#another shot focused on her ass

[hyperfixations-and-hecticness]

The first real man we see in Barbie is at first shot with a tone that almost mimics a sort of mock-heroic manner. Aaron is the little intern realising there’s a world threatening danger loose associated with their company. He travels to a forbidden place, the top floor as dramatic music plays and the other men see him off.

[whimsicmimic]

raise a glass for my babygirl tamara bhatt, the specialest lizard there ever was

[cyarskj1899]

[aakeysmash]

first meeting: college!sukuna and f!reader

content: smut (degradation, masturbation (feet are involved for f), m oral, light slapping (1), manhandling, spit), a little bit of crack, i love yuuji and he's my metphorical little brother okay (he's 9), reader has siblings because i said so, also bigbro!sukuna

It’s not the sound of the sheets rustling that wakes him up, but an ass pressing on his groin. Not like he can complain about not sleeping much; the pretty moans still reverberating in his skull are a testament to that.

He hears a yawn before feeling two hands searching for his warmth. He lazily obliges and scoots a little bit next to the body he has next to him. He lets these roaming hands touch his body, trying not to cringe. He’s not fond of physical contact if it’s not on his cock, and having someone grab his bicep while sighing dramatically about how strong he feels makes him want to puke. But you’ve got to give ‘em what they want before taking what you want.

He curses in his mind. He broke the first rule: never let a chick sleep in your bed after you fuck her. His head is killing him, the sun entering from his bedroom window making him squint. He must have fallen asleep. He remembers everything from last night: whoever says alcohol makes you forget stuff is just weak. One of the guys he shared the complex he lived in threw a goodbye party since he was moving out, and he wasn’t one to refuse free alcohol. His ex-almost-roommate invited a bunch of people from college, and Sukuna remembers that there were a couple of girls that didn’t stop whispering to each other while looking at him, chuckling behind their hands and blushing. One in particular was pretty, dancing and smiling at everyone before focusing her gaze on Sukuna and never leaving it. A classic. He played her game a bit, and she twirled when he asked her to, acting innocent when he asked her if he could lick salt from between her boobs before taking a shot of tequila. Boobs that turned out to still be salty when he licked and sucked her nipples an hour later, and twirl she did, but this time on his dick, the innocent act all gone. He fucked her like he owned her, and she got fucked like she wanted to be owned by him.

“‘Morning, ‘Kuna,” a whisper in the quiet of his room. Sweet, sweet voice whose hands are now traveling towards his hardening cock. He looks at the clock in front of his bed and makes sure to not roll his eyes too obviously, opting to grab her ass to make the process of riling her up faster. He has to leave for practice in 30 minutes, but a blowjob will do.

His hand travels to her front, expert hands finding her clit immediately. He barely touches it and she trembles in his arms, already panting. So responsive. He smirks. This will take less than he anticipated.

“You’re wet already? You’re such a slut,” he groggily says in her ear. She moans. She likes that shit. His fingers find her opening, making sure to take some of her wetness before focusing on making small little eights on her bundle of nerves. “Spread these legs and shut the fuck up. The whole dorm already knows you’re enjoying yourself, you made sure they heard you last night,” he points out, biting her lobe. She opens her legs like the smart girl she is, and whines every time his middle finger catches on the hood of her sweet button. She babbles something along the lines of so close, so close, but right now he pays it no mind. “Don- don’t you dare stop-” another moan. Sukuna dips both his middle and ring finger in her opening, grinding his palm on her clit, feeling her arch her back against his chest. He knows his stuff: he’s degrading, demanding, evil, but he likes his women pleased thoroughly. Her pussy is squeezing him hard, when he suddenly registers what she said and gets away from her, bored. It’s not the first time some random girl thinks she can make him do whatever she wants just because she made him cum the night before. Which is not even completely true, because he always pulls out, even wearing a condom, and finishes with his hand. There’s no way a bum who lets a stranger fuck her is becoming his baby mama. He’s too young to deal with future college dropouts. 

She starts complaining, saying how he’s so mean, ‘Kuna, you’ve been doing this all night, please let me cum, I’ve been so good to you, but Sukuna just manhandles her and gets her on the floor. He seats himself in front of her, grabbing her hair roughly and positioning her head right in front of his standing dick. She yelps, forced to look up at him and his red irises. Her eyelashes flutter, her mouth opens a bit, and she gets wetter. He’s so big and strong, his arm flexing from how he’s making her strain her neck, looking down like a king does not even toward a servant, but toward a roach.

“You’re not going to tell me what I can and can’t do, bitch,” he starts saying, glaring at her menacingly. “And I remember you cumming quite a lot yesterday, actually,” he adds smugly, and she shuts her mouth. She did cum a lot. He never missed the chance to make her scream his name. “Now start sucking, I’ll let you get off on my feet. You should be thanking me, I don’t usually let brats like you stay a second time.” 

He then squishes her cheeks with the hand that’s not in her hair, making her pucker her lips. She looks at him with wide eyes, like a deer in the headlights. She’s quite literally hanging off his every word. He’s so sexy. I can’t let him be upset with me, or he won’t let me see him again! I want to be his girl so bad. 

“Open up,” he tells her, and she doesn’t need to be told twice. She’s equally aroused and scared. She sticks her tongue out, getting her hands behind her back and her feet under her ass. Obedient little thing. Sukuna goes to spit into her open mouth, but he makes sure to miss and spits on her cheek instead. She flinches, but she doesn’t move.

“Oops,” he grins, then collects his saliva from her face and slips his digits past her lips, choking her with them. “Swallow,” he commands.

“But-” she tries to speak, and he responds by pressing down hard on her tongue and making her gag.

“I said swallow, whore,” he repeats, rougher this time. She makes sure to listen to him, starting to tear up. He gets his fingers out of her mouth and lightly slaps her cheek with that same hand. 20 minutes left.

“Good girl. Now suck this cock,” he orders. She doesn’t miss a beat, bobbing her head up and down. He pushes her head down how he pleases, and she starts grinding on his foot. The only sound that can be heard inside of the room is the obnoxious slurping she’s making to accommodate his length inside her mouth. He’s big, girthy, with a pretty black band on the base she’s never quite reaching, and he tastes good, so good. Almost like yesterday after cumming he scrubbed himself clean in an extra meticulous manner. Almost self deprecating, almost as if he wanted to remove his skin as a whole. Almost as if he regretted fucking a stranger just for the pleasure of it, again. But like most things about him, it’s only ever going to be an almost. Even for himself.

It’s so humiliating, choking on his dick while desperately trying to find relief, but she has to do it. She has to. His imposing aura doesn’t make her do anything that he doesn’t want to be done. Also, sucking the cock of one of the hottest guys on campus is a major turn on for whoever gets to do it, and she’s not passing up the opportunity to tell her friends from her hometown about it. She’s been at this college just two weeks and she already achieved this? They’re not going to believe their ears. 

She doesn’t know that she’s not special: he’s known for fucking random girls, but they still flock to him like moths to a flame. Maybe it’s his bad boy aura, or them thinking they could change him, but the only real fact is that he’s still fucking and they’re still getting their hearts broken. Not like he gives a single fuck, anyway. As long as he gets an orgasm out of it.

“Hollow those cheeks,” he grunts, and she obliges. He’s getting bored, her head game isn’t that strong, and at this rate he’s never going to cum in time. He looks at the clock again. He has 5 minutes. This girl is sure taking her sweet time, and he’s pretty sure she already came 2 different times from how wet his foot is feeling and how she’s losing momentum again. Disgusting. Nasty whore.

He concentrates on feeling at least a bit of euphoria, making his orgasm nearer. He’d fuck her throat, but he doesn’t feel like it this morning since his head is still hurting a bit, and whatever he decides to do is law inside of his room. He’s about to nut, and he knows her jaw must be hurting, but it’s not his fault he lasts long. They never complain about it when they’re getting pounded, either. 2 minutes.

Suddenly, someone knocks at his door. He rolls his eyes and ignores it. Then, another three knocks. His eye ticks. Time slows down for him: he sees the girl at his feet widening her eyes and hazily looking up at him. He has a quick realization: he was about to cum and now he’s not going to. Then, a slow one: he’s pissed off because of the quick realization. He acts as if he didn’t hear it, again, and the girl opens her mouth again, but whoever is on the other side must be pretty persistent, because they start knocking and this time they don’t stop.

Now he’s not only pissed off, he’s angry. Who the fuck disturbs him on a Saturday morning?

He scowls, scoffs and then stands up. “I’m fucking coming,” he loudly says. He almost hears someone say fucking finally, but he’s not sure of it. He gives them the benefit of the doubt.

He doesn’t spare the girl on the floor a second glance before getting her out of the way by her hair and putting on a pair of sweatpants. She tumbles, not sitting prettily anymore. She looks disheveled and a bit out of words. He senses she didn’t get the memo since she hasn’t moved from her place. She’s pissing him off, too. He hates dumb bitches.

“Dress yourself up. You have ten seconds before I open this damn door and let whoever the fuck is here see you like this,” he coldly says. She tries to respond, and he loses all his patience.

“Ten, nine, eight…” he starts counting fast. She wobbles over her dress as fast as she can and pulls it on her head, trembling, mascara from last night still on her cheeks, a bit of her spit on her chin. He’s so scary when he’s mad. Sexy, too, but really fucking scary. She finds that she’s not able to look up at him anymore, almost bowing while she brushes her hair with her hands. He’s not a king anymore, he’s a tyrant.

“But ‘Kuna, I thought we-” 

He snickers, then stops looking at her again. “Girl, I don’t even remember your name. There’s no us. And stop calling me like that, it’s so fucking annoying.”

She feels like crying. She realizes that the degrading persona in the sheets wasn’t an act, he’s like that in real life too, and she gave it to him like he was special. Like she was special.

He slams the door open and instantly feels a punch on his naked chest. Huh?

“Ew,” you say surprised, jumping back, cleaning your hand on your jeans and making a disgusted face. He raises an eyebrow.

“Ew? Who the fuck are you? What the fuck do you want?” he curses. Who do you think you are?

You stretch your lips, giving his figure a once over. He’s half naked, gray sweatpants low on his hips, very tattooed. A really big contrast with the color of his hair, which is a bright pink. He’s tall, and very strong if his bulging muscles are an indicator of that. You guess he’d look scary if you weren’t slightly upset.

“I’m your new neighbor, if you can call it that. They told me I’d find you here, and I guess I found you,” you tell him trying not to sound too bitter about the fact he so obviously ignored you while you were knocking.

“No shit,” he answers, completely uninterested.

You tell him your name, stretching your hand to shake his. “Hope we can live peacefully for the next couple of years, yeah?” you say, trying (again) to be nice, forcing yourself to smile a little. 

He looks at your hand without bothering to extend his, keeping his arms crossed. He looks utterly disgusted. ”Bye,” he says and he goes to turn back inside his room.

This guy is rude. You don’t do well with people who are rude for no reason whatsoever.

“Well then, I would’ve said I’m sorry for accidentally punching you since I was just about to knock again, but I’m more sorry for my hand who touched you,” you remark, not smiling anymore and glaring at him. 

He raises his eyebrows. Oh, he really doesn’t like you, and he doesn’t even know who you are. Disturbing his peace and acting entitled? Hell no.

“Be grateful you still have a hand,” he growls, glaring at you just as hard.

“Be grateful I let you know I’m moving in without throwing all your shit out of our bathroom, bitch,” you immediately respond. 

He chokes on a laugh. 

“Yeah, sure. There’s no way they gave me a girl as a new roommate, stop using excuses. Did we fuck? Are you here to tell me I’m a big meanie for not contacting you again?” He juts his bottom lip out, like he’s mocking a toddler. “Get the fuck out of my face,” he tells you, starting to close the door in your face.

“No, dumbass, I wouldn’t touch you with the hands of another girl, imagine what I’d do with mine. If you don’t get your shit out in 3 minutes you’ll be washing yourself with hand soap,” you wittily remark.

“‘Ku- Sukuna, who’s that?” You hear from the girl inside of his room.

“Oooh, a girl. Is she the one who put the stick up your ass? Pegged you real good huh?” you ask him, fake smiling.

He looks pissed off to the max.

“Shut the fuck up. Both of you. You, get the fuck out of my room,” he says to the scared girl, “You, we’re done talking, I hate pretentious bitches like you,” he adds giving you a disgusted once over.

He doesn’t expect you to just stare at him, though, and it takes him off guard. He’s confused: not everyday someone tests his patience so hard first thing in the morning and even manages to react like nothing happened. It makes him want to murder you and your stupid attitude.

“Bro, you’re like, so fucking annoying. Whatever, little miss princess who orders everyone around and pretends that they should listen, too,” you tell him, unblinking.

Suddenly he’s all up in your face, towering over you, and you have to pretend that your breath doesn’t hitch. Finding yourself two centimeters from someone’s nose was not on your today’s bingo list. Much less if the person in this situation is more than 200 pounds of pure muscles. 

“What the fuck did you just call me?” He grits through his teeth. You can smell a bit of a smokey undertone in his breath, like he’s not a big smoker but still a smoker.

You get even closer, effectively touching your nose with his. He might be scary and the fact that he has a pair of tattooed eyes under his real ones is kind of freaking you out, but you’re not going to let a guy step on you on your first day of college. This should be one of the best years of your life, dammit.

“I called you a princess. Is that pissing you off, princess?” You repeat. He goes to shove you away but you’re faster and get away on your own.

“3 minutes, asshole. That’s all you have,” you say while walking toward the room close to his, not looking back. You feel his gaze on your back, and you flip him off before slamming your door closed.

Now alone, you start organizing your stuff to make space for the bed frame that should be arriving in a matter of hours. The lady at the reception told you that you’d have a male “roommate” and you planned on asking him for help, but there’s no way you’re asking anyone anything if they’re that big of an asshole.

You hear a light knock on your door and you almost jump out of your skin, startled, until you hear a foreign voice calling for you.

“Hello? Is anyone here?”

You open the door and almost faint. “Oh my God, he shrinked,” you whine.

The pink haired kid you find yourself facing looks confused. 

“Shrinked?” he says pensively. Then he must see how you’re glaring at him kinda meanly, and he gets it. “Oh! You must’ve encountered Sukuna. I’m Yuuji, his brother, nice to meet you,” he clarifies while rubbing behind his ear and smiling gently at you.

You’re so relieved by this piece of information that your demeanor changes radically.

“Well, I must say you two look identical. Minus the fact he’s a total asshole,” you tell him, rolling your eyes and relaxing. He chuckles while nodding, and you keep on rambling. “I’m sorry for not being nice immediately, but it’s been a long day. You know, moving in and all…” you try justifying yourself, smiling sheepishly.

“Sure, I get it. I just wanted to see who’s gonna be here for the next year. If you need a hand with anything don’t hesitate to knock on my door!” he says excitedly. He looks like a softer version of the beast of the man you just came across, and he radiates puppy energy. You can quite literally see his metaphorical tail shaking and his big puppy eyes blinking happily. 

“Oh! You live here? I thought this was supposed to be a dorm for college students,” you ask, curious.

“Yeah, because it is. Big bro convinced the principal or whatever to make me stay, though. I wouldn’t have had a home to stay at, anyway,” he shrugs. You widen your eyes: these are not things you tell a stranger about. This kid is either too naive or too used to things like these. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, like this is a recurrent conversation for him. Like it’s basic knowledge for anyone that comes across him and his brother.

“Oh. I’m sorry for- prying?” you try saying, embarrassed, before changing the topic. “My door is always open too, you know. I have siblings, I don’t mind being interrupted from time to time since I’m used to it. Maybe we could play together? What do you like to do in your free time?”.

He looks at you with big brown eyes. He’s serious for three seconds, and he looks older, wiser. You can feel the way you’re starting to sweat, when he breaks out in a big smile.

“I like you. I don’t mind talking about the way I lack a family, but it’s nice when people act interested in more than that, you know? I like-”

“Brat, how many times have I told you to not bother people with your yapping?” you hear a deep voice saying from outside your door. The child in front of you lowers his metaphorical puppy ears, turning to look at whoever called him.

“But she’s nice! She asked me about it!” he responds. You hear footsteps approaching your bedroom.

“Who are you even talking-” Sukuna stops mid sentence, glancing at your still standing form, then raises one side of his upper lip, almost like he’s snarling. You reciprocate with a scoff of your own.

“Her? Nice?” he says mockingly. 

“Wouldn’t even have guessed you were brothers by the way he has manners you clearly lack,” you respond, glaring at him. He clenches his jaw and you think he’s trying to reign in his temper in front of his little brother, but that must be your impression, because the next thing he does is get him in the air by his collar. Yuuji trashes a little bit, but Sukuna is too strong, and at one point he just gives up.

“Let’s go. You’re not talking to her anymore,” he says to his mini counterpart, beginning to turn around while dragging him behind his back.

“But she asked me to play with her! Come on, bro, I’m bored when you’re not here,” Yuuji says while pouting. In all of this you just stood next to your open door. You almost pity the little puppy, he genuinely seems like a good kid, and maybe it’s the big sister in you but you’d hate your little brother to be bored and sad while doing nothing.

“If you help me set up my room, we can play aaaall day,” you suddenly say, getting out in the hallway and winking at the smallest of the two. Sukuna stops dragging his little brother and snaps his head toward you.

He narrows his eyes. “You little-”

Yuuji manages to free himself from his brother’s hold and comes running in front of you.

“Deal! Deal!” he responds excitedly, then gets into your room and starts unpacking by himself. You chuckle, then smile to yourself: he makes you miss home.

“If you so much as crumple his shirt, consider yourself a dead woman,” you hear Sukuna’s breath on your neck. Your hairs stand and a shiver runs down your back.

“Sir yes sir,” you say, gulping loudly. It’s not until you hear him walking away that you turn around.

“Yo, big guy, did you manage to free the bathroom from your ugly 3 in 1 body wash?”

He flips you off, then gets out without saying another word.

[caraphernellie]

𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥.

