#it's whoever is there for you when you needed it

[y3sterdaysproblem]

the shift - c.s.

takes place after this

cw: yelling, crying, mentions of drug use, implied sex

wc: 4.2k

part of the fwb!chris series

it’s been weeks.

weeks of radio silence from chris, and you weren’t giving him anything to work with either. in your head, you said what you needed to say, and the ball was in his court.

he never responded after the last message, more than likely trying to pick up the pieces of whatever relationship he had, for whatever reason. she didn’t seem worth it. she seemed boring, innocent, annoying. every time she spoke it sounded like nails on a chalkboard and you had to check to make sure your ears weren’t bleeding.

ever since the party and the incident, you’ve kept yourself as busy as possible; picking up shifts, going out with friends, cleaning your entire apartment every few days, just to avoid thinking about how badly you fucked everything up, just to avoid the chris sized hole in your life.

being alone was never something that bothered you, always enjoying time by yourself to do whatever you wanted to do, even if that was just rotting and doom scrolling, nobody could tell you you couldn’t do it.

you’re doing exactly that, body wrapped up in a blanket as you lounged on your couch in comfortable clothes, legs tucked under you. the tv was on a low volume in front of you, and at first you thought the knocking was coming from the show that played lowly, but when you paused it and heard it again, you realized it was your door that somebody was banging on.

you didn’t want to move, hoping that whoever it was would just leave you alone eventually, probably trying to sell you some shit you didn’t need anyway, but when your door rattled for a third time, you huffed and threw the blanket off of yourself, standing up and walking towards the door. “i’m coming!” you yelled, approaching the door and finally ripping it open, your eyes widening and heart dropping to your stomach when you saw who was on the other side.

“it’s been a long time since i’ve heard you say that,” he says, a slight smirk forming on his lips.

you’re unamused, staring at him across the doorway silently. he rolls his eyes at your lack of response, pushing past you until he was inside your apartment. you didn’t say anything, shutting the door and turning around to face him, eyebrows raised like you were waiting for him to speak.

chris turns to face you and sighs, realizing you weren’t in the mood for jokes. “I left my favorite lighter here,” he says, and you can’t help but scoff out a laugh. “a lighter? a fucking lighter? you’re here because you left a lighter?” you shake your head in disbelief and push past him, knowing exactly which lighter he was talking about. it was on your coffee table getting daily use from every time you lit a blunt when you would smoke at night or on days off like this. “you’re the most ridiculous person i’ve ever met,” you mumble, mostly to yourself as you reach for the lighter, spinning around on your heels to hand it to chris.

you knew he was following you into the living room, but you had no idea he was standing as close as he was, and the second you were facing him, he was closing the distance.

chris’s hands reached out for you, one hand landing on your waist and the other wrapping around to the back of your head, pulling your body closer to his as he leaned down and slammed his lips on yours, sighing softly once they finally made contact. you’re caught of guard, hands held out on either side of you as you process what was happening, the lighter slipping from your fingers as you finally move to grasp onto the front of his shirt, holding him close for a moment before pushing him back, pulling your head back to stare at him confusedly. “chris, what the fuck?” you question, and his hands never leave your body as he dips his head down to bury into your neck, lips pressing against your skin fervently, teeth nipping like he couldn’t get enough. “i’m sorry,” he whispers against your jaw, pulling your bodies together again, closing the gap you created when you pushed him away. “you’re right, I was out of line, we were both at fault, forgive me.”

you felt like you were dreaming, partly because you’ve never experienced chris apologizing before, especially not so profusely, and also because your body was melting into his habitually, like no time had passed, like you’d never been angry at all. “chris,” you breathe out, head tilting away from him as your eyes fluttered shut. “you can’t just come into my house and fuck me and think everything will go back to normal.”

“i’m apologizing at the same time,” chris responds, pulling his face away to stare down at you. “you were right, she’s too boring for me. I was so mad because I felt like someone finally gave me the time of day, felt like I could be myself around her but I couldn’t. I wasn’t myself around her and I can’t be myself around anyone except…” he pauses and sucks in a small breath before sighing out again. “listen, i’m sorry. I shouldn’t have blown up at you like that. I feel sick to my stomach saying this out loud but I missed you,” he pauses after he says this, eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness.

it was hard not to give in instantly and forgive him, especially with the way his fingertips dug into your skin, desperate to feel you as close as he could. he couldn’t pinpoint why he felt so needy, so eager to feel you on him, all he knew was apologizing was the quickest way to have you sprawled out underneath him just the way he liked, but you were still far too angry to crack just yet.

“chris, do you even remember what you said to me?” you question, still wrapped up in his arms but with enough distance to glare up at him. “do you remember what you called me? how you backed me into a wall and made me cry? how you embarrassed me in front of all of our friends? or do you only care about making up so we can go back to fucking?”

you start push away from him fully as you speak, his hands falling to his sides as he watches you back up and create a bigger gap between you both. his mouth opens to speak, then closes again, his shoulders drawing up into an awkward shrug. “I know I was mean but I was mad,” he defends himself, dismissing it like it wasn’t that big of a deal. “you might as well have left a hickey on my neck, it gave the same impression.”

you let a small breath of air puff out from your nostrils, a mix between a scoff and a laugh, unable to believe the words coming from his mouth. “mean?” you sneer. “you think you were just mean? you yelled at me in front of everybody, called me a whore, called me exhausting, said nobody would ever deal with me, you said I was stupid and that I ruin everything, but you think you were just mean? chris, there’s been days that I lay in bed half the day because all I can think about is if what you said is true or not.” you’re unaware of the way the tip of your nose starts turning red and your cheeks turn blotchy, a clear indicator that you’re about to start crying, only realizing it once you see chris’s expression change and the way he shifts uncomfortably between his feet. that’s when your nose starts to burn and your eyes start to flood with tears.

“I didn’t mean it, I was just mad,” chris tries to console, taking a step closer to you again, but you back away to keep the same distance. “listen, we say rude shit to each other all the the time, what’s the difference now?”

“the fucking difference is you did it in front of twenty people!” you yell, a fat tear sliding down your cheek. “I can handle you being mean, don’t think I can’t, but you berating me like that just proves how awful of a person you really are!” chris is stunned into silence, eyes wide and eyebrows raised, but only for a few moments as he’s never been too good at keeping his mouth shut. “berating is a little much, don’t you think?” he starts, already starting to feel himself get annoyed by your accusations. “sure, I was mad, but you left fucking lip gloss on my neck! I mean, how do you think she felt knowing I dragged you off to talk and then I come back with shit all over my neck?!”

“how do you think I felt?!” you yell back, not caring about the fact that your neighbors could definitely hear you. “who gives a fuck what she felt, she’s a fucking nobody! what about me?! why do you never stop to fucking think about the way your words affect me?!” you’re fully sobbing now, cheeks covered in thick tears, voice cracking as you choke out your words. “i’m supposed to be your friend over everything. fuck the sex, fuck the weed, fuck the stupid little bitches you bring around that you let get between us, you’re supposed to be my friend before all of that and you showed me that you care more about some attention from a prude than the feelings of somebody you’re meant to care about.”

chris reaches his hands up to his face and rubs it harshly, groaning into his palms as he processes what you’re saying. “can you stop with all these jealous little comments? she wasn’t just a prude or some girl that got between us, she was nice and funny and pretty and she didn’t care about fucking me or smoking my shit. she didn’t care about what I had, she just listened to me and liked being around me. she saw me.” his hands drop back to his sides and as his eyes refocus on you, he can’t help the twinge of sadness that pangs in his chest as he sees your expression, sees how distraught you really were. he even considered cutting this conversation short to pull you into his arms and apologize until your tears had dried. chris was a little bit too much of an asshole for this, though.

“she saw you?” you laugh wetly, running an anxious hand through your hair. “what exactly did she see? did she see the way you play with your lips when you get nervous? did she see how you always place your phone face down when you’re with people so it doesn’t distract you from the moment?” you take a couple steps closer to him, close enough to reach out and touch him if you wanted to. “did she see how you always eat your fries before your burger even though that’s fucking weird and wrong? did she see the way you flinch every time someone says they love you, even if it’s your fucking brothers, because you can’t even grasp the concept of love existing when it involves you? I bet she didn’t see any of that shit, because she doesn’t care about you.” you pick your arm up before you can stop yourself, sniffling loudly as you jab your finger into his chest, staring at it as you made contact to avoid his eyes that watched you intently. “not… not like I do.”

chris furrows his brows together at your words, head tilting down to glance at your finger pointed into his shirt, then brought it back up slightly to look at you again. “like you do? is that a joke?” he asks, voice quieter than before. you groan and slam your palm into his chest, pushing him away again before turning around and starting to pace in your living room. your heart was beating so loud you could feel it in your ears, the sound rushing through in a rhythmic boom-boom, boom-boom, boom-boom. “listen, i’m sorry that I yelled at you, but she actually meant something to me whether you believe it or not. she actually wanted to be around me and spend time together.”

chris tries to reach out to stop your pacing, but you only shoved his hands away as they came closer to you. “so what are you doing here, then?” you snark, looking up at him as you walked a straight line, then stopped and turned around to walk it back. “shouldn’t you be with her, your perfect princess?”

he groans at your attitude, throwing his head back to stare at the ceiling for a moment. “oh my fucking god,” chris mumbles under his breath, almost like he was speaking with the omnipotent being for the strength to deal with you. “i’m not interested anymore,” he tells you finally, bringing his head back to look at you. “I told you. you were right, her and I aren’t compatible no matter how much attention she gives me.”

your feet stop on your carpeted floor, turning to face the man in front of you. “so what, you wanna go back to just fucking all the time? is that what you’re here for?” you ask him, crossing your arms over your chest. chris shrugs his shoulders awkwardly. “I miss the sex yeah,” he starts slowly. “but I also miss… the other stuff.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him, not appreciating his vagueness. “other stuff?” you question, and chris nods. “like… going for drives together, or watching movies and eating leftovers. listening to you ramble on about shit I don’t care about. I think I miss just being around you. i’m not sure, though, i’ve never really felt that with anybody else.”

your heart felt like it couldn’t beat any faster without risking the chance of it actually beating out of your chest, pounding so hard now you were sure chris could see it under your ribcage. “you actually just miss me?” you ask in disbelief. he nods again, nervously playing with his fingers. “yes,” he admits. “can you just forgive me and we move on?”

you narrow your eyes at him, mulling over his words carefully. “no,” you say flatly. “what?!” chris sputtered, holding his hands out in annoyance. “what else do you fucking want?! I was wrong, i’m standing here in front of you admitting my faults, I don’t know what the fuck else you could actually want from me!” he’s beyond frustrated now, ready to give up and walk out.

you tilt your head, keeping eye contact with him as a small smirk appears on your lips.

“I want you to admit you’re in love with me.”

chris’s chin tucks into his chest, head shaking as he processes what you just said. “you what?” he questioned, taken aback by your request.

“you heard me,” you respond sassily. “there is no way the only reason you’re here is because you miss me. you said it yourself, you want all the little things back. when was the last time you just wanted to be around a girl?” you take a step closer to chris, your eyes locked on each other’s as you reduced the space between your bodies.

“I don’t fucking know,” chris responds defensively, bumping into the coffee table as he tries to back away. “i’m not-“

“don’t even,” you interrupt. “i’m not in love with you!” chris shouts. “you think i’d be dumb enough to fall in love with a girl that would never love me back? I took a step away for a fucking reason and tried to put my energy in somebody that would actually return my feelings.”

“maybe if you fucking told me what your feelings were I could tell you if I returned them or not,” you groaned, infuriated by his dumb boy-ness and lack of awareness. “don’t,” chris sighs out, his fingers itching to reach out for you. “you don’t get to say shit like that and get my hopes up.”

you reach out and sling your arms around chris’s neck, stepping up so your bodies are pressed against one another. “chris, please let your guard down for fucking once and be honest with me,” you say in a soft tone, staring up into his eyes that are starting to soften, his hard exterior damaged under your gaze. “I can’t,” chris chokes out, his own hands coming up to rest on your waist, pulling you closer. “yes you can,” you coax, threading your fingers gently through the hair on the back of his head.

chris licks his lips slowly and stares down at you, drawing in deep breath after deep breath to try and ground himself, feeling like his heart was going to crawl up his throat. “i’m sorry,” he says softly, shaking his head a bit. “I can’t tell you what you want to hear.” you sigh and drop your head forward to rest on his chest, letting your eyes flutter shut for a moment. “i’m right here,” you tell him. “just let me in, chris.”

he lets out a shaky breath and brings his left hand around to your back, sliding it up under your shirt to feel your skin under his own, his right hand sliding up to your jaw to tilt your head back, allowing him to lean down and press your lips together again, slower this time, like he was trying to savor it.

you relaxed into the kiss, feeling the familiarity seeping back in as your chests pressed together and his hands held you close. “tell me,” you beg quietly against his lips, feeling him pull you closer as you spoke. chris slid his hand around to the back of your head, holding you firmer against him. “shut up,” he breathes, moving his mouth over your cheek and to your jaw, leaving gentle kisses in its wake. “chris, there’s no way i’m the only one feeling like this.”

“you already know how I feel, why do I have to say it out loud?” chris asks, teeth dragging along your skin carefully. “because if you know that I love you, I want you to tell me you love me, too.”

chris pauses his movements, pulling his head away to stare down at you. your head is tilted up to look at him and his hand still rests on the back of your head, gently holding you in place. “you what?”

you swallow thickly, realizing that there’s no backtracking now. you’ve already crossed an irreversible line and had to double down on your words. your next words were whispered softly, but it felt like the sound reverberated through your whole apartment.

“I love you, chris.”

“don’t mess with me, please, I can’t-“

“i’m serious,” you stop him, seeing the look on his face. it was one of pure desperation, almost begging for you to be telling the truth. “i’m in love with you.”

chris releases a shaky breath, one full of nerves and adrenaline. “fuck,” he whispers, leaning back down to slam your lips together again, this kiss full of passion and desire. “say it again,” he begs, voice muffled against your mouth.

“I love you,” you soothe, sliding your hand that didn’t rest in his hair up his chest, feeling his heart racing under your palm. “i’m right here.”

chris snakes his own hands down your body until they reach the backs of your thighs, scooping you up into his arms so your legs wrap around his waist, a small squeal leaving your lips at the sudden movement. he started walking towards your room, using your back to push the door open before taking a few steps to your bed, leaning forward to lay you against it, then keeping his place between your legs to settle above you.

“are you serious?” he asks, needing reassurance more than anything. “because if you’re fucking with me, I swear to god i’ll-“

“can you stop freaking out?” you ask, reaching a hand up to cover his mouth. “do you want me to be in love with you or not?” you raise your eyebrows up at him, your expression clearly saying ‘well?’

“yes,” chris rasps, nodding his head and pulling away a bit more to take in more of your figure. “yeah, more than anything.” you nod in response, reaching up to grab his shoulders to pull him back down towards you. “okay, well then if you can’t say it back, at least fuck me like you love me.”

“yeah, okay. I can do that.”

you’re laying under the covers, body pressed up against chris in every way possible; your head on his shoulder, arm over his stomach, leg draped over his, both of you relaxing into your post sex bliss. you didn’t even know how long you’ve been in your bedroom, too exhausted to keep track of time.

