#like if you’re going to be lazy why pick up the game

[thranduel]

i don’t understand why people hate gale.

“he’s annoying” or “he talks too much” or “he’s too clingy and got offended when i was in a relationship” (which was a BUG, it takes two seconds to do some research before jumping to conclusions) are the most stupid reasons to actually hate a character.

he’s the one that has the warmest personality when you first meet him as well, so i just don’t get it?? i’m not saying you’re not allowed to dislike him, and this doesn’t apply to everyone, but SOMETIMES it feels like people just hop on a “hate bandwagon” because i see so many comments (especially on tiktok… where most of the people only started playing because it’s “trendy” now) about him that are the exact same as each other and it’s like people have lost the ability to think for themselves and form their own opinions after actually playing the game properly and learning about the characters.

so many people even go on about how it’s a turn off that he “doesn’t shut up about his ex”… like maybe actually continue playing the story to understand why it’s a significant conversation to have and why it’s a huge part of his character arc, and stop being weirdly bitter/jealous/annoyed when the man is also a VICTIM that has been manipulated and abused in a relationship with a massive power imbalance.

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: implied noncon, yandere

fem reader

The way Gojo Senpai is so obnoxious, he doesn’t understand his flirting is making you uncomfortable…

He seriously thinks he’s making you fall head over heels in love with him even when you give him nothing in return to make him think that. He just thinks you’re embarrassed and nervous, flustered by his attention, and that’s the reason you divert your gaze and bite your lip when he has you against the lockers, leaning on his hand with his shades gliding low on his nose—telling you that you have no shot becoming a sorcerer, but that you look too cute in the uniform not to give it your best try. 

“Don’t worry, just say my name, and I’ll come save you,” he’ll say. “You can be my personal assistant supervisor instead.” 

His game isn’t anything to brag about. It's more in line with bullying than flirting, but you pick up on the suggestiveness. That heated saccharine look within his blue eyes can only mean one thing if the way he plays with your hair isn’t enough of a hint already.

But his words are nothing short of derogatory, and all in all, he simply makes you feel gross—a sentiment you thought you put across, but it seems that having six eyes only makes you blind.

It takes Shoko telling him to leave the poor Kohai alone for him to finally understand that you don’t like him. And then he’s just confused and embarrassed.

And a tinge bit irritated.

Gojo knows for a fact he could make any girl want him. Even those who seem to hate him would melt if he gave them the same attention he’s been giving you. Any girl. He could have any girl, but he chose you. And you reject him?

No. He can’t accept that.

“Most girls would be grateful for my attention,” He states plainly after having tracked you down.

Your head snapped, jolting. “Gojo Senpai—” You dropped the mop in your hands with a clatter, having been deep in your own thoughts on classroom cleaning duty. You sighed as the scare settled, giving a breathy laugh, “You scared me—”

“Is that it?” he interrupted. “I scare you?”

You quirked a brow with a tilt of your head. “What?”

“Do I scare you?” he repeated, louder, posted on the threshold in a stance you’d never seen him in—stiff and squared, not his usual lazy laidbackness.

Confused, your eyes looked around as if searching for clues but came up emptyhanded, “Uhm, I don’t understand—”

“It’s a simple question,” he said, cutting you off again, this time with a step into the classroom. He talked slowly, cradling the next words, “Are you scared of me?”

Where it all came from, you hadn’t a clue. But then again, Gojo Senpai has always been rather strange. 

Were you scared of him? It’s not really something you’ve ever thought about. Sure, if you were to go one versus one with him, you’d probably piss yourself. But in a regular setting, you just found him to be as grating as the next person.

“I don’t think so?” you end up answering.

“Good. So what is it then?” His shades were low enough for his stare to skim over. Brighter than clear skies, and yet, somehow, so dark. “Why don’t you like me.”

Oh, so he��s figured it out on his own then. It’s about time. And thank fuck for it—saves you the trouble of breaking it to him yourself. Though you were still left with the unfair task of telling him why.

“Honestly, Gojo Senpai, I’m not, or well… you’re just not my type.”

Stick to the basics, is what you told yourself. There’s no need to drag this out.

“Yeah, I figured. I’m asking why,” he countered, in complete disagreement with your thought.

Still, you wanted to fight for it. “Does it really matter?”

“Yes.”

This conversation was the last thing you wanted, but it seemed the white-haired prodigy wouldn’t leave without having it.

“Well…” you started, still pondering. Maybe he’d appreciate the honesty? He’s a rather straightforward guy himself. “I mean, there’s no way you don’t already know this, but—” You picked up the broom again mid-sentence. “You’re really obnoxious.”

He took a small second before he scoffed, “So? No one else cares.”

It reminded you of arguing with someone half your age—the petty anger in an ill-thought-through comment slung at you as if it carried all the weight in the world. But what everyone else thought of him hadn’t anything to do with you—and even so, out of the people on campus, you’re certain you’re not the only one who finds his attitude unpleasant—they just don’t tell it to his face. 

You had half the mind to tell him to go get a grip, but he was still your Senpai.

“Good for you, I guess?” You weren’t really looking to fight with him, after all. “So you can flirt with literally anyone else then,” you dismiss him and go back to finish cleaning the classroom��glad to have put it all behind you. You were starting to fear he’d never leave you alone.

There’s a woosh, then the hard thunk of your back hitting the wall. Both your upper arms are gripped tight, pinned. When you open your eyes again after adjusting to the impact, you look straight up into the full view of two crisp comet blues.

“You’re mighty rude for a Kohai. You know that?”

Your head stings. You blink crookedly.

“Senpai—”

“Maybe I’ve misjudged you. D’you have anythin’ for show to back that attitude up?” It’s eerie how he says it in the same flirty fashion he would otherwise—even the look in his eyes are the same. But his grip tightens.

“I don’t want to fight—”

“No?” he cuts you off with a pout. “I could've sworn you were asking for it—all but begging for it a second ago.”

You whimper, cowering at the sudden bite in his voice.

“What’s the matter, huh? I thought you said you weren’t scared?”

Your voice comes out weak, “Please, Gojo Senpai, I—”

“Please?” he questions brightly, eyes stark and burning like a stovetop. “Yeah, that’s got a nicer ring to it—suits you better.” The smile that splits across his face is nothing short of unhinged. “But it’s not enough for me to let your disrespect slide.” He licks his lips, and a chill runs up your spine, feeling like caught prey. “Lucky you, I know exactly what price to put on it.”

His mouth devour yours the same way—pouncing like a beast would, with teeth more than lips, then a tongue. You whine as you twist—it’s more instinctive than deliberate when your knee shoots up into the unprotected space between his legs—right into that thing that was rubbing and rutting against you.

You make a run for it as he staggers back with a hiss, but you don’t make it farther than three measly steps before you’re bent over the closest desk.

His fist wrangles your hair, using it to shove you face-down against the wood—the weight of his body on top of your back with his voice raspy against your ear. “We could’ve left this with a kiss, but I don’t think it’s gonna be that easy now.”

Tears spill hotly in a panic, but no matter how much strength you put into lifting yourself up, you remain down. Sobbing, “Let go—help—”

He snickers with a hand under your skirt, spidering delicately up your thigh. “Who’re you callin’ for help, hm? I’m already here.”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[natsaffection]

Apologize.

Sugar Mommy!Natasha x sugar baby!Reader

MINORS DNI 18+!

Summary: Natasha let you apologize to her employees

Warnings: Age gap! (N= 37 R= 21), BDSM themes, Mommy kink, spanking, fingering (while watched), degration

Word count: 2,3k

A/n: Happy New year! What better way to start the year than by cumming 4 times bc of this amazing creature? What? Never mind 🔊

💵 This plays in the My sweet Baby universe 💵

-

The soft glow of dawn seeped through the large windows of Natasha's penthouse, casting a warm hue across the room. She stirred from her peaceful slumber, a contrast to the groggy but content figure beside her – You.

She, with her graceful demeanor, carefully extricated herself from the cozy embrace, causing you to mumble in protest. „it's Saturdayyy, Why are you getting up so early?"

Natasha smirking and looking back to you, "Some of us have responsibilities, little girl. Work doesn't take weekends off." You, still half-asleep, pouted as Natasha leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back soon. Try to get some more sleep."

"Mmm, too early for responsibilities.."

As Natasha prepared for the day, the scent of fresh coffee filled the air. You, now more awake, shuffled into the kitchen in one of Natasha's oversized shirts. "You make the best coffee, you know?" Natasha looks behind her, surprised that you are awake now and have gotten up, "One of my many talents.."

You leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Natasha with a mix of admiration and love. Despite the early hour, Natasha's presence radiated confidence and grace. "It won't be too long. What do you have planned for the day?"

you accepted the cup she gave you and thought for a moment "well, Maybe a lazy day in, catching up on shows. You know..the usual."

"Sounds perfect. I'll be back before you know it." Before she goes, she looked at one of her Maiden, “Make sure she gets a good breakfast, I’ll be off for the day.”

“Of course, Mrs. Romanoff. Safe travels.”

As Natasha prepared to leave, she glanced toward the kitchen, catching your eye. „Please don’t made a mess while I’m gone.“

You weren't sure what she meant, but you just smiled innocently and nodded. Natasha takes another quick look around and leaves the house to go to work. As you hear the car drive further and further away, you think about what you can do today. Natasha's house all to yourself? You have to make the most of it.

You get up and put your cup in the sink and before one of the maids could take it, you jump in, "if you like, you can go home.."

She looked at you and just smiled as she picked up the cup, "Don't worry, Ms. Y/n it's fine." But you wouldn't be dissuaded "come on! Surely you have things to do? What's the big deal?"

You put on your puppy dog face and take the cup from her again. She looks at you and relents, "okay fine, but I'll be back in a few hours." Before closing the door, she looks back and bows, "Thank you, Ms Y/n"

And now you're storm free. If you're honest, you already had a plan. You pull out your cell phone and text Kate to see if she's up for a game. Knowing her, she agrees and a little later all you could hear was your screams in the living room.

"Go on, Kate!"

The living room echoed with the sounds of virtual warfare and animated banter as you and Kate immersed yourselves in their gaming session. The excitement mounted and soon you’re playful trash talk escalated to full-blown screams.

"Take that! In your face!"

"No way! I totally had you!"

"Admit it, Kate. I'm the gaming champion!"

"Oh, you wish! Prepare for the ultimate comeback!"

The planned two hours turned into seven and one cup ended up being more. A bag of potato chips here and a salad there. Of course, that wasn't enough, and 2 cartoons of pizza were also added.

You had completely lost track of time and didn't even notice when Maria and the others entered the house and stood there in complete shock. As if it wasn't going to get any better, they heard the keys to the front door and a second later a stressed Natasha came in, exhausted from the day

As Natasha entered her penthouse, she noticed that the hallway was already bustling with people. She put her bags down and called Maria.

"What's going on?"

Maria fidgeting nervously, "Um, well, Mrs. Romanoff,..." Natasha sensed the hesitation and raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Maria? Speak up."

Maria was split between coming to your defense and speaking the truth of her bite "It's just that, um, Miss Y/N may have gotten a little carried away with her activities today. The dishes are piling up, well, the living room isn't exactly in its usual state."

Natasha's expression became serious "I see. Thank you for the information."

"I'm sorry if I -"

"It's not your fault. I appreciate your honesty. I'll take care of it."

Maria nodded and Natasha proceeded to confront you. When she arrived in the living room, she understood what Maria meant. It looked disastrous and you were sitting in the middle of it. With wide headphones on and shouting into them as if you couldn't be heard.

You, on the other hand, were so absorbed in your world that you didn't even notice Natasha grabbing the remote control and switching off the TV. You were so baffled and thought it was a mishap that you read it out like that „NO! What the hell!!! Why is now-" As you get up, you collide with Natasha and fall back onto the couch, "Nat! What are you doing here already?"

She, however, was totally unenthusiastic and you could see that in her eyes, "Already? Y/n have you looked at the time? It's 6 pm! How long have you been sitting in front of that thing?" You repeat what she said and look in shock at the big clock on the wall and your heart stops. Fuck. At that moment you remembered everything else and looked around. Your garbage was everywhere, pizza boxes, forks, empty bottles, the sink was full to the brim, stains everywhere, "U-Uhm...I must have forgotten the time..."

Natasha swallowed her nerves and put the remote back down, "looks like it! You have 10 minutes to clean up the mess. I'm going to take a shower, the day hasn't been stressful enough."

Wow, she sounds like your mom when you were little. Why do they always want you to do it right away? You sigh and lean against the couch again to get away from all the trouble, but Natasha doesn't like that, "What do you think you're doing? Come on, clean up."

You rolled your eyes and your mouth was faster than your brain "come on clean up... Why doesn't Maria do it or something..." when you had spoken it, you remained frozen and literally prayed that Natasha hadn't heard. You turn around, heart pounding, and see her staring at you. Now you really have it. "I-I didn't mean that! I-!"

"Undress."

You blink, what did she say?

Natasha's nostrils flared, her chest rose and fell. "Ah, not so chatty now?" she walks up to you and lifted your chin, "what's wrong? Color?“ Despite the situation, your stomach flutters that she could switch her emotions so much and now asked you about your condition, „G-Green, it's just..what if the others come in?"

Natasha in turn, grinned, "Oh sladost (darling), if that's it..don't worry about it. Now turn around, knees, hands on the floor, and ass in the air.“

Your heart fluttered in your chest as you turned around. Lower your hands to the floor and kneel on the ground. You hear Natasha sit down on the couch and seconds later, came the first blow, "I won't stop until your ass is purple," she announced casually and started again, "You don't have to count this time. But you better be prepared to barely be able to sit for the next week."

You try as hard as you can to stay quiet, so as not to make Natasha any angrier and let the spanks wash over you. After 10 strokes, she leans over you and asks in your ear, "Color?" You exhale deeply and with wiggling arms you say, "Green..."

Natasha leaned back again, "stand up and look at me." You do as she said and now stand in front of her with trembling legs. She leans up again, and looks up at you, "Do you trust me?" You didn't know exactly what she meant by that, but you were clear about one thing, "Of course, Mommy. Always." You see her smiling contentedly, "well then. Off to the corner back there, on your knees and hands behind your back." Your eyes widen. That was new. "M-Mommy..why-"

"Don't question me, or your punishment will be even longer."

You let out a shaky breath and angrily do as she said. When you were in position, Natasha finally stood up, "Come in and clean up please."

Your breath caught in your throat. This isn't really happening.

Natasha looked at you as Maria and the others entered the room to clean up the mess you had made. They didn't even glance at you because they knew what was going to happen if. You, however, didn't know and felt totally exposed. You feel your hands grow cold and close your eyes so that you can drown in the shame of strangers.

"I know it's a lot, but try to do it in ten minutes. I'm finally going to take my shower, and you over there! Don't move an inch." She looks at you again to make sure you've understood. You just whisper "Y-Yes, Mommy.." to yourself and then hear her leave the room. You also heard the maids running through the room to remove the dirt. You just wanted to sink into the ground and try to think of something else.

When Natasha came back exactly 10 minutes later, she was proud to see that not only did the room look clean again, but you were still kneeling in your corner. "What a good girl you can be. Come here."

You stood up and your knees were red due the kneeling. Turning around, you took in the room again and looked around for the maids, but found none. You slowly approached Natasha and she welcomed you with her hands on your hips and looked down at you. "Jump."

You knew what that meant and you jump, wrapping your legs around her, thinking you were both going up to her bedroom now. But you were wrong. She angrily moved you to the couch and put you down again. She kissed you and swallowed your moans that you let out. Then she kissed her way down and stood up again. She took one hand and stroked it from your thigh down to your knee and lifted it slightly. She put her tongue on it and licked her way back up to your throbbing spot, not taking her eyes off you for a second. When she finally took your clit in her mouth, she held your thighs down so you couldn't bend too far and you moaned.

"You are fabulous, your cunt is fabulous." She poked her tongue in, and you put your hands over your mouth, afraid that the others were still around. Natasha noticed this and pulled her tongue out of you. She reached under your back and pulled you up to her. She turned you so that your back was now leaning against her chest. She didn't hesitate for a second and immediately filled you with her fingers "Ah! This p-position! It’s ..."

Natasha wraps an arm around you and pulls you even closer, thrusting deeper into you. You leaned forward to somehow release the pressure, but fearing you were mistaken, Natasha turned you and leaned you against the wall with a hard thrust. She attacks your neck and pumped her fingers in and out, if she didn't hold you against the wall, you would surely slide up and down, „It’s t-too r-rough , my back..."

She lifted one thigh so you could put some weight on it and continued with her temp, "come in."

You were preoccupied with yourself, but when you heard, "Ms. Romanoff." your eyes shot open and you saw Maria standing right in front of you with her head down.

Natasha looked at you, "Apologize to her." Your head is spinning and Natasha's fingers just wouldn't stop pumping continuously in your pussy, this time her thumb rubbing wildly against your clit, "tell her you're sorry for the mess and for the fact that she cleaned it up!"

She gave a strong thrust which made you slide up a little and groan, "I'm sorry! Ah-no ..please..I'm..s-sorry! Ah-h!!!" Natasha was still pushing, "for..?"

She can't be serious..you could barely think, "t-the filth..please.."

"Apology accepted, Ms. Y/n, thank you." You managed to open your eyes a little and blurred to see that Maris still had her head bent down.

"Dismissed." natasha told her in a cold tone and Maria left the room again. Now, Natasha looked at you again, "how's it looking? Lesson learned?" You were literally drooling on her shoulder and could almost just nod, "y-yes..I'm sorry..please..I'm almost there-"

Natasha had to chuckle and applied pressure to her hand one last time. You tensed and held onto her shoulder like you would die if you fell off and before you knew it You came all over her, completely staining her and the floor in your wetness.

Natasha had to hold you so you didn't slip out of her arms. She lifted you bridestyle and you leaned against her chest. This time she really is on her way to the bedroom and as she climbs the stairs she looks at you again and speaks softly, "You know they never seen you from the front. The sight is only for me and especially only for you, okay?"

You wanted to say something about how nice you thought the gesture was, but you just couldn't find the strength and fall into a deep sleep.

-

-

-

I wannaaaaa

[usedpidemo]

Plaid (Newjeans Hanni)

Hanni Pham is just about the perfect student: consistently top of the class, perennial dean’s lister, well liked among her teachers and peers, an active participant for every co-curricular and extracurricular activity, and overall just a good person to be around.

And you? You’re the exact opposite. Slow, lazy, constantly in self-isolation—always cutting classes whenever you can, struggling with just about everything. You’re surprised you’re still even attending this university as is, despite the countless talks with your professors.

Which is why when she greets you a good morning as soon as you run into each other in the hallway, the books you’ve been carrying crumble like Jenga blocks. 

She immediately jumps into action, picking up your dropped books in record fashion to hand them back to you. The cute, irresistible smile etched on her lips is icing on the cake. 

“Here you go!”

Admittedly, you feel some type of way about Hanni. It’s conflicting, constantly changing. A little bit of jealousy because she’s the student you wished you were, but also a bit of allure because of how surprisingly attractive she is. You’ve never felt any kind of attraction towards anyone in college besides her. And she turns out to be an exchange student, and you’ve never seen anyone with the combination of cuteness and beauty before she came along.

You take a moment to look into her eyes. Those gentle, warm irises perfectly capture the kindness emanating from her—God, why is she so damn irresistible. It isn’t that you’ve been giving her the cold shoulder, but you’re merely apathetic and neutral with her. Outside of the same brief rote exchanges—good morning, what’s your lunch, what are you doing after class later—you and Hanni have been, for the most part, worlds apart. 

The universe is doing its part to bring you two together, because you can feel it. Tension so thin, you can cut it with a knife. 

She never lets up. 

She wants to know you.

“I-uh, thanks,” you say, suddenly averting her gaze to your locker instead as you snatch your books back, then in the other direction. Anywhere but her eyes. 

Fuck. She keeps staring, leaning her head forward with a lively smile, her hands behind her back, waiting for you to continue. She talks with childlike passion and energy, “We have an exam in accounting later, did you study for it?”

“N-no,” you say, almost stuttering through the simplest of responses, as though your tongue is wrapped up in itself. It should be embarrassing for you to act this awkwardly in front of a sweet girl like Hanni. Mentally punching yourself to be better. It never happens. “Not exactly, I kinda forgot.”

More like you willingly neglected your studies for a nightlong gaming session. It’s an addiction.