CONTENT | ellie teaching u how to play pool. heavy sexual tension. heavy praise kink, usage of 'good girl' and other pet names. kinda voice kink? sub!reader, dom!ellie. fingering, oral (r!receiving all). strip teasing. not plot focused at all. fwb but with some feelings reader can't be assed to unpack. ellie is fucking dorky. eight-ball (reader's version).

AUTHOR'S NOTE | posted this little blurb on january first last year, so here we go! happy new years. loved that blurb so much i had to extend it, and make it smuttier. this is really just praise kink central. especially after seeing this random pic on pinterest. winners love winning! ellie pic by @/Quelbia94 on pinterest.

　　WC: 2.0K | ELLIE'S MASTERLIST | BOYCOTT TLOU

A peaceful winter night. Cold is the air, and warm are her hands pressed on your forearms. Moving you into place, your hip meeting the pool table.

The annual ski trip with friends has taken a private turn today, with you and Ellie left behind at the lodge all night. The rest of your group had been wanting to spend New Year's Eve at the bar, but you couldn't think of any worse way to spend the night. With them out of the way for a long few hours, Ellie found purpose in the time alone with you.

Teaching you how to play pool, of course! The table in this Air BnB has remained unused by your entourage in the many trips you've taken—it's left Ellie dying to show off her prowess. Joel taught her well.

She grabs a cue and positions herself behind you. The table isn't yet set up for a proper game, only a few balls ready for the basics to be taught. She briefly explained the rules, but certainly isn't sure you took it all in.

"Alright, you want the long explanation, or do you just want me to show you how to fuck shit up?" She asks, her grin evident in voice. You can't see her but somehow you can picture the look she's wearing; dimpled smirk, eyes laser focused on your side profile.

"Hm," you scoff, "well, obviously I need to know the basics first. Then you can start adding in all the crazy tricks after."

"'Kay, gimme your dominant hand," Ellie says, already reaching for your hand. "You wanna hold the stick with this hand, and rest the narrow end on your other hand."

You stand there and do absolutely nothing. She manoeuvres you like a puppet, guiding your hands into the correct position. The end of the cue touches your index finger, and is pointed straight ahead where the cue ball lies.

"This hand never moves." Ellie's fingers tap your non-dominant hand as she speaks, "you can use it to aim and that's it. Try."

"Uh-huh," you murmur, leaning down lower. You keep your eyes on the white ball and the blue one behind it. You drive the cue forward and it hits the ball softly, yet it doesn't move far.

"Bit more force," Ellie whispers, and her hand moves over yours already. She guides you through a few practise strokes before letting you line up another shot. "You just have to look at the location of the balls to figure out how weak your shot needs to be, you know?"

"Sorry not everyone's an expert at the lamest games imaginable," you mutter, but she takes your jest in stride only for the way you laughed.

It is true, to be fair—she is a ridiculous tryhard.

"S'okay, don't worry," Ellie says. Her voice is soft as silk right now, tone light and reassuring. "You're just practising. Still learning."

It is admittedly hard to focus on your aim when you can feel her softly breathing against your neck. Ellie being so close, it takes your mind back to the times in the past when she's breathed into your neck, her chest flush with your back.

Normal friends don't do that shit.

Normal friends don't think about each other this way. Friends can usually interact with each other without being reminded of the nights they've shared in bed together. This entire situation you're stuck in takes the wind out of your lungs, aches when you dwell on it too long, and yet like an addict, you can't bring yourself to put an end to it.

Albeit distractedly, you take a shot. It's firm, and sends a couple balls rolling.

"Good girl."

Right here is your reason to never walk away from Ellie.

Her voice.

Sweet talking woven into a low, raspy drawl. Praises and compliments that warm your stomach. Blood rushing everywhere—the heat filling not only your face, but your panties.

And it seems she hasn't got a clue. Shouldn't she have caught on by now? One would think she does it on purpose, but Ellie's far from calculated when it comes to flirting.

"This was much better." She's firm, now squeezing your waist as she murmurs close to your ear. "Few more practise shots, yeah?"

"Yeah," you repeat, focusing your mind—or attempting to do so—back towards the task at hand.

A few more practise shots manage to raise your confidence, and Ellie affirms each shot by patting your hip and whispering whatever encouragement she happens to find.

With your confidence growing, tension grows alongside it. Each praise throws out your balance a little, gives your heart a stutter, and flushes warmth and wetness into your panties. It's pathetic, you can't help but think. Can't even hang out with her anymore without this sort of thing happening.

Ellie is less than innocent here. She has paid far more attention than you thought, intention behind every word and every touch provided to you. She couldn't help herself.

"See, I think you might already be almost as good as me. Almost." Ellie chuckles, moving towards the table. She takes the triangle to set up a game, and flicks her gaze up. "You ready for a real game now? I'll go easy on you. Wouldn't wanna make you cry losing your first game."

"Oh, wow, I'm so intimidated," you retort, void of enthusiasm. Cocky girl, she is. But you won't let her stroke her ego tonight, you're desperate to have the upper hand. "I actually thought we could play a different version of the game. My version."

Ellie laughs. Laughs, because she hasn't got a clue what's coming for her. "So you're already trying to cheat?"

"No, this is my new game and you're gonna play with me. It's where we abandon every single rule... and every ball that you sink equals a layer of my outfit coming off. Doesn't that sound more fun?"

"What?"

"Do you need me to go over the rules again?" You ask. And Ellie is seconds away from trying to kiss that wry grin off your face.

"You are a pain in my ass." And yet, she snatches the cue from you. "So, what happens if I sink the eight ball right away? Lap dance?"

"Yeah, that's not happening," you mutter. "Just play the game."

Ellie laughs softly, shaking her head. "Alright, jesus. Pushy."

From beneath her full lashes, adventurous thyme greens glare up at you. They track your movement, watching you take a seat on the bar stool beside the table. Her eyes return to the white ball, beginning to line up the first shot.

And once it's taken, she stands, and looks up at you expectedly.

"What?" You ask. "Don't— be serious, there's no fucking way you sunk one already."

"Heighten your expectations, babe," Ellie chimes, "now, am I allowed to pick what comes off first?"

"N— seriously? I hate you so much."

"Just take your top off already, please."

Well, this game may end up shorter than you'd anticipated. She's made of excellent aim.

Deliberately void of haste, you pull your top up and over your head. Ellie stifles a snort, her mind likening it to unwrapping a present. You're left in a black bra and jeans, eyes rolling before landing back on Ellie.

The girl scoffs, shaking her head before surveying the pool table and planning another move. Perhaps this will backfire on you after all, because Ellie targets the balls nearest to the pockets. She's getting this over and done with in a pinch.

Soon you're in just your underwear, the next garment to come off being your bra, and you're watching her carefully. A blue ball sinks and you tut, voice growing whiny.

"This isn't fair, you're rushing this. I pass this round."

"You think you get to pass? That wasn't one of the rules you declared when we started this game of yours," Ellie reminds, approaching you with narrowed eyes. "I'm playing fair according to your rules."

You groan and tip your head back with utmost annoyance until a warm hand cups your cheek and directs you back to her—and her free hand is fumbling with the clip of your bra.

"You've got to take the shit off."

She finally manages to undo it and the lacy lingerie slips down your shoulders, bestowing upon her the sight of your chest. Cool air slips in through the open window, and not even the lodge's heater can help you. Goosebumps rise and your nipples grow firm at the chill.

"That's better," Ellie whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheekbone gently. "One more shot."

Pushing past how exposed you suddenly are, you watch Ellie line up another shot. You're hardly able to pay attention with the growing heat between your thighs, yet she's aiming straight for the eight ball this time. It's loaded with cockiness, and overridden by dorky commentation.

"She shoots..." Ellie knocks a green ball with her cue. It hits the eight ball and it rolls agonisingly slowly across the table, finally falling into the pocket. "Aaaaand she scores."

"You're so immature," you mutter, standing up finally. Ellie's unbothered as always, an arm swiftly moving around your waist as she places her cue down.

"Better get those panties off," she says, tone making it sound like a suggestion, though it's certainly a demand. "I won fair and square! Let me have my prize."

Your fingers hook into the sides of your panties, sliding them down your legs before stepping out of them. Baring yourself for your friend, it's such a strange feeling. It can be conflicting, but turns euphoric as soon as her eyes drag over your form.

"Good girl," Ellie murmurs. "Ain't you pretty like that? C'mere."

Kisses peppered along your jaw lead to your lips, your body resting against the side of the table. You're bordering on sitting on it, Ellie's hands moving with a mind of their own to spread your thighs.

A messy exchange of spit and clashing teeth is interrupted with you throwing your head back. She's pretty much lathering her fingers with the glistening essence of your pussy, stroking them up and down.

"So wet," Ellie whispers, softly laughing against the nape of your neck. She presses a kiss to the waiting skin there, fingers finding their way to your hole. She slips them in slowly, listening to the strained moan it elicits.

She almost wants to moan herself at the way you clench on her fingers, the feeling warm, wet, and tight. She curls her fingers, thumb brushing over your clit and she has to chuckle at your keen and whimper. "That good, huh?"

"Fuck," your tender whisper is swallowed by her lips, kissing, biting, licking into your mouth. Your trembling knees threaten to give out but Ellie hooks your leg over her hip, pushing you against the table even firmer.

"I got you," she mumbles, attention focused between your legs where a white ring is forming around her knuckles. "God, you're a work of art like this. Take it so well, don'tcha?"

"Mhm." Your desperate coos don't go unnoticed, the pretty sounds of you getting closer and closer to the edge spurring her on.

"Hold on, okay?" Ellie smiles, and that gorgeous grin would seem so innocent in any other circumstance, but she moves to her knees, flushed face staring up at you. She keeps your leg over her shoulder and hums appreciatively as your hand threads into her hair—she will be the death of you.

Her fingers continue plowing into you, erotic squelching sounds forming as she moves her hand, and your legs buckle once her tongue slides over your clit.

"Hhn, Els, shit. I'm close," you whine, hand tangling into her hair while the other squeezes and squishes your tits unconsciously. "Please, please, just like that."

Ellie holds that eye contact, not wavering for even a second. Her tongue laves over your clit, she sucks the engorged bud between her lips and your entire body jolts, a pitchy moan eliciting from your lips as an orgasm hits you.

And she slurps up every drop, from your clit to the juices leaking down her wrist.

"Atta fuckin' girl."

Ellie rises to her feet with a hand neatening up her tousled hair, licking her lips clean as she glances at the clock.

"And happy new year."

[sevikafucker]

Blindfold

Sevika X F!Reader

You get caught not listening when Silco and Sevika are speaking with you. It bites you in the ass. But the cards still seem to be in your favor.

A/N: Reader is meant to be a highly trained fighter. Something like red room. Nothing is too in depth but I'm thinking about making another one-shot going deep into that idea. I don't think I've ever written WLW smut before??? I hope this is as good as I intended it to be! This is just what I want to do to her. As always, reader is living out my dreams. divider by cafekitsune

CW: SMUT! 18+ (please consume media responsibly), no use of y/n, experienced reader, nonsexual blindfolding, nonsexual biting, vaginal fingering, oral, not beta read

Word count: 2.6k

Your eyes watched Sevika. Always on Sevika. She was focused on Silco though. They were speaking, but you heard nothing of what they were talking about. Your eyes locked in on her waist as she shifted her weight. Her stomach was very much visible.

Fuck.

She was killing you. You wanted nothing more than to be between those legs. You wanted to make her-

“Do you think you could do that?” Silco asked you. His lips were in a line. He knew you were not listening.

“Oh,” You let out a low laugh, “I could do that blindfolded.” You waved a hand around as if it were nothing. You had this in the bag.

Silco smiled widely, suddenly you felt fear. Wrong answer. You wanted to run when Sevika stepped towards you. It was not in your nature to run, but you really did not want to cause any strife with the woman you yearned for.

“Get this girl a blindfold.” Silco looked at Sevika.

You were going to burst. You gave Silco a confused look and Sevika excused herself. You let out a nervous laugh and Silco laced his fingers together. He watched you with a hint of excitement in his eyes What the fuck did I agree to? You did not want to ask. Your pride seemed to get the best of you.

“You are highly trained?” Silco asked, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Yes, sir.” You nodded. “I trained for years, under horrible circumstances really. One time-”

Sevika made her return, interrupting you, a thick strip of fabric in hand. Your stomach flipped and you swallowed hard. If you were lucky, she was going to get freaky with you in the middle of Silco’s office. You could not be so lucky. Instead, Sevika came up behind you and asked if you were ready.

“Um,” You put a hand up, “can I get a refresher? On what I’m doing?”

Silco’s sick smile only widened, and he looked to Sevika. Her dark eyes met yours and a shiver ran down your spine. “You said you could fight me. Blindfolded.”

“Oh, I did.” You nodded. “I did say that.” You pretended to remember. “But,” You look around, “here in the office is a little, I don’t know, uncaring. Don’t you think, sir?” You looked at Silco, nails scraping for any semblance of sympathy.

Sadly, all you get is apathy.

“Just don’t break anything.”

Oh, this is totally normal. You gave Sevika a look of uncertainty and she brought the blindfold up. “Are you ready?” You bit back a groan and nodded. ‘Just don’t break anything’ rings through your skull. How the fuck do I keep from doing that? Sevika placed the blindfold over your eyes and tied it. Tight.

There was a thick silence and then Sevika’s hand gently brushed your face. “You can’t see?” You shook your head. “Good.” Sevika stepped in front of you and took several steps, you heard her. You heard her boots hit the ground and summed she was turning to face you.

You knew that begging was not an option. You knew that you had to face the consequences of your actions, of your lust. You took a deep breath and readied yourself. You kept steady, bringing your fists up, and listening. Closely. You were not given a word to go. You were waiting patiently. But, once again, only apathy.

You heard Sevika’s heavy boot squeak against the floor and time seemed to slow. You knew her fist was coming for you; it had to be. You quickly ducked and kicked your foot out. Hard. It hit Sevika’s shin, and she stumbled. You heard her heavy boots hitting the floor. You followed the noise. You swung your fist out and it hit Sevika. You thought maybe her cheek. Her response was one you expected but had hoped would not happen.

Sevika let out a short yell and quickly became more unpredictable. A fist slammed into your side, and you let out a yelp. Falling onto the hard floor. You scrambled to stand, and another blow came down, her foot to your thigh. You were not giving up. You were not brought up to do that.

You listened closely. Sevika was close. Your hands grabbed, for something, anything. Sevika was in your grasp in seconds, and you brought her towards you. Bad move. You realized too late. Sevika’s hand pressed into the side of your face, she was trying to get you down. You moved, maneuvering away slightly and your teeth caught her hand. You bit down. Sevika did not make a noise.

Instead, she manhandled you down. Your back hit the floor, your head bouncing slightly. You released Sevika’s hand and let out a loud cry. Sevika straddled you. Under any other circumstance you would have been completely and utterly turned on. But something snapped inside of you.

Memories of training came back. How horribly mistreated you were to create what was before Sevika was not leaving anytime soon. Sevika started talking, but you could not hear it. You were frozen under her, eyes wide behind the blindfold. Your breath hitched and the room started to spin. Tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, getting caught in the fabric.

“Get up!” You interrupted her and Silco. “I can’t- Can’t breathe!” You were frantic. You were still unmoving though. Everything was tense, and you could not move.

Sevika, confused, stood up. You ripped the blindfold from your eyes and stood. You looked odd to say the least. Your breathing was rapid, and your eyes looked around frantically. Your bottom lip poked out and you turned away from the two of them. “What’s going on?” Sevika asked first. Silco and her watching as you began to hightail it out of there.

“I’m so sorry.”

You left the office, tears staining your cheeks. You felt so small, having them see you like that. You could barely calm down. You found your room, slammed and locked your door, and placed your back against the wood. You let out a quiet sob. Your eyes shut tight. You did not want to think about what you used to do.

But that was the reason Silco took you in, after all. You would never be able to fully leave your past behind you.

You walked towards your bed and tried to catch your breath. You sucked down air, your fingers gripping and pulling at the hem of your shirt. You sat on the edge of the bed and sighed. You needed an outlet.

You heard your name being called. You, for a moment, thought it was your imagination. Then there was a knock at your door. “It’s me.” Sevika sighed. “Can I come in?”

You had been wanting to get Sevika in your room since you first laid eyes on her. Your jaw clenched and you stood up. You walked towards the door and unlocked it. Your hand grabbed the knob, and you sighed. You opened the door and Sevika looked concerned. “Did you come to drag me back in front of Silco so-”

“No.” Sevika interrupted, “I came to check on you. You were obviously not okay when you left.”

“I'll be okay.” You reassured her. “I’m sorry I bit you. I didn’t- I thought you were going to hurt me-” You paused. “Worse than you already were.” Sevika was stunned. She stood in your doorway. “You can come in, I guess. If you didn’t come to torment me.”

Sevika gave you a look and pushed past you. You closed your door and turned to face her. She placed her right hand on her hip and examined you. Closely. You swallowed hard and your arms hugged your abdomen tightly. Sevika’s gaze did not let up.

“You’re stressed.” Sevika was blunt. “You need something to help you.”

“I know,” You mumbled and shoved your hands into your pockets. “Normally,” Your voice was still low, “to ease the stress, I just ate pu-” You stopped yourself. You pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned. “Sorry.”

“You were able to do that?” Sevika cocked a brow at you. “Eat pussy?”

Heat prickled across your cheeks. You were on fire. “Yes.” You did not even nod. “All of us who were being trained, we had only each other. It was stress relieving, getting intimate, or even sexual with the other women.” Sevika shrugged, “There’s a brothel.”

“No money.” You pulled your pockets out and showed her evidence of your poorness. “I may be rich in strength, but I have no money.”

Sevika shifted. She sighed and looked up, thinking, before her eyes met yours again. “Look,” She started and took a step towards you. “I see how you stare at me. I know you weren’t listening to Silco earlier because you were too busy thinking about me.” You are suddenly a lovesick puppy staring at Sevika, waiting for her next sentence. “And lucky for you, that earlier fight really turned me on.”