“chris?” you say softly, breaking the silence. he hums quietly to let you know he’s listening as his fingers trail up and down your back gently. “why are you so against relationships?”

chris pauses his movements for a split second, not expecting you to ask a question so deep. “uhh,” he starts awkwardly. “I don’t know.” you push yourself up on your elbow at his answer, staring down at him inquisitively. he reaches forward and gently moves some hair off of your shoulder, eyes trailing over your naked frame in admiration. “you definitely know,” you push.

he sighs and meets your gaze again, knowing that you weren’t going to drop the subject. “of course I know, but… it’s not exactly the most fun conversation to have in bed with the hottest girl i’ve ever met.” you shake your head and gently tap his nose. “you’re not getting out of this with compliments!” you tell him determinedly.

“alright, alright,” chris caves, shifting a bit underneath the covers. “my parents got divorced when I was really young and it really messed with my brothers and I but especially me. I was so dependent on being around my brothers at that time and my parents couldn’t even be in the same room without arguing so they never had a set schedule for who would have which kid and when. there would be days at a time that I would only see matt or nick while I was at school because they were at my dad’s house and I was at my mom’s. I hated being separated from them and I always blamed my parents. I blamed their relationship and their lack of commitment and lack of trying. in our eyes, it looked like they just gave up one day. when you’re a kid and you see love seemingly just disappear overnight, it doesn’t put the best taste in your mouth, so, I was like… eight years old when I decided I never wanted to love anybody.”

as chris speaks, you run your hand over his body gently, wherever you could reach; his chest, his collarbones, over his cheek, pushing hair out of his face gently, gazing down at him attentively to let him know you were listening. “that’s a big commitment when you’re that young,” you say gently, and he nods, pursing his lips and avoiding your gaze. “yeah, but… it’s worked.”

“has it?” you question hopefully, tilting his head towards you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours apprehensively. “can we not talk about my feelings?” chris asks, turning on his side to face you, his arm wrapping around your waist tightly. “it’s bad enough talking about my shitty upbringing, I just want to lay here and look at your pretty face.”

your cheeks burn red as his body pushes you onto your back again, hair splayed out on your pillow as he hovers above you. “i’m so lucky,” chris hums, dipping his face down to latch his lips to your chest, pressing gentle kisses on your skin as he moves the blanket off of you. “you’re not lucky yet, chris. you haven’t locked anything down,” you tease, trying to ignore the goosebumps forming on your skin. “shut the fuck up, you’re mine and you know it.” chris grumbles, tightening his grip on your waist.

“yeah, yeah, whatever, bitch. why don’t you put that mouth to better use and eat me out?” chris pulls his head away from your body to stare down at you with wide eyes. “you’re lucky you’re hot or I would smack your bitch ass,” he tells you, but despite his words starts moving down the bed, settling himself between your spread legs. “good boy,” you tease, patting his head gently.

chris grips your thighs tightly and pushes them further apart, sinking his teeth into the fleshy skin, eliciting a small whine from you.

“ouch!” you pout, grabbing onto his hair and trying to pull him away, but he stays put, sucking a dark, purple mark into your thigh. when he’s done, he pulls away and smiles at his work, then looks back up at you where you’re watching him with a longing expression. “see?” he says proudly.

“all mine.”

a/n: don’t get excited and think this is over, yall. they are toxic after all.

fwb!chris masterlist

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @rafesapprentice @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbratt333 @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @annsx03 @ouchywow @pasteldreams @sweetshuga @pip4444chris @chriss-slut @yourebeautifulqueen @watercolorskyy @courta13 @craftycrafter26 @meg4-matt44 @colorthecosmos444

[fanzou]

✗ Genre: Smut

“What, best friends don’t fuck?” He poses the questions so innocently, like it’s nothing. He’s kneeling between your legs and his very prominent bulge is inches close to you.

“S-Sanji…” You’re blushing like a damn virgin, “If someone finds us out—”

“—But they won’t, we’ll be quiet, princess. Trust me.” He’s rubbing his broad hand across your lap and your skirt is threatening to expose so much more than you wanted it to, and you’d venture to think that’s exactly what he was trying to make happen.

You’re nervous, only because anyone could walk right through that wooden door into the dark room you both were in. Sanji doesn’t give a shit, and it’s written all over his face and body.

You let out a shaky breath. “Okay, fine… but make it quick alright?”

His breath hitches, and you can see his muscles relax a little bit over your demand. He’s waited so long for this and tonight was the perfect night to finally make a move. Everyone was drunk out their mind anyways, so it didn’t matter. You were the only two fully conscious on board, though the concept seems surprising.

He’s removing his belt, and his long fingers moving so skillfully makes the heat in between your legs so much more noticeable. It’s practically radiating off of you and Sanji digs his thigh closer between your legs.

You didn’t wanna seem eager but the image in front of you was nothing short of exciting and it’s getting you to almost hypnotically move your hands to take off your panties while the man across from you already had his cock sprung and ready to put inside of you. What can he say? You told him to make it quick.

With your bare cunt facing him and your legs spread wide, you’re practically begging him to start his attack. Even though this was something that he wanted to make special, thoughtful and something never to forget, he guessed this could suffice.

Sanji lines himself up, and presses his cock against you. The intrusion was so much more than you thought it’d be. And it feels amazing. Amazing in the worst and best ways, the way it fully splits you and stuffs you all the same. It’s pleasurable and painful at the same time.

But you can’t let anyone sniff you both out. You’ll just have to get your quick orgasm in before anyone starts to suspect where you both have run off to. “Fuuuuuck… g-go… faster.”

And so he obeys, so much for truly being able to relish it.

He’s hardly a man who liked to be rushed during sex, his curved cock is grazing your insides just a little rougher than when he started and the whimper you let out proves it. “D-Don’t worry my love… next time… it’ll be so much more better. But I couldn’t stand it anymore. ‘Really fuckin’ needed you… oh shit.”

Your pleasure subsides for a second trying to puzzle together his insinuation, but then you hear something; footsteps.

Your eyes widen and dart at the door, then to Sanji, but he doesn’t care, he just comes closer to you and puts hand over your mouth. His grin gets wider and wider.

And he’s fucking you so much more quieter but there’s so much power in his thrusts, he tries not to push against your thighs too much because he knows the slapping will probably alert whoever was walking towards your room. He sloppily tries covering your sides with a blanket, this’ll work, he says, and he’s back to fucking you just a little harder than he did before.

You make it known to him, vocally, that you really appreciated the gesture.

The footsteps get louder and closer to where you can almost feel the vibrations off the floor. Sanji’s hand is like tape around your mouth, he wants you quiet but he fucks you like he’s daring you. He looks at you, then he looks to the door.

The steps are right by the door now, and they stop. Your heart drops.

“Where do you think shitty cook’s gone? Need him to get me some more booze.”

Sanji’s ecstatic. Like he wants Zoro to walk in, walk in on you getting fucked like your life depended on it. And you could sit here and pretend that you were absolutely in great terror of being found out by someone about the predicament you were in, but your pussy told the truth.

Much to Sanji’s disappointment, his sloppy and drunk footsteps walk the other direction. He removes his hand and watches your frustrated expression manifest.

You were clenching around him tighter and tighter and he knew exactly what that meant for you, the closer proximity between his cock in your tightened cunt made him feel like reeling into his own orgasm.

“You wanted him to walk in. Didn’t y-you? Yeah. You’re so d-dirty… ‘Wanted this more than me, huh princess?”

You could only take so much dirty talk. “Saaaaaaanji… stop talking… oh—” he pushes impossibly deep inside of you, and that’s when you let go. It was too much.

You squirted everywhere. And that was an understatement. It was bad. Like a lot of it went onto the floor and you’d have to clean it immediately after. But for now, Sanji’s chasing his own high. “You’re so… perfect. Fuck you’re amazing. Where do you want me, beautiful?” His thrusts get messy and the blanket is long gone, his skin on yours.

Not wanting anymore mess and a more obvious crime scene, “Just c-cum on my—fuck—stom-ach.

He obeys, and pulls out, he strokes himself on your stomach, with some of it pulling into your belly button. “Yeeees princeeeeess, oh shit…”

His chest is moving up and down and he stares at you lovingly before he smiles, it’s a genuine one, not laced with anything impure or malicious this time, fortunately for you. He’s back to normal Sanji.

“So… what would you have done if he walked in?” You ask him, genuinely curious.

“He’s plastered so, would’ve just made him watch us fuck. He probably wouldn’t have remembered it anyway.” He lays down next to you. “And if he did? ‘Nother thing to hold over his head.” You nuzzle into his chest for the short duration of time you had.

✗ A/N: Was drunk writing this. Do not mind the grammatical errors if there is any.

[vettelsvee]

LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE | Sebastian Vettel

High School History Teacher!Sebastian Vettel x Primary School Teacher!Reader ↳ Teacher AU ⋆ Part of CLASSROOM GOSSIPS

SUMMARY: Seb is stressed because his students did pretty bad in their latest History exam, but he gets more stressed and grumpy when Y/N, the cutest Primary School teacher according to Seb, arrives to the teacher's lounge to "annoy" him, but the truth is that there's more than that ↳ BASED ON THIS POST I MADE THE OTHER DAY!

WORD COUNT: 3099

WARNINGS: LOTS OF GRUMPY (Seb) X SUNSHINE (Reader), some bad words, cursing, nothing else but wait till the end because I assure you you're gonna love it!

TAGLIST: @koalapastries @vampsarereal @gracie23x @cutelittlefakejourneys @scopeiguess @hoziersfrancesca

VEE'S NOTES: I ABSOLUTELY adored writing this, and I hope you like it as much as I do! This goes all the way up to the top of my fave fics written by me. Also, a toast to you because you liked all this Teacher!Seb thing a lot 🥹 I'd love to read your opinions on this, so feel free to leave me a comment, an anon message or reblogging since it helps us creators a lot. Thank you so much for reading, and hope you like it! <3 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!

“How can you say that World War II ended with the fall of the Berlin Wall? My God...”

“It makes no sense at all, but if you ask whoever told you that, they’ll give you a convincing enough answer to make you pass their exam.”

Sebastian lifted his head, even though he didn't need to in order to know who was speaking.

Y/N Y/L/N, the second-grade teacher who is the pure representation of the sunshine itself. Your smile, always revealing your teeth, and your energy, isn’t exactly contagious to him, and even sometimes that'd be enough to make someone want to throw up.

You were standing in front of him, holding an absurd amount of papers. Seb couldn't avoid looking at you. No matter how much you might irritate him at times, he found you more than fascinating. He admired you in every single aspect and, somehow, that made him pretty angry with himself. You took the opportunity to silently show him some drawings of bees. Bees. Happy bees. Sad bees. Damn it, there were even bees wearing party hats and surrounded by confetti, and other baking and having coffee.

Sebastian said nothing. Instead, he ignored you and continued grading exams, but you didn't take it personally since you know how stressed he had to be with his class.

It didn't take long before a series of increasingly loud bangs started to get on his nerves.

When he looked up again, he saw you struggling with the printer, which seemed to have decided not to work.

“Why is it that every time I come here, this stupid, useless piece of junk decides to stop working?” you huffed, nearly shouting. “It’s like… like it’s out to get me!”

“Maybe it’s because you make too many copies every week,” Vettel replies.

“I have to give my students a quality education, Seb. And a quality education includes, among other things, making as many copies as I need to teach the contents properly!”

“And does your quality education include printing an entire colony of bees?”

You shrugged, offering no further explanation. Instead, you grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it until it was next to Sebastian. To his utter surprise, you sat down beside him, placing your absurdly thick stack of papers on top of the ungraded exams.

If you didn’t leave in the next few seconds, Seb swore he'd have a heart attack.

“My kids need all of this, Seb,” you said again, showing him those ridiculous drawings once more. “They’re learning about pollination, and what better way than by coloring little bees and then putting them all over the classroom to represent how they work?”

“I’m currently questioning whether I’m a complete failure as a teacher so, to be completely honest with you, the last thing I need right now is you showing me this... nonsense.”

You scoffed, knowing he didn’t mean it. He was just too stressed. His students failing with embarrassingly low grades didn’t mean his skills as a teacher were declining, but it did mean he’d have an army of parents breathing down his neck, demanding explanations for why their children’s performance was so poor.

“Stop saying things like that!” You smacked his shoulder, and his patience wore even thinner when he noticed a red pen mark on the exam he was grading. One that, knowing all too well his students and their thoughts, they’d probably say looked like a penis.

“You’re not a failure. Teenagers are just… idiots.”

“Is that your opinion as a professional in the education field?2

“Of course!” you shouted, waving your hands dramatically. “Why do you think I teach Primary school? Little kids are way cuter, and they think I’m a genius just because I can spell difficult words without getting any help.”

Seb tried not to, but a small smile started creeping onto his face. He quickly bit his lower lip and shifted in his seat, attempting to maintain his composure even though sitting next to you made him more nervous and, especially, more entertained, than he would have liked to admit.

“Look at you! I made you smile!”

“If I admit that you're almost funny, will you leave me alone?”

“Let me think about it… No.”

Sebastian didn’t even get a chance to answer before you suddenly jumped out of your chair and rushed toward the printer again.

“I just remembered why I came here! Oh my god, why do I have to be sooooooo forgetful?”

“I suppose that’s to make my life more miserable,” the German replied, raising an eyebrow.

“That’s just a bonus, Seb,” you turned to him, still smiling. “So, yeah, this printer isn’t working because… Well, I don’t know why. But I really need to make these copies, so I guess I’ll have to go back to the Primary school teachers' lounge…”

Sebastian stared at you, unsure of what to say.

Was he misunderstanding things because of stress, or he understood that you had actually walked all the way to the High School section, which was not anywhere near the Primary one, just to make copies, despite having a perfectly good printer in your own area?

“Did you come all the way from the Primary section to the High School one just for… some photocopies?”

“Yes!” you nodded enthusiastically.

“You're perfectly aware that there's a much better printer over there, right?”

“Well, that’s debatable if you consider…”

“Y/N, cut the bullshit.”

You pressed your lips together, unsure of how to tell him that your free period, and your desire to see him, was the real reason you had come all this way, even if it had earned you a few questioning looks and whispered comments from some of your colleagues in the upper grades.

“Well… Maybe I also decided to come here to see you,” you admitted.

Vettel had no idea how to reply to that. He tried to think of something friendly and lighthearted, but his stress seemed to take over before he could filter his words.

“I'm this close to kicking you out, Y/N.”

You only laughed, placing a dramatic hand over your chest and letting out a fake gasp. Seb loved when you acted like this, but right now, he hated it more than ever.

“Oh, please, you wouldn’t dare. I’m your favorite person out of all the people in this school.”

“Funny, because right now you happen to be exactly the opposite,” he muttered.

“You didn’t mean that. I know you didn’t.”

Seb shook his head and buried himself back in grading exams. Of course, he hadn’t meant it. No one was perfect, but somehow, you came pretty damn close without even trying.

“Stop making that weird face, or you’re going to get wrinkles ahead of time,” you teased. By now, you had sat back down beside him and were carefully cutting out flower-shaped drawings with impressive precision.

“You are insufferable, Y/N, really,” Vettel shot back as he meticulously corrected a student's answer about the causes of World War II.

“And yet, you still haven’t told me to shut up.”

Seb frowned. He wanted to do it. He should do it. But he couldn’t. You were too kind to him for him to snap at you… just like what was happening now.

He cursed himself mentally and swore that, from now on, he would grade exams at home to avoid this kind of altercation. Though, deep down, he also knew he would do it because, maybe, it would give him a little more time to spend with you.

