#hotter too. huh what who said that.

[sewerdraws]

i’ve seen you draw alot of red sniper, but what about blu?

I've been sitting on this ask for a while because red sniper is so ingrained in my brain i couldn't for the life of me come up with a different looking one ... until i was hit by an absolute epiphany.

So yeah this sniper is pretty opposite to Red's : less awkward, more abrasive and direct, more enclined to close combat as well. All in all a pretty unpleasant guy to be around.

[bratscave]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — MY LITTLE PRINCESS !

includes. dilf! logan x 23! shy? reader, very lightly implied daddy issues, sexual content! (car pussy eating lol)

You’ve seen Logan here before, countless times, always in that same corner, nursing his drink in solitude. His age should turn you off, it really should but somehow that just got you more intrested, you had been stern on doing something about said-intrest but your fear of talking and interacting with men, held you back.

Tonight, tonight you were going to do it. You were sure of it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slide off the barstool, your legs feeling a little shaky as you make your way across the room. Each step feels like it takes you all your power, and by the time you reach his table, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you finally force yourself to speak, "is the seat taken?" your voice was quiet, shaky even, you silently cursed yourself — you had wanted yourself to sound confident, god damn it.

He turns around with a gaze that was so intense, you were sure he was about to fuck you off to go somewhere else, yet he quietly gestured to the seat next to him. You slide into the seat opposite him, your knees brushing logans under the table.

"You're a bit young to be in a place like this," he murmurs, his voice deep and gravelly, carrying the weight of all the years he’s lived. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but also a hint of concern, like he’s trying to figure out what a girl like you is doing in a place like this, with a man like him.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "Maybe I like being around… older men." Well not the older men around you, him though, very much so. "I'm not that young." you add on, it was true - since when were people in their mid twenties considered, young?

A scoff slips past his lips at your response, though it did pique his intrest. His thumb circled around the glass of his whiskey, you were sure that was at least the fourth one he had, "Not that young, huh? Then how old are you, princess?"

You practically feel yourself grow hotter at the nickname, on it's own 'princess' sounds so endearing, so loving — but with his rough tone, it got this different edge to it. "23," you mumble, obediently at his question.

Logan repeats your age, let's it slip from his tongue losely, makes it hang around the dimly light bar and between you.

"I wonder what your parents would think, princess. If only they knew where their little girl was right now, and who she was with."

You'd actually think he was somewhat concearned if it wasn't for the almost mocking tone in his voice, not like he was making fun of you moreover like he just found this situation and how you were behaving amusing.

The blush intensifies at his comment, you hated how you reacted to him, how your body did too; you didn't want to come of as to shy or inexperienced. that was not the case, well somewhat. Your absent father, certaintly wouldn't care - your mother, maybe but who'd tell her? "I'm not a little girl," you're grown god damn it.

His smirk only grew as you got increasingly red. It was cute.

"Oh, really? You look like a little girl to me, princess. All shy and flustered just from sitting at the same table as me. Can't even look me in my eyes."

Logan leaned a little closer to you, his tone almost advising, "You look like you need someone to take care of you, princess. Someone older. More experienced. Do your little boytoys not take care of you right, hm?"

It takes all your will power to not run off into the sunset, burry yourself a hole and think about what he said for the rest of your life. You manage to answer quietly, "you sound like you want to be that 'someone'"

"smart girl," he snickered, satisfied with your reply.

"I'll admit, I've been watching you for a while. You come here all the time and drink all by yourself. All alone. Always sitting at the same spot, watching others."

You can feel yourself get wetter at just his words, he had been observing you? The you, who looked at him countless times, sure he was not looking back or cared at that either.

Sooner then your mother would be proud of, you were in his car. Well- you and him were in his backseat. The car smelled old, looked old too but you didn't have time to make details out as he kept your legs spread for him, rough big hands patting the skin every now and then, to quietly tell you how good you were.

His tongue was way to busy to talk, licking and sucking with a precision that was applaudible. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just hours ago, you were too shy to even speak to him, and now here you were, half-naked in the backseat of his car, your body squirming around.

He wasn’t gentle — Logan was thorough, relentless, like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to show you exactly what you’d been missing, what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the rawness of the experience, making it feel more real.

He was so broad, taking up most of the space in that damn backseat and he was hungry. starved, or at least he ate you out like he was.

Logan would make sure that, for the next few days, you’d feel him in every corner of your body. You would ache, throb in all the right places — all because of him.

[solxamber]

Hi! I love your writing, I'm constantly rereading it, it's so good!! I would like to request a scenario where reader is a very sweet and nice person, always helping others and willing to listen to their problems, but they reach their limit and snap one day at a group of nrc boys who have been harassing them for a long time (up to you if it was malicious teasing or a 'pulling on pigtails' reason for the teasing!). Full on calling them out for their shitty behavior and verbally tearing them down, and drawing a crowd who didn't think this would happen because of reader's usual personality. They have to get pulled away by (separate scenarios) Vil, Leona, and Crewel who helps them calm down and comforts them when they start angry crying. Pre-relationship for Vil and Leona please, maybe they have to deal with the fact they thought reader was super attractive when they were all angry and going off on the NPCs lol. Thanks if you write this one! 🫶

Sweet reader who goes off with Leona, Vil, Crewel

i loved this ask, it was fun to write <3

Leona Kingscholar

Leona had been watching the whole thing from the sidelines, lounging under the shade of a tree. He knew the moment those idiots opened their mouths, things were about to go sideways. What he didn’t expect was for you to completely lose it.

You, the sweet and patient person who always helped others with a smile, were now ripping into the Savanaclaw students like a lion who’d just had its tail stepped on.

“Wow, real original, ‘stealing magicless human’s lunch,’” you sneered, hands on your hips. “What’s next? Pulling my hair? Tripping me in the hallway? You all got your moves straight from a kindergarten bully manual, didn’t you?”

The group of Savanaclaw students blinked in confusion, clearly not expecting the sudden barrage. “W-Well, we’re just... teasing!” one of them stammered.

“Teasing? Is that what you call it?” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a deadly calm. “How about you explain to me why ‘teasing’ always involves targeting the same person over and over again, huh? Or do I have to spell it out for you? You’ve been after me for weeks. If you’ve got a problem, say it.”

Leona stifled a yawn, his ear twitching as he overheard one of the idiots mutter, “Sheesh, we’re just messin’ around ‘cause she’s cute...”

You blinked, clearly having heard that, and turned on your heel. “Excuse me?”

The guy looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Uh, nothing?”

“Oh no, no, no. You said I’m cute, didn’t you?” Your voice was sweet, but the look in your eyes could melt steel. “You mean to tell me you’ve been pulling my pigtails like some lovesick middle schooler?”

Leona almost choked on his laughter. The guys shifted on their feet, visibly uncomfortable. One of them scratched the back of his neck and muttered, “Well, uh, kinda...”

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my god. You’re literally harassing me because you like me?”

The poor guy looked like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. “I mean, I wouldn’t say harass—”

“SHUT UP!” you snapped, throwing your hands in the air. “Are you guys twelve?! Did I get transported into some kind of second-grade drama fest? This isn’t how you flirt! You could’ve just asked me to lunch like a normal person!”

Leona was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing out loud. This was too good. His underlings were idiots, but this was a new low.

“And by the way, just so we’re clear,” you continued, “I wouldn’t have said yes! Why? Because I actually have standards. Like, oh I don’t know, not going after people who torment me for weeks on end!”

That finally shut them up. The group shuffled awkwardly, clearly regretting all their life decisions, when Leona finally decided to make his move. He casually strolled over, tail swaying lazily behind him.

“Oi,” he drawled, hands in his pockets. “You done terrorizing my pack yet?”

You turned, eyes still blazing with fury, and Leona had to admit—he’d never seen you look hotter. All riled up, standing there like you were about to take on the entire world. He leaned against a nearby tree, smirking. “You’ve got more bark than most of them combined.”

You pointed at the group with a glare. “Your pack? These idiots have been making my life miserable because they don’t know how to talk to someone they like!”

Leona’s smirk widened, clearly amused. “Is that so?” He cast a glance at the culprits, who were now looking anywhere but at you or him. “Sounds like they could use a lesson in charm.”

One of the guys mumbled, “But we didn’t mean—”

Leona’s eyes narrowed, silencing him immediately. “Run along, or I’ll make you regret it.” His tone was lazy, but the underlying threat was enough to send them scrambling.

As they bolted, you crossed your arms, still fuming. “Unbelievable. They were harassing me because they like me. That’s like pulling pigtails on the playground!”

Leona chuckled, pushing off the tree. “Can’t blame ‘em for trying. You’ve got some fire in you.”

You shot him a look, annoyed. “Are you seriously taking their side?”

“Nah.” Leona tilted his head, studying you. “I’m just sayin’... maybe they’ve got a point.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He stepped closer, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “They’re idiots, sure. But they’re right about one thing—you’re worth the trouble.”

Your face flushed, and before you could fire back, you felt your anger quickly unraveling into something much messier. You tried to blink it away, but your eyes were already starting to sting, and before you knew it, hot tears were spilling over.

“Great,” you muttered, voice shaking. “Now I’m crying. Just perfect.”

Leona’s smirk dropped when he saw your shoulders tremble. He sighed, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Oi, don’t—”

“Don’t tell me not to cry!” you snapped, angry sobs spilling out now. “I’m allowed to cry! I’ve been dealing with this crap for weeks, and it’s not fair! I didn’t do anything to them! I’m just trying to live my life!”

Leona’s eyes softened, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. He hesitated for a second, then stepped closer, carefully placing a hand on your shoulder. “...Alright, alright. I get it.”

You sniffled, wiping furiously at your tears. “They’re so stupid. And mean. And I—I’m so tired of it.”

Leona grunted, his tone a little softer than usual. “They’re idiots, but they won’t bother you again. Trust me.”

You hiccuped, nodding weakly. “I just… I don’t get why they—why would anyone do that?”

Leona scratched the back of his head, suddenly feeling awkward. He wasn’t good at comforting people, but damn it, seeing you cry because of those morons made his chest tighten.

With a resigned sigh, he pulled you close, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s alright, herbivore. You were overdue for that. And anyway, you can use those sharp words on me whenever you want.” His voice dropped, teasing. “I don’t mind.”

You sniffled, half-laughing, half-crying into his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leona smirked. “But you like me anyway.”

Vil Schoenheit

It was common knowledge that Vil paid special attention to you. Whether it was because of your potential or because you had a natural grace, the others were never sure, but it was obvious that the attention he gave you drove some students crazy. Specifically, a group of Pomefiore boys who had made it their life’s mission to be jealous, petty, and downright irritating. And today, you were done pretending you didn’t hear their snide remarks.

“Can’t believe Vil wastes his time with them,” one sneered. “It’s not fair. We actually try, and they just get it handed to them?”

You stopped in your tracks, eyes twitching as their words piled on.

“They’re probably not even trying to look good. Vil’s just playing favorites—”

That’s when you lost it. You whirled around, glaring at them with a ferocity they clearly hadn’t anticipated. “Favorites? Favorites?! Oh, PLEASE. First of all, the only thing Vil is handing out is a reality check, which all of you clearly missed! You think it’s easy working with him? That he just showers me with praise while you’re left to fend for yourselves? NEWSFLASH—Vil’s standards are through the roof, and I’m busting my ass just like everyone else!”

They stammered, taken aback by your outburst, but you weren’t done.

“You all spend so much time being bitter that Vil doesn’t notice you, but guess what? Maybe—just maybe—it’s because you’re too busy whining and not busy enough doing the damn work! You think complaining is gonna magically make you the fairest one of all? Spoiler alert: You’ve got about as much chance as a muddy potato in a beauty pageant!”

The entire courtyard was staring now. You? The sweet, helpful student who always wore a kind smile? Absolutely demolishing a group of boys who deserved every single word you were hurling at them.

“And another thing! The next time you want to insinuate that I’m getting ‘special treatment,’ take a look in the mirror and ask yourself if you are the one who’s too lazy to earn it!”

Vil, who had been silently watching from a distance, felt something stir inside him as he listened to you tear into them. That fire. That passion. That confidence. You were utterly captivating when you were angry. How had he not noticed how striking you were in this moment?

He stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder, his calm presence easing the tension just a little. “Enough, darling. You’ve made your point.”

You blinked, realizing who it was, and the adrenaline started to wear off as your shoulders slumped. “Vil, I…”

“You did well.” His voice was smooth, soothing. “But let’s not waste more energy on them, hm?”

Tears prickled at your eyes as your emotions bubbled over. “It’s just… it’s not fair. I’m trying so hard.”

Vil turned you to face him fully, his eyes soft despite the usual sharpness. “I know you are. And I see it, every day. That’s why I pay attention to you.”

Your breath hitched, caught off guard by the tenderness in his voice. His hand reached up to wipe a stray tear from your cheek, and for a moment, you forgot how angry you had been. All you could focus on was how close he was, how his presence seemed to anchor you.

“You’re more beautiful when you’re not holding back,” Vil murmured, almost too quiet for you to hear. But oh, you heard it. Loud and clear.

Divus Crewel

It was the same old song and dance with these students. They couldn’t handle the fact that you were getting along so well with the dorm leaders and staff, so naturally, they decided to take it out on you. You didn’t have magic, you didn’t belong at NRC, blah blah blah—it was all the same garbage, and today, you’d had enough.

“Oh look, the magicless pet is here,” one sneered. “What’d you do to get on their good side? Bribe ‘em? Kiss up to Crewel so he gives you extra points in class?”

You slammed your hands on the nearest table, the sound echoing through the classroom. “Oh, for the love of everything, can you SHUT UP for once in your miserable lives?!”

They blinked at you, shocked. You? Sweet, friendly, always-helpful you? Snapping?

“Bribe the staff?! Really? You’re dumber than I thought, and that’s saying something considering you’ve spent more time scraping by in Crewel’s class than actually passing it! You think I’m getting special treatment? I WORK TWICE AS HARD AS ANY OF YOU, BECAUSE I HAVE TO!”

You were on a roll now, and the more they stared, the angrier you got.

“Newsflash, genius! Being nice to people isn’t ‘kissing up,’ it’s called not being an insufferable little gremlin! Maybe if you spent less time whining and more time actually trying, you wouldn’t be such a failure in every sense of the word! And don’t even get me started on the fact that I—without magic—am somehow doing better than all of you!”

The group was completely stunned into silence, but before you could land another blow, a familiar voice cut through the air.

“Puppy.” Professor Crewel’s tone was firm but gentle. “That’s enough.”

You froze, spinning around to see him standing there, arms crossed, but there was something soft in his eyes. Before you could protest, the adrenaline started to wear off, and all the frustration you had bottled up came spilling out in the form of tears.

Your hands shook as the adrenaline crash hit you hard, and suddenly, the tears started to fall. “I—I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t take it anymore…”

Crewel stepped forward, his usual sternness softening into something almost paternal. He placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently. “No need to apologize, pup. Those troublemakers had it coming.”

You sniffled, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand. “But I—I’m supposed to be better than that. I shouldn’t have yelled…”

“Sometimes,” Crewel said, tilting your chin up so you’d look him in the eye, “people need to be put in their place. And you did that perfectly.”

His calm assurance made you break down even more, and before you knew it, you were full-on ugly crying in front of him. He sighed, but not out of exasperation—more like a father who knew his kid had finally reached their limit.

With surprising gentleness, Crewel pulled you into a loose hug. “Let it out. You’ve been holding this in for too long.”

You sobbed into his shoulder, not caring that you were crying all over the crisp white fur of his coat. “I just—They’ve been—”

“I know.” He patted your back, his voice steady. “And they’ll be dealt with. But you need to take care of yourself first.”

You hiccupped, nodding into his coat. “Thanks, Professor.”

Crewel gave you one last reassuring pat before pulling back, his sharp eyes focusing on the group of students still frozen in place, unsure if they should stay or flee. “Now, as for you lot… if I hear even a whisper of disrespect toward my pup again, you’ll wish you were expelled. Do I make myself clear?”

The group scrambled to nod and mutter apologies before scurrying off, tails between their legs.

Once they were gone, Crewel sighed and gently turned you toward the door. “Let’s go get you some tea, pup. You’ll feel better after.”

You sniffled, managing a small smile. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

Masterlist

[ak319]

Yan Socialite Brother x reader x Yan?Hubby

YOUR LITTLE EZZY'S BACK! So I couldn't help but write more about him. I will also write a version with the reader's wife. Enjoy reading ♡ Ezra Headcanon

In the dark hours, the Alvarez estate was shrouded in a thick silence, broken only by the occasional crackle of the fire that danced in the hearth. Shadows stretched across the grand, dimly lit room, adding to the air of peculiar mystery that seemed to cloak the entire estate. Ezra sat motionless, his gaze fixed on the flames that flickered with a restless energy, mirroring the turmoil within him. The news you had shared with him still echoed in his mind, fanning the fire of his emotions, making it burn hotter, fiercer.

"Amir?.." his eyes were fixed on your back as you scrummaged through the bookshelf. You replied back gently. "Yes, Amir. The boy who works on one of the farms."

So a slave huh?

And then you explained everything to Ezra, from how you saw Amir, appreciated his gentle nature, and were now thinking of bringing him here as your groom. Ezra’s rage simmered beneath the surface, though his fake smile and curious eyes never left your face. But your tone didn’t match the word "thinking", it clearly said, "I am bringing him as my groom." He was happy… happy for you. But on the other hand, he wasn’t happy for himself.

This was the day he had dreaded. For his own peace of mind, he sent one of his attendants, Rowan, to inquire about this so-called Amir. The report? Amir was a poor servant with three siblings and parents who also worked on the farm. Amir was the oldest. Hm. Poor, innocent, loyal, and not too bad-looking, though in Ezra's eyes, everyone pales in comparison to Alvarez's. Nobody can ever be good enough for you. He just didn't want his sister to marry a dirt-face. After all, their family has a certain dignity in society. There was something he relished in this situation, Amir’s meekness, bred by his lower status, was something Ezra could use and if his sister were to marry, it should be to someone who knows their place.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Amir couldn’t shake the memory of the way you approached him that day.

“M-my lady-”

“It’s okay, relax. Just came to greet you and see how the work is going.” His hand continued to glide through the horse’s mane, though his gaze, filled with shyness and respect, lingered on you. You loved that. “What’s your name, boy?”

“A-Amir…ma’am.” You asked him more questions, and with each one, his initial fear of you began to fade. Eventually, he even dared to ask some of his own. He didn’t realize that he had backed away to the fence, cornered by your every step forward.

“I don’t think a…” You gently removed a leaf from his silky hair. “A pretty thing like you belongs on a farm.” His quick breaths brushed your face before he turned away. Did you just compliment him?! How could you not? He was so unique with that snowy hair and those pale green eyes. “U-um, but I have to-w-work to earn-for-”

“What if I say, not anymore?”

On that very day, you boldly asked his parents for his hand in marriage, right there on the farm, while Amir stood paralyzed in disbelief. His parents, naturally, agreed without a moment's pause, and his heart raced as he caught your final glance over your shoulder before you rode off with your men. How could a humble servant like him ever be worthy of becoming your husband? The idea felt impossible, undeserved. But as the reality settled in, he came to see it not as a blessing but as a test---a daunting trial between love, loyalty, hate… and obsession.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

'Time to play some games' Ezra smirked in the mirror as he gave himself a once-over. "Nobody can outshine you Ezra or take your place, nobody."

The grand staircase of the mansion, lavishly adorned for his sister's wedding, became the stage for Ezra's entrance. As he descended, everyone’s eyes were drawn to him. His gaze landed on you seated beside Amir on the sofa, and his smirk widened at the sight of Amir’s expression. Those doe eyes that have seduced his sister were now filled with embarrassment, as they should be.

Amir was at a loss. His brother-in-law, dressed in an outfit nearly identical to his own--albeit more glamorous and in a different color--had just exposed Ezra's facade. All the sweet words and actions before the wedding had been an act. Ezra settled onto the cushion next to you, casually nibbling on some food from the table, savoring the revelation of his little game.

