#good session i had fun. but now we need to find out who’s trying to kill our friends brother

[mildmayfoxe]

tonight on dnd i came in fucking CLUTCH when the dead lady told us (speak with dead) that she spilled acid on her gloves & used her boss’s gloves instead & i immediately wanted to take the gloves off and look at her hands. what was on the gloves when we took them off her??? CURSE!!! THATS RIGHT BABY NECROMANCY CURSE MEANT FOR SOMEONE ELSE [airhorn noise airhorn noise airhorn noise]

[cressidagrey]

Holy Ground - Chapter 2

Summary:

Nobody knew that Azriel found his mate. Until she nearly died. This is the aftermath.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), Inner Circle Bashing (kinda), Referenced/Implied Sexual Assault, Referenced/Implied Domestic Violence, Discussion of Religion(?), Chronic Injury/Pain/Illness, Minor Character Death (It's probably nobody you love), Magical Work Accidents, Explosions, Injuries

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Azriel’s shadows liked to spoil his mate rotten.

Not that Azriel could find anything wrong with that.

She deserved more for putting up with him. 

More than new tea from the Dawn Court and her favourite chocolate covered, wafer thin cookies from a small bakery near the Sidra…more than the occasional embroidery thread they snuck her…More than whatever animal he went to go hunt, to cover his bed in even more furs just for her. 

He nearly had enough Sable furs to have a blanket made for her for Winter Solstice…

Azriel also had half a mind to go sneak in her office later that day. 

Just as a treat for not killing either of his brothers. For being civil. 

Rhys had come over for sparring, unnannounced. 

Azriel had hoped to have some peace and quiet today, but it seemed like Rhys had other plans. 

Currently Cassian and Rhys were wrestling with less sense than they had had when they were just kids, and Azriel was cleaning his weapons, watching from the sidelines.

Azriel couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of his brothers roughhousing. It was typical of them to turn a simple sparring session into some kind of ridiculous competition. He focused on sharpening his knives, trying to ignore their antics.

"You know, we could also actually train properly," he called out, his tone dry. "Instead of wrestling like a bunch of children."

Cassian looked up from his grappling with Rhys, grinning. "Oh, come on Az. Don't be such a stick in the mud. Loosen up, have a little fun for once."

Azriel's expression remained impassive. "I'm perfectly capable of having fun, Cassian. But I prefer to do so without rolling around in the dirt like a wild animal."

Rhysand chuckled, standing up and clapping Cassian on the back. "It's good to let loose every now and then, Az. You should try it sometime. It might make your brooding sessions a little less depressing."

Azriel just grunted in response, not willing to engage in a verbal sparring match with Rhys. He continued to clean his weapons, hoping that the training session would end soon so he could escape his brothers' teasing.

“When did you even come home yesterday?” Cassian asked him.

Azriel looked up from his work, his expression neutral. "Around 11," he said simply.

“You didn’t come to dinner,” Rhys pointed out. “You were missed.”

He highly doubted that.

And maybe he had made that mission in Dawn just a little while longer, so that he knew that dinner would be over and when he came home, he wouldn’t need to be alone.

Azriel just shrugged. "I was busy," he said, offering no further explanation. He knew his brothers were just trying to rile him up, and he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Are you still pissed of at me?* Rhys asked him mentally with a sigh. *I get it. But you don’t need to avoid everybody else, just because…*

*I’m not avoiding anyone,* Azriel replied, his mental voice tight. *I’m simply choosing to spend my time how I see fit.*

“I was busy,” he repeated aloud.

Cassian rolled his eyes. "You're always busy, Az. You know, there's such thing as taking a break once in a while. Spending time with your family."

Or he could spent time with his mate. He could spent time with his mate, who let him brush her hair and even braid it …who pressed kisses to his horrible scarred hands and smiled at him. 

If it was a choice between Irena or a family dinner where he didn’t want to stay longer than an hour or two, because he was still too fucking pissed off at Rhys…the choice was easy. 

“Or is there a special somebody?” Cassian teased him.

Azriel glowered at him. "It’s none of your business." He went back to working on his weapons, his expression tense.

*You can’t keep panting after Elain for the rest of your life,* Rhys said mentally. *Look, I know I didn’t…I am sorry. But she’s happy with Lucien and…*

*Don’t worry, I’ll go to a pleasure hall and pay for it if I want to fuck somebody,* Azriel shot back viciously.

Or his own hand would suffice. More than suffice, especially if…especially if Irena had let him kiss her the evening before…sometimes he waited until she disappeared into her room, and he buried his face in the pillows that smelled like her, fisted his cock and rutted like an untried boy for seconds before he came all over himself. 

It was still better than any other sex he ever had had before.

Cassian raised an eyebrow at him. "It sounds like you need to get laid," he said, chuckling. "Maybe that'll help with your bad mood."

Azriel shot him a glare. "Mind your own business, Cassian. My love life is none of your concern."

Rhysand gave him a sympathetic look. *We just want you to be happy, Az. You deserve happiness.*

“Ohhh, touchy,” Cassian said with a snort.

Azriel just gritted his teeth, his temper rising. "Cassian, if you don’t shut your mouth right now, I swear to the Mother, I’ll shut it for you."

Cassian just grinned at him. "Come on, Az. I’m just teasing you. Lighten up."

Azriel's grip on his weapons tightened. "I don't like your teasing, Cassian. And I certainly don't appreciate you making assumptions about my personal life.”

Mostly he just wanted his brothers to leave him the hell alone.

And then...then before he could say another thing...he felt the shaking.

And then the sound came. An eardrum shattering explosion, the very foundation of the House of Wind shaking. It was terrifying him.

Irena was down there in her office. Nesta was in there. 

He was moving before he was even thinking. 

*Merrill's office, Master!* the shadows screeched.

Azriel was already running.

Cassian hot on his heels, so was Rhys.

Azriel was faster, heaving shadows around his limbs as he rocketed down the spiral stairs of the House of Wind.

Level Two, Straight to the right. Clearly...Clearly the epicenter of the blast. Of the explosion…of whatever had happened.

He pushed as hard as he could, legs burning as he hurtled down the hallway to Merrill's office.

He wasn't the only one. "Merrill!" He could hear Gwyn's shrill voice screaming, coming to a stop in a hallway of what had once been Merrill's office but now was just...

It was a mass of wood and rubble.

He barely slowed down, scrambling into action. Gwyn was already digging through it, so where Nesta and Emerie. Cassian landed behind him, immediately moving some of the debris.

His shadows swarmed as he and the others quickly dug at the rubble. Looking, desperately looking.

He moved another piece of rubble out of the way...a piece of blue cloths. The same blue cloth that he knew covered Irena's body, the scent of poppies clinging to her...Without a thought, he grasped and then dragged, a hoarse shout that was her, that was her...

He felt as if he were choking, as if he were drowning as he dragged out her body. Bloody, bruised, broken but still...still there was a faint flicker, a faint, thready heartbeat.

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, he tried to pick up on her heart. There was barely a flicker. Too fast, too faint, she was barely holding on. Barely hanging by a thread.

There was blood pooling on her abdomen, dying the blue dress she wore bright scarlet red, He put pressure on that wound immediately, leaning on her with nearly all his weight, his fingers slick with blood. "Damn it, stay with me, love," he demanded sharply.

Azriel felt like he could barely breath. Like he was falling, tumbling down as he tried to will her to stay with him. Stay. Stay. Stay. Please stay. Stay...

Rhys was there suddenly, checking her pulse. "Breathing is erratic. She's in shock," he told Azriel with a grimace. "Mor is getting Madja..."

"Az..." her voice was so weak, but he turned to see dark brown eyes watching him, brows furrowing.

"Just keep breathing, Love," he told her, trying to stop his voice from shaking.

He could barely hear what was going on around him. It was as if he were in a bubble, a world of just himself and her and the desperate beat of her heart under his fingers.

"I am sorry," she whispered.

"There is nothing you need to apologise for her, Irena," he promised her sharply. "Absolutely nothing."

Irena's eyes drifted shut. Azriel felt like something was dying inside him as her heartbeat fluttered against his fingertips. His world was collapsing, shattering into pieces as her breath stuttered.

"Stay. Just stay..." he was barely aware of what he was saying, his eyes frantically searching hers. She had to stay. He would do anything to keep her here. Anything.

"I am still owing you that flight," he told her. She hadn't let him take her flying yet. They had snuck away in the library...in the rooftop garden...in her office. But he had never gotten to take her flying. He had never gotten to take her out into Velaris. They had never had a date at a fancy restaurant, had never gone to see the symphony. There were thousands of things that he hadn't yet gotten to do with his mate, because they had all the time in the world.

Irena just stared at him, her eyes pleading, as her heartbeat slowed, fluttering weaker and weaker. Azriel felt a sharp pain in his chest as fear clawed at his spine. "Just hold on a little longer, love," he whispered. "Please."

And then there Madja. Thank the cauldron. There she was.

Azriel could barely manage to let go of her, his mind consumed with the singular thought of Irena's laboured, erratic heartbeat as he moved back. Madja immediately set to work.

He lunged for her head, lunged to pull it on his lap, to touch her with blood slick fingertips, her normally rosy red lips pale, her skin even whiter than usual.

"Hurts," she whispered, as Madja set to work, barking orders.

"I know, I know, love," he whispered, touching her cheek with his fingertips as Madja got to work.

His eyes searched hers as he murmured those words over and over, as if he could somehow hold her in this world through sheer force of will alone.

"We haven't had enough time," he whispered desperately, leaning his forehead against hers.

She was slipping away. He could feel it. Feel her slipping, feel her heartbeat slow. Feel the thread that tethered her to this world fray, fray, fray...

No. He couldn't lose her. Would not let her leave him. He had waited far too long for her. Far, far too long to let her slip through his fingers.

"Stay with me," he pleaded. "Please stay with me."

But her eyes were slipping shut, her head lolling to the side. He gently patted her cheek, trying to urge her back to consciousness, but he didn't think he was even really aware of what he was doing, where he was. The world had boiled down to a desperate litany, in his head. Stay...stay...please...don't you dare...

“I am going to be so furious with you if you die. We may have our first fight,” he told her fiercely.

He needed her to know that he would be there to be furious with her if she dared to die, that she couldn't die. Couldn't. That she had to stay. Had to keep fighting. There were too many things ahead of them...a wedding to plan, children to have, years and years of life to live.

“Az,” she breathed his name, her eyes not even open anymore.

“Open your eyes, Irena,” he demanded. “Look at me, love,”

Her eyes finally fluttered open at his command. It was barely more than a slither of brown, but he latched onto it, taking it for what it was. A chance. A moment to get through to her.

He wasn't sure what he was saying, but the words spilled forth from him, a litany, a desperate prayer. "Please," he breathed, "don't go...don't you dare..."

He was dimly aware that the others had gathered, but he didn't dare look away. Didn't dare look away from her as he cradled her head, trying to pour all of his prayers into those words. All of his hope and desperation.

"You can't go." A statement. An order. An absolute certainty in his voice. "I will not let you go."

He wouldn't. Would never, ever let her go. Would drag her back from the Cauldron's grasp with bloodied and broken hands if thats what had to be.

She didn't speak. Didn't need to. He could read her answer in her eyes, the determination in those brown eyes as she tried so, so hard to stay.

It was as if she were holding on for him, because he had asked her to. Because it was him there with her. Like she would fight until her last breath because he told her too. He didn't deserve this beautiful creature, who was willing to fight for him, willing to live for him.

It was something primal, something desperate, something fierce as he whispered those words over and over, like a prayer. "Fight. Fight. Fight."

And she listened. She did. He could feel her hold on, just barely grasp hold of that tether that kept her in this world. Just barely keep her eyes open.

Just look at him.

And she did, those dark eyes unfocused but open, staring up at him, watching him. Trying so, so hard. It nearly made his heart stop in the most terrible way that she was struggling for him.

And he was so proud of her. Of the way she was fighting like she was. Of the way she was grasping, hanging on to life like she was.

The seconds stretched too thin, feeling like eternities and only the slightest of moments. But her eyes were open, if only barely. She hadn't given up. Hadn't let go.

He was dimly aware of the others, Gwyn hovering with a worried expression, Madja murmuring quiet instructions to the others, Rhys kneeling not far away. But he barely glanced at them, barely dared to take his eyes off Irena.

He was certain that if he looked away, if he let this tenuous thread sever, that she would die. That as long as he kept her here, she wouldn't slip, wouldn't let go.

He had one hand on her cheek, her skin still clammy and pale, as her eyes slipped open and shut. But everytime, they would find his face. His eyes, like he was the only thing tethering her to the world. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her barely holding on, only that last sliver of determination keeping her here.

"Please," he pleaded, whispering those words like a prayer, like he would be praying to a vengeful god. Those moments felt like eternities, stretching on and on with only his desperate whispers. "Please..."

The world felt so still, so silent as if the world was holding its breath. Azriel's eyes locked on Irena, silently begging her, asking her to please, please...

Live, live live... he whispered those words over and over, a desperate plea to the Mother, the Cauldron, to anyone who would listen. To Irena, the only person in the entire world who truly mattered in that moment.

Her eyes were growing glassy, slipping closed only to jerk open again. Stay he demanded. Keep looking at me. Please.

She tried. Mother, she tried. Her eyes drifted to him, the smallest hint of life, of a spark there in those dark brown eyes.

He hardly dared to breathe, hardly dared to move. Afraid that any wrong move could tip her over the edge, could pull her into that chasm of non-existence that she was desperately clinging too.

He felt something pricking at his eyes, felt something in his chest cracking, breaking at the sheer intensity of emotions thrumming through him. It hurt. Hurt so much to see her like this, so pale, barely holding on, barely conscious...

“Alright,” Madja said quietly. “Good girl. You were so very brave.”

"Will...will she be alright?" He asked, voice hoarse.

He didn't let his eyes drift from Irena's face, her half lidded eyes staring at him. It filled him with such an intense pang of relief and fear at the same time. Relief, because she was alive...and fear, because they had been so close to losing her.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Madja warned. "But she'll make it. She lost a lot of blood. It will take some time to get her vitals stable again."

He felt like he could breathe for the first time. It was almost dizzying, the sheer, intense relief that flooded through him. Irena was here. Irena would live. It filled his veins with an almost drug like euphoria, that made him light headed, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.

He barely managed to keep that feeling in, the pure euphoria from showing as he smoothed a strand of hair back from her face. "Thank you," he whispered, voice hoarse, eyes finally dragging away from Irena's face to look at Madja. "Just...thank you."

He looked back at Irena, taking in her face. Alive. Still alive. Still here with him, not gone. The tension seeped from his shoulders, a strange sort of exhaustion taking over. As if all the adrenaline that had fueled him, the fear, was slowly draining out of him like water.

“Merrill,” Irena whispered, her voice near silent.

Azriel felt his fingers brush her cheek, just the gentlest touch as he tried to keep it together. It had been too close. Too, too close. He couldn't stop the overwhelming feelings flowing through him of elation and fear as he looked down at her as he looked down at her, alive. Alive and breathing and whispering soft words. "Shhh," he whispered softly. "Save your strength. Don't strain yourself."

He looked up finding Cassians gaze who just shook his head. Merrill was dead.

Azriel couldn't quite process that information, not in that moment. His eyes were still drawn to Irena, still unable to take his eyes off of her for more than a moment. His fingers brushed her cheek again, just the faintest touch as he pressed a small kiss to her forehead. "Rest," he instructed softly. "I'll be right there.” He promised.

“Being here to her room,” Madja said quietly.

“My room,” he corrected.

The priestesses dormitory was locked from males. If he even tried to get in there it would’ve end well for him. And he wouldn’t leave her side.

“Your room?” Gwyn asked sharply.

“Gwyn,” Rhys said quietly.Azriel didn't even acknowledge Gwyn's words, didn't have the energy. All he could focus on was the way Irena's eyes had drifted shut, the steady rise and fall of her chest. She would be alright. She was going to be alright. She was alive. Right now, in that moment, thats all that mattered.

“Az, how long have the two of you…” Cassian asked hesitantly.

Azriel just shrugged, his hand resting on Irena's hair, smoothing back from her face. “Two years. She’s my mate,” he said flatly as he gathered her up. 

“Mate,” she rasped. “Mine.”

“Yours,” he agreed softly.

