#i usually try to stay out of these things
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harrysfolklore · 2 days ago
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i’ve always loved the piastri sis lore because the sibling dynamic is so healthy but just to switch it up a little bit in the tiny verstappen!sis universe i can imagine her skipping out on the WDC celebrations with max and be with charles instead and max is a little mad at her at qatar until kelly knocks sense into him 🥰
verstappen!sister was one of the first f1 fics i ever posted 🥺🥺 its kinda heartwarming that you guys still remember it and want to read more about them! it was nice to take a dip into that little world agai, i hope you like this!
READ VERSTAPPEN!YN HERE
The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred through as you rushed through the paddock, your heart torn between two directions. Behind you, the thunderous celebration at Red Bull's garage continued – your brother Max had just sealed his fourth world championship. Any other day, you'd be right there, spraying champagne and screaming until your voice gave out.
But right now, all you could think about was Charles.
You found him in the Ferrari cooldown room, still in his race suit, head in his hands. He looked up when you entered, those green eyes stormy with frustration.
"Mon coeur," he whispered, and despite his evident pain, his lips curved into a small smile at the sight of you. "You're here."
You crossed the room quickly, wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your neck, breathing deeply. "Of course I'm here. Always."
"I had it," he mumbled against your skin. "I had the pace, the position... everything. Then they called me in at the worst possible moment—" His voice cracked slightly.
You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly. "I know, baby. I watched the whole thing."
Charles pulled back slightly, cupping your face with both hands. "You should be celebrating with Max, though. It's his championship. I don't want to take you away from that."
"You're not taking me anywhere," you said firmly, pressing your forehead to his. "I choose to be here."
He kissed you softly, gratefully. "Je t'aime. What did I do to deserve you?"
"Existed," you smiled against his lips. "Come on, let's get you out of here."
As you were leaving the cooldown room, hand in hand with Charles, you nearly collided with Max in the corridor. Your brother was still in his race suit, championship cap askew, smelling of champagne and victory.
"YN?" His voice was smaller than usual. "Where were you? Everyone was asking... we were all celebrating and you just disappeared."
Guilt twisted in your stomach. "Max, I'm so sorry, I—"
"She was with me," Charles said quietly, squeezing your hand.
Max's face fell slightly, though he tried to hide it. "Oh." He looked between you both, jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. "I thought... it's the championship, YN. Our fourth championship."
"I know," you said, stepping forward to hug him tightly. "And I'm so, so proud of you. You were incredible out there. But Charles needed me."
Max returned the hug, but you could feel the tension in his shoulders. When he pulled back, his expression was complicated – hurt mixed with resignation.
"Sure, whatever. Stay with your boyfriend." He shook his head, jaw clenched. "It's fine. Not like it's my fourth world championship or anything."
The sarcasm in his voice cut deep. Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you and Charles standing in the corridor.
The next morning, you found Max in the hotel gym, pounding away at a treadmill despite probably being hungover from the celebrations. You knew your brother well enough to recognize when he was working out his frustrations physically.
"Max," you called out softly.
He didn't look at you, just kept running. "Shouldn't you be with Charles?"
"Can we talk? Please?"
He jabbed at the treadmill controls, slowing to a stop. When he finally turned to face you, his expression was guarded. "About what? About how you ditched your own brother's championship celebration to comfort your boyfriend? Because he finished P4?" He grabbed his towel, wiping his face roughly. "Real nice, sister."
"That's not fair and you know it."
"Kelly already gave me the whole speech last night, you know," he said, "Something about 'understanding love' and 'being supportive' and how she'd do the same for me."
"And?"
"And I told her she's supposed to be on my side," he said, but there was less heat in his voice than before. "She just laughed at me."
You sat down on a nearby bench, and after a moment, he joined you. "I'm still mad," he admitted. "And it's still weird as hell that my sister is dating Charles bloody Leclerc of all people."
"Could be worse," you tried. "Could've been Lewis."
"Don't even joke about that," he groaned, but you caught the tiny smile he tried to hide. His face turned serious again. "Kelly made some good points though. About how she'd choose to be with me if I was struggling after a race, even if it meant missing something important. Still doesn't mean I like it."
"I really am sorry about disappearing like that."
"I wanted my sister there," Max's voice cracked slightly. "You've been there for every important moment in my career. Every single one. Until yesterday. It's like ever since you started dating him, I'm losing my little sister bit by bit."
"You're not losing me, Max. You're my brother, nothing will ever change that. But Charles...I love him."
Max was quiet for a long moment. "You really love him that much? It's that serious?"
"Yeah," you whispered. "It is."
He sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. "I still don't like it. And I'm still mad about yesterday." He paused, then added grudgingly, "But I guess I need to get used to sharing you. Just... don't disappear on me like that again, okay? I had to listen to Helmut asking if you were sick or something. Do you know how awkward it was explaining that my sister was too busy consoling a Ferrari driver to celebrate with us?"
"Did you actually tell him that?"
"No, I told him you had a headache. You're welcome, by the way." He paused. "But seriously, YN. I get that you love him or whatever—" he made a face at the words, "—but you're still my sister."
"And you're still my annoying big brother," you leaned against his shoulder. "So... fourth championship, huh? Getting a bit boring now, isn't it?"
"Never," he grinned, then added more seriously, "Would've been better with you there though."
"I'll make it up to you. Plus, there's still family dinner tonight."
"Yeah, about that..." Max's expression turned mischievous. "I might have told Mom to make that really spicy Indonesian dish Charles couldn't handle last time."
"Max!"
"What? If he's going to be family, he needs to build up his tolerance," he said innocently. "Besides, it's payback for making me miss my sister at my championship celebration."
"You're impossible."
"Yeah, but I'm a four-time world champion impossible brother," he smirked, pulling you into a headlock like when you were kids. "And don't you forget it."
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kooyabooya · 12 hours ago
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INTERLUDE
m reader x haewon // 9k words
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You’ll give credit where it’s due.
If not for her, you wouldn’t be here - and if not for you, she would have quit the logistical side of the show business a long, long time ago. 
She's written her own sweet, tragic, but beautiful tale of madness; willing to stay amidst the whirlwinds of shit she’s put herself through, and you can somewhat see as to why. 
It’s when she’s let herself into the space of your apartment, hours past of the usual and typical workday. Most of the reasons in this case have their own tales and periods of reflection the next morning - though, a common thread of events that you’ve been accustomed to is the trail of her heels leading a path to the couch, her handbag tossed off to the opposite end, sinking into the cushions. She’s tired, and very unbothered. 
You’re doing your own pat down not far from her. A jacket’s tossed onto the nearby chair of your dining table; the usual essentials of your phone, wallet, and one of many pairs of glasses also find their place away from your reach. 
“Since when the hell did you snag my keys from me?” You ask, patting down the quartet of pockets to realize the sudden item wasn’t part of the things you rummaged off your body. 
“It’s called sleight of hand, dear.” Haewon says, a phone spinning in the air and to a nearby pillow, “That’s what happens when you leave a key with me after our last outing. Have someone to blame? Let that be yourself.” 
“I was wondering why you were taking longer getting out of the car.” 
“Girls like to take their sweet time.” 
“Your point being?” 
“My point?” She sits up and leans forward, diverting her attention towards one of the gacha items that you got as a gift from one of her clients - a token of gratitude, for being wonderful with me - you recall the memory for a split second, and Haewon keeps on flipping it around between her fingers. “Don’t get too pressed now. It’s not like you would be locked out of your house for that long. Besides, your landlord’s seen me with you more times than he can count. If I were to ask him for the master key, he’d probably say yes.” 
“Speculation,” you breathe, “Honestly, you can try, and I think you could be on his good side for all I know.” 
A few wisps of her hair fall far off the side, and she pulls it back with a single finger. Even in the dimmest of lightings, you can still see the small twinge of her nose pulling back, flaring her nostrils. Then she flicks her eyes back toward you, hooking. “You’ve always let me lead the way, and you’re following not far behind.” 
You’re tending to the cuffs of your shirt, rolling them up just below the elbows. “I do a whole lot more than just my job.” 
“Tch,” Haewon’s got the tip of her tongue on her upper teeth. “You know well enough that it cuts both ways.” 
Almost as if this was practiced on cue, these sliding strides you make as Haewon picks herself up from her seat, it’s like two characters taking center stage. The lighting’s barely peeking through for you to see where everything’s leveled. Doesn’t matter how much effort you put into it, Haewon’s frame is the only thing you see, the weight on your shoulders start to droop from the imaginary weight on them. You can probably settle with how the luminating radiance of the night sky showers her porcelain skin or the way her silhouette molds itself in the meshing colors of this cozy dark blue pooling through behind her. There’s also the fleeting realization that this is your space that she’s nestling in. But you can’t ignore the sudden occasional chill that sweeps through every time she walks in - even when it’s after hours, the effect is still in play. 
Haewon’s treating another few strands of her hair behind her ear before looking down at the small toy on your table top. “Not a bad idea for you to start a collection going.” 
You glance over her shoulder and pull a firm grin across your face. “You know, I was a bit perplexed in why she gave that to me in the first place - after I politely refused so many times.” A shake of your head and a sigh follows instantly after. “But the more I look at it, it’s pretty cute to have. Brings a whole lot of variety in the place right off the bat.” 
Haewon dips her head down, hiding a subtle smirk when touches the tips of her socks on the floor. “I know that you fancy your books and everything but, I was happy that you took her gift in the end.” 
“Expecting me to just say no?” 
“Blind boxes are a life lesson too. People expect one thing and when they don’t get what they want, they’re pretty torn to whether to be happy or not with what they pulled. Now that I think about it, the same lesson can be seen in Forrest Gump when he’s sitting on the bench with the old lady.” 
“A lot of people can resonate with Forrest in that moment. Probably because almost everybody’s got something that they didn’t want in the first place, and I’ll take your word for it.” You slide your hands into your pockets, rolling your shoulders back. “Makes people appreciate the many things they have.” 
Haewon cocks her head towards her left, bringing it back upright once her body’s facing yours. You’re holding your breath here for a second, swallowing a lump of nervousness down your throat. She’s got it all: the intellect, the beauty, the poise. Each and every single one of those thoughts crosses both ways in your mind, it’s been like that since you got paired with her. The authenticity of her presence doubles down what’s written on paper. Like any fool in this scenario, you carry on, thinking about all of the things you’d never thought you’d do with her - the way she tries to hide the growing blush on her face when your arms hold her, how her eyelids lower their guard when you’re closing the proximity to mere inches, how she sighs with a finger pressed to her temple before whipping some of her hair back - adorable, and perfect. There’s really no other way to describe it, or her; even if she’s not very adamant into accepting the meaningful compliments. 
“Maybe you’re right.” Her small frame nestles itself easily at your front and she’s happily dancing her fingers at the pointe end of your necktie, fiddling along with the button beneath it. You’re deluding yourself at the imaginary tug she has on you and she’s barely laid a finger. “Scratch that, I wholeheartedly agree.” 
You’d wish that you could make a quick snapshot back to the very time you first unraveled her in your home, on an evening whim just like this. The proposition of pulling up a mental calendar and ripping off the pages backwards to a full two years of working with her. Though, you’re able to automatically deduce the fact of the time you and her actually spent working together - a good portion of those cases in the sheets which is worth considering - but despite all that, there’s a good report to draw up in your head where the times flowed in fluctuations, much like in a spectrogram. Some of the days with her peaked higher than the rest, and others were on the opposite end of the spectrum. That’s just how this rapport- this relationship was. 
Haewon never really dabbled with the idea of putting a label on this ‘thing’ you have with her. 
It could be a relationship, or maybe it couldn’t. She would always immediately shut down that thought circling around your brain. 
A tried and true method in getting your hopes up. And each and every time she shot your heart down. It would send you in limbo for what feels like an endless string of days, the firm tone with her delivery very clear and straight to the point. You can’t help yourself in waiting for something to change; heck, it’s possibly everything you ever wanted with her. 
It also didn’t help when the people in your inner circle were already in their own walks of life, blooming into something beautiful with their significant others; while you’re sitting off to the side, watching them from a distance as it feels like with every passing day, you’re falling further and further behind. There isn’t enough space in your journal, let alone the selection of drinks to choose from after being downed, but the feeling remains all the same - it’s a harrowing want to fill that depression oh-so desperately. 
“Whatever happened to ‘keeping things professional’?” Dipping your head down as the tip of your nose hovers right above her head, catching the first few whiffs of that oceanic scent used in her shampoo. “Wasn’t it your words exclusively that we would stop what we’re doing now? At this moment?” 
This time, you were the one to raise that wall up, hoping that it’ll stick after being broken down so many times. 
“Mine?” Haewon blurts out once her hands finally reach to the lines of your shoulders, palms sliding along the fabric of your shirt. “What about it? Don’t try to flip this back on me when we were just talking outside in the staircase and then you decided to push me against the door, perch my chin up and-” 
“Haewon.” 
“One night. That one night. You-” 
“Haewon.” You know that she’s primarily the one who likes to repeat herself at times to get her point across, but not tonight.
She sighs, head falling forward in your chest. “Alright, I’ll bite. Yes, those were my words, and I stand by them. She’s trying her hardest to ignore your overwhelming stature, because she knows your truth; she knows, and knows, and knows.“But that doesn’t mean that what I tell you is enough to sway your mind, nor your choice.”
Her words tell you one thing, but her body welled up against yours tells you another. 
“Haewon,” you repeat again, blinking it through. Your voice slightly chokes up when her thumb skates up the line of your jaw, letting her pull get the best of you, breath canvassing the slope where your chin and neck meet. “You’re not helping yourself here.” 
“It’s been a long day,” she admits, kissing you foolishly, her fingers slither to the back of your head. Your hands have a mind of their own while it tries to scrounge up what’s left of her melting figure, humming gently into your skin. “You could’ve like- taken me home, or something. Rather than bring me here, because we both know how this story goes.” 
“Don’t get all sensical with me now,” you say to her, hand quick to her wrist in an attempt to stop her, but she’s seen that card played before. “You were the one to tell me to get the hell out of the office as fast as we could, and here we are.” 
Haewon flashes her eyes at you, narrowing her expression with the simple tilt of her head. “I guess you’re right. Either I call a cab home or have you as my personal driver. Looks like the second option was the best one to pick between the two.” 
“You did look tired.” 
“Because I am.” Her eyebrows ruffle against each other when you drop the blunt response as she returns to the slacked neck along with her wrists. “After the shitstorm with Bae, and then with Sullyoon? God, don’t even get me started. You were there when everything went down.” 
“In fact I was.” 
She scowls with a much more dragged out tone with her voice, the stress pressing down on her lips returning to their familiar parted place. “I’m trying so hard to not think about it, but it’s just- ugh.” 
“A problem to be dealt with tomorrow,” you tell her, hands bringing her closer to your waist. “Just don’t think.” 
“Easy for you to say.” Haewon deadpans, her face shifting flat with dead eyes. “And it’s easier for it to be said than done.” 
“Why not do it, then?” 
“Huh?” 
“I’m asking you to not focus on work for once, genius.” 
“This is me not focusing on work,” she says, pouting, “you’re the one who’s not letting me go in the first place.” 
You manage to look away for a quick second, closing your eyes to fight back the growing cringe rising on your face. “Says the one who waltzed into my house and arms right now.” 
Haewon lets out another dry laugh, resting the side of her face below your collar, pulling down on the slightly untied knot. “Well, I guess I can let you have that over me. I’ll admit that.” 
A deep inhale puffs up your chest as you’re carding your fingers into those coffee brown locks of her hair, massaging her temple. 
“Consider that to be one of your few wins against my arguments. Why bother tell you my personal thoughts about the details we talked about in the meetings earlier, or even in the office.” She sighs again deeply, burrowing herself into your embrace. “What I would do to give that pretty dumbass a-” 
“I’m pretty sure you’ve already said that to her earlier, by the way.” 
Haewon looks up again, recalling for a quick second, closing her lips before sounding a simple hum. “Right, I guess I did.” 
“You don’t have to handle this all by yourself, you know.” 
“What if I want to, hm?” She beams. The flip in her mood is always an anomaly in the way that she’s brushing herself up closer to you. “You know my business - my affairs, but I didn’t tell you all of them.” 
You’re well familiar with the playing field she’s setting up here. It’s a battleground that’s seen it all between the two of you, the losses outweighing the victories (and by an overwhelming margin on her end too). She’s always the one to initiate, to set up, your thoughts already getting ahead with the same downward tilt of your head, hands caressing the fabric of her skirt, finding a familiar hold of her hips like one would always do at the start of every slow dance. 
Of course you stay silent, blinking.< Haewon’s quick fire of air leaving her nostrils hides her laugh not that well.> (putting this here to take this sentence out and edit) “Well- Haewon, I’ve got no other choice but to hear you ramble all about them, since it’s my job.” 
“You know most of them.” 
“Like you said: most.” 
Haewon rests herself into you, the lines of tape gradually coming undone. The scent of her shampoo hits your nose a little bit harder this time, her palms sliding up across your chest again. She innocently tilts her head up, parting her lips; tiny, rosy, and dangerously inviting. You have no other thought filling your mind but to lift her up and capture her all to yourself. 
Her lips are like putty - easy to form and mold into the shape that you like. But you pull yourself back, a last line of defense before her eyes and hands have their own say. “Could you say that this is a choice too?” 
“Hm.” She tilts herself upwards into the line of your neck, each quick kiss sending both your heart and mind into echelons higher than cloud nine, melting with every touch until she has your head in between her palms, holding you gently. The blinks she gives are slow, and her breath hitting your face leaves you to your own devices. “What you do with me is always a choice.” 
You retreat for a moment, pulling yourself far away where you can, Haewon’s body still within reach in your arms, forming a wall of air between the space of your chest and hers. “I feel like what we do is already risky as it seems, no? Sure, we see each other on a regular basis, deal with what needs to be done with the day, talking to clients, making sure things are right for the events, going back and forth with no definite pause in between.” Didn’t matter if she was out of the country or mere inches away from you, she’s always about work it seems - like that was the only mode programmed in her mind. “More often than not, I’m treating what damage is done which usually ends up with a few bottles of beer and don’t even get me started on how bad of a lightweight you are-” 
“Uh, rude.” Haewon pays no attention to you. Her thumb grazes your cheek again, and you can’t help the way that you’re leaning into her touch, once realizing that what you said might be too much. You feel your head being reeled in lower and lower, until you feel the tip of her nose hit the cuff of your ear. “But you’re not wrong, and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me that way.” 
Nodding was something that you always used to acknowledge her opinions or thoughts, and it isn’t any different here. 
However, your hands are playing a different role: traversing their way into the two small divots below the small of her back, resting just right above her ass. She’s getting herself more and more comfortable, undoing the first three buttons of her shirt, inviting you to dive into the new opening. You keep on gazing into her slightly swollen lips, studying at how quickly her tongue wets the bottom part, and you draw another swift inhale past your teeth before answering, “There’s no need for you to apologize, especially to me.”
Haewon keeps on pulling the undone tie, the knot basically nonexistent the more she pulls down, eventually sliding it out of your collar and onto the floor. She gives it a quick glance when it pools over her feet and yours, and her lapin eyes land on yours again, bottom lip captured between her teeth. “I just feel bad, you know? And part of me thinks that it’s only a matter of time until you’ve had enough and want to-” 
You shut her up before she keeps up the self-lament, meshing her lips against yours, wanting her to be persuaded in a different manner - one with less words and more actions. 
Drawing back, “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. And even if I ever had the chance to, I’d straight up say no.” 
“Look at you, so easygoing.”
“I-” 
“At some point,” she breathes, ghosting her face over yours, tugging on that want for you to chase after. “I’d thought you’d give up on forgiving me.” 
“For?” 
“Anything, really.” Haewon answers admittedly. “Whether it’s here or in the office, you have that same look in your eyes, the one filled with sorrow. It hurt me a bit.” 
Maybe right now would be the time to remind her that what she’s thinking is nothing but complete bullshit. 
So you lean down again, and pull her close. Another snapshot taken in the back of your mind. 
Two years is a long time. Two years of the same routine over and over, of working with her, unwinding after the long hours hidden away from everyone else, watching her work herself down to the bone, doing all of these things as if she’s going to die in the next five seconds if she doesn’t keep going. She’s rising to every occasion that she can, moving so fast that you can’t even bear to keep up with her. You’d admire from a distance, in awe, all while you’re at her right-hand side, unwilling to say anything to her. Obviously when she needed to get her mind off of something, or everything for that matter, she wasn’t the kind of person to be upfront about what she wants and let you read into the signs. Luckily, you’ve always noticed at a glance, and even if she isn’t the one to puff out her lips and kiss you first. No. Never. That’s a luxury that’s reserved for you and only you. Because all it takes is one look into your eyes, and the way she’s broken you down like this, she’s very aware of what your downfall is: her. 
All of this is a continuation of a growing culmination, her own personal anthology sprouted from her brain, one which you’ve caught wind of gradually. 
When you’re kissing into her again, hard, you start to feel everything around you collapse. It’s in the way that she smiles against your lips, matching every curve you give her - it’s amazing, and you could write poems of all the good things about Haewon - you’re reminded again and again how out of all the moments in the high achieving days and miserable nights, these instances feel just right. She’s drawing air into her nose, grazing your cheek, never wanting to pull each other away; until you’re sucking the oxygen out of each other’s mouths that leaves the both of you suffocating a bit. It’s all foolish, maybe just a bit, and to hell with the consequences awaiting you at the end of the bridge, because she knows that she’ll be in a safe place as long as it’s with you. 
The arch in her back rises, and you’re clinging tighter into her smaller frame, shoulder bunching up next to her neck, making it easier for you to hold. You can tell her breaths and hums are getting desperate, her own little mess up the more she melts into you. 
You’re not helping her in this situation, and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve done this to her. She’s hooking her arm well around your neck, the only line of support while you’re taking care of the rest, letting her wrists fall slack as you keep on your loving siege on her lips. 
She’s had a rough one this week. A red eye flight back from a fashion week, an entire day of going to ten different locations with one of her top clients, then there’s the whole incident with Bae and Sullyoon back to back. Amongst all of those things, you’d wish that you’d sweep her away for just a second and take her mind off from all the pressures and stress (and you definitely wished you didn’t wait until now to finally do it). 
“Mmmm,” Haewon lets her voice rumble in her throat, tightening her grip in the back of your collar, signaling you to pull away. When you do, her eyes pool into yours, shimmering pupils working overtime to map out the lines of your face. You could feel the heat from her cheeks grow warmer. Her eyes cross for a second. She lets her head go crestfallen, pulling this one smile, her simplest smile, the rarest one she could ever have that not a lot of people have had the pleasure of seeing. The gentlest and most genuine one that she could have, it sells the whole thing to you. Despite her tough shell, you realize that she’s one of the rare few that sends your heart flipping, every time she’s got your guard lowered - exactly in the way like this - it’s impossible to ignore the outshining tempts when all of your inhibitions are at their lowest. 