Her eyes widen with amusement, as if she sees through the lie. Does she? You don’t know. Maybe she does. There’s so many layers to her that you never bothered to uncover. That’s the price for your negligence and decision to be a lone-wolf. 

Hanni reaches her hand into the pocket of her dress shirt and presents a folded up sheet of paper. “Then this with you. Just make sure to hide it underneath the test paper, got it?”

From bewilderment to amazement—your face goes through every emotion, unsure of what would perfectly suit the situation. She doesn’t know you well enough to casually entrust you with a cheat sheet, yet she’s perfectly fine handing it to you over her presumed friends, which includes members of the student council. 

Initially, you hesitate, but she’s steadfast in her position, as if you receiving this paper is doing her a favor. You ultimately fold and accept it from her. She grins as you tuck the sheet away in your coat.

“See you later!” she says, before walking past you to her next class. You slowly turn around, watch her leave and rejoin with her friends, one of whom is the student council head. Alone with nothing but your thoughts, you put the strange encounter aside and get moving again.

—————

The next time you see Hanni again is during world history class, right before lunch. Your rather senile professor, who doesn’t give a shit that half the class is either fast asleep, on the verge of, or doing everything else apart from listening to his monotonous lecture, drones on about Napoleon’s European conquest for the second week in a row. Even the patient student that you are, you’ve grown tiresome of it, especially with the dreadful pacing. You’re way behind schedule. At the very least, he seems to be paid well, so there’s a little silver lining.

Looking at her, you wonder if the gods were in a good mood on the day they made her. She’s as enthusiastic about the topic as if it's her first time hearing it. Listening to every single word intently, taking down notes furiously, taking pictures of the presentation even though she has it projected on her laptop because why the fuck not—she was born to be the teacher’s pet. Compare that to half of the class: even the supposed top student in the class is barely struggling to stay awake, clinging to the edges of her seat out of fear she could collapse from sheer boredom. It’s a miracle, really, that there’s at least one student showing this much interest.

The notion creeps up in your mind: Hanni’s right over there, without a care except for the lecture at hand. Your phone rests on the edge of your chair. Her smile, her shine—you want to keep more than just a mental image of her. Something to actively remind you that someone like her exists. It’s creepy, but it doesn’t matter when no one’s looking, especially not her. Only you. 

Little by little your hand crawls toward the phone. Then the moral compass inside you resists. You don’t know this girl—not in the slightest. Just because of a simple kind act doesn’t mean you’re completely smitten over her. Most importantly, you remember one important point about Hanni: she’s not from here. She’s an exchange student with a one year contract set to expire in—wait for it—two weeks. The semester ends before then, and it’s reasonable to assume she’ll be gone from your life just as quickly as she entered it once the page turns.

Right as the inner conflict inside your head reaches a fever pitch, the bell rings. On one side, you’re celebrating this moral victory; on the other, you’re punching a mental wall for not pulling the trigger. Before the professor even realizes the alarm already sounded off, all the students have filed out of the room in quick succession. 

You briefly consider searching for Hanni in the sea of students making their way around the halls, but seeing that she’s disappeared into the crowd, you decide to let her go. Perhaps the logical side of your brain might be telling you the truth: that she will be a mere afterthought to you after today.

But then there’s the unshakeable, unceasing part of you that refuses to give in. Even as you eat lunch at the corner of the cafeteria, you’re still trying to single out Hanni to no avail. A hopeless situation gradually growing worse with each passing hour. 

A not so subtle tap on your shoulder. Look to your side and there’s your angel, appearing at your hour of need. Hanni.

“Hey! Still have the cheat sheet I gave you earlier?” she asks. A few meters behind her is the student council president, Minji, and her secretary, Danielle, engaged in their own conversation, presumably accompanying their friend.

You scramble to find the folded piece of paper somewhere in your bag, forgetting that you’ve tucked the sheet away deep in your coat. Panicked, you jump from your seat to search within your clothes, still unable to detect its tiny presence hiding in your jacket. “Shit—”

“I can give you another copy if you lost it—”

“I’m sure it’s in here somewhere!” you interject, tonally desperate, repeatedly swiping your fingers on the same pockets with no success. 

Eventually, you frisk the deepest pockets of your coat, feeling something rough on the edge of your fingertips. Reeling it out, you present a folded piece of paper in front of her. It should be a small win, but it’s an embarrassing loss, especially right in front of Hanni.

“Good to know you still have it!” she says, grinning from ear to ear. You’re certain she was trying to suppress her chuckle the entire time, and based on her toothy smile, it’s not very difficult to jump to that conclusion. “Even if you didn’t lose it, I still would have given you another copy if you wanted it.”

“Hanni.” You turn to face her, a complete juxtaposition from her jolly, outgoing personality. Your expression looks stern in searching for answers. “Why are you like this? We barely know each other.”

Surprised by your sudden change in attitude, she takes a step back, pausing to contemplate her answer. Her usually bright demeanor gradually changes to reflect yours. Her smile remains, except it's hiding a little gloom, a little concern. “I just wanted to be kind to you. I saw you were struggling in some of the classes we shared and thought you needed some help. It’s only right to do the right thing, you know?”

In that moment, you regret showing a bit of attitude. Hand to your chest, as guilt occupies your heart and mind. “Oh.” You pause, stare back into those wanting eyes. “I-I guess you were really being kind to me, huh?”

“I don’t make fake answer sheets, let alone give them to people I dislike.” She leans forward, causing you to stagger back, bumping your thighs against the cafeteria stool. “And I like you.”

Your mouth gradually opens, trying to figure out what to say, how to react. Only air and silent noises come out. You genuinely have no idea how to respond to this sudden revelation. It’s not like you’re a popular name among the student body, let alone the ladies; if anything, you were mostly a ghost, only coming into light when needed—and in most cases, when the professors would ask you questions about the topic at hand. 

Blinking rapidly, you needed to do a double take. “Say that again?”

“I like you.” She repeats it for you. Twice. With increasing emphasis on those three words to drive the statement home. “I. Like. You.”

Let that sink in. You still don’t know what to say. “I—”

“We can talk about this later in the afternoon. Meet me at Room 204, okay? I’m in a rush and I just wanted to briefly check on you.” You watch her tone revert back to its beaming, bubbly self with each sentence. Before you even have an opportunity to say anything back, she rejoins her friends and walks away again, waving at you while shouting, “Remember what I told you about the cheat sheet!”

—————

Aside from accounting, where you followed Hanni’s advice down to the letter, the rest of the afternoon kept your thoughts mostly preoccupied with Hanni’s departing words. The two classes you shared with her during that period were opportunities to stare at her, watch her from a distance. Three simple words, and yet there’s layers upon layers to uncover. What did she mean when she said them? You barely interacted for most of the semester, yet she still considers you likable. During those long, painful hours of waiting, your curiosity and anticipation slowly built up.

And then, the bell rings at the top of the seventeenth hour. Time to find out.

While students file out in every direction, celebrating their regained freedom, you make your way through Room 204. Peeking from the outside, you see no one inside, not even Hanni. It looks about the same as when you left it—messy. You’re anxious, hesitant, cautious. There’s a part of you that believes she’s merely playing you in front of her friends, and that she might stand you up as a joke. And you have no reason to believe she genuinely likes you, apart from that one simple act of kindness from earlier.  

For the next few minutes, in those crucial moments of waiting, all your thoughts and presumptions begin waging war inside your head. You have one foot on the door, with the other looking to go home. It’s not the first time you’ve been stood up; you can write an entire thesis report going over each terrible experience and the feeling of bitterness and pining that followed. At the very least, should push come to shove, this wouldn’t be the worst of them—not even bottom five.

So you pace back and forth in front of the designated room, look at your phone, followed by your watch. Again and again. Minutes, stretching to hours, into days, into a slow eternity. You’re starting to lose hope.

Which is why when she comes across you in the hallway, you feel like a kid finding love for the first time all over again. You’re not even trying to hide your excitement. The stunned and relieved expression etched on your lips, the growing shade of red across your face, the hitch in your arms as they reach out to her because you couldn’t believe she would follow through on her word—

And when she flashes her toothy smile, her mouth speaking words you end up missing—you just want to take her by the hand and run away with her.

She ends up calling your name. Twice, thrice, a dozen times—you’re not exactly sure, but you can definitely lose yourself to the sight of Hanni’s presence over and over. With a hand held on the door, she’s telling you to join her inside, saying she has something important to share with you. At least that’s the very gist of it.

At her request, you leave your bag on one of the vacant seats; you end up sharing the same chair. The tension is palpable. Hanni paces back and forth in front of the desk, quietly ruminating, hiding her concerned look away from your eyes. A wakeup call for you that this is a serious matter. You have a lot of unanswered questions, but seeing the gravity of the moment, you conclude that it’s better to keep them to yourself a little while longer—at least once all the heavy air has been cleared. You stand there awkwardly, waiting for her to make the first move.

“I just want to say,” she suddenly says, still turned away from you, long streaks of dark hair covering her eyes. What they can’t hide is the frown on her lips. “I’m going to miss this place. All the profs, all the activities, but most importantly, all the people. Including you.”

“Me?” You’re not surprised at that statement; you’ve assumed she wasn’t going to be here for the long haul, considering she’s an exchange student. What does confuse you, is how she specifically singled you out from everyone else. You barely know each other. At best, you only teamed up for two group projects, which she mostly did the carrying for. For you, the bar has been set very, very low. “How come me?”

Hanni finally faces you, using everything in her willpower not to cry. Her usually lively eyes twinkle with tears waiting to be shed, but she refuses. Not even the warmest of her smiles can hide the somber and pained expression she has looking at you. “Most of the boys here are—excuse my language—a bunch of fucking jackasses and perverts.”

Not exactly wrong; if you weren’t part of an athletics club or hanging out at bars after class, you were likely to be one of their victims. You know this because you are numb to their asshole behavior. The girls would usually retreat in a subtle manner once they knew their presence, which wasn’t difficult to pinpoint.

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “You’re right. I hate their guts too—”

“But you’ve been kind to me from the moment I introduced myself, you know?” Hanni begins to walk toward you, rendering you even more frozen in place. “Even our brief good mornings meant quite a lot. It made me feel welcome.”

You didn’t really think much of it, unaware that it would have this profound of an impact in someone else’s life. And why would you—it’s a habit you’ve been taught since when you were seven. For a moment, you’d think she was being very melodramatic, as if she were practicing theater.

“And—” she pauses, takes a deep breath, “Let’s be honest; I know you like me too.”

When she drops those final words, your eyes pop. Wide. Enough to stretch through your forehead and fly up. It leaves you completely paralyzed. A whole truth bomb dropped just like that. She cusps your hands with hers; you freely allow her. Whether it's from utter shock or the desire to hold her like this for so long, you don’t know, but you definitely want to let this moment linger.

“I-I—” 

You can feel her hot breath against yours, her face inching closer, your bodies almost entangling into something passionate and warm. There’s nothing stopping you both from finally bridging the gap that’s been separating you for the longest time. Hanni, the charming, popular girl that everyone either wants to be friends with or to be her, seemingly knows you like a book read from left to right. More importantly, she likes you. Tells it straight to your face. 

Her arms snake around your neck, leaving you even more suffocated. No longer in her grasp, you find your hands pressed around tiny, fit waist. Her glinting eyes encourage you to let those innermost desires run wild. The suppressed thoughts you’ve been hiding slowly pull you under their influence. You shouldn’t be doing this, yet they’re right there: those sweet, puckery, inviting lips, waiting to be marked, yours and yours alone.

Instead, you end up in a tight embrace. It’s not as romantic as you envisioned. If anything, it’s bittersweet. Deep down, this is her way of saying goodbye, and you’re only realizing what this is really all about. An opportunity to bid farewell on amicable terms. It’s almost cruel that your first substantial interaction outside of school-related activities has to be like this.

You hold on to her tighter. She does the same. You’re unwilling to let go. She doesn’t want to, either.

Resting her head on your shoulder, Hanni whispers in your ear the most calming and soothing tone, “I’m going to miss you.” 

You don’t believe you’ve earned the right to say those words back. So the only thing you can do is hold on to her the best you can—for dear life.

Outside, the setting sun is gradually fading away, and so does the natural light it brings. You can stay here, from dusk to dawn, comfortable in this position if she wants to. 

She opens her mouth again, and she continues to hum and speak melodies in your ear. “I have one thing I want to do before saying goodbye. Can you help me?”

Without an ounce of hesitation, you nod, saying, “Anything for you.”

Hanni breaks the bear hug then leads you along with her to the desk. With the other hand, she lifts it back to her waist, placing herself in a new and unexpected position: her back arched against the table, with one knee bent beside yours. Her eyes glinting with utter desire, she couldn’t be any more obvious. 

Before the realization fully dawns on you, she does the unthinkable. 

A simple irresistible kiss, pulling you down by the collar of your coat. Next thing you know, you have Hanni’s back crooked further against the edge of the desk, your lip-lock turning more and more passionate. Nothing overly dramatic and sentimental—only passionate love making.

She wants it. Deep down, you want it too.

“I can’t—” you mutter, drawing your breath, pulling your lips away. But not your hands. It’s in Hanni’s custody now. Your coat halfway down your arms, she sneakily tosses it aside. “Not here.”

Surprised by your sudden change of heart, she leans forward, her fingers now pulling at the hem of your sleeves. “What’s wrong?”

“I mean—look around, Hanni. We’re in a goddamn classroom.” 

If only you could throw your arms around in protest to prove a point, but even that wouldn’t save you now.

“This is what I wanted from the start.” Hanni pulls you back in, her eyes hypnotic and irresistible, shining like gold. “You wanted this, too. Don’t play.”

“Hanni—”

She stops you right in your tracks with an impulsive peck on the lips. Curling them through the kiss to form a smile, she murmurs, “Don’t think, just do.”

And you do just that. Kiss her, make out with her as if your life depended on it.

Hanni’s lips taste like they’re meant for you. Sweet like honey. Divine. Heavenly. If it were possible, you’d want to choke on your own breath holding onto them for dear life. Not to mention the hums coming out of her mouth, those subdued mewls that she releases whenever you bite on her bottom lip—you can’t help but sink back in whenever you consider the thought of letting go.

There’s no reason not to; you have this pretty little thing, Hanni Pham, all to yourself. Even your body knows how rare of an opportunity this is. With one hand quietly slipping between her pencil skirt, you navigate your way to the depths of her heat without breaking the kiss. In a flash, she throws her head back, snapping her mouth wide at the new sensation. All that cool, calm expression, gone in an instant.

“Fuck—”

“God, Hanni. You’re so wet.” 

She grabs your wrist—that mischievous hand newly buried in her pussy—and urges you further, “Keep doing that. That felt so good.”

And God, does everything about finger fucking her feel incredible. The satisfying squelch of her cunt as your digits press against her warmth, the continuous twisting of her features as she crumbles from the pleasure, leaving her neck exposed for your lips to newly conquer, adding to the overwhelming sensations coursing all over Hanni’s body. Seeing her, this usually larger than life figure, fall under your spell pushes you even further. 

Like Hanni, you’re still young; there’s only pleasure and the thrill of moving too fast and reckless. One day you’ll end up regretting this, ruminating over memories that could ultimately end you before you even started, but you’d rather take this memento than leave with nothing at all. 

You’re both already past the point of no return. Hanni’s underwear hangs casually between her ankles while they’re wrapped around your waist, her neck filled with bite marks and deep shades of red that no piece of fabric can hide. Her dress shirt is partially unbuttoned, revealing a white camisole desperately seeking to be removed, and if that wasn’t enough, she’s made the crucial decision not to wear a bra today.

Fuck, that bulging ache in your pants is so agitating—both physically and mentally. 

“Wait,” you say, suddenly turning around and locking the door quickly, letting her panties fall freely to the floor. It proves to be a little struggle when you unknowingly use your slick-coated hand over your dry one. 

“Should have done that first,” she playfully chides, chuckling at you.

Returning to her with your drenched fingers pointed in the direction of her pussy, you respond, “Should have chosen anywhere but the classroom.”

“You’re saying you’d rather do this during our Christmas party?” Hanni lifts an eyebrow, taunting.

“Only if they allowed it.”

“And all those cheat sheets I handed you, all that for nothing?”

“Shut up. Didn’t need them, anyway.”

Hanni can’t help but burst into boisterous laughter. There’s no use locking that door now.

Even with the little time spent together, there’s clearly magic between you, the signs of what should have been a beautiful relationship. If only you both knew that. But now’s not the time to go over what ifs—only what’s next.

She stops you right as you ready yourself, grabbing the top button of your shirt. Using only her expressive eyes for approval, you steadily watch on till they’re completely undone. You’re left with the job of removing your undershirt and helping her toss your clothes aside. On the other hand, you’re in no rush to undress her completely; she’s a perfect mess as is with her unbuttoned uniform, her panties somewhere between your feet, and her taut nipples poking through the fabric. 

And Hanni wants it that way. You’ve barely entertained the idea of running your fingers through her skirt when she interrupts your train of thought. 

“You haven’t done it yet,” she says looking at your greedy, grubby hands, directing them with hers underneath her garment. “Make me cum. Please.”

As if you had any other intention. Maybe with something better, but that’s usually saved later—and for good reason.

You’re trying so hard not to curse through gritted teeth. Fuck. This. Damned. Skirt. Admittedly, it’s cute and perfectly suits Hanni; it adds to the appeal of seeing this usually meek, well behaved student asking for something more than naughty—it’s downright criminal—but you need to see what makes her really tick. Hanni’s clicking her tongue, growing more frustrated by the second than you are, anxiously waiting for you to come through. Carefully, you push a finger into her, then another, moving in delicate and systemic motion.

Then, it all clicks in perfect harmony:

She releases this pent-up moan from the depths of her chest, as though it were a heave of relief. The initial plunge from earlier makes plunging between her slick folds so much easier. You take a moment to let the satisfying sound sink in: the wet slop of her cunt as it reflexes against your fingers, unable to keep yourself from moaning with delight before you slowly draw back, then in again. 

From there, everything takes care of itself.

Hanni dissolves into a whimpering mess, under the hypnotic spell of your fingers fucking her pussy in tempered, intricate strokes, effortlessly and handily. Body shaking, desk quivering under the pressure of her weight, her hands struggling to find reprieve from the overwhelming sensations thundering all over her. She can barely breathe, let alone find the words to speak. Only quick curses. Each and every word so gratifying to hear.

“Fuck—fuck—its—its—so—good—more—”

You don’t give her any breathing room. In the brief moments when you lax, with your fingers either motionless deep within her cunt or pull back, leaving marks on her inner thighs with her own slick, you’re all over her, gently fondling her and kissing her. Half her uniform’s sleeve has fallen down her shoulder, giving you more of her body for you to claim as your own. With every little touch and thing you do, you continue to set her nerves ablaze with nothing to quench her lust.

It’s no wonder she’s such a teacher’s pet; she loves to follow along without any resistance or objection. A fact proven when you lift her undershirt to expose her taut nipples, and your free hand impulsively takes them. You give her left tit a twist, and from her needy lips comes a sharp whine. 

“Do it again,” she says, panting, nodding her head wildly, visibly overwhelmed. She doesn’t know what hit her, but it feels fucking amazing.

Of course, you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity, even if she hadn’t asked. Hanni’s body, all yours for the taking. Not everyone can say they fucked the top girl in the class in the classroom of all places.

And you let your body do all the talking. No amount of words nor their depth can adequately describe the sensation of tasting and feeling her figure. First your free fingers, then your tongue—they make their mark on her chest while your other digits crawl to a lazy pace inside her cunt. Not that she minds—she’s too engrossed in the blissful sensation to remotely care. Her hands find their way around your neck and back, scratching and digging away at your skin in an attempt to pull you even closer.

It aches—but not as much as the ache in Hanni’s core. As you inch her closer to climax, you can feel her tremble, propping her head on your shoulder now as her outlet, whimpering, crying, mewling. “Almost—” she mumbles, before she’s caught up again in the sea of her own pleasure. Knowing this, the rest of your body moves like it’s second nature. Faster and deeper, you continue your endless assault on her body, until—

Suddenly, Hanni freezes up, moans over your ear as a moment of silent calm follows. In the succeeding moments, you both remain clung together as her orgasm hits. And by god, it hits her like lightning. Sharp and brutal. Fingers stuck deep in her core as she gushes, quivers all over them. It lingers, leaves you both incapacitated.