[enwoso]

request for reader struggling/acting out because of their adhd or like teen!reader always in trouble with older members of the team for something because of going along with KCCs antics and pranks

HYPER — arsenal women x reader

this has been a long time coming! but it’s finally here!! BUT i do wanna say thank you for 600 followers. i appreciate each and every single one of you that reads and interacts with my blog — forehead kisses to you all<33

masterlist

being the youngest on the team had it's benefits like you were basically everyone's honorary little sister and you always had your teammates looking out for you. however with every benefit came with a bad thing like you always had your teammates looking out for you and watching your every move.

this meant that sometimes your fun got cut short by one of the older members and the lecture would begin. it was like being back at school again and being told off for flicking a pen at someone.

it's not like you liked being in trouble it just seamed to follow you for some reason.

"are we gonna have a good session today, y/n?" kim asked her eye brows rising slightly as you both walked out to training side by side, you smiling innocently, "i always have a good session kimmy!"

you giggled rushing off, kim sighing saying her prays for the day in her head that everything would run soomthly today. although that innocent- or non so innocent smile you just flashed the captain told her everything she needed.

you running ahead to find your right hand, in the name of kyra cooney-cross. or as the rest of the squad would call her your partner in crime.

"hey kyra!" you yelled jumping onto her back, your arms wrapping tightly around her neck as the australian's knees seemed to buckle and within seconds you were both on the ground kicking at each other as you rolled along the grass in fits of giggles.

"y/n get.. off of me!" kyra got out in between laughs as you defended yourself back, "no krya you get off me!"

"girls! get up off the floor now!" the stern voice of leah williamson yelled over your giggles as her shadow covered you both. quickly breaking up knowing not to really push your luck with the blonde, although sometimes you liked to just to see how far you could push until the frown on her face became permanent.

you both mumbling a quick sorry before being called over by the coaches so that the outdoor session could actually begin. the frown on leah’s face staying in place.

the outdoor session went over quicker than you thought it would, the slight drizzle of rain making an appearance towards the end meaning your kit was slightly sticking to you but nevertheless it was lunch time, you and kyra were walking at the back of everyone else discussing you next plan of action.

“today’s been well boring! wanna cause some havoc?” you questioned a smile on your face as kyra almost immediately nodded, you never needed to ask kyra twice.

“who’s the victim?” kyra asked as you hummed, trying to rack your brain on whose buttons in a while. “oh i wouldn’t say victim, let’s just say we’re checking their alert!” you grinned.

“um well we can’t get katie cause she’ll probably hang me upside down on the ceiling, we got vic last week with the fake apple” you listed off, krya saying names quietly to you.

“steph will definitely rat us out to leah and lessi is still annoyed at us for the hot sauce so- oh i know” you were still listing off names before having a light blub moment light up in your head, a loud gasp coming from you as kyra looked on at you in confusion.

“who?”

“beth, of course!”

"right whose hid my shoe!" beth complained as she huffed, her other shoe hanging limp by her side in her hand.

the room filling with 'i don't knows' and shrugs as majority went back to getting a drink before getting ready to head into the gym for the afternoon session. beth looking around the room for her shoe, peering at kyra's side.

"kyra, where's y/n put my shoe? i won't tell kim if you just tell me where it is" beth raised an eyebrow trying to try the bribe game, the older girl knowing you both never liked to have a lecture from either kim or leah.

cause in your eyes, your weren't causing trouble. you were just giving people a little bit of entertainment.

kyra gave a small smile to beth before shrugging, beth trying again to pry and answer from the young australian but getting no where.

beth huffing loudly, as she moved closer to you. "y/n where is my shoe?" she spoke with sweet tone as you finished zipping up your bag turning to the blonde.

"bethany your shoe is in your hand?" you pointed to the trainer as beth rolled her eyes blowing a sharp breathe of air out of her mouth pinching her nose.

"y/n i know one of my shoes in my hand, but i don’t have only one foot, and i know you know where the other one is!"

"nah i don't sorry" you shrugged your shoulders turning back to what you were doing hearing beth scoff, "i'll be telling leah!" she mumbled under her breath, it was just a empty threat. beth wouldn't snitch, right.

you put your own trainers on as beth still wondered the room looking for her shoe as you made you way to the gym for your session.

your gym session went over quite quickly and thankfully it was home time, you limbs were aching and you couldn't wait to just lie in your own bed. however, during the session you couldn't help but notice the stern look leah had been sending your way the entire time.

and even though leah would usually always have a stern look on her face this one you'd seen more times than you'd like to admit.

it was never a good sign.

"your in trouble kid!" steph whispered as she walked past you, patting you on the shoulder before walking in front of you.

"what, why! i haven't done anything!" you huffed a frown appearing on your face as steph turned around and shrugged before walking ahead to catch up with lia. you had done something but that was harmless, and it was the only thing you’d done today!

you decided that the best way to stay out of trouble was to avoid leah like the plague. that way if you didn’t get the lecture from the older blonde then really it never happened! at least that’s how your brain worked, call it a form of girl math!

however, you hadn’t been lucky in escaping the blonde as she cornered you in the locker room meaning there was no way out you were going to have to listen to her lecture.

huffing you sat back down on the bench, leah sitting down beside you. now not blocking off the entrance, and you’d be lying if you hadn’t thought about making a run for it but that would have made it ten times worse for yourself so you stayed rooted to the bench in the changing room.

“y/n you know i hate having this conversation with you, both me and kim get bored having to tell you the same thing-“ leah began as you played the string of your bag, leah looking at you with softened eyes.

“don’t get me wrong i want you to have fun, and enjoy training but you need to learn the limit” leah carried on as you nodded, okay maybe sometimes you would take it a little far but harmless jokes were fine, surely!

“cause do you still wanna make the senior squad for the euros?” leah asked as your head perked up, that was the goal. you had your eyes on the prize and you were willing to do anything to make sure you could be there. wanting to create history with the lionesses like they did at the last world cup and euros.

“yeah, i wanna be there”

leah nodded, “well you’re going to have to start and be a bit more mature y/n because not only what your like on the pitch but sarina takes into account of what a players like off the pitch”

you understood that but sometimes you could help it, it was as if sometimes when trouble happened it wasn’t you. it was someone else — it may sound silly to the average person. but you weren’t always the silly childish person.

“cause the senior team won’t stand for that, does that make sense” leah finished as you nodded, a sad smile on your face.

“heard you loud and clear!” you looked up letting go of the string of your bag as leah sighed a breath of relief.

“good now let’s get you home and we’ll have a better day tomorrow?” leah asked as she stood up first, picking up her bag as you nodded following the same actions as leah swung her arm around your shoulder as you both walked out of the training facility.

“your life would be so boring with out me!” you giggled as leah pressed the unlock button on her car keys, you already having put your training bag in the boot before getting into the passenger seat.

“maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing eh?” leah mutter as a small gasp came from you, “hey, i’m not that bad”

“whatever helps you sleep at night kiddo!”

[gadriezmannsgirl]

I suddenly got a wave of inspiration and several fics are going to be done today (Hopefully at least two) , so first fic out!

Also I just realized that this past February 24th (Or 26th, Idk) was my first ever post in this place, so happy anniversary to this blog and to this piece!

Night Out Problems -P.G6

Summary: A night out in which you had a little too much to drink

You giggled once again at your friend's mistakes, you two were singing at the top of your lungs in the backseat of a car

"Así no va, tonta" (That's not how it goes, silly) You giggled "It's got me looking so crazy right now, your love's got me looking so crazy right now" You corrected while laughing

"She repeats it?"

"Then how else is it?"

"Isn't there something page me?" You look at her

"What?" You said after a minute of silence before you two broke in laughter

"Y/N, we're here" Your best friend's, Melissa's boyfriend, Frank says "Are you good to go or should I call-?"

"I'm good, I'm good"

"Sure?" You opened the car door and went to get out but almost met the floor "Ok, no, I need help"

"I'm calling your boy" He said getting out of the car and estabilizing you

"Pabs?" You asked excited and he hums, you heard the singing of your friend "¡Loca, bajale a la voz!" (You crazy woman, lower your voice!)

"Hermano" You soon heard another male voice greeting you by the car "Gracias por traerla" (Thanks for bringing her back)

"No worries, bro. Everything's good"

"Have a good night, text when you both get home please" Frank nods

"Have a good night guys and Y/N" He called you as you look at Frank "I'm glad you're getting your degree"

"Oh shush as if you sing any better" Both guys laughed as you watched how Frank got in the car and drove off

"Venga, c'mon Amor. Let's go inside"

"I'm not your amor, muchacho. I'm waiting for my boyfriend to come here"

"Oh yeah?" You hum nodding "Where's he?"

"Inside that" You point out your house "house"

"Bueno but let's go closer so we are not standing in the middle of the road"

"Only because I don't want to get run over by a car, my boyfriend wouldn't like that"

"I bet he wouldn't" He said shaking his head "Don't you perhaps have a key to enter?"

"You might be so good looking but I'm not entering with you here, I'll wait for my boy" The guy smiled

"Venga bebé, let's go inside, it's 3am" He tried touching you but you pushed his hands away

"No" You say "I'm going to call my boyfriend if you keep that up"

"Call him then"

"I will" You pulled your phone out only to see the call didn't go through "I don't have signal?" You look at the guy who has a smirk on his face and one of his eyebrows up "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Nothing. Don't mind me" He crossed his arms around his chest letting you see his muscles.

But you didn't let that fool you, you had a boyfriend and you wanted your boyfriend now.

So, you narrowed your eyes looking at him

"Why are you looking at me now?"

"You know, for very weird reasons you look exactly like my boyfriend"

"Do I?" You nod

"But he doesn't have a brother. Or that's what I know. So, you are not him"

"Why I'm not him?"

"Because he has beard and you are clean shaved"

"That's because I shaved in the afternoon"

"Yeah, he knows that's my thing to do"

"Alright, amor. I'm truly tired and I have recovery session at 10am today. What do you need for me to prove I'm your boyfriend?"

"Nothing because you're not! My boyfriend is Pablo Páez, a football player mostly known by Gavi, you're not him and once he finds out you're hitting on me, he'll be so pissed at you" The guy's smirk keep growing each time "And stop making fun of me"

"You said you wanted to call your boyfriend?" You nod "Try again this time without the airplane mode on" You look at your phone to see the airplane on top of your settings

"Oh!" You looked up at him "I'll call him now" You took a few steps off the stairs and almost fell making the guy come to you "No! I'm good, I'm good. Don't need to touch what's not yours" You said and dialed your boyfriend

A few rings went by only to hear his phone ring behind you, you turn around seeing the guy with the phone in his ear

"Go ahead" He smiled widely "¿Qué querías decirme, preciosa?" (What did you wanted to tell me, pretty girl?)

"You are my boyfriend!" You smiled widely "My lord, I have such a good taste in men. You're the prettiest boy I've ever seen" You giggled coming up the stairs once again to wrap your arms around him

"You said not to touch what's not mine?"

"But you're my boyfriend, I'm yours and you're minee" You dragged the 'e' out "That's why you looked exactly like my boyfriend, because you are!" You laughed squishing his cheeks

"Yes, I am" He said in between your hands

"So prettyyyy" You said "Why don't you open the door? I wanna lay on top of you, cuddle and kiss you so bad. God, you look so comfy, how is that even possible?" Pablo laughs at you buried depp into his chest, your voice coming out muffled

"Thank god, I'm recording this, you wouldn't believe it"

"Are you recording?" He hums as you grab his hand pulling it up to your mouth "Whatup girl?-

"You need to marry this man like as soon as possible, he's the love of your life and he's so perfect, you wouldn't believe it"

You groan hearing your voice as you grab a bite of the sandwich your boyfriend made for you "Please, stop that, even thought I mean it, I was drunk as hell"

"There's no need to be embarrassed about it, amor" Pablo laughed wrapping his strong arms around you and kissing your neck, the recording still playing "You are the love of my life as well, you're the perfect girl for me and I do plan on getting down on my knee and propose, just waiting for the right time"

"I would say yes anytime"

"That's good to know" He smiled "Can I pull this audio in our wedding?"

"Definitely not"

"Oh, c'mon! Why not?"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[strvngeweather]

It's All Greek to Me; a one shot.

🕮 PAIRING: collegetutor!jimin x partygirl!reader 🕮 GENRE: College AU, smut 🕮 WORD COUNT: 4.8k 🕮 WARNINGS: Smut, Smut, Smut 🕮 SUMMARY: After failing your college classes, you need a tutor. But if tutor, why so damn hot? 🕮 AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally going to be a full-length fanfic, but I decided to make it a short one. I still may expand on it. Let me know what you guys think. Also, my bestie gave me the idea when she said, "Jimin look like he likes ass." LMAO.

Despite your hatred for hangovers, you always ended up with one.

Today was no exception. As the resident party girl at Loren University, there was no way you would ever miss a weekend rager, but as your alarm clock went off for the fifth time that morning, you began cursing at yourself. Maybe going to a party on a Sunday night wasn’t a good idea.

Scheduling a tutoring session at eight in the morning was an even worse idea.

You had many strong suits, but English wasn’t one of them. It was the one subject you had struggled with since you were in high school. Analyzing the words of dead white men from centuries ago was just about as much fun as watching paint dry. Numbers were much more your thing. They were easy and in the words of Cady Heron, ‘Math was the same in every language.’

But you needed to pass. It’s not as if you were here on your parents’ dime like the other kids. You were a scholarship kid and if your grades slipped, so did you. Out the doors and on your ass. So, when you got your last paper back with a big fat ‘D’ written on it, you knew it was time to take action. And that meant getting a tutor.

You just happened to forget that today, on this bright and early morning, with a pounding headache and dry mouth, you were supposed to be meeting him.

Again, you ask, who the fuck schedules a tutoring session at eight in the morning?

With a groan, you grab your phone, hoping to hit the ‘snooze’ button on your alarm one more time before you really had to get up but when your eyes read the time you realize that it’s damn near eight-thirty. How many times have you hit the snooze button? You wonder but realize you’re only wasting more time. Without a second thought, you hop out of bed and into the bathroom, brushing your teeth and running a comb through your curly hair. Your make-up is smudged, and you still have on the shimmering dress from last night but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You grab a hoodie off your desk chair and hightail it to the school’s library.

.

Inside study room 007, you find a very annoyed, albeit very handsome senior waiting at the table. Laid out in front of him are a stack of books, notebooks, and flash cards. Pens and pencils are lined up neatly in a row. He all but glares at you as enter. Before you can speak, he glances at his watch and then looks back at you. “You’re late.”

“I know,” you say, out of breath. “I got caught up …” you scramble, trying to think of a lie instead of admitting you had spent the night throwing ass to Megan thee Stallion and Cardi B but your folder of excuses in the very back of your brain shows up empty. That might be for the best, you realize as you look over your tutor.

“Partying?” He finishes the sentence for you. His eyes rake over you in judgment. “Maybe that’s why you’re failing English.”

Now wait a damn minute. You scoff, crossing your arms. Your brain is foggy, you desperately need a glass of water – and, not to mention, your skin feels beyond icky. The last thing you can do right now is come up with a proper comeback so the only thing you manage to utter is, “Or maybe English is just hard.”

“You speak it every day, how hard could it be?”

“Whatever,” you say, sitting down across from him.  “Can we just … start?”

Jimin checks his watch again. “We might as well. We’ve got thirty minutes left. Let’s make the most of it.”

“I thought I had you for an hour.”

“Yes, and you were late so that hour has turned into thirty minutes. I’ve got things to do, Ms. L/N. I can’t wait around for you all day,” he replies, picking up a black ballpoint pen. “Let’s get started.”

“I’d much prefer it if you called me, Y/N,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “And you’re Jimin, correct?”

He nods curtly. “Alright, Ms. L/N, your form said you have an upcoming paper that focuses on the themes from Nella Larsen’s Passing. What part of the story are you at?”

You roll your eyes but choose not to correct him about your name and instead just answer his question. “I’m not on any part.”

His eyes brighten. “You mean you’ve already finished? Well, great, let’s jump right into discussion –”

“No,” you cut him off. “I’m not on any part because I haven’t started the book.”

Jimin looks at you as if you grew another head. “Your essay for the book is due next week. The book is less than two hundred pages. What do you mean you haven’t started yet?”

You shrug. “I figured since it’s such a short book I could probably finish it and write the essay in the same day.”

“And what day were you planning on doing that since our study session is right now?”

That day was last night but as you both knew you had gotten caught up with … other things. “I guess I figured we’d start the book together and I’d just get the essay done next week.”

Jimin sighs. “Ms. L/N, whatever you manage to vomit onto paper will not bring your grade up in the slightest if you follow your method. I guarantee that.”

You find yourself rolling your eyes – again. “That’s what you’re here for. You’re my tutor so tutor me in the right direction.” Jimin studies you for a moment and then he begins carefully putting his things away into his messenger bag.  “Wait. What are you doing?”

