#at least like the direction it's going in

[prael]

Phonecalls

Kinktember Day 24: Vicarphilia

IVE Gaeul x male or female reader smut

words: 3,757 Kinktember Masterlist

Happy Gaeul day!

Gaeul is the personification of the phrase ‘Don't judge a book by its cover.’

A big personality inside a small stature, Gaeul's appearance belies her true self. She's enigmatic, she's witty, she's charismatic, she's funny, and most importantly, she's honest. Honest, almost, to a fault.

She's your best friend, and she has always had your back. When you were down, she would always pull you back up. When you were lost, she would always find you. Gaeul has always been there for you no matter what, and you always knew you could rely on her. You trust Gaeul implicitly, and she does you.

There's this other side to Gaeul too, see, she looks ever so innocent. The way her voice always carries with excitement, it's always so full of life and wonder. Innocence is always an assumption people have of Gaeul. It's completely, and utterly incorrect, but people tend to assume it nonetheless.

Gaeul called you up as she usually does, and yes, you were busy, but not even an hour later you found yourself at a cafe sitting across from her. It was important, or so she said.

"Look at this message. He definitely wants to bone me, right?" Just like that, you had your regular reminder that all those assumptions about Gaeul are wrong.

"I don't know, he just said he wants to get drinks," you answered, albeit in the least convincing tone in your arsenal. Of course, he wanted to bone her.

"Exactly, drinking leads to being drunk and being drunk leads to boning."

"I've gotten drunk around you loads of times and we never ended up in bed together."

Gaeul squinted at you disapprovingly. "Well, we almost—"

"We don't talk about that, remember. Anyway, what's the problem, isn't this basically your dream Friday night? Boy meets girl, boy and girl get drunk, boy takes girl home, boy and girl fuck until they fall asleep," you told her, tilting your iced coffee in her direction as a gesture of encouragement.

"So you do think he's gonna bone me?" Gaeul asked, leaning back on her seat as she chewed on her bottom lip, no longer sure what to think of this text.

"Okay, maybe, but what's the problem?"

"He seems a bit clingy. He's all 'It would be cool if we could get dinner before' or 'I'd love it if we could go watch that new film that's out'," she groaned. "What am I, his girlfriend?"

Some psychiatrists would probably diagnose this as something born out of attachment issues or maybe some insecurity. Whatever, why bother with the analysis? She just hates relationships. 

She's young and having fun—a lot of fun. Sex, and plenty of it. Men and women in equal supply. Either way, relationships aren't on her agenda.

That's not what this story is, anyway. This story is not about Gaeul, not really. Her raunchy nights with strangers are important, but for you, it's more about the morning after.

"So cut it off with him, then. Give him some fake excuse and ghost him before you have another person falling for you."

She slammed her head onto the wooden table of the cafe. "Easier said than done. I mean he's funny. And he's pretty cute." She peered at you, an evil grin now curling her lips, "And I still want to bang him."

"Gaeul, we both know how this ends, you're going to see him tonight and you're ending the night on your back."

"Counter argument: maybe I'm on top."

"Alright, sure, but why am I here? You're only going to call me right after anyway."

"Well..." Gaeul said, leaning closer. "He has this friend and—"

"No, I'm good," you told her and she reeled back from your instant rejection, her eyes wide as if you'd shot her dead.

"Ugh, you're no fun." She shrugged, unfazed, as her hands flew across her phone's screen.

"You know where I get my fun."

"I'll call you after, don't worry," Gaeul said with a slight curve in the corner of her mouth, and that was the promise you held her to.

The promise she was right now upholding. Your phone is ringing with a call from Gaeul and it's the perfect way to start your morning. You smile, content that your best friend has kept to her promise.

"So? How'd it go, was he as big as you hoped?" You ask as you roll over onto your side and prop yourself on one elbow, the smooth fabric of your silken sheets beneath you.

"Big enough," she says followed by a satisfied hum, and you can just imagine that Gaeul must have the kind of stupid, satisfied smile that reaches her ears right now, "The things I let people do to me."

You shake your head and roll your eyes at that last part. "Come on, Gaeul, are you going to keep talking vague? The suspense is killing me." Your lips spread into a teasing grin that you're pretty sure Gaeul can hear through the call. You do very much appreciate her elaborate storytelling.

"Alright fine," she sighs, and the satisfaction is still there, if the subtle laugh she gives is any indication. "The drinks were good and went down easy. There was the small talk and the questions. So, I told him, he could ask any question as long as I got to ask any question I wanted afterwards. We were curious enough about each other and eager enough. We agreed.

"He started with these boring ones, 'What made you dye your hair black', 'Do you prefer salty or sweet foods', and all that other shit. But then I asked him a question that made his eyes pop."

"What was it?" You ask. Gaeul pauses, but the anticipation is a welcome feeling. Her playful silence lets the anticipation rise in you.

"I asked him, 'My face or my ass'?" You both laugh. That was so typical of Gaeul. Typical, but ever so effective.

"And what did he pick?"

"My face, though I don't think he understood I was asking him where he would prefer to cum. His face was so innocent when he said it. I wanted to give him a pat on the head for such a good answer," she explains in an exaggerated cutesy voice.

"He was all the usual, 'Oh you're so pretty' and 'Oh you're so adorable'. Yadda, yadda, yadda. I'm not saying he wasn't right because I do look really pretty," Gaeul quipped, to which you smiled, and she continued, "It went on for a while, he started asking some... hotter things. About how and when I touch myself."

"Usual guy stuff, sure," you joke, and you take delight in how she snorts a little giggle.

"Sure, well, next came his inevitable, 'Want to head back to mine?' Of course, I said 'Yes'. Then he said he would call us a cab, which, thank god, because it's much harder to do hand stuff on a bus compared to a cab."

"But not impossible," you interjected, remembering how she once described being felt up by someone in a packed train car. The way she grinned as she recounted it made her quite the bad girl.

"Anyway, we get in the cab and he just can't keep his hands off me. All over my tits and shit," she lets out a dark chuckle before her voice falls deeper, lower, sensual, and with the emphasis of a dangerous edge, "Don't know if the driver appreciated it but I sure as fuck did."

"Tell me more," you say, putting Gaeul on loudspeaker and placing the phone on the pillow by your head. You lay flat on your back and stretch your muscles. The joints of your toes curl into the sheets and push them down into the mattress as you arc your spine, and the deep inhale you take through your open mouth is soon followed by a relaxed exhale.

"He just slipped his hand up my shirt while she kissed my neck," Gaeul continues, bringing the memory to life with her words. She recounts in precise and deliberate detail how her nipples went hard the instant she was touched, the electricity sparking inside of her as he pinched at them with thumb and forefinger.

There's a rustling from the other side of the call before she continues her story, "We get in his place, he gets the door locked behind him, and the first thing I feel is his hot breath against my ear. It was warm and it tickled just a little bit. Then he whispered in a low voice that I can tell he thought was seductive."

"What did he say?" You ask, eagerly.

"'Fuck, I've never been this horny with someone so quick before'," Gaeul says and pauses. You both share a small laugh before she goes on, "Honestly, I did think it was kinda sexy at the moment, you know? Then he pulls off my shirt. Doesn't even unbutton it, just over my head with all the buttons. Guess the horniness was getting to him."

"Can't blame him." you run your hand up your own torso, fingertips barely brushing over the smooth, warm skin.

"And fuck, I was horny too. I was hungry. I turned and pinned him to his door, you should have seen the shock on his face, and I planted a kiss right on his lips. He wasn't that great. Wasn't really my type of kisser, actually. Too stiff, his lips were too dry, but still a kiss. I guess," Gaeul gives every little detail about him; from how his height stood a whole head taller than her, to how his eyes shone in the dark with a hint of anticipation. "I wasn't there for the kissing, so it was fine, and that's when his hands grabbed my ass. He was so rough, you should have heard the smack his palm made as it landed."

You hum in approval and bring a hand between your legs. In your mind's eye, you see her ass being spanked and groped, and you feel yourself growing more aroused. "Go on."

"Rough hands," Gaeul breathes into the phone. "I fucking love it."

"Yeah..." You sigh grab hold of your thighs and stretch out the tension.

"I could feel it, how hard he was, poking through his trousers and into my stomach."

"You loved feeling how hard you got him, didn't you?"

"Fuck yeah," her voice, dripping in lust and sex, was deep and steady like it always was when she gets like this. "So I dropped to my knees, practically ripped open his belt buckle and pulled down his zipper. And those pants fell to his ankles just like that, and then came the thing I was actually there for."

"Let's hear it," you urged.

"Like I said, good size, that's for sure, I've seen way worse. No way near the biggest dick that I've taken though. Anyway, I start stroking him with one hand," Gaeul lets out a gasp. You're not quite sure if it's for the benefit of her storytelling, but her sounds have always driven you crazy. "And then with my other, I've got his balls cupped and he's fucking loving it.

"I could tell, his cock was getting so big and so hot. It throbbed so much in my hands, so much so I could feel the blood pumping through him. And my hands were moving faster, my lips, teasing his tip, kissing, nibbling, even licking. I loved every fucking second because his dick tasted so good. After all, I could feel how worked up he was. So, I took him whole, you should have heard him moan, it was the cutest groan,"

Gaeul then breathes out heavily into the microphone, and her breath hitches in her throat and comes out short and sharp. You close your eyes and try and imagine the scene, and Gaeul must be reliving it too as you listen to her soft, sharp, wet breathing over the line. You tease yourself and plead with her, "Don't stop."

"And I'm looking up at him, through my lashes, and his eyes are almost pleading like he was trying so hard to hold his cum. Like he's trying to impress me, prove to me how much stamina he has. He's letting little moans and grunts out from his cute little lips, he's gripping the door handle so tight his fingers were white, and his knees are trembling. He's about to cum in my mouth, and my pussy is aching for him," she continues and lets her sentence trail off into a whining moan as she imagines his dick twitching inside her mouth.

"So quickly?" You ask, pushing your underwear down to your knees.

"I'm just that good, babe. The second my mouth met the shaft of his cock he was practically ready to burst. My tongue was dancing over the head, and I could taste the precum," Gaeul recalls. Her voice sizzles in your ears, and it is more like a deep purr, and it sends thrills down your body. A soft exhale escapes your mouth, and you're imagining her tongue caressing a hard dick. "And I'm only sucking harder now, stroking him faster. My left hand gripping onto him tight and tugging away. My right cradling those balls of his."

"All to make him cum," you utter in an aroused voice that you tried to hide but couldn't.

"Shit babe, it worked. I didn't even have time to prepare for him," she recounts. "He bucks his hips into my mouth. Barely has a chance to grab my head, he just blows so soon. All his cum was hot, and he was flooding my mouth."

"Shit..." You moan softly as you visualise a young man bucking his hips and releasing into Gaeul's mouth.

"Did I just go over to his to swallow his cum?" She asks and gives a laugh.

"I hope not."

"You wanna know what's funny?"

"Tell me," you plead to her.

"He came so quick that he went bright red, embarrassed, stuttering like a schoolboy that got caught smoking by the principal. All the courage he built up earlier in the taxi ride was completely gone. I couldn't help but laugh, mouth full of his cum, laughing at him. But I'm not going to lie. As he deflated so fast after he blew, all that bravado disappeared."

You let out a soft, something, barely a laugh, hesitating to touch as Gaeul grinds the story to a halt.

"Not funny?" she asks.

"Just, wish you'd continue, kinda in the middle of something here."

"Sorry, okay, where was I," Gaeul trails her words. "So I swallowed every drop, wiped at my chin where I've spilt a little and the guy still looks like he's going to die. I wanted him to suffer in the embarrassment a little, I wasn't going to tell him 'It's okay', so I got up and pulled him across his apartment. The guy nearly fell over his trousers since they were still on his ankles until he kicked them off.

"So the guy is a bit of a clean freak, by the way, the apartment was spotless. Somehow, I'm leading him to his own bed, don't know where the fuck I'm going but I find it and push him onto it. At this point, the guy's half-naked, sprawled, with his hand over his dick."

"All shy after your pretty lips have gotten him off, huh?"

"Right." Gaeul laughs, "So I stand at the edge of his bed, kick off my sneakers then pull down my jeans and drop them beside him. Then, he's staring at me and I ask him, 'Like the view?'"

"Stupid question, you're smoking," you interject with a smirk on your lips.

"The guy says, and I quote, 'Holy cow.' Who the fuck says 'holy cow'? Holy cow, babe, just holy cow," Gaeul starts laughing something manic, a cackle which is matched with a soft sigh, "Then, I just kinda laughed, like really, really laughed. It's all absurd, you get what I mean?"

"Oh god no he didn't?" You asked though the amusement was already creeping through.

"Right? What an idiot. Well, he was turning redder and redder as I was dying of laughter. It's about this time I realised I was so horny I had seduced pretty much the biggest loser in the city. Anyway, I had to shut him up, so I climbed onto the bed, and then onto his face. Dropped myself onto his stupid mouth. And then..."

"Then?" you prod her on.

"His lips and his tongue..." She makes a small moan, pleased, deep and sexy, and the sound is so hot. "Hungry boy. He starts lapping at my pussy like he was starved. He's all groaning and humming, and the vibration. That feels fucking great."

"Oh fuck..." You let a tiny sigh, one that you meant to keep to yourself, escape your lips. Gaeul keeps talking and in your mind, you're there with her—her voice fills your mind and draws an image. She tells you how she fucks his mouth, your imagination takes over.

"His tongue dances on me, licking over my lips, my clit, his lips were smacking and sucking on my most sensitive parts. He was so... energetic," Gaeul tells you. Your eyes closed, you can only imagine, in full detail, every stroke and flicker of his tongue as she described it. "Worshiping my pussy like it's the best thing in the world. So when his hands are grabbing hold of my ass and bringing my cunt to him even harder... Shit," Gaeul breaks from the story and swears.

You can't hold back anymore, touching yourself to the thought.

"He wanted this so bad. His hands were clamping hard onto me. His mouth sucking on me like a fucking vacuum. His tongue was all over the place. Everywhere it touches is like a jolt of electricity going through me. It's sending such great signals up my spine, right to my brain." Gaeul lets out a full, deep moan. One that is as tantalising as her words. It's followed by the sound of rustling. "I start just grinding down into his stupid fucking face."

You'd love nothing else in the world right now than to have Gaeul ride your face. "I can't get over how fucking delicious you would look like," you tease, "With that dumb guy, pinned under you,"

"I was moaning like crazy. If the neighbours were asleep, well, not anymore," Gaeul describes.

"Fuck," you respond as you find rhythm. You lose track of everything else, picturing Gaeul riding his stupid face until she cums.

Gaeul moans again, louder now, and with a husky, raspiness to her tone that you have memorised.

"There is no shame left in me, my hips moving into him with a need, a need for release," Gaeul chokes, then resumes with a pace of her own, "I can feel his fingers digging deeper and deeper into my flesh, and he was rocking my cunt even harder into his hungry mouth. His tongue, working so good. So, good...

"Just remembering how it felt... I'm gonna..." Gaeul moans again, throaty and harsh, and you picture it all in your head. She is sitting up in bed, legs wide apart, and fingers buried deep inside of her pussy. Moaning into her phone, moaning to you.

It's an amazing fucking image.

"I can feel my entire body starting to go warm, my thighs clamping onto the poor guy's skull. Oh my fucking god, his tongue, I love it, his tongue," Gaeul makes a long, low and whimpering moan, like the air was squeezed out of her lungs. "It feels like I've lost myself in time, completely. I'm going faster, my hips rolling into him faster and faster, desperate for relief. Then all of a sudden, it's all hitting at once, the spark just lights and I am exploding like a supernova, my core just bursting, and my pussy flooding his fucking stupid mouth."

You're chasing her high. "Shit," you find yourself whispering, softly at first and getting louder as you feel yourself nearing that beautiful feeling of sweet relief.

"I'm cumming so hard, his tongue is still going, still drawing out every last bit of my climax as he keeps feeding on me. The sheer fucking madness of the sensation... fuck, imagine that."

"Yeah..." You groan. "I am."

"You're so filthy," her words drip of sultry sex and that tease in her voice sends a tremor down to the base of your spine, setting your insides ablaze as the blood in your veins rises, the throbbing inside you reaching an incomparable peak. "Are you getting off to my story? I fucking dare you."

You close your eyes and breathe in the thought of her. Every inch of her lustful body, "I am."

"Fucking perv," she growls, her breathing sharp and shaky, erratic. A sound that resonates within your bones, and shakes you to the core. "Bet you want your lips wrapped around my clit. Let you suck the sweet nectar from my tight, hot pussy," she breathes through her teeth in a hissing sound as she falls over that edge. You can feel her shiver and quake. You hear every little shuddering whimper, every moan that escapes her soft, pretty little lips, and they ignite every sense in your body as if you can feel the electricity coursing through every nerve in her body, just as it is inside you.

You cum for her. You always cum for her, just like this. Your toes curl and your back arches. You twist, writhing under the feeling, your skin blazing as sweat rolls over it, your whole world coming to a beautiful standstill. You can't help but cry out her name in your bed.

"Nothing else makes me cum like this," you mumble, breathless and ragged as you finish, then add "You slut."

"How does it make you feel, hearing my dirty sex stories first thing in the morning?" Gaeul purrs. There is a sinister satisfaction in her tone, and that coy smile curling the corner of her mouth is definitely there in her voice. You can imagine it clear as day because it has been etched into your brain, that stupid, irresistible grin of hers.

"More," you beg, the aftermath of your orgasm, leaving the inside of your body searing hot, a sensation that you want desperately more of.

"Not now. Later," she sneers, knowing how it kills you inside.

[tame-the-lion-writes]

reader finds out the mini army in her home actually A GROUP OF 4 GROWN MEN bcs shes taking them to the vet to castrate them and they panic and shift in her car just outside the vet you cant change my mind

Not gonna lie, I didn't think about them getting neutered until recently, either. But I can imagine reader tricking them into getting in her car, saying they're just gonna go to the park... and then the vet comes into view.

It's a miracle that you don't crash when the chaos starts. Soap is ramming himself into the glass window in an attempt to get out. Gaz is doing the same after hopping over the back seat into the trunk. Ghost is in a battle with you to keep the window up(--you forgot there's a switch to lock it, so it's just you and him pressing down on the button simultaneously). And Price, who normally gets the front seat, has attempted to hijack the steering wheel.

You pull over as soon as possible so you don't run over a pedestrian, but although Ghost has been seemingly calm the whole time, it's him who wedges a paw into the front passenger seat area and unlocks the door. Now you're chasing the boys down the street. Luckily, they just head home.

You've learned your lesson, though. At least, you do after a couple more tries. There is no strapping them in or putting on doggy seatbelts, because they get out of it anyway. There's also no blindfolding them, because it's like they've memorized both the directions and the mere sensation of where they're going.

Is losing your balls really that bad?

[rhenuvee]

Pretty Privilege [Alhaitham x reader]

A/N: not Alhaitham managing to sneak his way into my drafts for a third time, reader is from Kshahrewar, lovesick!Alhaitham (Alhaitham's a jerk to everyone but you, might be ooc), lowkey could connect to my other Alhaitham fics

Warnings: drinking mentioned but not alcohol, reader gets a little emotional if you squint (not used to affection)

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Your boyfriend Alhaitham was... something else. You were new to the whole relationship thing, so adjusting to the dating life was something you had to get used to. What you still couldn't fathom were the "perks" Alhaitham has granted you, as his partner.

