#if you fill this out for mma's it's almost all covered

[mrskokushibo]

Warnings: MDNI, NSFW, Smut, Sex, 18+.

Plot: Your friends take you out for a girls' night to watch an MMA fight, where one of the fighters, Ryomen Sukuna, is a notorious hottie. Will this be the night you finally meet the man who will truly rock the foundations of your world?

Cover artwork by the amazing @innaillus 🙏❤️

Masterlist

The sound in the arena was getting louder as more people were streaming in, filling up the stands. You were looking around curious, taking in all the impressions. It was your very first time attending a fight of any kind, let alone an MMA one. You knew what it was all about as you saw it on TV, but being at the venue in person was an entirely different experience. The booming base of peppy rock music was blending with the chatter of people and an occasional announcement from the conferencier.

Your seats were in the VIP section just next to the ring. Your bestie, Bec, organised this for you all as a treat, a girls’ night out, away from your crappy love lives and mundane jobs. She slept around a lot and seemed to have connections anywhere and everywhere. You often joked, that somehow, she would be the one to land some rich dude eventually. You wished you were this open, but you always seemed to attract assholes, so you almost gave up on dating actively.

You were also the quieter one in your friend group and, just like now, you sat on the edge of the action, taking in all the impression in silence. You enjoyed being around people as long, as they let you be you. And that is why you were so close to your friends. They accepted you exactly the way you were.

Your drinks arrived and you were now sitting and sipping on a beer and snacking on some hot chips. You were facing the ring and were studying it closely. You have seen boxing rings before, but this one was different. It had a cage around it. This made you think a little as to how violent was the fighting if the fighters needed to be caged in like this.

‘Excited?’

You were interrupted by Bec, who was now leaning over the others to be able to make herself heard over the surrounding commotion.

You nodded with your mouth full of chips and beer.

‘You know…’ She leaned in a little closer to you.

‘One of the fighters is supposedly an official hottie. I saw pictures of him and damn, girl. I would fuck him even if I was on my deathbed.’

Well, you could easily imagine Bec doing something like that and you chuckled. A dirty mind in such a kind and smart person. She was the most accomplished of your friend group. A corporate lawyer, spending a lot of time working pro bono helping underprivileged clients. She, on the other hand, always called you a superhero. That is what she thought nurses were. And you did work in a huge, busy, public hospital, trying to make the stay more bearable for your patients. Who, by the way, always got very attached to you, probably due to your kind and caring nature?

‘We will see if I think the same as you. He might not be my type.’

You grinned and winked at Bec, who immediately shook her head while swallowing her drink.

‘Oh, but no, my dear. Trust me on this one. Since you have a pussy, you will get attracted to him. Instant squirt. I’m telling ya.’

She grinned in her typical mischievous manner while you were shaking your head at her over-sexualized tirade.

She was just about to say something more, but the lights went out for a moment and the conferencier began to welcome the audience, announcing the imminent start of the fight.

‘First out. The king of knockouts, the one and only, Ryomen Sukuna.’

As the name was announced the crowd went wild, lights turned blood red and music went from upbeat rock to very loud heavy metal. In the corner of your eye, you could make out the contour of Bec making the ‘thumbs up’ gesture in your direction.

When he entered the ring, you automatically realised what Bec was talking about. This man was … perfect. Everything about him screamed ‘sex’. A strong, perfectly toned body, spiked pink-dyed hair with a natural black undercut. His eyes were those of a large predator, slightly narrow and with a confident and playful look. His face was handsome and masculine and had a friendly look to it. And then there were the tattoos. Black, symmetrical markings on his face and chest and black bands on his wrists, biceps, thighs, and ankles. He reminded you of a powerful and wild tiger. You were in a state of awe and yes, Bec was right, you were getting a little aroused.

He was strutting around the ring, exuding pure confidence, and blowing sweet kisses, waving, and winking to the audience. All smiles and joy, this was someone obviously not to mess with in a ring.

The conferencier announced the entry of the second fighter, but you barely paid attention to him, being so focused on Sukuna. Very soon, the lights in the arena were switched to full power again and the match began with the ring of a bell.

It was like watching a brutal dance, the fighters moving swiftly and with amazing agility. You could only imagine the force behind the blows they were dealing each other as you were watching their powerful muscles flex and bodies break out in a sweat, which made their skin glisten in the strong arena lights.

The game paused for a moment after Sukuna dealt a scary-sounding blow to his opponent. You could almost hear the creaking of bones and tendons as the man’s back hit the cage right in front of you. The man was not knocked out, but his team was tending to his bloodied face, cleaning him up for continued fighting.

And that is when it happened. Sukuna was leaning leisurely in his corner of the ring, rolling his head in a stretch, and looking around at the audience as if he was sitting in a bar doing some people-watching instead of being in the middle of a fight. His eyes were moving around the perimeter and when they reached you, his head stopped and he smiled and winked in your direction. You froze but also felt a few butterflies rise to flight inside your belly, causing the waterworks between your legs to go into a state of high flow. Bec saw what happened and was now doing a double ‘thumbs up’ in your direction.

Soon, the ring rang again and the fight continued. But not for long, as Sukuna’s now completely exhausted opponent was slammed into the cage once again, but this time, he remained laying down on the floor of the ring. The audience was in absolute uproar, chanting ‘Ry-o-men, Ry-o-men’ and ‘Hail Thy King’ almost in unison. The referee began the count over the fallen fighter, but he did not get up. A clean knockout. The ref walked up to Sukuna, grabbed his hand, and raising it in a sign of victory, screaming out into the microphone: ‘Ryomen Sukuna wins by knockout.’ The crowd went even louder and the noise was now almost deafening. But as the fighters left the ring, the crowd settled down and it was all finished just as quickly as it began.

You felt a little tricked by the speed of it all. It would have been great to watch the sexy Ryomen for a while longer. But, oh well, all good things come to an end.

The crowd began its exodus out of the arena and soon enough, the city air hit you in the face with its’ smog and smells. Your group headed off to the nearby nightclub, Bec holding you under your arm, discussing the match and the very sexy Mr Sukuna.

The line to the club moved quickly and a few minutes later you and your friends were occupying a booth in the immediate vicinity of the dance floor. The music was already too loud to have a decent conversation, but you all were so used to losing your voices after a night out that the conversation flowed easily despite the high decibels emitted from the speakers.

The evening went on as usual, with drinks, and complaining about existing, ex-, and potential boyfriends. You danced, drank some more and very soon Bec was being dragged away to the dance floor by some hunk she chatted up at the bar.

It was your turn to get more drinks and honestly, you were promising yourself that this was the last round and then it was straight home for you. But as you were standing in front of the bar, waiting your turn, something caught your attention and changed the course of your evening.

"Well, well, well. Whom do we have here?" The sexy, husky, and playful masculine voice, whose owner you couldn't yet see, momentarily drowned out all other noises, including the deep pumping base of the club.

When you turned around to see who the voice belonged to, you must have really looked startled as the tall guy right in front of you now, smiled and ran his hand through his hair with an apologetic look on his face.

‘Sorry, I did not mean to scare you… Are you alright?’ He touched your shoulder lightly and leaned down to you. ‘I will leave you be if I annoy you.’

Quickly, you regained your composure. The owner of the voice was no one else but the sexy fighter from a couple of hours ago, Ryomen Sukuna. You felt like slapping your own cheek partly to check that you are not dreaming and partly for your stupid and awkward reaction.

‘Yes, yes, of course, I am all right. And…you are anything but annoying.’ You smiled and stretched out your hand to him to make up for the previous lack of social skills.

‘I am (y/n), and you are Ryomen, right?’

‘Yes, that is right. You have a good memory.’ * So…he did notice you at the match…How interesting…*

‘I was just about to grab a drink. Anything you would like?’ You asked him unassumingly. He smiled and shook his head.

‘Shit, I’m the one who should be buying YOU a drink. But ok, go ahead. Whiskey on the rocks for me.’

He followed you to the bar and you both sat down as they were vacant seats right in front of you and might just as well not stand while waiting.

‘With the risk of sounding like a creep. Are you here alone?’

He looked almost a bit embarrassed at having posed such a question, but you quickly eased his mood by telling him all about your girls’ night out. When you pointed and waved to your friends, Bec was not there, but when you scanned the place, you could see her making out with some tall, dark-haired dude at the far end of the dancefloor. Right. God old Bec…

The drinks were put in front of you and you chose to stay where you were. He leaned on his elbow, swirling his drink, his narrowed eyes studying you in silence for a moment. His lips twitched in a small, fluttering smile. His eyes were moving across your figure and you began to feel heat spread in your underbelly.

‘So…is this like the place to relax after your fights?’ You chose to break the silence. ‘And by the way…are you here alone? Asking with the risk of sounding like a creep.’ You chuckled a little.

‘As a matter of fact, I am. Here alone. Well, now at least. My team usually goes out here to celebrate, but everyone needed to get home early. I was also about to leave, but then I spotted you.’

He took a sip and kept on swirling his drink while making small talk about the venue and his training routines. You told him about your work and hobbies. But when you both finished your drinks, he suddenly stood up and stretched out his hand.

‘Come, let’s dance, hm?’

You followed him sheepishly, the music slow enough for a very close-up dance, so obviously in no time at all, you were gently swayed in his embrace. He was wearing tight, black jeans and an equally tight white t-shirt, the expensive type. No jewelry, no watch, the only thing adorning him being the stylish tats and of course his meticulously styled hair. He was very tall, much taller than you and you could rest your head on his chest with ease. You could feel the muscles, he was so warm too, like a furnace. He smelled of bergamot, sandalwood, and myrrh. With your eyes closed you found yourself hugging him tighter and your hips instinctively grinding against his.

You continued like this into the next song, and then to the next, slowly losing track of time, his hands wandering down to your waist and his nose nudging your forehead, to get your mouth’s attention, which very soon led to your lips connecting into a slow kiss. The surge of lust rushing through you pushed you even deeper into his embrace, you wanted to drown in him. And you also wanted him to ask you to go to his place, or your place, or just drag you to a back alley and fuck you senseless. But instead, he pulled away from the kiss and looked you deep in the eyes.

‘It is getting late… You know, as much as I would like to offer you more tonight, I am a bit old-fashioned, so this is as far as we go. But…why don’t you join me for dinner tomorrow?’

You could not say you weren’t disappointed, but whether intentional or not, his move made him essentially irresistible in an instant. Before he walked you over to your friend group, you exchanged numbers and he promised to be in touch in the morning.

Your friends kept quiet when you were saying your goodbyes, but as soon as he left, they all high-fived you. Their booze-fuelled questioning and cheering of your dating success kept on going all the way until the taxi stopped outside of your apartment building and you were finally free to take in what happened earlier tonight. You could barely sleep that night, luckily for you the next day was your day off, so you weren’t all too worried about the perspective of looking like a zombie for your date. If there was to be a date, that is. But as far as sleep went, you would catch up with a nap or two during the day anyway.

You dozed off at around 4 am only to be woken up again by the message ping of your phone at exactly 10 am. With shaking hands, you picked up the heavy rectangular device, and to your surprise and excitement it was from him. There was no hesitation with opening the message, your fingers quickly pressing on the bold unread text. And there it was:

‘Dinner at 6 pm? Just to give you heads up, we are going to (name of one of the best restaurants in town) I will pick you up. Can you give me your address, please?. xoxo / Ryomen’

*Shit, shit, shit.* You had nothing that elegant to wear. The urge to go shopping suddenly became overwhelming and you decided to skip breakfast and instead grab a takeaway coffee on the way, and eat something in town instead, after you shopped. You texted him your address and ventured out.

You hated shopping in panic and of course, just because you were looking, you didn’t find anything to buy. *Nice. So now what?*

You got home disappointed and began rummaging through your closet. Eventually, you settled for your favourite little black dress, heels, and a classic simple Swarovsky-crystal choker. A classic look, even though to you, it was how you saw yourself on nearly every date for the last year. It was too late to do anything about it now. You decided to take a nap and when you woke up, after a quick snack and another coffee, you got ready in your usual not-too-overdone manner. *Alright, this will have to do.*

Before you managed to put your shoes on, your phone pinged again.

‘I’m outside.’

You looked out your window and you could not help but stare at the gorgeous sportscar parked just outside of your gate. Almost running through the hall, you put your heels on and rushed down to meet him. At a closer look, the car was a brilliant black Acura NSX. A rather rare car, but what else would you expect of someone like Sukuna.

As you walked up to the vehicle, the door opened and there he was, nimbly jumping out of the car, walking up to you and embracing you into a kiss.

‘You look amazing.’ He whispered in your ear.

But in your eyes, it was him that looked…amazing. He was wearing a black suit styled casually with an expensive black t-shirt and stylish all-black-leather Vans slip-ons. His hair was immaculately spiked and today he was wearing a whole bunch of piercings in his ears.

When you were done with your greetings, he opened the passenger door for you and as you got seated, he closed the door behind you and then jumped into his seat. He smiled at you before starting the engine. The roar was guttural and the vibrations were hitting your core just as much as the presence of the very charming man next to you. You did not notice your surroundings as all the way to the restaurant you were too focused on his presence and your conversation.

At last, the car slowed down and you arrived at the restaurant located in the middle of the business district. He parked the car just outside of the entrance and gave the keys to the concierge. As he led you in, you were almost taken aback by the interior of the luxurious eatery. It was a Japanese/Western fusion restaurant, with none less than two Michelin stars on its resume. The walls were graphite grey, illuminated by dim lanterns cleverly placed, creating a pattern of shadows cast by the intricate pottery standing on tall, oriental side tables. The kitchen was completely open and located in the middle of the dining room, covered by the branches of a large, heavily pruned Sakura tree.

The tables were placed around the kitchen, allowing the guests a full view of the spectacle the chefs were putting on.

A waiter in traditional Japanese attire led you both to your table and very soon you were enjoying a meal like no other you have ever experienced. Dish after dish, one more exotic than the other was brought out to you, accompanied by vintage wines and sake.

The whole time, the two of you were talking almost non-stop, you were amazed at how well-versed and educated he was. Not what you expected out of someone who essentially beats people up for a living. Beneath the friendly and civilised conversation, the sexual tension was steadily building up for nearly every bite you took.

When the main meal was finished and you wiped your mouth with the thick, linen napkin and cleaned off your hands with a warm, wet towel provided by the waiter, he took your hand and held it gently, massaging the inside of your palm with his thumb. His eyes were narrowed and a delicate smile lit up his sharp features. A heavy blush was spreading underneath your make-up. Your mouth was getting dry and you felt warmth spread inside you.

‘Do you have room for dessert? They make this amazing matcha mochi here… You should try it.’

He was speaking slowly, and it was almost as if he was beginning the seduction ritual, because his movements followed the slower speech and the pink of his eyes was growing darker by the minute, with what you only could read as pure, unadulterated lust.

You bit your bottom lip and shuffled in your seat. You were getting wet. But going home was not an option yet. It is now that the game was just beginning. The foreplay before foreplay. Teasing and small touches drove you to the brink of what your body could endure without literally throwing yourself at him.

‘Yes, I would like to try it. And maybe some coffee to go with it?’

You cocked your head and smiled knowing very well you needed a lot of coffee for what was coming.

The sweets and coffee arrived soon after you placed the order.

You speared some of the mochi with your fork and deliberately slowly put it in your mouth, sliding the fork out with a painfully delayed motion, that made your lips pout out. You licked them discretely in a seductive manner and gave him a small smile while looking him deep in the eye.

He bit his bottom lip and his eyes narrowed again.

‘I see that you are enjoying your dessert.’

He took a sip of his coffee and smiled at you.

‘It is good to stock up on extra energy sometimes.’

You both smiled at each other and kept eating in silence while exchanging hungry looks.

As soon as you finished dessert, he called in the waiter, paid and you both left almost in a hurry. The air outside was cold already and you huddled with him while waiting for the concierge to bring out the car.

You couldn’t get into it fast enough, and once you were buckled up, the engine roared again, pushing your arousal into an even higher gear.

He placed his hand on your thigh and began rubbing the soft flesh just above where your stocking ended and garter straps took over. He did not move the hand an inch, just stayed like this, teasing you and glancing your way with that charming smile that by now had you go instantly wet.

A moment later and the car was driving into an underground garage. He finally let go of your thigh, jumped out of the car, and walked over to your side to open the door for you. As you were getting out, he caught you in his embrace, closed the car door, and began kissing you. He pushed you against the car and had his hand stroke your cheeks and neck, for now still clothed breasts and hips.

You had your hands on his neck, running them through the coarse black hair of the undercut, making him moan quietly.

‘I guess I am not very old-fashioned tonight.’

He spoke in between kisses, his husky voice going straight into your core.

‘Let’s go upstairs, hm? Or would you like me to be old-fashioned and take you home?’

He was teasing you, knowing that going home was the last thing on your mind at this point.

You only shook your head in reply and smiled biting your lower lip. Without a word, he took you by the hand and you began walking toward the elevator, that was already on the garage level. He pressed the highest number on the panel and soon you were pressed against something again, this time the elevator wall while being kissed by your excruciatingly hot lover-to-be.

Out of the elevator, into the apartment, the two of you simply kept kissing, both his and your hands exploring the other in an increasingly adventurous manner. He was starting to breathe a bit heavier and his tongue was swirling frenetically in your mouth, having a little wrestle with yours.

You didn’t have much of a chance to have a look at his place, you were too preoccupied with him to notice your surroundings. He was gently pushing you toward a large black sofa in the middle of the open-plan space. As he reached it, he removed his suit jacket tossing it to the side, then spun you around slowly, sitting down and taking you with him onto his lap. You were now straddling him and pressing your chest to his.

‘Mmm, I didn’t think we would end up like this so quickly.’

‘Are you telling me you have a hard time getting girls to come home with you?’ Your voice hitching through the heavy breathing and kissing.

‘Maybe… maybe not. But you didn’t seem like the easy type.’

‘Because I am not, but you made it easy for me to not be as restrained as I normally am.’ You nibbled at his lip.

‘Is that so? I am flattered…’

He kissed your neck and began to move his hands onto your ass, squeezing the softness with his solid wrestler's hands, sliding them up to your waist, and then repeating the lewd massage while continuing the kiss. You were literally ready to have him take you on the sofa, but he obviously enjoyed the foreplay quite a bit. You could feel his hardness and he must have been surely very aware of how wet you were with only a thin layer of black lace separating your seeping pussy from him. Grinding yourself on him in encouragement was your next instinctive move toward what you really wanted to happen, but he just kept roaming his hands all over you as if he could not get enough of the anticipation.

You shifted your focus to his face to distract yourself, tracing the outlines of his tattoos, forehead, down to his cheeks and then chin, and then all the way up the other side of his face. His eyes were closed in pleasure and he reminded you of a wild cat all over again, just as he did the day before in the ring.

‘This feels nice. You have such a soft touch. Don’t stop…please.’