“Ms. L/N, you can reach out to me once you’ve read the book but until then, we have nothing to discuss. I only meet with students who are serious about their education,” he places his bag over his shoulder and nods toward you. “Have a good day.”

“Um, hello! You can’t just leave,” you say, getting out of your chair.

“I can and I am,” Jimin replies, and with that, he walks out of the study room. You begin to follow him but decide against it. What good would that do? He was rude and had judged you from the moment you walked in the door. You didn’t need a tutor like that.

You decided you were going to go to the campus café, buy a large coffee, and then go home to take a much-needed shower.

. . . .

“He was a jerk,” you tell your best friend, Winter, taking a long sip of your mango-pineapple smoothie. “He left right in the middle of our session.”

Every Tuesday was the same. A morning class and then a lunch date with your bestie, Winter, at your favorite smoothie place about twenty minutes away from campus.

She shakes her head but not at him. “Y/N, I love you, but you were late. You didn’t read the material, and you had the nerve to have an attitude. I would have walked out on you too.”

Harsh but it was the truth. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were somewhat at fault too. “Okay, but I’m saying, he didn’t have to be rude about it though.”

“What’d he look like?”

“He would be fine as hell if he wasn’t so rude,” you answer honestly.

She shakes her head, amused. “What did you end up getting on your essay anyway?”

After the last encounter with Jimin, you decided you’d find another tutor, but in the meantime, you were going to stick with your tried and true. You did exactly what you had told Jimin you would do. You read most of the book in one evening and managed to type up a paper in the same night, confident that you had aced it. But when you looked online, checking your grade, you realized Jimin had been right. Regardless, you weren’t going back to him.

You sigh. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” Winter replies. “Because if Jimin is right, then I think you should give him a call.”

“Jimin Parker?”

You and Winter look up to see Jennie Kim hovering above you. Her freshly dyed blonde hair cascaded in waves down her slender face. You may have been the resident party girl, but Jen was the resident party queen.

“Hey Jen,” you say, motioning for her to take a seat. “Yeah, Jimin Parker. You know him?”

She sits between you and Winter. “You mean that gorgeous senior? Ugh, I had him as a tutor last semester.”

“How’d he do?” Winter says, giving you a knowing look.

You lean forward. Jennie was known for many things but having good grades was not one of them. In fact, you wondered how she managed to make it this far without being kicked out. But, if Jimin could manage to get her grades up, then he truly was a miracle worker.

“Amazing,” Jen gushes. “I got an A on my last three papers. I wanted him again this semester but apparently, he’s all booked up.”

You groan as Winter gives you another look. You pull your cell phone out of your pocket and dial Jimin. “Hello?” You reply as he answers. “Hi, yeah, Jimin, it’s Y/N. I was wondering if we could set up a session …”

…

For his sake (and mostly yours) you schedule an afternoon session and this time, you show up prepared. When he arrives, he’s shocked to see you already in the study room.

“Good afternoon,” he says, rounding the table to sit across from you. You get a whiff of his cedarwood cologne. “I see you’re on time.”

“I’m early,” you correct him. “You’re on time.”

“That I am,” he says, taking a seat. You watch him closely as he carefully takes out various pens and pencils, notebooks, and flashcards. He really is handsome, you think, even if he is an ass. “I see we’re studying Oedipus Rex by Sophocles?”

You nod your head. “I read it. I don’t understand it.”

“What exactly don’t you understand?”

“Not a single word in that book. They might as well be speaking Greek.”

He sighs. “Well, it is a Greek book.”

“Clearly,” you reply. “So where do we start?”

“I guess at the beginning.”

. . . .

Things were going smoothly. You found yourself actually understanding the material and surprisingly, enjoying it. But you also found yourself getting lost in Jimin at times. The more time you spent with him, the more you developed a crush. Your mind would wander as your eyes looked over him. You wondered how soft his full lips were. You wondered what his eyes looked like in moments of passion. You wondered how good it would feel to be wrapped up in his strong arms.

Your eyes were on his arms when he called your name. “Huh?”

“I asked did you want to go over the scene between Antigone and Polynices again?”

You shake your head. “No, I think I understand. Antigone wants him to call off the war, but Polynices’ pride won’t let him.”

“Correct,” Jimin replies with a smile.

Fuck, you think. Jimin had a smile that would make anyone melt. “Jimin,” you begin and mentally kick yourself for what you’re about to ask but you’ve started so you might as well finish. You put on your best flirtatious smile. “What do I get if I ace my next paper?”

He seems to know what you’re hinting at. “You get an A and the satisfaction of knowing your hard work paid off.”

Well, if that wasn’t a blaring rejection, you don’t know what is. “Do you have a girlfriend?” You blurt it out before your brain can even process whether the question was appropriate or not.

He blinks, slightly taken aback. “Yes, yes, I do. Why?”

You shrug, trying to be as nonchalant as possible even though you feel as if you’ve just gotten stung by a million honeybees. “No reason. You just seem so into your academics; I didn’t think you had time for that kind of stuff.”

“Well, a human being still needs a social life to thrive,” he replies coolly. “Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nod. “Yes, and his name is Jose Cuervo.”

He laughs. “I’m sure you have a line of men knocking on your door.”

“Nobody I want though,” you say, mostly to yourself.

. . . .

If crushing on him wasn’t enough, now you were dreaming about him. A week of erotic dreams plagued you. They felt so real. You could smell his signature cologne as he pushed in and out of you, your legs on his shoulders and his arms wrapped around your thick thighs. Each dream ended the same though, just as he was about to finish, your alarm would wake you up and you would spend a good five minutes finishing yourself off before getting ready for the day.

Instead of a study room at the library, Jimin asked you to meet him at his apartment for the study session. He mentioned something about time constraints, appointments, and being unable to book a study room but your brain had been stuck on, “Wanna meet me at my apartment? We can have a quick recap sesh before I have to run out?” He could barely finish his question before you agreed to it.

So, sue you for being curious.

It’s not like anything will happen, you thought as you parked, he has a girlfriend.  You arrived twenty minutes early. Your excitement had gotten the best of you and you knew how much Jimin liked it when you were on time. When you knocked on the door, a man almost as handsome as Jimin answered.

“You must be Y/N?” he asked, sticking out his hand. “I’m Taehyung.”

You nodded, the thought of becoming a Wattpad heroine and having two incredibly attractive men fight over you danced around in your head. You shook his hand. “Nice to meet you, Taehyung.”

As he let you in, he explained he had somewhere to be, but that Jimin was in his room and to head right in. You gave the door a light knock but didn’t receive an answer. The door was slightly ajar, giving you the smallest view of a very neat bedroom. You spotted Jimin at his desk, looking at something on his large computer monitor. It looked familiar. Your curiosity ate at you, forcing your hand to ever-so-gently open the door further. This time you could see what Jimin was looking at clearly.

It was you. It was your Instagram feed. He was scrolling through your pictures, pausing at every photo that was a bit risqué.

“Fuck, Y/N …”

That was your name. Leaving his lips. In a moan. Your heart fluttered with excitement. But wait, was he …

As you tilt your head to get a better view, you can see the tip of his elbow on the armrest, bobbing up and down. And up and down. And up and down.

Oh, he definitely was.

You slap a hand over your mouth and tiptoe back to the living room. A few minutes later, you hear a shower turn on and ten minutes after that, you see Jimin emerge in a navy blue V-neck and a pair of grey sweatpants.

“Hey,” Jimin looks at you with a face full of guilt. You can’t help but smile. “How long have you been waiting?”

“I just got here a few minutes ago,” you lie, looking up from your phone that you were pretending to be engrossed in. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Good, good,” he says. “Let’s go to the kitchen. The lighting is better in there.”

. . . .

After three weeks of hard work and several study sessions, you submit your paper with all the confidence of Scott Disick. Winter, the best friend that she is, decided that this was the best time to reward your good behavior with a couple of jello shots at your favorite bar. You gobble up the first two and then decide to sip on a blue Long Island iced tea. That’s when you spot him. Sitting in a corner, next to his roommate and another man with tattoos up and down his arms. Instead of his usual tweed blazer and grey slacks, his outfit looks more modern, more casual. A white graphic tee hugs his toned body, and you can’t help but eye his biceps. His cheeks are slightly red, his eyes are glossy and he’s laughing harder than you’ve ever seen him laugh. He looks delicious but you turn around and decide to order another shot from the bar.

You spot Winter getting her mack on with a fellow classmate, Karina, and it’s then you realize that you’re probably going to be alone for the rest of the night. Just as you begin to grab your wallet to pay your tab, a familiar figure approaches you.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he’s wearing a smile you’ve never seen before, and it makes your insides flutter.

“I could say the same thing,” you reply. “I never thought I’d see Jimin Park in a bar.”

“I don’t spend all my time in the library,” Jimin says.

“Could have fooled me,” you tease, taking a sip of your drink. “What brings you out among people?”

He orders a whiskey sour before turning to you. “I, Y/N L/N, am finally a single man. My girlfriend of two years has decided that she no longer wants me.”

He’s smiling but you can see sadness behind his glossy eyes. “I’m sorry,” you say earnestly. “Her loss.”

“Oh definitely,” he says with a slight slur. “You want to know the real reason she broke up with me?”

You shrug. “Lay it on me.”

He leans in close, so close his body is pressed up against yours. He angles his lips to your ear and whispers, “I was too much for her.”

“Oh …”

“Yeah,” his words spill out in a rush, his eyes darkening as they take you in. They pause at your mini-skirt before crawling up your body slowly. You suddenly feel exposed, as if he just completely undressed you, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t love it. His voice lowers to a sultry whisper, “You don’t seem like that though.”

“Seem like that?”

“Like I’d be too much for you.”

“In what way?” You ask, genuinely curious.

He leans toward you, his lips brushing past your ear, forcing every hair on the back of your neck to stand up. “Sexual. You look like a good girl who knows how to take a pounding.”

A million thoughts ran through your head as Jimin broke out into a sardonic laugh. You were called back to that time you caught him masturbating to your pictures. You began to wonder if the prim and proper Jimin was just a façade to hide the sexual deviant he really was. His eyes look over you in a way they never have, and you swore they were clouded with lust. He licks his full lips, and you want nothing more than to kiss them, but you don’t. Instead, you take a step back and laugh, motioning to his roommate. Jimin was drunk and even though it looked like he wanted to bend you over the bar and give it to you, you knew better than to take advantage of a drunk man.

….

A week later, when you enter the study room, the moment you and Jimin exchange glances, you feel awkward. He looks embarrassed as he gestures for you to sit down.

“We need to talk,” he says. “I want to apologize about the other night at the bar.”

“It’s okay, I barely even gave it a second thought,” you lie. You had thought about that moment ever since it happened.

“No, it was inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way.”

“Jimin, you were drunk, it’s fine. Besides, it was nice to see a different side to you,” you reassured him with a smile.

“That’s not a side that I would like to be representative of who I am,” Jimin admits. “I don’t want to be known as the guy who makes people uncomfortable.”

You laugh. “Believe me, I was the farthest thing from uncomfortable.”

He locks eyes with you for a moment before clearing his throat and motioning toward your phone. “Have you checked your grades yet?”

You gasp, suddenly remembering the paper you had submitted a week earlier. You quickly bring up your most recent webpage, searching for the most recent grade listing. As your eyes glance over your paper and the notes, you realize that Jimin lived up to his reputation. You get up, shoving the phone in his face, squealing.

His eyes brighten, and he gets up as well. “You got an A!”

Without thinking, you throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug. Jimin, to your surprise, doesn’t push away. Instead, he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. You take the moment to breathe in his intoxicating scent. The both of you remain intertwined far longer than you both know is appropriate but for some reason, neither one of you makes the move to let go.

Finally, Jimin relents first. He stares you in the face and says quietly, “I knew you could do it.”

You let out a small laugh. “I couldn’t do it without you. Thank you, Jimin”

“As a reward, we can end the session ten minutes early today,” Jimin replies and sits back down.

You find yourself shaking your head. “Can I request a different reward?”

Jimin looks up at you and nods. You look around the small study space. The room you chose was in the back, the library was relatively empty today and the small window the room provided was on the door and could easily be covered up the shade provided. You mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to say next. Things could go downhill, fast, depending on his reaction. Still, you steady yourself, look Jimin in the eyes and say, “I want a kiss.”

“What?”

“A kiss,” you repeat confidently. “I want you to kiss me as a reward.”

“I can’t kiss you,” he replies back, taking study materials out of his messenger bag. “That would be highly ina –”

“Jimin, if you don’t want to kiss me, just say so but don’t use the tutor-student relationship as a reason.”

He sighs. “I …” You watch as he struggles to find the right words.

“You were right about me,” you say, giving him a flirtatious smirk. “At the bar. I can take a good pounding.”

His face turns a beet-red, but he quickly recovers. He stands, walking to stand in front of you. “Just one kiss?”

“One kiss,” you repeat.

He leans in and places a soft kiss on your lips, lingering for only a few seconds before breaking the kiss. “That good?”

You shake your head. “I hardly think that’s worth all the work I put in.”

He smiles, genuinely amused, and says, “Really?”

You nod. “Maybe if it was longer …”

Jimin sighs. “Y/N, if it’s longer, you know what that will lead to …”

“Then let it lead to that,” you challenge, you push. “I don’t know why you have to act so anal-retentive all the time. Not everything has to be perfect. Just k—”

He cuts you off with a deeper kiss. It’s slow and sensual. His hands wrap around your waist, one of them running down the curve of your ass as he palms it slowly, indulging in the fleshy softness. You can feel his dick hardening on your thigh as he slips a tongue into your mouth.

Jimin is using both hands to palm your ass now, his dick grinding into you and a low, deep, moan leaves his mouth forcing an electric sensation to shoot down your spine and vibrate in your core.

“You sure you want this?” he asks through a searing kiss.

“Yes,” you think you say but you’re not sure. Your head is spinning that this is actually happening.

He responds by lifting your pleated skirt and smacking your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room. Fingertips dance between your ass crack, and he uses a knee to part your legs slightly further. You break the kiss, throwing your head back as you feel Jimin’s fingertips slowly rub your pussy from the back. He slips a finger into your underwear, running it up and down your slit.

“How long have you wanted this?” He asks, nipping at your neck. “You’re already so fucking wet.” You try to answer but all that comes out is a moan as he slips another finger inside. “Shh,” he tells you. “You want the whole library to hear you?”

He gives you a bit of a reprieve when his hands slip away. You watch as he pulls out one of the chairs and sits, beckoning for you to stand in front of him. Your skirt is still at your waist, so he pulls your underwear down before pulling you close. You feel his large hands grope your ass again, peppering kisses up and down your hips. Another smack echoes through the room before he uses a hand to caress clit. You move your hips in response, holding on to the table for balance.

He pauses. “Turn around and bend over.” He doesn’t have to ask you twice. You obey, and not a second later, you feel him placing one of your legs up on the study table. “Arch that back, baby.” Your ass juts out just a little more as you follow his directions. A moment later you feel a cool, wet, sensation going up and down the slit of your core. It’s slow at first, as if he’s taking the time to let the taste of you marinate on his tongue but he quickly picks up his pace. The tip of his tongue flickering over your clit. Meanwhile, you can feel his thumb, massaging your anus.

Jimin was an ass man, and he was making that very clear.

Both hands were gripping your ass now as he guided your pussy over his tongue. You work your hips in tandem, stifling a loud moan as your world begins to go white.

But he wasn’t done with you yet.

He moves his tongue from your pussy up to your anus, and you jerk, having never quite felt something like this before. You can hear an amused laugh leave Jimin’s throat as he begins to massage your ass with his tongue. His fingers working your pussy, begging for another orgasm. You oblige, your wetness dripping all over his fingertips.

“Don’t move,” he demands. You can hear his belt unbuckling, followed by the tips of his dick moving up and down your incredibly wet slit. He slides it in with the patience of a saint, excruciatingly slow, forcing whimpers out of you, begging him to go faster. “You sure you want it faster?”

“Please,” you moan.

“Please, what?”

“Please, Jimin,” you manage to utter out.

He gives you your wish and begins to pound you like he said he would. His pace quickens and you can feel every inch of him inside of you. Your pussy wraps around him which causes him to smack your ass, and a deep moan leaves his lips.

You realize he can’t have all the fun though and you begin to throw it back on him, your ass bouncing against him, and he lets you. You can hear your wetness as you begin to drain his dick. You can hear his low grunts of satisfaction as you pick up your pace and when you look back, you can see his dark eyes looking at you in a way you never wanted to stop. “Good fucking girl,” he whispers in a low voice.