"Ezra, you should have rested," you said, your tone carrying a hint of concern. Amir was taken aback, noticing your relaxed demeanour. It seemed you hadn’t caught onto Ezra’s stunt. It wasn’t your fault, after all. Maybe you are too tired to notice or don't want to scold your brother, whom you cherish deeply, especially in front of guests—many of whom were now eyeing Ezra with a mix of admiration and curiosity. His display was a calculated reminder that he would always eclipse Amir. Ezra had even missed the official ceremony, claiming illness as his excuse and retreating to his room.

"Nonsense!. How could I have missed my own sister's wedding? And did you forget that I managed all these preparations?. I would never miss it."

'Oh, but you missed the vow ceremony, how convenient and now he's here to remind everyone how he managed all of this and such a good brother-in-law he is by being sweet to me and my family.'

"Do I look good, sister?"

"Of course you do. When have you ever looked bad?" You reached out to pat his head affectionately before pulling a small pouch from your pocket. "This is for you Ezra, a token of appreciation for your efforts, as tradition dictates."

Ezra’s eyes sparkled with delight as he accepted the pouch of gold. "It was nothing. Thank you so much. I just did my duty."

He got up soon to cater to guests including Amir's family probably to show off how humble he is.

The only thing keeping Amir sane and easing his worries was you. Your hand held his gently, and he felt comforted by the ring you put on his finger. He placed his other hand on yours, needing the reassurance that you were there for him.

‘As long as you’re here,’ he kept praying silently.

However, as days passed since the marriage, Ezra's facade toward his brother-in-law began to crumble in your absence. Amir couldn’t understand why Ezra, who had been nothing but nice to him, now seemed to act cold and distant.

The taunts, the disgusted glances, and the deliberate ignoring of Amir had become a painful routine. What troubled him the most was Ezra’s ability to put on a friendly front when you were around. He wondered how a person could even do that? Can he be this deceitful too? His parents always taught him to be kind and true to people. That is why he bared himself to you, he opened his heart to you and gave himself completely. By now he had come to terms with it that Ezra won't ever see him as part of the family much less as an equal. But he remained focused on making sure you were happy with him, that he never made you upset with him because that is what Ezra wants but with Amir's modest and docile nature, it was nearly impossible,

"You know, Amir, since my sister is away on a business trip, you might as well stay with your parents for a while." Amir looked up from his untouched breakfast, confusion and concern etched on his face.

"U-um... why?"

"Why?" Ezra's lips curled into a dismissive smirk. "Well, your duty is to her, and since she’s not here, you might as well go. It’s not like you’re doing anything important around here."

"But—"

"I’ll have the carriage prepared." And just like that he got up and left, Rowan tailing behind him. And so, Amir found himself spending days with his family. His spirits lifted somewhat in their comforting presence, but his thoughts were always clouded by how much he longed to be in your arms. However...

"You don’t just get up and leave like this. Did you even realize how badly this reflects on me? My spouse just vanished after a few days of marriage. I expected you to be waiting for me at the door, but instead, you were here." Your words felt like sharp needles piercing his heart, making him clutch the carriage’s cushion tighter. His mind was filled with images of Ezra welcoming you back, whispering deceitful tales of how he had left.

'He was bored.'

'He doesn’t like it here. I think he doesn't even want to make an effort to adjust.'

'He didn’t even bother to greet you. What kind of husband is he, sister?'

"(Y/N), I d-didn’t mean to leave. It’s just--" What could he say to avoid further anger? Should he blame Ezra? The thought of making excuses or casting blame only added to his distress.

"I don’t care. Next time, don’t leave like that. And if you feel the need to, ask me first. Got it? Also, you can just call your family to visit there. That’s your home now, you don’t have to keep coming back here." He nodded, biting his lip. 'As if your brother would ever let my family feel welcome there. I would never subject them to that mansion of thorns, to be insulted. That’s something I won’t tolerate.'

"Forgive me?" he asked softly, leaning closer to you. "Please, I missed you with every breath." A tired sigh and a gentle caress on his face were all he received, but even that was more than enough for him.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Time seemed to pass slowly for Amir, each day filled with torment and venomous words from Ezra. He hid his tears, letting them out in some corner of the mansion , so that when you returned, he could greet you with a smile. He didn’t know what to do. He didn't want to stress you by complaining about your brother or involving you in this petty game. He felt like he was going mad as he dwelled on his thoughts. The books offered some solace, but he wished his life were more like a fairytale.

“Well, I thought you should take care of the household budget now, but I think it’s too soon for you to handle this. There are a number of reasons for my distrust, which... I would prefer not to share.”

“It’s alright... I just joined the family, so I think it’s inappropriate for me to take on that responsibility. And brother Ezra is handling it well anyway.”

“Thank you for understanding.” You gently played with his hair as his head rested on your lap. “I love how understanding you are.” He melted under your compliment, the magical touch adding to his contentment.

“Anything for you, wife. You know better than me. Whatever decision you make, I’ll always accept it.” He kissed your finger, his heart swelling with happiness at the sight of the ring you wore. The ring his family had bought with whatever they could afford, and yet you wore it. You were the only one who hadn’t looked down on him because of his status. You even cared for his family, sending them provisions and gifts.

Actually, there was another person who hadn't looked down on Amir--your mother, Ms. Grace. She was a woman who preferred solitude, keeping herself busy with her hobbies after her husband's death. Whenever Amir felt alone, he made sure to check on her, offering company and conversation.

“You’re a really good boy. My daughter found a gem.” Amir smiled, but his eyes told a different story. They were seated in Grace’s study, having tea. “Something troubles you, and I know what it is. It’s Ezra, isn’t it?” Damn it, is it that obvious?

“N-no, no, he’s nice. I’m just--”

“Oh, save it. He’s my son, I can smell his shenanigans from miles away. And that daughter of mine—utterly stupid!. She’s the reason he’s like this. Either she’s too aloof or just chooses to ignore it.”

“No, no! She has a lot on her plate. I just don’t want to burden her with such petty problems. She brought me here so that she could find peace, not for me to disrupt it.” Grace’s heart swelled with pity and love at his words. “You are my son too, okay? And I’m just trying to help you understand that you’re the only one who can help yourself.”

“W-what does that mean?”

"It means you have to be strong. You’re not some piece of garbage my daughter picked up. She brought you here, gave you a title, and bestowed you with respect--so honor it, and don’t let anyone take it away just because they think you don’t deserve it. My in-laws were a piece of work too. May their souls rest in peace, but I went through some tough times with them. What kept me firm was my husband. Do you get my point?"

Her in-laws--oh, what a tragedy that befell them on that ferry. The whole town was shaken. Perhaps it was their karma.

“Yes.”

"You love her, right?" His head snapped up to meet her eyes. Was that even a question?

"More than anything! Always."

"Then don’t beat yourself up like this. Just do your part and leave the rest to God. Everything will be alright one day." Amir nodded and took a sip of his remaining tea, feeling a bit lighter and more hopeful. She was right. Being depressed and crying wouldn’t get him anywhere. Worse, you might even leave him because of his sulky behavior. His fingers tightened around the saucer.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"Sir Ezra has called for you," Rowan informed him as he was putting on his shoes. The two of you were getting ready for dinner. "Me?"

"Yes, you, sir. In his room."

"I'll be there." He glanced at you as you were fastening your coat. "Yeah, go ahead, I'll be waiting downstairs." He nodded and left, but not before helping you with your sleeve buttons and giving you a quick peck.

"You called for me?" His smooth voice reverberated in the quiet room, his eyes finding Ezra nestled in his giant bed.

"Oh yes, you two are going out, right? Could you tell (Y/N) to bring back those pastries that I love?" Something felt off.

Amir swallowed the uneasiness and glanced between Ezra and Rowan. "Sure. Anything else?"

"No. That would be all, thank you."

As always, you had chosen a high-end restaurant, and your presence and attention made him forget all his worries. This was what he cherished the most, his time with you. Your care, your love. He felt, no, believed that he was the luckiest man alive. Contrary to Grace's words, you did pick him from the trash and made him your treasure.

When you both entered the mansion hand in hand, your smile immediately faded into a worried frown.

"EZRA!" Amir barely had time to react as he saw you rush up the stairs where Ezra was now slumped against the railing. The bag of pastries had been thrown from your hands and lay at his feet.

"ROWAN! CALL THE DOCTOR! What happened, Ezra?!"

"Di-did you bring the med...?" Ezra's one hand gripped your collar as the other his stomach.

"What medicine?!"

"The one I asked for..." Ezra's weary, hollow gaze turned to Amir, sending a chill through his very core. "Rowan, help me carry him." You shot a sharp glance over your shoulder at Amir as you hurried up the stairs.

'He did it again... God,' Thought Amir as he bent down to collect the crumbles scattered on the carpet. They mirrored his own shattered emotions and the fractured state of his new life.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I swear he asked for pastries... you believe me, don't you!? Please!"

"I said, let it go. Just shut up." You settled onto the bed, sighing as you saw him standing in the corner, emotionless.

"Amir, come here. There is something you should know." Your tone was soft, almost apologetic.

He sat beside the bed, his eyes cast on the floor. "Listen, I feel like you both don't get along, but that needs to change, okay? He is my brother, and you are my husband. Both of you are important to me. And I wanted to tell you that soon after having a talk with him, I will ask Mother to find a suitable bride for him. This family needs an heir."

Wait...

"Heir?"

"Yes, an heir. Even though, as you know, I'm not a fan of children in any shape or form, the line needs to continue. That is Ezra's duty, so he is essential to me. This whole tedious business of having children...ugh." You rubbed your forehead in frustration. "Whatever. But we will also treat them like our own, okay?" You loathed the idea of carrying a child yourself, and Amir was just as opposed to the thought of you experiencing any discomfort. The thought of losing you over that made him shiver. The business was more important to you than anything, and you made that very clear before marriage. Your word was law. Still, he couldn’t help but ask.

"C-can't we both... adopt, though?"

"That's for another day and why adopt now when we can have our own? Ezra has to marry someday. It’s completely fair. He needs to grow up now."

Your tone and earlier outburst made him nod frantically, but a new emotion stirred within him , something close to amusement. Oh, how will Ezra react when you make him marry someone. Maybe it’s for the best, 'At least he’ll get off my back, hopefully.'

Yet, he also felt pity for the woman who would be bound to that two-faced bastard. Is your only goal to use your brother as a breeder? That’s even more amusing.

As you lay down, he went to the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror. If Ezra were to provide you with a child one day, wouldn’t that make him more honorable in your eyes?

'No, after today’s stunt, I’ve had enough of this.'

You want a child, an heir--that’s clear, that's fine. But he won’t let Ezra exploit this situation.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"I--I mean--" Ezra stammered, his usual confidence wavering as he tried to find the right words.

You held his face in your hands, your grip firm yet gentle, your eyes searching his. "It's not like I am asking for something outrageous here," you said, your tone soft but laced with expectation.

Ezra's eyes darted away for a moment, then back to you. "I get you, but isn’t it too soon? I mean-"

"You're of age," you cut him off, your tone now tinged with a bit of annoyance. "You’ve never rejected anything I’ve asked of you before, and now you are?"

"NO! No, absolutely not, sister!" Ezra's voice was a mix of desperation and determination. "How can you even think that? I will do it. I will." Inside, though, his mind rebelled. It’s not the marriage that Ezra hates, it’s the idea of spending his life with some annoying woman. What if she turns out to be a snake too?! Oh, he won't forgive that, ever. His eyes betrayed a flicker of dread before he quickly masked it with a forced smile.

"Great, then. Mother will surely find the most amazing match for you," you said with finality, turning to leave. "Just make sure to tell her what your type is. Remember, she shouldn’t just be a good wife but a perfect mother for my heir too."

Without another word, you exited the room, leaving Ezra alone with his spiraling thoughts. Did Amir put this idea in your head? Sometimes, Ezra just wanted to kill that son of a-

"Deep breaths, Ezra, deep breaths," he muttered to himself, trying to quell the surge of frustration. Yeah, his sister wouldn’t be happy if her husband was torn to pieces. 'This is your life now', seeing Amir’s face in this mansion every single day, and soon enough, a wife’s too. Ugh! He threw a vase at the wall in a fit of irritation. He won't ever be in peace until you divorce Amir.

He couldn’t afford to dwell on that for now. He had to carry out your order, even if he despised the thought of dealing with an annoying woman and whining babies. You had given him a task, a job, and he couldn’t let you down. He would never let you down.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Ezra's bride, Jean Aston, had been chosen--an arrangement made with a family friend. While Ezra couldn't have cared less about the choice, he at least appreciated that Jean stood out with her striking red hair and green eyes. His wife needed to be of some caliber, though in his view, only one person could be the true beauty of the marriage, and that person was unquestionably him. However, he also acknowledged the importance of passing on good genes to the heir you desired.

What he hadn’t expected was Jean’s bubbly demeanor. Wasn't she the one who had been too shy to meet him before the wedding?

"Can you be quiet? Can you be a bit more demure?" Ezra snapped, his patience wearing thin as she chattered incessantly, sitting beside him after their vows. "Look at me--am I being so chattery? Bride and groom are supposed to be graceful, woman."

Jean’s expression soured beneath her veil. "Wow, I was just trying to make small talk. I’ve been quiet since our engagement, so I’m going to talk now that we’re married. Also when is the food going to served?I am starving, how can-"

'God, just let this ceremony end already.'

Meanwhile, in the far corner of the room, Amir sighed, silently wishing Jean the best. Poor girl didn’t know what she was in for. His mind wandered back to his own wedding, the memory leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. It was hard not to compare the two experiences and feel a twinge of sympathy for her. At least you are way better than Ezra. A lot...no, perfect in his eyes. Always.

Once they retreated to their room, Ezra lifted Jean's veil with a cold, expressionless face, cutting her off before she could utter a word.

"There are some things you need to engrain in that skull of yours. First, always show respect for my sister. Always. You know that, don’t you? Secondly, try talking less and listening more."

"Got it! Now, where’s my wedding gift?" Jean’s cheerful interruption made Ezra’s jaw tighten, but he quickly masked his irritation with a smooth composure.

"No, you tell me first--who advised you to wear a harvest gold veil with such questionable embroidery? Huh? Such a poor fashion choice. I’ve explicitly told your family that gold is my color, I wear it. I don’t want to see you in it again." His fingers traced the material with a disdainful touch. "This abomination definitely needs fixing ." Though the veil was actually quite pretty, he couldn’t accept the fact that she looked good in it-- perhaps more than he did which is a big no.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

Months later, the mansion, once quiet and dull, now echoed with the cries of a baby boy whom you named, Joseph. Ezra handed you the baby first which you were hesitant to hold but did anyway, after all you asked for this. It only lasted for a few minutes before he dozed off in Jean's arms.

"Jean," you said, gently patting her head. She looked up at you with a mix of nervousness and curiosity, her eyes brightening with anticipation. You took the papers from Amir and handed them to her. "Here's a gift. A plot, in your name and another in dear Joseph's. You’ve earned it."

Jean’s eyes widened with surprise and gratitude. "Y-you didn’t have to, (Y/N)-"

"Jean," Ezra scolded gently, his tone surprising you. It seemed that your brother had softened a bit since Joseph’s birth.

"Don’t refuse (Y/N)'s gift. Accept it," he added. Jean nodded, her shyness evident, but her gratitude clear as she met your gaze. "Thank you, (Y/N)."

"Good, now rest. The nanny will arrive soon," you instructed, leaving with Amir in tow. Ezra shot a disapproving look at Amir as they exited.

"Don’t be rude to Brother Amir like that," Jean reprimanded.

"It’s none of your concern. Stop being his defender, anyway. Focus on the child, his upbringing must be perfect. And take care of yourself too--I don’t want you fainting while feeding him." With that, Ezra stormed out. Jean sighed, finding him as unpredictable as ever--hot one moment, cold the next.

The tragedy that struck when Joseph was just six months old was unexpected. The poor child fell gravely ill, and even the doctors couldn't pinpoint what was wrong with his stomach. But by some blessing, everyone's prayers were answered when Amir's remedy worked, one his mother used to give when they were sick as children and Joseph was saved. Had it been a moment later, who knows what could have happened. Even though Ezra didn't bother to thank Amir, it didn’t matter. Amir did it for you, for your child.

༺𓆩❀𓆪༻

"You know, I think it's been a while since I married you," you murmured, lost in thought.

Amir looked up from his book and chuckled, "Oh, you realized it now? I think it's been more than a while, my dearest."

"I know, I know." You now stood where he was seated, gently caressing his cheek. "I think it's time you start doing your duty here." You handed him the seal, "You're in charge of the household's budget now." Amir's eyes widened in surprise. "B-but brother Ezra--"

"Shush," you interrupted. "I decide how things are run here. And I’m giving you this responsibility. Don’t disappoint me."

He nodded, a grateful smile spreading across his face as he kissed your knuckles. "Never, I won’t ever dream of it."

From within, his heart was bursting with happiness. At last, he had something--something he wanted, something he could use as leverage against Ezra. His plan had worked flawlessly. His hidden knowledge of botany had made it all possible; plants to make poison, plants to make antidote. A soft giggle escaped him and so did some tears, as you left the room, the seal twirling between his fingers.

Deep inside, he couldn’t ignore the guilt gnawing at him as he saw the pain etched on everyone’s faces over Joseph. His own tears stung with remorse, but he believed it was a good plan--a necessary one to win your trust, your love. He hadn’t wanted to be so heartless, to poison his own child, but he felt he had no choice. Being Ezra’s doormat for so long had worn him down. And for once, watching Ezra in distress was so worth it. Amir couldn’t help but relish every moment.

(AN: OmG, Amir really turned dark, the poor innocent boi. Look how Ezra massacred my boy)

[rintoshis-archived]

if your request r still open— what about Hobie and his crazy in love gf— her being so obsessed and in love with her boyfriend and coming to his house and lifting her shirt and hobie thinking she’s just needy and horny but she’s showing him how she got his name tatted on her, maybe a tramp stamp or something

𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 - ft. hobie brown / spiderpunk

🎸、 . *. ⋆ spanking, mentions of tattoos (reader), poor attempt at British slang. lmk if there's more! ✧. word count: 453

The doorknob squeaks when your hands touched it, almost as if it feared your presence in Hobie's house. Yes, you did come uninvited; but Hobie said he'd welcome you in whenever you wanted right? Obviously, who would turn down such an offer?

Hobie was in the living room, strumming his guitar with his spiky headphones. The floors creak when Hobie's kicks landed on them, he was generous enough to let you wear them whenever you wanted.

You were wearing his sweater, shoes, and the ring he made for you. He was oblivious enough to not notice you, but the smirk that grew on his face only proved you wrong.

'''Ya can't go a day without me, huh?'' Hobie told you, still tuning his guitar with his feet kicked on the sofa. ''Mm, I really can't Hobie.'' You tell him, your hands behind your back. If it wasn't evident enough (It really wasn't.) you came to show Hobie your new 'tat that you got done today.

But it seemed like Hobie had something else in mind.

''Sit'' Hobie separated his arms and invited you into his lap. ''Hobie... Not right now, silly.'' Your words made Hobie's brow turn upwards, you usually come at this time specifically and come at his house to have some sex.

''Why not, darl?'' The nickname made you shiver, his deep and raspy voice only enticing you further. But you were too excited to show Hobie your new tattoo that you got done specifically for him.

You didn't say anything when you took off Hobie's sweater, showing off your low-rise jeans that almost expose your ass and thong. You only wore a bra, so the tattoo wouldn't get covered.

There it was. It wrote; 'Hobie' right on the slope of your ass. Hobie was stunned, to say the least. He almost felt drool dripping out of his mouth, even. He pulled you in his lap almost instantly when he laid eyes on the ink tainted on your body.

''Fuck, princess. You couldn't have gotten any hotter.'' Hobie kissed your back, trailing downwards to the tattoo. His hand slaps your left cheek, firm and slender hands landing on your ass. You let out a small whimper, it only made your panties a lot more soaked than it was.

''Hobie...'' ''Want me to bend you over and fuck you from the back, hm? 'Wanna see my name bounce on your ass.'' His hands toyed with the flesh of your butt, his nails trailing on his name.