"Alhaitham, what is this?"

His roommate Kaveh stood with his arms crossed, looking at the scene before him: You were sitting on the couch, meticulously making your model of your project due soon. It was clear from your eyes that sleep wanted to overtake you, but of course you couldn't give in. But the worst part was Alhaitham, who was sitting next to you- though it was more like behind you by the way he rested his chin on your shoulder.

Kaveh is all for supporting your relationship, and on a normal day he'd treat you guys like friends (he'd never say that to Alhaitham). But in this situation, there was something particular irritating.

"...what do you mean." Alhaitham asks in a bored manner.

"It is almost midnight and you're still up."

"So?"

"So, you're usually asleep by at least two hours ago."

"And?"

"...You- You'd usually complain about something like this! How many times have you bashed me for working on my projects this late, and now you're here with (y/n) staying up! Nothing against you (y/n), you know I'd understand." Kaveh adds in the last part quickly, seeing as his complaint might seem directed towards the wrong person.

"All good." You reply robotically, yawning right after.

"Remember what you said a few weeks ago about the lows of Kshahrewar? I sure hope you have something to explain that and the spot you're in right now, particularly taking back what you said."

"Mhm, Kshahrewar is the best darshan..." Alhaitham mumbles halfheartedly in a monotone voice, almost nuzzling his head closer into your neck.

"...Somehow I don't feel satisfied with that." Kaveh sighs, arms loosening from their crossed position. It was clear that the Scribe didn't actually mean it, or at least was occupied with other things that made his answer seem insincere. The architect leaves, not finding any solution to the issue.

However, the obvious bias doesn't end here. Something similar happened the next week, except the victim wasn't Kaveh (for once). You were waiting in line at a restaurant near the Akademiya.

It sure gets busy during lunch time... You think. And even busier because of the special gift they were giving away…

"(Y/n)." A familiar voice calls to you. You look up from your daze and realize it's your boyfriend.

"Alhaitham, what are you doing here?" Suddenly, you start to feel pairs of eyes drift to your conversation.

"More like what are you doing here." He replies sharply. You internally giggle at your boyfriend's sassiness, but don't fault him because there is an abnormally long line this time.

"Well... they're giving away a free TCG card with their new sandwich." You say shyly. You feel a sigh coming from him for lining up for a little thing, but...

"Why don't you just ask the owner? I know him." He replies.

"...What do you mean, ask the owner? You mean just go up to the front?" You ask.

"Yes."

"-Alhaitham. I can't just do that, I can't cut in line." You stammer. You can't believe your boyfriend would actually condone this type of behaviour. He shrugs and walks off. You huff, thinking how sometimes you can't read him.

A few minutes later, you see him walk back with... a sandwich and TCG card in hand.

"Alhaitham." You cross your arms and look right at him. However, of course it doesn't intimidate him, as he just stares right back with the same deadpan eyes.

"Yes?"

You walk out of line, quickly pushing him until you both reach a less crowded area. Because you're behind him trying to shove him by his stupidly large torso, he secretly smiles at how cute you are, trying to take control of the situation and how you puff your cheeks out because of it.

"Alhaitham, you did not just go to the front and ask for the sandwich." You say, starting to scold him.

"I got the card too." He says, waving it. You tsk, snatching the sandwich and card out of his hand. He snorts at your slight frustration in his literalness.

"Alhaitham, you didn't have to. I could have waited in line like a normal person." You pout, trying to make him see the bad sides of his actions.

"The owner would have kept one for me anyway. And I wouldn't let you stand outside for so long. Especially with how heavy your bag is- don’t Kshahrewar students carry bricks?" He explains, sitting down on the stone.

"That's not really the problem..." You say, even though that last part was quite true. "Even though the owner kept one aside, the people in line who saw that would have felt really mad at you for cutting."

"Why should I care about what they think?"

"Alhaitham!" Sometimes you hate how quick and blunt his responses are. You sigh again. By now you already knew about your boyfriend's habits and how straightforward he thinks- and most of the time he is right. At least you know he had good intentions.

"Don't do it again, please?" You say, sitting and putting your hands on his chest. "At least not without asking me first."

"Okay, fine." He's willing to make compromises, especially when you look at him so dearly. You eat your sandwich in peace, giving Alhaitham a few bites here and there, and talk about things that happened today.

Buuttttt, it still doesn't end there. A couple months later, the semester ends and you decide to go out and have drinks with your friends. Alhaitham also mentioned he was going to be there with his friends, but he'd be at another table. It's a win-win, plus it's good to have him there for safety.

"And then, he just brushed everyone off! So I don't think I'd ever have a chance with him." Your friend says sadly.

"I don't think anyone has a chance with him." Another chimes in. You and your friends laugh at the wittiness, happy to be enjoying each others presence after a long semester of working and studying.

"I've seen him carry an anemo vision." You say from passing by him a few times.

"I've seen that too!" Your friend remarks, and the rest nod along. "He's probably very strong."

"I hope you guys have been enjoying your night!" A waiter says as he comes to the table. "Here are your bills."

The waiter hands your friends their bills, but doesn't hand you one.

"Excuse me! You didn't give me mine." You say quickly, before he leaves again.

"Oh! Your boyfriend has already paid for yours." The waiter says, pointing to his table, then heading off. Your friends coo at how sweet you guys were, and suddenly you have a sense of deja vu. After your friends pay their bills for the night, you immediately walk over to Alhaitham's table.

"Alhaitham."

"Yes?" Once again, you're hating how deadpan he sounds when you know he knows what you're about to say.

"You didn't have to."

"I did." You frown again.

"I'll be outside, saying bye to my friends." You say after sighing. Alhaitham nods, and his friends can only smile when they see another occurrence of him spoiling you.

"Why is it that (y/n) gets much better treatment from Alhaitham, yet also doesn't approve of it?" It's Kaveh's turn to pout now.

"I think it's more of 'acceptance' for them, and let's be honest I'd have a hard time accepting kindness from Alhaitham." Cyno says matter-of-factly. Tighnari's ears perk up at Cyno's blunt yet witty remark, while Kaveh can only grumble in agreement. Alhaitham, surprisingly has a small smirk on his face despite the little jab from Cyno. Kaveh's frown deepens.

"I need another drink." Kaveh crosses his arms. Tighnari and Cyno look at each other confused.

Alhaitham abruptly bids his goodbyes, walking off with a satisfied smile. He joins you and catches up, hearing that you've just said goodbye to your friends as well. After a few minutes of walking, Alhaitham breaks the silence.

"The boys think I've been treating you a lot better than them." He says. You turn and look at your boyfriend, a little surprised that he's starting the conversation this time. Usually when you have time alone, you're the one who starts talking. But you close your eyes and smile, taking this as a sign that he's had a good time- even if he won't admit it.

"It's because you do." You say. You’re surprised he brought this up. You're aware of Alhaitham spoiling you since your relationship started, and it has pushed you into a realm of affection you didn't know of. It's still hard to grasp for you, since it is your first relationship, and he makes you happy.

"Is there a problem with it?" He asks.

"...no." You say shyly. The question he asks has a bit more of a unsure 'no' for an answer than you say, but Alhaitham seems to catch on. "It's just hard to get used to."

"Hard to get used to? You deserve it though." Alhaitham says. And you almost want to cry the way you know he's being genuine, but the words feel foreign to you. He senses your emotions, and brings you to a stop, just a few steps away from his house.

"Alhaitham..." You can barely croak out a sentence. He gives you a soft kiss on your forehead, running his fingers near the spot, soothing you.

"And besides, what they don't know is that I do treat everyone fairly. Including you." He says. You cock your head in confusion. His statement sounds normal, but you can't help but think he means otherwise. "Remember your overdue library book? I did hold you accountable that time."

You quirk your head in confusion. You do remember that, and how panicked you were when you realized after he pointed it out. But you were certain he did not hold you accountable, which was terrible especially with his role in the Akademiya now.

"No you didn't." You remark.

"I did. I told you to give me a kiss."

"Wh- a kiss is a romantic thing, not transactional! You mean to tell me that was conpensation?" You sputter in disbelief. He nods, and you can't stay mad to him. "Alhaitham, you're so mushy-"

"I agree. Add insufferable to that as well." A voice interrupts. Your head snaps to the source, which is of course a mopey looking Kaveh. "Also remind me next time, to walk twenty meters behind you guys instead, when walking home."

You open your mouth to say something, but end up staying silent when you watch Kaveh drag himself inside your shared home. You frown, and Alhaitham looks at you, knowing what you're thinking- the same you've thought several times by now.

"Do not." He says abruptly.

"I will buy Kaveh a cake." You say, not paying attention to your boyfriend. You were aware of their bickering, but a lot of times you can’t help but feel bad for Kaveh. Since you’re in the mix now, you feel partially responsible for the privilege you get from Alhaitham- even on his good side, it’s hard to watch others get ignored by him.

"No."

"And a coffee."

"No."

"Yes." You childishly protest against your boyfriend’s lack of empathy (which he does on purpose) towards who’s supposed to be, his best friend. “Tomorrow I will go buy him a cake and a coffee.”

“He can get his own cake and coffee.” He says sarcastically.

“Yes, but I’m sure it’ll make him much happier if he received it as a gift.” You explain.

“You don’t have to.” Alhaitham says, this time with a little bit of softness. You smile, recognizing his efforts to try and persuade you because you know he doesn’t understand why you care about these things. But this time, you won’t waver.

“But I will.” You retort, walking towards the entrance and grabbing the doorknob. “Besides, you said you hold me accountable, won’t you?”

Alhaitham smirks at your cheekiness as you sway your hips when you walk to leave him standing by himself, a satisfied look on your face after referencing the past conversation. He sighs and shakes his head, thinking of how bold you’ve become. He likes it.

“Of course I will.”

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Me: I love Diluc, he is my husband.

Also me: *writes 3 long ass finished fics on Alhaitham*

[scribblesofagoonerr]

under pressure | katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

thank you to the anon that requested this one. it's been fun to write it!

i think i'm gonna plan a part 2 of this maybe, depending on what reaction i get from this one...

pairings: katie mccabe x teen reader x caitlin foord

summary: there's a lot of pressure that comes with being the next big thing in women's football sometimes

warning: talks of a eating disorder and angst

It sometimes felt like you had the world at your feet. You were well aware of the word on the street that you were the next big thing in women’s football. The headlines were quick to label you as a future star, comparing you to legends like Marta or Sam Kerr, but of course being the youngest to sign a professional contract sometimes came with a certain level of expectations, and that was something that nobody could really prepare you for the weight that would follow.

Living alongside Katie McCabe and Caitlin Foord felt like a dream in itself like it would for any football-crazy teenager and you were no different, you moved in with them after your own parents couldn’t travel to England with you. 

Caitlin and Katie were quick to become more than just teammates or mentors, they became family.

It should’ve been perfect– It mostly was.

At least until the pressure started to become too much for you, the media scrutinised everything about you: your every move, every game, every slip-up. There felt like there was never any room for mistakes and it started to take its toll on you.

The expectations suffocated you and you started to believe the medias’ words, not only the media but the pressure of fans as well, you felt like you were weighed down by an anker of harsh criticism.

Maybe if you were smaller– lighter, you could be faster. You could be better.

It only started small, barely noticeable in fact, just skipping meals and convincing yourself that you were just too busy. The comments on how lean you looked pushed you further, but it didn’t take long for the innocent excuses to morph into something darker.

The hunger pains were a lot easier to bear than the suffocating pressure, but you should have realised that it would be harder to hide, and before long, it wasn’t just you who had noticed the toll it was taking on you.

“You seem a lot quieter today kid,” Caitlin was the first to pick up on your bitter mood as you made your way out of the London Colney and headed in the direction of where Katie had parked her car earlier on when you all arrived for training, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m all good,” You gave her a weak smile and kept your shoulders slouched as you opened the car door to climb in.

Are you sure, kiddo?” Katie noted the exhausted look on your face as she opened the car door and climbed in, “Cait’s right, you don’t seem like yourself today.”

“I’m fine Katie,” You all but growled in response and slumped down in the backseat of the car, “I’ve already told you I’m fine, so just leave it, will you?” You hadn’t meant to be rude but you really do hate all the persistent questions being fired at you.

You hated being the centre of attention, despite what the media said about you.

It didn’t take long for you to begin feeling the weight of guilt, “Sorry, didn’t mean to snap like that.”

“It’s okay kiddo,” Katie replied, glancing in the rearview mirror and giving you a reassuring smile, “How about when we get home, we order pizza. My treat?” She offered.

Your smile faltered at the mention of food. Your stomach was hurting from the hunger, but couldn’t give in to the temptations, “Um, it’s okay, I don’t really fancy pizza, thanks,” You respond, biting your bottom lip.

You missed Katie and Caitlin sharing a glance with each other, catching the hesitation in your voice. It was subtle, but they both knew you well enough to notice.

At one point, you used to jump at the chance for pizza nights– especially after a long day of training and now you barely even showed an ounce of interest.

“Okay,” Katie simply nodded and started the ignition of her car up.

The drive back home was quiet, too quiet. The hum of the engine mixed in with the quiet volume of noise in the car filled the silence, but your thoughts were still loud. You couldn’t help but stare out the window, feeling the familiar tightening in your chest.

You hated the fact that they were starting to notice more, it was easier when they didn’t and you could still pretend that things were fine, even if they definitely were not.

You couldn’t ignore the way that your hands trembled slightly from exhaustion or the pounding in your head that had become all too familiar lately.

You just had to pretend for a little while longer.

Back at the house, you immediately make a beeline for your bedroom while muttering something about needing a shower. As soon as you closed the door, you leaned against it and took a deep breath. 

The initial feeling of hunger gnawed at you but you try to shove it aside, heading into the bathroom to splash cold water on your face all while ignoring the mirror, knowing you wouldn’t like what you saw.

“Hey kid! We’re gonna watch a film, do you want to come and join us?” Caitlin shouted upstairs to get your attention and you jolted slightly in shock.

“Uh, yeah, I’m coming!” You respond, turning the tap off and dabbing your face with a towel before making your way back into your bedroom, you shove a cosy hoodie on and shove your hair up in a messy bun before you head back downstairs to join the two of them.

“Here she is,” Katie exclaimed, gesturing for you to join them in the living room, “Where just deciding what film to watch, do you have anything you’d like to watch?” She questioned.

“Um, I don’t mind. I’m fine with anything,” You told her, plopping down on the sofa beside them as you listened to the two of them argue about what to watch.

Usually it was pretty comical when that happened, but you didn’t have it in you to laugh this time round.

The tension in the room was thick, and you knew it was only a matter of time before they brought it up again.

After what felt like an eternity, Caitlin broke the silence, “Y/N, we’re worried about you.”

Your stomach dropped and you should have known this was coming, but it still felt like a punch in the gut.

“You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping,” Katie leaned forward, her expression soft but serious, “You don’t seem like yourself, and we know that the pressure is a lot, but you know that you don’t need to carry it all by yourself.”

“I’m fine,” You shook your head, feeling the familiar panic rise in your chest, “I just have a lot going on right now.”

“We get it kid, but starving yourself isn’t the way to handle things,” Caitlins’ tone of voice was gentle but still firm. “There’s better ways to cope.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pricked at your eyes, but you blinked them away and refused to let them fall, “I’m not starving myself,” You whispered, trying to convince yourself more than them, “I just… I need to be better. I’m not good enough.”

“Y/N, you’re more than good enough,” Katie’s heart broke at your words as she scooted closer and placed her hand on your knee, “You’re incredible, and not just because of football but because of who you are, okay. You can’t do this to yourself, you can’t push yourself to the point where you’re hurting, kiddo.”

Your resolve was crumbing, you suddenly felt the weight of everything that you’d been holding in starting to break down, “I just… I don’t want to let anyone down,” You admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hey, come here,” Caitlin reached over and pulled you into a tight hug, “You’re not letting anyone down, kid. We’re so proud of you– so proud. We just need you to take better care of yourself, and we’re not just talking about football here either. We care about you.”

Burying your face in her shoulder, the tears finally spilled, “I’m scared,” You choked out, “I… I don’t know how to stop.”

Katie soon joined the hug, her arms wrapping around both you and Caitlin, “You don’t have to do it alone,” She paused, “We’re here, we’ll help you, but you need to let us in.”

It felt like for the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable. To let them see just how scared and overwhelmed you really were, with all the added pressure of things.

It now made you realise that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face it all on your own after all.

You could let them in.

© scribblesofagoonerr

[giannaln4]

Lucky Bracelet

lando norris x fem reader

summary: Making friendship bracelets was one of your favourite things to keep you entertained during race weeks, and you just had to make a special one for your boyfriend.  (1.5k words)

warnings: fluff, established relationship, a couple sexual innuendos

a/n: guys look at me! two posts in one week? crazy. i'm honestly trying to clean up my inbox since i still have a few requests from before my break 😭 so if you sent one, i'm getting there, i promise! now, this is a little bit cheesy and there are a few weird time skips so I apologise for that, but i really hope you like it! pls let me know what you think 🫶🏻

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

Being constantly surrounded by hundreds of people and the double amount of cameras was not something you liked, but it’s something you had to put up with given the amount of attention your boyfriend got; it was something you have learnt to deal with. Not that you were fully used to it now, but at least it didn’t make you as anxious as it used to when you first started dating.

At least now you found something that helped you get your mind off the intense atmosphere that surrounded you during race weeks: making friendship bracelets. You made a few when you went to see Taylor Swift in concert late last year, and it stuck with you since then.

You travelled with all the materials you needed: colourful beads and cotton threads, tape, scissors — the whole deal. It wasn’t like you made an insane amount of bracelets every time you accompanied Lando to a race, but if you were bored or overwhelmed, you knew you had something to do.

Today was one of those days; Lando was specially busy today, and given your shy and quiet personality, you didn’t know that many people around, so you decided to lock yourself in Lando’s drivers room and get to it, carefully picking the letters and colours you would use.

Lando hated to leave you alone. He was aware of the many things he had to do, but he didn’t expect them to take that long, so as soon as he got a little bit of free time to catch lunch, he went looking for you. 

“Hey,” he greeted one of the mechanics. 

“Hi mate, how is it going?”

“All good, thanks. It’s a bit hot outside but still nice.”

“And yet, you are wearing a hoodie.” He teased him.

Lando let out a laugh, well aware of his reputation. "Well, I still have to keep it in style, don’t I?”

“You do, we know.”

“Anyway, have you seen Y/N?” 

“She must be in your room. I haven’t seen her since the two of you got here this morning.”

He smiled, knowing exactly what you were up to if you hadn’t left the small space all day. “Thanks.”

Lando made his way to his room, carefully knocking on the door before coming in. He didn’t want to scare you and make you drop all your beads, which has happened more times than he would like to admit.

“Come in,” he heard you yell from inside.

He opened the door and gave you the sweetest smile you have ever seen. “Hey, I’m back.”

“Hey, what took you so long?” You dropped everything you were doing to direct your attention at him. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know we would have to be there all morning, but I’m back for lunch.”

“It’s okay, and thank God, I’m starving.” You took a piece of tape to hold your bracelet in place and started to get up.

“What are you making here?” He asked you as he got closer to the small table, analysing what you had on display as the bright-coloured beads caught his eye.

