you teetering over the edge, and you could tell that they were too.

“gonna fill you up so deep with my cum, fuck-” shiu spoke in almost a whisper, “fill you up so fuckin’ deep you’ll give me a baby, yeah? gonna let your boss put a fuckin’ baby in you with your coworker’s dick in your mouth?” that was all you needed to hear before your body tensed up, going cross-eyed as you came around shiu, your pussy clenching down on him, your throat and mouth doing the same on toji while a stream of muffled moans left your lips.

the two greedy men didn’t let up, if anything they only went harder. feeling you squeeze made shiu’s hips rut into you faster, his own eyes fluttering shut while he practically had you slamming back onto him with his hands. a series of “oohh fuuuck-”s were flying out of shiu’s lips with each thrust, each one getting longer and needier, his head starting to roll back.

“you better fuckin’ fill her up…fill ‘er little cunt up shiu…do it..” toji grunted in between his own moans which only made shiu plow into you deeper, which in turn had your mouth bouncing on toji’s dick so good he almost fell forward again, his hand moving from your hair to grip onto the desk.

words could no longer be formed between the both of them, only their moans and the slapping of skin circling through the room. toji finished first, muttering curses and praises all while holding your head still, his ribbons of ooey goodness trickling down your throat in little spurts. shiu wasn’t that far behind him either. he finished with a loud “holy shi-”, his hips stuttering, continuing his thrusts until his stomach trembled, finally pulling out of you along with toji.

the both of them stood there for a moment, breathless. they admired how beautiful you looked lying on shiu’s desk. still twitching and panting, not able to help the quiet whines that came off you while you calmed down. “s’much for a punishment, you okay doll?” shiu’s voice was gentle, his hand massaging your lower back.

“look at her,” he moved your hair out of your face, revealing a cockdrunk smile and drool still dripping from your chin, “of course she liked it.”

“you little slut.”

orignal works by me ♡ reblogs welcome, do not steal/recreate..

mechanic!nanami next

32 notes · View notes

marshbarks · 6 months ago

Text

my dog is so good at being mildly inconvenienced and looking at me like i just personally wronged him AND called him a slur. like... no... i asked you to get off the blanket so i could fix it because your silly ass was sliding off the bed and you were about to fall

#pine prattles #and then i open my bedroom door to go make tea and the husky is leaning against it #so she fucking FALLS into my room for a second. and i get to watch her scramble and give herself zoomies #and then shoot off down the hall into another room #THEN she comes back while im in the kitchen and she brings the pitsky and the great dane with her so i have a Grown Ass Man #just STARING at me while i trry to make TEA

8 notes · View notes

dante-mightdie · 2 months ago

Text

so let me share something with you guys for a second

(nsfw)

ghost is hot, right? we all know that. picture him always having someone sneaking out his room during unsocial able hours, shushes and clattering of buckles hitting the floor as his latest hookup creeps back down the halls to the cold barracks

and you, the awkward recruit with a fat crush on your lieutenant who envys every person who shamelessly shoots their shot with him and succeeds. letting him make a mess out of them for one night only

and it is always one night only

no same person has ever left his room twice, nothing more than a cheap hookup to him. you know you wouldn’t be any different, shown the door before you can even get your cargos zipped back up but if it meant at least one night with simon riley, you really didn’t care

but when it’s finally your turn? when you finally drink up enough courage to speak to the brooding man in the corner nursing his own drink in the corner of the bar, it turns out he didn’t even know your name

but that’s okay, it’s not like he was gonna be your future husband anyway so you power through. pull out all the charisma you have stored away for moments like this and you soon find yourself back in his room, making a complete fool of yourself

struggling to unbuckle his belt, biting down too hard on his lip during the, quite frankly, terrible make-out session that led up to your current situation, responding to his dirty talk with blinded stutters

and when he finally pulls out his cock? you’re too nervous to relax, and it doesn’t fit. before he can give you some half-assed ‘s’alright, love. another time, yeah?’, you’re shoving him off and rushing out his room before you can even get yourself fully-dressed

for weeks, you avoid him. at least, that’s what he calls it. you didn’t consider it avoidance under the assumption that he had no intentions of pursuing you again

simon was under the same assumption, and yet he couldn’t stop thinking about you. every hook-up leading up to you was a performance, an act he completed as some odd way of reminding himself that he was still, in fact, human

your heated cheeks and scrunched nose every time you fumbled was strangely refreshing to simon, a friendly reminder that not everything needed to be so serious, so professional. maybe the humanising act could be an experience instead, he thinks as he reaches for his phone

that night had been keeping you up for weeks, replaying every stupid way you messed up the thing you had been thinking about since you laid eyes on simon

and then your phone pings. from an unknown number.

‘price is off base. come to my room and I’ll make it fit this time.’

#simon riley x reader #simon riley

10K notes · View notes

screampied · 5 months ago

Note

i saw this on my feed and how about sextherapist!sylus and virgin!reader that struggles with making themselves orgasm? you can go from there 🤗

warnings. — ☆ fem! reader, sēx therapist sylus, virgín reader, praise, dirty talk, semi public, first time squírt, fıngering, mdni.

“oh, so you really weren’t kidding—were you, kitten?” sylus hums, feeling you writhe around his lap in anticipation. you’re so up close to him as your back’s facing the opposite way of his chest. in the far distance, you hear a plethora of noises coming outside of his office. meaningless chit chatter from his coworkers, loud stomps echoing down the hall, his annoying fax machine that forevermore continues to spit out those same clicking cries, and so on. you’ve been attending sessions with sylus for quite some time now, and you just needed to know how to orgasm properly. you tried everything and nothing would work. according to you, it was dire and you wanted to know if it was as good as people say. “daydreamin’ again?” he coos huskily, hot breath colliding near the twitching shell of your ear. a veiny hand of his softly trails down your inner thighs, glancing at your slid to the side panties. “ah, look at her. she’s so gorgeous.”

“sylusss,” you hiss out his name, gingerly wrapping your clammy fingers around his broad cuffed wrist. “hurry up.”

the white haired man snickers at your agitation, and once he teasingly ghosts two thick fingers over your throbbing protected entrance—his chest rumbles from wry laughter. “my, you’re so impatient. but fine, fine. spread these pretty legs, let me see what we’re workin’ with.”

right away, you sprawl your legs out even further then before and you hear him whistle.

“what a sight,” he purrs, and your head slumps back against his chest. it was almost half past ten at night and sylus was technically off work. your session ended about an hour ago but you just persisted that you needed one more thing.

an orgasm.

your nostrils smell his musky scent of loud rich leather and sandalwood that’s smothering all over his clothing. he brushes a thumb over the lace fabric of your panties before feeling just how soaked you were. “cute, bet you were soaked like this the entire time we were chattin’, hm?”

“f- fuck,” you swallow, and a plump tip of his finger gradually pulls at the string of your underwear. you remain laid back against his lap, gnawing at the bars of your enclosure.

the two of you were sitting on a fat cushioned sofa that’s dipping inward from the heavy pounds of weight. sylus was slow — painfully slow, he knew what he was doing. he lets out a raspy chortle, hearing your slow needy breaths featuring each exasperated gasp that leaves from your lips. “sylus, please.” you moan through gritted teeth, the wait just becoming unbearable.

sylus shushes you, pressing his soft lips up near the sloping nape of your neck. “there there,” and he talks over your whines before within seconds, a finger slowly inserts its way inside. you gasp, feeling your tummy heave. his finger was long, not only that but it was very very thick. you started to hear your heartbeat dramatically thump through your ears as he continues to speak. “pay attention now, this right here?” and you whimper, feeling his middle finger swirl around inside of your pussy. he taps against a spot that makes you feel almost every nerve shoot your body. “this is the clit, kitten. and this,” and you moan, hearing the sloshing sounds of your own mess fill the room. sylus gradually plugs in another finger - his pointer finger, and it fully extends immediately, reaching a spongy spot. “this is my favorite, your pretty g-spot.”

“s- sylus,” you suck in a frustrated breath, realizing that he had not one but two fingers inside. he’s very gentle regardless . . gentle and undeniably slow. oh, the wait was killing you. with your flapping lashes fluttering back against your hooded eyelids, you couldn’t help but gnaw at your quivering bottom lip. this was so much better than your own fingers. his was far longer and experienced. his plump lips starts to kiss near your neck this time, softly lolling his tongue down your skin, craving more of your sweet taste. “more, f- finger me.”

“yes ma’am,” he jibes, and it takes him a few dreadfully long seconds before he’s finally making haste. the tone of sylus’s voice was so deep that it nearly shakes you to the very core—you feel his exact rough vibrato against you. he hears the irregular changes of your breathing whilst his fingers continue to roam inside of your cunt.

“mhm, there’s about over ten thousand pretty little nerves stored up in here,” and he’s just casually talking over your babbling whines. the tips of his fingers were now already so soaked with your sappy slick. it’s gluing against his digits effortlessly — sweet like honey. your folds were just drooling, and every so often, he pulls his fingers out just to stare at the slippery sloppy mess. “how’s it feel? talk to me, sweet girl.”

as your body resumes to tingle from the circular maneuvers of his two fat digits, you let off a loud moan, peering at your left thigh that’s starting to mercilessly shake. “good—fuck, so good,” you whine, the stimulation making you merely bite down on your tongue. sylus hums in amusement, noticing how your thighs would just fail to stay still—it’s cute, you’re a jittery mess but your hand finds it’s way wrapping around his wrist again. “faster,” you plead, and your eyes nearly roll back once he’s just repeatedly toying with your precious g-spot.

again, and again, and again.

your gummy walls accepted sylus’s fingers freely and it was so snug, your mouth can’t help but start to salivate once you realize you’re coming close. he’s quick, plummeting such inches of just two simple digits in and out of you at such a maddened pace. he’s using his entire wrist, his finger work had your toes curling in awe.

“ah, easy now kitten. just relax and bare around ‘em. there’s no rushing a pretty pussy this sloppy,” and he’s speaking right up against your ear again. if you weren’t throbbing then, you definitely were now. sylus even licks against the edge of your ear, giving it a playful nibble. “c’mooon, give me that orgasm, uh huh. make me proud, sweetie.”

“hngh, s-sylus,” you whimper out loudly, your entire body growing tense. sylus’s free hand creeps toward your tummy, softly caressing against your bare skin that’s loosely tucked underneath your blouse. this was so risky. anyone could just walk in and see you - you and him, but you didn’t care—you didn’t care, especially when you were so close to making a mess all his sofa. “fuck, fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

“let go for me,” he whispers, and his tone was so soothing. it’s almost as if he wasn’t inches deep inside of your swollen pulsating cunt with two thick fingers. in and out, he’s shoving them in and out of you, twisting them around and curling them all throughout your gripping walls. fuck, your toes were scrunched up, feeling such rippling waves surge through you. you were almost positive that if it wasn’t for the help of his hand holding you steady in place against his lap, you’d fall right from his grasp. sylus brings one final kiss toward the back of your collarbone before humming. “atta girl. just give it to me. c’mon, all on my fingers.”

but abruptly, right as you’re coming undone, you feel yourself spraying your translucent slick all on his pumping fingers. a shrieking scream dies from the back of your throat and he finds it oh so cute.

sylus feels you pulsing around him and he grows quiet—you huff out heavy heaving breaths, realizing that you’re squirting. it only lasts for a few seconds but it felt like nothing you’ve ever felt before. “oh my g- godddd.” you collapse back against his chest, his fingertips delicately plying with your prodding g-spot for just a few seconds longer before he pulls them out. slowly, sylus retracts his digits out of your puffy cunt, watching how it’s now glistening with your honeyed sap.

“aw,” he breaks the silence, hearing your pussy squeal again with numerous squelches as he’s dragging out his two drenched fingers. you’re still so sensitive, it’s like your entire body was burning up with fiery scorching hot heat. it’s intense, your thighs shamelessly try to squeeze themselves shut whilst you’re just rigorously shuddering on his lap. “would you look at thaaaat,” and his arms wrap around you. “such a good girl. although you’ve made quite the mess.”

in the midst of him sweet talking, praising you and all, you’re panting heavily. your sighing chest’s raising up and down as you’re just laid out on his lap, exhausted. as you’re chasing your own scurried breaths, sylus kisses the top back of your head. “again,” you moan, a strain in your voice. despite how your legs were still shivering—you craved more, you wanted to orgasm like that over and over. “t- teach me how to do again.”

“to squirt?” sylus raises a snowy white brow, turning you around to face him. his crimson eyes bore into yours and there’s that same sly smile stretching across his lips once you desperately nod. “hm, alright. but this time, i just might have to teach you with my tongue,” and you feel yourself throb once he’s slowly making you recline yourself back against his velvet-colored settee. “now lie back kitten, doctor’s orders. .”

#★vegasbaby.#sylus smut #sylus x reader #sylus x you #qin che #lnds sylus #lnds smut #lads #l&ds smut #lads smut #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #divider: enchantings

6K notes · View notes

fragilef4wn · 17 days ago

Text

boarding school ⟡

f!arcane characters x f!reader - girl’s boarding school AU- hall-monitor caitlyn, straight-A student mel, athletic vi, rebel jinx, teacher cassandra x fem!reader (fluff and kissing)

cw; kissing w/o explicit permission, weed, teacher/student. also i wrote this instead of sleeping in the middle of the night so! (3k words)

Caitlyn - Caught

Smoke spills from plush-lips, curling into cold air. The stall-room’s door is scribbled and graffitied; etched with phone numbers and corny messages. You shuffle on the edge of the lid, allowing bitter tobacco to hit your throat again - exhaling the scent into the girl’s bathroom. You’re halfway through a particularly thrilling daydream when a knock at the door startles you into the world. Stubbing the cigarette on the toilet, you call out to the intruder;

“I’m pissing, leave me alone.”

An extremely annoying, posh and very familiar accent rings off the tiles;

“No you’re not, I can see the smoke. No smoking in the girl’s toilets. Come out.”

You stand up, flushing the toilet for dramatics, and unlock the stall door. Deep-blue eyes, framed by furrowed, pissed off brows, stare back at you.

“Hello, Kitty-Cait,”

She frowns at the nickname, and you shoot a sickly-sweet glance at her, sing-song voice. Before shoving past her and turning on the tap (again, dramatics - got to sell it.) She glares at you through the mirror, towering behind you as she crosses her arms over her chest.

“That’s two misdemeanours, you know; one for smoking and two for missing class.” She clicks her tongue, face shifting into a half-smile, “And I’m pretty sure that makes your third offence of the week. Which adds up to an hours detention.”

“I told you. I was using the bathroom. Is that a crime?” You shut off the tap, turning to face her.

“Ok, where’s your toilet pass?” She persists. God, she’s so annoying. With her dark, shiny hair always in that tight-ass ponytail and her pink, glossed lips. For a minute, you catch yourself wondering how soft they are — but you shake that thought out of your head. She’s annoying, that’s it.

You rolls your eyes, and press your own lips together. “Fine. Write me up.”

“I could,” Something shifts in her tone, and she smirks — flashing gap-toothed smile, “Or, you could do me a favour. And I might - forget - about it.”

“Favour?” You scoff, “Like what?”

“Kiss me.” She says, and your eyes widen. What?!

You stutter, trying to find the right words to say — yet they all get caught in your throat. Finally, you swallow your surprise, “Fine.” And she smiles.

She saunters towards you, until you’re caught between her and the wall between the sinks. Glancing down between her impossible long, dark and perfect lashes - lips parting slightly.

Caitlyn closes the gap, albeit hesitant, and presses her lips against yours. The bitterness aftertaste of tobacco and the sweetness of her strawberry lipgloss intertwines as her tongue finds your mouth. Long fingers find your nape, pulling you closer as warmth engulfs you — contrasting the cold tiles of the walls sticking to the back of your knees.

Eventually, Caitlyn pulls back, lips swollen and panting. She smiles another toothy-dopey smile into your flushed pink cheeks, before pushing back. Straightening her uniform and tightening the ribbon at the back of her head, Caitlyn turns on her heel. You stare after her, wanting to say something — anything. But the kiss has left you half-dazed and your thoughts too much to collect and make sense of.

Caitlyn glances back at you, still pushed against the wall and dizzy.

“Don’t let me catch you again. I might not be as — lenient,” She giggles, licking your taste off her lips and skipping out of the bathroom. Leaving you unable to do anything then gape after her because, goddamn, her lips are soft.

Mel - Copy-cat

Ticking echoes through the room. The old clock nailed to the peeling wallpaper a reminder of the thirty minutes you’ve spent doing fuck-all. Shit, you really wished you had studied longer. Last night feels so long away as you mentally curse your past, sleepy self for making excuses rather than picking up the textbook. You told yourself that this was nothing but a mock-exam — not a real test, but now that you’re sitting in the exam room, it feels real.

You find yourself still making excuses, telling yourself you can’t focus because of the unrelenting clock or the constant coughing in the far end of the room. Even though it’s not true, you can’t put pen to paper because you have no clue what to write. Meaning you are going to fail, again.

A quick glance around the room and you feel even worse, as everyone else seems to be completely fine — especially your desk-neighbour. Typical, straight-A student Mel Medarda is scribbling away, already questions deep into her paper. From your position next to her, you can make out some words. In pure desperation, you find yourself leaning ever-so closer.

You check on the teacher, finding him engrossed in his book, you out of sight at the back of the classroom. Ok, you can do this — just a few answers.

Your eyes flicker to the sheet of paper again, catching a few words and writing them down. Back to the teacher, who is still distracted. And back again to her paper, lingering too long on her long, delicate fingers, tipped with manicured nails. Her wrist is adorned with golden bracelets, travelling down to her knuckles — where equally beautiful, and expensive, rings are. Her arms are bare, allowing your eyes to greedily run over her exposed skin. To where the push of her shoulder blades forces a hollow in the material of her shirt. To her hazel eyes, flecked in gold — staring right at you. Fuck.