Minutes that could easily stretch into hours, stuck on a desk, basking in the afterglow of unadulterated bliss. Eventually, she lifts up her head and lets out a deep breath of relief. Her hands remain entangled with your hair as she pulls herself back. A scope down gives you a short but telling extent of the damage: copious amounts of slick dripping on the edge of the table, down to the floor. You’re a little terrified of what your fingers will look like.

Through half-lidded eyes, Hanni flashes you a smile as she slowly realizes the mess she has become. Cheeks flustered with embarrassment, she quickly pushes down her undershirt, but they can’t hide her nipples’ rigidness. You’re both grinning at each other like mischievous pranksters. Something tells you that despite everything, it’s not enough. The fire in her eyes and the confidence in her laugh says it all: she’s looking for more trouble, and one way or another, you’re gonna be her accomplice.

Before you can even utter a word, you both hear a knock on the door. Through the casted silhouette, you recognize that it’s a janitor. Spent energy be damned, you’re brought back to reality. You quickly turn to Hanni in a state of alarm, “Shit. I told you not told to do this in the classroom—”

Reaching out her hand, she replies, “It’s gonna be fine! Give me my bag and I’ll get us out of this.” 

You immediately rush Hanni her bag, and while you hastily put yourself back in one piece, she grabs a pack of tissues to clear all evidence of your little escapade. In no time, you’ve somehow returned the place in nearly the same position you found it. Only one difference: her panties are left on the floor, and she hasn’t bothered to pick them up.

“Wait, your underwear—” you tell her as you pick them off the floor. She’s already on the edge of the classroom, opening up one of the windows to escape. It’s not a suicide jump; only someone with brittle bones could possibly break their legs doing the drop, and there’s really no other choice: run away with her or find yourself at the dean’s office on your first day back after the holidays.

“Keep it if you want.” Hanni shoots you a playful wink and a cheeky grin as she lifts one leg over the open window. “We don’t have much time, so unless you wanna explain yourself to the profs—”

“I’m already in trouble regardless,” you reply as you join her on the way out. You didn’t need to think about what to do. “Got eight missed phone calls from my fam. I’m fucked regardless. Might as well make the most of our time while we’re here.”

—————

A/N: Happy new year! I never thought I’d write something for NewJeans, but never say never. Hanni was easily the scene stealer for me at the Asia Artist Awards, she and the other members constantly waved at us from beginning to end, and they were killer performers! I can see why she’s so adored; she’s both talented and adorable. It’s been difficult getting back into writing after one month away, so this definitely is a feel-out attempt, but I hope it’s still good anyway. Here’s to the coming year and hopefully more to come. Thanks for reading!

P.S. I sincerely want to take this moment to apologize for my slow production. As previously mentioned, I got hit with a severe case of the flu, which kept me down for almost two weeks. Since recovering, I’ve been experiencing weird cases of brain fog, where sometimes my mind ‘isn’t there’ and it feels like my body’s been moving on autopilot. I’ve been getting healthier since then, but the so-called absentmindedness still remains. I’ve tried writing a few times since then, and it honestly feels like I’ve forgotten how to write. Hell, this fic was supposed to be out on Christmas day and I’ve struggled to put it together! It’s been very rough. I don’t wanna make promises because I’ll just end up breaking them, so I’ll just say that I’m trying my damned hardest to get back to that level I had been moving before my momentum stalled. I always want to deliver the best possible fic for you to enjoy. Thank you so much for being patient with me as always <3

[cosmopretty]

Please do one where Paige finds out the reader has a praise kink and it’s gets hot. Do whatever you want with the plot

Good Girl

Paige Bueckers x fem smut

✦•〰〰〰〰〰〰•★•〰〰〰〰〰〰•✦

You’ve been dating Paige for almost a year now, she was the sweetest most caring girlfriend you have ever had in the bedroom and out of it. She is so protective and caring for you, she is always doing things for you as an act of service.

You’re sitting in the living room with Paige and a few of her teammates watching Scream five together. Azzi looks at you pouting “Can you please get me some water? Please” she asks you before Paige slaps her shoulder “Get it yourself lazy bum” she says.

You shrug “I’ll get it lazy Azzi” you get up going to the fridge grabbing a bottle of water for Azzi, and some coke for Paige. You hope down on the couch and hand them their drinks “Your so sweet” Paige says kissing you head before wrapping her arm around you like before. Her words went straight down to your core, you always had a thing for being praised but you didn’t tell Paige you thought it was embarrassing.

KK groans “This is boring let’s watch something else” she complains for the thousandth time. Everyone looks at her and you shrug “Yeah it is I’ve watched it before like twice” you say aloud. KK points at your shaking her head “See let’s go play basketball a game losers have to clean the whole dorm” she says shrugging her shoulders. Everyone looks at each other nodding “Okay but we have two captains I say it’s Paige and KK since it was KK’s idea for this” Ice says.

Both Paige and KK stand up and do rock paper scissors to see who gets first pick. Kamora wins and points at Azzi “Your on my team Az” she smirks as Azzi walks up next to her. Paige immediately looks at you and grabs your hand pulling you into her side “My girl on my team” she states. You look at her shocked and move away from her “I don’t play basketball I manage the team I’m not bouta get crushed when one of you giraffes fall on top of me” you state before crossing your arms shaking your head. Paige shrugs “Nope you’re playing” she says dragging you next to her while KK choses her next pick. The teams are Team 1, which is KK, Azzi, Ice, Yanna, and Team 2 is Paige , you, Nika, Jana.

You all go down to the court and you sigh and look up at Paige “Come on please I don’t wanna play” you whine. She kisses your forehead “Please do it for me” she puts and you nod slowly, still not sure of this. She cheers and drags you towards her team, KK raises her arms and yells “FIRST TEAM TO TEN POINTS WINS” everyone nods agreeing with her.

The game starts and Paige gets the ball dribbling back and forth before throwing it to Nika who shoots a two pointer. The team cheers as KK groans, the serve is the ball and Jana dribbles before Azzi steals the ball from her and shoots a three after a minute of dribbling back and forth while Paige tries to steal the ball from her. The game goes on for a while before it’s 9 to 9 next point wins the game. You haven’t really done anything but watch and run back and forth. KK dribbles the ball before you steal it from her and hold it not moving “What do I do?” you ask scared. Paige yell from across the court “Just shoot baby” you nod and shoot and somehow score a three against everyone’s expectations.

Paige yells and grabs you holding your up in the air spinning your around before putting you back “Good girl baby” she whispers. You look down a blush covering your cheeks and she squints her eyes “What?” She asks. You shrug and walk away leaving her confused KK groans and leans on you “This is not fair you don’t even play” she complains before groaning.

Everyone starts walking down to the dorm room and KK, Azzi, Ice and Yanna start cleaning the living room complaining every five minutes.

You sit on Paige’s bed playing with your fingers while she changes, she turns and looks at you “What happened why you get all shy on me?” she says walking up to you tilting your chin to look up at her. You shrug “No reason Paige forget it” you say sternly.

Paige pushes you down on the bed and starts kissing your neck “Nuh uh tell me baby” she says kissing right under your ear softly. Your thighs squeeze together under her while she counties her assault on your neck “Is it cuz I said you’re a good girl huh baby you like that” you accidentally let out a noah at her words. She moves her head from your neck and looks at you “You like being praised? That makes so much sense now” she says smiling ear to ear.

This is one of the most embarrassing things that have happened, you cover your with your hands “Shut up” you mumble. Paige shakes her head no “It’s okay baby I promise wanna be good girl for me” she teases you.

“Yeah I’ll be so good for you Paige” you say and she smirks flipping you both over so your straddling her waist. You bite your lip and look at her “What do you want Paigey?” you ask her. She smirks pushing your body down so your laying on top of her “Put that mouth to good use baby” she says before grabbing the back of you head. You move down her body kissing her abs before moving down to her legs and pulling her shorts and boxers down.

You kiss the inside of her thighs before licking a stripe up her folds. She groans and pulls on your hair you take that as a sign to start licking at her clit. You lick up and down her clit as she moans “Your doing so good baby” she praises you. You slide your tongue inside of her and she moan gripping your hair harder. You move your hand to slide two fingers inside of her. Paige’s other hand squeezes the bed frame as she moans, her abs flexing as the feeling of her stomach that she is going to cum comes back.

You move your fingers inside of her still licking and biting at her clit “Good girl you’re so good my best girl” she moans out squeezing around your fingers.

Curling your fingers inside of her she moans looking down at you as you lift your head from her pussy. You kiss and bite all over her abs as your fingers speed up inside of her. She grabs your chin bringing you to kiss her as she moans “I’m gonna cum baby” she says after pulling away from the kiss.

“Come on Paigey come for me” you tell her curling your fingers once more inside of her as she comes all over them. She moans out of breath and you slide your fingers out of her and bring them to your mouth sucking her juices off of them.

Paige laughs and brings one of her hands to pet your head “You did so good such a good girl” she smirks seeing your blush at her words.

You shove her and lay your head on her chest “Stop Paige” you say your voice soft. Paige laughs again “Fuck no I’m using this against you all the time if it means you fuck me like that” she smirks and you lift your head to look at her rolling your eyes. Before pulling her into a long kiss.

[kiachiako]

september nct recs

my library of favorites from SEPTEMBER <3 all creds to authors

[ sorted by word count ]

series

[m] HAECHAN | settle down pt. 1 | pt. 2 | @hyuckmov — rockstar!hyuck, genre: angst, smut (18+ minors dni), fluff

oneshots

[m] MARK | sweet cream, cold brew | @lucyandthepen 26.4k — something about mark lee keeps you up at night, and you’re pretty sure that it isn’t the lingering smell of espresso on his shirt.

[m] MARK | my little doll | @haechansdoll 20k — Humans have hormones, you understand that much. But does that explain why you can't stop the filthy daydreams that fill your head whenever you see a specific redhead? Does it excuse you for getting turned on by him simply breathing in your direction? And to make matters worse, he is off-limits, if your father found out you were messing with his prized boxer? You would be chained to a tower and your red-haired crush would be used as mincemeat.

HAECHAN | one, two, three | @cherryeoniis 19k — In which you devise three different ways to get your best friend to fall in love with you, but things never really go quite as planned.

[m] JENO | summer hair = forever young | @setsugekka 18.1k — Only three weeks after being broken up with by your long time partner, you’re dragged along for your friends summer vacation plans despite your best attempts at staying home to do little more than feel sorry for yourself. Day one? Dinner and a movie. Day two? The bar down the street that smells like old socks. Day three? Well, that’s the waterpark, and the cute, blonde lifeguard that seems to make the lazy river his mainstay is a bit of a sight for sore eyes.

JAEMIN | written in ink | @cherryeoniis 15.3k — professor!jaemin, historical au (early 19th century), fluff, angst, strangers to lovers

[m] MARK | watch me | @sluttyten 14.6k — you pick up the voyeuristic habit of watching your neighbor that never closes his curtains and whose face you never see. on an unrelated note, you start dating the cute barista from down the street that also happens to live in the building across from yours. what could happen?

TAEIL | in earnest | @neonun-au 12k — a letter written in haste when you were fifteen and in love with your best friend gets sent out in the dawn of your engagement. when a reply is sent, revealing feelings you had long thought forgotten, you are left with a choice to make amidst a rather awkward visit. 

[m] JENO | fight club | @tyonfs 11.9k — after park jisung introduces you to his shady after-school activity, you realize it’s far too dangerous to be involved with the underground fight club in any way. their members are rough around the edges—except for lee jeno, who keeps you coming back for more.

MARK | a series of white lies | @tyonfs 10.5k — in which it takes you six years to accept that you’re in love with mark lee. (it takes him one.)

HAECHAN | wicked games | @cherryeoniis 10.1k — angst, fluff, suggestive, university! au, friends with benefits, fuckboy! haechan

MARK | baseball (& other disasters) | @tqmies 10k — Everyone admired Mark Lee, starting pitcher of your school’s baseball team and famed ladies man. You, on the other hand, only know him as the boy who broke your dorm lobbies microwave the first time you met.

[m] JAEHYUN | dive | @yougotthatbilly 9.2k — frat boy!Jaehyun: Jaehyun calls shotgun.

[m] RENJUN | high-waisted shorts | @tyonfs 7.8k — huang renjun might be the least committed to all this “bitch hunting” bullshit, and he doesn’t want to stoop to the level of stupidity his friends are at. that’s why he’s pissed when you’re strutting around in those high waisted shorts wherever you go, making renjun lose all sense of reason.

[m] JAEMIN | blur | @jaeminvore 7.5k — Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face and hungover was one thing. Waking up to the sunlight blazing onto your face, hungover and in a bed that wasn’t your own in nothing but a pair of sweatpants that were obviously not yours, was another and a punishment specifically made for you—your own personal hell.

[m] JAEHYUN | racer | @smileysuh 6.7k — street racer!Jaehyun, star-crossed lovers, secret relationship, step-brother!Johnny

[m] HAECHAN | tattoos together | @cherryeoniis 5.4k — rockstar!haechan x reader

[m] DOYOUNG | hungry for you | @sluttyten 4.9k — doyoung is your best friend’s older brother, and you hate each other until one evening you’re alone together and the tension finally breaks

HAECHAN | dance to this | @cherryeoniis 3.8k — dancer! haechan x dancer! reader, university au, slight enemies to lovers

. . .

drowning in college rn :((

xoxo <3

[loveshotzz]

I guess it’s never really over

mechanic!steve harrington x fem!reader exes to lovers

chapter two -

I might kill my ex, not the best idea

Eddie warned Robin that a game of never have I ever was a bad idea, and you should know better than to go snooping where you don’t belong.

warnings: 18+ drinking, smoking (hey it’s a summer time barbecue in the midwest), you thought there was a lot tension the last chapter? baby, you haven’t seen nothing yet. jealousy, spicy things are revealed about all of them during a drinking game.

wc: 9.5k

series masterlist | series playlist

June -

It’s been one week.

One entire week without even so much of a glimpse of that permanently messy head of hair, and god, you hated how much it bothered you. Ears perking up every time you’d catch the cadence of his voice through the receiver of Robin’s cordless phone the few times he called her to check in. Like an unwanted guest who wasn’t taking the hint, his broad shoulders and full pink lips that somehow always look like they need to be kissed haunt your unsuspecting dreams at night. 

You hate it, you hate him, and you try not to spiral about why it feels like the opposite.

“We’re going over to Steve’s tonight,” Robin practically hums around a mouthful of fruit loops, completely unaware of you already stewing about the boy whose name just rolled off her tongue this early in the morning. 

“What?” You snap, tearing your eyes from the slow pour of the coffee maker in front of you, grouchy and wound up from a dream about his big hands pulling your legs apart so perfect white teeth could nip at the inside of your thighs.

“Steve, you know that guy you told me you’d try and be nice to. The one who’s fixing your car?” Sarcasm drips from her tone as she scoops up another bite, “We’re going to his house.”

Of course.

“That’s cool with me.” You muster up enough effort to twist your lips up into a smile that feels more like a grimace. The smashed rainbow Robin reveals in her mouth when she laughs tells you it is.

“Do me a favor, and never go into acting.” Swallowing loudly, she drops her spoon back into her bowl with a clank. “I do appreciate you trying to pretend like you’re okay with it, though, and in all seriousness, we haven’t gone this long without seeing each other in like, forever. He says you're keeping me hostage.”

“I’m keeping you hostage?!” You scoff with a roll of your eyes, turning your back to finally pour yourself the cup of coffee you’ve waited so patiently for. “He’s the best friend stealer.”

“I’m not going to lie, I think I like you two fighting over me,” she laughs, looking a little too smug for your liking as she brings her empty bowl to the sink, Garfield slippers scuffling across the tile, too lazy to pick up her feet from the floor.

“Yeah, 'cause you’re sick.” A real smile curls up into your cup, inhaling the rich scent into your nose. “What are your plans to torture me with his presence this time?” 

Robin narrows her stare at you in a silent warning, pulling herself up to sit on the counter, orange cat covered feet dangling freely as you meet her gaze with softened eyes in a silent apology.

“Eddie’s off tonight, so we’re having a little reunion barbecue, and Steve’s gonna grill.”

Choking on your coffee, you sputter your sip back into your mug, turning her freckled face sour.

“Since when does Steve know how to cook, let alone grill?”

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you know you’re skating on thin ice, but all the built up tension that tightens your muscles, and buzzes incessantly at your fingertips makes everything feel impossible to control.

“He’s not seventeen anymore - “

“Really? He had me fooled shoving his tongue down some pretty blonde’s throat at Rick’s the other night.” 

“That’s - come on, you know that's not fair. He didn’t even know -”

”Why stop at just the four of us, let’s invite Vickie, make it a real party.”

The name of your best friend’s ex leaves your mouth before you can stop it, instant regret making a heavy home in your chest that feels like it might cave in when her mood shifts with glassy eyes and it’s completely your fault.

“I take back what I said, I need you to start acting again.”

Jumping off the counter, you set your mug down so you can grab her arm before she can take those few steps out of the kitchen. 

“Hey! Look, I’m sorry, I’ll stop.” 

She doesn’t put up much of a fight, even though you deserve it, the blue in her eyes turn to ice when she looks at you.

“I’m sorry.”

She holds your stare until she can tell you actually mean it, melting glaciers with a heavy sigh. 

“It’s fine, I get it.” 

Her words come out soft, just like the lines that smooth on her face.

“I know this is weird and like totally against friend code or whatever, but I think that just goes to show how much he must mean to me or even a testament to how much he’s changed if I’m even asking you to just try and do this. Just try, that’s all.”

“No, you’re right,” you fluster, doing your best to reassure her in a shaky voice, “I just slept badly and had a really weird dream. It just threw me off a little. I’m being so awful and I’m sorry.” 

Flashes of the way his hands gripped your hips and the dirty things he whispered in your ear has your palms start to sweat, making you loosen your grip on her arm before she can notice. 

Robin searches your face for the reassurance that she needs before a small smile finally tugs at the corners of her lips.“This is why you’re my best friend.” She pulls you into a tight hug, wrapping her arms around your neck.

“Only if you tell him that.” 

Snaking your arms around her waist, you let out a shaky laugh, silently preparing to see the man who hasn’t left the crevices of your mind since you stepped foot back in Hawkins.

———

It feels like you’re back in high school the way you can’t stop looking at yourself in the mirror, the nerves still feel the same.

Your gaze wanders up and down your reflection, turning from side to side, overly critical eyes take in your curves that are on display a little more than normal and you wonder if Robin will notice. Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, better yet you wonder if Robin will notice and have something to say about it. 

“You’re certainly spending a lot of time on an outfit.” Your best friend whistles low as she leans against the open bedroom door confirming your fears with a cross of her arms.

“Just trying to remember what I brought is all.” You don’t engage with the amusement that hides in her tone, smoothing down the short black skirt that flares over the tops of your thighs, before adjusting the straps on your matching tank top.

“Riiiight,” she snorts, earning the kind of glare that has her raising her hands in defense before a shit-eating grin cracks wide across her face. “I’m going to need you to hurry up, though. Do I need to remind you that we’re walking?”

“I’m done!” You huff, sock covered feet digging into her cream carpet as you make your way toward her, “I just need to put on my shoes.”

“You’ve got twenty secon-” she agonizes before three hard knocks on her front door cut her off. Her cheshire smile falters as she turns confused.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get to finish that sentence,” you warn in a harsh whisper, grabbing your Converse that had been haphazardly kicked off earlier in the corner. 

Robin puts a ringed finger to her lips, like the possibility of a kidnapper being on the other side is extremely probable, and it’s her turn to glare when you roll your eyes at her dramatics. Following her out to the living room, you plop down on the couch, watching her slowly creep to the front door. Both her hands find the blue painted wood pushing up on the toes of her Reeboks to look out the peephole.

“Steve?!” 

The name makes your stomach flip, a shaky breath pushing its way through watermelon flavored lips because you thought you had more time than this. Keeping a poker face, you take your time tying your laces as she swings the door open. Head down, your eyes keep their focus on how the dirty white strings move between your fingers. 

You’re not ready to look at him. Not yet.

“After taking you to school at 7am every day after I graduated, you really thought I was going to let you walk?” The smile in his voice is evident, a fond memory you’re not a part of but you can still feel the warmth inside it by the way he speaks. 

“Thank god,” she starts, the insinuation of the words that are going to follow making your eyes snap up, narrowed and shooting daggers at your best friend, catching Steve’s attention in the process. 