Suddenly, you moved closer to him, too close, and took his chin. Your eyes locked, and for a few seconds, neither of you could say anything, let alone voice everything running through your minds about each other.

“You need a break, Seb.”

Your hand instinctively moved to his cheek, caressing it with a kind of affection that neither of you expected. He swallowed hard, trying to stay calm, but his heart only pounded faster and faster, and he couldn’t see it as anything other than a betrayal of his feelings for you.

“Why do you always have to be a threat to me, Y/N?”

You simply smiled before leaving a kiss on his cheek and standing up.

“You can keep pretending all you want, but you know you love it,” you said, grabbing your things and heading toward the door, though not before turning back to him.

Sebastian knew exactly what you meant by doing that. He let out a deep sigh and carefully gathered all the exams, placing them in his briefcase along with his pencil case and phone.

“If I go with you wherever you’re going, do you promise to shut up?”

“Nop, there’s no way I’m doing that,” you replied cheerfully, taking his arm the moment he was beside you and dragging him out of the teachers’ lounge with no real destination in mind.

The German was beyond exhausted. He felt his head throbbing more than usual, which he knew was a sign of an oncoming migraine. He felt drained, frustrated, and more plagued by imposter syndrome than ever. It wasn’t the first time he’d had bad results on an exam, but it was the first time they had been this awful.

He decided not to dwell on it and did his best to push his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing instead on the woman beside him.

You couldn’t stop talking. First, you told him about how your kids, as you called your second-grade students, had made Christmas cards for you and even brought you a gift after the holidays. Then, you talked about how, today, your favorite student (because, according to you, yes, teachers had favorites) had dropped a piece of her sandwich on the floor, and you had to give her your own breakfast but it was worth it since she was more than happy to be having Ms. Y/L/N handmade cheesecake.

Now, you had launched into an explanation of the biodiversity project you were preparing for your students, focusing specifically on the importance of bees in the ecosystem. You even showed him some pictures of what you had been working on at home because you wanted it to turn out so well that you couldn’t just work on it during school hours.

“So…” you said after finishing your explanation. “What do you think about my project so far?”

Sebastian kept walking, trying to process the flood of information you had just given him in such a short time. While some of the pictures looked like pure chaos, something completely opposite to him, the embodiment of perfection, he had to admit that it was good. Really good, actually.

“Well… it looked fun,” he admitted.

“Are you serious!?” you squealed, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

He gave you a shy smile.

“Yes, of course, I mean it.”

“Oh, look at him! Grumpy Seb handing out compliments so easily!” you shouted again, now bouncing on your feet, earning a few disapproving looks from the teachers passing by. “This calls for me to get you a coffee!”

“Y/N, I don’t feel like having coffee. I already had one this morning, and I don’t think it’s the best idea, considering how nervous I—”

“That’s nonsense!” you interrupted, marching toward the Primary school section. “You’re going to have coffee with me, no matter what, and you’re going to thank me because I’m convinced my coffee is way better than that vending machine garbage you drink daily.”

“I’ll thank you the day not a single one of my students fails one of my exams,” he told you.

The Primary school teachers' lounge was empty when you both walked in. You didn’t say much, just offered Seb a seat and told him to make himself at home while you headed to your locker. The German pulled out the stack of exams once again, ready to continue grading them, if you didn’t annoy him again. As he kept marking the papers, he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. Not only were you making him a cup of coffee, but you also seemed to be decorating it. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, you were writing something on a piece of paper.

When you returned, you placed the mug in front of him. It had “Bee positive” written on it, and it was decorated, of course, with a little bee making a heart with its tiny hands. As if that wasn’t enough, you had somehow managed to create an impressive amount of cream, topped with a smiley face that looked like it had been made with cinnamon.

Then, as you took a seat beside him, you slid a note his way, the one he assumed you had been writing earlier.

“Even if you’re having a gray day, remember that you can always make the sun shine! Sincerely, your very own little Miss Sunshine,” followed by a heart and, unsurprisingly, a bunch of smiley faces.

He didn’t know what to say. His eyes, however, when they met yours, seemed to say everything.

“You know, maybe all you need is just a new approach.”

Your sudden change of topic, spoken as you took another bite of your chocolate cupcake, threw him off a little. But he preferred it over the uncomfortable silence you both knew was bound to settle in.

“I’ve already tried, Y/N.”

“Have you tried bribing them?”

Seb narrowed his eyes, impressed and clearly not convinced by what you had just suggested.

“I’m not going to bribe my students, Y/N.”

“Not even by making them work in teams and offering extra credit?” You widened your eyes in surprise. “Have you considered bringing cookies and handing them out? That works incredibly great as a positive reinforcement, trust me”

“I’m not giving my students cookies or anything else,” Seb stated firmly. “I don’t know what to do with them, and that’s what worries me the most. What if I start acting like, no offense, a Primary school teacher, when they’re only two years away from university?”

You shook your head. It annoyed you that Sebastian was so… rigid, so unwilling to change. But what annoyed you even more was that you couldn’t seem to find the right way to help him.

“If you help me with the biodiversity project and actively participate in it, I promise I’ll find a way to make sure all your kids pass the remaining exams this year,” you proposed.

“And what exactly does a primary school teacher know about teenagers and History?”

“First of all, stop being so grumpy with me… I’m just trying to help you!” You huffed, crossing your arms. He wasn’t expecting that answer, and honestly, neither were you. Sebastian straightened in his seat, a bit uncomfortable. “Second, I happen to have a few tricks up my sleeve, but I’m not sharing them until you agree with helping me with the project.”

“Y/N…”

“What is it? What you don’t like: bees, seven-year-olds, or me?"

“I don’t like bees that much, I love being around little kids, and I’m completely captivated by you.”

That was what Sebastian wanted to say. Instead, he stayed silent, absentmindedly playing with the coffee spoon while staring at the note you had written for him.

“You do realize how many exams I still have to grade, right?” was all he managed to reply.

“Seb, you need to relax. I’ve told you before, but I’ll keep saying it as many times as necessary until you actually listen to me.”

“I can’t relax,” Vettel muttered, furrowing his brows. “Do you have any idea how painful it is to read that…?”

You didn’t let him time to finish speaking. You approached him faster than you’d planned, took his face in your hands, and kissed him. At first, Seb was completely caught off guard, but then he placed his right hand on your neck, pulling you closer and making sure the contact between you didn’t break.

Sebastian wondered why he hadn’t done this sooner, while you were more than happy to finally have the courage to take the initiative, especially since it seemed like your work crush was responding with a lot of enthusiasm.

The lack of air forced you to pull away. You readjusted yourself in your seat and couldn’t help but laugh when you saw your lipstick smeared all over Seb’s mouth.

“Did you just…?” Seb tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

“Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again,” you kissed him once again, but this time it was shorter. “Sebastian Vettel, I need you to stop worrying about those fucking exams and take a break.”

Now, Sebastian couldn’t stop smiling, and that’s exactly when you knew you had won that battle.

“You’re so lucky you’re too cute and beautiful and you’re keeping me at my feet somehow, because I swear I wouldn’t stop talking and be annoying just for you to shut me up by kissing me.”

Your eyes lit up at his tease, and your mouth opened in surprise at what Seb had just confessed.

“Sorry, did you just call me cute and beautiful, and also say you want me to shut you up by kissing you?” you pressed him.

Seb didn’t know what to say. His cheeks started to turn red out of embarrassment.

“If I’d known this was going to happen between us, I should’ve asked you to work together waaaay sooner!” you shouted, jumping up in excitement and sitting on his lap. If he hadn’t grabbed you tightly around the waist and balanced the chair, you would’ve ended up on the floor. “Say it again, come on!”

“No way I’m repeating that, Y/N.”

“Please, Seb,” you pouted, then kissed him all over his face. “Just one more time, please…”

“No.”

“Please…”

“Y/N…”

“Seeeeeeebastian.”

“You’re the most annoying person I’ve ever met,” Seb started, “but, somehow, you’re also my very own Little Miss Sunshine.”

You smiled brightly at his words, but you knew this wouldn’t be the end of things between you.

“I’m not your Little Miss Sunshine yet. At least, not officially,” you teased.

“Oh, really?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll be when you finally have the courage to ask me on a date,” you replied cheerfully, wrapping your hands around his neck and kissing him once more. “I’ve taken the first step and kissed you not once, but twice, so now it’s your turn. We’ve got to work as a team, Seb. Haven’t you learned that all these years working as a teacher?”

[dpspcehntr]

Love & Deepspace NSFW Headcannons Pt 3

Part One || Part Two

Paring: L&DS OT4 x Reader

Warnings: toys, fingering (f receiving), size description (if you squint), pubic hair, oral (m receiving), piercings, mutual masturbation, lingerie, bath/shower sex

A/N: Hello all! here’s some more headcanons to keep you fed while I take a little step back. The semester is getting intense so I don’t have as much time as I did. I’ll try to keep chugging away at those requests in the mean time! If you’re wondering why Caleb isn’t here, I explained it here. That’s all! Hope you enjoy and reblogs are deeply appreciated.

Zayne

The control he tries to keep is very thin and when he snaps……you better be ready

Perfect size and girth for you to need to take it easy the next day

Hair is trimmed neatly and is carefully maintained

Addicted to the way you feel on him, simply cannot get enough

Now that he no longer feels that he has to repress himself, just get ready

Xavier

Keeps a box of toys at his place for you and him to use (though he uses it on himself more)

What he doesn’t have in length he makes up for in girth, you’re more than happy to feel the stretch

Hair is trimmed neatly, though the maintenance sometimes gets away from him

Stamina is out of this world, we’re talking hours

He likes to be choked when you ride him

Rafayel

Won’t admit it, but loves when you take control

Perfect size and girth, he likes to bury it in your throat most

Completely hairless, not even stubble, you wonder how he keeps so clean

If your nipples are pierced, he finds them very hot and gets turned on when you wear the jewelry you picked (bonus points if it has chains)

Makes mutual masturbation a game, whoever cums first has to bottom

Sylus

Loves to keep you clench on his fingers and won’t fuck you until then

It’s big, both in length and girth, had to do a few sessions just for size training

Hair is neatly manicured and he even shared his grooming routine with you in detail

Loves to dress you up in lingerie and then ripping it off you (which you love too)

Often takes showers and baths with you just to make clean up easier (and sometimes he just likes pampering you after a long day)

[icjayking]

my personal experience is workplaces and classes will give me extremely minimal accommodations that are usually a compromise of what i initially said i needed, but whoever i worked out those accommodations with will either make me have to ask them if i can use the accommodation so they can determine if my reason for it is good enough, or if i'm free to decide when i need to use it they'll just stop me from using the accommodations when they see me using it because it's incontinent, usually with passive aggression and comments like "do you really think that's nessicary right now?"

Being autistic is like screaming through a megaphone “please don’t overwork me, i WILL explode” and everyone responds like haha well. You’ll get used to it over time :)

[httpknjoon]

quite an impression | myg

plot | that time where the afterparty left quite an impression on the not-so-friendly relationship between the popstar and her bassist.

w.c | 5.1k

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader

genre | enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

After the show, everyone, including the band and the show's crew members, was told that you and your management prepared an afterparty for everyone in one of the known yet private hotspots around New York City.

Everyone agreed to come, including Yoongi due to the band's persuasion. Plus, he doesn't really have anything to do back in his hotel room. The holiday EP's done. The concert tour just finished its first leg, which means their one-month holiday break basically started the moment you closed the show a while ago.

"What happened to your Valentino suit?" Fred was the first to ask when Yoongi joined the rest of the band on their ride to the afterparty venue.

Yoongi shakes his head lazily, "Don't want to ruin it at the party."

Before getting back into his usual clothes, Yoongi had to convince Paul to let him change. But your stylist was eager to make him wear it to the party tonight. He told him that there would be paparazzi there to take pictures of them arriving.

"I don't really care what I'm wearing if I ever get photographed tonight," Yoongi replied to Paul. It's not like I'm the main star, he thought.

He was so sure that the paparazzi were not interested in taking photos of them, but the moment their ride stopped in front of the private bar, Yoongi could hear the little commotion outside. There were paparazzi waiting by the sidelines with their big cameras and as soon as a car stopped, they got up to prepare to whoever is in the vehicle.

"This is crazy." Akio gasped as they all looked outside their tinted windows.

"Okay, put on your sunglasses if y'all don't want to be blind before we even get to the party." Noah, who has been a part of your team for years now, told them.

Yoongi was thankful he followed what your lead guitarist advised because the moment they got out of the car. There are flashing lights everywhere. He can hear some people calling his name, which is something he still needs to get used to. He doesn't remember getting much attention when he was at other artists' shows. Hearing various voices call his name everywhere makes him feel weird— not in a good way. They didn't stop for photos, heading straight to the private club's entrance while being guided by one of your security staff.

"I love playing for big artists," Akio whispered when they entered the venue, already eyeing the cocktails not too far from where they stood. "They know how to party."

It was obvious, the moment they got in, that the afterparty was well-prepared and expensive. Although the lights were dimmed and colorful fairy lights mainly provided lights for the place, there were customized holiday decors everywhere to celebrate your EP, which plays in the background. There are ice sculptures of your brand's logo and even a few mistletoes on entryways with your signature kiss mark placed on them.

"Yeah, YN's label is never scared to splurge money on her," Noah said, pulling out his phone to take a picture of the place.

Who will be scared anyway? You are one of the biggest pop stars in the world currently. Your songs earn hundreds of thousands of streams every day and almost everything you do gets praised by your fans and critics. Everyone, even you yourself, knows you are the top cash cow of your company at the moment, considering your recent tour and EP release. You are an investment worth investing in.

Yoongi stayed quiet while his eyes scanned the whole place. He never really cared about parties, but he could not deny that your label made an effort to make tonight's celebration impressive.

Everyone was invited, from your concert staff down to the late-night show crew members. While the band was walking through the crowd, Yoongi took a glimpse of Art, chatting with the producers of the late-night show you just hosted. Your dancers also came, already enjoying the dancefloor with other guests. There are more faces Yoongi had recognized, but there are some he still hasn't seen yet. Paul... Cal... You.

"Yoongi, over here!"

Suddenly, somebody called his name, snapping him out of his trance. Yoongi turned and immediately spotted another familiar face waving his hand across the room. It was a friendly gesture from Ben, one of the tour's sound engineers, Yoongi raised his hand, offering a small wave before walking deeper in Ben's direction. Along the way, one of the waiters offered him a drink and Yoongi got one, quickly taking a sip to hopefully give some energy to him to socialize. Nods and smiles were exchanged once Yoongi joined the small group, which included a few of your staff and a couple of writers from the late-night show. Ben was in the middle of telling the others of something.

"Yeah, the tour just ended its first leg this week. I think we'll be back touring internationally in the last week of January though. Right, Yoongi?"

Feeling a lot of eyes on him, waiting for him to say something, Yoongi's eyes widened slightly before he looked away, "Yeah, I think so."

Ben went on to talk about the work he does in your shows. Yoongi, as usual, just listened and observed the lively crowd.

"I saw you on the show earlier, you are a great guest." someone in the group spoke, making Yoongi look back to them.

A woman in a ribbed-knit, V-neck, white sweater smiled at him, offering her hand, "I'm Bea, one of the writers of The Late, Late Show."

"Yoongi, YN's bassist." he shakes her hand.

"And favorite band member?" Bea teased, referencing the question in the show earlier. They both laughed.

Yoongi smiled, shaking his head before sipping from his glass, "Not sure about that."