“No, it’s a surprise.” You responded, quickly hiding your unfinished creation with your hands. 

“A surprise you say?” He came behind you to wrap his arms around you, softly kissing your head. 

You melted into his embrace and hummed in response, using one of your bags to hide it instead so you could hug your boyfriend back. “You can’t see it until you win this race.”

“Mhm, I see. What if I don’t win? When do I get to see it?” He questioned, not wanting to jinx his weekend, but he was still curious. 

“The next race you win.” You said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Got it. In that case, I’m gonna have to win this race.” He grabbed your hips to turn you around, kissing you on the lips once you were facing him.

You went to eat your lunch together as you normally did, enjoying each other’s company as you talked about anything you could come up with. Before you knew it, he had to go back to his duties, and even though you tried hard to act normal about being left alone so he wouldn’t feel guilty, he still noticed. He knew you better than you knew yourself, anyway.

“You can come with me if you want, that way you don’t have to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. I know there are millions of people and cameras when you do these things."

He couldn’t help but feel guilty; he knew you were there to support him, so he hated to be apart from you when you did. “I’m sorry, love. I know you don’t feel comfortable when there are a lot of people around. You know you don’t have to be here if you don’t want to, you could always stay home.”

“If you don’t want me to come, just say that,” you joked.

“No, it’s not that,” Lando replied immediately. “I do want you here, I always do, but I hate that you feel like you have to hide.”

“Lan, I’m not hiding. Sure, I do prefer to stay inside, but it’s not because I want to hide from the world. Besides, that’s why I always bring something to entertain myself with. I’ll be fine, I promise,” you reassure him.

“Okay,” he nods, smiling at you. “But if you want to go back to the hotel, that’s okay.”

The rest of the weekend went on a lot quicker, even though he was just as busy. Qualifying and race days were a lot less boring since you got to see the cars from the garage, enjoying the full wag experience. 

As the race went on, you couldn’t help but feel anxious and excited at the same time. Lando started from pole (which made you assure him the night before he would get to see the bracelet after the race), but you still had the need to crack your fingers every once in a while. There were only a few laps left, and he had led the entire race so far, and with the gap becoming bigger, you couldn’t contain your excitement.

Once he finally crossed that finish line with a 21-second margin, everyone in the garage cheered and jumped, celebrating Lando’s achievement. A lot of people gathered outside to see him get off the car and celebrate his third win himself, shouting his name and patting him in the helmet to congratulate him.

When it was time for the podium, you decided to go get the finished bracelet you kept in your purse and held it close to your heart, feeling extremely proud of Lando for the amazing race he just had. You couldn't stop the few tears that left your eyes; it made you so happy to see him accomplish his dreams. 

The whole thing was finally over, and you waited for him right there so you could finally express how proud of him you were. 

“Congrats, baby,” you said, hugging him as if you hadn’t seen him in months. “You did amazing.”

“Thank you.” Lando couldn’t erase the big smile off his face as he hugged you back. 

“That’s a cool trophy you got back there.”

“Yeah, I don’t really care about that.” He said, puling away and looking down at you. 

“You don’t?” You asked confused.

“No, I’m still waiting for my real reward.”

“Oh… we can go back to the hotel-”

“No!” He interrupted you, laughing loudly at the fact that your mind went there. “I mean my bracelet, didn’t you say I would get it if I won this race? Well, I did, and now I’m claiming it.”

You laughed, your cheeks burning a bit from embarrassment. “Right, uh- it’s not that great compared to your trophy.”

“I’m sure it’s better than any trophy I could ever get.”

Man, he really knew how to be the sweetest boyfriend in the entire world. You pulled the bracelet out of your pocket, hiding it in your fist before dropping it in his hands. 

The colours were the first thing that caught his attention. Fluoro green and black beads. He inspected these first, until he got to the little letters that read ‘MY WINNER’. He almost couldn’t contain his tears; he was so endeared by you and how much you supported his passion.

“I love it,” he whispered, lifting you up and kissing you emotionally before putting you back down and sliding the bracelet in his wrist, admiring the way it looked there. “Thank you.”

“See? I told you you would get to see it today.”

“It must be a lucky bracelet, then. I’m never taking it off.”

You giggled at this, loving how Lando reacted to the bracelet you made with much love, but you still thought he was just messing with you. “You must be tired.” You teased him.

“Mhm. Now, about my other reward-”

“Oh my God.” You rolled your eyes as you let out a loud laugh, holding his hand as you made your way to the car.

[strnilolover]

⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚ Daddy’s Home ⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 .˚

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

♫ Hey Daddy (Daddy’s Home) • Usher

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

♡ Dad/Dilf!Chris x Mom!Reader

♡ Warnings : smut, unprotected pnv (be careful y’all), hair pulling, pet names (daddy, baby, ma, babe, whore), breeding, degrading, praising, slight spanking, dirty talk?, almost getting caught, aftercare, fluff, I think that’s all?

♡ Wc : tbc

♡ A/N : we all love Dad/Dilf!Matt but like what about Dad/Dilf!Chris? Both men can give me their babies and I would be happy for the rest of my life. Sorry if this is absolute shittt <3

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

Chris was coming home today. Having spent the last few weeks in Boston with his brothers to visit family, leaving you with your five year old daughter Amelia.

You were excited to say the least, and so was the hyper ball of energy who ran around outback with her toys. Having to call Chris every night or every other night to talk was just pure torture, for both you and your daughter. You could tell she missed her daddy dearly, having not really spent so much time away from him.

You smiled as you watched her from the chair you sat on, on the patio. Soaking in the sun as she played on the playground Chris had built for her. “Be careful sweetie!” You called out, watching her small body roughly run across the playground, growing concerned about her hurting herself.

“Okie mommy!” She cheerfully said back, slowing her pace a little as he slid down the slide, repeating the actions. You just shook your head, your heart swelling as you watched how carefree she was.

Just then, you heard a car pull into the drive way, your head snapping toward the fence as you see a figure get out of the car. You smiled widely, knowing exactly who it was. “Amelia, baby. Come here!” You said excitedly, your daughter running to you quickly.

Grabbing her hand you lead her inside, closing the back door behind you as you stood there, now facing the garage door. Your nerves were set on fire, the butterflies growing increasingly in your stomach. Even after all this time with Chris, he never failed to make you nervous.

The door leading into the house opened quickly, Chris walking in with his bags, a huge smile plastered on his face as he spotted his two favorite girls. “Daddy!” Amelia squealed, letting go of your hand to run towards Chris. His arms opening invitingly as he picked her up, spinning her around.

“There’s my favorite girl! How’s my lil bug doin’?” He mumbled as he pressed a kiss to her temple, hugging her tightly. You stood there, watching the way he held her against him, and you smiled as you crossed your arms.

His eyes flicked up, meeting yours as he continued to hold Amelia. You smiled giddily, blush rising to your cheeks as you walked over to them. He smiled in return, putting your daughter down slowly as he bent back up, wrapping his arms around you.

“And here’s my other favorite girl.” he whispered, head lowering to press a kiss to your lips which you happily reciprocated. You melted, arms coming to wrap around his neck as he pulled you closer to him. One you pulled away, you sighed contently, resting your forehead against his. “How’re you doin’ ma?” He asked, his breath tickling your face.

You hummed, “I’m doing better now that you’re home. Missed you so much baby.” You whispered, arms tightening around him more. He returned the act, holding you tighter. “I missed you too.”

“Bleh, that’s gross!” You heard your daughter say from beside you guys, a laugh bubbling out of yours and Chris’ throats. You pulled away, Chris turning his attention to your daughter.

“Mommy and daddy just love each other very much, lil bug.” He said to her. “And I love you even more!” He says as he ran towards her. She squealed, turning and running in the opposite direction as he chased her.

You shook your head, chuckling to yourself as you watched Chris chase her. Picking up his bags he left, you carried them to your bedroom, setting them near the closet for him to deal with later.

-

Dinner was all made, Amelia’s bath was all done and now Chris was tucking her into bed for the night. You could hear the soft giggles of her voice echo down the hall as Chris read her a story and was being his goofy self.

You laid there, night shorts and tank top on your body as the warm covers engulfed you. You could hear Chris close your daughter’s door softly, his feet padding down the hallway coming closer to your room.

The door creaked open softly, his large frame walking through the door way in nothing but his black sweatpants, shirt nowhere to be seen. You’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t turn you on, because it did. You were so touch starved for your husband, those few weeks making it feel like years since you last saw him.

He closed the door behind him, locking it swiftly before he made his way to the bed. Climbing in, he scooted closer to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest.

“I missed you so much ma.” He whispered, his breath hot against your ear as you felt his nose trace the side of your face. You’d shuttered, a smile spreading across your lips. “I missed you so much too — missed having you here with me.” You say, humming softly as his mouth found your neck, peppering it with small kisses.

“Yeah?” He hummed, teeth starting to nip at your skin softly. “Missed having you pressed against me — it was torture not being able to touch you for so long.” He groaned out, his hips pushing forward against your ass. You gasped, your own hips voluntarily pushing back into his.

“Show me how much you missed me.” You whispered. After those words left your mouth, he turned you over, his body hovering over yours as he dipped down to capture your lips in a searing kiss.

You moaned against his mouth, hands reaching up to tangle in his hair as your thighs squeezed together, searching for more friction as you felt your panties grow damp. He nipped your bottom lip, causing a gasp to escape as he slid his tongue in, exploring your mouth as you easily submitted to his movements.

As he continued his assault on your mouth, his hands roamed down, gripping the edge of your tank top and tugging it up your body. Disconnecting your lips briefly so he could pull the fabric over your head, tossing it somewhere in the room as his lips came back down, trailing kisses down your neck and collarbone this time.

Chris kissed between your breasts, making his way to your right one and taking the hardened nub between his lips. He sucked harshly as his hand came to twist your left bud between his fingertips. You moaned, back arching into his touch as pleasure pricked your skin.

He pulled away slightly, hooded eyes looking up into yours. “You need to be quiet ma, can’t have everyone knowing what we’re doin’ hm?” He mumbled as he directed his mouth to your left bud now, lips wrapping around it as his hand tweaked your right one. You nodded desperately in understanding, panting harshly at his ministrations.

He pulled away, lips now kissing down your stomach to the waistband of your shorts as he looked back up at you. Smirking he grabbed them, starting to tug them down. “Lift your hips baby.” He said, and you obliged. Lifting your hips for him to slide your shorts and panties off in one swift motion.

Once your clothing were discarded he leaned down, pressing a few soft kisses to your inner thighs before pulling away, making you whine impatiently. “Shh ma — so impatient.” He spoke out, his frame crawling off the bed momentarily as he shuffled his sweatpants and boxers down his legs. Once his clothes were fully discarded, he climbed back on top of you, smirking as he grabbed your shoulder and flipped you over.

He grabbed your hips, pulling them high in the air as a hand pushed on your lower back, causing you to arch impossibly. He groaned at the sight in front of him, “god you’re so beautiful baby.” He said breathlessly, a hand coming down to swipe through your wet folds, eliciting a moan from you, your hips pushing into his hand.

“Ah — such a desperate little whore. Did you miss my cock baby, hm?” He asked, his hand pulling away, grip tightening on your waist. “S-so much, missed your cock so much.” You whined out. He just chuckled, his hand gripping his cock and stroking a few times before he lined up to your entrance.

Your hips swayed slightly, feeling his tip push against your entrance. His hips snapped forward without warning, a loud moan reverberating through your chest, eyes rolling back. Chris’ hand grabbed your hair, tugging it out of the pillow you had subconsciously pushed your face in. He tugged your head up, his other hand coming forward to shove two of his fingers into your mouth.

“I said to be quiet yeah? Such a fucking whore.” He gritted through his teeth as his hips continued to snap relentlessly into your own. “M’sorry daddy!” You whined out, the words muffled around his fingers. Your hands gripping the sheets below you.

“Mhm I bet you are. I bet you’re loving this hm?” He said, angling his hips to push deeper into you. “Missed my cock so much that you just have to let everyone know.” He groaned as he felt you clench around him.

You just whined, his hand letting go of your hair and fingers leaving your mouth. Causing your body to drop against the mattress, face burying back into the pillow. His hands found purchase on your hips again, slamming into you roughly. You suddenly felt a sting on your ass, Chris’ hand coming down to land a hard smack against it. You whimpered, walls clenching around him again.

“Ah — fuck! B-baby.” You moaned, your hips now pushing back to meet his thrusts. “Doin’ so good ma, takin’ me so well.” He whispered, landing another smack onto your reddening ass, causing you to whine once more.

Incoherent babbles left your lips as Chris’ hips picked up the pace, angling just right to hit that spot deep inside you that had your eyes rolling to the back of your skull. Your walls clenched around him once more, his body leaning forward to plaster his chest against your back.

“You gettin’ close baby? Gonna cum and make a mess on my dick. Go head’ make a mess f’me.” He moaned, teeth nipping your shoulder as you nodded, body shaking.

You felt your insides grow tight, the knot in your stomach pulled until it finally snapped. Your body convulsed, coming around Chris’ dick as his hand came around to rub your swollen clit. He growled at the feeling, helping you through your high as high pitched moans left your lips, sounding like music to his ears.

He lifted his chest back up, gripping your hips tightly once more as he began to chase his own high. “m’gonna cum in this pussy, give you another baby yeah?” He growled as he plowed into you, and you nodded, your body tilting on the edge of overstimulation.

With a final thrust, he buried himself deep inside you, groaning as he released thick ropes of his cum, painting your walls white. You moaned at the feeling, pushing your hips into him as you felt so full.

You guys stayed like that for a moment, regaining your composure until you felt him slowly begin to slip out of you. You hissed, already feeling empty now that he wasn’t inside you. Your body collapsed against the bed, the feeling of his cum and your juices dripping down your thighs.

Chris laid next to you, panting softly as he turned you toward him, pulling you into his sweaty chest. “You okay love? You with me?” He asked softly, pressing light kisses to your head. You hummed, burying your face into his chest.

“Baby?” He asked once more, and this time you lifted your head. Your hooded eyes looking into his own as you nodded. “M’okay, I’m with you. That was — amazing.” You said breathlessly, your own breath coming out in soft pants. He smiled down at you, pecking your lips. “Wasn’t too rough?” He asked and you just shook your head.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear a knock on your bedroom door. Your body immediately shooting up, eyes wide darting to Chris’. You scrambled for the blanket, covering your body as Chris slipped out of bed, grabbing his clothes and slipping them back on as he made his way to the door.

You watched as he opened it, your room too dark for anyone to notice you may have been awake. “Daddy?” Your daughter whispered out, a hint of sadness layered in her voice.

“Hey bug, what’s wrong sweetie?” Chris asked, kneeling down in front of her and pulling her into a hug. “M-mommy sounded hurt… is she okay?” She sniffled softly, and your faced heated. Chris nodded his head, scooping Amelia up into his arms and carried her down the hall. You could hear his faint voice.

“Mommy is okay bug, she was just having a nightmare. She’s okay, I promise.” He whispered. “Pinky promise?” Amelia’s muffled voice asked. Chris’ own voice replying in return, “pinky promise.”

After ten minutes or so, Chris came back. Closing the door once more behind him as he climbed into bed next to your naked body. He smirked as he pulled you to him, “you and that mouth sure know how to make someone worry.” He chuckled mockingly.

You smacked his arm lightly, “it was your fault!” You whisper-shouted to him, but laughed in return. “Mhm, you loved it.” He retaliated, pressing a kiss to your lips. And he was right, you did love it. But, now your child might just be scarred for the rest of her life.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “you know I did, now help me clean up please?” You asked, and he nodded, slipping away into the bathroom connected to your room. Hearing the water run then shut off, he came back out with a warm rag.

He walks back over to you, slowly turning you over as he takes the rag to your inner thighs, wiping softly. He made his way up your thighs, finally reaching your core as he wiped gently there too. You hissed softly at the feeling, but were grateful for his help.

Once he was done, he threw the rag into the laundry basket, grabbing a shirt of his on the way back to you once more. He helped you sit up, slipping his shirt over your head and then climbing back into bed with you. You snuggled into his chest, bodies tangled with one another as you both drifted peacefully to sleep.

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

© Strnilolover

⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🐾ɞ˚‧

♡ A/N : this is absolute shit, sorry y’all. I’ll add the word count later…I need to get better at my smut cause I feel like this was rushed LOL.

[fastandcarlos]

Breakfast Surprise : ̗̀➛ Sebastian Vettel

summary: even after retirement, sebastian is as busy as ever, so you're there to give him a treat to remind him to take care of himself

It was frantic to say the least as Sebastian rushed around the house, throwing all the things he needed into his bag. You’d never known it in all your years together, but as Sebastian missed his alarm, he was left in a panic trying to make sure he got to the paddock on time. 

You were little help as Sebastian tried to pack his bag, deciding to leave the room and give him some space. Instead, you headed into the kitchen of the apartment that you were renting, deciding to look through the cupboards and see what you could find. 

It didn’t take long before you had a plan in mind, knowing exactly what you wanted to do. Sebastian was completely unaware of what you were doing as you got busy, leaving him to go through his usual steps, just at a much quicker pace than usual. 

In amongst the panic, the one thing you knew Sebastian wouldn’t think about was breakfast, the one thing you knew his team would be keen for him to remember though. 

Every so often you could hear him groan as he forgot something, trying his best to get sorted as quickly as possible. As he was done, he walked out of the bedroom, humming in surprise as he walked through to be greeted by the smell of something delicious. 

Intrigue got the better of Sebastian as he walked through into the kitchen to see you stood by the oven busying yourself. Sebastian crept over in your direction, placing his hands on your waist and resting his head on your shoulder to see what you were doing. 

“Is this breakfast?” 

“No, it’s tea for tonight,” you sarcastically responded, watching as Sebastian’s eyes rolled. He pressed a kiss to your cheek before taking a seat on one of the stools. “You know what they say, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” 

An appreciative smile appeared on Sebastian’s face as he allowed himself to relax for the first time that day. You placed a plate in front of him as you began to dish up the pancakes that you had made, pancakes you were sure even Carlos would be proud of. 

Sebastian couldn’t believe his eyes as he took in what you had done for him, studying you closely as you carefully placed some pancakes on his plate. There were a few items for toppings lying around that you placed on the table, adding to the sweetness for you both. 

“This is beautiful,” Sebastian smiled as he picked up his knife and fork, cutting off a piece and popping it into his mouth. “You know I think my trainer would have something to say if he knew that I was eating pancakes for breakfast today.” 

“It’s a good job you don’t race anymore then,” you teased. 

Even though he wasn’t racing, Sebastian still had his duties to fulfil at the paddock. It was something you had done for many years, trying your best to make life as easy as possible for Sebastian, doing little things when you could to help him out. 

“You still need to eat, and I know exactly what you’re like,” you laughed, taking a seat next to him. “If you’re running late the first thing you always forget is breakfast, but you need to make sure that you’re eating properly still.” 

“You’re the best,” Sebastian sweetly smiled, nudging himself against your side. “It means a lot to me how amazing of a job you do of taking care of me.” 

You never failed to take Sebastian by surprise with your kind gestures and concern. He was all prepared to rush out of the door with nothing, but once again you were there to step in and make sure that he actually took care of himself. 

“It’s nice to be able to spend a little more time with you in the mornings these days,” you whispered, hearing several hums of delight beside you as Sebastian kept eating. “I remember the days that I got about five minutes with you if I was lucky.” 