She stares at you, eyes wandering from yours to her paper to your paper. Pieces of hair frame her face as she turns it back to you, gold clasps keeping it twisted together glowing against her dark-skin. Honeyed voice spills from plump lips as she whispers;

“What are you doing?”

You just shrug, stupidly. Too entranced by her presence, her eyes on yours, to come up with a reasonable excuse. Shuffling back a bit to your seat, making it look like you’re not obviously copying off her work. Mel gapes, opening her mouth again and huffing at your lack of response.

“Are you copying me?”

Now that prompts a response. You almost jump out of your skin at her words. Failing class is one thing, but pissing off one of the richest pupils in the school will have your head on a spike. You filter through your mind; searching for something to absolve you of your crime. You falter, and your body acts on its own, lunging forwards until your lips meet hers — this will keep her quiet, surely.

She tastes like mint, her lips tender as she lets out a muffled squeak. For some reason, she doesn’t fight nor pull away. Instead, her lips turn upward and when you pull away, she’s smiling? You exhale shakily;

“Shit, I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

Mel laughs, in a way that is so angelic you forget to breathe for a second, before slamming her hand over her mouth in an attempt to silence herself. She murmurs, voice low;

“I was going to ask if you needed some help.” She flashes white teeth, nibbling on the end of her pen, “I tutor, and you’re cute, so I wouldn’t mind.”

You turn crimson, nodding fervently — still embarrassed you kissed her in the middle of class. She chuckles again, quietly this time and tells you to meet her after class. The taste of mint still lingers at your lips.

Vi - Locker-room

The faint smell of sweat and Victoria Secret perfume resides in the locker-room. You sit on the edge of the bench pushed to a corner, nursing a large scrape on your knee. Diving to catch the ball was a stupid idea, especially considering you did it to impress a girl who barely looked your way.

You take the wet paper-towel and try to clean up remaining blood, stuck to skin and wound. The pain comes in sharp waves radiating from the scraped knee, and you are so absorbed in fighting the urge to cry you barely notice the door swinging open. Strong scent of spicy aftershave spills into the room, burning at already tear-struck eyes. The plastic bench dips slightly at the weight shuffling next to you. You peel your gaze away from stained towel and to your right, only to be met with grey-eyes. A hiccup escapes your lips, and you tense as a calloused finger wipes away wet cheeks.

“Vi?”

Vi grins, a hum of confirmation. She grabs a small piece of hair cascading down your face and moves it behind your ear.

“I came to see if you were okay. That looked nasty.”

She cocks her head towards your injured knee, red hair brushing over her shoulder. Before you can register her movement, she reaches out and takes the soaked paper from between your fingers. Vi wrings it out slightly, moving to place it back to your knee — inspecting the cut. She lets out a puff of air and furrows her brows. She’s so close to you, that you can feel the heat radiating off her body — it lulls you into a comforting daze. A sudden pang of embarrassment radiates in your chest, becoming increasingly aware of your disheveled appearance and tear-stained face. Reluctantly, you pull away from Vi’s soothing presence.

Vi notices the shift in your attitude, raising an eyebrow and meeting your face. “Everything ok?”

You nod, rubbing the last of your sobs away with the back of your sleeve. “Just… hurts a bit, that’s all.”

“Hm.” Vi chews at her bottom lip, pink-tongue darting out to wet parted mouth. “This might seem silly, but it used to help my sister,” she leans towards you — an unspoken ask for permission. You nod.

She bows her head to meet your knee, now clean from grime and dried-blood. Pressing chapped lips against the gash. It stings a bit, and you jerk back subconsciously. Yet, the warmth of Vi’s lips and the tenderness of which she kissed your injury makes up for the small pain. She smiles up to you, eyes kind and touch soft. “Still hurt?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, pondering her question. It hurts less after being cleaned, but the feeling of her lips on your skin lingers — and you want more. You nod your head. “Maybe again?”

Vi laughs at that, leaning back down to kiss the graze again. However, the break of contact is only momentary as her mouth meets your leg again, only this time slightly higher up. Your breath hitches as her fingertips follow the path of her mouth, up to rest on your cheek.

“Still hurt?” She asks again, only this time you shake your head. Looking into powder-blue eyes, you lean into her palm rubbing circles into your skin. There’s only inches of space between you, making your heart thrum as you run your tongue against blunt teeth. It takes a second, but eventually she closes the gap — capturing your lips with hers. The kiss is rough, less soft than the one to your knee. Vi pushes you against the wall of the locker-room, and you palm at her shoulders, her biceps sculpted under your hand. You pull away to breathe, inhaling deeply — the scents of the locker room filling your lungs.

The door bursts open again, and the rest of the class rushes through, ready to change and get on with the day.

Jinx - Rule-breaker

You shift in your bed, turning to face Jinx’s side of the dorm. Moonlight bleeds through open window, shining into the room and creating patterns on wooden floor. You slip out from underneath the sheets, socks padding on planks as you move to the open window.

Perched on the windowsill, Jinx rests back against the wall. Joint wrapped gently around lips, you watch as she breathes slowly, stomach growing taunt with each breath.

“Is that… weed?”

You hesitate, fingers reaching out to hold the support of the window. Jinx giggles, taking another inhale and holding the smoke in her lungs. You swallow, stomach fluttering at way she sits so relaxed. Her abdomen bare as her shirt folds above her ribs.

“That’s against the rules. If you get caught — you could get kicked out,”

Jinx rolls her eyes, slumping back to the wall. “You’re so whiny, loosen up a bit.”

She pats the sill next to her, beckoning you to sit next to her. You shuffle opposite to her, leaning back and watching as her nimble fingers take the blunt from her own mouth and holds it in-front of yours. She raises an eyebrow questioningly, cocking her head — daring you.

You turn your head to stare at the flickering lights of the other dorms. And Jinx huffs, pulling the blunt away and to her own lips. You exhale sharply at the sight of her cheeks hallowing, her mouth puckering around the edge of the rolled paper.

“You’re such a goody-two-shoes.”

She sticks her tongue out mockingly, waving the blunt around. Mischievous round-eyes meet yours, and you flush — turning back again to the light dotted around the building, like man-made constellations twinkling against darkness. You feel her feet prod at your legs curled up to your chest. Her nails are chipped blues-and-pinks, another rule-broken.

She finishes the joint, flicking the butt out of the window. Blue-braids cascade down thin shoulders as she leans forward. She takes a painted nail and drags it down your sternum, feeling the way your heart thrums against the skin. “What am I going to do with you?” She whispers into rosy-cheeks.

Jinx is the definition of insolent. A risk-taker, adrenaline-junky. Doing things for the sake of it and not really caring for consequence. She raises slender fingers to your face, dragging it down lips, watching as they part at the feeling of her caresses.

“I would ask if I could kiss you, but it’s against the rules. And I know how you love to follow orders.”

You swallow your anxiety, the intimate tension creating a lump at the back of your throat. You glance down to her lips, swollen with bites and small cracks. They’re cherry-red, flushed with blood as she drags her tongue along the bottom.

“Do it.”

Jinx smiles, brushing her nose against yours. She presses herself to you, and you can taste the faint-weed on her tongue. She kisses like she’s hungry, always been hungry and it feels amazing when you let her have you. You take your hands and hold her cheeks, running your thumb in soothing circles. Your noses brush together again as she moves her head.

Teeth scrape against rough skin, and a raspy chuckle vibrates through your mouth as Jinx laughs. You pull back, staring into ocean-blue eyes — watching as they glimmer under the shine of the industrial galaxy.

Cassandra K - Teacher's pet

You place another textbook onto the pile, shuffling them onto the middle-shelf at the back of the classroom. As you continue collecting the remaining books from the desks, the light shifts as the noon continues. Fragmenting onto the floor, creating patterns at your feet filtering an orange-pink glow through the half-shut blinds.

You decided to stay behind after class, being the one elected (and volunteering) to help your teacher clean up. Ms. Cassandra Kiramman sits at her large, oak desk — pen scratching onto paper as she writes or marks something. Occasionally she looks up, watching as you glide around the classroom, throwing away abandoned paper or cluttered books. The sun catching your face, illuminating features in a soft, dewy haze. You look angelic like this, she thinks.

You’re a good help, a benefit to the class. Always willing to do whatever it takes to secure a good reputation, educated mind. There’s also the added benefit of your teacher being insanely attractive.

You peek over the stack of equipment, pretending you are preoccupied with ‘helping,’ and find that Mrs. Kiramman’s eyes are locked on you. Deep, blue drags over your figure, greedily taking in your form.

She sits, perfectly poised, with contempt superiority. Blazer tight around her arms, and her chest. The navy cotton suits her, frames cerulean eyes and soft, pale skin. It’s a shame that it’s your last year at this school, you’re definitely going to miss this. Her stare, flickering towards you in the middle of a lesson, and the way she calls your name — sweetly spilling from thin, neatly coloured lips.

You put the class-equipment away, smiling at her in a slightly flirtatious manner. “All done?” She chides from the front of the classroom, resting her head on her fist and watching you through half-lidded eyes. You nod, sheepishly making your way to her desk.

“You’re a good girl. Thank you.”

The compliment makes you blush, fidgeting with the ends of your hair. Ms. Kiramman sucks in, hollowing her cheeks, as she pensively stares at you. For a minute, the room is quiet — only the hushed wind and chiming notifications from the computer filling the room. Suddenly, she straightens and examines the window to the hallway. She looks as though she expects someone to burst through the door, but the hallway remains bare, no pupils or teachers alike in sight.

Cassandra beckons you over with her index finger; long and neatly trimmed. Pushing herself from her sitting position, she looks down to your blushing face.

“For your hard work,” she says politely, yet her voice shakes ever-so-slightly.

She leans down, pecking you on the corner of your mouth. You stifle a gasp, holding your breath as your eyes dart to meet hers.

“Uh, thank you,” you manage to squeak out between quickened breaths. “…thank you.”

You raise your hand to touch where her lips just were, heart fluttering at just the recall of light sensation. You barely even notice that she’s back behind her desk, pen in hand and brows knitted together as she continues her work. As though nothing happened.

You feel giddy anyways, turning to leave the classroom. Stepping through the parted shadows, a golden-glow kissing at your face.

#arcane #arcane x reader #caitlyn x reader #mel x reader #vi x reader #jinx x reader #cassandra x reader #writing #boarding school #mwah x

1K notes · View notes

xan-izme · 3 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐲𝐧𝐞𝐬

Part 1: Dinner Time

Prologue

TW: Past neglect, death, violence, mention of blood, drinking

Tag list: @pix-stuff, @sweetconnoissurgarden, @craftymoonchaos, @jsprien213, @hebaoffside, @bunbunboysworld, @melonylla, @numbu5, @tatsuri-zomushiki, @formulas-bitch, @fantasyhopperhea, @otterluver05, @caged-birdies-blog, @minkyungseokie, @una1002289, @vanessa-boo, @welpthisisboring, @sirenetheblogger, @salfishers, @meeeeeeee-stuff, @eylsiankub, @lilithskywalker

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

"Eight years in hell. . ."

You were seated on top of a desk playing with a snow globe in your hands.

"Can really make you go crazy." Your head hits the wall behind you, slowly turning to the bleeding man on the ground, once again receiving a blow to the face from a man dressed in dark red.

"P- please. . . I don't know anything. I swear." The man whimpers as he begged.

You sighed. "You're lying. I really, really hate liars' doctor." You through the snow globe onto the ground, shattering the glass. The man in red took your small fit of rage as a signal and pulled out a gun, pressing it against the doctor's head.

The bleeding doctor felt another type of fear the moment he felt the cool metal against his temple.

"W-wait! Wait! Please! I have a family; I'm begging you please!" The doctor cried and begged. The man in red glanced to you, you sighed and waved you're hand off. The man in red put his finger on the trigger, about to shoot.

"WAIT- Gotham hospital! She was at Gotham hospital!"

The man in red paused and glanced over to you.

You walked closer to the doctor, crouching down to the man's current level, as the man in red slowly pulled the gum away, the doctor felt a large wave of relief wash over him.

"Are you sure?"

The doctor nods "She s-saw Doctor Hill, that's all I know, I promise that's all I know."

You stay silent for a moment before standing up. "Thank you for your cooperation."

The Doctor felt relived. Wanting to go back to his wife and kids, hug them as tight as he could-

BAM!

The Doctor fell with a thud. Blood slowly seeping out of his body as you tossed the gun you used to shoot the doctor to the man in red.

"That's for lying" You mumbled as you stare at the doctor's body with indiffrence.

You've been out of Arkham for almost a month now. You should be relaxing, try to fit back into society. But no, your mother was missing, the Falcone's didn't know where her whereabouts were, some made comments of her abandoning you the moment you got out, which coursed them to have a slow death for their crude comments.

Your mother loves you, and you know she would never abandon you. So now you're searching. But you aren't getting to her fast enough. And your growing impatient. You wanted to come back out into the world and run into the arms of your mother, but your just met with Gotham's ugly mug. It angered you beyond words.

The man in red, Rex, works for the Falcones, but has come to be loyal to you. Rex followed behind you as you walked out of the room and down the halls.

"Give doctor hill a visit for me, will ya?" You spoke coldly as your heels clicked loudly walking down the empty hall of an abandoned building. Rex nods before speaking up.

"What about you Miss Falcone. Are you going back to the Falcon manor?"

Ah, yes. You took your mother's last name. All done in paper. No more, Y/n Wayne. That little girl is dead.

". . . No, I need to grab a few things."

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Alfred knows you have been out for a month, so why have you not come back to the manor?

Alfred tried to keep in touch as much as possible during your time in Arkham. Every phone call, he could hear that sweet innocent girl he knew fade. He has tried to phone you multiple times but no use. Even tracking you down with was difficult, Alfred has tried to tell Bruce about his worry for you not coming home, But Bruce seemed to almost immediately shut down at the mention of your name.

He's worried for you, he just wants to see you, and make sure you're okay.

There was a met Gala being held today. Preparing for it was exhausting, but it was like that every time a gala had to be held. Everyone scattered all over the manor.

With a heavy sigh, Alfred entered the kitchen, the gala's close to an end, the rich of Gotham turning in for the night. But Alfred comes to a stop when he noticed a woman in the kitchen, dressed in a dark red dress, her back faced to him as she picked up a glass of wine.

"Excuse me ma'am, you're not supposed to be in the back here." Alfred spoke firmly with his usual stoic expression. The woman in red slowly turns around with the wine glass in hand. Then she spoke, the face, Alfred surely does not recognize, but the voice. He knows your voice.

"I rather be away from the crowed, if you don't mind." You gave the older man a small smirk as you see the realization hit him.

"Miss Y/n?"

Your small smirk cracked even wider. Alfred walks closer, shocked to see you here, in the kitchen munching on some sweets, just like you used to when you were younger.

You shrugged with a small giggle slipping from your red lips

"The one and only"

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"Miss Y/n, come, Master Bruce must know your home!" Alfred might not show it a lot, but he is overjoyed to see you in the manor again. You've grown so much.

"Ah, well I was hoping to just grab some things from my old room and head out." You try to walk off to the back staires

"Nonsense, come, come." Alfred needed you to meet the family. For the family to see you. He touched your back as to lead you out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

You immediately flinched away.

Your negative reaction causes the butler to coil back.

"Miss. . .?"

You let out a weak cuckle.

"Sorry, I'm not fond of being touched." You began to meekly rub your hands together. Alfred comes to realize your time in Arkham has damaged you in some way's he might not be able to know yet.

"No need to apologize miss Y/n." Despite the small awkward moment Alfred still managed to have you walked out to see the others.

You felt an immense amount of DeJa'Vu. The walls, the detailed engraved in these walls. These walls haunted your dreams. Only half of your childhood was spent in this manor. You remember running down those stairs once Bruce came home from work. Skipping through these halls after getting a solo part in choir, something Bruce never really paid mind too.

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

Almost everyone was here tonight. Jason, Dick, Cassandra, Tim, Damian and Duke. Steph couldn't make it. Barbra was spending time with her father. And. . .

Bruce watched as his children chat, argue, laugh. He smiles to himself as he takes a sip of his glass of white wine.

"Where's Alfred?" Damian spoke up as he turned his head in search for the butler that is always usually hovering around. Bruce shrugs

"Most likely in the kitchen."

Suddenly, the doors open, in comes Alfred with a smile on his face.

"Alfred." Bruce can tell Alfred seems to be in a more chipper mood than he was in half an hour ago.

"We have a visitor." Alfred's words confused the others. Then you stepped up. You scanned the room. Some faces new, some old. Others were still confused, either not recognizing you due to the years that have passed, or the fact they simply didn't know who you were.

But Bruce didn't take long to recognize you. And the way he paled at the sight of you, it just made you smirk at his reaction. Dick was quick to follow the realization.

"Y/n . . ." Bruce mumbled.

Jason's head whipped to Bruce once he heard the name. Looking back at you then to Bruce.

"Y/n, we thought you were still . . ." Dick tried to speak, but he seemed to get more uncomfortable with just thinking of his words.

You wait for Dick to say the words, but clearly, he was still in shock to say it.

"Arkham? I've been, rehabilitated." You say this with a soft smile.

Jason, trying to process what the actual fuck is going on right now stayed silent. Damian also confused spoke up.

"Father who is this woman?"

Your eyes snapped to the young boy, your head tilt for a moment. Walking closer to the table. Your heels click as you kept your eyes on the young boy, and Bruce kept his eyes on you. Still not believing you were out.

"I'm his daughter. Blood, daughter." You spoke as you kept a playful manner to yourself. The Damian frowns. "Imposible. I'm fathers only blood child."

You paused for a moment. You seem to be analyzing the situation.