She took a step forward and your heart thumped in your chest. “Are you offering what I think you’re offering?” You were stunned, a goofy grin spreading across your face.

Sevika rolled her eyes. “I am. I’ll revoke it though, unlike you, I have money to spend elsewhere.”

“You would not be that cruel, would you?” You pouted. “Come on! I’ll give you the time of your fucking life. I’ve got a lot of practice.” You wiggled your brows at her.

“That better be a promise.” Sevika kicked off her boots and walked towards your bed. She sat down on the edge of it, and you were quick to throw yourself at her feet, wedging yourself between her knees.

“Can I kiss you?” You asked, voice dripping like sweet honey.

“So polite,” Sevika cooed at you. “Because you asked so nicely, I’ll allow it.” She laughed softly. You pushed yourself up slightly and cupped her face. The kiss was soft at first. Until your tongue traced her bottom lip. Sevika let out a low grumble and her mouth opened. Within seconds the kiss was rougher than you had anticipated. Before you could push your tongue into her mouth, she was shoving hers into yours. You moaned loudly and let her explore your mouth.

After a few minutes, you pulled from her lips and peppered gentle kisses down her jaw. Your hands pulled at her clothes, and you pulled away long enough to take her shirt off. You mumbled praises into her skin and Sevika watched you intensely. Her moans and quiet groans echoed inside of your head. It was intoxicating.

Your thumbs rubbed circles on her exposed hips, above her pants. You kissed down her chest and stopped briefly at her breasts, bringing one of her nipples into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around it smiled against Sevika’s skin when her right hand went into your hair. She tugged softly.

“You're gentle, ah,” She sighed, “for someone who had it so rough.”

You did not respond with words. Instead, you took her nipple between your teeth and looked up at Sevika through your lashes. Her eyes did not break contact with yours. You released her and kissed down her stomach. The muscles of her abdomen were so toned, defined… Different from the stomachs you had once kissed.

Your fingers expertly undid the button of her pants and your hands, and you pulled her pants from legs, effortlessly. It was unreal. Really. Your head was spinning again, but for a completely different reason that time. Where to start? You thought to yourself momentarily.

“Don’t get choked up now.” She smirked at you.

You looked up at Sevika with narrowed eyes, but you didn’t respond. Instead, your fingers danced across her thighs and your head burrowed between them. Your lips pressed soft kisses against her skin, your teeth scraping the flesh. Sevika’s hands gripped the sheets. You were being so deliberate and delicate with your motions. Sevika deserved nothing but that.

You thought about leaving marks on her thighs, but that could wait. You needed to taste her. You reached her folds and sucked in air, diving in headfirst. Your fingers spread her lips, and your tongue licked a slow, experimental stripe up her pussy. Sevika let out a low groan and her thighs tensed. Your eyes shut and a hand was immediately in your hair, nails scraping against your scalp.

“Look at me.” Sevika spoke through gritted teeth.

She was proving a point. She was still in control even if you had her this way. Your eyes snapped open as your tongue circled her clit. Sevika’s hips rolled right into your mouth and your hands gripped her thighs tightly. You needed more of her.

Your face was buried deep in her cunt, tongue working overtime. You let out a low rumble, face pressed into her, and Sevika moaned. Your nose bumped her clit, and her hips jerked again. You held her in place, pushing her hips back down on the bed. Until one of your hands slid down her thigh, and right towards her pussy. You kept your eyes on her as your tongue moved to the bundle of nerves and you slid a finger into her entrance.

Your finger curled inside of her and Sevika let out a louder moan. She had been grunting, her breathing getting harder. But you needed her to be louder. You had to hear her. Sevika’s hand held your head in place, keeping you where she wanted you.

You began to suck on her clit and another finger slipped inside her. Once again, you were extremely calculated with your movements. You wanted her to feel good. It was not enough, the position you were in. You threw her thigh over your shoulder and pushed up, knocking Sevika onto her back. You were starting to throb, but you had to take care of Sevika.

“Fuck,” Sevika watched you, her eyes almost closed. She could not look away from you, and you were not looking away from her.

You felt Sevika begin to tense, her whole body was wound tight. Her hips rolled upwards, into your mouth and you let her. You stopped holding her hip down. Sevika’s hand gripped your hair a little lighter and she shoved you further into her pussy. She was close and you were not letting up.

Your tongue swirled around her clit again and you felt her spasm around your fingers. You picked up your pace and smiled against Sevika. Her whole body began to shake, and her eyes shut tight. You did not look away.

Her face contorted with ecstasy and bliss. Sevika threw her head back and you began to slow your movements. You pulled your fingers from her, but you did not pull away from her completely. She still had a grip on you. So, you continued to lick and suck. Once her hand fell from your head you pulled back and rested your cheek on her thigh.

“You’re beautiful.” You watched her, taking everything in. Sevika did respond with words. She swallowed hard and sat up, a groan leaving her lips. “Sevika?” You did not remove yourself from her legs. Sevika hummed and you continued. “Thank you, I feel better now.”

Sevika leaned down and cocked her head at you. “Did you just thank me?” You nodded and smiled wider. “You’re bizarre.”

“I get that a lot, really.” You pushed back and sat on your butt. “Well,” You clicked your tongue. “I gotta take care of myself now, if you wanted to leave-”

“I think,” Sevika interrupted you, “that you deserve something in return. I’ve been wanting to get between your thighs since you arrived.”

It was the beginning of a long night, and you could not wait to see what was in store for you and Sevika.

[nysrage]

THE HOUSE PARTY, Onyankopon.

synopsis: after long nights of studying & days of grueling tests, you needed an outlet to relax. you didn’t expect to do it with your crush though.

content: ony’s an alpha, college au, house party, sororities & fraternities, alcohol, explicit language, sexual tension, college ‘crush’ that’s rlly yo man, a smidge of fluff, & smut.

nys note: would you believe this was all inspired from the twitter link below… lol it’s giving ‘options’ remix for ony.

Midterms had finally come to an end and everyone on campus could finally take a deep breath. whether they passed or failed, they were all looking for an outlet to get school work off their mind. Including you. The first year of college has been an adjustment, juggling school and finally being on your own. exploring different sides of yourself, making friends and losing bonds that you thought would last forever. it could all pile up at times. plus the overwhelming tears were growing old, but you couldn’t deny that the main reason you seeked a party was because you wanted to see your lil ‘friend’ tonight too. midterms had the two of you so busy with little time to speak focused on nothing but your education. so you decided to join the scene with your girls.

The street of the apartment complex was full of people either just arriving, talking, smoking, or waiting to get behind that door of the house party. Thrumming of the speakers could be heard before even reaching the top of the stairs, the opening door pouring out clouded smoke soon as it opens. You and your group of friends navigate through the crowd. Each of your index fingers locked into eachothers belt loops so no one could get lost or pulled away without notice. The house dimmed and filled with ambient led lights. People of all different backgrounds crowded to each corner with either a cup, blunt, or some ass in their hands. Letting loose for the night and celebrating their time as a college student.

You and your group of 3 settled behind the enclosed circle of people dancing and catching ass. Finally happy with the view you had of everyone and the exits of the place, throwing back a couple shots and dancing to the music. Recording the whole moment on the camcorder your influencer bestie brought to vlog her stay. The content being provided to her back to back since the night began, and even more more since that whistle of the sorrors and frats began. The intro of ‘another nasty song’ oozing out of the speakers, groups of people surrounding the greeks as they lineup for their strolls.

The alphas happening to be right next to you and your friends, performing their stroll so perfectly. That black and old gold contrasting nicely against their skin. One alpha in particular catching your eyes. Onyankopon, your lil friend that you found yourself pinning over since you stepped onto campus. Nice chocolatey smooth skin, thick brows, full lips, and a small faded curly fro. Dimpled cheeks and pretty white teeth on display as he strolls, glancing over the surrounding people until they landed on you. Looking you over real good, biting down on his bottom lip between their signature words “Who You Wit?” Many of their seducing looks they give to their audience.

The dj transitioning into the throwbacks once the strolls were done. ‘party’ by beyoncé filling the room, as your favorite alpha towered over you. “okayy, friend! you lit huh?” you giggled, giving him a playful pat to the chest. “What’s goin’? Ain’t seen you in a minute.” acknowledging your nosy friends with a nod, busy whispering and betting on when y’all would cut the act. “Been out the way, y’all new jackets are nicee!” Toying with the zipper on his fraternities varsity jacket, looking himself over slightly with a smirk. “Preciatee it, preciatee it.. You look good too.” His monotone voice barely audible over the blasting music. Leaving you leaning in to hear his words best you could, “Huh? Couldn’t hear you.” just for ony to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you close, sexy voice speaking intently in your ear. “You look good as fuck right now.”

“Thank you.” whispering back shyly, all flustered and looking anywhere but his face. Refusing to fall into the trap of men, but the longer you two talked to each other the more you found yourself wanting him more. He was upperclass, only by a year but he was still very known around camp, and not bad looking in the least. Walking different girls to class, seducing woke with one look during his stroll, and always dressed to impress whether it’s chill or not. You wanted nothing to do with being another girl in his roster, but the two always seemed to gravitate towards each other.

Ony glanced behind him, scoping out the small space. “C’mere..” taking your hands in his and pulling you close to dance, swaying your body back and forth. Ony bending down to your height to whisper in your ear, “Missed you pretty girl.” His voice deep and smooth, traveling from your ear and straight to your core. “Looking and smelling all delicious tonight.” running his hands along your hips, admiring the slight fit your put on for the function. “Someone’s had a few, been partying good huh?” Dodging those little comments, trying your best to steer the convo but ony wasn’t having it. Not tonight. “This cool n’ all, I was really tryna be on sum chill tonight.”

“Really? after being tied down to class these past few weeks.” not convinced of anything but ony was persistent. “even after being tied down.”

Replying with a small hum, the tension between you was louder than the speakers in the room. Ony just staring at your pretty face without much to say, nerves leaving you rocking back and forth. “what..?”

“tryna follow me? need to talk to you.” Maybe it was the liquid courage but tonight you’d take your chances even if it was for one night only. So you let your friends know of your whereabouts, and followed him to his room.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Walking around the space, taking it all in. Very neat, cozy, and smelled of mahogany teakwood. His desk area full of intricately placed papers and photos of his personal achievement, family, and friends. The click of the door and his voice pulls your mind away from the frames. “Why you keep playing?”

“We’ll your bold all of a sudden..” You huffed, typing away nervously at your phone. Randomly in your bestfriend message thread just to avoid those pretty brown eyes you always got so lost in. “M’serious. Why you playing games?”

“This got to be the liquor talking.” You chuckled, pushing your hair from in your face. “I don’t play games ony..” Finally meeting his eyes, arms crossed as the two of you went back and forth. “Mmcht, ain’t no need for liquid courage. This oblivious shit ain’t getting me where I need to be, and that’s with you.”

“There’s nothing oblivious here ony..” Trying to convince not only him but yourself. You couldn’t grow weak in the knees the first time he pressed your relationship, not when he could be filling your ear with anything he wants. “So you can tell me face to face that you don’t want me too..?” Voice sweet and sincere. His eyes darting nervously around your face waiting for your answer. Not one cocky or proud bone in his body that led you to believe he was feeding you bullshit for just another notch in his belt. All of those walls falling just enough to let him in, finally admitting to yourself that the attraction was mutual. “I c-can’t, cause I want you too.”

Ony takes a step forward, a small smile on his lips from your nervousness. Thumb lifting your chin to put that pretty face on display for him. Running the pad of his thumb along the soft skin of your face. “You know you my baby, lemme in that pretty mind of yours. So I can get to know all of you and make you mine.” and those words were sealed with the soft feeling of his lips on yours. A small peck that had you going back on every single word you meant to stand on. “You gone stay with me..?” Nodding your head with a soft smile. Ony pulling you in for yet another kiss, slipping his tongue in your mouth and intertwining it with yours. Swallowing the whimper you gave him when his strong hand collided with your ass. Kiss so hot and steamy that it lead you right into his bed, where you’ve wanted to be for as long as the two of you were friends.

“o-ohh my godd!” Moaning out loud as you wanted, every sound from his room drowned out by the thrumming speakers in the distance. House party still going strong whether he’d been occupied or not.

Lips red and swollen from how much you’ve been biting down hard on your lip while ony had you in doggy, taking his deep strokes. Moans falling constantly from your lips while your warm slick pooled around his pretty brown dick. Filling you up so full and caressing that sweet spot within, strong hips colliding with your ass as ony watches the recoil. “Mmm, damn that pussy feel so fucking good.” hand gripping at your fleshy hip, eyes focused on where the two of you were connected. listening to the beautiful sounds of his heavy balls slapping against your throbbing clit, and the gushing squelch of your pussy had him losing himself inside you. His moans and groans mixing with yours as he gave you every inch of that dick. “mh—ouu, shittt. mhmm.” voice shaking from that fast approaching nut he’d been holding out on. Wanting a few more out of you himself before he was finished with you.

“Yes onyy, you fuck me so good!” but after these few words from you, he found himself letting go. “Yea, you like this dick?” hips pistoning faster, pounding into you hard and steady leaving your eyes meeting the back of your skull. Wet two-toned pussy gripping him tight to suck him in deeper, as a strings of incoherent moans were exchanged between you too. “ima give you all the dick you want.” Angling his hips towards that spot that greeted him with a stream of squirt, drenching both your thighs and his pelvis. Dick barely staying inside from how wet you were for him. Pulling out and leaving hot streams of nut on your ass, panting and moaning as he came back to. That heavy feeling of something sitting atop of your ass never fading, “Your still hard..?” you questioned, looking back at him with your pretty fucked out face. Giving him that last push to have him standing at attention again.

“you thought i was done?” he chuckled, sinking back into you with a loud squelch.

[yawnderu]

Lorelei — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Part V

1 2 3 4 5 6

Synopsis: Aware of the way his lifestyle doesn't align with your dream life and unwilling to quit his life as a soldier, Simon breaks things off with you. It isn't until a year later that he sees you again, a tiny carbon copy of him held in your arms.

This chapter can be read as a one-shot without having to read the whole story! :)

"Are you staying for Christmas?" You ask casually, decorating the cookies you baked with Simon's help. Your daughter is sleeping peacefully in her crib, a small Santa Claus onesie on her, preparing her for the celebration even when there's still a few hours left.

"You want me to?" He asks with a raised eyebrow, brown eyes fully focused on decorating the head of one of the cookie figures, steady hand drawing a skull pattern with ease.

"It's her first Christmas, I think she'd like having her father around." I want you around as well. He's lucky you're focused on decorating your cookies, missing the way his face lights up with a proud smile. It's a lot of progress.

''Right. I got you both some presents in the car.'' He washes his hands on the sink, giving his daughter one last look before leaving the house, trying to gather as many of the gifts he bought as possible. ''Some presents'' was clearly an understatement— he has been building a pile of gifts for months, his car full of boxes and bags for both you and your little girl.

''Jesus Christ.'' You wash your hands and go help him as you see him struggling to carry the pile, taking some from him and putting them under the Christmas tree.

''There's more in the car.'' He seems almost sheepish as he confesses, giving him a small pat on the arm as you go outside to help him. You almost laugh as you look inside, the entire backseat full of presents. It's almost ridiculous, yet so charming how much he wants to make both of you happy, knowing how much it the holidays mean to you, especially now that you have a daughter.

''Isn't this... a bit overkill?'' You joke, earning you a playful pat on the ass now that your arms are busy. You miss the kick thrown his way, jogging after him with a smile when he playfully gets on the other side of the couch to avoid you getting revenge.

''I still got one more present coming, but that's for later.'' He walks back to the kitchen once he made sure you weren't going to kill him for patting your ass.

''I swear to God, Simon, if it's another d—'' He interrupts you by smearing frosting on your cheek, shooting you a cheeky smile that gets erased the moment you do it back— smearing way more than you should have all over his cheek.

''Bastard.''

Your baby was up by the time it was midnight, excited to see her mum and dad opening up presents and even joining in, tiny hands clearly struggling with the wrapping paper, yet somehow managing without help.

''Strong girl, like her mum.'' You smile softly at his words, looking at the way your daughter stares curiously at one of her last presents; a cactus activated by sound.

''Say 'hello'.'' Simon says, getting closer to the toy until it activates, dancing around and lighting up. Astrid looks confused as she looks at it, brown eyes looking up at you before looking back at the toy.

''Hello.'' He repeats, a warm smile on his lips when the toy starts dancing again, much to your daughter's confusion. She babbles at it, tiny hands reaching out to touch it once it starts moving and playing back her sounds, giggles escaping her lips as the toy imitates her laugh.

Simon's phone vibrates in his pocket, getting up from the couch before looking down at his phone with twinkling eyes.

''My mate's here, I'll be right back.'' He doesn't wait for you to reply, already out of the house before you can even say anything. Your focus is back to your daughter, happy that she enjoys playing with the toy rather than being scared of it like you've seen in videos online. Brave girl she is, not a single lick of fear in her.

Simon comes back a minute later, holding a big German Shepherd that can definitely walk on its own. You give him a questioning look as he sets it on the floor, holding his collar just in case.

''Absolutely not.'' You try to protest, yet your gaze softens when you see Astrid crawl to the dog.

''Wa-wa!'' She points out, tiny hands reaching up to pet the dog the same way you've taught her, gentle. The dog doesn't react much besides laying down on the floor for your daughter to pet it, making it much easier for her.

''His name's Riley, he's a retired K-9. Look, I'll pay for his food and even for someone to come take care of him when I'm not here, I just... want you to be safe.'' There's hints of pleading on his tone, eyebrows slightly furrowed as he looks at you.

''... I'll take care of him.'' You say with a small sigh, knowing Simon wants nothing else than for both of his girls to be safe, especially when he's deployed.