"Oh, trust me. Based on our team's research, you seem to be YN's favorite." the curly-haired brunette smirked.

"What research?" he asked, now curious about what she said.

"Well, you know, our team does research on our guests before writing for them. Then, we noticed how many times you two interacted on stage during shows, even your outfits aligned during her Halloween shows," she answered casually. "She always seemed to gravitate towards you."

Her tone seemed to be implying something, making Yoongi shake his head again.

"She just likes to play around on stage." he denied whatever Bea must be thinking.

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say." she sneered, hiding an obvious smile while drinking from her cocktail.

Yoongi looked at her, trying to decode her thoughts, and when she felt her stare on him, she simply smiled, "I mean, I kinda get her."

As the music gets louder and the crowd gets bigger, Yoongi finds himself chatting with Bea ever since they met half an hour ago. They occupied one of the booths in the club alone while they talked about their jobs in the entertainment industry, something they are similar to.

Bea is funny, witty, and smart, Yoongi thought. He likes that she doesn't force him to speak in their conversation. He didn't really mind her telling him about her experiences as someone who moved here to New York eight months ago. It's better than being forced to jive on the dancefloor, something he's not really fond of.

"Yeah, I was actually scared to come here tonight." Bea shared, chuckling.

"And why is that?" Yoongi asked, slightly leaning closer to hear her over the loud music.

"I heard that staff members from other shows have to pay for their own drinks at after-parties like these, and I just can't do that right now. I have rent to pay!" she exclaimed, making both her and Yoongi laugh. She then rested her chin on her palm on the table, "How about you? Do you enjoy these parties?"

"Not really..." he was quick to answer, not bothering to conceal his dislike for social events. "Everything's too much at parties. The drinks, the people— even the music, it's too loud."

That's another thing he and his ex used to be contrasted about. Sara will always be at parties back in LA because of her job. It's a place for widening her networking in her perspective. Sometimes it is necessary for her to attend, sometimes she just wants to. Yoongi, on the other hand, is not a fan of networking. As long as someone is interested in collaborating with him, he's gonna be fine. But he cannot deny that Sara helped him get more people to work with him whenever she pulled him along with her at parties. She literally introduced him to Art years ago.

Bea chuckled, "Isn't it ironic that you're literally a bass guitarist and you hate loud music?"

"There's a difference between music and what's basically a noise." he joked.

Just when Yoongi took another sip of his drink, there was a sudden change of energy in the room. The music lowered slightly, and the whispers and turning of heads at the main entrance got more noticeable.

"Looks like the woman of the hour has arrived." Bea mused next to him.

Everyone can hear the main door opening, along with the sound of cameras clicking and people calling your name. Then, it was followed by familiar voices laughing and chattering. Yoongi didn't bother to turn around to the doorway until Bea murmured.

"Oh, they arrived together."

He finally glanced at the doorway, catching sight of you at the center. You were glowing with your gold closed-fitting, thin-strapped mini-dress. He wondered if you got cold outside while wearing that glamorous dress, but then he saw Cal next to you, holding a fur that he assumed was yours.

Then, he also noticed who was standing on your left. Harry was holding your waist as you greeted the first people who approached you. You two were a pleasant eyesight, a perfect eyesight for everyone. It was obvious how you two were comfortable with each other. Harry leaned closer to you to whisper something, and you would easily laugh like he was the funniest person in the world. Yoongi looked away, back at minding his business.

"They used to date, didn't they?" Bea whispered next to him.

Yoongi shrugged, "I don't really know."

"You should. You were Harry's bassist during his first album, right? I heard he wrote songs about her in there." she went on.

He raised an eyebrow, "You really did your research, huh?"

"Told ya." she clicked her tongue before looking back to you and Harry. "They still look cute together, don't they?"

"Yeah," Yoongi mindlessly replied even though he was not looking anymore.

He took another scan of the whole room. He stops when he sees you looking at him while everyone in the circle you're in is having conversations. Your eyes traveled from him to the woman next to him. Your eyebrows raised and you looked back at him again. Just when lines form between his brows, Yoongi sees you joining your group's conversation once again. It was a brief and quiet interaction— confusing for Yoongi— that seemed to be only known by you two.

"That was... interesting." Bea, the best observer, smirked into her drink.

The night went on with you and Yoongi being on separate sides of the room. Yoongi introduced Bea to the band, joining them in their booth. He ignored Fred's teasing stare ever since his new writer-friend sat with them. Noah also has his boyfriend with him, adding more fun to their conversations. At some point, Yoongi excused himself from the booth, getting up next to Bea.

"Oh, where are you going?" she asked with her hand on his arm.

"I'll get another drink, want some?" He answered, nodding at her empty glass.

She smiled, "Yeah, sure."

"Don't try to escape the party!" Noah teased him as Yoongi walked away, rolling his eyes at his friend.

He was about to walk to the bar, but decided to stop midway, heading to the restroom first. After doing his business and enjoying the quick solitude, Yoongi rinsed his hand and walked out to the dimly lit entryway. He was not paying much attention to his surroundings, just aiming to get to the brighter entryway to the party, causing him to bump into someone.

"Oh."

It was a light collision, but you were wearing your strappy God-knows-how-high heels, causing you to lose balance a little. He was quick to catch you and help you steady yourself.

"Sorry, didn't see you there," he mumbled.

"Clearly," you looked up with a snarky reply and the same smile you always give him. "Enjoying the night?"

Was it a little unexpected question from you? Yes. But maybe you've been asking everyone that since you are the host of the party. Yoongi wouldn't want to overthink it.

"Yeah, it was fun." he replied like he didn't spend his time talking to people he only knows except for Bea.

You hummed, "Bea seems nice though."

He paused, staring at you for a second, "You know her?"

Shrugging, you replied, "Met her during preparations for the show earlier. She seemed pretty smart and witty."

Were you watching them? Yoongi starts to wonder since he sees you vibing with Harry and your other guests whenever he catches glances at you in the crowd. He cannot tell by your tone if you are just being friendly, casual, or just teasing. But the way you were looking at him got his throat running dry, making him gulp hard.

Before he could figure out what to say next, a voice piped up from one of the small circles near the entryway.

"Oh my gosh, look up!"

Your eyes widened. Yoongi frowned. Right above you, it's one of the few mistletoes in the place. The small circle cheered, getting more attention to their direction.

One of your dancers urged, "You have to kiss now!"

"Ugh, seriously? Do we really have to do this?" you tried to play it off, acting dramatically.

But Yoongi can feel the tension growing in the small space between you, making everything more awkward. All while your concert staff enjoy how you are both caught off guard, knowing your childish and petty relationship behind the scenes.

"It's a tradition!" someone sing-songed.

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck, "But it's just a plant."

"It is!" you laughing awkwardly.

It felt like high school— or even middle school. Like they were stuck in a game of truth or dare. The cheers for them got louder and clearer. Yoongi only looks at you, trying to read your thoughts. But you were exchanging jokes with the small audience.

“Wow, you guys are really committed to this tradition, huh?” you let out a breathy laugh.

In all honesty, Yoongi would not mind kissing you. Will it be awkward? Yeah, probably. But you both know that the easiest way to end this scenario is to just get over it. A quick kiss, then move on! It's not like everyone will make a big deal out of it.

But why? Why is it so hard?

You took in a slow inhale as you looked at your bassist standing in front of you. How can he still have the same blank expression on his face while you were shitting bricks, trying not to make the atmosphere awkward? You swallowed. Hard. You wondered where's the liquid courage when you need it. Kissing is never a problem with you. Hell, you were the one who suggested putting mistletoes everywhere tonight, unprepared that you are your own victim.

Yoongi's lips parted when you took a step closer to him. So close that he can smell the same sweet vanilla scent he sensed when you gave him a quick hug earlier after the show. He cannot help but study your features as you stand this close to him.

"Let's just do it?" your glossy lips whispered.

"Okay." He replied, almost breathless.

When he unexpectedly yet gently held your waist, you unconsciously held your breath like his soft touch burns your skin. You can still feel the tightness in your chest when his lips brushed against yours, like a feather. It would have been meaningless if one pulled away as soon as your lips touched. But for a half second, no one moved. You felt like leaning it when you felt his slight squeeze on your waist. But before anything could happen, it was over.

Brief and light.

Everyone cheered as you went along in this stupid holiday tradition. Yet the noise was all drawn out in the background as you and Yoongi slowly pulled away from each other.

In that quick second, you swore you felt his warm breath as he pulled away. You blinked, but still, stared back at him. Your heart was beating too fast, you didn't like it.

Yoongi didn't like that when he pulled away, he could not think of anything to say. It was like his brain into a factory reset, resetting everything he knew. He remembered you singing this close to him during one of your shows, thinking you looked like an angel. He still thinks the same thing.

After getting your souls back on the ground, Yoongi let go of your waist and you took a step back. Everyone is still having their reaction. Someone even whistled, making you turn back to the crowd. You forced a laugh.

"Satisfied?" you played it off with the crowd.

Yoongi's jaw clenched as he turned around leaving the entryway, ignoring the warmth that was still lingering on his lips. The image of your face close to his cannot get out of his head. He walked straight to the bar to get another drink.

You, on the other hand, ran back to the restroom. Looking back on yourself in the mirror, your fingers slowly touched your lips as you felt like they had been tingling ever since Yoongi pulled away. Realization sets in as your bite your lower lip.

Fuck, you wanted more.

For the rest of the night, you and Yoongi got some unspoken agreement to not stand within a six-foot distance between them. Yoongi found more comfort, sitting next to Bea, who raised a brow, when he came back to their booth after the kiss. He simply shook his head with that. She took it that he didn't want to talk about it.

"So are you guys playing tonight?" she asked him.

"I don't know, really," Yoongi replied, resting his arm behind her seat.

"I mean, it would be really cool to see you play at this party." she drew circles on the rim of her cocktail's glass before playfully tilting her head to him. "You know, just throwing the idea out there... Only if there are instruments laying around at this par— Oh, wait. There it is!"

Yoongi laughed at her feigned yet coy innocence as she tried to convince them to play. He scanned the room, looking for the instruments Bea was referring to. Instead, he catches you looking at him before quickly turning your back. Something in his stomach flipped before he finally found what he was looking for.

"You alright, angel?"

As soon as you turned your back to your bassist, Harry, who had his hand on the small of your back, asked. You looked up, putting on a smile before nodding. Ever since he said about your nose flaring when you lie, you try to be careful about not saying the truth around him. He smiled, pinching your nose.

"Looks like that kiss did something to you." he leaned into your ear as he teased you.

You moved away, glaring at him, "It's just a mistletoe kiss. Nothing too special about it, H."

"Okay, okay, if you insist." he chuckled.

You rolled your eyes, "I feel like you're trying to push an agenda here and I am just gonna ignore that."

Feeling your face warming up, you walked away to distract yourself with something else. It's nothing! You repeated in your head as if to remind yourself. Yoongi seemed to thought the same thing since you saw him getting comfortable with the same girl he's been talking to ever since you arrived.

There is a tightness in your chest. You had to stop one of the waiters who was going around with shots of espresso martini. You took one and immediately let it slid down your throat before returning the glass to the same guy.

Out of the blue, you hear a familiar beat of the drum playing along your song that was playing in the background. The small crowd in the dancefloor started cheering. Turning around, you see your live band on the small stage back in their element. The lights were dim, but you can see your bassist pushing his hair back, which somehow made your throat dry.

"I think we need a vocalist." Noah spoke on the mic.

Your eyes widened, you know he sees you with your shimmering gold dress. And the spotlight that landed on you didn't help for you to hide in the corner of the room. Shaking your hands to your sides, you exhaled before walking up to the stage. The last thing you want now is to stand next to your bassist, especially when you're confused and having a meltdown in your head. But your forever motto plays in your head, fake it 'til you make it.

The band continue playing along with the song that was already playing in the background. You took a sip from a bottle of water Cal handed you before catching up on the song. Shaking it off, you put on your usual popstar persona. The one who's confident, spontaneous, and maybe a little annoying to your bassist.

An idea pops in your head, making you signal to the band to repeat the song from the start. They followed, same with the DJ who turned down the music. Noah began counting and Yoongi almost crashed out in his head when he felt you standing close to him.

Unexpectedly, you lifted his chin, making him look at you. You silently hoped he is under the same spell as you are, not knowing that your touch burns his skin. Looking straight to his eyes, you sung,

"Oh, I leave quite an impression..."

The moment you saw a hint of something familiar in his gaze, you tried to bit off a victory smirk, letting go of him and turning to the crowd. A spur of energy grew quickly in you, knowing that you're not the only one struggling here.

The crowd sings along throughout the whole song. Yoongi was quite relieved that you didn't try to pull something on him again. He knew you got him earlier in the song, hence why you are suddenly more confident now, dancing on stage. Your hips swayed along with the beats and he finds himself almost getting out of tune, distracted. He played it off, adding a cool riff in your song, which made you turn to him.

"Show off." you scoffed in the mic, making the crowd laugh.

"Every time you close your eyes, And feel his lips, you're feelin' mine..."

That gave you another reason to annoy him. Yoongi felt you resting on his sides like he was a wall. You slowly slid down as you sang the bridge before getting up to let the crown scream the line,

"Yeah, I know I've been known to share!"

Yoongi tried to stay as far as possible from you after that performance. Harry sang too after you called him on stage, which didn't really distract Yoongi as they played the song your ex wrote about you. Only Angel. What a fitting title? He thought.

After that, they played a couple more songs before getting back to their booth. He was so ready to get back to the hotel, but he didn't to leave Bea alone, who he enjoyed talking with tonight. She just finished her fourth glass of the night when she noticed the time on her watch.

"Oh, it's almost midnight." She murmured as the corners of her lips dropped.

"And? Are you Cinderella?" Yoongi quipped.

Her eyes narrowed behind her glasses, "Well, yeah. Fairy Godmother will take away this thick ribbed-knit sweater once I don't show up in Central Park on time."

They laughed. She continued, "I have a flight to catch tomorrow morning. Need to be home before Christmas."

Bea began saying goodbye to everyone. Yoongi said he'll go back to the hotel too, and got a knowing look from his bandmates. He rolled his eyes, lifting his middle finger at them, which made them laugh. The party is dying down anyway. Yoongi saw you saying goodbye to Harry before he left after he performed on stage. Then, he didn't catch sight of you again.

"How about you? Going back to LA for the holidays?" Bea asked as they walked out of the private lounge.

Yoongi clicked his tongue, "I don't know. I have no plans yet."

They stopped on the pavement. The paparazzi are long gone, it's just them and the distant noise of the city.

"Maybe you can come to Seattle with me? Want to meet my parents?" she joked. "But seriously, I enjoyed talking with you, Yoongi."

He smiled, feeling a warmth on his chest, "Me too, Bea."

As if on cue, a yellow cab stopped in front of them. Bea looked at him before getting on her tiptoes to give his cheek a soft peck.

"Contact me. Let's see each other again once we're in the same place again. Okay?" she smiled, hopeful.

He nods at her with a small smile before she gets in the cab, waving at her before the car drives away. For a few seconds, Yoongi stood there alone. He looked down, remembering the last time he went on a date. As an image of Sara came up in his mind, he shook it off while walking away.

Yoongi did not mind walking from the party to the hotel. It was a twenty-minute stroll. He needed it with so many thoughts in his head to organize. His dating game, the mistletoe, Bea, your gold mini-dress that exposed your back, his plans for Christmas, your face when you pulled away, his house back in LA... the kiss.