“This is why I retired, for you, for our family,” Sebastian reminded you, leaning over and kissing against your cheek. “These are the moments that I felt like I missed out on for so many years, but now I get to savour them.” 

Your smile was wide as Sebastian grinned brightly across at you too. “It’s only breakfast, with my cooking, I’d hardly say it’s something special anyway.” 

It wasn’t much to you, but it was everything to Sebastian. All the little things added up to create those bigger moments, it was those little things that reminded him every single day just how lucky he was to have someone as caring as you in his life. 

“It’s amazing,” Sebastian assured you, tucking in once again. 

There was a comfortable silence between the two of you as you finished off, murmurs of conversation appearing every so often. Sebastian especially making sure he ate every last crumb, making the most of it. Despite being in a rush, he still wanted to make the most of such a good breakfast, even finding the time to eat the leftovers that you had on your plate too. 

“Finished?” You smiled as you picked up your plate, reaching across to pick up Sebastian’s too, only for him to keep it in his hands. Your eyebrows knitted together as he chuckled, standing up with his plate in his own hands instead. 

Before you could protest Sebastian took your plate out of your hands too and walked over to the sink. A sigh came from you as you realised what it was that he was doing, noticing the smug smile that was on his face too as he got away with it. 

You turned your attentions to the table, picking up the other items and putting them back where they were, settling beside Sebastian once you were finished. 

“You cooked, the least I could do was wash up,” he smirked, poking the tip of your nose with his finger, leaving plenty of bubbles there to annoy you. 

Your eyes rolled as you swatted him away. “You need to get to the paddock before you get told off, leave all of that and I’ll sort it out.” 

“I’ve got time,” Sebastian insisted, refusing to let you budge him out the way. “It’s the least that I can do anyway considering what you’ve just done for me. You go and relax for a bit, get yourself sorted for the day ahead.” 

Your hands brushed through Sebastian’s hair as he encouraged you to leave things for him to sort out, wanting you to spend a bit of time for yourself too. 

“Go away,” Sebastian laughed as you stayed glued to his side, moving your hands down to rest against his hips. “I know you’re worrying about me but I’m alright, and I’ll be on time. Take some time and get yourself ready, you’ve got to live up to that reputation of being the hottest partner in the paddock too.” 

A chuckle quickly came from you, “am I allowed to still claim that title considering the fact that you’ve retired now?” 

“In my eyes, no one will even come close to taking that from you.” 

“You’re so smooth Vettel.” 

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[alchemistc]

Tommy slumps further into the couch cushions, and the looks Eddie gives him is - dire, really. Tommy sort of wants to get shit faced and cry a little while cradling this throw pillow - the same one Evan had smacked him with a week ago while they crowded Eddie's too-small couch and Tommy had made fun of Evan for not knowing a single player on the Dodgers.

("You're actively rooting against them, why do you care if I know who they are?"

"Know thy enemy, Buckley," was Eddie's immediate response, and Evan had swung the pillow when he caught Tommy and Eddie fist bumping out of the corner of his eye.)

"Pretty sure it's actually cheating to come to me," Eddie intones, but he's already up and moving towards the cabinet where he keeps the good whiskey.

He settles into the recliner and gestures with the bottle, a very clear 'go on' in his expression.

Tommy thinks about maybe just - drowning himself in spirits and hiding under a rock for the rest of his life.

"I asked Evan to move in with me."

Eddie's brow kicks up. He purses his lip. Nods. His eyes do something that tells Tommy he is actively biting down on whatever it is he's thinking.

"And...you...fought. You fought about Buck ... moving in."

(Six months is such a short time, really. They've just leapt every other milestone like it's their damn job, and - Christ, they'd had keys to each other's places in weeks.)

Tommy narrows his eyes. "You know something."

"Yeah, and that's why this," he gestures vaguely in the direction of Tommy, fully pouting on his couch and commandeering too large a surface area for Eddie to actually join him there, "is cheating."

Tommy would love to point out that he just doesn't have a shit ton of friends willing to listen to him bitch about an argument he's trying to figure out without fucking imploding the whole goddamn thing. He'd love to point out that he and Eddie have already set these boundaries and Tommy is aware he's pushing it.

Tommy tilts his head against the back of the couch and stares at the ceiling. "Well if we can't talk about it, at least get me drunk."

Eddie hands him a shot glass and stands to go grab them both beers.

---

"So the thing is," Tommy says, slumped against Eddie's side and gesturing in front of himself. His hands are - they're a little blurry. Thank God he isn't on call. "The thing is."

He's got a hangnail that's been driving him nuts for weeks. He's already got a layout in his head for how to make Evan's wardrobe fit in his closet. Half of Evan's kitchen lives in Tommy's already, and he'd - he'd been sure they were in the same page.

"The thing?" Eddie asks, and - Christ, it's not like Eddie's having an easy time with any of the - anything. He's definitely overindulged right along with Tommy. Thank fuck they're not maudlin drunks, just what they need is two PTSD riddled idiots filled up with liquor and bemoaning their lives.

"What thing?"

"The thing, Tommy."

Right. The thing. "I love him," Tommy says, and Eddie's eyes go wide like he doesn't already know this. But Tommy - Tommy's said it in range of Eddie's hearing, right? He's - he's said it.

(The lone braincell shared between them whispers that Tommy has said it, once, to the curls atop Evan's sweaty head while Evan was still passed out on his chest. Fuck braincells.)

"Uhuh."

"What uhuh?"

You don't ask someone to move in with you when you still haven't worked up the courage to say I love you to someone's face, is the thing. And Evan's said it - happy and carefree and open even when Tommy just kissed him to distract him from Tommy not saying it back. He has to know, right? Tommy's said it in every other way he knows how.

"Listen, bro code broken, man, Buck's fucking terrified to mess this up with you and the whole 'you haven't said the words' has been, like, messing with his head for weeks, dude. And now outta the blue, hey move in with me? He's trying desperately not to assume you did something terrible and are using this to cover it up."

"He told you that?"

Eddie scoffs. He actually says 'pshhh', and rolls his head towards Tommy. "No." He enunciates too much. The 'o' is way too long in that word. It's a two letter word, how did he make it sound like seven syllables?

Tommy wants another shot, but Eddie had clearly not meant for that whiskey to be shared and it'd already been more than half gone when he pulled it out. There's...maybe half an ounce left. Fuck.

"Then how...?"

"I already broke bro code for you, dumbass. Can't you read between the lines?"

"Is this like the couch thing?"

The mindfuck of trying to decipher Eddie and Evan's little shared looks while Evan announced that Tommy's couch was his favorite couch had been -

He's getting off track.

He hasn't said the fucking words. He's in love with the sweetest, kindest, most beautiful, filthiest fucking man he's ever known and he hasn't said the words.

"Hamster wheel," Eddie says sagely, like that means a damn fucking thing, but Tommy's already fumbling for his phone. Texting that is out of the question, and he doesn't want to call while he's... more drunk than he'd care to admit.

Tommy shoves Eddie off his shoulder, and only gets a little spinny when he stands. He's a forty year old man, he can absolutely ask his boyfriend to pick him up from... his boyfriends best friends house and help him sober up so he can have a conversation.

"Water," Tommy says, and Eddie snorts.

"Toooo late."

Tommy feels about five years old when he shoves at Eddie's face before retreating to the kitchen.

---

"Tommy," Evan says, bent low over the couch, and Tommy blinks himself awake, regretting every drop of whiskey he'd drunk last night. He'd - there'd been water. An attempt at typing out a message. A slap fight in Eddie's kitchen when he decided to chow down on the last of the casserole Evan had left behind three days ago. More water.

This couch is way too fucking small for him. He's - he's still got one shoe on, and a blanket crumpled haphazardly over one leg. His head is pounding.

Evan looks - concerned. Maybe still a little annoyed. Fond.

"Ev," he manages, moving to sit up and regretting it when five million bees make a home right there against his frontal lobe. Smoke clears that out, right? He remembers Evan being super fucking proud that that had worked.

Evan holds up a glass of water that Tommy takes gratefully. He doesn't drink it nearly as slowly as he should.

When he's done, Evan stands, and - God his legs are long. Tommy loves those fucking legs - loves the hair that catches against his calluses on his way up towards the promised land, loves the strength behind them when he snaps his hips forward, loves the way they feel all wrapped around him when they're -

"We are not anywhere close to the sort of resolution necessary for that look," Evan says, and Tommy sighs. Because they haven't talked about it. Because they'd yelled and smacked their hands against counters and the explosion had sent them careening off in different directions and Tommy hasn't told him.

"Angry sex can be fun," Tommy wheedles, a little unnecessarily because he doesn't actually want - and on Eddie's couch to boot, which is absolutely not what he's angling for.

"I'm not mad at you," Evan says, and Tommy gives him an unimpressed look. "Okay, I'm mostly just - confused."

Fair enough. Tommy's been confusing. Tommy's been -

Tommy curls a hand around the meat of Evan's calf and tips his head against Evan's thigh. "Can we not do this in Eddie's living room?"

---

He doesn't want to admit that it took Eddie breaking all sorts of friendship rules for Tommy to even grasp the point of Evan freezing the fuck up when Tommy had mentioned his lease. He doesn't want to admit that he's fucking terrified, all the time, about the feelings in his chest that never quite settle, that bubble up at the strangest times because every-fucking-thing reminds him of Evan. He doesn't want to admit that he'd just leapt that hurdle in his mind even though Evan has been very clearly marking every other step with metaphorical (and sometimes literal) sticky notes.

Evan hands him his tea and immediately starts picking at the paper sleeve on his cup of coffee.

"I'm not afraid of losing you," Tommy starts, which is - the opposite of the point he's trying to make, and Evan's grimace tells him it's a bad place to start. "I mean that's not why I asked."

Evan is still grimacing. And that's - Christ, he hadn't even planned it, it was just - he'd been there, digging through Tommy's sock drawer, his shit tumbling out of his overnight bag at the end of the bed and his book on the history of perfume in the bedside table and his crock pot stewing something that smelled heavenly, thirty feet away, and he wanted that always, wanted that forever, wanted more than anything to enjoy all the little moments that came before he spent the money in savings hed been setting aside since successful date number five when he'd wondered if Evan had ever thought about getting married.

"You think I asked out of convenience, right? Your stuff's already there, might as well?"

"I'm not leaving things there on purpose."

"I want you to leave things there on purpose. I want all your things there, on purpose. Even when you move my milk to the fridge door and my sugar stash to the wrong pantry shelf and even when you replace my toothpaste because it doesn't have the right enamel protection."

His lip quirks. That had been a near argument too. Tommy was particular. Tommy didn't do great with change. Evan's changed damn near fucking everything, for Tommy, and he's never been more grateful for a single thing in his fucking life.

Tommy curls a finger around Evan's wrist, and his gaze darts up through his lashes. They're long, and distracting, and Tommy wouldn't mind shoving this disagreement to the side so he can brush his lips across the paper thin lids of his eyes, but -

"I missed some steps, getting there," Tommy admits, and Evan bites his lip like he's trying to hide a smile.

"My fault, a bit. I - I could see why you might have just assumed we were scaling 'em two at a time."

"Evan," he says, and breathes a sigh of relief when his free hand darts out to smooth the veins on the back of Tommy's hand.

"Next week is six months," he says, like Tommy doesn't fucking know that, and his thumb sweeps over Tommy's knuckles. "So, i -if you have anything you wanna say before then, you got a week before you can ask me again."

(Six months is the blink of an eye, actually, but Tommy hates every blink that doesn't include Evan in it.)

"You got plans?" Tommy asks, and Evan's face pinkens.

"If you're lucky I'll even tell you them."

"It's a date."

[bomber-grl]

Deku Dating hc!! ୨ৎ

Pairing(s): Izuku Midoriya x Gn!Reader

Creds ~ first divider: @/khaer 2nd divider: @/strangergraphics-archive Art: @/xuune/kaiihuna or @/_kaiihua on twt

HE IS SO FLUSTERED OMG

Not even an exaggeration, the moment you confessed it was like blud went into cardiac arrest

Once he regained his wits he reciprocated your feelings all in a couple of stutters and accidental muttering

How charming

All sarcasm aside, it really is endearing

Yknow how most of the people in class 1-A are unnecessarily weirded out by his muttering

Plus how Deku is more often than not, called names by his own fandom 💀

Well he thinks that way about himself too

Sure you get along more than just fine but seeing him apologize for being more than a little nerdy is shocking to say the least

I mean if anything his “weird” and nerdy self is literally part of his charm and you make this known

Reread that first bullet point for a hint to how he reacted to you telling him that

Anyway

It’s likely you guys met at UA

I mean it’s where he’s made the most friends at (if any) and the only reason he talked to you was either it was inevitable or he absolutely fan boy-ed over your quirk

If you guys had some sort of romantic connotation and you had to fight against each other in the sports festival he’d be pretty conflicted

Although, you’d probably not want him to hold back

If anything he’s just sorry about the whole ordeal 😭

As a boyfriend Deku is shy(?)

I mean just look at how he reacted to technically a none romantic gesture and just interaction - he’s definitely going to be flustered for the majority of you two hanging out

Overall he’s really sweet

Like genuinely it’s surprising that he’s never actually been with someone in a real relationship before

If you disagree… look at him in the beginning of the anime 😭💀)

At most he was probably jokingly asked out or asked out on a dare in the past

I do think that hero life would sort of interfere with romantic relations for you both(assuming ur attending UA)

So there’s times where meeting up or just hanging out would be difficult

But when you two can hang out- it’s really nice

You’re either going to fast food restaurants, going shopping or doing anything really-

These outings are similar in the fact that they all often end in you both fighting some villian 😭

There is this one instance where before the dorms were introduced- you and Izuku had stayed to train or clean- whatever it was at school

He got a call from inko and upon finding out you (someone he does nothing but yap about to her) were around, well, she figured she’d invite you for dinner

Queue you finally meeting Inko and if you’re nervous and want to get a gift of some kind Izuku is kind of laughing but also happy that you want to “impress” her

Even though she loves you already

When you meet inko, she’s is buzzing with as much nervous energy as Izuku is

Funny how similar they are

The dinner goes smoothly and if anything she just approves of you more

Now eventually dorms get introduced and so does sneaking around

Don’t tell me no one in class 1-a wouldn’t sneak around- they’re high schoolers and you can’t tell me they wouldn’t just want to have stereotypical sleepovers

Among those who would sneak around is you

Izuku is less likely to because he’s a bit shy and if he’s ever caught- God kill him now 😭

So ofc you end up sneaking to his room

Which sorta backfires because he loves all might and all might is just staring at you in every direction you look.

The merch is just too excessive

Even then, a sleepover is too much for him and in Izuku fashion- he gets flustered

It takes awhile for him to chill 😭

Holding hands? In the hall way?

If you manage to hold hands for 5 seconds before Iida or Bakugo mention it then you’ve got a personal best!

(Iida because he says no PDA, and bakugo cuz him and his big ass mouth always got something to say)

——————

A/n: hope u liked! ^^

[cherib3lla]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 ; 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎

warnings — not proofread :( pet names (baby), complete fluff !!

a/n — this is my first fluff fic/blurb so please give me feedback !! i’ve also seen many fics/blurbs like this so credit to the people who have made story’s like this <33 enjoy!

Chris and Matt had been streaming for more than three hours. Ever since Nick had gone on tour with Madison they've been streaming an insane amount. Not that anyone was complaining. The fans loved it.

They typically streamed until late at night. Starting around six or seven o'clock and not ending until at least ten. Even sometimes streaming twice in one night.

You streamed with them for an hour or two. Playing different games with them until you eventually get tired. That's what led you here, sleeping in Chris’ bed while he and Matt played Fortnite.

This was the second stream of the night. You had fallen asleep somewhere in between streams. Chris and Matt started playing Fortnite for the third time that night while you slept.

Everyone knew how mad that game made them. It was unavoidable. Screaming, banging, and chair throwing surrounded the house. To you, it was never that serious. Just a stupid game that they liked to play.

You were wrapped comfortably in Chris’ blankets. Head between two pillows to try and muffle the sound of everything around you. To be frank, it didn't work at all.

“WHAT THE FUCK MATT. GET OVER HERE.” Chris yelled at the screen. Matt yelled back, you could hear him from upstairs. “THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT CHRIS!”

You slowly open your eyes, accepting defeat. You are still in Chris’ bed, out of frame. You sit up with a huff, hair messy, and lips puffy. You wrap the blanket around yourself, get out of bed, and walk over to where Chris is sitting at his desk.

“MY FAULT? YOURE THE ONE WHO-” he gets cut off by your soft hand on his shoulder, tapping gently to get his attention.

“Chris, please come to bed it's almost — three am,” you state as you look in the bottom right corner of his computer. Unbeknownst to the two of you the chat was speeding by with ‘hi’s and ‘good morning’s directed to you.

“I'm sorry — did I wake you?” Chris replys. You wanted to make a snippy comment and say ‘Yeah no shit’, but you didn't. Too tired to really say anything anymore. But you did anyway.

“Yes, now can you please come to bed? It's almost three,” you repeat. “Of course baby — go lay back down I'll be there in a second!”

He leans up to peck your lips. You dodge it playfully and turn to walk back to his bed. His jaw drops. Ha couldn't believe you just did that in front of thousands of people.

‘Damn’ ‘LMAOOO CHRIS GOT REJECTED’ fills the chat. He turns back to the computer, saying bye to the stream and Matt. “Bye, guys! Love you all” he throws up a peace sign, logs off the discord, and turns off his computer.

He spins his chair around to see you under the blankets with your phone in hand. He walks over to you, gets under the covers, and pulls you against his chest. “I missed you baby,” he says through a yawn.

“Chris I was literally two fe-” he cuts you off with shushing noises.

“Shhhh — you're way too far away. Now go to sleep”

a/n — hiii, i hope you guys enjoyed!! this is super short but i hope it succeeded your expectations.

tag list — @sturniolos--girl-deactivated202 @m0r94n @lovesodakid @sweetreliever @emssturniolo @slxtformatt @prettylameusertbh @conspiracy-ash @probablyoutyappingorsomething @sturniolosandmoree @https-roman @hoeforchrizz @hvlplvss @idontcare4urmom @submattenthusiast

[writingmeraki]

unsaid, unkept, ugly emotions [ i ]

⤷ ( f1 scenarios ! )

❝ in which, the uglier side of feeling too much getting more messier than it already is for both parties involved.

(or in which for different reasons, it just seems you aren't meant to be.)

feat. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, oscar piastri. genre : angst, no comfort. ( for now ) warnings : cussing, messy, contemplation, arguments, miserable people, miscommunication, everyone gets hurt, a lot of unspoken feelings, like emphasis on that you may get annoyed.

pt 2 will include max, daniel, lewis and george !

[ w.c : 3.1k ]

CHARLES LECLERC.

He was off limits.

From the moment you knew your best friend, Alisa, had a crush on him, he was not supposed to ever be in your radar of romantic boundaries as per the rules of being a best friend. 

Seeing her going crazy for a boy like him at first really made you question if there was something wrong with you because you just couldn’t quite see it.

Sure he quite literally looked like a prince and had a very fitting accent.

Sure he had adorable dimples that made him look less intimidating than you thought he initially was.

Eyes so green you think you could spot an entire forest in them and they twinkled ever so brightly when the sun hit them.