So, you kept tracing and now also kissing the black lines on his face, making him purr and moan. But you wanted more, to see the marks on his torso, arms, and thighs…maybe there were more in other, intimate places? The thrill of being so close to someone that only yesterday was a distant figure in the spotlight of fame was consuming you and fuelling your arousal.

You pulled off his t-shirt, exposing the long-awaited sight to your starved eyes. The marks started at the base of his neck, spanning from down his back and onto his chest, and down again toward his abs. These tattoos were wider and less intricate than the ones on his face, making him look quite tough, if you were to be asked. You kissed his toned chest and run your fingers across his biceps and down his long, strong arms. Your hands were moving as if with a mind of their own, trying to touch all of his upper body all at once. The need to have him much closer to you than this was growing stronger with every touch.

When you were about to lose your patience, he put his hands at the hem of your dress and began pulling it up. You lifted yourself up on your knees to help him get it off and once the dress was off, his hands latched on to your breasts, massaging until you were nearly out of breath from pleasure and moaning. You kept grinding against him harder.

‘So eager…’ He kissed your breasts while removing your bra and once freed, your breasts were now supported by his cupped hands with the right nipple rolled between his lips. You moaned loudly and made him intensify the action to see how much more noise he could get out of you.

When you began tugging at his belt, he stopped.

‘I think we will be more comfortable in the bedroom.’

You got off him quickly and he followed suit, taking your hand and leading you out of the lounge area and into a smaller room next to the kitchen part of the open-plan living space. The bedroom was dimly lit by warm wall lights and all you could make out was a double bed in the middle of the room and a large TV hanging on the wall opposite the bed. There were, what looked like a couple of Bonzai trees here and there, but that was about all you had time to spot before your attention was stolen once again by Ryomen.

He was now kissing you and unbuckling his belt, you looked down while he was unzipping his pants and sliding them off, uncovering a pair of tight, black boxershorts, stretched snug on top of the hardness of his erection. You swallowed and looked up at his face again and putting both thumbs under the hem of his underwear, you were taking them off quickly.

His cock popped out and it was perfect. Not too big and not too small, the kind of girth and length, that your experience already told you would make you a very satisfied woman.

‘You like what you see?’ Your hungry look was so apparent to him now.

‘Mmm, in fact, I do…’ You dragged your fingers gently on the top of his shaft, kicked off your heels, and climbed onto the bed, supported on your elbows, slowly spreading your legs for him. All you were wearing now were your stockings, garter belt, and a minuscule lace g-string.

He jumped onto the bed with the agility of a leopard and crawled the rest of the short distance dividing you both.

‘Glad to have the King of Knockouts all to yourself?’ He chuckled and smiled in a cocky manner.

‘Yes, very glad.’ You placed your arms around his neck as he was now on top of you, making nearly full body contact.

‘You know, I didn’t expect such a good girl to get this naughty this quickly.’

‘Oh, but even angels need to fall sometimes.’ Your voice was muffled by the kisses he was landing on you while his hands were busy exploring your body.

He pulled away and looked down at the remainder of your garment.

‘You don’t need these, do you now?’ He followed his rhetorical question by rolling the whole lot of you and tossing it aside.

‘Where were we…’ He was now back on top of you, grinding into your folds with his delicious dick.

‘Ah, I think you seem to want me inside you, right? You are very wet…’ His hand was rubbing you roughly between your legs.

‘Yes...please.’

He chuckled and moved his hand from your pussy to his dick, positioning himself at your entrance. He moved his arm back to your side and once in the position to move, he entered your aching and clenching core without any more hesitation.

You were now in full moaning mode, not caring anymore about trying to sound half switched on, the words coming out of your mouth were blabber as you could feel his dick pry its way into you. Your bodies were slowly connecting and synchronising to the rhythm of sex. The feel of his naked body on yours, the softness of close skin-on-skin contact, so sensual, so intimate, so…lascivious. For every thrust of his hips, you were carried away further and further from reality, and yet this was one of the most real, primeval activities a human could engage in. The duality of sex always puzzled you, made for procreation, but executed to fulfill lustful desires.

His love-making was slow in its action, but intense in feel. The heat of his breath when he kissed you was as if he was branding you as his, the gentle, but firm touch of his knotty fingers was sending nerve impulses that traveled not only to your deepest and most aroused core but were slowly but surely opening the doors to your soul.

Every inch of your skin, every muscle and nerve was seeking him, trying to get closer than the physicality of flesh would allow, his strained breath was now your breath. You practiced your ritual in silence, only accompanied by the wet squelching of your sexes joined in their communion and the slapping of flesh. Lewd and holy at the same time. You were near the limit of what you could take before releasing all the pent-up tension your core gathered up over the past two days. As your climax washed over you, the scream that came out of your mouth was almost that of someone else, a primal woman, unleashed and free, reveling in the glory of the pleasure one human could gift to another.

You were still shaking from your orgasm, almost half-conscious from the discharge of impulses. The squelching was louder, as your climax opened your floodgates, drenching you both. Wet and sloppy, he kept on thrusting, but much harder and faster now, chasing his own high, his toned, magnificent body beginning to flex its muscles.

‘Can I come inside you?’

‘Yes, of course, I took precaution…’

And a few moments later, his abdomen was contracting pushing his hips further into you in a few deep thrusts, granting him a full release, painting your insides with his warm seed.

Breathing heavily, he rolled over onto his back, taking you with him in a tight hug. Your sexes stayed connected, your thinner cum blended with his thick, creamy semen, running out onto both your thighs and the sheets beneath you. He was rubbing your back gently, kissing the top of your head as you were this much shorter than him. Your head was snuggled comfortably into his wide, strong chest, you could feel the flexing of his muscles as his arms moved across your back and his heartbeat was lulling you almost into a slumber.

‘Please stay the night. I did not get enough of you yet.’

You lifted your head up to look at him with your now slightly hazy eyes.

‘So, you are not kicking me out? I thought you had a lineup of girls waiting for you?’

He smiled and shook his head.

‘Such prejudice… Being famous doesn’t make me a pig, you know. Besides, most chicks are only after my stage persona, not me.’

He kissed your head again, his eyes closed now and a peaceful smile gracing his face.

‘You know…I must thank your friends for taking you out to see my fight. Without them dragging you along, I would have never met you.’

Most likely, he did not realize, how much his words meant to you right now. Was he the one you were waiting for so long? You were willing to take that chance and run with it.

You pulled yourself up to his face and began kissing him again, your tongue hungrily making its way straight through his thin lips into the warmth of his mouth. His dick slid out of you, letting the rest of the aftermath of your fucking run out freely onto his legs.

‘Let’s take a shower. We made a bit of a mess.’

He led you into the spacious bathroom. It was probably the most lavish bathroom you have ever seen, with walls, and floor tiled with black slate, elegant Japanese-style bath standing at the far end, together with all the traditional equipment needed for a bath ritual. The shower was to the right of the tub, large enough for two people to easily move around inside the glass and stone walls.

Well in the shower, you closed your eyes and tilted your head upwards letting the warm waterfall wash your makeup off you, you rubbed it all off quickly before he could see your smudged face and then let the water rinse the residue of the sex off your lower body. He came into the shower and stood pressed to your back, letting his hands wander all over your chest and belly. Your arousal was already at its peak again and you moved your left hand back to grab his now completely hard cock, while his right hand was playing with your nipple and the left began rubbing your clit.

He pressed you toward the nearest wall, water flowing down on you in unison with the lewd massage he was giving you. You let go of his cock to support yourself with both arms on the wall. He spread your soft ass cheeks to reach your pussy again and bent his knees to compensate for the difference in height, shoving himself into you once more. This time the sex was faster and sloppier. You were barely holding on to the wall while his thrusts were getting stronger, his hands holding your belly and breasts for stability and closeness.

He moved one hand to draw circles around your completely swollen clit. You were drowning in your lust once again. The heat between your legs increased as your nerves were sending more and more pleasure impulses to your brain. You no longer knew if it was water or your slick that was running down your legs, you were this aroused. His sexy lips were kissing and nibbling at your neck and all that was left for you to do was to moan, and moan, and moan.

As his fingers moved faster, rubbing directly on your little pleasure trigger, you gave out one loud moan and then came, shaking in overstimulation as he kept rubbing your nub for a while after your climax passed. He moved his hands onto your hips, stabilising you properly, and increased his pace into a relentless race toward an orgasm. The wet thwacking of his hips into the softness of your ass kept you just barely awake. Luckily, his arousal was just as strong as yours and he came with a quiet growl, almost pushing you flat into the wall.

Panting and almost slouching the two of you got out of the shower drying each other in a drawn-out ritual. You were enjoying touching every part of his body through the cotton of the fresh warm towel, just as much as reveling in the sensation of his hands doing the same to you. Once dry he lifted you off the ground and carried bridal style to the bed, covering you up with a soft, thick but light duvet of pure goose down. He ran over to the kitchen and came back with water for you both and some snacks. While you were both enjoying the well-earned refreshments, you started to feel like sleep was now not far away. Once you were done, he put the tray on the side table and crawled in under the duvet, snuggling up closely to you.

‘I am so glad you chose to stay here with me. In the morning, I will be able to impress you with the best goddamn breakfast you ever had.’

You smiled and nodded in response while kissing him softly, and a moment later, you were both falling asleep, drifting off to, what hopefully, was a future together.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[pandas-pandemonium]

Yandere!Dick Grayson x Isekai!MMA! Reader Excerpt:

aka I felt a craving for new yan!dc content and thought I'd write one myself, and this came out. It's supposed to be the start of Y/N's isekai journey after being knocked out, or rather, killed (or perhaps put into a long coma?) during a fight. They're supposed to be an MMA fighter.

No yandere content in this excerpt. Tbh, I don't know if I want to write a full fic, or if I even have enough material for that. Not even sure how it would go. But for now, I'll keep posting random blurbs and scenes that come to mind, and maybe one day, we'll get a full fic yeah?

Anyways enjoy ahaha.

You can find the Yan!Dick Grayson POV in my reblog after this. Not putting a link now, because Tumblr hides posts with links in 'em from the tag page.

Thud!

Your eyes shot open as the pain of the impact spread throughout your body. Your body felt paralysed, almost, like something was weighing you down. Confusion crept into your nerves, like a snake crawling up a vine, your throat felt tight and your head spun. Whether it was from the impact of hitting the cold concrete pavement or from your mental state, you couldn't tell.

Dark skies. Brightly lit skyscrapers. Dark shadows, creeping across the ground. Neon traffic lights. An... explosion?

With a deep breath, you turned yourself over and shakily pushed yourself off the ground. For a moment, your vision blurred before you managed to steady yourself. You have to get out of here, away from whatever danger is approaching.

You may not know how the hell you got here, or where "here" even is, but you were going to die if you stayed any longer.

Another blast. Nearer this time. A strangled groan escaped your throat as you covered your ears. The noise was deafening and your ears started to ring. You stumbled, and then fell to the ground once again. This time though, you managed to pick yourself as quickly as you fell.

Your breathing felt ragged, even though you had hardly moved. You swore you were healthier than this. The fall earlier must have hurt you more than you thought.

Wait-

Fall?

Why were you falling in the first place?

Your eyes looked up to the skies again. Surely you didn't fall from one of those buildings...right? Your thoughts are interrupt just then, by the sound of breaking glass from the buildings nearby. You see several dark shadows zoom by.

The ringing in your ears intensifies, and you find yourself helpless before it, crumpling down into a ball. Your head pounds, like it's going to cave in on itself. Your breaths quicken as the pain increases. The ringing sharpens, and soon it's all you hear before a flash of white overcomes you.

Faint images of your life pass by, as if you were watching a montage. A scene appears before your eyes:

It's an arena filled with white lights and loud cheers. You were on the defensive against your opponent, who was swinging out punches and kicks without stopping. You grit your teeth, tasting the rubber mouth guard in your mouth. They'll run out of energy soon, and then that's when you'll strike.

Your eyes glance to the clock. 1 minute left. Your breathing changes, taking in slow deep breaths as you observe your opponent. One. Two. High Kick- There!

Your body steps out to their left, and you swing your right arm into their jaw, knocking them back. You're back in control.

One. Two. One. Two. Three. One-

And suddenly your world sways, and your eyes open.

And you're back in this strange world, now face to face with someone you'd never thought you'd meet.

DC comic book character and superhero: Nightwing.

[thekristen999]

Fuck it Friday. Tagged by @spotsandsocks​ and @ajunerose​. Thank you!

I was out of town then got swamped at work. I don’t have anything new to share. But I had a DM over the weekend asking me what I thought was my most underrated fic in the fandom.

I’d say it’s Hand Covers Bruise   

I’ve always wanted to write meta regarding Eddie’s complicated relationship with fighting and self defense. There has to be some interesting backstory there. No one just ‘becomes good’ at street fighting. This story became some deep Eddie character exploration. 

Excerpt:

Sweat dotted his brow, the muscles in his shoulders burning, his fists smacking leather. He paid attention to his footwork, moving and adjusting, keeping his balance, ensuring his punches were powerful. That his arms didn’t overtire.

Eddie got lost in it. The bag. The punches. The focus of it all.

And then he stopped, chest heaving, sweat pouring down his face, his body thrumming with endorphins.

“Do you remember the first time we actually talked?”

Eddie whirled around at Buck’s voice. He stared at him, his brow furrowed. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough.” Buck handed him a water bottle. “If I recall, our first conversation started here.”

Eddie took a long swig of water, waiting for his pulse to slow down. “And if I recall, you were being a bit territorial.”

“I was.” Buck leaned against the metal bracket holding up the bag. “Then again you were kind of distracting.”

Eddie took another gulp.

Buck filled out a pair of gym shorts, displaying muscled calves and thighs. He had on a white tank top and carried a pair of his own gloves. His eyes almost twinkled. “You know. I don’t think we’ve ever sparred before.”

Adrenaline had a specific odor, filled with cortisol and pheromones.

Eddie started removing his gloves. Buck reached over, touching his hand. “Hey, come on. It’ll be fun.”

“Sorry, I don’t think so.”

A flash of disappointment spread across Buck’s face. “Why not?”

Buck loved competition, but it had its place. Eddie shook his head. “I’d prefer not to.”

“Prefer not to? Or prefer not with me?” Buck crossed his arms. “I’ve been boxing for years. I might not have trained as hard as you. Or done MMA.”

“That’s not it.”

“Sparring can be friendly.”

“I know.” Eddie tugged off his gloves, a knot forming inside his gut. “And I know we’d both be good in the ring. But I don’t want to. Not with you...or anyone.”

This time Buck’s eyes widened with guilt. “Oh.”

Eddie stared at the heavy bag, at the red leather. He still used it at the firehouse, but he hadn't entered a ring in almost two years.  Not since Eddie had been the walking wounded, grief stricken and numb to the world, so numb that he used something healthy and turned it into a cage.

“Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head. “I’m sorry, Buck. I hope you’re okay with my decision?”

“Of course.” Buck stepped closer, the zeal from earlier replaced by worry. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Eddie laughed because they both knew the answer to that. “Not right now. But maybe when everything stops buzzing around in my head.”

@putijeansdiaz-ronordmann​ made a beautiful cover for it.

Tagging @mellaithwen​ @megsvstheworld​ @renecdote​ @shortsighted-owl​ @thebestbooksaround​ @andavs​ @homerforsure​ @fleurdebeton​ @alyxmastershipper​@loveyourownsmiilee​ and anyone else who wants to play.

[misairus]

[amariss-613]

재등장, bts | scene 06: le' proposal

{resurfaced, bts}

summary: the biggest group in the world has their scandal resurface as the former female member the world thought was done become the best new artist of the year at the grammys.

face claim: yeri of red velvet

original is on archive of our own: amariss_0613, and wattpad: amariss_amaryllis, just decided to publish it on here~

this story mentions non-consensual things and includes some mentions of drugs, depression, and sasaengs.

. . .

scene 06: le' proposal

chapter summary: "u-umm, did you just say s-six other band members?"

bold w/ italic- english

normal- korean

playing: dive with you | seori feat. eaj

dive with you feat. eaj | 2021

|y/n pov|

"y/n! we have to get going in 10 minutes!" one of my personal staff yelled from my room as i was inside the bathroom. I had been inside the bathroom for almost an hour, spending 10 minutes trying to cover up the infinity tattoo.

"ah, come on. why is today the only day where this expensive-as-hell concealer isn't covering shit?!" i yelled, punching the blender onto my wrist, hoping that the more i tried blending it, it would start to cover the tattoo up.

"well... good thing i'm wearing a hoodie cause that's the best it's gonna get." i sighed, pulling down the sleeves to my green hoodie and slowly making my way out of the bathroom.

the first thing that caught my attention was soo-ah hauling kwan towards me. "aish, finally! i was about to get kwan to break down the door." she grumbled, noticing me out of the room. kwan just stared at me with the 'i would never" look. "kwan-shi would never, he understands that he would be paying for half of the property damage and you know you'd be paying the other half." i stated, walking up to my bed and gathering my stuff. "i was just joking y/n..." soo-ah sung, also grabbing all of the bags we needed. kwan stood at the door waiting for us. when the company first hired me a personal bodyguard, i thought it would be some man in his early to mid-thirties. i was definitely not expecting a 21-year-old dude who looked like he could beat present jungkook or namjoon's asses.

"alright, let's get going. were gonna end up being late." kwan said, making his way out the door of my hotel room, leaving me and soo-ah to run and catch up to him.

|no ones pov|

"ah! it's so nice to have you here, y/n. your dressing room is right this way." an american staff greeted, taking y/n, her stylist, and bodyguard to her dressing room/waiting room. "thank you so much, have a nice day!" y/n thanked, walking into the room along with her mini crew.

for y/n, this had felt like old times. here in america, there wasn't really any music/award shows like music back, inkigayo, mcountdown, or mama, mma, and the gda in korea where you could promote your music. being invited and nominated for a music/award show after four years felt...

like it was something that had been missed.

she didn't know what this feeling was, but it was definitely something that she hadn't felt for years till now.

"now, let's start setting up everything!" soo-ah clapped, rushing to get out all the makeup, hair products, and y/n's outfits prepared for the big day ahead of them.

"i'm just gonna be sitting outside the room, let me know if you need anything," kwan announced, leaving the room so as to not bother soo-ah doing her job with y/n.

"alright, thanks kwan-shi. you're always welcome to pop in whenever though, you're a close friend." y/n said, looking towards kwan.

"got it."

. . . 

a knocking sound filled the room, halting y/n and soo-ah's conversation about her look for later that day.

"come in!"

one of the on-stage coordinators walked into the room with kwan following shortly behind, "y/n, we were able to finish your request for a collab stage." the man said, giving y/n back the printed request form that her company had sent the week before.

"oh thank you, were they ok with it?" y/n asked, flipping through the papers.

"yes, they were 100% on board with the idea the second I mentioned it, though the leader had to discuss it with his six other band members."