You make eye contact which forces him to grip your hips and pound into you harder, faster (stronger).  “One more time baby,” he says to you, maintaining eye contact. “Cum on this dick.” You had already been close, and his words only sent you over the edge further than you had ever gone. You close your eyes, your body shaking in pleasure as you have your third orgasm on his dick.

He follows suit, his cum shooting deep inside of you. You feel his body on top of yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Was that worth all your hard work?’ He asks.

“I think I’ll have to get A’s for the rest of the year,” you reply.

“The rest of your life.”

[the-offside-rule]

Drivers while their s/o studies

Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )

Charles Leclerc

Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.

Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."

Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.

Max Verstappen

Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"

"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."

As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."

A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.

Lando Norris

Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.

The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.

Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.

Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"

"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.

Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!

His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.

Carlos Sainz Jr.

As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.

In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.

When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.

Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."

She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."

George Russell

George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.

"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."

She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."

"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."

"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."

Lance Stroll

Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."

Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.

Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.

"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.

"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"

"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."

[goldsbitch]

That one missed lecture

part 3 to That one Christmas flight

summary: After a missed moment, both parties are trying to contemplate what to do next.

warnings: crushing hard, cheesy af, swear words I guess, typos probably, slow burn let's just admit that

"A what?"

Surely she must have misheard Teresa. Yes. Lando has been on Y/N's mind so much these past few days that she has officially lost it.

"Sorry, not what. Who?"

"I dunno, apparently this like formula racer or something. I don't really understand it - so like we were at Al Bricco right, as usual. And there was this guy who seemed to be super into that sport and he totally freaked out. Like, the racer guy just went in and immediately left, kind of embarrassing. He like proper asked for a photo and shit. And after the racer guy left, this dude was so high off that he paid for everyone's drinks at the bar. Was nice! Shame you had the thing you had, or whatever."

Yes. Or whatever. Y/N made up some excuse for last evening, so mundane even she forgot what it was.

It was Monday afternoon after the Imola weekend. The philosophy lesson was about to start in few minutes. Y/N cursed Teresa for keeping this one tiny detail about yesterday. For fuck's sake, they'd already had two classes together today! Plenty of opportunity to mention this. Nobody famous ever came to Bologna. Y/N would expect Teresa to make it a bigger deal. But then again, usually it would not be a big deal for neither of you.

"Yeah, shame I didn't order a bottle instead of a glass," Teresa proclaimed.

"Did you see him? The racer guy?"

"Yeah. He looked like a guy, honestly nothing special about him."

"Do you know like his name or the team?"

"No, the fuck would I know that. You're focusing on the wrong thing - you missed a fun night with free drinks."

Y/N felt like her mind just got the DRS.

There were 20 drivers on the grid - the chances were low. Y/N overcame her initial shock and tried to focus on the lecture that was about to start.

For some reason Hegel's Lord-bondsman dialectic was not able to win in the battle for Y/N's attention today. Since Teresa was of little help, Y/N turned to social media. Surely, this fan must have shared his photo online. And then, once she finally discovers the photo of Ocon or Tsunoda, she will be abel to return back to her actual real problems instead of her schoolgirl crush.

They say if you need to find the "corpus delicti" these days, ask a woman to scan social media. Source more powerful than FBI.

Y/N had to excuse herself after staring at a photo of Lando's fake smile while standing in her favorite bar. Pacing around was required right now. After all, show us a problem that can't be fixed by maniacally walking around the block seven hundred times.

In her favorite bar. Lando was in her bar. In a bar, where she would have been, hadn't it been for her actually trying to track down Lando. Out of all the places on this gigantic planet. In. Her. Favorite. Bar. Must have been some random game of destiny. Y/N was getting real mad at destiny. She cursed the stupid Christmas tradition, she cursed ever getting herself involved with formula 1.

She cursed herself for missing him. In both meanings of the word.

//

Lando forgot when exactly had his burner account turned completely Bologna centered. But it was impossible to escape that city. So he decided to leave that account be for a while.

His fitness trainer must have been happy with him. Lando burned his the tension and confused mix of feelings in his session like his life depended on it. He went on to stream in his free time to check in on his friends, who seemed a bit confused on where his head had been lately. In the course of few days, life got back on track. Y/N slowly leaving his mind and he parting with it peacefully. Yet every was covered under a gray cloud of nothingness.

It was a simulator day for him. He was supposed be testing new configurations. Lando was never really good at simulators, it completely lacked the realness of it, so he had to push himself to stay professional and be a proper teammate.

"I'm just not sure about this breaking set up," he commented quietly, perhaps even more to himself than others after missing another turn. His engineer however picked up on it and started to get into super detailed explanation on why they wanted him to use this configuration and did not fail to mention how great it job it did for Oscar this morning. Lando simply nodded and did not bother to engage in eye contact. He was in no mood for this debate and kept staring at the screen. Just let it all flow by him. This engineer had been on the team for quite some time, so he did not hesitate to try and cheer him up.

"Come on, man. You can't just sit there. The car won't start if you don't go for it, you know?" he said as a joke. When Lando did not respond, he began to second guess his judgement. "Or we could just take a break, what ever suits you."

Lando took a deep breath. "No, you're right. I can't just sit here and do nothing." He turned to his engineer with a different more energetic look. "When I crash, we just start again next time, am I right?"

"That's my boy!"

//

Y/N woke up the next morning to suspiciously large amount of notifications on her Instagram account. Someone liked every single one of her pictures and few of those where she was tagged and commented on one of her selfies "nice". Curious to what this was about, she went and checked the profile out. The only thing present on it was a black and white photo with some random numbers and letters. Ok, so nothing. Just some random weirdo or a drunken joke of one the uni friends. Because for a single moment she allowed her intrusive thoughts in - and expected Lando's account to be the one liking it.

Contemplating breaking the rule and reaching out to him was the only thing occupying her yesterday's evening. But what good would that do, his account probably being run by some PR people who would dismiss it as just another fangirl trying her chances. She thought a photo might be more helpful, but it was just the same thing all over again. No, she missed her chance and it was time to start moving on.

Her usual morning brain fog breaking espresso at a coffee bar in the centre did it's job well. A lot of paragraphs she was due to write were waiting on her. Only one lecture in the afternoon. A nice calm day to spend in one of the libraries. She loved Bologna. Great food and ever-present history has cured many crushes through out the ages.

"also nice" -another notification from the same account. Y/N contemplated blocking it, but it just seemed rude, so she just silenced her phone.

When took her phone out to listen to some music on the way to her lecture, she had three more comment.

"very nice" -appeared under a photo from one of her dinner parties with the local students.

"why no smile?" -it was a selfie, so what?

"thought you were the smart one, but starting to doubt that" - written under a random photo of Bologna's stunning libraries. So what, she enjoyed aesthetics too.

The one comment questioning her brain capacity stuck in head whole the way to her lecture. What the fuck was that about. Why was anyone spending their time so uselessly. The only thing on that profile was picture with some JL043 mash of letters. She had more important things to do.

A loud ding of her comments notification interrupted the lecture in the middle of it. She gave an apologetic look to her already grumpy professor.

"check my followers"

She sighed. That's it, she'll have a look and then block this asshole out.

Her heart sank when she saw that the only account this one was following was the Japan Airlines. JL043. The Christmas flight.

Y/N has already left one lecture because of Lando this week, so she was not about to it for the second time. But she might have as well done that, seeing she would not have been able to repeat a single point from this lecture.

//

Lando was not a patient man. Especially not after he has decided on something. And he decided on contacting Y/N. With the newfound fire in his veins, another burner account was created - can't let her see he was following every single one of her friends, bit weird. Well, once you've started you might as well finish it. Lando was happy that he did not posses any serial killer tendencies.

He was also a cheeky boy, not about to make it easy for anyone. Had to be fun.

So he liked all her pictures and put few comments. When she did not respond immediately in the morning, he continued. And again, and again. In the later afternoon, Y/N's account followed his and smile on Lando's face followed after that.

A message appeared shortly after.

"Hey you..."

part 4

_________________________________________

Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1  @superlegend216

[skywalker1dream]

Title: Thrilling ride

note: sorry i was gonna post it sooner and it should have been longer too, but i had the most stressful day today....hope you like it, hope you are having good day or night, drink water and eat healthy..byee

Summary: It's the height of Max Verstappen's "Mad Max" era, where he is known for his fierce driving and even fiercer temperament. You, a popular figure in the F1 paddock, find yourself caught in the middle of Max's jealousy as he watches you chat with other drivers. Tension runs high, leading to a heated confrontation and an intense make-out session that neither of you will forget.

Warnings: Jealousy, heated arguments, thats all?

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

You moved through the paddock, exchanging friendly banter with the drivers. Your laughter mingled with the hum of activity as you chatted with Charles Leclerc, your old friend from childhood.

"Good luck today, Charles," you said with a bright smile.

"Thanks, belle. I'll need it with Max on the prowl," Charles replied, glancing over your shoulder.

You turned to see Max Verstappen, his intense gaze locked on you. His jaw was set, and a storm brewed in his piercing blue eyes. Known as "Mad Max" for his aggressive driving style and fiery temperament, he was a force to be reckoned with on and off the track.

You excused yourself from Charles and walked over to Max, who looked like he was barely containing his jealousy.

"Hey," you greeted, trying to keep things light.

"Hey," he replied curtly, his eyes narrowing as he glanced over at Charles. "Having fun with Leclerc?"

You sighed, knowing where this was heading. "Max....he's just a friend. We've known each other since we were kids."

Max's eyes flashed with something darker. "Doesn't look like just friends to me."

You rolled your eyes, frustration bubbling up. "You're overreacting. It's just a conversation."

He stepped closer, his presence overwhelming. "You know how I feel about you talking to other drivers like that, konijntje."

"Like what, Max? Like a normal human being?"

"Like flirting," he snapped, his voice low and dangerous.

Your heart raced, both from anger and the undeniable attraction between you two. "You're being ridiculous."

"Ridiculous, am I?" He took another step, his body almost touching yours. "Maybe I need to remind you who you belong to."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed onto yours with a fervor that took your breath away. The world around you blurred as you melted into the kiss, all the anger and tension dissolving into raw passion.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, as his hands gripped your waist possessively. The kiss deepened, tongues battling for dominance, a mix of heat and need fueling the moment.

When you finally broke apart, both of you were breathing heavily. Max's eyes were still dark with jealousy, but now they held a glint of satisfaction.

"You drive me crazy, schatje," he murmured against your lips.

"You make me crazy too, Max," you admitted, resting your forehead against his.

He smirked, his possessiveness tempered by a rare softness. "Just remember, you're mine."

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'm yours, Max. Always."

As the call for the drivers to their cars echoed through the paddock, Max gave you one last, searing kiss before reluctantly pulling away. You watched him go, your heart pounding, knowing that the fire between you two was far from extinguished.

In the high-stakes world of Formula 1, love was as exhilarating and dangerous as the race itself. And with Max Verstappen, every moment was a thrilling ride.

[outsideratheart]

Not while I’m around (Alessia Russo x reader)

Not While I’m Around (Alessia Russo x reader)

A/N: Here’s a little fic inspired by last nights game.

Through the fake smiles and lies of excitement you could see the nerves slowly consuming Alessia. 

The first sign of nerves came when you had stayed over as her new house and woke up to find her looking at some of her old United gear. She played it off by saying she woke up feeling nostalgic and that the upcoming fixture hadn’t even come to mind. It was a lie, you and her knew it. 

Then each training session came with questions about her former team. How to stop them? What are there weak spots? It almost felt treacherous for the blonde to share her thoughts. 

“We’re almost there” Alessia says as she looks out the window. 

The two of you were sat next to each other on the coach and up until now very little had been said since your departure from St Albans. 

“Alessia” you say her name but her gaze remains on the view outside the window “Less, look at me” 

She does as you ask and those blue eyes stare back at you. As beautiful as they may be you can just about see the anxiousness behind them. 

“I can’t. I need to stay focused” 

There’s no disagreement. You grab her hand, intertwine her fingers with your own and place them on your lap. Words wasn’t the only way to reassure someone. 

You wished that Alessia had been wrong with her worry about returning to Leigh Sports Village but she wasn’t. It seemed the fans were hellbent on making her feel miserable. Every time she touched the ball they booed and every time she missed a shot or got tackled they cheered.

“It’s so disrespectful” you say at a drinks break. 

“I know. Look at her” Lia points to Alessia who, whilst listening to Jonas’ instructions, was scanning the crowd hoping to see any form of hope that not every fan hated her. 

There wasn’t a lot you could to do about the fans. You hated how loud they were and you could see how much it was affecting Alessia even though she was playing a brilliant game. 

It was just before half time when a line is well and truly crossed. Hayley Ladd goes in for a tackle on Alessia. It wasn’t necessary and it was a tough one. 

“Do you need the medics?” You crouch down next to your girlfriend. Once she shakes your head you are straight in Ladd’s face shouting and pushing her. Kim is the one that drags you away before you do something you’ll regret. 

At half time strategies are discussed but you can’t take your eyes of Alessia who sits on the opposite side of the room. She walks back out to the pitch with Stina, unaware that Jonas keeps you behind. 

“I can’t have you losing your head out there. I know you want to protect her but they will target her now to get to you. I can’t have one of my best players getting sent off” 

“I will be on by best behaviour” Jonas walks just in front of you but stops when he hears you talking again “Unless they hurt her then good luck trying to stop me” 

“Hey blondie” you shout as you take your position. 

Alessia turns around. 

“How about we get you a goal so they have something to complain about?” 

You look to Kim then to Lia who both nod their head. The team wanted a win but having Alessia score against her former team would be icing on the cake.

“I’ll try” 

And try she did. Alessia made the next 15 minutes hell for the defenders in red. It was fun to watch but not as much as getting involved in it yourself. You decide to push forward a bit more and before you know it you are one on one with Mary. The goal is almost guaranteed to happen given your track record with these situations but then you see Alessia making a run to the left of you and you know you won’t be the one on the scoresheet. It was an easy goal, a tap in but Alessia make it look graceful. 

She didn’t celebrate her goal, of course she didn’t. You did though and so did the rest of the team. Alessia ran towards the away fans but you made the extra effort to turn to the home fans and hold you hand up to your ear. It was the quietest they had been all game and you loved it. 

After the goal things got a lot more physical with the United players clearly frustrated. Katie and Caitlin come on and within minutes they both get booked. You look towards Jonas as if asking why they can do it and you can’t. 

Alessia goes down a couple of times and after helping her up each time you look towards your coach. 

The next tackle is the one that makes you snap. 

It’s Ella. Of all people to take Alessia out it is her best friend that does so. United had a corner that doesn’t work. Amanda is able to clear the ball to Alessia who is charging towards Mary. 

“What the hell was that!” You get in her face but don’t touch her. 

“C’mon Y/N you know how I get sometimes” Ella jokingly says referring to her games with England. 

“You think this is funny. Look at her” you point to where Alessia is still on the ground “I don’t care if you’re her best friend. She is my girlfriend and I will protect her. Tell your team to back off or I will take matters into my own hands” 

When Ella doesn’t get carded Jonas gets involved and ends up getting carded himself. 

“Now?” You say as you run to the sideline. Two of your team mates had been carded, now him and your coach wasn’t a hypocrite.

“Fine but only one” 

That’s all you needed to hear. You hated that you needed it but you now had permission to protect her in whichever way you seemed fit. Much to your surprise you were able to be a little bit aggressive with a few United players before a powerful body check against Malard gets you the carded. It was worth it though because she went after your girl. From that moment they seemed to back off. The players who hadn’t yet had a run in with you wanted to be spared your wrath. 

When the full time whistle is blown, the game ends with Arsenal securing all three points. You refused to shake hands with anyone who wronged your girlfriend. 

“Ella wants to come and apologise. Be nice” Alessia’s arms snake around your waist from behind. 

“Did she apologise to you?” You turn and kiss her cheek discreetly. 

“She did but she thinks you’re mad at her. I told her she’s been ridiculous” 

“I am mad at her. Strike that, I’m furious. She hurt you Alessia”

“I’m ok. It’s ok” she loved how protective you were of her but she also didn’t want any tension between you and her best friend. 

“No, it’s not. Not while I’m around. While I’m here, while you are my girlfriend, I won’t stand by and let anyone hurt you. Now I’m going to shower before I get pulled for media” 

You leave the pitch but before you do so you see Ella watching you nervously so you go over to her and tell her that the two of you are fine and that you were only protecting your girl. 

Once showered and changed the team leave the stadium to head to the coach that will take them home. Of course there are fans waiting outside the stadium, most of which you meet before getting on the coach. Ever the gentlewoman you let Alessia on the coach first but she stops on the steps as she hears the fans chanting. 