Sure he was also the frat president as well as the captain of the soccer team making you wonder how he was able to still balance getting great grades.

Well. There was a slight possibility you could see what others saw. 

Maybe even more when the time you tried to play wingman for Alisa at a party where you lost her because apparently she was looking for him but said guy turned up right beside you as you were contemplating on what would least likely not kill your liver if you had it resulting in having conversations about cars ( you don’t even know ) and him trying to convince (gaslight) you into Formula One being one of the greatest sports of all time. 

You didn’t get convinced but for the time it felt right to agree to what he said if it meant those adorable dimples would show up when you did. 

You were so screwed. 

Another thing Charles Leclerc had was a great memory, because he seemed to remember you when he saw you walking down the hallway with Alisa as he smiled so widely at you in greeting. 

“Haha yeah hey! um…This is Alisa by the way! Alisa, Charles.” You had to nudge her to snap out of her daze and she extended her hand in greeting as he politely shook her hand. 

“That reminds me, I forgot to ask you last night but uh can I have your-”

“Oh would you look at that! We’re getting late for class! I’m so sorry Charles, we’ll have to leave!” 

That moment you think you were so going to hell when you saw how quickly his smile fell and how his sparkly eyes dimmed down because it felt like you committed a sin then and there. You think you saved yourself from committing a sin but it didn’t feel less dreadful as you grabbed her hand and rushed as quickly as you could.

In the opposite direction of where your class was.

“WHAT WAS THAT-”

“Listen- when you were looking for him last night- I swear I don’t know how but he was right where I ended up sitting and he-well, we talked I suppose-?”

Her eyes widened at your words and you raised your hands in surrender, 

“I promise I didn’t even know when he showed up, I tried to message you and even find you but you seemed gone until the moment we were leaving.”

“Plus the reason I didn’t tell you last night was I was tired! I was here trying to play wingman while the person in love was seemingly gone-”

She sighed and nodded at you, “You don’t have to explain, I know he’s not your type, you made that clear a lot of times actually it’s kinda hilarious.” She giggled as she recalled the countless times you chastised her for daydreaming about him. But now, you couldn’t stop the stupid tinge of bitterness in your heart.

Right. Not my type. 

Suddenly her eyes widened as an idea struck her, “That’s it! He was gonna ask for your number right? You can try and set me up then!”

“I well- I don’t know-”

“Please! You know how I have been trying to get to know him even.”

You didn’t want to say it then but you thought about how trying meant actually doing something rather than just gazing from afar. At least become friends with him was the words you told her countless times but she paid no heed, retorting how it was not that easy.

But it was easy because what’s the worst that could happen? Him having a partner? So it wasn’t the end of the world, others existed! 

Too bad you were easy to persuade, questionably easy because all it took were her doe eyes pleading at you to agree.

“Fine- I’ll try- but no promises.”

As she hugged you and squealed words of gratefulness to you, you couldn’t quite put a finger on it then but, 

You didn’t understand why it felt a part of you couldn’t seem to share the same happiness, conceivably a lingering dread there that knew something was surely going to go wrong.

CARLOS SAINZ.

Everytime Carlos Sainz had the ever so unfortunate ( according to him ) time to exist in the same room as you, it seemed like an impending doom for him. 

His heart felt weird, his stomach dropped, his throat parched.

He hated it. 

He was an individual who knew what they wanted in life. Never unsure nor second guessing, always able to classify their emotions in proper ways. Systematic is the right word. Able to know what exactly he wants to do in his career, how to behave with his friends, when to be serious and when to have ‘fun’. 

So what happens when you completely throw him off the rocks with your mere existence?

He hates you. That’s how he tags the emotions he feels when he sees you and what does hatred sprout? Indifference. 

Too many questions asked but it’s what Carlos declares. 

Though, he thinks the first mistake is to think he’d be able to avoid you considering the fact that you were his best friend/roommate’s good friend. Meaning you spent around twenty to twenty two hours at their place (Yes he counted) and he absolutely hated it.

He hated how your giggles would ring out in the entire apartment when Charles said a half-assed joke, it literally made his chest feel uneasy. He hated how your eyes would always twinkle when you would be talking to Charles, it made his stomach drop and sigh in disbelief. 

Was Charles that oblivious to how much you liked him?

Now this was a question that made Carlos almost throw up. Odd.

“You know if you don’t make a move, he won’t even know right? I know you think he’s one of the smartest but in the romance field, I think even fucking Max beats him at that!”

Or perhaps Carlos was just very oblivious to how much you liked him. 

You shook your head at Charles’ words as you both walked up to his apartment, the butterflies in your stomach already churning at the thought that Carlos was likely home. 

“And also it’s getting concerning how much time you spend in my apartment for the sake of him, like at this point just move in you creep—HEY!Ow!— that hurt you ass!”

“It’s not that easy,he’s – he’s Carlos–for God’s sake!”

“That’s exactly why it’s easy! It’s Carlos! Be direct with him. I’ve known him for years and trust me, he won’t know until you spit it out to him!”

Maybe…maybe he was right. Afterall he had been friends with Carlos before even knowing you.

“What if he doesn’t even feel the same–”

“Be serious. He literally looks like a lovesick fool when you’re over–”

“Maybe he’s just sick of me coming over.”

Charles stopped walking and you didn’t even realize until you were a few steps ahead. Pausing when you finally saw he wasn’t beside you.

His expression was like he was close to ripping out his hair from frustration while also being flabbergasted. It was kinda hilarious and you had to gulp to prevent laughing because you were sure he might just kill you.

“Okay! Okay, fine– I'll listen to you– maybe not confess today! But I'll ask if we can hangout or something,happy?”

“Very.” 

You rolled your eyes at his words as you both began climbing up the stairs, telling him to shush with his teasing as the tips of your ears began to feel warm and the blood rushed to your cheeks with every scenario you imagined.

Maybe if you thought that the upcoming scenario would ever occur. it would have hurt less. 

As you waited for him to pull out his keys, you could feel your nerves igniting through your skin and your stomach churning. But before he could insert the key, the door opened.

You wouldn’t have questioned anything, if it weren’t for the obvious messy hair, hickey marks trailing down her exposed neck and of course, the star of your daydreams right behind her, standing with a surprised face.

It was obvious what had occurred, the confirmation lying in the bruises on his neck. 

“Woah–uh.” Charles stuttered awkwardly, and you could feel his sympathy as he glanced at you. You couldn’t think of anything else other than how…right you were and how wrong Charles was.

You didn’t know who she was but it wasn’t her fault. Or anyone’s. Maybe yours. So as a weird tension simmered through the air, you looked away from them and just turned to Charles.

And for the first time in his life probably, he was lost. Carlos Sainz was lost because why did he just feel like he committed a crime when he wasn’t even yours anyways?

He hated the way you looked away, not missing the hurt that flashed across your eyes as you realized what he probably was doing. 

You didn’t even notice she’d already left, smiling at Carlos and signing him to call her back, again. Probably not the first time, you thought.

“Uh- I’ll go now, It’s getting late for me anyways,”

You really tried to stop your voice from cracking, the lump in your throat making you want to choke and die then and there. So you just looked at Charles, purposefully ignoring the way he looked at you in sympathy. 

His stare seemed to burn into your side profile. The words on the tip of his tongue, but what? It all felt like a lot but nothing at the same time. Carlos didn’t know what to say. 

Nodding goodbye to Charles and glancing at Carlos, offering a tight lipped smile as you waved, and then without saying anything you turned around. 

Charles frowned. His best friend couldn’t own up to his feelings for you and just when you were about to take a step forward, he somehow ended up fucking it up completely. 

What a mess. 

“Come on, we need to talk.”

Charles said seriously, putting an arm over Carlos’ shoulders, albeit a little forcefully which caused the other boy to almost stumble over. 

It seemed it was now up to him now to sort out this mess and hopefully it doesn’t get worse from here

LANDO NORRIS.

Lando and you were fire and water. Milk and lemons. Politicians and caring for the country’s people- Okay too far perhaps and enough of these metaphors of incompatibility to get a point.

You were sworn enemies. Despised each other in the true forms of hate. You hated him so much for the emotions he rose in you that you couldn’t stand him ruining another poor innocent soul with his devious eyes and cunning smile.

Which was exactly what he was doing with the girl wrapped around his left arm, additionally whispering probably lame jokes that made her giggle as though they were the funniest thing on earth.

Lana Carter was her name, you knew her as a cheerleader due to seeing her during your games and also being somewhat acquainted because as a captain, it was apparently in your duty to know everyone, especially those involved in the sports sector of your university.

You wish you could cross off knowing Lando but alas, him being the captain of the basketball team and the apparent star as well didn’t help in your case. 

“I smell something burning and oh! Would you look at that! It’s an ugly green color too!” Alexa said as she smirked at you, pretending to take a sip of her drink when you directed your glare at her. 

“Fuck. You.” 

“You wish-”

“Oh! Hey cap!” A voice said before you could retort to Alexa you turned to see Oscar smiling at you in greeting. You knew him, of course you knew all of Lando’s little friend group. You frowned at him eyeing him in suspicion. He was Lando’s best friend after all.

“Why the frown?” Alexa snorted as he asked you,his attention going to your best friend before she pointed at him and it was as if he understood and nodded.

“Ohhh, I see what’s the matter now.”

“Someone’s” Coughing very fakely, he added, “Jealous.”

Shutting your eyes, you looked at him with a glare enough to make him shut up on his own but still you added,

“Say that again and I’ll-”

“Already giving death threats huh? Maybe you should really go check up on that stick up your ass.” Of fucking course, now is when he decided to show up.

As though his eyes had not been searching for you the moment he stepped in the party. As though he hadn’t noticed you the moment you did. As though it wasn’t just an elaborate plan to rile you up.

You looked at him and fuck. Fuck he made you so angry with how fucking good he looked despite the conditions of the party. His messy hair and bright eyes being lit up by the colourful lights and even though the lighting was horrible, he somehow looked…so fine and of course the darn smirk on his face. 

“Norris. How nice of you to show up! Just the person I was waiting for!” Your sarcasm could be sensed by those around, Alexa’s attempt at hiding her snort and Oscar’s brows raised not going unnoticed. They looked at each other briefly and a knowing look was exchanged.

Here we go again.

“Aw you were waiting for me darling? Hope I wasn’t too late, just got a little busy you see?”

“Clearly.” You said before thinking, the scowl on your face was visible and the smugness on his face only grew larger.

“Not fond of me with someone else?” You didn’t even notice how both Oscar and Alexa had left, seemingly only Lando and you, in the midst of drunk teenagers and perhaps lovesick ones, perhaps loners. 

He got closer, closer that made you clench your hands that hung on your sides, leaning down.

“Not fond of me with anyone but you?”

It was as though his voice put you in a trance, or maybe it was how his warm breath tickled your neck. And for the first time in a while you thought of what he said, deeper than you would have ever.

You weren’t sure if you liked the answer. Or what it exactly implied too.

“Stay in your limits Norris. Don’t fucking- don’t play this shit with me.” You pushed him away as harshly as you could, even if it felt like your hands burned when you thought of what you did. Purposefully ignoring the look in his eyes. Visible hurt and a frown on his face, you turned around, having enough.

“Don’t come after me. Stay with Lana or whoever, I don’t fucking care.” You don’t know why you said the last sentence. You also don’t want to know why it felt bitter saying it.

With that, you began to walk out, gulping the fresh air that was much needed after being in that suffocating place, suffocating feelings.

As you shut your eyes, you gulped thinking of what you were doing. Why were you so pissed off? 

And maybe you realized, you needed to check on the line that was drawn between Lando and you. Perhaps it’s become too blurry to distinguish it from hatred and love.

OSCAR PIASTRI.

Oscar glowed like the moon solely rose up to soak in his light, like the stars twinkled off his radiance.

Maybe,you just got too close to the sun, enchanted with its brightness, to not realize just how much it could burn you.

He was your sun.

No actually the sun, stars, moon whatever celestial body existed perhaps dimmed down compared to him. 

You think it messed you up completely when you kissed him in that truth or dare game surrounded by your mutual friends. You think about the stolen kisses, never more, just kisses in between the times you’d pass by in the hallways, pulling him in a cramped space and leaving with flushed cheeks and swollen lips. 

Simply put, you were addicted to him. To the way he made you feel. To the way he made you tingle when he kissed you so gently. 

You didn’t want to address the elephant in the room. Or in this case, 

What were you two?

Lando asked when you were sitting down in the same circle, just like the first time you’d kissed each other, with the same people. 

You hesitated and then said, uncharacteristically enthusiasm lacing your voice,

“Friends of course! Don't be ridiculous Lan.”

You didn’t like that word, and it seemed he didn’t either as he looked away, gulping in distaste and a scoff on his face that was usually unnatural for the sunshine like a boy.

Seemingly going unnoticed by you but Lando who asked the question noticed and glanced back at you to see if you noticed. He sighed when he saw you not looking at Oscar but raised an eyebrow as he saw you in a dilemma. 

Right. Friends. Friends who kiss. But still friends…friends?

You tried convincing yourself the rest of that day that adding a label would ruin things. It always does. You should enjoy it while you can, right? It was all in fun?

So why did you feel terribly down when Oscar refused to talk to you for the rest of the day?

“Os?” You asked gently and he sighed exhaustingly as he looked at you,

“Please, please don’t…don’t call me that.”

The look of hurt on your face made him hate himself more because why would anyone like to hurt someone they loved?

Before you opened your mouth to speak, he continued,

“I don't think I can do this anymore, this…whatever this is. I am…sorry.”

And without a chance to ask more questions or give any answers, he turned around and walked away.

This was your fault. You hurt him because you couldn’t admit it to yourself that you…that you loved him. 

You loved him more than the universe, you loved him since the day you saw him. You were just scared you'll lose him like the way you lose all your loved ones. You were scared of risks. You were…a coward.

And now it seemed, it was too late to do anything about it.

a/n : if you have read this before somewhere, it's my own work of svt ( 1 and 2 ) which i have re-written to fit these boys <3 i just thought they would also fit them too and well...let me know what you think ^^

the rest will be uploaded too because i think i will be writing a new one for the others as i don't know if they would fit into the written ones :") pls let me know what you thought of this!!! ( also i cannot make oscar evil or the heartbreaker i just cantt </3 and i know the irony of charles being a soccer captain and well how he plays lmfaoo i just let it be for shits and giggles <3)

i am opening reqs for f1 and taglist for this so let me know if you want to be added cause I do have a lot more planned !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2024

feedback is always appreciated 💌 ! links : main navi ! | f1 masterlist ! | info !

[reidmarieprentiss]

Good Boy

Summary: Based on this post from @reidsdimples ! Spencer is being a brat, you put him in his place.

Pairing: sub!Spencer Reid x Unit Chief fem!reader

Category: smut (18+)

Warnings/Includes: smut (18+) additional warnings under the cut, bratty Spencer, boss/subordinate relationship, mommy kink

Word count: 5.6k

a/n: for you @lovingreaderfangirl <333 this is basically pure smut ,, don't like it don't read it

main masterlist

Additional warnings: sub!spencer, dom!reader, mommy!kink, handjob, edging (male receiving), overstimulation, unprotected PinV (wrap it before you tap it), oral (fem receiving), choking, slapping, slight nursing

You were the unit chief, and while your relationship with your boyfriend, Spencer, usually stayed out of your work life, today was different. Spencer had made a mistake, and to make things worse, he was acting out—whether it was from embarrassment or just a bad attitude, you weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to tolerate it.

"You will go back to that house and do another sweep," you said firmly, not looking up from the open case file on your desk.

Spencer scoffed, crossing his arms in defiance. "That's ridiculous, Y/N! Morgan’s already there," he snapped, his voice sharp.

Your head shot up at his words, your eyes narrowing in disbelief. "Ridiculous?" you repeated, incredulous. "No, Spencer. What's ridiculous is you missing a massive piece of evidence and then standing here arguing with me about it." Your tone dropped, icy and stern. "You will go back to that house and search it from top to bottom. I don’t care if it takes all night. Am I making myself clear?"

Spencer’s eyes flared with frustration, and he bit back, “So, what, you’re punishing me now?”

The edge in his voice wasn’t something you were used to hearing from your usually sweet, thoughtful Spencer. You stood up, moving around your desk with deliberate steps until you were standing close enough to feel the tension between you.

"Are you talking back to me?" you asked, your voice dangerously low, your authority unmistakable. 

Spencer swallowed, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes as he realized how serious you were. He wasn’t used to seeing you like this—so angry, so venomous—but even though he was nervous, his stubbornness kept him from backing down just yet. 

Spencer straightened his posture, though his nerves betrayed him, making his hands fidget at his sides. He'd never seen you this mad before—at least, not directed at him—and he wasn’t sure how to handle it. But he felt too deep in this argument to backpedal now.

"I’m not talking back to you," Spencer muttered, though his tone remained defiant. "I’m just saying Morgan’s already there. There’s no reason for me to go too. We’re wasting time!" His voice escalated again, but it wavered slightly, showing the anxiety bubbling under his frustration.

You were having none of it.

“Wasting time? Is that what you think we’re doing here?” you snapped, each word clipped and precise, your gaze locked onto him with an intensity that made him shift uncomfortably. You were so close now that Spencer could see the tension in your jaw, feel the weight of your authority in the room. You weren’t his girlfriend in this moment—you were his boss, and you were demanding respect.

“Spencer,” your voice dropped, quieter but no less dangerous, “I don’t care how you feel about going back to that house. You missed something crucial, and you need to fix it. You messed up, and you know it. So stop acting like a petulant child and do your damn job.”

The words stung, more than he wanted to admit. His shoulders tensed, and he clenched his fists by his sides, but he couldn’t find the right words to argue back. He was embarrassed—not just because of his mistake, but because he knew you were right. But his pride was wounded, and that was hard to swallow.

"I... I just—" he started, but you cut him off sharply.

“No more excuses, Spencer. You will go to that house, and you will make sure every inch of it has been checked. And if I hear another word of backtalk from you, you’ll be off this case completely. Is that understood?"

Spencer’s breath hitched, his defiance slipping further away with each word you threw at him. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him, and for the first time, he realized just how much he had crossed a line. But he was still too stubborn to admit it.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper, the edge of sarcasm still lingering, but now laced with a thread of defeat.

You stepped even closer, eyes narrowing as you stared him down. "What was that?"

Spencer swallowed hard, realizing he wasn’t in a position to push any further. “I understand,” he said more clearly, his tone softening. He wanted to reach for you, to find some semblance of the warmth he was used to from you, but he knew better. Right now, you weren’t his to reach for.

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the office, leaving behind the tension that lingered like a storm cloud. You stood there for a moment, watching the door swing shut, anger still simmering beneath your skin, but also a twinge of sadness. Spencer had never acted out like that before, and though you knew you had to be stern, it hurt to see him so distant and defiant.

But this was work. Personal feelings would have to wait.

—

However, there was a time and place for personal feelings to come to the surface, and that time was now—in the privacy of your shared apartment with Spencer.

You had gotten home first. Spencer was still out, likely combing through the crime scene after you’d sent him back to fix his earlier mistake. Frustrated by the lingering tension between you two, you huffed your way through your evening routine. You made dinner, though you knew Spencer would probably be too upset to eat when he got home. He could have the leftovers later. After that, you showered and curled up in bed with a book, waiting for him to return.