Her head goes one side, and then the opposite, “I don’t expect you to forgive me for this.” 
Today’s been one of those days. You’re tired, even beyond tired. If she didn’t come with you, the bed would’ve been full by now. Two years of the on and off and the off and on, it’s draining. You don’t say anything, as always. Instead, you swoop down beneath her thighs and carry her, taking her lips all to yourself. 
She hums this heavenly noise when you press her against the wall, her legs hooking to a familiar spot where it hasn’t been in a while. Some of the buttons in her shirt come more undone not to your knowledge, but you play the counterpart when tending to the clip and zipper of her skirt. Luckily your body can work in two places at once, returning your focus to Haewon’s face, a sweep of her tongue over your bottom lip. 
The pressure to her waist is not too little nor too much, but just the right amount of press when your leg plays this momentary support underneath her legs, helping her slip out of her shirt while she does the same to you. Almost like you’re opening the pages of a book you finished reading, but flipping through to a certain part like the untouched skin of her chest with her simple black bra playing as the final back line of garments waiting to be discarded. She does that part all by herself, indulging on the breadth of her collarbone, forcing her to bite down a soft moan. 
Haewon here isn't one to play nice. There’s a bit of a tug-of-war going on with your mouths until you gnaw on her lips a bit too hard, wanting you to do that again the way her face is chasing after yours. But her eyes find their place in line again, gaze softening - you’re cursing at yourself because of how beautiful she looks like this. She’s always been one to have a heart of steel, create that dam covering her fragile trust, her arms wrap you in her embrace, eyes hinting at a sign of concern. The flame in your heart has gone cold, but she’s always been the one fanning the fire back to life. 
When you let her down gently, back sliding against the smooth drywall, her arms shift over her head - opening up the area of her midriff to see, to feel. Your palms have never felt anything smoother until they’re slipping the skirt off from her hips, curling over the waistband of her underwear and she fills the open space between your mouths, “fix me up baby, please.” 
Most of her solid-colored panties get caught between your knuckles, skating down her thigh - you’re hunting, searching, till you reach that empowering heat between her thighs. You could feel the top part of her forearm press firmly on the nape of your neck while one of her shoulder blades drags itself against the wall behind her. 
A drag up, then down across her folds, and she rasps. 
You get a finger in, maybe two just to test, feeling her body tense and grasp and hook onto anything within her reach. Little by little, piece by piece, Haewon’s gradually reduced to these mere meeked noises and hums the more your hands and lips begin their grand assault across the fine canvas of her body. The wetness consumes your fingers, and your mouth increasingly gets greedy as you’re nibbling away at the firm mound of her now exposed breasts, her bra gone in one swift move, mind focusing on too many feelings all at once. 
Her head lolls up and over, opening up the left side of her neck for you to take, gasping. She can’t stop squirming in place, and you’ll deal with that soon enough. “I love your hands,” she sighs. “God, you sure know how to satisfy a woman.” 
Your brain is working on the clock, finding all of the niche places and spots on her body to get her needy for more, and she’s playing spectator, the pad of your tongue swipes upward at the midline of her chest, capturing the hard bud of her nipple between your thumb and index, twisting without a care of her quick pain. 
Haewon gets both of her hands around your head, pulling you up from drowning beneath her neck, showering your face with kisses, forehead pressing against yours, “Happy with your reward?” 
You’ll give credit where it’s due. You hate how intoxicating she is with the snarky remarks and fast banter, but you love how simple she is to break down - send her mind into a downward spiral. She could let you ruin her life, and it would be the same for you. 
It takes a moment too long to consider, your brain is running through the playbook of all the moves and positions you could have her in, which spot in your house would be the most ideal place to simply just bend her over and tear her insides apart until she won’t be able to walk or think straight. A woman like her: clothes pooled and scattered everywhere at her feet, swollen lips and tattered skin just waiting to be ruined. 
Haewon knows you well, where all she has to do is say something to snap your attention back to her: “How do you want me?” 
She’s selfish, there’s no denying that. Though, she doesn’t really care what you think when she’s kissing you shamelessly once more, smushing and smacking her lips across your face, letting her have her way and to sink into her body again. But here is where she forgets, another callback of the few other times she got too ahead of the curve too soon- 
“I think I find you to be prettier when you’re like this,” you tell her, quickly sinking down to your knees moving her thighs over your shoulders; get your face close to that warm, delightful fountain between her thighs when you lift her up from the floor, holding her there. 
-to realize that you too, are also selfish in your own accord; at some point, there’s a time to prove who has what between the two of you, and the sigh of acknowledgment slipping out of her lips gives just enough that you’re doing something right. 
It all could’ve gone wrong for Haewon at any given point in the time you’ve been working with her. All it took was a few mishaps both in and out of her control and she would’ve snapped. In those dire times of need, she had you. Whether it’d be your mouth or your fingers, the way you settle into these well-practiced strokes of your tongue and cock, and she loves to travel down the little rite of passage when you shut her up with a palm on her mouth or a hand to her throat. She knows that you have your limits, and it’s all in her cards for when she’s able to unshackle you from your common sensibilities. A hand is raked into your hair as you’re shifting your head closer and closer, until your breath starts to blanket her leaking entrance, awaiting for your arrival. 
There’s a few mumbles spilling out of her lips when you gently kiss her folds, brush your nose right up against her clit, to where her head bucks forward, giving an unintentional style of wispy bangs the more your mouth starts to scoop up the mess that you’ve created. Her hips buck and jerk, pressing your head deeper into her quivering pussy lips, wanting to get that ache so much faster than intended. 
“God, yes baby- right there,” is all she says, and she can barely manage to prop her head upright when you look up from below. 
A chuckle leaves your nose, arming a coy smile before you carry on your attention onto her swollen clit, sucking and teasing on it shamelessly until you start to feel the insides of her thighs shake against your ears, digging her nails deep into your scalp. 
“Is this what you wanted?” you ask, feeling the pressure of Haewon’s legs crushing your skull from within. “Looks like you’ve been pent up for a while now, no?” 
Haewon digs a heel into your back, making you secure the tops of her thighs with your fingers, hitting her head back on the wall. “Among other things.” 
“Really.” You reply flatly, giving her another swift lick of your tongue into her aching cunt, her slick pooling across the wet pad. “Because judging how your body’s reacting, you’ve been wanting me badly since the last time.” 
“Sounds perfectly right.” 
She loses that hefty persona pretty damn quickly when you’re diving into her pussy again, stifling a moan, grinding  her hips into your head, wanting you to keep on licking until she’s had enough (spoiler alert: she hasn’t.) “Do tell me more,” you’re telling her, smacking your lips to the heat, “if you’re able to, of course.” 
“Seriously. Fuck you.” 
“Says the one who’s technically my boss.” 
“Not when it’s after hours I’m not.” 
“What are you implying?” 
Haewon’s eyes squint a bit, trying to keep focus, doubling down on the indulgence of your tongue over her folds. Her face is in a rosy shade of pink, similar to when she’s usually drunk - but this shade however, you’d prefer to see her more in. “Stop pretending to play dumb. I know you can read between the lines here.” 
“And what if I want to be oblivious for once? Like in every situation that we’re in while at work?” 
“You’re not, ah-” 
You’re not giving her any chance to breathe here. She doesn’t deserve it. And when you lather her pussy up in your spit, it’s less than an act of mercy, helplessly whining at the harshful gnawing you’re doing to her poor cunt - it’s what she wants, and she has no one to blame for making you like this but herself. 
“If you’re not my boss during these hours, then what are you?” You inquire.
“I’ll be anything but your boss. Is that what you wanted to hear?” 
That’s all the confirmation that you needed, forcefully plummeting her down to her inevitable demise. You feel the muscles in her thighs clench in shock from the unexpected anticipation, biting down her shriek the more you dive into the endless depths of her entrance, satisfying that want that you and her so desperately wanted. 
“Oh,” Haewon sighs out as some epiphany. But the moment of relief washes over her in no time, her layers folding. Collapsing. Her entire body wiggles in this circular motion. “Oh.” 
The heavenly chorus of her mewls fill your ears when you’re cementing your pace, wreaking havoc between her thighs. She’s still got her hand gripping the back of your head, the other flat on the wall. Her stomach bucks and folds at the weight of your tongue, moving your head around in different directions to make sure that you’re hitting every spot with the right approach. The pleasure is building in all of the right places, and you can feel the curl of her toes on your back, ensuring that you’re doing the exact job as her personal toy. “Fuck. Right there, right there.” 
It only increases the flood by tenfold. She’s spilling more and more you kiss, swirl, nibble, and tease - doing everything you can to make sure she reaches that unimaginable peak first. “You’re so good. You’re so so good. Baby- don’t stop, oh my god-” 
Haewon can’t help herself here, leaning her back deeper into the wall and dragging her hips outward, keeping both legs on your shoulders to the best that she can, unable to let up with the bucks and jolts her hips are making into your face. Every quick rush of air past her teeth only holds so much until she starts to feel her stomach bunch up in knots. 
“T-tongue, dear. Oh jesus, you’re so good at- fuck!” she yelps, the tailends of her breaths tattered in these hushed moans, picking up in volume the more you slurp up her pussy to your heart’s content. “Almost, almost.” 
You’re well aware of the fact that Haewon is one of the main catalysts when it comes to operating her job. She’s second to none. The standard. The spearhead. She’s got one of the most sizable clientele’s for a reason. But the jaws of work can consume anybody in this climate, no matter how on top or perfect they can be. It would only be a matter of time for the fatigue to get to her - and with the recent events happening around the office, it did just that. Everyone needs a break from time to time, and she’s no different here. A tongue laps up one spot past the clit, there’s a nibble of her swollen folds between your teeth, and here is where you step up to the role of ensuring that Haewon gets her much deserved intermission here. 
“Right there, I’m gonna-ah! -umming,” Haewon wails, failing to let up with the oral assault on her quivering cunt, her cries filling up your ears, the muscles of her legs locking your back in place, fingers tugging the roots of your hair. “Cumming. I’m fucking cumming.”
These puppy eyes you do to look up, she gazes down, bottom lip still stuck to her teeth as her expression tears, coming down from her needed stress relief. You stay the course in holding her steady, taking account of the lingering twitches and tensions of muscle her body does. 
And not long after, you finally let her down from the wall. Her arms slither around the familiar profiles of your back, lazily planting her lips onto your skin again - Haewon wants another taste of you. It’s also kind of cute how her toes stack up on top of your feet, prompting you to lead the way into the bedroom while she’s closely tethered to you. 
“Love it. Love it so much.” Haewon sighs out, half-lidded eyes caught in your vision. “Love it when you make me cum like that.” 
It’s one of the few moments where she doesn’t expect a response from you, because it’s already true. 
Above everything, you carry on with your steps as Haewon’s lips continue to spell out these hushed curses - all the things that she wants you to do to her - her fantasies, the praises, what she likes you doing and what she wants to do to you with the intent of returning the favor. Her figure is so light in your hands and on your feet, limbs loose enough to bend and twist, a marked up canvas ready for another brush-to-paper moment. 
Gravity here does it’s own thing when she falls backward onto the mattress of your room, her arms doing this natural reflex of going above her head, carving up these unbelievable curves in real time to where her back is off the comforters and her left foot is inching up against her inner right thigh. This image alone was enough for you to mindlessly slip out of your pants and underwear, eyes fixed on Haewon rolling her body: belly facing down, back up, her knees dig deep into the sheets, the upper half stretching a bit while her lower half rises up past your thighs, rounding out her hips. 
Her knees spread wider across the sheets and her back dips, you think - just a bit, and the look she does over her shoulder is the right amount of lethality. You don’t even flinch when she manages to get her fingers onto the length of your cock, telling you the only thing she wants you to do: 
“Take this cock and fuck me.” 
You’d follow her words no matter what. 
Like a siren’s call out in the sea, the sound of Haewon’s voice comes off as this daring risk where the mind starts to slowly reduce itself around her hand, languidly pumping you to the point where the urge to rip the fun out of her is impossible to ignore. 
“I’ve always wondered,” she starts to say. 
You lean down to shower a few kisses to her neck, fingers sliding up to her waist, pressing for a firm hold while an airy giggle passes her lips. 
“How long have you dealt with me? Being like this? 
“Where would I even start?” You hunch over with a trail of kisses down her lower back, cupping the swell of her ass while noting that most of her slick has spread past the underside and to the back of her thighs. “I don’t even remember who made the first move back then.” 
Haewon reaches out for one of your pillows, setting it between her arms and chest, “I’m sure it was you, or maybe it was me. Maybe-” 
A wistful gasp stops her from talking when you slowly press your cock into her leaking pussy, lips slicked up and inviting between those lovely thighs of hers. You drink in the sight of the grip she has around your length as you continue to ease yourself into her, keeping it together poorly before the heat and her pulse gets to your head. 
“Maybe what?” you tell her, attempting to bring back her train of thought from fleeing away. 
This girl who’s backside is arched so high up in the air and stomach buried deep into the sheets looks over her shoulder again, eyes filled with tension - a fire blazing beneath the irises. “Maybe- you were just oblivious about the signals I was sending you, but now that we’re here, I guess you can say that you made the curve.” 
“I won’t deny anything here-” Everything about this is the reality, anyway. You drag and push yourself into the fluttering heat of her second pair of lips. Her body is so responsive in the wants and needs just from the wetness alone, but she knows that you’re not easy to take. “That was an argument I lost a while ago.” 
Your hips flush with Haewon’s and she whines, shoving her face into the pillow set in front of her as she relaxes into the stable pace. A simple yank of her waist back to your thighs serves the only preamble, the quick groan ripped out of your chest, that rush of wanting this tightness and addicting feeling more and more. 
“Right?” You’re asking again, meshing her hips with yours, leaning forward and down to the nape of her neck. Sighs joining together in an impromptu chorus, “I’m not denying you winning me over.” 
Haewon’s hands here go a bit haywire, shooting up and out. One of them comes to grips with the comforter beneath her. You watch her body move, ass rippling through every pump back into her cunt. “Yeah, but you-” 
Her head then dips down into the pillow again, writhing in the twists left and right. You catch yourself hobbling over her upper body once more, lip trapped to your teeth. “You said ‘yeah’. Let’s keep it that way.” 
A gradual rhythm gets developed here, taking in every wonderful inch of Haewon’s dripping cunt, shaft picking up more and more slick with ease in every passing stroke. She’s so wonderfully tight around your length, molding to your cock like it’s the missing piece that makes her feel complete, and whole. There’s an attempt to level herself parallel to the mattress, but you don’t give her any kind of luxury whatsoever, pushing down on the small of her back that deepens the arch, nudging your cockhead down further past the threshold of her calefaction. 
You’re blinking, you’re believing, and you’re pretty much swearing to the heavens above at the thought out realization that Haewon was meant to be yours - like she was made for only you. She’s in the right position, taking you at just the right angle, all sensibilities hanging on a singular thread. Every hit spills out a quick phrase of pants, watch her struggle in keeping her head upright, a slacking neck in response with the consistent slaps of your hips into hers. 
Her slick creates these scattered strings across the skin - not only to the tops of your thighs, but to her ass as well, the sound of her moans bouncing off the walls once they start to rise up a bit in volume. 
“Fucking-” and it’s right at this moment, where she sounds relieved, it all comes down with a firm grind of her teeth, “fuck.” 
“Yeah?” You hum. 
“It’s so-” the blowback of your cock into her cunt becomes a little too much to bear, “it’s so fucking good.” 
You’re holding her in place, right at the hips, the unbelievable form of her ass rocking back and forth with every shift of motion caused by you. The low light of your humidifier works its hours on the nightstand, illuminating the comfy and watered colors onto her skin. She’s drenched in this soft honey shade, laying ruin of the pale sheets on her knees and elbows - face gazing to the window, proffering up these listless praises to fill up your head. 
The thing is: this isn’t the first time that you and her were like this. There’s an absolute certainty that someone living in either the floors above or below your room has heard everything that’s happened within these walls. Surely someone minding their own business walking along the sidewalk outside has seen Haewon’s gorgeous tits pressed up against the glass, her face full of rapture and pleasure - not having any sense of respect or decency to keep it in the room. You remember railing her poor pussy out on the balcony one time; and that was an issue for the landlord to bring up the following day, but neither you nor her really cared. 
What really mattered here, was fucking her brains out. Easy as that. 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! Oh my god-” 
Every word that’s punctuated out of her lips starts to collapse on top of each other, the impact of your thrusts siphoning the last bits of air trapped in her lungs. She isn’t making her condition any better, suffocating herself deep into the pillow, hoping to drown out the wet noises of her cunt slipping your cock in with refined precision. This choking grip is more dangerous than her hands, her hitched breaths are in no comparison to your labored huffs, slowing your movements with one forceful drive in, a massage of her asscheeks here, another drag and thrust back into her tight cunt, and a playful slap to her ass, tainting the slick skin in red. 
“Baby, your fucking cunt,” you hiss. “Jesus christ.” 
A whiny ‘mhm-” is all you manage to get out of Haewon, breaking underneath your weight. Her ass is still facing up, face shoved into the pillow, nicking her neck up for air, fucking her down the curve of her spine. “Oh my goodness. You got it so deep. Hit me hard. Please, and I swear to fuck - ngh-” 
You’re groaning, increasing the sway of your hips into hers, “So fucking tight.” Haewon’s hands manage to find yours, holding the swell of her ass together, moving her body the opposite direction away from you, meeting the impact down the middle which sends your balls lightly tapping the nub of her clit. She knows that you’ve been working a bit too much for your own sake, so she goes on ahead and has her own fun, fucking herself back onto your cock, the recoil alone enough for you to just freeze on your knees and take it. 
“S’that feel good?” she asks innocently.
Spilling out another expletive, you angle your hips up as her ass comes crashing down. 
“You’re so hard for me,” Haewon continues, looking over with her body still pressed against the sheets, the left side of her face smiling at the sight of you trying to hold it together. “This cock fits so well inside- jesus, ah- had to let yourself go for a bit, didn’t you?” 
“If you keep your hips moving with my hands tied, I’m gonna fucking lose it.” 
The plot was already lost from the first dirty thought you had with her. 
Her ass keeps your lower half in check, unknowingly moving through muscle memory while the walls of your room continue to reverberate the stuttering breaths and quick curses slipping out of both of your lips. Your hands hold still in tandem with her fingers and start to claw into your palms, pleasure spiking everywhere in her body, skin hot to the touch as the claps start to increase in tempo - the rate shifting to something more desperate, erratic. 
“My fucking god, shit!” She wails, her hands shooting down to her ass, spreading herself wider while you lock your eyes at the sight of your cock buried into her cunt becomes a whole lot more clearer now, “Right there baby, holy fuck- this cock is just-” Haewon’s demeanor is diminishing by the second, words and sighs tumbling over in loops, but the pitch in her whines hit a familiar key or tone, gradually crescendoing when she gives up in squirming between your fingers. 
“Pound my ass- yes, fuck- this dick is amazing.” Her head swivels up before ducking below into the open cavity of her chest and arms, sucking in her stomach with whatever strength she has left, “Give me more,” she’s panting, head spinning and spinning like a ceiling fan, “Give it to me. I need more-” 
There’s not much left for you to take other than the stray tit that’s captured into your hand when you hunch yourself over her again, lift the upper half of her body upwards so that she’s in line with yours, entrapping that heat away from the cool air, trembling. Your mouth is back to her ear again, eyes half-lidded, fingers moving around your neck while the warmth of her cunt starts to burn across your length - the new lane created where your cock slides into her that creates this sequence of events of her convulsing, shuddering, pulling her hips back with a sole purpose to just ruin her. You’re hearing a slight wheeze out of her, maybe a sob too, the head of your cock’s hit a spot past her threshold where it literally makes her go stupid; mind and body into putty, exactly the way you like it. 
Her fingers continue to hold tight, cunt clenching around your thick shaft when you’ve finally got her past that edge. There’s a bit of a moment of pause when you and her are stacked on top of each other, exhaustion finally breaking through, coaxing her second orgasm as you’re keeping your cock warm inside of her, feeling her hips spaz out of control while you endure in fucking her poor, spent, pretty pussy. Both heels of her feet bend towards the backside of your thighs, pressing her waist into the mattress, sliding yourself out the tightness before teasing her with the half of your shaft. 
“There we go, Haewon. I’ve got you,” you’re telling her. The tone of your voice drowned out by the keening shattering through. “You’re perfect. Cum over this cock, baby. You deserved it.” 
She keeps on sighing when she comes down from her second high, summoning this lazy grin while you’re peppering her face with kisses, an indication for a job well done. But she taps the top of your hand twice, resting at the crease of her hips - and the shimmy of her hips still embedded with your cock tells you only one thing: 
“I wanna make you cum.” 
The insanity this woman has. It does something to you. 
So you waste no time at all. It’s enormously more than just a mess with how fucked up she is. 
When you give her what she needs: flipping on her back was the way to go, yanking her hips back into yours until you see her eyes go wide at the sudden stroke before rolling up behind her head and past her eyelids - everything starts to fall into place with the way the back of her ankles hold your waist, which only leaves you with the sole choice of pounding her so fucking hard that you’d have to hook yourself into the arch of her back where she’ll have no where to go - it’s a position well practiced, your ol’ reliable: firing your cock on all cylinders at a pace so inhuman until she’s able to look you in the eyes and cast a spell for you to finish on her pretty face and leave her there with the damage when it’s all said and done - the assurance that you’ll give her what she wants and have you craving for more - kissing you shamelessly like she’ll be stoned to a rock come the next day, and when you’re feeling the pit of your stomach open more and more, the muscles in your hips and legs moving and tensing in the midst of this sex-filled frenzy, there was only one instinct in your mind where it didn’t take much to pump and dump your load inside her. 
You can feel yourself getting close, head dizzying. “Haewon-” 
“I know, handsome boy,” she praises, pulling you so that your forehead touches hers, “can feel you throbbing down there.” 
She lets out this airy laugh when you wince a bit, hands reined at the small of her back and bringing her waist in, the impact of your cock rebounds her body once the pace starts to decrease. 
“Fill me up, like you always do,” Haewon husks, voice barely a whisper in contrast to your hoarseness, “Put a baby in me.” 
There’s this sort of tension in the air along with your body, driving your cock deep into her, burying your cum into the crevices of her pulsing hotness. Haewon lets out a sigh of relief, telling you to keep cumming inside of her, feeling every hot thread of your release coating her slopped walls. 
You can feel yourself get light-headed - the warmth alone, not to mention how wet and tight her pussy is still, a place where everything feels right - but the lust filled in your head starts to fade, blackened vision returning to normal; and before you know it, you’re coming back to earth. 