"Is that what dear old daddy said." Your chuckle, almost darkly, as you sipped on your glass of red wine. Alfred pulled up a seat at the end of the table, across from Bruce. You took a seat.

The room that was once filled with chatter and warm air was now silent and tension filled the air. You leaned back into the chair; Alfred re-fills your glass.

"Thank you, Alfred." You kept a small playful smile on your red lips. You let out a small sigh before speaking

"So, what did I miss?"

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

"𝙳𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚢?"

#x daughter!reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #batfam x reader #bruce wayne #dick grayson #tim drake #jason todd #death mention tw #mental health #duke thomas #cassandra cain #platonic yandere #yandere jason todd #yandere tim drake #yandere batfam #arkham asylum #alfred pennyworth #yandere damian wayne

2K notes · View notes

bbyseok · 3 months ago

Text

thinking about teen satosugu who miss you a lot when you go on long missions.

it’s kinda funny, actually, how the strongest duo of jujutsu sorcerers act in your absence. unfortunately, solo missions aren’t uncommon for the three of you, and long missions are especially dreadful.

especially when you are the one assigned to go on the long mission by yourself.

the two are subtly closer on the days before you have to leave. whether you notice it or not, you don’t comment on the amount of times gojo has thrown an arm over your shoulders or how often your fingers brush against geto’s since he’s standing so close.

and when you finally depart from jujutsu high, you bet they’re blowing up your phone with random texts of asking about your wellbeing, how the mission was going, etc.

back in the quarters of the school, gojo and geto are miserable. don’t get me wrong, on the first couple of days they’re fine. but come around the third or fourth day without you there, they resort to borrowing your things.

so what if gojo has one of your shirts? he just forgot to do his laundry. and maybe geto took a bottle of your shampoo. he coincidentally ran out of his!

but on one particular solo mission, you’re gone for two weeks. that’s the longest they’ve ever went without seeing you—shoko, their junior classmates, and even yaga himself, were starting to get concerned for them.

by the end of the first week they’re convinced that gojo is going to start firing off blues left ‘n right, and geto might summon the rainbow dragon at every little inconvenience.

one night, the lack of you gets so unbearable that gojo finds himself tiptoeing down the halls, his feet leading him to your dorm.

when he opens it, he’s greeted with the sight of suguru already inside, frozen as he looks at satoru like a deer in headlights.

“satoru?”

“suguru?”

gojo blinks owlishly, confused. geto looks to be in a similar state as him, restless like he couldn’t sleep. “what are you doing in their room?”

“i could ask you the same thing,” suguru shoots back.

“…i forgot something.”

a blatant lie, and they both know it.

when suguru gives him a pointed, unconvinced look, satoru holds his hands up with a sigh, “okay, fine, fine. i was..”

“missing them?” suguru fills in, his head tilting and bangs falling over his eyes messily, and satoru has the strong urge to brush them to the side.

instead, he nods and closes the door behind him. as if in silent agreement, they both approach your dorm bed. they share a knowing glance before climbing in.

it’s a hilarious struggle at first—they’re unbelievably tall and the dorm beds aren’t built to hold two muscular teenagers over six feet.

“move.”

“no, you move, my arm was there first.”

“you’re going to elbow me!”

“don’t make me kick you off the bed!”

it doesn’t matter, ‘cause eventually they end up cuddling some time throughout the night, whether it was intentional or not. a warm bundle of entangled limbs with your scent clinging onto the blanket and pillows.

and it then becomes a routine with you gone. they meet in your dorm during the dead of night to seek comfort in each other and your things—mainly your bed.

when you finally return from your mission, they’re back to normal if anything, praising your efforts and welcoming you back to jujutsu high like they didn’t spend most of the time wallowing after your departure.

so when you’re assigned another solo mission, just imagine your surprise when you return early for once, only to find the pair of boys snuggling underneath your blanket.

1K notes · View notes

watchmegetobsessed · 3 months ago

Text

UNMATCHED

A/N: it's been like 6 months since i last posted something and honestly, i haven't even written anything, things are very shitty these days but i felt the motivation to write this quickly after watching 'tell me lies' and 'rivals' these past weeks so here we go! if student-prof type of fics are not your thing then don't read it

WORD COUNT: 2.6k

WARNING: age gap, student-professor relationship

SUMMARY: Harry is very strict about staying away from students as a young and handsome professor, but there is one person he can't get out of his head and a Christmas party brings an unexpected turn.

MASTERLIST | SUPPORT ME!

Harry hates these type of parties, mostly because he can’t imagine inviting dozens of students into his home, his private space, have the roam around and spend an entire evening with them, talking and pretending like they aren’t just trying to get a better grade at the end of the semester with their too friendly behavior. Or, in his case, some girls try to push the boundaries and flirt with him, hoping to hook up with him.

He is not stupid. He has heard students whisper about him several times, he notices the heart eyes when he is talking in class and he has gotten several phone numbers on papers since he started his PHD studies and started teaching last year. His friends teased him about being the heartthrob of the faculty, but he didn’t think it would actually happen and to this extent. To avoid any possible scandals, not that he planned to make any, he has put on quite a rigid mask towards the students to scare them off from even trying, though that hasn’t stopped some of them from wanting to shoot their shot.

He wouldn’t have come to this party, he would rather be home and continue his research that’s still not even close to being done, but Professor Bradford, or Stella as she requests Harry to call her, is the only person he gets along with in the faculty. She is 18 years older than Harry, but still younger than the rest of the old men who have been teaching here since probably before the declaration of independence was signed. Those men are the reason younger people don’t like classic literature anymore, with their outdated ways of teaching and unwillingness to bring something modern into their lectures they are scaring the new generations away. But not Stella. She is one of the reasons Harry went into his PHD and now he gets to work with her. He couldn’t just reject her invitation for her annual Christmas Party she holds for her students and some colleagues.

Now he is standing by the wall, drinking mulled wine and just gritting his teeth, trying to calculate how early is too early to leave. A couple of girls have already tried to chat him up, they like to circle him, leave him almost no room to escape and then make him talk about school stuff, but then they slyly bring up personal things, hoping to break his usual character, but he sees through them always.

Harry’s best friend, Niall always teases him that he should just give in and have fun with one of them. His morals are a lot looser than Harry’s, that’s for sure.

Just as he is about to look for the bathroom, not to use it but to hide for a bit, another group of girls spots him and he can already feel his skin crawling as they approach him from down the hallway. He is quick to assess the situation, but he realizes he has no chance of fleeing before they reach him.

“Profesor! So good to see you here!”

And here we go.

It goes the same, they are extremely nice and inquiring about his plans for the next semester and then suddenly they are talking about summer and Harry knows they are moments away from asking what he’ll be doing once the school year is over. One of the girls is talking about going to Italy on a yacht and the others chime in with their own ridiculously over the top plans while Harry is avoiding to even look at them, his eyes roam around the other guests.

That’s when he sees her.

Just down the hall he can peek into the kitchen and there she is, with a boy Harry assumes to be her boyfriend. He’s seen them around campus the past few weeks, he even waited for her after Harry’s class and saw them walk away together as he fought the way his stomach churned every time.

Since the moment she walked into his class at the beginning of the semester Harry has been feeling like he is losing his mind. Whether it be the way she laughs with her friends before class or focuses with undivided attention as Harry explains something by the board, or says hello every time she passes him in the cafeteria, Harry can’t stop thinking about her for days after even though he knows such feelings should be banned from his mind when it comes to a student. Every time he catches himself thinking about her he wants to throw himself out the window, but he still can’t fight it. There’s something in her that draws him in and swallows him whole and it’s not just the looks. Unlike a lot of students who take his classes for easy credits or to drool after him, she is there to learn as much as she can and she’s had the most brilliant thoughts on certain subjects Harry has ever encountered, making him almost jealous he wasn’t the one to think about them.

She is… unmatched. And forbidden, but impossible to ignore. She’s been his vice for months.

From where he stands it appears she is having a fight with said boyfriend, her always cheerful expression is now rather upset and confused while the boy seems to be over the conversation, almost irritated by her, dismissed. Harry tries to appear not too obvious about watching them, but he is also way too fixated on her to ignore what’s happening just down the hallway.

He glances away just for a few seconds, but the next time he looks back he sees the boy stomping away, irritated, while she is left there, pulling on her coat before disappearing through the backdoor, swallowed by the darkness of the unlit back terrace.

And before Harry could stop himself, he is already moving.

“Excuse me girl,” he mumbles disorientedly as he slips out of the small circle.

He places his glass to a nearby table and then grabs his own coat from the wardrobe in the hallway before making his way outside. After her.

The moment he steps out into the cold a short sense of realization washes over him that he definitely shouldn’t be here, that he is crossing a line, but then another voice in his head tunes it out, convincing him that he is just making sure she is okay and there’s nothing wrong with that.

Stopping by the door his gaze rakes through the terrace, but he doesn’t see her, until she spots her slouched form sitting on the bottom of the stairs leading out to the lawn. He hears her sniffling, but she hasn’t acknowledged his presence yet, if she noticed it at all. There’s a couple of moments of hesitation on his end, he can hear the rational side of him screaming somewhere in the back of his mind, telling him to turn around and just walk back inside, yet he still finds himself moving towards him and then that voice is silenced.

“Everything alright?” Harry asks from the top of the stairs, but he startles her so much that she jumps to her feet and backs away a few feet. That’s when he sees her tearful eyes and red nose.

“S-Sorry, I don’t–”

“Hey, it’s all good. You didn’t do anything wrong. Just checking in.”

She squints her eyes at him and that’s when he realizes she must not even see his face since the light is coming right behind him. So he walks down the stairs and then finally his face is lit and realization settles in her eyes.

“Oh, Professor Styles. Hi.”

“Hello Y/N. Are you okay?” he asks again, to which she just chuckles bitterly.

He can’t miss that even with tears running down her cheeks and her eyelashes stuck together, she looks so fucking beautiful it baffles him. He has to fight the urge to reach out and touch her tear-soaked cheeks.

“Um, yeah, everything is… perfect,” she scoffs, reaching into her pockets, probably looking for tissues, but finding none so Harry grabs one from his inner pocket, handing it over to her, her fingers brushing against his for the shortest second as she takes it and then it’s over, but his skin keeps tingling.

“Thanks,” she mumbles before drying her face as much as she can. “I’m good. Just…” She looks at him and changes her mind. “Ah, wouldn’t want to bore you with my nonsense personal drama.”

“Drama is never boring, have you learned nothing in my class?” he jokes and it actually makes her laugh.

“This drama is not worthy of being taught in class though.”

“I bet some of the big names thought the same thing upon writing what we read in class these days.”

“So you’re saying I should write about how my boyfriend is fed up with me because I told him something he did hurt me?”

“That sounds like something I bet a lot of people would want to read about,” he smiles and when she mirrors it, he can feel his chest expanding. Somewhere way too deep in his mind an alarm goes off, but it quickly becomes one with the void and all he can think about is her. “Actually I can think of a few great pieces that are about similar topics.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, believe it or not, you’re not the first one to experience this.”

The way she looks at him is setting him on fire. The mixture of sadness, tiredness and gratitude towards his attempt to cheer her up is still making her glow in a way Harry has never seen before on any woman.

“Do you mind analyzing one for me right now?”

“I’d be happy to.”

The party is completely tuned out for the two of them. First they actually talk about a novel, but soon it turns into sharing their favorite books and authors, their guilty pleasure reads, recommendations for each other and even more personal bits Harry would never share with a student, but Y/N is the exception.

They have no idea how much time passes as they stand outside and Harry ignores how the cold starts to sting his fingertips even in his pockets, because he knows that if they go inside this bubble will pop and he is too selfish to let that happen just yet.

When there’s a short silence Harry notices that she is probably slipping back into what happened earlier and when she looks at him again he already knows she is about to share.

“I gave him a chance and explicitly told him not to fuck me over, because I can’t deal with that again. But all he has been doing is manipulating to believe that I’m always in the wrong.”

“It’s impossible for you to always be in the wrong.”

“I know. Well, part of me knows, but then I always go back to thinking that he is right, I must have messed up something.”

“That just proves that you have self-criticism, that you don’t just think everything you do is perfect.”

She sighs and looks away, her gaze distant as she battles herself inside her head, a feeling Harry knows very well, unfortunately. It doesn’t sit right with him that she is visibly struggling because of an immature guy’s untreated problems. She deserves so much more, but how can he tell that without crossing a line?

“Give it some time and you’ll see it clearer. Use your critical thinking on his actions as well, not just yours and don’t settle for less than your worth.”

“You think I did that?” she asks, eyes jumping back to meet his gaze. “You think I settled for less than my worth?”

There’s more behind her eyes than the words she said out loud and he is torn, because he can feel himself being pulled in more than ever, like she just opened the door the slightest and he has the chance to slip in. It’s the first time he senses something on her part and after all the yearning he is eager to take the chance.

“I think you deserve a lot more, Y/N. You’re brilliant, bright and give so much to others, you should get the same amount if not more back. If someone can’t see that, then they don’t deserve you.”

For a second he wishes he didn’t say a thing, he regrets crossing the line and he fears her reaction, but then…

Then he forgets everything. Because she is kissing him.

It happens fast, one moment she is staring up at him with doe eyes, the next her lips are crashing against his, her hands grabbing onto the lapels of his coat. He barely recovers from the shock when she is already pulling away.

“I-I’m so sorry, I d-didn’t mean to, I just—Oh my Go–”

Her stammering is quickly cut short when he kisses her, his hands holding her jaw to angle her face perfectly and while her kiss was closed, rushed and panicked, this one is different. He is quick to beg for her to open her lips so he can explore as much of her as humanly possible, he is letting all the passions loose that he’s been locking up these past months and when she returns it just as eagerly it just pushes him even further.

They inch back to the wall of the house and when he pins her against it a moan slips past her swollen lips, completely maddening him.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her jawline, savoring the sweet taste of her skin that’s supposed to be cold, but it’s actually burning. For him.

He keeps one hand on the side of her neck, the other one digs into her hip through her coat and she keeps pushing against him, while her hands wander under his coat, they are on his waist, back and when they move to his lower stomach, brushing against his belt, something snaps inside him.

But before he could completely lose his mind the backdoor opens and he quickly sobers up, pulling her farther away from the corner so they can’t be seen.

“...and that was actually crazy,” a girl speaks up, oblivious to how Harry has Y/N pinned against the wall just a few feet away. They are both breathing heavily, but she has her face buried in his shoulder while he covers his mouth with a hand, adrenaline racing through his veins.

“Ah shit, I’m out of cigarettes,” another girl says.

“Mm let’s get out of here then. I think Max said they are having a little party as well.”

“Okay.”

Then the door opens again and the voices disappear, but reality hits Harry hard in the head.

He slowly pulls back, enough to look at her face and when he sees her swollen lips and slightly smeared mascara he almost combusts.

Because he wants nothing more than to take her, right here and then everywhere else in the world, but he also realizes what he just did and this time his rational side wins.

“Fuck,” he gasps as he jumps back, cupping a hand over his mouth.

“I wanted it–”

“Y/N, stop!” he cuts her off. “Fuck, this was a mistake.”

“But I wanted it! You didn’t–”

“I said stop!” he barks and she shuts her mouth right away. “This shouldn’t have happened.”

And before she could protest again or worse, kiss him again, he is already storming back inside, across the house towards the front door.

“Harry! I haven’t seen you all night!” Stella catches him, but he just wants to get as far away from this house and from Y/N as possible.

“I’m sorry, I need to go. I’ll talk to you later,” is all he manages to say before he is already out the door.

Thank you for reading, please like and reblog if you enjoyed and buy me a coffee if you want to support me!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles blurb

1K notes · View notes

wileys-russo · 2 months ago

Text

lipstick stains II f.rolfö

another (sort of) lil christmas fic lipstick stains II f.rolfö

"frido!" you huffed with a scowl as her legs collected yours after you'd already passed the ball to caro, sending you to the ground in a crumpled heap right as the whistles sounded to call training to a finish.

"sorry!" the blonde looked down at you with a grin that showed she really was anything but, offering you a hand up as you brushed the dirt from your knees and smacked your palm into hers allowing her to tug you up and to your feet.

"don't you look before you slide?" you grumbled, still flicking off excess grass as everyone started to head in for the afternoon. "someone get grumpy a hot chocolate before her sugar levels drop!" vicky teased, sprinting away as your eyes narrowed.

"diabetes is a serious issue!" you yelled after her as she only laughed, almost tackling jana to the ground as she jumped on her back demanding a ride inside.

"what? it is!" you defended to your friends who all seemed more amused than concerned, waving your hand at them and muttering under your breath nobody took it seriously enough.

"we know. you only remind us hmm five times a day?" ingrid mused as you laughed bitterly and shot her a dirty look, sandwiched between her and frido as kika, ewa and mapi chattered away just a few steps behind.

"no no, maybe six times a day?" the swede beside you chimed in as you shoved the pair of them and stomped off ahead, ingrid dropping back as the tall blonde widened her strides to catch up with you.

"fridolina!" you hissed quietly feeling her hand collide with your ass once she fell into step with you again. "what? i was just brushing off some dirt!" the girl defended with a wink, holding her hands up as your eyes rolled.

"mm i'm sure rolfö." you hummed skeptically, ghost of a smile on your lips as your cleats echoed against the hard floor of the training center, everyone making a beeline for the change rooms, arguments of who was showering first already heard to be breaking out.

"i'm gonna go to recovery, get a massage. coming?" the girl grabbed your hand before you could step through the doors, tugging you out of the way as mapi honked your nose and raced away before you could get a hand on her.

"is it your knee?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing together with concern and allowing yourself to be lead further down the hall toward the physio wing.

though you weren't given an answer, a squeal silenced by her hand over your mouth as you were sharply tugged into the equipment room, the defender peering out cautiously and checking no one had seen before shutting and locking the door after you.