"u-umm, did you just say s-six other band members?"

|15 minutes earlier|

"i swear, i'm about to rip this card in half!" jungkook yelled, waving the card in his hand around. "hajima! we don't have any replacements if you rip that one." yoongi sighed, resting on the floor next to taehyung who was also practicing his card trick that was added to the butter choreo last minute. "y-know how some actors have stunt doubles, why can't we do that?" taehyung suggested, flopping to the ground in despair. "damn, your right. we should have thought about that before THE DAY OF THE GRAMMYS!" jungkook commented, empathizing the last few words.

"alright-alright, chop-chop kids! let's re-rehearse the opening of butter again!" hoseok clapped, walking towards the boys sitting on the ground of the stage. taehyung was the first to stand, "hyung, i think we should make my part look natural. maybe we could ask someone to pretend to have a conversation with me before i flick the card to jungkook?"

"huh, we could ask and see-"

"ah, it's nice to finally properly meet you, rm! i hope i'm not intruding, but i would like to make a proposal to you and your bandmembers for an artist who is performing tonight." a powerful voice interrupted hoseok's and taehyung's discussion, turning their attention to the man who was shaking namjoon's hand.

"no your not. it's nice to finally meet you too sir, i would love to hear about this proposal on behalf of my members." rm confidently responded, not noticing the way the rest of his member's faces were filled with respect.

as rm was discussing the proposal with one of the organizers of the grammys, the rest of the members huddled together.

"so, who do you think the artists is?" seokjin whispered, leaning towards the members. "if it's some artist who is controversial or said shit about us, we're out." yoongi stated, pointing to the doors of the arena. "oh my god! what if it's lady gaga?" taehyung expressed, slightly bouncing next to hoseok while shaking the poor male. "i would need to ask her about her skincare routine!" hoseok exclaimed, mirroring taehyung who was now also getting shaken. "could it be justin bieber?" jungkook mumbled, doe-eyes staring at his hyungs. "it couldn't be gukk. were in the same company, we would've been told by hitman-bang before leaving korea." jimin advised, noticing how namjoon started to look uncomfortable as he and the organizer finished their conversation. "why does namjoon look like he's about to shit his pants?" jin whispered to yoongi, slightly laughing at the face that namjoon was making while walking towards his members. "uhh, i bet 50 bucks that a huge artist wants to collab with us." taehyung asked jimin as he stared at namjoon. "bet."

|with namjoon|

namjoon was literally about to have a heart attack.

"last week we got a request from the artist, y/n's, company. they were asking for an artist to potentially collab with y/n for the opening of her performance. you and the rest of bts have the exact number of people requested if there weren't any artists available, so i was wondering on the behalf of y/n, are you interested?"

"u-uhh, i might need to discuss this with m-my members. um, does she care if it's us?" namjoon studdered, he didn't know how to react. what was he gonna say to the rest of the members, "oh hey, y/n wants to collab with us after leaving us 4 years ago, are you all okay with it?".

"oh no, she doesn't care who it is, she is willing to work with anyone."

"hold on a second, i'll go and discuss this with the rest."

when namjoon was walking to the members, he noticed that they were all huddled in a group and held a nervous expression, could they tell that he was about to shit his pants or that the proposal was unexpected?

"so, what happened?" yoongi ordered, wondering what artist they were talking about. "was it someone big?" taehyung exclaimed, grabbing namjoon's hands. "promise that you all won't freak out." he announced, terrified of their reaction. "that's probably not gonna happen joonie, you know it." hoseok sighed, eager to know what happened.

"it's y/n."

all of the members stopped what they were doing. taehyung let go of namjoon's hands, taking a step back.

"what do you mean?" seokjin snapped. why would he be bringing up y/n after what happened yesterday with taehyung's breakdown? "y/n's company asked for an artist to help out with the opening of her stage." namjoon replied, with the same force. "either that dude lives under a rock or he's trying to start something, doesn't he know what happened between us?" yoongi warned, glaring at the man. "we can't do it. not after what happened yesterday." jimin complained, wrapping his arm around taehyung waist. "yeah, i don't think we're in the best headspace to see or even interact with y/n." jungkook agreed, standing on the other side of taehyung.

"let's do it."

. . .

oooh, so y/n is starting to feel things again, i hope she can enjoy this experience! also, that organizer is totally living under a rock, how doesn't he know about their past? anyway, who do you think stepped up to say that they want to do the stage with y/n? i wonder if bts are hiding how they really feel about this proposal?

i hope you enjoyed this chapter, now that I'm caught up to the present chapter updates might actually be monthly or weekly!

[clonecaptains]

Get a Room

a santiago ‘pope’ garcia x reader fic

word count: 4.7k

rating: m - for smut, and semi-public sex (there’s others in the room - asleep)

summary: based on this ask from @woakiees​ - you’re on a trip with Santi, Frankie, Benny and Will - and you stop for the night at a motel. There’s only one room left, and you share a bed with Santi. 

a/n: i spent yesterday afternoon crying cuz of my writers block and then THIS HAPPENED????? feedback is much appreciated~!

tagging: @pascalispedro​, @tintinwrites​, @damndamer0n​, @huliabitch​, @mandoplease​, @darksideofclarke​, @yougottakeeponkeepinon​, @mylifeliterally​, @agentpike​, @pascalplease​

Get a Room

You’re not sure how you got into this position. It all happened so fast. One minute you’re at one of Benny’s fights with the boys and now Santi has you pinned to the mattress. His hand clapped over your mouth, his length ramming into your heat – all while the other boys sleep in the same shitty motel room.

How did this happen?

Maybe it was the sharp smell of Santi’s cologne in your nose for 6 hours in Frankie’s truck.

Maybe it was the way Santi’s denim covered knee grazed against yours all evening during the fight.

Maybe it was the way his hand was on your lower back guiding you out through the crowd when someone spilled their beer on you.

Or maybe, maybe it’s the way you’ve been in love with Santi for years and every time he’s near you, your heart threatens to burst right out of your chest.

When your friend Will sends you a text that morning about Benny’s fight, you almost don’t want to go. You’re not in any mood to see Benny get the shit beaten out of him again. But then that second text comes in, that Pope is going to come. Your heart leaps in your throat and you answer back immediately. Will is too kind to pester you about it, but he knows about your crush. He’s kept it secret.

You have about 15 minutes to calm yourself before the boys come to pick you up. You watch like a hawk out your window and feel your stomach lurch when you see Frankie’s truck pull into the driveway. You step outside in a hurry, your hand trembling a little as you lock your front door.

This fight is 6 hours away. That’s at least 12 hours with Pope in a confined space guaranteed. Not counting the time spent at the fight.

When you reach the truck, the front passenger door opens, and Santi pops out with a smile on his face.

“Hey honey,” he grins and greets you with a kiss to your cheek. He opens the back-seat door and climbs inside, letting you sit up front. You fight the heat crawling up your neck and hope no one notices. Frankie nods a hello, and he backs the truck out of the driveway. He sees your blush, but he doesn’t say a word. His sunglasses hide the glint in his eyes.

Upon Benny’s request his playlist plays over the truck stereo system. It’s to help get him in the zone. It’s a little too hard rock for your tastes, but the occasional classic rock song comes on that you hum a long to or at least recognize. Still, it’s not exactly the atmosphere you were hoping for.

It doesn’t give you much time to talk to Santi.

There is conversation, it’s light chit chat. Benny is in the backseat, getting in the zone so he refrains from the conversations. It’s left to the four of you, but really you just do a lot of listening.

Santi’s cologne is so sharp in your nose. The drive is long and after a while it’s all you can focus on. It’s like a drug, a toxin in the air. Your lungs felt tight and your heart beats just a little bit faster. You start to think about what it must be like to smell it on his skin, with your nose pressed to his neck.

You know he’s warm, his touch is warm. You’ve been friends with him for years. Run into him at weekend barbecues and even the grocery store from time to time. He’s come to your birthday party the last three years in a row. He’s on your Christmas card list. His number is in your phone, but you never call him.

But you’re familiar enough that he can greet you with an innocent kiss to your cheek. It only makes you ache more.

Feeling hot, you angle the AC vent on your right to blow on you. Heat is beginning to build up on your collarbone. You’re already wearing shorts and a t-shirt but it’s too much, the heat of Santi behind you is burning through the seat.

He grabs the back of your seat once so he can shift around, the long drive cramping his legs. When you feel the seat shift behind you, your body tenses a little. His touch so close.

It’s stifling even when you have the air blasting on your face.

It gets worse when he leans forward, his voice in your ear behind you.

“Hey honey, can you angle the air back here? It’s a little warm.”

You lean forward and angle it, he thanks you with a smile and for some reason you panic. As if he knows something.

What could he possibly know? Could he deduce that it’s him that’s got you all sweaty, so you angled the air towards you?

It only adds to your suspicion when Frankie turns to look at you for a beat.

Shit.

They know something you don’t.

Maybe you’re just paranoid.

What could be so bad though? If Santi found out about your crush? It’s not like he would make fun of you. The only person in that truck that would make fun would be Benny, but he’s too in the zone right now to notice or care.

Santi has been nothing but sweet to you ever since you’ve known him. And maybe you want a little more than sweet. Maybe you want him to dig his fingers in your hips and take you apart with his cock and put you back together again with his gentle touch.

Maybe if he finds out then it could end well for you? If he turns you down though, you don’t know if you could ever face him again. That’s why you have to keep it a secret.

The heat’s only gotten worse now that it’s not blowing directly on you. How can you clench your thighs together without Frankie seeing? How can you breathe when Santi’s cologne is still so strong even after a few hours?

Your relief comes when the MMA arena is a few minutes away. Your long drive finally ending.

You’re not interested in this fight in the least, but if you can find a way to sit by Santi then it’ll make it worth your while.

It’s a tournament, and you’ll have to watch several matches throughout the day.

When you walk in, Santi and Frankie are with you. Will and Benny separate to go to the locker room. Before he parts with you, Will hands Santi your ticket. Frankie is buying a beer, and Santi’s hand touches your shoulder, directing you through the rowdy crowd to the ticket booth.

Finally, you have your moment alone with Santi. You’re not about to tell him you’re in love with him HERE, but you like being near him.

You make friendly chit chat when you find your seats.

“End or middle?” Santi asks when you reach your spot.

“Middle,” you tell him, and he steps in first. You follow behind, and that leaves Frankie to sit on the very end.

Frankie joins you in a few moments, beer in hand. He takes a seat with a sigh, then takes a sip of his beer.

“Think Benny’ll win this thing?” Frankie asks.

“He could, if he moves his feet,” Santi observes.

You just shrug, you’re not here for Benny.

Santi’s denim clad knee brushing against your skin reminds you why you’re here. His presence is so loud. In a room full of screaming spectators, Santi is the loudest in your mind. In a room full of the stink of sweat, smell of popcorn and beer, and the rubber of a gym floor – that cologne is what’s filling your nose.

“You smell nice ,” you blurt out suddenly in the middle of a match. Frankie and Santi’s eyes both fixed on the fight both turn to look at you.

“Thank you,” Santi smiles.

“Who said she was talking to you?” Frankie scoffs.

“Because man, all you put on this morning was deodorant,” Santi snickers and you laugh too.

“Thank you,” Santi says again, “I put on a little extra because I don’t wanna smell Benny’s sweat all the way home tonight.”

That’s only a reminder that this day will end and who knows when you’ll see Santi again for this amount of time. You have him right here and you can’t think of a single word to say.

You watch the fights, but you’re not invested. It’s then you get a bright idea.

“Santi?”

“What’s up, honey?” he turns to face you. The crowd “OOO’s” at something that just happened on the floor, but Santi doesn’t turn his head from you.

“Can you explain some of the rules? I’m trying to follow.”

“Of course!” he leans towards you a little, his shoulder touching yours. He’s closer so you can hear him over the roar of the crowd.

He tells you what to watch for and different rules. He gives you technical terms but explains them. He never once treats you like you’re stupid, and when he forgets a rule, he asks Frankie. Frankie always knows and he never tears his eyes away from the fight, but he answers out of the side of his mouth.

That keeps the conversation going. By the end of the day you’re actually a little invested.

“I’m going to get some water; you want anything honey?” Santi starts to stand up.

“I’m good,” Frankie butts in.

“I’ll take a coke,” you tell Santi and he nods. You fish for your wallet, but he shakes his head ‘no.’

“I got it,” and he squeezes past you and Frankie.

The moment Santi is out of earshot, Frankie leans down to you.

“Why don’t you say something?”

You know what he means. His words hit right in your chest. And you feel dizzy.

“What would I say?”

Frankie shrugs, but you see a soft smile on his face. You sit in silence then. Your heart pounding in your chest. It’s as if you’re standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether or not to jump.

“How long have you known?” you ask, breaking the silence. You feel horrified. He’ll be back in any moment.

“I had a guess, but today was it was confirmed.”  

“Does he know?” You feel sick.

That’s right about the time Santi shows back up with your coke and his bottled water. He sits down with a sigh and hands you your drink. You can’t help but notice the brush of his fingers against your own.

Frankie gives you a look and you elbow him in the ribs.

Santi almost chokes on his water with a laugh, “What was that for? I mean I always wanna elbow Fish.”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“Mhmm,” Santi shakes his head with a laugh.

You’re glad you asked Santi for that coke, you need the caffeine because the fights are running later than expected. And the crowd is extra rowdy as it nears the end.

There’s a few left to go, and Benny is still in it.

It’s a crucial moment in the match, and the crowd jumps to their feet. When they do, the person behind you spills their beer all over your back. Your now soaked t-shirt clings to your skin and you gasp. The smell of it is all over you, even soaked into the back of your denim shorts.

You look horrified, and Santi is quick to get you out of there when he sees the look in your eyes.

You’re dripping with it, it’s even in your hair. But sweet Santi, he cautiously puts his hand on your lower back, not caring if his hand gets wet. You can feel the heat of his fingers through your shirt.

“Here,” Santi leads you to a merchandise booth. He fishes out his wallet and starts to buy you an MMA shirt.

“Santi, no. They’re like $45!”

“Honey, you can’t wear a beer-soaked shirt all night.”

He hands the vendor the cash and he hands Santi the shirt which he then hands to you.

“The bathrooms are this way,” he motions for you.

“Thank you,” you tell him and bravely lean up to kiss his stubbly cheek. You grasp the shirt in your hand, as if it’s a precious gift. It is though, it’s a token of care. Even if it’s only a kind gesture as a friend, you cherish it.

You can hear the noises from the match in the distance, the audience growing loud. It must be over.

You peel your soaked shirt from your skin and do your best to dry off your back before putting on the new shirt. It still sticks to you, and you grimace at the sensation.

Santi is waiting patiently for you outside; you spot him among the crowd pouring out of the arena. The fight is definitely over.

Frankie is close behind, your purse in his hands.

“I almost forgot that!” you gasp taking it from him. You thank him and his eyes are kind.

“Benny won!” Santi tells you. “He did what I told him to!”

“I don’t believe it!” you laugh. You’re glad he won; he’ll be in a better mood on the way home.

“Finally,” Frankie chuckles. “We’re gonna stay at a motel tonight though, I’m not driving six hours this late.” He could do it and he has before. But he’s not interested in doing it tonight.

It seems everyone else had this idea because motels in the area all have no vacancy.

It’s 1am when you see the motel with the flashing vacancy sign. Frankie parks and you all pile out of the truck.

“Only one room?” Frankie wipes his hand over his face.

“We’ll take it,” Will interjects. “It’ll be fine.” He shoots you a look and you want to shrink back into the ugly couch in the motel lobby office.

Santi swipes the room key while Will pays the fee.

The motel room is small, as expected. There are two queen beds, a table, and a small bathroom.

Benny calls dibs on first shower, and Frankie collapses on one of the beds. He falls asleep the instant his body hits the mattress. His baseball cap falls off his head onto the floor from the roughness of his fall.

Santi sits down on the other bed and starts to take off his shoes. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and tosses it and his keys and wallet to the small bedside table next to the old motel phone.

Will sits down at the table, doing the same thing Santi is doing.

And you, you stand awkwardly in the room, unsure of what to do.

“Where am I going to sleep?” you ask, the elephant in the room.

“Wherever you want, honey,” Santi looks up with a soft smile. Damn him and that pet name. it gets you every time.

“I’ll go see if they have a cot,” Will volunteers and steps out.

“Thank you again for the shirt,” you tell Santi, tugging on it a little, it’s still sticking to your back.

He notices, and you see a small frown on his face. He makes a move you don’t expect, and he pulls off his dark blue t-shirt, leaving him shirtless. You can’t help the surprise that comes across your face. His tan chest glows in the dim motel light. There’s a chain around his neck and it glints in the light too. Your mouth waters and you have a need to touch him.

“Here,” he stands and hands you his shirt. “It’s better than a beer stained one for you to sleep in.”

“Thank you,” is all you can manage to say, and you know Santi can see the obvious flustered look on your face. His intention wasn’t to make you uncomfortable, and you know that.

“Whoa!” Benny shouts when he steps out of the bathroom. He’s the only one with a change of clothes, his gym bag draped over his shoulder. “What’s going on here?” he laughs seeing a shirtless Santi.

“Her shirt has beer on it,” Santi replies and he sits back down on the bed. Frankie wakes with a grunt and tells Benny to fuck off for being so loud.

You duck into the bathroom, taking your opportunity to get a moment to breathe from seeing a shirtless Santi.  

“Why do you call her that?” you can hear Benny muffled through the bathroom door.

“What?” Santi asks.

“You call her ‘honey’ all the fuckin’ time.”

You don’t hear Santi’s reply and it makes your head spin. What did he say??

You clutch onto his shirt in your hands and you bring it to your nose. The smell of his cologne is so strong in the soft fabric. You breathe deeply, the thrill running down to your toes.

You put it on the counter and turn on the shower. You drape your beer-soaked clothes over the edge of the tub.

Stepping inside, you feel another thrill at being so naked and Santi is right outside the door. If it was only him in the room, you wonder if you might be bold and drop your towel in front of him.

But then you scoff at yourself, you could barely handle hearing him speak in the car ride over.

The motel shower is shitty, like everything else in the room. But at least the water is hot. You use every ounce of the little shampoo and conditioner and body wash to get the smell of beer out of your hair and skin.

While you wash your hair, your mind wanders to Santi again. There’s an ache between your thighs that will never be satisfied. Not unless you get up the courage to tell him how you feel, see where that gets you.

You have a mind to get yourself off real quick, but the motel water runs cold. This place is terrible.

You step out to dry off when you run into your next problem. You reach for Santi’s shirt to put it on, and stop – how bold are you? Do you dare not wear a bra under his shirt? There’s no way you’ll sleep comfortably with your underwire digging into your skin.

You’re already going to be bare legged, your shorts are covered in beer and drying.

Your towel in hand, you ultimately decide no bra. You’ll just make a dash for whichever bed you’re sleeping in and hope no one sees.

When you open the bathroom door, the lights in the room are off. There’s at least two men snoring. As your eyes adjust you see Benny is on the roll out cot.

“Over here,” you hear Santi whisper. You find your way over to that bed and without thinking, you climb right in.