Neither of you move a muscle. Instead, you lay there for a bit, taking in the dwindling time of exploring each other’s bodies, holding yourselves together while your lips are conducting one final battle for that last dominance, the stench of sex and sweat still fresh and out to the open air. 
Haewon manages to wrap both of her arms around your neck, kissing the slope of her neck and collarbone, scratching the back of your head, looking up to the ceiling with a lazy smile, one plastered with satisfaction. She taps your shoulder to grab your attention, but all you could come up with was a simple hum, which seemed to be enough for her. 
“Go get me some lemons and water. I owe you a special something and a ride.” 
Morning rolls around not long after, and assessing the lay of the land of your living space with one eye open. Everything seems to be in their place, tv remotes, work bag next to the neighboring desk, and the singular cup on the counter next to the fridge. Another thing to note, Haewon already got a jump start to the day. 
You’re sliding across the floor with said singular cup being put into the kitchen sink, but with the other eye open now, you notice something at the corner of the kitchen island: a small box left open. 
“I wonder what she has for me this time,” you say to yourself, examining the box which turned out to be a contraceptive tablet. A note also slips out with a card attached. 
“Take today off. I’ll be coming over later. By the way, I hope you won’t get mad at me for snatching your little gift from Jiwoo. It was too cute for you to have sitting on your nightstand or coffee table, so I took it for myself. 
p.s 
Don’t worry about last night so much. I had everything thought out since our little ‘accident’ the first time. Can’t really say the same thing with what I said, but you can choose to ignore it…or not ;’)
- Haewon
xo <3” 
The attached card flipped over showed the name of the gacha toy gifted to you. A justified reaction of sighing with rolled eyes and the shake of your head was pretty much the start of some days; but hey, at least the breaks are enjoyable. 
“Sleight of hand my ass,” you mutter, thumbing the small slip of paper in your fingers, “she stole that from me.” 
-
a/n: sending my special flowers to @majorblinks (i love you foreverrr <3), @passingnotions (for happily agreeing to poke around wherever in the draft), and @yieldtotemptation (to opening the floodgates with ur bae fic).
thank you for reading and wemo check. :3
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ghouljams · 1 day ago
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I feel like each of the 141 has a difference preference when dicking down their mate.
Kyle prefers to stay human, it lets him really get a good show while fucking into the pretty thing he managed to take home. Seeing how your skin contrasts to his softly colored sheets is more reassuring to him that you're his than any scenting could be. Also, he's a lighter sleeper as a human, letting him keep you in his bed if you try to slip out while he's asleep.
Price likes the little hint of other, as a sign of his age and experience. He's the only one of the 141 who can shift only a few senses instead of having to start properly shifting. Let's him memorize your scent while fucking you, all so he can let you have the illusion of choice by letting you go and "finding" you again later. Eventually, he'll make it seem like a bit of fate and offer you out on a date.
Ghost partially shifts, and that's the most he can hold himself back when it comes to you. Claws and teeth come out, drool dripping from his maw to your skin. He needs to taste you, to make sure you taste the same. Taste like his.
Soap is a dog and he will fuck you in full transformation because of it. This man needs you on the most primal level, so why not just fuck you at his most primal. It also gives him a better nose to smell your sweat soaked skin, a longer tongue to shove into you, better hearing to catch each and every whimper you make. He needs to consume you and the best way to do that is with his wolf.
At least, that's my thought.
As usual how does it feel to be so fucking right?
Gaz absolutely prefers fucking you as a human, it feels too much like taking advantage of you when he has his semi-transformed strength and the idea of fucking you fully wolf makes him itch a little. He's so worried about damaging you with his claws and fangs :( his poor human mate, he doesn't want to ruin you. We'll, not like that at least. That won't stop him from knotting you, that's a luxury he can't afford not to indulge in. He loves the way you squirm and complain about the stretch, shushing you with soft coos, promising it'll be over soon, even when he knows it'll be a good 20 minutes at least.
Price is old hat at transformations and after years of growing and shrinking it's worn on his joints, if he doesn't have to transform he won't. He'll indulge in the sensed his wolf-form lends him, pressing his nose to your pulse and getting himself drunk on your scent. His eyes are always dark, animalistic, when he drags his flat tongue against your sex, and you worry that the teeth he's hiding might bite too hard, but he hasn't hurt you yet. And the only scare he gives you is when he presses his hand against your come filled stomach talking about pups.
Ghost simply lacks self control around you. The man has the control of a saint, but once he gets drunk on the scent of your arousal it's over for him. He grips you with heavy clawed hands, his skin splitting with fur and his nose starting to lengthen, and it scares you a little. His breathing is uneven, but his hips don't stop moving even when his bones start to break and his joints begin to pop. His drool dripping onto you is the only indication you get before he's sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You'll have to take wolfsbane in the morning if you don't want to end up going through the same pain.
Soap though... Soap fucks you like a dog, literally. He'll hunt you down on a full moon and hold you down with big paws, murmuring canned tones from his open maw about how he can't stop himself. He's all instinct, all panting and howling as he mounts you and ruts his cock against your sex, uncaring what hole he fucks himself into as long as it's yours. He'll lay directly on top of you once he's knotted you too, licking your face in apology but you know he doesn't mean it because he keeps asking for another round.
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fictionfixations · 3 days ago
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this is my first time hearing of this so i dont know if theres like some other context related to this im missing (or if this message just happened out of the blue) but i dont really wanna know either way.
^^^ but all points in this are valid (the reblogged post i mean)
i would like to at least hold out hope that nothing bad happened until it is confirmed (do not ask them what happened, im sure its stressful as it is) but that is not to say that i invalidate the people who spoke up because im sure they have their reasons too but we do not know what happened and we cannot know what (again do not ask what, we are not entitled to that information)
i want to believe in both sides. i don't want to end up being the kind of person who doesn't believe in a victim or is against a person who didn't actually do anything wrong, so im going to be patient and if nothing ever gets said about it thats fine too
do not speculate. what comes out of it could be aiming pitchforks at someone who didn't do what you think they did, or bringing out someone's trauma over something all over again because you want to know or you think oh maybe this could be why so and so happened
this is my own opinion, but id say to withhold any judgment and thought you might have on this until we get a confirmation. this is not to say that you can do whatever you want with this information after, because that is not true at all.
feeling uncomfortable regarding it is valid, im not saying you cant have your own opinions over it, id just prefer it if people could treat this sensitively, and with respect for the other members to not try to find out more then what has been shared, nor overly target people over something you do not have confirmation over
im sorry as ive been repeating points a lot, but ive seen people acting really disrespectfully to all the people involved in something similar to this because they want to know, but they do it with zero regard for the person on the other side of the screen
(this is more referring to people asking those who were friends to that person about it but it was a really bad situation overall, and they were attacking them when they didn't get a response out fast enough without considering that they'd just learned that someone they cared about was a terrible person and needed time to process that. now in this case its not fully confirmed but i really dont want to see that happen again.)
^ updating my response above, as there is a doc with information about what happened which i noticed in one of the comments on the original post. i just wasnt sure if something really bad happened considering the vague statement in the twitter post but considering its been spoken out now of what happened i can safely conclude that hes probably not innocent (understatement). (again, please do not hound the victims nor the hermits on information about this)
i just didnt wanna assume anything. this isnt to say that i didnt trust in what evidence they saw that made them conclude that the accusations were credible, it was just worded in a way that sounded very vague, and as a person who would like to see the goodness in everyone i tend to stay in denial about these kinds of things because i want to believe that they are not that kind of person, at the very least until its either admitted by the guilty party, or theres a credible statement from the victim
also it might feel like im understating things with how i describe them, thats my bad. i usually describe things in swear words but considering hermitcraft has a mainly young audience im trying not to and it also feels a little inappropriate over a serious topic. but it means i default to referring to something as 'bad' or 'not so good' which can come off as like im trying to make it seem not as bad as it actually is which isn't true at all. im just trying to be really careful about how i word things or what i say considering this is a serious topic but it means im not sure how to describe it so i end up going with what i default to outside of swears.
um. also please dont go asking for proof from the people affected nor the hermits cause i really dont think its appropriate and could lead to triggering them further. its also very personal.
i emphasize my point as a person who has also gone through bad things, and trying to look back through those old messages were really triggering and it was just not a good time. i imagine it was rough enough to get screenshots of what they did get so please leave it alone. they went through the trouble of sharing it in public, you are not entitled to more
and i get it might be rough to trust CCs after having your trust broken with one being revealed to be a bad person but PLEASE do not accuse other CCs of the same behavior. they are just as shaken as you that someone they thought they knew could be like that. please leave them alone, thank you.
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PLEASE KEEP THIS IN MIND:
we, as fans, do not have a right to private information. anything shared with us on this is a privilege. please do not abuse it. the cc's could shut down and never talk about it if we overwhelm them.
also, please keep in mind that ONE HERMIT and THE ENTIRETY OF HERMITCRAFT are NOT THE SAME THING. the entire fandom is not 'ruined' or 'completely unsafe' because of the actions of one person.
PLEASE DO NOT ASSUME THAT THE OTHER HERMITS KNEW ANYTHING ABOUT WHATEVER'S GOING ON WITH ISKALL. this is not some big conspiracy, it's the consequences of one person's actions. they weren't hiding this from us, that's not how hermitcraft works, they truly didn't know. they probably knew as much as us about this, so making it an 'us against them' situation is immature and shortsighted.
ALSO, I AM BEGGING EVERYONE TO PLEASE NOT SENSATIONALIZE THIS. PLEASE DO NOT TURN HATING ISKALL INTO A MEME OR A JOKE.
mcyt'ers being revealed to be less-than-great people is not a rare thing, sadly, but i've seen it turned into a joke/meme/trend in other fandoms. this both minimalizes the actual people's/victims' struggles, makes the entire situation feel less serious than it is, especially to outsiders looking in, and makes everyone in the fandom look immature, petty, unable to take anything seriously, and genuinely harmful.
this server, fandom, and community are not dying, it is not ruined forever, this is one (major, i'm not trying to minimalize it) issue that we're currently dealing with. it will be okay. we will move on. this is not the beginning of the end. please calm down. i love this fandom, god bless all of you. <3
edit: doc has said on stream that we will likely get more information as time passes. like i said, this is a PRIVILEGE. we are not OWED information. please be grateful for what we're given, and POLITELY ask questions if you must. if a cc doesn't give you the answer you want, or doesn't answer at all, LEAVE THEM ALONE. THIS IS NOT AN EXCUSE TO HARASS PEOPLE. the hermits are likely just as stressed out as us, if not probably more so, so please keep that in mind when contacting them.
don't freak out, we'll be okay, this is not the end of the world, nor is it the end of Hermitcraft. we will be okay.
second edit: please remember that (at least as far as we know) ISKALL AND STRESS WERE NOT KICKED OR BANNED. THEY LEFT OF THEIR OWN VOLITION.
ALSO!!! VERY IMPORTANT!!!
WE. DO. NOT. KNOW. EXACTLY. WHAT. HAPPENED.
PLEASE DO NOT ASSUME ANYTHING SIMPLY BASED OFF OF OTHER MCYT'ERS PAST ACTIONS/SCANDALS. WE DO NOT KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. WE MIGHT NOT EVER KNOW EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENED. WE NEED TO BE OKAY WITH THAT AND NOT DRAW OUR OWN CONCLUSIONS.
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mintmatcha · 2 days ago
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Inevitable Things : chapter eleven
aizawa x reader fic
cw: aizawa x reader, cisfem reader, office AU, no quirks. CONSULT AO3 FOR FULL TAGGED CONTENT WARNINGS
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Your mom used to tell you that love was a choice that she made every day. She woke up and chose to love your father, chose to put in the effort that a relationship needed, chose to stay by his side through the good and the bad. It was a point of pride to endure at all, a smile slapped on her face. She told you that until he left one night, bags in hand and another woman’s name on his lips. 
After that, love was no longer a choice. It was nights of tears and screaming matches, begging and pleading, obligatory phone calls and visitations out of state. Love was no longer a choice, but a shackle, something that you say at the end of a conversation because you must. Love is a pain you bear because you are human, and someone must hold these feelings you have.
Your mother still wants your father to call her. 
You wait for Touya to come home.
It haunts you all morning, as you twiddle away time before the convention floor opens again. You end up calling your boss with an update, only to chat with him over coffee. His niece is over again - she screams hi into the receiver- and his sister says hello as well. You try to end the call there, but he stays on, asking questions about who you’ve seen and how they've been. The conversation drags, but neither of you seem to mind.
“You aren’t watching Shouta.” It’s an observation, posed as a question. He’s speaking better today- you aren’t sure why. Death ebbs and flows.
“He asked me not to.” The truth feels right at this moment. It doesn’t betray anything changing between you two; Toshinori is probably aware of the tense air between you too. Now, it’s just tense in a different way, a way that makes your toes curl to think about.
“Don’t take it personally,” he says, “Shouta is a very private man.”
More so than you know, Yagi, you think. Aizawa is very different behind closed doors, behind that wall he’s so carefully crafted. You fear you’ve only cracked one layer of him only to uncover a different veneer.
At the end of the call with Toshinori, you let slip a little “Love you.” and he laughs, surprisingly boisterous for his frail lungs. 
“I didn’t mean it,” you try to say.
“It’s okay,” he says once he catches his breath. “I understand.”
 You don’t.
The rest of the morning is spent in your room, pouring over your emails. Technically, the company is on crunch time; your newer model hits the market within two months and panic has set across the office. Everything is ready, technically, but also nothing is; every day is a new little fire, begging to be put out. Being away on a friday was actually a gift, you realize now that you’re scrolling through what you’ve missed. Your inbox is filled with random issues and scheduled meetings for the upcoming weeks. Your DMs are alight with notifications too-- these, less urgent. 
Izuku Midoriya -> are you alive? or did Mr. Aizawa murder you?
Oh, if only he knew how quickly things change.
we're both alive and well somehow <-
Another message comes through, this one in a different tab.
Hizashi Yamada -> I see you online!
Trying to sneak some work in before I get out of bed. <-
Hizashi Yamada -> Send me your room number.
He arrives in less than five minutes. As usual, Hizashi is put together in a respectfully ostentatious way. His all black outfit might be velvet because of how it eats the light, equally matte and shiny all at once. It’s the type of clothing you wish you could pull off-- or afford --but he wears it so easily, with a confidence you could never have. No, you could never so gracefully enter a room and throw off a jacket like some supermodel.
“How was the presentation?” he asks as he flops into bed beside you. It's a different feeling than being next to Aizawa; he’s perched like a girl gossiping during a slumber party, hair tosselled on your silk pillow. You close your laptop and carefully place it aside. There’s no way you’ll be working with Hizashi around.  That was probably his plan all along.
“I didn’t go-- you didn’t go either?” You playfully shove him.  “You're a bad friend!”
“I woke up late.” He shrugs, feigning sympathy with a content smirk. “And had other things to do this morning, if you catch my drift.”
He throws in an unnecessary wink. Your cringe is a reflex- you don’t really mind hearing about Hizashi’s conquests, but it does make you think about last night again. All you did was kiss, but your skin prickles as if you did more, as if you want more. 
And maybe you do. You’ve been tossing the idea around all morning, trying to figure out exactly what you want, not only from the man, but from yourself, but every time you think about it too hard, the image of Touya flashes in your mind, and your thoughts are tumbling once again.
You think of your mother. It used to be your worst fear to become her, but each day that passes, you see more of her in your eyes, in the thinness in  your skin.
“You okay, babygirl?”
He points directly at the space between your eyes, where you’ll one day have the same worried creases your mother has.. “You’ve got a face on your face.”
You try to wipe away whatever he’s seeing, but it clearly doesn’t work. Hizashi looks at you harder, expression especially soft. 
“Oh, yeah, I’m just-” you shrug. Is there a word for what you're feeling? Ennui? Horror? Somewhere in between? “Shaking off a weird feeling.”
“Weird feeling-” Hizashi throws you a wink. “I think we call it a hangover.”
“I’m not hungover--”
Before you can protest, your friend gasps, so violently that you nearly jump out of your skin. He backs up, hand over his heart and jaw dropped to the floor. “Oh my god. Oh my goooooooodddd.”
“What? What? Am I dying?”
“Your neck!” Now he points to you with a fully straight arm, like he’s accusing you of being a witch. You slap a hand over the spot instinctively. “Hello, that’s a hickey!”
Oh. Oh no. You had been too distracted this morning to notice, but apparently Aizawa’s lips have left a mark on you. Heat flushes across your face; a hickey? Who do you think you are? Kaminari? You’ve had a secret for less than 24 hours and it’s already threatening to come out.
“You got laid last night? With who? Where? When? Tell me everything!” Hizashi pushes down in the mattress to bounce himself, jimmying you up and down in the process.
“Well, uh--” You can’t even begin to make something up. The irrational fears start to take over- what if he figures out exactly who’s mouth left that mark? Hizashi’s a whore-- he might know some sort of mouth forensics or something! Or, you don’t know, maybe you still smell like Aizawa, even 
“You dirty dog, is that why you didn’t see Aizawa’s thing?” Your stomach somehow sinks lower. “Because you and Tensei fucked?”
Tensei?
“Tensei?”
“Oh my god, you totally did. You’re all flustered!”
You had completely forgotten the man even existed. Beautiful Tensei Iida, the ‘sexy’ doctor Hizashi wanted you to have… it’s funny how things never work out the way you think they will.
“It wasn’t Tensei!” You scooch away. “And it’s not a hickey!” 
Hizashi sees through that lie. He crawls on his hands and knees after you. “You gotta tell me, please-”
Crap. He’s not going to let this go. Sex and all that comes with it is Hizashi’s catnip; once he’s gotten a taste of it, he’s deranged. 
Telling the truth certainly isn’t an option. You and Aizawa? The absolute nuclear fallout that would hit the office if that came out would be catastrophic. Hizashi can’t keep his mouth shut, so even hinting at what happened last night could be the end of whatever weird thing you and Shouta have, killing it before you can even name what it is. 
And being so close to launch? It could potentially hinder Aizawa’s image--
And your and Touya’s relationship.
“It was someone I met at the restaurant after you left-” Not completely a lie. “We just-- kissed, I guess. I didn’t want to, you know, do more.”
Hizashi kicks his feet in excitement. His shoes are on your bed- gross.
“Good for you, setting boundaries!” he says. “That’s growth!”
He goofs around for just a moment longer before settling.
“Why do you look so sad about it?” He’s quick to say.  “Did they do something?”
“No! No, it was nice, but-” you start. The truth feels heavy, yet silly at the same time. You know the reaction you’re about it get, and yet you say it anyway-  “I don't know, I started to think about Touya this morning and-”
Hizashi’s face falls so hard that you swear you can hear it. His hatred of Touya has never been a secret, but before Touya made his disappearing act, he at least kept his comments to a minimum. With no Touya, there’s no limit to Hizashi’s public loathing.
“I love you. So much.” He takes your hand in his. He’s still on his knees, hunched over you awkwardly, those damn shoes still on the bed. “But thought you were over this shitbag.”
You want to protest. He’s not a shitbag, he’s just having a hard time. He’s not a bad guy, the drugs just make him that way. He’s a good boy underneath all of the troubles, you know it’s true.
But you’ve run out of excuses years ago. All you can say is the truth: “I think I still love him.” 
Compassion contorts your friend’s face. “Oh, girl. Girl. You don’t.”
“Hizashi-” You try to slide away, but he doesn’t let you. 
“He treated you like garbage for years. Years!” The blonde squeezes your hand. “And he wasn’t loyal, he wasn’t safe, he wasn’t kind or sober or-” 
“It's not like he abused me or something.” You say it so quickly that it feels tinny on your lips. Both of you go quiet for a second and Hizashi throws his hands up in surrender. He ducks his head low, not in defeat, but in a humble act, like a dog that’s pushed it’s boundaries a bit too far.  With a sigh, he sits back on his knees, allowing there to be space between you.
“I didn't say that,” he says carefully.  “It doesn't have to be abuse, that doesn't mean it's healthy.”  
There’s a hesitation, then he reaches out his hand again. You don’t take it, but he keeps it there, in the air, waiting for you.
“I just care about you. I know ‘muri and I get a bit too pushy and wild sometimes, but it’s because we want you to have fun for once. We-- we want you to be with someone that makes you feel good-- who thinks you’re the best thing in the world,” Hizashi says. “We want you to get what you deserve and Touya isn’t that.”
A different type of warm runs over you- a watery one, one that stings at your eyes. You aren’t sure where the well of emotion has come from, but it’s there, bubbling just under the surface. You try to sniffle without giving yourself away. 
“Would it be so bad to let yourself move on and try something new?” Hizashi smiles.  “Let yourself have a little fun for once?”
Reluctantly, you take his hand. He squeezes and coos, pulling your hand into an awkward faux-hug, right about his heart.
 “Let yourself have fun, let yourself live.”
“I’m gonna try to try.”
--
The convention itself goes smoothly. More people ask about Yagi, but the word seems to be spreading: he’s not here. He’ll never be here. The air is bittersweet, but Hizashi always recovers it for you. He keeps the conversation flowing back to work and the bed, with much more ease than you’ll ever have.
The only time you see Aizawa  is when he’s in your periphery. He’s in the corner, caught in some conversation with people whose names you’ve already forgotten. Tensei’s by his side, basking in the probable praise, while Aizawa just nods along. The presentation must have gone well, you gather from the attention they’re both getting. That’s both good and bad; the work deserves credit, but Aizawa…
What a heavy secret to carry. What a prominent shame. He didn’t want you to see, but he was okay with all of these strangers ogling him like a science experiment. 
Does that make you more important than those strangers? Or less?
You try to look for an opening to leave, but one never seems to come.
Only once do you catch him staring back at you, his expression too far away to be read. The thump of your heart steps out of rhythm for a moment before you get yourself together.
“I see you eyeing up Tensei,” Hizashi teases. “Are you sure he isn’t your mystery man?”
You deny it, but Hizashi is unconvinced.
----
The three of you finally reunite over dinner. This time, Hizashi swears he will stay the whole time.
This time, you don’t want him to.
You’ve settled into a different booth than you were in last night. Again, the chip basket is empty before Aizawa can arrive. He’s always running late for these things, either through lack of effort or lack or lack of time management. If he didn’t have a presentation tomorrow, you’d be annoyed, but you decide to give the man a break.
Though, you do wonder if you’ll be allowed to see this one. You’ll have to go, right? It’s about your company.
“I still can’t believe you managed to pick up Tensei with Aizawa right there.”  Hizashi leans back into the booth.
“It wasn’t Tensei,” you insist. “And he was distracted.”
“By what?”
You aren’t a quick liar. 
“Some girl.” Or a good one. “They went off together.”
You know you’ve fucked up by the look on Hizashi’s face. He sits up, staring at you from over his glasses with a slack jawed amazement.
“You're lying.” He sits up even more. “You're lying straight to my face right now.”
Fear thrums you so hard that your stomach almost revolts on impact. 