You moan in response, grinding on Hobie's thigh.

might write a part two to this with full smut ! ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

[peaches-and-creamm]

𝓰𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓼𝓸𝓭𝓪

wc: 3.4k or so

WARNINGS: fem reader, semi-public sex, soft dom!Megumi, sub!reader. p in v, unprotected sex, cumming inside, use of pet names- giving and receiving; baby, pretty girl, good girl, and an established relationship.

CHARACTERS OF AGE / OR AGED UP!

A/N: basically you n megumi fuck outside by the vending machines lmao, i havent written smut in so long so sorry if its ass LMAOO

Ever since it started getting hotter outside everyone, of course, switched to their summer uniforms.

And although the boys usually would just trash their shirts off to the side if they happened to get too sweaty or something during training, Megumi preferred to just relax in the shadows, observing while he drank his water.

His gaze found its way to you, though(as always). The way you were swinging around your practice sword, how your chest bounced while you hoisted the piece of wood above you, swinging down and to the side towards where your sparring partner was.

Megumi found it hard to even focus on anything else but how your body moved, each twist and turn you did to avoid incoming attacks making his stomach turn in a way he usually tries to avoid. He hated feeling like some kind of pervert who watches women just exist- doing normal things and getting aroused by it, yet he couldn't stop to even imagine anything other than how your body looks in that pretty new uniform you'd just gotten.

His attention was finally turned to something else- forcefully, mind you. He'd completely forgotten he himself was supposed to be doing hand-to-hand today, but now he could only look to his palm and remember how soft your chest felt. He balled his hand into a fist and shook his head to clear some of the lewd thoughts that raced through his mind, he knew he had to stop himself before this went any further- and he practically forced himself to no longer look in your direction.

Though when his deep blue eyes met your own his breath caught in his throat- it was like it was the first time you two met all over again. And, when you smiled and waved in his direction before getting smacked upside the head by your sparring partner for being distracted so easily, he gulped- a small dusting of pink coating his cheeks as he quickly avoided his gaze, opting to watch the ground as he walked towards where the vending machines were.

After not too long, he saw your distinct figure from the corner of his eye, your bouncy walk and happy smile on your face as you approached him.

"Hey Megumiiii!" You said happy as you stood beside him, watching as he pressed the button on the machine without even having to look at what he's getting. He knew already, ginger soda- as always. What would be the point of giving it his attention when you were right next to him?

He gulped as he gave you a once over, his gaze lingering on a stray hair that was stuck to your sweat clad forehead, lingering on how your cheeks were red because of your previous movements- he thought it was cute. 

He loved watching how proud you looked after you'd win a practice fight, and he could tell by how excited you looked that you'd most likely won, even including the fact you were distracted for a moment.

"Hey." He simply spoke with a small smile on his face, not looking you in the eyes while he inspected how the sweat you had worked up had caused your shirt to stick to your soft skin.

The vending machine clunked as his drink fell out, but before he could bend down to grab it you reached your hand up to his shoulder to pull him down slightly so your lips could meet in a brief kiss onto his own cold lips.

He blinked a few times in surprise before his eyes met yours for a moment. He cleared his throat once, a pink dusting his cheeks he leaned down to grab his drink.

"Saw ya' sulking on the bleachers, you okay megs?" You innocently questioned, your head tilted to the side as you scanned his body for any possible injuries of the sort.

"Huh? I wasn't sulking..?" He leaned down to reach through the metal flap of the spot in the machine that dispenses the drink and he grabbed it with a large hand.

He fiddled with the tab of the drink, eyes glued to it as his cheeks got hotter while he thought of how your lips felt. His eyebrows furrowed as he found focus in pushing the tab up and down, causing a little 'dink' noise every time he flicked the cool metal.

You hummed to yourself as you watched him fidget, your lips pursing together as you looked him up and down a few times. You put your hand over his that held the can and his gaze went from your hand, up your arm and finally scouring your face, taking in every detail.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" You quietly asked, your hand moving to let go of his own but he quickly caught you by your wrist, holding you still for a moment before clearing his throat again and letting you go.

"No, no..just.... distracted, I guess.." He scratched the back of his neck with a shrug, feeling the sweat that had formed on the skin from his lewd thoughts alone.

"Oh, Is everything okay?" You stood closer to him, a comforting hand finding itself onto his shoulder. You rubbed gentle circles onto his tense shoulder with a warm smile on your face.

His grip tightened around the drink and you could hear how the metal crinkled under his hold. You saw how his jaw flexed when he clenched his teeth together and your face twisted to that of worry.

"Megum-" Before you could get your words out the can clunked to the concrete and his large, cold hands were on either side of your face.

"Let me kiss you." He plainly said, his eyes not leaving yours as he waited for an answer. The expression on his face was almost unreadable, and while he waited for your response he moved one of his hands to grasp at your hip, stumbling into you and forcing you to take a few steps back.

You gasped at the feeling of the cold brick wall meeting the wet of your back, your shirt sticking further onto you. You shivered as his thumb found its way under the bottom of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your hip bone. It was then you realized how much he was panting, how flustered and almost...uncomfortable he looked while staring into your eyes.

You slowly nodded to him, your cheeks red as your hand shakily met his own that held your face. He took a step back, giving you room to breathe before he shut his eyes and shook his head.

"Say it out loud, I wanna hear you say it-" He said as his thumb grazed over your lower lip, letting out a shaky breath when you parted your lips to begin speaking.

"Kiss me-" You uttered quietly, and he quickly lurched forwards to you, cupping both of your cheeks in his hands and squishing your lips to his- the hold he had on you almost hurt but your teeth clashing together was a distraction.

You hummed into the kiss, one hand gently cupping his cheek and the other tangled in his dark hair. But after a moment he seemed to become greedier, him trying to lean further into you. You winced as the brick wall scratched against your skin through your damp shirt.

"Gumi- megumi, hey-" You pushed back against his chest to gain some distance between the two of you. He only hummed in acknowledgement, not bothering to look away from your lips- too distracted with how he already missed how they felt on his own.

"What?" His blue eyes flickered from your mouth to your own eyes a few times before settling on that piece of hair that stuck to your forehead, gently brushing it to the side and cupping your red cheek in his palm.

"What's gotten into you? I-I mean I'm not complaining but-" You stuttered a bit, your hand moving to hold his wrist while your hand on his chest messed with his uniform top.

"But?" He quirked an eyebrow at you, his eye twitching as he forced himself to look away from your body and into your eyes.

You watched him shuffle from side to side, almost nervously. He could tell he was beginning to get antsy, the sight of you in front of him (practically pinned to the wall by him, might I add.) made his pants feel all the more tighter.

 He'd never gotten like this before- he hated even kissing in public but now, the thought of taking you right here and now made his mind go feral with all sorts of thoughts- mostly memories of you when you’ve been under him. 

He gulped and rested his head on your shoulder, taking deep, shaky breaths as his hand gripped at your arm.

"But you're not acting like usual. Should I be worried?" You joked slightly, a hand traveling through his dark hair. He shivered when he felt your nails scrub at his scalp, and cringed at how he was acting. 

It was true- he hated whenever he got like this, especially in public, but he just didn't find it in him to care. No, not with how he felt your chest rise when you giggled at him, you finding how he hid his red face in your shoulder cute.

Your giggle was cut off with an unexpected yelp when his teeth nipped at the underside of your jaw, he felt his body tense up at how your breath got caught in your throat.

"fuck-" He mumbled under his breath, pulling away so the two of you could look at eachother eye to eye. He parted your lips with his thumb and sucked in a sharp breath when you pulled the digit between your lips for a moment, your tongue barely sliding over it before softly kissing it.

"Want you-" He cut himself off slightly, groaning inwardly at how desperate he sounded. "Now, preferably." 

He pushed your hips back so they met the wall, his leg sliding in between your knees so you open your legs more- giving him plenty of room to situate his own hips against yours. You took in a deep breath as you felt his bulge pressing against your tummy, your hands reaching up to grab at his broad shoulders to keep yourself feeling steady.

"N-now...? H-here?!" You squeaked out, grip against him tightening. He brought a finger to your lips to quiet you, shushing you gently.

“Can’t if you keep being loud about it, now can we?” He gulped as he puckered your lips together, his tongue wetting his own, now empty feeling, dry lips as he admired the redness in yours.

"Oh, u-um...." You sucked in a breath through your teeth, shivering at how he tugged the collar of your shirt down some to nip at your collar bones.

"Say stop and I will." He held you by the shoulders, his hot breath fanning across your face as he tried his hardest to keep it steady.

"Say stop." He brought one of the hands up to your red hot cheek and melted when you leaned into his palm. You went to shake your head, then realized he wanted verbal conformation again so you took a deep breath, gulped, then spoke.

"don't stop...." He took a deep shaky breath at this and he put his hands up either side of your head, steading himself on the wall he was now pinning you to.

"I don't....have, uh-" He gulped nervously, letting out a breathy- awkward laugh.

"wait-" He moved away from you- apologizing for squishing your hair slightly as he frantically patted himself down, looking for a condom.

At his dejected groan you couldn't help but giggle at his antics.

"It's in my jacket.." He groaned again and rested his forehead against your shoulder. He panted out as you wiggled under his grasp, flat out whimpering when your thigh grazed his painfully hard erection.

"It's okay- we can just go to the store after." You could barely finish speaking before he began kissing you again, pulling back briefly to apologize for not asking.

"please?" He quietly whispered against your flesh, tapping at the backs of your thighs. You quickly got the message and jumped up so he could wrap your legs around his middle, pressing your crotches together for much needed friction.

"fuck me, megumi~" He hissed at your words, moaning quietly into your ear when you reached your hand down to palm him through his uniform pants.

"I-I could go get it hah-" He was cut off by a shaky, quiet moan from your hands sliding under his waistband- squeezing his hard cock through his boxers.

"s' okay megs, want you- I want you.." Your breathing became heavier as he left sloppy kisses against your neck. "Can I take this off..?" He quietly asked, tugging slightly at your top.

You shook your head 'no', yet grabbed his hand and put it under your top- whimpering slightly when he pinched your hardening nipple.

"Don't want anyone but you seeing me-" You watched as he slowly tugged your shirt up a bit, his body hovering over you more to make sure your slightly exposed chest was hidden from any people who might pass by.

"You're so pretty- um, always.." He gulped as he held your shirt up with one hand, bringing his other one to roll and pinch at the hard bud. This drew a long whine out of you.

You shook your head no, denying the fact he had just complemented you, your blush spreading to your ears. You messed with his belt a bit, silently pleading for him to remove them.

He quickly got the hint and hoisted you up further, now supporting you with one strong arm as his other moved to fiddle with his buckle.

“You sure this is oka-“ But before he could finish speaking you kissed him, breaths mixing together, lips surely red and puffy by now.

“please, megumi- I want you, now, preferably!” You repeated his previous words with a laugh and a playful shake of your head. This drew a short half laugh half snort out of him, him shaking his head with a smile on his face.

“Can I take this off?” He asked, tugging to your shorts, eyes wide and pupils blown out as he stared inbetween your legs- waiting for an answer.

“mhm-“ You simply said with a curt nod of your head and he wasted zero time before gently setting you down, tugging at your soft belt to untie it and hastily pulling both your underwear and shorts down in one swift motion.

He grabbed at his own pants, pulling them down just enough so his crotch would be able to be freed-

Megumi looked from his lower half to your own bare one and leaned down slightly so he could easily grasp at the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up so your back was against the wall yet again.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and hooked your ankles together behind him, your hole squeezing around nothing as you watched him hiss from the air meeting his cock once he released it from the restricting confines of his boxers

“Um, can I?” He stuttered a bit, cursing under his breath as he gave himself a few, teasingly slow pumps to his length.

“Jesus- stop asking and just fuck me already!”

“Okay, okay-!” He kissed you gently once, watching as he began aligning himself with your entrance. He spread his cock head up and down your wet folds, lubing himself up with your own slick.

“Fuck, please-“ You whined out, your hole clenching around nothing as you tried to lift your hips closer to his.

He adjusted his grasp on you slightly, making sure the position he was in wouldn’t hurt you as he slowly began sliding in. He bit his lip harshly to stop what would’ve been a loud moan as his hips slowly pushed into your own.

“please move- please, megs-“ You gripped at his hair by the nape of his neck, eyes rolling back as he bottomed out. He panted into your shoulder, laying what would surely become purple and red marks later around the base of your neck.

“Just give me one second- just nghh-“ He whined as you bucked your hips into him, beginning to just move on your own as best as you could.

“Hold on, you’re gonna hurt yourself..” He tried his best to reason, but made no move to stop you. In fact, he pulled you closer- lifting one of your knees up higher than the other so he could slowly begin thrusting up into you.

“ahh~ gumi, s’ good-“ Your words were already beginning to become slurred, and he smashed your mouths together to stop moans from escaping the both of you.

This didn’t stop you from trying to speak, though. You swore against his lips, his name falling from your lips that were muffled against his own.

The soft sounds of your hips meeting aggressively every few seconds drove you crazy, anyone passing would know what was going on if they so much as walked by, and this thought only made you clench around him further.

“Good girl, so good for me, a-always..” He moved one of his hands to grasp at your chest from under your shirt and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle the awful noises that threatened to slip past.

“Here, let me just…” He stopped his thrusts for just a few seconds and you practically felt like sobbing from the lack of contact. Sure you’ve done it raw before, but only once or twice- and never in public.

He adjusted you so your legs were wider so one of his hands could easily move to rub at your clit while he began to move again. The moan this pulled out of you was almost animalistic, and he couldn’t help from grunting into your ear, his own noises growing louder as you babbled pleas for who knows what.

“mmm~ wanna cum, I wanna cum, gumi-“ You whimpered out, the grip on his hair tightening as you tugged him closer to you for a kiss. Your lips met sloppily and you could feel how your mixed saliva coated your chin.

“Come on pretty- please, please cum for me pretty girl-“ He whispered into your ear, trying his best to keep his voice steady- though it was hard with his own high approaching. His calloused fingers rubbed faster against your clit and he felt how you tightened around him further, your legs shaking as you slowly went more and more limp in his grasp.

“g’nna cum baby~, gonna cum megumi- nghh~ a-ahh” The only that could pass from your swollen red lips was his name, and his own noises picked up as well as he listened to you beg for him.

“In me, please- gotta get ahh~ hah- gotta go to the store n get plan b anyway. Make it worth it, please megs wanna feel you in me~” You babbled nonsense, your ankles only tightening behind his back as you pulled him in closer to you so he couldn’t pull out.

“gonna cum-“ The both of you said in unison, soft moans and pants filling the corner you two were held up in.

“so pretty, so pretty-“ He mumbled praises, your lips locking together as his hip began to stutter- pace uneven as he thrusted into you. You felt him twitch inside of you, and soon after you felt incredibly warm- his seed filling you up quickly. He was beginning to get overstimulated but didn’t stop his weak thrusts until your back arched off the wall with a cry of his name as you came on his cock.

“fuck-“ You moaned out, your eyes opening as you looked to him with dopey smile on your face.

“Could I, uh, ask what got you so worked up…?” You quietly thanked him as he helped you down, holding you steady as he helped you put your clothes back on.

“I, um..” He scratched the back of his neck before clearing his throat, buckling his belt back up and zipping his zipper. He looked towards you with an almost apologetic expression on his face- borderline embarrassed.

“Just….existing, I guess..” He shrugged and looked away, frowning as he saw the can on the ground. Waste of a perfectly good soda.

You followed his gaze and kissed his hot cheek, ignoring the shine of sweat that coated his face.

“Let me buy you a new one.”

M.LIST♥

[nadvs]

out of bounds (part six)

pairing zach maclaren and soccerplayer! female reader

rating mature 18+ for smut

summary zach has never been the type to rebel, but when he meets you at a soccer camp where you’re both working as counselors, which has a strict policy against dating between staff, he’s tempted to break the rules for the first time.

» part one | two | three | four | five

» masterlist

Every made-up explanation you can think of won’t cut it. Nothing you say will be believable. You’ve been found out.

“They’re bug bites?” you say weakly, pulling up your shirt so the hickeys aren’t in clear view anymore. Ami laughs, shaking her head.

“I knew you and Zach were a thing,” she says. “Why didn’t you just tell me? I wouldn’t judge. You know that I’m breaking the rules, too.”

You sigh, dropping back into your bed.

“We really don’t want it getting around,” you say.

“Then you should be more careful about where you let bugs bite you,” she laughs.

“Ami,” you groan, half-chuckling. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“I won’t. You can trust me,” she says. “When did this start?”

You sit back up and give her surface details, recapping when you two kissed by the lake, then tried and failed to wait until after the season to pursue anything.

“Have you guys…” she asks with raised brows. Your cheeks burn.

“Last night,” you admit. Your stomach goes numb at the memory. “But seriously, you can’t mention it to anyone. If people find out and he gets fired, it’d crush him.”

The amusement in Ami’s eyes fades, replaced with compassion.

“Wow. You’re really worried, huh?” she says.

“He’s the sweetest guy I’ve ever met. I don’t want him to get in trouble,” you reply. “We decided today that we’ll keep things on hold. For real this time.”

“Can you keep it on hold?” she asks. “I don’t know about you, but it being forbidden makes it ten times hotter.”

You shrug. You’re unsure if you’d be doing this much this fast with Zach if you met outside of work, and he did tell you last night that he never moves this quickly with a girl.

“I’m going to have to try,” you say. Zach’s hard to resist, but for his sake, you don’t want to give in.

“Fair,” Ami sighs. “I knew it, though. Malcolm called me crazy.”

“You talked about it with him?”

“Yeah, the night you went shopping,” she says. “I said that I think there’s something there and Malcolm was like, I can tell he likes her, but there’s no way he’d break the rules. I wish I could rub it in his face.”

You shoot her a look.

“But I won’t,” she promises. You nod gratefully.

“He can tell he likes me?” you ask.

“He said when you’re around, Zach smiles way more than usual,” she recalls, “which is already a lot to begin with, apparently.”

Your heart flutters. Zach is already such a cheerful person, so to think you make him even happier, and very obviously at that, is flattering.

“I guess Malcolm would know since they’ve been best friends for so long,” you say.

“Yeah,” Ami agrees. “He actually…”

She chuckles.

“What?”

“He was randomly talking about Zach the other day,” Ami continues, “and he said that he treats every girlfriend like he’s gonna marry her. I guess he’s a hopeless romantic, so I hope you’re prepared for that.”

You chuckle, wholeheartedly believing it. Zach is sweet and sensitive and while you didn’t doubt his sincerity for a second, hearing that he’s not one for flings is a relief. Because you want so much more with him.

“Good to know,” you reply. “And you and Malcolm are still keeping things casual or…?”

“I don’t know,” she says with a hopeful smile. “But if it gets more serious, I wouldn’t be mad about it or anything.”

You laugh together and finally, you allow yourself to gush about the man who’s thrown you for such an unexpected loop. It feels nice to not have to keep it in anymore.

You’re relieved when Saturday rolls around. Even though fun days at camp are just as busy, you welcome a break from running training drills.

After breakfast in the dining hall, Ruby announces to the campers to prepare for a morning of hiking, an afternoon of swimming, and a camp-wide relay race before dinner.

The sky is cloudy, but the chance of rain is low, so you stay optimistic that you won’t be forced to spend the day inside.

You quickly realize it’s not going to be as easy to keep your distance from Zach today, because you’re put in a hiking group with him.

As you set out on the trail with your cohorts of campers, their chatter loud over the sounds of shoes crunching over the dirt and birds chirping in the sky, Zach leads the crowd under towering trees that line the perimeter of the campground.

It’s only been a couple of days since you spoke with him about cooling things down, but not talking how you used to has been disheartening. Neither of you have been scheming to find ways to be alone like you used to, settling for friendly conversations whenever your paths cross.

“We’ll get a pretty cool view at the midpoint,” Zach says loudly to the campers, turning back. He meets your eyes for a second, a small smile flashing on his face, before he looks ahead again.

You wonder if he took your words as you suggesting you two shouldn’t talk at all, when that’s far from the truth.

You make conversation with your campers while you hike, and when you reach the height of a steep trail, you approach Zach as he looks out at the view of lush forestland.