“We were going to be late.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, his gaze claiming yours and holding it against your will, the beginnings of a smirk playing on his full lips and suddenly it’s so much warmer in her living room than it was two seconds ago. “Why’s that?”

He somehow looks even better than the last time you saw him, a bad habit you’re quickly learning that he has. The honey colored tips of his chestnut hair curl at the ends, sticking out of the sides of his backwards baseball hat. A well worn black cotton shirt with the sleeves cut out has the arms that you’d dreamt about on full display. The summer sun somehow dotting even more freckles across his shoulder blades that flex everytime he spins his car keys around his finger. The dark cherry red basketball shorts he wears hit the bottoms of his hairy thighs, the red mesh even more vibrant against his tan skin, just like the white leather of the Nike Cortez’s that cover his feet. 

“She’s just being dramatic,” you grumble, finally tearing your eyes from the dark moss that covers the chocolate inside his, doing your best to ignore the heat of them wandering the bare skin of your legs as you finish tying your shoes.

“You changed your outfit like sixty times!” 

This is the moment that you decide you’re going to kill Robin in her sleep tonight.

“Well, I’m ready so you both can stop being annoying now.” Standing, you tug down the bottom of your skirt that suddenly feels even shorter with his full attention on you like this.

“Wait, why am I annoying? I just got here.” Steve argues when your words finally sink in, snapping him out of his daze, catching the keys in his palm. 

“You’re always annoying, Harrington,” you sigh, hoping your deflections are working, but the small smile that never leaves his lips tells you it’s not.

“Shotgun!” Robin calls out like it’s something you would have argued over. Your shoulder brushes with his as you push your way out the door, sending sparks to the tips of your fingers and making your hair stand on end. Steve and the summer heat warm your skin. 

“It’s all yours,” you concede with ease, ignoring the butterfly wings that wreak havoc in your rib cage when the spice of his cologne makes its way into your nose.

It was going to be a night.

Steve keeps the windows rolled down, the muggy air making your bare thighs stick together and to the hot leather of his backseat. It drowns out the music as he speeds down the back roads, making the conversation between him and Robin upfront almost inaudible.

You don’t worry about what they might be saying, not even when they both start gesturing wildly with their hands. Taking advantage of the time left alone, you put all of your focus into preparing yourself for the next few hours, doing your best to push the lingering thoughts of your dream deep down to a place that no one can find. A task that proves to be much harder while avoiding his gaze that dares you to meet it in the rear view mirror the entire way. 

The memories you have of the back of his car don’t help either.

Pulling into Forest Hills trailer park, you’re surprised at the facelift they finally gave it after all these years. Lush green grass grows where the yellow and brown shrub used to be, and a wooden gazebo that looks like it’s missing a finishing coat stands tall, replacing the picnic table where you and the metal head used to smoke. Even the gravel that paves the road looks new and gray, not the dirt brown mud that it used to be. 

It’s still a struggle to wrap your head around the fact that Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington, the former king of Hawkin’s and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson not only work together, but live together too. You would have laughed in anyone’s face if they told you this five years ago. 

The BMW’s tires crunch loudly against the rocks as Steve pulls into the driveway of a hunter green trailer. It sits in the back of the park, almost touching the edge of the woods behind it. A faded white line running along the length that matches the metal railing of their front entrance and the overhang that covers it. The paint peels from parts of the metal in the heat, revealing spots of the gray hidden underneath. A worn in deep maroon couch sits on the porch just like the dirty brown one at Wayne’s trailer, and you already know Eddie spends his mornings there. You internally groan when you catch yourself wondering if Steve does too.

“Home sweet home,” he hums, cutting the engine off and pulling you out of your thoughts. 

You dare to meet his eyes for the first time since you left the apartment when Robin jumps out of the front seat, and you immediately regret it. He smiles wide, finally catching your attention, those perfect white teeth baring themselves at you as he pulls off his hat to run a hand through his sweaty bed head. The long strand he’s always at battle with falls through the opening in the back when he puts it on again, because, of course it does.

“Good to see you finally slumming it with the rest of us, King Steve,” you snort, pulling on the handle to let yourself out, ending any chance of conversation.

If it wasn’t for your Eddie barreling out of the front door to greet you and Robin with a big dimpled grin and a freshly rolled joint, you would’ve thought a little harder about the way Steve winced at the nickname.

The Munson/Harrington Bachelor pad anomaly isn’t exactly what you expected it to be, but even then you weren’t entirely sure what that was. It’s cozy just like how Wayne’s used to be but where there’s hand me downs that have been through the short line of Munson men’s hands, there’s an equal amount of obviously perfectly well kept new. Like the shiny big TV in the center of their living room, and the well-loved lazy boy in front of it, that still had cigarette burns from its previous owner, next to the rich tan leather couch right by it.

It smells like it has just been cleaned, a sanitizing lilac still lingering in the air, trying its best to cover the smell of all grease stained clothing in their hampers and the smoke from joints like the one Eddie’s about to put out in an ashtray full of ones just like it.

He sits at the head of the table with a lopsided grin that pushes up the apples of his cheeks and reveals the deep dimples in the center of them. Droopy lids frame his bloodshot eyes that meet your own. Orange and pinks paint the darkening sky through the sliding glass door behind him. 

“I still can’t believe you’re actually here,” Eddie chuckles with a fond glint in big brown eyes leaning back in his chair that squeaks under the redistribution of his weight.

“Back by popular demand,” you smirk, pointing at Robin, who sits just on the other side of the table, glassy eyed with an unwavering smile. 

You try to ignore how the empty chair next to her bothers you, or they way your eyes keep looking toward the kitchen through the small opening of their little island, giving you the perfect view of Steve prepping dinner. His thick eyebrows are furrowed as he digs through spice racks and drawers, front teeth digging into the plushness of his bottom lip deep in thought.

“I think this calls for a fire,” Eddie announces loudly, bringing you back to the conversation with a slap of his palms on the wood of the table and the kind of smirk that tells you that you’ve been caught.

“We told Janice next door weekends only after last time,” Steve’s voice startles you, making his presence known, leaning against the wall with crossed arms. 

“It’s Thursday. Practically the weekend. Besides it’s a special occasion, look who’s here Stevie boy.” Something in Eddie’s tone makes Steve’s eyes narrow in a silent threat that only makes the metal heads' lips twist up into something more devilish. 

“You have to put it out before bed then, I’m not dealing with it like last time.” Steve accepts defeat quicker than anticipated, “And if she calls or comes over to complain at all, that's all on you too.”

”Deal,” Eddie agrees with five fingers across his heart, the silver of his rings catching in the low light of their trailer.“I think she’s got a crush on me anyway.”

“She’s married,” Steve dead pans with a deep sigh, taking his hat off to run another hand through his hair and you hate the way it has your thighs meeting under the table. “Who’s helping me with dinner then?”

He knows better than to look at you, so his gaze falls onto his roommate and best friend.

”Don’t look at me!” Robin argues, raising her right hand to show off the faded scar on her palm. “Last time I tried to help, I had to get stitches, remember?”

”The fire’s a full time job I’m afraid,” Eddie shrugs, standing up. Not missing a beat, they both look at each other like they're in on some secret that you and Steve aren’t apart of before their eyes land on you.

”You know I’m not a good cook,” you whine, refusing to meet the heat of Steve’s stare that burns against the side of your face.

”I’m sure Steve’s more than willing to help teach you, princess.” Eddie grins, and it makes you want to slap the dimples clean off his face.

“It’s fine, I’ll be fine, I can do it by myself,” Steve interjects with a sigh before you have a chance to respond with something that he knows will just egg the metal head on and get his ego even more bruised.

He’s not expecting the way your eyes snap to his, or the way they narrow with something fiery deep inside them.

”We’re grown adults, Steve. I think I can handle helping you cut some vegetables or whatever it is you need me to do.” Standing up with a shove of your chair, he doesn’t even attempt to argue about how that’s the exact opposite of what you just said.

”There we go! Problem solved.” Eddie’s grin is mischievous, and so is the wink he throws at his roommate before opening the sliding glass door, ushering Robin out and leaving you both alone.

The tension inside the kitchen hangs thicker in the air than the humidity outside weighing down your shoulders, making the words stick in the back of your throat as you try to navigate the close proximity to Steve. Neither one of you is sure of what to say first, and the sound of Eddie and Robin laughing outside filling the silence between you somehow makes it worse. 

The weed twists the knots in your stomach tighter, and the cedar that always seems to linger whenever he’s around turns suffocating without an escape. You lean against the sink across from him while he digs through the icebox in the fridge. Shoulder blades moving with the motions of his wrist, plastic crinkling loudly every time he moves a bag out of the way. Muttering to himself, you watch goosebumps rise on his tan skin from the cool air, muscles twitching from the shock.

This was a mistake. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tear your eyes away in hopes it will stop the dull ache between your legs from getting worse when you’re brought back to the way those same arms caged you in while his hips pushed you deeper into the mattress in your dreams last night. Looking out the small window at the beginning flames of the bonfire, a shaky breath pushes past your glossed lips, and you wipe your palms on your skirt before turning around to wash your hands.

”You don’t have to help, you know?” His voice comes out just loud enough for you to hear over the running water, the small smacking sound of the fridge closing behind it, “If you’re that uncomfortable, I can do it.”

Cutting the water, you shake your hands in the sink before tearing off a paper towel from the roll next to you. Working up enough courage to finally turn around to look at him, you finish drying your hands with a softer expression.

”No, I can help.” 

He holds your stare, silently giving you another out while his fingers make quick work of unwrapping a head of lettuce, an onion, and a few peppers from their plastic confines. No matter how much you want to look away, you don’t, standing firm in your choice despite everything inside of you screaming to run away, and it’s enough for him to nod his head. The slight twitch of his lips while he rolls the bags in his hands doesn’t go unnoticed.

“I just need you to cut the onion into thin slices for the burgers, and same with the jalapeños.” He instructs, turning his back to you to throw away the wrappings. 

The sudden movement has the deep cut sleeves of his shirt fluttering open, giving you a glimpse of the thick patch of hair on his chest, and how it tapers off and down past his belly button. Your thighs find each other again, and you look up to the ceiling silently, trying to regain all the strength you thought you’d just found. 

“And the lettuce - uhh, are you okay?” Steve’s confusion makes all the blood in your body rush to the apples of your cheeks as you try to hide your internal struggle with a smile.

“Yeah, we’re good. Never been better. Wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you ramble, brushing past him to the station he’s set up for you.

“…Right,” he starts with a pause before choosing to leave it alone, “I just need you to kind of rip the lettuce up, you can cut it if you want but I think bigger pieces would be better.”

You aren’t expecting his voice to come from right behind you, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against the back of your neck. Your own goosebumps rise, dotting across exposed skin and you hope he doesn’t notice but the way he lingers in your space for a little longer despite the nod of your head makes you think otherwise. The spice of his cologne grows faint along with his footsteps against the tile floor, finding a home on the other side of the kitchen, busying himself with what he had started before.

Eddie turns on the radio, easing some of the tension from your muscles, and relaxing your shoulders as you get a good grip on the handle of the knife.

You could do this, easy. 

You really start to believe it too when you cut all the jalapeños, even humming along to an old Judas Priest song that you and Eddie used to blast in his van after school. Peeling the onion, you pretend that you don’t see the reflection of Steve staring at you from the glass of the microwave as you sway your hips and bop your head to the beat.

“So, New York huh?” He finally breaks, and your eyes flutter to the reflection to see him putting away all the spices he’d pulled out while you were smoking. “You likin’ it?”

Your movements freeze for a second, and your tongue feels heavy in your mouth with all the things you’ve dreamed of saying to him. Years of coming up with all the ways you’d tell him how much better you were without him. A recurring fantasy of a ten year reunion where you’d show up with your famous screenwriter husband you’d met on the Subway, turning your nose at him and whatever Hawkin’s girl he’d managed to knock up. But instead, the universe has you here five years too early, and Steve isn’t the same guy you’d left even if you don’t quite trust it yet.

Picking up the knife again, you roll your shoulders with a quiet breath before cutting into the onion once more as you search for the words to answer.

“Yeah, I like it. It’s big and it can be a little scary sometimes but I can be myself there,” it comes out a little quieter than intended but you still twist your hips to meet his gaze from across the kitchen where he stands with crossed arms giving you his full attention. “No one really cares what you do.”

“Who are you trying to be out there?” He asks like he has no idea what small talk is, the greens in his eyes shimmering against the last bit of sunlight that shines on his face.

“Someone stronger than who I was in high school,” you whisper, turning back around to focus on the task at hand and not your ex trying to dig into the depths of your soul while you cut onions.

“You were always the strongest person I knew,” he counters, and you can practically hear the shrug that you know follows his words.

”You certainly liked to test it.” 

It comes out before you can bite your tongue, your knife slicing right into the center of the onion and hitting the cutting board roughly, adding dramatic effect.

”Ouch,” he hums with a small laugh, silverware clanking against the metal of the sink behind you as he finishes cleaning up his mess, “I guess I deserved that one.”

“Steve.” You stop cutting, dropping the knife to look at him, unintentionally swiping your eye in the process, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said that. I promised Rob- oh fuck!”

The burning in your right eye becomes unbearable, the tears spilling freely down your cheek blurring your vision with a harsh sting.

”Oh, oh no. Did you touch your eye?!” Steve sounds panicked, sneakers scuffling against the tile as he hurries to grab a washcloth from the drawer. 

“It was an accident!” You whine, closing your eyes as tight as you can, willing the burning tears to stop, the sound of water running from the sink filling your ears, “God it hurts so bad, Steve.”

”I know baby, I know,” he coos in a soothing voice, and in your panic you almost don’t catch the old nickname that slips off his tongue with ease. Long fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you closer to him, “Let me see, stay still.”

The coolness of the rag provides instant relief when he presses it gently to your eye. Taking a deep breath, you feel the warmth of his palm rub up and down your arm soothing your irritated nerves more. The sting doesn’t fully go away, but it subsides enough for the tears to slow down as he applies a little more pressure before removing it to wet it again. Blinking past the burning, you finally realize just how close you are to him now. 

Chests practically touching, you can see the beginnings of stubble lining his jaw despite being able to tell that he shaved today. The vampire bites on his neck that used to be your favorite to kiss taunt you for what feels like the millionth time this week. With cedar and musk filling your lungs, it feels impossible to breathe.

He cuts off the water, turning towards you again, and you aren’t prepared for the depth in his eyes meeting yours from this distance. They’re soft when they look at you, the chestnut inside them warming gold as you stare back at him a little dazed. Calloused fingertips stop their path up your arm to gently grab your chin, tilting your face up to his so he can get a better look at the damage. He’s sweet with the way moves your head around, the pad of his thumb smoothing the skin under your irritated eye.

”I think you’ll be okay, I don’t see any seeds or anything trapped inside,” he whispers, thumb never stopping its movements while his gaze flicks down to your lips that pout on their own, something electric charging in the air.

The sliding glass door opens behind him before you can answer, Robin and Eddie making their presence known in a loud burst of energy. Snatching the wet rag from his hand, you’re quick to put distance between you. Placing the cool cloth against your face, you make your way out of the kitchen before anyone can ask you anything about what happened. Muttering a “thanks Steve '' on your way to assess just how ruined your makeup is in the bathroom. 

Your heart pounds in your ears feeling the ghost of his touch everywhere, chest tightening because your body won’t stop screaming for more.

You stay in the bathroom long enough for the burning to subside, mumbling words that resemble some kind of pep talk while scrubbing your hands. Fingers that still shake with nerves fix your smudged mascara, listening for the moment their voices go quiet behind the sliding glass door before you decide to finally venture out. The sound of Steve’s laugh catches in your ears, as you make your way through the empty trailer, the corners of your lips curling on their own as you tug on the handle that separates you from them. The humidity is quick to turn your skin sticky despite the sun disappearing behind the trees. 

”There she is! I heard Harrington tried to blind you,” Eddie chuckles from his place crouched in front of the fire. A half smoked cigarette dangling lazily from the side of his mouth as he ‘stokes’ the flames, the crackling wood competing with the buzz of the cicadas that surround you.

”Riddle me this, Steve, why is it that whenever someone ’helps’ you cook, they end up in the hospital or worse, almost BLIND!” 

From her spot sitting on one of the many faded red plastic lawn chairs they have circled around the pit, Robin doesn’t hesitate to turn it into a dog pile with dramatics that could rival an Oscar winning actress.

Steve rolls his eyes, the warm light from the smaller flame of the grill glowing underneath him, highlighting his sharp features. His gaze meets yours, ignoring his friends, and you swear even from here, you can see the green inside each eye shine. You know there’s a million questions he wants to ask but there’s only one that comes out, and it’s soft just like the way he touched you inside.

”Are you okay?”

It’s hard for you to look anywhere but his face, remembering just how pretty it was up close. Your eyes trace the straight line of his nose, and the curve of his full bottom lip before finally meeting his eyes. The small smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth reminds you that you haven’t answered him yet but he doesn’t say anything. He lets Robin’s low whistle do all the talking.

”Uhh, yeah, I’m good. Crisis averted,” you mumble, snapping out of it, cheeks warming up enough to compete with the fire pit you stumble around, landing in the seat next to your best friend. “No jalapenos on mine, I think I’ve had enough for today.”

Steve laughs again, just like the one you heard on your way out and the sound burrows in your heart, making it swell, giddiness roiling deep in your gut. You ignore Robin’s obnoxious toothy grin next to you, doubling down even more when she starts to wiggle her eyebrows. The two beer cans at her feet tell you everything you need to know.

Without a cloud in an almost completely dark sky, you start to see the twinkling of the stars you’ll always miss begin to appear. They battle for your attention against the fireflies that flicker through the tall grass and into the woods. Lighter fluid stings your nose when Steve squirts more onto the burning coals, switching from hot dogs to burgers like he’s been grilling for a family of four his whole life.

A couple of beers calm your nerves that threaten to give you away, watching Steve in his element like this, the holes cut in his shirt showing off every flex of his muscles as he flips the patties. Cheese melting over the burger meat, just like your body that sinks further into the lawn chair that sticks to the backs of your thighs. He throws you a knowing look, making you clear your throat. Straightening your posture, you try to join in Robin and Eddie’s conversation like you hadn’t just been caught. Taking another long swig of the bitter semi cold liquid, you hope it’s enough to get you through dinner.

It’s not.

Steve takes the seat across from you when he’s finished cooking, manspreading with his paper plate in his lap. You fight the urge to look at the tan line of his inner thighs that are revealed by his loose fitting shorts, laughing a little too loud at Eddie’s jokes, desperate to keep your struggle hidden. Even going as far as acting interested when Robin starts talking about her reasons why she likes to buy certain things from the three different grocery stores in town. 

It’s when a dribble of ketchup lands on top of Steve's hand after a large bite that you lose your cool. Right between his thumb and index finger, he hums with cheeks full of food before those full lips of his wrap around the spilled sauce, cleaning it with a flick of his tongue.

”I’m gonna throw my plate away, is anyone else done?” You squeak, standing up abruptly, your chair nearly falling backwards in the process. 

“Jesus, easy tiger,” Eddie snorts, finishing off the last of his beer before crushing the tin can in his hand, tossing it on his empty plate, “The trash isn’t going anywhere.”

“Just trying to be a good house guest is all,” you lie, making Eddie quirk an eyebrow, the dimples in his cheeks coming out to play again.

”Uh huh.” He smirks before handing you his plate that Robin quickly piles hers on top of. “Sure.”

”That’s very sweet of you,” Steve chimes in, with a lopsided grin on his face that makes you want to punch the air and get out of here. 

“She’s pure class Harrington, get it right,” Robin comes for the save with a knowing wink that only makes the heat growing in your cheeks worse.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” you mumble quickly turning on your heel, feeling all their eyes on you as you make your way to the back door of the trailer.

”Hurry back. We're gonna play Never Have I Ever,” your best friend calls out over her shoulder making you wish you could just stay inside when the sliding glass door closes behind you.

Embers spark and pop from the fire before they disappear into the night sky, the full moon’s white glow stopping just along the dark edges of the trees that surround the backyard. The four of you sit around the pit with fresh beers in hand. The buzz of the alcohol turning Steve’s gaze heavy as he stares at you from across the flickering flames. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth you look everywhere but his direction, and hope he doesn’t see the way your thighs press under the heat of it.

“Are you sure this is a good idea Robin?” Eddie whispers, big brown eyes glancing between the both of you, and your bouncing knee.