“TRAITOR. TRAITOR. TRAITOR” 

The blonde turns around to look at the fans, the people she once called family, standing outside the stadium she once called home. You see the look of devastation on her face and it makes your own expression turn cold. 

“Y/N don’t” she grabs your hand but not tight enough. 

You stood up for her on the field and now you plan on doing the same in front on the fans. 

“How can you say that!” You approach the crowd who grows silence. So much so that you could hear a pin drop. 

“She left us” one girl says. 

“All lot of players did. Tell me, if some miracle happens and you face Barcelona would you welcome Ona back this way. Would you boo her every time she touched the ball?” 

You took the silence as your answer. 

“That’s what I thought. That girl, who you are hellbent on making miserable, has been dreading this game. Her leaving you was one of the hardest decisions she has ever made and I know this because she would call me in tears and all she kept saying was she didn’t was to turn her back the fans. She gave her all for this club and is one of the main reasons why you had the success you did last season. Show her some respect!” 

Phones were recording you but you couldn’t care less. You were a protector, everyone knew this. 

“Let’s go home” you say once you reach Alessia who is still standing on the bottom step of the coach when you return to her. 

It’s about an hour into the journey and Alessia is fast asleep in your arms. It was a draining day both mentally and physically for her and you couldn’t wait to take her home. Whether that would be yours or hers was yet to be determined. 

“I’ve never seen you like that before” Lia says from across the table. 

“I can’t let anyone hurt her Lia” 

“You love her don’t you?” She asks and even though you hesitate to respond, you do know the answer and have done for a while now. 

You and Alessia would be celebrating your 1 year anniversary in a couple of months but you knew you loved her the night of the euros or more so the morning after when the blonde woke up in your bed. 

“I do. I love her more than I thought possible” 

“I love you too Tesoro” Alessia mumbles. She looks up at you still half asleep but with a smile on her face. 

[xotication]

im actually obsessed with ur writing😫could u write about domestic things with kaneki? (idk if that’s the word) like slow mornings, going out to shop, etc!!

of course i can

☆,

i personally feel like slow mornings with ken come after having a night of fun.. ifykwim.

that being said though, he’s always extremely soft with you. & he’s doing any & all work so you don’t have to move all that much.

you guys spend almost two hours just laying in bed, talking, rotting.. well you’re mainly doing all the talking but ken is listening intently. he could tell exactly what you were saying ten minutes ago, without any fail. it’s so cute.

when you finally decide you wanna get up, ken makes his way to the bathroom first so he can put toothpaste on both of your guys toothbrushes.

ken will also fully try to speak to you as he’s brushing his teeth, it never makes any fucken sense but he refuses to stay quiet.

after teeth brushing, he’ll help you wash your face & then he’s on his way to make you wtv you’re feeling for breakfast.

trust, he literally wants you doing NOTHING.

“do you need help, ken? i can make the eggs”

“NO. just go sit down..”

“oh- ok you don’t have to YELL”

“sorry…”

LMAOO like he’s so passionate.

you have to stop him when he’s tryna spoon feed you your entire meal.

“i got it ken, thank you..”

“just say you hate me & want me to die.”

“OMG.”

—

on to shopping, most bfs don’t really like going shopping with their gfs because only god knows how long they’ll actually be shopping for.

but nonono. NOT KANEKI.

this man would be your personal stylist if he could be. you’ll be searching through the racks of clothes, mf waltz on over with at least 5 hangers & a big ass smile.

“here, try these on! i think they’d look good on you”

“ken, i can find my own-”

“SH. dressing room. you. NOW.”

& much to your surprise, his selections always do end up looking good on you. he’s making sure every color is gonna go with your skin tone. making sure nothing will stand out too harshly, & taking into account the things he already knows you don’t like.

not to mention, this man doesn’t let you pay for like, anything?

one time you guys were out thrifting & you kept finding the cutest pieces ever. only to reach into your purse & realize you’d forgotten your entire wallet.

“ken.. i forgot my wallet.”

when i tell you, the pure disgust written on this man’s face is OTHERWORLDLY.

“so..? who said i was gonna let you fucken pay for anything anyway? put everything you want in the cart & keep it pushing.”

“but ken.. that’s so much money”

“my money belongs to you”

your jaw dropped internally. it took all your willpower to not drop to the floor, roll around, & start giggling.

also! ken is a very big fan of matching or coordinated outfits. he loves loves loves being able to show that you guys are together. by any small or big means possible.

i’d also like to kindly remind you that ken absolutely does have a ring with your name on it :3

oh & he most definitely shares his clothes with you! he thinks it's so cute when he finds you in his closet, "what're you looking for, pretty?"

"erm.. i dunno, i really liked that one shirt you wore like 2 days ago."

"this one?" he's holding up a plain black shirt. on the back side there's angle wings, & the shirt itself is a little faded out from when he first got it, so you love the aesthetic of it.

"yes!"

"all you had to do was ask, honey."

—

i think one thing ken really enjoys doing with you is taking walks. like no matter the time nor weather. he loves a good walk & yap session with his favorite girl.

“baby, can we go for a walk”

“what’re you, a dog?”

“no.. i just wanna walk & talk.. well, hear you talk”

“we can talk in here..”

“but i wanna talk outside, get some fresh air.. yk?”

“fine.”

you guys end up walking down to a park nearby, & you're of course telling ken about the most of random things you've been seeing & hearing lately.

the two of you are gossiping about your workspaces, friend groups, social media drama & so on.

ken ends up picking like a million flowers & he puts them in your hair, you don't even stop him because you know it's making him happy, "you're so beautiful, y/n." he says when he's finally all done.

"i know."

"yeah? & how do you know?"

"you tell me everyday"

ken has the biggest, stupidest smile on his face when you say this. he feels like he's doing his job right. he opens insta & takes a picture of you in that moment & captions it, "my flower girl" & hits share.

—

ahem.

ken most definitely reads you books. it is the best bonding time ever. especially if it's a really good book too.

he loves to fucken slam the book down & debrief anything & everything with you.

if something crazy happens, ken will fully throw the damn book across the room as he's reading it.

"ken?!" "HOLYYYY FUCKEN SHIIITT"

"boy go pick the fucken book up! i didn't even hear what happened yet!"

"oh, right."

& then he's scrambling to get the book & sitting you in his lap so you can read the tea too. when you finally do, you gasp & he's all in your ear lie, "MHMM, i told you!!"

one time you bought 50 shades of grey without telling him what it was about & when he finally got to the spicy parts, his jaw dropped to the ground.

"y/n, what the hell am i reading?!"

"a book!!"

"let's recreate?"

you two most definitely recreated.

—

this is so random but i’ve been thinking about kaneki playing dress to impress SMMM.

when he sees it trending all over his tiktok & insta, he’s absolutely itching to play with you.

one day you come home from being out with a couple friends & ken is on ft with hide, practically screaming.

“CHAT WHERE TF ARE THE SCARVES?!?! there’s only a minute left!!”

you peer over his shoulder to sneak a peek at his screen & low & behold. it’s dti.

you lean down to kiss his cheek & he’s like “oh my god, babe! go get your laptop, you have to play this shit with us”

..

it’s been only 2 rounds & ken is whining about how you placed podium TWICE when he’s been trying for the past hour.. or two.

“baby.. this isn’t fair.”

“kaneki this is so rigged.” hide chimes in.

you’re cackling in your spot, “just fucken try harder?!”

“I HAVE BEEN”

you look at ken’s screen & see the worst possible outfit for “ghosts vs ghouls”

he literally made their skin green & thought he was eating the competition UPPP.

not to mention the fully purple outfit he put on, & random black top hat? with bulky black boots, & a makeup look that looked BUTCHERED.

“ken, my love. that outfit is horrible.”

he’s just about ready to put his mac through a wood chipper. there’s a pout on his face.

“okay well- can you play on my computer so i can get at least one win.” he says in the softest voice ever & you feel like it’s taking all your might not to laugh.

ken just wanted his dti win. :p

i’m so sorry this took so fucken long. ☠️

[fir3ylolol]

lighting in a bottle pt. 2

pairing: Raiden x Reader

tw: vaginal sex, vaginal penetration, fingering, first time, romantic, praise, making out, afab reader, gn reader, smut, sweet smut

a/n: raiden is actually so fun 2 write i love himmmm. also, i still need 200 follower special ideas, hand them overrr. 2nd part to @redsrioters request

word count: 2.41 k

pt. 1

Ao3

Raiden was nothing if not persistent, showing up after every shift to walk you home. Sometimes he even brought Kung Lao along, who would bug you for Madam Bo’s leftovers while you were trying to clean. But it was sweet, how much he cared. So you had no trouble in continuing to go out on dates with him. First was stargazing on the way home from work. Then it was grabbing a dessert to share. Then going to the night market, going to the theater, and even being brought to a training session. Seeing lightning course through your almost-boyfriend was…interesting to say the least. Something you wanted to see again though. It isn’t until two weeks after your first date that you have a fully free day. And Raiden isn’t going to waste it, showing up at your door at 11 a.m. with a light knock.

You see him through the front window, a large basket in one hand and an equally big bag in the other. You can’t help but giggle a little, rushing to finish getting ready. You swing open the door, leaning forward to peck him on the lips. He barely has time to process it before you pull away, shutting the door. He’s got a wide smile on his face, eyes locked on you as he steps back slightly. “You ready?” He asks as you two start walking away from the village. “I wouldn’t be walking with you if I wasn’t ready,” you joke, face scrunching up slightly with sarcasm. He laughs, shoulders shaking slightly, as he manages to say, “You got me there! But I mean ‘Are you ready to spend a good day with yours truly?’ I got up early to get the food ready.” You look at him, eyebrow raised but a wide smile on your face. “How much did you pack?” He looks down at the basket, before looking up sheepishly. “Probably way too much. But I didn’t want to make something you didn’t want to eat.” You lace your arm around his, pulling him close, “How very kind of you.” He smiles widely, eyes crinkling up in the corners. He turns slightly, leading you down a beaten path that slowly angles downward. You watch as the path slowly becomes more overgrown, trees starting to grow thick above your head. You can hear a gentle trickle growing louder until you reach a rocky stream. 

There’s a large rock right at the bank, smooth and warm, soothing to the touch. Raiden spreads the blanket in his arm out on the rock, smoothing the corners down before sitting down, and starting to pull the food out to rearrange it. He pulls out container after container, warm condensation visible inside. Fragrant spices overwhelm your senses and you sit down beside him, eyes darting across everything. “Wow…this may rival Madam Bo’s cooking.” He looks up, nervously waving his hands, “Oh, don’t say that. She’s going to find out you said it and lose your job.” You scoff slightly, shuffling closer, “She can’t fire me. I’m one of the only people in the village she can stand to be around for a while.” He laughs quietly, before grabbing a bite of sauteed vegetables and holding them up to your lips. You take a bite, chewing slowly, muffled moan you savour the flavor. “Wow, you’re a really good chef. This is so good!” His smile grows again, moving to grab more for you. You put a hand up slightly, confused at his actions, “You know you don’t have to feed me, right?” He pauses slightly but continues moving again. “I know. But I made it, and I like feeding you. The way you react is cute.” Well, now you can’t resist, gladly accepting the delicious food. You look around while eating, observing how pretty it is here, and peaceful. “How did you find this place?” You break the silence once again. His eyes light up slightly as he recounts his story, “Well when we were little, Kung Lao and I were always trying to escape work and training. So we would try to find secret places, places we could play without being bothered. This was my favorite one. I was very sad when we were finally caught. But I still come here from time to time, just to clear my mind.” You smile gently at him, the thoughtful side of him is always your favorite. Suddenly, he stands, rolling his pants up to his knees and taking off his shoes. “What are you doing?” you question, leaning forward to see him better. He rushes towards the edge of the water, pausing to look over his shoulder and shouting, “Enjoying the water! You should join me!” He walks in, splashing slightly as he goes further in. You stand up, pulling your clothes out of the way to climb in, now bare feet slipping against the wet rocks below. You can’t help but giggle, the cool water and large stones slightly ticklish against your sun-warmed skin. Raiden is by your side again, arm around your waist to support you as he laughs as well. You smack his arm lightly, “Laughing at my struggles, are you?” He pulls you closer, eyes crinkling in happiness, “No, I’m laughing with you. A distinct difference.” You stare at him a few more seconds, before leaning in closer, capturing his lips in a kiss. You feel his fingers dig into your skin more, as his soft lips press against yours with passion. You’re so lost in him that you forget where you’re standing, your foot slipping against the ground. You end up pulling him in after you, a loud splash echoing through the quiet area. You sit up, gasping and soaking wet. Raiden is pushing himself up, looking towards you through his eyebrows. But it only lasts a second before he’s hysterically laughing, nearly falling back in. You lean forward to shove him slightly, which only makes him laugh more. It’s infectious, both of you laughing like madmen, sopping wet.

You both manage to walk back, clothes heavy but laughter light. It’s almost too short, as you reach your door quickly. Turning to look at him, rosy cheeks and hair still dripping, you feel something come over you, an urge, a desire begging to be given in to. You lean against the door, pausing to think before speaking again, “You know, it’s getting late. And I don’t want you getting sick because you had to go all the way home sopping wet. So…want to come in? It can just be for a bit, to dry off.” You try to cover your tracks, not wanting to push him. But his smile falters slightly as if he’s struggling to decide. You move to open the door, rambling on to cover your tracks, “You don’t have to, you know. I’m good with anything, I just figured I should offer.” You feel his hand on your shoulder, as his voice comes as almost a whisper, “I’d love to, thank you.” You feel all the nervous energy in your body dissipate, unlocking the door and ushering him in. “Please, make yourself at home. I’ll start a fire to dry us.” As you move to fill the fireplace, he puts his basket down, observing your house in awe. “I like your decorations. It’s very…you.” He says, smiling over at you from the other side of the room. You light the fire, tending to it to make sure the wood catches. He sits next to you, watching you with the same awe as before. Finally, the fire’s blazing, and you sit back next to him. He quickly wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. You can feel his body heat, warm still under the damp clothes.

He takes his free hand and cups your face, turning you to look at him. As the firelight bounces off his eyes, you melt into his touch, meeting his gaze with the same intensity. He whispers, barely audible, “You look so lovely like this, so beautiful.” He leans in, pressing his lips against you in a slow but passionate embrace. You wrap your arms around his neck, your body turning to face him more. His hand stays on your face, his other hand traveling to your waist, and he leans back to pull you into him more. It’s like he can’t handle any space between you two, lips dancing against yours slowly. He breaks away, taking a deep breath, eyes darting across your body needily. You manage to whisper out, “You know, you could probably get warmer without those wet clothes on.” His fingers tense against you, as he breathes out, “Yeah, care to help?” You move quickly, trying to peel his clothes off as he helps, only stopping when his top is off. You’re distracted by the sight in front of you, gorgeous tanned skin, with well-defined muscles and a shine from the water still on him. He chuckles lightly, lifting your chin so your eyes meet his, “Distracted much?” You turn your head away, laughing lightly, but they’re cut off, as you feel his calloused fingers through your wet clothes. He’s tugging it off, and you’re finally free from the increasingly uncomfortable clothes. It’s his turn to stare, cheeks flushing more at the sight. You lean in, meeting his eyes. “Hey…you don’t have a lot of experience with this kind of stuff, do you?” He rubs the back of his neck, looking down slightly, “That obvious, huh? I’ve just always been too busy with training and work to date.” You kiss his lips quickly, before resting your forehead against his. “Don’t worry, love. We can take it slow.” He’s tugging your pants off now, as he smiles up at you, “I’m not worried. I just can’t wait to see more of you.”

You’re kneeling in front of him, his eyes traveling across you, almost overwhelmed. You move forward, straddling his lap as he’s sat, slightly leaning back. One hand braces against the ground as the other gently traces down your hip. He looks up, breathing shaky, as he speaks out, “Can I…” hand traveling lower, in between your thighs. You nod, peppering his cheek with kisses. His shaking fingers drift over you, fingers brushing against your clit. You gasp slightly, as he stares down, pupils already blown out. Cautiously, his middle finger dips inside you, and you see his eyebrows knit as he sighs out shakily. He curls it upward, and his eyes dart up to meet yours. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. He moans lightly into the kiss, finger speeding up slightly as your lips do. As you deepen the kiss, you can feel him growing more restless beneath you, trying to hold himself back. But you’re getting tired of waiting too, and you break the kiss again, panting as you try to catch your breath. His heavy breathing is moving you too, eyes half-lidded as he looks at you. You whisper out, voice barely audible, "I’m ready.”