''We gave him extra training to deal with kids and emergencies. Big geezer's patient and good.'' He keeps trying to sell it as if you didn't say yes already, a small giggle escaping your lips before giving him a reassuring smile.

''We'll keep him, don't worry.'' You crouch down to pet the dog, who is clearly enjoying the attention from your daughter, allowing her to rest on his side while petting his head.

There's a smile on his face as he looks down at his family, hands fumbling with the small box in his pocket.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

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[jpnriikicore]

── english love affair ( imagine )

paring lando norris x teammate!reader, word count 885, music 5sos. english love affair ( masterlist )

it started on a weekend in may during the monaco grand prix. lando desperately needed a distraction from his bad results. so, post-race and after horrible prolonged interviews he headed to jimmy’s a bumping night club in monte-carlo.

you were sipping on your first strawberry daiquiri of the night. you were electric on the dance floor. your watercolored eyes met his green ones from the crowded sticky floor to the dj booth. his sun-kissed complexion was so delicious in the low lighting. there was a connection, a magnet drawing you right towards him. he stood right next to his good friend, martin. a mere gaze through the crowd was enough to get blood flowing, breathe hitching in your throat. it was heart-thumping and hypnotic…wait no. you couldn’t think like that about her teammate. especially lando norris who you were warned and warned about mostly by your engineer. he should come with caution tape wrapped around him. a warning sign.

a drink in your right hand singing along to a remix of a song by dr. dre you twirled your friend around with your free hand. a pair of strong arms wrapped around you and immediately recognized the cologne. your breathe hitched in your throat slightly as you accidentally poured a little bit of your liquor on the exposed part of your chest at his sudden action. his head dipped down making eye contact with you as his warm tongue lapped up the dark liquor. he easily led you through the crowd up to the dj booth.

you attempted to ignore the butterflies that fluttered in your stomach when his arms wrapped around your waist. he stepped forward trapping you into between his warm body and the turn table. his hands moving across the table to do an expected beat that wasn’t harsh. you had heard the same sound multiple times. stupidly, he was brought a turn table by someone else that he used to travel everywhere with. on planes, airports, in shared hotels that mclaren accidentally booked wrong, and in the driver's room before races. his hands much thicker and bigger than hers became more and more inevitable.

a few more bitter-tasting dark liquor down your throats offered by mutual friends. his lingered touches became more like groping. anything he could grab your baring hips or ass. desire and lust swim in one another’s eyes as you gaze at each other from across the table when you both down another shot. eventually, you dragged him out of the nightclub with martin taking completely over the turn table. luckily, you weren’t driving your mclaren that night, but instead drove your bentley that offered a little more wiggle room in the backseat. you drank to third base.

you waited in anticipation a bundle of nerves getting worse as your gaze was laser-focused on the clock on the racing circuit after the formation lap. you’re starting in p11 right behind alex and in front of charles. definitely not the results you wanted with tough qualifying. when the lights go out and all the cars jump forward attempting to overtake others on the first turn all you can think about is him. the memories flooding back into your mind similar to a supercut clouding your judgment and focus. you tangled up together in the king-sized bed in your monte carlo apartment that just so happens to be a floor above his that lingers in your mind. if it wasn’t for your engineer yapping to you in your ear. you wouldn’t have snapped back to reality and gained eight positions by the last lap.

lando, a lonely man sitting on the bar stool of the hotel bar. after the canadian grand prix which lando was short of winning. your customized papaya orange bottom heels clicked on the floor as you stepped toward him. the woman bartender wiping down the bar with a damp cloth. the mere graze over one another’s pinkies when you stood beside the stool that he sat on ordering a whiskey. he’s intense stare of his watercolored eyes was enough to do you in. before your mind could catch up with your actions you instinctively reached out at the material of his t-shirt pulling him away from the empty hotel bar. a wad of fifties placed on the sticky alcoholic bar to pay more than enough for the drinks he downed.

hidden away cooped up together tangled in the sheets in your hotel room away from the public eyes for a few days before having to hop on a plane back to reality.

you are currently seven hundred miles away from him visiting another country. him in the uk visiting his homeland and you in australia for pleasure instead of business. seemingly you both agreed to keep some distance in between each other for the sake of the time you spend in the mclaren garage, but both of you knew deep down that you would come back to one another again. you had desperately tried to move on from him, but the fact is there’s no one like him. there’s not even a percentage of the void in you that he created. no one came close to it. it was too good not to. your english love affair.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2024

[naomis-daydream]

love & basketball // paige bueckers

summary: y/n and a particular uconn player get a little to close for comfort on the court, adding fuel to the fire of allegations that the two were more than rivals, quite the opposite in fact.

warnings: none?

a/n: that one game of dijonai and nalyssa? yeah.

✧

your nose scrunches in discomfort as your chin connects with the harsh wooden floor of LSU’s gymnasium. you shake your head at the sting, taking a deep breath before the blow of a ref’s whistle rings you back to reality, signaling a foul on UConn by player number five.

you two had been going back and forth the entire game. you had been crowding her shots with your defense, she’d been faking you out every time you’d think you had her. it was an entertaining game to watch, and even more interesting to play.

your team was down by six, you knew if you got a foul on UConn, you could match the score easy with two free throws. it was hard at first, if you’re being completely honest. you had to get one of the most talented college basketball players to fall into your trap. paige is a good player, a smart one, but so are you.

which brought you here, feeling the pressure of two arms wrapping around your waist, two hands planted to pull you up slowly.

you use the ball to push yourself off the ground, coming to a stand as you push your hips back slightly. paige doesn’t miss the way your ass brushes against her pelvis as you rise, sliding her hands down to your hips to steady you as you passed the ball to the ref.

she leans over slightly as the two of you approach the free throw line, whispering a small, “you good?”

you turn your head slightly but don’t avert your gaze towards her completely, giving a short nod because jogging to meet your teammates for your two frees.

paige was tantalizing, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t gonna let a little slip up throw off the rest of your game, especially this close to march madness. she knew this, which is why her lips pulled into a sly smile as she took her place beside her teammates and across from yours.

nika glances at paige with raised brows, an incredulous expression laced across her face, to which the blonde puts both hands up in defense, mumbling something about simply “helping you up.” the defensive guard shakes her head, facing away from paige and to the center where you got ready to take your shot.

the arena falls silent as you dribble in place a few times, lining up your shot before sending it. you see uconn’s defense attempt to block it, but its through and through. same goes for your second shot, swishing through the hoop as the student section erupts with cheers. you leave your arm in the air, three fingers waving as the clock starts again.

you look back at paige as you begin to jog to your next position, smirking.

oh this was gonna be a fun game.

-

you slowly gather your belongings into your gym bag as the rest of the girls file out, voices overlapping about celebratory plans. you opt to stay back, enjoying the peace and quiet of the empty locker room after a win.

they were no doubt on their way to a local bar or the team dorm hall to round out what’s been an eventful night. it was a close game, 92-89, but LSU managed to pull through.

your post-game plans, however, involved a little less noise and a lot less people. only one, in fact.

as you exit the athletic building, you spotted just the girl you hoped to see, leaning against the brick wall, eyes focused on her phone.

“you know,” you say as you approach her,” you really shouldn’t be out here all by yourself.”

her head pops up, eyes meeting yours from your position a few feet away from her.

“or what, a pretty girl might run up on me? try and steal another dub?”

“i ain’t steal nothing from you, you just gotta work harder if you don’t want me to take it.”

“ohhh,” she laughs, cocking her head to the side, “it’s like that?”

“yeah, it’s like that,” you reply, stepping closer to the girl.

the two of you hold each other’s gaze, eyes only focused one the other. you let your eyes linger over different parts of her face. the blue in her eyes, dust of heat on the apples of her cheeks, and her lips that were pulled into a smug smile.

“you came here to taunt me or are you gonna give me a hug?”

you couldn’t ignore the smile that spreads across your face as you close the gap between the two of you, wrapping your arms around her waist as hers drape over your shoulders, pulling you in deeply.

the two of you sway a little, rocking further side to side as the hug continues. you only stop when you almost fall over. a fit of giggles escape your lips as you regain balance, a few falling from your girlfriend’s as well.

as your laughs subsides, you pull back, just enough so you can see her face, the only noise being the hum of the outdoor lights surrounding you. you stood there for a moment taking each other in, enjoying one of the limited occasions you could do this face to face.

“you know that foul was bullshit, right?”

“oh, whatever!” you say, moving your hands to her lower abdomen as you push her away.

“you guys needed those two points to match us, it’s alright. just know it won’t happen again.”

“if you really wanna talk about what shouldn’t happen on the court, let’s talk about that little stunt you pulled, hm?” you ask, as a dragged out “alright,” leaves the other girl’s mouth.

“i was just tryna help you up.”

“oh, that’s how you help everyone up?”

paige smacks her teeth, shaking her head as she responds, “don’t act like you weren’t tryna push all up on me.” to which you roll your eyes.

a silence falls over the two of you once again. it’s comfortable and soothing, a stark contrast from the early spring chill that occupied the air around you. and again, you admired each other, doe eyes and warm-hearted smiles covering your faces.

paige lifts one hand to your chin, turning your face towards the light. she could see a small bruise on the underside, a slight frown on her face.

you can tell she feels guilty about the fall, even more so now that she sees the redness forming as a result. you wrap your hand in hers, holding it tenderly. “hey, you didn’t bruise me up too badly, okay?”

“yeah, i know,” she mutters, but her eyes are still fixed your chin.

“if you really wanna make it up to me, you could kiss it better,” you suggest.

her furrowed brows turn to raised ones, a smile lingering as a soft, “oh yeah?” leaves her lips.

“mmhm,” you nod, cupping her face, “c’mere.”

✧

[exhaslo]

Over-Time Ch3

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff

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

"On behalf of those of us at Alchemax, we would like to welcome you to our company. Please arrive at the Human Resources floor tomorrow with the information sent via email. We are happy to have you join us."

The shudder in your voice as you resisted the urge to squeal was sharp. You were at your current job, trying to hide from the crowd outside. This phone call was important, you told everyone that, and you were glad you took it.

"(Y/N)! GET OUT HERE WE NEED YOUR CLUMSY ASS!"

You yelped towards your coworker. Tears threatening to spill towards their harsh tone. Luckily you had just finished the phone call. How cruel could they be?

Hurrying back onto the floor, you yelped as another coworker tossed you a bunch of orders. Hurrying towards you station, you tried your best to make the orders but the pressure was getting to you. Everyone's yelling and the pace was too much.

"Strawberries, (Y/N)! Not Blackberries! Damn!"

"S-Sorry," You whimpered.

You hated working here. You hated this job, but this was the only place that could hire you fresh out of college. Everywhere you really wanted to work claimed that you didn't have enough work experience. Well how the hell were you supposed to get that if they didn't give you a shot?

"Hey, goofball, you're taking my shift tomorrow."

"H-Huh?!" You questioned, spilling the drink you were making, "Ah! No, no-"

"It's from 7am to 2pm."

"I-I can't!" You stuttered, trying to clean the mess you made, "I-I have s-something....something important to do!"

"Well change your plans, I already told the manager that you're taking my shift, goofball." Your coworker snapped before bumping into you, "Stop fucking up the drinks!"

You were biting the inside of your cheek as you tried your best to hold back your tears. You weren't going to let your cruel coworkers ruin your chance at a better life. You weren't going to deal with them anymore after today.

You just had to finish your shift.

And never look back.

----------

You woke up early for Alchemax. Triple checked all of your paperwork and identification. This was the most prepared you were ever going to be. You had blocked your current job from calling you so they wouldn't stress you out.

You even had some time to bake a small 'thank you' cake for Miguel, if you got the chance to see him. You were truly grateful for his help in getting you here. Hopefully it won't look weird on your end. This was just your way of thanking someone.

Once you arrived, you went up to the Human Resources floor to submit your information. As you waited, you focused on the elevator and saw Lyla step out.

"Ah, there you are." Lyla chirped, approaching you.

It was night and day from when you saw her during the interview. She was much more peppy than before.

"G-Good...morning," You whispered, feeling slightly nervous as to why she was looking for you.

"Is all her paperwork done?" Lyla asked the front desk lady, "Perfect, (Y/N), grab your stuff and follow me. I'm going to show you around~"

"Oh....Thank you,"

This felt strange. As you collected all of your things, you hurried behind Lyla. She was so nice and friendly. You weren't used to this, so it was a nice change of pace.

"Now that you're officially hired with us, you'll be getting paid for your time here today. I'm going to show you around the building first, then your station. I'm sure you'll love working here~!"

----------

Miguel grunted lowly as Lyla abandoned him during an important meeting. She wanted to meet you personally, leaving Miguel to suffer with the wolves. Miguel had very little patience with these men and now it was going to get worse.

Once the meeting was over, Miguel hurried back to his office. He needed a drink. There was only so much stupid and ignorance that he could deal with. Being a CEO was difficult. The patience that Miguel had to show was honestly a talent.

"This is the cafeteria! We have a large selection of goods here,"

Miguel could hear Lyla's voice from one of this monitors. Honestly, that woman was good at testing Miguel.

"Whoa, h-how much do we have....to pay for this?"

Groaning softly as Miguel sat at his desk, he took a sip of his vodka. Your soft voice now echoed from the monitor. Miguel resisted a chuckle as he watched the two of you walk around. Lyla must have set this up, normally Miguel only watched certain interviews.

"I've been meaning to ask, what's in the little box you've been carrying?" Lyla asked you.

"A-Ah....Um...I-I wanted to say thank you to...Miguel for helping me out. Is...Is it too much? I thought....I usually bake as a thank you," Your voice was getting lower as you started to cover your face.

"Hehe," Lyla looked directly at the camera, "I'm sure he will love it."

Miguel grunted in response as he drank the rest of his liquor. Lyla was abusing the fact that you didn't know that he was the CEO. Miguel couldn't wait until you did find out. How shocked would you get? How red would those cheeks turn?

Clicking his tongue at his thoughts, Miguel decided to meet with you. After all, it would be rude for you to be waiting much longer. You had a cake to give him.

How cute.

--------

Lyla was currently showing you some of the labs. There were a lot of floors that you weren't going to be anywhere near, but Lyla said it was good to know where everything was. Honestly, Alchemax was even more impressive than you thought.

Arriving at the next floor, you gasped softly as you made eye contact with Miguel once the doors open.

"Oh, Miguel, funny to find you on the relaxing floor," Lyla said with a grin.

"I don't find it strange at all," Miguel huffed and smiled towards you, "Ah, (Y/n), right?"

"Y-Yes!" You squeaked and lowered your head, "Um...I..."

Your heart was racing. This was weird. So very, very weird. Maybe you shouldn't have baked him a cake. Maybe just a thank you card was enough? You couldn't find the courage to give him the baked good. It was too embarrassing.

"Awe!" Lyla cooed and pulled Miguel inside the elevator, "Why don't I show (Y/n) where she will be working! Miguel, come with us."

"Sure," Miguel grunted lowly.

"Ah, here!" You nervously handed Miguel the cake, avoiding his gaze, "I....I wanted to say...thank you for...for helping me with the interview! S-So, thank you!"

"You didn't have too," Miguel smiled as he took the small box, "But thank you."

Finally raising your head, you felt your cheeks burn as Miguel smiled towards you. There were butterflies in your stomach as you watched him. Miguel was so kind and handsome. You hoped that you could see him often here.

"Huh? You can smile?" Lyla mocked Miguel, causing him to grunt.

"When is your vacation again?"

It was fascinating watching the two bicker. That sweet and kind Miguel was grumbling towards Lyla. As if they had been friends for quite some time. It made you feel even better about working here.

"Here is our floor! C'mon (Y/n), let's leave the brute to himself," Lyla chuckled, grabbing your hand.

"W-Wait...Isn't this the top floor-"

"Hm? Oh, yes, you were hired to be my replacement while I'm away on vacation. You're going to be the CEO's secretary." Lyla said casually.

Your eyes widen in shock. You wanted to question Lyla, but honestly, thinking about your interview, it made sense. Lyla just smiled as she showed you her office, wanting to get you comfortable.

"S-So...I'll be working...with the CEO?" You asked softly, taking a seat on her couch, "Um...How are they?"

"Ugh, so annoying. Always uptight, always cranky, never laughs or smiles. Honestly, this change will be good for all of us. I'm sure you can get that grunting brute to loosen up. The job is pretty easy itself as you've seen during your interview."

"Mhm, will there be...anything else I have to do?"

"Not much, but I'll go over all that with more details tomorrow. Why don't we work on your schedule as of right now?"

"Okay,"

--------

Miguel waited for you to enter Lyla's office before he could enter his. He took a seat at his desk and pulled out a fork as he undid the box you gave him. Miguel raised a brow at the cake before him, it was small and a little sloppy, but the effort was there.

Taking a bite of the cake, Miguel winced at the salty taste. You did admit that you were clumsy. Swallowing, Miguel went to grab a water before seeing a small note in the box.

"If it is too salty, I'm so sorry. There is a small packet of tea that goes well with salty items...just in case." Miguel read aloud.

Finding the tea packet, Miguel scoffed softly as he got himself a glass of hot water. You were well prepared. Miguel seemed to recall you saying that you only got clumsy when nervous. Were your nerves getting to you about the job?

"Well, can't have that now," Miguel hummed, drinking the tea, "I quite like (Y/n). She'd make a fine edition to the team."

"This is the big bad CEO's office," Lyla said from outside Miguel's doors.

Miguel just smiled as he imagined you on the other side. Lyla was making him to be oh so scary. Appraoching the door, Miguel kept a calm composure as he decided to open the doors.

"Stop scaring the new girl," Miguel hummed. He watched as your eyes widen,

"Huh? Miguel? Y-You're...You're the C-CEO?"