”It’s fine, they’ll be fine. Right guys?” She waves the metal head off, nudging you with her elbow, completely unphased.

”Of course we’ll be fine, why wouldn’t we be fine?” You snap, tugging the bottom of your skirt down, all the built up tension turning into aggression. Steve smiles into his next gulp.

“Whoa, whoa. I was just asking, but you do seem a little tense.” She raises her hands in surrender, both her eyebrows disappearing behind her shaggy bangs while Eddie distracts himself by poking the fire.

“Relax, it’s just a game,” Steve sighs, settling deeper in his chair, the warm amber in the flames bouncing off the mischievous gold in his eyes that keep their hold on you. “Besides, we’re friends now, right?”

Your gaze narrows, the grip on your beer tightening enough to hear the pop of the metal.“Yep,” you manage to get out, shooting Eddie a glare when he snorts.

“If you guys say so,” he starts, ignoring your scowl while getting cut off by Robin who’s practically vibrating in her seat now.

”Let’s have fun already. I’ll start.” Robin shushes him before acting like she’s deep in thought, turning to face you with the kind of grin on her face that tells you she’s up to no good, “Never have I ever…let some Wall Street douchebag go down on me in the backseat of his Rolls Royce.”

“That’s weirdly specific- oh wait! Damn! Princess!” Eddie whoops when you take a swig with a roll of your eyes, flipping Robin the bird. 

“Gotta try everything once, right?” You shrug, holding his gaze with a smirk, not even trying to hide that you’re taking great pleasure in the way Steve’s jaw clenches at the new found information of your life outside of here. “He had a nice mouth when he wasn’t using it for talking.”

Steve takes a deep breath through his nose, the mossy greens in his eyes turning dark as you lean back in your chair smugly.

“She’s a wild one, I’ll tell ya,” Robin giggles fondly, passing the baton to you with a proud smile.

Maybe it was the beer or the incessant way Steve’s presence drove you to the brink of insanity by rageful lust. Or even just the way he sat across from you with his legs spread wide like he ruled the world, whatever it was, that's what’s to blame for the question that rolls off your tongue.

“Never have I ever taken someone’s virginity.”

Robin’s jaw drops, guffawing with a harsh slap on your leg, mouthing a ‘you said you’d be nice’ but the buzz of the alcohol keeps a lopsided grin on her face. Eddie drinks, nervously watching the staring contest going on between you and Steve. Like a dog and its owner trying to establish dominance, both of you refuse to be the one who looks away first. Taking two gulps for good measure, he smacks his lips loudly when he’s done, wiping the foam off his upper lip with the back of his wrist. Raising his eyebrows at you in a silent challenge.

“This isn’t awkward at all,” Eddie grumbles, taking another sip of his beer to help the uncomfortable tension that threatens to settle over the circle.

”Who’s next? Who's next?” Robin urges with a flick on your knee, forcing you to fold and give her your attention with a blink of your eyes and it feels like the first time in hours that you finally look at someone other than Steve. 

Your teeth clench, grinding at the thought that even after all this time he’s still got this kind of hold on you, and it has you riding the thin line between wanting to give him a black eye or have him take you for a spin in his beemer for old times sake. 

“Eddie,” raising your can in his direction, he meets you in the middle with a cheers that doesn’t quite touch before slinking back in his chair with an exhausted huff.

“Hmmm, what do I want to reveal about myself?” He hums deep in thought, metal rings clinking against tin in a familiar tune as he taps his fingers around his beer can, “Never have I ever… been in a threesome, despite being titled ‘freak’ of Hawkins.”

“Really?” Robin seems genuinely shocked, making you giggle.

“Yeah, I know. It’s crazy to me too.” Eddie shrugs, with a knowing grin that doesn’t quite sit right in your gut.

That’s when you see it. Steve taking a drink.

”WHAT?!” Your best friend squeals practically jumping from her seat, clearly something that's not common knowledge being revealed.

Jealousy is an ugly monster, and it finds a home deep inside your chest tonight, turning you green with it. Your half empty beer can crunches the more your fingers dig into the tin, eyes narrowing when he just responds to Robin with a coy smirk and a shrug bringing his attention back to you.

”Gotta try everything once right?” Steve mocks, full pink lips curling up at the corners as he takes another sip.

Your heart sinks with your stomach, the muscles in your face doing the same before you have a chance to stop it. Visions of red nails and pink lips that don’t belong to you dance through your head, and the smug smirk he probably wore while his big hands gripped their hips taking turns making them moan his name. The sound of your can completely collapsing in a loud crunch gets everyone’s attention, and you ignore the softened expression on Steve’s face trying to capture your gaze again. Eddie clears his throat, throwing you a life line before opening a new can of beer with a suggestion you’ve never been more grateful for.

”Alright Steve, your turn.” 

Steve nods with a tight lipped smile taking one last glance in your direction before sitting up in his chair with an idea that makes his cheeks push up and his eyes sparkle against the light of the fire. “Alright, never have I ever pretended to not only have a driver's license but also own a car that actually belongs to my best friend so I can hook up with a girl in the backseat.”

A quiet sigh escapes your lungs, shoulders relaxing just a little when Robin groans loudly at the attack that’s clearly focused on her. Oblivious to the fact that you’re hanging on by a thread next to her, you stare fixed on the way the flames lick up into the night. 

“Look, she was a college senior, okay? I was only a sophomore and she was way cooler than me. Judge me all you want, but it worked didn’t it?” She argues, lifting her beer to the sky before taking a sip proudly. “No regrets!”

Her smile is contagious, easing some of the tension when you and Eddie giggle meeting each other's eyes from across her honey blond waves. You can feel Steve’s stare burning a hole in the side of your head, the heat of it in direct competition with the fire that thrives off the light breeze that rustles through the trees. 

“Aright, alright, never have I ever faked getting off.” She wiggles her eyebrows with a toothy grin, looking at Eddie specifically who gives her a dead stare in response, clearly something told to her in confidence. 

Biting your lip, you really weren’t going to add more fuel to the fire but when you finally meet Steve’s eyes that have been begging for your attention this whole time, you can’t help but douse the flames with the whole can of gasoline. Another flash of different shades of lipstick staining the freckles you loved to kiss so much sending another wave of rage down to your core.

”I can think of a few times.” You snort loudly, holding his gaze and pointedly stealing everyone else's attention before polishing off the last of your crumpled can.

Steve’s jaw clenches hard enough that you swear you can hear his teeth crunch together. Nostrils flaring with a gaze so dark it threatens to swallow you whole, all traces of honey and warmth gone, leaving you chilled to the bone.

”I think we’re done with this game Robin,” he grunts, standing up with a kick of his chair and for once his eyes don’t search for yours as he stomps across the yard towards the yellow light of the trailer. 

“Seriously!” Your best friend groans, slinking back in her chair with a hand running down her face, “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

”Yeah, genius! I told you, but nooo, you didn’t want to listen to me.” Eddie scoffs into his beer can, using his free hand to poke at the fire.

”Can you go, like, talk to him or something?” Robin turns to you with an almost pleading look that gets more prominent the more your face turns sour.

“Me?! I have to go talk to him? Seriously? He’s the one who stormed off,” you argue, crossing your arms.

”Yeah, well you clearly hurt his feelings.” She points at his pacing figure through the kitchen window and it takes everything inside of you not to tell her that he hurt yours first.

The two of you stare each other down, the wills of stubbornness at battle until her eyes go soft, big and glassy. 

“Please,” she begs, pulling out the big guns, and jutting out her bottom lip.

You hold her gaze for a few more seconds before surrendering with a roll of your eyes, huffing loudly when you uncross your arms to stand up, making her face light back up.

”I hate you. More than anything.”

Eddie cackles loudly at your lie, digging in his front pocket for a smushed pack of cigarettes.

“We all know you don’t mean that,” she hums with a content smile, leaning over to snatch the freshly lit tobacco from the metalhead’s mouth, waving at you as you start to follow Steve’s path up to the trailer. “Please don’t kill him!”

Closing the sliding glass door behind you, a shiver runs up your spine when the coolness of the air conditioning hits your sticky skin. The sound of running water catches in your ears from the kitchen along with the murmur of his voice under its rush.You can’t quite make out what he’s saying to himself, even when you reach the doorway. 

Hunched over the sink, his shoulder blades flex with every harsh scrub of the pan. His hat rests on the counter, and you can’t help but notice the wild way his hair sits on the top of his head from wearing it all day, sun kissed tips curling from the humidity. Clearing your throat just loud enough to alert him of your presence, you watch the way his whole body goes rigid. It only lasts for a moment before he recovers, shutting off the water with a lazy slap of his hand. Turning around he grabs the dish towel next to him to dry off, meeting your gaze with a little more color in his eyes, flecks of gold trying to shimmer in a raging storm.

Having his full attention on you, alone like this, is enough for your tongue to go numb. The back of your throat turns into sandpaper, making it impossible for words to find their way out. A big hand runs through his hair, fingers getting caught on a knot at the end that he works out with ease, a gentle sigh deflating his defensive chest just a little before he speaks.

“Hey.” 

Anger still boils under all of the attraction, along with the jealousy you aren’t willing to acknowledge.You aren’t ready. You can’t do this yet.

“I gotta go to the bathroom,” you excuse yourself, turning on your heel and leaving just as quickly as you arrived.

You ignore the way he calls after you, seeking solace in the place that's become your hiding spot for the night. Fingers wrap around the handle to the familiar room, you stop in your tracks when a warm patch of light leaking out from a crack in a door that wasn’t opened before catches your attention. 

You can smell the cedar from here.

Glancing over your shoulder to see if he followed you, it changes the course of your direction when you discover that he didn’t. Taking a few steps across the hallway, you’re careful not to let the hinges creak when you push his bedroom door open a little more. Your senses quickly become overwhelmed with everything that makes Steve, Steve. You throw another cautious look down the hallway before crossing the invisible line. Closing the door like how you found it, you let your curiosity get the best of you. 

It’s cleaner than you thought it’d be now that he doesn’t live inside the Harrington’s massive house anymore. His bed is bigger, the twin sized mattress that you used to squeeze into traded in for a queen. The navy blue comforter that looks soft to the touch is laid out messy on white sheets, a digital clock with glaring red numbers that read 10:30 pm on the nightstand next to it. 

The carpet under your feet is a heather gray, and you can tell that it’s scratchy even with your shoes on. Patrick Swayze watches your every move from the Roadhouse poster hanging on his wall, the floor creaking as you make your way toward the small work desk in the corner. Your eyes linger on the impressive way all his dirty clothes manage to be in his hamper before they find the framed pictures spread over his desk. 

There’s one of him with the middle school boy you knew as Dustin Henderson perched on his back, only he looks much older than you remembered. The curls still give him away despite the braces free smile. Both of them grin hard enough for their eyes to crinkle in the corners like they had finally stopped laughing long enough for someone to snap this picture. 

You fight back the way your cheeks threaten to push up, not surprised to find one of him and Robin at what looks like Lover’s Lake, both of them striking the same pose with inflatable tubes around their waists wearing matching bucket hats and sunglasses.

The guy in these photos doesn’t seem anything like the one you remember and it’s hard for you to wrap your head around it. They look the same.

”I don’t think this is the bathroom, do you?” Steve’s voice makes you jump, heart stopping in your chest for a split second before you meet his questioning stare with a guilty face of your own. 

His arms are crossed over his chest as leans against the door frame, unintentionally pulling the collar of his shirt down giving you a glimpse of the patch of hair and the gold chain underneath. The softness in his eyes from the kitchen is gone as he stares you down, it’s replaced with something you can’t quite put your finger on but the intensity of it raking over your body has your thighs meeting for what feels like the millionth time tonight. His full pink lips twist into a sarcastic smirk as he pushes off the wood, taking the next few steps into his room.

”Did you really mean what you said out there?” He questions, dark eyes sparkling the more you squirm under the heat of them.

”Mean what? I said a lot of things out there. We all did.” Narrowing your gaze, you try to take back some semblance of control, squaring up your shoulders at him but the dark chuckle you get in response tells you it’s a futile attempt.

“I didn’t say anything about you specifically though, did I?” Steve counters, stopping just a few feet away from you, tongue poking at the side of his cheek, “No, I don’t think I did.”

He hums, uncrossing his arms to mimic your stance in a silent challenge, eyebrows raised waiting on your response.

”I didn’t say anything about you specifically either.” Jutting out your chin in defiance, it's your turn to cross your arms now. Maturity at its finest.

He doesn’t answer you, instead he holds your eyes with his own and it takes everything inside of you not to look away. Your tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he starts to take a few steps closer, broad shoulders making the room feel small when the toes of his sneakers meet yours.

“I don’t think you ever faked anything with me.” He looks down his nose at you, smelling like summer nights and everything you’ve tried to forget.

”You think or you know?” Cocking a brow with a shit eating grin that tells him you aren’t going to fold easy, the backs of your thighs hit the edge of his desk. 

He sucks at his teeth, rolling his shoulders with the kind of laugh that makes the dull ache between your legs turn into a throb.

“I know. Trust me.” He smirks, gaze lingering where the soft dough of your thighs meet before finding your eyes again, “Guess what else I know?”

It's hard for you to catch your breath when he looks at you like this and you wonder if he notices the quick heaves of your chest or the way your eyes glaze over from being this close to him.

”W-what?” Your stutter gives you away, but at least you tried to fight one last time before he went in for the kill.

The whites of his teeth show in the kind of smile that tells you he was hoping you’d ask just that. Leaning in, his palms land on his desk finding purchase on either side of your hips, caging you in. He’s close enough for the tip of his nose to brush against yours, close enough to smell the wheat from his beer on the warm breath that fans against your lips. 

“You wouldn’t still look at me the way you do, if I hadn’t made you feel good honey. And you know what else?” 

His voice goes deep as he whispers, nose nudging at your cheek before his lips hover right by your ear making you shiver, goosebumps making their second appearance of the day. Your hands find the edge of his desk, chest brushing against his in a deep breath feeling the slightest touch of his lips against the soft spot right behind it.  

“I know I can make you cum harder with my tongue than some Wall Street asshole, who doesn’t even know what to do under the hood of that fancy car he spent so much money on.” His grip on the desk tightens at the thought, wood groaning under the stress of it and it has your thighs spreading for him on their own.

“Steve -”

His fingers grab your chin like at the shop with just a firm enough hold for you to pull away if you want to but you can’t bring yourself to do it when his eyes threaten to swallow you whole. You wonder if it's just a mirror reflection of your own as he takes some of the new space you’ve given him, so close now that you can feel the heat of his body where yours screams for him most. His brows furrow when your noses brush and he swears he can taste the watermelon of your lip gloss, and then he knows he can when he feels your fingers curl into his shirt tugging him closer.

“I think,” he breathes into your mouth, hesitating just enough to soak it in a second longer before pulling away with an almost pained expression that he quickly tries to cover up, “I think it’s time for me to take you and Robin home.”

He steps back and out of your space, a nervous hand running through his hair like he did something he wasn’t supposed to do. His eyes meet yours again and there's something apologetic that swirls in the deep forest that watches you tug your skirt down straightening up.

”I’ll uh, I’ll give you a minute while I go wrangle Robin.” 

He takes one last look at you like he really needs to be sure of something before finally walking out and leaving you alone to wonder how the night ended with you here. Skirt rucked up, trying to catch your breath in Steve Harrington’s room.

———-

🌻 beta’d by @superblysubpar

🌻 chapter three

[winterrrnight]

lovers rock

PAIRING: bsf!soft!rafe cameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you kiss your best friend for the first time.

WARNINGS: slightly suggestive content (no smut): just slightly vivid descriptions of making out (but it’s soft and sweet); consumption of alcohol

EDITH SPEAKS: their first kiss feels like such a big milestone for them and I knew I had to write a oneshot for it! I hope you guys like this :) please reblog if you liked reading! feedback is highly appreciated 🎸

part of this little universe <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests

“now, how many men have you kissed?”

“very few,”

“but you offered me a kiss, why?”

“such a foolish reason i’m afraid, i just, wanted to kiss you,”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It was a small gathering of just you and your close friends at your house, a nice time to spend with one another as a form of a dinner party, involving food, drinks, and some drinking games to go along with it.

“Bye, thank you for visiting!” You said with a smile as you peered from behind the open door, waving to the last of your friends who were now leaving your house after the party. You closed the door behind them, a small stumble in your step from the alcohol coursing through your veins as you walked back to your living room, where Rafe was sprawled across the couch.

“You plannin’ on staying here?” You chuckled as you began to pick some of the dirty dishes from the coffee table and took them to your kitchen.

You heard him laugh from the kitchen, his laughter drifting up to you from the living room. He was definitely the one who had the most to drink, constantly losing the drinking games and taking shots over shots. You felt as if he’s probably doing it on purpose, but you didn’t say anything; just watched him laugh and smile and take his shots.

Once you were done with some minimal job of cleaning in the kitchen for the night, you went back to him in the living room, where he was still in the same position. Your living room was decorated around with the prettiest golden fairy lights, and were the only source of lighting in the room except the occasional moonlight filtering through the windows whenever the curtains would blow under the wind. Your record player sat in the corner, a vinyl of gentle jazz music still spinning, filling the room with the sexy saxophone notes and the deep rumbles of the bass.

He saw you approach him with a lazy smile pulling his lips, before slowly sitting up, rubbing a hand over his face.

“It’s… it’s getting late, I’m gonna leave now,” he said and started to get up from the couch. He got up quite unceremoniously, almost tripping and falling back down on the plush couch, but he gained his balance back again – barely.

You couldn’t stifle the laughter bubbling in you, so it made its way past your lips, a soft light laughter that made Rafe’s heart jump.

“Hey, now what are you laughing at huh?” He asked, his tone laced with faux arrogance as he made his way towards you. His steps were miscalculated, and he almost tripped over himself again, which caused your laughter to only increase.

“Okay okay yeah I’m making a fool of myself at this point,” he chuckled as he finally stood straight in front of you, looking at you.

Your laughter slowly died down as you looked at him, his cheeks flushed under the warm, dim lighting in your room and his hair completely mussed.

“How are you going to drive? You’re too tipsy to drive,” you said softly.

Rafe’s ears perked up at your words. “Are you extending me an invitation to stay?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

You chuckled softly at his tone and expression, and nodded your head. “I am, you’re too drunk to drive, you should stay,”

The earnest honesty in your words didn’t go unmissed by Rafe. His expressions softened, and he nodded at your words. “Okay, I’ll stay, only because you asked me so sweetly,”

“Right yeah, I’m so honored,” you said, sarcasm evident in your words, causing Rafe to let out a short laugh.

A few moments later, after you did some more cleaning up around the living room, you both found yourself sitting next to each other on the couch. The furnace was lit up too, adding more to the golden glow of the fairy lights as you both cozied up under the same warm blanket wrapped around you.

You had changed the vinyl from some jazz album to something more softer, relaxing and mellow; something you and Rafe both loved. You let your head drop on his shoulder, letting out a soft sigh as his arm came around your shoulders to pull you closer to him.

For a moment, you felt everything die down. Every stress, every anxiety, every whirlpool of all the problems you have in your mind started to die down, till you were left with nothing but a peaceful clearing. You let out a deep, heavy hearted sigh and snuggled more against Rafe’s side, who only gladly pulled you closer to him.

You reached out your hand for his free one and placed yours on top of his, causing him to look down at your head resting on his shoulder. You slowly lifted your head up, your eyes on the same level as his. Your gaze swept over his facial features, the way they were so striking under the dim, aureate lighting. Your gaze slowly trailed down over his nose and then to his lips and the soft cupid’s bow, the pink, flushed tint to his fleshy lips, and the perfect symmetry of them; all only shone more and more in the fairy lights.

You felt as if you were being gravitated towards him without any control in your hands. Your body felt like it was being controlled like a puppet by some higher power, but you did absolutely nothing in your power to stop it.

Rafe stayed right where he was, watching you lean in closer to him with your half hooded gaze transfixed on his lips, causing his own eyes to look down at your lips, watching them get closer and closer to him with each passing second. He felt as if his heart was caught in his throat, and the moment you were so close that your lips brushed past his in a touch that was barely present, he felt like he could explode.

You felt daring, really daring as your lips brushed past his, and that only fueled your craving to kiss him properly. When you didn’t hear Rafe voice any complaints, or move back from you, you felt even more bold. So bold that you brushed your lips past his again, but this time, you gently pushed your lips against his, slotting your lips between his and softly kissing him.