"this does not look like recovery." you crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow accusingly to the taller girl who gasped sarcastically.

"is it not? shoot i thought it was this room!" she snapped her fingers together with a sigh and shake of her head, your attempts to fight off your smile failing miserably.

"ah! there it is." the girl beamed as you immediately pursed your lips back into a straight line feigning a lack of amusement. "this is actually recovery for you." the defender nodded matter of factually, moving a little closer as you hummed.

"oh is it?" "yes. i noticed you seemed a little...tightly strung today?" "oh have you now?" "yes i have. so, tell me where you need some work." the girls lips curled into a smirk as you shook your head, corner of your mouth twitching as she wiggled her eyebrows goofily and you cracked.

"you are so annoying this time of year!" you let out a small laugh, shoving her shoulder as the blonde shrugged. "well you never minded before!" she pointed out, wagging a finger at you which you batted away.

the two of you had been seeing one another a mere five months now, though you'd be lying if you said you hadn't harbored some more than friendly feelings you'd both been in denial of for much much longer.

but never both single you both scolded yourselves for them, jumping in and out of relationships with others and never considering the latter.

until finally you had both been without someone for long enough that these bottled up feelings just had to burst to the surface and simply couldn't be ignored any longer.

"that was before you started knocking me on my ass for no reason, pulling me into closets and leaving me high and dry before training." you warned, eyes narrowing as the defender smiled cheekily.

"oh did i?" she gasped feigning innocence as you narrowed your eyes. "yes you did. oh sötsaker we can't, we will be late. did you not want to drive separately again?" you mocked her pulling a face.

"well it was your idea not to keep showing up together, we do not live close enough to be a convenient excuse for carpooling! remember?" "correct. but did you have to remind me of that after you put your hand down my pants?" you hissed smacking her a few times as she shielded her face.

"i told you it has a mind of its own älskling, it slipped!" she laughed, shielding herself again as you hit her a few more times for good measure.

"oh it slipped?" you pouted sarcastically, trying to move around her but hands fell to your hips, pushing you backward till your back hit a wall.

"also. i would say we pulled each other out of the closet, no?" "frido!" "what?" "you are so unroman-." "look! mistletoe."

your eyes flickered upward at the interruption, some sort of plastic leaf held between her fingers and above your heads. "that is not mistletoe." you bit down on your bottom lip to stop from smiling at her efforts.

"it is! it is spanish mistletoe." she nodded seriously, one hand still moving up to your waist, slipping beneath the soft material of your training shirt, thumb tracing your bare skin fondly.

"spanish mistletoe?" "yes! grown exclusively in barcelona, very rare." the girl oohed as you couldn't help but snicker, reaching up and plucking it from between her fingers, tossing it over your shoulder as your hand settled to the back of her neck pulling her mouth toward yours.

"shut up and kiss me dåre."

"-then after the copa i will fly home see my family for the holidays, i have been waiting to spend proper time in sweden." you sighed happily, you and esmee discussing your plans for the impending break, the entire team and some staff out for an end of year dinner before everyone flew to tenerife tomorrow.

"yeah! the first week i will be with my family for christmas in my home town, and then for new years i will see my girl-" you caught the tail end of her sentence and subtly stomped down on the blonde besides you foot as she winced but caught the hint.

"your what?" aitana asked slowly, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "my...girl gang!" frido smiled painfully as even you gave her an odd side eye for the attempted cover up. "what is this, girl gang?" aitana whispered to keira beside her who grinned wolfishly.

"i don't know! frido, what is a girl gang?" the english woman smirked as your fellow swede stumbled over her words trying to explain, uncharacteristically flourished until attention was averted elsewhere.

"oh! you will get to meet your sisters baby finally, yes?" ingrid realised with a small gasp from across the table as you grinned. "send photos of the niña!" mapi warned, mouth half full of bread as her girlfriend made a face of disgust and pinched her hand in warning.

everyone was interrupted by the waiters arriving to take orders, thankfully starting down the other end as you hadn't even glanced at the menu yet, a few others also hastily scanning it to make a decision.

"do you want to get the tuna crudo, the scallops and the prawn hot pot then split it like last time?" frido murmured beside you, finger tapping at the menu as you nodded happily, the pair of you having had dinner at this japanese restaurant a few times now.

"have you been here before?" esmee asked with a slight frown of confusion, your mouth opening and closing as you exchanged a glance with the blonde who oh so conveniently decided she needed to use the bathroom.

"no! we just cannot decide, it all looks so good so we will share." you covered quickly, esmee frowning further but before she could question it again she was thankfully pulled into conversation with pina sat on her other side.

feeling your phone vibrate in the pocket of your blazer you pulled it out, eyes scanning the message with a slight roll of your eyes and once you'd ordered yours and frido's food you excused yourself to the bathroom.

"that was close!" the blonde exhaled as you shot her a dirty look as she closed the bathroom door after you. "your girl gang?" you snickered, the defenders cheeks heating up a little as she grumbled it was all she could come up with.

"fridolina no i am not sitting in the stall of a restaurant making out with you. wait till we get home!" you warned seriously as the taller girl attempted to take your hand and pull you into a stall.

"home hm?" the blonde grinned, the two of you already planning to stay at her place tonight having driven to dinner together. "i like that. home, our home." she tutted with a sigh as you gave a small smile and pushed her shoulder.

"unless you would like to pay out the next four months of my lease solsken, keep dreaming." you teased, turning to leave but tugged back into her arms. "did you really come running here to not kiss me?" your girlfriend gasped quietly, lips curled in amusement.

"well your text said; come here please." you reminded her with a chuckle, but craning your neck up as your lips pressed to hers, exhaling slightly at the intoxicating taste of her kiss.

"no! no we can't." you warned but it came out much weaker than intended as her lips moved from your mouth down to your neck, sucking at your pulse point as your protests sounded more like a half moan.

"no, we can. we just should not!" the girl smiled against your skin, your back pressed into the counter as she continued her assault on your neck and your mumbled protests were slowly silenced into shaky exhales.

however all of that came to an end as the door banged open and you sprang away from one another, you spinning around to pretend washing your hands and your girlfriend hurrying off into a stall.

though thankfully the woman who clearly had a clear objective in mind paid neither one of you any attention, the stall locking loudly as you breathed a sigh of relief and strode off toward the door.

though you barely made it back to the table, arriving and just about to take your seat again when ingrid shot out of hers, grabbing your wrist and dragging you back away again.

"ing! what? i just went to the bathroom and-" you tried to pull your arm free but the norwegian had a surprisingly strong grip, pulling you out of sight toward the kitchen.

"what are you-" your confusion grew as she pushed you into the accessibility toilet, flicking the lock and blocking the door. "so. how long?" the raven haired defender questioned, crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes.

"how long what-" your words fell short as ingrid gestured to her neck, nodding for you to look behind you as you spun around, eyes widening as you took yourself in the mirror.

"jag ska döda henne!" you gasped, your neck covered in easily a dozen faint but still noticeable lipstick marks whom you knew exactly to blame for, your own lipstick a little smeared around your mouth as you winced.

"how long?" ingrid asked again taking a few steps closer and rummaging around in her bag, though this time she spoke with a tiny smile as you groaned, accepting her offer of a makeup wipe and beginning to rid yourself of the evidence.

"since august, we just were not ready to tell anyone yet ingrid." you spoke with a tone of apology, the norweigans face softening as she reached out to squeeze your shoulder. "hey i am not mad, i promise." she assured as your hand fell over hers in appreciation.

"i just wish you had told me so i had someone else to drag to those handball games your girlfriend is so insistent maría and i come to!" she groaned jokingly making you laugh as you checked your neck, the marks now thankfully gone.

"who do you think suggested the two of you should accompany her? i love her but i hate handball." you grinned, ingrids face lighting up as she handed you a new lipstick to redo your now bare lips.

"you love her huh?" the girl sang out teasingly as your cheeks blushed pink. "i do, we are meeting one anothers families for the holidays." you smiled softly.

"well, meeting one another families as now dating and not just friends." you corrected, having met one anothers parents and siblings countless times considering you'd played together for club and country for years.

"well this is nice, i am very very happy for both of you." ingrid pulled you into a tight hug once your makeup was fixed up, the two of you quickly making your way back to the table afterwards, starters already arriving as you sat back down.

"guess what!" aitana grinned from across the table, accented english thick as you smiled curiously. "i learn what a girl gang is." the brunette nodded as you hummed, waiting for her answer as you sipped on your drink.

"you and frido! girl gang." aitana sat back with a happy smile, keira covering her laugh with her hand as you choked on your water, esmee patting your back as frido quickly handed you a napkin to wipe your chin with an apologetically pained look.

question after question fired at you and your girlfriend who'd sank down in her chair with an embarrassed look on her face, your eyes meeting ingrids across the table who scrunched her nose up in a half smile.

"well, it was not just me who noticed the lipstick stains before i pulled you away jente."

#fridolina rolfö x reader #woso x reader #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics

752 notes · View notes

sorrysisx · 28 days ago

Text

big sister who runs a siscon blog x little sister who doesn't know that she's getting off to porn her big sister wrote about her.

Somewhere there's a girl out there, so stoned as to be catatonic, a zombie, a slave to her fucking hands, going for round three over a story her big sister wrote specifically about her. And she has no idea.

Imagine what must have gone through her big sister's head when she caught her? She's awake, late at night, stumbling out of her bedroom to piss. An earbud playing some song, droning out her thoughts, as she relieves herself, half asses washing her hands, and as she starts walking back down the hall she notices the crack in her little sister's door. "She probably just forgot to close it," she'll think, "I'll just close it for her."

She never understood what possessed her to peek in through the crack before she shut the door. Her ears started ringing louder than her earbuds could ever blast. Her face heats up, her chest sinks, her pulse spikes. Her little sister, spread out on her chair in front of her monitor in the dark, obliterating her cunt with her fingers. A river of slick runs down her ass, soaking the chair, and if the wetness on the desk in front of her was anything to go by, her little sister was a squirter.

And what does her big sister see but her own fucking tumblr on her little sister's monitor.

It wasn't her most popular post, it wasn't her most depraved--it was the one she made when she had spent a night sobbing into her pillows, touching herself, lamenting that she could never date her little sister, only allowing herself one night of pleasure--whether or not her little sister liked it.

Unsteady legs did their best to carry her back to her bedroom. Once the door was shut behind her, she crammed the other earbud into her ear, changed her playlist, grabbed the last bit of stolen underwear she had taken from that brats laundry pile, and took the deepest breath of her life.

Her hand immediately dashes between her legs as she masturbates harder than she ever fucking has in her life. She licks a hot stripe across the crotch of her little sister's panties, and starts to sob. She sobs so, so loudly, all too aware that her little sister is on the other side of the wall, and god what is she even crying about? Is it joy? Despair? Hope? Does she even fucking care?

It's not like she could really stop herself.

Her hips buck and ache, and the name of her little sister sits on the tip of her tongue, and she bites it, trying to hold it in, trying to have some dignity tonight. But she knows she can't, and tries so, so desperately to spit the taste of her name out of her mouth. But one moan turns into another, then another, and before she knows it the only thing she can say is the name of the girl in the next room over. On the other side of the wall, her little sister finally moans her big sister's name and cums again, a fountain of slick shooting out across her desk and even landing on her keyboard as she desperately tries to catch some in her mouth. As she stops to catch her breath, notice the time, and eventually decide that she should head to bed, her headphones come off and her computer shuts down.

Her head hits the pillow, but not before she thinks she hears her name from the other room.

580 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 months ago

Note

hiiiiiiiii mae <3 i have an idea for thawing out series. what about if reader has a 'moment' w one of them and the other boy gets slightly cranky bc of it but then is also confused bc he doesn't know if he wants r or the other boy.........and then EPIPHANY 😈

Thanks for your request! The mood of it got altered some but I hope you like it :)

collab with @ellecdc

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some hurt w/o comfort but dw we'll fix it down the line

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.6k words

“Pads!” Remus shouts across the ice. “Focus!”

Sirius’ cheeks pinken slightly as he tears his stare away from the Russian soloist practicing her quads. You laugh and say something to him that makes him pinch your waist meanly, as if you’ve been acting any better.

You and Sirius are completely starstruck. Remus wants to be irritated at your distractibility, but it’s sort of adorable. You nearly fall on your bum watching the Austrian team run drills, Sirius is too busy eye-flirting with a Swedish skater to remember he’s supposed to be going into a turn, and you both stop your routine entirely when the Canadian duo steps out onto the ice.

You and Sirius draw plenty of stares yourselves, though naturally only Sirius appears to notice. He shoots a wink at a skater admiring him and a glare at another looking too closely at you, his hand possessively on your lower back anytime you’re not running your routine.

Altogether it means you have to spend a couple of extra hours learning to work through this specific brand of stage fright and running your drills again after you all get your heads turned multiple times, but Remus lets it slide. He remembers being just as dazzled during his first Olympics, seventeen years old and feeling like he’d somehow snuck into the hall of fame, an imposter among legends.

Part of him hopes that the embarrassment of having to do a half-ass death spiral in front of so many professionals will make Sirius finally go all the way, but no such luck. He keeps you firmly above where you ought to be, expression impassive even as Remus can see you pleading with him with your eyes. Still, the rest of the routine goes well, and Remus tries not to let it get under his skin. He hopes you’re right and Sirius really will pull through in the final hour; your faith in your partner is absolute, and Remus finds it easy to put his faith in you.

He lets you loose to spend the afternoon as you’d like, but it comes as no surprise when he sees you both on the ice again. Remus knows you’ve likely got plenty of nerves to work off. It’s one thing to compete in your home country, another entirely to represent your home country while competing amongst the best figure skaters in the world. He calls you off the ice before one of you can overexert yourselves and pull something. Sirius swears up and down that his ankle hasn’t bothered him since the day after he hurt it, and Remus hasn’t seen anything to make him suspect differently, but he knows better than to take risks with a healing injury. You spend the rest of the afternoon playing cards and gambling for candies in Sirius’ room.

Eventually you disperse to go to bed. Remus’ hip has been bothering him since the flight the previous day, so he goes on a walk to stretch it out. It’s odd, he thinks, how easy things have come to feel between the three of you. When he first arrived, Remus had every intention of setting up strict professional boundaries, of knowing you only as your coach and seeing you only during practice times. And then you started practicing together, and it seemed like his boundaries wouldn’t even be necessary. Sirius hated him, and besides that the two of you existed in a bubble no one could penetrate, intimate and trusting only each other. Now, after learning about what your former coach did to you, Remus understands why that was necessary. You were protecting each other, safeguarding your partnership and your careers. It would have made sense for you to keep Remus at more than an arm’s length, taking his coaching with grains of salt and keeping him well away from your private lives.

But then there have been days like today. Still bickering with Sirius, still watching the two of you interact with a familiarity only years of history can grant, but feeling warm and welcome despite it all. It feels easy, to tease Sirius and let him snipe back. To let you lean your shoulder into his and not move away. It feels good.

Remus’ hip is feeling fairly good too by the time he gets back, sore from the exercise but not so stiff. As he makes his way to his room, passing Sirius’ and then yours on the way, he sees light sneaking through the crack underneath your door.

He frowns. It’s late, and you’re meant to practice again early tomorrow morning, your last day of practice before you compete. You should be well rested. As he approaches your door, he hears sound coming from inside. Low, crackling voices, and a song that tugs at the fringes of his memory. Then a sound he knows too well, the shushing of skates on ice.

Remus knocks. The door is thin enough that he hears your little gasp and a quiet snap, and when you say “come in,” it sounds like a question.

He suppresses a smile, opening your door cautiously in case you didn’t really mean it.

You’re sitting on your bed, one hand atop your shut laptop. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he says, leaning against the doorway. “It’s late.”

“I know.” You look almost shy. Between that and the pajamas you have on, plaid little shorts and a bulky sweatshirt, Remus has the urge to pinch your chin between his fingers. “Sorry, I was just watching some, um…”

“Figure skating videos.” Your lips part, and he says, “I could hear them from outside.”

“Oh.” You laugh. It’s a nice sound, one Remus can happily say he’s come to know well, but this one is woven through with nerves. “That’s embarrassing.”

“Why is it embarrassing?” he asks honestly. “It’s normal to want to study your competition. And they’re fun, I still watch them all of the time.”

“It’s not…” You give him a tentative look, then scoot over on your bed. “Do you want to see?”

Remus can’t imagine you’re watching anything he hasn’t seen a million times, but he is curious which are your favorites. He’s careful to sit on top of your covers, a few inches between your leg and his. The bed doesn’t allow for anything more.

“Fuck, did they really have to go back to making them out of cardboard?”

That gets another nervous laugh out of you as you open your laptop screen, playing the video. And Remus knows then where he’s heard the music before. It’s his music. You’re watching his old routine, a niche one from a small competition back in Wales. Remus was fourteen when this was filmed.

He glances at you, and you’re watching the video with your bottom lip trapped between your teeth, the colors of the screen dancing across your eyes.

“I’ve always admired how tight your form was,” you say. “You were so young, but it was obvious you were putting the work in.”

“I practiced a lot,” Remus agrees. “Too much, really.”

The nostalgia he feels for figure skating is bittersweet when he watches videos like this. He remembers spending all his time in the rink, every hour he wasn’t in school or at home, nothing spared for friends or hobbies. He did love it, but in loving it he forgot to build a life outside of it. Life was constant motion, training and competitions and awards whirling around him like the rink during a spin; by the time he had his accident anyone that might have been his friend had their own friends, and Remus realized he may have been lonely for years.

“I’m really glad you agreed to coach us.” You’re still watching the video, young Remus doing a camel spin. “You’ve made us a lot better, both of us. I know Sirius is going to end up fixing the spiral, and I’m going to try my best, and…I really hope we can make you proud.”