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

Next Chapter

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[k0yaz]

HiIII i saw your wlw post and :3 :3c can I request Arlecchino with a quiet and stoic lover,, well usually stoic, but she opens up more to Arlecchino and the kids! However she gets really shy and embarrassed when expressing positive emotions or gives gifts, which is ironic bc shes also very affectionate towards her. Ik this might sound bland but giving you lots of freedom with this /w\ gl with your beidou fic!! (Love her smmm)

sweetheart.

Pairing(s): arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, established marriage, arlecchino is referred to as your husband, soft arle yayayay, reader is slightly insecure, mentions of judgy ass bitches, another proposal woah, mention of arlecchino’s real name, pure fluffy, omg lesbians wowowoow

A/N: MAAM ARE YOU AN ANGEL FOR SENDING ME THIS REQUEST. Also I know this req sounds like head canons but I couldn’t help myself I wanted to write a one shot

Blissful silence enveloped the living room space in such a way that it brought you a sort of comfort, sitting on the couch beside your beloved husband with no sound harbored between you two. You always bore a hint of stoicism in your nature, especially in your mannerisms. Expressing yourself specifically had always been a struggle for you. Many people tended to believe that you just didn’t care, or that you were coldly unfeeling.

Such presumptive pointers often circled your thoughts constantly, which you clearly had a strong distaste for. However, she had never assumed. Nor had she pushed you away for your reserved nature. Arlecchino had never let you go no matter what, that was for sure.

Arlecchino glanced up at you from her cup of tea, which barely brushed against her bottom lip as her x-marked dark eyes practically pierced into you. You simply stared back, unsure of what to say to her, before looking back down at the book in your hands at the scribbled words on the pages.

The soft clank of glass gently grazing against wood was heard once Arlecchino set her teacup down on the table. Your expression didn’t falter or bother to look up as your eyes continued gliding over the pages, completely absorbed.

Your husband never fell short when it came to showing you affection either. She would always deliver you tender kisses, combined with sweet praises whispered in your ear whenever you needed it, making your heart flutter at every little action. Her patience towards you, along with the way she blatantly showed how much cares about you, ignited a sort of small flame within you. You began to attempt to show at least a bit of emotion toward her. Hints of affection.

Simply put, you felt safe around Arlecchino. Safe enough to open up to her. Safe enough to allow those pure, warm feelings to slip through the cracks of your closed off shell in front of her. You weren’t used to expressing such emotions, resulting in yourself getting all bashful and embarrassed whenever you felt that smile curve the corners of your lips.

You almost jumped upon hearing Arlecchino abruptly call your name, now stood up and halfway across the living room. Closing your book, you gently placed it on the table and looked over at her, wondering what she called you for.

“(Name).”

“Yes, Arle?” You hummed, examining how her gaze practically traced every move you made intently. Steam from her freshly filled teacup fogged the atmosphere slightly, before disappearing as she gave a light huff to the cup carefully held by the handle between her fingers. She looked back up at you with a rather fond look in her usually cold and unfeeling eyes, taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

You cleared your throat, wanting to break the palpable tension in the air. “How are the children doing?” You began, still staring at Arlecchino’s focused expression with her teacup still in hand. “Fine. They’re currently out on a mission together, but nothing too serious nor life threatening.” She replied. After what felt like forever, Arlecchino finally set her teacup down and spoke up, seemingly able to articulate her thoughts properly.

“I was thinking that…perhaps the ring I bought you was somewhat unsatisfactory. Especially for something such as important as marriage.” She insisted, clearly wanting to keep her serious expression. Yet the faint softness present in her eyes clearly told you otherwise. Her hand lowered to her hip, to slip inside her pocket and pull out a small ring box. As she extended her palm holding up the ring box slightly toward you, you felt your heart pounding out of your chest and ringing within your own ears upon seeing her crack the box open.

Your eyes scanned over the stone on the burnished silver of the ring—it was nothing you’d seen before. A gleaming ruby with fades of black around the corners, posing a striking resemblance to Arlecchino’s eyes. A soft hue of red tints your face upon seeing the ring. Your eyes widened as you suddenly felt all warm inside and grew quiet, slightly feeling bad that you couldn’t exactly show your appreciation for the gift that made you feel all loved and fuzzy inside.

Arlecchino however, knew you all too well. The silence hanging in the was nothing but your silent appreciation for her. She proceeded to remove the ring from the cushioning of the box and reached out her free hand, prompting you to place your hand in hers. Immediately understanding her subtle gesture, you placed your hand in hers in a fluid motion.

Her nails lightly brushed along your knuckles as she wrapped her fingers around your hand, her grip gentle, yet firm. She slowly reached over to pull off the old ring on your finger and placing it in the box for convenience, before sliding the newly bought ring onto your ring finger toward the end.

It fit perfectly.

A warm, genuine smile made its way across your lips, your cheeks still flushed as well. Despite your initially bashful reaction, you finally locked your eyes with hers. A tender expression present in her eyes. You allowed your eyes to bore into hers for a few moments, staring at your husband with a loving gaze.

You began to take a few hesitant steps toward her, reaching your arms up bit by bit. Not even a few moments later, you practically threw yourself into her arms while wrapping your own around her neck in an embrace filled with adoration. Arlecchino simply exhaled a soft hum as she reciprocated your embrace. Her chin rested on your shoulder contently, her eyelids lowering in a more relaxed state.

Heat crept back up to your face upon feeling her plant a quick kiss on your forehead protectively, the affection just causing your smile to stretch a bit further near your cheeks.

“(Name). My beloved wife. My sweetheart. Just know I only want the best for you, and you only.” Arlecchino murmured in a quiet voice, as if she only wanted the two of you to hear the exchange of such sweet and sentimental words. She loved every part of you. Your stoic nature being nothing short of you caring for her. The way you reserved your affection and love for her, and her only. The way you warm up to the children as well. How you got all flustered and bashful upon experiencing any positive emotions, or when you handed her gifts with a loose grip and head turned away. She loved everything.

“Peruere?”

Arlecchino immediately fixated her attention onto your lips, caressing your cheek with her palm resting along your skin, and thumb grazing your cheek lightly. Her heart fluttered upon hearing you utter her real name. The way the name she buried behind fell from your lips like a sacred word that allowed her to lower her guard around you.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

A/N: I told yall if I like the request I get a lil too into it and cook up something ik I went overboard but idc

[satorusdiary]

Dating basketball player Eren jaeger.

Basketball player! Eren who has a necklace with your initials, filled with small diamond jewels. Not only that but you have a necklace that his initials, just so everyone knew who was yours.

Basketball player! Eren who doesn’t go to parties, which is unusual since he was the one who would attend all parties that was happening with his friends. Instead, he’s in his dorm room with you in his bed watching some scary movie you begged him to play for what it seemed like forever.

Basketball player! Eren who drives the both of you to his practices. Every day or night, whenever he has practices your coming along for sure. Just so he could see your cute smile sitting on the bleachers, whilst watching him practice to make you proud.

Basketball player! Eren who makes out with you in the hallways infront of anyone who has a crush on him. Just so he could prove to them that he’s only yours.

Basketball player! Eren who looks out for you in the crowd during a game when he makes a shot. Shooting a wink at your direction along with a cute bright smile. He always notices whenever you blow a kiss his way.

Basketball player! Eren who won’t stop bragging about you to his teammates! Whether it would be in the locker room, or in the court while their practicing for their upcoming game.

“Bro, i’m being serious. Y/N is a fucking angel. I love her soo fucking much, did you see how cute she was in my jersey?” Eren rants to his friends, being half naked with a towel covering his bottom half.

Reiner rolls his eyes, and sighs.

“yes eren, i think we know how lucky you are to have a hot girlfriend with an ass.” Reiner blurts out the last part, on accident. Now his eyes are wide.

Eren glares at Reiner.

“I know she’s hot Reiner. But if you stare at her like that i’ll fucking pull up to your neighborhood at three am, i’m not playin’ around.” Eren grunts, slamming his locker closed, sending a strong push of wind towards Reiner who watches his friend leave the locker room pissed off.

Basketball player! Eren who walks you to your classes. Always having an arm wrapped around your waist to pull you closer to him, not letting any male besides the guys he’s cool with close to you. After you both make it to your class, he kisses your forehead and your lips waving you goodbye and to have a good class.

Basketball player! Eren who has you on his lap whenever he does attend a party. Most likely he would go if you wanted to go. He’s sitting on a chair beside the pool whilst interacting with his friends, and teammates going over the next game.

Basketball player! Eren who unfollows any girl who isn’t you. This only happened because you mentioned once about how many girls he was following as a joke.

“Rennie.. why is your following count so low on instagram.” You nervously ask your boyfriend who was sitting on his desk doing his homework.

His hair was out of its bun, freely laying against his shoulders. He looked, utterly focused on his homework that would be due tomorrow.

“Jus felt like it. Why should i follow any other girl when they aren’t my pretty girlfriend?.” His smile gets brighter, sending a heartwarming feeling into your chest. Your lover for him always increasing from his actions.

You grin, walking over and sitting on his lap. Eren chuckles at the amount of kisses your pressing all over his face.

“Mwah! i love you s’muchhh.” You pressed another kiss.

Eren cups your cheek, placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

“I love you more, pretty girl so much more than you know it.

Basketball player! Eren who punches the shit out of any dude who checks you out in front of him. It gets really bad when he needs three of his friends to pull him off of the dude who decided to disrespect you. His girl.

nsfw

Basketball player! Eren who fucks you rough, just because he lost a game for the first time in so long. He has you on all fours, begging him to slow down when his big cock is jamming inside you multiple times. He had one of his hands slither down to your clit to toy with you more, making you arch your back more and cry out his name.

Basketball player! Eren who fucks you against the lockers in the changing rooms after his victory game, just to make one of the players who have a crush on you jealous that Erens the one that’s fucking you. The look on his face never fails to make Eren grin in satisfaction.

His jersey is over you, and is the only thing your wearing while your getting pounded. Your legs wrapped around Erens waist, and him pressing kisses to your cheeks muttering how much he loves you, and how much he would love to have a family with you and marry you.

After that the other player who had a crush on you never showed up to practice ever again.

Basketball player! Eren who gets head from you before a game happens. The both of you are in a small closet, with you on your knees taking Erens cock in your throat as best as you could. Eren, who is standing beside the wall, forcefully thrusting his dick inside your sweet mouth.

Basketball player! Eren who invites you inside his dorm to study, when later on your going to be sitting on his face with his mouth sucking and licking your folds.

Basketball player! Eren who sends the guys who flirt with you a photo of you on your knees giving Eren a blow job. If they manage to piss off Eren more, he ends up sending the boys your guys sex tape just so they would stop flirting with his baby.

Basketball player! Eren who stuffs you full of his cum, and uses your underwear to stop it from leaking out when the both of you are walking bath to a class you both have together. All of your classmates look at you both, noticing how messy you both looked. But they aren’t a stupid, they knew you fucked.

Basketball player! Eren who touches you inappropriately and makes out with you infront of the girls who flirt with him. Never forgetting to introduce you to them, a sad and embarrassed expression playing on their faces as they apologize to you.

“Oh, this is my beautiful girlfriend y/n. Did you she’s going to move in with me once we graduate? Not only that, but did you know she sucked my dick about.. hmm.. 12 minutes ago?” A menacing grin appears on his face.

Basketball player! Eren who cockwarms you whilst you do your homework. It doesn’t take long before you start bouncing on his dick, begging for him to cum inside you.

Basketball player! Eren who takes photos of you filled with his cum, naked with only his jersey on, and on his dick when his cum gets on your whole body. He never fails to keep the photos in his wallet, his binder, and on the mirror in his car.

Basketball player! Eren who always tells you he loves you, and always spills all of his feelings to you whenever you both are having soft, slow, loving sex just for you to feel better whenever you have a bad day.

Basketball player! Eren who makes it clear to anyone who tries interfering with his relationship that you’re his favorite girl. And that you both belong to each other. No bitch is going to ruin that.

[imfoive]

Loser Club

Jisung x Reader (fem.) Genre: High School au!/College au!, Best Friend! Jisung, Friends-to-Lovers, Love at First Sight, Romance, Angst, mutual pining Warnings: mentions of cursing, drinking, somewhat proofread WC: 9.7k A/N: I really thought I was gonna scrap this all those weeks ago, but finally the motivation struck and winter season really got me into completing it. I really hope you’ll like it as much as I enjoyed struggling with writing it 🫶 Feedback, Reblogs, Likes are greatly appreciated! Happy reading! ── MASTERLIST

──────────────────────── They say that watching the first snowfall of the year with the person you love, makes your love last forever.

A saying Han Jisung had heard on television the night before.

Just some random line from a drama his mother had been watching as he passed through the hall. Yet, for some reason, the words had lingered on his mind, and now, as he lay on the snow piled ground, they were still there, hovering through his thoughts.

The young boy stared up at the clear sky, watching the delicate snowflakes fall softly around him, his body pressed flush against the white sheets that covered the ground.

Although he wasn’t particularly attached to those words, and it wasn’t even the first snowfall of the year, Jisung found himself beginning to believe in them.

His wide eyes now focused on the girl who peered down at him, her figure bent in curiosity.

The shadow of her form that towered over him, shielded his gaze from the early morning sky, and Jisung could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

   “Are you okay?” Her voice was soft, her breath puffing in the cold air as she spoke.

The slightly stunned boy gulped, slowly sitting up. His fingers crunched through the soft snow that had cushioned his fall.

He had slipped, embarrassingly so.

But he couldn’t tell her that. Instead, he gave a lie. A desperate attempt to sound cooler than “I fell on my ass.”

   “Just taking in the morning sun.” He muttered, and instantly regretted it.

There was a pause. Jisung mentally cursed himself, while the girl blinked at him, processing his words.

Then, to his surprise, she smiled. A bright, toothy grin that made his heart skip a beat.

   “Then, have you had your fill of the morning sun, or do you want to lay back down?” Her gaze drifted to the outline of his body still imprinted in the snow where he had fallen.

The question bewildered him even more, making him laugh, a gloved hand instinctively covering his mouth to stifle the sound. He shook his head.

The girl stuffed her hands deeper into the pockets of her jacket, her eyes glancing at the school uniform he wore, peeking out from his haphazardly zipped jacket. The same uniform she had on.

   “Are you a freshman?” She asked, her voice still soft, still sweet.

Jisung found it beautiful.

He mentally chided himself again and cleared his throat.

   “Yes. I’m-I’m Han Jisung.” He stammered, suddenly feeling shy.

Her smile widened.

   “Nice to meet you, Jisung. I’m Y/N.” She took out a gloveless hand from her pocket, pointing toward the direction of their school.

   “Also a freshman.”

Then her hand extended to him, hovering between them for a shake.

   “Let’s be friends.”

Her words made his heart skip another beat. Jisung stared at her awaiting hand before he looked at her and nodded almost eagerly, a little too quick to shake her hand.

Her giggle rang out, and Jisung couldn’t help but stare at her, fascinated. Captivated.

There was another saying that suddenly flashed through his mind.

One he hadn’t believed in. One he hadn’t ever had the chance to experience.

Yet.

But today, he felt it. Right here, right now, on the first day of school.

Love at first sight.

It was an instantaneous friendship, one might say. After the entrance assembly, Jisung found himself in the same class as Y/N. His steps faltered as he entered their homeroom, spotting her already seated by the window. Her eyes lit up at the sight of him, and without hesitation, her hand shot up to wave, silently inviting him to sit next to her.

And he did.

It was the start of a friendship that, in time, Jisung would come to regret, slightly. Come to love, mostly.

They had stuck together through their freshman year, and now, as sophomores, they found themselves sitting next to each other again. Staring down at the club forms that needed to be filled out by the end of the day.

Jisung glanced over at Y/N, eyes tracing the contours of her concentrated expression, tucking back a strand of hair. A casual gesture that made his stomach flutter.

She finished scribbling something on her form, then looked up at him.

Caught off guard, he quickly blinked away, hoping she hadn’t noticed him staring.

   “You’re joining too right?” She raised a brow, eyes shooting to his blank form.

The boy next to her narrowed his gaze, glancing at her scribbles, the terrible handwriting he had surprisingly mastered to read over the past year and half.

   “Art?” He tilted his head, confused.

   “You don’t have a single artistic bone in your body.” He chuckled, pencil tapping loudly at the word she had written.

A remark that made her scoff, shoving him with her elbow, his figure swaying in his seat as he stifled a laugh.

   “So I’ll learn, stupid.” She muttered, then reached over to scribble something on his sheet before standing up to hand hers in.

Jisung leaned in to read what she had written and groaned.

Loser Club.

   “Y/N!” He muttered under his breath, watching as she made a taunting face at him, sticking her tongue out.

Immediately erasing the words, he quickly jotted down “Art”, before hurriedly following behind her.

Art Club was exactly how Jisung had pictured it. He watched his best friend struggle to draw even a decent stick figure, groaning in frustration when she couldn’t even manage a straight line with the help of a ruler.

But here was where Jisung discovered his unexpected talent. That without too much effort, he was able to draw precise shapes, straight lines and nearly perfect circles with ease. It stunned him every time, his lips forming a surprised pout as he glanced from his flawless circle to Y/N, who clapped in approval.

So, when their art teacher suggested he might want to consider a career where he could put his skill to use, Jisung quickly searched online and decided, just like that, he wanted to be an architect.

It was an anticlimactic decision, made in an instant, leaving both Y/N and their art teacher blinking at him with dumbfounded expressions.

And like that sophomore year ended.

The break between the new school years seemed to have flown by almost. And now as the best friends started school yet again, some things seemed to have changed.

Y/N had grown even prettier over the summer. And even though he saw her almost every other day during the vacation, except for the last three weeks when he visited his grandmother before school started, Y/N seemed to have blossomed almost overnight.

Her eyes sparkled as she waved at him from the front gates of the school on the first day. That same feeling he’d had the first time they met. The first time she looked down at him in the snow, washed over him again, only this time with much more intensity. It sucker-punched him straight in the chest.

It was during junior year of high school that he realized. Maybe he had unknowingly joined that Loser Club.