“Hi,” you say quietly. His eyebrows raise when he sees you, like he’s surprised you’re speaking to him. It’s your first moment out of earshot from others in too long.

“Hey,” he says.

“You know, I didn’t mean we can’t talk at all,” you say with a soft laugh.

The pang of rejection has been burrowed in Zach’s chest since your last private conversation. He’s hardly ever one for overthinking, but since you came into his life, all he does is mull over everything you do and say to him, anxious that you don’t like him as much as he likes you.

But now, as he gets lost in the softness in your gaze, he realizes what an idiot he is for worrying that you don’t also think that what you have is special.

And although he wants you to say he wants to hear that you’ll keep trying to hide your relationship, he needs to remind himself that you’re just being careful. He shoves down the prickly feeling and smiles at you.

“I thought I wasn’t even allowed to look at you,” he jokes to dismiss his uneasiness.

“Stop,” you chuckle. “How’ve you been?”

Zach’s blue eyes dart over his shoulder, his lips flattening.

“I miss you,” he half-whispers.

You tilt your head as you gaze up at him, your lips in an endeared frown. You’ve gotten used to there always being a sense of a playful smirk on his face, a look of mischief in his eyes, but right now, he’s completely doleful.

“I miss you, too,” you say. “Forcing each other into the friend-zone sucks.”

Zach laughs, his heart warming.

“No kidding,” he says. At this point, he just needs to get through a few more weeks as just your friend. It feels like forever, but he’ll get through it.

After lunch, counselors work together to set up for an afternoon by the lake, handing campers life jackets and inflating water toys.

After set-up, you stand on the dock, shades shielding your eyes now that the sun has peeked out from behind fluffy clouds.

You look out at the beautiful water, surrounded by campers talking and laughing, feeling that calming sense of being where you’re meant to be. Even though the days are tiring and the kids can be difficult, you’re so glad you came here.

You hear Zach’s familiar voice as he chats and walks past you, followed by two boys. He leans down to grip the edge of the empty canoe bobbing in the water on the dockside, gently reminding them to enter the boat slowly.

You can tell he’s been running around tirelessly, his lips parted as he pants, sweat sheening his skin.

When he stands to collect the ore, he quickly lifts the bottom of his shirt up to wipe his forehead, giving you a glimpse of his chiseled body. You’re glad you’re wearing shades because you can’t take your eyes off of him.

You clasp your hands together, your body rushing with heat as you remember what happened a few nights ago. How taut his body looked when you were on top of him. The way he breathed and moaned when you slowly sank onto him.

You force yourself to look away. Seeing him like that and knowing you can’t have him is only making things harder.

A couple of hours later, the relay race is underway on the north soccer field. You’re standing at the touchline on your own, stationed to hand out water and snacks to any campers or staff who need it.

Your stomach goes wild with butterflies when Zach makes his way towards you, offering you a charming grin as he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

“No way,” he says when he approaches, squinting, his voice low. “You got the easy job.“

“Rude. It’s actually way harder than it looks,” you reply.

“Standing there looking pretty is hard?”

“Very,” you say, his compliment making you a little lightheaded. You mirror him, perching your sunglasses up.

“I don’t believe it.”

Zach opens the cooler, not giving you a chance to get a drink for him. He collects a water bottle and unscrews the cap.

“You remember when you told me I can’t look at you a certain way when we’re at work?” you say, pushing the lid of the cooler shut.

He smirks, tipping his head back as he gulps down water. You’re gazing at him like that now, your stare hard on him. It’s addictive being on the receiving end of that look. It makes him feel like he’s floating.

“Yeah, and it still stands,” he nods. “So, stop it.”

“I’m not even…” you scoff, crossing your arms. “I have a rule for you, too. You can’t lift up your shirt when I’m around.”

“What? When did I do that?”

“By the lake. And I don’t appreciate it.”

“Why not?” he chuckles.

“Just stop,” you flirt with a roll of your eyes.

“I need a reason.” By the smug smirk on his face, you can tell he already knows. Because he’s so cute, you give in.

“It’s hard not to stare,” you say. “And we’re not supposed to stare at each other.”

The flattered look you’ve quickly grown to love flashes on his face.

“Oh, you mean when I get hot?” he teases. “I can’t control the sun.”

“Zach,” you warn. He says your name with the same teasing tone.

“I’m serious,” you say.

“So am I,” he laughs.

You shake your head at him when he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe the water off his lips. His eyes stay locked on your expression as yours drift down the cut of his abs.

Zach’s entire body buzzes when you look at him like that. He so deeply loves feeling wanted by you.

“You just don’t listen,” you mumble, taking your eyes off of him. He chuckles, letting his shirt fall back down.

“Come on, baby, it’s my fault it’s hot out?” he murmurs.

You can’t stifle your grin. Maybe he technically shouldn’t call you that if you’re pretending to be friends, but nobody can hear, and you love when he’s sweet like that.

“Everything’s your fault,” you say.

Zach winks at you before he turns to rush back to the game. It’s the type of silly banter that made you develop a crush on him so fast, and you’re glad you can at least flirt if you’re not going to sneak around anymore.

After the relay race, Tom reminds the campers that in a week and a half, you’ll be hitting the midpoint of the camp season, and as tradition goes, a staff soccer game will be held.

Even though it’s just a no-stakes match at camp to give the kids a fun chance to cheer on their counselors, you feel nerves twist in your stomach at the reminder.

Despite the fact that your love for soccer has slowly been finding its way back to you, your confidence still isn’t quite where you want it. And your instinct is to talk to Zach about it, to be comforted by the one person you’re trying to stay away from.

As you settle at your table for dinner that evening, you look for him in the crowd. He’s sitting at the head of his usual table, laughing in conversation. When he meets your eyes, you give him a smile. He returns it.

That evening after lights out, you’re lying in bed scrolling on your phone while Ami watches something on her laptop when you realize the nagging desire to see Zach is only getting harder to ignore.

You’ve also been considering telling him that your cabin-mate knows about him. It may just serve to worry him, but it feels wrong keeping something from him.

The way he looked on the hike when he said he missed you is stuck in your head. You miss him, too. As if you haven’t seen him in weeks.

It feels silly to keep your distance. You’re being too careful. You’re sure you can manage to hang out and keep your hands off of each other.

You hung out platonically before. Why can’t you do it again? There’s no rules against that. In fact, being friends is encouraged. You open your text conversation with Zach.

When Zach steps out of his cabin into the brisk air that night, he looks up at the sky to see he can hardly spot any stars. The air is thick with the threat of rain, but it’s stubborn, refusing to fall.

He heads out to the dock, sitting on the cool surface, his phone in his hand. Malcolm already fell asleep, so he decided to take his call outside to not wake him.

It’s never easy for him to be away from his family for very long. He appreciates checking in every so often, making sure his parents are doing okay, hearing how his sister’s summer is going.

As he catches up with them during the video call, at one point, his dad asks his mom where his glasses are and when she points off screen and his dad thanks her with a kiss to her temple, the simple, passing moment is a reminder to Zach of how loving his parents’ marriage is.

He grew up knowing that his mom and dad adore each other, that they believe they’re meant to be together. It’s fun to act grossed out by their affection, but in reality, he admires them. He’s never wanted to settle for less in a relationship.

Zach has always desired to be surrounded by love and approval. He’s sure his heart will never fully heal after his childhood, but when he knows he’s around people who like him, that wound feels much smaller.

And the way you accept him for everything that he is, never once looking at him with judgement, unconditionally offering compassion, gives him a sense of being complete, of that wound actually being gone. He hasn’t ever felt that before.

He looks out at the dark water, breathing slowly. He’s always thought of himself as an optimistic person, so it’s uncomfortable to be wallowing over his circumstances with you this much.

He forces himself to see the bright side. He may be facing weeks of not being able to be with you the way he wants to, but when the camp season wraps up and he goes back to his normal life, you won’t be living under any of these rules.

He’ll take you out on dates. He’ll hold your hand in public. And hopefully, you’ll still like him enough that he can introduce you to his family and officially be your boyfriend.

At that moment, his phone buzzes with a text. It’s you. havent worked on my defense in a while... do you have time to help a friend practice?

He grins, feeling the tension in his body dissipate.

You agree to meet on the field farthest from the staff cabins, positioned at the far edge of the campground. When you approach the pitch, Zach’s practicing kick-ups by the net under the bright moon.

“Show-off,” you say once you’re close enough. He looks up to see you, letting the ball roll away. His smile fades once he sees your bare arms under your t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asks.

“No.” His concern remains etched on his face, quickly unzipping his hoodie and stepping closer.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, unsuccessfully protesting as he drapes his hoodie over your shoulders.

“Now you are,” he says, looking down at you with a relieved smile. He leans down to leave a chaste kiss on your cheek, then quickly pulls back.

“Sorry,” he says. “Not allowed.”

You chuckle, looking around into the silent darkness surrounding you.

“I think we can get away with it here,” you tell him. “But I figured if anyone sees us, we’re just two coworkers innocently practicing for the game.”

“I ever tell you you’re a genius?” he asks, cocking his head, his eyes trailing down your face.

“Don’t think so,” you reply.

“Well, you are,” he says.

“Thanks, baby.”

“Okay, you can’t call me that and not expect to be kissed,” he murmurs, cupping your jaw with his cool palm. He leans down to kiss you, slow, his lips just barely parting.

“We still have to be careful,” you sigh amusedly when he pulls away. “Let’s practice.“

“Right,” he says. “As friends.”

“As friends.”

Zach smirks, rushing to get the ball as you stand in front of the net, stretching to warm up your legs.

“How was your day?” he asks once he stands a few feet across from you, gently kicking the ball to you. “Barely broke a sweat, huh?”

You trap the ball below your foot with a gasp.

“What’s that mean?”

“You’re still gonna pretend standing next to a cooler is hard?” he asks.

You laugh and kick the ball with unexpected force, watching him dramatically dodge it as it whirls past him.

“Whoa, you mad or something?” he laughs.

“I don’t need your attitude or your hoodie,” you tease, pulling the sleeves off.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he relents, laughing harder. “Please put it back on.”

You roll your eyes and comply, loving how soft his sweater feels on your skin, loving how much it smells like him.

“Just go get the ball,” you say in resignation, a smile pulling at your lips.

“Yes, ma’am,” Zach replies.

You watch him jog towards the center line, expertly dribbling the ball when he reaches it. He comes forward and stops a few feet away from you.

“Hey, I have something to tell you,” you say. The guilt weighs even heavier on you when you see the worry in his gaze.

“What?”

“Ami knows about us,” you confess. “She saw my hickeys the other day and I couldn’t think of a lie fast enough. She promised she wouldn’t tell anyone. I’m sorry.”

His heart aches when he hears the distress in your voice.

“You’re sorry?” he says. “I’m the one who left them.”

You breathe out a chuckle, tugging at the sleeves of his sweater over your knuckles.

“You can be upset with me,” you mumble. “I know you didn’t want anyone knowing.”

“I’m not upset,” he replies. “It’s okay.”

“Really?” you ask.

Truthfully, hearing that someone else knows about you two makes him tense. It increases the risk of being found out, of disappointing his family, of ruining his reputation. But he can’t bear to make you feel any worse.

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it,” Zach says, keen to push past the topic. He kicks the ball to you. “So, your day?”

“It was good,” you say. “The hike was nice. But thinking about the staff game made me nervous. I guess I’m still not all that confident yet.”

“And you came to the best for help,” he says. You kick the ball back, laughing softly.

“I did.”

“You’ll get into your stride again,” Zach tells you. “I wasn’t just trying to flatter you the first night. You’re a really good defender. Honest.”

“Thank you,” you say, stopping the ball when he kicks it to you again. This is exactly why you wanted to come to him. He consoles you so effortlessly, already making the nerves unravel. “How was your day?”

“Good,” he says. “I actually just got off the phone with my family when you texted.”

“How are they?”

“Falling apart without me,” he answers sarcastically. “My sister was saying my dad doesn’t do monster checks right.”

“I’m sorry, what’s a monster check?” you laugh.

“A check for monsters, obviously,” he replies. “I’m usually the one that scouts out Avery’s room before bed, but since I’m not home, my dad’s in charge. And his heart’s just not in it.”

“That is not something to slack on,” you play along.

“Right?” he says. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing a monster might’ve flown under the radar.”

You laugh again, touched by how sweet of a big brother he is. You kick the ball to him and start training together.

It’s been just under ten minutes of practice when you feel a cool raindrop on your cheek. Zach’s towering over you, your legs brushing as he tries to gain possession of the ball, when you freeze and look up.

“I just felt rain,” you say, gently panting. He takes the opportunity to gaze at you as you stare up at the night sky, the moonlight washing your pretty face in its glow.

You lower your gaze to meet his eyes, revelling in the feeling of him looking at you like that, like you’re the only girl that exists. It reminds you of the way he stared at you when you met, needing you to repeat yourself because he was too out of it to pay attention to your words.

“Zach,” you giggle. “It’s raining. We should go.”

In that moment, he feels a raindrop on his head.

“Oh. Yeah,” he says. He bends to pick up the soccer ball, dreading how long the walk back to the staff cabins is.

You rush off the field, letting him grab your hand, enveloped in the darkness of the night. Drops of rain start to hammer down within seconds, cold moisture covering your clothes.

“Shit,” Zach chuckles, running faster, pulling you forward. “We won’t make it.”

You’re both laughing breathlessly when you run into the closest storage shed, shutting the door behind you, clothes sticking to you.

When Zach stumbles over something in the dark with a grunt, you laugh even harder, asking him if he’s okay between your cackles.

“I could have broken something,” he says, pretending he’s insulted, “and you’re laughing.”

You feel for him in the dark, cupping his bare forearms as he stumbles over the disorganized supplies scattered on the floor.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, facing him, trying to make out his features in the dark.

“Why don’t people ever clean up?” Zach complains. “It’s a safety hazard.”

“For the third time, are you okay?” you say amusedly. Your hands feel up his arms, cupping his face as the rain loudly drums on the roof.

“Yes,” he finally murmurs. He wishes it wasn’t so dark so that he could see you, but if he turned on the light, it’d be too easy for someone to notice.

“Good,” you whisper. You gently stroke his cheeks with your thumbs, feeling a bit of stubble over his jaw, his skin cool from the night air as he leans into your touch.

“That feels nice.” His voice is low and rough beneath the sound of pouring rain. You smile to yourself, adjusting to the dark, seeing that he shut his eyes.

“Then I’ll keep doing it,” you respond.

“You looked good out there,” he murmurs. “I mean, you’re skilled. You don’t have anything to worry about. You’re a solid soccer player.”

“So, to clarify, my playing looked good, but I didn’t?”

Zach lets out a tsk, finding your waist.

“Cut it out,” he scoffs. “You know how pretty you are.”

“I do?”

“Come on,” he mumbles. “Don’t even pretend to say bad things about yourself.”

“Or what?” you ask.

“I’ll cry. Is that what you want?”

You giggle, loving how easily he makes you laugh, feeling like you’ll be falling victim to your own impulses. And fast.

Cool down. You said you’d cool down. But there’s nothing cool about his lips pressing against yours when you pull him closer.

It’s only been a few days since you had a moment totally alone together, but when he kisses you with abandon, it’s like your body is getting its first drop of water after being parched.

As your kisses grow hungrier, Zach’s body melts into pure contentment. It’s perfect how you fit into each other, how his mind goes completely blank when he holds you, letting him ease into the bliss of your touch.

Your lips brush and your tongues graze and your breaths catch as you kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as your palms press on his cheeks.

“We’re bad at this,” you whisper when your lips part. “We’re bad at staying away from each other.”

“I’m okay with that,” Zach rasps, pulling you in tight, his body curving into yours.

You’re in a fog as you continue to make out, surrounded by him, listening to your shallow breaths and the heavy rain.

Your knees are weak by the time you pull away from each other, the roar of rain now reduced to calm droplets.

“What now?” Zach breathes. He needs to know if he’s going to go through the agony of not sneaking around with you anymore.

Every inch of his skin tingles with warmth. He wishes he could just lie down with you, not because he needs anything sexual, but because he hates the thought of saying goodnight and parting ways.

“I don’t know,” you reply. “I don’t like not kissing you. But I don’t like getting fired, either.”

Despite himself, he smirks, dipping his head to pull you into a hug and bury his face in the crook of your neck. You drape your arms around his broad shoulders, shutting your eyes as he squeezes you.

Zach breathes you in, feeling safer than he ever has in his life.

“I’m really glad you texted me,” he mumbles.

“Me, too,” you say.

When you sneak back into your cabin, still wearing his sweater, the fear you felt of getting caught the whole walk over reminds you of why you suggested you cool things down in the first place.

If you’re found out, it’s over. You’re still not sure what to do, if you should keep trying to stay away from him or just continue meeting in secret. But you do know that whatever you decide, Zach will respect it.

The next morning, you wake up with a sore throat. You realize you caught a mild cold from last night. And being sick in the middle of the summer while working an exhausting job is not ideal.

You barely make it through the day, then have an overnight shift in one of the campers’ cabins. By the next day, you’re a bit better, mainly dealing with muscle soreness.

After dinner, Zach notices the faraway look in your eyes as you sit across the fire and talk with campers. You were together just two nights ago, kissing and laughing, but you haven’t had a chance to speak privately since. And something seems wrong.

He discreetly pulls out his phone to text you: Are you ok?

You feel the buzz in your pocket and when you read his text, you meet his eyes, melting at the concern in his gaze. In an effort to ease his worry, you speak a little louder to the kids around you.

“Nobody caught my cold, right?” you ask. They shake their heads no.

“You’re sick?” Zach asks from the other side of the pit, over the chatter.

“A little,” you reply, your nose scrunching. “But the worst of it is over.”

Zach’s heart aches, upset that you’re in pain and that he didn’t notice sooner. It’s from the night you got caught in the rain together. He’s sure of it.

When he knocks on your door after lights out, even though he’s still uneasy about your cabin-mate knowing about you two, at least he doesn’t have to worry about how to look like a concerned friend and nothing more.

You’re sitting in bed when Ami swings open the door. Zach is standing on your front step, cupping something in his hands, his eyes darting between her and you.

“Hey,” he says, looking at you. “Thought I’d drop off some tea.”

Ami looks back at you, a grin on her face.

“You brought her tea?” she says. “That’s so sweet.”

“It is sweet,” you say with a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Come in,” Ami says, stepping back. “You can hang out. I was about to go see what Malcolm’s up to anyway.”

“Really?” you ask, not buying it.

“He’s on an overnight,” Zach says.

“Is he? That’s crazy,” she says with a coy smile. She looks at you. “Text me.”

You know what she means; you need to let her know when she can come back since you and Zach might be in doing more than just hanging out.

Ami pulls a sweater over her pajama top and rushes out, leaving you and Zach alone in the cabin.

“Where’d you get tea?” you ask once the door shuts.

“From the office,” he says, crossing the room and setting the mug on your nightstand. He settles on the edge of your bed, inches away from you, gazing at you worryingly.

“I can get more if you need it,” he says. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re sick?”

“It’s really not that bad,” you tell him. “It’s just a headache now.“

He purses his lips, reaching forward to put the back of his hand on your forehead.

“I don’t think I have a fever,” you laugh.

“No other symptoms?”

“Just a sore throat yesterday, but it passed.”

“From being in the rain the other night?”

“That, and the stress of being scared we’ll get caught,” you laugh. He knows you’re joking, but his chest twists in pain. “Should I have told you?“

The question sets him aback for a moment, uncertainty rushing through him. You’ve been acting like you want a relationship, too, but maybe he’s being unrealistically hopeful.

Even though he’s been afraid to come on too strong, he needs to know, so he speaks before he can talk himself out of it.

“If I’m going to be your boyfriend, I need to know when you’re not feeling well,” Zach says.

You gaze at him for a silent few seconds. He’s unbelievably grateful when you lean forward and press your forehead into his chest, hugging him as best you can while you sit across from each other.

“It was just a little cold,” you mumble. “But I bet it would’ve been worse if my boyfriend didn’t make me wear his sweater.”

He cracks a smile, relieved, loving the way it sounds coming from you.