What the fuck.

He paused just right before the hotel everyone in your staff is staying at. You kept on reeling back in his head, he did not even notice it. Suddenly, he's recalling your scent and the softness of your lips on his. It lingers. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. Then, he remembered your own fingers running through his jet-black hair when he was asked to show up during your Bed Chem performance. Your gaze under the red lights. His Adam's apple bobbed as he thought about it.

As he walked into the hotel elevator, Yoongi thought of hopping into a quick shower before sleeping tonight. Maybe it will clear up some of his thoughts. Just when the door began closing, he heard a scream from a distance.

"Please hold it!"

Yoongi, although distracted, followed. He held out his hand between the doors, slowly opening it up again. That's when you showed up, chest heaving, still wearing the same dress Yoongi was thinking about. He squeezed his eyes closed as he turned his head down. The amount of curses he let out in his head.

"Thank you." you tried to say it softly, but you were breathless from running. You push the button to your floor and you notice that he still hasn't clicked his. "What floor?"

"Hmm?"

You turn around and catch him staring at you in a way you've never seen before. You felt your stomach twist. Your eyes moved down to his lips. He was biting too hard, turning the skin red. You watched as he inhaled, lifting his shoulders like he was trying to stay still.

"Same as yours. Twenty-nine," he mumbled.

His voice was too deep, your voice ran dry. You nodded, standing back next to him. Silence hummed for the first few seconds as the door closed. You didn't know that this tension joined you two in this elevator, making the atmosphere heavy and honestly, a little warm. You felt it again. Your lips. They're tingling again.

You can feel that he feels the same way. Your heart starts to beat too fast when you look at him again, still biting down his lip. Hard. Maybe talking would help.

"So, what happened—"

You were not even done with your question about Bea when Yoongi moved forward, crashing his lips on yours. It felt urgent. And hot. Like he was thinking about it for a while now. It was like you broke him.

Your gasp barely made it out of your lips when he swallowed it. He got his one hand on your cheek, while the other was squeezing your waist. His fingers held you down as you squirmed too much.

You don't really have much thought except him. His scent. His lips. His hair. Oh my god, his hair. You ran your fingers on it, tugging on it as you felt the temperature rising in your body. He groaned before pressing you on the elevator wall. You tilted your head, deepening the kiss, while your hands explored each others' bodies. Desperation and hunger reeks from the way you two taste each other's tongues.

Wanting to hear him again, you bit on his lower lip. He groaned lowly, feeling the vibration in your chest. You smiled into the kiss. Suddenly, you felt both of his hands on your waist. You instinctively wrapped your arms around his neck, feeling the kiss getting gentler.

Your chests were heaving as he pulled away, resting his forehead above yours. You unconsciously licked your lips after seeing how his got redder and glossier due to your own. You noticed his Adam's apple moved up and down, making you meet his eyes.

Ding!

Your heads snapped to the side when the elevator door opened. Yoongi's hands clenched when you slowly stepped back, exiting the elevator wordlessly. He followed behind you while still tasting the strawberry taste of your lipgloss.

Your rooms were right before each other's. Turning your back, you didn't say anything as you opened the door. He didn't either and faced his door, but didn't reached for the key card. The moment he heard your door closed, he turned around.

Fuck it.

Determined, he knocked on your wooden door. And almost in an instant, it opened with you pulling him inside.

note | thank u for @momma1 for commenting this song months ago! 🩷 please consider as the conclusion for the first leg of this tour. the next drabbles will be set after their "tour break". lmk what u think of this one?

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[sonotpattismith]

Your new Sukuna fic has me thinking gym crush Sukuna, where reader signs up for a gym membership and ends up going a few weeks to work out, but staying just to see Sukuna work out all the time because awkwardness.

Sukuna assumes she’s being judgmental about his tattoos and what not and confronts her like

“You got a staring problem?”

And poor reader is all flustered and he catches on and he acts all aloof but internally he’s shocked because he’d never had a girl be interested in him (idk maybe his twin brother always outshined him lolz)

And he asks her out and she agrees and they’re just all awkward together because this giant tattooed menacing man is sitting in this tiny café with this shy lady who’s face is bright red.

down bad

pairing: gym crush!sukuna x shy!reader word count: 2.7k content: fluff, mutual pining, second-hand embarrassment if you squint, sukuna being a grumpy cutie patootie, matchmaker!jin a/n: I've never written in this format before but was TWEAKING to give this scrumptious ask something, so sorry if the pacing or anything is a little awkward :') TY FOR THE ASK ANON MUAH MUAH MUAH

gym crush! sukuna who has spent nearly every evening in the gym since he was a teenager and his twin brother told him he seriously needed to start letting off some steam on something that wasn't his patronizing classmate's face. The brooding giant would never admit to it, always claiming that the dude looked at him funny, but damn it, he was the only one allowed to make fun of the coke-bottle-lenses on Jin's new glasses.

gym crush! sukuna who found himself enjoying that little outlet of his more than he cared to admit, and had now been keeping his strict, protein-dense diet and meticulous weight-training routine up for damn near ten years now. Alongside the inches that he had sprouted up in high school, his ever-growing muscles certainly helped keep assholes away from both him and his brother.

gym crush! sukuna who's diligent and consistent efforts were clearly paying off, and you would be the first to attest to that.

gym crush! sukuna who was oblivious to the fact that he had very quickly become a strong part of your motivation to keep coming to the gym a few times a week, knowing you'd be rewarded by the sight of his glistening biceps and fiercely determined, tatted-up face as he lifted what looked to be astronomically large weights with an effortlessness that made you wonder how easy it would be for him to lift you over those bulging shoulders of his.

gym crush! sukuna who you deemed far too intimidatingly handsome to approach— not that you'd be able to summon the courage up anyway. After all, the very slim extent of your ‘flirting’ history was simply… staring and hoping whoever it was caught on eventually— not that the success rate was very high considering that unfortunately, men hadn’t yet developed a knack for mind reading just yet.

gym crush! sukuna who was currently too busy lifting a way-too-heavy barbell off of his brother's chest who insisted he could handle his twin's alarming bench-presses, to notice the far-off look in your dreamy gaze as you watched him from your spot at the leg press. Jin used to come more often with his brother when they were younger in order to keep him motivated, but his availability had become scarce since becoming a father.

gym crush! sukuna who doesn't bat an eye when his twin smiled knowingly through his pants of effort as he heaved himself off the bench and leaned in to let his larger counterpart know that he had an admirer.

gym crush! sukuna who didn't need to look over his shoulder to know that Jin was referring to you, the pretty girl that had been coming in for the past few weeks and couldn't seem to maintain a poker face for the life of you. Sure, Sukuna had grown used to the shocked stares of initial onlookers when faced with his mysterious tattoos and bulking muscles, but you had taken it to a new level.

gym crush! sukuna who kissed his teeth in irritation at the sudden reminder of your unabashed judgement, shaking his head dismissively at Jin and reminding him that, "Yeah, dumbass, everyone stares."

gym crush! sukuna who had his twin about ready to rip his hair out from the roots, because how could someone so innately astute be so hopelessly blind to the metaphorical hearts swirling in your eyes as you watched the ripples in his back flex from under his compression shirt while he maneuvered the weights back to their respective shelves.

gym crush! sukuna who seeks to get his meddling brother off of his back, only trying to prove his own point when he huffs at the man and whips his head around to face you for the first time since he'd noticed your wandering eyes.

You were far too lost in your absentminded daydreaming, thinking about a version of yourself where you'd stop being such a wuss and talk to him— maybe ask him how to use a machine that you'd feign ignorance over, or to tell him that you thought his uniquely intricate tattoos did wonders to emphasize his already prepossessing bone structure.

The theatrics of your mind ran rampant, lighting each of your senses ablaze with thoughts of the way his heated skin would brush against yours, or how you'd get a chance to feel all the fruits of his strenuous labor if he'd press against your back with those statuesque, washboard abs— and, oh my god, is he walking up to you?

gym crush! sukuna who didn't give a fuck that Jin was hot on his heels, begging him not to act on whatever brash impulse that ever-present devil on his shoulder was whispering into his ear. The smaller man watched in utter horror, though seemingly unable to turn away, as his brother bared his teeth before thinking first, as was so tragically typical of him, wiping the glittering hope from your eyes as he snapped.

"You got a fucking staring problem or what?"

gym crush! sukuna who would never admit that perhaps his twin was right, the grueling realization dousing him like a bucket of ice water and draining all the blood from his face as he watched your expression fall in what he thought he was crazy for thinking was disappointment.

It was as if it was happening in slow motion, your legs gradually lowering from the machine as your mouth opened and shut in a frantic attempt to explain yourself to the stranger you'd been fawning over for weeks now. The deep crimson that began rapidly staining your cheeks surely matched the stunning shade of red that, you were now noticing from up close for the first time, swirled in his irises.

gym crush! sukuna who should have apologized, but it was too late now as you muttered out a meek apology, far too mortified to look him in the eyes again.

"N-No, I just..." Your face grew impossibly brighter, nearly blinding the now flustered man who wasn't sure how to piece back together what his quick temper had shattered. Stumbling up from your seat on the machine, you quickly squatted down to collect the water bottle you had placed on the ground. "I'm sorry."

gym crush! sukuna who suddenly felt like the big, bad wolf in every children's tale who just bared his villainously sharp teeth at the unsuspecting, bright-eyed heroine as he watched you make a beeline toward the women's locker room. His bulking arms hung limply at his sides as he blinked owlishly at your frantic escape.

"I'm not gonna say I told you so only because I don't know how much pre-workout you had before this—"

gym crush! sukuna who shoved his balled up fist into the center of his brother's chest, not hard enough to deal any real damage, but certainly hard enough to shut him the fuck up— because how the fuck was he supposed to guess that someone like you was showing any sort of real interest in him?

After all, Jin was always the one who garnered all the positive attention— what with his bright personality and nerdish charm that seemed to make all the girls at school growing up simply melt at his feet. Even now, married and officially off the dating market, his twin was always the one who got the lingering glances and giggling compliments.

All Sukuna was used to receiving were the hushed whispers of judgement and feared sidelong glances whenever he walked into a room. Women showing interest in him were few and far between, especially not delicately pretty and sickeningly sweet ones like you.

gym crush! sukuna who's guilt was swallowing him up a bit more everyday that he came to the gym only to notice your glaring absence growing more and more gut-wrenching as the days continued to blur by.

The brash nature that had protected him from disappointment for so long was now instead the root of his disappointment for once, and for the first time he was beginning to doubt himself.

gym crush! sukuna who nearly drops an unforgiving amount of weight onto his toes when he catches a glimpse of your pretty, pink workout set in his peripheral after nearly two whole weeks of your absence.

It had been an intense internal battle of whether or not you should come back or not. On one hand, the crushing mortification of having to face this man again after getting called out for your stalker like gawking was palpable and suffocating.

On a more practical note though, you had already caved and paid for the year membership to this gym that had definitely put a sizable dent in your bank account, and no amount of cringe-worthy wallowing in your own self-pity was going to excuse the amount of money you were wasting each day you didn't show.

So, when you saw that familiar head of pink hair, you immediately booked your sorry-ass to the opposite side of the gym, your heart racing far faster than you could blame on the fifteen minute cardio workout you had just completed.

gym crush! sukuna who was willing himself to come up with any opportunity to gravitate toward the area of the gym you were currently taking up, but couldn't for the life of him think of what he would say should he face you again, because sorry sure as hell wasn't in his vocabulary.

His eyes would catch yours from across the room, but you'd always make quick work to avert your gaze, that burning flush that would rush to your cheeks reminding him of his atrocious behavior each time.

gym crush! sukuna who finally spots his chance when he sees your sweet face scrunched in panicked frustration as your fingertips struggled to reach the stop bar on the leg press you were currently using. It was clear through the tremble in your thighs that your sore muscles were about to give out on you if you couldn't get this damned torture device to let up in the next ten seconds.

gym crush! sukuna who springs into action, dropping the barbell he had been hoisting over his shoulders and not giving a fuck about the alarmingly loud clang that rang through the otherwise quiet gym as it hit the floor unforgivingly.

Surely an employee would be coming by at any second to apprehend him for the improper handling of the equipment, but right now he dared anyone to try to stop him— because he could already see another sorry ass man stopping what he was doing to come help you, and Sukuna would be damned if that twig stole his moment.

Practically shouldering the audacious man out of the way, he smacked a firm hand on the press you were currently struggling to hold up on your exhausted legs, lifting the weight from your feet while slipping his foot under the stop to lock it safely back into place.

gym crush! sukuna who watched with bated breath as you finally processed who had come to your rescue, glancing frantically between him and his outstretched hand in apprehension.

"Thank you." You muttered bashfully, finally placing your comparably smaller hand into his monstrous palm so he could steady you as you stood from the machine on doe-like, trembling legs. The protective hand he placed at the center of your back for support certainly did nothing for your racing nerves.

He only clicked his tongue in response, peering off to the side as though irritated that he had to come help you. Deep down though, the pink-haired man knew that if he looked at you right now that his face would soon match your blush stricken one.

"How 'bout adjusting the damn machine before you get onto it?"

gym crush! sukuna who realized he once again spoke out of line, cursing himself under his breath as he watched you cast your eyes down to your shoes, a flustered apology spilling from your anxiously bitten lips.

"Sorry, I-I'm kind of new to this stuff, so I don't really know how all of the machines—"

"Quit fucking apologizing, will ya'?"

gym crush! sukuna who demands asks you to get coffee with him one of these days— so he could teach you about proper gym safety, of course.

gym crush! sukuna who, despite having caught on to the reason for your blubbering bashfulness, is still somehow stunned out of his goddamn mind when your pretty pink lips part up at him in shock before a timid grin takes over your once sullen features.

He gulps down the nervous lump in his throat when you nod enthusiastically at him in agreement, because holy shit, he wasn't sure anyone had ever looked at him with so much sunshine behind their eyes before— and definitely not someone as out of his league as he deemed you to be.

Still, his face remained calculatedly neutral as he shoved his phone into your delicate hands to input your number into, all the while he knew he was about to have run laps around the fucking building to rid himself of all this newfound adrenaline your presence was pumping into his system.

gym crush! sukuna who looked so painfully out of place in the cafe you had suggested to him, having shown up nearly half-an-hour early and looming outside the building with all the subtly a six-foot-five beast could possibly muster when standing beside such a frilly looking establishment.

gym crush! sukuna who brushes off your unnecessary apology when you saw him waiting outside for you, lying about the fact that he'd only just gotten there a minute ago.

He doesn't miss the way you flush as he opens the door for you and leads you to the counter with a guiding hand at the small of your back in a manner that came off as so instinctual to him.

You couldn't help it though, because you'd never seen him outside of his typical gym attire, and the flowy button down he had on over his form-fitted tank top was rolled up to his elbows and emphasizing each protruding vein in his meaty arm as he pointed at various menu items in question because lord knows he had no clue what the fuck a lavender-rose oat milk shaken espresso was.

gym crush! sukuna who pointedly ignored the strange look the two of you received from the barista as she took your order, as well as the glare he got from the grandma who's table his imposing figure accidentally bumped into as he slid into his own seat across from you, along with the various blink if you need help type cautionary gazes that were being thrown your way.