“You will,” Remus says, instead of you already do. It feels wrong to take any credit for how incredible you are, either one of you, but that is what he feels when he sees you out on the ice. Proud. He looks at you carefully. “You’ve seemed wound pretty tightly lately.”

Your eyes drop, no longer looking at young Remus but not at the older one either.

“It’s alright to be nervous,” he says gently, “so long as you know that you deserve to be here. You’re going to do great.”

You rub your lips together. “Were you nervous during your Olympics? Is it okay for you to talk about?”

“Yeah,” Remus says, a bit surprised, “it’s fine. I was nervous. I was…” he chuckles “I was freaking out, honestly. But when I got out there, it was really just like any rink. The music and the routine were the same, so I just let myself get lost in it. I almost forgot where I was until it was over, and people were waving flags at me and all that from the stands.” He feels his lips curve with the memory. Bumps your shoulder lightly with his. “It’s not so bad. Anyway, I think it’s got to be better to go through it with someone else. I was on my own, but you’ll have Sirius with you.”

You give him a little sideways smile. “And you, right?”

A fond warmth blooms in Remus’ chest. “And me.”

“Has it been difficult for you to coach us?” you ask him tentatively. “I mean, to come back?”

Remus takes a deep breath. “Yeah,” he says after a minute. “At first, it really was. I’m not proud of it, and I don’t think I really knew it at the time, but I was jealous of both of you. Anytime you did something differently than I would have, I got so frustrated that you were throwing away these opportunities I would kill to have again. It was easy to look at either one of you and wish I was in your place.”

You’re nodding, not a trace of hurt or offense in your expression. You look at him like you understand.

“But that stopped a long time ago,” he says. “After I worked with you for longer, it became clear you’re both very different skaters than I was.” You huff a laugh, and Remus nudges your shoulder admonishingly. “That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I think early on I wasn’t a very good coach to you because I couldn’t see your individual strengths. But now I think I can, and it’s really a privilege to watch you skate together. It’s lovely. And I’ve loved getting to know you and Sirius, too. So, yeah, it was difficult at first, but I’m really glad I came on. And I’m glad you were patient enough to let me stay.”

That got a bit more earnest than he intended. Remus feels heat rise to his face, but you’re still nodding, thoughtful, like you’re trying to wrap your head around it. He sees you rub your lips together again.

“I really want to do well,” you say softly, “but I’m not the skater Sirius is. I don’t have his natural talent, and I don’t flourish under pressure the way he does. I—that’s usually when I mess up.” Remus’ chest aches at the vulnerability in your voice, his hand moving unconsciously to cover yours on the bed. Some of the tension goes out of you at the touch. “I’ve tried my whole life to keep up with him, but I’m never quite there, and you guys, you’ve both been these incredible, talented skaters…” Your eyes meet his, timid and ashamed. “I’m afraid I’m going to let you both down.”

“Are you kidding?” You drop your gaze, and a surprised little laugh trips off Remus’ tongue as he ducks his head to follow, holding your hand more securely. “I’m sorry, that was rash, but really. How can you think that? You’re one of the most talented skaters I’ve ever seen.”

You’re still avoiding his gaze. He takes your chin in his hand, gentle, an encouragement more than anything, but you let him turn you towards him.

“I don’t care how much of it comes from natural aptitude,” he says firmly. “You’re an incredible skater. Even when I didn’t know you at all, it was obvious that you care about this more than Sirius or I likely ever have. That’s important. You can see it in how hard you train, and in how you move on the ice.” Remus shakes his head, expelling a breath. “It’s mesmerizing. You’re beautiful to watch.”

You’re not shying away from him now, but Remus doesn’t let go of you. Your expression is wide open, diffident but curious. He goes on.

“The way you skate, it’s not just about the motions or the art of it, it’s joyous. Anyone can see how happy you are out there. That’s what makes you so good. You really love it.”

“You did, too,” you murmur.

His voice softens in kind. “I did. But not the way you do.”

Your eyes lower, but this time he allows you it. Remus is suddenly acutely aware of your leg where it's pressed up against his, of his own heartbeat. He’s still holding your hand.

You wet your lips. “Do you really mean all that?”

“Why would I give you a whole speech I didn’t believe?”

You crack a smile. “Some coaches call it a pep talk.”

“You’re beautiful to watch,” he says again, voice dropping to a murmur as he realizes you’re staring at his lips. He breathes in, and the distance between you lessens. “You’re beautiful.”

Remus knows he’s judged you rightly when your hand comes around his waist, pressing into the softness of his jumper to glean an impression of the skin underneath. You kiss like you skate, with a sweet eagerness, ready to explore and wanting to learn. Your lips part, inspiring a similar parting in Remus, and you let out a breath with a soft humming sound.

Remus' nerves are alight underneath your hand on his side. He angles his torso to get you closer, free hand coasting up your thigh. Your fingers bunch in his jumper, kisses picking up heat as he lets his hand settle at the small of your back, an echo of how Sirius touched you this morning when—

Sirius.

Remus draws away from you so suddenly he hears you gasp. He still has your face in his hand, can feel the flustered warmth of it before he removes that too, putting distance between you.

“Sorry.” His voice is hoarse. Guilt burns in the back of his throat. “Sorry, it’s not you. I just, I—”

Sirius. Sirius. Sirius.

“I didn’t think that through.” He can feel his heartbeat in his mouth. Sirius is in love with you. Remus is only just starting to feel like a part of your team, but this could send you all back in time. Kissing one of his skaters, who the other is in love with? His stomach hurts. “I’m your coach, and you—we have a big competition coming up. I shouldn’t have done that.”

He edges off your bed, looking at you while he does. Your lips are still parted, eyes wide.

“It was a really shit idea,” he says, “and I’m so sorry. It’s my fault.”

You rub your lips together. Remus feels it like you’re still moving them against his own. “It’s fine,” you say on a breath. “We can forget it.”

“I’m so sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay.” You’re shaking your head, and he’s backing away, both of you like deer caught in headlights. “You’re right, it was silly. We’re professionals, we can get past it.”

Remus feels himself nodding, feels the handle of your door in his hand.

“Practice in the morning?” you ask weakly.

He pushes out a breath as he opens the door. “Yeah. Six thirty.”

698 notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 5 months ago

Text

TALK, TALK₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

logan howlett x mutant!reader

cw: fluff, sweet logan

a/n: inspired by the charli xcx song<3 everything in spanish and french is from google translate so if it's incorrect, that why.

you were no stranger to crushes. they always showed up out of the blue; you couldn't help it. all it took was one glance, a smile, a bit of small talk, anything really. none of this changed when he entered your life.

maybe cupid had struck you in the ass at some point.

for weeks, everyone in the mansion knew where your feelings had floated. normally, you try not to develop any crushes on the people you see daily but this guy was different. even sort of dangerous; the thrill excited you.

"you don't understand, storm." you groan, helping her train downstairs. "there's just something about him. i can't explain it."

your dear friend laughs, swinging at the boxing bag again. "i'm not saying not to go after him... just be careful is all."

"well, there's nothing to worry about because he hasn't even talked to me." a small sigh escapes you.

"he hasn't talked to you?" she questions. you shake your head. "that's odd. i wonder why not?"

"well, he keeps to himself." you shrug, thinking of excuses besides the fact that he likely doesn't share the same feelings you do.

"hm... have you tried talking to him?"

"nooo." you giggle nervously. "absolutely not! you know how i get when i actually have to talk to people i have crushes on."

"i know." storm joins in on your laughter. "it's like someone set you on top of a stove; you just start melting."

"it all comes out like, 'blah, blah, blah'."

"you never know, maybe he speaks 'blah, blah, blah' too."

little did storm know that her words would linger around in your head every time you see him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

obliviousness was not a trait logan had. he noticed everything; whether he liked it or not. in this case, he didn't mind noticing everything about you.

it started when he saw a shadow following him to the cafeteria, down the hall, and to the training room. he tried to be polite and ignore it; too afraid to scare you off entirely.

a couple days after your talk with storm, charles sent the older mutants out on a mission. this included storm, scott, logan, and yourself. upon the return, all of the older mutants gathered in the kitchen to unwind. you, storm, and kurt sat together at the table. the two of them bickered back and forth about something silly that happened during the mission.

it wasn't fair how good logan looked during the mission. the tight black spandex did wonders for his form. it felt like some high school crush. butterfly's always in your stomach when he looks at you.

on the other side of the room, logan sat in a wooden chair next to hank, with a cigar dangling from his lips. it must've felt like you were burning holes into the side of his head. even storm had to nudge you to look away from him, telling you to stop giving him 'heart eyes'.

"think someone's got a crush on you, pal." hank teases logan. "heard she's been waiting for you to talk to her."

you looked pretty, sitting at the table with a slight red stain on the inside of your lips, matching the flush of red on your cheeks when you notice him catching you staring. logan couldn't think of anything that compare to the ethereal sight before him.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

the glass of red wine on your hand was now empty, allowing you to excuse yourself from their conversation for a moment. at the counter, you pour yourself another glass; finishing off the bottle. when you turn to toss the bottle in the trash, you bump into someone.

"s-sorry." you squeal before realizing that it was logan that you bumped into.

"no need to apologize." he assures.

one of logan's big wide palms places itself on your waist, helping keep you upright. all of the wine flooded your mind, unable to form a proper sentence.

"dios mío, eres tan hermoso." you ramble drunkenly shooting stars from your eyes.

*oh my god, you're so gorgeous.

logan couldn't be more confused by your suddenly language switch but he found it awfully amusing. it wasn't a total surprise, he knew you were incredibly intelligent. charles always sang your praises. if you were even a little bit sober right now, you would be mortified.

"whatcha' thinking about, sweetheart?" he smirks, loving how flustered you became.

little did you know, the 200 year old mutant has definitely picked up on some different languages over his lifetime. to logan it didn't even matter whether or not he understood what you meant, he just wanted you to keep talking.

"je veux embrasser ton joli visage." your tongue runs over your bottom lip.

*wanna kiss your pretty face.

"hm... tell me more." logan purrs into your ear. completely forgetting about everyone else in the room.

"he estado enamorado de ti durante meses, ¿sabes?"

*i've had a crush on you for months, you know?

"je pense à toi tous les jours." you step closer, drunk with confidence. "pendant les entraînements, en mission, seule au lit... tout le temps."

*i think about you everyday. during training, on missions, alone in bed... all the time.

"such a smart girl, aren't 'cha, honey?" he groans softly at your words.

it took everything in logan not to kiss you right here, right now. he wanted you to remember the first time he kissed you.

"je veux être ta copine, logan." you whisper in his ear.

*wanna be your girl, logan.

"¿puedes guardar mi secreto?"

*can you keep my secret?

he never wanted you to stop talking; loving every word that falls from your foreign lips.

it wasn't long until storm, pulls you away hoping she caught you before you said anything you would regret. logan didn't mind, too excited to see you in the morning.

₊˚⊹ ʚɞ

when you woke up, your head was pounding. nothing worse than a wine hangover. you couldn't remember anything after jean poured you a third glass of wine. you took two aspirins and laid in bed for an extra hour before you finally made it downstairs for breakfast.

logan smelled your lavender scented shampoo the second you stepped out of your room. he had been downstairs waiting for you. everyone had already started their day, off either teaching or training. not him though, he had different plans for his day.

"morning." logan said to you as you walked into the kitchen. your heart fluttered, he could hear it.

"good morning." you reply meekly as you grab a plate and some utensils.

he sips on his plain black coffee while you place two waffles and some fruit onto your plate. theres a small stack of books next to logan on the table but you don't give it a second glance.

"wanna sit?" he asks you.

this was a completely different side of logan compared to the usually grumpy version of him that everyone sees.

"sure."

"did you have fun last night?"

he needed to test the waters on what you remember. by the late arrival to breakfast, logan's guess was not much.

"would you believe me if i said that i can't remember much?" you giggle nervously as you bite into a strawberry. "i was probably being boring in some corner."

you couldn't have been more wrong, logan thinks to himself. the two of you have some small talk for a while, enjoying each others company. this wasn't helping your crush from spreading.

once you cleared your plate and logan finished his coffee, both of you get up to place your dishes into the sink when you noticed the books in logan's hands. one spine read 'beginners guide to french' and the other read 'spanish for dummies'.

in a flash, everything came hurtling back at you full speed. this wasn't yours and logan's first conversation alone together.

"¿Qué pasa cariño?" logan asks, voice filled with desire as he cages you against the sink. his lips ghosted over your own; tempting you beyond your strengths. "je pensais que tu voulais que je te parle ?"

*what's wrong, sweetheart?

*i thought you wanted me to talk to you?

"et merde." you whisper before pulling on the collar of his flannel, smashing his lips into yours.

*fuck it.

the sheer taste of the other drove both of you insane. the mix of logan's coffee and tobacco contrasting with your sweet syrup and fruity taste was intoxicating. you pull back, needing to catch your breath. logan's lips moved south, sucking a dark purple bruise on your pulse point.

"better than i imaged." logan groans, obsessed with your every being.

"imagine si tu m'avais parlé plus tôt ?" you wink down at him.

*imagine if you had talked to me sooner?

logan chuckles, bending to pick you up. "love that mouth of yours, sweetheart. lets see what other languages it speaks."

872 notes · View notes

the-witty-pen-name · 1 month ago

Text

The Love Triangle from Hell (1)

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

Synopsis: Nancy is with Jonathan; Steve is still in love with Nancy; You're in love with Steve; Eddie's in love with you; Robin just wanted to have a movie night but everyone is making it weird.

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: messy messy feelings; unrequited love; cursing; arguments; crying; angst angst angsty angst; drinking; Robin literally just trying to live her life but her friends are all idiots

A/N: I'm going to let y'all decide who our reader ends up with for this one- please let me know who you think our reader should pick! I think this will be another 5 part series. Please let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs and hitting up my asks are always so so so appreciated.

This series with be 18+ in later chapters MINORS DNI

It was always Nancy. No matter what it always came back to Nancy. It happened over and over and over like a broken record. Like a glutton for punishment, you always went back for more thinking to yourself this time it’s going to be different. Squished on the lumpy loveseat with Robin, you watch Steve as he watches Nancy. You were pathetic and you knew it. Hopelessly in love with someone who’d never in a million years look at you the way he’s looking at her.

Eddie sits on the floor between your legs with his back rested against the front of the couch as you aimlessly braid his hair. You run your fingers through his hair, carefully navigating through the tangles. You pull strains and weave them together without needing to think about it- you’ve done it a million times before. Eddie would let you do whatever you wanted, he loved the feeling of your hands in his hair. He’d lean his head back as far as he could manage, and shoot you an upside down smile. It always made you giggle before you would use your palm to gently put his head back into place.

It was quite a sight for Robin, like the most fucked daytime drama never written, if she knew how to read the room and pick up on the very obvious clues before her. Steve, her platonic soulmate and best friend, pining over his ex-girlfriend while you, her other best friend, pine over Steve and all the while Eddie, Steve’s roommate and your other best friend, pines over you. It was enough to make her sick. All the while, Nancy is completely oblivious as she checks her watch, waiting expectantly for Jonathan- her actual boyfriend- to arrive. Despite the mess before her, Robin was none the wiser.

She knew Steve was still hung up on Nancy, because he never shut up about her during their shifts. However, you felt you kept your lovesick crush on Steve under pretty good wraps. Unfortunately, Eddie was so preoccupied with you that he felt it every time your eyes were on Steve or he’d witnessed all the small things you’d do that convinced him you actually liked Steve.

He’d watch as you couldn’t make eye contact with Steve, looking everywhere but him when he spoke. He’d watch the way you’d steal glances at him when you thought no one else was looking. He’d see the way you’d take a deep breath to compose yourself when you’d see Steve looking at Nancy. The same way you’d break your own heart looking around for Steve, he’d be doing the same looking at you watching him.

You’d watched one too many movies where the guy realizes the right girl all along was his best friend. You thought if you were patient, Steve would realize he’d been in love with you the whole time and he never realized it. If you’re there for him in his times of heartbreak, he’d see that you’re so much better for him than anyone else. He’d see you, really see you, and know you were the one who was always there.

“This movie doesn’t make any sense,” Robin said suddenly before reaching for the bowl of popcorn at the coffee table.

“Anthony Michael Hall is making a robot girlfriend because he can’t get girls,” Steve explains, coming off a little perturbed that Robin was talking during the movie again.

“They could’ve just asked out a couple of more girls- they didn’t need to let their end all be all be two girls with boyfriends,” she continues and Steve scoffs. He couldn’t believe he was really about to have a debate on realism with Robin right now over fucking Weird Science.

“This’ll actually happen one day,” Eddie muses and is met with four heads whipping around to give him the same weird look. “You’re telling me that like fifty years from now, no one will have this figured out? AV geeks are desperate enough- Ow!” You’d hit him playfully on the back of the head.

“You’re not one to criticize anyone for being desperate, Munson,” Steve chuckles and Eddie promptly flips him off. “You don’t exactly have them lining up for you either.”

“It’s been a pretty dry few years yourself King Steve,” Eddie mocks, and you see Steve crack his knuckles nervously, hating the conversation going down this road. No one meant for it to happen, but now you’re all wrapped up reflecting in your own loneliness that the mood of the evening was almost completely dampened.

“Can you guys be quiet,” Nancy chastises, “Some of us are trying to actually watch the movie.”

“You cannot be serious?” Robin giggles, “It’s a stupid movie, Nance.”

The night took a weird shift. Jonathan did eventually stroll in and Nancy was understandably hurt that he was so late. He pulled a kitchen chair over to sit next to where Nancy sat but she promptly decided to ignore him, silently stewing instead of causing a scene. Steve recoiled back into his own head- Eddie’s King Steve comment affecting him more than he thought it would. He watched Anthony Michael Hall and kept wondering if this would be his fate- no bitches. Had he really been that guy to have peaked in high school and then is destined to end up alone?

