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mapis-putellas · 2 months ago

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𝑪𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓/𝑨.𝑷𝒖𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒔

The apartment door slammed open with more force than usual, startling you from your spot on the couch. You'd been halfway through icing your sprained ankle, already in the middle of a grueling recovery stint that left you both restless and frustrated. Alexia's sudden arrival immediately grabbed your attention, but it wasn't just the noise that alarmed you—it was the way she looked.

Her blonde hair was plastered to her forehead, and her kit, still damp with sweat from the game, clung to her frame. Her face was pale, eyes wide and red-rimmed, and the unmistakable sight of tears streaking her cheeks made your heart drop. She was upset—no, absolutely devastated. You could see it in the tremble of her hands and the way her chest heaved as she stood frozen in the doorway.

"Alexia?" you called, voice rising in alarm as you shifted to sit upright despite the dull ache in your ankle. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

She didn't respond immediately, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for something before landing back on you. When she spoke, her words came out in a frantic, tear-choked rush.

"I cheated," she blurted, her voice breaking completely on the last word.

You froze, the weight of her confession slamming into you like a ton of bricks. Your brain scrambled to make sense of the situation, but her words left you momentarily stunned. Alexia stood there, visibly shaking as she started rambling, the usual lilt of her accent thickened by her panic. Her English, already limited in normal circumstances, was now an incomprehensible jumble of words as she struggled to explain.

"I kiss…the other team...on, no! No, not all!" she stammered, throwing her hands up in frustration as if physically trying to force the words out. "Some—no, one. The lips!"

Your heart sank further as her jumbled explanation only made things worse. You couldn't think of anything to say, couldn't even begin to process what you'd just heard. The silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, as Alexia's tears started anew.

"I go," she said as she took a step backwards, her voice trembling as she wiped at her face with the back of her hand. "Pack... my things."

She turned sharply, disappearing down the hallway toward your shared bedroom before you could even think to stop her. You were still frozen, her rushed words replaying in your mind on a loop. The mention of lips, the devastation in her voice, her complete certainty that she'd just destroyed everything between you, it all made your chest ache.

Your phone buzzing on the coffee table pulled you from your stupor, and you quickly grabbed it, blinking down at the screen. Ingrid's name flashed across the display, and you picked up immediately, too desperate for clarity to question why she was calling.

"Hey," Ingrid started, her voice cautious but urgent. "Listen, I'm calling about Alexia. She left the stadium in a state, and I'm guessing she's with you?"

"She's here," you replied, your voice faint and shaky. "She said... she said she cheated."

There was a brief silence on Ingrid's end before she sighed heavily, a mix of exasperation and disbelief. "Okay, let me explain," she said quickly. "It was an accident. She was congratulating one of the players on the other team—typical double cheek kiss. But she got distracted when Mapi shouted something at her and... well, their lips brushed. Barely. It was nothing, but Alexia freaked out immediately."

Relief washed over you like a wave, almost knocking the breath from your lungs. "Wait, that's it? That's what happened?"

"That's it," Ingrid confirmed. "It wasn't even a real kiss. The other player laughed it off, but Alexia's been a wreck since. She wouldn't stop saying she needed to tell you."

You let out a long, shaky exhale, the tension in your body finally easing as everything clicked into place. "Thank you, Ingrid."

"No problem," she replied, the dial tome filling your ears as she hung up.

You let out a deep sigh of relief as Ingrid's words sank in. Alexia hadn't really cheated. The accidental brush of lips had been just that, an accident, no malice or betrayal attached. Your heart, which had felt ready to fall through the floor minutes earlier, now thumped with a mixture of relief and sympathy, because you knew now that Alexia had internalized her mistake as something much bigger than it was. She didn't deserve to feel this way, especially when she was the most loyal person you'd ever known.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you hobbled toward the bedroom. The door was half-closed, and you could hear soft sniffles coming from inside. You pushed it open gently, stepping in to find Alexia perched on the edge of the bed. Her head was bowed low, shoulders shaking as she struggled to zip her kit bag through her tears.

"Alexia," you called softly.

She didn't turn to look at you, her hand fumbling with the zipper. "I go," she said hoarsely, her voice thick with emotion. "I... cannot stay.”

You crossed the room quickly, lowering yourself onto the bed beside her. Her bag was only half-packed, clothes stuffed in at odd angles, as if she'd been in too much of a rush to care. She still wouldn't meet your eyes, her hand tightly fisting the material of one of the shirts she was in the midst of stuffing into the bag.

"Alexia," you said again, placing your hand over hers to still her frantic movements. "Stop for a second."

She froze at the contact, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the shirt tighter.

"I talked to Ingrid," you continued, your tone calm but firm. "She told me what happened."

Alexia's head shot up, her wide brown eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was a flicker of hope in them, but it was overshadowed by the deep sense of guilt that had clearly taken root. "She tell you?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"She told me everything," you confirmed, squeezing her hand gently. "And Alexia, you didn't cheat."

Her brows furrowed in confusion, her lips parting as if she wanted to protest but didn't know how.

"It was an accident," you explained, your voice steady. "You got distracted, and your lips brushed. It didn't mean anything, and I know you didn't mean for it to happen."