His eyes grow wide again, and before you realize it, you’re on your back below him. He shuffles out of his pants, and you can practically see his heart pounding out of his chest. He pushes your legs apart with his knees, hands resting next to your head. He pauses, looking down into your eyes as he asks, “Are you sure? It’s not like I don’t believe you, I just…I want you to be sure.” Nodding, you wrap your arms around his neck and smile, whispering gently, “I’m sure, love.” Carefully, he lines himself up with you, and you feel him slowly push inside you with a hiss. He’s gentle, allowing you time to adjust. You feel his arms trembling as his face is scrunched up in concentration, trying his hardest to remain in control of himself. He rests his hips against yours as he’s fully inside, head hung down as he lets out light whines. You lift your head, kissing his lips softly as you tangle your fingers in his long hair, no longer tied up. He eagerly leans into your lips, hips starting to roll into yours. His movements are unsteady, unsure of himself, but as he watches you writhe beneath him, he grows more confident. Each sound, each moan and whine from your lips egg him on further. He can’t help but whine himself, eyes locked onto yours as he fucks into you. But it’s not a look of pure lust, it’s a look of care and tenderness, of heartfelt feelings. And he can’t hold it back anymore, shifting lower so his whole body presses into you to speak into your ear shakily, “You’re like a painting, everything about you is perfect. You’re so kind and funny, and I can’t believe I could have missed out on all of this.” He swallows hard, thrusts becoming more erratic again, as he continues to rasp to you, “You are so stunning, I’ve always thought so. I saw you and it all just clicked, everything I wanted and needed in my life. I saw it in one second.” His head is resting against the floor now, next to your head as you cling to him, gentle moans as you bounce under him. All he can get out is “I adore you,” before he cums. He tenses, body curling over yours as he whimpers out quietly, only loud enough for you to hear. He stays there on top of you, arms shaking slightly as he comes down. 

Finally, he’s able to climb off you, laying to your right. You take a minute to look at the fire, the flame is much smaller now. But it’s still warm and cozy, especially when you feel two strong arms wrap around you, pulling you close to him. As you settle into his hold, you can’t help but think about everything he said, even if it was very hard to understand at parts. Hesitating, you finally ask, “Did you mean it? Everything you said? Or were you not thinking clearly?” He chuckles in your ear as whispers back, “Of course I meant it. I’m no liar. But it was good enough to not think clearly.” You scoff jokingly, but cuddle back into his grasp again, before speaking again, “Want to lay in my bed instead of the floor?” All you get in response is an even quieter, “Please.”

[eyneyke]

Twitch stream

Pairing: Max Verstappen x PewDiePie!sibling Summary: What if Felix had a genius brother who works as a RedBull's engineer and is also secretly dating Max part 16 of A Calm to my Storm Masterlist

It was winter break for the F1 drivers, and after a long season, everyone was ready for some downtime. Max had stayed in Monaco while Sam had flown back to the UK to spend Christmas with Felix, Marzia, and family. Even though they were miles apart, Max and Sam still stayed connected, their secret relationship thriving through video calls and texting.

One evening, Max had joined a Twitch gaming session with Charles, Lando, George, and Alex. The five of them had been streaming regularly during the break, and fans were absolutely loving the dynamic between them. However, tonight, they decided to try out a new game but they were one player short for a team game.

"We need one more person," Lando groaned. "We can't start without a full squad and no, George, I don't want a random in our team!"

Max, who had been quietly listening, suddenly perked up. "I can call Sam if you guys are okay with that, he should be free," he said, a glint in his eye that nobody could see over their screens.

The others immediately agreed, eager to include Sam in their stream. Fans, too, were flooding the chat with excitement. Everyone now knew who Sam was, that Sam Kjellberg was not only Max’s engineer but had recently become a beloved figure in the gaming community, especially after all the attention he got in Felix’s live streams.

Max pulled out his phone and dialled Sam, putting it on speaker so the others could hear.

"Hey," Sam’s voice answered, sounding relaxed. "What’s up?"

"We’re short a player for a game," Max explained. "Think you can jump in for a bit? I need a teammate. It's for a Twitch stream, so please cover those arms of yours." He adds with a laugh.

Sam chuckled on the other end. "Alright, give me a second to turn my computer on and find a shirt. I’ll hop on. Send me the game and a link for the stream."

Max leaned back in his chair, grinning as he waited for Sam to join. "Oh, and turn on your webcam. Charles is streaming, and we all know how much the fans love you."

The other drivers laughed as Sam sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. But if I look tired, blame it on Felix and Marzia for keeping me up with all the holiday prep."

Soon enough, Sam’s voice came through their headphones, and his webcam lit up in Charles’s stream. The chat exploded the moment Sam appeared, wearing a comfortable hoodie and looking as relaxed as ever, despite having just jumped into a live stream.

"Sam!" Charles exclaimed with a grin. "Good to have you, mate."

"Good to be here," Sam replied, already sounding like he was in the zone for the game. "What are we playing?"

Max quickly explained the game rules, and before long, the teams were set. Unsurprisingly, Max and Sam ended up on the same team.

As the match started, the camaraderie between the drivers and Sam was infectious. Max and Sam’s teamwork was flawless, and the more they played, the more the chat filled with comments about how well they worked together. Fans were loving it, not only because Sam was skilled, but also because of how relaxed and natural his interactions with Max were.

"You know," George remarked at one point during the stream, "I feel like Max plays more fair when Sam’s around."

Max laughed. "Maybe because I know I will get completely obliterated if this one even smells me anywhere near cheating."

Sam smirked, his voice laced with teasing. "Don’t get too cocky, Max. I’ll still roast you, win or lose."

The banter between them flowed effortlessly, making it clear just how close they were. But while the rest of the drivers and fans only saw them as friends, Max and Sam knew there was a lot more going on beneath the surface.

As the game went on, the chat kept filling with comments about how fun it was to watch Sam and Max together. People started joking that Sam was the reason for Max’s success in F1—not because of his engineering skills, but because of how well they played FIFA together.

"You should join our streams more often," Charles said as they wrapped up a match. "Fans are going crazy."

"Yeah," Lando added with a grin. "You’ve got the chat all excited again, Sam. They’ve missed you. Next time though I will bring Max F with me, because George mate, you suck."

Sam chuckled, clearly enjoying the attention. "Maybe I will. If Max can survive a few more matches, that is."

Max shot a playful glare at the screen. "Watch it, Kjellberg."

By the end of the stream, the vibe was lighthearted and fun, with Sam fitting in seamlessly with the rest of the drivers. As they signed off for the night, fans couldn’t stop talking about how much they enjoyed the surprise guest appearance.

As for Max, he was just happy to spend some time with Sam, even if it was through a computer screen. They may have been keeping their relationship a secret, but moments like these—where they could be close, even in front of the whole world—made it all the more special.

Once the stream ended and the cameras were off, Max shot Sam a quick message: That was fun. Miss you, though.

Sam’s reply came almost immediately: Miss you too. See you soon tho.

[holylulusworld]

Big girls don't cry (5)

Summary: You are no stranger to heartbreak.

Pairing: CEO!Steve Rogers x Plussized!Reader

Warnings:  angst, strong reader, mentions of former heartbreak, regret, fear of commitment, abandonment issues, fluff, mistaken identity, hopeful ending, a little fun, talk about therapy

Big girls don’t cry masterlist

Part 4

“I wish you love. A love that will give you everything you’ll ever need…”

You fist his shirt, desperate to tell Steve how you feel. Yes, he hurt you deeply but maybe there is a chance that you can work things out. 

There is love between the two of you. A love you don’t want to give up easily. 

You didn’t know he struggled in the past too, believing he always was the self-confident man he is. You understand now that he is insecure sometimes - just like you.

“Steve, I don’t want someone else to love me. I only wanted you to love me,” you hide your face in his chest, wetting his shirt with your tears.

“I ruined our love. I destroyed what we had because of my insecurities,” Steve cries now too. He hiccups and buries his face in your neck. “You will never love me again. I threw the best thing ever happening to me away. What else can I do but let you go to find someone better?”

“Steve, love doesn’t die easily. It’s stronger than you give it credit for. Love isn’t always strong from the beginning. It grows if you give it the chance to do so. Every touch, kiss, or gentle gesture let it grow,” you choke out a sob. “Even after a storm, it can grow if you find a way to forgive each other.”

“I love you so much it hurts not having you around. That day, I wanted to ask you to move in with me,” he sniffs, “I wasn’t sure how to propose, but I got the ring, and then…”

“You messed shit up, Stevie,” you whisper against him. “Why did you have to say these things? Why?”

“Sam and Bucky said I’m whipped, and I got scared that you will make me fall in love even more only to break my heart. Everyone just left me, and I kind of sabotaged our relationship to not get hurt. Instead, I hurt the only person who meant the world to me. I hate myself for it.”

“You’ve got abandonment issues. I don’t think you’ll be able to have a healthy relationship if you don’t seek help. Maybe you need a therapist to help you come to terms with your past. I’d gladly help you, but I don’t think I’m the right person.”

“A therapist,” Steve whispers. “Will you help me find one? I-I trust you and…”

“I won’t give up on us yet, Steve. I’m still angry at you. But mostly, I’m hurt. You didn’t trust me enough to talk about your past with me.”

“You didn’t talk about your past with me either, doll,” he lifts his head to look at you. “I guess we both should try to come to terms with our past. Maybe we can do it together?” Steve looks at you like a kicked puppy. “Please…”

“So…” You sit on Steve’s sofa, looking at the notebook in your hands. “What do you think about the therapist and the homework he gave us?”

“I’m not sure,” Steve places a cup of tea and some cookies on the coffee table in front of you. “It felt good to talk about the things bugging me. But I didn’t like the way he stared at your chest.”

You giggle. Steve is not wrong. Dr. Hansen poorly hid his attraction toward your boobs and ass. Maybe he wasn’t the best choice, but he had the best reviews. 

Steve sighs and opens his notebook to reread the instructions Dr. Hansen gave him during their private session. “He told me to tell you how much I love your body. With my tongue and body.”

“He told you to have sex with me?” You wrinkle your nose. “You’re lying.” Steve yelps when you snatch the notebook out of his hands to get a look at the instructions. “Did he draw me?”

“Uh-that was me. Dr. Hansen was talking about you, and that you’re a beautiful woman. He wanted me to cherish you. I couldn’t help myself and draw you.”

“You’re very talented Steve,” you grin. “Just draw me with clothes on next time…”

“He didn’t see a thing. I swear,” he starts to sweat. “It’s just that the was talking about you, and your appearance all the time and my mind wandered.”

Sighing again you close the notebook. “I don’t think Dr. Hansen will help us. He’s a pervert.”

“Hmmm…” Steve nods in agreement. “I don’t understand all the good reviews. Maybe they are fake.”

“Let me check again,” you grab your phone to search for Dr. Hansen. “Hmm…” You frown deeply. “Crap.”

“What?” Steve looks at you, brows furrowed. “Doll? What’s wrong?” He worriedly places his hand on your thigh.

“I think…uh…I messed up this time,” you giggle as your cheeks heat up. “I noted the wrong address. I wanted to go to Dr. Hanson, not Dr. Hansen. We kinda ended up with a sex therapist.”

Steve snorts. “Well, we never had a problem in that department. Our sex was extraordinary, kinky, sweet, hot, and satisfying.”

“You are telling me,” you groan loudly. “Great. Now I know why he was talking about my sad vagina all the time. I believed he was a creep when he wanted me to tell him about my masturbation routine.”

“He asked you how you touch yourself?” Steve’s head snaps toward you. “I swear, I’m going to kill him. Right now. I’ll go to his practice and murder him.”

“He only did his job,” you point out. 

Steve pouts. “I still don’t like that guy. He accused me of not taking care of your muffin. I don’t know what he meant, but I didn’t like it one bit.” 

You snort, as you watch Steve. “Oh my god. Stevie! You can’t be serious.”

“I’m damn serious.” He slams his fist into the couch. “I always ate your muffins and cupcakes. How dare that man to say I don’t like the food you make.”

“Steve,” you giggle as you place your hand on his shoulder. “He was talking about my vagina, not pastries.”

“What?” All color drains from Steve’s face. His features harden and he’s about to kick the table. “How can he say such a thing?”

“Uh-I kinda told him that you disappointed me. I guess he believed I was talking about your qualities in the bedroom.” You start laughing at Steve’s pissed expression. He grunts as you hold your stomach. “This can only happen to us. We seek help and end up with a sex therapist.”

“Stop laughing,” Steve struggles to not laugh. “Doll, stop laughing. We should talk about our relationship, not laugh about our therapist.”

“I wanna laugh,” you giggle and kick your feet. “That feels,” you snort while laughing, “so good. Stevie…”

After the incident with Dr. Hansen, and your flash of laughter you decided to talk things out with Steve in private. If you need professional help, you can still look for a therapist.

It’s been two weeks, and you are slowly making progress. You talked about your childhood friends and slowly got closer to the core of your problems. Distrust and the fear of getting hurt again.

“You can take your time,” Steve softly says. “I told you about Peggy and the others hurting me. Uh-and my first girlfriend. You know that I’ll not judge you or laugh about you.”

You inhale sharply. It’s been years since you thought about your first love. “It was because of one of his friends’ comments. We were good, and I believed he liked me. One false word from his friend and he decided that I was not the girl he wanted to take to prom. Since then, I never trusted someone with my heart. Until you.”

“And I broke your trust in me,” Steve sighs deeply. “I know I said it before but I’m so fucking sorry. What happened in my past shouldn’t have influenced my life and my feelings for you. If I could turn back time and take the words back, I’d do it.”

“Now that we talked about our past, we should address the elephant in the room. Where do we go from here?”

“I don’t know,” he honestly says. “All I know is that my feelings for you never changed, and that I love you. I just don’t know if that’s enough for you.”

“What about your job? You quit and gave up your career,” you move a little closer to Steve to take his hand in yours. “What do you want to do now?”

“Bucky, Sam, and I are thinking about starting our own business. That was my dream for years. I hated working for that asshole.”

You interlock your fingers with Steve and lean your head against his shoulder. “You’ll stay in New York, right? I don’t want you to move miles away.”

“Of course, I’ll stay close to you, doll. It���s only a vague idea so far. We still need to talk about the details,” Steve leans his head against yours, sighing. “Do you want me to stick around?”

“Hmm…I could get any guy, you know. Including Dr. Hansen,” you grin hearing Steve inhale sharply. “Every guy wants a taste of me.”

“Y-ou wouldn’t go out with Dr. Hansen. Right? He’s still a creep,” Steve stammers. “Please don’t go out with him.”

“I could have any guy, but I only want you, Steve.”

Steve nods. He knows that you’ve got a long way ahead. Both of you need to heal, but if you are willing to give him the chance, he’ll show you what love is…

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[sukuna-ryo]

The Best Friend

Chapter 1

(2.4k words)

———

The morning had been perfect. You woke up 10 minutes before the alarm, giving you time to relax in bed before getting up. The warm sunlight streaming through the window, the chirping birds, the fragrance from your diffuser, and the cozy feeling of the sheets enveloping you—everything was just right.

You took a warm bath, the water at the perfect temperature. Then you had your breakfast. The sunny-side-up eggs turned out perfectly, as did the bread. Your coffee was deliciously balanced, the ideal combination of bittersweet with a slightly bitter aftertaste.

You finished your breakfast and got ready. Your crisp white shirt was neatly ironed and tucked into your trousers. The blazer slid on effortlessly, leaving the shirt uncreased. Your hair looked impeccable, and your light makeup was flawless. You left home at the exact time you intended, got into your car, and started the engine. It was your first day at work, and so far, everything had been so perfect it felt as though the universe was aligning in your favor.

You didn’t encounter any traffic, despite it being the usual rush hour. The drive was smooth and peaceful. Your phone started ringing—a pleasant sound thanks to your choice of ringtone—and Nobara’s name popped up. You gripped the steering wheel as her steady stream of chatter filled the car. The hum of the engine and the occasional honk of passing vehicles barely registered as she excitedly rambled on.

“Oh my god, it’s your first day at work! At Infinity Co. too! That’s huge! Good luck, girl, I know you’ll rock it!” Nobara’s voice practically vibrated through the speaker.

You laughed softly, keeping your eyes on the road. “Thanks.”

You were excited about the job too. Infinity was known for offering the best pay and employee benefits in the industry. They treated their employees exceptionally well. This job was a clear upgrade from your previous one, and you were determined to turn this temporary position on the counselor’s team into a permanent role.