“Which you stole, by the way,” he says, making you laugh. He kisses the top of your head, then leans over to hand you the mug, steam curling from the top.

“Thank you,” you say. “How are you?”

You talk to each other about your days, swapping stories as you lean against the wall, taking slow sips.

“I’m cured,” you say once you’re done, setting the empty mug on the nightstand.

“Can I get you anything else?” he asks.

“Hugs,” you say, feeling desperate for his touch.

Zach grins, standing to let you comfortably lie down before he settles next to you. Your cheek is on his shoulder as he holds you in his arms, and when he lifts your chin to guide you into a kiss, you shake your head.

“You’ll get sick,” you warn.

“What? You said I cured you.” He pecks your lips gently, then shifts to kiss your forehead. “Where’s it hurt? Here?”

“Mhm,” you mumble.

“I don’t think it’s the cold,” he says. “Your head hurts because you think about me too much.”

You giggle, your hand trailing up and down his firm stomach.

“Oh, that must be it,” you say.

“I think about you too much, too.”

“You do?” You close your eyes as he continues to plant gentle kisses on your forehead. “What do you think about?”

“I mostly wonder when the next time I can be with you is,” he murmurs, “and how it can’t come fast enough.”

You stroke his chest, stopping to feel his heartbeat over the fabric of his shirt.

“Me, too,” you say. You trail back down his stomach and up again, arousal twisting in your core the more you feel him.

He sighs quietly. It’s unreal how just a minute of your touch does this to him. He’s already hard.

When you gently tug at his hip so he’ll turn on his side to face you, you feel him stiffen once his erection presses against your stomach, letting out a heavy exhale.

“I swear I didn’t come over to do this,” Zach murmurs, worried you’ll think he’d try to come by under false pretences just to hook up.

“I believe you,” you whisper against his neck, kissing softly, breathing in his scent.

Zach kisses the top of your head, cradling your jaw, revelling in the feeling of your affection, sure you can feel him growing even harder against you.

“I don’t know if – I mean, are we back to seeing each other?”

You shuffle back to meet his eyes, sympathy in your gaze.

“I’m sorry if I’ve been confusing,” you say. “I know I told you we should cool down just to make out with you like, two days later.”

“I’m not complaining,” Zach says with a soft chuckle. Maybe someone else would be frustrated, but everything about this summer has been unpredictable and he’s always been quick to adapt.

“I can’t decide what to do. I feel like you,” you tease.

“Hurtful,” he jokes, squinting.

“Remind me of how much time we have left before the season ends,” you say sadly.

“A month and three days.”

“It’s cute that you know the exact number.” The compliment makes his cheeks flush pink.

“Yeah, I’m pretty cute,” he replies. You laugh, your fingers dipping beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He bites his lip when he feels your skin against his, eyelids low.

“You’re very cute,” you say. “And very kind for coming to check on me.”

His heart is racing. You’re looking at him in that way he said you can’t look at him at work. It gets him all flustered, making him feel like you want him as bad as he wants you.

“And so sweet and so handsome,” you continue, your hand sliding up his back under his shirt. “And so good for me.”

“Baby,” he sighs happily, the praise making his head swim. “You know what that does to me.”

“That’s why I’m doing it,” you breathe. “One more night? Then, we cool down, for real?”

“But your head hurts.”

You shrug, admittedly still feeling tension in your temples.

“You made it better,” you say. He shifts lower to kiss you, gently sucking on your bottom lip, breathing heavily.

His thoughts are rushing like a current, the desire to make you feel good, to relax you in the best possible way burning deep inside him.

When he pulls back a bit, his lips brush against yours when he asks, “Can I kiss lower? Make you feel even better?”

You catch the weight of his words, the coil in you tightening even more.

“Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

“You never have to say please to me,” Zach says. “Not for that.”

You groan when he lowers to kiss your neck, down to your collarbones, over the swells of your breasts. He’s on his knees as he pulls up your shirt, trailing kisses up your stomach as he hungrily pulls down your pants.

You lift your hips to help him push them off, left in your panties in seconds.

Zach settles on his elbows, his eyes meeting yours as he rests with his head between your bent legs. He doesn’t take your eyes off of you as he puckers his lips against your inner thigh.

“You want this?” he murmurs.

“Yes,” you sigh happily.

“Me, too,” he says. “So bad.”

He kisses harder, surely going to leave a mark. His big hand drags over your knee, down your other thigh, resting at your pelvis.

His gaze refuses to leave yours, his lips still on your skin, when he lowers his hand to stroke his thumb over your middle. You moan softly, blinking slowly.

Like every other time he touches you, it feels like a dream. He can’t believe he gets to do this. The anticipation of knowing he’ll be tasting you soon makes his skin tingle.

Zach is agonizingly slow with his kisses, planting them all up one thigh, then moving to the other, then dipping to kiss right above where you need him most, over your underwear.

You lace your fingers in his messy hair, not pushing or pulling, just feeling his head move with every kiss, trying to be patient.

Finally, he puts his mouth over your core, kissing over the fabric, pulling a shudder out of you.

He can feel how wet you are, earning a taste of you, and it makes him ache with need. He looks up at you again as he gently pulls at the band of your panties.

Once you kick them off, his lips part in awe when you readjust to slightly spread your legs.

“Fuck,” he breathes. It’s almost nerve-racking, the way he’s staring at you. You’ve never been looked at like this. He gently pushes your knee down so he can see more of you.

“Fuck,” he says again, groaning through the word this time. He can’t wait any longer, lowering to press his lips against you. Your body rolls with pleasure when he makes contact, his lips warm and wet and soft, puckering against you.

Zach leaves countless kisses on you, angling his head so that he can give every part of you equal attention, licking his lips in between so that he can savor you.

You arch your back as he starts to languidly tongue you, letting out low moans and warm breaths. His nose presses against your groin, the sound of his wet kisses filling the room.

You run the heel of your palm over his head, caressing him, and he starts to suck your clit, his lips locked tightly.

“That feels so good,” you whisper. The way his mouth is working you sends waves of easy, soft satisfaction through you.

He threshes his tongue, gazing up at you as your face pinches in pleasure. You meet his eyes again, seeing how utterly intoxicated he looks to be doing something so intimate with you.

Zach pulls back, lips smacking off of you, panting now. He runs his hand up to your hip to find your hand and lace his fingers in yours.

“You taste so sweet,” he says, his tone thick with ecstasy, before leaning down again. It’s even better than he even imagined. You’re so slick and hot against his tongue. He could do this for hours.

You continue to run your fingers through his hair with one hand as you squeeze his fingers with the other, soft sighs spilling from your mouth. When you feel his tongue dip into you, you have to bite your bottom lip to quiet your moan.

His groans vibrate against you, guiding you into a state of pure solace. He pulls his hand away from yours to stroke his thumb in gentle circles over your clit as he tongues you. Every inch of your body tingles.

“Don’t stop,” you breathe. “That’s perfect.”

The praise spurs him on. His jaw is sore from how much his tongue is writhing inside you, but your pleasure is worth it.

The orgasm reaches you quickly, a million fireworks of ecstasy bursting through you, pushing you to quiver beneath him.

Zach kisses you as you come down from your high, shifting up to kiss your thigh, then your sternum, then finally your lips.

You meet his lips lazily and tenderly, tasting yourself on him. When you slowly trail your hand down his stomach to palm him over his sweats, he pulls back.

“No, baby,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you doing any work. Just rest tonight.”

He’s rock hard. You can tell how bad he needs the release. You want to do this for him, no matter how dazed you are. But you know he’ll feel guilty if he feels like you’re straining yourself.

“Then you do the work,” you whisper. “The condoms are in the bottom drawer.”

Zach sighs, kissing between your eyebrows, breaths shallow.

“I made you sore last time.”

“A good sore,” you breathily laugh.

“You’re sure?” he asks.

“I want you,” you say.

Your lids are low as Zach shifts to find a condom, pulling down his sweats and boxers, rolling it on carefully. His large frame leans over you, a flush coloring his cheeks as he looks down at you.

“I’m going slow,” he tells you.

“Whatever you want,” you say, and you mean it.

He holds himself at his base, slowly dipping himself into where his tongue was just minutes ago. His breath is strained as he sinks into you, wrapped in your soft heat.

He’s close to bottoming out, and stops, stroking your cheek.

“Still good?” he rasps.

“Yes,” you say. “Keep going.”

Zach sinks into you completely, taking a moment to savor how nice it is to be deep inside you again. His mouth is at the crook of your neck as he slowly starts to thrust back and forth, your bodies meeting with soft smacks.

The pressure of him is hard and perfect as your body rocks with his movements. You shut your eyes, swimming in bliss, breathing out short sighs into his ear as he rocks in and out.

He can’t believe how nicely you’re squeezing him, how perfect you feel, how lucky he is to be here right now. Your bed squeaks when he starts to move faster, his muscles tensing as you wrap your arms around him.

“Still okay?” Zach whispers.

“Yes,” you say. “Come for me.”

Your words are everything to him, the tender dominance he so deeply loves spinning him into a euphoric high. The way you make him feel makes the world stand still, makes him feel like perfection can exist.

He kisses you deeply, his stomach tautening as he comes. He continues to thrust slowly as he rides out the pleasure.

When he collapses, you kiss his cheek over and over, running your hand over the back of his head.

“Thank you,” he whispers. You smile weakly.

“Thank you,” you say.

Zach doesn’t let you stand up. After he gets dressed, he grabs a towel to help clean you up, gentle and slow. You’re still lying on your back when he sits at the end of your bed to pull your panties up over your ankles.

“You always gonna do that?” you tease quietly. “Put my clothes back on after?”

“Yes,” he says. He pulls them all the way up, then drags your pants up, too, before lying down next to you. You shuffle into the position you were in before, your cheek on his shoulder, his arms around you.

“My headache’s gone,” you tell him, “and I’m not just saying that.”

Zach’s chest gently bounces as he laughs.

“Good,” he says. He rubs up and down your arm. “Just tell me when I should go.”

“How’s never?” you ask. He smiles. His heart has never felt warmer.

“Doable,” he chuckles, kissing your forehead. “And… I’m with you. We’ll wait until the end of the season. I don’t want you stressed out, baby.”

“Okay,” you agree. It’s bittersweet and a month and three days have never felt so long, but you agree.

Eventually, you pull yourselves apart. You kiss Zach goodbye and text Ami that the coast is clear.

The next few days are a busy haze, full of stolen glances between you and Zach, and before you know it, it’s the midpoint of the season, the day of staff game.

It’s a scorching afternoon as you warm up on the pitch, eyes flitting to Zach as he jogs on the other side of the field.

Both teams were randomly assigned, and when you noticed that Zach was wearing a red vest over his t-shirt, not matching your blue one, you internally sighed.

You miss him. And if you were on the same team, at least you’d have a perfectly valid reason to talk with him right now.

The campers are seated under canopies on the touchline, already in a spirited cheer-off, rooting for the team their counselors are on.

Ruby blows the whistle to signal the start of the game. Your team keeps the ball on the other side of the field for the first little while, but remain goalless, until eventually, the red team starts to move in.

You’re focused, feeling more confident about your playing than you have in a while. You know you have Zach to thank. You hope you have the opportunity to tell him soon.

You’re quick on your feet as you watch the red team retain possession, the ball quickly spinning back and forth over the grass.

Finally, they make their move, with Zach leading. With slightly bent knees, you watch as he approaches the goal. You’re the only person left between him and your goalie.

He fakes left, but you call his bluff, stepping right to successfully kick it away. A chorus of groans sounds from the campers and some of his teammates.

“Oh, come on, Zach!” Malcolm shouts from the halfway line. “Obviously you want to go easy on your girl, but have some pride.”

“Chill, Malcolm,” Ami shouts back, laughing uneasily. You look back at your teammate, wondering if she broke her promise and told him about you. Or maybe Zach let him know at some point.

Or maybe Malcolm doesn’t know anything and you’re just reading into it. Your eyes dart to Zach as he jogs away. He looks back, his expression tense.

The game ends in a 0-0 draw, and Ruby decides it should come down to a penalty shootout just to end it with a bang. To your surprise, Zach misses, hitting the post. He looks rattled. Your team wins.

After lights out, you replay the moment on the field in your head, wondering how many people heard Malcolm. You want to question Ami about it, but you don’t get a chance to before she leaves for her overnight shift.

You step out into the humid night, figuring a walk will be a good way to clear your head. The anxiety eventually is too big to avoid, so you text Zach: everything alright? does Malcolm know?

As you pace past the camper cabins on your loop around the campground, you see that he replied. I asked him after the game. He knows. Ami told him.

You send a sigh up to the starry sky. She promised. Now not only is the secret out to two people, but considering that Malcolm is Zach’s best friend, maybe he was offended that Zach didn’t tell him, causing even more issues.

You text him: crap. sorry. do you want to talk about it?

You’re surprised and a little slighted to see him text back: It’s all good.

When you reach the staff area, you see Zach’s tall figure heading down the steps of his cabin.

Zach never thought he wouldn’t be glad to see you. But after the tense conversation he just had with Malcolm, he knows that the worry he’s harboring over the very real possibility that his aunt heard Malcolm’s words on the field today won’t make him good company.

He knows it’s not your fault. He willingly went into this with you. He pursued it. He left the marks on your body that exposed you. He should be mad at Malcolm for what he shouted today, and Malcolm only.

But he has a voice in the back of his mind pestering him, frustrated that you didn’t just hide it better and not tell Ami. And he feels like shit for being a little mad at you.

You already saw him. He’s not going to be a dick and ignore you. He’s going to pretend he’s fine.

“Hi,” you say softly, stopping in front of your cabin.

“Hey,” he says. “Out for a walk?”

“Are you mad at me?” you ask.

“What? No,” he says. “Why do you think that?”

“It feels like…” You hold up your phone. “I don’t know, this is the type of thing you’d want to talk about. But you just brushed me off.”

“I’m sorry,” he says. “We’re keeping our distance, right?”

You cross your arms, unable to shake the feeling that he’s not being totally honest. You know him well enough by now. Maybe he’s good at putting on a show for other people. But it’s not working on you.

“Zach, is this… is this what you talked about before?” you ask over the crickets chirping loudly around you. “When you said you don’t like to admit it when something’s bothering you?“

He looks down, his tongue jutting from under his cheek.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask again.

He’s silent. His mind is totally blank. He’s never been good at this. He hates that he can’t control how he feels. He feels like a bad person for being upset with someone so sweet who didn’t mean any harm.

“This just… it sucks,” Zach mumbles.

You nod slowly. It’s not a clear answer, but it’s enough. Your heart feels too heavy to force a conversation.

“Yeah,” you say. “It does.”

You turn to go up to your cabin. It hurts when he doesn’t stop you.

(part seven)

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[chleem]

Not a big deal pt2

miniseries; basketball player drew x high scl student reader

Summary: You lose your virginity to a random guy at a frat party miles away from your home. A few days later, you find out that he’s your brother’s competitor, for the regional colleges’ basketball tournament. 

Genre: strangers to lovers, smut, angst, fluff

Warnings: cursing, age gap (18 & 24), protected sex, etc.

⋆.˚ please dont copy my work, if inspired please tag me

⋆.˚ this is entirely fictional, if uncomfortable then don't read

♡⸝⸝ p1 | p3

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Can I have your number?”

A guy from the WCU team came up to you, while you were waiting for Luke. Your parents left due to a job emergency, and left you with your 'responsible' older brother. But currently, he was taking forever in the men’s locker room, and you were getting hit on by a guy from the WCU basketball team. 

He wasn’t ugly, but not handsome either. He was tall (duh) and…just, not your type. He said his name was Gus, and forced some small talk with you, which resulted in him asking for your number. 

“Um, sure,” you awkwardly smile, even though deep down you didn’t want to give it to him. When you reach for his phone, he purposely makes his hand brush against yours, which just gives you the ick. 

Huh. Let’s give him Luke’s number. That would be funny as fuck. 

You type in Luke’s number, giving him a smile as you hand it back to him. “Thanks,” he smiles, gross, and then texts something. “Did you receive it?”

You pretend to check your phone, and nod. “Yeah.”

“Great, um, then… I’ll text you,” he bites his lip, slipping his phone back in his pocket. Is it the end of this conversation? Please, let this be it. But of course, it isn’t. “We have a party, going on tonight.”

“Really?” You pretend to be intrigued. 

“Yeah, to celebrate the winning team. You should…you should come,” Gus invites. 

Oh shit. You really didn’t want to go, especially if you were going with this guy. Please, make something happen so you can reject this guy. 

And as if God heard your prayers, he sends an angel to your rescue. Just, not the angel you expected. 

The door of the men’s locker room opens, and both of you glance to see who it is. 

Drew. He comes out in a fresh set of clothes, wet hair, towel around his neck, and duffle bag hanging on his shoulders. Fuck. He looked soooo good. 

“So are you up for it?” Gus asks, turning to you. You literally had to force your eyes away from Drew. Plus, Gus says it loud enough for Drew to hear, who’s not even a meter away from you. 

You get ready to reject him, when Drew suddenly joins the conversation, wrapping an arm around Gus. Your eyes widen at his interruption, him smiling as he glances between the two of you. “Gus, who’s this you’ve got here?”

His blue eyes stare into yours; bringing you back to that night. 

His question lingers in the air, and he squeezes Gus’ shoulder to get an answer out of him. “Um, y/n. This is Drew, our captain.”

You didn’t know why, but you hoped that Drew would tell Gus that he knows who you are, and that you’ve met before. He doesn’t; instead, he says, “Nice to meet you,” followed by a wink. A wink that Gus doesn’t notice, too busy staring you down. 

Oh. Oh. You feel yourself get a degree hotter, physically. 

“What were you guys talking about?” Drew asks, glancing at Gus. 

“Um, just the party tonight. I’m asking y/n if she would like to come with me.”

Drew turns back to you, his eyebrows furrowed. Fuck. What did that expression mean? “It sounds very interesting,” you say, faking a smile at Gus. “But uh, I support the ECU,” you joke, pointing to the jersey you were wearing. 

The two guys' eyes scan your body, but only one of them really got to see what was underneath the jersey. “It’s open to the public,” Drew says, his eyes still lingering on your body. 

You bit down on your lip, trying to suppress your smile. Okay, so maybe he would like to see you at the party. “Where is it?”

“The hotel next to ECU, where we’re staying. Room…302, I believe?” Gus turns to Drew for confirmation, who just nods, forcing his eyes back to your face. 

You stare at Drew, who’s got a small smirk on now. “Open to the public,” he murmurs again, the smirk turning into a small smile now. 

God must hate you, because he sends the devil to your side during the crucial moments. The door to the locker room opens yet again, and when you glance at who it was, it was Luke. In fresh clothes, just gotten out the shower, and looking like he wanted to murder someone. 

His expression turns even meaner when he sees you with the WCU team members. He goes and stands closely beside you, his presence very pressuring. “What- what’s going on here?”

Fuck. Luke sounds like he wants to pick up a fight. You glance between Gus and Drew, who looks alarmed but confused at the same time. “Nothing; you took forever,” you tell your brother instead, hoping he can brush it off. “You should go get a cab.”

You push his shoulder to get him moving, but he doesn’t budge. He furrowed his eyebrows at you, before turning to Drew. Your brother wasn’t born yesterday; he knew they were hitting on you. “She’s a minor.”

Your brother always said that, whenever he found guys hitting on you. It scares them away, but you didn’t want Drew to be scared away. 

“I’m not,” you say firmly, trying to meet Drew’s eyes. “I’m 18 already.”

“Shit,” Gus comments, shocked. “I didn’t- I wouldn’t have hit on you if I knew you were so young-"

“So why are you still standing here?” Luke rudely comments. 

You just focused on Drew’s reaction; he’s looking elsewhere now, his other hand now scratching the side of his face. He’s definitely in shock, because you didn’t tell him that you were 18. But, what’s wrong with being 18? You’re a legal person now, so, was it that big of a deal? 

“Yeah, so sorry,” Gus apologizes, which doesn’t make you feel any better. You feel much worse. Wow, thanks a lot, Luke. 

You don’t miss how Drew’s eyes flicker over your body, while shock is still written on his face. 