“I’ve never seen Shouta pick up a stranger, ever.” Hizashi throws his hands up in the air for effect. “Never, ever. Not even in college! ”
Looking back, you should have said he was struck by lightning. That would have been more believable. From what you remember, Aizawa doesn’t date very often - or at all. You can’t remember if he’s ever brought someone to a work event or even mentioned a partner.  (Which makes you feel equally bad and… special. Are you an exception to his rule? Are you different? 
…Or, more likely, he’s just a private guy. But you can pretend.)
“Well, uh, I dunno what to say.” You still haven’t come up with a better lie. “Ask him yourself.”
“I will!”
Good. That gives you time to text Shouta and warn him about that shit storm he’s about to enter. The two of you can come up with a lie that makes sense and won’t send Hizashi screaming. Suddenly, you’re grateful that Aizawa can’t show up on time for-
“Again with the chips?”
Fuck!!
As if summoned, Aizawa is behind you, shrugging off his jacket. He’s in the same suit as he was earlier, but a lot more disheveled after making it through the day. The social interaction really took it out of him; no wonder he’s so quiet at the office. You pat the seat next to you and he practically slumps into it.
“Please tell me you aren’t escaping again tonight,” he says to Hizashi.
“Oh, no, I’m not going anywhere, trust me.” That smile sets the whole table on guard. “I have too many questions.”
“If you had questions, you should have shown up to the talk,” Aizawa says. “Which went well, by the way. Thank you for asking.”
“You didn’t give me a chance to ask, asshole.”
“Should have been the first words out of your mouth.”
“Well, sorry, Mr. Sensitive. I didn’t think I needed to stroke your ego today! Should I start singing your praises now, or after we verbally jack you off for a bit?”
“We are in public, Mic, stop talking about jacking off.”
“How was your presentation, oh smart one?”
“It was--”  Aizawa stops himself mid sentence, brow furrowed as he turns directly towards you. “You’re being quiet.”
“Me?” you point to yourself as if you don’t know the answer. The accusation makes your heart race- or maybe it’s those sharp eyes, boring down into you. 
“Why are you being quiet?” he says with an accusatory glare. “What did you do?”
Hizashi erupts into a giggle and the attention is finally turned away from you. 
“I heard that you went home with someone-”
Aizawa’s gaze snaps to you.  It takes effort to press your lips down and keep a neutral expression; anxiety is trilling inside you, high and frail and wild, like a little flute in a marching band finale. The man tilts his head just a bit, eyes sharp and questioning, clearly trying to interrogate you while completely silent.
“Where did you hear that, Yamada?” Aizawa’s tone isn’t flat now. No, it’s pressed, stressed; he thinks you’ve told him everything. You try to gesture with just your eyes -- three normal blinks and wide eyes, like a makeshift morse code. This obviously fails.
“Little miss girl here-” Hizashi waggles his eyebrows and Aizawa’s pupils dilate with fear-  “told you you went home with a stranger from the restaurant.” 
Realization hits Aizawa’s expression, then, relaxation. His whole body turns to you with a belabored sigh. “You little snitch.”  
The smile you’ve been trying to fight erupts across your face.  You burst into a nervous giggle, one that you have to silence with your own hand. This is a dangerous line you’re walking; Hizashi isn’t a stupid guy- he’s going to figure out something’s wrong if either of you slip up.
“It’s true?” Hizashi gasps. “What? You? You?”
“Is it really so weird that I had sex with someone?” Aizawa says.  “You do it all the time.”
“You aren’t a hook up guy!” Hizashi peers from over his glasses.  “You’re a ‘third date and a bottle of wine’ guy!”
“When have I ever had a bottle of wine?”
“Okay, ‘third date and an air of desperation.’ How's that?”
Aizawa  wrinkles his nose and bares his teeth, barking out a canned laugh. “Ha. Ha. Ha. Fuck off.” 
The shorter man sits back in his seat and uses his drink to gesture to you. “Why don’t you harass Miss Hickey over there instead?”
The attention shifts to you for only a moment before Hizashi waves you away with the back of his hand. He shifts forward on to his elbows, directly towards his friend..“She just made out with a guy, I don’t care about that-”
“-Hey!” you object. As if Aizawa isn’t the reason you’re bruised in the first place! The dark haired man is purposefully looking down his nose at you, expression taut. 
“Sorry, but I need every nitty gritty detail of Shouta’s night ASAP. “ Hizashi grinds you back on track.
The two of them have been friends since college, you remember. You’d never really been able to see the connection before; they’re both so different that they almost seem like they’d never mesh, but today they are huddled together like boys, mirroring each other’s movements. You wonder if there were lots of nights like these, gossiping over girls and wild nights.
Did Hizashi know him before the car accident?
“I’ll tell you later, Mic,” Aizawa says.  “After she’s gone.”
It’d be best to stay quiet, but you can’t bring yourself to be purposefully excluded.
“You don’t want to get dirty in front of me, huh?” you tease. Besides, you’d like to see what he comes up with. “I can handle it.”
He doesn’t take the bait. “I’m not a sharer.”
You turn away with a little shrug. “Hm.”
Aizawa almost doesn’t respond. The gears turn behind his eyes, slowly grinding away at his patience until he grits out a little: “What?” 
His knee bumps into yours under the table. It’s fleeting, but there. 
“I was just thinking-” you start. “Maybe you’re a bit of a coward.”
“Coward?” he replies.
“Afraid to gossip-” 
It’s Aizawa’s turn to huff. “Gentlemen don’t gossip.”
“Since when are you a gentleman?” Hizashi barks out a laugh.
With another exhale, Aizawa closes his eyes. A moment, then another passes, before he opens them again, one brow raised. It’s the same expression a teacher would give to the class after too much clownery. No wonder the interns are terrified of the man, you’d be scared too if you weren’t so excited to see where this is going. 
“You really want me to tell you what I did last night?” He’s deadpan. “Really?”
Both of you nod. 
“Fine.” He throws his hands up in defeat.  “I met this woman at the bar. Bought her a cocktail-”
“What kind of cocktail?” you interject.
“What?” Aizawa stares at you, lip curled in frustration. You’re making lying harder and you know that, but excitement is driving you forward. The risk doesn’t outweigh the reward quite yet. “I don’t know- something sweet.”
“Hm.”
“Margarita. The spicy kind. She tasted like it all night.”
Aizawa is alarmingly good at lying. He does it with a straight face, minus the telltale curl of his lip, but Hizashi doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy sitting on the edge of his seat. You’re still trying to reconcile all of the versions of him inside your head: the work version, the ‘lover’ you met, and this lackadaisical liar. 
“Keep going.” Hizashi urges.
“Then we went back to her room. Didn’t even make it to the bed.”
The way he lays down each word is slow, meticulous, purposeful; the narrative he builds is crafted especially for you, but you aren’t quite sure of his goal. 
“ Is that enough detail?”
“Boo-” Hizashi’s fanning the flame now too. “Not the fade to black storytelling!”
Aizawa ducks in close, resting on his forearms as he talks. His gaze flicks between you and Hizashi, but lingers much longer on you, flickering down to your lips every now and again. His timbre drops lower, gritty, rolling as he whispers. 
“We went back to her room-”
You’re watching his mouth a bit too intensely. 
“- I got on my hands and knees-”
He enunciates it slowly, so neither of you miss a moment. A shiver goes up your spine. There’s a weight to his breath, a genuine enjoyment. Would he get on his knees for you?
“And I  begged to eat her out.” 
He’s proud of it. Oh, he would get down for you. He’d plead for the privilege. His leg brushes against yours again, this time with pressure and purpose, and your skin crawls with excitement. It’s just a story. You know it’s not true. 
But the glint in his eye says that he wishes it wasn’t.
“And?” your voice shakes a bit. That’s his goal, isn’t it? To get you riled up? To make you regret forcing him into this situation?
Aizawa rubs the spot where his jaw connects with a slow, purposeful circle, like he’s trying to rub out a kinked muscle. It’s borderline boastful. “And that’s how I spent the night.”
Hizashi tips his head back and laughs so loudly that the table next to you stares. “Good for you!”
“Good for her,” Aizawa replies.
Hizashi rolls his eyes. “I almost forgot you’re a munch. It’s been so long since you’ve gotten any, so-”
“Watch it, Hizashi.”
You regret the question before you ask it. “Uh, what’s a munch?”
Both of them look at you.
“Well, it’s clearly not Touya,” Hizashi mumbles, and you shoot him a glare. 
“It’s a slang term for someone who really enjoys…” Aizawa trails off, cocking his head expectantly. 
“Eating pussy,” Hizashi finishes for him. 
Another thrill of excitement goes up your spine. Enjoys it? Is that even possible? The idea has you woozy. 
“Yeah, that’s totally not Touya,” you manage to say.
Hizashi makes another comment, but you can’t force yourself to focus on that. No, not when your heart is beating like this. It’s just words, a fake story, but there’s a silent promise to it as well. You wonder what would have happened last night if you said yes. Would he have spent the night between your legs, eating simply for your pleasure?
Want trembles in your hands as you pretend to check your phone. Is it pathetic? To be worked up over a silly little story, made up to cover your tracks? The waiter comes, you all order. Aizawa’s knee pumps against yours- once accidentally, once on purpose. You hope he doesn’t notice how you’re squirming in your seat, trying to ignore the way your body is craving pressure and attention. You think, maybe, if you move right, you could get the seam of your pants to hit just right-
What are you doing? This is pathetic. 
“I’m going to go to the bathroom.” You don’t wait for a response. Pushing up from the table, you turn down the back of the restaurant. The signs lead you into a little back hallway, tucked by the kitchen, where the lighting is respectfully dim. You have to wait a moment because the door is locked, but you don’t mind. It gives you time to mull over everything.
Maybe Hizashi is right; maybe it’s okay to try something new. It’s been years since you’ve felt this alive with someone, this excited to get something more. With Touya, sex became more of an obligation. Maybe it could be different with someone else. Maybe it could be something fun, something-
A hand catches you by the back of your shirt, not hard enough to yank you backwards, but firm enough to stop you in your tracks.  A gasp squeaks out of you as you stagger back into the chest of the man behind you. You crank around to see- only to relax when you realize it’s just Aizawa.
“You scared me,” you mumble out a lament. 
“You little sneak.” With a thumb, he tilts your chin up, so far that you’re looking back at him. His other fingers press ever so nicely into the length of your neck, drawing you back into his chest. There’s nothing constricting your breath, but suddenly your lungs are empty, breathless, and your parted lips pull nothing in. Aizawa’s dark eyes are narrowed, boring straight down into yours.
Oh, he’s pissed. 
And, for the first time, that excites you.
“You like making me sweat, don’t you?” His free hand is looped around your waist, holding you much tighter than the other. “Almost getting us caught-- You make me so mad sometimes.” 
The kitchen is full of mumbled orders and the clang of dishware. It echoes through the dark hall you’ve trapped yourselves in, you aren’t alone, no matter how badly you wish it to be true.  
“Thought you liked me,” you whisper.
You swear there’s a subtle dilation to his eyes, involuntary. Real. “I do.”
He leans over and dots a simple kiss on to your forehead, right where your hair meets skin. It’s simple, soft, but, god, it sets everything inside you into this wet, wobbly, needy heat, something soft and harsh all at once.
“Even when you piss me off.” The hand around your neck twitches playfully, with no real constriction. 
It’s cliche, you think, how you just sort of watch each other, breathless, patient. Neither of you tries to make a move, locked together. He smells good. Not like anything you can name, just… good.  It’s the same good you feel in your chest and an equal good to how your hands feel when you reach backwards and grab his hips. 
“I’m starting to think you like making me mad.”
“Shouta-” you say his name because he likes it, because it makes him lean in closer to you-
The bathroom door flies open and you both pull away like you’ve touched a hot stove. The woman who exists definitely knows something’s up; she rolls her eyes and sends a text on her phone as she passes. The two of you share a look; you, relieved, Aizawa amused. It’s as if you're sixteen again, with this fluttering feeling in your stomach you can’t quite swallow down. It’s too bright to be anxiety.
Aizawa steps back a bit with a nod. Oh, right, the bathroom. You don’t actually have to go, but it would be silly to not go in now. Maybe you can just try to go-
You look back at your Aizawa.
Or maybe.
Or maybe you can have some fun.
With uncharacteristic confidence, you hook a finger under a button of his shirt and tug. Aizawa’s face goes bright with realization. He falls into following as you guide him forward into the bathroom, step by awkward step, backwards until the door opens against your weight. Aizawa glances around before the door closes after him, making sure to remain unspotted, then turns to you with a wicked, narrowed, glowering look. 
The bathroom is simple, but nice. The lighting is sharp and bright, the floor is white and clean. A decorative table is wedged into the corner, topped with extra towels and real flowers in water. Your brain can’t process more than that- not with a dark haired man wrapped around your finger. He has the forethought to lock the door behind him.
“What are you doing-?” he grumbles wickedly, ducking down to catch you in a kiss, but you don’t let him make contact. You dip away, drawing him further and further in, until you’re backed against the little decorative table. With his weight, he shifts you back until your ass is seated properly on that wiggly table, one hand back to brace yourself. Finally, he traps you, stubble rough against your cheek, lips soft against yours.
“I thought we were going slow,” he says into your lips. You don’t respond-- you can’t. Your breath is stolen from your lungs, the need to breathe replaced with the need for him, the need for touch-
You hook a leg over his waist and his hand flies to it, folding it higher, pulling it tighter. 
“Oh, you can’t help it, can you?” he mumbles. “One little story about eating pussy has you desperate for it, huh?”
“Y-you-” You hate that you can’t dirty talk smoothly like he can.
“Yeah?” He’s almost condescending. “Yeah? What does my girl want?”
Embarrassment floods your cheeks with heat. Aizawa waits for it, hovering above you. Oh, he won’t give it to you until you really ask, will he? You have to physically brace yourself to say it.
“Will you kiss it?” you ask, much meeker than intended. 
“Kiss ‘it’?” You expect him to keep picking at you, but instead his hands are busy unbuttoning your pants, guiding them down. “Do you mean-”
His lips find your hickey and the spot aches under the connection. “Here?”
Creeping lower, he hunches over your chest. This time, he pecks at the hem of your shirt. “Here?”
Down he goes, on to his knees. This kiss lands in your stomach, right where the tightness of want sits-
“Here?”
“Shouta-” You’re mad and annoyed and you’d frankly settle for him kissing you anywhere at this point-
Hands slip your pants down past your knees. When the air hits your skin, you suddenly realize just how wet you are, how it’s bled through your panties and smeared across your thigh. Before you can process anything, his mouth is over your clothed cunt, wide mouthed and kissing. The drag of his tongue is a lot, even though the fabric; the contact has your spine flexing all on its own.
“Here?”
“There, there,” You’re clinging on to handfuls of his hair already. “Right there.”
But Aizawa doesn’t kiss you again. 
“In a public bathroom?” He’s watching you from the floor. Your leg is looped over his back. He’s surprisingly wide and thick under you; your legs have to spread so far to fit him. God, your body is plaint enough that it just gives to his pushing hands and demands.
 “You like it nasty.”
You can’t bring yourself to respond. Your brain is fried with a deadly combination of horny and embarrassed. Is this really what you want? 
“No, you don’t like it dirty, do you?” It feels like he’s reading your mind, hands kneading your thighs with a growing hunger. He plants a kiss where your legs meets your underwear and your cunt pulses in response. “My girl just needs it so bad, doesn’t she?”
Teeth sink into your inner thigh and you kick in response: another fucking hickey. The thing that got you into this mess-
“That’s right, my girl.” He’s talking to himself now, mumbling just under his breath. A finger loops under your panties, the same way your finger looped under his button, and there’s no time to feel shame before he exposes your pussy.  “You went home with me.” 
You expect him to go straight for your clit, to devour you with the fucking need that’s been building between you all goddamn night-
But, instead, he touches his lips to the crest of your mons and breathes. It’s hot, molten, pours down you like molten lava. It’s the faintest, tickling touch, but it’s enough, it’s more than enough. A moan rips out of you, so unexpected that you jump at your own voice. 
Usually, when you have sex, you’re worried about the small things. Whether or not you’ve shaved, whether you look thin enough or pretty enough, but now, the only thing you can think about is being touched, needing touch, desiring touch.
And the time.
“We-” He hasn’t even started and you’re quivering for it. “We gotta hurry before Mic-”
“I promised you-” Aizawa says, firmly. “That we’d go slow.”
Finally, gloriously, you feel the hot press of his tongue, dragging up through your excitement. Every inch he takes is painstakingly slow until he hits the nub of your clit. That contact is fast, fleeting, but it still sends you keening and gasping. Every important muscle inside you is bunched and coiled, filled with enough potential energy to set the whole fucking restaurant on fire. You’re going to cum. You’re going to cum from practically nothing.
The vase of flowers on the table is overturned. You don’t even remember knocking it over. Water pools under your ass and everything is wet, from you, to the mess, to his drool across your inner thigh. His mouth closed over you the same way someone would eat a peach, sucking with this absurdly lewd sound as if he’s afraid to let any of your excitement escape. His jaw moves slow - just like he fucking promised- and doesn’t miss an inch of skin as he closes his mouth, lips coming closed around your clit. The pressure feels heavenly against the already puffy parts of your pussy and your hands clasp his dark locks tighter. You aren’t sure if you’re trying to pull him away or pull him closer; your body is just reacting, like neurons are firing all on their own.
Fingers clamp around your thighs. Aizawa is groaning, voice so low it vibrates against you, as if he’s the one receiving it, not you. Enjoys eating pussy… the memory rings through your skull. Fuck, what an understatement; he eats pussy like he needs it to live. His eyes are lidded heavy with pleasure. Every lick and suck and touch along the tapestry of your cunt is wet and wild, but aggravatingly skilled. The heat of his mouth against your clit - firm, but not hard- is enough to steal your breath away.
Then, he pulls away, and your pleasure begins to unravel-- unfairly fast. You hadn’t realized how close to the precipice you had been until you started falling away. The feeling is disastrous. 
He speaks with a heady exhale, warm and not nearly enough. “You taste-”
“Shut up,” Now you’re definitely pulling his face back towards you this time. “Shut up, shut up, shut up-”
He silences himself with your cunt. 
This time, there’s no savoring. His lips and tongue are on your clit, sucking in mouthfuls of your folds, bouncing against the involuntary roll of your hips. Everything inside you is hot and sticky, thick like honey. You’re saying something, maybe, but it’s all high pitched and garbled. The rub from Aizawa's stubble sends a chill up your spine and the hot and cold inside you melts into something smooth-
You can feel your orgasm coming long before it hits, everything inside you pulling high and tight, like the ocean rolling before a wave. The crest hasn't hit, but it's going to come, you're going to cum-
And then you look down, and Aizawa's staring back at you, with those dark, hooded eyes, and you unravel. It’s not my other orgasms you've had: a full body feeling, like the flush to warmth you get when alcohol hits your stomach. It rolls, through you, away from you, against you- in every fucking direction until every ounce of tension is smoothed from your muscles. Boneless had always sounded silly, but now you understand exactly what it means; you slump back and try to catch your breath.
Aizawa’s movements slow, but never stop. He runs the flat face of his tongue against you until you gather the energy you shove him back. For a split second, a string of your cum ties between you and his mouth.
“Shit,” you breathe. Your surroundings feel more tangible suddenly. The sink drips, the walls echo the restaurant’s soft muzak, Aizawa’s cheeks glimmer with your wetness: it’s all suddenly real.
“I cannot believe-” He wipes his face on his sleeve.
“Shit,” you repeat. That was insane. You were insane! Your friend is waiting at the table, probably wondering what happened to you two-
“-that you let me do that. You came so--”
“Shit.” This is exactly what you needed. “I’ve never-”
Aizawa sits back on his knees with a stiff grunt. “Don’t tell me you’ve never orgasmed before.”
“No! I’ve totally-” You awkwardly shimmy up your pants and instantly regret it. It’s wet. It’s cold. “No one’s ever gone down on me before.”
Aizawa gives you the slowest, longest blink you’ve ever seen. Then, he shakes his head and stands up, brushing his pants off. You debate asking if his leg hurts, but decide against it. “How do you continuously say things that make me want to go insane?” 
He huffs about it, but you’re starting to unravel the strings of affection he weaves into his sentences. You shrug, biting back your smile.
“I’m just special, I guess.”
Eyes closed, he gives you a nod, tempering himself.
“Go back to the table before we’re caught.”
Fuck-- that’s right. You two have been gone for long enough that it's starting to get suspicious. Besides, there’s going to be a line outside the door if you don’t get moving soon- if there isn’t a line already. You quickly check your outfit and adjust your hair in the mirror; your skin looks brighter than usual. The power of an orgasm, you guess.
“Don’t  you want me to…?” You give a little jerk off motion and Aizawa rolls his eyes at the behavior-- as if he didn’t just eat your pussy in a fucking bathroom.
“I don’t want you to do anything to me,” he insists. He helps you off of the table with a hand, then ushers you towards the locked door. “I want to lay you down and eat you out until your brain factory resets like a cheap Macbook.”
He’s already done that, but okay, you could be down for more-
“But we are in a bathroom.” He gestures around him.  “In a restaurant.”
You add: “With Hizashi waiting.”
“With Mic waiting. He’s smart- he’ll figure us out if we aren’t careful,” he agrees. “Now, get out there and cover me.”
Suddenly, Aizawa leans over and kisses you. It’s not deep, but you can taste your musk on his lips and that makes your spine thrill with excitement.  It’s illicit in a way that makes you feel young and happy and, and, and-
And all those weird, indescribable highs you get when your brain is drowned in dopamine and oxytocin. For a fleeting moment, you reach out and grab his hands, holding on for only a squeeze.
“Your room tonight?” you ask when he pulls away. Your head is still racing, head still swimming-
He grimaces. “Yours has better pillows.”
“I brought them from home.” He was in your bed last night, in your pussy moments ago, but the fact he knows your pillow feels so strangely intimate. “I like silk pillowcases.”
The expression in his face softens, just at the crowed corner of his eyes. “Of course you do.” He jerks his chin towards the door.  “Get going.”
“Sho-”
“Get.”
And you walk out with wobbly knees.
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cherie-doll · 2 days ago
Note
Hellu, could you maybe do a drabble or hc or whatever you feel comfortable with, of the cod men reacting to reader being in a car crash??
(I was just in a car crash, my head hurts, I’m coping 💀)
If not then that’s okay ❤️❤️
my goodness, are you okay dear?? ૮ ㅇㅁㅇ ྀིა
𓏲 Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto
🝮 Price finally got some downtime to rest and catch up on his sleep debt at home. You insisted he stay home while you go to the grocery store only a few blocks away. Now imagine how his body tenses and he's up from the recliner in a heartbeat the moment he receives the phone call about your accident. He's supposed to drop the tense and hard face off while he's at home with you but this is worse. He's trying to keep calm on the surface but a can of worries within, just wanting to spill out. Thankfully, the accident didn't result in fatalities nor major injuries. He's holding you and checking you all over, listening to everything you're saying. Does something hurt? Feel dizzy? Need water? He's taking you right home, don't worry about the wrecked car.