“We’re meeting today to celebrate. You can’t refuse. I’ll be paying, so pick any place you like,” you told her, hearing a sharp gasp on the other side.

“Oh my my, Y/N, I hope you remember those words well later,” Nobara said in a mischievous drawl. You knew her mind was racing in all sorts of directions now—she was definitely up to no good.

“I really, really hope you don’t make me regret my decision. Please, Nobara, behave for me, yeah?”

“Oh, stop worrying!” she dismissed your concern. “I’m just gonna make sure we—especially you—have a lot of fun tonight. Oh, ‘fun’ reminds me, are you up for an office romance at Infinity Co.? Now that sounds fun.” And there she went. You made a turn at the next lane and continued speaking.

“Not really. Who would I date anyway? I’m not interested in starting anything with a coworker. Psychologists aren’t as nice as you’d think. And I definitely won’t be doing anything with a client. Beyond those two categories, I can’t see myself knowing anyone well enough to start something.”

“Oh no, Y/N, are you going to be a loner this time too? Please mingle with the other employees. You’re so nice, and people love you. They try to talk to you, but you never let anyone get too close. Please don’t do that. Have fun at your new workplace and enjoy your job.” Honestly, talking to that many people sounded exhausting. And you definitely weren’t planning on doing that, especially with how draining therapy sessions could already be for you.

“I do enjoy my job, just not in the way you think,” you sighed.

“Absolutely not! I’m not having this. You’re making friends there, and you’re going to keep an eye out for a potential romantic interest. You need to break your dry spell. I will be hearing all the details tonight, so make sure you have someone to talk about. And even if you don’t find someone there, I’ll find a guy for you. I had someone in mind anyway.”

Nope. You weren’t doing that. Nobara would only hear if you found anyone attractive, which you doubted would happen. But she wasn’t going to hear anything beyond that. Nobara was just worried about you. She cared about your reserved disposition and aversion to people, but you wanted to meet someone on your own terms.

You nodded, even though you knew she couldn’t see you. “I’ll try.”

After a moment of silence, Nobara sighed and added, “Fine, but just remember, you’ve got this. I know you’ll crush it.”

You chuckled, feeling a rare warmth in your chest. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Bye. I love you,” she said.

“Bye.”

“What? Just a bye? Tell me you love me back.”

You started laughing at that. “Yeah, I love you too. Bye. See you later tonight.”

It was just 15 minutes before your check-in time. You arrived at the perfect time. As you drove into the building’s underground parking garage, the size of the Infinity Co. headquarters loomed ahead. Its sleek, modern, and futuristic design practically screamed success. After finding a parking spot, you grabbed your bag and stepped out of the car, taking a deep breath before heading inside.

The reception area was clean and as beautiful as the building itself, an open space with soft lighting that exuded quiet efficiency. You stepped up to the desk, greeted by a friendly receptionist who recognized you immediately. It seemed they had been informed of your arrival. She handed you a form to fill out.

It had indeed been a perfect morning, that, unbeknownst to you, set you up for this moment. Because at that very moment, across the lobby, Gojo Satoru, the charismatic CEO of Infinity Co., spotted you. What were the chances the CEO would notice a new hire? Which is why it would only seem that fate had something to do with your luck—or lack thereof—today.

His sharp blue eyes narrowed with interest as he watched you. His gaze followed your every movement—the sway of your long black hair, the gentle way you pushed your glasses up your nose, the focused expression as you wrote on the form, and the graceful motion of your hand. He just knew you had pretty handwriting. “Beautiful,” he thought to himself, leaning over to his assistant standing beside him with a clipboard in hand.

“Who’s that?” Gojo asked, his voice low but tinged with amusement.

His assistant looked up, a bit startled by the question, before his eyes scanned the rooms and settled on you. “Ah, that’s the new counselor, Y/N, the one who just joined the team. She’ll be working with us starting today.”

Gojo’s lips curved into a sly smile, the kind that hinted at mischief bubbling beneath the surface. He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze filled with curiosity. “Y/N,” he murmured under his breath. The name felt just right on his tongue, and he already wanted to use it in front of you. “Counselor, huh? Interesting,” he continued, a playful glint dancing in his eyes. He turned away, but his attention remained fixed on you.

Meanwhile, you were completely unaware of this silent exchange. The receptionist handed you your identity card, and you wore it around your neck as you walked to the elevator. When the doors opened, you stepped inside, heading to the upper floors for your first day on the job.

Throughout the day, a senior staff member showed you around the company. The building was immaculate—bright, open spaces with modern touches, sleek desks, and an air of effortless efficiency. You were introduced to various teams and departments. You didn’t quite see the need for this, but you kept your thoughts to yourself. Maybe they wanted employees to recognize the counselors, hoping familiarity might encourage them to sign up for therapy.

Each person you met was cordial but professional. Faces were easy to remember, but names would be a challenge. You realized you’d probably have to apologize and ask for names a second time quite often. As you walked through the finance department, you were introduced to a man who caught your attention with his quiet demeanor, sharp appearance, and the unusual leopard-print tie around his neck.

“Nanami Kento,” the staff member said, nodding toward him. “He’s from the finance department—a stockbroker by trade. You’ll probably see him at joint company dinners.”

Despite his sunken cheeks, the man was handsome. His dark circles added to his appeal. You offered a polite smile, and Nanami gave you a brief nod, his expression calm and neutral. There was something about him—a quiet solidity that contrasted with the surrounding chaos.

Your first day ended with a quick rundown of your responsibilities. Despite the whirlwind of introductions and information, you felt somewhat settled. You’d be fine here—after all, it was just a corporate job, nothing you couldn’t handle—or so you liked to think.

The next day, you received unexpected news from your superior. You blinked, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard. Your superior relayed a message from HR, informing you that you’d be having a session with Gojo Satoru, the CEO of Infinity Co. himself.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Why would the CEO, of all people, need a session with a new hire? But you didn’t question it. You were here to do your job, and if this was part of it, so be it. There was no point in asking anyone else anyway. Judging by the look on your superior’s face, it seemed like she was confused as well, and you’ll find out for yourself soon, you hoped.

You tried to shake off the unsettling feeling from the news. It didn’t make sense, but there was no time to dwell on it. You had a session to prepare for, and your mind shifted into work mode. You went through the usual motions: setting up your notes, organizing your desk, and taking a deep breath. You were good at your job—this was just another session, right? Nothing to worry about.

But as the door opened and he stepped inside, everything shifted.

Gojo Satoru stood in the doorway, radiating confidence and an undeniable aura of power. His tall, lean frame exuded an effortless grace, and his outfit was an Immediate giveaway: tailored, crisp, and expensive. The kind of outfit that screamed wealth without trying. His white shirt was immaculate, the sleeves rolled up just enough to show off his toned forearms, while his black pants fit perfectly. The designer jacket, effortlessly thrown over his shoulder, completed the look. It was all so…rich. And he knew it.

For a brief moment, you were taken aback. His appearance was so striking that you almost forgot why you were there. His sharp blue eyes locked onto yours, a playful glint dancing in them, as though he were some kind of celebrity just waiting for your admiration. The first impression was overwhelming—he was, in a word, gorgeous. Too gorgeous.

You quickly composed yourself and gestured to the chair across from you. “Please, have a seat. I’m F/N L/N, and I’ll be your counselor for today,” you said, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat.

He gave you a broad smile and walked in with a swagger, moving around the room like he owned the place—because, in some sense, he did. The energy he gave off was impossible to ignore. He sat down, leaning back in the chair like he was settling into his personal throne, and you couldn’t help but feel a little self-conscious.

“So,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too smooth, “I hear you’re the expert on stress, right?” He flashed you a grin that could make anyone weak in the knees. “Perfect timing then, huh? Just what I need.”

You felt a rush of discomfort at how casual he was being, especially for a first session. This was supposed to be professional, but Gojo didn’t seem to care much about that. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes still glued to yours with an intensity that almost made you forget what you were doing.

“So, work stress, huh?” you said, trying to stay focused. “Can you tell me more about it?”

He waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, you know. The usual. Deadlines. Emails. Meetings. All that boring stuff.” He let out an exaggerated sigh, looking around the room like he was the victim of some grand, tragic fate. “Honestly, I just thought I’d check this whole therapy thing out. See if you have some magic cure or whatever.”

You tried not to let his flippant attitude throw you off, but it was hard not to. His charm was almost infectious, and you were starting to get uncomfortable with his behavior. But then, as you tried to ask him more about the specifics of his work stress, he only gave you vague answers, almost like he was deflecting. You were used to this—people didn’t open up easily. It took time. But there was something about Gojo’s behavior that felt different. He wasn’t trying to open up at all. It was as though he was here for a different reason altogether.

He sat back in his chair again, running a hand through his white hair. “You know,” he said, his voice dropping in tone, “you don’t look like someone who’d get stressed out. What’s your secret? Do you meditate? Do yoga? Maybe you just have one of those perfect lives where nothing ever goes wrong.”

It was a strange comment, and you weren’t sure how to respond. You wanted to stay professional, but the way he was grinning, the way his eyes locked onto yours, made it difficult to keep your distance.

“Not exactly,” you said, trying to sound neutral. “Everyone has their own way of coping with stress.”

His gaze didn’t waver. “Oh, so you’re one of those mysterious types, huh?” His voice dropped a little lower, more teasing now. “Tell me, Y/N, what else do you keep hidden? What’s your thing?” His tone had an edge of playfulness, but there was something underlying it—something a little too personal.

You tried to focus, but his constant jokes and flirtatious comments were starting to wear on you. He wasn’t taking this session seriously, and it felt like he was doing everything to keep it that way. You found yourself caught between maintaining professionalism and dealing with his overwhelming charisma.

You deflected again. “It’s not about me, Mr. Gojo, it’s about you. We’re here to focus on your stress.”

“Right, right,” he said with a casual wave of his hand. “Call me Satoru. And I just like to know about the people I’m dealing with. It helps me get comfortable, you know?” His eyes narrowed with a hint of mischief. “I’m comfortable, by the way. You’re doing great.”

You could feel your patience starting to wear thin, but you kept your composure. This session wasn’t going anywhere, but you reminded yourself: people needed time to open up. You would just have to wait it out. The session would be over soon enough, and then you could move on to the next one.

As the time dragged on, his flirty remarks kept coming, and though you tried to stay professional, you couldn’t help but feel like nothing truly had been accomplished. But that was typical. Sometimes it took a few sessions before someone was really ready to talk.

Finally, Gojo stood up, stretching dramatically as if the whole thing had been an afterthought. “Well, that was fun, Y/N. I’m looking forward to our next session.” He winked, making your stomach flutter against your will.

“Of course,” you replied, doing your best to sound composed. “So, I’m assuming you officially want me as your therapist then?”

“Oh, of course! I wouldn’t want to go to anyone else.” He smiled, his eyes and tone hinting at something you didn’t want to dissect.

And with that, he was gone, leaving you to reflect on the strange, unsettling session you had just experienced. You hadn’t really gotten anywhere, but that was fine. It was just the beginning. Hopefully, next time, he would actually open up.

You leaned back in your chair after Gojo left, trying to shake off the odd sense of unease that lingered in the air. It was like his presence had stayed behind, refusing to be shaken off so easily. You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, attempting to regain some sense of composure. It wasn’t that you were unfamiliar with clients like Gojo—people who kept their cards close to their chest, who deflected with humor and charm—but there was something different about him. Something that made it harder to focus, harder to keep the professional boundary intact.

What had he said? And more importantly, what hadn’t he said? He’d brushed off his work stress as though it were some minor inconvenience, but the way he looked at you… that wasn’t just playful. There was something else in his gaze, something almost predatory, like he was analyzing you just as much as you were analyzing him. You tried to push the thought aside, but it stuck with you. He hadn’t wanted to talk about his stress, but was he here for something else? Or did he just like being… distracting?

You sighed and rubbed your temples, trying to will away the tension creeping up your spine. A part of you wanted to analyze the whole session, break it down like you would for a case study, but there wasn’t enough data yet. Gojo had barely said anything of substance. You couldn’t draw conclusions on that. Still, the way he made you feel—like you were the one being examined—was… unsettling.

Taking a quick glance at the clock, you realized you didn’t have time to linger on it any longer. You needed to freshen up before your next session. A quick wash of your face, a few deep breaths, and you could get back to work.

You stood up, adjusting your blouse as you walked to the small bathroom in the back. A quick splash of water and a few moments of quiet gave you enough of a reset. By the time you returned to the office, you felt marginally better—ready for the next client.

Your next appointment was with Nanami Kento. You’d been told he was new to therapy, just like you were new to this job. You smiled a little at the thought. “Well, at least we’re both rookies in a way,” you muttered to yourself, feeling oddly comforted by the thought. First day for him, second day for you. You hadn’t expected it, but there was something about that parallel that made it feel more… manageable.

The door opened and Nanami stepped in, his usual steady, measured demeanor immediately apparent. He was wearing that same leopard tie again, though this time paired with a plain blue shirt and gray pants. It was a good look, you noted silently. Nanami had an understated style—classic, simple, but with little touches that stood out. That tie had to be his thing. You wondered how many others like it he had. It seemed the sort of thing a person might collect in multiples.

He gave you a polite nod as he took a seat, and you did the same.

“Well, we’re both beginners today,” you joked with a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Your first day here, and my first day with clients.”

Nanami gave a soft chuckle. “Seems we’re both in uncharted waters, then.”

“Guess we’ll figure it out together,” you said, offering him a warm smile.

He returned the smile, and you could already tell he was the type to keep things professional, to stay grounded. There was a calmness to him that helped you feel at ease right away.

“Shall we get started?” you asked, eager to focus on his session.

Nanami nodded and began speaking in his usual composed manner. He wasn’t evasive like Gojo. In fact, he was quite eloquent in expressing the challenges he’d been facing at work—long hours, constant pressure to perform, and the feeling of being stretched too thin. But unlike Gojo, he didn’t make it sound like it was some grand tragedy. It was just… his reality. Something he was learning to cope with.

Eventually, the conversation took a turn, and Nanami mentioned Gojo.

“I have a friend here. Gojo Satoru, CEO of the company. Gojo’s been… a bit of a problem,” he said, his tone both resigned and matter-of-fact. “We’ve been friends since high school, and he’s alwayss had a way of distracting me—especially after hours. He thinks it’s funny, but it’s been adding to my stress.”

You blinked, surprised by the revelation. So they were high school friends. Nanami would be helpful in your learning more about Gojo then. You also

You also understood where he was coming from. You only had one session with Gojo, one hour, and that man left you completely shaken. Nanami had known him for years, and you could tell Nanami was used to his behavior.

“He likes to joke around, to keep me on my toes, but sometimes it gets hard to draw the line between what’s… friendly and what’s excessive,” Nanami continued, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. “And it doesn’t help that we both work in the same field. Sometimes I feel like I’m just barely keeping it together.”

You gave a nod of understanding, surprised at how openly he was sharing this. It was a refreshing change compared to Gojo’s cryptic words. Nanami wasn’t hiding behind jokes. He was here for a reason, and he seemed genuinely eager to work through it.

As he spoke, you noticed he was observant in a way that Gojo hadn’t been. Every now and then, he’d pause and look at you thoughtfully, as though assessing not just what you were saying, but how you were saying it. His gaze lingered for just a moment longer than necessary, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he was picking up on the subtle cues that something had shaken you earlier.

“You don’t look like you’re entirely at ease today,” Nanami remarked, his voice steady but concerned. “Everything okay on your end?”

You paused, surprised by the question. It was kind of him to notice, but you didn’t want to make it about you.

“I’m fine,” you said, forcing a polite smile. “Thank you for asking, though.”

He didn’t push it, though you could tell he didn’t fully buy it. “If you say so,” he said, a trace of doubt in his voice, but he didn’t press further. You appreciated that.

The rest of the session went smoothly. Nanami was open, professional, and cooperative throughout, and it was a refreshing change of pace compared to the unpredictability of your previous session. By the end, you felt like you’d actually made progress, that you’d helped him, even if just a little.

Afterward, you wrapped up the day with two more sessions, but your mind kept wandering back to the contrast between Nanami and Gojo. Nanami had been calm, respectful, and genuinely concerned about your well-being. Gojo, on the other hand, had been playful, flippant, and… strange in ways you hadn’t fully figured out yet. The difference between the two was stark. It left you with a lot to think about.

As the day came to an end and you sat back in your chair, your thoughts were a tangled mess. But for now, you would try to push it all aside. Tomorrow would be another day, and you’d face whatever came with the same quiet professionalism that Nanami had shown. You just hoped you could keep it all together.