Panic floods your veins. You’re in the same bed as Santiago Fucking Garcia. You’re wearing his shirt, no bra, and no pants. If you move just a small fraction, your hips will collide with his.

You face away from him and your nerves has you clutching that scratchy motel towel to your chest.

“Hey,” he whispers, he’s so close. “It’s ok.” You visibly relax at his words, and he seems to be content with that. The bed shifts as he gets comfortable, and you lay there, eyes wide open.

You’re closest to the bedside table and you watch the glaring red digital clock for at least 30 minutes. Everyone is asleep but you can’t. Not when the man of your dreams is next to you and all you want to do is touch him. Tell him you love him.

Maybe he wouldn’t be opposed to you cuddling into him.

You roll over, slowly, and you come face to face with him. His eyes are very much open, and his smile is soft. It’s so dark in the room, but you can see enough.

“Can’t sleep?” he whispers.

You shake your head ‘no.’

“C’mere,” he whispers and puts his hand on your hip. He pulls you close, and you let him. You bury your nose into his chest and get a good strong whiff of that cologne. “I lied,” you hear him whisper.

“About what?” you whisper back.

“I said I wore this cologne to cover up Benny’s sweat. I wore it for you.”

“I lied too. I didn’t care about the matches; I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

“So, what are we going to do about that huh?”

It takes a moment for your brain to come back online when he starts kissing you. The grit of his stubble scratches your chin. His soft lips brush against yours and his tongue finds its way into your mouth. Your body is putty in his hands, and you let him mold you how he wants.

Before you know it, you’re on your back. A wandering hand dips into your arousal-soaked panties and he toys with your clit. You whine once, and he claps his other hand over your mouth. It’s all you can do not to groan loudly. All of your senses are on fire.

You taste the salt of his skin on his palm over your lips. You hear your own heartbeat pounding at the thrill of it all. The man of your dreams is teasing your sex, all while you’re in a room full of sleeping friends. Your eyes are closed tight, just enjoying the feeling – you crack them open every once in a while, just to make sure what’s happening is real. You can barely make out Santi in the dark. His cologne and musk are strong in your nose. And you feel, oh do you feel. You feel it all. The pressure of his hand on your mouth keeping you quiet. His minty breath fanning against your face. His hard body on top of yours. The band of his watch digging into your skin. His fingers about to bring you to orgasm. His hardening length digging into your thigh.

His finger moves faster and faster, and you’re almost to the edge when one of the boy’s snores stop. Santi freezes, his finger pressed to your clit, you know he can feel your pulse there. But when whoever it was starts snoring again, Santi resumes at his rapid pace.

You shut your eyes and try your best not to whine when you come. You wish you were alone with him; you want him to hear how he makes you feel.

He pries his hand away from your mouth, so he can replace with his lips. You squeak in his mouth when you feel his hands pull your panties down.

“Do you want this?” he whispers on your lips.

You nod frantically YES. You could easily be caught, but you’d rather die then tell him no.

In a fraction of a second, his boxers are off and he’s slotting himself between your legs.

He claps his hand over your mouth again when you whine, the feeling of his tip against your entrance is too much. The blunt snag of him slowing pushing inside is more than you can take, and you arch your body up to meet his. He bites his own lip when he’s fully settled inside your welcome heat.

You can feel his heart beating against your chest, or is that yours?

Santi pulls out, and thrusts back in – it’s all you can do not to shout. The bed creaks, and you feel heat in your face. The reality of this is finally catching up with you.

Santi’s hips snap, and his thrusts are precise and unrelenting. The bed groans with his movement, and you wish you could groan. Instead you try and breathe through your nose and tears pour out of your eyes at how good he feels.

Your hands are everywhere, in his hair, on his back. You’re sure you’ve left marks on his skin from your nails scratching as he fills you up to the brim.

You can’t be bothered by the unforgiving squeak of the motel bed now. Not when you’re so close. His hand is in between your bodies toying with your clit again and that’s when you lose it. You pulse around him, hard. Your lungs are on fire and your heart is pounding so harshly against your ribcage.

It’s then his hand falls from your mouth. His face buries in the crook of your neck, his groans muffled as he spills inside of you.

He’s about to pull out when there’s a loud thump. Frankie throws a pillow at Santi, hitting him on the shoulder.

“Fuck’s sake, Pope,” Frankie mumbles.

“SSHH Fish!” Benny grunts.

You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle your giggles and Santi snickers quietly. You’re feeling too good to be embarrassed.

“It’s gonna be an awkward six hours tomorrow,” Santi whispers with a laugh when he pulls away. He grabs the towel you’d had with you to clean up the slick between your thighs.

The next thing you remember is waking up hearing a loud whistle from Benny. You open your eyes to see Benny standing at the foot of the bed, your panties dangling from the tip of his finger. Your legs are intertwined with Santi’s, and you look around to see Frankie and Will looking at you with smirks. Thankfully, the sheets are covering your legs, and you still have on Santi’s shirt from last night.

“Pay up,” Will holds out his hand, and Frankie and Benny both sigh.

“Excuse me?” you laugh, very aware of Santi’s arms squeezing tightly around you. He’s promptly ignoring the boys and kissing your neck.

“They had a bet going,” he murmurs.

“You knew?” somehow this is more horrifying than being caught with your pants down, literally.

“Nah,” he shrugs, he nods his head toward Will pocketing the money. “If I knew then I’d be in on it.” He laughs and you shove his chest.

“Benny,” you stick out you hand, “if you would be so kind.”

He laughs and tosses you your underwear. You put them on under the covers, then head towards the bathroom. No sense in hiding now.

Santi is quick on your heels as he pulls on his boxers. His hand comes to stop the door from closing behind you, and he steps inside the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

You hear groans from the boys outside.

“No time for round two Pope, let’s go!” Benny bangs on the door with a laugh.

Santi only smiles and leans in for a kiss, which you gratefully accept.

“I need my shirt back,” he grins tugging on the hem of it. You let him peel it off of you, and his hands go right for your breasts. In the heat of the moment last night he didn’t get to explore this part of you. He didn’t get to do much exploring at all.

His big hands squeeze and bounce your breasts and his thumbs toy with your nipples a little.

“Tonight, honey,” he leans in to kiss your temple, “I wanna take you out for a real date yeah?”

You nod and giggle again when you hear Frankie shout in Spanish at Pope to get ready.

He puts on his shirt and he leaves you to finish getting dressed. Your shirt from last night is still damp. The new shirt you got is what you’ll wear. Your shorts are dry enough but it’s all you’ve got.

“I am never taking a trip with you two again,” Frankie smacks Pope on the back and he winces.

“Oh shit!” Benny laughs. “She scratched you, up didn’t she?!”

Santi only grins as he pulls on his jeans. He offers you his hand when you come out of the bathroom. He pulls you in for another kiss and you can’t help but smile.

Will gets the room key, and Frankie does a sweep to make sure no one forgot anything.

“You two,” Frankie motions at you and Santi as you walk out of the motel, “are sitting in the backseat. And if I hear one peep so help me…”

“You’ll what?” Santi laughs, “throw another pillow at me?”

Frankie mumbles something in Spanish and shoves Santi towards the truck. Santi opens the doors and lets you climb in first. He chases behind you, his hands tickling your sides as you sit down in the back.

You do kiss him a little on the way home, but it doesn’t take long before you fall asleep on Santi’s shoulder.

You didn’t get much sleep last night.

And you doubt you will tonight either.  

[thatsgay-writes]

Leah x reader who is know to be the calm and nice one until she snaps when she found out Rachel held Leah underwater

You were the yang to Leah’s yin. The eye of Leah’s own personal hurricane. Literally one of the only reason Leah had managed to stay some what sane after everything that happened with Jeff. Overall, you were her saving grace. You fell, literally fell, into her life on a cloudy but bright Sunday afternoon.

---

You had just been jogging through the park, training for a marathon that your father made you run. Your dad was an over the top sports fanatic and forced you to do sports or things you didn’t want to do. If you didn’t comply, you got beat. One thing he never taught you was wrestling or MMA fighting because he didn’t need you to learn how to defend yourself. So you got it taught to you and joined an underground fighting ring to make money since your dad wouldn’t let you get a job. Fighting was a way to let out all the pain and anger in your life in a productive way, it also let you get out all the pent up negativity in your body. Outside of the fighting cage you were a bubbly person, you had decided from a early age that the world had enough negativity in it and that you wouldn’t participate in it.

Anyways, you had been jogging through the park on Sunday finally hitting your five mile mark and were ready to turn around when you ran smack into a person. You wrapped your arm around the girl, you could tell it was a girl after practically body slamming her, and turned your body so you would hit the ground instead of her. “Oof...” You let out as the gravel digs into your back. “Are you okay?” You ask as you look up at the girl laying on top of you. The brunette above you shook her head a little before looking at you. Her eyes widened comically as she took you in. A blush shone through as Leah realized she was laying on top of a beautiful girl... Laying on top? Laying on top! Leah realized she was still on top of you and immediately got up. “I am so sorry!” Leah says as she puts out a hand to help you to your feet. “Oh shit.” Leah says as she realizes her ice cream cone had been crushed between the two of you. Not even caring about her own ice cream covered shirt, she uses the napkins that had survived the fall to wipe your stomach clear of ice cream. You look at her in shock as this random girl you just ran into was now wiping your bare stomach clear of ice cream. Leah froze after a few minutes as she realized what she was doing. “I--- Um...”

---

You ended up getting a beating that night for taking too long on your run but you didn’t care. You had gotten the number of one of the most pretty girls you had ever met. After the first meet, you and Leah started seeing each other a lot more. You didn’t know how you missed that Leah went to your school but you definitely surprised her one day when you came up to her in the hallway, abandoning your jock friends and invited her to spend lunch with you. The rest was history.

---

You had only been on the island for three days before you got into a fight. It had started as a normal morning. You woke up next to Leah and gave her a kiss on the head before getting up. You sat down next to Fatin near the fire as Dot kept it going. “You two are cute.” Fatin said with a smirk. You feel your face heat up and gave a small shrug with a smile. “Well I love her so...” Fatin gave you a nudge causing you to laugh. Your brightness was one of the only things that kept some of the girls sane. Sure, Martha was bright as well and Shelby tried to stay upbeat, but something about you had seemed so pure and good and it put all the other girls at ease... Except for Rachel. She seemed to have a problem with you for no reason. Rachel just didn’t believe in your enthusiasm about staying positive. She also didn’t like Leah because of what happened with the phone and how suspicious she seemed of everything.

There had been a few moments where Rachel had angered you and made you mad but you managed to calm yourself down, like with what happened on the mountain. But you had remained calm after Leah reassured you multiple times that she was okay. Leah still didn’t know about your underground fighting but she would soon. “Rachel is fucking psychotic.” Leah mumbles to you as every sat in their own little groups doing whatever. Fatin and Dot sat with the two of you. “What happened?” Fatin asked, over hearing Leah. “She almost fucking drowned me for that black box.” Leah continues in disgust. “I tried to come back go back up for air after we had gone up and down twenty times and she grabbed my ankle and pulled me back down.” “She what.” You state deadly calm as Rachel finally hit the last straw of your patience.

All three girls looked at you in shock, they had never seen you so serious or quiet as you were at that moment. Leah was surprised to see anger flash through your eyes before you stood up. “Oh shit.” Fatin mumbled as she they watched you walk towards Rachel. The three girls you were just with stood up, concerned about what was going to happen. You walked by Martha, Shelby, and Toni as well who all watched you in concern as they noticed the other girls had stood up. Now you had a whole audience as you walked up to Rachel and Nora and tapped Rachel on the back. “What?” Rachel ask annoyed at being interrupted by you. “Stand up.” You said trying to seem as calm as possible. “Why?” Rachel asked, really testing your patience. Don’t break her nose, don’t break her nose... You kept repeating over and over again in your head as you repeated yourself. “Stand up.” Rachel rolled her eyes and stood up right in your face, eye to eye. Nora had stood up as well but moved away some when she noticed the tension between you and Rachel.

Without warning, and to everyone’s shock, you reared your fist back and punch Rachel hard across the face causing her to fall. You shook your hand as you started to walk away from her. “What the fuck!” Rachel roars as she stands back up. “What the fuck was that!?” You stop walking and turn around to face Rachel, ignoring the shocked and frozen looks from the other girls. “Well you almost drowned Leah earlier today at the plane wreck, that wasn’t about to let that go unchecked.” You stated, voice still icily calm. “It’s not my fault she can’t hold her breath long or whatever. Maybe she should learn how to swim correctly or some shit.” Rachel fires back annoyed. “Oh yeah? Says the girl who lied about going to Stanford for diving.” You say in a mocking tone as Rachel’s eyes got wide. “Yeah, you and Nora talk kind of loud.” You say with a smirk that got bigger as Rachel attempted to bum rush you out of anger. You dodge a upper cut aimed at your face and move to the side as Rachel stumbles past you.

You let out a chuckle and grin from the adrenaline rush you were getting, you hadn’t fought someone in weeks. “This is going to be fun.” You state with a big smile, causing Rachel to get even angrier. You took off your shirt, not wanting it to get ruined, and Fatin let out a low wolf whistle getting a elbow to the stomach from Leah. Leah on the other, not gonna lie, was turned on. Her girlfriend fighting for her, shirtless? Leah was in paradise. Rachel bum rushed you again but this time instead of dodging, you caught her fist and gave her a solid punch in the stomach. The two of you fought for what seemed like seconds but what was really a few minutes as Rachel tried to get the upper hand on you. Finally, you had gotten Rachel pinned down again and was holding her arm in position that could dislocate it if you pulled to hard. “Tap out.” You grunted as Rachel tried to get out of your hold. She had blood dripping out of her nose and on to the sand and also sported a black eye. You had gotten her good but made sure not to hit place that would cause anything to break. Nora had wanted to help her sister but had backed up after Rachel sent her a deadly glare. “Tap out or I’ll dislocate your shoulder.” You state again, you knew how to put it back in so it didn’t scare you to do it. “5... 4... 3... 2...” You start counting down and slowly pull on Rachel’s arm.

“Alright alright! I give up!” Rachel screamed out as the pain got too much for her and you immediately got off of her. “Good, now don’t do some dumb shit like that again... To any of the girls, got it?” You ask as Rachel nods her head and holds onto her shoulder. You gave a nod and walked to pick up your shirt that had gotten sand on it during the fight. “Damn...” You stated as you went to the ocean to wash your shirt off and cool down. The ocean salt stung some scrapes you had gotten but was cool against your hot skin. It took a while but the girls all split away after the crazy event they just witnessed. Leah opting to give you some time before talking to you.

---

You had been in the ocean for a concerning amount of time. You honestly didn’t want to return to the girls in fear that their opinions about you might have changed. The other girls, void Rachel and Nora, were worried about you. “I think you should go talk to her.” Fatin says as she whispers to Leah. “I think she’s cooled down enough.” Fatin continues as she see’s Leah bite her lip in thought. Leah nods her head and gets up before heading towards you. “Tell y/n I want boxing lessons while your down there.” Toni throws out, being completely serious and ignores the glare she gets from Rachel.

You sat in a shallow part of the ocean, staring out into the endless sea. “Penny for your thoughts?” Leah asks as she sits beside you, as close as she can without touching you. You give Leah a quick glance before looking straight ahead. “Are the girls mad at me?” You ask, voice filled with nerves. “Just Rachel and Nora but that’s understandable.” Leah let’s out a laugh, “Toni does want you to teach her how to fight though.” You smile and turn to look at Leah before getting serious again. “Are you okay with what happened? I know I kind of went all Incredible Hulk and all but hearing what she did was just the last push...” Leah cupped your face with her hands. “I am okay with what happened... It definitely shocked me but, not gonna lie, it was kind of hot.” Leah says with a smirk and your face heats up immediately. “I, um... woah.” You say with a nervous laugh as Leah lets go of your face and leans her head against your shoulder instead. “Thank you though, for protecting me and defending me... Even before the whole place crash happened.” Leah said as she let herself fully relax against you for the first time since the plane crash. “Always.”

NEXT

[whatifxwereyou]

Firestorm Part 3: Cross Your Heart

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021 Liu Kang x Reader

If you would like to be tagged for Firestorm when I post, let me know.

A/N: Almost forgot today was post day. Really enjoyed writing this one. Liu is just aldkjfwljaflj gah. Thank you guys for reading. Love you. Have a good weekend!

The Oncoming Storm Previous Chapter Next Chapter Chapter Index

Laying around and doing nothing would have been torture. Even with the storm raging as it was that day, your mind was too hectic to sit and listen. Too much had happened. The truth was that you were too exhausted to do much else either. Chen had lingered for a few minutes but had ultimately returned to her duties without saying so much as a word about what had so angered her. Deciding to work within your limits, you walked down the hall and to a small, covered balcony near the stairwell. It wasn’t much, just a stone archway leading onto a dusty platform that overlooked the ravine but it would do.

You’d meditate and the change of scenery would be nice. Raiden had told you to wait until you were feeling more yourself, but you decided to get a head start. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to wait, it was just that you no longer had faith that it was going to get better. What if it just kept happening? What if you kept getting sicker and sicker until you became a shell of yourself?

You couldn’t wait for better. You had fought too hard to come this far and fail.

You weren’t allowed to anything else, after all.

Doctor’s orders.

So you closed your eyes and meditated.

Meditation just became fantasizing about Liu Kang guiding you through meditation which may have been the silliest, most benign fantasy you’d ever had. It still helped to ground you but unconsciously the act had become associated with him.

No. No Liu Kang.

Meditation.

Once you got over the mental distraction that was Liu Kang, you managed to ground yourself. Meditation had been something that had brought you peace for years. As a kid you had relied on it heavily after losing Kung Lao. Even as you managed to find calm, your heart was beating still far too hard and too fast but it was world’s better than it’d been before you sat down. You were sure that if it had been a real problem then Chen never would have left you alone. It probably wasn’t even as fast as you thought. Just faster than you were used to.

As you opened your eyes and watched the rain fall, catching in streams over the side of the balcony, you wondered if you could force a vision. It seemed such a simple idea but you had never once tried to have one on purpose. It was kind of funny now that you thought about it. You’d always been afflicted with them. It had never been a gift and it had never been helpful until today. You shook ‘never’ from your mind and decided that you had to try.

It was a bad idea. You knew that. Bad things happened when you had them but if you didn’t try then you wouldn’t get control over them either. And besides, you would rather those bad things happen only to you and not to those you cared about.

You would try.

There was a significant chance that it wouldn’t work anyway considering that you had no idea how to make it happen or how to start. Your arm stung and you rotated your shoulder again. It was such a pain in the ass now. But you had faith that Raiden would find a way to help you get rid of it or at least keep it from getting any worse.

Deep breaths.

The throbbing in your shoulder was a rhythm you could focus on.

Pattering of rain muted to a dull sound, like distant tapping on a kettle. The sound grew quieter and quieter until it was gone.