“You should be. She’s still a kid,” Luke continues to say. “Didn’t know you were jerks off and on court.” Okay. Now your brother was just being petty about losing. 

“Could say the same about you,” Drew suddenly speaks up, his eyes turning to Luke. He stops scratching his face, biting on his lips now. 

Right. You’re suddenly reminded of Luke’s push at Drew towards the end of the game. Fuck. You wanna ask if he’s okay or not. You don’t even glance at Luke; he’s probably even more upset now.

“We gotta get going though, we’ve got stuff to do,” Drew adds, squeezing Gus’ shoulder again. 

“What stuff? Hitting on more minors?” Your brother gives them a nasty smirk, thinking his comment ate. 

“Actually, the local news are interviewing us,” Gus says, which comes out as a flex to your brother. “But, again, so sorry.”

“Yeah, we’ll, see you around,” Drew says, awkwardly glancing between the two of you. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment; and it was filled with shame and guilt. 

It doesn’t take an expert to analyze that look: he regrets sleeping with you. 

They walk outside the building, Drew taking his arm off Gus. Your eyes can’t help but follow them, watching their every move. You see Gus showing Drew something on his phone, and he grabs it out of his hand, examining it. Huh. What did he show Drew?

“They didn’t deserve to win,” your brother’s comment makes you pull your eyes away from them. Right, you’re reminded of this fucker that you’re unfortunately related to.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Is the first thing you say, genuinely pissed. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“What? Sorry for trying to protect you,” Luke says back, the anger in his voice matching yours. “Seriously, I don’t get enough credit for being a loving brother.”

“‘Loving brother’?” You laugh, as you walk towards the door, pushing it open. “No, you were just being a jerk. That was purely for your ego.”

“Ego my ass,” Luke follows behind you, the two of you walking side by side but not looking at each other. “You think I want to spend my time worrying about you?”

“Well, that’s exactly how you spend your time,” you angrily reply. 

“Can’t help it; I’m your brother, y/n. Nothing will change that,” Luke says. You roll your eyes, stopping at the cab sign, hoping a random cab will drive by. “But y/n, can you promise me one thing?”

“What?” You furrow your eyebrows, turning to your brother. 

His expression softens, and he lowers his voice. “Don’t- don’t get involved with the WCU guys, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Too late. “Why?” You ask, curious. 

“Imagine if I became friends with someone you hated a lot,” Luke says, and you imagine him with your classmate that you found annoying as fuck. Yeah, that image pisses you off. “Same goes for WCU. That…if I won, that would’ve been the turning point for me. But I didn’t. And I have every right to be upset.”

You stay silent, biting down on your lip. Shit. “Any guy, y/n. I wouldn’t care. Just, not them. Promise me that.”

How can you promise that when you’ve broken it in the first place?

A cab drives by, saving you from having to answer. “You got money?” You ask instead, holding your hand out to gesture the cab to stop. It stops, and you open the door. 

A small smile appears on his face, shaking his head lightly. “You owe me a lot,” he says, as you get in. 

“And you don’t complain, because you’re my ‘loving brother’,” you throw his words back at him, as he gets in the cab. 

He shakes his head again, before telling the driver the address to home.

Shit. This was awkward, you think. No involvement with WCU guys. Impossible, when you lost your virginity to one of them. And not just any one of them, the captain of their basketball team for god’s sake. 

——

How did you end up alone with Drew, in his hotel room?

Despite what your brother said, you still showed up at the WCU party. A very rude thing to do. But you figured, as long as no one from his team saw you here, it would be safe. For all he knows, you’re at the library studying. 

It went well at first; you showed up at the hotel room Gus told you, wandering around awkwardly. A few minutes and couple of drinks later, you bumped into Gus. He's definitely more flirty and pushy now, under the influence of alcohol.

It was Drew that saved you, butting in and forcing Gus to refill his drink. 

And now, you were in his hotel room, sitting at the foot of his bed. Drew leaned against his small kitchen sink, staring at the floor. This was more awkward than talking to Gus. 

You take the chance to look around; his washed clothes hanging by the window, unmade bed, messy dining table with his textbooks, and his luggage opened, some items just spread onto the floor. 

You play with your fingers, looking everywhere but Drew. Why did you agree to be alone with Drew, in his hotel room? It was weird, and very dangerous. 

It felt like time had stopped, until Drew spoke up. “So…you’re 18?”

“Yeah,” you nod awkwardly, your gaze turning to Drew. He bites down on his lip; looks of guilt written all over his face. You did not like that. “Been 18 for a very long time. So…”

Silence. Again. 

Drew seems to be in a spiral, trying to process everything. 

The silence was nerve-wracking; what was he thinking about? 

“Wait…” he starts, running a hand through his hair. He looks at you with furrowed brows, his eyes squinted slightly. “You…you’re…were you a virgin that night?”

Shit, shit, shit. 

“Tell me the truth, y/n,” he seriously says, scratching the corner of his mouth nervously. 

Something about his blue eyes make you want to surrender everything to him. You look away; focusing on the floor. “Yes,” you breathe out, “that was my first time.”

“Fuck,” Drew curses, and you glance at him. He’s clearly stressed, even starting to walk back and forth in front of you. “Fuck…I asked you that night. Why did you lie?”

“Would you have fucked me still?” You ask, sounding way bolder and rude that you expected. “Even if I told you-“

“I’m 24, y/n,” he interrupts. 

Drew’s 24? That’s…six years older than you. Oh wow.

But for some reason, you just can’t find yourself hating this age gap. It was one night, and both of you consented to it. So, was it that big of a deal?

“Do you wanna…sit?” You start, seeing how stressed Drew was. Drew hesitates; but eventually sits down on the spot you patted. You lick your lips nervously, glancing between his lap and yours. “Do you regret it?”

You ask; only because you need to get it off your chest. It was suffocating you; wondering it he regrets or hates that he slept with you. “No,” he answers almost instantly. You look up at his eyes, behind the stress, was softness and admiration in them. “I don’t. I enjoyed it, I…I enjoyed it.”

That makes you smile, and you shyly look down at your lap again. “Me too,” you whisper. And you can’t believe it, but you admit to him, “you set the standard high for me.”

That actually makes him laugh, and he covers his mouth in attempt to remain serious. You smile even wider, butterflies in your stomach that are proud you made him laugh. He shrugs, “Pretty easy when I have no competitors.”

You poke the side of his ribs, causing him in flinch in pain. You furrow your eyebrows, “are you okay?”

He rubs the part you poked, but shrugs, “just fell on my back today. Wasn’t bad.”

Oh. Luke pushed him. That must’ve hurt like hell, yet he’s acting careless. “You’re lying. Lemme see,” you reach for his shirt, and surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you. Instead, he leans down on the bed, tucking his arms behind his head. 

Woah. This angle of Drew, was crazy. You gulp, trying to ignore how hot he looked in his position and focus on examining his lower chest. You lift his shirt, and see some bruises that you didn’t see the last time, all over the side of his abs. Shit. “I’m gonna kill him,” you threaten, anger building up at Luke.

“Happens all the time,” he says, hooded eyes looking at you. “Really; this isn’t the worst that’s happened to me.”

“Hard to believe,” you look at him, your head slightly tilted. You couldn’t help but trace your hands on the outline of his abs; what a perfect body he has. 

“Broke my arm two years ago,” he says, and you gasp, to which he just nods. “Yeah, and the guy refused to pay for the bills. Really, your brother’s not the worst.”

“Did I tell you he’s my brother yet?” You suddenly rethink, wondering how he knows you’re related to Luke.

“You guys look identical. Almost thought you were twins.”

Very offended, you press on his bruise, causing him to flinch, hard. You giggle, putting your hands back in your lap. “Don’t say that, ever again.”

“Yes ma’am,” his eyes land on your lap. “Keep doing that.”

“Do what? Press on your bruise?”

“No; the thing you did earlier,” his voice suddenly drops lower.

You trace on his abs again, “this?”

“Yeah,” he says.  

The sudden urge to kiss him is strong. And the way Drew looks at you, he wants to kiss you too. 

“I want to kiss you,” he admits as well, a small smile on his lips. 

You kiss him lightly as a response, leaning onto his body. Drew seems to miss you, because he kisses you urgently and hungrily. One of his hand wraps around the back of your neck, flipping you over. Now, you were under him, the feel of his dangling necklace was against your throat.

You kiss him, trying your best to show him how much you’ve missed him as well. But, it seems like Drew was winning, with his boner pressing your lower stomach. You couldn’t help but laugh, and Drew pulls away from you with a confused expression. “What?”

“Awww, does kissing me turn you on?” You tease, feeling bold and confident with Drew on top of you. You run your hands through his hair, feeling how soft it is. 

“Insanely,” he admits, a small smile on his lips now. He returns to kissing you, before moving his lips down your neck. He sucks on the skin there, causing your back to arch in pleasure, your lips moaning his name. 

His hands slip under your dress, playing with the fabric of your underwear. But just as his hands get ready to slip in, he suddenly comes to a stop. He rubs your inner thigh, resting his head against your neck.

Then, he gets off of you, laying on the spot beside you.

What? You’re really confused, and you sit up, looking down at him. He’s covering his face with his hands, and you ask, “Why did you stop?”

“I… I don’t have a condom.”

Fuck.  

“Plus, this isn’t right.”

Excuse me? “What, what are you talking about?” You laugh nervously, wondering where he was going. His hands were still covering his face, so you had no idea if he really means anything he says. 

“You’re 18. This isn’t right.”

“Wow,” you scoff in disbelief.

You thought that when he kissed you again, it meant that he was okay with this. But he isn’t. In fact, he’s nowhere near okay with how young you were. Then why did he kiss you again? Why get hard at the simple act of kissing you? “Unbelievable,” you murmur, looking away from him. 

This age gap is a bigger deal to him than to you, it seems.

“I just…this isn’t right,” he says, coming out unclear since his hands are covering his face. 

You furrow your eyebrows even harder. Why won’t he look at you? Is it that shameful? Having involvement with you? “Why are you covering yourself?”

He doesn’t respond; so you admit, “now you’re making me sad by not even looking at me.” 

That makes him take his hands off his face, and you meet his blue eyes. He’s trying to not express it, but it’s really evident; Guilt. Guilt for wanting to sleep with you. “This isn’t right,” he repeats again, more softer this time.

You look away from him, biting down on your lip, “good to know.”

Drew sits up now, and he wraps his hand around yours. You quickly pull away; you feel disgusting now. Disgusted, by how he’s disgusted by you, by your age. You’re so stupid, thinking that Drew was going to want to sleep with you again.

Silence. Again. 

“I really like you,” he suddenly admits. 

“But you don’t want me,” you say, finding his sudden confession really stupid, not at all flattering to hear. 

“Don’t say that.”

“But that’s how you feel, isn't it?”

"No. Not even close," he murmurs, so low that if the room wasn't dead quiet now, you wouldn't catch it. “Do you like me too?” This question, he asks much louder, and you feel his stare burning down the side of your face.

“Does it matter? ‘This isn’t right’,” you throw his words back at him, which makes him lick his lips awkwardly, looking back down at his lap. Why can't he make up his mind? God knows you have, but what about Drew?

You roll your eyes, standing up.

“Where you going?”

“Leaving. I’m so stupid for even coming here in the first place.”

You look down at him, expecting some kind of reaction at least. But no. His eyes stay glued to his lap. And still no reaction, as you walk out his hotel room. He doesn’t follow you, call your name, nothing. He does nothing, nothing to try to stop you from leaving.

——

“Where’ve you been?”

No answer.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

No answer again.

“Y/n.”

Luke grabs onto your arm, stopping you from escaping to your room. 

You look up at his eyes, seeing the concern in them. 

And you don’t know why, but you cry. You cry, and Luke just brings you into his arms, hugging you. Being in his arms make you cry even harder, the tears flowing out like a waterfall. 

Luke doesn’t question it; simply just hugging you. 

You didn’t know that a boy from West Carolina would effect you this much. Affecting you physically and emotionally. Weird. 

Do you like me too? Yes, you think. I like you, even though I know nothing about you. I like you, even though you’re years older than me. I like you, even though I’ll never see you again. 

I like you, which is not a big deal. Not at all.

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

word count: 3.4k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: 😶‍🌫️ y'all prob hate me for this ending... BUT im open to making a third part ! imo, at the end of the day, drew will still feel weird for being with an 18 year old, despite being crazy attracted to her. idk, depends, would you guys want a third part, or is this a good end?

anyways, thanks for reading and enjoying the first part! flashing lights ch5 will be out this week <3

[mysunshinetemptress]

2014

Leah Williamson x reader

Warnings: Coming out,your first experience of jealousy

You can't pinpoint the moment you fell in love with Leah, you conclude that the feelings for your best friend's older sister have always been there just taking shape in different ways but now at the age of thirteen, you know you like Leah the same way Melia likes Chris because your heart beats faster every time you see her and your stomach feels like it drops and Ellie said that's how she feels about Tristan. 

You don't understand the importance of coming out to your family it happens one night at the dinner table as your older sisters talk about who they're going to marry you speak up from the end of the table "I'm going to marry Leah."

The clinking of forks against plates ceased. A stunned silence followed, thick enough to cut with a butter knife. You hadn't meant to blurt it out, but the conversation about future spouses, fueled by your two giggling older sisters, had gotten the better of you. Your cheeks burned hotter than the mashed potatoes swimming in gravy before you.

Melia was the first to recover. A mischievous glint appeared in her eyes. "Marry Leah, huh? How does Jacob feel about that!"

You stammered, "It's not like that! I just... I like Leah, the way you likes Chris and Ellie likes that Tristan boy." You blurted out Ellie's secret too, earning a glare from your other sister, but it didn't matter. The words were out.

The silence returned, this time a more thoughtful one. You stole a glance at your mum, who seemed to be studying you. You couldn't decipher the emotions swirling in her green eyes. your sisters, on the other hand, looked positively intrigued. Finally, your father cleared his throat, his voice kind.

"Honey, what do you mean by 'like Leah'?"

You took a deep breath. This was it. The moment you'd never prepared for. "It's... it's the same feeling you get when you really like someone. You get butterflies, your stomach does flips, and you just... want to be around them all the time." You blurted it all out, hoping they'd understand.

Your mother reached across the table and squeezed your hand. "And who makes you feel that way, sweetheart?"

You met her gaze, a mixture of fear and determination in your own eyes. "Leah."

The surprise lingered, but it was laced with a newfound understanding. Your father looked at your sisters, who finally met your gaze. A hint of a smile played on their lips.

"Well," your father said, his voice booming but gentle, "that's certainly something new. Leah, what do you say?"

All eyes are on you. The weight of the moment pressed down on you, but there was a flicker of hope in your chest. You'd confessed, and that was a victory in itself.

Your Mum took a deep breath. "Honestly? I had no idea you felt that way, Y/n," she admitted, her voice soft."Thirteen is a bit young to be talking about marriage, wouldn't you say?"

The night continues like normal and as the days, turn into weeks your sisters begin to ask about different girls you might have a crush on, yet your answer never changes "Leah." 

In the same year, you discover what love is and how Leah was the cause of it you also discover what heartbreak is and how Leah can also cause it.

You are kicking about the Williamson's back garden when you turn at the sound of Leah's laughter in the kitchen but your eyes catch her body pressed up against the counter a brunette boy leaning into her telling her things you can't hear but it must be funny with how loud she's laughing.

A jolt of jealousy shot through you like a lightning bolt. Laughter, the sound you associated with good times with Leah, now scratched at your heart. You couldn't hear what the brunette was saying, but the intimacy of their pose spoke volumes, that was how close Melia stood to Chris, Melia and Chris were dating now.

This was heartbreak, a new and unwelcome feeling. The butterflies in your stomach did a nosedive, replaced by a leaden weight. You wanted to turn and run, to hide in the familiar comfort of your room, but your feet felt glued to the spot.

Leah finally pulled away, a playful smile on her face as she brushed a stray strand of hair from her eyes. The brunette reached out, tucking it behind her ear, a gesture that felt far too intimate for your liking.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your shoulder. It was Jacob, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding in the kitchen window. An unknown look passed between you, Jacob didn't know about your feelings for his older sister, he didn't need to when you didn't understand your own feelings towards the older girl, but there was a silent understanding of the unfamiliar pain in your chest.

"Who's that?" you managed to croak, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jacob shook his head. "Never seen him before. New neighbor maybe?"

You watched, a silent observer to your own life, as Leah and the boy continued talking. He leaned in again, this time whispering something in her ear that made her cheeks flush red. Her laugh echoed through the kitchen once more, but this time it sounded foreign to your ears.

Anger bubbled alongside the heartbreak. You didn't have the right to be mad, not really. You hadn't confessed your feelings,  you wouldn't, out of fear that Leah would find it weird and Leah hadn't done anything wrong. But the possessiveness that comes with a budding crush reared its ugly head.

Just then, Leah turned towards the window, her eyes locking with yours. A flicker of surprise crossed her face before a warm smile spread across it. You couldn't decipher what it meant, but it was enough to break the spell that held you captive.

Taking a deep breath, you squared your shoulders. You might be heartbroken, but you wouldn't let it show. Not in front of Jacob, not in front of Leah.

"Race you to my house?" you challenged a playful grin back on your face.

Jacob's eyes widened. "You sure, Y/n?"

"Absolutely," you replied, your voice stronger than you felt. "Losers buy ice cream!"

With that, you took off towards your house, leaving a bewildered Jacob in your wake. You pumped your legs, the wind whipping through your hair, a desperate attempt to outrun the unfamiliar ache in your heart. You knew this was just the beginning. The beginning of navigating the messy, confusing world of crushes, heartbreak, and maybe, just maybe, someday, love with Leah.

That wouldn't be the first time you would have your heart broken by Leah, at the end of the year the brunette boy had been replaced by a brunette girl and for some strange reason this one hurts so much more, is it because it's a girl this time that Leah seems so enamoured with or is it their proximity on the couch during movie night, a night solely for you, Jacob and Leah only now theirs an intruder sitting in your seat. 

You spend the night staring at the pair as Leah wraps her arms around the girl pulling her closer, talking to her quietly.

As the end credits roll Jacob kicks your leg "Are you staying or you going home." You turn to look at the two older girls as Leah plays with the other girls' hair, you haven't cared to learn her name to caught up in the disgusting feelings you once again have "Yeah, can I stay." 

The resentment simmered beneath the surface like a forgotten pot on the stove. You mumbled goodnight to Leah and her friend, their intertwined forms a constant reminder of your own crush on the older girl. Back in Jacobs's room, tears welled in your eyes, blurring the image of Leah's smile in your mind. This year's heartbreak felt sharper, laced with a confusing pang of jealousy you hadn't experienced before.

Days bled into weeks, movie nights with Leah replaced by awkward silences as you tried to navigate the new dynamic. You plastered on a smile for Jacob, who shot you worried glances you pretended not to see. 

One day, while helping Jacob clean his room, you spotted a crumpled piece of paper tucked under his desk. Curiosity piqued, and you unfolded it. It was a drawing – of boxes that read tick here for yes and here for no. On top, a caption read: "Sarah I like you, will you go out with me."

A gasp escaped your lips. Jacob, the fearless, outspoken Jacob, had a crush too? Relief washed over you, warm and comforting. Maybe your feelings for Leah weren't so strange after all.

Mustering your courage, you approached Jacob after school. "Hey," you began hesitantly, "I saw that note in your room."

Jacobs's cheeks flushed crimson. "Oh! That? Uh, yeah, it's nothing."

You sat next to him on his bed. "Actually, it kind of is. You like Sarah, don't you?"

Jacob looked down at his shoes, kicking them against the wall. "Maybe. But it's stupid. What if she doesn't like me back?"

The memory of your own dinner table confession surfaced. Squeezing Jacobs's hand, you reassured him, "It's not stupid. You have to take a chance, I would if I could with Leah."

Jacob's eyes widened. "Wait, you like Leah?"

"Well, yeah," you confessed, the words tumbling out now that the dam had broken. "But it's complicated."

You poured out your heart, the confusion, the jealousy, the ever-present lump in your throat whenever Leah looked at her girlfriend. Jacob listened patiently, offering words of support and a shared secret that made the burden feel lighter.