🝮 Simon's mood when he picks up the phone initially is that he's annoyed, his answering "yes?" is a little sharp because you had just had a small argument over him once again not paying attention to the list of items you insisted he take when grocery shopping but didn't. So now you had to pause everything and go get the thing yourself, which means he'd have to wait at least another hour before he could eat dinner. Your voice over the phone was weak and scared, your frail voice that barely answered because your mind was all over the place and fading. You couldn't think straight after the crash. Simon dropped everything and staying on call with you made it faster than the cops would've. He carried you out of the car and cradled your body in his arms even in the ambulance, all the while muttering lowly how reckless you could be and how stupid and idiotic he was for letting you drive while mad. He swears he'd never let it happen again.
🝮 Johnny wasn't expecting you to answer with "was in a car crash" to "how was your day?" Like why are you telling him just now that you're arriving home. He gets off the couch he's by your side in an instant. Why didn't you call him? Because you thought it was nothing big? He almost thinks you're bluffing, why he can't help but assume the worst or imagine a terrible accident. You're sitting down this instant and- did you go to the hospital? And if you did he's surprised they just let you walk out. You argue back that you barely got a bruise but he insists you're going again and getting an examination done just in case. You have to tell him these things else he'll have a hard time letting you go out alone again.
🝮 The only thing Kyle knew was that you'd be hanging out with friends. And that's how it was supposed to be, he could expect you to come home late in the evening or maybe nearing night. But the clock marked the midnight hour and you hadn't walked through the front door yet; very unusual of you. He paced the living room from one wall to the other, he had the right to be worried so he wasn't being a controlling nor clingy partner if he just wanted to know where you were past midnight. The worry only increased when he called and it went straight to voicemail. Okay, maybe your phone died. And he kept trying to come up with plausible reasons as to why you weren't home yet when the bell rang and he threw the door open to a distressed looking friend of yours explaining the car accident you had been caught up in. You were conscious when taken away but in pain, your friend was still explaining this when Kyle grabbed his shoes and was already walking to the driveway.
🝮 Roach and you frequented bars pretty often and usually took a cab home. You hadn't had more than one drink however and decided to drive home while he dozed off in the backseat. He woke up to the sound of tires screeching and before he could make out what was happening his body was jerked and thrown forward. Groaning and rubbing his neck he called your name only for you to weakly respond. A soft gasp left his lips followed by his fingers reaching out to the bleeding gash, blood staining his fingertips. When he called emergency services and had you taken to the hospital, the cops has questioned how the accident happened and he was ready to take the blame on insisting you drive despite both having consumed alcohol. He knew there wasn't any other believable lie he could sputter, surely the one drink you'd had would show up on the tests.
🝮 Alejandro didn't think it'd ever happen to you. An accident bad enough that you had to be taken to the hospital? He's there as fast as he possibly could get there. He ignores the nurses who are trying to tell him that you're okay for the most part, just a little shaken. But he's checking you all over and almost loses it when he sees a bruise, demanding for the doctor. It takes you forcibly holding him back and holding his head so he can meet your eyes and see that you're fine, you're not in severe pain. From now on you're not driving anywhere alone because he doesn't another scare like that to happen again.
🝮 Rudy is worried sick when you insisted on driving the last stretch of the way home, at night too. Your driving skills are passable during the day but at night it can be difficult to tell from the high beams of other car's lights flashing at you. When you tried braking at a stop sign you saw last minute, due to the ice already forming on the road the car didn't come to a complete stop and nearly skid off the road. His hand instinctively reaches across to hold against your body, making sure you don't fly forward despite you having the seatbelt on. It's just instinct for him to protect you in every situation. He gets off, running over to your side and the time doesn't matter anymore. He'll sit out on the hood of the car however long you need to recover from the close call until you're ready to go back home. Except he's not letting you drive.
🝮 Phillip was waiting at a second location for you to come pick him up after his car was getting fixed for something. He wouldn't have bothered you but the repair shop was half an hour drive away, something was just bound to happen. And he doesn't realize this because his mind is so preoccupied with the petty shop owner over what was the problem with his truck that when his phone rings and he picks up he sounds a little mad, not at you though. Soon he hears a dispatcher's voice instead of yours his mind goes to the worst place. Don't know where he gets the car from but he's speeding down the highway praying that you're fine and he gets to you. But he gets there and sees you sitting on a strip of grass off to the side of the mess and holding an ice pack to your head.
🝮 Makarov is hiring a chauffeur to drive you everywhere and anywhere you need from here on out and finding out who was the idiot who rammed into the back of your car while at a stoplight. He can't believe you didn't ask the other driver for their information, doesn't matter though, he'll get the information later. Maybe you should quit going out altogether, no? Okay it was worth a try, whatever you want. From now on you have to promise to not ever get into an accident ever again. "How am I supposed to control tha-"
🝮 Keegan didn't freak out after you told him you just veered off the main road and were now stuck in some rundown road. He calmly gathered whatever tools he thought he might need and started his truck. The scene he encounters when he arrives is somewhat off, you're waving him over, sitting on the hood of your car with a sheepish smile. He walks around the car and finds the dent on the side and back of the car. And before he can ask what the hell happened- shit, you're bleeding? You're going to have to start from the beginning if you don't want him ignoring your requests and taking you to the emergency room instead.
🝮 König left the car parked with you waiting for him in the passenger seat, and when he came back he sees his car in pieces, absolutely destroyed from a car speeding off the road and ramming into the side. He panics, tries to pry the door open to get to you, even breaks a window before you're tapping him from behind. "I'm right here" He turns around, lifts you off the ground and lets out a sigh of relief. He seriously thought he would have to search through the wrecked car for you. How had you even gotten out? You saw stray cat and got out before the car had been hit. But now you have to be the one worrying over König's hand and forearm which has glass embedded.
🝮 Horangi blames himself for the car crash. He wanted to teach you to drift because you'd seen how he does it and you're eager to nail it too. Things escalate rather quickly and it's no longer a smooth Saturday drive when you loose control and drive off the road, the tires slipping onto the grass and slamming sideways into a tree. He's holding your head, not knowing if you're got knocked out unconscious or not, but his mind doesn't fully register the bigger dent is on the rear doors not the driver nor passenger side. With one hand he's holding your head to his chest, his other shaky hand attempting to dial emergency services, feeling faint himself before you come to and look around confused. He's grabbing your face in his hands looking you all over making sure you didn't receive a single bruise.
🝮 You assumed Nikto would be cross if he saw the state his car was in. He was hesitant to let you drive out alone knowing you still went a little hard on your turns and it had been raining frequently. The moment he arrives, you're fixed on his eyes, carefully determining whether he's already thought of what he'd do to you the moment he saw the disaster his car was. But you're surprised and speechless when he strides over to you, silently looks you over, barely assesses the car and just picks you up. "Aren't you mad?" "About what?" "Your car!" And he barely glances at it, shrugs and drives you home.
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you-know-honey · 2 days ago
Text
Green Vibes
Viktor x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 4k
Viktor is on the verge of collapse because of work, so you will “prescribe” him an unconventional method.
Warning: Mention and use of drugs (Weed). Sexual tension (I don't know if it counts, judge for yourself)
N/A: English is not my native language, feel free to correct me in the comments and I will update it. Remember to share if you liked it.
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Translation of the request: The reader shows Viktor the joints
You bent down to pick up the twelfth crumpled ball of paper that rolled across the floor to throw it in the trash can.
As an assistant it was your duty to help with the less interesting tasks of being a visionary inventor. And that meant keeping things tidy and clean.
Which used to be the biggest burden, Jayce was a master at leaving important things lying around, his desk was always full of papers, notebooks, screw and bolts.
It was like being his babysitter, once he left at nightfall, you stayed to tidy up.
You wanted to go home and… try a new ‘relaxant’ you had bought, but it seemed like that would have to wait. Or maybe not…
Viktor always stayed too late at the lab, so while you cleaned up and complained about the mess of Jayce, he was always there, silent or chatting a little with you when he decided to take a break, something very rare for him.
But now he was really focused, mumbling things that aren't so nice to hear while writing in his notebook, then he got upset and hit the table a little before tearing off the sheet and throwing it to the floor. He's been like this for the last few hours, it seems like he could burn everything down if his formulas don't start making sense soon. It's weird to see him like this, normally he's someone who could have infinite patience, you suppose he has it with everyone except himself.
You approached his desk discreetly, as if you were tidying up a bit. You carry with you your usual relaxed energy, maybe you could spread some of your spirit to him.
"Viktor!" your shout surprised him, making his back tingle like a cat's "You look like you're about to pop a vein, are you okay?" they say with a soft smile.
Viktor guides his gaze from your hands on his desk to your face, you look at him with a calm smile, as if you hadn't just almost stopped his heart, it's always like that, there's no other way you could smile at him and if you think back he's the only person you really smile at.
He answers with a snort, rubbing his temples.
“Of course not. If I was this dam- prototype would work” he refrained from saying a rude thing, you knew him, for him, saying a rude thing meant he was losing his composure and that was something he never did “I'm starting to think that magic is more logical than science.”
He sighed, showing that he was quite exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes supported that conclusion. His thin hands combed his hair as if that would refresh his ideas before falling on his desk again.
That squeezed your heart a little and made a curious idea cross your mind, reflected in a malicious smile.
You let your hands wander across the desk, between the open papers and notebooks, to Viktor’s hands that were clenched into fists. “What you need is not more work. You need to relax…”
Viktor's body was the victim of a shiver when he felt your fingers approach his hand, his heart skipped a beat when he felt how your fingers tried to loosen their grip on his fist and finally succeeded. He tried to stay still, as if the slightest movement would push you away like a little bird, his gaze followed each of your movements in his hand, caressing his palm and playing with his fingers.
Was he surprised by your attitude? Yes. It was something he had never expected from you. You used to play little jokes on him, like shouting his name or throwing a pencil on the floor to get him out of his almost absolute concentration but... touching him? That was new. Sure, you were the secretary of both of them but you always had to run after Jayce because he was like a clueless child, even Viktor knew that. With him you weren't like that at all, you always gave him his space and kept your distance all the time. That had always made him feel uncomfortable, like he didn't belong to whatever was forming when you and Jayce were together, like he was a sour shadow life to the sidelines of happiness.
“Can I help you with that?” you asked in a whisper.
“I guess so…” He seemed nervous and that increased even more when he felt your hand go up his arm to his shoulder, where with both hands you did small massages on his shoulders and neck. You used to give Jayce massages when he was frustrated and a part of Viktor had always felt a little jealous of that, although he didn't want to admit it, it seemed unfair to him, Jayce had Mel and he really didn't get tired of talking about how wonderful she was and yet he also had you, always fluttering around him, always laughing with you, always accepting your merely friendly touch, always...always making you smile...he wants that.
He couldn't help but gasp when the pressure on his body began to disappear, his body was also enjoying it, after all it was the first time he could feel your touch beyond accidental brushes. He was grateful that you were behind him, he was sure that if you could see his face he couldn't hide how much he was enjoying it.
You looked over your shoulders at your bag hanging on one of the racks next to the door, next to Viktor's jacket. It was time to take advantage of that small purchase. You slid your hands to his neck, massaging even under his hair, making your way and disarranging his shirt in the process until you touched his warm and soft skin. Viktor's hand quickly went in search of his cane, when a shiver ran through him from head to toe with force, the emptiness in his lungs reminded him that he should breathe. But even with that wave of emotions, what he felt the most was the absence of your hands on him.
He quickly turned in his chair to look for you, his eyes traveling around the lab until he saw you near the entrance.
“No…” he muttered to himself as he grabbed his cane and let his shoulder rest on it, hurrying to get to you, but when he had you in front of him the words got stuck in his throat. “Are you leaving already?” he asked, it was the only thing his nervous mind had been able to formulate.
You turned back to face him, hiding something in the palm of your hand, a playful smile spread across your face as you shook your head. “No, I just came… to get something.”
“Oh…” he felt like an idiot, there was no lie that could justify him basically going after you like a lapdog. So he just stayed silent looking for something that would draw his attention more than the shame he felt and he found it, in your hands. “What are you trying to hide?” He asked at your poor attempt to hide what you were carrying in your hands. That helps him regain his composure and look you in the eyes again with confidence.
“It’s a secret” your tone is playful as you dodge him, close enough to smell his coffee and caramel aroma. Your movements are full of grace, even when you bring an extra chair to his desk and push his research away with a slight carelessness.
He can’t help but compare you to a dancing nymph, the air that sneaks through the open window and the bright moonlight support that idea in his head, he doesn’t even mind that some of his papers fly in the wind to his feet, he feels it as if they mark a path to you. Viktor doesn’t hesitate for a moment to return to his desk, shaking his head as a shy smile crosses his face, he can’t help it, it’s what you provoke in him.
He lets himself fall on the seat in front of you, your body shivers with the friction of the metal device on his leg against your knee, he seems to notice it and self-consciously takes a little distance, but you used your foot to work his chair into place before basically having him on the other side of the desk.
“Are you ready to try something really relaxing?” You ask excitedly.
Your gaze is unmistakably on him, finally, his mind screams excitedly and he hides it very well with a nervous movement of his good leg.
“What is that?” He asks finally, he's not good at enduring mysticism.
You open your hands with the same excitement as a circus tent opens to show an endless number of wonders. There's a yellow metal box with rainbow stickers and happy faces painted with marker. Inside there was a green mass and another brown compacted, a lighter, small filters and small papers.
You laughed a little at his attitude. “It's a relaxation method. You're going to like it. Well... maybe not, but you have to try it.”
Viktor massages his chin while he analyzes everything, he has that skeptical look full of curiosity again, you can see the nuts and bolts in his mind turning.
“It's weed.” you confess, his eyes widen and search your gaze quickly, his eyes reflecting surprise. “Oh come on Viktor, what is science if not experimenting with new things? It counts as research.” The tone in your voice is playful, as if you're amused by the situation.
“What effects does it have?” If there was one thing Viktor never dabbled in, it was drugs. Even with his illness, he never thought about trying them. Not because he didn't know about them, they just didn't spark his interest. "I didn't know you were on drugs..." he murmurs, feeling a little foolish, he didn't consider you to be close friends so it's not like you had to tell him about it. A thorn of jealousy stung him when a voice in the back of his mind mentioned that maybe Jayce did know that and many other things about you.
"I don't, it was... a recent purchase, I just know that they relax you and make you feel really good for a few hours." You sigh and rest your head on your outstretched arm on the desk. "Do you want to try it? I mean, we can try it together if you want..." you say as your hand plays with a pencil near you. You don't want to look him in the eyes, you fear meeting a stern look and a big reproach.
"Sure, why not." was his answer, simple and perhaps a little nervous.
“This is going to be fun.”
Viktor watches you carefully as you roll the joint, studying your every action. He watches your hands take the thin, almost translucent paper that shines a little under the moonlight, watching it spread between your fingers as you make sure the sticky side is facing up and out. He look at your hands, soft and the shiny rings on them, and only one thought escapes you.
“I’d like to feel them…”
“What?” you reply to such an unexpected comment.
“Nothing,” he quickly says. “I was rambling,” he tries to justify himself, and you seem to believe him for a second.
“Okay…” Your movements were nervous, caused by the intensity of his gaze, making you more and more nervous about being the center of his absolute attention this time. You delicately crumble the buds. The sticky texture of the resin tried to stick to your fingers, releasing an earthy aroma, you take a bit of tobacco and crumble it up and let it rest on the grass. You take a small little filter and place it on one end. With agile fingers you lift the paper and begin to shape it, making sure everything is well distributed, you roll the paper and Viktor’s soul seems to leave his body when he sees you licking the edge before sealing it with a clean movement. His thoughts are reflected on his face as a faint blush spreads across his cheeks and his Adam’s apple rises shakily.
You offer him the finished joint with a satisfied smile, you hoped you had done all the steps right. Viktor takes it delicately, as if he had just witnessed a sacred ritual.
“What exactly is in it?” he asks, hoping the answer will take his attention away from his own thoughts a little.
“Weed, tobacco, patience…and the desire to share” You joke as you take out the lighter and put everything in the box, before hiding it in one of the drawers of his desk.
Viktor plays with the joint in his hand for a while, examining it. “Should I put it in my mouth?” he asks as you nod softly.
“I’ll light it” you move your chair closer to him, just a few centimeters from each other, you take the lighter from the table and bring it close to his face, with the glow of the flame you can clearly see his blush and how straight he is in his seat “Relax, I’m not going to set you on fire.” you murmured with a soft laugh. He didn’t answer, he just brought his face closer to you, not to the flame of the lighter, your body paralyzed at such a reaction, it was you who brought the flame closer to him and gently lit the joint.
Viktor's first drag was a tragedy in itself, he coughed as if his soul was leaving them while his eyes were watery as if he was dying, he had inhaled it all at once and swallowed it, so it was like watching a chimney moan. You quickly went to his aid by taking the joint from him, taking him to the window to get some air and gently hitting his back to get the remaining humor out of his lungs. Even so, you couldn't help but laugh awkwardly, you tried to hide it so he wouldn't think you were laughing at him but then it was a thousand times more noticeable.
“This can't be healthy…” he mentioned, hitting his back against the wall next to the window.
“Not if you do it like that” you mentioned covering your laughter with your hand.
“Do you find it funny to see me dying in the smoke?”He asked, he didn't seem upset, he just had his arms crossed with a sarcastic attitude, letting his back fall against the wall in the arch of the window.
“No…” you muttered before stopping hiding your laughter and letting it out freely. He just smiled and looked out the window, he felt a little silly about everything that had happened but at least he made you laugh and that was something.
Viktor’s skin crawled as your hand suddenly cupped his cheek. “You have a tear,” you said, wiping the small droplet that rolled down his cheek with your thumb. His arms fell heavily to the sides of his body. Before he could react properly, he let himself enjoy the touch, your touch, the feeling of you coming into contact with his skin. Although it only lasted a few seconds, he could still feel your touch when you pulled away.
“I’ll do it first so you can see, okay?” you said. You took the joint between your fingers elegantly and put it between your lips. You inhaled and held it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly. The smoke fell from your mouth and the wind carried it to Viktor, enveloping it in a cloud of smoke before dissipating into the air.
You approached him with slow steps, taking one of his hands and leaving the joint between his fingers. “It’s your turn,” you said, raising his hand to his mouth, “remember, don’t swallow the smoke,” you said in a joking tone.
“Ha ha, funny.” He rolled his eyes and brought the joint to his lips this time. He took a deep drag and held it for a while, holding onto his cane to use his free hand for something.
You were on the lookout for everything, in case he choked on the smoke again.
“Exhale,” you rested your hand on his chest, the small jump his chest made when he felt your fingers against his clothes was clear to you. Smoke came out from between his thin lips like a waterfall, you left your hand against his chest until you felt him breathe again. “My turn,” you said, taking the joint and taking another drag.
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After a few puffs, Viktor is more relaxed and begins to notice things he wouldn't normally comment on. He looks at you with the curiosity of a small child.
“You know, you're surprisingly good at… this” he says as he holds the joint ready for another puff. “I thought only Jayce could convince me to do something stupid, but you seem more effective.”
You laughs, it's a rather polite comment coming from him. “Are you surprised? I have my methods.” You reply mischievously.
“Your methods…” he stares at you for a moment and mutters almost to himself. “They should be exclusive.”
As the joint gets smaller, the effect becomes much more noticeable. Viktor's eyes blink slowly and open like a deer's, his pupils almost completely obscuring the warm iris in his gaze. It doesn't take long for him to let out his first ramblings. By this point, they're both sitting on the floor, each in their own corner of the window with their legs outstretched.
“I like your eyes,” he blurts out of nowhere, clinging to his cane as if he were going to fall off if he doesn't. “It's fascinating. Like…like…like you're catching light in a jar.” He says with the sweetest smile you've ever seen. You're a bit stunned by his words, used to the reserved and serious Viktor, this is all a new air, you play along.
“Wow, was that a compliment? I should write it down for posterity,” you say, laughing. You've received compliments before, from people much more sober than Viktor is now, but it's different, that compliment hits differently, behind all the cool and carefree facade that comment manages to pierce your heart and leaves you sighing for that new side of Viktor. As if you discovered how hungry you were to receive something from him.
Viktor replied, with a smile that exuded confidence “You don’t need to write it down. I can tell you whenever you forget.”
You sighed “You’ll regret that so much when you’re sober…” you said. You didn’t want to take his words seriously, after all, believing someone on drugs was like believing someone drunk and that almost never went well. But it was advice that your own mind threw away right now.
While they were talking, Viktor, under the effects of the joint, began to think things that he normally wouldn’t say. “Why are you always so comfortable with Jayce?” he asks, letting his head fall against the wall, leaving his neck and collarbones bathed in light on display.
Confused, you arch an eyebrow “What? Jayce and I are friends, and he’s my boss, it would be terrible if I didn’t get along with him. Why are you asking?”
Viktor turns his gaze to you, you can feel a huge chill as you become his target, his hand playing with the cane at his side.
“You always laugh with him. You always flutter around him.” He says with a certain bitter tone that you can’t quite decipher. “It’s like he’s the only one who can make you laugh, the only one who deserves to enjoy you. I wish to have that.”
His answer surprises and intrigues you at the same time, you lean a little towards him wearing a mocking smile. The window isn’t very big, so it’s not like you’re far away anyway. “Are you jealous, Viktor?” The way you taste his name like honey runs through every nerve in his spine.
He’s clearly blushing, but he doesn’t back down, after all he has nothing to lose, if something goes wrong he’ll blame the drugs for everything.
“Maybe I am. What’s wrong with wanting your attention for me alone? Can't I want you?”
His words momentarily silence you, surprised by his sincerity. Something he takes advantage of to get closer to you, something you never thought he would do, he leans on his cane and before you know it your legs are trapped between his, and his free hand rests on your shoulder, caressing his way to your neck with his fingers. He looks so… surprisingly desperate, his breathing is irregular and his grip on his cane is weak. Having him so close makes the heat emanating from his body combine with yours, your heart is racing to have him so close and you have to use all your will not to do something stupid.
“It’s frustrating, you know? Seeing how you have such a good time with him and then you’re just silent with me… Don’t I deserve your laughter? Don’t I deserve your company?” You don't know how it hurts to want you, to want your smile, to want your gaze only on me, to want your touch desperately and see how you give it to someone else..." A gasp escapes his face and his body collapses, falling on your hip making you gasp in shock, everything is a mess "Want me, just want me."
"Viktor... You're... you're drugged... You're not seeing clearly." Your heart officially stops, his weight is against you, you can't and don't want to move. Each of his words ignites something inside you that could devour everything in its path.