It felt downright euphoric, the way your lips moved so slowly and steadily against his. His hands came to cradle your face in them, the warmth of his hands sending tingles down your spine as you subconsciously lean closer to him, your own hands coming to rest against his chest.

Your head tilted slightly to the side to deepen the kiss, which; again, he made no move to pull away from. In fact, you felt his tongue gently trace against your bottom lip, coaxing your lips to part and to let him in. You let your lips separate and his warm tongue gently pushed through, delving into your mouth. His tongue tenderly mapped out the inside of your mouth, feeling and tasting everything, before it met with your tongue.

The pace remains slow and sweet, his tongue softly moving against yours and yours moving with the same intimacy, the taste of alcohol on his lips spilling onto your tongue.

As your mouth moved perfectly in sync with his, you realized that’s a taste you could never get enough of. You wanted it again, and again, and again, and again. That was when you knew there was no way you would let this be the only time you let your lips kiss his in that perfectly slow manner.

And that was when you knew there was no one you had known like Rafe.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

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[princessbrunette]

toxic ex rafe would pick you up from a bad date no matter how pissed he was at you bc at the end of the day nobody can make you cry but him duh 🙄 he had ur best interests at heart not them! - 🐰

he’s not that toxic really in this but i couldn’t help myself

🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

he’s already rambling as he shows up, rolling his window down as he pulls up into the parking space next to where you stand. “what, this guy doesn’t drive or what? who fuckin’… leaves a girl outside the restaurant ‘stead of driving her home? jesus, this guys got no game.” he complains, all huffy and pissed off because why are you going on dates when you should be with him?

“‘said he had somewhere to be.” you mumble, humiliated as you climb into his passenger seat, fumbling for the seatbelt. when you can’t do it, he sighs and reaches over— pulling it across your body and plugging it in.

“yeah, real charming guy. i can imagine.” he shakes his head, turning to look out the back window as he reverses to turn the car around, an arm on the back of your seat. to this day the action still makes your stomach go funny.

he drives away, and for a moment there’s silence, just filled by the rumbling of the car and your pathetic sniffles.

“sorry for calling you. i know it’s not ideal—”

he waves you off with a lazy hand, eyes fluttering in irritation at himself for being so whipped.

“its fine— i— couldn’t just leave you there. s’dangerous.” he licks his lips thoughtfully before his eyes glance over at you. “what happened anyway? why’re you cryin’ over that nobody?” his nose twitches in disgust.

“you don’t even know who it was, rafe.” you wipe your eyes on the backs of your hands, refusing to look his way. he scoffs, a victorious if not slightly malicious smile on his face.

“you think people at the country club don’t talk? ‘course i do.”

another silence passes, because you’re frustrated.

“he was just so… rude. i’ve never been spoken to like that before… just made me feel like nothing on our first date. it was horrible.” your lip wobbles and he sighs.

“why are you taking anything that freak says seriously, huh? should’a known you were too good for him from the start. now his ego is boosted n’ he’s tryn’a humble you. i know how guys work, baby.” the nickname slips out on instinct and you almost wince. moving on from rafe has been hard, because as problematic as he is — he feels like home, and after the day you’ve had you want nothing more than to backslide and let him scoop you up in his arms and make it better. you sniff, a gentle smile gracing your features as he pulls into your drive.

“so wise of you, what happened?” you joke as he stops the car, head turning to glance at you but getting caught in your gaze, unable to tear his eyes away from your beauty.

“its called maturing, alright? became a man.” he tries to sound nonchalant, but even then its clear he’s trying to prove himself as better. you nod before reaching for the door handle.

“thanks for the ride, rafe. i appreciate it.”

“yeah.” he blinks, not looking at you. you climb out the car, shutting the door and as you begin to walk away, he winds the passenger window down once more, leaning over to speak out of it. “wh— hey.”

you turn around, tilting your head curiously. “cut that guy off. i mean it.” he raises his eyebrows and you nod, still naturally obedient towards him which makes his chest clench.

a week later, you spot your date at the beach with a big black ring around his eye. you wonder where it came from.

🫧🦢🪞.♡⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[shitsndgiggs]

Can you write Lamine x girlfriend reader fluff ?

MAKEUP 101 - LAMINE YAMAL

Lamine being a curious boy

Lamine Yamal x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

It was a lazy afternoon, the kind where the world outside seemed to slow down just for a bit. I was sitting at my vanity, putting on some makeup for no particular reason other than I felt like it.

Lamine was lounging on my bed, scrolling through his phone, but his curiosity kept pulling his attention toward me.

“Why do you need so many brushes?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.

I glanced at him through the mirror, a smirk playing on my lips. “Each brush has a different purpose. See?” I held up a fluffy one. “This is for powder.”

Lamine nodded, though I could tell he was still a little baffled. He got up from the bed and walked over, taking a seat beside me at the vanity. “So, what’s that one for?” he asked, pointing at the eyelash curler.

I picked it up, holding it in front of him. “This is an eyelash curler.”

His eyes widened slightly as he examined the strange contraption. “How do you even use that without poking your eye out?”

I laughed, turning to face him. “Here, let me show you.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, no way. You’re not coming near my eyes with that thing.”

“Oh, come on,” I teased, holding the curler up as if I were about to use it on him. “It’s not as scary as it looks.”

Lamine leaned back, shaking his head with an amused grin. “Get away from me, woman! You’re not curling my lashes.”

I laughed, but I still moved closer, playfully trying to reach his eyes with the curler. “Just let me show you! You’ll look so pretty.”

“Pretty?” he scoffed, still grinning. “I’m already pretty, thank you very much.”

I couldn’t stop laughing as I chased him around the small space of the vanity, him dodging and weaving like it was a game of football. “Hold still! It’s not like I’m going to hurt you.”

“Yeah, right!” he said, finally catching my wrist gently to stop me. “I’ve seen what you girls do with that thing. It’s terrifying.”

I was laughing so hard my sides hurt, and Lamine’s wide grin was infectious. I finally gave up, lowering the curler in defeat. “Fine, fine. No eyelash curling for you. But at least let me show you how it works.”

He relaxed a bit, still keeping a wary eye on the curler. “Alright, show me. But I’m staying at a safe distance.

I rolled my eyes but demonstrated how I used it on myself. “See? Easy. You just clamp it down gently on your lashes.”

He watched, still a bit skeptical. “I don’t get how you can do that without flinching.”

“It just takes practice,” I said, releasing the curler and turning back to him. “And you get used to it. Want to try?”

Lamine shook his head immediately, but he was still smiling. “Nope, I’m good. I think I’ll leave the eyelash curling to you.”

“Your loss,” I said, setting the curler down and picking up a tube of lipstick. “Want to try this instead?”

He laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. I’m out. You’re too dangerous with all that stuff.”

I giggled, shaking my head as he backed away, pretending to be afraid. “I’m just trying to share my world with you, Lamine.”

“And I appreciate it,” he said, still grinning. “But I think I’ll stick to my world of football, where nothing is trying to poke my eye out.”

“Fair enough,” I said, still smiling as I applied the lipstick.

Lamine sat back down beside me, watching as I continued with my makeup routine. “You know,” he said after a moment, his tone softer now, “you don’t need all that stuff to look beautiful.”

I glanced at him through the mirror, feeling a warm blush rise to my cheeks—not from the makeup, but from his words. “Thank you,” I said softly, touched by his sincerity.

He smiled, reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “I mean it. You’re gorgeous, with or without all that.”

I leaned in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark that made him laugh. “You’re pretty sweet, you know that?”

“Only for you,” he said with a wink, wiping the lipstick off his cheek with a playful grin.

We spent the rest of the afternoon like that—me finishing up my makeup while Lamine continued to ask questions, mostly to make me laugh.

It was one of those simple moments that didn’t need anything more than just being together, sharing our worlds in our own little ways.

As I finished up and packed away my makeup, I caught his eye in the mirror and smiled. “Thanks for keeping me company, even if you were a bit of a chicken.”

“Hey, I’m brave enough for most things,” he shot back, laughing. “But everyone’s got their limits.”

“And yours is makeup,” I teased.

“Exactly,” he said, pulling me into a hug from behind, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But for you, I might make an exception.”

I leaned back into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace. “Maybe next time, we can do a full makeover.”

“Don’t push your luck,” he warned playfully, and we both laughed, the sound filling the room with pure, easy joy.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Hi hi!! Hope you’re doing well, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could do some hc on how ran, Rindou, sanzu, Baji, and Kazutora would react if they had a crush on a shy girl, so they always stare at her, but she thinks they’re glaring and gets scared?

Ok! Here are some hc's on them staring at a shy girl and accidentally scaring her because she thinks they're glaring. Put the timelines next to the names, also tw for kidnap on Sanzu's.

Ran (good timeline)

He really wasn't expecting to ever get caught staring at you, so the first time you suddenly turned and your eyes met his, he was caught off guard. He quickly recovered giving you a lazy smile though, and so the same thing continued everytime you caught him. Ran thought he was being charming and playful.....he never figured the stares would come off differently or that you would see his smiles as something sinister.

He doesn't understand why you always seem in such a hurry to get away from him. Were you not interested in him? Or is this part of the game?

Eventually he manages to trap you, standing between you and the door, grinning at you like a cat who just caught the mouse. Slamming his hand on the wall, next to your head, he leans in, intending on finally flirting with you verbally.

Only for him to suddenly notice your scared expression and realise that he's scaring you

Immediately backs off with his hands in the air, trying to show you he means you no harm. Explains the situation to you and actually apologises for scaring you.

He's mainly just surprised and a little embarrassed that he didn't realise earlier.

Rindou (good timeline)

Doesn't even notice notice he was staring at you at first, he's liked you for the longest time now and his gaze is just always wandering over to you unintentionally. He daydreams a lot while looking at you.

Anytime you turn to peek at him and your eyes meet, he tends to look away just as quickly as you. He hasn't quite figured out how he wants to approach you yet.

Eventually, he tries to talk to you but gets confused by your expression and by how you seem to practically run away anytime he gets close.

Actually assumes it's because you know his reputation as one of the Haitani brother's instead of it being because of the staring. So he tries to lay low a bit gang wise but the staring still continues.

Until one day, when you try to run off he calls your name and catches your wrist. He explains that he knows you're scared of him but that he won't ever hurt you and that you don't have to be scared because of the gangs. You look at him with a confused look for a moment before asking "so you don't hate me?". Rindou is very confused and also embarrassed as you explain the staring thing.

Sanzu (Bonten, tw: kidnap)

He's aware that you're scared straight away but it doesn't bother him. He's always observing people so has gotten good with knowing their thoughts and emotions, and picks up on yours immediately.

Sanzu's a bit different to the others though, since he never plans on actually having a relationship with you. Sure he's interested but Mikey is his king and the only one he allows himself to spend time on, he has to be his number one priority. So there's no time for a relationship, you're just a passing fantasy so it doesn't matter what you think of him.

He was wrong though, months go by and he's still interested in you. You won't leave his head, the staring intensifies.

Eventually he gives up, guess he has no choice but to approach you. He can probably make it work between you and serving Mikey too anyway. Besides he's no good to Mikey or bonten when he's all distracted like this.

You're walking home alone and don't see him till it's too late, one second you're walking and the next you're being pulled into an unknown car and being injected with something. Sanzu strokes your hair as your head rests on his lap, you were right to be scared of him.

Baji (good timeline)

He's in complete denial that he's even staring at you, Chifuyu and Kazutora both pick up on it and question him but Baji always denies it, getting defensive about how he definitely wasn't staring at you.

He hates how quickly you always leave, always rushing out of the pet shop whenever you see him. He wants to see you for longer, so wishes you would browse more like the other customers. Especially after he finds out that you happily stay longer and even chat with Kazutora and Chifuyu when he's not there.

This goes on for months, Baji staring at you longingly anytime you came in and you seeing his frustrated look, assuming he's angry at you and leaving quickly with your purchases.

Of course Kazutora and Chifuyu are the ones who have to step in. Making up some excuse about both of them being sick one day, so Baji would have to cover the shop alone for them. Meaning you and Baji would have to interact at the till.

Baji watches you as you casually walk into the shop, only to freeze when your eyes lock with his. You gulp and glance around before realising he's the only one there today, your only choice for buying your items.

You had hoped he wouldn't say anything to you but instead Baji immediately asks if you have a problem with him. He was never one for subtly after all. "I thought you had a problem with me?" You both end up surprised and clearing the matter up. Baji does have to deal with Kazutora and Chifuyu's teasing after though.

Kazutora (bad toman timeline)

You were being harassed by toman the first time he saw you, so of course he jumped in, beating them up to protect you. Toman shouldn't be hurting random girls. After he'd finished he was about to walk away when he heard the quiet "thank you" and realised you were offering him some tissues for his own injuries from the fight. You ran off after that, before Kazutora could offer to walk you home or even just ask if you were ok.

He figured he'd never see you again but then he did, just by chance. After that the two of you bumped into each other often, with him always staring after you. He wanted to say thanks for the tissues and get to know you more, he wanted you. You seemed so sweet, no girl had ever stuck around after a fight and offered him something to help before.

You thought he was mad at you because he had to beat up those guys or maybe he expected some kind of payment for doing that? He definitely seemed to be glaring at you...

It didn't take long for him to sense how uncomfortable you were with him around. It hurt him a lot, he assumed you were scared of him because you saw what he did to those guys.

He backed off immediately, stopped going to the areas where you were. After all he had an important job to do with Chifuyu, no time for romance. But it still made his heart ache.

[saerins]

─── 𝐄𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓

+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 3.2k | content: fluff, ngl i was too lazy to proof this, childhood friends to lovers, canon-compliant (i tried), yn’s parents are just bad

notes: me ?? writing someone other than sae ?? wild . but it’s my first try at nagi so pls have mercy :’) feedbacks/reblogs appreciated !! <3

summary: it’s a little more difficult for nagi to realise his feelings compared to the average man.

i. fleeting moment

nagi seishiro was your first kiss, age ten on the swings of your backyard.

you’re only friends by chance. he was a loner on the swings in the public playground and you have a habit of picking up strays. (but until then, it had been limited to animals and not humans.)

yeah, yeah, maybe having a first kiss at the young age of ten is a little alarming, but it’s not like nagi is a bad person. if anything, he was just trying to shut you up. probably, maybe. (and it wasn’t with tongue, if anyone needs the specifics.)

“if you keep crying that loudly i won’t be able to hear my game,” nagi grumbled, eyes glued to his screen. apparently he was playing some pseudo horror game where four fighters run from a single hunter and apparently he needed to listen to the sounds to know when to run.

but really, you were ten and crying because some other boy bullied you in the playground, saying how you were so ugly and that no boy would ever wanna kiss you. given all of that, why would you even care about nagi’s stupid game?

if he didn’t want to be bothered, he shouldn’t have chased you all the way back home.

“but seishiro, am i really ugly?” you were ten and in need of immediate validation while nagi was in need of your immediate silence.

he didn’t even look up. “that’s subjective.”

even when he was young he had a smart mouth that would be able to break you.

“well then what do you think?” because honestly, even at that point, you thought nagi seishiro was handsome; he was the face claim you used to imagine all your scenarios at night before you went to sleep.

he was your knight in shining armor, coming to break you free from the cage which was your life and obligations. he was your prince charming who’d rescue you above all else. heck, sometimes he was mario and you were princess peach.

seishiro groaned when the screen shows game over and honestly, he really did think it was all your fault because he couldn’t hear anything over your incessant wailing. but then he looked at you for the first time after you cried and had the recurring thought that he didn’t want to be the reason for you to keep on crying.

“yeah, you’re pretty.”

and he puts his lips on yours like it’s no big deal.

ii. unreciprocated

fifteen is when you’re most rebellious. it’s a sickness you get from none other than mikage reo.

your family and the mikages go way back. they’d been family friends for such a long time. a part of you feels it’s not genuine, blinded by the fact that they’re always business partners and everything else stemmed from that one simple fact.

you started to play hooky from business dinners, started to say fuck off to rude old geasers who truly didn’t deserve a single dime they got.

all you ever got in return was your father’s temper and your mother’s cowardice and reo’s praises. most of all you at least had nagi’s shoulder to cry on. (he’s learned to bring along his earpiece just in case he had to meet you or accidentally bumped into you.)

“they all sicken me,” was what reo told you when you asked about his family in relation to their business. you could sympathise. sometimes all you could feel from your parents were that they treated you as a next-in-line rather than just daughter. and almost everyone around you made you feel like you were just a moneybag.

what reo felt shouldn’t have been too far off. except you thought he had it better; at least all his parents did was try to spoil him while not-so-subtly training him up to be the next ceo. he at least didn’t suffer at the hands of foul tempers and verbal abuse.

no one should have to.

“oh shit! i gotta go soon,” you realised, noticing that it was almost six and you’d made plans with nagi.

reo cocked a brow, “y/n l/n, you have other friends?”

you knew he was joking, but that didn’t stop you from landing the hardest punch you could on his arms. “hey, i’m not that inept at socialising okay?”

sure, you’d started taking caution with making friends because most of them were just after one thing: money. even at this age. which is crazy to you, at least, but you felt you had no right to think that. not when all the money you wanted was still at your disposal.

but you weren’t actually bad at making friends. it was just that maybe most people weren’t even worth the effort.

“they’re good to you, right?”

you took a moment to decide before you eventually nodded. “yeah, for sure.”

nagi was… weird, for you. but in the good sense. yeah, he’d open his mouth and ask you for money which at least told you he was honest. even if you rejected him, though, he was still beside you.

“man, what a hassle,” he grumbled when you wouldn’t buy any more food. he was broke, which meant he couldn’t eat anymore too if you didn’t buy some.

the two of you still never talked about that kiss. it never happened again, to your dismay.

you were a teen, and screw stupid teen hormones for driving you to ask him.

“hey sei, we’re good friends, right?”

“huh?” nagi was already fixated on his phone. probably some new game you didn’t know about. his earpieces were ready, around his neck. “uh, i guess?”

but that was not good enough for your feisty fifteen-year-old self.

“sei, i’m serious! would you be sad if one day we weren’t friends anymore?”

back then you didn’t know what you were doing. back then you didn’t think to yourself what it was, really, that you were trying to get out of him. maybe it was validation, and maybe it was just boredom.

you really just wanted to know nagi cared.

all he did was shrug, brows furrowed in annoyance. “that’s life, isn’t it? sometimes friends drift and sometimes they don’t.”

throwing wisdom around as if that was what you needed. and it was unfair to expect anything out of nagi as it was, but that didn’t stop you from throwing a tantrum and storming off.

(he watched you as you left, and there was something unsettling about the sight of your back moving so far away.)

iii. turning point

the world is small.

when you were sixteen you realised that the so called treasure reo told you he found was a human, who so happened to be your friend—nagi seishiro.

teeny tiny.

they also both happened to be picked by the JFU to go to blue lock. which you only found out after they’d both been gone for a week.

it didn’t surprise you though—they were both talented. it was only right they got picked. though, they also happened to be the only two people you would hang out with, so by default you felt lonely.

but at sixteen you’d learned to suck it up, hide your feelings. everything was okay—as long as you deceived yourself so. your parents were the same; overbearing and breathing down your neck and now that reo was not around for you and nagi couldn’t be your confidant, it felt much worse than usual.

everything was a transaction and you felt suffocated. it made you appreciate nagi’s unfiltered honesty and reo’s unwavering loyalty to whatever you dedicated yourself to.

“at least that reo boy has some other talents like that foolish soccer he plays,” your father berated over dinner. “and here my daughter is, good for nothing yet expects us to believe her when she says she can make a living outside of our company.”

and if you’d had other close friends, they would’ve told you that sixteen was too young to be sure what you wanted to do for the rest of your life. they’d have said your parents were unreasonable and that they were the fools.

but you didn’t. and the only friends you had weren’t around. so you ate it up. you clenched your fists where your parents couldn’t see and let them run their mouth. or, in your mother’s case, stay silent while your father made unreasonable arguments.

“and that nagi boy you hang out with,” your father turned his focus to him, “all he reeks of is laziness. i don’t get why you have to hang out with him all the time. inviting that oaf into our house like he’s welcome.”

that time your fists hit the table and you didn’t even expect it. it hurt because of how hard you hit but nothing could beat the hurt your father inflicted on your heart.

you found you couldn’t say anything, only because your father’s eyes were wide with rage at your outburst and you were still the same scared girl inside at age four when he first raised his voice at you.