The next few weeks were a whirlwind. Jacob confessed to Sarah, who, to your delight, reciprocated. You found solace in their budding relationship, a reminder that love, even unrequited, wasn't the end of the world. You started hanging out with the pair more, forging a deeper friendship built on shared experiences, both triumphant and heartbreaking.

One sunny afternoon, while practising your long kicks in the field behind your house, you stumbled upon Leah sitting by the wall, a familiar forlorn look on her face. Hesitantly, you approached. "Hey," you said softly.

Leah looked up, surprise flickering across her eyes before morphing into a hesitant smile. "Hey, Y/n. What are you doing here?"

You shrugged, sitting down beside her. "Just, practising."

A comfortable silence settled between you, broken only by the gurgling of the leaves. Finally, Leah spoke, her voice low. "We haven't hung out much lately."

You admitted, "Things have been... different."

Leah sighed. "Yeah, I know. I miss our movie nights."

"Me too," you confessed, then blurted out before you could overthink it, "Maybe we could have one again, just you and me?"

A flicker of hope ignited in Leah's eyes. "Really? But what about Jacob...?"

You shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. "It's okay. He has a date with Sarah."

Leah's smile mirrored yours. "Yeah, they do."

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the clearing, you and Leah settled in for a movie night, not quite the same as before, but different in a way that held a promise of something new. The ache in your heart had dulled, replaced by a quiet understanding and a newfound appreciation for the complexities of friendship, love, and the messy, beautiful journey of growing up. 

You could deal with the heartbreak that came with Leah if that meant you might get to love her fully eventually.

[cutielando]

jealousy | l.n.

synopsis: in which he's too jealous for his own good

my masterlist

Ever since the two of you started dating, you have had your fair share of strangers trying to hit on you when you went out, or when you attended races and they didn't know who your boyfriend was.

You never engaged any of them, always telling them who your boyfriend was straight away. Lando knew that.

However, he couldn't help the feeling that built up in the depth of his stomach whenever he saw another man glancing at you, let alone talking to you.

You were attractive, insanely beautiful and he knew how lucky he was that you only had eyes for him and he was aware of the fact that you would never cheat on him with anyone else.

But he just needed to let every single man who thought they had a chance with you that yu were his and only his forever.

Just like now, at the party you were at.

You had decided to dress in a tight-fitting mini dress which hugged your curves perfectly and made you even hotter than you already were in Lando's eyes.

However, once you got to the party, Lando quickly realized that he's not the only one who found your outfit hot.

So did other men.

"What's wrong, baby?" you asked him once you saw how stiff he had become, looking all around him constantly.

"Huh? Oh, nothing" he tried to give you a smile to shrug it off, but you could see right through it.

"Haven't you learned by now that it's no use trying to lie to me?" you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. "What's going on?"

"I don't like the way some of these men are looking at you" he said, his voice small.

Realization suddenly hit you and all you could was pout at him and smile a little.

"Are you jealous, baby?" you tried not to sound like you were teasing him as to not make him feel worse.

"Pf, no. I was just saying" he explained, all while his arms were tightening their hold on your waist.

"You know you don't have to worry about anything, love. You're the only one for me, I don't care about anyone else. I only love you" you declared and kissed him, feeling his shoulder untense gradually.

"I know, I know. I love you too" he said against your lips, suddenly feeling much more relaxed.

You secretly loved it when he got jealous, it would make you feel all warm inside knowing he loved you so much he hated it when other men even thought about having you.

Lando, not so much.

♡♡♡♡♡

The McLaren garage was buzzing with excitement and energy once again. You loved coming here when you could attend Lando's races.

The entire team loved you, you had a really close relationship with John, with the engineers and also with Zak. He saw you and Lando as practically his kids, loving the way Lando had been performing ever since you started dating and you could attend races.

However, there was also someone else that you got along with that Lando didn't particularly like.

Oscar.

Despite the fact that he knew Oscar had a girlfriend, he still couldn't help it when he saw you laughing at his jokes or talking to Oscar instead of him.

When he would be busy getting ready for a race or he would have a meeting with his engineers, you would hang out with Oscar most of the time or his girlfriend when she would accompany him.

One weekend, seeing as Oscar's girlfriend hadn't been able to come and Lando left you for a meeting with Zak, you figured passing the time talking to your boyfriend's teammate wouldn't hurt.

Big mistake.

"How are you settling in?" you asked the young aussie, knowing how big of a transition into the sport was.

"I'm okay, it's been an absolute dream. The team makes it easier, especially Lando, showing me the ropes and all that" he explained.

You nodded, glad that Lando was of help to the young driver.

"Want me to let you in on a secret?" you whispered, leaning closer to him.

He nodded, his eyes twinkling with anticipation.

"I think you might be his favorite teammate alongside Carlos" you whispered, and his eyes widened.

The fans loved the two of them, sometimes comparing them to a close second to Lando and Carlos, a pairing that will remain legendary.

Seeing as Lando had always been the junior driver and kind of the little brother, it was endearing to see him in the role of the senior driver and big brother to Oscar.

As you were laughing at something Oscar had said, Lando had finished his meeting with Zak and made his way back to where he had left you, seeing you laughing with his teammate.

He knew, deep down, that there was nothing more to it. But his feelings got the better of him in that moment and he couldn't help but feel a pressure in his chest, gnawing at his heart.

"What's going on?" he made his presence known by plopping down on the little couch next to you, immediately wrapping his arms around your waist and putting his head on your shoulder, glaring daggers at poor Oscar.

"Oscar was just keeping me company while you were in the meeting" you reached behind you and started running your hand through Lando's curls, knowing it was something that always calmed him down.

"And now I was just about to leave and look for Zak, so" Oscar said and excused himself, already knowing that if looks could kill, he would have been a dead man walking.

Lando glared at him as he walked away from them, sighing in relief once he was out of sight.

You turned around in your boyfriend's arms and chuckled, shaking your head as you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"Jealous much?" you asked, your tone teasing.

"Me? Pfff, I don't know what you're talking about" he was avoiding eye contact, which furthermore confirmed your suspicions.

"Babe, you have nothing to be jealous of. Oscar is just a friend, you know that" you weren't mad, not in the slightest.

You loved the idea of Lando caring so much about you that he would worry. However, you couldn't help but feel a little amused at times when this would happen.

"I know, but I can't help it sometimes" he shrugged, burying his head in the crook of your neck.

"You're too cute for your own good, Lando Norris, you know that" you giggled, his curls tickling your skin.

"I know, but you love me anyway" 

"I do, very much so"

He lifted his head from your neck and leaned in, capturing your lips with his.

Even though he got jealous from time to time, you wouldn't change it for the world.

You and your jealous boy.

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[biting-miguel-ohara]

Sex - Venom x ftm!Reader

A/N: Omg I love Venom so much. He’s so 🤤 Anyway, I hope this doesn’t read too rushed. I wrote half of it while out and about, lol. Let me know if I missed any warnings

Written for this request

Dividers by @/kodaswrld

CW: Venom uses it/its pronouns; scent kink?; there’s a fair bit of smelling the Reader in this; language; mentions of Eddie; mentions of sex as a bargaining chip; don’t read if you don’t like Venom’s tongue; Venom has a prehensile tongue; mentions of sex; wall sex; explicit sexual content; smut; ripping clothes; implied consent (?); Reader’s arousal is called slick; Reader’s parts are called dick and hole; enthusiastic consent; oral sex (Reader receiving); mild dirty talk (?); edging; fingering; implied multiple rounds; implied penetrative sex

1035 words

“Oh, Ven, fuck!” You yelp and squirm as it lifts you up like you weigh nothing. Its black arms holding you securely against the wall.

You wrap your legs around its waist, pulling it closer. “Hello to you too, big boy.”

Venom rumbles, nuzzling its face into your neck. ”We missed you.”

You shiver as its tongue comes out and slides against your neck. “Long day, huh?”

“The longest.” It breathes in your scent, a purr-like rumble starting in its chest. “Eddie made us do boring things.”

You chuckle, tracing your hands along Venom’s muscular shoulders. “Oh, I bet it was so boring. Were you good for him?”

Venom grins, its teeth pressing against your neck. “We didn’t come out even once.”

“Oh, good boy.” You press a kiss to its forehead. “You’re being so well-behaved recently. Any particular reason?”

Venom rumbles again. “Eddie promised us sex.”

You raise an eyebrow. “He what?”

It licks up your neck, tracing a sensitive spot with its tongue. You shiver, a noise catching in your throat.

“Eddie promised sex if we behaved,” Venom continues. “He said you’d be proud.”

You’re starting to see the picture. While you’re not proud of your boyfriend using the promise of sex to keep Venom in line, you can’t deny that there’s an appeal for you there.

Eddie’s been rather busy, too busy most nights for anything but a quickie. And while you’re definitely not complaining, you have missed being fucked.

And you’ve never really been opposed to adding Venom into the mix.

“Oh, did he?” You press a kiss to its cheek. “I’m guessing you want your reward now, huh?”

“Yes!” Venom presses closer to you, large hands sliding to your ass. Your face warms but you grin.

“Wanna do something Eddie can’t?” You know the offer is irresistible. If there’s one thing Venom loves more than chocolate and sex, it’s one-upping Eddie.

Venom’s eyes widen. “What?”

You lean in, lowering your voice to a dramatic whisper. “Eddie can’t lift me long enough to fuck me against this wall. But you know who can?”

“We can!”

You grin, nodding. “You can. So, what do you say, I go change and then we have sex, huh?”

Venom hums, eyeing you. “What if we just rip those pesky clothes off you instead?”

You pause. You really shouldn’t say yes… but the idea is quite tempting.

It seems to take your hesitation as a yes. With a growl, it slides a knee underneath you, holding you up as it grips your pants. It rips the fabric in two like paper, tearing it right down the seam.

It’s hotter than you’d expected, and you can feel the slick gathering against the crotch of your boxers. “Fuck, Ven. That was hot.”

Venom chuckles, low and deep. It shifts you, dipping down to nuzzle against your exposed boxers. You whimper at the friction against your dick, forcing yourself to keep your hips still.

“Ven, what are you—“

“Hush.” It snakes its tongue out, sliding the length of it up the crotch of your boxers. Smearing its saliva along the fabric.

You gasp, gripping onto its shoulders tightly. “Oh, fuck!”

“We can smell you,” Venom rumbles. “We want to taste you.”

There’s no way you can say no. Not when it’s pressing its face to you and breathing in like it can’t get enough of your scent.

You can feel yourself getting wetter, your slick pooling and soaking through the already damp fabric.

“Oh, god, Ven. Yes!”

Venom growls softly, shifting you so it can reach with one hand. With a single claw, it slices through the wet fabric, exposing your parts to the air.

The sudden rush of cold against you as you whimpering, clenching around nothing.

Venom groans, eyes glued to your slick parts. “Your body was made to be consumed. Putting out such delicious liquid for us to eat.”

Its tongue snakes out and swirls against your dick, making you cry out. You scrabble at its shoulders, panting as it rubs your dick so perfectly. The warmth of its tongue and the slipperiness of both saliva and slick just add to the sensation.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

The tip of Venom’s tongue teases your hole, just barely dipping inside. You moan and it lets out an answering rumble.

Slowly, it slides its tongue inside you, rubbing at your walls with the tip, searching for that spot inside you. You cry out as it finds it, pleasure spiking in your gut. “God, yes! Ven, right there!”

It teases you for a while, rubbing against your sweet spot, keeping you on the edge of orgasm until you’re begging for release.

Venom pulls its tongue out, and you almost sob from the loss. Your cry turns into a strangled gasp as two thick fingers are shoved into your hole. They’re bigger than you’ve ever had before, just the two barely fitting inside you.

You pant and moan as it fucks you with its fingers, curving them just so to send you crashing over the edge. You cum with a gasp of his name, drenching his fingers in slick.

Venom pulls you to its chest, keeping its fingers inside you. You whine a little, wrapping your arms and legs around it. “We’re done already…?”

Venom chuckles, the sound low and deep and vicious. “No. We’re just getting started.”

It carries you to the bedroom, setting you down on the bed. A third finger nudges at your hole, making you whimper. “What…?”

Venom looms over you, teeth gleaming in the low light. “We want sex. We’ve got to stretch you out for us. Make you all nice and loose for us.”

You clench around his fingers at the thought. He’s so big, you can barely imagine how large the rest of him must be. No wonder he’s trying to stuff you full. You don’t even know if you’ll be able to take him.

Venom smirks at your look, eyeing you hungrily. “We’ll make it fit. No matter how long it takes. Eddie wants it, and we want it too.”

You just moan and nod. You can tell it’s going to be a long night, and you are so looking forward to it.

[moonstruckme]

Hii!! I had an idea for soft!eddie x reader… I hope you like it!

So what about soft!eddie x reader that watch a horror movie before bed because Eddie wanted to and reader said yes… but then reader wakes up from a nightmare and gets a little bit paranoid? Like she wants to go get a glass of water, but she’s so scared that she’ll see a creepy face appear out of no where? Or she doesn’t want to look at the windows and that kind of stuff? (When I wake up in the middle of the night, I get so paranoid/scared, I wish Eddie was there 😭) and she finally gets up to get a glass of water and then (in between all of that Eddie woke up) Eddie says something like ‘why are you awake at 2am’ and she has a jump scare, and drops her glass, and basically the adrenaline kicks in and she starts to cry because it’s too much and she was so scared? And Eddie just hugs her and comforts her and he helps her falls back asleep?

I hope all of that made sense… if not… I’m so sorry😭😭

I’m sending lots of love!! Have a good day/night!! 💗💗🫶

- ☀️

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Eddie Munson x fem!reader ♡ 750 words

It’s a while before you can convince yourself to set one foot on the floor, but the inside of your mouth feels like it’s made of wool and something needs to be done about this. When no clawed hand reaches out to yank you underneath the bed, you take it as a sign of good faith. 

Your footsteps are featherlight and cautious, every dark corner and unshuttered window a threat. An empty threat, you remind yourself, but even the voice in your head is shaky. 

The Munsons don’t have glasses, but they do have an array of things picked up from here and there, plastic cups from restaurants and old containers and one plain mug for Wayne’s coffee. You grab a cleaned-out jam jar from the top shelf, filling it with cold water from the tap. It does the trick, sweet and refreshing on your tongue. You feel instantly better. 

You pad back towards Eddie’s room with a clearer head. It was just a movie. There’s no creeping shadows here, no cloud so thick it blots out the moon. There’s fluorescent light from the street coming in through Eddie’s windows, and families sleeping in the trailers on either side of you. Nothing bad could happen to you here. 

You slow as you get to Eddie’s room, trying to be quiet. 

“Hey.” 

Your gasp is so sharp it hurts a little in your chest. Your body stiffens, the condensation on the glass making it slip from your hand. It shatters on the floor. 

“Shit, what the hell?” 

You turn, and it’s Eddie—of course it’s Eddie, who else would it be?—standing behind you in the dark hallway, a pillow crease imprinted on his cheek. 

“Oh my god.” Your voice comes out breathless, and you press your hands over your eyes. 

“Babe, what—shit, are you crying? Are you hurt?” You shake your head, and Eddie’s hands come around your arms, pulling you towards him. “Careful, don’t step on the glass. I scared you, huh?” 

You nod as he folds you into his chest, scrubbing up and down between your shoulder blades. 

“Yeah? Well fuck, don’t to cry about that,” he says, panic melding back into sleepiness as his voice takes on a fond bent. “I wouldn’t’a hurt ya.” 

“I thought you were the ghost,” you mumble sheepishly into his chest. 

Eddie pauses for a moment. Your face feels ten degrees hotter. 

“Me?” He sounds like he’s smiling. Then he lets go of you, taking your face between his hands, and you know he is. It’s giant and goofy, its own sort of light to combat the dark corners. “Shit, sweetheart, I’m flattered. But no dice.” Eddie shrugs like this is something he can’t help. “All flesh and blood in here, baby. The gross stuff.” 

“Yeah,” you say quietly, embarrassed. Those couple of quick tears have already mostly dried, but Eddie swipes at them with his thumbs anyway, grinning like you’re silly. “I’m sorry I broke your glass.” 

“It happens all the time,” he reassures you. “Don’t sweat it, I’ll clean it up in the morning.” He takes a big step over the glass shards, offering you a hand to help you do the same. Doesn’t let go of it even when you’re on the other side. “Should I be worried that you’re up at 2 in the morning looking for ghosts?” 

“I was getting water,” you mumble, letting him sit you down on the edge of the bed. Eddie gives you a look. “I also don’t really do well with scary movies.” 

“Yeah. I figured that one out when you wouldn’t go to sleep until I closed the blinds.” He grins. You smile back bashfully, and he makes a dramatic groaning sound, hauling you into a hug. “You should’a told me you didn’t want to watch it. I wouldn’t have picked it if I’d known you’d get all freaked.” 

“I didn’t want to be a wuss,” you say. You can practically feel Eddie rolling his eyes over the top of your head. 

“You can’t fight your true nature, babe. But it’s cool.” He flops the both of you over so you’re laying down between him and the wall. “This way, anything that wants to get you will have to go through me.” 

You turn in his arms, pouting. “I don’t want anything to have to go through you.” 

“Then let's go back to there are no ghosts, ‘kay?” He plants a kiss between your brows, snuggling you close. “Sleep tight, scaredy cat.” 

[takusan-no-ai]

The place I’ve come to call “home”

PAIRING: Eula x Male Reader (Romantic) (Fluff)

SUMMARY: (Y/N) is Eula’s childhood friend, and her future true love.

“WRONG! Dear friend should only be used to address those the speaker are acquainted with and not particularly close!“ an older man yelled, swatting at Eula’s hands with a wooden stick. “What do you say to someone you are close to?!” He slammed his fists on her desk, glaring into her eyes. She looked down, too scared to answer. “You either know this or not Eula!”

The final straw, and she began to cry an ocean of tears. The man huffed in annoyance. “Class dismissed.” He left the room, clicking his tongue in frustration.

Finally alone, Eula wiped away her tears, still shaking violently. A small tap on the window brought her back to reality. “Huh?” She questioned, beckoned forward by the small pebbles tip tapping the window. She opened the window, only for a pebble to bonk her on the nose. “Ow!”

“Shoot! Are ya okay up there princess? You’s shoulda known better than to make yerself a target!” An arrogant young boy said. Eula could feel her face growing hotter in anger. She climbed out the window and shoved the boy lightly.

“Hmph! (Y/N), For such an act of defiance, I shall have vengeance!” She said proudly. (Y/N) just laughed at her words, patting her on the head with a toothy grin.

“Ya say that, but you’re really just lookin’ for an excuse to see more of yours truly.” Eula huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Lotsa huffing over there—ya a wolf or somethin’?” He teased.

This uncouth boy was none other than Eula’s one true friend. Her confidant, and someone who she could be herself with. A secret friendship hidden within the backyard of the Lawrence Clan. Whenever the noble life got too stressful, there he was. Waiting for her outside her window.

Sadly, like every day, their hangouts are cut short. Eula crawls back through the window and returns to her next lesson. Dancing practice began early in the day and ended late at night. Her feet sore, and her stomach growling loudly didn’t help ease her nerves. Add the cherry on top, her dinner contained disgusting overly flavored broth. She almost slept hungry that night.

This time, (Y/N) crawled through her window, a small box in hand. It was lights out, and nobody would hear the giggles of two kids eating sandwiches as they went back and forth with joyous banter.

“I have this one dance I really liked today though,” Eula reminisced her lesson with (Y/N), who yawned, eyelids fighting to stay open.

“Cool. Show me some moves! Or else I’ll hafta keep tellin’ folks that you’ve got two left feet.” He mumbled, head rocking back and forth. Eula blinked in confusion before standing up. She grabbed (Y/N) and guided him towards her bed tucking him in with herself.

“Good night (Y/N)…”

“…Good…night…princess,” they cuddled together and fell fast asleep. With (Y/N) almost drooling in his sleep, and Eula blushing in hers.