He laughs, maybe because of nerves, maybe because of the effect of the grass or the tingling that your hands leave behind on his body, but he just laughs "I see enough to not want to share you with anyone else."
His gaze, normally focused and distant, now burned with something that seemed uncontrollable. There was tension in the air, a pent-up hunger that exploded the moment your arms wrapped around his neck.
He didn't wait any longer. With a quick, determined movement, he pulled you close, his cane clattering against the floor as he forgot about everything but you. His lips met yours with an almost brutal force, colliding with the intensity of lightning in the middle of a storm.
The first kiss was a chaos of urgency. Your mouths sought each other out like there was no tomorrow, lips parted, deep gasps escaping between each encounter. Viktor pushed you against the wall, his heavy, ragged breathing echoing in your ears. His hands, normally careful, were now hungry, desperate. One moved up your waist, running down your back under the fabric of your clothes, while the other leaned against the wall, locking you against his body.
You let yourself go completely, your fingers burying themselves in Viktor’s brown, tousled hair. His lips moved in a chaotic rhythm, alternating between wet kisses, bites on your lower lip, and that feverish exploration of your tongues that lit up your entire body. The soft sound of your mouths colliding and your panting filled the air, accompanied by your hands that now ran over his chest, his abdomen, without stopping.
When Viktor broke the kiss, it wasn’t to break away, but to drag his lips down your jaw, down to your neck. There, he left a series of wet, almost wild kisses, lightly sucking on the skin with a wet sound that drew a moan from your throat.
“You are...” he murmured against your neck, his voice raspy, broken, “incredible. I don’t want to stop.”
His words felt like caresses, so charged with emotion that your body trembled under his touch. Viktor's hands now slid down your waist, slowly moving up, exploring it with a reverence laden with desire. Each touch was a reminder of how much pent-up passion this man so accustomed to solitude harbored for you.
"Viktor..." you gasped against his neck, but he took your mouth again, cutting you off with another fierce kiss.
The sound of rustling clothes, of uneven breathing, and Viktor's soft grunts as he lost himself in you filled the room. His body was completely pressed against yours, and every movement of his seemed to be aimed at etching his presence into you, as if he feared it could all fade away at any moment.
When they finally broke apart, their lips were swollen, and their chests rose and fell rapidly. Viktor's eyes, normally filled with logic and calculation, were now deep pools of desire and devotion, reflecting every emotion he couldn't put into words.
“This isn’t enough,” he confessed, his voice shaking slightly as he looked at you as if you were the only important thing in the world. “It will never be enough with you.”
Your breathing was still ragged, the air between you filled with an almost palpable heat. Viktor kept his forehead resting against yours, his eyes closed, while his hand remained firmly on your waist, as if letting go was unthinkable.
“This is dangerous...” Viktor murmured, although the tremble in his voice made it clear that the idea of stopping was an almost impossible challenge. His fingers continued to absentmindedly trace the curve of your back, as if his body refused to break contact.
“More dangerous than what you do with Hextech?” you replied in a whisper, sketching a slight smile, trying to lighten the tension of the moment.
Viktor’s response was caught in his throat when you both suddenly heard the echo of footsteps in the hallway. You both tensed instantly, your bodies rigid as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water over both of you. Realizing for the first time that dawn had already arrived and the sun was rising lazily on the horizon, the weed turned the hours into moments.
“Viktor, are you there?” Jayce’s deep, confident voice echoed just outside the door.
Viktor’s eyes snapped open, his pupils still dilated from the intensity of the moment. He cursed under his breath as he grabbed his cane from the floor, gesturing quickly towards the work table. You understood what he meant.
With your heart about to explode, you helped him stand up and hurried to adjust your clothes and move away from him, although your legs were shaking slightly from the heat still burning in your body. You pretended as best you could that nothing had happened, he walked over to his desk and you grabbed some papers from the floor.
The door opened barely a second later, not giving you time to fully regain your composure. Jayce walked in with his usual relaxed attitude, but his gaze narrowed instantly as he noticed the strange atmosphere that filled the room.
“Am I interrupting something…didn’t you go home Y/N?” he asked with a raised eyebrow, looking first at Viktor and then at you, lingering a second longer than necessary on your slightly swollen lips.
Viktor, always quick to react, stood up with his cane and pointed at a pile of papers scattered on his table.
“Nothing at all,” he said in his usual tone, though the slight blush on his cheeks betrayed his feigned calm. “We were just going over some calculations and cleaning up your mess.”
Jayce narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. He took in Viktor’s messy locks, the flushed cheeks on your face, and that palpable tension floating between the two of you.
“Going over calculations?” he repeated slowly, letting the phrase hang in the air with a mocking tone as he crossed his arms. “Because it seems that something else happened here.”
You forced a nervous smile as you began to organize the papers on the table, pretending the comment was outlandish. “Oh, come on Jayce, what could possibly happen here?” Your heart was still beating like a drum in your ears. Viktor, for his part, adjusted his posture and gave Jayce a sharp look, full of exasperation.
“If you have something important to say, do it quickly. We’re busy.” Viktor’s voice was sharp, as if he were trying to firmly divert attention.
Jayce tilted a smile, clearly amused by his friend’s reaction, but raised his hands in surrender.
“Relax, it’s nothing urgent. I just wanted to ask you something, but I can go get coffee while you finish. I don’t want to… interrupt your calculations.”
The emphasis on the last word followed him to the door, where he gave one last suspicious look before disappearing down the hall.
When the door finally closed, the silence in the room was deafening. You let out a nervous laugh, bringing your hand to your mouth, while Viktor let out a long sigh and let himself lean back against the table, holding himself up with one hand.
“This can’t happen again,” he murmured, though his eyes, still fixed on you, burned with an unmistakable desire that contradicted every word. “I don’t know how you make my brain feel so… scattered and focused at the same time.”
You smile and he replies mischievously as you drop your forehead on his shoulder, your breath brushing his neck. “It’s my secret talent.”
Viktor watches you for a moment and adds softly, “Then, save it for me.”
“Viktor, I think you’re too high to give romantic speeches.” You laugh softly and give him a small pinch on the arm.
“Maybe… but I’m not so high that I don’t know I want more than what’s happened tonight.” His arms wrap around your waist in a hug. His chest heaves with a small laugh. “Shall we have breakfast at my house?”
The answer is more than clear.
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💕Thank you for the 100 followers even though we already passed 4 more, thank you for everything💕
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kvroomi · 2 days ago
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it's 9 o'clock in the evening when atsumu barges into your bathroom while you're taking off your makeup
“hey, babe, yer phone’s charged, right?”
his voice breaks through the quiet hum of your evening, pulling your attention away from the bottle of moisturiser you'd been trying to open for the past 5 minutes. you glance up to find him leaning in the doorway. his black dress pants and light blue button-up are long gone, now replaced with a large white t-shirt and his obnoxious 'world's best setter' boxers that he must've left in the dresser you bought for him when he started staying over more often.
“yeah, why?” you ask, raising an eyebrow suspiciously.
he holds up his phone with an exaggerated sigh, the screen dark. “mine’s dead." he sighs and you look at him confused.
"i was gonna call ‘samu—messaged me somethin’ about the shop. think he forgot to order noodles or… or whatever. can i borrow yours for a sec?”
you furrow your eyebrows, skepticism creeping in. atsumu wasn’t exactly known for prioritizing osamu’s last-minute “emergencies” unless they directly concerned him. “can’t you just use the landline?”
“the landline?” he places a hand on his chest in mock offense.
“what am i, a fossil?" you turn your gaze back to the mirror with a roll of your eyes.
"c’mon, babe, it’ll only take a minute. please?”
you stare at him and he stares back, the two of you locking eyes in a silent standoff. atsumu, for all his dramatics, was never great at hiding when he was up to something.
alas, as much as you wanted to pry, you also didn’t have the energy to argue over something so trivial when it was so late into the day.
“okay,” you breathe out, followed by a long sigh as you hand your phone over.
“just don’t mess with anything.” your eyes narrow threateningly.
“mess with things? me?” he shakes his head around, feigning shock. “never. yer phone’s in the safest hands imaginable.”
that already should’ve been your second red flag—though before you can even question him, he's got his back turned halfway out the door yelling “thanks, babe! yer the best!” over his shoulder.
a brief fifteen minutes have passed, which you only vaguely realise in the haze of beginning your book. you're comfortably tucked into the corner of the couch when he strolls into the living room. plopping your phone onto the cushions beside you and pressing a quick, warm kiss to the top of your head—he pokes your cheek.
“yer a lifesaver,” he says with a grin, flopping down beside you. “what would i do without ya?”
you offer him a glance, “what did osamu need?”
“huh?” you notice his grin falter. it's a split millisecond, but he's quick to cover it with a casual wave of his hand. “oh, somethin’ about… rice.”
you squint at him, trying to read his face. “i thought you said noodles earlier?”
“rice, noodles—same difference,” he says, getting up and walking over to the fridge to pull it open. “food stuff... y’know how he is.”
you let out a hum, satisfied with his answer. and just like that, the moment passes. your attention is drawn back to your book while atsumu rifles through leftovers.
it isn't until later that night when you're climbing into bed and reaching for your phone to set your alarm that you notice. the screen lights up, and instead of your usual photo of cherry blossoms, you're greeted by him—a photo of atsumu.
and it's not just any photo of atsumu, though. this one was pure chaos.
his entire face filled the frame, nose slightly scrunched, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk, and his golden-brown eyes wide with faux innocence. his lips were puckered in an over-the-top kissy face. across the bottom of the image in bright, white text were the words: “miss me yet, babe? ;)”
your jaw drops.
“what the—?” you're immediately sitting up and unlocking your phone, going straight into your photo gallery. what you find only makes your disbelief grow, (and maybe your heart too, out of fondness).
the first photo was relatively tame: a selfie of atsumu sprawled out on the couch with his head sitting in his hand with a cheeky and flirty smile. of course, you think.
the second was him in the doorway of the living room with his finger pressed to his lips in a "shh" gesture while you sat on the couch, engrossed in your book.
and then things get progressively more ridiculous, (assuming that's even possible).
there's a close-up of atsumu holding up your favorite snack with an inflated, brash grin, almost as if he was offering it to you. the caption reads: “this one's for you, babe."
another captured him perched on your desk chair, holding your pencil like it was a quill. his nose is scrunched again, an attempt to portray his concentration as he pretends to scribble something brilliant.
it's the final photo that stops you in your tracks.
it's atsumu stood on the balcony, wrapped in your favorite blanket like a superhero while his arm stretched dramatically toward the sky. the caption read: “protector of this household and defender of snacks ;)”
you stare at the screen in silence, eyes wide and mouth slightly agape. quite frankly, you couldn't tell whether you wanted to laugh or cry.
atsumu was many things: he was ridiculous, he was almost always over the top, and he was also occasionally the most infuriating person you’d ever met. but, there was one thing for certain—he was undeniably, wholeheartedly yours.
many people don't understand him the way you do. atsumu hadn’t just messed with your phone for the sake of it—he’d left you a trail of love notes that were neatly tucked behind each photo’s absurdity. it was his way of saying "i’m here, even when i’m not," without actually saying the words verbally.
and it worked.
you didn’t text him right away. instead, you curled under the blankets, scrolling through the photos again and again. your heart swelled with every outlandish caption, every childish expression, every trace of him.
eventually, you couldn’t help yourself.
you: you’re a menace.
his reply was almost instant: atsumu: a menace with a pretty face, though. miss ya, babe x
you beamed, your thumb hovering over the lock screen settings, conflicted between whether or not you should switch back the photo. though how could you? not when you already knew tomorrow would bring another excuse for him to check your phone again, just to see if you’d kept it.
so you decide to leave it—his face on your lock screen as a proud display of the world’s most unconventional love letter.
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KVROOMI © 2024, DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.
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torturedlexdepartment · 3 days ago
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Tidal Wave
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JJ Maybank x fem reader
Author's note: another CA repost 😅🤣 i really was OBSESSED
Warnings: SMUT, smoking, drinking, masturbation, fingering, somnophilia, oral (rem receiving), choking, biting, hair pulling, dom JJ, sex under the influence
Summary: after a talk about your kinks earlier in the night, JJ can't help but try to bring some of them to life
You and JJ were sitting by the fire outside of the chateau. The shack was basically your second home. You and your friends were hosting a party. The yard was packed with people from the island and a couple of tourons. This was one of your favorite parts of summer. You were already really buzzed when you decided to share a joint with JJ. One of your favorite extracurricular activities to do with your best friend.
You and JJ always had the most interesting conversations during your smoke sessions. You took way too much of a rip off the joint before passing it back to JJ and coughed your lungs out. He grinned, trying hard not to laugh at you.
“Always trying to bite off more than you can chew Y/N.” He teased.
“Don’t be a dick or I’m not sharing my pot with you anymore.” You playfully shoved him and he huffed.
“Hey now, no need to be hasty.” He passed the joint back to you and you finished the rest in silence. You were definitely crossfaded by the last rip and you felt like you were floating.
“You know what we never talked about before Y/N?”
“What?”
“What our kinks are.” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment for a second but you were super intrigued to learn what your highly attractive friend liked in bed.
“You first.”
“Hmm, I like it when a girl tugs at my hair, not even gonna lie. And lets me have my way with her.” He smirked, all proud while you cocked your brow at him. You tried your hardest not to clench your thighs together at the thought of him being so dominant. “What about you huh?”
“Choking, biting, hair pulling, ya know the normal stuff. But also there’s something I’ve always fantasized about but haven’t gotten to experience.” That caught his attention. “Okay so don’t judge me but I am really turned on by the thought of someone teasing and touching me while I’m unconscious.” You almost regretted letting the words leave your mouth until you saw the look on JJ’s face. He couldn’t hide the smirk if he tried.
“You mean like having someone fuck you in your sleep?” You nodded and he had to bite his tongue. JJ put his best poker face at what you just revealed to him. He didn’t want you to know that his cock twitched in his shorts at the thought of him being able to make you cum when you were in your most vulnerable state.
“Sounds hot.” His reaction surprised you and the smile on his face had you feeling flustered all of a sudden. You always found him sexy. Especially under the influence but tonight felt different. This whole conversation had you incredibly hot and bothered and it frustrated you that you had no way to relieve yourself. You were half tempted to ask JJ but you were always worried your attraction was one-sided and it wasn’t worth risking the friendship no matter how horny you were.
You both kept talking about random things for a while before Kie and Sarah stole you away for some dancing around the fire. You didn’t notice how JJ was eyeing you the whole time, your previous conversation replaying over and over in his mind. He watched you sway to the music as he sipped his beer. He often fantasized about what it would be like to kiss you, to taste you, what it would feel like to be inside of you. But the whole kink conversation had him even deeper in his feelings. If only he realized that his attraction wasn’t one-sided.
Another hour or so went by and the party started to dissipate. You were way too wasted to go home, a common occurrence after these parties. You stayed at the chateau often. Usually on the couch but sometimes JJ would offer for you to share the bed with him in the spare bedroom. You weren’t sure where he was at when you decided to turn in for the night. You told all the other pogues you were heading to bed. You groaned when you entered the room. It was the middle of summer and it was hot as hell, this room always seemed to get stuffy. You walked over to the window to crack it.
You didn’t even give it a second thought before you were stripping down to your bra and panties. There was no way you were going to survive sleeping fully dressed. You climbed into the bed and didn’t even bother to cover up with the blanket. The effects of the pot and alcohol together still had you feeling amazing. Unfortunately, all it did was make you insanely horny. And it was torture because you had no one to help you out.
You decided the only option you had was yourself. You laid on your back and closed your eyes and started teasing yourself by playing around with your nipples. They were always so sensitive when you were this turned on. It didn’t take much for you to get wet in this euphoric state. You slid your hand down your panties and started lazily rubbing your clit. You were still so high that you didn’t catch yourself starting to fall asleep while you attempted to fuck yourself. You gave up on the fact and turned over and drifted off to sleep quickly. You were sleeping deeply by the time JJ made his way into the bedroom.
“Y/N, you still awake?” Your silence gave him his answer as he walked across the room, stripping off his boots. He didn’t realize you were half-naked until he was just feet away from the bed. He stopped to do a double-take before sitting on the bed next to you. He admired you sleeping soundly for a few moments before he covered you up with the blanket. He tried to push away all his dirty thoughts of you being only in your underwear in his bed. He had wondered if you did this on purpose. He tried hard to snap out of those thoughts as he made himself comfortable and laid down next to you.
You had rolled over onto your back when you felt his weight shift next to you. You started mumbling in your sleep and he figured that you must have been dreaming. He laid facing you, still in the middle of an internal battle with himself on what he was going to do. He knew it was probably wrong but all he could think about was helping you out with your fantasy. It took him a few minutes but he was finally able to shut himself down and roll over away from you.
Only a couple of minutes had passed before he heard you rambling in your sleep again. This time he could make out some words.
“Please just touch me.” You mumbled, barely loud enough for him to hear. He tried hard to ignore you but his eyes shot open when he heard his name fall from your lips. “JJ, I need you.” He quickly rolled over and almost completely fell apart at the sight next to him. You were still asleep but had managed to slide your hand back into your panties. It was the hottest thing he had ever seen in his life. Hearing his name come from your mouth felt like permission enough for him to do what he wanted all night.
He started by replacing your hand with his, as gentle as possible. He could feel himself get instantly hard when he felt how soaked you were. Your breathing intensified when you felt his fingers toying with you. You were having the sexiest dream ever, not realizing that it was a part of your reality. His fingers felt way better than your own. He was slow about his movements, taking his time enjoying the sweet sounds escaping your lips.
He was getting off in his own way getting to pleasure you. He dove his digits down and slid one inside of you. You arched your back immediately and he couldn’t help himself. He started placing sweet kisses on the side of your neck as he plunged his finger in and out of you. He added another one and his mind went crazy imagining fucking you with his cock. You were so tight around just his fingers, he knew you were going to be the death of him.
After a few minutes of this, his neediness was starting to get the better of him. He wanted to do more. He removed his fingers from you and slipped down in between your legs. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your panties and started sliding them down your legs. He started cursing to himself when he caught the first glance at your soaking wet pussy. It was no doubt the prettiest pussy he had ever laid his eyes on. He spread your legs wide for him and licked his lips.
He started out by kissing the inside of your thighs tenderly. He noticed your breathing deepen even more before he licked one slow stripe up the center of your heat. You still thought you were in the middle of the best dream ever and you knew exactly what was happening. He smiled into your pussy when he felt you buck your hips into his face. He paid extra attention to your clit with his tongue as he slipped his fingers back inside of you.
You moaned out and he stopped for a second, thinking you woke up. But went back to his devilish actions when he realized you were still unconscious. He realized he had found that sweet spot inside of you as you grew louder and louder every time his fingers grazed it. He could feel you starting to clench around them and he started sucking on your clit harshly. All he wanted to do was make you cum and lick you clean. Your pussy was the sweetest thing he had ever tasted and he knew he would never get enough. He prayed this wasn’t going to be a one-time thing as he felt your hands tug at his hair. Your eyes fluttered open and you quickly realized that you weren’t dreaming at all. Your ultimate fantasy was playing out right before your eyes.
“Fuck, JJ don’t stop.” His eyes met yours as he continued to devour you. He was even more determined to make you cum now that you were awake. You throwing your head back in pleasure was something he swore he’d never get out of his mind as the band inside you snapped and you covered his face with your release. He didn’t stop lapping at you until there was nothing left to clean up. He kissed up your stomach until he reached your lips.
“Baby, please let me fuck you.” He begged and that’s all you wanted to hear. You needed his cock inside of you.
“Please.” You whimpered and he crashed his lips into yours, the taste of yourself still present on his tongue. You removed your bra and started tugging at his shirt and he pulled it over his head, throwing it on the floor. He admired your tits for a moment before he came back down to kiss you, much deeper than before. You enjoyed kissing him but you were growing more and more impatient. You grabbed for his cock through his shorts, earning you a low groan. You helped him out of his shorts and boxers, his cock springing against his stomach. You bit your lip in anticipation as he rested himself back in between your legs.
He started rubbing his cock through your folds to tease you and left hungry kisses on the side of your neck. You gasped out in relief when he slowly started inching himself into you. His was stretching you out more than anyone else ever had. You would never get enough of feeling this full. You reattached your lips to his as he slowly started thrusting in and out of you.
“You feel so good around me princess.” He was fucking you softly but you craved more. Call it the inner animal in you but you wanted him to completely destroy you.
“J, I want you to have your way with me. Ruin me, make me fall apart.” Your words made him do flips inside.
“I”m going to fuck you so good, you’re going to get wet at the sound of my name.” He growled in your ear and started pounding into you mercilessly. He felt so incredible inside of you, that you worried about how long you were going to last. He started biting your neck and you clawed at his back, both of you leaving marks to claim each other. His moans were almost as loud as yours and it was the hottest thing you had ever experienced. You knew your friends had to be able to hear you, but neither of you cared.
He grabbed both of your arms and used one of his hands to pin them over your head. His other hand went to tighten around your neck. It seemed like he remembered every single part of your conversation earlier in the night. You had never been this dominated in bed and you loved every second of it. You knew he was going to ruin you for anyone else. You could feel your orgasm bubbling in your stomach and he could tell by the way you were squeezing his cock.
He was right about how you would feel and you being so tight. It was way better than any fantasy he had about you over the past few years. You were finally under him, falling apart for him. He would never let you go after this.
“I”m gonna cum.” As much as he wanted to hear those words, he didn’t want it to be over this quickly.
“No baby, hold it. Wait for me.” You looked up at him pleadingly.
“J, I can’t.” He groaned and pulled out of you, flipping you onto your stomach before you could even comprehend what was happening.
“Knees now.” His stern tone came as a surprise but you obeyed. He was back inside of you within seconds. He leaned down to grab you by your hair and you cried out. This new position made it easier for him to completely rail the shit out of you. You were going to be hurting in the morning but that’s what you get for asking for it. “That’s right Y/N, take me. This pussy is mine, got it?” You didn’t say anything right away and his grip on your hair tightened.
“Yes JJ, it’s all yours. I’m all yours.” You loved him being possessive. You could feel his cock start to twitch inside of you, signaling that he was close. This position had him deeper than before and you were going to fall apart any second.
“Fuck, cum with me Y/N.” Right on cue, your walls started pulsating around him sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your whole body. He was filling you up seconds later. You relished in the feeling of him painting your walls with his spend. He placed sweet kisses on your shoulder before pulling out of you and collapsing next to you on the bed. You both needed a few moments to recover from the best sex either one of you ever had.
“Did you mean what you said? That I’m yours.” You asked him and he gave you a smirk.
“If you want to be.” Of course, that’s all you wanted after he gave you the best night of your life.
“Okay, are there any other kinks you’re wanting to try out?” His eyebrows raised, pleased with your words.