“i-i’m sorry,” you choked out, which was pathetic but you didn’t want to end up murdered in your own house.

your father scoffed. “get your stupid head out of your ass or you’re cut off.”

the only time you could do that was when nagi and reo finally got their first break out of blue lock. you occupied their time for the most of it, listened to them going on and on about the matches that went on inside. though reo seemed a little mad at nagi, a little awkward around him, for some reason you weren’t privy to.

“i’m gonna head home first,” and reo was gone with the wave of a hand, something about having to settle something at home—probably nothing good.

maybe it was the lovestruck idiot in you talking, but you’d made peace with the fact that maybe you had a small crush on nagi seishiro, judging by how you acted around him. maybe it was that idiot that made you want to spend all of his free time together.

“guess i’ll see you tomorrow too?” sue you, you were just trying to shoot your shot.

nagi put his phone in his pocket, for once, and you were struggling to remain standing as he held eye contact with you, calm gray eyes the bane of your existence. “mmm can’t, gotta meet isagi and the rest.”

isagi, a name you’d just learned earlier—apparently nagi thought he was strong and chose his team. maybe that was why reo was mad.

“oh, okay then.” you’d ask for the next day, but you didn’t want to get rejected twice. besides, nagi would probably just prefer playing games and resting at home. you were just friends, after all.

“was thinking we could get dinner though,” nagi told you, hands in his pockets as the both of you walked down the street.

that was the first time he ever extended an effort, you remember. and suddenly life wasn’t that bad anymore.

it was also the first time nagi asked you to feed him, not because he was playing some game but on purpose.

and you didn’t know how it turned out that way, but he ended up taking up all of your time. it was the only reason you had the ability to fill him in on your family, and he actually listened. and, like reo, he said “fuck them.”

maybe that was the point you realised maybe he did care.

but for a girl at seventeen just concerned with romance and happiness, it was paradise—until of course he went back to blue lock, taking your heart with him.

(what you both failed to realise was that he left his with you.)

iv. slow realisation

in the bleachers of his first match out of blue lock, nagi seishiro spots you easily in the front row—wearing his jersey and number, when did you buy that?

doesn’t change the fact that nagi likes seeing it on you. he’s not familiar with the feeling, but it’s equivalent to saying you like him the most, which feels great if he’s honest to himself.

what he doesn’t like is the guy next to you. sharp jawline and spiky hair wearing a business suit and his raven eyes are always peeking at you out of the corner. does he like you?

but the whistle blows and nagi forgets about you for a little over ninety minutes. he’s going to show you he can win this, with you watching from the front row, and he’ll show you why he’s the best and that other guys in business suits don’t matter.

after the game reo makes a big deal out of the fact you’re wearing nagi’s jersey and not his, and nagi finds out the guy with you was someone your dad wanted to hook you up with.

twisted business marriages.

“i’m just going out with him to shut my father up,” you admit to nagi when you’re both finally alone. (aka, after you’ve convinced reo to pry him away and leave you two alone.)

nagi’s not used to this. what’s this relief he feels? “oh, good to know,” is all he says because he doesn’t even understand himself.

he isn’t even sure why he’s here in the first place, walking you home. he’s not sure why reo left when he could’ve driven all of you home instead of just mr business-suit-guy.

“how’s it feel now, to be mr popular?” you’re not even sure why you’re asking. maybe because you feel like the gap between you and nagi grew so wide in such a short period of time and you’d do anything to hear him say that he’s still the same seishiro you knew.

your seishiro.

nagi only shrugs, “dunno. don’t really feel the difference.”

because really, apart from the fact that he’s much more busy, he’s still him—playing games when he’s free, texting you because that happens to fall in the list of things he likes to do now, and well, the only difference he feels is—he takes a peek to his side—you, somehow.

not because of anything you do in particular, but he feels different somehow. and he can’t make sense of it. he never can. how’s he supposed to? no one ever warned him about shit like this.

“uh, nagi? have you ever thought that maybe you like her?” reo tells him over the phone later that night, a little baffled by the things his usually detached friend just told him.

“you like her too though,” nagi retorts.

reo sighs, wondering how nagi ever made it to where he is. “not in the same way.”

“what do you mean?”

“figure it out yourself.”

nagi hangs up, thinking he already has it figured out. he also thinks reo will keep his mouth shut.

he doesn’t.

v. requited

it’s funny how reo rushed to call you that night, right after nagi basically told him (without saying it explicitly) that he has a crush on you.

but it’s also funny how it’s been three months since then and nagi still hasn’t said anything about it. you play ignorant around him, waiting and waiting for him to admit it himself.

evidently it’s not working.

tonight you’re just watching him on the screen, cheering him on from the other side of the world because despite being from a rich family you can’t just up and leave to another country as and when you feel like it.

besides, you’ve made peace with your parents; you’d learn about the family business willingly as long as they stopped interfering with your personal life. they surprisingly agreed.

nagi and reo win, as you expected, and as usual, the cameras trail their team as they celebrate on the field, their captain having tore his shirt off to celebrate that they’d won the tournament. it’s not long before the camera pans back to nagi, a few reporters already surrounding him.

“so nagi, how do you feel right now?”

“great,” he answers, with a sexy amount of enthusiasm. he’s rarely ever enthused, but you find it so much more attractive when he is.

nagi has his phone in his hand, you notice, and you immediately fish for yours. he’d texted you right before they started hounding him.

are you watching?

you smile as you type back.

no. congrats on becoming champions! 🫶🏼

“nagi nagi, who would you like to dedicate this win to?” the reporters are all clambering to get a chance to question him.

“oh i don’t know,” nagi says, and you catch him looking at your message before looking back at the camera. “i guess i’ll dedicate this one to this girl i like.”

you nearly spit out your drink.

“wait, does this mean you’re involved with someone? tell us, who is it!”

all the reporters get excited, and understandably, since nagi’s probably just about given them the biggest scoop for the month. they’re all looking at him, money signs in their eyes, while your jaw drops open as he overshares with the entire world.

“oh, y/n l/n, she’s been my friend since forever and i don’t know… i kinda like her a lot,” he’s saying all this earnestly, a hand scratching his neck and a blush creeping on his face, though he doesn’t look the least bit fazed.

you rush to find his chat thread.

nagi, what the fuck!!!

you did NOT just say my name on live tv!!!

on the screen, he openly looks at your messages before typing a reply as the reporters hound him for more details.

oh shit, m i not supposed to?

“nagi, is she the one texting you right now?”

and like the honest guy he is, he nods. “oh yeah, think she’s mad at me right now.”

you curl up under your blanket, flustered because nagi is way too open and way too precious.

“would you like to say anything here to her now?”

nagi looks off camera and hums in contemplation before finally deciding on a response.

“hey y/n, tomorrow i’m gonna make you mine okay? so just wait for me.”

reo finally drags him away and towards the rest of his team and his interview ends there. you switch the television off, half mortified and half flattered. your phone blows up with most of your contacts gushing over what nagi said.

leave it up to nagi seishiro to have feelings for you, not realise it until years later, not tell you in the whole three months before this and yet announces it and your full name to the entire world on live television.

in spite of how flabbergasted you are, there’s a warm sensation blooming underneath your chest, a comfort that you’ve always been looking for finally fulfilled. there’s a certain endearment in the way nagi realises and professes his feelings.

you pull up his messages again.

you better keep your word, sei.

it doesn’t take him long to respond.

don’t worry, i’ll make you mine.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

CHAPTER FOUR WAS SO GOOD UGHH literally the only fanfic I have ever loved so much and wait for updates like this. Am so excited for the next one!!!

On the topic of finally opening requests, I was wondering if I could ask for head-canons of what a relationship with Seishiro and a female reader would be like. If we want to be specific, maybe related to the fanfic? Like, how you would imagine their relationship would have been like back when they were still in high school, young and with Nagi’s past soccer career and all. Don’t feel pressured to write this, and good luck with everything!😽😽

── DATING NAGI!

Synopsis: Headcanons about having Seishiro Nagi as your boyfriend.

Event Masterlist

Pairing: Nagi x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Content Warnings: none really, just generally fluffy and silly

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON i hope you like where i go w the story in the future!! and hehe now that we’re in the past arc of peregrine you will actually get to see all of the nitty gritty details of their relationship in the fic itself so i won’t spoil it 🤫 but i love nagi ofc so i’ve added some general headcanons on what i think he would be like as a bf

Additional: part of my 500 follower event! see the event description and rules to make a request of your own.

no matter how the two of you get together, reo is somehow involved LMAOAOAO like bro is ALWAYS at the scene of the crime in some way shape or form just because i don’t think nagi would really pick up on the fact that he has a crush on you without outside intervention

it would also definitely be a jump scare when he confesses!! you would have zero idea it’s coming because he literally hasn’t changed how he acts towards you whatsoever

canonically he doesn’t really interact with a lot of people or have a lot of friends and he’s not aggressive with romance so i just don’t think he’d really know what the appropriate method of telling someone you like them is

would probably say some shit like “reo says i have a crush on you” and would be so nonchalant about it meanwhile you’re like “???” because you did not even realize he knew your name and also why is reo being brought up

i honestly think he would not be a bad boyfriend. yes he is lazy and unmotivated but he does what he needs to do and if something is important to him he generally puts in effort for it

that’s another reason why it would take him foreverrr to ask you out — he would have to like you enough that he realizes he does in fact want to have a relationship with you even if it is a hassle

he doesn’t have social media though so don’t expect there to be an official announcement that you guys are together or anything like that HAHA

he would probably forget to tell anyone that the two of you are dating and it’s not because he’s ashamed of you or is trying to hide you or anything he literally just does not care what other people think and would prefer not to talk them if possible so it never comes up

you’ll show up to an event with him and everyone’s like “omg nagi who is this” and he’s like “this is my girlfriend” and someone (probably otoya tbh) is like “since when have you had a girlfriend” and he’s like “it’s been two years 😐”

i think he would be fire at insulting people just because of how many video games he plays…that man has seen some of the worst sides of humanity

the world is lucky he’s a pacifist and avoids conflict because he has some vile stuff stored away (i will never be over him asking barou if he practiced kneeling because he’s about to make him his servant)

this particular quality makes him the BEST person to talk shit with

he’s not a gossipy boyfriend in the sense that he doesn’t have anything juicy of his own to contribute to the conversation but i’m pretty sure he mentioned he watches dramas at one point so you know he’s locked tf in if you need to complain abt someone

he will sit there and be so invested in the tea…def would not give any useful advice but he will make fun of anyone bothering you so you still end up feeling better

i don’t think he would get jealous honestly

the thought of you cheating on him doesn’t cross his mind at all because why would he date someone he didn’t trust fully???

i would say he expects the same from you because he would but at the same time he voluntarily talks to one (1) other person besides you and that’s reo so the opportunity for you to be jealous just wouldn’t even crop up

definitely super clingy and cuddly

loves being babied too

according to epnagi he has this whole automatic system in his apartment to clean and do laundry and i think he’d be fine if you appropriate that so no more cleaning!! but you will have to cook because that man literally only eats fruit jellies

genuinely how is he so built and not dying of malnutrition SKJFDSHKJ

he probably is terrible at coming up with date ideas so it’s up to you to plan things

again it’s not malicious i think for him just spending time with you is his ideal date!! like he doesn’t see the point in getting dressed up and going somewhere fancy when you could just eat at home and be comfortable together

but if it’s an important day or you tell him that you want him to suggest something for once, he WILL go all out (which means calling reo for advice and doing what he tells him to)

overall communication is key with him. he’s not particularly sensitive or in tune with other people’s emotions so being passive aggressive or expecting him to read your mind will honestly just end up making your mood worse because he will not pick up on the fact that something is wrong

but if you tell him what you want him to change he will happily do it!! he just needs to be told very clearly if you’re upset or need him to do something different

honestly it would be very refreshing. there are zero games with nagi and he doesn’t really try to hide anything — what you see is what you get 100% of the time

overall 10/10 would date idc haters dni he’s a sweetheart and he’s doing his best

[sadhours]

Cockwarming w dom billy whilst ur watching a movie. He’s so needy for u so u cockwarm his huge cock whilst trying to watch, staying still. But he keeps distracting u rubbing his hand on your back and nipples.Eventually he can’t take it so he rubs your pussy moaning into your neck and you squirt all over him.

you always have such fun requests, i loved writing this 😘

warnings: 18+ minors dni, pure pure smut

The movie has caught your attention, it was just something that you thought might be interesting just based on the VHS cover, Rollerball. You were just excited to spend time with your boyfriend, a lazy night lounging around watching movies. Billy had been so busy with work and the Camaro but he called this morning and said he was coming over tonight. It was a relief because you’d felt like maybe you both were too busy with work and you were growing distant.

Billy’s laying behind you, left arm draped over your side while he props his head up on his right hand.

“Could you imagine if this was a real sport?” he mumbles, his fingertips ghosting your exposed stomach where your tank top had ridden up.

With a snort, you reply, “Absolutely not. They’re practically killing each other. And I don’t get why some of them are on motorcycles.”

Billy laughs, his breath feels nice and warm against your ear and you slightly melt back against him, “Sci-fi, babe. That’s just how the games played.”

“I guess so,” you say, unconvinced.

Suddenly, you feel his hand move down and he starts to push your shorts and underwear down. You don’t protest, giggling softly as he kisses your jaw. You feel as he struggles to push his own sweats down and then the head of his cock is pressing against your entrance. It slips in easily and he pushes in until his hips are flush with your ass. But then Billy doesn’t move, an inch. No thrust or roll of his hips. He drapes his arm back over your side and keeps on watching the movie. You turn your head slightly to look back at him.

“What are you doing?” you ask, a little breathless.

He glances down at you, a smirk playing on his lips before he says, nonchalantly, “Just keeping my dick warm.”

It’s the most ridiculous thing but you don’t laugh because it also feels so intimate. Instead, you just roll with it, turning your attention back to the movie but you can’t stop from clenching around Billy’s thick cock. You feel him exhale sharply but he still doesn’t move his hips. It’s a bit frustrating but you like giving Billy the power so while it’s almost impossible not to grind back against him, you’re able to restrain yourself.

After some time has passed, you’re fully engrossed back in the movie because the plot has kind of picked up but then Billy’s moving his hand. First, smoothing it over the curve of your hips down to your thigh and all the way back up to your stomach. You think he’s going to start rocking his hips but, he keeps them still.

“Billy…” you whine, softly, a bit of a pout forming on your lips.

“What?” he says, airy like he’s not doing anything out of the ordinary.

His fingers sneak up your top, the pad of his middle finger circles against your hardened nipple and you can’t help but gasp, eyes falling shut. Billy hums, his lips so close to your ear which just makes you clench around him harder. He pinches your nipple and bites on your earlobe before sucking on it. You let out a soft moan, your hand shooting up to grip his forearm in attempts to ground yourself. You keep thinking any second he’s gonna flip you over and fuck into you, give you what you both want so bad.

But he doesn’t. Billy’s apparently intent on teasing you.

He mumbles something else about the movie but you can’t comprehend the words, your heads gone fuzzy as he casually plays with your nipple. You consider asking him to repeat himself for a moment but the thought dissolves when he bites your neck, soothing the tender skin with his tongue immediately after. You gasp, your body feels so hot and tingly that you can’t help but arch your back, causing Billy’s erection to pull out just slightly and then he’s making a strangled groan, fingers squeezing your breast like he’s a little frustrated by the movement. Like you’ve infiltrated his little game and he didn’t expect it.

“Billy,” you plead with desperation and like a gift, his hand smooths down your body until his fingertips meet your clit and he taps against it. “Yes,” you pant out, “please…”

“So eager,” he tsks and kisses along your jaw while moving his fingers against your clit in broad circles. It’s just exactly what you needed and you could care less about the dumb movie at this point, writhing against him as you hook your ankle behind his legs to spread yourself open more.

He makes all kinds of pretty sounds as you fuck yourself back on his cock, doing all the work for it. You flutter around him, feeling his tip brush against your spongy spot deep inside and you let out a low sound at the sensation it spreads over your whole body. All hot and dizzying. Billy chuckles lowly, slapping against your clit a couple of times, each blow makes your body jolt forward and back against him.

“Just couldn’t take it anymore, huh, doll?”

“You couldn’t either,” you bite back, placing your hand on his thigh so you could get better leverage as you grind against him.

He delivers a particularly hard thrust against you as he says in a throaty voice, “Yeah, you’re right.”

“Fuck!” you cry out, “again.”

Billy does, repeatedly as he rubs your clit faster. Your mouth hangs open, he licks, kisses and bites at your jaw while he fucks into you hard and relentless.

“You like that, baby?” he asks, breathy and on the verge of a whine. The sound it tears from you is foreign, definitely not a sound you knew you were capable of making. A desperate, kind of crazed groan. You feel Billy’s lips curl up against your skin when he hears it, his fingers spreading your lips apart and the cool air that hits your folds is incredibly intoxicating.

The sounds of his cock pumping in and out of your drenched hole fill the room and that’s when you notice the movie has ended. Billy moves his hand up to grab your jaw and turn your head so he can press a searing kiss against your lips while he drills into you from behind. The neighbors are gonna fucking hate you but you can’t help the slurry of cries and moans escaping from you. You know it’s loud because Billy shushes you, though he’s grinning wide when he does it.

“So good,” you babble, letting your eyes flutter shut when he moves his fingers back down to your clit and expertly works it. You arch against him, panting out, “Gonna cum…”

“Do it, baby,” he purrs, “Cum for me.”

He quickens his pace and you teeter over the edge, body seizing as your orgasm crashes into you, squirting all over his cock and hand. Billy groans, long and deep before he grabs a hold of your hip and fucks into you impressively harder.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he grunts before spilling inside you, coating your walls with his spunk and you hum happily, melting against him as the fruitions of your pleasure mixes. Billy doesn’t pull out right away but he wraps his arm around your middle and squeezes as he lays kisses against your shoulder while you’re still reeling in the aftershocks of a powerful orgasm.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come Morning Light

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x Reader

Synopsis: you and Peeta spend a lazy day together, baking bread and drawing. takes place after first games before cf

After learning from Effie that you had a rare day off, you made your way over to Peeta’s house in the Victors Village. Things had been weird between you since returning from the games and you wanted a chance to spend some time with him to settle things. You knocked on his door and when you found it open, you made your way inside.

“Oh. Hey.” He smiled when you found him in his kitchen.

“Hey. Did I hear correctly that we actually have the day off?”

“We do. And Effie made it very clear we’re not getting another one anytime soon. So we better enjoy it.”

“How are you gonna spend it?” You asked as you leaned against his kitchen table.

“I’m just gonna bake some bread and watch the rain. All boring stuff.” Peeta said with a soft smile. Peeta thought you would leave after that, but you didn’t budge.

“Why? What were you gonna do?” He asked curiously.

“Bother you.” You shrugged with a coy smile. Peeta returned the smile when he realized you wanted to hang out but didn’t know how to ask.

“Impossible. You never bother me.” He declared.

“Never? Even after all the times I’ve woken you up screaming?”

“No. Because when I hear screaming, I know that means I get to hold you. So no, you’re never a bother.” Peeta said as if it were the most simple thing in the world. You looked down to hide the smile that he always managed to put on your face. He could never know how much you missed that reassurance that he would always be there for you when you had your nightmares.

“You know, Haymitch once told me I could live a thousand lives and never deserve you.” You told him.

“Oh, did he?” Peeta smirked and folded his arms.

“I think it may have been one of the rare times he was right about something.” You said playfully. Peeta felt ecstatic to hear you say this, but played it cool.

“Well. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.” He replied. You smiled at him before going over to where he had his baking supplies set up.

“So what kind of bread are we making today?” You asked as you picked up his apron. He playfully snatched it from you and tied it around it waist. You pretended to be offended for a second, but he was quick to provide you with a matching apron. You didn’t know why he had two if he lived alone, but you didn’t question it. You just held out hope that maybe it was for you.

“I’m making challah bread. You can just sit there and look pretty.” Peeta nodded towards his kitchen table as he tied your apron around your waist.

“Peeta, I won the Hunger Games with nothing but a bow and some berries. What makes you think I can’t make bread?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I know you can’t make bread.” He insisted. “And I know that because before you win the game, you fed me disgusting soup.”

“You said you liked my cave soup.” You gasped.