It was dark and the weightlessness was unsettling. The room in front of you was odd and you couldn’t place it. A warehouse maybe? It was too dark to tell. There was light filtering in from somewhere to your left but it was cold and blue. The moon, probably. Everything was rushing around you, like smeared paint. Then you heard voices but the words were fuzzy.

You could make out an accent at least. An Australian accent, the kind you’d always been fond of. Even without words you could tell the man was confident, probably overly so. It was bordering on arrogant. There were two figures and they were struggling and then darkness spread beneath them.

Blood pooled and spread, far more than should have been in any one human. The figure that had come out victorious was looking right at you but his face was obscured and twisted. But the rest of him you could see and blazing in the darkness, a brilliant light on his neck.

The dragon mark.

He was a cruel man. A cruel man who had murdered in cold blood and it had resulted in him bearing the mark that would destine him to fight. The scene faded like someone had poured a bucket of paint over it. Your head was pounding and pain radiated through the back of it and down your neck. You had to focus.

You were seeing things, you just weren’t sure what they were or what they meant. His voice had seemed familiar. Had you seen this man before? You hadn’t ever met anyone from Australia before. Perhaps it had been from an earlier vision.

“Y/N!”

The voice called from behind you but you turned and it was like whiplash. Your body fell through the darkness and the sound echoed away into nothingness like the rain. Before you was a crowd of people and they surrounded a cage with two men fighting within it. They were shouting encouragement to the fighters within. An MMA match, maybe? You weren’t sure.

The crowd parted like the angry sea for you. You watched the two men within beat on each other but they were moving too slowly. Their faces, much like the faces of the other men in the warehouse or wherever it had been, were obscured. Hauntingly so. Their features smudged away by unseen hands.

But then there was the light of the dragon mark on the chest of one of the men. He was bloodied up.

Chicago.

You didn’t know why but you knew you were in Chicago. There were no signs that you could make out on the walls and the voices you heard were garbled and strange. It was as though you were underwater and the sound was distorted. Even the movements of the crowd and of the fighters were slowed.

A shadow grew on the other side of the cage. A shadow that spread like roots from a tree. You could hear crackling, like low static from an old radio but it became louder and more like fire.

That was what it was.

Fire.

Flames burned amidst the shadow and rose brightly within it. Inside the flames was the silhouette of a man. You tried to step back from the intimidating presence but your feet were firmly stuck beneath you. Had you stumbled too far into your vision? Were you getting more than you’d bargained for?

The man looked at you, bathed in shadow, hooded. He stared at you with white eyes. Then he took a step closer and the crowd froze along with the fighters in the ring. Fear left you frozen too.

“Y/N!”

The voice was calling to you again but you couldn’t place it.

Gasping suddenly for breath you shot upright from where you’d been laying. Your heart was racing and you grasped your chest and tried to take slower breaths than the ones panic was forcing you to take. Where was the balcony? This wasn’t it. Where were you? Oh. Oh wait.

It was your room.

Relief.

Okay.

You hiccupped trying to take deep breaths and found Liu Kang seated on your bed next to you, elbows on his knees, watching you. He’d been calling to you. It was unmistakable now. You’d heard his voice through your vision.

“Oh, god, Liu…” You were exasperated at the sight of him. “Did I hurt you again?” This was becoming abuse if you had. You laid back down, feeling your head spinning and Liu helped you do so. Sweat was dripping over your face, trickling down your forehead. Your heart was beating out of your chest. You placed a hand over your heart and swore it was going to leap right through it. What a horrible feeling.

“No, Y/N. Not at all.” He looked surprised that you’d be worried about him right now. He placed his hand on your cheek and then checked your eyes as though you’d struck your head again. “I found you outside, unconscious. You wouldn’t respond to me. I was about to bring you to the infirmary. Were you…” He looked to be filled with both relief and worry. You couldn’t blame him.

“I was having a vision.”

“Are you okay?”

“I think so?” You weren’t sure but you didn’t feel like you’d hurt yourself. Maybe you’d start laying down from now on when you tried. “I saw two men with the dragon mark.” You pinched the bridge of your nose while you tried to hold onto the little details.

“Should we call Raiden?”

“No, no it’s not urgent. I’ll write it down and tell him later. I was just… don’t be mad.” You offered a nervous smile and leaned up on your elbows. “I was just trying to get control over… well, anything.” You laughed. It had worked. You had no idea how you’d done it or what exactly you’d seen but you’d done it. You felt like crap but ink hadn’t exploded from you. You hadn’t hurt anyone but yourself. According to Liu, you weren’t even having a fit. You’d been unconscious.

You’d take that as a win.

It was a huge improvement.

“I thought that maybe if I tried to have a vision instead of being forced into one then maybe it would be less devastating.”

“Y/N…” Liu couldn’t have looked more concerned. He didn’t have to say it. You could just tell. “You should have told me. Or Lao. That’s not something you should do alone. It’s dangerous. You could have gotten seriously hurt and no one would have been there to help you.”

“I considered that, Liu, but I need to be able to handle this on my own. You won’t always be with me and I don’t… what if I hurt someone else? It’s different when it’s you. You’re a tough guy. You can handle it but what if… what if I hurt just… Chen or one of my friends? I’d rather it just be me.” You shivered. He smiled sympathetically; those dark eyes filled with a strange admiration. He seemed to have more to say but he held his tongue. He bowed his head in understanding. You appreciated that he was trying, even if he was worried. You’d lived your whole life without him by your side and you needed your independence. He respected that about you and you were grateful for him.

“You’re freezing, Y/N.” He grasped your hand and brushed his thumb over the side of it You got the shivers, but not because you were cold. He had the gentlest and most thoughtful touch.

“Fever probably. This is the second vision today. I suppose I was sort of playing a dangerous game of chicken without thinking.”

“You were. Living very dangerously lately, Y/N. Dancing in lightning storms, for example.” His eyes sparkled and flickered up to yours before down to the prayer beads wrapped around his wrist. He’d been fiddling with them less. Interesting. “I heard about your vision earlier today.” Liu’s smile was soft, his lips just barely upturned. He leaned a little closer to you. “You saved a lot of people from what I hear.”

“I don’t want to take credit for that, Liu. I just saw. I didn’t do any saving.”

“Not taking credit for it doesn’t make it less true.” Liu was often wise in ways that you could never be.

“I’m assuming that you brought me back to my room?”

“Yes. I didn’t want you to be out in the rain. I was going to bring you to the infirmary but I wanted to give you a chance to wake up if it was a vision. I knew that’s what you would have wanted. I figured it was safe to bring you here. Raiden has a way of knowing when things are going catastrophically. He would have found you before I did if it had been something worse.”

You wondered if that was why he had come to you earlier. Had he sensed you’d seen something important? Or perhaps he had felt your panic and knew you’d been in trouble? You struggled to push yourself into a sitting position so Liu helped you do so. His hands were careful and gentle, strong and secure. It reminded you of when you had first arrived at the temple. He had taken such good care of you. You bowed your thanks and then scooted enough so that you could look out your window and watch the rain.

The storm raged on but the thunder was distant now. Rain and wind were kings. Raiden had told you to get control of your visions and your arcana if you wanted to survive and have a fighting chance. It was your only shot to live through this long enough to figure out your truth. You should tell Liu but that was a conversation for another time. He was worried enough. If it came up then you would tell him. No secrets.

He sat next to you before the window but he faced you, legs folded. You watched the rain and he watched you watching it.

“May I say something?” Liu placed his hand on your forearm. His fingers were stained with soot and the soot stained your arm. He was warm. Dramatically warmer than you and it sent a shiver straight through you. He smiled but it faded quickly. “Confess something, rather.” Oh, you hated the way he worded that. What did that mean? You couldn’t make any assumptions. He’d tell you.

“Of course you can, Liu.” You shivered again. Fuck it. Whatever he wanted to say, you would deal with the fallout afterward. Why were you always afraid of rejection? Liu retracted his hand and you immediately missed his touch. He scooted so he was just next to you and stared out the window like you did. He seemed to struggle to find his words.

“Kung Lao and I made a childish bet over which one of us would win your heart.” The words came out very matter-of-factly, like it was a simple thing. You did a double take. Of all the scenarios you’d been panicking about in your head, this was not one of them.

“Huh?” How were you supposed to process that? A bet? What did that even mean, exactly? How could they bet on something like that? You knew how but you didn’t understand.

“It’s stupid. I know. We called it off. No more bet but I still had to tell you that we did it.”

“So… wait, huh?” You laughed in disbelief, feeling a little dumb for not understanding. “I’m sorry, but you made a bet? On my feelings? Like… some terrible movie-style bet made at my expense? Two macho jerks betting on the feelings of another human?”

“If it makes it any better the stakes were just chores.”

“Wow, my feelings are worth chores.” You gasped in disbelief.

“I never felt good about it, Y/N, but it was… harmless. We figured that you were going to make a choice at some point anyway. I uh…” He was suddenly tongue-tied, a very funny thing to see happen to Liu Kang. Like he knew what he had to say but no matter how he spun it, it would come out wrong. “It wasn’t an excuse to trick you into doing anything like… that.” He was uncomfortable talking about romance. Oh no. It was adorable. Like he could be any cuter. “It was just a stupid bet. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It felt manipulative and… I’m sorry, Y/N.”

This had Kung Lao written all over it in capital letters. You could even hear the proposition in Kung Lao’s voice! You bet that he’d put Liu up to it.

“Kung Lao felt guilty too.” Liu was avoiding your eyes. You could see the guilt weighing on his shoulders. Ah, yes. You recognized it now. They had both appeared guilty as shit in separate circumstances. That explained that.

“And what exactly would I get out of this bet, hmm? Like… is someone going to do my chores? I feel like either way I would have won so… someone should be doing my chores.” You tapped your finger on his knee and he laughed in surprise.

“Y/N!”

“What, Liu? Am I supposed to be mad?”

“I thought you might be hurt by it and…” Liu drifted off and watching him drenched in guilt made you a little sad. It was sweet but also sad. He’d been so worried about your feelings getting hurt. If you hadn’t known him so well then it would have hurt but you did. He never would have intentionally done something to hurt you like that.

“Well, answer a question for me.” You were going to have a hard time asking it.

“Of course.”

“Has any of what… you’ve done or what’s happened between us… has it been because of this bet?” That came out easier than you’d expected. Good.

“No.” He answered very quickly and then laughed at himself. “I even held myself back a few times because of it.”

“Then why would I be mad?” You turned to face him, resting your arm against the wall next to the window. “I mean, it does give me some clarity. It explains the few times I noticed you both looking guilty without reason and… the hesitating… some weird behaviors.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” He picked up your hand and held it close to him. Yeah. He was definitely sorry. “I’m… confused that you aren’t angry. I expected you to be at least a little bit.”

“Did you know that the monks in the infirmary are betting on which one of you that I end up with?” You were immune to people in the temple betting on your feelings these days. Maybe if the stakes had been you fucking them it would have felt different, but that hadn’t been the case. Liu clearly did not know they were betting on you in the infirmary, judging by the wide-eyed stare he gave you. You nodded to confirm that it was true and he looked away in disbelief. “It seemed to me like everyone except for me is making a profit off of my feelings. All I get to do is agonize over said feelings.” He laughed. You looked to him in mock aghast.

“It’s funny, Y/N.”

“Yeah, I guess it is a little funny.” You chuckled. Liu’s laughter faded and so did his smile.

“You’re really not angry?”

Wow, you thought you were the overthinker of the bunch.

“Did you fake any of it?” You nervously listed off the incidents on your fingers. “The touches… the close calls? The uh…” You couldn’t believe that you were talking about this so plainly. “The kisses?”

“I don’t think that can be faked, Y/N.”

“Then yeah, I’m not mad.”

“…I’m surprised. I was nervous to tell you.”

“…do I come off as particularly difficult to deal with? I mean other than the visions and the ink stuff.”

“No, it’s not that but…” Liu’s nervous laugh was quiet and cute. “I suppose that I don’t know you well enough to know how you’d react to something like that. And I felt terrible about it from the very beginning. I think that I built it to be something bigger in my head than it actually was.” Liu adjusted the prayer beads from his palm to his wrist again and you admired him as he did. It was kind of nice to see someone besides you a little nervous for once.

“...would you like me to pretend that I’m mad? Would that help? I can stomp around and huff and throw a fit about it. We can have a little pretend fight before I have a change of heart and understand why you did what you did, etcetera.” You suggested with a smile. Liu considered this and looked away but you could see a smile beneath his serious expression.

“That could be fun.”

“I’m really not mad, Liu.” You chuckled and rested your hand on his forearm. His posture shifted back to his usual confidence. “I might pretend that I’m a little mad until Kung Lao tells me though.”

“Oh, please do. This was his idea. Give him a taste of his own medicine.”

“It stunk of Kung Lao.” You gave his arm a squeeze. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“It’s a huge weight off of my chest.” Liu beamed. You’d never seen him with such a goofy grin on his face. It was charming. “Are you hungry?”

“Umm…”

“Food. Are you hungry? Want to grab a bite to eat with me?”

“I’m not super hungry, but yeah, I should probably eat.”

“I can grab some food and bring it back here. You should be resting after today.”

“I’m fine to go to get food, Liu.” You smiled at his insistence.

“I’m happy to, Y/N. Then it can just be the two of us.” He practically bounced off of your bed and toward the door. You watched him in delight and then rested back against the wall. “I’ll be right back with food. Don’t try to have any more visions, okay?”

“I promise.” You laughed and watched him leave. Then you pulled the blankets around your shoulders, still freezing. Today had been a lot to process. Two visions. One had saved lives; the other was vaguer and more confusing. Either way, you hadn’t exploded with ink or hurt anyone but yourself and that was an improvement. Then there were those little sneaks, Kung Lao and Liu Kang. Making bets behind your back!

You’d been taken off guard but Liu had softened the blow. He had this way about him. Besides, what made their bet so much different from the bet that the monks had in the infirmary? There was no point in being angry about it. It’d only hurt you more. You had enough going on and in the span of things it didn’t seem so important. In fact, it was kind of funny. You were just glad that it had ended before anyone’s feelings had gotten hurt.

_________________________________

Tag List

@shang-hung (lol i wasn't sure if you meant you wanted to be tagged or not so I guess here you go?? Let me know if you want me to take you off!)

[newcaptainofsquad9]

So, When Can We Tell The World? {1} Min Yoongi x black! fem! reader

Parts: 1 2 3 4  5 6 

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Summary: You and Yoongi have been collaborating for a few years, what the public world didn’t know however was that the both of you were in a happy, functioning relationship. After showing up to support at one of your shows, Yoongi suggests going public, making you anxious for him, but most of all your own well-being with his fans and of what the South Korean public would think of you. 

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Romance, Idol-verse, Smut (hinted at in this part, but none explicitly)

Word Count: 2, 046

Author’s Note: So, here we are another series. I know too many, but this one will probably be the same chapter length as Shakespeare Sub, I promise. Anyways, I hope ya’ll enjoy it and if ya’ll have any BTS or EXO requests, send them my way. Thanks!

The last song of the concert always feels surreal. The stage isn’t huge, just a decent sized theater in Bluetsville(your hometown). It’s the thought that gets me, I’ve played at bigger venues before, yet coming back always gets me emotional. Once the song finishes I smile so hard my cheeks hurt and glance out into the crowd as applause fills the entire venue. 

One person stands out the most with his over-sized black hoodie, glasses and a cap with my stage name on it. I wouldn’t have done a double take if he didn’t flash that familiar gummy smile, as if he knew I was going to look there. It’s only a moment, yet I recognize Yoongi’s smile anywhere, he hardly does it even around me. Maybe his fans don’t notice him but in that slip second I did as he claps the loudest before sending me his finger hearts. I start to do it back, but stop myself abruptly. No, that’ll just draw attention to us. It’s almost an exclusive k-pop gesture, which someone on Twitter could easily pick up on. Instead I send him a quick wink. 

“Thank you so much!” I scream.

The crowd reacts in thunderous applause once more, I give one last bow and turn back towards the curtain, disappearing behind it.

***

I find myself dressed down in my dressing room, wearing one of Yoongi’s old hoodies, a snapback and grey sweats. My phone lights up abruptly, signalling an upcoming call from my brother, Kevin of all people. 

“Sup loser,” I say through a low giggle. 

“Yo idiot,” he answers back, “how’d the show go?”

I sigh with a dopey grin.

It was amazing. Even though the people packed together in swayed, waved and sung together like a frenzied horde, I couldn’t help but think back to Yoongi. I hope he got to wherever he needed to safely. 

“Uh, did you hear me?” Kevin asks. 

“Y-Yeah,” I say quickly, “it went amazing, a little more daunting compared to my first tour.”

Kevin gaffs.   

“If that didn’t boost your chances at the Grammys, I don’t know what will!” 

I chuckle against the phone at my brother’s words. 

“I don’t think that’s how it works Kev,” I say, “I don’t really care, they invited me, I guess to preform.”

Kevin hums. 

“Yeah?” he asks, “And what about ol’ Agust D, eh? he performing with you? I heard him and the guys were supposed to be there too.”

I can’t help but smile when he mentions Yoongi’s other rap persona. That album was what made me discover Yoongi’s music, along with BTS’s discography and eventually pushed me to want to collaborate with them. What I didn’t expect was to fall in love with Yoongi during our time recording All The Crown Players(a song from your album). 

“I’m not really sure,” I say, “you know how they can be.”

“Oh, I know, how can they snub you twice!” Kevin whines, “anyway, I gotta go! Next time you talk to ol’ Suga tell him I said hey!”

I roll my eyes. 

“I told you  to call him Yoongi,” I groan. 

“Ey, that’s what the fans call him,” he says, “talk to you later, love you.”

“Love you too idiot,” I say.

Kevin starts to say something else but I hang up anyway. If he’s got something to do he won’t call back as fast and I won’t get another earful. 

“That’s what you get for teasing me about my boyfriend,” I mutter to myself.  

A text from Yoongi lights my phone up instead. 

Yoongi: It amazes me every time you perform, God you were so amazing babe

My dopey smile returns once my fingers numbly tap the keypad in response.

Me: I saw you at the end! How the hell did you get in without anyone recognizing you?

Yoongi responds straight away.

Yoongi: I have my ways. I’ve been doing this for seven years sweetheart, I’ve mastered the art of incognito mode. 😎

My grin spreads out at his message. My fingers follow the lame joke that pops into my head, yet I couldn’t care less.

Me: So, what you’re Batman? No, Anpanman! 😂😂

I giggle out as Yoongi’s response takes a little longer, as it should. Between my lame jokes and Jin’s dad jokes I think he’s fed up with the both of us. At least with me it makes some sort of sense. 

A moment passes, instead of a text back I get a call from Yoongi. Oh boy. 

“Hello?” I answer.

“I know you’re laughing,” Yoongi says, “I just want to confirm that it wasn’t funny.”

I cover my mouth to stifle the remaining giggles that flood out. 

“I know, but it’s true,” I say, “you are my Anpanman.”

Yoongi grumbles something that I can’t make out. 

“Sorry babe, what was that?” I ask. 