“Hmmm, I can think of a couple.” He kissed you, rolling back on top of you. Your night was far from over.
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strnilolover · 2 days ago
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NNN - chris sturniolo - long distances
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You and Chris had been together for a little over a year, content with one another and the company each of you had to bring.
Before hand — you were good friends, best friends to be exact. Not with just him, but with his brothers too, and it was nice to know nothing really changed after putting a label on the two of you.
Chris and his brothers were already in their filming career when you had gotten together — making videos and posting them twice a week for their fan base that was already growing so large within a short amount of time.
Though, one day, while cuddled up with chris on your couch at your home — he broke the news to you.
He was moving to LA with Matt and Nick. Having already made enough money to afford a nice little place there. It was shocking to hear, and at first you were upset — upset with the fact you couldn’t see him everyday and you wouldn’t be around him when you needed him or wanted him.
But, the upset had been replaced with excitement over time. Thinking of all the possibilities for Chris and how amazing it was that he was able to do this with his brothers. And of all the stories you would be able to hear about his new life in a busy and bustling city.
When the day had finally come for him to move — it was spent with tears and hugs and promises to one another that everything would be okay.
And for the most part it was, you called every night — texted each other too many times through out the day and stayed connected. But, at some point things started to change. Chris grew more busy with work and with his clothing line he was starting, and the absence made you feel empty. Like he wasn’t even really there.
There were less calls, more messages being left on read or delivered — but Chris at least would tell you when he was busy and couldn’t talk, which you appreciated.
Eventually, everything began to weigh down on you. And you needed to tell him — needed to let him know how you were feeling. That you were having doubts.
-
Your room was quiet except for the faint hum of your laptop. Chris’ face filled the screen, his familiar features bathed in the soft light of his LA room. He looked tired, his curls messier than usual and his celtics hoodie hanging loosely on his frame. You tried to ignore the hollow ache in your chest as you smiled at him.
“How was your day?” you asked, forcing a casual tone as your eyes looked around your screen, taking in the view you’ve seen hundreds of times already.
Chris shrugged, leaning back against his chair. “Same as usual. Filmed with Nick and Matt, ran some errands. We tried this new sushi place for dinner. It was good, but, uh… not as good as Boston sushi.”
You let out a soft laugh, even though it stung a little. “Boston sushi is definitely better. How’s the apartment coming along?” you asked — a question that would slip here and there.
Chris shrugged slightly. “Fine, I guess. Still trying to figure out where to put everything. Matt thinks we need more stuff on the walls, but Nick keeps saying we don’t. It’s a whole thing.” He gave a faint smile, his voice lacking its usual warmth. “What about you? How was work?”
“Busy,” you said simply, picking at the edge of your blanket. “Came home, made dinner… I made too much again. I keep forgetting I’m just cooking for one now.” you admitted. Being so used to his presence all the time, you often made dinner for two people — it was still a hard adjustment.
Chris’ smile faltered, guilt flashing in his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said softly.
You shook your head quickly, brushing it off. “It’s not your fault. I just need to get used to it still — even if it’s been a little.”
The conversation then faded into silence, and for a moment, all you could hear was the faint rustle of Chris adjusting his laptop. He looked away, his jaw tense, and you felt the words building in your chest — words you’d been too scared to say for weeks right on the tip of your tongue.
It was now or never.
“Chris,” you began hesitantly, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can we… uhm - can we talk about us?” the words slipping past your lips felt like a burn on your own tongue.
His gaze snapped back to you, his expression guarded. “What about us?”
You hesitated, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. “I just… I feel like things have been different lately. At first, we were doing so well — texting all the time, FaceTiming every night. But now… I don’t know. It feels like we’re drifting apart.”
Chris’s brows furrowed at your words, his shoulders visibly tensing. “I’ve noticed it too,” he admitted after a pause. “I just didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want to make things worse.”
You blinked, surprised by his honesty. “You didn’t think I’d feel the same?”
“I don’t know,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “I didn’t want to say anything and make you think I was doubting us or something. And I’m not. I love you. But this…” He gestured vaguely, his hand moving between him and the screen. “This is hard. Harder than I thought it��d be.”
The crack in his voice made your heart ache, but you nodded, tears stinging the corner of your eyes. “It is hard. I miss you so much, Chris. Some nights, it’s all I can think about — how empty this place feels without you here. And then I start wondering… what if we can’t do this? What if it’s too much?”
Chris’s eyes widened slightly, his panic evident. “Wait, are you saying you want to—”
“No!” you interrupted quickly, shaking your head. “No — Chris, that’s not what I mean. I just… I don’t know how to fix this. And I hate feeling like we’re not as close as we used to be.”
Chris let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. “I feel the same way,” he said quietly. “I hate that I can’t just drive over and see you when you’ve had a bad day. I hate that I can’t be there to hold you. And honestly… sometimes, I feel like I’m letting you down.”
“You’re not,” you said firmly, leaning closer to the screen. “Chris, you’re doing the best you can. We both are. But we need to be honest with each other if we’re going to make this work.”
He nodded slowly, his jaw tightening as he processed your words. “You’re right. I’ve been holding back because I didn’t want to make things worse, but… I guess that’s only made things harder. I’ve missed you so much, and it’s been killing me not to tell you how much I’ve been struggling with this.”
Tears now spilled down your cheeks, and you wiped them away quickly with your sleeve. “I’ve been struggling too. And I was scared to tell you because… what if it made you think I didn’t believe in us anymore? I do, Chris. I love you so much. I just… I didn’t know how to deal with all of this on my own.”
His expression softened, and he leaned closer to the camera, his voice gentle. “You don’t have to deal with it alone, okay? We’re in this together. And if that means being brutally honest about how much this sucks sometimes, then that’s what we’ll do.”
You laughed softly through your tears, nodding. “Deal. And… maybe we can try to plan our visits better. I need to see you, Chris. I think that’ll help a lot.” you whispered, feeling yourself ease up a little at the thought of him here — with you.
His lips quirked into a small smile. “Funny you should say that… I’ve been looking at flights to Boston. I was going to surprise you, but… maybe we need this sooner rather than later. I’ll come next month. No excuses.”
“Really?” you asked, your heart swelling with hope.
“Really,” he said, his smile growing. “I need to hold you again. And I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work.”
A weight lifted from your chest, and you smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. “I’ll hold you to that,” you teased, your voice lighter.
Chris chuckled, the sound warming your heart. “I love you. And no matter how hard this gets, I’m not giving up on us. Ever.”
“I love you too,” you said softly. “And I promise… I’ll do everything I can to make this work too.”
It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was a start. The rest of the night felt lighter — the ache in your chest still present but less. You both were more cheerful — joking around about random things and teasing him about how his hair was too messy — along with his room.
You smiled at your screen, watching as Chris did the same. His hand coming up to his lips and blowing you a kiss through the screen — and you blushed.
You’re just hoping that whatever was said tonight…was going to stick.
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© strnilolover
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harrysfluff · 2 days ago
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Choices
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A/n: Hello! Lol I am currently writing my applications for PhD programs and need a break. This was a draft I had and wanted to polish up for you guys. Btw i haven't written anything with angst or really a plot in a hot minute so I'm sorry for the plot.
Tw: smut (p in v, unprotected sex), angst (couple fighting)
Harry's forearms came on either side of your head as your bare bodies touched one another. Your hands snaked their way down his ass, grabbing at him in tight clenches. The bedsheets were crumpled together towards the foot of the bed leaving both of you exposed to the cold room. "I think we would make cute babies," Harry smiled down at you, pushing his hips deeper into you.
Harry had recently become obsessed with babies. He had brought it up to you a few months ago and hadn't stopped since. Harry never was doing things in order since some people would have at least waited for a ring. "I just know you my person and this is exactly what I want with you in this moment," he said each time. It slowly wore down on you, and as you started to come around to the idea. Suddenly, you were also imagining a small bundle that was a mix of both of you.
You could feel his hard self push against your clit, giving a light sensation from the bud. You let out a heavy exhale from the feeling, while your hands move upward to his back. "I think so, too. They would have your eyes." Harry buried his face into the crook of your neck, sucking against the skin gently. You threw your head back into your pillow, giving him more access. "And hopefully my sense of humor," you tease.
"Oi," Harry lifted his head back up, "What did I do? I'm just trying to make love to the woman I love." He defended.
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I just love to tease you. You get all worked up!" You brought his face down to yours to share a kiss. “It’s cute,” you shared before your lips collided. You opened your mouth slightly to allow his tongue to slip through. The kiss deepened as you engulfed each other. You brought your legs up providing the perfect angle for Harry. Usually, the two participated in more foreplay. However, the feeling of him against your clit had built up a hunger for him inside of you. Taking the cue, Harry slipped himself in.
The feeling of him inside of you always made you realize just how empty you felt when he wasn't. You pulled your lips away from each other as Harry slowly rolled his hips into you. The gentle waves of him caused a growing intensity in you.
Harry's brow furrowed, "I wanna savor this." He lowered his face down again for another passionate kiss. "God, I wanna be inside you forever. Do you want me to be inside of you forever?"
"Yes," you exhaled. "Please never leave me."
It came out as a whine which always sent Harry into overdrive. He pulled away from you. The emptiness makes you shiver. Harry's hands grabbed onto your knees, spreading them. You were completely exposed to him, glistening in the light as some of you leaked onto the sheets. Harry pushed himself in again, this time with more speed and power. "Fuck. I'm going to fill you up with my cum. Wanna have my baby, don't you?" He brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing firm circles. The movement sent pulses through your body as your breaths became more shallow.
"Yes, please fill my tummy with you," you begged. The feeling radiated from your pussy reaching higher intensity with each thrust from him. "I wanna have your baby so bad, H."
Every time Harry hears those words from you, a primal feeling erupts. "I'm about to fill you up," he grunted. His movements are becoming increasingly faster. "Fuck," he gasped, slamming his hips into yours. "Oh Harry," you screamed out as you released over him. Harry collapsed on top of you, still staying inside of you.
He stayed there for a moment, before lifting his upper body from you. His skin was sweaty and you could see the beads of sweat on his forehead. "You said you never wanted me to leave," he smirked, slowly rolling his hips into you. “I just wanna make you sure you’re extra pregnant,” he laughed.
You giggled too, still in your post orgasm bliss. “I think I’m plenty pregnant. We haven’t left this bed all weekend and I’m full of your cum,” you said pushing him off you. Harry settled on his side, his hand being placed on your stomach. He began to trace his finger gently, his eyes stayed concentrated on it. “You know it doesn’t happen immediately, right?” You say.
“I know but this is just so perfect you know? Like this moment. I don’t know I like imagining our baby. I would take them down the street to that coffee shop. And I could get a bike!” His eyes came up to yours, beaming with excitement. “You know I’ve been thinking of getting one since I’m always renting one. I don’t know I could get one and then get one of those baby attachments so we could ride around together.” His mind rambled on, imagining himself riding around with a little one. He settled onto his back and you nestled yourself into his side. Harry’s arm instinctively wrapped around you, pulling you close. “Either way it will be perfect. I’m winding down so I’ll have time and you’ll take off work -“
“Wait what?” You sat up, staring confused at him. You clutched the sheets around your chest, covering them from him.
“Yeah, I was thinking you could you know take some time off.”
“I didn’t know that. When were you gonna tell me you wanted me to quit?” You asked, starting to feel the heat in your face.
“Y/n I’m not asking you to quit I just think you should step back.” He defended. “I think it’s for the best if we can be there together in the beginning. And besides, it’s not like we need to worry about money.”
“But it’s not about money. It was never about that.” Your blood started to boil as you found your thoughts. “I’ve worked so hard for this between all my school and years at this company. I’m not gonna throw it all away because I have a family. I had this job before you and I’ll have it after you.” You hastily scooted off the bed and wrapped the sheets around you to hide your body from him.
“Y/n you’re not listening to me. I’m not asking you to quit. That’s not at all what I’m saying: I’m just saying we should both take a step back from work.” He pleaded in a gentle tone.
You walked right into your closet to grab some sweats. The last thing you wanted was for Harry to see your body. “Harry not everyone can just take time off,” you reply loudly before mumbling, “Not everyone is a fucking pop star.” You walk out to the bedroom to face him. “Besides why can’t you raise the kid? You have the time.”
Harry rubbed his face harshly. This is not how he envisioned the night ending. “You know what? Don’t take the time off. It’s fine I’ll raise the kid, it’s fine. I’m sorry I said you should back off. I didn’t think.” His tone was flat across each word as he spoke. He swung his legs to the edge of the bed, grabbing his underwear off the floor. His hands fiddled with the shorts, pulling them up his legs while his eyes stayed concentrated on the floor.
“Harry it’s not about that, I'm angry that you just assumed I would take time off,” you paused, trying to read his face. His brows were furrowed together and you could see he had clenched his jaw. "Like do you think that low of my job? Like are you just another out-of-touch celebrity? God the shit I put up with because of you. Listening to you complain about clothes and albums-"
His head snapped towards you, face hardened. "What the fuck? That was fucking mean Y/N and you know it." He stood up from the bed, grabbing his pillow and tucking it under his arm. "I'm gonna sleep in the guest room tonight. I need space right now."
You sighed, the guilt beginning to wash over you. Your face fell into your hands and you contemplated your next move. Following him downstairs would probably not solve anything, but going to bed angry at each other ate away at you. Your mind flashed Harry's face as he was storming out. He was angry and didn't want to even be near you. So much had changed in less than 15 minutes. Not wanting to antagonize him further, you crawled into bed almost engulfing yourself in the thick duvet.
The alarm on your phone went off as it did each morning. Having been use to Harry reaching over to you, you felt a pain in your chest when you were reminded of last night. Normally, he would have tried to pull your closer as you struggled out his grip to start your day. However, there was no struggle as you got out of bed.
You tried to slow your morning get ready as you were scared to go downstairs but yet it seemed to go over quickly. You planned to keep your head down heading out of the kitchen on the off chance he was there, and pick something up on the way to work. It was a solid plan till you got downstairs and saw no trace of him. You were grateful till you saw his car was gone in the garage. It was odd since Harry rarely drove in London and either walked or biked. You shrugged it off, not sure you could understand him right now.
Harry didn't message you all day. Each time your phone flashed a notification, you anxiously checked it wanting to see his name. You sent him a few messages admitting fault and wanting to reconcile yet there was no response. Now you were confused since Harry usually replied.
Turning your key into the door, you imagined him sitting on the couch. Perhaps he was waiting to see you in person to try and repair things. Yet, when you entered the home was undisturbed. There was no trace of him still. You wandered into the guest room and saw the bed messily disturbed. The pillow he had taken was still there. You walked over to it to hold it close to you. Inhaling, you smelled the comforting smell.
Just as you were setting down the pillow, you heard the door open and the sound of footsteps. Coming out of the room, you saw him pushing his shoes off. "Hey," you squeaked out. "I uh just wanted to say I was sorry last night. I should not have said that and I'm sorry." You gulped hard, your hands finding ways to fidget with each other. Harry's eyes came off the ground, peering back from you. They were still cold, and his lips were still in that hard-pressed line. "Harry please say something. I don't like it when you do the silent treatment to me." "I didn't want to say something I would regret," he said.
"Okay, that's fair but I'm sorry. I want to move past this, please." You came closer to him in an effort to reach out to him. However, as you came closer, he backed away from you.
"I'm not sure I'm quite as ready. You hurt me Y/n. Sometimes you're rude to me when we argue and last night crossed a line. I provide for us, for our family, and this is what I get? I understand you have a career but I do too and just because mine is different does not give you the right to belittle it." There was a pause as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "Frankly, I don't know if I want to be with you right now. " Harry finally exhaled, regaining his composure. "Look I'm just here to grab some things. I need more than just a night in the guest bedroom." He pushed past you, walking up the stairs.
You stood there shocked and almost paralyzed. It wasn't until you heard him coming back down that you wiped the tears from your face. "Yeah, erm okay. I understand." You softly whimpered, wiping another tear. "I love you, okay? And I'm really sorry." You were struggling to find the words, burying your face in your hands.
Harry looked at you, his eyes softening at the sight. He would have wrapped his arms around you but felt his arms glued to the sides. There was a part of him that was reluctant to do so. "I'm sorry, too. I hope this isn't the end. I just need some time. That's all."
You nodded, wiping the tears more as you tried to compose yourself. "Yeah, I get it." You gave him a weak smile, watching him leave.
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logos0 · 2 days ago
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Through the Storm
You had always hated storms. Not the ones outside—the crashing thunder and relentless rain were oddly comforting—but the ones that raged inside your mind. They brewed at inconvenient times, bringing doubt, anxiety, and an unbearable weight you could never fully describe. Being with Leah had always been your calm in the chaos, but lately, even she felt like a ship lost in the swell.
The rift started small—a disagreement over her schedule, a misunderstanding about a missed call. Leah was always busy. Between her training sessions and commitments to the England squad, it sometimes felt like you were just another appointment she pencilled in. You tried not to let it bother you, and at first it worked, but as time passed, you could not push down your frustration. Your feelings no longer simmered under the surface but started bubbling over at the worst moments.
It all came to a head one night after her return from an away game. You hadn’t seen her in weeks, nor had you been able to call her, and while you wanted to savour her presence, the frustration you’d been holding in came spilling out instead.
"You’re never here, Leah," you said, your voice trembling with both anger and sadness. "I get that football’s your life, but am I even part of it anymore?"
She stood in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, exhaustion painted across her face. "Of course, you are," she replied, her tone sharp with defensiveness. "You think I don’t miss you when I’m gone? You think this is easy for me?"
"Well, it doesn’t feel like it," you shot back, tears welling in your eyes. "You come home, and it’s like… I’m just a stopover before the next big thing. Like I’m not enough."
Leah dropped her bag and stepped closer, but you turned away, wiping your eyes furiously. "Don’t say that," she whispered, her voice cracking. "You’re everything to me."
"Then why doesn’t it feel like it?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Leah stood frozen, her eyes searching yours for something she couldn’t find. Those eyes which had pulled you into a ban so long ago and now were tormenting you. "I don’t know how to fix this," she admitted, her voice barely audible.
And just like that, the storm between you grew too wild to tame. Leah left that night, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the sound of rain pounding against the window.
The days that followed were agonizing. Leah texted you sporadically, but the messages felt hollow, as though she was trying to bridge a gap that words alone couldn’t mend. You left most of them unanswered, unsure of what to say—or if you even wanted to.
Until one night, a week later, when your phone buzzed with a message that was different from the rest.
Leah: I’m outside. Please, just… let me talk.
You hesitated, your heart battling between wanting to see her and wanting to stay angry. But the thought of her standing outside in the cold, waiting for you, tugged at your resolve. With a sigh, you grabbed a coat and opened the door.
Leah was there, drenched from the rain, her usually confident demeanour replaced with a vulnerability that caught you off guard. That reminded you of times long past. She looked at you with those piercing eyes, and for a moment, neither of you spoke.
"I know I’ve hurt you," she began, her voice steady but soft. "And I’ve spent the past week trying to figure out how to make it right. But the truth is, I don’t have all the answers. All I know is that I can’t lose you."
You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat growing with each word. "Leah… I just feel so invisible sometimes. Like you’re here, but not really here. As if I am just another appointment, a chore."
She nodded, stepping closer. "I know. And you’re right—I haven’t been fair to you. I’ve let football take over everything, and I thought… I thought you’d be okay with that because you’re so strong. But I didn’t realize how much I was taking you for granted."
Her words hit you like a wave, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying. Leah reached for you, hesitating for a split second before pulling you into her arms. You let yourself melt into her, the warmth of her embrace cutting through the chill of the rain.
"I’m sorry," she whispered into your hair. "For everything. I don’t want you to feel like you’re not enough, because you are. You’re more than enough. You’re my everything."
You pulled back just enough to look at her, her face inches from yours. "I don’t need you to have all the answers," you said quietly. "I just need to know that you’re willing to try."
Leah nodded, her expression serious. "I’ll try every day for the rest of my life, if that’s what it takes."
Her lips brushed against yours, soft and hesitant, as if she were asking for permission to fix what had been broken. You kissed her back, the storm inside you finally beginning to settle.
The rain continued to fall, but for the first time in weeks, you felt like you could breathe again. Leah was here, and so were you—together, ready to weather whatever came next.
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quarterlifekitty · 3 days ago
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Read buttermilk today and now @ceilidho got me on that babysitter grindset… but what if I freaked it up a little.
cw: age gap (reader is around 21 and Soap is like 29ish), something sorta flirting with/on the edge of fauxcest due to a sibling-like bond, so I’m gonna tag it as such just in case.
Before Johnny enlisted, he’d only ever had one paying job.
Taking care of you.
About eight years your senior, your mom decided to go back to working when you were around 4 and he was on the cusp of 13. And for 5 years (an eternity to a kid like you) he was your best friend in the world. Would get out of school, walk to the elementary school to get you, bring you home, and hang out until whenever your parents got off of work.
And the boy was devoted. Didn’t mind that he had to put off hanging with his friends till the weekend. Didn’t mind making your snacks or watching silly kids movies. Didn’t mind when you asked him to play pretend veterinarian with you, and he had to lay down and act like a really sick horse. And you loved him.
The first time your parents took you on a vacation and you realized he wouldn’t be there? You were so mad. As mad as a 4 year old can be.
You’re embarrassed when you cry at the news that he’s enlisting— at age 10 you’re not supposed to cry anymore, you’re a big girl. He hugs you so tight, early in the morning before he has to go.
His folks move during his first tour. There isn’t an anchor to bring him back to you for a very long time. Over a decade, as it turns out.
He’s getting ready to go on leave when he gets a call— his mum buzzing with some kind of gossip as usual.
“You’ll never guess who I saw down at Sainsbury’s—“
Your university happens to be in the town his family moved to. He has his own place now of course, but he likes to keep close to them.
His first night back and his mum is beside herself— trying to get the place nice, because you’re joining them for dinner. Johnny never even considers that when you come to the door, you’re not the little girl he left tearing up on her parents porch.
He has to remember to close his mouth at the sight of you. His dad offers you a beer for fuck’s sake. He’s amazed at how much has changed— but also, how much is the same. The curve of your nose, and bubble of your laughter, the way your eyes widen with interest.
You happen to be on break right now. So of course, he ends up unwittingly spending all of his leave with you. You were always a funny kid— you’re a lot funnier now that you can swear. And you were always cute but now you’re so… pretty.
And he is not a fucking fan of the kind of attention it gets you. The way guys look at you when you’re sitting alone, waiting for him at a coffee shop. How your phone goes off at least once every 20 minutes, and it’s almost always ‘this guy from your class’. He tells himself that it’s just because he was responsible for you for so long— that he’s just having trouble shaking that off. He just remembers when you were so innocent— he doesn’t wanna see you get chewed up and spit out by college boys.