———

The first chapter is finally here, I hope you all like it. Likes, reblogs and feedback is appreciated <3

Do not copy, plagiarise, translate or repost any of my content.

[soufcakmistress]

new love on the near northside

A/N: haters that ruin the fun will get blessed out and blocked! find someone else to play with, tysm :) this is for all the sydcarmy truthers like me who’ve been in a spiral for two years

Pairing: Sydney Adamu x Carmen Berzatto

“All right chefs, we need to fire four prime ribs, two lobster risottos, and four cream puffs!”

“Yes, Chef!”

“Marcus, 86 the mascarpone for the cherry tart on 20!”

“Heard, chef!”

“Okay I need to see hands!”

The waitstaff gingerly grab the plated dishes from the final station, while Carmy is gently yet firmly reminding them not to smudge the plates as they’re being taken to their respective tables. Dinner service is in an awesome groove right now and Syd is feeling confident tonight. She’s still riding on a high from the last food critic that visited from the Chicago Tribune, who raved over her braised short rib and orzo pasta. There are also other reasons for Syd’s good mood.

“Open your legs, Syd..”

Syd shudders, takes three deep breaths and continues to fire off orders from the expo. The Bear has been packed almost every single night for three weeks. They don’t have much of a waitlist yet, but word of mouth moves quickly in Chicago and the front of house are noticing some repeat customers already.

Carmy joined Syd at the expo, and she can still pick up the scent of his cologne even in the midst of garlic, heavy cream and raw seafood. If she even peeks at him, she’ll lose her train of thought, and that’s the last thing the team needs right now. After having to let go of Josh after his unfortunate episode, her sous Tina has been pulling double time, covering both stations like a champ. She makes a mental note to give her an unbelievable gift and some love this weekend. “How are we doing, Chef? We cool?”

His eyes are so crystal clear and she recollects how he stares through her when they….oh fuck. “Yes, Chef. Runners are getting everything out in a timely manner, and we are turning these tables around. You?”

“Carmy, Carmy, yes—oh!”

Carmy licks and bites his lips and smirks. “Yes Chef. You’re the captain of this ship.” He squeezes her shoulder and goes back to his station as their boucher, Daniela checks in with Carmy about the fat trimmings for their beef.

Fak, Richie and Sweeps were holding down the front since Nat is on maternity leave. Carmy keeps a wallet size photo of his brand new nephew at his station, looking occasionally with a smile. Forty five more minutes before dinner service is over and Syd can finally go puke out back. “Chefs, we’re almost in the clear! Let’s keep up the momentum and sense of urgency!”

“Yes, Chef!”

Every dish is gorgeous. So many painstaking hours reworking the menu. Chaos menu, thoughtful chaos menu, back to chaos menu again. Reviewing and poring over Carmy’s intricate drawings, all the late night sessions, so much money spent on ingredients—it was enough to make Syd’s head spin. Hence why, almost a month since The Bear opened she’s still subsisting on a diet of Tums and Pepto.

She’s eternally grateful for her partners. Nat and Cicero have saved all their asses more times than they can count. Cicero is a hard ass but he adores Carmy and Sugar and has grown to love Syd as well. And of course, the best chef she’s ever had the privilege of working beside is her executive chef, business partner, best friend and now lover.

“Look at you. You’re so wet baby. Fuck—”

~

They’ve managed to keep their love affair under wraps for this long. It’s a struggle not to be able to touch each other when they’re working. Tina and Marcus are too perceptive; they would be found out immediately. Still, Sydney feels like a giddy school girl whenever Carmy corners her in the office as they open the restaurant every morning—both of his hands by her sides keeping her close. He’s so incredibly sexy without even trying and she still gets shy sometimes. He has to pull her chin from her shoulder and make her look at him.

“Don’t run away from me. You know I won’t let you..” And those ocean blue eyes of his again….and his lips are feather light on top of hers. Her knees are ready to buckle and Carmy sensed as much, so he pulls her close to the hardness of his chest and stomach to keep her standing.

She loves how his stubble feels on her chin and cheeks, especially when he drags his mouth down her jaw and lightly sucks on her neck. “Carm, Carm, Carm, oh my god, don’t! If they see me with a hickey when I didn’t have one yesterday, how do I explain that?” Her face is hurting, she’s cheesing so hard.

One hand slides up her chef whites, slipping under her camisole and his agile fingers pinch her nipple while his tongue circles her earlobe. Syd’s learned that Carmy is insatiable. For someone to not be as experienced as he claims—his hands, lips, tongue…always seem to go exactly where she needs them to. “I can’t help it, Chef. You’re just so damn beautiful.”

Syd’s hands roam all over his thick biceps and eventually land in the bushy mess atop his head. Their tongues lave and suck on each other’s and their moans can’t be held back any longer. Carmy pulls her leg up to his hip while he grips her braids, until he hears Marcus and Sweeps come through the back door. They separate quickly and get themselves together. Lusty gazes linger between them and they’re both aching between their legs. Carmy is as red as a beet, and Syd’s lips are swollen from his kisses and nipping. “Right, thank you chef.” Syd walks out first awkwardly with wobbly legs that make Carmy chuckle.

~

Dinner service is over—the kitchen has been scrubbed down, trash taken out, perishables have been stocked away in the lowboys and walk-in, and the back of house staff has skated out. It’s just Carmen and Sydney, in their brand new restaurant. “I’m beat. You got all your stuff right?”

Syd has an overnight bag with everything she needs for a weekend with her babe. “Yes, I do! Are you..ready to go?” Carmy grabs the weekend bag along with her hand and they walk in tandem to his car.

Carmy has been seeing a therapist in addition to the Al-anon meetings and Sydney can tell a difference already. He’s slower to rant and rave and owns up to his mistakes. More eager to hear people out. She’s proud of him—he’s suffered through a lot to make it to this point. They eventually arrive to his apartment and a shower is the first order of business. Syd loves the water pressure at Carmy’s place and taking showers together has been great for their newfound intimacy. They undress each other, Syd pulls her braids up in a high bun, and they just hold each other under the steaming water. This is their time. Away from The Bear. Away from Chicago. Away from the many demands and decisions they’re forced to confront every single day.

Carmy washes her with her pink loofah that’s been made a permanent staple in his bathroom. This is all new to Syd; her heart blooms in her chest at these big feelings she’s experiencing. He’s gentle and doesn’t leave an inch of skin untouched. Syd washes his hair with his expensive shampoo and Carmy’s eyes close in ecstasy. They needed this tenderness. They deserved it.

All cleaned up and fresh, they mosey back to the kitchen for a late night meal. Habits are hard to break. “Spaghetti?” Carmy suggests.

“Yes oh my goodness. Butttt use bucatini instead. And all the cheese.” He smiles in agreement and pecks her on the lips and gets out all the ingredients they need. Julia Child is on in the background on a public access channel, as they converse about the restaurant and Carmy’s nephew and Sydney’s dad and Carmy’s dysfunctional family, the deep loss Syd still feels at the absence of her mom for most of her life. More tenderness.

Pasta is rolled out. Meat sauce is sautéed, seasoned and almost ready. The Shiraz is poured. Carmy can’t stop staring at her in his shirt and boxers. She’s so cute. The pasta boils and he watches her watching the program, fully enthralled. Everything is finally done; he plates everything in his unique Carmy way and Syd audibly orgasms at how the savory flavors meld together especially with the wine.

He grates more pecorino over the pasta and the lull in conversation is comfortable and warm. Not awkward and full of anxiety like with Donna….leaving him constantly overthinking and being afraid to speak. Sydney seemingly knows what he’s going to say before he does and that brings him comfort. They’re in crystal clear alignment on every way and he now knows a semblance of peace.

“Fuck. This is good.” Sydney is damn near scraping the plate, while Carmy is smiling the biggest she’d ever seen from him. They both love when the other eats their food. That sense of pride is undeniable.

“I’m glad you enjoyed, Chef. Anything for you.” He winks at her and she gets bashful and mumbled out that she’s going to take care of the dishes since he cooked. To his surprise, he’s a little more tipsy than he realized from the Shiraz. Carmy drains his glass and pours himself another, while checking Syd’s frame out. His boxers are screaming for relief and a little moan eeks out of him before he can stop it. Thankfully Syd isn’t aware of his moment of weakness.

Carmy swallows and wipes his lips and moseys behind his girlfriend. Kissing and nipping. “I’m almost done here, Carm..” Syd whines a bit at his ministrations and drops the plate into the soapy water.

“Yeah. Not fast enough for me..” Carmy turns her around and leaps with his tongue and mouth first. Her hands are dripping wet but she doesn’t waste a second grabbing his head of wild curls and taking what he has to give. Carmy grabs her legs to wrap them around his waist and Syd can periodically feel him thrust up into her mound, wailing for stimulation that only he can provide.

Their shared affection overpowers the television, and Carmy feels his way down the hallway with his baby in his arms. His love, that saved him in so many ways. He pulls his shirt off, she takes hers off. She takes his boxers off that she had on and she lays on his bed, naked as the day she was born. “Fuck me, Carmen.”

She held in her amusement because his entire neck and face was blood red with the pupils of his eyes blown out. Syd knows that he’s doing everything he can to stay contained, but he knows her better by now—she does what she wants. So she spreads her legs for him and twirls her clit in tandem with a brown nipple. Carmy’s about to explode.

He drops to his knees and explores her love below like it’s never been done before. “Sydney, why do you taste so good? Why do you do this to me..” She relishes in the fact that he’s potentially bruising her with the vice grip he has on her thighs, but yet she’s so afraid that she’s gonna squirt in his face if he keeps gently sucking her clit in and out of his lips like that. His manicured fingers enter her canal one after the other and prompt her to let go. “CARMYYYYYYY!”

His whole chest is drenched, and his eyes are shut tight, his deft fingers rubbing tight circles around her clit with a precision that only an executive chef named Carmen Anthony Berzatto could deliver. Sydney pushed his head away and she’s left trembling with watery eyes. “I-I—i didn’t know I could do that!”

Carmy just smirks and wipes his mouth and drops his pants. Syd still can’t get over him. He has even more tattoos that can’t be readily seen on a day to day basis, he is so cut and muscled and has a cock that should be cast in 24 karat gold. Don’t sleep on the short kings.

“Turn around.” His voice leaves no room for pushback, and she can barely raise up on her knees before he’s manhandling her. He’s learned that he loves doggy with Syd. With her ass high in the air, she is getting impatient as well and reaches behind her to line him up with her slit. Carmy catches his lip in his teeth as he pushes forward and they both groan out a “fuck” that only they could wholly grasp.

On the first stroke, he’s all the way in and Syd fees his sack grazing over her entrance. They’re both in a trance. Carmy has visions of Syd cooking, smiling, cumming, revolving in his mind as well as the score of the last White Sox home game so he doesn’t bust his load quick. Syd can’t get the thought of how intense and sweet he gazes at her. How he commands their team, how his talent speaks for itself, how fucking sexy his jawline is, how big his heart is. How lucky is she? To fall in love with her idol, mentor, boss….and to have him love her back.

The bed is beginning to bounce off the wall. Their volume increases as Syd can’t hold herself up anymore and they fall into collapsed doggy with their fingers interlocked. “I’m so glad you found me. I love you Syd, I love you, I fucking—fucking love you baby!” That set Sydney off for the most expansive and overwhelming orgasm of the night, taking her beau with her over the edge. Carmy’s sweaty forehead lays on Sydney’s right temple—both of them with tears in their eyes.

Carmy kissed every finger tip until their mouths met again, both letting their waterlogged eyes flow free. “I know. I love you too Carmy. We’re never alone.”

“We’re never alone.”

[hollow-lime-green]

Can you tell us a little about your D&D stuff? -sincerely an avid dnd player who loves hearing about other people’s characters

aaaa sure!

briefly - when I do actually get to be a player, I fucking love playing rogues. god i am so basic and easy, catch me playing a tiefling/changeling rogue 100% of the time. i am a power gamer though, and i'll take a lot of feats to do all sorts of weird bullshit (and the 2024 thief buffs are going to make me insufferable. fast hands has always been my favorite ability in the game, and now thief is finally good for real and not just by dm fiat).

i like every class except artificer and monk (fine just not for me), but rogues have my heart. in every game, skyrim to borderlands to d&d, I like being a pain in the ass from a long distance away. i don't get to play a lot, so i don't have a lot of characters that i'm super tied to, but right now, i'm essentially playing a cabal of tiefling/changeling rogues (one for every subclass) that are running the underground of my friend's city in a westmarch style progressive series of oneshots he hosts at our local game store.

mainly, though, i have always been a perma-dm of my groups, although I am trying to find a group that rotates better because as it turns out, being a perma-dm can absolutely fuck with your interpersonal relationships. i had a really awesome d&d group in undergrad that I DM'd for, and I have a lot of great memories from that. we played on campus for the first two years, then on roll20 for a few more years after that. unfortunately, as most d&d groups do, we died to the BBEG known as Adult Life Schedules.

since then, I've been DMing semi-regularly at a local game shop, sometimes playing, and I've made a lot of in-person friends. we play both at and outside of the shop, but almost all one-shots, although when I eventually move away from this current location, I will probably try to drag them into an online campaign. lots of dm talk and pictures under the cut, since this will be kind of long. :)

Props!

as a dm, i am very prop focused, i love a good prop. it's the engineer girlie in me. sat night I ran a 12th level one shot for my friends to test out some of the new 2024 rules at high level, and what I'm most proud of was my hidden magnet bridge (see below) - this is a progress pic but I do generally keep my sets pretty minimal aesthetically. anyway this was super fun because i set it up as this precarious bridge that they needed to get across and do some puzzles (hence the set), and then i ambushed them with the hidden magnets (actual reason for the set).

this is one of my faves from maaaaany years ago. i could do it better if I tried it again, but it's tough. this was for an encounter where an enemy was locally changing the direction of gravity, so the set rotated. it was surprisingly stable but difficult to play on due to the fact that you have like 270 degrees of the table that can see and then whoever is behind the wall (the dm) can't see shit. this was during my in-person UG years, so baby engineer but still making it work.

this is something I've done more recently that is more minimalist but insanely effective as a minigame. i had some players navigating through a space field, so they had to plot a course through this minefield and peel off the tape stickers one by one to see if they hit a danger. again, left is a progress pic. they all got blacked out. the right one was actually my dm key during the session lol, so I knew what they were gonna hit before they hit it.

I do a lot of mini prop pieces to go on top of my battle map as terrain, mostly cardboard just to give height and make things a bit more dynamic. and i'll usually have some lair action that rotates or takes away some of that terrain. one other thing I'm playing around with is this plexiglass transparent overlay designed for water combat, so I can put biiiiiig bad guys underneath the party. that one is for a oneshot based on the game DREDGE (which I highly recommend by the way - fishing survival cozygame with an eldritch monstrous flair). this lighthouse works as a sanity indicator, so as the party loses sanity (due to the eldritch fish), I can change its color.

i have no idea how i've run this game like 7 times and yet I can't find any pictures of it, but I have a one-shot that is based on Potion Permit (another farming sim cozygame) where the players collect these tiny cardboard tetris pieces and have to use them to complete tetris piece recipes to make potion and Save The Town From Illness! players love a prop, players love a minigame, and i love running those things as well.

Characters!

I have a lot of DMPCs that I love from my long campaigns, but DMPCs can be irritating, so i have shifted away from character-driven things for my oneshots. when I go back to doing campaigns, I'm going to try to do them better? I don't know, getting people invested in OCs whether it's writing or ttrpg is always sort of a challenge. players get invested in the bonds between the party but not often in their actual NPCs. So I'm not going to yap about them too much, but I'll list the concepts of my fave DMPCs:

blind bard who sees through a force field cantrip like cat whiskers - later becomes a seer (like divination) at the cost of losing his blindsight due to Player-Caused Apocalypse. becomes an unwilling consort to an archdevil who rules the wastelands after Player-Caused Apocalypse.

red hag who used a wish spell to free herself of pacts of loyalty but as a consequence cannot form lasting relationships with any creature, and cannot wish again. trying to make a Deck of Many Things to get more wishes and fix this (doomed)

half-fey archer with the mantle of the summer court trying to avenge her parents killed by the winter court, warrior softened by the touch of a woman (autumn fey cottagecore mom friend with an aussie accent). they were fun because the party actually got really invested in them and they got to complete their love story :)

spellthief rogue champion of the gods caught in a messy 'the parents are fighting' situation where the aspects of law and chaos fight. she is going to make a return when i start my next campaign because it's going to be a time loop situation, and she'll be the one resetting the timeline and trying to make off-screen changes (killing monarchs, planting magic items) to affect the future.