“Nothing Jagi,” he says, “anyway —”

“Yoongi,” I warn, “tell me, please?”

Yoongi sighs deeply.

“I said, I better be your Anpanman,” he admits, “are you happy now?” 

“Yes,” I say, “how long are you gonna be here?”

“As long as you want me,” Yoongi answers, “we got a small break before Grammys and the MMAs. I was wondering if we could meet at your place.”

My heart hammers in my chest at his words. We’ve stayed with each other overnight before, yet I always feel like I’m some lovestuck teenager when I’m around Yoongi. We rarely get moments together, if it’s public we have to remain friendly, but not too friendly to raise dating suspicions. Even when he’s here in America it’s difficult to schedule time for each other. I’m an artist too and BTS is getting just as huge, the fact that Yoongi and I both have time before the Grammy’s is a God send.    

“Y/N?” Yoongi asks, breaking me from my thoughts. 

“Yeah, we can meet there,” I reassure, “you still have a key?”

“You know I do,” he says, “see you there.”

I bit my lip before humming in agreement. 

***

The moment I step across the threshold of my house, I shut the door and twist the locks in place. A pair of strong arms wrap around my waist before I can get a chance to take my hands off the cold locks. 

“I need to go to your shows more often,” Yoongi says. 

I shiver at his breath near my ear and turn around in his arms to face him. He’s in his dark hoodie, but the hat is gone, revealing soft, short brown hair that falls into his eyes. 

“You come when you can,” I say, “I’m just glad you got there safely.”

Yoongi chuckles while he moves a hand up to cup my face. 

“You worry too much,” he notes, “I’m here, ok?”

His eyes soften as they bore into mine, he leans in to press our foreheads together. I follow his lead, our lips meet in a fierce kiss, something we haven’t been able to do in months. My fingers find themselves in his brown locks as he groans into the kiss, backing up slightly, yet not disconnecting from my lips. 

I pull back with a giggle.

“Are you good?”

Yoongi nods and nudges his head towards my velvet sofa. 

“I just wanted to take this to the couch,” he admits, “your concert took everything out of me.”

“Oh really?”

Yoongi nods as I take his hand and lead him to the sofa before we both plop down on it. 

“Really,” he confirms with a kiss, “you kinda got me worked up actually.”

I return his kisses fully, pull myself up into his lap and rub down his chest. 

“Is that in a good way?” I challenge. 

Yoongi growls against my jaw, kissing down my neck as his hands rub up and down my sides. 

“Oh it’s good baby, so good,” he groans, “God, tug your fingers in my hair again.”

I nod as our lips meet once again, my fingers find themselves in his hair as our make out continues. His moans make me smile, his hips bucking up against me as the kisses grow hungrier. 

“You’re so needy,” I whisper, “do you need me to take care of that?”

Yoongi’s eyes close as he nods. 

“Please, I, God, I love you,” he moans. 

My hands freeze once I reach for the buckle of his pants. Did he just say the l word? 

Yoongi opens his eyes, the lust that was once there is replaced with concern.

“Y/N?” he asks, “you all right?”

I nod and slide back onto the couch from his lap. 

“Yeah,” I lie. 

Of course I knew he loved me, he never says it though. I’m the one you says it, and Yoongi always responds with a “me too” or “love you more.” Never fully. It shouldn’t bother me much, yet it does for some reason. 

“Y/N,” Yoongi says. 

I look up and his face is only an inch from my own. 

“Was that too much?” he asks, “what did I do wrong?”

I stroke his cheek and shake my head. 

“Nothing, it’s just,” I pause before continuing, “it was just surprising to hear I love you from you.”

Yoongi pulls back to pull me into an embrace. 

“You had me worried,” he whispers, “I know I need to say it more especially when we’re pressed for time together.”

I smile in the crook of his neck. 

“No, it’s fine,” I say, “we can keep it between us.”

Yoongi pulls back with a puzzled glare.

“What do you mean?”

I sit up and gnaw at my lip. 

“Maybe, we shouldn’t say it often, because I don’t want it to slip out at the wrong time,” I explain, “with ARMY and all those girls clawing at you.”

Yoongi chuckles as he leans in to plant a few kisses down my neck. 

“Do they make you jealous?” he asks.

I can hardly focus as his lips continue to work. 

“Well, a little,” I say, “it’s a lot to live up to.”

Yoongi grows serious. I end up against his chest as his arms wound themselves tightly around me. His heart beats rhythmically in tune with mine, forcing me to calm down just a bit.

“They don’t hold a candle to you,” he says, “I love them, but it’s a different type of love. You know I’d do anything for you, right?”

The words get lodged in my throat at the intense look Yoongi throws at me. He’s completely serious. 

“Yoongi-”

“Y/N, I want to tell the world,” he admits, “ARMY, everyone.”

Where is he going with this?

“Yoongi, what are you-”

“We should be official,” Yoongi declares.

My mind goes haywire. He isn’t serious, right?

“But we are official,” I say, “Yoongi, we’ve already established that we’re dating.”

Yoongi shakes his head this time.

“Y/N you know what I mean,” he says, “I don’t want to hide anymore.”

A rush comes to my head at once. The headlines would be horrendous: “BTS star Suga has been revealed to be dating ‘urban’ Hip Hop artist Y/N Y/L/N.” Kpop Twitter will literally implode in on itself. Yoongi won’t get any rest and I won’t be able to live it down. If I was Korean maybe, just maybe I would get out alive, even if I was white too, but as a black woman? There’s not a chance in hell.

“Babe, please tell me what you’re thinking,” Yoongi pleads,”you’ve been quiet for awhile.”

“Yoongi, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I say.

“How come?” he asks.

“Well, for one, do you know what happened with Chen? Kai? Jennie?” I ask, “the fans would devour me!”

“They wouldn’t,” he grumbles, “you’re an amazing person, singer, rapper and writer.”

“Yeah and black,” I say bluntly, “they can’t get past that.”

Yoongi takes both of my hands prior to squeezing tightly. 

“I know, but they’ll just have to handle it, right?”

It’s like the words aren’t even being comprehended. Does he not hear me? 

I inhale slowly and stand from the couch. 

“Y/N-”

I give Yoongi an artificial smile, something to get him off my back for a moment. 

“I-I’m ok, I-I just need some time to myself,” I say. 

Yoongi deflates, but nods anyway before leaning back into the couch. 

[madpanda75]

“Taking Chances Part 5: Busted”

Find out what happens when Sonny walks in on the reader and Rafael mid-coitus...cause what could be more embarrassing 😳 Also you’ll get some of Sonny’s perspective in this chapter.

Thanks for all the amazing feedback! If anyone wants to be added to my tag list, let me know ❤️

Sonny whistled a tune as he walked down the hallway towards your apartment. The law book. The pancakes. It was all a ruse. You had been avoiding your big brother for weeks. Further confirmed by the fact that you didn’t respond to his text the night before. Something was off and Sonny wanted to find out what it was.

Did he feel guilty about checking up on you? Of course he did, but you were his baby sister. It was only natural for him to be worried and he actually did leave his immigration law book at your apartment. So technically, he did have a valid reason for stopping by. At least that was what he kept telling himself.

While walking Sonny bumped into your neighbors just as they were leaving their home. “Hey...uh…Sandra and Tom, right? It’s Sonny Carisi. I’m just stoppin’ by to check on Y/N.”

Sandra scoffed and shook her head. “Hope you brought your ear plugs.”

Sonny knitted his eyebrows in confusion. “Ear plugs?”

“Good luck, pal.” Tom patted Sonny on the shoulder and left to catch up with his wife.

Sonny glanced between your neighbors and the front door of your home. He could hear the faint sound of music playing inside. Taking out his spare key, he opened your door and stepped inside. “Hello?” He called out, but there was no answer. Sonny assumed you were painting. You always played music whenever you were working on a piece, completely lost in your own creative little universe.

As he headed down the foyer, a wave of relief washed over him. Everything was fine. You were probably busy with the gallery and your art. He was just overreacting. Working at SVU, it was hard not to assume the worst. Unfortunately, the detective was reminded of what happened to people who make assumptions when he turned the corner.

Sonny froze in his tracks, shocked at the scene he was witnessing. There you were laying on a table with your back arched, moaning loudly while a dark-haired man’s head was between your legs. His sweet precious baby sister who would beg him to play Pretty Pretty Princess over and over again; who used to sing in the youth choir at St. Thomas. The teeniest feather could’ve knocked him over in that moment.

“Y/N?!” He exclaimed.

Upon hearing your name, you turned your head. “Sonny!” You screamed and immediately tried to cover yourself.

Sonny was horrified. It was like witnessing a car crash. The most horrific carnage-filled car crash. He silently prayed to God for a sudden bout of hysterical blindness. Although even with his eyes shut, the images he had just seen would forever be seared into his brain. He was going to need trauma counseling and wondered if perhaps his boss’s therapist was available.

Just when Sonny thought it couldn’t get any worse, the head of a certain sharp-tongue, sassy, snarky ADA popped up like some sick version of Whack-A-Mole. The man in question looked almost as stunned as the blue-eyed detective. “Carisi,” Rafael softly said and wiped his chin and lips—which were coated in your arousal.

When Sonny saw Rafael, everything suddenly clicked into place—the recent tardiness, the perfume. It was you. You were the mysterious hook-up the squad had been teasing Rafael about. Sonny choked back the bile rising in his throat and then he saw red. Fury flashed before his eyes. His fists shook with rage. Never in his life had he wanted to hit someone so much as he did right then. “RAFAEL?!” He boomed and dropped his bag of groceries. “What the fuck is goin’ on here?!”

You hopped off the table, quickly picking Rafael’s sweater up off the floor and putting it on.“Sonny?! Get OUT!” You shouted in a shrill voice and stomped your foot like a petulant child.

“Seriously, Y/N?! On Nonna’s table!” Sonny ran a hand through his hair, his eyes were wild.

Rafael cautiously took a step closer, not wanting you to catch all the heat from your big brother. After all it took two to tango and to be fair, he could understand why Carisi was upset. This certainly was not what Rafael had in mind when he wanted to break the news that you and him were dating. “Carisi, I can explain,” he calmly said.

“Explain my ass.” Sonny marched up to Rafael and got right in his face, prodding the ADA in the chest. “That’s my baby sister you’re defiling on a family heirloom,” he growled.

You moved in between the two men, recognizing by the tone in his voice that Rafael was seconds away from getting punched in the face by your brother. “Sonny, calm down.”

“And you!” Sonny looked you up and down while shaking his head in disapproval. “Is this why you’ve been so busy? Cause you’re more interested in fucking some guy than spending time with your own family?”

You drew a sharp intake of breath at his harsh words. Your brother had never spoken to you like that before. You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed, wanting the floor to swallow you up whole.

Rafael saw the hurt in your eyes and something inside him snapped. Before his brain could even process what his body was doing, he pulled his fist back and punched Sonny square in the nose.

“Oh my God!” You stood there with your jaw dropped open, completely stunned—at Sonny, at Rafael, and at Rafael’s fist colliding with Sonny’s face.

Sonny doubled over and pinched the bridge of his nose, tears welling up in his eyes. “My nose!”

“Don’t you dare speak to her like that,” Rafael snarled and clutched his fist, trying to flex his fingers, his knuckles red and swollen. “Fuck, my hand!”

The two men groaned in excruciating pain. You glanced between them, not entirely sure who to go to first, your boyfriend or your brother. “Wow, Ma was right,” you mumbled to yourself. “Men really are just overgrown children.”

Sonny glared at Rafael, his nose bleeding profusely and began to lunge at him with his fist in the air ready to counter-attack. Thankfully, you were prepared this time and jumped in between them both with your arms outstretched, palms pressing against each of their chests as you pushed them off each other.

“STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!” You turned and pointed to Rafael. “You sit DOWN and don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Rafael immediately followed your orders, kind of turned on by your dominant side shining through, but now was not the time to tell you that.

You then turned to your brother. “You. Bathroom. NOW!” Sonny wouldn’t budge, muttering to himself in Italian as he tried to wipe the blood off his nose. “NOW!” You smacked him upside the head.

“Ow! Ok, I’m goin’! I’m goin!’” He held his hands up in surrender and headed down the hallway.

“Put those long limbs of yours to good use and walk a little faster then!” You said, hot on his heels.

Rafael could hear you both bickering all the way to the bathroom, your normally non-existent Staten Island accent coming out in full force. It was strange. He had never really noticed a family resemblance between you and Sonny until now.

*****

Sonny sat on the edge of your tub, nursing his swollen, tender nose. To stop the bleeding, you split a tampon in half and shoved each part up his nostrils. It wasn’t broken, but bruising was already beginning to form. He was gonna have a great time trying to explain two black eyes and a bashed-in nose to the squad on Monday morning. Who knew Rafael had such a killer right hook?

You walked into the bathroom—now dressed in your own clothes—and silently handed him a bag of frozen corn. In order to keep the peace, you had to put Sonny and Rafael in timeout. If it worked for your nieces and nephews, it would certainly work for your brother and your boyfriend.

“Thanks,” he muttered and held the frozen vegetables up to his face, wincing in pain. “Where’s Barba?”

“Still sitting at the table with his hand under a bag of frozen peas. You both owe me for groceries by the way.” You stood there, studying the tiled floor in silence before clearing your throat. “I better go check on Rafael.”

Just as you were about to leave, Sonny took hold of your hand. “Y/N, wait a sec, will ya’?”

You pulled out of his grasp and turned to face him, crossing your arms. “What is it?”

Sonny sighed and looked up at you with black eyes and a bloody nose. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I shoulda’ never said that. It’s just when I saw you and Barba. I freaked out. Please forgive me.”

You mulled over his apology for a moment, worrying your bottom lip. “I forgive you,” you replied before punching him hard in the left shoulder. Rafael had nothing on you. Over the years, your brother had done a stellar job teaching you how to fight. You may have been the creative, sensitive artist, but you could also quit your day job and become an MMA cage fighter if you wanted to.

“Ow! Jeezus!” He hissed in pain. “What was that for? I said I was sorry!”

“Rafael got a hit in and now it’s my turn.” You clutched your brother by the collar. “Don’t ever speak to me like that again or I’ll do worse. I’m a grown-ass woman and this is my home. My boyfriend can eat me out cafeteria-style and make me cum until I scream if I want him to!”

“Oh God! I didn’t need to hear that! Please do me a favor. Take somethin’ sharp and pointy and gouge out my eyeballs and puncture my eardrums, will ya’? Haven’t I been punished enough?” He groaned.

“For barging into my home and embarrassing me in front of Rafael? No, you haven’t.” You let go of Sonny’s shirt and sat down next to him, taking the bag of frozen corn and bringing it back up to his face. Your expression softened a bit. You loved Sonny with all your heart. His recent outburst aside, he was the best big brother a girl could ask for. “I shoulda never given you a spare key.”

“How did you two even meet?” He asked.

You shrugged. “He stopped by the gallery one day and then I ran into him again that night you and I were supposed to get dinner. The rest is history.” You softly smiled, thinking back to that first embarrassing encounter with Rafael and everything that followed. That first drink. That first kiss. Reflecting back on this past month, you realized that slowly but surely Rafael had changed your life for the better. “Guess you kinda had a part to play in all this. If it wasn’t for you cancelling on me. We may have never gotten together.”

Sonny pushed your hand away from his face. “Don’t say that. I don’t want to be responsible for this.” He sadly shook his head and got up. “I better get goin’.”

“Sonny, wait!” You followed him out of the bathroom and down the hallway.

He ignored you, tossing the bag of frozen corn on the table where Rafael was still sitting, flipping through Sonny’s immigration law book.

“Here’s your book,” Rafael said, handing it over.

“Thanks,” he sneered and snatched the book out of Rafael’s hands before heading to the door.

“Carisi!” Rafael called out.

Sonny whipped around to find the ADA right behind him. “What?”

“You have a tampon up your nose,” Rafael coldly replied.

Sonny’s cheeks turned bright red. He pulled the tampon out of his nostrils and tossed it on the ground before leaving.

You flinched when you heard the door slam and crept up beside Rafael. Wrapping his arms around you, he kissed the top of your head and sighed. “I hate to say it, but I knew we should’ve told him earlier.”

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @frenchiefoxy​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @goodluckfindingone​ @scarlettsoldier​ @amirightcounselor​ @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii​ @graniairish​ @ashley-chi​ @imjustreallynosy​ @lolacolaempath 

[gamergirl929]

Teeth (Sonya Deville x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Can I request either Sonya or Becky smut based on the song Teeth by 5sos?

HEAVY WITH HEEL!SONYA SMUT BELOW. 

You wake the following covering your face with your hands when you realize the bed beside you is empty.  

The fight the following night replying vividly in your mind.  

You sigh, rolling over and burying your face in the pillow that still smells just like her shampoo.

In that same minute your phone starts to ring.  

“Like clockwork...” You mumble under your breath, answering the phone with a sigh.  

“I’m sorry Y/N, for the things I said, and for leaving. Please forgive me.” She whispers and you close your eyes exhaling loudly.  

“I forgive you.”  

                                                           ***

It’s the same day when the woman looks your way, eyeing you as if she has no clue who you are.  

You should be used to this treatment, used to the woman ignoring you in the work place, it’s not like your relationship, or whatever this was out for the entire world to see.  

Though you don’t expect her to be so hateful when you approach her and Mandy, the woman scoffing.  

“Do you need something?” She snorts and your brows furrow as you attempt to swallow the lump in your throat.  

You can feel tears gathering behind your eyes, quickly blinking to hold them back.  

“No, no I don’t.”  

                                                           ***

A knock on your hotel room that night has you rolling your eyes, but you answer the door, stepping aside so Sonya can enter the room.  

“I’m sorry Y/N...” She whispers and you frown.  

Sonya cups your cheeks, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.  

“You know I love you...” She whispers against your lips and your heard skips a beat as you reciprocate the kiss almost instantly.  

“I know you do.”  

The kisses as per usual heat up and Sonya shoves you towards the bed, her hands fumbling with your shorts while you shove her jacket off her shoulders.  

                                                           ***

You roll over hours later, Sonya still laying in your bed wearing a massive grin, the brunette rolling over as she pulls you against her chest, ducking to kiss the top of your head.  

“I love you Y/N.” She whispers and your heart skips a beat, the grin on your face massive.  

“I love you too.”  

Sonya nuzzles into the top of your head and you smile, quickly falling asleep in the woman’s arms, content and feeling safe in the woman’s arms.  

                                                           ***

Again, brown orb settle on you backstage, the woman turning to whisper to Mandy who turns to you with a giggle before leaning towards the former MMA fight again.  

You shake your head, turning away, but again you find your eyes drifting towards the woman whose eyes narrow when she sees your Y/E/C orbs on her.  

The look in her eyes something akin to when you pass a stranger on the sidewalk, you no longer see the sparkling of love that you’d seen in her eyes the night before.  

You turn away, knowing what the night had in store for you.  

                                                           ***

Lightning never strikes twice, but in the case of your relationship with Sonya Deville, it struck dozens of times.  