And he keeps finding himself falling into old patterns. Making you stay still so he can wipe your mouth after having a bit of a messy danish. Holding your hand tight when you’re in a busy place, crossing any streets. Having you tell him what you want so he can order things for you. Picking you up so he can hear you giggle and tell him to put you down.
He tells himself that when he touches himself later that it’s just because being away for work has left him touch starved and sensitive. It’s only natural to get turned on by a pretty girl who leans into him… especially when you get along so famously.
(Even though he remembers playing I spy while he held your hand and walked you home from school, your little backpack slung over his shoulder, even though he had his own to carry. )
Before he knows it, it’s his last night at home, ending it off with another of his mum’s dinners. At the table you casually mention the graduate schools you’re thinking of going to— some close by, some not. He almost chokes when you mention that there’s a really nice school in Canada you were considering.
That’s when he knows he’s fucked. Because he doesn’t think of that as you getting on with your life. Of a girl getting her education. He thinks of that as losing you, and after the bliss of the past couple of weeks he’s had with you, he’s not sure he’ll take being separated from you nearly as long as he did the last time. Not to mention all of the guys at your school trying to get their hands on you.
So he’s gonna have to find a way to get you too invested to travel far. And figure out how to protect you from those assholes when he’s not around.
Making you a part of his family and putting his ring on your finger should be enough, right?
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marauder-misprint · 1 day ago
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People watching
Part 1 Part 2
Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader
1.3k words
cw: fluff
There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, allowing the sun to warm the grounds of Hogwarts. As if it were written in scripture, students were opting to lounge around outside rather than spend any amount of time inside. You had prepared a few snacks to bring with you while you attempted to study. You made it maybe fifteen minutes before deciding it was too beautiful of a day to be studying, even if you were outside. You wanted to enjoy it fully so now you were eating some of the snacks and people watching. 
You are fairly well entertained when you notice some movement near you. There’s a squirrel, twitchy nose and bushy tail, looking at you. Or, more accurately, the sandwich in your hand. The squirrel moves closer to you, approaching with caution. It was clearly ready to sprint away in a split second if it sensed danger. You pick off a bit of crust and toss it to the side of the creature. You didn’t want to hit it. That would give it the wrong impression. You smile as the squirrel quickly grabs the crust and immediately begins to nibble on it. You swear it looks back at you with hopeful eyes. You laugh and toss a piece further away. The squirrel goes to retrieve the new crust, eats it and comes back, the same hopeful look in its eyes. You repeat your actions, tossing the small crumbs of bread greater distances. You can’t help yourself; it’s just like playing fetch with a dog. 
From their usual spot near the Black Lake, the Marauders are also enjoying the weather. Unlike you, they didn’t bother to bring homework or snacks. James, Remus and Peter were discussing plans and details for their next prank. Sirius wasn’t listening. He had spotted you when they walked out and he hadn’t been able to look away. He was confused at what you were doing, periodically tossing something and laughing. He was too far away to see the squirrel. 
“Oi, Earth to Padfoot!” Peter all but yells, waving his hand in front of Sirius’ face.
“Huh? What?”
“Prongs wants your opinion on dungbombs or enchanted stink pellets.”
“But now I want to know what you find so interesting,” James says, trying to see what he had been looking at. 
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“It’s Dorcas’ friend,” Remus says, a smile creeping up his face. “The dog person, remember?”
James’ face lights up. “Still intrigued, are you?”
“Shut up.”
“Definitely still intrigued,” Peter confirms. “I’m not sure Padfoot heard most of our conversation.”
“I did so,” Sirius tries to defend. “I was listening.”
“And staring at her,” Remus adds.
“Have you considered, oh, I don’t know, talking to her?” Peter asks. “Or go balls deep and ask her out.”
Sirius rolls his eyes, turning his full attention back to the group.
“There was a moment at the last party. She was leaving and I basically asked her to stay and she didn’t.”
“Maybe parties aren’t her thing,” James offers, trying to be helpful.
“She did leave the other one right after she talked to you,” Remus says.
“Maybe it’s talking to you she doesn’t like. That’d be a first for a girl,” Peter snorts.
“We talk just fine!”
“Maybe you’re draining?”
“Wormtail, not helping,” Remus scolds him. 
“I’m again suggesting that maybe she doesn’t like parties. Or maybe it’s the Gryffindor Common Room.”
Sirius looks at James, a small smile forming on his face.
“It could be the common room. She was leaving the party and I convinced her to come to the Astronomy Tower with me. It wasn’t until I tried to get her back into the common room that she actually left.”
Peter laughs, “You took her to the Astronomy Tower? And you didn't snog her? It’s that your spot?”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “It’s a spot. Can’t say I own it.”
“You’ve taken a fair amount of girls up there though,” Remus adds.
“I went up for air.” The boys give him disbelieving looks. “Okay, and I followed her out because I didn’t want her leaving so soon. As you so kindly confirmed, I am still intrigued by her. Happy?”
James crosses his arms and nods. “Yes. Quite.”
Sirius looks back at you and his smile slowly turns down into a tight lipped frown. Some time during his friends’ interrogation, his brother had made himself at home next to you. Even as far away as you are, you’re obviously comfortable and happy in his presence. An unnerving feeling erupts in Sirius’ stomach. 
---
“Slug Club is having a cocktail party in a few weeks. Old Sluggy seems adamant that everyone brings a date,” Regulus complains, disgust dripping from the last word.
You chuckle, tossing the squirrel another crumb of food. 
“Salazar, Reg, you act like bringing a friend is the end of the world.”
“A friend, no. A date, yes,” he corrects you. 
“Same difference. Pretty sure Horace wants to make sure all his favorites are making the connections he wants them to. No one too sketchy and ill-fitting for him.”
Regulus groans and rests his forehead on your shoulder. You ruffle his hair affectionately.
“Does Slug like you?” Regulus mumbles into your arm.
“Enough, I guess. Not skilled enough in Potions or necessarily connected to anyone to earn myself a spot in the club.” You pause. “As you should know.”
“But if I brought you, he’d approve?”
You look down at Regulus. “You’re desperate for his approval?”
He lifts his head up just to nod it vigorously. His eyes are begging you to agree to his unasked invitation. You give him an amused half smile, your eyes twinkling with mischief. 
“You’re going to make me actually ask, aren’t you?”
You nod, not looking away. 
“Darling, will you go to the Slug Club party with me? If I have to suffer through it, I’d like company I can stand.”
“Oh, Regulus, you sure do know how to make a girl feel special,” you say with feigned sweetness, placing your hand over your heart. Then in your normal tone, “Yes, I’ll go with you. Please tell me I don’t have to dress too fancy, do I?”
“Uh, he didn’t say. I’ll ask.”
You nod and look bad to the squirrel. It’s been inching closer to you and your food. Regulus eyes the creature warily.
“Did you befriend that or something?”
“He’s just a little hungry.” The look of mischief in your eyes brightens. “Do you think I can get him to eat out of my hand? I’ve just been tossing him small bits but now that he’s closer…”
Your voice trails off as you break off a small chunk of bread and place it in the center of your palm. You flatten your hand completely and hold it out in front of you, close to the ground so the squirrel would be able to reach it.
“Ugh, please don’t,” Regulus groans, looking away from what he assumes will be some sort of disaster.
To his surprise, he hears you giggle and tentatively looks back. Your hand is empty. The squirrel is sitting back on its haunches, bread chunk in his tiny hands being nibbled on. You slowly lean forward and run a gentle finger down the animal’s back. It doesn’t seem to mind, but Regulus is fairly certain it’s because the squirrel is too preoccupied with the food you had provided it. 
“One of these days you’re going to get bitten,” he warns, making you laugh. 
“From my experience and from what I've heard, I’m more likely to get a bite from a classmate.”
Regulus’ eyes go wide. “Who is going to bite you?”
“Junior fully threatened to before he got together with Evan.”
Regulus makes a face and then you both start laughing. 
“I don’t think that will stop him if he decides he wants to. Evan might bite you too.”
“And maybe a hungry Gryffindor if I get between them and breakfast?”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “As long as it’s not my brother. You might get rabies.”
“Are we sure that Junior doesn’t have that?”
“No.”
You start laughing harder than before. Somehow during your entire time outside, you never looked in Sirius’ direction and never saw him watching you.
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tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn
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peppermintquartz · 3 days ago
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(felt like adding something to this)
Buck stumbles out of bed and gets to his door before the knocking gets any more agitated. No one has texted him to say they're coming over, so it may be an irate neighbor here to complain about the KitchenAid.
He's not ready to see Tommy standing outside in a black fitted tee and tight jeans.
Tommy looks... different, in the week since he walked out on Buck. His shoulders aren't rounded and his posture is perfect. There's a sharpness to his jaw and his hair is gelled with a swoop. And he's wearing boots instead of his usual sneakers.
"Evan?"
Buck blinks. Something is wrong. This isn't how Tommy says his name, unless Tommy really doesn't -
"Tommy."
"No, not Tommy. I'm Donovan. Tommy is my younger brother - twins." He flashes a smile, and it's so similar to Tommy yet so different that Buck's mind is reeling. "He was supposed to introduce us next week, when I have time to come and stay for the weekend."
Inhaling sharply, Buck takes a step back. "He has a twin. Six months... What other secrets did he have? Maybe he's not even gay! M-maybe he has a, a wife and three kids and that's why-"
"Hey, Evan, breathe. Relax."
"Don't call me Evan," Buck snaps at Not-Tommy. Donovan. "Shit. This is... This is bullshit."
Donovan steps back and holds up his hands. "I don't know what I'm supposed to call you, because Tommy only ever talked about his 'boyfriend Evan' to me."
"Buck. You can call me Buck."
"And I prefer Rocker." Rolling his eyes at Buck's quizzical frown, he says, "Tommy and I are twins that didn't grow up together. Since we were eight, we've been living with different parents. Divorce. Mom got me, Dad got him. It sucked for Tommy and Mom tried her best, but, well."
"Still doesn't explain why Tommy didn't mention a twin."
"Look, can we talk inside?" Rocker asks.
Buck folds his arms and blocks the door. "No."
"Dude, I just wanna-"
"Donny!" The shout comes from the elevator. Buck looks over and his heart skips three beats. It's Tommy, the real one, and he looks an absolute mess. He's a little broader in the jaw and the features of his face softer, gentler. He's not shaven, there are bags under his eyes, and his hair is frizzy and tangled in the longer parts. The shirt he has on is a size larger and his jeans are relaxed fit and he has his blue Reeboks on.
That's his Tommy.
(His. His his his his his.)
"I'm trying to help," Rocker says, his hands on his hips.
Tommy makes a face and his mouth goes thin and unhappy. "You can't just show up at my boyfriend's place - ex-boyfriend. I meant." He clears his throat and glances at Buck. "Sorry. We'll leave."
"Hell we are," says Rocker. He slings an arm around his twin's waist and catches Tommy's free arm before he can land a punch. "Baby bro, I've taken down armed men who want to kill me. Your efforts are futile."
"You're the fucking worst."
Buck stares at the two, and exhales heavily. Stranger things have happened. He steps aside and says, "I've a walnut loaf and an apple pie that needs eating. Come on in."
As Tommy is dragged past him, Buck says, "If you call me Buck, I'll whack you with a rolling pin."
Donovan Rocker tilts his head and a delighted smile creeps onto his face. "Oh, so that's why I can't call you Evan!"
"This had better be good," Buck grumbles, even though he's secretly happy to shut and lock the door with Tommy in here with him. His brother can find his own way down from the balcony.
"Donny, not today."
"Hell you mean not today," Donovan Rocker pushes his way into his twin brother's house. "You drunk called me, crying about your boyfriend whom you were supposed to introduce to me next week, saying that you broke up 'for his own good', and you think I won't take a couple days off to check on you? Fat chance, fathead."
Tommy groans and drops onto his sofa. "Whatever, man."
"What happened?"
"He asked me to move in with him."
"Tommy that's awesome! You love the guy!"
Tommy cracks open an eye. "Donny, he didn't even tell me he loves me. And I have a fucking house, okay? I have a whole damned house which you are sitting in."
Rocker makes a face. "Did you say that to him?"
"Like that's gonna make a difference." Tommy shuts his eyes and tilts his head back. "Fuck. Fuck all this. At least now he doesn't have to know how shitty I am."
Humming in sympathy, Rocker sits next to Tommy and carefully gathers his twin into a hug. Tommy resists a little at first, but then gives in to lie on Rocker's shoulder, curling his socked feet onto the cushions.
"Sometimes I think Mom should've fought harder to have custody of us both," Rocker says quietly, after a while. "She'd have got that low self-esteem out of you somehow."
"Yeah, well. Wishes and horses."
Rocker kisses the top of his twin's head. "I'll stay here tonight, baby bro. Seems like you need someone in your corner."
"I'm only eight minutes younger," Tommy grumbles, but he doesn't chase Rocker away; his arms wrap more tightly around his twin, pretending it's not a different body he wants in his embrace.
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cottonlemonade · 20 hours ago
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Dating You For A Bet [Part 3]
word count: 2145 || avg. reading time: 9 mins.
pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader
genre: angst, comfort
warnings: like one time swearing
[part 1] [part 2]
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As soon as the dorm room door closed behind you, your shoes were practically flung off your feet. With a deeply satisfied sigh you stretched and wiggled your toes, slowly feeling the numbness subside. You weren’t used to wearing heels but thought that a third date called for the occasion.
“How was it?”
Confused, you turned around as if your roommate could have possibly meant anyone else. She hardly ever spoke with you so this was absolutely a first.
She was sitting cross-legged on her bed, computer on her lap, and brushed her headphones from one ear.
“The… date?”, you asked cautiously, standing frozen in front of the wardrobe like a deer caught in headlights.
The other girl nodded.
“It was… nice?”
“Just nice?”
“He was sweet.”
“That was your second one this week, right? Are you gonna keep seeing him?”
“I’m sorry. I’m still trying to figure out why you’re talking to me.”
She shrugged.
“Because I’m curious.” When you still didn’t say anything, she explained, “I’ve heard all over campus what happened, and… it sucks what your ex did. And I saw how sad you were about it but I’m also really impressed with how you’re handling it now. I guess I just wanna say that at first, I thought it was a really dumb rumor because you were both so obsessed with each other. It didn’t make any sense.”
That brought you out of your stupor. You turned to put your jacket back in the closet and tossed the shoes carelessly into the void somewhere to other disregarded things.
“Yeah.”, you said after a small pause.
“Do you think you’ll get back together?”
Now it was on you to shrug.
“Why d’you ask?”
Your roommate turned the laptop so you could see. It was a live feed of the current varsity volleyball match. Issei was just being switched out and the camera stayed on him as the coach kept talking very fast and gesturing towards the court in an unmistakably urgent manner. Issei simply bowed his head and nodded to his shoes, kneading the pads of his fingers against the water bottle like he always had done when he was anxious. The clip was only about five seconds long but it was obvious that when he turned around to look at the stands behind him he was searching for someone.
Your roommate moved the laptop back so that the screen was facing her again.
“He has been off all game.”
“Well… too bad.”, you said and grabbed your towel and shower caddy.
With three days left until Christmas, the first snow fell. After your tear-filled kiss with Issei at the bench two weeks ago he had left you alone. No more notes, no more loitering around waiting to talk to you and you wondered if this was really how it would be from now on. You figured that finding out you were dating someone else had spooked him into hiding. However, just as you were sure you would never speak another word with him you heard a commotion outside your door. Calls and hollerings were echoing through the hallway from the girls on your floor and you and your roommate both looked up from your essays to then exchange a questioning head tilt with each other. The large pizza carton between you was pushed aside and, brushing your greasy hands off on your washed-out sweats, you got up to see what was going on. When you opened the door you saw four guys hunched over with their heads ducked between their shoulders looking as uncomfortable as can be. Issei, meanwhile, was pushing a fifth down the corridor toward your room. You recognized them now. It had taken a few seconds without their usual sneers.
Your ex had them stand in a row in front of you and then all but one knelt down. Issei gave the last one a tap with his foot on the back of the knee to make him match the others. Heads hung low and hands resting on their thighs, one after the other bowed in deepest apology with their foreheads almost touching the linoleum. The middle one, whom you remembered as the idiot who suggested the bet, began to speak as Issei stood behind them all, arms crossed, a smirk on his lips.
“Y/n-san,”, the middle one said, “we’re very sorry for… for the whole thing.”
Issei cleared his throat. All the girls from the surrounding doors giggled and kept their phones focused on them to film while you were gaping like a fish.
“- for making the bet about you. It was terrible and immature and you didn’t deserve to be treated like that. We ask for your forgiveness.” A general murmur of apologies went through the row of kneeling guys.
“Here.”, the middle one fished a crinkly envelope from his hoodie and held it up to you with both hands, “This is the money from the bet. Please accept it.”
“No, why would I want your money?”, you replied in disbelieving disgust.
“Okay.”, your roommate weighed in quietly and slipped past you, snatching the envelope, “I’ll be taking that.”
You frowned at her.
She raised her hands in defense. “Pride and integrity are great and all but we are still students at the end of the day. This will at least fund next month’s pizza parties. I’m just saying.” And she retreated behind you, adding, “Carry on.”
“Just leave me alone and don’t ever talk to or about me ever again. And the sooner you realize that you are nothing but pathetic worms that peaked in high school the sooner you can go to therapy which you obviously need.”
The boys seemed to wait for something, then Issei said, “You heard her. Fuck off.”
All five scrambled to their feet and pushed through the audience of sniggering girls to get away.
Incredulously, you looked at Issei who was very obviously very satisfied with himself.
“How did you even…?”
He chuckled and shrugged as the surrounding crowd slowly dispersed and went back into their rooms and about their days.
“You didn’t beat them up, did you?”
“Worse.”
He walked over to you and leaned casually against your doorframe.
“I called their moms.”
Your roommate snorted and went back to her essay.
There was a pause in which Issei realized that for the first time since the breakup, you didn’t regard him with the previous hurt or anger. His smirk faded into a small unsure smile and he switched between glancing at you and his hands, “You look pretty.”, he muttered, then pushed himself off the doorframe, “Have a good night.”
The clip of the five guys kneeling in front of your door (from varying angles) was all over the campus forum for days giving you finally a different sort of spotlight and leading your fellow students to turn their attention and energy to hackling the bet-makers rather than you. It was a welcome change of pace.
On Christmas morning then you were bundled up tightly in your coat and scarf and trudged through the freshly fallen snow on your way to the library where you would pretend to study while in all honesty, you would just be scrolling on your phone. All just to escape the omnipresent merriment. You had to walk past Issei’s dorm, something you had avoided doing for weeks and instead had taken the much longer route.
“Y/n!”, you heard a shout from overhead and when you looked up into the soft flurry of snow you spotted Issei waving from his window, “Wait there for a moment!”
Two flights of stairs later, Issei jogged through the lobby towards the glass front door to hold it open. “Could you come up for a second, please? - It’s nothing weird, I promise.”, he added when he saw your skeptically raised brow.
You followed him silently until you reached his door.
With a flourish, he opened his room and was met with a wall of smell from a whole bunch of different essential oils. He coughed and flitted into the room to open the window again, using a notepad to fan the air. The whole room was decorated with candles and garlands and even a small fake Christmas tree that obviously had needed a bit of persuasion to stand up straight on the bedside table.
“Sorry.”, he pressed out in between coughs, “I went around the whole building for candles but they all just had scented ones.” He kept feverishly fanning the icy cold air into the room, ignoring the thick snowflakes landing on and soaking through his pillow. A long dead plant in a pot on the windowsill caught the flame of a candle as he waved around the notepad and began to slowly burn to a crisp. “Oh!” He tossed the notepad onto the bed and grabbed the mostly empty can of an energy drink to pour over it.
“Anyways.”, Issei turned around as if nothing had happened and cleared his throat, “You once told me that you were kinda dreading Christmas because you couldn’t go see your family and I promised that I would spend Christmas with you and make it fun, so!” He jumped to his dresser and retrieved a red tin containing slightly burned, painstakingly decorated sugar cookies and handed them to you. Then he turned around and rummaged under his bed until he pulled out a Santa hat and reindeer antlers that he placed on top of the tin in your hands, “I also have your favorite Christmas movies -”, he waved toward his laptop, “you don’t have to watch them with me, of course, but they’re there if you like - and”, he picked up a note from his desk, “here is the list we made of all the Christmas activities that you wanted to do. We can go through them one by one.” You noticed how the paper shook slightly in his hand and how he swallowed a lump that seemingly had formed in his throat while awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. “Mistletoe is kinda inappropriate now but I guess you can… slap me instead if we’re both under it. But the snow is good for a snowball fight and to build a snowman and make snow angels and-“
“Issei!”, you said firmly to stop his ramblings, “This is really nice of you but I’m not in the mood to play in the snow right now.”
“Right… uhm.”, his eyes darted back to the paper in his hand for another idea, “We can go to the coffee shop for that holiday drink I told you about.”, he suggested excitedly instead.
“I… already went and tried it last week with my roommate.”
“Oh…”
“Yeah.”
“Did you like it?”
“It was nice, yeah.”
“Good. Good.” After a short pause, he followed up with, “I’m glad.”
He then hesitated, opened his mouth as if to say something, then closed it again and put the list back on his desk.
You looked around the room - the leftover paper shreds next to the trash can from the cutout snowflakes, the wonky bow on top of the cookie tin, the over-laden Christmas tree. All the effort and genuine thought he had put into everything at the very least made you want to accept his peace offering.
“I wouldn’t mind having it again, though.”, you heard yourself mumble.
“Really? You sure?”
You shrugged.
“Alright, lemme grab my jacket.”
“You should put out the candles.”
“Right!”
“Alright, order placed.”, he announced when he sat down across from you, holding up the little buzzer that would let you know about your drinks.
“How have you been?”, he asked.
“Good. Better. I aced that exam I was so worried about.”
“Knew you had it in your pocket.”, Issei smiled and turned the buzzer nervously in his fingers.
“Let me just tell you that I know there is no excuse for what I did. But know that I am not done apologizing for it. You are everything to me and I am kicking myself every day for not realizing it the moment I saw you. You deserve nothing but the best and I’m glad you found someone who can make you happy.”
“Thank you.”, you allowed yourself to smile, “I appreciate that.”
“So… what’s he like?”, he asked, trying very hard to sound casual.
“Who?”
“Your new boyfriend. Do I know him?”
“Well uhm, he isn’t my boyfriend.”
“Oh?” His fingers turning the buzzer slowed ever so slightly.
“Yeah it just…”, you sighed and shrugged, “didn’t work out.”
You would under no circumstances ever tell him that it was because you had called him Issei while he kissed you. You would take that to the grave.
“Aw, that’s too bad.”
“You know this would be a whole lot more convincing if you weren’t grinning like an idiot.”, you smiled.
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taglist: @samoankpoper21 @reikashe @jasminelee324
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