Because that’s when he understood. Jisung was crushing on Y/N. His best friend.

The girl who knew everything about him.

The girl who he knew everything about.

And, more painfully, knew that she didn’t like him back.

The best friends were always stuck at the hip. Like glue to paper, like gum to the bottom of a shoe.

Their classmates and teachers were never surprised to see them partner up. Eye rolls followed whenever one mentioned the other, as if they’d ever forget to take their names together. They even applied to the same college.

Then one day, a classmate asked,

   “Are you guys dating?”

Jisung stared at the taller boy, who wore glasses and tilted his head with a curious expression. They were seniors now, and Jisung wondered why this kid had decided to ask after all these years of them being inseparable.

But instead of answering, Jisung fell silent, his mind racing.

Should he tell the truth?

That he planned to confess before college started in the Fall.

That he wanted to be her boyfriend.

But the words wouldn’t come. The boy who asked groaned in frustration.

   “Why aren’t you answering?”

Jisung opened his mouth, but ultimately fell silent.

   “Why would you ask something stupid like that?”

Y/N’s voice cut through the tension, and Jisung flinched.

At the words that was worse than a rejection. Cutting deep.

Shattering the plans he’d built in his head. The imaginary dates, the dream of becoming a corny campus couple.

He thinned his lips into a smile as Y/N approached.

“Yeah. Can’t a guy and girl just be friends?” He tasted bitter with every word that came out of his mouth.

At his lie that slipped a little too easily, his attempts to mask his hurt.

Unbeknownst that Y/N’s fingers were clenched around the side of her skirt. That she had felt a sting from the moment Jisung hesitated in response to the boy’s question.

She had watched him pause, unsure of how to label their relationship, more than friends?

Or just a sibling-like bond, like someone had joked about a year ago? Putting the thought into her head ever since.

And now, it seemed the answer was clear. Just friends.

Just best friends.

And soon, the best friends were walking across the stage at graduation.

Their smiles were wide as they stood side by side, their parents snapping endless pictures after the ceremony.

   “Closer, closer—Jisung, hold the flowers between you two.” Her father instructed.

   “Y/N, your hair—fix that part. Okay, perfect” His mother gestured with a smile as she raised the camera.

Y/N grinned brightly, but Jisung’s gaze faltered on her, on the beautiful expression that made his heart tighten.

He knew he couldn’t confess today. He couldn’t tell her how much he liked her, how he wanted to be her boyfriend, to be hers.

Instead, he smiled widely, his arm slipping behind them to make a peace sign over her head as their parents snapped the photo.

High school was over, but the Loser Club seemingly persisted.

────────────────────────

   “Are you going to join any clubs?”

Y/N stared down at the flyer that one of these campus clubs’ members handed to her.

   “Taekwondo.” She read aloud, eyes scanning over the jumble of words before she looked over to Jisung.

The quiet man reached for the flyer, taking it away before she read too much into it and decided Taekwondo was something she wanted to do. He could already see her getting hurt attempting a high-kick or something.

The first semester of college had started earlier that week, and already, they were thrown into so much chaos. From the piling workload they’d already received to the extracurricular activities and clubs that seemed to be shoved down their throats, everything felt slightly overwhelming.

   “I barely have time to breathe.” He muttered with a sigh, his head shooting around all the club tents set up on this sunny afternoon.

There was a club for everyone, interests that drew them in. But truth be told, Jisung didn’t seem to find one that caught his attention. Attracted him to whatever they offered.

Especially after Y/N had begrudgingly accepted the fact that she wasn’t good at art, albeit four years too late, he didn’t feel the need to join anything else.

His eyes settled on his best friend. The girl titled her head as she took in his words, making a face in response.

Han Jisung was already in a club.

His own club, one that existed only in his mind. A club dedicated entirely to her.

A place where he could freely think of her, love her, and pine for her.

The Loser Club. The one she had unknowingly created all those years ago when she scribbled it on his form.

The Loser Club, where he was now the only member. The biggest loser, all by himself. And yet, he didn’t particularly hate it.

Around them, club representatives were calling out to freshmen, trying to recruit them into whatever they had to offer for the next four years. Their wide smiles and booming voices filled the air as Jisung and Y/N walked through the bustling scene.

   “You say that as if I have all the free time in the world.” Y/N scoffed at the words he had uttered, turning to glare at him.

Then she pointed a finger accusingly.

   “Are you trying to say being a communications major isn’t hard?”

Her dramatic leap to conclusions made him stumble in his step, before he broke into a breathy chuckle. His eyes landed on her slight pout, which only made her look even cuter. Without thinking, his hand reached out to tousle her hair, fingers combing through it just to mess it up a little.

   “It’s the hardest major out there.” He teased.

   “Even harder than Architecture—no, harder than pre-med.”

Before he could enjoy his sarcastic remark, the whacks she gave him, one for his words and another for messing up her hair, made him shout a loud “oof!” He quickly darted ahead to avoid another hit.

The two of them kept running, chasing each other.

Neither of them joined a club their freshman year.

────────────────────────

Jisung had started packing his things, the last of the students walking out of the lecture room after his professor.

He had been sitting next to his friend Lee Minho, an older guy who changed his major to architecture last semester. He had ended up befriending Jisung, who was one of the “brightest students” according to some of their professors, taking the older man under his guidance.

Though he was a good guy, he was quite smug. A attractive man who got stares from girls whenever they walked across campus together. Making Jisung wonder why he had changed his major from finance, he would have fit in so well there.

   “So your friend…” Minho’s voice had broken the silence.

Jisung froze, his fingers halting at the zipper of his backpack for a split second, before he shuts it close. Turning to face Minho.

   “What friend?”

Of course he knows who this man was referring to.

His only friend.

The one the two guys met this afternoon on their way to this class. She had stolen his bottle of juice as she and her roommate who had been with her, introduced themselves to Minho, the older man breaking into sheepish smiles as they exchanged greetings, his eyes lingering over Y/N.

His best friend.

The only one outside of this department that waltzed in and knocked on the door of the architectural studio almost every day. Bothering him at his workstation, while he attempted to get things done.

Of course he pretended to be irritated when she distracted him, of course he really wasn’t.

Just like he was pretending now. Staring at Minho with the most confused expression he could put on.

Minho hesitated for a moment, watching Jisung blink back at him

   “C’mon man. Your pretty friend. Y/N.”

Jisung’s breath caught in his throat, his heart suddenly pounding against his ribs. He prayed that Minho was simply asking about her health or something innocent like that.

But of course, that wasn’t it.

   “Is she single?”

The question settled between them as Jisung processed it, his eyes blinking a few times, staring at Minho’s awaiting gaze.

He wanted to shove this man out of his chair.

He wanted to tell him that Y/N wasn’t single. She was, but not for him.

She would never be single, no matter who asked.

He wanted to swat away any potential suitors as swiftly as he could, as many times as he needed.

Y/N was pretty. A fact he had known since he was a freshman in high school. A painstaking fact that made him simmer in jealousy and bitterness whenever she got the attention of other wandering eyes.

And now his friend. This handsome hunk, this jackass that she had commented was cute before they parted ways earlier that afternoon, was asking about the same pretty Y/N.

His best friend, who was single. Had been single ever since he’d known her.

A fact he couldn’t lie about, even if he wanted to. Because he didn’t want her to miss out on the experiences of youth she claimed to want as they spoke about college that one evening, back in their senior year of high school.

His heart was not letting him lie, just because he was a loser who could never confess.

Instead of shoving Minho out of his seat, Jisung stood. Looking down at the guy who stared up at him slightly stunned, slightly confused.

   “She…she is...” He finally voiced out.

He watched as the seated man’s lips thinned into a grin, before he’s cheesing with a smile. One of the widest ones Jisung had seen. And suddenly he regretted it, clutching at his backpack as tightly as he could to calm himself down.

   “Good to know. Thanks!” Minho stood as well, grabbing his things before turning to the shorter man.

   “She’s visiting the studio later right?” He faltered at the door, turning to find a still Jisung rooted to his spot.

   “I don’t know.”

It was a lie.

She was going to visit later. Because Jisung would be at his workstation, and she absolutely loved wracking his brain, hushed mutters and grabby fingers touching all his materials as he attempted to work.

Even if he wasn’t particularly paying any attention to her. She still showed up. Pulling up a chair to oversee whatever he worked on as if she understood what he was doing.

He’d pretend like she was in the way. Often putting her to use by making her cut and score the board materials he was going to use in his 3D model.

And on days when he was really concentrated, really busy, she would pull out her own work, opening her textbook at the little corner of the table Jisung always left empty for her to scatter her things.

Minho let out a “hmmm” before he clicked his tongue.

   “I guess we’ll see in the evening. See you then.” He waved, his figure disappearing out the door of the lecture hall.

The rest of Jisung’s day had seemed to have gone in a blur. His mind slightly dazed, slightly distracted.

Then he received a text from her.

His pretty friend.

The one who was single. The one he was in love with. Too much of a coward to cross that almost forbidden line.

It was a casual text, asking him if he planned to “drown in his miseries after classes to work on his next project.”

It was her way of saying she would stop by. That she was probably going to bring him something quick to eat before he drifted into his frustrations.

Jisung found himself typing.

   Too busy. Don’t come please.

Then he waited, his legs slightly bouncing up and down as he stared at the screen.

He had never told her not to show up. Never used proper punctuation in their messages, something he looked back at with dread.

But to his surprise, she responded with an emoji. A thumbs up. Followed by properly punctuated messages. Mirroring his.

   Okay loser. Don’t overdo it.

It should have made him feel less anxious. That he had avoided her running into Minho later. But he felt shitty. For pulling such a stunt when he had basically told Minho to pursue her.

Sure he didn’t really tell that handsome friend of his to “go for it”, but he didn’t stop him either.

He didn’t put an end to whatever interests sparked in the older man’s eyes. He should have.

But Jisung was a coward.

And now he was stewing in guilt, in irritation. In his own pitiful situation.

   “—Hello, earth to loser!” Y/N exclaimed, fingers taking out the headphones that were in Jisung’s ears.

The seated boy looked up from his workstation, at his best friend who leaned against the edge of his desk, towering over his form.

Startled eyes taking in her sudden presence here.

Surprised that she was here. Even after she said she wouldn’t come.

   “How much longer?” She groaned, eyes glossing over his sketch pad, at the poor eraser that was much shorter than she saw the day before, its savings scattered to a designated corner.

The seated man’s eyes darted around the studio. At the empty workstations he swore he saw a few others working at, Minho working at. Only to find them empty. Then his brows furrowed as he glanced out the large glass windows.

The sun had set long, and he realized that he had been holed up here longer than usual. Until he was the last one left behind.

He had told her not to come today, and surprisingly she listened.

For the most part. Because she was here now, looking at him with her head tilted.

   “Sheesh, you really were busy huh?” Her eyes were back on his sketches, on the model he had started working on, trying to make heads or tails of it.

   “What is taking so long?” She muttered at the sight of it all, making her feel dumber by the moment as she stood straight.

   “I’ve texted you a hundred times.”

Her quiet best friend glanced at his phone.

   “…Ah, I muted notifications. Sorry about that.”

Y/N sensed something was off. Her eyes squinted as his explanation came a little too easily. At his wary gaze that kept looking towards the studio doors.

   “Let’s get something to eat, you’re clearly hungry.” She chalked it up to just that, sure he wouldn’t have even told her what seemed to bother him even if she pressed.

Maybe she would pull it out of him over food. Y/N doesn’t wait for his response, already grabbing his phone, his headphones and then stuffing them in his bag.

Jisung mirrored. Grabbing the things he needed before tidying his equipment. Leaving his model for the next day. The computer screen he had opened with the blueprint was powered off quickly.

The corridor outside the studio was mostly empty now, with only one or two students lingering in the lounge, absorbed in their laptops. Jisung grabbed his bag from Y/N, pulling the straps over his shoulders. Before he could ask what she wanted to eat, a voice calling his name made him freeze.

His hands stalled on his backpack straps, too afraid to turn around and face Minho.

The older man, one of the students who had been sitting in the lounge, looked surprised to see Y/N.

   “Hi, Y/N. Good to see you again.” Minho smiled, an awkward hand brushing the back of his neck before his gaze shifted to the suddenly tense Jisung.

   “Oh, hi.” Y/N’s voice was sweet and polite, the words pleasant, but they pricked at Jisung’s nerves.

Words that shouldn’t have had that effect, yet still did. Especially knowing that Minho was looking at her the same way he did.

Jisung watched as a smile spread across Y/N’s lips, her eyes fixed on the older man.

   “Are you leaving for the day?” Minho asked, though his gaze seemed to linger a little too long on Y/N.

Jisung struggled to find words, instead opting to nod as he cleared his throat, hoping it would make him speak.

   “We’re grabbing something to eat.” Y/N cut in, her eyes shifting from Jisung to Minho.

   “You should join us if you haven’t eaten yet.”

The invitation was polite, but Jisung could hear the overt sweetness in her tone. The kind that came from habit, a well-worn courtesy. He knew it well.

But still, it stung.

   “Ah! Could I? I haven’t eaten yet.” Minho’s grin widened, and he exchanged a knowing look with Jisung, who shot a sharp glance back.

Minho had devoured a burger only an hour ago in the studio, a sight Jisung had witnessed from his desk.

Y/N’s hand gently gripped his forearm, pulling him from his thoughts. But Jisung couldn’t tear his eyes away from Minho’s gaze. There was something pleading in it.

Unspoken words in the way he looked at her.

The kind of look guys gave their friends when they wanted alone time with a girl.

And Minho’s gaze screamed just that. He wanted time alone with her.

Jisung swallowed hard, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

   “Oh. I forgot. I can’t go.” He lied, the words coming out too quickly, and Y/N frowned, confused.

Minho raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a subtle smile as Jisung played his part.

   “What do you mean, can’t go?”

   “I have to submit something. I—You two have fun.” Jisung forced a smile, the first one she’d seen from him all evening, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

   “Suddenly?” She pressed, her grip tightening on his arm.

Jisung opened his mouth, perhaps to offer another excuse, but Minho cut in smoothly, his brows raised in mock surprise.

   “You didn’t submit Professor Kim’s physics assignment yet?”

Another lie. A good one, though. One that would clear the way for Minho to take Y/N to dinner.

Get her number. Share stories. Laugh.

Maybe things would go so well that Minho would walk her back to the dorms. Maybe they’d do it again. And again. Until Minho asked her out, until they’re walking around campus holding hands, grins plastered on their faces.

The scenarios piled up in Jisung’s mind, overwhelming him. His hands tightened on his backpack straps, trying to ground himself.

Y/N’s hand slipped away from his arm, her gaze flicking between him and Minho before she nodded, accepting their lies.

   “Are you sure you can’t spare even ten minutes to eat something?” His best friend’s voice softened, her eyes waiting for Jisung’s response, hoping he’d join them.

That he wouldn’t leave her alone with Minho.

But Jisung didn’t respond in the way she wanted. He shook his head, a silent “no.”

Y/N hesitated, then turned and walked ahead. Minho flashed Jisung a wide grin, raising a hand in a subtle thumbs-up before following her. Jisung stood frozen, clutching his backpack, rooted to the spot.

And that’s how it started.

The lies. The strained smiles. The excuses that always left her alone with Lee Minho.

The distance.

Her best friend had begun to pull away, convincing himself she needed to focus on a love life.

A love life she had confessed to wanting every time they drank a little too much, a little too openly, her desires spilling out, vulnerable and raw.

He remembered every word, it seemed. Yet he couldn’t see that everything she had wanted, all of it, was with him.

The feelings. The desires.

The love life she had dreamed of.

She wanted it with her best friend. The same one who was now distancing himself from her.

It was so obvious.

Han Jisung may have been a smartass, a genius, but when it came to lying to his best friend, he was shit at it. He couldn’t even fool her. Especially not now, when every word felt like another betrayal.

And every time she found herself alone with Lee Minho, that painful sting in her chest grew sharper. The two of them would sit together, laughing over dinner, or coincidentally bump into each other on their way to class, while Jisung gave every excuse under the sun to avoid them.

   “That fucker.” Y/N’s roommate muttered, watching as Y/N wiped away another tear.

   “Don’t call him that, Yura.” Y/N sniffled, her voice weak, though she still managed to shoot the girl next to her a defensive glare.

Yura, her roommate since freshman year, had figured out everything about Y/N’s feelings for Jisung long before Y/N had fully admitted them to her, herself. In fact, she had mistaken Jisung for her boyfriend during the first week after moving into the dorms. The way Y/N and Jisung interacted was so comfortable, so effortlessly entangled, that it seemed impossible they weren’t a couple. Their constant bickering, their casual closeness.

All spoke of something deeper.

So, when she eventually found out they weren’t together, she stared at them in shock, awkwardly clearing her throat as she pretended she hadn’t made such a blunder.

   “How can he be so blind?” Yura’s voice was incredulous, shaking her head.

Each time she thought about it, it only made less sense.

Yura didn’t know Jisung the way Y/N did, but even she could see it. The way they looked at each other, the things they said, the way they felt. But Y/N wouldn’t believe any of it, not unless Jisung himself said it out loud.

Maybe she too was a fool. A coward afraid to cross a line.

   “How can someone be so good at studies, but so bad at picking up context clues?” Yura muttered, handing Y/N another tissue that she accepted it numbly, wiping her eyes.

Yura paused, thinking for a moment, and then a mischievous smile curled at the corners of her lips.

   “Let’s try something.”

Y/N blinked at her, unsure of what was coming next, suddenly slightly worried.

────────────────────────

Han Jisung stared at Yura, who had cornered him in the library. The shorter girl had her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at him with a look that was hard to miss.

He wasn’t particularly close to Y/N’s roommate. He’d only seen her at both her and his best friend’s suite. Or at events that both of the roommates attended together, the ones Y/N dragged him along to.

But one thing was clear, Yura and Y/N were close. And sometimes it felt like this roommate of hers was gunning for the title of her “best friend,” although Jisung was sure she could never overtake him.