You weren't paying them any mind either though, not caring about how strange you looked in your sweet little sundress, sipping on your bright, matcha latte as you beamed at the nefarious looking giant across from you— because both of you were stumbling over your words and flushing as though right back in middle school, and neither of you were quite sure what you'd done to land yourself in this position.

gym crush! sukuna who you were quickly realizing, was not very good at asking for things as he ordered you to begin working out with him instead— y'know, so you didn't risk hurting yourself on one of the machines again totally not because he'd noticed the way other men in the gym had a tendency of letting their eyes wander on you while you were too busy looking at him to notice.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who had always rolled his eyes at the people posing for pictures in the gym mirror, now donning a proud smirk of his own as he snapped a picture of his reflection, theatrically flexing his biceps as you stood in front of him, a good head and shoulders shorter as you mimicked his pose with an adorably determined expression.

gym boyfriend partner! sukuna who could only roll his eyes when Jin was the first to comment on his post: told you so.

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[finelinevogue]

i’m right here

summary - you’re constantly worried about Aaron after a dreadful attack

pairing - aaron hotchner x pregnant!reader

word count - ~1k

You were a little bit emotional to say the least.

If you were to perfectly describe it; You felt a wreck. You were sad and insecure, but you were also hopeful and happy. You were anxious and upset, but you were also relaxed and safe. You were worried and scared, but you were also comfortable and okay.

Feelings were already a lot to deal with, but add in a pregnancy and your emotional baggage will become ten times worse.

Like now, for example.

You felt so warm and safe in bed with your husband, but you were also so damn anxious and sad.

You stared at the wall as you slept on your side, tiny tears dripping from the corners of your eyes.

The room was warm and the bed was comfortable. Aaron was tucked in safely on the other side of the bed. You had started the night with Aaron right behind you, cuddling you like he always does, but he ha drifted away in the night and you really missed him.

He was 20 centimetres away and you missed him.

You looked at the picture on your nightstand. It was a picture of Aaron and Jack, framed in a batman themed frame because that’s what Jack had picked out.

It was taken only weeks before Aaron had been stabbed 9 times, alone, in his apartment, around the early stages of your relationship with him.

2 years on and the incident still scares you.

You blew out a short breath, blinking back the tears, when you felt Aaron’s hand come around your waist. His body slid right back up against yours and his chin rested on your shoulder, but not before leaving a kiss there.

“I’m right here.” He whispered, making your tears spill even more.

Your hand came to rest upon his hand that was on your stomach, stroking calming lines across your swollen belly.

You couldn’t find the words to reply.

“You know, I was just dreaming about you.”

You swallowed back the tears with a smile, rolling your eyes at his silliness. Whatever he was doing was working though.

“Pretty sure I dreamt you were a pirate or something.”

You chuckled at that, thinking that he was going to make up some really lovely dream story but remind you there was nothing better than having the real version of you right there in his arms. Instead he was honest about how he was still dreaming about you as a pirate and had been ever since you dressed as a pirate for halloween.

“You, like always, were on my mind,” Aaron kissed your shoulder again, “But what’s on yours?”

You shook your head, “Nothing good.”

Aaron’s other arm snook underneath your body so he could help carefully turn you around in his hold.

His heart broke a little when he saw how teary and puffy your eyes were. You had clearly been upset for a while but hadn’t wanted to bother him.

“Y/N…” He whispered, cupping a hand on your cheek and wiping your tears. “Talk to me.”

His brows furrowed like he was angry at whatever, or whoever, had made you sad. He had felt ridiculously overprotective ever since he had found out you were pregnant and seeing you cry was the worse sin there was.

“You’re here.” You said softly.

Aaron nodded carefully.

Your hand slowly moved underneath his pyjama t-shirt and traced over the jagged edges of his scars. You knew exactly where each of them were on his chest and you move efficiently between them to count them all again.

Aaron let you do what you needed to do.

After the events of that fateful need 2 years ago, you and Aaron had gone to therapy together to talk through it all. Aaron had found out there that you needed to touch the scars from time-to-time to make sure that they were all sealed and healed. You needed a physical reminder that he was okay now.

If anyone else touched him the way you were then he would feel so uncomfortable and exposed. With you, he felt safe and grounded.

“You need to try and sleep. Get some rest, before trouble comes.” Aaron suggested.

“I c-can’t.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“In case he comes back. I need to keep you safe.” You said.

“Y/N.” Aaron’s frown softened, finally understanding the reason for your upset.

You were so worried about something bad happening again that it was keeping you up. Aaron needed as much rest as possible with such a stressful job, so you decided you’d take charge of night-watch.

“I need to. I can’t…. I…” You were getting yourself worked up again.

“Look at me.” Aaron’s voice forced you to look his way, “I am right here. Jack is next door. We’re all here and we’re all safe, that much I can promise you.”

“But…” You hiccuped.

Aaron shook his head, “We’re okay. We got the bad guy, we always do.”

“I just.. I keep thinking how alone you must’ve felt…” You cried, “A-and I was out at a-a bar.”

Aaron smiled at you.

“I wasn’t alone.” Aaron picked up your hand gently and rested it over his heart, “You were right here. So was Jack. You both got me through it - all of it.”

You gave out another cry and Aaron knew then that you would be okay, you just needed to understand that he was here now and he was okay.

He brought you closer to him, tucking your head beneath his chin and holding you close against him. He made sure there was room for your bump between you both and cradled you tight.

“I’m right here. I’m safe.” Aaron repeated mindless phrases to you to remind you of the present.

He was okay. You and Jack were okay. You’d all be okay in the end.

[mvctavish]

𝐓𝐅 𝟏𝟒𝟏 - 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐓

summary: headcanons for each members' reaction to you telling them you're pregnant

cw: afab!reader, pregnancy (duh), mentions of pregnancy symptoms (like nausea, vomiting) but nothing graphic, slight angst for some parts, established relationship, mentions of sex (?)

capt. john price

౿ ۪ ݁ honestly? price couldn't be happier. he always thought of himself as a family man, seeing himself as a father of (hopefully) many kids. he's overjoyed as you greet him when he gets home from a long and grueling deployment, wanting nothing more than to relax in your arms and go to sleep in his own bed. however, when you say the words "i'm pregnant" and showcase the sonogram, his heart nearly triples in size. that's his baby. you're carrying his baby, and he swears this is the best moment of his entire life. he whispers praises in your ear as he holds you tight, a large and heavy hand gently resting on your abdomen, thumb stroking your skin the fabric of your - his - shirt. he's truly never been happier. you, his darling girl, is harboring a precious life that blossomed from your love for each other. you just know he's going to be the best father your kid could hope for.

sgt. kyle "gaz" garrick

౿ ۪ ݁ kyle doesn't know what to say at first. he was the one that convinced you to take a pregnancy test in the first place - you'd been nauseous and fatigued for the past few days, and he noticed. he noticed each and every thing about you, from your slightly irritable mood to the tiny changes of your body. he never expected the test to come back positive, the two little lines on the stick staring up at the both of you. he's scared, just as scared as you, but he knows he needs to stay strong, at least for now. "it's gonna be alright, angel," he'd reassure you, taking your form into an embrace. he's oh so gentle, handling you like porcelain now that he knows his baby is growing in your womb. "we'll get through this together, ya hear, love?" he kisses your forehead. whatever you decide to do, he's there for you. despite his initial fears, the thought of having a baby with you excites him. you best bet that if you aren't married already, you'll have a ring on your finger by the end of the week.

sgt. john "soap" mactavish

౿ ۪ ݁ johnny has never felt so unprepared in his life. he's always so, so careful with you, hoping to avoid situations like... this. it's not that he's upset, no, he isn't angry. just unprepared. he doesn't feel fit to be a father, not yet. it's a lot of responsibility and an entire lifetime of commitment - and johnny doesn't want to let down his future child. though, the more he thinks about it, the more he begins to warm up to the idea of fatherhood. maybe you'll have a little lass with his eyes and your fiery attitude, or perhaps a lad with your nose and his spunk - whoever your child ends up being, he knows he'll love them unconditionally. just as he loves you. it does take him a few weeks to come around. at first, he'd drink his worries away at the pub, ranting to ghost or whomever else will listen. he's just stressed, and that stress never really goes away, but a stronger feeling of pride and excitement takes over. he's going to be a da! he knows you'll be a damn good mother, and he even takes an extra long leave to help around the house. he doesn't want you to lift a finger while you're pregnant (even though you're not even showing yet). before the baby is even born, he proves himself to be a very capable father.

lt. simon "ghost" riley

౿ ۪ ݁ when you break the news to him, simon is instantly afraid. memories of his own childhood come flooding back to him, and a new fear settles inside of him. he's always been afraid of turning out like his old man, and now that you're pregnant with his baby, there's a whole nother person that he could let down. he doesn't want that to happen - doesn't want his baby to suffer as he'd done. he makes a silent promise, both to you and the baby, that he'd always be there and present. he loves you more than anything, but the revelation has him growing distant for the first few months. whenever you bring up the topic of possible baby names, or ask to look at clothes at the shops, he tenses and responds in very short answers. it's abundantly clear that he's scared, and you don't really blame him. it isn't until you speak to him in the privacy and safety of your shared bedroom does he confess. "i'm just worried about turning into my father," his voice is uncharacteristically quiet, light eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks as he tries to blink away some unshed tears. "i don't want to hurt you, bunny, or the baby." he glances down at your abdomen, and you guide your hand to it. you have to reassure him many times that he's nothing like his father. it isn't until he comes with you to one of your appointments that he finally accepts that as a fact. when he hears your baby's heartbeat on the monitor, he knows deep in his heart that he'd do anything to protect you both.

[mapiforpresident]

Hi, Can i request a songfic? with the lyrics from „i cant help falling in love with you“ with R having to pick up drunk Leah or drunk Alexia (or Mapi choose whoever you want) from a party with their teammates and Alexia/Leah or Mapi tells R just how much she loves her in front of her teammates? And later a bit suggestive maybe? If its ok ofc. Love ur fics btw. Have a good day, evening or whatever

I Can't Help Falling in Love with You

Leah x reader

warnings: alcohol

~~~

You weren’t sure how you ended up in this situation. The party had started innocently enough, a celebration with Leah and her teammates after a long and hard-fought match. Everyone was letting loose and enjoying themselves. But somewhere between dancing to terrible pop songs and having a few drinks, things went from fun to... chaotic.

When you received the call, you didn’t expect to hear Leah’s slurred voice on the other end.

“Heyyyy, babe…” Leah hiccuped, the background noise loud with laughter and music. “I... hic I think I need your help.”

You frowned, looking around your living room where you had just gotten comfortable after a long day. “What’s going on, Le? You okay?”

“I’m fine! I’m… I’m fine, but, um, I can’t find the hic keys to the Uber… and I need to get home…” She paused, and you could hear her giggle faintly. “Also, I might have had a few too many drinks and... I might be in love with you… just, you know, casually telling you now. In case you didn’t know. I really love you.”

You smiled softly at her words, but you couldn’t help the concerned feeling rising in your chest. “Leah, where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“Right here! At the party… with my teammates… just… hic come and get me, yeah? I hic miss you…” Her voice was soft, almost tender, and you could hear the affection in it.

With a sigh, you grabbed your jacket and your keys. “Stay put, I’m on my way.”

When you pulled up to the party venue after looking at Leah's find my iphone, it was clear that Leah wasn’t the only one who had overdone it. The place was loud and filled with Leah's teammates, most of them either dancing, laughing, or finding their own corners to relax. You spotted Alessia first, sitting with Kyra and Vic at a table with drinks in hand.

But you didn’t see Leah.

Your heart skipped a beat as you walked toward them, trying to keep your cool. “Hey, have you seen Leah?” you asked, voice steady.

Alessia looked up at you with a half-smile, eyes slightly hazy. “She’s, uh, sitting in the corner by the window… She might have had a little too much to drink, but you know how she gets. She’s a mess.”

Kyra snickered, clearly enjoying this more than she should.

Rolling your eyes, you made your way through the crowd, weaving in and out of people until you finally saw Leah.

She was sitting on a couch, her head resting on her hand as she looked up at you with wide eyes.

“There you are!” Leah smiled drunkenly, her voice soft and sweet. “I knew you’d come… I really missed you… you look so beautiful tonight. I love you so much. You have no idea.”

You felt your heart swell as you crouched in front of her, trying to hide the smile tugging at your lips. “Le, come on, let’s get you home, yeah? You’re not in any condition to be out here anymore.”

“No, no,” she protested, shaking her head. “I’m not done having fun. You… you know what’s so crazy? I can’t help it... I just keep falling in love with you over and over.”

You raised an eyebrow, not able to resist teasing her. “Leah, you’re drunk.”

“I know,” she said, her smile softening. “But I love you. I love you so much, you have no idea how much.”

“I love you too, Leah,” you said, your voice soft. “But let’s get you home first, okay?”

She beamed, pulling you into a soft kiss that caught you by surprise. When she pulled away, she looked up at you with stars in her eyes.

You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in love with me too.”

“Maybe,” you teased. “But we’re getting you home now, okay?”

Leah giggled, nodding as she stood up, swaying slightly. “Okay… just promise me something.”

“What’s that?”

“Promise me you’ll still love me tomorrow, when I’m not drunk and I can remember all of this.”

You chuckled softly, guiding her toward the door. “I promise.”

As you led her out of the party and into the night air, you couldn’t help but smile at how crazy your relationship had been from the start, how it was always filled with moments of pure chaos, and yet, in that chaos, you were constantly reminded of just how much you loved her.

And maybe, just maybe, Leah was right—you couldn’t help falling in love with her either.

~~~

Feel free to leave a tip here. Not required at all and I still will write requests without it, but they are greatly appreciated and these requests are guaranteed in 2-3 days.

[aangelinakii]

TO YOUR SHOULDERS.

— you always looked better with your hair down.

summary : despite always wearing your hair up, jason thinks it looks better down.

note : yes this is totally ripped off from a scene in dexter s4,, and also reader is described with long hair but not explicitly fem ??? so just a heads up for that

it had never been a question of if you looked nice, it was just that it worked better for you in every way.

your trusty, dusty claw clip.

having your hair out of your face helps you think, helps you concentrate. you don't need to worry about fly-aways when you're eating, nor food getting stuck in the ends. it goes with every outfit, your claw clip.

whoever invented this thing needs everything they deserve and more, wherever they are.

that morning, as you dressed for work, you'd been standing in the bathroom mirror, clip lodged between your teeth as you gathered your hair at the back of your head.

jason's reflection emerged through the door, and he stepped up to the toilet next to you, lifting the seat up with the back of his knuckle — something he preferred doing to avoid getting germs on his fingers, which he'd wash off anyway.

but he paused, looking at you, and you could feel his gaze, as well as see it in the mirror if you tilted your head just a little.

your movements never ceased, and you reached to the front of your face, fingers closing around your clip.

"hey," jason piped up, almost urgent in a way that caused you to drop your hair and spin to look at him. his eyebrows were raised, but lowered in an instant, and his eyes were calm, kind.

after touching the toilet, he didn't want to reach up and ruin your hair, but he ghosted a hand over the front of your locks. "have i ever told you how good you look with your hair down?"

no, he hadn't, but now he has.

instinctively, you pulled away with a bashful grin threatening to poke out from pulled-up cheeks, soft like fresh bread. "really?" you breathed out, a small laugh like a song to your voice.

"really," he smiled with a nod.