When Spencer finally came home, his anger was palpable. He slammed the front door behind him, muttering under his breath as he left a trail of clothes through the hallway on his way to the shower. The bathroom door slammed shut as well, echoing through the apartment. You sighed and rolled your eyes—if Spencer thought his attitude would go unaddressed, he was mistaken. He was in for a real punishment tonight.

After what felt like forever, Spencer emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp and towel wrapped loosely around his waist. At least he had the sense to show a hint of submission, you thought.

Without looking up from your book, your voice calm and controlled, you gave your command. "Kneel."

Spencer froze, taken aback by the sudden authority in your tone. He turned his head, his confusion evident. "What?"

You set your book down slowly and fixed him with a steady gaze. "Did you not hear me? Or are you talking back again?" There was a warning in your voice, a promise that you weren’t playing games tonight. "I really don’t want to make your punishment worse, baby."

Spencer hesitated for a brief moment, the weight of the situation settling in, knowing you were in complete control now. He lowered his gaze, the tension between you thick, as he finally obeyed, dropping to his knees.

You stood up from the bed, your movements deliberate as you slowly circled around Spencer, letting your eyes roam over him with a quiet intensity. The soft sound of your bare feet against the floor was the only thing breaking the silence as you took in his posture—tense, but submissive, waiting for what was coming next. 

When you stopped in front of him, you reached down and tilted his chin up with a single finger, forcing him to meet your gaze. His eyes were defiant, even now. You smiled, but it didn’t reach your eyes.

"You know you’re in trouble, right, baby?" you asked, your voice sweet but laced with warning.

Spencer didn’t respond right away; instead, he narrowed his eyes at you, his lips pressed into a thin line, as if testing how far he could push. Without hesitation, you slapped his face lightly, the quick sting enough to make him let out a soft whimper. His eyes widened in surprise, but he still held his ground.

Roughly, you grabbed his cheeks in one hand, squeezing his face so he had no choice but to focus on you. "I asked you a question, brat."

“Yes, Mommy," he mumbled, his voice small and obedient now, the fight in him fading. "I know I’m in trouble."

"Hmm, good," you said, releasing his face with a satisfied hum. You began pacing around him again, like a predator stalking its prey, before stopping just behind him, leaning close enough that your breath tickled his ear. "And why are you in trouble, smart boy?"

Spencer swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. "Because I argued with you. I was disrespectful. I–I acted like a brat."

A smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. "That’s right." You stood up straight again, looking down at him. "And now, you're going to make it up to me, aren’t you?"

Spencer nodded, his face falling into a sad expression, clearly regretting how he had acted earlier. He was always your good boy, and he knew that punishment was rare because he hardly ever misbehaved. The realization of how far he'd pushed you today weighed on him, leaving him feeling small and upset.

"Why are you pouting, baby?" you asked, your tone softening just a touch as you stood in front of him, looking down at his bowed head.

Spencer shrugged, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet your gaze. He shifted uncomfortably, his hands fidgeting slightly in his lap, but still, he said nothing.

"Words, Spencer," you reminded him firmly. "Speak up."

He hesitated for a moment before finally looking up at you, his eyes filled with guilt. "I hate that I disappointed you," he admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I don’t like being punished… you never have to do this. I’m supposed to be your good boy."

You felt a flicker of sympathy for him, knowing how much he valued pleasing you, but you held firm. "Yes, you are supposed to be my good boy," you agreed, leaning down slightly so that your eyes were level with his. "But today, you weren’t. Today, you acted like a bad boy, and now, you have to accept the consequences."

Spencer bit his lip, nodding again, the weight of his actions settling in further. "I know… I’m sorry."

You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, stroking it softly for just a moment before pulling back. "Thank you for apologizing. But you still need to learn."

“Stand up. Don’t keep the towel,” you ordered, your voice cold and almost bored, leaving no room for hesitation. Spencer flinched at the command, the sharp tone slicing through the air as he scrambled to comply. The towel slipped from his body, falling to the floor as he stood there, bare and vulnerable.

“Get on the bed,” you continued, moving with a quiet precision as you retrieved something from the dresser, your back turned to him. “Hands above your head.”

Spencer couldn’t see what you were holding, and that only added to his nervousness. He climbed onto the bed, his heart racing, and stretched his arms above his head, just as you instructed. 

When you finally turned back toward him, he caught sight of the ties and lube in your hands, and his body reacted instantly—a slight twitch of excitement mixed with fear. His breath quickened, but his eyes never left yours. He hated the feeling of being restrained, of not being able to touch you, to feel you close. But there was something intoxicating about the power dynamic, about giving himself over to you completely.

You approached him slowly, deliberately, the ties dangling from your fingers like a silent promise of what was to come. Without saying a word, you moved to the head of the bed, taking his wrists gently but firmly and securing them to the bedposts. Spencer’s chest rose and fell rapidly as the ties tightened around his wrists, his muscles straining, already longing to break free.

His eyes searched yours, desperate for any hint of softness, but he found none. You were in control, and he knew it.

"Mommy," Spencer whimpered softly, his voice barely above a whisper, full of need and desperation.

You glanced down at him, your gaze calm and measured. "Yes, baby?"

His eyes flickered with longing as he whined, "I want to touch you."

A sigh escaped your lips, and you leaned down slightly, your fingers brushing lightly along his arm, teasing but not giving him what he wanted. "I want that too, my love," you murmured, your voice laced with a touch of sympathy, though your expression remained stern. "But I can't give you a reward quite yet."

"Yet?" Spencer perked up, excitement sparking in his eyes, the word like a glimmer of hope he clung to.

You smirked at his eagerness, trailing your hand down his chest in a feather-light touch, just enough to make him squirm. "Yet," you confirmed. "But you'll have to earn it, baby. That means no whining, no more attitude. Understand?"

Spencer nodded eagerly, his eyes wide with anticipation, but you could see the struggle in him—how hard it was for him to hold back, to stay restrained when all he wanted was to feel you. "I’ll be good," he promised, his voice shaky. "Please, I’ll be good."

You smiled, your fingers trailing lower. "We'll see, baby. We'll see."

Spencer squirmed involuntarily as your fingers teased his stomach, his muscles tensing beneath your touch. "Keep still, Spence," you instructed, your voice firm but calm, watching as he took deep, shaky breaths in an attempt to regain control over his body.

His wide eyes followed your every move as you reached for the bottle of lube on the bedside table, and he watched, anticipation building, as you squirted some of its contents into your hand. The cool sensation made his breath hitch the moment your hand wrapped around him, his back arching off the bed instinctively.

Without missing a beat, you placed your other hand on his hips, pressing him back down into the mattress. "Spencer, be good," you warned, your tone leaving no room for disobedience.

His body trembled, caught between the overwhelming sensation and the need to obey you. "I’m trying," he whispered, his voice strained as he fought to stay still, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ties. His chest heaved, desperate to be good for you, but the pleasure was intoxicating, testing his restraint.

You smirked, knowing exactly how far you could push him. "Good boy," you murmured, your hand moving slowly, deliberately, keeping his hips pinned down as he tried not to writhe beneath you, every muscle in his body begging for release, but you weren’t done with him yet. Not even close.

After almost an hour of torture, Spencer was doing everything in his power to follow your rules, his body taut with tension as he tried to stay still beneath your touch. His breath came in ragged gasps, his wrists pulling at the ties as he strained not to buck his hips against you. But you were making it so hard for him—each time your hand changed pace, it sent him spiraling, his mind spinning out of control. You could feel his body tightening, every muscle coiling as he teetered on the edge.

And just when you knew he was close, so close, you let go.

A desperate sound tore from his throat, half whine, half groan, as you pulled your hand away, denying him the release he so desperately craved. His eyes were wide, his chest heaving as he looked up at you, practically begging for mercy.

"Please," he whimpered, his voice cracking under the weight of his desperation. "Please, I want—"

You shushed him gently, running your hand down his chest in a soothing gesture. "Spencer," you said softly but firmly, your eyes locking onto his. "What did I say about being good?"

"I-I’m trying," he gasped, his voice shaky as he fought to hold on. "I’m really trying."

You could see him unraveling, his mind quickly losing grip on any sense of control. And that was exactly where you wanted him.

"Then keep trying, baby," you whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to his chest. "You’ll get what you want when I’m ready to give it to you. Not a moment before."

You sped your hand up, focusing all your attention on the sensitive tip, moving with quick, intense strokes. Spencer's body reacted immediately, his back arching violently off the bed as a scream tore from his chest.

"Mommy! Please!" His voice cracked, high and desperate, tears beginning to stream from his eyes as he lost all composure. "I’m going to come!"

But instead of granting him mercy, you snapped sharply, "No!" The command echoed in the room, and Spencer flinched at your tone. "If you come," you warned, your eyes dark and unwavering, "I’m not stopping."

His breath hitched, and his sobs grew more frantic. He fought to control himself, but the sensation was overwhelming, his mind teetering on the brink of bliss and despair. The threat of what would come if he disobeyed hung heavy in the air, fueling his panic as he tried, with every ounce of strength, to hold back the release his body so desperately craved.

"Please," Spencer sobbed, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face as his entire body trembled beneath your relentless touch. "I-I can’t… I can’t hold on…"

"Yes, you can," you whispered, your voice soft but commanding as you leaned closer. "You will, or you’ll regret it, baby. Be good for me."

He choked out a whimper, his muscles straining, teetering on the edge of breaking as your hand continued its torturous rhythm, and every nerve in his body screamed for release. But you were in control, and Spencer knew there would be no relief until you decided. 

You pressed your palm firmly against the sensitive tip, rubbing harsh circles that sent shockwaves through Spencer’s body. He couldn't hold it any longer—a guttural scream tore from his throat as his orgasm ripped through him, his release spilling across his stomach in hot, frantic bursts.

But there was no mercy in your eyes as you watched him unravel beneath you.

"Oh… bad boy, baby," you tutted softly, your voice laced with both disappointment and a dark edge of amusement. Without missing a beat, you gripped him tightly, continuing your mean, relentless rhythm even as his body spasmed from the intensity.

Spencer writhed beneath you, his sobs louder now as the overstimulation set in, his body too sensitive to handle the unyielding pace of your hand. "Please, please!" he begged, his voice hoarse, his tears mixing with the sweat on his face. "I-I can’t—please stop, I’m sorry!"

But you only leaned in closer, your hand maintaining its punishing rhythm. "I told you, baby," you whispered, your breath hot against his ear, "if you came, I wouldn’t stop. And bad boys don’t get to decide when it’s over."

Spencer whimpered helplessly, his entire body shaking as he endured the overwhelming sensations, unable to escape the torment of your touch. The line between pleasure and pain had long since blurred, leaving him at your mercy. And you weren't done with him yet. 

You suddenly let go of Spencer, pulling your hand away from him. For a brief moment, he thought the torture had finally ended, and he took deep, strained breaths, his chest heaving as tears continued to spill from his eyes. 

"Thank you, Mommy," he whispered, his voice barely audible as he sighed in relief, closing his eyes as if he could finally rest.

But just as he began to relax, his eyes shot open, wide with shock, as he felt you sinking down on top of him, your body enveloping him in an overwhelming rush of sensation. The overstimulation hit him like a bolt of electricity, and his body reacted instantly, thrashing beneath you in a desperate attempt to escape the intensity.

"Mommy!" he cried out, his voice ragged and broken as his body twisted under yours. His muscles tensed, his movements frantic, but there was no escape.

"Shut up," you seethed, your voice low and dangerous as you wrapped your hand around his throat, tightening your grip just enough to still him. His breath hitched, and his panicked eyes met yours. "I’m in charge," you reminded him, the weight of your authority pressing down on him as surely as your body did.

Spencer whimpered beneath your grip, his mind a haze of overstimulation and helplessness, but he knew better than to argue with you. His resistance faded as he realized you weren’t done with him yet—not until you decided.

"Tell me, baby," you panted, your body moving rhythmically as you rode Spencer, chasing your own release with relentless intensity. Every roll of your hips drove him deeper into overstimulation, but you were in control, and you weren’t letting up. "How does it feel?"

Spencer sniffled, his voice shaky and tear-filled. "S-so good, Mommy," he stammered, struggling to hold himself together as his body continued to tremble beneath you.

You laughed, the sound sharp and mean as you continued, "Thought you couldn’t take it." There was a mocking edge to your voice as you rode him harder, the sensation overwhelming his senses. "Were you lying?"

"No!" Spencer cried, his voice breaking as he clung to the edge of his composure. "It—it hurts, Mommy, but I like it!"

"Yes, yes, you do," you taunted, your tone dripping with satisfaction as you gazed down at him, your pathetic, brainless boy. "You like it when Mommy uses you, don’t you?"

"Yes!" he nearly screamed, his body shaking uncontrollably, caught between pain and pleasure. "Please! Just want to be good for you," he sobbed, his desperation palpable as he surrendered completely to your control.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Then be good, baby, and take everything I give you." Your body continued to grind down on him, mercilessly chasing your own release, pushing him further past the point of no return.

By the time you reached your release, Spencer was a wreck beneath you, his body trembling as sobs wracked his chest. He cried out in desperation as your muscles tightened around him, sending him further into an abyss of overstimulation. Each second felt like an eternity for him, trapped between the aching pleasure and the need to obey you.

Just when he thought relief was finally coming, you lifted yourself off of him, hovering just above him, denying him that final push he needed. Spencer’s whine was pitiful, filled with frustration and longing. "Mommy! Please!" he whimpered, his voice cracking as tears continued to stream down his face.

"Please what?" you asked, your tone deliberately condescending as you leaned back, watching him squirm beneath you. "Use your words, dumb baby."

Spencer swallowed hard, his body twitching with anticipation, his mind too clouded to do anything but beg. "Please let me come," he sobbed, his voice raw and desperate. "Please, Mommy."

You smirked, your eyes dark with amusement as you leaned forward just enough to tease him with the possibility of what he wanted. "Hmm… okay, baby," you said, your voice dripping with false sweetness. "But you’re cleaning it up after."

Spencer twitched at your words, his entire body lighting up with excitement at the promise. The thought of finally getting the release he so desperately needed was enough to make him shiver. "Yes, Mommy," he gasped, nodding eagerly as his breath hitched in anticipation, his mind already surrendering completely to your control.

You lowered yourself back down onto Spencer, and his loud, desperate moan filled the room as he watched you take him in again, the sight alone enough to push him closer to the edge. His body was trembling, every nerve on fire as you rode him hard and fast, the intensity of your movements leaving him powerless to do anything but submit. 

His hands tugged against the restraints, his eyes squeezed shut, and with a strangled cry, he found his release, his body jerking as he filled you up. The sensation of you pinching and tugging at his nipples sent him over the edge, his cries growing louder as his body finally gave in completely.

You slowed your pace, riding out the last of his climax, before finally relaxing on top of him, your breath steadying. Spencer lay beneath you, panting and exhausted, his chest heaving as he came down from the overwhelming high.

With a soft sigh, you pulled off him, moving up his body with a deliberate slowness, positioning yourself directly over his face. You looked down at him, your fingers gently brushing through his hair as you smiled wickedly. "Ready to clean up your mess, baby?"

Spencer’s eyes widened, his mouth already watering at the thought, and he nodded eagerly, his voice breathless and submissive. "Yes, Mommy, please," he whispered, his eyes full of adoration as he awaited your command, ready to obey, to please, and to make up for every bit of his earlier defiance.

You lowered yourself onto Spencer's waiting mouth, threading your fingers through his hair as you settled into a steady rhythm, guiding his movements with gentle yet firm pressure. His tongue worked eagerly, desperate to please you, to clean up every bit of the mess he'd made.

“Oh, Spence,” you sighed, your head falling back slightly as you rode his face, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through your body. "Your mouth is so good, baby."

Spencer whimpered in response, his efforts growing more determined with every sound of approval that escaped your lips. You could feel the way he was trying so hard to be good for you, to make you proud, and it only fueled your desire to push him further.

"Making Mommy so proud," you praised, your voice laced with satisfaction as you tugged gently at his hair, controlling his pace. His tongue flicked faster, more desperate to hear those words again, and you couldn't help the soft moans escaping you as you continued to ride his face, letting the sensation build.

With each passing second, Spencer's mouth worked harder, your praise driving him to do anything for you. His whimpers were muffled by your body, but the eagerness in his touch and the way he responded to your every command made it clear—he was willing to do anything to make you proud.

You continued to ride Spencer’s face, your fingers tightening in his hair as you guided him, making sure he stayed exactly where you needed him. His tongue flicked and swirled in all the right places, and the sounds of your pleasure spurred him on, his hands instinctively tugging against the restraints as he longed to touch you, to feel your body against his.

"That’s it, baby," you breathed, your voice a mix of praise and moans as you pressed down harder, your body shivering from the sensations he was creating. "You’re making Mommy feel so good."

Spencer whimpered beneath you, the vibrations of his muffled cries only adding to your pleasure as you ground down onto him, riding his mouth with a newfound urgency. Your hips moved faster, chasing the climax that was building inside you, each stroke of his tongue sending you closer to the edge.

"You like this, don’t you?" you asked, your voice breathless but firm. "You like being my toy, Spence?"

His desperate whimpers were the only answer you needed. You tugged harder at his hair, pulling his face closer, your pace quickening as the pleasure began to overwhelm you. Spencer’s tongue moved in perfect rhythm with your hips, eager to push you to your peak.

As the tension built, you gasped, your body trembling as you felt yourself nearing the brink. "I’m so proud of you, baby," you whispered, your voice strained as you rode out the waves of pleasure. "So proud…"

With a final, desperate grind against his mouth, the climax washed over you, your body convulsing as you cried out, the release crashing through you in waves. Spencer didn't stop, his tongue continuing to work, not wanting you to take away his favorite treat. 

His mouth and tongue continued their relentless work, his eagerness only spurring you on as your cries grew louder. "Oh! Good boy!" you gasped, the praise slipping from your lips as your hips thrust faster against his mouth, riding the wave of pleasure that was building once again.

"You like tasting yourself?" you panted, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts as your body moved with a desperate rhythm. Spencer moaned beneath you, his muffled response sending vibrations through your core, and it only drove you to push harder against him.

"Like it coming out of me?" you taunted, your voice strained and full of need as you felt his tongue lapping eagerly at the mess you had made together. The idea of him cleaning up his own release, desperate to please you, sent shivers down your spine, adding to the already overwhelming sensation.

Spencer whimpered beneath you, his body reacting to your words even as he remained restrained, helpless to do anything but obey. The combination of your command, the praise, and the undeniable power you held over him had him lost in submission, and you could feel the tension building in both of you again.

"Such a good boy," you praised, your voice trembling with the intensity of your pleasure. "So good at doing exactly what Mommy needs." You rode him harder, your body nearing its limit once more as Spencer's tongue worked tirelessly beneath you.

The room was filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, your moans mixing with Spencer's muffled noises as he continued to drive you closer to the edge. Your body trembled uncontrollably, your hips grinding down faster, chasing that final release.

With a breathless cry, your third climax crashed through you, your entire body quivering as Spencer’s tongue carried you over the edge once again. You moaned his name, gripping his hair tightly as you rode out the waves of pleasure, not slowing until every last bit of satisfaction had pulsed through you.

You pulled yourself off of Spencer, and immediately he let out a whine, his lips pouting in protest, not wanting you to take his favorite treat away, he could eat you out for hours. His neediness tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t help but smile as you gently stroked his hair.