Lately however, it felt as if she could easily take that title.

With the way Jisung had been acting, distant, avoiding. Made him wonder if he could even call himself Y/N’s best friend anymore.

   “I’m hosting a party.” Yura said, breaking the silence as she reached into her bag, pulling out a makeshift invitation that looked hastily thrown together.

   “I thought you were a marketing major?” Jisung couldn’t help but judge as he took the crumpled invitation from her.

   “I’m in marketing, not design.” Yura groaned, crossing her arms again, returning to her defensive stance.

Jisung wasn’t that clueless. He knew his behavior had caught this aggressive roommate’s attention. Thus, her behavior here made sense. At least she wasn’t completely hostile.

   “Don’t even think about saying you can’t come. I swear, I’ll fight you if you do, Jisung.” Her words were sharp, preempting any excuses he might throw her way.

Jisung inhaled deeply, forcing himself to stay calm.

   “What are you celebrating?” He asked, glancing at the invitation, which only had a date, time, and location.

Some snowflakes and clipart balloons dotted the page.

Truly a horrendous design.

   “Winter.” Yura said with a grin, her arms still crossed.

   “Winter?” Jisung repeated, clearly confused.

What was so special about this cold, miserable weather? Besides the snowflakes that caught your eyes ever one in a while maybe, nothing else about it was tolerable.

Yura nodded enthusiastically.

   “Yep. Winter. A reminder that the semester is finally coming to an end. Always worth celebrating.”

Jisung snorted, unable to suppress a laugh at her ridiculous reasoning.

   “Right. Winter. The end of classes, the start of finals.” He countered, words that earn him another sharp glare from Yura.

   “And that’s exactly why we’re having a party before we all drown in our miseries—God, Jisung, just be there. I have more invitations to hand out.” She groaned again, as if talking to him was the biggest inconvenience.

With a resigned sigh, Jisung finally gave in. He agreed to attend this “celebration of winter”. A party he was pretty sure he didn’t care about.

But he knew Y/N would be there. She’d always be there, supporting her friends. Something he was clearly not doing well.

What he didn’t expect, though, was to see Lee Minho.

Jisung blinked, his gaze snapping to the older man standing next to Y/N as they entered the private room reserved for Yura’s get-together.

He had arrived early, and seeing them walk in together, side by side, hit him harder than he’d expected.

Minho immediately approached him, going in for a greeting handshake, his eyes flicking between the best friends in a clueless, almost innocent way.

   “What are you doing here?” The words slipped from the younger man’s lips before he could stop them.

Minho’s smile widened.

   “Y/N invited me.” He chuckled.

But before he could add anything else, the door to the private room opened again.

Yura and three other friends entered, all familiar faces Jisung had recognized from previous gatherings. The room instantly filled with chatter as Yura shot a glance between the three of them, leaning toward Y/N, her eyes lingering on Minho’s handsome face. The one she’d only gotten a quick glimpse of when they’d bumped into the two architecture students on campus those weeks ago.

Conversations flowed casually. Somehow, Jisung ended up at the far end of the table, separated from Y/N. His best friend had tried to sit next to him, but Minho had already pulled out the chair beside him, and Y/N had politely slid into it.

Jisung felt a bitter twinge rise in his chest. He took a sip of water, trying to wash it away, but the taste lingered.

Small talk filled the space around him as more people trickled in. The food started arriving, and the room grew hotter with bodies and chatter. Jisung found himself retreating into the leather of his seat, trying to block out the noise.

His eyes, however, betrayed him. They kept darting back to Y/N and Minho. The two of them were talking and laughing, looking like they belonged together.

Jisung gulped, watching as Minho casually slipped off his cardigan and draped it over Y/N’s shoulders. The gesture was small but somehow enough to spark a flare of anger inside him.

He opted to take a sip of his beer this time, trying to numb the growing frustration. But his eyes still lingered on them, drawn to the sight of his best friend, now so at ease with the guy who was clearly interested in her.

And Jisung hated it.

He took another sip of beer, trying to keep the storm inside him under control.

The evening stretched on, the so-called celebration of Winter, a concept Yura had romanticized, seemed to elude Y/N’s best friend, who suddenly seemed to despise everything about the party. Jisung’s gaze flicked to the cardigan that still hung over Y/N’s shoulders, the fabric draping gracefully over her figure.

She hadn’t even spared him a single glance.

His head dropped, eyes fixed on the tall glass of beer in front of him, pitying himself.

Wasn’t this what he had wanted?

For Y/N to find someone who wasn’t afraid to show how much he wanted to be with her?

For her to have lunch with him, go to dinner, or even just bump into him on campus so he could walk her to class?

A love life. The kind she’d always dreamed of.

Jisung’s thoughts shifted, twisting into a painful knot as he recalled his own desires. The ones he had shoved deep into some corner of his chest after she had practically made it clear she didn’t see him as anything more than a friend.

The plans he had, to tell her how he felt. The confession he had rehearsed over and over in his mind, wanting to say how much he longed for her. The fantasy of becoming the cringey campus couple everyone talked about.

Jisung inhaled sharply, the weight of his own thoughts suffocating him. His eyes glazed over the empty mugs of beer he had unknowingly downed while drowning in his pathetic self-loathing.

He couldn’t stay any longer.

Slowly, he slipped out of the room, his footsteps almost silent as he retreated from the crowd, from Y/N, from everything.

   “Well, it seems to be working.” Minho muttered, his gaze sweeping over Jisung at the other end of the table, his younger friend, who appeared lost in his own world.

Y/N glanced between her dazed best friend, a tinge of hurt crossing her expression, before turning back to Minho, who grinned at her.

Han Jisung’s best friend had come clean to him.

About how much she pined for the clueless architect major. The one who was the brightest of their department but terrible at reading her feelings, all the hints she had given him.

Y/N had drawn a line the moment Minho asked if she was okay with him pursuing her.

Sure, it stung a bit, being rejected so easily, so quickly, by a pretty girl.

But it made sense. For Y/N to be in love with Jisung, her best friend, who clearly felt the same but was too afraid to admit it.

And once Minho realized it, he was shocked by how he had missed it. He scolded himself for foolishly asking the man who was in love with her to help set him up.

He felt terrible. So when her roommate had somehow gotten ahold of his number, and had texted him, deviously laying out a ruse to make one of them admit their feelings, he was all in.

   “Project Jealousy”, Yura called it, a name that still made him chuckle. Yet, he knew he played the biggest part.

Throughout the evening, Minho had been doing everything he could to get Jisung’s attention. Gestures, subtle touches, lingering glances. Anything to get a reaction.

He did feel a twinge of guilt. On top of it all, keeping even Y/N in the dark felt wrong.

And after he draped his cardigan over her, she frowned at him, leaning in to tell him she had already made it clear she wasn’t interested in going out with him.

So, he came clean. He watched as Y/N’s eyes grew wide, darting from him to Yura, who suddenly refused to meet her gaze.

   “Don’t worry. He likes you, that I can confidently say.” Minho whispered to her in assurance.

The sight of Jisung drowning in his misery suddenly became a little amusing, and Minho made it his mission to get them together tonight.

He’d lock them in a room together if all else failed.

And when Y/N’s eyes followed Jisung as he slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, she turned to find Minho’s surprised gaze, blinking at the now-closed door. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that.

Panic surged through Y/N. Her eyes scanned the empty beer glasses Jisung had left behind, the sight of which only fueled her frustration and anger.

   “Go.” Minho urged gently, grabbing the cardigan she had forgotten about, which had already been slipping off her shoulders.

Jisung watched the snowflakes fluttering through the air. His gaze raking over the dark sight above him.

It was the first snowfall of the year. Yet here he stood, alone.

His eyes followed the flecks of ice drifting down from the night sky, disappearing into nothingness as it touched the ground, the fabric of his jacket, his hot skin.

His breath was visible in the cold air, fading almost instantly with every sigh he let out. He still felt flush out here in the cold, the evening winter breeze slightly biting, even if the flurries weren’t as severe.

He knew he overdid it, had more than he usually would before deciding he was done drinking. But he couldn't help it. Not when, all evening, he watched Minho leaning into Y/N, the older man’s lips parted in toothy grins as he whispered something into her ear, causing her to look back with an wide-eyed expression.

Jisung could tell she had gasped at whatever nonsense Minho had said. But that shock quickly turned to amusement, and she covered her mouth, stifling a laugh behind her fingers.

It was nonsense, he was sure of it.

And even though he was across the table, surrounded by the loud chatter of others, the clattering of utensils ringing in his ears, Jisung’s eyes kept finding their way back to her and Minho.

He took a sip of his beer. Another. One more. By the time he realized his head was spinning and his chest felt tight, he knew he had exceeded his limit.

He cursed under his breath.

And now, standing outside the restaurant, beneath the cold streetlights, he let the cool air settle over him, trying to calm the dizziness and the thumping of his erratic heartbeat. He sighed, trying to wash away the bitterness that lingered on his tongue.

From the beer, from the sight he had watched all evening.

He dropped his head back, leaning against the lamppost, shoving his hands deep into his sweater pockets. His eyes focused on the snow gathering on the ground, watching the snow pile, his eyes glued to his sneakers.

Then he saw the shadow. A figure approaching, standing just inches from him. His eyes settled on the familiar sight of the same matching sneakers on their feet just inches from his.

His eyes lifted to meet hers, staring back at Y/N who looked at him, her expression laced with a slight concern, a slight of something else.

Han Jisung didn’t think anyone would have noticed his absence. Especially not Y/N, his best friend who seemed to be busy entertaining Lee Minho. But here she was now, the only one who had followed behind him it seemed.

Or maybe she had come out with Minho, and seeing him here standing by himself like a sore loser, she came over.

Jisung’s head turned to look for the mentioned man, for the familiar sight of his cardigan that had once slung over Y/N.

   “What’re you doing out here?” Her voice was soft but tinged with concern, her teeth chattering slightly against the chill settling around them.

Maybe she should’ve kept on the thing. Minho’s cardigan.

A thought that made Jisung furrow his brows with irritation.

   “It’s cold.” He muttered instead, as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing.

She tilted her head, awaiting for him to continue speaking.

He sighed, his head lolling back against the lamppost as he watched her, taking in the sight of her arms crossed tightly against her chest, a poor attempt to keep warm. The silence stretched on for a few seconds before Y/N sighed, breaking the silence.

   “You’re drunk aren’t you?”

Her hand naturally extended, palms resting against his face, fingers gently brushing against his skin to feel the warmth. The red flush of alcohol that seemed to color him.

Jisung hated it.

These touches.

The ones she so casually gave out, as if they meant nothing.

And suddenly he pictured her doing the same to Lee Minho.

The bitterness in his mouth seemed to grow stronger.

He jerked his head away from her touch, pushing her hand away slowly.

   “I’m not drunk.” His tone was a little sharper than intended.

Y/N blinked, slightly stunned by his reaction, something out of character for Han Jisung.

   “Head back inside. It’s cold.” His voice was quieter now, though it still carried a slight edge. The snow was falling faster, the air growing heavier.

Y/N crossed her arms again, but before she could retort with something sharp, Jisung spoke again, his gaze drifting toward the restaurant.

   “Minho is probably waiting for you.”

The words landed heavily between them.

And just like that, Y/N understood.

That the whole evening he was sulking in his corner, was because she was sitting next to Lee Minho.

That she was keeping him company as his seatmate, and her best friend didn’t seem to like it.

That Jisung was downing drinks, three pints from what she counted, because he was…jealous.

Just like Yura and Minho had wanted him to feel.

But Y/N wanted to tell him off.

Get angry at him for acting like this when he was the one that pushed her to Lee Minho’s side.

She wanted to berate him, wag a finger and ask why he was upset when he’s been playing wingman for weeks.

But she doesn’t say any of that.

Instead she sighed out loud once again. Her heart beating rapidly at the confirmation of his conflictions, at the feelings he still refused to admit.

Without another word, Y/N turned on her heels, her figure receding into the distance as she walked back inside.

Jisung stared at the footprints her sneakers left behind, on the concrete that already had a sheet of snow laying over. His lips part to let out a laugh. A pathetic sound under the light of the street lamp.

A few more minutes passed. And before Jisung decided he had enough fresh air, feeling rather cold now, before he made the choice to leave alone, his gaze once again faltered at her figure that approached.

This time staring wide at her approaching figure.

He didn’t think she would be back.

Didn’t think that she would be in her coat, throwing his padded jacket over him, already zipping it up.

   “Pain in the ass.” She muttered as she did so.

Then her narrowed gaze settled on him. His stunned expression relaxed as he processed the situation.

As he realized that she wasn’t going back inside, that she didn’t intend to linger behind.

That she didn’t care about Lee Minho or whatever nonsense he blabbered.

   “Let’s go.”

Her hand naturally reached down to find his, taking his wrist in her grip before tugging him along. The snow had piled up, slick and slippery beneath their sneakers, but she kept pulling him along, her hand now firmly wrapped around his as she led the way.

Jisung didn’t question where they were going. He wasn’t even sure if he cared. His eyes were fixed on the back of her figure as he followed, lost in the steady rhythm of her steps. The world around him seemed muted, the snow falling heavily now, but his focus remained on her.

It wasn’t until they reached the slope back to campus that Jisung finally returned from his thoughts.

Rather, he stumbled back to reality, slipping on the fresh snow that had piled up a good inch or so.

Before he could regain his balance, he tumbled into her, and the two of them crashed to the ground with loud groans and grunts as they hit the cold earth. The snow-covered grass offered little cushion, and their bodies slid together in an awkward heap.

As the initial shock wore off, Y/N groaned, sitting up slowly, her gaze falling on Jisung, still lying beside her. His eyes fluttered open, staring at the sky, cheeks flushed and the tip of his nose bright red from the cold. The snow continued to fall around them, some of it melting against his skin, leaving damp spots on his face and jacket.

He didn’t move. He just stared at the sky, the night dark and quiet around them, the chill stinging his cheeks.

And finally, finally Jisung had mustered up some courage.

   “I don’t want you to date him.”

The thoughts left his mouth in a low murmur, quiet but heavy. Thoughts that had clouded his mind ever since Minho had asked about her.

Ever since he lied, pretended that it didn’t bother him everytime he pushed her toward some other guy.

Finally spoken into words.

His confession made her stare down at him with wide eyes, darting between his gaze that remained on the white specks floating in the air. Too scared to face the kind of expression she made.

   “Why…” Her response was equally as quiet, a kind of whisper he hadn’t heard from her before.

The tense man opened his mouth, then fell silent.

How would he explain it?

The turmoil, the feelings.

The fact that he had been in love with her since the moment he saw her.

How could he jeopardize what they had now? A beautiful friendship that he never wanted to lose, never could imagine living without.

He wanted to tell her, he wanted to scream it out into the night.

But he was a coward.

Like he had been back then.

Like he was going to be now. His mouth closed, deciding to remain quiet.

He could hear her inhale sharply. A low mutter of something, a curse perhaps, before she glared down at him. A hot gaze he could feel burning into him.

   “Because you were jealous.”

The words came out, firm and certain. A statement, rather than a question.

Ones that make his eyes shoot to her, finally getting a proper look at her expression. At the irritated furrow of her brows, an unreadable glint in her gaze as she peered down at him, speaking nothing but the truth.

She ran her fingers through her hair, which was now wet from the melted snow, the icy strands slicking back against her scalp. Her face was still flushed from the cold, her eyes narrowed at him with something sharp, but there was a hint of something softer there too.

   “Are you sober?” Y/N’s voice cut through the silence.

Jisung blinked at her, bewildered by the question, his eyes wide as he stared up at her. Then, his lips tugged into that confused pout she had always hated, a sight that made her heart clench because of how adorable she found it.

He didn’t trust his voice, so instead he nodded.

   “Good.”

It took Jisung a moment to fully register what was happening.

The soft press of her lips against his was searing hot. A sharp contrast to the coldness around them, damp with the snow that had melted against his skin.

His eyes widened in shock, his mind reeling as he fully realized that she was kissing him.

Her lips felt soft and plush, moving gently against his.

And just like the snowflakes that dotted their skin, Jisung felt himself melt instantly. Into the kiss. Into her cold fingers that cradled his jaw, guiding him closer, pressing herself into him, deepening the kiss.

Driving him crazy.

Jisung wished it could be a moment that would last forever. But, alas, she pulled away. The tip of her nose was redder than before, from being pressed against his, and her breath came out in heavier puffs, fogging up the chilly air between them.

He swallowed hard, staring at her, frozen in place. He was afraid to move, afraid to sit up, afraid to kiss her properly. Most of all, he was terrified that she might slap a hand over her mouth, her face contorting into disgust, her eyes wide with regret.

Afraid she was going to tell him she hadn’t meant to kiss him at all.

   “You don’t want me to be with him. You want me to be with you.”

Her words cut through the chaos in his mind, shattering the doubts that had clouded his thoughts.

His gaze flickered between her eyes, trying to piece together what she was saying. It was a painfully true statement, and he wondered when she had figured it out.

When she had caught on.

To his lingering gazes, his almost forbidden thoughts.

Maybe he didn’t hide his jealousy as well as he thought.

   “Tell me. That you want me to be with you. That you want me too. I-I need to hear it, Jisung. Out loud.”

Y/N sat upright, her eyes boring into his, gleaming with a sudden anxiety that made his breath hitch.

She was asking for a sincere confession.

Something to ground her. To give her a validation, long overdue. To not have to guess whether his touches were just friendly or charged with something else.

If his intent gazes that she often caught him staring with, meant more than he claimed.

That he was hers.

And seeing that flicker of anxiety in her gaze, that fear of uncertainty, had Jisung scrambling to sit up.

The snow that had settled over his body scattered like dust. His hands moved instinctively, reaching for hers, fingers trembling as he took them in his.

   “I-I want you—I want you to be with me. I was jealous.” The words spilled from him, loud and raw, falling from his lips without hesitation.