"okay, i'll keep it down today." as you leaned forward into him, placing a hand on his toned chest, your smile still lingered as you kissed him, and you could feel the muscles in his face doing the same.

however, you hadn't kept your promise — not that it was a promise at all, but it was a compliment and it had made you feel warm and fuzzy.

but it's a force of habit, putting your hair up.

so when the work you were doing got a little bit more stressful, a little bit more things for you to rush around and do, the claw clip you'd kept safe in your bag just in case came out and clamped itself in your hair, keeping it up and out of your face.

by the time you'd closed the front door behind you and kicked your shoes off, jason was rounding the corner into the hallway to welcome you home.

your bag slipped from your fingers, falling to the floor as he appeared, and your arms stretched out for him. there was a slight pause in his actions, but it was barely anything noticeable in the exhaust of your head.

his wide frame slotted between your open arms, strong biceps holding you within his own. whilst your hands lay half-limp on his back, jason's embrace was tight, a hand coming to position on the nape of your exposed neck.

soft kisses tickled your temple.

"missed me?" you chuckled, voice muffled by the fabric of jason's grey t-shirt.

to which he only hummed in return, pulling his head away from where he'd been kissing to burrow in the crook of your shoulder. and then he said something, but you couldn't make it out, for his words had got lost in the threads of your clothes.

"speak up?" you offered, carefully twitching your head away so he'd look up.

when his face finally emerged, you found his black hair messed with affection and his eyes soft like the fur of a labrador. his lips thinned with a similar shyness you'd felt that morning.

"you put your hair up," jason finally mustered himself up to say, pads of his fingers dancing along the curls that had fallen down at the back after a busy day.

with a sharp inhale, you brought a hand to feel the clip, as if just realising it was there. "oh! sorry, it's been a long day."

you felt jason's hand rise to the clip too, and you moved yours away, settling it around the base of his neck, where your other hand met it.

"it's okay." his voice was soft and soothing, like a cup of chamomile and honey on a horridly rainy day; the scent of lavender when you're trying to get to sleep.

suddenly the tension at the back of your head was lost.

jason's other hand came around, brushing through the hair released from its clip, coming up to the top of your head to style it to frame your face. his eyes never looked at the hair, only you.

"perfect."

and the styling hand rested upon your cheek, thumb absently skimming across the skin.

with a gentle pull on his neck, you leaned forward, eyes fluttering shut, to meet him in the middle. if you were perfect, he was heaven-sent.

[undead-moth]

In order for any of this post to make the point it’s trying to make, it needs to completely ignore 1) nonviolent uses of fuck (and there are many) and 2) other nonviolent euphemisms for sex (and there are many) lmao.

Yes people use fuck violently. They also say “just fuck me up” to mean something like “let go” or “stop caring@ or similarly “let’s get fucked up” to mean “let’s get drunk and have fun.” They say “I fucking love this’ to add emphasis. They say “I fucked up” to mean “made a mistake.” They say “fucking around” to mean “goofing off.” Like. Are you kidding. There are a million nonviolent uses of the word fuck. Due to it being a curse word, it’s going to be used in a variety of ways.

People also say “I slept with him” and common phrases like “Netflix and chill” and “hooked up” and “got laid” and “made whoopie” and “went at it” and so so so many other things I can’t even think of right now. If there’s one word in this language that probably has a million euphemisms, it’s sex and many if not most would be nonviolent or at least not crude do to how excessively the word sex has been censored over time lmao

There are also very legitimate reasons not to use “making love” when you mean “fucking.” “Making love” isn’t dirty talk and many people like dirty talk. It would also be really weird to say you “made love” about a one-night-stand or something, given that the kind of intimacy and deep connection and well, romantic love implied in “making love” probably isn’t there with a one-night-stand.

And sure, our culture has in some ways tried to remove the concept of “intimacy and vulnerability and emotion” from sex but it is erroneous to attribute this to patriarchy.

Part of the reason why people have made efforts to remove these things from sex is in defiance of a (patriarchal!) culture that has always asserted that sex is something that should be reserved for marriage, and only ever done with one person, and that sexual expression of any kind outside of god-fearing vanilla heterosexual reproductive sex is sinful and wrong and shameful.

Efforts to remove intimacy/vulnerability/emotion from sex are in part an effort to take the shame and Christianity out of sex. People are resisting the idea that sex has to be with someone you’re committed to, or in love with and asserting that sex is a neutral act people can do for pleasure with whoever they want.

This has benefitted women. Historically women far more than men have been societally punished for sexual expression and for having sex when they weren’t supposed to, in a way they weren’t supposed to, or with someone they weren’t supposed to. They are also expected to be coy and ladylike when talking about sex in a way men aren’t. It is a good thing that women can fuck if they want to and it says a lot if you think that any sex that is not tender touches in the quiet dark with your one true love forevermore or talking about it in any other way is somehow by default violent to women.

The Will To Change by Bell Hooks fucked me up good

[inkdrinkerworld]

Oh oh what about soft!dom remus and reader who’s upset over a conversation with her family and doesn’t know how to let it go and he helps distract/regulate her???

Not sure if this is soft!dom, but he definitely helps reader relax and work through it mentally

“You’re stewing dovey.” Remus murmurs as he reaches for you on the settee.

He’s got a plate in one hand, bread pudding you’d been asking for all weekend and some fruit on the side.

“I’m sorry, it’s just, they’re so mean and it’s fine when they do it. But when I stick up for myself suddenly I’m a raging bitch.”

Remus shakes his head, kissing your temple as you start to get angry all over again. “You’re not a bitch. They’re just close minded.”

He placed the plate in your lap and you sigh, leaning your head on his shoulder. “I just get so pissed because why it’s okay for them but I’m a pariah when I do it? I’m not immune to bad moods, I just don’t take it out on everyone.”

Remus knows from Sirius that family relationships are tough. Sirius’ situation was different but he can see similarities between yours and his.

Your family, mainly your siblings, expect you to be this perfect golden child and you can never make a mistake and it weighs on you.

It’s why Remus and you only see your mum when you visit and your sister sometimes. Your brothers are another story.

“And you’re better for that dovey. You’re not a pariah, you’re allowed all of your feelings even if they try to make you feel bad. You won’t get censorship here.” Remus nudges your knee with his. “C’mon, eat before it goes cold.”

You take a bite and your shoulders drop a little- Remus is a wizard at bread pudding. It’s somehow never sopping wet on the bottom. It’s a comfort food of yours and after today it was necessary.

Remus chooses his words carefully while you eat.

“I know you care what they think of you, but I think sometimes they need the reality check you just gave them. They can’t walk all over you and expect it not to get tiring.”

You nod, “I just, I don’t want to be a bad person.”

Remus smiles at that. “You could never be a bad person dove.”

You roll your eyes as you offer him the last bite. “You’re biased, and you’re supposed to think highly of me.”

Remus speaks around the bite, “I am biased, but we both know I’m not going to let you be a bad person if I thought that’s what you were becoming.”

It’s true. Remus has stopped many spirals and many mean rants the moment they got deprecating.

“So you’d tell me?”

Remus kisses your temple, “If I ever got a feeling that you were being a bad person I’d tell you.” You seem content at that. Remus holds you closer to his chest. “For the record, I thought you could’ve stood to be a tiny bit more stern on the phone, but I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself.”

You smile as you tip your head back to his chest to look up at him. “Ah, I had help learning how to do that.”

Remus rubs your chest at the admission. “Whoever they are, they seem very smart.” There’s a cheeky smile on his face, but mostly he really is proud of you for standing up for yourself.

“You would think so.”

[revelboo]

omg, your stories are so good!! Really love that you write for characters I don't usually get to see, like waspinator, the insecticons, etc. Plus you also got me interested in Sunstorm, Which is surprising cause I didn't used to give him a second thought, before. Now I'm curious about where that story is going. Can't wait to see what you do in the future!

You guys have challenged me to write for a lot of characters I’d never written before and I love it

Where I Belong Pt 12

Bluestreak x Reader

• Waking up tangled in someone else, it takes a moment to remember that Blue had never mass shifted back after telling you all of it. He’d just wrapped himself around you, grieving until he’d finally gone into recharge still clinging to you like you’re his security blanket. Now his face is jammed against your neck, one of the points of his chevron digging uncomfortably into your cheek and his knee is between your thighs, arms wrapped around you. And he’s still out, you can feel him venting against you and you don’t have the heart to wake him. Tipping your head back to try and avoid getting poked by his chevron, you listen to the hum of his internal systems.

• There’s a soft hand on his helm, arms holding him and he curls tighter against that warmth and safety. Slowly coming out of recharge without that hum of terror chasing him into alertness. Without the nightmares. “Blue, honey, I can’t breathe,” you say and he’s fully online. Head lifting, he realizes he’s wrapped around you and he awkwardly scoots back. Forcing himself to stop smothering you and to put some distance between you both when he just wants to bury his face back against you. Feel those soft hands on him telling him that he’s okay. Reassuring him. “Sleep okay?” You ask him, somehow not annoyed with him when you should be. Have every right to be.

• “Sorry. I guess I got a little clingy there.” He can’t even look you in the eye right now, too embarrassed about needing someone to hold him. Like there’s something wrong with him for it. And you wiggle closer, resting your cheek on his chassis. See his arm lift, hand hovering but not touching and you grab his wrist and firmly drag his arm down to drape over you. “You don’t have to,” he murmurs, voice small. Like he thinks he’s bothering you and it makes you more determined to stay right where you are.

• “What am I doing? You’re warm and it’s freezing in here,” you reply, relaxing against him with a yawn. Pretending that you’re not trying to comfort him, trying to help. Servos hesitantly playing with your hair, he forces himself to relax. Willing to play along if he can feel your heart beating against him, grounding him in the reality that he’s not alone anymore. Doesn’t expect you to stay. No one ever does, but wants to hang on to this feeling until you get tired with him. Until he becomes too much of a burden.

• “Thank you,” he whispers and that almost breaks your heart. Like the fact that anyone might just actually want to reach out to him, to stay beside him is unthinkable to him. Makes you want to hunt down whoever put that thought into his head and beat some sense into them. Because this sweet bot is beginning to mean the world to you and you’re determined to protect him at any cost.

Previous

[wingsdippedingold]

My rapid fire ACOTAR hot takes that y’all will hate:

I pray the pros don’t find this

I don’t ship Elriel or Elucien because I ship Elain with singleness and just traveling Prythian to learn about different plants and then settling down somewhere to become an apothecary. Is she aromantic and suffering from comphet in my head? You’ll never know

Nesta would not have eaten Lucien alive, I think she’d be tentative at first but then realize he’s not a threat to her then grow to enjoy his presence. They could have had a great romance that actually helped her grow as a person, unlike Nessian.

Nessian is a mutually destructive relationship. Cassian is too insecure to date someone who he thinks looks down at him. Nesta needs an emotionally supportive partner.

There was ZERO need to actively SA Feyre publicly to make her look subservient or as if she had a “claim” laid on her. The reasoning is weak, and SJM an Rhysand fans need to admit that they only defend it because they thought it was sexy, or because they self-insert and can’t make Rhysand actually look bad.

Tamlin isn’t a bad leader, but it doesn’t suit him. He’s much more of a people person than someone who would like to be removed from them and working on laws and politics.

Tamlin should be walking around the SC as they rebuild and see a woman directing townspeople on how to do so. Tamlin would admire her for being able to connect with people but also being able to govern well. They would have a romance and that woman would eventually become a lady and help Tamlin govern because she wants to make a difference and is good at that stuff. They eventually get married 💥

Canon Elain is my least favorite Archeron. I think she’s manipulative and worse than Nesta in her cabin behavior because she wasn’t upfront about it. She let Feyre think she was useless and kind, to later only throw her under the bus. Nesta is the one who went to the wall for Feyre, and Elain didn’t gaf about Nesta caring for her the second is stopped benefitting her. Elain even acknowledges all that Feyre did for them, and yet she still didn’t do anything

BUT to append to that, I totally get why she’s that way. It’s her only means of survival because since childhood she was treated as a doll with noice of her own. She can’t be upfront like Nesta because she won’t get taken seriously, so her only way to get what she wants is to manipulate people and use her niceness as a mask.

Nesta and Feyre have a closer relationship than Nesta and Elain solely because they were constantly arguing. Nesta “favored” Elain, but it was still distant, but she actively watched Feyre and treated her like a whole person even if it was poorly. I think this is also exemplified in their appearance. Feyre and Nesta look very similar, while Elain doesn’t look like them as much.

You can’t argue that Feyre’s childhood was traumatizing (it was) but then say that it had no negative effects on her development and ability to socialize.

Feyre is NOT good at reading people despite what y’all like to argue. She can barely read Nesta, a woman she’s known for 20 years.

She suffers from hubris and has a savior complex. For example, when the debtors came to cripple her father she notes that they only left after SHE cried and soiled herself. In her perspective she will always be the hero because that’s how she makes herself fell good.

Arguable my hottest take: I don’t think Nesta and Feyre had a power imbalance in the cottage to make their relationship abusive. In fact, I think Feyre held more power over Nesta, Nesta just didn’t acknowledge it/was mean so it didn’t seem like it. Feyre was their father’s favorite, was the breadwinner, and technically dictated whether they would get to eat. Feyre held control over her family’s survival, even if she didn’t want it, and they all knew this. It is specifically why Elain sucked up to her (a character know to jump to whoever has the most power at the moment and would protect her the most)

Feyre doesn’t act how she wants to, but rather as she thinks a good person would. She doesn’t want to hunt, but she does so because she thinks she has to. Many of her acts are “selfless” but are often shallow. She also thinks everyone wants to the helped the same way she would want to be.

To add to this, she doesn’t love her sisters. She doesn’t love them for who they are, but because of proximity. She even says to Nesta when trying to get her to come to solstice “but you’re my sister”

Feyre did not know love and it did not know her, and thus made her latch on to whoever gave her affection and she deemed as her own savior (Tamlin and Rhysand). Should she finally ever feel suffocated by Rhysand (though he has ensured she won’t), I wouldn’t doubt that she would run to another.

Feyre has 0 healthy relationships. ZILCH

By adulthood, Feyre’s illiteracy is no one’s fault but her own. As a child she didn’t want to ask Nesta, but she didn’t ask Elain or her father either. Even then they fell into poverty at like 9 and she still didn’t learn much so that doesn’t make sense. She refused Tamlin’s help and Rhysand literally had to force her to learn.

Rhysand’s character makes 0 sense when you consider her upbringing, family, friends, personality, and powers, and is just a product of SJM trying to write the morally grey ultimate love interest.

I’m on the fence about him being a master manipulator towards Feyre and the IC. I doubt Sarah meant for him to come off like that, but if he actually was it would be a masterful story and make his character feel more cohesive.

HOWEVER, if he was a manipulator I don’t think it would be that impressive for him to manipulate Feyre. She is naive and new to the world of fae, and she switches her opinions like night and day. She would be the perfect target. Again, this comes about from her upbringing and her own hubris.

The series should stuck to being a trilogy. Insert it drags on and makes new problems that aren’t even properly addressed

This was not rapid I fear

[dumb-ster-fire]

Azriel x fem!Reader - Between Shadow and Sunlight - Part 3

Azriel x fem!reader, Helion x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW , Minors DNI

Summary: Y/N has always danced around the tension with Azriel-but how much longer can he deny it? When Helion pulls her into his arms at a Day Court ball, Azriel tells himself it doesn't matter. But as he watches her laugh, watches Helion's hands linger, jealousy coils tight. Shadows stir, and for the first time, Y/N wonders if Azriel will finally stop running from what's always been there between them.