Steve’s comment towards Eddie made him also get lost in his own stream of self deprecating thoughts. He knew Steve was joking- but there was truth to it that made it sting. Eddie didn’t have a lot of experience with girls, most girls- hell including the one he was actually in love with- wanted really nothing to do with him. He wasn’t that guy. Girls didn’t look at him like that like they looked at Steve- how you looked at Steve. It made him jealous and sad and made him feel so painstakingly lonely despite being in a room full of his closest friends as you played with his hair. He could scream.

And as usual, you preoccupied yourself with Steve- thinking about what Steve could be thinking about or watching the way Steve anxiously rubbed his palms against his jeans. Was Steve thinking about Nancy? Maybe, just maybe, you could catch him looking at you, even if just once. Maybe Steve would get up and go to the kitchen, and it could be an opening for you to check in with him since he’s seemed off tonight. You felt hopeless.

Robin just assumed most people were quiet because they genuinely were watching the movie, but she realized something was wrong when she was the only person laughing. It couldn’t be that she was the only one who wanted to crack jokes or laugh at this godforsaken movie. She eventually caught on to something brewing in the air amongst her friends and it was incredibly unsettling.

“GOD! I can’t take it anymore!” She exclaims, and everyone jumps. “What is wrong with everybody tonight? You all are acting so effing weird and I can’t stand it.”

“Everyone’s fine, Robin,” you offer, trying to diffuse the tension. She shooks you a look. A “do you think I’m fucking stupid” look that could kill. Fair enough, you think to yourself.

“Clearly something is wrong,” she reiterates. Annoyed with Nancy, Jonathan takes the bait and casts the first stone.

“I don’t know,” Jonathan muses, looking at Nancy before letting out his irritation, “Might have to do with the fact you hang around with your ex all the time- and it’s clearly obvious he still has feelings for you.”

Nancy gasps, offended that Jonathan would bring a fight that they’d had before into the room for everyone to comment on. Jonathan knew how Steve felt, and Nancy’s refusal to acknowledge his concerns on numerous occasions has finally made Jonathan hit his breaking point. He needed her to realize that he wasn’t jealous of Steve- but Steve was jealous of him. Nancy denied that Steve still held feelings for her. She was actually oblivious.

“Steve and I are just friends!” Nancy insists, “I have told you that and told you that! It’s like you don’t trust me!”

“I don’t trust him!” Jonathan emphasizes. “Whether you want to acknowledge it or not, he still likes you and you still keep hanging around with him when you’re supposed to be with me, Nance.”

“I am with you! I’m your girlfriend, not his,” she snaps. “Steve, come on, please tell him he’s being ridiculous.”

Most unfortunately, Steve stutters. He hesitates and fumbles, and couldn’t lie fast enough. The pregnant seconds where he’s at a loss for words tells Jonathan everything he needs to know. It doesn’t feel good to know he was right.

“Sounds about right,” Jonathan scoffs.

“It’s not her fault-” Steve tried to interject.

“Stay out of it Steve,” Jonathan sighs, “please.”

This fight was not about Steve, and everyone knew it. This was about Jonathan, and the way he hurt when Nancy dismissed his feelings. It was about how she didn’t take his concerns seriously or ever was willing to talk about it. He was sick of being dismissed as paranoid or jealous. He knew Nancy had no idea how Steve felt, but it wasn’t an excuse to inadvertently gaslight him when he knew something felt off.

“I’m going home,” Nancy says, sitting up suddenly in hopes of making a swift exit to save her pride.

“Nope!” Robin interjects, “We aren’t done. I’m not letting any of you leave until all of it is out in the open. I can’t go on like this. You guys are my best friends and we are working all of this shit out.” She takes a steady breath and Nancy surprisingly sits back down calmly. “So props to Jonathan for getting the ball rolling,” Robin quips, “let’s actually keep talking things out, yeah?”

“Steve?” Nancy looks at him, and she looks hurt. She feels so betrayed- like all of the times they’ve spent together as friends has been a lie. A ruse to win her back- she feels lied to and like she’s simultaneously lost a friend in the same breath. It guts her. She’s too stunned to even know what to say.

Steve keeps his head down, too ashamed to look at anyone. He holds his head in his hands. You watch him intently, you absorb all his hurt like a sponge. You keep your gaze on him, wanting to reach out and comfort him. You look like a puppy who's been hit on the nose with a newspaper and Eddie scoffs.

“Something you’d like to share with the class, Munson?” Robin turns, picking up on Eddie’s disgust. He shakes his head and avoids her knowing gaze. Fuck it, he thinks to himself.

“I’m fucking pissed,” Eddie announces, standing up. The braid you were in the process of making slowly unravels as he moves. He looks to you and then to Steve. “I’m not even pissed at anyone, I’m just stewing in my own self-hatred because I’m in love with her.” Eddie points to you dramatically, not even realizing how much he’s revealing as his emotions get the best of him. “But she’s so in love with you,” Eddie points a finger at Steve, “That she doesn’t even notice me.”

“I don’t even blame anyone- of course you love Steve, you know? It just fucking sucks because I watch you and you’re always watching him and you keep hoping he’s going to see you and he never does. Meanwhile, I’m so in love with you that it physically hurts and I can never tell you because you’re my best friend and Steve is my best friend. And if you like her back, Steve, you should go for it. I can’t even put myself out there cause scenario one, I lose you,” Eddie gestures to you. “Scenario two- Steve gets his head out of his ass and you two finally get together. I lose both of you, because I can’t put myself through watching someone I’m in love with be with someone else. Or scenario three- you and I do get together and I’m all in- I swear to god, I would be all fucking in. But would you ever even love me as much as you’ve loved him? I don’t know.”

It’s your turn to be stunned. For the first time, Steve’s looking at you and it’s not at all what you hoped it would be. You recognize the look in his eye, it’s the same way Nancy was just looking at him. Pity. You know then and there that Steve never once thought about you the way you hoped he secretly did. It was all made up in your head. Eddie looks defeated, and mortified all at the same time. He shocked himself at his outburst. He’d always been one for dramatics but never at your expense. He feels so guilt ridden that he could shrivel up and let the world swallow him whole.

“I, uh, need to get some air,” you say. You grab your jacket from the hook and slide on your shoes in one fluid motion. “I’ll be back,” you say quickly, slamming the door behind you as you left Eddie and Steve’s apartment. You can’t help as the tears stream down your face uncontrollably. It’s one of those cries where it’s so hard you can’t even make noise as it takes all of your breath away. You’re practically doubled over in the midst of a panic attack when Eddie finds you leaning against the building.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry,” he says earnestly, “That was so fucked up. I am so, so sorry. That wasn’t fair to you, that was such a shitty thing for me to say.”

You manage to nod to let him know you heard him, but you’re blubbering and you’re still struggling to get your breath back. Hiccuped breaths finally catch up to you and you feel your lungs slowly begin to refill with air. The night’s cold air helps to clear your sinuses in one big breath. You wipe your face with the sleeves of your jacket. You can’t bring yourself to look at him just yet.

“Steve is so lucky,” Eddie says after another few moments of silence. “To be loved by you?” He chuckles, taking a lean on the wall next to you. “Lucky bastard,” he jokes, and you manage a forced smile through the tears. “Must be the best damn thing in the whole world and he doesn’t even realize it,” he continues more seriously. “Well, until now, when I ruined everything,” he finalizes, sheepishly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t realize it either,” you mumble, “God, what Steve was doing to me- I was doing to you? Fuck.”

“Fucked up, right?” he teases. “How’s it feel, heartbreaker?”

“Really, really shitty,” you settle on and he laughs.

“Yup,” he agrees, making a pop sound at the end. “Really, really shitty. Indeed.”

“God, I wasted so much fucking time,” you admit to yourself.

“I didn’t mean it,” he says softly, helping fix the collar of your jacket. It was tucked in because you put it on so fast and didn’t bother to fix it. “That I wouldn’t be able to trust you with Steve or whatever if we hypothetically got together or whatever- it was just a really, really ugly insecurity that bubbled up. If after this all blows over and you don’t completely hate my guts, and maybe by some miracle you wanted to give us a chance, I wouldn’t hold your feelings for Steve over you like that.”

“Did you mean it that I’d lose you?” you ask, looking to him. He shakes his head.

“I was talking out of my ass,” he admits, “I was emotional and just letting my frustration get the better of me. I won’t stop being your friend if you don’t like me back.”

“I’ve been doing that already,” he jokes and you swat his arm.

“Not funny,” you grumble, but you can’t find it in you to actually be upset.

“I don’t want an answer from you now,” he says, shifting back to a serious tone, but you can hear how nervous he is. “But if and when you get over Steve, and you realize I’m not that bad to look at- maybe you and I could go out sometime. I’m putting the ball in your court. I just want you to be happy. If you end up with Steve, I’m your best man. You end up with me, I’ll work my hardest every damn day to make you so fucking happy. No matter what, I will be your friend. You aren’t losing me.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and you pull him into a hug. You finally start to feel okay again. You feel like you could get over Steve, but then you remember that everyone inside is waiting for you- including Steve. The anxiety begins to stir and you can’t imagine facing everyone now after all of this.

“I got you,” Eddie whispers, taking your hand, “We’ll go back together.”

Eddie’s held your hand a million times before, but it wasn’t until now that you realize how well your hand fits in his. You shake your head to erase the thought from your mind for now and try to relax. The walk back up to the apartment is much longer than it’s ever felt before.

No one says anything when you both come back. You and Eddie kick off your shoes and he helps you take your jacket off. You sniffle, and quickly take your seat back on the loveseat. Eddie slips into the kitchen and grabs a six pack from the fridge. He holds it up like a fish he’s just caught triumphantly.

“I think we all need one, yeah?” He jokes and he diffuses the tension as everyone agrees in tandem. He pulls them apart from the plastic ring, tossing them out. He throws you a wink when he tosses you yours and you can’t help but smile.

“Can I just say,” Robin says, “Had I known you all were upset about actually serious stuff- I wouldn’t have opened this can of worms. I thought you were just pissed at each other about the comments about not getting laid.”

Nancy and Jonathan must have made up while you were outside because instead of separate seats, Jonathan sat on the living room chair and Nancy was perched on his lap. Steve was just watching you. Suddenly, it didn’t matter that Nancy was there. He was fixated on looking at you. He was taking in everything about you like he was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time.

Fuck, if you weren’t beautiful, Steve thinks. He always knew you were, but he never really thought about it until now. Even after crying, you just look so pretty. He’s pained knowing he’s caused you so much pain. He looks to Eddie and feels jealousy rise irrationally. He’s jealous of Eddie for realizing how perfect you were before he did. It’s so fucking petty and he knows it. Eddie’s had all this time to adore you, while he’s squandered it following around Nancy like a simp. He’s loved you and lost you in the same fucking night.

“Let’s keep going,” Eddie jokes, trying to make light of the situation, “Air out more grievances- Buckley, you need new shoes. Those fucking chucks are abhorrent- please, get new ones. They are why your back hurts all the time.”

“Okay, Mr. Same White Reeboks Since Senior Year,” she taunts, feigning offense to his jab. “Keep my converse out of your mouth!”

“I have boots now,” he says, pointing to the leather boots by the door. “Much more metal.”

“Cause it’s fucking January, Eddie,” Robin says with a laugh, “Of course you’re wearing fucking boots.”

“Yet you strolled into my house wearing Converse,” he says walking over the the floor and pointing at Robin’s worse for wear Chuck Taylors. “It was snowing this morning, Robin! Please, as your friend- please let ME get you new shoes.”

“You can pry those shoes off of me when I’m dead,” she raises her voice. The lighthearted air has returned to the evening. It felt like it had been salvaged for now. Everyone seemed to be feeling better, except Steve. As the world began to pick up again, he was paralyzed- burdened with the knowledge of your feelings for him and knowing he might be too late to do anything about it. Was it?

PART TWO

565 notes · View notes

fgumi · 1 month ago

Text

🌿•₊✧💻⋆⭒˚☕️｡⋆ CATCH A BREAK

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 { PAIRING; non-idol!taesan x reader, GENRE; fluff, romance, uni!au, one shot, WC; 5.9k, WARNING(S); profanity, alcohol consumption, ASK; maybe you cld write a scenario for bnd's taesan? where he's in university and he meets the reader, A/N; for @dendrobiumorchid, hey! hey... it's been a long time since you sent this request in... i finally caught the writer's wind to write it. i don't know if it fully captures what you wanted, but i hope you enjoy nonetheless because i loved writing it heh. }

taesan sighed. a new semester. the last one was hardly kind to him. he knew mechanical engineering was going to be a difficult major. he thought, at the very least, he’d enjoy the college experience. but, no… meche was leeching away at his very soul. when will he catch a break?

soon, apparently.

first day of class and everyone was buzzing with excitement, fresh off the break sharing vacation stories and whatnot. they were so loud. his break was just him working, spending a few days of the holiday with family, working, contemplating whether or not engineering was for him, and… you guessed it. working.

he trudged into the lecture hall, the strap of his backpack barely hanging onto his shoulder, and sat himself in the back. because it was a required course, the class was full. more people filed in, sitting any spot that they could find.

the professor strode in, silencing the crowd with an authoritative tap on the microphone. a syllabus and a couple of slides later, taesan’s eyes briefly flickered to the creaky doors opening. he watched as you hurried in, windswept hair, silently apologizing to your professor before making your way to a seat.

—

you groaned. you could not have had a worse start to your semester. you barely managed to make it back to campus this morning after your flight was continuously delayed. you planned to come the day before so you could situate yourself a little, but all you had time to do was chuck your suitcases in your room and sprint to class. not to mention, tabling for the semester had started and everyone was trying to get people to join their orgs. usually, you’d stop and listen intently, but today was not that day. the tablers thought otherwise though. not one, not two, but three people stopped on your mad dash to class.

are you interested in joining ballroom dancing? not really! sorry! i’m late to class!

would you like to join women in stem? i would but can’t right now! late!

do you wanna donate to sigma alpha epsilon? NO! can’t you see i’m fucking late?

oops. you felt bad (not really). you’re usually a very polite person. today was just not your day.

you managed to find your lecture hall, only 10 minutes late. you tried to open the doors silently, except they had no plans to stay silent. the squeaky hinges alerted your professor that you arrived. you sheepishly bowed, trying to convey your apology, before trying to find a seat. a seat in this full lecture. wow. this was awkwa— oh! there’s a seat!

your eyes met another’s. instinctually, you averted your gaze, focusing on your feet as you made your way to the empty seat.

since it was in the middle of the row and you didn’t feel like crawling over all those poor people, you climbed all the way to the back of the room. when you got behind the empty seat, you noticed a backpack on it. you looked at the girl on the right and saw her backpack by her feet. so, you safely assumed it was the guy on the left’s. you crouched down and tapped his shoulder. he glanced over, meeting your eyes. oh shoot. it was the guy you made awkward eye contact with.

“i’m so sorry, but do you mind if i sit here?” you whispered. he just nodded and removed his backpack, turning back to his notes.

you dropped your backpack in front of the seat and stiffly climbed over, careful to not kick anyone’s head. once you plopped in your seat, you quickly got your laptop out, taking notes over what your professor was currently speaking about.

—

a wildly awkward entrance. an even more awkward attempt at silently getting into the seat beside him. taesan wanted to laugh. not at you, persay. there he sat thinking that his life sort of sucked, but then you came in. flushed and looking a bit out of place. as sorry as it might be, he found some comfort in your misfortune.

at the end of the lecture, taesan felt the tension leave your body—or rather, saw—when your body melted in the seat and you threw your head back with a groan. while he packed up his pencil case, he caught you scrolling through the lecture pdf, trying to see what you missed. he could offer you his notes. taesan looked down at his notebook… maybe not. he doubted that you’d be able to read it.

before he could make up his mind, you slammed your laptop shut and shoved it in your backpack. you followed the rest of the stragglers out of the lecture hall, leaving taesan to retract his hand and close his mouth with words left unsaid.

now, taesan didn’t give you much thought after that. why would he? he didn’t know you. but, you did start appearing in his head after he noticed that you kept sitting by him for the following lectures. like you were assigned that seat.

you weren’t late anymore. sometimes, you were even earlier than him. this led to the two of you sharing polite nods and pleasant smiles but nothing more. until a month in.

he knew from the syllabus that grading was divided between attendance, exams, and partner projects. was he looking forward to those projects? absolutely not. he hated them. people inevitably got distracted and couldn’t manage their own pace.

by the end of lecture, he was paired with some guy named jaehyun for the first partner project. the guy seemed great. a little too social for his liking, though. in taesan’s mind, overly social people tended to be less committed to completing their part of the project. so, he mentally prepared himself to do the majority of it by himself.

but, taesan also found himself a bit disappointed. he didn’t have anyone that he would have preferred over jaehyun—he didn’t know anyone in that class—but he was curious about you. he’s seen how you take notes. you followed the lecture and put in your own comments between content notes, little things here and there that personalized your learning. he admired it. so much so, taesan started doing it himself. he wondered what your name was…

taesan didn’t have to wonder for too long. in the middle of one of his and jaehyun’s meetups, you came bouncing along.

“hey, myungjae!” you smiled. that was new. the only facial expressions taesan had ever seen on you was confusion, despair, and frustration. this… this was a nice change.

jaehyun waved back with a big grin. “well, if it isn’t the queen herself, miss y/n.”

taesan noted your name, saying it a couple of times in his head. it was a nice name. it suited you.

you rolled your eyes and gave him a smack on the shoulder. “stop calling me that. literally no one else calls me that.”

“i’d beg to differ.” jaehyun wiggled his finger at you. “leehan calls you that all the time.”