“I was trying to spare your feelings.” He said with a cheeky smile. You pretended to be offended again and threw some flour at his face.

“Wow, Peeta. Next time you get injured, don’t come to me for help.”

“Well I definitely won’t come to you for food.” He said out of the corner of his mouth. You gasped and tried to throw more flour at him but he caught your wrist and spun you around. You smiled at the gesture before playfully shoving him away.

“Please let me help. I’ll do better then the cave soup. I promise.”

“Fine. You can mix this.” Peeta said as he poured two cups of something into a mixing bowl and handed it to you. You smiled proudly and mixed the contents of the bowl with a wooden spatula.

“Is this important? Am I being helpful?” You asked as you mixed.

“No. That was just two cups of flour. You didn’t actually mix anything.” Peeta admitted. You looked up at him in surprise and he was armed and ready with a handful of flour. He tossed it at your face and laughed as you coughed.

“Peeta. Let me help.” You whined as you cleaned your face.

“Just leave the baking to the baker, all right? I don’t show up in the woods and try to hunt.” He teased as he folded some eggs into his dough.

You watched him expertly mix the dough until a light and fluffy consistency was left in the bowl. You couldn’t help but admire the way he worked, moving as if with muscle memory. To get a better look, you wrapped your arms around his waist and rested your chin on his shoulder. Peeta stiffened for a moment, then relaxed into you.

“There’s no cameras in here, you know. You don’t have to pretend.” He said quietly. You were surprised by this comment and pressed your cheek against his shoulder.

“I’m not pretending anything.” You told him. “I just wanted to hold you.”

“So you’re not acting? You really want to help me bake bread?” Peeta asked skeptically as he turned around in your arms. You toyed with the strings of his apron for a second before looking up into his eyes.

“I really do.” You answered honestly. “We never get to do anything normal together. I just wanted one day where we can just be us.”

Peeta stared into your eyes for a while as he tried to decide whether he should believe you or not. He so badly wanted to, but could never fully let his guard down around you after you revealed the way you acted in the first games was partially an act.

“Okay. Come here. We have to knead the bread.” Peeta said once he decided he was satisfied with your answer. He pulled you by the hand and placed you in front of him before wrapping both arms around you.

“Oh no.” You chuckled dryly, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Oh yes. I’m a romantic. This is how we teach.” Peeta said as he put his hands over yours and began to knead the bread. You had seen this scene play out in old romantic movies that sometimes played on your TV and you knew Peeta must’ve seen them too. It was stupid, but it made you feel good inside.

“Do you teach everyone to knead bread like this?” You looked over your shoulder to question him.

“I don’t exactly go around teaching people how to make bread.” Peeta chuckled.

“Oh. I must be special then.” You smiled coyly and made eye contact with him over your shoulder. He was so close that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck and it sent tingles down your spine.

“Must be.” Peeta mumbled in your ear. You gulped and felt your face heat up, feeling grateful Peeta was behind you so he couldn’t see what he was doing to you. He continued to use his strong hands to make yours knead the bread.

“I hate the way this feels.” You said to break the silence.

“Then you’re gonna hate to hear that we have to do this for at least ten minutes.” Peeta laughed as you groaned.

“Peeta.” You whined but didn’t try to stop.

“You’re the one who wanted to stay and make bread. You could’ve run off into the forest to hunt with Gale, but you chose to spend your day off with me.” He reminded you.

“You’re right. I did.” You agreed with him as you squished the bread between your fingers.

“Where is Gale, anyway?” Peeta asked, and you could tell his intentions no matter how cool he tried to play it. He wanted to know if you were only with him today because Gale was busy.

“Probably at the Hob or something.” You shrugged. “I’m not really sure.”

“You don’t know where he is? Aren’t you guys always together?”

“Not always. I’m with you.” You said and looked over your shoulder at him. Peeta smiled timidly as he looked into your eyes.

“You’re with me?” He asked hopefully.

“Yeah. I’m with you.” You smiled at him before returned your attention to the bread.

“I can’t help but wonder for how long.” Peeta said softly. There was no self-pity in his voice, just an honest expression. You stared into the dough and felt guilty pile up in your stomach.

“I know it’s confusing. I know I’m confusing. I wish I had more answers to give you.” You said quietly without looking at him.

“It’s okay. I’m happy just doing this.” Peeta answered honestly.

“So am I.” You realized and leaned back into him.

You continued to knead the bread in comfortable silence as a gentle rain patter hit the windows. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt peace like this, peace only Peeta could give you.

“Is it done yet because it’s seriously grossing me out.” You said after a minute of the silence.

“It’s done.” Peeta chuckled. “You’re free.”

You slipped your hands out of his and quickly ran to the sink to rinse them.

“Ew, ew, ew.” You grimaced as you cleaned your hands. “That was grosser than when I had to clean out your leg wound.”

“Really? This is more disgusting than that?” Peeta laughed in surprise.

“Yes. I don’t know how you do it.” You stuck your tongue out as you dried your hands.

“I’m a baker. It’s my passion. I don’t know how you skin animals and don’t throw up.” Peeta remarked as he tossed the dough around a little and worked his hands into it. You shamelessly watched him do this for a second before snapping out of it.

“I’m a hunter. It’s my passion.” You humored him. Peeta looked at you fondly as he let out a laugh.

“You’re funny when you want to be.” He remarked as he put the loaf in the oven.

“Not you, though. You’re always funny. Even in the most life threatening situations, you’ve still made me laugh. And nobody can make me laugh.”

“I’ve noticed that. That nobody else can do it. Maybe that’s why I try so hard to be the one who can.” He admitted as he stared at you with that ever present fondness.

“Well it works.” You shrugged and held his gaze. You stared at each other for a moment before looking away in embarrassment.

“So how long does that bake for?” You asked him.

“30 minutes. Then we test it to see if it’s risen.”

“Hm. What should we do for the next 30 minutes?”

“Actually, there is something I’ve always wanted to do.” Peeta said with a timid smile.

“Uh oh. What’s that?” You asked coyly.

“Draw you. If that’s okay.”

“Haven’t you drawn me before?” You asked, knowing you’d caught glimpses of his sketches every now and then.

“Yes. But they’re all side profiles because I draw you when you aren’t looking. I want one of you facing front.”

“Okay.” You agreed as your face heated up from the request. Peeta grinned and went to grab his sketchbook as you sat on his couch. You felt the almost untouched furniture and felt sad that he lived in this great big house all by himself. When he came back, he positioned himself across from you and looked up eagerly.

“How should I pose?” You asked and raised your arms in a dramatic way you’d seen people in The Capital pose.

“Just relax. Sit how you would normally sit.” Peeta chuckled and began to sketch out your face.

“Well I don’t remember how to do that anymore.” You realized as you awkwardly shifted in your seat.

“Then just pick a way to sit and stay like that.” Peeta laughed again. You obliged and relaxed into his couch as you stared at him. He sketched the outline of your head while you studied his face closely. The sun was beginning to dim below the horizon, making Peeta’s foyer his favorite color, a soft orange. The way the light hit him made his blonde hair and eyelashes appear golden.

“Your eyelashes are so blond.” You commented without thinking.

“What?” Peeta looked up as his entire face turned red.

“I’ve never noticed that before. They’re so blond and shiny. They look almost golden from here. Like Effie’s hair.”

“This place gets really good lighting. It’s a shame I’m the only one who knows that.” Peeta said with a sad smile.

“Now you’re one of two who knows.” You replied, making his smile go from sad to lovelorn.

“That’s true.” He said softly. You exchanged a smile before he went back to drawing you. You felt like you were spying on him from his closely you were watching him but you never got to see him this peaceful. You studied the way his hands moved around his sketchbook and admired how they somehow knew exactly where to go.

“What are you staring at?” Peeta asked, catching you in the act. You gulped and knew you were caught, so you just came clean.

“Your hands.” You admitted and didn’t meet his eyes.

“Why?” He asked, face still in a rose blush.

“I can’t talk. I’m posing.” You said in an attempt to change the subject with a joke.

“You’re all done posing, actually. Come take a look.” Peeta said. You got up from your couch and leaned over him to look at what he had drawn. On his sketch pad was a perfect little charcoal drawing of you. You hadn’t posed for him yet he managed to perfectly capture your most neutral expression. You knew he most likely drew it from memory since you were definitely no help while posing.

“Peeta. That’s beautiful.” You gasped and looked into his eyes. Peeta looked up at you as you leaned over him and blinked slowly.

“Yeah. You are.” He spoke softly. You looked into Peeta’s eyes before letting your gaze drop down to his lips. Before you could psych yourself out, you leaned down to kiss him. Your lips had merely brushed his when the timer went off, making you jump at the sound.

“The bread is-“

Peeta cut your sentence off by tilting his chin the rest of the way up to kiss you. He sat up on his knees and slipped a hand behind your head to properly kiss you as the timer continued to go off in the background. When he pulled away, you were left breathless while he moved some hair off your forehead.

“Sorry. I wasn’t about to miss out on that kiss for bread.” Peeta smirked as he got off the couch. You watched him walk back into the kitchen and touched your fingertips to your lips. You were still buzzing from the kiss as you walked into the kitchen.

“It smells amazing. I can’t wait to try it.” You smiled politely while Peeta took the bread out of the oven. Once it cooled, you took a knife and went to cut into it.

“Woah woah, what are you doing?” Peeta stopped you.

“Cutting the bread?”

“You can’t just hack into it. There is an art to cutting bread, my dear. Here. Let me show you.” Peeta said as he wrapped his arms around you from behind again.

“Oh boy. Here we go.” You playfully rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

“It’s like this. Yeah?” He said into your ear. You stayed silent as you watched his hands work over yours to cut the bread into perfect diagonal slices.

“You staring at my hands again?” He asked suddenly, making you freeze.

“Maybe.”

“Why do you keep doing that?” He chuckled softly in your ear.

“I don’t know. Maybe I just like them and can’t really explain why.”

“I know the feeling.” He whispered in your ear after a beat of silence. Peeta let go of one of your hands and used it to touch your side braid.

“Your braid is on a different side today.”

“Oh. Yeah. It is.” You gulped as he toyed with the end of your braid. His hand moved to your shoulder as he placed a kiss on the side of your neck that your braid wasn’t on. It sent shivers down your spine and you didn’t want him to stop.

“I like it.” He whispered against your skin and placed another kiss on your neck.

“You noticed that it was different?” You asked as you turned around in his arms.

“I notice everything about you.” Peeta said simply. You looked into his eyes and smiled before taking hand hand. You brought two prices of bread over to his front door and opened it. You sat across from each other and watched the late afternoon rain that drizzled through the dimming sunshine. You bit into the warm bread and listened the rain falling while Peeta just watched you. When you noticed him staring, you gave him a pointed look and nudged his shoe with your foot.

“You know, Effie told me there’s a stove on the train.” You told him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you can show me how to make cake tomorrow?” You asked, making Peeta’s smile grow.

“Sure.” He nodded. “Anything you want.”

[lavenderspence]

silly poker night reveals | A.H.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader | Word Count: 1.8K

Content warning: basically just funny, or crack, alcohol mention, gambling addiction mention

Summary: A poker night with the silly crime men gets disrupted when a certain someone decides to prove he's not a psychic.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Spencer Reid, Patrick Jane, Richard Castle, Seeley Booth, Harvey Specter

A/N: One day, I just really wanted to write a fic with all my favorite silly crime men and have them be snarky to each other, and that’s what I did. This was literally written for the fun, for the vibes, for the hell of it, and then I just could not, not make it about my husband too. So, even if you’ve only watched one of the shows, give this a read, I think it's fun. enjoy🤭

and thank you to @reidsstargirl for beta reading this 🥺💕

masterlist

“You’re late.” You said after you pulled the door open. A rumpled blond was sitting in front of you - a white dress shirt, a black vest, and a gray suit jacket thrown over his shoulder. 

He flashed you a lazy smile, all teeth, “Yeah, well, when have you known me to be punctual?” He pushed past you, stepping into the apartment, with no care in the world.

His eyes ran around the room, finding it empty of any other presence, “You little minx, you lied to me.” He turned around, eyes running through your body. 

You smiled, eyes sparkling, “Yeah, well, I had to get creative if I wanted you to be on time, Jane. You have just enough time for a power nap, go enjoy the couch.” You threw his words back at him, and then waved a hand around, gusting to the emerald couch. 

You made your way to the kitchen, picking up a half-full glass of champagne. Walking around for a second, you looked at the man on the couch and waited for the 15 minutes until 7:30 to pass, so you could welcome your other guests too. 

You were waiting on Aaron and Spencer - they were coming straight from work, deciding to stay around an extra hour after you to finish up. Harvey was flying in from New York, Castle was driving down, and Jane was already snoring on your couch, and Booth was coming after closing a case. 

You arranged these poker games once every two months, depending on how all your schedules aligned. You’d worked with all of these silly assholes at one point in your life. Sometimes, they needed some time to just goof around and play some games, nothing serious. 

A few other of your colleagues joined occasionally - Rossi and Morgan loved the snark, and Emily was a fan of disturbing the testosterone with you from time to time. But all of them were busy, so it was just you and the usuals tonight. 

12 minutes later, you were welcoming everyone in, and Jane was rousing from his nap, looking even more rumpled than before. 

Spencer and Booth took their usual places in front of the TV, where you’d already queued a baseball game, and left them some snacks. The others each took a place at the table. 

You usually played just one game, so you took your place as the dealer and shuffled the cards. 

The conversation was sparse for a few minutes while you dealt the cards. 

“Why’s Clark Kent not playing?” Rick asked all of a sudden, gusting to Booth with his head. Booth usually joined the gathering every few games, still not entirely comfortable coming every time. His addiction wasn’t something that you’d brought up or were looking to bring up during a night like this. He usually stayed away from the table, engrossed in a game of baseball on tv, or bothering Reid for any useless facts and calling him a squint. 

“Let him be Rick, he needs the night out even if he isn’t playing.” Your answer was vague and it would stay that way as long as Booth wanted to be there and stay away from the game. 

“And the kid?” It was Jane’s voice, and he raised a hand and pointed at Spencer. He was usually sitting the games out too, since the last time you and Hotch had played with him he’d hustled you. 

“Go on, tell him.” You prompted Spencer, as he bookmarked the page he was reading. 

“I’m good at poker.” It wasn’t convincing and it wasn’t the truth. 

You shook your head with a laugh, “Nooo, Jane’s good at poker, Castle is good at poker. What are you good at?” You asked, your eyes meeting Aaron’s for a second. 

“I'm good at counting the cards, and banned from several casinos in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump.” Aaron’s lips twitched, a barely there grin appearing for just a second before it disappeared again. 

“Can I borrow him for a poker night with my author buddies? Maybe even Kate? I really need a win.” Castle asked. 

“He’s not winning against Kate, Rick. She will sniff him out before he even sits at the table. Now, Ryan and Esposito, on the other hand, you can easily steal some money from.” You told him as you took a sip from your drink. 

Everyone else was having a drink - whiskey was the preferred drink at your table, Booth was having a beer and Spencer was sticking to water. 

“Anything to drink Jane?” You asked again. 

“Chamomile tea, two sugars please.” 

“You do realize this is a poker game, and not an afternoon tea with Her Majesty, right?” Harvey’s usual snark was making a comeback for the first time tonight. 

“But her Majesty’s sitting right there.” Jane's chin jutted towards Rick. It was no secret that out of every man currently in the room, Rick was probably the most pretentious one, closely followed by Harvey.

“Haha, very funny.”

“I didn't lie, did I? I highly doubt that the Ferrari parked downstairs can be bought on a government salary.” Quipped Jane.

“How do you know it's not Harvey's?”

“Because I'm not a pussy driving a bright red Ferrari around New York City, thank you very much.” Harvey threw a few chips in the center of the table. 

“Well, said Ferrari costs anywhere between 70K and 120K. A Special Agent’s salary is around 135K, and 170K a year for Supervisory Special Agents. So realistically, yeah, we can’t afford it.” Spencer shrugged, turning a page in his book, not even phased by the looks everyone was throwing at him.

“I like this kid, he’s such a squint.” Booth laughed and gave Reid’s shoulder a little pat. Spencer tensed for a second but quickly relaxed again. 

“Dammed it, I overpaid 30K for this one.” Castle scoffed, shaking his head. 

Harvey produced a business card from somewhere and slid it toward Rick. 

“In case you need it. Fair warning though, get on my nerves, and I’m giving you to Louis.”

“Aww he has a heart.” Rick pouted.

“Never repeat that, never.” The brunette warned.

“And a lot of snark.” You smiled, looking around. They all might have serious jobs during the day, but they were all extremely silly when they were off of work.

The game continued on for another 15 minutes, conversion flying by until Booth’s voice rang around you.

“Okay Jane, no offense, but I need to know. What’s your shtick? What made the FBI want to hire you as a consultant?” Seeley asked, turning a sobriety chip in his hand. 

“Ugh, offense.” 

“Oh come on,” Booth waved a hand around, “I’m one of the best sharpshooters out there,” you rolled your eyes and so did Rick, “Hotchner’s an ex-ADA, Y/N’s a weapons expert and a linguist. Reid over here is basically Einstein.” 

“Well, actually, Einstein’s IQ is believed to be somewhere between 160 and 180, and mine’s 187, so technically, I surpass Albert Einstein.” Seeley wasn’t happy being interrupted again, but he let it slide, used to being interrupted by his own team.

“So Jane, what makes you such a special asset to the FBI? You're not still pulling the psychic card, are you?” To anyone, it might seem judgmental, the way he asked, but you knew it was anything but. He was curious, but he also valued his job too much not to ask. 

Jane leaned back in his chair, laying his cards face down and his hands on top of them. He looked on over you, head to toe, and then his eyes focused on your left - to Aaron. 

You saw his eyes shine for a second, and shook your head at him, already knowing what was going to come out of his mouth. 

“There is no such thing as psychics. Just a very good eye for reading people. Like for example, all night Hotchner’s been a broody, quiet bastard, safe for any time Y/N talks. His eyes light up and he relaxes back into his chair.” You watched Aaron’s posture too tight and reached a hand under the table to lay over his leg.

You were glaring daggers in Jane's direction, but once he was on a roll, there was no stopping him. “Earlier, when she put his glass down, his fingers on the hand closest to her body, twitched. His cologne is expensive, freshly applied - he probably has a spear bottle in his office.  He's been checking his watch, waiting for the night to end, so we'd all go home. Not him though, he's staying over.”

He played with the edge of his cards as he watched all eyes turn in your direction. 

“Oh, and the murderous look he's been giving Harvey every time he catches him looking at Y/N a bit too closely. Also, the clenching of the jaw - seriously knock it off, you won't have teeth forever.” Jane warned before he leaned back into his chair, looking just a tad too proud of himself.

The silence was defeating for a few moments, no one dared to utter a word.

“I don't think they wanted that to be shared just yet.” Rick muttered

“No shit.” Aaron's fingers wrapped around your own as he gritted out.

“And I didn't want to be lied to, but alas…” Jane added, flashing you a grin.

“Oh, you petty asshole.” A grin was making its way onto your face and you didn't know why.

“Oh, I'm about to become even more of an asshole - full house.” He threw his card in the middle of the table, close to the chips.

“Awww, you really are an asshole.” Rick leaned back in his chair, defeated and pouting.

“Takes one to know one, Dicky.” He smirked.

“Are you okay with this?” You turned around and asked Aaron quietly, for a moment forgetting the room full of men you’d worked with over the years.

“I'm good, although being profiled wasn't my idea of fun for the night.” He admitted just as quietly, reaching to push your hair away.

“I'm sorry.” He went to close the space between you before you heard the scraping of chairs.

“Okay kiddos, mom and dad need us to empty the apartment. Go on, out the door.” Seeley announced. You rolled your eyes at his bullshit before you started giving goodbye hugs. 

“If Hotchner's the dad, who's the daddy?” Harvey asked jokingly as he pulled you into a hug.

“Ask Louis tomorrow.”

“I didn't need the mental picture, thank you.” He shuddered and walked towards the door with the rest.

“Don't ask dumb questions then.” You called out, before you turned towards the good Doctor, “Oh and Spence? Keep this on the down-low, would you?” You asked, still not exactly ready to share this with your team, even after having the whole thing come out this way.

He smiled sheepishly and scratched at the back of his neck, “Yeah…too late.” and just then both your and Aaron's phones went off. 

There was no question about it, there was a fun morning waiting for you tomorrow. 

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