"Baby, Mommy is sensitive," you said softly, your voice filled with affection. 

Spencer pouted even more, his eyes big and round as he mumbled, "I just wanna make you feel good."

"You did make me feel so good, baby," you reassured him, your smile widening as you saw his face light up, the joy radiating from his eyes.

"Am I your good boy again?" he asked, his voice tinged with hope and a bit of that endearing vulnerability that always made you melt.

Your heart softened instantly, and you leaned down, cupping his face in your hands as you pressed a tender kiss to his lips. "You’re always my good boy," you whispered against his mouth. "I love you so much."

"I love you too, Mommy," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, eyes full of adoration.

After you untied him, you took your time massaging his arms and wrists, soothing the slight redness left behind by the ties. You helped him into the shower with you, gently guiding him as he leaned heavily against you, still needing your care. The warm water cascaded over both of you as you softly washed his body, your touches gentle and nurturing. Spencer rested his head against your shoulder, completely relying on your strength, his exhaustion clear as he sighed softly, content in your embrace.

Once you were both dried off and dressed for bed, you brought him back to the comfort of your bed, where you massaged lotion into his arms, making sure he felt taken care of. Your lips peppered soft kisses over his skin as you worked, your voice a soothing murmur as you whispered how good he was, how proud you were of him.

"You’re so good, Spencer," you murmured between kisses. "Always my good boy."

Spencer sighed, his body fully relaxed now as he basked in your affection, letting your words and touch wash over him like a warm blanket. His eyes fluttered closed, a small smile playing on his lips as you continued to kiss and praise him, reminding him of just how much he meant to you.

“Mommy…” Spencer’s voice was soft, hesitant, as he lay beside you, his head resting on your chest.

“Mhm?” you murmured back, feeling the weight of tiredness pulling at you, though still present enough to listen to him.

“Can I suck…?” His voice trailed off, filled with uncertainty.

You giggled softly, a wave of affection washing over you for your needy little baby. "Of course, Spence," you murmured, lifting your shirt to give him the comfort he craved.

Without hesitation, Spencer nestled his head underneath, latching onto your breast with a soft sigh. His body relaxed against yours, and you could feel the tension melt away as he suckled gently, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

You stroked his hair lovingly, the intimate moment between you quiet and peaceful. “You’re such a good boy,” you whispered softly, letting him find the comfort he needed as you both slowly drifted off to sleep, his head resting safely against your chest.

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[hazyki]

☆ lights out. ☆

pairing -> dancer!riki x dancer!gn reader

genre → enemies to lovers, fluff, mild angst (they have a little fight), an attempt at humour

word count → 4.5k

synopsis → after a power outage during a storm, you and riki are stuck in the dance studio together

warnings → very very slight profanity

extra→ jay and heeseung cameo at the end :)

Nishimura Riki.

2005 liner, Japanese-born and raised, 183 centimeters tall, and one of the best dancers you’d ever seen.

You hated him.

It wasn’t a surface level hatred, either. It was that deep, gnawing kind that crept up your spine every time he walked into the studio with that stupid infuriatingly perfect posture, head held high like he owned the place. It didn’t help that he actually kind of did.

Riki was always the best in the room, no matter where you were. Dance practice, competitions, even the casual workshops you’d attended; he was there, always a step ahead, always landing the moves with a flawless ease that made your blood boil. Every pirouette, every sharp turn, every damn leap seemed to come to him naturally, like the universe itself conspired to make him perfect. And the worst part? He knew it.

There was something about the way he moved that felt like he was challenging you, as if he was daring you to try and keep up. You always did. Or at least, you’d try; but every time it felt like you were falling just a hair short. Every mistake you made, every moment where your timing was slightly off or your footwork simply wasn’t sharp enough, he’d catch it. He would pester you about even the smallest details, plaguing you with advice you didn’t need. You’d always respond passively, attempting (though failing) to keep in your scowl when you’d realize how helpful his advice truly was. You hated it. Because upon seeing you improve, he’d give you that smug, cocky smirk, eyes barely flicking in your direction like he didn’t even need to try. Like he was just naturally better.

You despised it. Despised him.

So when the two of you got paired up for this competition, it was like some cruel joke the universe was playing on you. Of all the people they could’ve chosen, it had to be him. Soon enough you’d have to be on stage with hundreds of people with him by your side, demonstrating the stark difference in moves. You’re a good dancer; you know it. But next to him, you might as well quit.

Now after weeks of grueling rehearsals, late nights, sore muscles, and frustration simmering beneath the surface, you were stuck here with him, in an empty studio, after the final run through.

"Okay, from the top." Riki exclaimed through labored breaths, his hand doing impatient circles in the air, not even giving you a second to catch your own.

You stood there, hands braced on your knees, your chest heaving as sweat dripped down your forehead and splattered onto the floor. You stared at him, bewildered. Was he serious?

“Again?” Your voice came out steady, but it was laced with resentment, the weight of your frustration compressed into that one simple word. You tried not to let it show or make the thick tension in the air even worse than it already was.

Riki didn’t bother responding. He simply grabbed his towel from the front of the room, wiping the sweat off his face before tossing it aside and walking back to the center of the studio. He didn’t even look at you, just moved into position, waiting for you to follow like this was all some sort of routine for him.

But you couldn’t. You didn’t. You just stood there, staring at him, still trying to process how he could possibly have the energy to keep going. When it became clear you weren’t moving, he finally let out an exaggerated sigh, rolling his eyes like you were the one being unreasonable.

God, you hated him.

The studio felt unbearably hot, humid, and suffocating. It had to be nearing midnight, hours after the others had left. You couldn’t even tell what time it was anymore because Riki, in his obsessive need to stay focused, had insisted on leaving your phones outside so there’d be no distractions. The fatigue in your limbs weighed you down, but it wasn’t just the exhaustion from hours of dancing. It was him.

"Yes, again." He said, his eyes narrowing as he glared at you, stepping forward and tapping your shoulder lightly to break your daze. "We have to win. No matter what. So get it together."

You felt the anger flare up inside you, hot and immediate. “May not be as determined as you?” you scoffed. Oh, how typical of him. Like he was the only one who wanted this. Like his sleepless nights and relentless drive made him superior to everyone else. You crossed your arms, standing your ground. “You really think that, don’t you? Just because I’m not willing to drive myself into the ground doesn’t mean I’m not determined. Unlike you, I still care about being able to walk.”

He scoffed right back, the tension between you two rising with every word. "Yeah, well, if you were me, maybe you’d understand what it takes. But you’re not, and that’s the difference between us. I’m willing to do whatever it takes. You just— aren’t."

You both stared each other down through the reflection in the studio mirrors. His usual straight posture was slouched, shoulders sagging, and his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep. You knew he was just as exhausted as you, but still he was pushing both himself and you harder than ever. It was insane, but it was Riki. He didn’t know when to stop.

Finally, he broke the silence as he grabbed his water bottle. He tossed yours across the room without a word, and you caught it without thinking. "I need to win this," he said, unscrewing the lid and downing a few gulps. "And if that means practicing until my body gives out, then so be it. If you want to leave so badly, then go."

"We’re supposed to be a team, Riki," you snapped, your voice rising despite yourself. "This isn’t just about you. You can't practice by yourself and expect us to come together perfectly when it matters. They’ll see our differences, our lack of cooperation, and we’ll lose. Is that what you want?”

He scoffed at your attempt to reason with him, clearly unimpressed. “Oh please. Are you seriously trying to scare me into agreeing with you? Just admit it ; you’re too lazy to keep up.”

That was it. “Lazy? Are you fucking kidding me?” You clenched your fists, feeling your temper snap. "We’ve been here for hours. Hours, Riki. Everyone else left ages ago, and you’re still pushing us like we have no limits. What the hell is wrong with you? Is it not enough?"

His eyes were sharp as they locked onto yours, full of defiance. "So what, you’re saying we should just be like the others? You’re fine with being average when the competition comes? With being the same as everyone else?"

You could feel the fury bubbling up, barely contained. "That’s not what I meant, and you know it. If I were okay with being average, I wouldn’t still be here with you. But this? This is insane. We’ve been here for six hours. Six hours. And we can’t even check the time because of your stupid ‘no distractions’ rule. You’re running yourself into the ground. Are you not tired? Do you even like dancing? Because I'm starting to feel like you're treating this as a chore rather than a passion.”

The storm outside had gone unnoticed by either of you as it intensified, rain slamming against the windows in a relentless downpour. Thunder cracked loudly, rumbling through the building, but it was the least of your concerns. You were both too far gone into the argument to care about anything else.

“Six hours is nothing,” he spat, voice rising again. "Just admit it. you’re too lazy to—"

Flick.

Suddenlythe lights went out, bringing the studio into darkness. You both froze, the only source of light now the faint glow of the emergency exit sign. For a moment the only sound was the pounding rain outside and the ragged breaths you both were taking.

The tension was uncomfortable, and now as you were trapped in the darkness with him, it somehow felt worse. You could barely make out Riki’s silhouette, standing across from you, still glaring despite the sudden change in atmosphere.

What the fuck.

The room was dead silent except for the pounding of rain against the windows and the low rumble of distant thunder.

“The hell just happened?” you muttered as you took a cautious step forward.

Riki shifted beside you, and you could sense his frustration even in the dark. “Power’s out, obviously” he said dryly, voice tight.

You rolled your eyes, even though he probably couldn’t see it. “I can see that, genius. I meant why? Did the storm knock it out?”

As if to answer your question, another crack of thunder echoed through the room, making the windows shudder slightly. Riki cursed under his breath, and you heard the soft shuffle of his feet as he moved toward the studio door, trying to peer out into the hallway. The emergency lights barely illuminated anything beyond a few feet.

“Wow, this is great,” he muttered, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Stuck here in the dark with you.”

“Believe me, I’m thrilled.” you shot back, folding your arms. The room was already starting to feel colder, the usual heat from the studio fading away now that the power and the heating had gone out.

You both stood there in silence for a moment, the tension from your earlier argument still thick in the air, mixing with the cold that was now creeping up on you. You shivered involuntarily, rubbing your arms to create some warmth. Riki noticed, of course, and it was only a matter of time before he made some snide remark.

“Cold already?” he asked, his voice half teasing, half exasperated. “We’ve only been in the dark for like, two minutes.”

You glared at him, though it was probably wasted in the darkness. “You do realize the heating is out too, right? I’m not some robot who can function in sub zero temperatures like you.”

He scoffed. “Its hardly sub zero.”

But despite his words, you noticed him fidgeting, his hands rubbing up and down his arms, clearly feeling the drop in temperature too.

“Do you think we can get out?” you asked, trying to shift focus to something more practical. “Or are we stuck here until the storm dies down?”

Riki shrugged, though you couldn’t see it, and walked toward the door again, jiggling the handle. “It’s not locked or anything. But it’s pitch black out there. You want to risk tripping over something or getting soaked just to find out?”

You sighed, already tired of his attitude, but knowing you were both stuck in this situation whether you liked it or not. “So what do we do? Just stand here and wait?”

“Unless you’ve got a better idea,” he said, still that sharp edge to his tone.

You could feel your irritation rising again, but you forced yourself to keep it in check. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. There wasn’t much you could do, and the last thing you wanted was to trip over something in the hallway or, worse, get stuck somewhere else in the building where there wasn’t even an emergency light to guide you.

You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, trying to stop shivering, but the cold was quickly seeping into your bones. Riki, ever the stoic, tried to act like it wasn’t affecting him, but you could tell he was getting just as uncomfortable. His usually straight posture was tense, his arms crossed in front of him in an attempt to conserve heat.

“Guess your brilliant plan of staying here all night is coming back to bite you now, huh?” you muttered, unable to resist the jab.

He glared at you, but his usual fire was dulled by the cold and the exhaustion. “You’d rather be out in the storm?”

“No, but I’d rather not freeze to death in here, either.”

Another moment of silence fell between you, only broken by the faint sound of the rain and your collective breaths. The warmth from the earlier workout was long gone, replaced by an uncomfortable chill that made you both painfully aware of just how long you might be stuck here.

Riki sighed, sounding more tired than angry this time. “Look, this sucks. I get it. But what do you want me to do? I didn’t plan for the power to go out.”

You hesitated, surprised by the shift in his tone. He sounded less like the demanding, insufferable person you’d been arguing with for hours, and more like someone who was just as worn out as you were.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly, feeling the fight drain out of you. “I just want to go home.”

He didn’t say anything at first, and for a moment you wondered if he was going to snap at you again. But then he sighed, softer this time, and leaned back against the mirrored wall.

“Yeah,” he said, voice low, almost like he was talking to himself. “Me too.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The studio was dead silent except for the pounding rain and the occasional rumble of thunder. You stood there in the dim light, deciding to walk over to the mirror and sit down. Your pulse thudded in your ears, every ragged breath matching the rhythm of the storm outside. You were still fuming, still riding the high of your argument, but now, in the sudden darkness, the energy felt different.

You could barely make out Riki’s shape, the dim glow of the emergency light casting a faint silhouette. He was standing still, breathing just as hard as you, and for once, there wasn’t another snide comment. No sarcasm, no scoff. Just the quiet.

“Well then,” you finally said, voice edged with frustration, “I guess that’s it for now.”

Riki didn’t respond. Instead, you heard the soft shuffle of his body as he walked up to where you were sitting, and dropped down next to you, on your left. His face was still impossible to see, but you could imagine the way his brows were furrowed, the stubborn set of his jaw.

“You were kind of right.” He muttered, and you cocked an eyebrow, trying not to lean into his body warmth.

“Huh?”You respond, a little confused.

“You know,” his voice cut through the silence, lower now, almost thoughtful, “you think I’m doing this just to push you, but… you don’t get it.”

You blinked, thrown off by the sudden change in tone. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m not pushing you because I want to win.” He turned, facing you now, but still just a shadow against the emergency light. “Well I mean, yeah, I want to win. But I’m pushing you because if I don’t push myself harder, I feel like. Like I’ll lose something.” He paused, the hesitation in his voice something you weren’t used to hearing. “Like if I stop for even a second, I’ll forget why I started.”

The anger in your chest started to cool, replaced by confusion, and maybe something else. “What do you mean?”

There was another pause, longer this time. The tension that had filled the room was still there, but it had shifted. It softened somehow. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter. “Sometimes I’m scared I’m killing it. The passion, I mean. Like, I love this, dancing, performing, but sometimes it feels like the more I do it, the less I feel. Like it’s just becoming something I have to do because it’s expected of me. And I don’t know how to stop that from happening. So I just… keep going.”

You stared at him, the words sinking in. Riki, the guy who never show a moment of weakness, was standing there, admitting he was scared. That he was afraid the very thing he loved the most was slipping away from him.

"I dont wanna end up hating it,” he continued, and his voice cracked just slightly, like he was holding something back. "But I also can’t stop. Because if I stop, then what? Who am I if I’m not good at this? If I’m not the best?"

His words hung heavy in the air, mixing with the sound of rain slamming against the windows and the soft hum of the emergency light. For the first time since you started working together, you felt like you were seeing a different side of him. One that wasn’t full of arrogance or irritation or stubbornness.

You scooted slightly towards him, awkwardly bumping his shoulder against yours, your own frustration slipping away as the storm inside you started to settle and the cold started to dissipate because of his body warmth. “You’re not going to lose it,” you said softly, surprising even yourself with the gentleness in your voice. “You won’t lose the passion. I don’t think its something that just disappears, no matter how hard you push yourself.”

Riki didn’t say anything, but you could see the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly.

“And if it ever does start to feel like that,” you continued, voice steady, “then maybe that’s when you need to take a step back. To breathe. To remind yourself why you love it in the first place. Because, sorry man, but pushing yourself to exhaustion isn’t going to bring that love back. It’s going to make it worse.”

He let out a long breath, leaning against the mirror as if the weight of his thoughts had finally caught up to him. “Maybe.”

“You don’t have to do this alone, you know….. Um. We’re supposed to be a team, Riki. That means you don’t have to carry all of this by yourself.”

He glanced at you through the dim light, his expression hard to read, but something about the way his posture relaxed told you that maybe, he was starting to let his guard down.

"Can I be honest?" you began again, feeling his eyes settle on you in the dim, cold room.

Riki shifted beside you but said nothing, the weight of his earlier confession still hanging between you. You could hear his slow, measured breathing, almost like he was trying to brace himself for whatever you were about to say. The cold air nipped at your skin, the only heat coming from him, but in that moment it was the least of your concerns.

"I never really thought you’d say something like this," you continued, rubbing your arms absentmindedly to keep warm. "I mean, honestly, Riki? For the longest time, I just thought you were like... a complete asshole."

He let out a small, incredulous laugh at your bluntness, but stayed quiet, waiting for you to go on.

"I did!” You insisted, turning to face him more directly. "You always acted so smug. So perfect. Like nothing ever got to you, and you just... ugh, you drove me insane. Every time we had practice it was like you were showing off and I hated it. I hated you. I mean sure, you were talented and yeah, I could obviously see that, but it was like you were purposely rubbing it in everyone’s face."

You could feel his gaze on you, and although it was dark, you imagined his eyes were wide with surprise at your honesty. He probably didnnt expect you to lay it out like this, but after his confession, you felt like the air between you had cleared enough to speak your mind. Plus the cold had numbed your usual hesitancy.

"And okay, maybe I was jealous," you admitted, letting out a breath. "Actually, no, I was jealous. All of the time. Like, it felt like no matter how hard I tried, you’d always be one step ahead. Always better. Always the golden boy or whatever... And it made me hate you more because I felt like I was never good enough compared to you. And then you’d keep pushing and pushing, acting like you didn’t have any limits, and it made me feel even worse. Deadass, how were you not exhausted? How did you keep going without burning out?”

Riki shifted slightly beside you, and you could sense his surprise. But to your shock, he didn’t snap back, didn’t argue. He just listened.

"But I never once considered that you were struggling too," you continued, sighing and your tone softening as your thoughts unraveled. "I just thought you were this unfeeling robot who thrived on outdoing everyone else. I didn’t think about what you were sacrificing, or how it was weighing on you. I guess I never really stopped to think that maybe you were hurting too."

The words hung in the cold air, the silence around you paused only by the sound of rain hitting the windows. The heat was long gone from the room, leaving a biting chill in its place, but your mind was so focused on getting the words out that the cold barely registered.

"I mean, don’t get me wrong," you added, a bit of your usual snark creeping back into your voice. "You are an asshole, like, still. Probably. But now I kinda get it, you know? You’re human. You’re not some perfect machine. And I’m—“ A pause. “I’m glad I got to see that side of you. Because now I think I understand you better."

For a moment the silence stretches out, and you half expect him to snap back with something sarcastic or dismissive, as he usually did. But instead, you feel him move beside you, closer this time, and before you could react Riki’s head softly came to rest on your shoulder.

You stilled for a second, blinking in the dark, unsure of what to do. The warmth of his head against your bare shoulder was a sharp contrast to the cold that seemed to seep into every other part of the room, and the unexpected intimacy of the gesture sent your thoughts spiraling. You had just spent the last few minutes telling him how much you loathed him, and now here he was leaning into you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"Errr... what are you doing?" you asked with a voice laced with confusion, though you didn’t make any effort to push him away.