The woman’s fist only hits the door once before you’re jerking it open, stepping aside to once again let her inside.  

You don’t even wait for the apology tonight, instead shoving Sonya back against the door and unzipping her pants, the woman in no way trying to stop you as she shucks her coat before jerking your shirt over your head.  

The second your shirt is off Sonya shoves you towards the bed, shoving you back until you fall on the soft surface, the woman climbing on top of you, burying her face in between your breasts, biting, nipping and sucking on your flesh.  

“Fuck, Sonya...” You moan, arching your hips and Sonya smirks, sucking on your nipple as she jerks your shorts down your legs, lifting your hips to aid her in ridding you of the offending clothing.  

Almost immediately her hand disappears between your legs, fingers stroking your clit as your hips rock.  

You shove the woman off of you, before stripping her, revealing the muscular form beneath.  

Sonya’s back hits the bed this time and almost immediately you duck your head between her legs, the woman groaning loudly as she arches her back, your tongue flicking against her clit before teasing her entrance.  

“Fuckkk...” The woman growls as you slip your tongue inside her, exploring while you brush your nose back and forth across her clit, the woman’s hips rutting fast, without any since of rhythm.  

Sonya suddenly rolls the two of you over, pinning your hands above your head as she lowers herself down on top of you, her sex brushing against your own.  

Without any warning she starts rolling her hips, hard, the room filling with the sound of your thighs slapping together.  

Sonya sinks her teeth into your neck as the two of you rut into one another, an obscene moan passing between your parted lips.  

You can feel your release creeping up on you, the woman above you seeming to sense it as she starts tweaking your nipples, hips still rolling wildly.  

The former MMA fighter throws her head back, letting out a loud, raspy groan as she cums, the feel of her shaking and shuddering against you, the way her eyes roll in the back of her head pushes you over the edge as well.  

You cum with a whine, the woman grinning as she rocks into you, helping you down from your high before she rolls of you, panting with a smirk on her face.  

You roll towards her, your head resting on her chest, but seconds later, she slips out of bed.  

“Where are you going?” You ask with a frown and Sonya sighs.  

“Out. Look, we’re not even exclusive so...” Sonya shrugs as she searches for her clothes.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore, is this all you want from me!? Sex?!” You cry sadly.  

“I don’t have to stay here and deal with this, from you and I’m not going to. I have better things to do than lay in bed with you all night.” She bites and you shake your head, tears running down your cheeks, tears Sonya doesn’t see as she stomps out of the room, leaving you behind, much like she had a few nights before.  

                                                           ***

You wake the following morning, the bed once again empty beside you, the words Sonya’s said before she left playing over and over in your mind.  

Your phone almost immediately starts to ring and you pick it up, bringing it to your ear.  

“I’m sorry Y/N. Please forgive me.” She whispers and you close your eyes exhaling loudly.  

“I forgive you.”

[snowpeawritings]

wAit you write for persona???????? can i request hcs for what its like to be yusukes bf..? 👉👈

Reader is male

CW (CONTENT WARNING): None

- He would... appreciate if you were rich... Though he doesn’t care about financial values in a boyfriend... he won’t mind if you were loaded to feed his poor ass.

- In all seriousness, he doesn’t care for your money, he sees you as this gorgeous being that answers his art block. Even if you don’t agree with this vision of you, he’ll always say to you that he loves you for keeping up with him.

- You either signed up as his muse or his caretaker and in this case: both. He hopes you’re a good cook because he really can’t eat anything or cook anything. Just don’t cook crustaceans lest Yusuke will hoard them in his room.

- His sketchbooks and canvases are filled with your visages. Just wanna Flex my MMA course knowledge, his thumbs of your face can fill up to almost 2 sketchbooks and those aren’t even his chosen ones for his canvas. And even those chosen for the canvas he needs to make a new one. One time he submitted your painted portrait as a plate and you always had to cover your face in embarrassment when you see it in the hallway.

- You’ll also help him with buying art supplies that don’t destroy his wallet. With how much you hung out with him, you sort of developed a sixth sense on which art supply is just as great as high-end ones but sold for a cheap price. Though you have to physically drag Yusuke away from said high-end art supplies due to his habit.

- It’s really up to you to talk to Yusuke since he said so himself that no one talks to him at school. It doesn’t have to be anything special; just ask about his day, say that he looks good today-he really loves the attention.

[f-ckfeivor]

Until the Wind Calls You Back to Me

I’ve had this idea in my head for a female Eivor x reader fic for ages. So I’ve written the middle section cause I couldn’t get it out of my head and I have so much to write for a prequel and sequel/s. Which will contain, and I can’t stress this enough, SO much fluff and smut. Not sorry. 

Anyway, this is a modern day fic where the reader meets Eivor’s doppelganger/descendant at a museum in Denmark where the reader is doing research for the book she’s writing about Vikings. (Right?!)  Eivor is an MMA fighter who travels a lot. Her and reader end up spending the 5 days Eivor has left in Denmark together *wink, and then Eivor leaves for a new city, which is where this chapter begins.   Recommended Songs: 

Dancing with your Ghost - Sasha Sloan  Smoke Signals - Phoebe Bridgers 26 - Paramore

Until the Wind Calls You Back to Me You pad softly towards the living room in a sombre daze, pulling your arms tightly around you as you step, as if you’re trying to hold yourself together. You knew this was one possible outcome, that your time together could just come to an end, though you’d be lying if you said it was the outcome you wanted. Was it really the outcome she wanted? Maybe you were just another lover for her, someone to warm her bed and keep her occupied while she travelled, maybe she had one in every city. Did she? The thought brings a sharp pain to your chest and you swallow a hard lump in your throat. It hadn’t felt that way when you were together, you felt a connection and an energy between you that you swear you could almost touch … it felt so real. It was real. She couldn’t have faked how her pupils dilated when you brushed your lips against hers, how she quivered at your touch. You can’t wrap your head around it. Has she really just left?

The lump still sitting in your throat and tears stinging your eyes, your breath starts to catch as you look around at the empty hotel living room where the two of you had spent the majority of the last few days. Apart from your books and a few of your other belongings which had been carefully arranged into a little pile on the coffee table, the room had been cleared out. The room where you had laughed with her, learned about her, loved her and been loved by her, feels haunting and hollow in her absence. The memory of her deep, husky laugh echoes through you and you feel your knees start to weaken. Steadying yourself, you look at the clock and realise you’ve awoken much earlier than you had intended. Dragged from your slumber by the heart-wrenching realisation of Eivor’s departure. Tears still threatening to slip, you step into the room and over to the sofa where you had blissfully fallen back to sleep in Eivor’s arms just the morning before. You trace a hand along the plush fabric, the sensation of something real beneath your fingertips reminds you that this isn’t just a bad dream. You cast your gaze towards the window and notice something resting on the back of one of the armchairs, something that makes your heart jump in your chest. You step gingerly towards it and pick it up, gently squeezing the soft grey fabric. Her jumper. Instinctively you bring your arms up and press it tightly to your chest, inhaling her scent, letting it fill your lungs until your ribs ache. Your favourite jumper. She knew you loved the way she looked in this, and she loved the way you looked at her. Your mind wanders back to seeing her wearing it for the first time, how you were instantly captivated with the way the collar dropped and rested on her beautiful collarbones, three-quarter sleeves exposing tattooed arms covered in countless scars, her powerful back and shoulders stretching the fabric slightly. You wonder whether she had left it here by accident, it didn’t seem likely given how tidy she had left the rest of the room. In your sleep addled state you had gotten out of bed and wandered into the living room just wearing your knickers, only now do you realise how cold you are and you pull the jumper over your head. It’s loose on you and for a second you feel like she’s back there with you, wrapping her arms around you, consuming you. Tiredness begins to gnaw at you but you don’t know if you have the strength to make coffee. A task Eivor had always volunteered herself for. You sit for a moment, falling deep into a recent memory, still mesmerised by the smell and feel of her jumper on your bare skin. You cross your arms over your chest and run your hands down your arms until they come to rest cradling your elbows. Bracing yourself again, you stand up and slowly turn to the kitchenette. The kitchen is so tidy, definitely not how the two of you left it the night before. Eivor had quietly put everything away while you slept, cleared away all evidence of the food, drink and intimacies you had shared together the previous evening, except for one mug, her mug, left sitting in the middle of the counter. Was she doing this on purpose? Was she trying to hurt you? With hesitancy in your step you walk towards it. Your eyes flick to the coffee machine and you notice it’s switched on, the flashing red light indicating that it’s filled and ready. A melancholy smile twitches at the edges of your mouth as you look down into the mug in which Eivor has already placed half a teaspoon of sugar, just how you like it. The stinging tears now dangerously close to overflowing, you reach out your arm and realise how much you’re shaking. Placing the mug under the spout as steadily as your trembling hands allow, you press the small silver button and let the smell of fresh coffee begin to fill the air. You tilt your head back softly, close your eyes and let yourself be comforted by the familiar sounds of the humming machine, dripping coffee and the quiet whirr of the minifridge.  Opening your eyes slowly, you surrender to the ache in your chest and let a few tears spill onto your soft cheeks. You look back down at the counter and notice something where the mug had been. Vision clouded by watery ripples, you quickly blink away the tears for a clearer view. Your eyes come to focus on one of the hotel’s paper coasters; black ink and familiar writing. You freeze, breath stopping in your throat, your eyelids refusing to blink. After a few seconds you find yourself taking a long, deep breath. You pick up the small, round coaster and examine it closely, your eyes moving slowly and carefully over each pen mark. All of a sudden you can hear your heartbeat in your ears, warmth spreading rapidly from your chest to your fingertips. Her phone number. Underneath, a short handwritten note: ‘Until the wind calls you back to me’ 

[notstilinski]

Parent Teacher Conference

Title: Parent Teacher Conference

Word Count: 2, 416

Description:  “We’re still waiting for my dad. He’s late a lot.” Given the fact that he had never met the girl’s father, he couldn’t actually defend the man too much.

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix), The Witcher (Video games), Wiedźmin

Ship: Past Geralt/Yennfer, Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier 

Links: My ko-fi & the fic on ao3

A/N: This was originally posted on AO3 back in, like, February but I wanted to post it here as well! Things to keep in mind: Jaskier is a first grade teacher, Ciri is one of his students, Yennefer and Geralt are co-parenting Ciri, & Geralt is a professional MMA fighter. Also, Geraskier does not explicitly get together in this fic. I did not have a beta reader for this fic, either, so there’s definitely some grammatical mistakes throughout it. I would also like to note that I know virtually nothing about the book series and very little about the games. (Basically, what I mean, is that this is heavily based around the Netflix series).

    The day had been rather long. Parent after parent after parent gliding into his office to talk about their child’s strengths and weaknesses. How well they did in class, any concerns, any developments that came throughout the year. Most parents were happy with the reports of their children and took any soft criticism of the child’s work in stride. Jaskier never meant it in a rude way but it was his job to bring up things that his students needed a little extra work on. Practice that he couldn’t exactly give them in his classroom. There had been one or two parents who were less kind. There were always parents like that. The ones who insisted that he was mistaken or blamed him for the child’s shortcomings. (And he refused to think that any of his student’s had shortcomings, anyways. Just things that they struggled with). One particularly nasty mother had called him a shit teacher and he waited until her husband had guided her out of the room to lick his figurative wounds.

    Slumping into his chair, Jaskier reached out for his mug of coffee and sighed softly after a long sip. If you had asked him when he was younger what career he saw himself having? He probably would have never even given teaching a second thought. Music was always what interested him. And he had been somewhat successful in the small cafes and shitty bars scene. But it was not enough to pay the bills that he had and pay for the expenses of, well, living and trying to make music. Teaching was supposed to be a temporary thing - A backup plan for if he really couldn’t make it as a musician. Jaskier didn’t expect to enjoy it so much. He especially didn’t expect to fall in love with just about every student that he had in his few years of teaching.

    He was in the middle of sulking and getting lost in thought when a soft knock at his door caught his attention. Gaze flickered toward the clock on the wall as he tried to remember when his next meeting was. (There was only a handful of minutes between each meeting, he knew, but he didn’t think it had been that long since the last parents had waltzed out of his office). The door opened before Jaskier could say anything and in popped a head of white-blonde hair.

    “Hi Mr. Pankratz!”

    “Hello, Ciri!” Jaskier pushed himself away from his desk so he could stand up, “are you here with your parents?”

    Despite the meetings supposed to be just the parents and him, some insisted on having their children there. Other parents would bring their child along and leave them with another parents, the children going off to play in the gym or outside, as they waited for the meeting to be done so they could continue with group plans. Ciri was a mostly well-liked girl but Jaskier knew that she didn’t seem to have a lot of friends besides Dara. Another child who seemed to be mostly well-liked despite his lack of friends.

    “We’re still waiting for my dad. He’s late a lot.”

    Given the fact that he had never met the girl’s father, he couldn’t actually defend the man too much.

    He had only met Ciri’s mother on rare occasions, as well. She was just as beautiful and terrifying as one would think when they heard some of the things that other parents said about her. But she was a good mom and Jaskier couldn’t judge her on much besides that. Almost like she was summoned, the woman in question stepped up behind her daughter not a second later.

    “Yennefer,” Jaskier greeted as diplomatically as possible. He was terrified of her, after all.

   “Mr. Pankratz.”

    Geralt should have known better than to think that his ex-wife would call him the morning of the parent-teacher conference to remind him not to be late. Both Yennefer and Ciri knew that he was terrible at checking and replying to any sort of texts that he got. (The only reason that he was getting better was because it was an easier way to reach Ciri when he had free time). Just about everyone that he had passed stared as his hulking form rushed past, muttering as he went. Part of him couldn’t believe that Yennefer would let him be late to one of the handful of things to do with Ciri that he knew he could be there for. She usually never pulled anything when Ciri was concerned. Meanwhile, the other part of him? Well. He was trying to backtrack through the last few days in his head to see if he had done anything that would have pissed Yen off. As far as he knew, he hadn’t done anything in at least a week that would warrant her to be that petty.

   The next curse that threatened past his lips was quickly covered with a couch as he rounded the corner to be greeted by a gym half-filled with little kids and parents alike. Some people seemed to recognize him, it seemed, if the way a handful of children’s faces lit up was anything to go by. Some of the parents turned to each other to whisper to each other. He chose to ignore it and continue on his way in the direction he hoped the classroom was in. But he had the decency to wave to the group of kids that were staring at him like he was the coolest thing that they had ever seen in their short lives.

    It took another eight minutes of wandering and praying that he was going in the right direction to find the classroom. The only reason that he was sure of himself was the fact that Ciri was sitting outside the door - Someone had put a little table there so kids could wait outside and entertain themselves. A relieved breath escaped him as he slowly approached and waited to catch his daughter’s attention. Her face brightened as soon as she noticed him and she practically knocked her chair over in getting up to give him a hug.

   “Hey, princess,” he murmured and leaned down to kiss her on the forehead. “Is your mom already in the meeting?”

   “Mhm. They waited a little bit for you,” she supplied like that was supposed to help. It only made him feel worse.

   And cemented the knowledge that Yennefer was going to kill him for being late.

    “I’m sure they couldn’t wait to start talking about you,” Geralt teased as he finally detached himself from his daughter’s arms.

    Ruffling her hair as he walked past her to knock at the door, not waiting to get an answer before he was opening it just enough to slip inside. Yennefer gave him an unimpressed look that he had grown familiar with. The guy that she sat across from, the teacher, almost looked surprised as he stared at him. (The few times that Geralt met past teachers, coaches, instructors, etc. of Ciri’s, they always had the same reaction. No one expected Ciri’s father to be an MMA star and people still looked surprised even when they didn’t know who he was. Yennefer claimed it was because he looked like a bear… And acted like one, too).

    His ex-wife was the one to break the silence with a sharp clear of her throat. Yennefer gave a half-hearted wave toward Geralt as she turned her attention back to the teacher.

    “This is Ciri’s father. I’m sure he’s sorry that he’s late.”

   “Yen.” Geralt sounded tired before he stepped closer to where the two were sitting. Manners, he remembered after a half-second before he held out his hand, “Geralt Rivia.”

    The teacher took a moment to realize that Geralt had just spoken to him before he was snapping back to attention. A nervous laugh escaped him as the larger man allowed himself to glance him over. Hm. Well he seemed familiar enough. The handshake was cut off as the teacher carefully pulled his hand away, nervously tapping his fingers against his desk. Not something that either parent seemed to pay attention to since people being nervous around Geralt was normal for them.

   “I know.” Of course he did. “We met before.”

    Oh.

    Oh.

   Yennefer’s attention snapped to him again as her eyes narrowed while Geralt seemed to go still with shock. He tried to think back to when he would have met his daughter’s teacher. Maybe he had met him at something not school related. The man considered it as he looked at the teacher over and easily noticed the way that the other man’s cheeks seemed to flush.

   “No need to be so dramatic,” the other man laughed after an awkward moment. “It’s been awhile.”

    That didn’t help. Did he know how many people Geralt had met just within the past six months because of his career?

    “Oh! Uh- Julian Pankratz. We technically met, like, a really long time ago. In college and-”

   “You played at an event after one of my fights.” Recognition slowly flooded through his system. It was before he was actually a real MMA fighter and was still somewhat in school. The last year that he was in school, really. “You called yourself Jaskier.”

   Yennefer took a long moment to look between the two of them with a pinch in her eyebrows. Because it was completely normal to coincidentally know your daughter’s teacher from almost a decade before that. For another long second, it seemed like no one in the room knew exactly what to do.

   “Why don’t you sit down?” Jaskier motioned to the chair next to Yennefer as he cleared his throat, “this meeting is about Ciri, after all.”

   The rest of the meeting passed by rather quickly. Ciri was a bright girl, she got good grades and she was a delight to have in class. The only thing that they needed to worry about was how she didn’t seem to have any real friends besides Dara but other than that? Everything was good. Ciri was really the perfect student, if Jaskier did say so himself. He even had a rather easy time forgetting that he had met the girl’s father eight years before and that he had remembered him. He had remembered the name that he went by. Jaskier didn’t have much time to think about that fact with the handful of meetings that he had with other parents to complete the day.

   It wasn’t until he had finished all the meetings, packed up his planner and books and locked the door to his classroom that he allowed himself to think about it. Geralt hadn’t changed much in eight years. Besides the fact that he had found fame for himself as a fighter and seemed to be even bigger than he had been before. (Which was a feat in itself. Jaskier remembered the man being about the size of a brick building the first time that they had met). A small thought jabbed at him - The insistence of his mind to make him remember the crush that he had had on the older man. An inkling of it was still there, after all. But he refused to admit that it was still a legitimate crush.

   “He’s just attractive,” Jaskier muttered to himself, “you can admit that and not have a crush.”

   Except he totally still had a crush on Geralt Rivia.

   He wouldn’t be an idiot to not have a crush on Geralt Rivia.