Something desperate that he couldn’t hide.

His tone, tinged with eagerness.

It sounded like the first time she had asked him to be her friend. How he had eagerly nodded, his hand shaking hers instantly.

A response that she couldn’t help but break into a grin at. Both his confession and his suddenly awkward form, sitting on his knees soothing that prick that had been lingering in her heart, made this moment sweeter.

His hands, warming hers.

   “Good.” The word came out in a whispered repeat.

Her hands slipped from his, reaching for the material of his jacket. She tugged him toward her, pulling him into a kiss. A real kiss.

A proper kiss.

The kind that Jisung returned with equal fervor, his hands trailing over her face before sliding to the warmth of her neck, pulling her in closer. His cold fingers made her shiver, excitement buzzing in her veins as she parted her lips, desperate to deepen their entanglement.

And she did, their mouths working together in a way that made minds reel. Until, after what felt like forever, yet still not long enough, Jisung pulled away.

His breath came out in ragged gasps, his hands still cradling her neck, fingers entangled in her hair. He had been sitting up on his knees, his jeans wet, and cold. Yet all he felt was his skin burning, the feel of her against him, driving him crazy.

Jisung dropped his head in attempts to calm himself, closed eyes processing the whirlwind of emotions, taking deep, steadying breaths before looking back at her.

Her face was flushed, lips swollen from their kiss, wide eyes staring back at his equally flushed expression. Her lips still wet from their kiss. Her gaze awaited.

He gulped, his mouth parting as he finally grounded himself.

   “Yo-you can’t take it back.” He stammered almost, his serious gaze boring into her soul, searching for certainty.

   “You’re mine.” His tone softened to a whisper, a quiet confession that had been building inside him for far too long, finally free after being locked away in that tiny corner of his heart.

Her brows relax, gentle eyes trailing over his expression before she smiled.

   “I’ve always been yours, loser.” Y/N murmured, her voice teasing yet full of warmth, before leaning in to kiss him again.

Something she decided was the most amazing feeling in the world, something she realized she could not get enough of.

The Loser Club had been a two-member group from the start.

────────────────────────

The first days of school had always been intimidating. Especially the first day of high school.

A new school. A new environment. New faces.

For Y/N, the nerves hit harder. She had moved to this town the summer after middle school, knowing absolutely no one. She hadn’t gone to school here before, and the unknowns felt heavy on her chest.

She stood on the sidewalk, staring at the winter sky. The sun had peeked through the early morning haze, casting a pale light across the world, but the air was still bitterly cold.

Y/N shoved her hands deeper into her coat pockets, trying to keep the chill from her fingers. The snow had piled up overnight, crunching under her shoes as she walked. She kicked at it absently as she neared the school, her heart pounding in her chest.

The streets were empty, quiet. The early morning stillness before everyone else began to rush to class. She glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar route, wondering how many times she would walk it in the next few years.

Then, her steps faltered. Her gaze locked onto a figure ahead.

A boy had slipped on the icy ground, his arms flailing as he tried to regain balance before falling backward.

The thud of his body hitting the soft snow was loud in the stillness of the morning. A sound that made Y/N’s gasp, her hand instinctively reaching out, as if she could somehow help from a distance.

But as she continued to watch, her confusion deepened.

The boy didn’t seem to be in any hurry to get up. He just lay there, staring up at the sky as if he had all the time in the world. He didn’t even attempt to move, just blinking slowly, watching the snowflakes drifting down from above.

Y/N’s gaze followed his, lifting her eyes to the delicate white specks falling through the sky. It was a beautiful, calming moment, one that suddenly eased the tightness in her chest in a way she hadn’t expected.

The boy remained where he was, eyes still fixed on the sky, unbothered by the cold or the snow around him.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she walked closer. The snow crunched under her feet as she approached, her figure casting a shadow over him.

She tilted her head, studying him.

He was cute, she thought.

Suddenly, the boy blinked, his eyes widening as he looked up at her, startled. His mouth parted in surprise.

Her brows furrowed slightly in amusement.

   “Are you okay?”

Jisung’s eyes grew even wider, and for a brief, breathless moment, something shifted between them.

A flutter. An inexplicable pull.

That feeling. The one that surged in their chests at the same time it seemed.

Love at first sight. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ end.

[paigebuckets6]

Celebrating All Night

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Genre: Dating, smut

Summary: After a big win, Paige and you have a fun night out to celebrate

Warnings: Smut with plot! Praise, degradation, strap, fingering, going down, aftercare afterwards

It was no secret that Paige loved partying...

Just not as much as she loved you.

After wins, it was a common occurrence to see her and the rest of the Uconn team celebrating at a nearby bar or club. Tonight had been a huge game, Uconn winning by a landslide, and you'd wanted nothing more than to spend an evening partying with your girlfriend.

You were sitting with the team, drinking a Shirley Temple as Paige took shots with KK and Aubrey.

You could tell Paige was getting a little tipsy, but she held her liquor well, so you let her continue on.

Ice was on live, reading out comments.

"Where's Paige? Uhhh-"

You laugh at Ice's look of surprise and then mild disgust when she twists in her chair to look for Paige and the woman herself drapes her arm around her.

"Heyyyy guys!"

Paige rizzes the camera, rubbing her hands together and biting her lip, smiling wide as the comments go wild. She then dances out of view, taking another shot.

The music of the club is loud, and they're playing all the bangers tonight. You feel like dancing, so you get up from your seat.

"Paige- wanna dance?"

Paige looks at you, towering over you by a few inches. She's wearing a tight-fitting white crop top, abs on full display, and grey cargo pants, with the band of her boxers peeking out. Her cheeks are flushed, from the alcohol, you, or both.

You fumble for her belt loops in order to get her to move, and you laugh when she raises her hands and goes,

"Woahhh Ma, not in public-"

You blush, and she smirks at you.

Paige grabs the belt loops of your jeans, snapping you flush against her hips.

"Come on y/n, lets dance" She whispers into your ear, grabbing your hand, leading you into the crowd.

The lights are going crazy, the bass even louder here. Everyone's dancing, bodies and exposed skin brushing each other.

You laugh as she tries to tell you a stupid joke over the music cause you can't hear a damn thing, but she looks so cute.

Another song comes on, and Paige pulls you against her. Her hands run up and down your sides, lingering on your ass, squeezing lightly.

You want to kiss her so badly, eyes roving over the plushness of her bottom lip. Her eyes are a vivid blue, even in the flashing lights of the club, dark with desire. Her gaze focuses on your lips as well but she knows she can't kiss you either- not here.

You tease her, getting close to conceal the fact your fingers are dipping into the waistband of her cargo pants. She grabs your hands.

"You wanna go?" She says, already sending a text to KK to let her know.

"Yes.." You say, and with that, she's grabbing your hand again, half dragging you out of the club.

A few minutes later, you're back at her dorm, and once you're inside, with the door shut, Paige doesn't waste a second.

You moan into her mouth as she kisses you, pulling you into her with one hand on your jaw, the other around your waist.

She's needy, and you can feel it with the way she's kissing you so desperately.

Paige's got your dress half off, the thin straps off your shoulders, when you stop her to press her against the door.

You kiss down her neck, the smooth expanse of skin that always drives you crazy.

"Y/n, don't leave a hickey-" Paige says, but can't stiffle the whimper she makes when you bite her, your hands busy unbuttoning her cargos.

"Shhh.. let me hear those pretty whimpers, Paige," You say, biting further down, leaving kisses down to her chest.

"Can I take this off?"

You gesture to her outfit, and she just looks at you with want.

"Yes, of course- can I take your dress off?"

Even though you've been dating for a few months, you both still ask.

"Yes-" The word has barely left your mouth before she's slipping it off you, the material pooling on the floor as you kick it away.

She's kissing your collarbone, leaving a trail of hickeys in her wake.

"My pretty girl" Paige's hands are wandering, pulling you into her again, squeezing your ass.

"Off," You say, pulling her pants halfway down. Paige steps out of them, and you drop to your knees.

"We haven't done it this way yet-" You smirk up at her, and she stiffles a moan at the sight of you between her legs. It never gets old.

You press a finger to her boxers - soaked- and smirk when she begs at your touch.

"Please y/n.. don't tease"

"I know, baby, you're already so wet for me... being such a good girl"

Paige moans at your words, her hips slightly raising.

You take her boxers off and slide your tongue into her folds, relishing the way her hands automatically come down to hold your head.

"Mmmm," You moan at her taste and the position she's got you in, feeling her fingers tangle in your hair, her grip firm.

You sink two fingers into her easily and Paige whimpers as you suck on her clit. Her hips buck into you, grinding down onto your tongue.

"Yes, baby, being so good for me. Fuck my face, just like that-"

You praise her, and you don't need to look up to know she's pink. Paige fucks your face, her hands guiding you as she moans.

"Fuck y/n I'm gonna come, y/n!"

Paige comes, your fingers coated with her slick. You suck them, and she eyes you, pulling you up to her.

Paige kisses you hungrily, picking you up and setting you onto the edge of the bed.

"Does my pretty girl want my strap?" She asks you, fingers on your jaw.

"Yes.. please Paige"

You plead from beneath her and she smirks at your needy tone.

A few minutes later, she's back, her purple strap ready to go.

Pulling off your panties, Paige smirks at your wetness, pushing two fingers in to test if you're ready.

"Please Paige, I need you so bad-" You're begging because it's true- but also because she loves it when you do.

"Okay, y/n.. since you want it so bad.. such a whore for me"

Paige slides the strap in, relishing the way you take her so well. You wrap your legs around her, hands tangled in her hair as she kisses you.

"Paige-" You moan out as she hits your g spot, "please Paige, right there.. don't stop-"

"Not stopping ma"

Paige says, speeding up, her thrusts faster.

She's so turned on by the sight of you being so fucked out beneath her that she almost thinks she could come again.

"Fuck Paige.. please.. please.. I, I'm gonna come"

You clutch at her, nails digging into her back as she fucks you.

"Come for me y/n"

You do just that, shaking as you come on her strap.

You kiss her cheek, recovering from your high.

"Good job baby.. you did so- ahhh-"

Your praise is cut short as she snaps her hips into you, clearly not done with you yet. She kisses you again, biting on your bottom lip.

"Paige- Paige.. I can't take it" You pull away from the kiss to moan at her so deep inside you.

"Shhh, shut up, take it baby. I know you can."

Paige keeps fucking you, and you realize why she's continuing. The strap is hitting her clit at the perfect angle, making her thrusts a little sloppier, a little more desperate.

"Oh baby, you want to come again, don't you? That's why you're fucking me so good-"

You hold her face, watching the way her eyes are glazed over with a bit of satisfaction. Paige always gets so pathetic when she wants to come.

"Yes.. you feel so good y/n" Paige whimpers, fucking you rougher as she gets near her high. You feel yourself close to coming again and even closer when she presses on your lower stomach.

"I'm gonna come Paige-"

Paige moans, the strap rocking against her.

"Come with me pretty girl"

You come together, shaking and glad, and she breathes heavily on top of you for a second before sliding out gently.

Paige cleans you off with some tissues.

"That was so good baby, you okay?"

Paige checks in on you, handing you her waterbottle. She's finding a big shirt for you to sleep in, settling on an old navy Uconn shirt.

"Yeah, I'm good, that was great, love," You say back, giggling as she puts the shirt on over you, ruffling your hair.

"Come cuddleee," Paige whines, and you grin at her.

"You're such a baby Paige"

You settle on her chest, feeling tired but happy.

"No, you're the baby! I bet you're gonna fall asleep first!"

The banter feels familiar. You smile, pressing a kiss against her collarbone.

"I love you, Paige,"

It's Paige's turn to smile, her eyes turning into little crescents as she grins.

"I love you too y/n"

---

Authors Note: Paige fic! Lowkey this was just filth but I wanted to switch it up from the usual fluff. I hope y'all enjoyed <333.

[shockercoco]

Whiskey

Major John Egan x reader

Warnings - few swear words, flirting, alcohol

Word count - 1418

a/n - it's been sooo long, mainly because I've been focused on doing applications to transfer colleges. I also didn't know who to write about for a while after farleigh, lol. I hope you enjoy :)

“How much longer are you going to be back there?” your friend groans from the other side of the bar. The bar staff requested extra hands since a large number of pilots and crew had arrived, and for some reason you volunteered to help out. 

“I have another hour left, and then I’m finished,” you say as you hand the guy next to her his drink. She just groans in response. “Plus, you said you were planning on ditching me and finding someone to entertain you for the night.”

“Yeah, but it’s not the same when I’m doing it alone.”

“You do realize I’m not the only person you know here, right?” You tell her as another uniformed man walks up to the bar.

“Can I get a round of whiskeys and a ginger beer, please?” the man asks before your friend could answer. You nod and get started on his order.

“Ginger beer?” you hear your friend ask in a judgemental yet light tone.

“Don’t worry it’s not for me,” the man lets out a small laugh. You hand him his drinks on a tray, and he thanks you before walking away.

“You may not be the only person I know, but you're the only one I really like. But I’ll leave you alone to do your job and make my way to where that man just went,” your friend nudges her head in his direction. After following him with your eyes you give her a ‘really’ look once you spot the table and she gives you an innocent shrug in return.

The table is surrounded by nothing but higher ups. It also happens to include the inseparable best friends Major John “Bucky” Egan and Major Gale “Buck” Cleven.

“Maybe once you get Major Egan you’ll be able to put in a good word for me with Major Cleven, or if I get to Cleven first, I could put in a good word for you. We could do the whole double date thing. Their names have a nice ring to it don’t you think?” 

“Lower your voice,” you shush her as you glance around for any listening ears. All of the men in the bar know one another in some way, and word travels fast.

“What? You’ve had a crush on the guy for the longest time, and you do nothing about it every time he flies in,” she tells you. “If you ask him out and he turns you down, it's not like you have to see him for long.”

“I’m sorry, have you met me? What makes you think I would ever go up to a guy and ask him out?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I guess I’ll just have to be bold for the both of us. Can I get a shot before I go, I’m going to need some liquid courage to take these men on.”

“Take your shot and go,” you say as you wave her off with your hand after placing her shot down in front of her. She takes her shot and wanders off, but not before giving you a smirk. You just playfully roll your eyes in return.

You don’t realize how much time goes by with the constant swarm of men coming up to the bar, but when you decide to look up at the clock on the wall you notice you only have ten minutes left until you're free. It has pretty much slowed down given the fact that most of the men were already drunk out of their minds, but the room was far from quiet.

“Next time it’ll be me who knocks his ass out,” you hear a voice say as they come up to the bar you currently had your back to.

You turn around confused, planning to question the person, but you freeze a little once you notice Major Eagan infront of you. You feel yourself panic a little given the fact that this is the closest you’ve ever been to him. He must see your confused expression though because he begins to explain himself.

“Sorry not you, I was talking to one of my buddies. He knocked some brit out on the first punch,” he says, but not before quickly adding, “It was well deserved though, the man was a prick.”

You just nod in response, not knowing what to say to that other than, “Can I get you anything, Major?”

“Yes, whiskey please,” he smiles as he leans his uniform covered arms on the bar top.

“You wouldn’t happen to belong to the table that requested all those whiskeys tonight would you?” you ask as you turn around to grab a bottle and glass. You also try to keep your hands steady and your face as neutral as possible.

“Guilty,” he lets out a small laugh as you set his drink in front of him. He doesn’t reach out to touch it, but keeps those blue eyes of his on you. “Got a problem with whiskey?”

“No, why do you ask?”

“Because I could’ve sworn you made a face when I said it,” he tells you, but there’s no attitude behind it. Good observation skills on his part, bad concealing skills on your part. He is a soldier after all.

“Oh, you caught that,” you let out a little laugh as you try to busy yourself with something behind the bar. As much as you would like to keep talking to him – because you would most likely never get the chance again – you kind of wish he would walk away so you could control your sweating. Your friend would probably slap you if you turned this interaction down though.

“Yeah, is there a story behind it or you just don’t like whiskey?” 

“I just don’t like it,” you say, and it’s true. You feel it’s way too strong, especially to be drinking so casually.

“You have one of the best whiskeys sitting on that shelf behind you, and you're telling me you don’t like it?” you’re not looking at him, but you can hear a playful tone in his voice. If only your friend could see you now, wherever she is.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“Uh huh,” he replies in a tone that tells you he doesn’t believe you. “When are you able to leave from behind there?” he motions to you behind the bar. 

You take a glance up at the clock at the wall and notice you’re not supposed to leave for another three  minutes. But, then again, a cute guy is standing across from you so who cares?

“Now actually,” you respond.

“Well then pour yourself a glass, and I’ll drink it with you,” he tells you, and you feel your stomach flutter. It also could be that you’re nauseous from being so nervous.

“This sounds an awful lot like peer pressure,” you joke and he lets out a laugh. 

You do as he says and pour yourself a glass because what the hell. He raises his up as a form of cheers, and you do the same before you both tilt your heads back and drink. You pull a face as the liquid burns going down your throat; he just laughs. 

“You really don’t like it,” he says as you set your glass down.

“I prefer sweeter things like wine. You know, the stuff that doesn’t taste like acid,” you say, and he just lets out another laugh at your response.

“Well I’ll remember that for next time,” he says, and you almost drop your guys’ cups, which you just picked up to put away.

“Next time?” you pause before looking up at him.

“Yes. I’m going to be here for a while, and I figured the two of us could do something,” he tells you like it was obvious,” Without any whiskey involved of course.”

“And what makes you think I want to?”

“Because you just spent the past ten minutes having a conversation with me. Oh, and your friend told me to come over here since I helped her get with my buddy Buck,” he gives you a smirk.

Your heart practically slaps the ground, and you feel like you actually might throw up. Part of you isn’t surprised because you were never going to do anything about your crush and your friend knew, and the other part of you is shocked because what happened to girl code?

“Well now I definitely don’t want to,” you tell him, half joking, as you resume cleaning up.