“that’s only because i feed his fish when he’s at work,” you replied. you glanced at taesan curiously before recognition bloomed on your face. “hey! you’re the guy that i sit next to in class.”

taesan awkwardly smiled. “ya… i’m taesan.”

“y/n,” you nodded back, returning his smile with the same cordial one you give him in class. (darn. taesan felt disappointment when you didn’t give him the same smile as jaehyun. why was he disappointed?) you turned your focus back to jaehyun. “i didn’t know you knew taesan.”

“we’re partners for the partner project!”

you blinked. “what partner project?”

jaehyun sighed, giving you a flat look. “the one in class?”

one. two. three. four. five—

“holy shit! you’re in that class too?” you exclaimed with wide eyes.

jaehyun clutched his chest, throwing himself to the side. “my queen doesn’t perceive me. she doesn’t even know we share a class together.”

taesan watched as you wrestled jaehyun, who was being dramatic and acting like you were actually hurting him. you were a brighter person outside of class, knowledge that taesan wouldn’t have been privy to if it weren’t for this partner project. taesan found himself smiling at your light laughs and quips about jaehyun’s airheadedness. he glanced at the time. shoot. he had to go to work.

“sorry,” taesan said as he packed up his stuff. “i gotta head out, but we can text about the rest of the stuff.”

you pulled away from jaehyun, letting the poor guy catch his breath. “oh my— i’m so sorry. i didn’t realize that i was bothering you guys for that long.”

taesan waved nonchalantly. “it’s okay. this was more of an impromptu, just to iron out some details. we were practically done when you came.”

you pouted. cute. cute? cute? taesan internally froze. you were cute?

whatever you said after, he didn’t catch. his mind was currently scrambling about how he found someone (you) cute. he subconsciously nodded at whatever you were saying and made his leave, making an excuse that he was about to be really late. as he hurried away, he heard you tell jaehyun. “maybe he doesn’t like boba.”

funny you should say that. he was on his way to his job… which was making boba.

as taesan sealed the drink he was currently making, his thoughts drifted back to you. the girl that sat next to him during class. the girl that he academically admired enough to copy her notetaking style. the girl that very awkwardly made an appearance in his life. the girl he found cute.

after he called out the drink, he turned and groaned, leaning on his coworker, woonhak. “woonhak, i think my years are getting to me.”

woonhak, his junior by two years, patted him on the head. “you are getting old, man. but, don’t worry. i hear that the standard of living for old people is getting higher.”

taesan whipped his head up and punched woonhak’s shoulder. as the younger man whined and rubbed his shoulder, taesan rinsed the dishes in the sink.

“okay, i’ll bite. what makes you say that?” woonhak asked.

taesan shook his hands before wiping away the excess water off with a rag. “there’s this girl—”

“a girl!?” taesan’s glare silenced woonhak’s exaggerated gasp.

“i knew her—well, not really—but i finally met her and… i found her cute…” taesan trailed off, putting away the refrigerated items left on the counter.

“hold on. you found a girl cute,” woonhak tilted his head. “and that’s why i became a victim of violence? dude, it’s normal to find people attractive.”

“i know. it’s just that i’ve been knowing her. she sits next to me in class. it’s just… i didn’t think of her as anything until i knew her name,” taesan murmured.

woonhak stroked his chin. “names are a powerful kind of magic.”

taesan stared at woonhak blankly before sighing. “you’ve been playing d&d too much.”

woonhak’s cheeks puffed out, his defense bubbling in his throat before he noticed the customer at the register. he turned to them and put on his brightest smile. “hi! what can i get you today?”

taesan moved beside woonhak to hear the order when he heard his name from a familiar voice. “taesan?”

he looked up and saw you. you brightened when you saw that you were right. “you work here?”

at that moment, he thanked his barber for accidentally leaving the sides of his hair long because he knew the tips of his ears were beginning to redden. “oh, hey. ya, i do.”

“i guess you do like boba! when you didn’t reply to my offer to buy you boba, i thought you hated it or something.” your grin was very blinding. at least to him, seeing how he was only familiar with the details of your face when you were feeling negative emotions. wait. details of your face? oh shoot. taesan was screwed.

he let out an awkward chuckle. “ya… i didn’t see a point since i work at a boba shop…” you offered to buy him boba? as an apology for interrupting his meeting with jaehyun? fuck, he didn’t hear that.

“oh… well! how about i buy you food instead? i feel really bad about the whole—”

“no! it’s okay. really…”

you blinked at his interjection and then laughed. “well, you can’t stop me from tipping you then. you do get your tips, right? i heard some owners don’t give their employees the tips.”

woonhak gasped. “are you serious?”

you nodded earnestly. “my friend, leehan, doesn’t get the tips because he gets paid a flat rate. it’s stupid, really. so, i just venmo him the tip.”

“that’s diabolical. that should be illegal,” woonhak sighed with a shake of his head.

you hummed in agreement before looking up at the menu. “do you mind if i order?”

“oh, not at all!” woonhak’s hand hovered the screen. while you were still contemplating your order, taesan braved taking a glance at your face. what details was he remembering?

your overall face did seem happier than what he was used to in class. you seemed lighter. the corners of your lips weren’t downturned like usual, quirked the slightest bit upward as you pouted. your tired eyes were brighter, glistening almost, like they held more life. usually, you looked dead, focusing on the lecture and your notes. your hair was more kempt, though he did find himself liking the messy updos you did in class.

“and will that be all?” woonhak’s voice broke his train of thought. taesan blinked. he missed your entire order. he looked at the pos and saw an oolong milk tea with grass jelly. coincidentally, his favorite drink. it’s like fate— no. he is not letting himself get delusional.

he forced himself to make the drink quickly, handing it to you after wiping it down. you smiled at him. “see you in class!”

taesan’s gaze lingered on you as you walked away until you were out of view. he turned to woonhak who was already looking at him with a smirk.

“oh. you’ve got it bad,” woonhak laughed. he clapped in excitement and threw his arm around taesan’s shoulders. “don’t worry. i think you got a chance.”

woonhak released taesan to check how much of a tip you left. his eyes widened before he hit taesan’s arm. “dude, you definitely got a chance. she tipped $20.”

taesan gawked at the amount. you were generous. it made him smile a bit, but he schooled his expression. he couldn’t give woonhak more things to tease him about. he’d just have to thank you in class.

and he did. thank you, that is.

you just brushed him off with a smile, saying it was no big deal. but, the smile was different this time. no strain. the politeness was still there, but there was more. genuine joy. not as big as the one you gave jaehyun, but better than the one you usually gave him. it felt nice. but, with this, he was scared. what if he started craving more? like seeing you out of class? or trading numbers to compare notes? well, now that he put that into his head, taesan was definitely gonna start hoping that. stupid.

as much as he tried to stamp those feelings down, over the next few weeks, he did start seeing you more out of class. out of coincidence, of course. it started with small waves across the food hall. then, it was whenever you passed each other on campus. then, it was at jaehyun’s party.

“dude, you need to come. you literally carried the whole project. the least i could do is help you unwind this weekend.” jaehyun’s eyes were round and hopeful. it was hard to say no. so, taesan said yes.

taesan isn’t a partier though. he actually hates crowds. they’re loud, messy, and… sticky—whether it be from sweat or spilled alcohol… he dreaded to think of any other reasons. but, jaehyun reassured him. it’d be a get-together in his apartment, so the crowd won’t be too big. taesan somehow doubted it, but he still found himself going. with woonhak, of course.

“can’t believe you know the myung jaehyun and you’re inviting me to one of his parties,” woonhak said, jumping with excitement. “he only ever invites his circles and they’re all cool.”

taesan rolled his eyes as they walked to jaehyun’s apartment. “this isn’t some hallmark movie, woonhak. everyone’s normal. they aren’t any cooler than you or me.”

taesan didn’t often take back his words. he prided himself on only sharing universal facts or opinions that he firmly stood by. but, there you were, making taesan eat his words. you were off to the side behind a small dj set, mixing some of the best club mixes he’s ever heard.

woonhak bumped his shoulder, returning with two drinks in his hand. “they aren’t any cooler, huh? that’s not what your face says.” woonhak sipped his drink as taesan absentmindly took his.

you looked so free. headset wrapped around your neck, hands busy with the dials. you were the definition of cool. you just mixed girls generation’s gee into gd x taeyang’s good boy. who does that? you. you did that. and, people were eating it up, loving the build up and drop.

what he’d usually think is just loud noise, taesan found himself enjoying, grooving with woonhak who was having a blast.

“yooo! taesan! you made it!” jaehyun approached him with open arms. taesan moved his drink just out of reach before jaehyun gave him a bear hug. “i honestly wasn’t sure if you were gonna come! i was scared i got y/n’s hopes up for nothing!”

you were hoping he’d come? though taesan was smirking, internally, he was doing flips and feeling mildly shy. “apparently, i couldn't miss the myung jaehyun’s party.”

“please! it’s just a get-together,” jaehyun said with a shrug.

taesan’s eyebrow quirked. “a get-together… with a dj?”

jaehyun glanced at you before grinning brightly. “it’s just y/n! even though her mixes are insane.”

taesan laughed before taking a sip of his drink. the burn of alcohol was slight but enough to make him recoil a bit. jaehyun laughed at his reaction. “is it strong? i told y/n to go easy on the tequila.”

at taesan’s shrug, jaehyun just patted him on the back. “come on! let’s go say hi to y/n!”

jaehyun grabbed his arm and pulled him a step forward before turning back to woonhak. “you too!” jaehyun let go of taesan to wrap his arm around woonhak’s shoulder, pulling him and taesan through the crowd. when they approached you, you were talking to another guy who was leaning a bit close for it to be a casual conversation. it made taesan squirm inside. alright, let’s calm down. she’s just your classmate.

you looked up from your conversation and yelled. “taesan! you came!”

when the guy looked put-off by you pulling away from him, taesan couldn’t help but feel a bit smug. but, there’s nothing to feel smug about. stop it. just because you were coming up to taesan right now with open arms and the world’s most blinding smile—it doesn’t mean anything. because taesan doesn’t have a crush on you.

you wrapped your arms around him and he gently returned it. you pulled away, only slightly, to look up at him. taesan could make out the slight blush—he means flush—on your cheeks. you gave him a dopey smile. “i’m glad you came! i’m a bit tipsy heh.”

as if taesan caught on fire, you jumped back and covered your gasp with your hand. “sorry! i don’t know if you’re comfortable with hugs. i should’ve asked before—”

“you’re fine, y/n.” taesan softly patted your head which made you smile again.

you turned to woonhak and pointed. “boba guy!”

woonhak sheepishly waved back when jaehyun grabbed him by the shoulders. “do you work at the boba shop?”

woonhak nodded, leaning back slightly at jaehyun’s closeness. jaehyun suddenly hugged him. “dude, you’re my new friend. i freaking love boba.”

you side-eyed jaehyun. it was a cute expression. shit. no. stop it, taesan.

you abruptly linked your arm with taesan. “well, taesan’s been my friend and he also works at the boba shop. i had an insider before you.” you stuck your tongue out at jaehyun before leaning up to whisper in taesan’s ear (which was heating up at your proximity). “i don’t want free boba or anything. i’m just competing against jaehyun.”

“ya, right. you don’t even have your friend’s number,” jaehyun scoffed, jutting his hip out sassily.

your jaw dropped. you scrambled to pull out your phone. “i’m sorry, but would you mind giving me your number?”

taesan could see woonhak smirking out of the corner of his eye. he held back his sigh. he was definitely gonna hear about this at work. he took your phone and put in his number, saving himself as taesan (seatmate). when he returned it to you, you pouted. he watched you type on your phone before you showed him your screen. taesan 🐈‍⬛🥳.

“you’re not just my seatmate, silly. you’re my friend!” if you grinned any wider, taesan was scared he was going to be permanently blinded. he just smiled at you and patted your head again.

“yes, ma’am,” he replied softly. your eyes crinkled and taesan didn’t know how he was still standing. he’ll finally admit it to himself. you were cute, so painfully cute.

the night continued with you and jaehyun bickering between songs, jaehyun whisking away woonhak to show him all his pokemon cards, you asking taesan a million questions about himself, and taesan returning the favor by asking “what about you?”.

by the end of the party, taesan knew that you preferred listening to soft songs over the k-pop edm that you mix. he knew that you loved feeling the sun on your face but also got really sleepy from it. he knew how you took your matcha (not coffee because you couldn’t handle how bitter it was). he knew that you couldn’t internalize study material without eating ramen at least twice during your study session. he knew a bunch of things about you now. the downsides? he admits he has crush on you and it’s grown and may have a tiny chokehold on him.

of course, it wasn’t confirmed until he noticed himself searching for you in ordinary things. every matcha order he makes, he thought about how you’d rate it based off of your order. every time the sun peaked through the clouds, he thought about how you’d wanna take a nap. every song he came across, he thought about putting it in a playlist he most certainly did not make after learning about your preferences.

okay, so maybe he did like you a little more than he initially thought. but, it doesn’t stop him from acting normal in class. thank goodness. you two carried on, attending lectures now as friends. you indeed did start comparing notes after exchanging numbers, studying together in your apartment even. taesan found himself amused whenever you stopped to make some ramen. you started hanging out from time to time, jaehyun and woonhak included at the most random times. but, he cherished when it was just you two. and, usually, it was when you wanted to go on nightly bike rides.

“it’s too dangerous for me to walk. at least, on a bike, i can speed away from any assailants!” you explained to him with determination. he shook his head, finding you endearing.

it was after these nights that taesan knew he was falling in love with you. whenever he was at work and couldn’t text you, woonhak said he was sulking too much, being more unapproachable than usual. sometimes, he’d make your matcha order just to better remember the time you introduced him to your favorite matcha place. during other partner projects, he thought about how you might go about the topics. on his walks home after work, he wished he was out riding bikes with you, screaming about everything and nothing. whenever he heard k-pop songs playing at work, he thought about the new mixes you’d send him for a sneak peak. on the days the wind was a little harsh on the way to class, he’d crave the way you’d subconsciously cuddle into his side.

one day, you didn’t show up to class. taesan waited. 10 minutes turned into 20, then 30. taesan could hardly focus on the lecture. where were you? he shot you a text. are you okay?

you sent one back just as fast. i feel like there’s a rave going on in my head :(

excuse me? taesan stared at his phone concerned. do you need to go to the er?

noooo! i’m just gonna rot in bed and hope the vaporub does its magic 🙂

as soon as the professor dismissed everyone, taesan shoved everything in his backpack haphazardly and rushed out. what makes sick people feel better? soup, right?

he quickly texted woonhak, asking him to cover his shift. when woonhak agreed and probed why, taesan just said your name. woonhak didn’t ask after that. he just sent a smirking emoji that taesan rolled his eyes at.

he rushed home and put a pot on the stove. he threw open his fridge, glasses clinking violently. taesan stared at his fridge for ingredients. he knew the turmeric in the seasoning pantry would help. he had half of his rotisserie chicken left. he looked at the carrots but remembered you weren’t a fan. he noted the minced ginger and lemons. okay, chicken noodle soup. a classic.

taesan got to work, chopping up all the ingredients in bite-sized pieces and shredding the chicken. he grabbed the chicken stock from his pantry and poured it into the pot. he threw garlic, ginger, turmeric, onions, celery, etc. and started heating it up. he taste-tested every so often, making sure that it’d at least taste good. by the end, taesan was proud to say it was definitely homemade chicken noodle soup. he sprinkled in some cayenne since he knew how much you liked spicy food. he packed it all up in a soup container and texted you. omw to yours!

he stared at the box on his counter, debating whether or not to give it to you. would this be a good time? would it seem inconsiderate? taesan groaned before tucking it under his arm and heading out. his phone buzzed, a reply from you. but you might get sick :(

taesan smiled and shook his head. as if that would stop him from seeing his girl. oh. his girl? you’re not his girl. yet, he hoped.

he near sprinted to your apartment, waving down the people in the lobby to fob him up to your floor. before he knocked on your door, he caught his breath, trying to appear normal. after a few minutes, he knocked and was surprised by how quickly you answered.

oh, you were so cute, wearing a snuggie and the fluffy cat pajama pants he got you for secret santa.

“you didn’t have to come,” you croaked, moving aside so he could step in. as you closed the door behind him, you peered curiously at the box in his arms. “whatcha got there?”

taesan turned and presented you the box. “i made you soup since you’re sick and all.”

you tilted your head in confusion. “where’s the soup?”

he looked down at his hands. holy— where’s the soup? then, he remembered. when he finally decided to bring the box, he forgot to grab the soup on the counter. he groaned and hung his head.

“i might have forgot it,” he muttered. he’s so stupid. how could he forget the whole purpose of him coming here?

you giggled and then winced. “well, what did you bring instead?”

taesan quickly hid the box behind his back and nervously laughed. “nothing! nothing. how about i go back to my apartment and bring the soup?”

“you don’t have to,” you shook your head slowly. “you can, however, tell me what the box is.”

“uh, i’m gonna go back and get the soup!” taesan yelped as he shuffled around you, careful to keep the box out of your reach.

you frowned (cutely, taesan would add). “but, you’re already here. so is the box.”

“how about i give you the box after i get the soup?” taesan tried to reason.

“how about you leave the box and go get the soup—so you don’t forget it again—and i take a peak in the box?” you suggested cheekily. you wiggled your eyebrows at him, swaying a little. oh, how taesan would never win against you.

“if you promise to wait until i give you the soup, i’ll leave the box.”

you paused and thought about it. you sighed and agreed in defeat. “fine. i’ll wait.”