Part 1 , Part 2

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The ballroom hums with music and laughter, the air thick with the scent of wine and the faint, sweet tang of magic. Y/N stands near the edge of the dance floor, a glass of wine in hand, her gaze flicking lazily across the room. She’s acutely aware of Azriel’s presence, even though he’s tucked into the shadows, his hazel eyes tracking her every move. She smirks to herself, swirling the wine in her glass.

Helion approaches, his golden eyes gleaming with mischief. “Starlight,” he purrs, his voice smooth as silk. “You’ve been neglecting me.”

Y/N turns to him, her lips curving into a slow, deliberate smile. “Neglecting you? I thought you’d be busy basking in your own radiance.”

Helion chuckles, the sound rich and warm. “Ah, but even the sun needs a little moonlight to shine brighter.” He offers her his hand. “Care to dance?”

Y/N glances over her shoulder, her eyes briefly meeting Azriel’s. She holds his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then turns back to Helion with a playful tilt of her head. “Why not?”

As they step onto the dance floor, Y/N lets herself lean into Helion’s touch, her movements fluid and deliberate. She’s not just dancing with him—she’s putting on a show. Her laughter rings out, bright and genuine, as Helion spins her, his hands lingering just a fraction longer than propriety allows. She catches the way Azriel’s shadows coil tighter around him, the way his jaw tenses ever so slightly.

“You’re enjoying this,” Helion murmurs, his breath warm against her ear as he pulls her close.

Y/N smirks, her voice low and teasing. “And you’re not?”

Helion’s golden eyes spark with amusement. “Oh, I’m enjoying it immensely. But I can’t help but wonder… who exactly are you trying to provoke?”

Y/N’s gaze flicks toward Azriel again, her smirk deepening. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Helion laughs, the sound rich and full. “You’re a dangerous one, starlight. I like it.”

As the music shifts into something slower, more intimate, Helion’s hand slides to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N lets him, her body aligning with his as they move together. She’s hyper-aware of Azriel’s gaze burning into her, but she doesn’t look his way. Not yet. Instead, she tilts her head back, her lips brushing dangerously close to Helion’s ear.

“You’re not afraid of a little competition, are you?” she murmurs, her voice a velvet whisper.

Helion’s grip tightens ever so slightly. “Competition? My dear, I thrive on it.”

Y/N laughs softly, the sound like a challenge. “Good.”

From the shadows, Azriel watches, his expression unreadable but his shadows betraying him. They writhe and twist, curling around him like restless serpents. He doesn’t move, doesn’t intervene, but the tension in his posture is unmistakable.

Cassian, ever the instigator, sidles up to him with a grin. “You’re just going to stand here and let her dance with him all night?”

Azriel doesn’t take his eyes off Y/N. “She can dance with whoever she wants.”

Cassian snorts. “Sure. And I’m the High Lord of Dawn.”

Azriel ignores him, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she leans in to whisper something to Helion, her lips brushing his ear. The shadows around Azriel darken, and Cassian chuckles, clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re so screwed, brother.”

On the dance floor, Y/N feels the weight of Azriel’s gaze like a physical touch. She knows she’s playing with fire, but she can’t help herself. There’s something intoxicating about the way he watches her, the way his control frays ever so slightly with every move she makes.

Helion spins her again, his hand sliding up her arm in a way that’s just shy of possessive. “You’re quite the enigma, you know,” he says, his voice low and intimate. “I can’t decide if I want to unravel you or simply admire you from afar.”

Y/N tilts her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Why not both?”

Helion’s laugh is warm, but there’s a flicker of something darker in his eyes—something that tells her he’s not entirely immune to her games. “Careful, starlight. You might find yourself in over your head.”

Y/N’s gaze flicks toward Azriel again, her smirk deepening. “I can handle myself.”

As the music slows to a stop, Helion dips her low, his face inches from hers. For a moment, the world seems to hold its breath. Then he pulls her back up, his hand lingering at her waist. “Until next time,” he murmurs, his voice rich with promise.

Y/N steps back, her smile playful. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As Helion walks away, Y/N turns to find Azriel standing just a few feet away, his shadows curling around him like a living thing. She meets his gaze, her expression all innocence. “Enjoy the show?”

Azriel’s voice is low, smooth, but there’s an edge to it that sends a shiver down her spine. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Y/N steps closer, her eyes gleaming with challenge. “And if I am?”

Azriel’s gaze drops to her lips, then back to her eyes. “You might not like the consequences.”

Y/N tilts her head, her smile slow and deliberate. “Or maybe I’ll love them.”

The tension between them crackles like a live wire, and for a moment, neither of them moves. Then Azriel steps closer, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Careful, Y/N. I don’t play games.”

Y/N’s lips curve into a smirk. “Good. Neither do I.”

And with that, she turns on her heel, leaving Azriel standing there, his shadows coiled tightly around him, his gaze burning into her back.

From across the room, Cassian lets out a low whistle. “Well, that was… something.”

Mor grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Oh, this is going to be fun.”

Y/N, for her part, feels a thrill of satisfaction as she sips her wine. She’s not done playing yet—not by a long shot. And if Azriel thinks he can outmaneuver her, he’s in for a very rude awakening.

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The refreshment table is a lavish spread of decadent treats—glistening fruits, delicate pastries, and goblets of wine that shimmer under the golden light of the ballroom. Y/N stands there, her back to the room, her silhouette framed by the soft glow of the chandeliers. She picks up a cherry, its deep red skin glistening, and rolls it between her fingers with deliberate slowness.

Azriel watches her from across the room, his shadows curling restlessly around him. He’s been trying to keep his distance, to maintain some semblance of control, but she’s making it impossible. Every move she makes, every glance she throws his way, is a challenge—one he’s finding harder and harder to resist.

Y/N lifts the cherry to her lips, her gaze flicking to Azriel’s. She holds his stare as she takes a slow, deliberate bite, the juice staining her lips a deep crimson. She licks the sweetness away, her tongue tracing the curve of her bottom lip, and Azriel’s jaw tightens.

Cassian, standing beside him, lets out a low whistle. “She’s really trying to kill you, isn’t she?”

Azriel doesn’t respond. His eyes are locked on Y/N as she picks up another cherry, her movements languid and unhurried. She pops it into her mouth, her lips closing around it with a soft, almost obscene sound. Azriel’s shadows writhe, and Cassian chuckles.

“You’re just going to stand there and let her torment you?” Cassian asks, his tone equal parts amused and incredulous.

Azriel’s voice is low, rough. “She’s enjoying herself.”

“And you’re not?” Cassian counters, raising a brow.

Azriel doesn’t answer. He’s too focused on Y/N, on the way she’s toying with him, on the way she’s making him feel things he’s spent centuries burying.

Y/N, for her part, is reveling in the effect she’s having on him. She picks up a third cherry, holding it between her fingers as she turns to face him fully. Her eyes gleam with mischief as she steps away from the table, her movements slow and deliberate. She stops a few feet away from him, her gaze never leaving his.

“Care for a cherry, shadowsinger?” she asks, her voice low and sultry.

Azriel’s eyes darken, his shadows curling tighter around him. “I’m not hungry.”

Y/N smirks, stepping closer. “Are you sure? They’re… delicious.” She holds the cherry up, her fingers brushing against her lips as she does so. Azriel’s gaze drops to her mouth, and she sees the way his throat works as he swallows.

Cassian, sensing the tension, takes a step back. “I’m just… going to go find Mor. You two have fun.”

Y/N doesn’t even glance at him as he leaves. Her focus is entirely on Azriel, on the way his body tenses as she steps even closer, until there’s barely a breath of space between them.

“You’re playing with fire,” Azriel murmurs, his voice rough.

Y/N tilts her head, her lips curving into a wicked smile. “Maybe I like the heat.”

She lifts the cherry to his lips, her fingers brushing against them as she does so. Azriel’s breath hitches, and for a moment, he doesn’t move. Then, slowly, he opens his mouth, letting her place the cherry on his tongue. His lips close around her fingers, and Y/N feels a jolt of heat shoot through her at the contact.

She pulls her hand back slowly, her gaze locked with his. “Well?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “Do you like it?”

Azriel’s eyes burn into hers as he chews slowly, deliberately. “It’s… sweet.”

Y/N’s smirk deepens. “Not too sweet, I hope.”

Azriel steps closer, his shadows wrapping around them like a cocoon. “You’re pushing your luck, Y/N.”

Y/N tilts her head back, her lips brushing against his as she speaks. “Or maybe I’m just getting started.”

Azriel’s hand comes up to cup her jaw, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

Y/N’s breath hitches, but she doesn’t pull away. “And if I am?”

Azriel’s gaze drops to her lips, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Then you’d better be prepared for the consequences.”

Y/N’s heart races, but she holds his gaze, her voice steady. “I’m not afraid of you, Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. “You should be.”

And then he kisses her.

It’s not gentle, not tentative. It’s fierce and demanding, a claiming that leaves no room for doubt. Y/N’s hands come up to grip his shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket as she kisses him back with equal fervor. The world around them fades away, leaving only the heat of their bodies, the taste of cherries and wine on their lips, the electric charge of desire that crackles between them.

When they finally pull apart, both of them are breathing heavily. Azriel’s eyes are dark with need, his shadows coiled tightly around them. Y/N’s lips are swollen, her cheeks flushed, but her smirk is as wicked as ever.

“Well,” she murmurs, her voice husky. “That was… unexpected.”

Azriel’s thumb brushes over her bottom lip again, his gaze intense. “You’ve been pushing me all night, Y/N. Did you really think I wouldn’t push back?”

Y/N’s smile is slow, deliberate. “I was hoping you would.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a smirk of his own. “Careful what you wish for.”

Y/N’s eyes gleam with challenge. “Oh, I’m not afraid of you, Azriel. In fact… I think I’m just getting started.”

Azriel’s gaze darkens, his voice a low, dangerous murmur. “Then let’s see how far you’re willing to go.”

And with that, he pulls her back into him, his lips claiming hers once more as the shadows wrap around them, shielding them from the prying eyes of the ballroom.

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The kiss is savage, a clash of teeth and tongues that leaves them both breathless. Y/N’s hands claw at Azriel’s shoulders, her nails digging into the fabric of his jacket as his shadows envelop them, shielding them from the world. The music of the ballroom fades into a distant hum, the chatter of guests dissolving into nothingness. All that exists is the heat of their bodies, the taste of each other, the electric pull that has been building all night.

Azriel breaks the kiss just long enough to growl against her lips, his voice rough with need. “You’ve been driving me fucking insane all night.”

Y/N smirks, her breath coming in short, uneven bursts. “Good. That was the point.”

Azriel’s eyes darken, his hands tightening on her waist. “You’re going to regret teasing me.”

Y/N arches a brow, her lips brushing his as she speaks. “Prove it.”

That’s all the invitation Azriel needs. In one fluid motion, he steps them into the shadows, the world dissolving into darkness. Y/N feels the cool rush of shadow-walking, the sensation both disorienting and exhilarating. When the shadows part, they’re in a secluded alcove, far from the ballroom—a private balcony overlooking the moonlit gardens of the Day Court. The air is cool, but the heat between them burns hotter than ever.

Azriel pins her against the stone railing, his body pressing into hers, his shadows curling around them like a living thing. Y/N’s back arches, her breath catching as his lips trail down her neck, his teeth grazing her skin in a way that sends shivers down her spine.

“You’re fucking insufferable,” he murmurs against her throat, his hands sliding down to grip her hips.

Y/N laughs breathlessly, her fingers tightening in his hair. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel lifts his head, his golden-brown eyes blazing with intensity. “Here I am.”

He kisses her again, deeper this time, his tongue sliding against hers in a way that makes her knees weak. Y/N’s hands roam over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath his jacket. She tugs at the fabric, desperate to feel his skin against hers, and Azriel obliges, shrugging it off with a quick, impatient motion.

Y/N’s dress is next. Azriel’s hands slide up her sides, his fingers deftly finding the ties at her back. He undoes them with practiced ease, the silvery fabric slipping from her shoulders to pool at her feet. The cool night air brushes her skin, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of Azriel’s gaze as he takes her in.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent.

Y/N smirks, though her breath hitches as his hands slide up her bare arms. “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, shadowsinger.”

Azriel’s lips curve into a slow, predatory smile. “Good thing I don’t need flattery.”

He kisses her again, his hands roaming over her body with a possessiveness that makes her head spin. Y/N’s fingers fumble with the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against hers. When she finally gets it open, she slides her hands over his chest, her nails lightly scraping his skin. Azriel growls low in his throat, the sound sending a thrill through her.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me,” he murmurs, his lips trailing down her neck to her collarbone.

Y/N tilts her head back, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps. “Then make it worth it.”

Azriel’s hands slide down to her thighs, lifting her effortlessly until she’s seated on the stone railing. Y/N wraps her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as his lips find hers again. The cool stone against her back is a sharp contrast to the heat of his body, the sensation only heightening her arousal.

Azriel’s hands roam over her body, his touch firm and deliberate, leaving no inch of her untouched. Y/N’s nails dig into his shoulders as his lips trail down her chest, his tongue flicking over her nipple in a way that makes her gasp. She arches into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he continues his exploration, his touch both worshipful and demanding.

“Azriel,” she breathes, her voice trembling with need.

He lifts his head, his eyes dark with desire. “Tell me what you want.”

Y/N’s lips curve into a wicked smile. “I want you to fuck me. Now.”

Azriel doesn’t need to be told twice. He kisses her again, his hands sliding down to grip her hips as he positions himself at her entrance. Y/N’s breath hitches as he pushes into her, the sensation overwhelming in the best possible way. She wraps her legs tighter around him, pulling him closer as he begins to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate at first, then faster, harder.

The world narrows to the two of them, to the heat of their bodies, the sound of their mingled breaths, the feel of his skin against hers. Y/N’s nails dig into his back as she arches into him, her moans muffled by his lips on hers. Azriel’s hands grip her hips, his movements growing more urgent as he drives them both closer to the edge.

“Y/N,” he murmurs against her lips, his voice rough with need. “Look at me.”

Y/N opens her eyes, meeting his gaze. The intensity in his golden-brown eyes takes her breath away, the raw emotion there making her heart race even faster. She reaches up to cup his face, her thumb brushing over his cheekbone.

“I’ve got you,” she whispers.

Azriel’s breath hitches, his thrusts growing more erratic as he nears his release. Y/N’s own climax builds, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it finally snaps, sending waves of pleasure crashing through her. Azriel follows her over the edge, his body shuddering as he spills himself inside her.

For a moment, they stay like that, their bodies pressed together, their breaths mingling as they come down from the high. Azriel rests his forehead against hers, his hands still gripping her hips as if he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he lets go.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he murmurs again, his voice soft this time.

Y/N smiles, her fingers trailing down his chest. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel chuckles, the sound low and warm. “Here I am.”

They stay like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms as the cool night air brushes their skin. The world outside the balcony feels far away, unimportant. All that matters is the two of them, the connection they’ve finally given in to, the fire that’s been burning between them all night—and for far longer than that.

Finally, Azriel lifts his head, his gaze soft as he looks at her. “We should probably get back before they send a search party.”

Y/N smirks, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “Let them wait.”

Azriel laughs, the sound rich and full. “You’re impossible.”

Y/N’s smile is slow, deliberate. “And yet, here you are.”

Azriel kisses her again, slow and deep, before helping her down from the railing. They dress quickly, the silence between them comfortable, intimate. As they step back into the shadows, Y/N feels a thrill of anticipation. This isn’t the end—it’s just the beginning.

And she can’t wait to see where it leads.