This was just one of many memories that Eula holds dear. And through the years, those continued interactions helped shaped her into who she was today: the Lawrence Clan’s worst nightmare. Older, she now refused to attend lessons, and even sought to openly interacting with “commoners”; if they had the patience to speak to her, that is.

And when she came to the decision of leaving her household for good, she asked him to come with her. “Oh geez. Ya always hafta pull at my heartstrings princess? How could I ever say no to such a cute face?” She pinched him on the arm, blushing from his constant teasing.

Since Eula was a Lawrence it mean’t no one would allow her to buy from their shops. Even (Y/N) was outcasted by association, but he didn’t care. Him and Eula had been together through thick and thin, and he never had much social standing to begin with. A small inconvenience like that didn’t bother him anyway. Eula resorted to hunting and cooking food over a campfire for the both of them.

Eventually others saw her capabilities, Jean the most, who recruited Eula to be a Knight of Favonius. Through sheer effort, she slowly began to gain a more positive reputation with the citizens of Mondstadt. It came at the cost of being labeled a traitor by her family, but it was a necessary sacrifice for a brighter future. One with him.

She invited him to meet on the mountain top further out of Mondstadt City. “Remember this place?” She asked him.

He scratched the back of his neck, looking for an answer. “Oh! We first met here! Right?” He answered enthusiastically, a dopey grin on his face. Eula frowned and crossed her arms, looking away angrily.

“Forgetting such a special date. I will—”

“Have vengeance right? So what place is this?” He cut her off, which led to her steaming even more. Coughing into her hand, she finally made eye contact with (Y/N).

A bright blush littered across her entire face. And her eyes held a soft gaze as she caressed his cheek. (Y/N) began blushing now, finally remembering what this place meant to her.

“This is where I confessed my love to you.” Guiding his hands to her hips, she placed hers on his shoulders, and began to dance with him. “Years ago I told you I had learned my new favorite dance: The Dance of Sacrifice. In some far away place it might’ve been the only thing to bring me comfort. But now, I have you.”

(Y/N) held a small smile, moving closer to Eula. They shared a kiss under the moonlight.

“Marry me.” She asked.

- Fin

[tulippanes]

𝐍𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐘 𝐃𝐎𝐆

iii. — hey. again. I guess?

warnings: very very SLIGHT suggestiveness

prev ➥ m.list ➥ next

Hajime fidgets with his phone outside the gym while waiting for Issei. He sighs and glances towards the gym's door occasionally. What the hell is taking him so long? Is the line to the bathroom that long or something? He was about to head back inside to go looking for him, until a familiar voice fills the air.

"Oh! Hey!" He doesn't want to look back. Frozen in place, his pulse quickens and he gulps. The courage to look behind him is finally found, and the girl that he helped yesterday comes into his view. The exact same girl that he found himself being embarrassed in front of. He had no reason to be so stiff yesterday and just thinking about it makes him want to dig himself in a hole.

Not that he's acting any better today, either.

He fully turns to face her and he looks down to see she's holding three dogs by the leash, one of then being the corgi he caught. Seems it recognizes him since it barks which causes the two other dogs to bark as well. He shoves his phone in his pocket. "What– Hey no," she scolds and they eventually quiet down. Once she approached him, she awkwardly laughs.

"Sorry 'bout that.. You're the one who caught Hank, right? Sorry about that too. Thank you again. I really appreciate it."

"..Hank?"

"Oh! The corgi. His name's Hank," she says and motions towards said dog who was looking up at him and wagging its tail. Hajime leans down and reaches to pat him, the dog licking his hand in the process. A small smile graces his lips.

He stands back up, "Do you walk them often?"

"Yeah! It's essential!"

"Really?"

"Actually I don't know.." He snorts but quickly covers it up with a cough.

"Were you just coming back from the gym? You mentioned something yesterday that you run in your free time too, right?"

He nods and nervously scratches the back of his neck. His phone vibrates in his pocket, the group chat probably. They always text him at the worst times. "Yeah, I do," he says

"That means you must be super athletic, huh? No wonder you have a really good body!" Hajime splutters at her comment. He had to have been hearing things. There's absolutely no other way. His cheeks grow hotter with each passing second. He's blushing. He's actually fucking blushing. Well, who wouldn't with someone making a compliment like that.

He starts stuttering like a complete idiot, "Uh– Huh? Yeah– Yeah, I guess you can say that..." He wants to bang his head against the wall. No, he needs to. He needs to bang his head against the wall. A really good body? She really shouldn't say things like that. People might get the wrong idea. Hell, he's the one getting the wrong idea.

"Usually my coworkers and I have to run around for a while until Hank tires out or something when he runs away like that," she says as she looks down at the corgi who was sitting, the other two dogs laying on the ground.

"He must do that often then."

"You can't even imagine how many times he's done it," she huffs. When she looks back at him, he tenses up under her gaze. He stares into her eyes for a moment. Were they always so nice to look into?

She speaks up after a second of silence, "Y'know, I was wondering if—"

"Yo." Hajime sighs in annoyance and looks over his shoulder to see Issei walking up to them. He glares at him to which the male reciprocates with a smirk.

"Oh uhm, never mind. I should get going. It was really nice seeing you again," she says. She gives him a smile before walking past him to continue walking the dogs.

Issei watches the girl walk past and turns to Hajime. He looks him up and down, earning a raised eye brow. "Ooh. I see, I see," he says while slowly nodding.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Hajime hisses in response.

"Interesting..." Issei grins.

"You can go get lunch yourself," Hajime scoffs. He walks off and his friend is quick to fall into step beside him.

"What? Mad I interrupted your alone time?" Issei wiggles his eyebrows and Hajime lets out a sarcastic laugh.

"Ha! Funny." Funny, he says even if Issei wasn't exactly wrong. He is a little salty that he interrupted before she could've finished her question. Ugh, now Hajime was really curious on what she was going to say. It's going to be bugging him all day.

In all honesty, Hajime wasn't expecting to bump into her again. Yesterday and the day before that were just one time things. That's all there is to it. Okay sure, somehow he bumped into her two days in a row but a third day would be ridiculous. Ridiculous because it'd get his hopes up. His hopes up for what? He... Didn't know yet.

"It's you again!" Luck never seems to be on his side. Or maybe it is. Maybe he's secretly hoping to bump into her again and again.

He was leaving his gym just as always, before running into her. Just like he did yesterday. He slowly nods, "Yeah," he breathes out. She's walking the same three dogs as the previous day. The two exchange small talk before parting ways. That was it. That would be the last time he'd see her.

But then he saw her on Sunday.

Hajime wasn't complaining. Perhaps he didn't want to jinx himself. Seeing her three times in a row after meeting her for the first time ever on Thursday? Is this what fate is? No, he doesn't believe in that stuff. Hajime Iwaizumi isn't becoming some lovesick puppy over someone he just met. He could never.

Yet this time he's the first to greet her. "Hey," he says casually—tries to—and he almost melts into a puddle at the big grin she gives him.

Okay. There's a first for everything anyway.

"Do you wanna walk with me? If you have time, that is. It gets a little boring walking alone even with three pups walking with you," she says. Definitely a first for everything. He's quick to agree, a little too quick at that.

It's insanely awkward the first couple minutes. Walking side by side with her in a small neighborhood nearby, alone. They're alone. No one but them. Two strangers casually walking together. Did he mention that they're alone?

"It's a little funny isn't it? I've ran into you three times in a row since we've first met!"

Ah, she noticed too. Of course she did. There would be absolutely no way she wouldn't have.

"Oh uh. Yeah, it is," he mumbles. He's being stiff again.

"Do you– Do you always walk this way?" he asks and glances over at her before looking down at the dogs that were walking side by side. They're calm, even that little corgi. What was its name? Hank. Right. If they're that calm, she must be good with dogs.

She hums for a moment. "No. Walking through this neighborhood is just a slightly shorter way to take the dogs through, but just enough to keep them active. We usually take them to a park around here."

"The one a couple blocks away?"

"Yeah, that one!"

There was a moment of silence after, with Hajime lamely stealing glances at her. Keeping his eyes off her was hard.

"Shorter way, you said?" Right when he turns to look at her, she turns to look at him at the same time. He instinctively whips his head to face forward at the path ahead. The sensation of her eyes on him makes his skin crawl with goosebumps before she tears her gaze away.

"Yeah, Hank's been leaving earlier for the last two days. No idea why though. Yui–Ah. Er, my supervisor doesn't really disclose me with that type of info."

 He guesses she must be close to her supervisor, since their name slipped by her on accident. He's almost jealous.

..What?

He quickly shakes those thoughts away. Spending a minute longer with her is seriously making him go crazy. He suddenly remembers about how she was going to ask him something before Issei interrupted. "The day before yesterday.. Were you gonna say something? Before my friend kind of cut you off?" he asks. He turns to look at her, this time he doesn't look away. He's close to her, not that close, but close enough that he'd be able to reach for one of her hands if he wanted to. That is if they weren't both occupied by the dogs' leashes. Not that he wanted to do that. That'd be creepy.

She thinks for a moment and it looks like it clicked to her. "Yes, this," she says. He blinks, confused.

"...This?"

"Walking with you! I was going to ask if you wanted to walk together like right now. Mostly to apologize and thank you some more for catching Hank," she chirps.

She was going to ask him to walk with her, which means he could've walked with her that day Issei went with him to the gym. Which also means he more than likely could've walked with her yesterday too. Which also means he could've been walking with her two days in a row, today included.

Suddenly his mood is soured and he thinks he shouldn't have let Issei join him the other day. Damn bastard.

"So... Thank you again for grabbing him. I really do appreciate it. I'm really sorry too. Have I said that before?"

"Maybe once or twice, don't remember," he states sarcastically before he can even stop himself. When she laughs he bites back a smile. The sense of pride welling up inside him is almost sickening.

It's a quiet walk the rest of the way, obviously. There's not much two strangers could really talk about at first. It's comfortable, though. Once rounding back towards the gym she speaks, "You should get going, no? I don't want to take up too much of your time." He wants to say he doesn't mind, because he doesn't, but that may possibly weird her out.

"I guess I should. See you—" He cuts himself off. He's acting like he'll see her again. If he doesn't, what then? He can see her head tilting to the side slightly, a reassuring smile on her face.

"Mhm, see you!"

He's watching her leave, like that day they first met and parted ways. The corgi yips at him and she has to tug at its leash before the dog turns back around. There's a giddy feeling that lingers and he purses his lips. He guesses he can kind of keep his hopes up to see her another time. Only a little.

𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐏𝐒:

• Hajime was extremely salty Issei interrupted, told him off while they were having lunch

• Personally Hajime seems the type to somewhat spoil his friends and acts like he hates doing so

• Only when Takahiro and Issei @ Tooru/Hajime is when they get hit tweets

• Everyone in the bone zone loves each other vv much

• Issei won't be joining Hajime at the gym for a hot min

• Soft Hajime but reluctant to be soft??????

a/n hi... i'm a lil late to upload but is this chapter long enough it feels short omg ALSO do u guys prefer 3rd person povs of 2nd person,,,,,, i prob should've asked that 1st chapter but it's okay anyway next chpt may be out tmr??? if not the day after!!! if there's any mistakes i'll embarrass myself in the morning ok bye

tags

@akaashislovee @shookykookie30 @wyrcan @darling-eos @pelicanpizza @bakugouswh0r3 @mawenskiblue @phoenix-eclipses @s777athv @jtaimeurmom @blueballslock @zazathezaer @strawberry-sanzu @oneiratxxia10 @tsukiesimp @yessimo @ghostreader0307 @nifflermini @mochroialainn @bunninio @honeyynuttsss @purple-snowfox @weezerbby @aumarias @madiexuberant @ikisswonbin @thiisisntlovely @idkanymorebuthere

p.s. those in blue couldn't be tagged😞😞

[anonymityisfunwriter]

bad idea right?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: It's a bad idea. He's a bad idea. A walking red flag - if your friends are right about him. It's really too bad red was always your favorite color.

bad idea right? | get him back! | love is embarrassing

"This is an intervention."

You sputter, almost choking on your wine, "What?"

Nat crosses her arms, her eyes boring into you as she speaks, "A Bucky Barnes intervention."

"What are you talking about?" you hedge.

"You've been seeing him again." It's not a question, but a statement of fact. You don't know how exactly she found out, but you don't doubt that somehow she knows everything. You've been caught red handed. 

You had two choices here. Come clean to your two best friends. Or lie through your teeth. You choose the second. "No, I-"

"You left your location on," Wanda explains, stopping you before you try to lie your way out of this conversation. "You were at his apartment two nights ago. You didn't leave until the next morning."

You hold your head in your hand, still curled up on the couch, "Can't two people reconnect?"

"He's your ex for a reason."

You knew that. You knew that there was a reason you and Bucky broke up all those months ago.

And you certainly didn't plan on getting involved with him again. It just sort of happened.

If you thought about it, really, you were blameless.

You hadn't heard from him since you broke up three months ago.

Three weeks ago, you found yourself out and drunk.

Calling him was just a drunken accident.

Bucky coming to pick you up and take you back home was not at all your plan.

Leaving your bag in his car was just a funny coincidence.

How else were you supposed to get your things unless you saw him the very next day?

And was it your fault that he invited you inside to catch up? No, of course not, you were just being polite! 

Really, who could blame you? It just happened.

"I only see him as a friend." It's definitely the biggest lie you've ever told your friends.

"So you just tripped and fell into his bed?"

Your jaw drops as your cheeks flame, "It's not like that!"

"Well, clearly you think you're doing something wrong when you're lying to us about seeing him," Nat accuses.

"I haven't lied to you guys about anything!"

"So two weeks ago you didn't lie to us when you were actually with him?"

"I never lied. I told you I was asleep." You just never said where. Or in whose sheets. "Alright, fine, I might have omitted, but that's just because I know how you guys feel about him."

"Because you could do so much better!"

You shrug, knowing Wanda is probably right. You could find someone so much better for you. Someone who you probably wouldn't have to sneak around with. Someone you hadn't already broken up with, but something about Bucky Barnes makes your brain a little fuzzy. You can't think straight when you think about him. And you most certainly can't be trusted around him. 

Even now, just thinking about him, you're spiraling back to a place where a bad idea turns into the best one you've ever had. 

You know've probably seen much hotter men, but then you think back to two nights ago, and you suddenly can't remember when.

Not when Bucky stood at his door with his sweatpants slung so sinfully low on his waist. Not when he wore that henley that left so little to the imagination - and he wore it so well. His arms crossed over his chest. Leaning against the doorway, one hand clutching the top of the door frame, as he waited for you. That teasing, challenging smirk. Those mischievous blue eyes. That vibranium arm glinting in the moonlight. 

Could you really be blamed for appreciating what was right there? Of course not. Or at least, that's what you told yourself. 

Natasha waves her hand in front of your face, "Are you even listening?"

Your eyes shift back to her, your mouth inexplicably dry, "Huh?"

"I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but it's a bad idea," Nat emphasizes. "A terrible, stupid idea."

"What I think Natasha is trying to say," Wanda gently interjects, "Is that we love and respect you too much to watch you get hurt all over again."

Natasha was right. You knew that.

Your impromptu girl's night came to a close with her reminding you one last time. It was a bad idea.

Seeing him tonight is a bad idea. It's most definitely a bad idea. You knew it the moment your phone lit up with a text from Bucky.

"I want to see you."

You could almost picture the disappointment in their faces. You should turn around and go back to your room and forget about Bucky Barnes. Never speak to him again. Block his number. Forget he exists. 

It's a bad idea to grab your keys and hop in your car to go see him.

It's a bad idea to drive to his apartment right now in the dead of the night.

And it was definitely a bad idea to wake up twisted in his sheets again.

It's a bad idea, right?

But you're standing in your room all alone - with no one telling you that it was indeed a bad idea. And it sounds like a fantastic idea to you. Yes, he's your ex, but can't two people reconnect? And if you trip and fall into his bed, really, what's the harm?

You shrug your shoulders, snatching up your car keys.

Fuck it, it's fine.

Part 2 - get him back!

Bucky Barnes Masterlist AnonymityIsFun Masterlist

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

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[luveline]

if you’re open to it, could you complete the trio and write smth abt james seeing reader’s scars for the first time, too? ty x

ty for requesting ♡ fem

cw past self-harm [no graphic imagery]

It should surprise James as someone who's never thought about hurting himself, but he has two very important best friends, of which he'd do anything for, who aren't of the same disposition. So when he notices the pale skin of your scars where they criss-cross your chest, your stomach, your thighs, he's almost ready for it. 

You attract sad souls, Sirius had said once, mostly joking. 

But James doesn't think that's true. He just thinks there are more people who needed love and didn't get it than first appears. 

You sit up in your sun lounger. James pretends not to notice when you see him, smiling to himself as you grab your cover up. 

"The sun doesn't feel real, right?" you ask, sitting next to him on the picnic bench. "Late September heatwave. What will global warming think of next?" 

"It's miserable," he says agreeably, though he loves the heat. "That's nice." 

"This?" you ask, waving at your cover up. It's ruched fabric made to drape at your hips, almost like a skirt. 

"Yeah, that. You look really pretty." 

"Thanks, James." Your smile is all kinds of dazzling. "Nice of Sirius to host a party, huh? Now we can make the most of the sunshine. Did he put you in charge of food again?"

He nods to the spread in clingfilm behind you both. It's safe in the shade, the sun kissing to your knees and not much further. "Doesn't he always?" 

"It's good for me. I like your samosas." 

"Which ones? The kheema ones?" He nudges you amicably. "You have good taste. I made a bunch of sliders too, cucumber sandwiches. Don't limit yourself." 

You stay by his side and eventually peel back the clingfilm on one of the plates, stealing quarter sandwiches with one of your legs pulled up on the bench. Your bikini is little and your coverup slips to one side down your leg, scars plainly on show. He has no intention of bringing it up, until you notice what's happened and flinch. He can't hide that he's seen fast enough, horrified when you fluster, you waver, your eyes pinched with humiliation. "Sorry," you say, laughing awkwardly. "I'm flashing you. Sorry." 

He casts a glance around the back garden. Most of your friends squeeze into the lazy spa sweating themselves to death in the sun, and the remainder drink cold drinks by the stereo. No one's watching you but him. 

"You don't have to be embarrassed," he says. 

"I just didn't want you to see." 

"Me?" he asks, startled. 

"I mean. Not like that. Not not like that." You tear the crusts off of your sandwich and put them on the plate like you're looking for something to do. "Not like anything." You smile at him a raw shade off of happy. 

"Shortcake, it doesn't bother me one bit. You think I care about that?" He ducks his head. "You're you. All of this," —he makes a small gesture at your front— "is you. I want to see all of it. You don't have anything you need to hide." 

"All of it?" you ask strangely. 

He doesn't get what you're saying but then he does, suddenly, blood rushing to his face and his ears hot as a flame. What a weird thing to say, he stresses to himself. You stupid man. "I'm not a pervert," he says. 

You gawp. He gets hotter, if possible, scratching his hair back from his eyes. 

"I mean, you're beautiful," he says, "anyone would be lucky to see it all. Oh my god." 

You put your ruined sandwich on the edge of the plate and fix the clingfilm as he dies of shame. He's thinking well, courting you was fun while it lasted, all those bad jokes and better hugs, he loved every minute of your attention. 

You laugh. "Most of the time I don't care about them," you confess, and he's so happy to hear your voice rolling over his embarrassment he could run a lap, "they're old. Can't do anything about them. But I didn't want you to think I was some sort of freak." 

"Is that what you think you are?" 

"No, of course not… Silly for doing something like that." 

"I don't think it was silly. We do what we can, right?" He eases his arm around your shoulders in a hug, his hand eager to rub at the top of your arm. "I don't think you're some sort of freak, you're my type of freak." 

"You really don't care?" 

"I care," he says gently, touching the tip of his nose to your cheek before giving you a more friendly amount of space. "A lot. Especially about you, okay? But I don't care about them unless you do. I like you, yeah?" 

"I like you too," you say. 

"Wanna prove it?" 

James asks you to make him a plate of things to graze on while he finds you both a drink. It's not his most romantic of lines, but it means you end up at his side for a dedicated while, flicking condensation at his chest. You don't worry about the coverup again.