He didn’t lift his head or even glance at you. “It’s cold.” he muttered, almost like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

You let out a huff of air of half amusement and half shock. "Okay but— You know tthat this doesn’t mean I suddenly don’t think you’re still lowkey a jerk, right?”

Riki let out a soft laugh, though it was more relaxed this time and less sharp than before. “Yeah, I know.”

You sighed, unsure if you should find this whole situation absurd or oddly... nice? For someone who just confessed how much you couldnt stand him, here you were sitting in the cold with his head on your shoulder, both of you too exhausted to care about maintaining whatever wall had existed between you. Warmth crept up your ears slightly.

“But seriously,” you continued, voice a little quieter now, “I’m glad I saw this side of you. It’s weird... but in a good way. I think I actually— I think I really understand you now. And to be honest, I didn’t even think that was possible."

Riki shifted slightly but didn’t lift his head. “Yeah... me neither,” he admitted, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.

Maybe you didn’t really hate the guy as much as you thought. Maybe what you had once called hate was just layers of frustration and misunderstanding, all tangled up in your own jealousy and his annoying perfection. Now, with his head resting on your shoulder and his breaths soft against your neck, the feeling wasn’t something you loathed. In fact, it was kind of comforting.

It made you realize that maybe there was something more to all of this. Beneath the sour conversation, and the constant competition and tension, maybe there was something you hadn’t let yourself see before.

Without thinking much about it, you shifted closer, letting your head rest gently against his. Your arm slowly found its way around his, and instead of pulling back, he stayed there, both of you wrapped up in the quiet, the cold, and each other.

And for the first time, in a long time, you allowed yourself to relax. Your eyes fluttered shut as your breathing synced with his. It was strange how natural it felt, like this had always been there between you two, waiting to be discovered.

You didn’t really hate him. Not anymore.

Flick.

The overhead lights buzzed to life, illuminating the room suddenly, blinding you both. You squinted against the harsh light, feeling Riki stir beside you as you both blinked yourselves awake.

The door to the studio creaked open and Heeseung and Jay walked through it, their faces a mix of confusion & amusement. They both froze at the sight of you two, curled up together like it was the most natural thing in the world. Heeseung raised an eyebrow with a smirk already forming on his lips.

“Well, well, well,” Heeseung said, crossing his arms as he took in the scene. “What do we have here?”

Jay, standing beside him, looked equally entertained, though he tried to hide it with a straight face. “Didnt expect to walk in on this.”

You quickly pulled away from Riki, sitting up straighter and blinking in annoyance at the sudden interruption. “Uh…,” you muttered under your breath, trying to shake off the embarrassment creeping up on you.

Riki, on the other hand, rubbed his eyes, looking dazed but clearly embarrassed. “What are you two even doing here?” he asked, his voice still groggy from sleep as he avoided eye contact with his hyungs.

Heeseung chuckled, clearly enjoying this way too much. “We heard the power went out and figured we’d come check on some things. Didn’t want the equipment getting damaged or anything. But...” he gestured to the two of you, “looks like we found something a little more interesting.”

Jay nodded, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah, Riki, what are you doing here?”

Riki groaned, clearly regretting ever opening his mouth. “Just... we were practicing late, okay? And the power went out, and, uh.” he glanced at you, unsure how to explain the rest. “It’s not what you might think it is.”

“Oh sure,” Heeseung said and winked. “Totally.”

You rolled your eyes, pulling yourself to your feet and stretching out the stiffness from being curled up on the floor for so long. “Can we not do this right now? It’s late, and I just want to go home.”

Jay grinned, tossing you his jacket. “Alright lovebirds. Let’s go. We’ll drive you both home before this gets any more awkward.”

Riki shot them a look, his cheeks tinted pink as he grabbed his things. “God, I hate you guys.”

“Nah, you love us.” Heeseung corrected, as the four of you walked out into the chilly night, leaving the studio (and whatever had just happened) behind.

note : thank you for reading!! as always comments and feedback are always appreciated :) fyi i got a little lazy towards the end so sorry if it stops making sense halfway through or if i didn’t bother to proof check correctly 😭😭

[magicalrocketships]

hiii do you have news on baby max ?

yes, yes, I do. important news. (this was supposed to just be a few lines but it grew).

All earlier parts can be found in this masterpost and on AO3 here.

It's You And Me (I Know It's My Destiny): Daniel's Birthday Eve (1.1k)

The day before Daniel's birthday, Max wakes Daniel up at the inhumane hour of six in the morning, patiently tells Daniel he's doing secret things in his bedroom, and that Daniel isn’t allowed in.

Daniel, blearily coming to life on far too little sleep, agrees that Max isn't to be disturbed, but rather than this meaning he gets to go back to sleep, Max puts in his breakfast order instead. He would like cheerios and apple juice, please Daniel. Daniel's suggestion that this wait until a more humane time like 6.30 is met with Max's blisteringly silent disdain.

Daniel, suitably rebuked, stumbles out of bed and prepares Max a breakfast of cheerios and apple juice, and puts the milk in a jug that he's had to buy specially because Max doesn't like his cereal soggy. Max applies milk in a systematic and occasional manner as and when required, rather than all at once like a normal person. Daniel suspects that Max's particular idiosyncrasies weren't indulged the first time around and Daniel can't be fucked trying to persuade him out of it now that he’s seven for a second time, so Max has his own milk jug and smiles at Daniel over breakfast now.

Max eats his breakfast sitting at the table, then politely requests that they call Daniel's mum and dad on the iPad. He then disappears with the iPad and Daniel's parents into his bedroom, closes the door, and Daniel is left to clear up the remains of breakfast and slowly come awake over two cups of coffee. He picks at a few dry cheerios. Contemplates a shower. He knocks at Max's bedroom door and asks if everything is okay, and he's met with a chorus of responses - Max's yes thank you Daniel coupled with Daniel's Mum and Dad's tinny everything's good coming from the iPad.

Sure. Daniel will take that. He cleans up the kitchen a bit, has a very quick shower with the door cracked the tiniest bit open in case Max needs him, then wanders between the bedroom and the kitchen and the utility room failing to do jobs and wondering what Max is getting up to with his parents. He should be enjoying the peace and quiet, with no one telling him flag facts or shoving pictures of cats in front of him and getting him to guess the breed or telling him that the Jimmy or Sassy cats are trying to knock everything off the trophy shelf again, but he wants to know what's going on. There's some very industrious paper cutting and conversation going on inside Max’s bedroom.

Max pads out of the bedroom after an hour, hands Daniel the iPad and says it's running out of charge. He also asks for the glue and if it's all right if he uses all his stickers up. Daniel's mum waves at him from the iPad, which is, as Max says, running at 7%.

"Hello, Mum," Daniel says, rooting about in the drawer for the glue sticks at the same time as unplugging the charging cable from the wall and plugging it into his battery pack instead.

"Hello, Daniel," his mum says.

"Everything okay?" Daniel asks, handing over the battery pack, the glue sticks, and the iPad to a stern-faced Max.

"Yes, thank you, Daniel," Max says. Daniel's mum echoes it. She at least waves as Max goes back into his bedroom and closes the door.

The next time Max comes out, it's to deposit the iPad with Daniel and to ask for a drink. It's both his parents on the screen this time.

"Hello," Daniel says, plugging them into the wall and obediently getting Max a cup of apple juice.

Max comes and sits down next to Daniel, plastering himself to Daniel’s side like he's Daniel's personal protector.

"How's it going?" Daniel asks, since every member of his family is apparently being weird as fuck today.

"It's your birthday," Max says.

"Tomorrow," Daniel agrees.

"It's almost tomorrow in Australia," Max says solidly. "Isn't it?" He directs his attention towards Daniel's mum and dad.

"It is almost tomorrow in Australia," his parents say, which is a lie because it's not even fucking dinnertime in Perth.

"We're going to have your birthday now," Max says.

"Are we?"

"We are," Max says. "Stay here and don't move. Please."

He pads off into the bedroom. He'd got himself dressed even before coming to wake Daniel up that morning, in his Pokemon t-shirt and shorts and his blue socks. When he comes back he's carrying a big piece of paper from his arts and crafts set and carrying Pikachu under one arm. He unfolds the paper for Daniel to look at.

It says Happy Birthday My Daniel in big coloured-in blue letters, and underneath, love from Max. There are some cat stickers on one side and Max has carefully written the name of the cat breeds (with some crossings out where he'd spelled it wrong) next to them with arrows. He's drawn a flag in each corner. There's the Australian flag, and the Italian one, and the Dutch one, and the Belgian one. He's used up all his stickers from the zoo and glued on a picture of a camel and a train and a photograph of him and Daniel and Daniel's mum and dad from when they went on holiday and they spent five days basically living in the pool. Max has had that photo stuck to his wall ever since they got back.

Daniel looks at his birthday picture. He wants to cry.

"Happy birthday, my Daniel," Max says. "Do you like it?"

"More than anything," Daniel says, and he can't help but sound a bit choked up. When he looks up at his iPad, his parents are smiling. His dad has his phone out taking a picture of the screen. "Did you help with this?"

"We were here for artistic advice and company," his mum says. "But it was all Max."

Max looks up at him. He's beaming, pleased and happy and proud. "I made it for you," he says.

"It's the best thing I've ever seen," Daniel says, truthfully, and he asks Max if he'd like a hug.

Max nods thoughtfully, then wraps his arms around Daniel's neck. Daniel hugs back.

"Thank you," Daniel says, a little sniffly. "It's lovely."

"I used up all my stickers," Max tells him, still hugging him.

"That's very kind of you," Daniel says. He kisses the top of Max's head. "We'll have to get you some more, won't we?"

"We're going to send some from Australia," his parents say. "With koalas on."

"And kangaroos," Max agrees.

"Best early birthday present ever," Daniel says. He looks down at his picture. He'll put it on the wall, he thinks. Leave it up forever.

"Love you," Max says solidly.

"Love you too," Daniel says, and Max, smiling, gives him Pikachu to hold.

"You can look after Pikachu," Max says, and Daniel thinks, forever.

[beneath-the-willow-tree]

Adore Devil's Minion. Hate the idea that Daniel has to "save" or "fix" Armand. First of all, boring. Second of all, that's what Marius thought he was doing. Third — of all characters to attribute a savior complex to, Daniel "Poke the Bear" Molloy is by far the most laughable option.

[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 2

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.1k Words

Part 1

School assemblies were fun in their own way. You weren’t exactly brimming with school spirit but you could fake it for a half-hour when it got you out of your History class. Everyone was ushered into the gym at the end of the day to celebrate the sport season. You had no idea if the Hawkin’s Tigers were good or not, you could really only name two and a half people on the basketball team: Jason Carver, who you unfortunately had shared a free period with once, Lucas Sinclair, who you had seen talking to Eddie once in a blue moon, and Steve Harrington who had graduated, so he didn’t really count. You vaguely remembered working with him on some school project for two days and thinking that you just wanted to squish his hair down to see if it would spring back up. 

Stacy bounded over to you in the bleachers, decked out in more Tiger’s Green than a leprechaun. She shook the scrunchy out of her hair and slipped it onto your wrist. You sometimes wondered how she never became a cheerleader with how perky she was.

“There, now you look like you tried.” she giggled, nudging you. 

“I was gonna scribble on my face with a green dry erase marker, but Mr. Thompson’s had run dry.” You said. 

“He was probably lying so you wouldn’t steal one and huff it in the bathroom.” 

“Hey, that was one time and 4th grade math was hard.” you cackled. 

“Speaking of hard drugs, look who decided to actually show up.” Stacy smirked and your stomach instantly dropped as you followed her gaze. 

“What the fuck is Eddie doing here?” you whispered to Stacy. “He doesn’t do pep rallies!”

“Guess he does now.” she shrugged. 

Eddie was a few rows lower than you, leaning against the end railing of the bleachers. You vaguely wondered if he was burning up in that leather jacket, it wasn’t exactly cool in the gym with so many bodies all squished together. 

He was alone, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You didn’t blame him, this clearly wasn’t a place where he fit in. You looked down the bleachers in the opposite direction, unable to pick out any of his friends. During pep rallies, the bleachers were divided by grade, with Seniors on your end of the bleachers, and freshmen on the opposite end. Maybe Eddie was pressing himself against the railing to create his own section of Super Seniors. 

If he was anyone else, you’d join him in that section, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. 

“He looks lonely, go talk to him before they start.” Stacy encouraged. 

“Please, I doubt he’d want to talk to me at any other time. You think he wants to talk to me now?” you asked incredulously. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“He could convince me to join a cult and then sacrifice me to the dark forces.” you said, looking over at him. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he whirled around. Out of everyone around, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. 

Oh shit.

He heard that. 

His round brown eyes sized you up, and you cringed out of embarrassment for your stupid joke. You felt like a deer in the headlights. Eddie was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time and you were about two seconds away from jumping off the back of the bleachers and tunneling your way out of the school. 

Next to you, you could practically feel Stacy shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter, which unfortunately, triggered your own set of nervous giggling because this whole thing was so stupid and Eddie was still looking at you. 

He looked unimpressed, and flipped you off before turning back around to sulk against the railing again as the band suddenly started up, and everyone started cheering for the team. 

“Gotta say, I am nailing this, Stacy.” You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. “Practically had the boy swooning.”

“Yeah, he’ll be asking you out any day now.” She rubbed your back sympathetically. 

“I can’t believe he heard me. He totally thought I was being serious.” Your giggles finally subsided and you looked up at her. 

“It would be very easy to clear this up, if you’d just talk to him.” She said. 

“I don’t like it when you’re rational, you know.” you replied and glanced at him again. Eddie was no longer looking at you and was just fiddling with his rings as he watched boredly as Principal Higgens was giving announcements. 

You had to apologize. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to think that you were really like that. You didn’t buy into the bullshit that some dice and graph paper could damn your soul to hell. 

“Fuck it, I’m going in.” you said, and turned to head towards Eddie. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” 

You made your way to the edge of the bleachers, and three things happened in quick succession. First, Miles Cooper got overly enthusiastic as you passed by him, and his elbow made a quick and sharp connection to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. The second thing that happened was a stray backpack got kicked right in front of you as you staggered from the shock of being elbowed. The third and final thing was you falling down the two benches of bleachers that separated you and Eddie. 

“You can either go to the pep rally and act like you are a part of this school, or you can have detention, Mr. Munson. The choice is yours.” 

Normally, no one gave a shit if Eddie skipped out on something like a pep rally. That time was better spent either reading in an empty classroom or as a smoke break in the parking lot. He had just made it out to the parking lot before he was spotted and given the option. Eddie had been good about not skipping class this year, but he really didn’t want to give Higgins another reason to threaten to withhold his diploma. 

So there he was, leaning against the railing of the furthest bleachers so that the second the pep rally ended, he could just book it back to the van and leave to.. Somewhere. Uncle Wayne had work, and Eddie didn’t have a shift at the Hideout. There was no Hellfire today. 

Eddie was feeling restless as he fidgeted with his rings. Today had already been annoying and he really just wanted to sneak out to his van and have a smoke. It’s not like anyone here would miss him, they’d probably celebrate his departure more than the entrance to the basketball team. 

He looked down at his hands, taking his rings off and rearranging them on his fingers. He tapped them on the railing, listening to the sounds they made as he counted the seconds for this whole thing to be over. 

As his mind started to wander off, a voice snapped him back to the hell he was currently in. “-join a cult and sacrifice me to the dark forces.” 

It was always obvious when someone was talking about Eddie. Normally he’d let it go and ignore whoever it was, but he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. His head whipped around, looking for whoever was talking about him. 

There you were with Stacy, again. Eddie wished he could be surprised, but he wasn’t. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over. You weren’t dressed in anything that screamed “school spirit” except for a scrunchie around your wrist. 

He saw how you cringed at the sight of him, which only pissed him off more. What was your fucking problem? You were friends with Stacy, who had been on the cheer squad before her ankle gave out, the skaters liked, you liked everyone. Everyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson. 

Eddie had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that maybe the two of you just hadn’t crossed paths enough. Maybe it wasn’t personal. But now, after hearing you say that you also thought he was some sort of demon worshiping freak he was fine to write you off as just another Hawkins student. Maybe then he could finally move past this weird feeling he had whenever you gave him the stink eye. 

Stacy started giggling next to you, and Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn’t worth it to start anything now at the pep rally. He was already on thin ice after being caught trying to skip. The sooner this was over the better. 

His attention drifted as Higgins droned on and on about school spirit and upcoming fundraisers and games. It was all background noise. In his mind, Eddie was working out the next dungeon that Hellfire was going to take on. His party was getting too used to his usual tricks, so he’d have to pull out something new to really throw them off-

There was a choked off gasp. 

Then a curse. 

Then a horrible cracking sound as something fell next to him.

“Jesus-!” Eddie jumped nearly a foot in the air as you hit the bleacher next to him. His eye nearly bugged out as he saw you sprawled next to him, clutching your stomach and gasping for air like a fish. 

Everyone in the section was still as they all stared at you, before a few started to snicker. Stacy was quick to jump down with far more grace and land by your side. Eddie was completely frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard Miles Cooper say- 

“It was Munson! He did it!”

Eddie’s head snapped to Miles, about to say something before a teacher sharply demanded the Eddie get off the bleachers and come down for what was sure to be a one-sided lecture and detention for something he didn’t do. 

He didn’t fight it, he was about to argue and cause a scene right now in the bleachers. Not when that teacher had a fire in her eyes that said she was just itching for trouble. Fine, he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. 

Eddie walked down the bleachers and followed the teacher out into the hallway. He was already tuning out the lecture about watching your body and not hitting girls. This was such bullshit, and he knew he couldn’t even fight back and defend himself. 

“Look, I didn’t touch her!” Eddie couldn’t stop the frustration in his voice. “She was behind me when she fell!”

“Witnesses say otherwise.” The teacher crossed her arms. 

“Look, just because that dumbass said it was true-” 

There was a loud CLANK as the heavy doors to the gym burst open and to Eddie’s surprise, you were rushing through the door, holding onto your arm. 

You made a beeline for him and the teacher and Eddie could already see it now. Your fake tears as you cried about how the freak shoved you down for no reason-

“Didn’t... do it.” you were shaking your head and panting hard. With your free hand you were pointing at Eddie. “He didn’t... he didn’t do anything... Miles elbowed me. Then I tripped. Eddie never.... Touched me.” 

Stacy was behind you and grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you in place. “Eddie didn’t do anything, Mrs. Jane.” she explained. “She was just trying to go get some water and ate shit. Eddie had nothing to do with it.”

You nodded, still panting hard as if trying to catch your breath. Stacy was rubbing your back, and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. 

Eddie felt like he had just stepped into an alternate timeline. You were actually defending him? You were in that much pain but had still come running to claim his innocence? 

Mrs. Jane looked at you with concern. “Eddie, you may go back to the pep rally.” She dismissed him without so much as an apology for chewing him out. 

Fuck this. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way back towards the gym, but slipped into a side hall. The pep rally was going to be over soon anyway, he might as well beat traffic. 

He paused just as he was out of sight. Fine, he was a little nosey and mildly concerned as you had just come to his rescue. 

“I... I think I hurt my arm.” you said, and he could hear the real pain in your voice. 

“I’ll take her to the nurse.” Stacy said. 

Eddie heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly slipped out of the school before Mrs. Jane caught him escaping. 

Yeah, he was going to need something stronger than a cigarette after this. 

I really didn't think the original blurb would get much attention lol

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