“good girl,” taesan smirked as he set the box on the kitchen counter. you handed him your keys as he opened the door. “i’ll know if you tried to open it by the way.”

as you rolled your eyes, taesan left, his heart racing. he really hoped you wouldn’t open the box until he was back. what if you didn’t wanna see him after? he wouldn’t be able to give you your soup and then he’d have to eat this soup knowing that you hated him.

the anxiety fueled him. he did a full sprint to his apartment and raced up the stairs. he snatched the soup container and raced back down. like the world was smiling down on him, people were already going into your complex so he slipped in with them. he couldn’t stop tapping his foot impatiently, glaring at the numbers going up slowly. when it finally stopped on your floor, his feet stomped down the hall to your door.

he opened your apartment door to see you on the couch, poking at the box sadly. when you heard him come in, your head whipped up which made you wince. he shook his head and lightly scolded you. “you’re gonna make your headache worse.”

“i was just excited to see you,” you muttered. man, that made him a bit hopeful.

he smiled as he dug through your drawers for a spoon before presenting you with the soup. you clapped softly and took it. “did you make it?”

taesan nodded shyly. “sorry if it doesn’t taste that good. but, it will help you get better. so, i expect you to finish it.”

when you took your first sip, taesan could’ve sworn your eyes twinkled.

“taesan, no joke, this is so good,” you praised, taking more spoonfuls.

taesan let out a sigh of relief before plopping down next to you. “i’m glad. i would’ve gone home and cried if you said it was bad.”

you hummed before setting down the soup. you faced him, then pointed at the box. “can i open it now?”

just like that, tension reentered his body. fuck. he did say that he’d give it to you after he got the soup. “y-yes?”

grinning, you grabbed the box and began to open it. taesan leaned forward and placed his hand on top of the box. “before you open it, can you promise me one thing?”

you looked at him, blinking in confusion. “what’s up?”

“you won’t hate me after?” taesan hated how desparate that came out.

you just laughed and grabbed his hand. wow, yours were so warm.

“taesan, i could never hate you—unless this box was holding my mom’s head in it. sorry, that was morbid.” it was your turn to nervously laugh. but, for whatever reason, it let taesan relax a little.

when you opened the box, a soft gasp left you. you pulled out the ippodo kanza matcha and the matcha bowl taesan crafted for you in a pottery class he took. you placed them on the counter as taesan watched in anticipation. you took out the spotify code tag that taesan had bought from etsy. then, the small jar full of folded up papers followed. finally, you found the letter sitting at the bottom.

taesan was itching, his breathing becoming uneven. he stood up, startling you, and sat at the dining table. you looked at him confused.

“sorry, i don’t think i can be next to you when you read that,” taesan laughed oddly.

you snorted and opened the letter. he couldn’t watch you read it. he fiddled with his fingers, letting himself pick out the details on the textured walls of your apartment.

he couldn’t bear thinking of what you’d think of his letter. it contained everything. how he really treasured your friendship. how he treasured you.

how he loved how particular you were about your matcha. how he loved your studying quirk of eating ramen twice. how he loved riding bikes at night with you. how he loved your dj music even though he hates edm.

how you changed his college experience. how engineering, though it was still hard, became bearable after meeting you. how you made this semester the happiest semester of his life. how your smiles became his encouragement. how your laugh was best kind of music life had to offer. how warm your presence was even during the coldest days. how he wanted to be that person for you.

how he wanted to be the guy that makes the matcha that makes you hum in happiness. how he wanted to be the one making you your second and third ramen on a particularly rough study night. how he wanted to keep being the only person you sent your new mixes to. how he wanted to be yours if you’d have him.

it was cheesy, taesan knows. but, it was his feelings. the feelings that he tried to eat and forget about.

when he heard sniffling, he glanced up at you. tears had welled up in your eyes, a few droplets making their way onto the letter. you lifted your head, trying to will the tears back into your tear ducts. your reaction had taesan nervous. were these good tears? were these goodbye tears? did he ruin everything? did he—

“come over here, stupid.” you glared at him. taesan hesitantly returned to his spot on the couch. you pulled out your phone and tapped away before giving him your phone. he gingerly took it.

my bf 🥰

oh… you were dating someone else… that’s embarrassing. taesan should’ve known. were there signs he ignored? was he that blind? this was—

as if you read his mind, you leaned over and opened your text messages with your boyfriend. it felt wrong looking at them. but, taesan couldn’t help but peak at them.

oh. oh! taesan’s head whipped up and stared at you with his mouth open. these were the texts between you two.

“yes, you big, slow dummy. i would love for you to be mine because i’ve been yours since forever.”

so, yes. taesan did catch a break. he caught the biggest break of his life. you.

bonus moment!

“do you have the lecture notes from today?” you asked, drinking the lukewarm soup. taesan rubbed the back of his neck, nervously laughing. “i… i couldn’t pay attention.” you lifted your eyebrow. “you couldn’t pay attention?” “i was worried about you,” he murmured, looking away from you. he heard soft rumbles and peaked over when they became full-on laughs. you hid your face in your hands before looking at him with the same brilliant smile he became infatuated with. “i guess we’ll have to rewatch the lecture together.”

disclaimer: this, in no way, reflects the idol. this is purely fiction. ✧ comments and reblogs are appreciated! ✧ give my other works a read too! you may now leave requests (˶ˆᗜˆ˵)

tagged; @onedoornet @en-dream @heeheesang @prettyange1 @bee-the-loser @httpenhoon @r1kification @seungheartyou @pumpkg

#onedoornet #taesan x reader #han taesan #taesan fluff #boynextdoor #boynextdoor imagines #boynextdoor scenarios #boynextdoor x reader #bnd imagines #bnd scenarios #bnd x reader #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: writes #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: one shot #⍣ 𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐚: 𝓪𝓷𝓼𝔀𝓮𝓻𝓼

455 notes · View notes

lechrts · 2 months ago

Text

Change. ✷ Lando Norris

Pairing: Lando Norris x Friend!reader

Summary: When you look a little too good for a night clubbing out with Lando and friends.

Word Count: 2.3k

Disclaimer/s: suggestive??? ish… POSSESIVE!LANDO. kinda made me AUUUUGGGH when writing.

Vera’s Voice! I MEAN what i said about making me AUUUGGGHH when writing. cuz ohhhh boy. there’s probs plenty of things like this out there but 👅 wassuhhhh. hope u enjoy!!! ^_^

Lando had been sitting on your couch for the past thirty minutes, scrolling aimlessly on his phone as he waited for you to finish getting ready. You’d already told him “five more minutes” three times now, and he was growing restless.

“Come onnnnn!” You could hear his irritated groan from down the hall. “Max and them are already there, I’m getting gray hairs!” He complained.

“Alright! Alright!” A small laugh escaped your lips as you were coincidentally walking out of your room, ready as ever. “I’m done!” Your voice rang out as you rummaged through your purse, double checking and making sure you had every essential needed for tonight.

With another exaggerated sigh, he shot up from his spot and glanced from his phone lazily, ready to toss out some sarcastic quip about you taking ages—until his eyes landed on you.

His jaw nearly dropped.

You were wearing a figure-hugging black mini skirt that left little to the imagination. Your red top sat delicately on your shoulders, the hem ending just a bit higher than what Lando would have preferred. Paired with black boots, your hair and makeup perfectly done, you looked… well, effortlessly stunning.

He blinked once. Then twice.

“Uh…” He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “Wow.”

You frowned, pausing in the middle of adjusting your top. “What? Do I look bad?”

His eyes widened, shooting up to yours as he quickly shook his head. “Oh—No! Noo. No, no, no. Not bad at all.”

You raised a brow as he stammered over his words, his face growing increasingly red. “No?”

“No,” He muttered again, scratching the back of his neck. His gaze flickered down and back up quickly, as if he couldn’t help himself but glance at every inch of you. “You look… really good. Like, really good.”

The corner of your lips tugged into a shy smile. “Oh. Well… thank you!”

For some reason, Lando didn’t smile back. Instead, his expression tightened slightly, his brows furrowing in the faintest way.

“But um..” He hesitated, as if choosing his words carefully. “Are you… uh—Ahem.” His voice cracked mid sentence. “Are you sure you wanna go out in that?”

The question hung in the air like a bomb waiting to go off.

And it was about to go off.

On him.

You squinted your eyes before quirking a brow and crossing your arms. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Lando winced. “Nothing bad! It’s just… y’know. The club can get a little… wild. And I just… it’s a bit—” He gestured vaguely at your outfit.

“It’s a bit what?” You tilted your head, challenging him.

“Short,” He said finally, almost inaudibly. “It’s short.”

“Lando.” You stared at him in disbelief, eyes now wide as your raised your brows. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m just saying!” He lifted his hands defensively. “You don’t wanna deal with guys being weird or staring at you like—like—”

“Like what?” You cut him off, glaring. “Like how you’re staring at me right now?”

Lando’s cheeks flushed. “I’m not staring!”

“You are.” You stepped forward, amused now as you watched him squirm. “Pig.”

“Come on! Don’t be like that!” Lando sighed. “You—you know what I mean..” He wasn’t sure how to word anything at the moment.

“Are you flustered, Lando Norris?”

“Wha—pSsshhh. No.” He scoffed, looking anywhere but at you.

“Liar.”

“I’m not!”

“Uh-huh.” You smirked, leaning closer. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously.

“You’re acting weird,” You teased, poking his chest lightly. “What, you don’t like my outfit?”

“That’s not it,” Lando mumbled, eyes finally meeting yours. Something in his expression softened, his voice quieter when he added, “It’s because I do like it.. Like a lot.”

For a moment, you froze, your heart skipping a beat.

“Oh…”

Well, that caught you off guard.

Lando shifted closer now, his usual cheeky grin replaced with something more serious, more… tender.

“I just… I don’t like the thought of every guy in the club looking at you like you’re…” He trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Like I’m what?” you prompted softly.

“Like you’re something they can just have,” He said, his voice steady this time.

“Because you’re not.”

Your breath caught in your throat. The way he looked at you—intense and unguarded—made your skin warm.

“Well, it’s not like you have to worry about that,” You said quietly, trying to ignore how flustered you felt under his gaze. “I can handle myself.”

“I know you can.” His lips tugged into a small smile. “But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

You stared at him for a beat, your heart pounding against your ribs. “Good thing I dressed for myself and not for you!” A cheeky grin played at your lips.

“Oh, come on.” He shut his eyes tightly and let out a wide smiled laugh.

“Are you jealous?” You asked, testing him.

He opened his mouth to deny it, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he let out another sheepish laugh, rubbing the back of his neck again.

“Maybe,” He admitted softly.

You blinked. You really hadn’t expected that.

“…You’re jealous!” You repeated, a teasing grin breaking across your face as your voice was practically taunting.

Lando groaned, tipping his head back dramatically as if to escape the moment entirely. “I said maybe,” He muttered, voice muffled, cheeks turning impossibly redder.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, though the sound felt tighter than you wanted it to. Something about the way he looked at you—the way his eyes burned into yours with that soft intensity—had your stomach twisting, your pulse quickening.

“You’re crazy,” You murmured, stepping back just slightly to give yourself some breathing room. It was stupid how much his gaze had affected you—how much he affected you.

“Yeah, well…” Lando sighed, his expression shifting to something unreadable. He glanced down at the floor for a second before looking up at you again, his voice quieter now. “I just don’t want anyone thinking they’ve got a chance with you… when they don’t.”

And now.

Your heart stopped.

Huh?

The air in the room thickened, and you suddenly felt hyper-aware of every inch of yourself—of him. You swallowed hard, feeling your throat dry up.

“Why… why would it matter if they did?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, a challenge wrapped in curiosity.

Lando stepped toward you this time, closing the distance you’d put between you two. “Because I can’t have people embarrass themselves,” He said simply, his words heavy, deliberate.

Your breath hitched. He was close now—close enough that you could smell the faint cologne clinging to him, close enough that your knees felt dangerously weak. Your mind screamed at you to say something, anything, to break the tension.

But then he tilted his head just slightly, his eyes dropping to your lips before flicking back up to meet yours.

You froze.

“Lando.” You started, your voice shaky, but you weren’t even sure what you wanted to say.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” His voice was so low it sent shivers down your spine. “Tell me you’d let anyone in the club have a chance with you.”

You blinked, stunned. “I—I mean, that’s not—”

“That’s not what?” He murmured. There was barely an inch between you now, his body heat radiating onto you like a fire you couldn’t escape. He was looking at you like he was waiting for something, like he was daring you.

You felt dizzy, caught in the push and pull of whatever the hell this was.

“You don’t get to decide what I do,” You managed to say, though your voice was far weaker than you’d intended.

“I know.” His eyes softened, his lips twitching into the faintest smirk. “But you know, I’d kill any guy who even looked at your way tonight.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. You couldn’t think straight—not with the way he was looking at you, not with the way he stood so close.

“You’re insane,” You whispered finally, though the words held no real weight.

Lando grinned. “Yeah? Then why aren’t you pushing me away?”

Oh.

Your heart stuttered.

God damnit.

You knew you should say something snarky—something to diffuse this unbearable tension that had your body practically buzzing. But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to.

Instead, you looked up at him through your lashes, your voice soft when you finally spoke.

“…Maybe I like it when you get jealous.”

Lando stilled, his expression faltering for half a second before his lips curved into something that was far too dangerous—a mix of smug and something else that you couldn’t quite name.

“Careful,” He whispered, his voice dropping into something almost husky, “or I’ll start thinking you have a little crush on me.”

The room felt like it was spinning now, and the tension between you both was so palpable you were sure you could reach out and touch it.

“And what if I do?” You shot back, though you couldn’t bring yourself to look anywhere but at his lips.

For a moment, everything was silent. And then—

“Then I’d say I’ve been waiting for you to figure that out.”

Your breath hitched, your pulse pounding so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else. Lando’s words hung in the air like a loaded promise, and the way he looked at you—eyes dark, jaw tight—sent a shiver down your spine.

“You’re so full of yourself,” You whispered, but your voice cracked, betraying you completely.

“Am I?” His lips tugged into a slow, teasing smirk, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were serious. “Because I think I’m just being honest.”

You swallowed hard, every nerve in your body screaming at you to move, to say something, to do something.

But you couldn’t.

You were frozen, stuck under the weight of him and the truth of what he’d just said.

“I’ve been waiting for you to figure that out.”

The worst part was you knew it was true. You’d felt this coming for months—maybe even longer—and you’d been avoiding it, brushing it off as nothing more than harmless banter.

But now, standing here with him so close, with his words replaying in your head like a song you couldn’t shake, it was impossible to deny.

Your silence stretched on, the tension between you growing tighter and tighter, winding like a coil ready to snap.

“Say something,” Lando murmured, his voice soft now, his tone almost… pleading.

You blinked up at him, your own voice barely a whisper. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you’re done pretending.” He stepped impossibly closer, the tips of his shoes brushing yours. “That you feel it too.”

Your heart thudded painfully, your breath catching in your throat. His words shouldn’t have made you this weak—this vulnerable—but they did.

Because you did feel it. The magnetic pull toward him, the way your skin lit up when he was near, the way he could unravel you with just a look.

Finally, you found your voice. “I’m not pretending.”

Lando exhaled, almost like he’d been holding his breath, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. His hand hovered at his side, his fingers flexing like he was resisting the urge to reach for you.

“Good.” He smirked faintly, but his voice was serious when he added, “Then let’s get one thing straight.”

You arched a brow, trying to mask how shaky your legs felt. “And what’s that?”

“You’re not leaving my side tonight.”

You blinked, surprised by the possessive edge to his voice. “Lando—”

“Non-negotiable.” He cut you off, his hand finally moving to rest at your waist—light, cautious, but firm enough that you felt its weight. “I meant what I said earlier. I don’t trust anyone else in there. So if we’re doing this—if you’re mine—”

“Yours?” You interrupted, though your voice was breathless now, the single word escaping before you could stop it.

Lando grinned, the kind of grin that made you feel like the ground had been pulled out from under you. “Yeah. Mine.” His thumb brushed against the hem of your top, the small movement sending a jolt through you.

“And I don’t share.”

You couldn’t breathe. It was like every word out of his mouth was knocking the wind out of you, leaving you reeling.

You should’ve pushed him away—told him he was being ridiculous and that you could handle yourself.

But you didn’t.

Instead, you whispered, “Fine.”

Lando’s grin softened into something warmer—something real—as his hand tightened ever so slightly around your waist. “Fine?”

“Fine,” You repeated, your voice steadying as you looked up at him. “But if you’re going to stay glued to my side all night, you better not embarrass me.”

Lando laughed, the sound sending warmth flooding through your chest. “No promises.”

You wanted to argue, to push back and tell him he couldn’t just claim you like that. But you couldn’t—because deep down, some part of you wanted it.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to steady your racing heart. “You’re a little too confident, aren’t you?” You muttered, though the bite in your words was weakened by the way your voice trembled.

Lando’s grin softened into something that made your knees weak. “Not confident. Just sure.” His gaze flickered across your face—your lips, your eyes—and for a brief moment, he hesitated. Then, as if unable to hold back, he added quietly,

“And for the record, I’ve always thought you were beautiful. Not just tonight.”

The sincerity in his voice knocked the air from your lungs. He said it so simply, so effortlessly, like it was a fact he’d been carrying with him for far too long. And yet, it left you speechless, your mind spinning.

You stared at him, trying to process his words—trying to process him. “Always?” You whispered, like you needed confirmation that you hadn’t imagined it.

Lando held your gaze, his expression soft but unwavering. “Always.”

And just like that, the moment broke—but the tension lingered.

He didn’t let go of you as you finally grabbed the last bit of your things and headed for the door. In fact, his hand never once left your waist, his touch burning into you in the best way possible.

And as you stepped into the night, surrounded by the hum of music and people, you realized something:

You weren’t pretending anymore.

And neither was he.

likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated ^_^ !!!

extra vera note!!!! Guys please bro is so Male in this it acc pissed me off kinda 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ WHATEVER. for the plot 👅

tags! @planetpedri @halfwayhearted @wdcbox

761 notes · View notes