   An annoyed groan escaped him, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he dug through his bag for the keys to his car. Feelings that were almost a decade old was not something that he needed to deal with. He didn’t want anything to focus on besides his job and his music. It was hard to focus on the latter, even when his job left him feeling so exhausted every time that he went home.

   “This is dumb,” he continued to mutter as he approached his car. “I’m dumb. Jesus.”

   “And you talk to yourself.”

   Jaskier was not proud of the surprised squawk that he had let out or how he had practically jumped out of his skin. The chuckle that came after that was more of a rumbling sound, something deep from a chest that seemed to be the size of a tree trunk. Amber eyes watched the younger man try to collect himself, amusement shining while Geralt didn’t move from where he was leaning against his own car. How long had it been since their meeting had ended? Had just sat there for however long?

   Amused amber met annoyed blue while Jaskier’s expression scrunched up into one of annoyance. If he had quicker reflexes than he might have even swung at Geralt before he realized who the voice belonged to. Not that his hit would do anything, anyways. Jaskier was sure that he would break his hand if he tried to hit any part of Geralt.

   “What’re you still doing here?” The teacher turned his back to the other man. An attempt to hide the blush that was rising on his cheeks and to unlock his car, as well.

   “Waiting for you.” Geralt made it sound like that was the most casual thing on earth.

   The younger man cast a curious glance over his shoulder, tugging the door to his car open to toss his bag onto the passenger seat. It was hard to tell if Geralt was being genuine and that brought up the question of why he would be waiting for Jaskier. It wasn’t like he had left that big of an impression on the man. (Maybe if he had then Geralt would have recognized him when he had stepped into his classroom instead of recognizing him by name).

   “Why are you waiting for me?”

   The question seemed to be what got to the other man. His demeanor shifting in a tiny way that anyone else probably wouldn’t have noticed. But Jaskier was almost familiar with the shift, had seen if happen years ago. Not to mention the fact that he was trying his best to not stare openly at the mountain of the man before him and seemed to be failing. Miserably. And very, very noticeably.

   “I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out for drinks.”

   Brain short circuiting, Jaskier turned to stare up at Geralt with an incredulous expression. “ Oh .”

[wienerbarnes]

boxer!bucky hc

pairing: boxer!bucky x personal trainer!fem!reader

word count: 1,878

warnings: SINFUL SMUT 18+ PLSSSSSSSS (vaginal sex, squirting, face fucking, i need jesus)

a/n: inspired by @gagmebucky’s sinful group chat and all the wonderful ppl in for feeding the smutty devil in my brain

• the first time bucky notices you is when you’re walking out of the boxing gym women’s locker room

• he notices your tight spandex shorts and your “personal coach” shirt and your strong calves and thick thighs and built arms and-

• focus barnes

• or he tries to at least

• left hook, right hook, fake out left hook, right body kick-

• you walk over to a punching back a couple bags away from him and begin taping up your hands, your black boxing gloves squeezed in between your toned thighs

• buckys sweating twice as much as he was before

• he cant help but stare, an animalistic feeling taking over body

• you reach for your gloves between your legs, god bucky wishes that was his head

• your eyes meet his and you wink

• you fucking WINK at him

• bucky feels a heat flow through his body from his chest to his abdomen

• he smirks and looks away to continue his combos, if he doesnt focus he’ll end up staring at you all day

• his ears perk up at the sound of your grunts as you throw punches and kicks to the heavy bag and bucky thinks he might have to switch gyms all together to refrain from jumping your bones

• he takes another glance at you and he sees the sweat trickling from the back of your ear, down your neck, and under your shirt, oh how he would love to lick down the trail

• bucky cant control himself

• “need some help with your stance, sugar?”

• “funny you ask, im actually the head boxing coach here at the gym”

• god dammit, barnes, you moron

• “you actually look like you need some help yourself”

• bucky tried to think of what you could do to help him, an mma boxer, with-

• “have you found the saunas alright?”

• oh

• o h

• its like a silent connection between the two of you, asking if he wants the same thing you want

• “no actually i havent, mind showing me around a bit?”

• bucky has trained at this gym since he got into boxing years and years ago and knows exactly where just about everything is in the gym

• but he wont tell you that

• you lead him around the main floor of gym pointing out different machines and such until he finds himself following you down a quieter hallway.

• you reach a door with what he can only assume is your name posted on the front with the title “boxing director” and you open it before throwing a teasing smirk over your shoulder at him

• he follows you inside and urges can no longer be contained as he pushes you against the door to close it

• he smashes his lips to you and his hands find the curve of your waist as your hands reach to pull his hair from the bun its tied in and sink your fingers into his scalp

• just making out with you like this is getting him hornier than a thirteen year old

• he starts to creep his hand up under your shirt and you pull away to lift the sweaty t-shirt up and over your head and onto the floor

• your lips reattach to his and hes pulling your tight shorts down your thick, muscled legs

• you yank his tank top off and he grabs you from behind your knees to lift you and lean you against the back of the door

• hes finally kissing down the salty sweet trail of your neck as your ankles lock behind him and your thighs squeeze his torso

• he cant help moan at the feeling of your thighs around him and your hands running through his hair

• he pulls away from your neck and puts three of his fingers into your mouth, your saliva getting them slick for whats to come

• he stares deep into your hazy eyes and you stare straight into his almost black irises and you suck and suck and suck, covering his fingers in your spit

• bucky pulls his fingers from your mouth, a line of saliva connecting from your lips as his fingers trail lower, pushing your thin underwear aside and rubbing along your folds, the saliva mixing with your juices

• bucky cant help but moan as you whimper and your thighs tighten further around him

• as he slips a finger in you, slowly stretching you out, you pull your arms back and peel off your tight sports bra freeing your ample breasts as they bounce after being released

• bucky plants wet kisses around your chest, tongue poking out and licking around and over your nipples as he slips a second finger in you

• youre a moaning mess and your eyes have rolled back and bucky cant get enough of this

• he imagines this is what heaven is, or if its not, its gotta be close

• bucky can feel the mess hes leaking in his training shorts and slips a third finger into your tight, wet hole

• youre a shaking mess

• “p-please, please put it in me, please”

• you desperately try to pull his shorts down with your toes and bucky can feel your calves flexing against his sides

• it turns him on even more?

• he pulls his fingers out of you and an extra string of your wetness trails with his fingers

• he uses the slickness leftover on his hand from fingering you and uses it to lube up his hard cock

• you look down at the dark red tip leaking with pre cum and moan at the sight and attempt to grind up on him as if to slide it in you yourself

• bucky finally leans closer and runs the swollen tip of his dick along your hole, which is clenching around nothing

• you both moan loudly as he finally pushes himself in you

• neither of you can believe how intensely good it feels

• he stretches you out deliciously and you squeeze him heavenly

• he immediately bucks into you and a hard and fast pace, craving your sweet moans, tight squeezes of your thighs around him, and small clenches of your smooth walls around his cock

• this HAS to be heaven, he determines

• your head falls back and you yank on his hair harder than before and he latches onto your now exposed neck, where he desperately sucks and licks at your warm skin

• while hes there, he starts whispering the filthiest things in your ear

• “yea, you like that?”

• “got a stranger fucking you against your door, naughty girl”

• “yea, baby, squeeze me tighter, give it to me, give it to me”

• “feels so fucking good, sugar”

• his arms lift a little higher and wrap tightly around your waist as he pulls you down onto him and you start to moan almost uncontrollably

• he shoves his fingers back into your mouth to quiet you a bit and you moan around them

• he feels the slickness seeping out of you as he fucks you faster and deeper, wetting the inner portions of your thighs

• “fuck, im gonna cum already,”

• your mumbling around his fingers, some of it desperate begging and some of his he cant even understand as hes literally fucking you senseless

• as you clench tighter and tighter around his pulsing cock, he slips the fingers from your mouth and reaches down to roughly rub your clit

• you gasp and the whimpers and moans fall out of your mouth

• “yes! please! right there, right there! yes, yes, yes, im gonna cum!”

• youre shaking and spasming as he feels you cream all over his cock, he moans loudly at the feeling and cant resist following suit, filling your swollen pussy to the brim with his cum

• but he doesnt stop

• with his cock still in you and the mix of yours and his cum drips out of your pussy and down your thighs, he begins rubbing at your clit again, faster and rougher than before

• “cmon baby, gimme one more, i know you can do it just give me one more”

• your mouth is dropped open as your consumed with pleasure, drool leaking out of your lax jaw

• he feels it before you do

• that very specific pressure deep inside you

• he spits down where youre both still conjoined, making you even more wet with slick dripping from you onto the floor as he rubs and rubs and rubs until-

• you let out a small scream as you gush and squirt on his cock, spraying and covering his abdomen and spilling on the floor

• “yea baby i knew you could do it, give me more, give me all you got”

• buckys hard again and thrusts in you at an unrelenting pace, your juices occasionally squirting out of you and onto his abs

• hes chasing his second orgasm and basically using you as his own fuck doll, grip tight at your waist as he practically brings you up and down on his cock

• you dont even know if your still on planet earth anymore

• everything youre feeling is so overwhelming

• but you l o v e it

• at this point, your juices are uncontrollable; every thrust bucky gives is welcomed by a gush of your wetness, a puddle forming on the floor

• did you cum again? more than twice? you dont even know anymore

• bucky suddenly pulls out and plops you on the ground, but catching you by surprise, you legs give out and you sink to your knees, landing in the puddle of your own juices

• he grabs your face with one hand by the cheeks and uses his other hand to shove his cock in your mouth

• he starts fucking your face at the same pace he was fucking your pussy and he throws his head back and moans into the air

• your moans are muffled but you purr around the thickness moving in and out of your mouth

• “yeah! yeah! yeah! your mouth feels so fucking good, im gonna cum!”

• bucky freezes and gives a few precursory thrusts before you feel his warm cum shoot into your mouth and slide your throat

• you swallow every last drop

• bucky struggles to catch his breath as you continue to lightly suck him and give his tip innocent-like licks

• he pulls you up by your arms and leans you against the wall again, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your tongue

• you both quietly moan into the kiss as you come down from your highs

• needless to say, bucky now trains with you specifically at the gym, upgrading his mma membership to premium, and you showing him the way to the saunas every time because, silly him, he just always seems to forget where they are

[howaboutleeches]

For the Au, trope, prompt thing. How about 9, 9 and 2 with Julian?

“For the Au, trope, prompt thing. How about 9, 9 and 2 with Julian?”

9 - camp!au

9 -  strangers to lovers

2 -  “fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck.”

(Sorry in advance for my lack of knowledge about summer camps. I’ve never been to one and all my info about it comes from USA movies. I hope you like it though ;) )

@gangsterloli

——————————————————————————————————–

“His warmth” Camp!AU (Julian x Reader)

Word Count: 1,934

It was that time of the year again. Moody teenagers, hot weather and mosquitoes as predators. Summer camp was happening once again and now you were officially qualified to be a Camp Monitor. You remembered ‘till this day all of your monitors and how they were the best people ever. They always made summers happier, even if you didn’t want to go camping that year. And now, you were one of them.

You were now waiting at the bus stop for the minivan who was supposed to pick up all the monitors. Asra and Nadia were casually talking, also waiting for the van as you decided to drift into your thoughts and imagine all the possibilities of the next three weeks.

“Excuse, are you also monitors?” Your head snapped at the source of the sudden voice.

Standing tall, the skinny but charming man had his cheeks red and his chest going up and down with exhaustion. The tips of his hair were sweaty and you realized he had opened a few buttons of his monitor shirt. Damn.

“Yes, we are! Are you the new monitor, Jason?” Nadia extended a polite hand to the red-haired man and he responded with a very excited handshake.

“Actually it’s Julian, but no worries” He then proceeded to shake Asra’s hand with the same vigor and turned to you.

Both your eyes lingered on each other’s for a while before sharing the last handshake of the moment. You just stood awkwardly close to each other waiting for the van to arrive.

The trip was really quiet and everyone seemed to be trapped in their own thoughts. You looked through the window, taking in all the beautiful nature around you. The closer you got to the camp, the fewer buildings and houses you would see, and more green would be presented to you. Memories of the past years you went to the camping site crossed your mind. Hiking, laughing close to the fire…your first kiss.

“The last to get out of the bus has to carry all the bags!” Asra joked and rushed out of the van, rapidly followed by Nadia.

You got up quickly, not wanting to face the punishment and bumped straight to what felt like a brick wall. Eyeing you down, the tall redhead held a chuckle and gave you enough space to pass through. You accepted and quickly waddled out of the van.

Of course, as an act of kindness, you decided to help Julian with all the bags. Most of them were easy to carry, but when you had to deal with Nadia’s, it took both of you and Asra to be able to move it to your shared room. Her excuse was something among the lines of “the weather is crazy in here, you never know what to expect”. Forecast who?

“So, why did you decide to become a camp monitor?” The sudden voice from behind your back spooked you. Turning slightly, you could see Julian’s soft smile towards you.

“Well, I’ve spent most of my summers coming here and I really enjoyed it. I always admired the monitors though. They were always so happy, full of life. It looked like they were having more fun than all of us. I had my chance to be one and I didn’t want to waste it. What about you?”

“Well…I’m actually here in a secret mission, you know. My younger sister is going to spend her vacation here and I, accidentally, overheard her talking to some friends about the reason. There’s this guy, a few years older than her, that’s also coming. I had to do my duty as a caring older brother and not let her do anything stupid”

I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I definitely didn’t picture him as an overprotective older brother. But it was a little cute though. We proceeded with the small talk until noon when we had to get together with the rest of the team and make the pair’s divisions. We waited in the cafeteria for a few minutes until a tree of a man showed up.

He had his long dark hair tied up in a man bun and his physic was more similar to an MMA fighter than to a logistics guy. He analyzed each one of our faces and looked at his clipboard, trying to match names, photos and whatever other notes he had taken previously. He then nodded to himself and proceeded to point at each one of us with his pen.

“Nadia and Asra, Fane and Pietros, Maika and Kilian, Julian and (Y/n)” We looked at each other simultaneously and gave each other a warm smile. The logistics guy, Muriel, just rolled his eyes at the common excitement and retrieved to the room he came from.

————————————————————————————————-

“OKAY, WHO’S READY FOR THE BEST TREASURE HUNT EVER?” I yelled at the top of my lungs and heard howls and excited screams coming from the twenty-five teenagers in front of me “Jules, would you like to explain the rules?”

Julian rubbed his hands together before saying each of the treasure hunt rules as if they were sacred. It was really funny to watch him get so into this job. As a result of spending almost three weeks together, always talking and planning activities, you were really close by now. Sometimes both of you would just sit under a tree in front of the lake instead of going to sleep and talk about everything and anything that popped into one of your heads at the moment. Of course, you couldn’t be spotted by any of the teens or else it would be a huge problem, but all of it being a secret between you made things even more exciting. After the main rules were given, he turned to me, and I knew what it meant.

“Now, there are ten riddles hidden in the campsite. You’re all familiarized with it by now, so it should be easy for everyone to guess where we should go next to look for the next clue. And now…LET’S WIN” A horn sounded in the middle of the woods and you ran towards the campfire place. All you knew was that the first clue was there and nothing else. Everything was also a mystery to you.

Your group was smart and after ten intense minutes, you all were headed to the final clue. Portia, who you later found out was Julian’s sisters, was coincidently in your group, and she had found the 9th clue. “ “What always runs but never walks, often murmurs, never talks, has a bed but never sleeps, has a mouth but never eats?” What kind of riddle is that?” She angrily questioned.

Marvin, the quiet kid in your group, raised his hand energetically “I know, I know! It’s a river!” And then, everyone ran like crazy towards the nearest river, and the only one we had seen since we arrived. There was a boat on the edge of the river with a sign saying “monitors only”.

Apparently, it was way too dangerous for the kids, but it was okay for us to take the risk. Damn Muriel. We alerted the teens to stay away from the water as Julian and I would get into the boat, get the clue and get out, as fast as possible. They all agreed and we ran towards the boat. I, somehow, managed to jump right into it, but Julian wasn’t that lucky. While jumping into it, he gave the boat some impulse, making us back away from the shore.

Obviously, my first instinct was to pull him inside the boat, but after that, we were both getting further and further away from the kids we were supposed to be watching.

“fuck. fuck fuck fuck fuck this shit. fuck.” Julian mutter to himself like a mantra and it was honestly making me nervous.

“Julian, do you know how to swim?” He looked at me and nodded vigorously. I grabbed the clue, held it tightly in a fist and pulled Julian up by his wrist. I counted to three and then felt the cold water absorbing me into darkness. Well, this is definitely different than the pool. Or the beach. Yeah, definitely different. I tried to swim up, hold onto something, but I had let go of Julian and now I felt completely desperate.

I could feel my fingertips getting colder by the second and my body becoming heavier. I couldn’t end like this. My heart was beating too fast for its own good and I was feeling the urge to breathe, but I couldn’t, or else it would be the end. My eyelids were slowly closing when I felt this sudden pressure on my wrist and then my body was being pulled upwards.

Air filled my lungs in a matter of seconds and a cough harshly came out of my throat. My savior, Julian, was smiling at me, his cheeks as red as an apple and his long hair sticking on his face. I felt a sudden urge and I knew I had to do it immediately. I grabbed his face and pulled him towards me, giving him a very passionate kiss. I ran my thumbs on his cheeks and he gave into the kids. Of course, it didn’t last very long since I was already out of breath, but it was totally worth it.

We swam to the shore being greeted with whistles, claps and a very disgusted Portia, complaining about how all that was very inappropriate and that she would tell Mazelinka. Even being wet, we managed to read the next little and rushed to the final point. We were the first group to get there, meaning we had won the treasure hunt. Our group won double dessert, they could stay awake until 2AM, and the monitors were allowed to use the hydro.

“Are you guys okay? What happened?” Asra asked when he arrived with his group in second place.

“Oh trust me, everything is fine” Julian replied, holding my hand.

After eating our deserved dessert and making sure everything was in its place, we headed to the hydro. He was already in it when I got there and I felt a little embarrassed to take off my robe in front of him, even if I was wearing a bathing suit underneath it. He, reading my thoughts, covered his eyes and gave me enough time to take the robe off and hop into the hydro, sitting across from him.

“Are you sure you want to sit there, so far? After basically harassing me, I thought you would want some closure” I splashed some water in him in a joking manner.

“Oh, please, I was just dizzy and wasn’t thinking straight. You can’t take rushed and unthought actions seriously.” He gave me a smug grin and slowly leaned closer, putting his finger under my chin.

“Are you still dizzy?”

“No”

“Good”

He brushed our lips together before closing the gap between our mouths. He was warmer than I expected and, just like magic, I was sitting on his lap, his hand firmly holding my hips and my arms around his neck. He separated the kiss and looked me deep in the eyes.

“ I really like you. I want to get to know you. I want to make you happy every day. I want to make your heart beat faster and your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Will you let me?”

I leaned on his chest, his warmth comforting me. “Only if you let me do the same to you.”

——————————————————————————————————-

So   much    fluff    

I loved it!