"But... lips," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"Yeah, your lips touched," you admitted with a soft smile, "but it wasn't a kiss, not really. Not the kind of kiss that means something."

Her face crumpled, and tears welled in her eyes again. "I'm so sorry," she choked out, her voice breaking as she dropped the shirt to cover her face with her hands. "I never want hurt you."

"I know, baby," you murmured, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. "I know you'd never hurt me. It's okay."

She leaned into you, her body shaking with quiet sobs as she clung to your shirt. You rubbed soothing circles on her back, pressing your lips to the top of her head as you let her cry it out.

"It's okay," you repeated, your voice soft and reassuring. "You don't have to keep punishing yourself. I'm not mad."

She pulled back slightly, her teary eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. "De verdad?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

"De verdad," you assured her with a nod, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I'm not mad, and I'm not upset. I love you, Alexia. Nothing's changed."

Her lip quivered, and she dropped her gaze to her lap. "But... I feel bad," she admitted quietly.

"I know," you said gently, tilting her chin up so she'd look at you again. "But you don't have to. You didn't do anything wrong." You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips, almost as though you were trying to wipe away the reminder of what had happened.

Alexia’s gaze flickers between your lips and eyes as if trying to gauge your sincerity. Then, slowly, she nodded, leaning back into your embrace with a heavy sigh. You tightened your hold around her, resting your cheek atop of her head as she sniffled softly into your shoulder.

For the rest of the day, Alexia was glued to your side. She followed you around the apartment like a shadow, her presence a constant reminder of how much she wanted to make it up to you, even though there was nothing to make up for.

"Do you need water?" she asked at one point, hovering over you as you propped your ankle up on the coffee table.

"I'm fine, baby," you replied with a small smile.

"Food? Blanket?" she pressed, her hands wringing nervously.

"I don't need anything, cariño," you assured her, reaching out to tug her down onto the couch beside you. "Just sit with me, yeah?”

She nodded obediently, curling up against your side with her head on your shoulder. You could feel the tension in her body, the way she was still holding herself too tightly, and you pressed a kiss to her temple in an attempt to soothe her as you held her close.

"You're not in trouble," you reminded her softly, your fingers brushing through her hair. "You don't have to keep trying to fix something that isn't broken."

She let out a shaky sigh, her arms tightening around your waist. "I just... I want you happy," she murmured, her voice muffled against your shirt.

"You make me happy," you replied easily, tilting her head up with a gentle nudge beneath her chin so she could see the sincerity in your eyes. "Even when you're being dramatic and overthinking everything."

Her lips twitched into the smallest of smiles, a faint blush coloring her cheeks.

"You're silly, mhh?" you teased, brushing your thumb over her cheekbone.

"Sí," she agreed softly, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. "Pero... tuya."

"Yes," you said with a grin, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Mine."

The rest of the evening passed quietly, Alexia's clinginess turning from guilt to simple affection as the tension between you eased completely. By the time you both settled into bed that night, her head resting on your chest and her arm draped across your stomach, the events of the day felt like a distant memory.

"I love you," she murmured sleepily, her voice barely audible.

"I love you too, baby.” you replied, your fingers tangling in her hair as you held her close.

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan

#soft alexia putellas #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas x you #alexia putellas #woso community #woso x reader #woso appreciation #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso fanfics

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magicians-abode · 7 months ago

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"You're sweeter than wine"

How would Dungeon Meshi characters (men) react to you telling them this phrase?

hopefully this isn't ooc, I tried my very best to make it accurate to each character's personality but, well, it's kinda hard for me. Anyways, here's me proving I haven't died and that I'm still willing to write despite my brain being a wreck because of anxiety. Hope you enjoy!

Laios: he's not exactly sure what you mean, but he smiles regardless of his confusion. "Oh! Thank you" but then the doubt crawls up his spine and it makes him ask "what kind of wine? Red? White? Rosé? They're all pretty different in their own way, you know?" so he starts making you explain exactly what you meant, which makes him end up smiling even more now that he knows exactly what you had wanted to express to him since the beginning.

Kabru: I feel like he's used to people thinking he's attractive, he's very analytical when he knows someone new, always paying attention to every detail, every gesture, every roll of their eyes or even when their breath hitches. So when you walked over to him and said hi, but your next words were such a thing, he froze for a moment, blinking owlishly. A little hint of a blush and a laugh erupt from him. He's both amused and flattered by how blunt and sudden you were with it, but he let's you know he appreciates the gesture by saying something along the lines of: "thank you, I could say the same thing about you" and then winking one of his pretty icy blue eyes. (I think I'm fainting)

Chilchuck: not a fan of sweet things, unless it's your compliments, so at first he's taken aback, but then he chuckles. "Well, where did that come from?" He tries to tease you, poking wherever he can reach on your body (depends on how tall you are, if you're a tall-man he probably pokes your stomach) he has a cocky smile on his face, and through all the teasing it probably looks like he wasn't really affected by it, but deep down he really, really liked it. It was a funny thing to say so suddenly, but that didn't mean it didn't make him feel happy and flattered. As an alcohol enjoyer, he finds it funny you're using such an analogy for him.

Thistle: "What??" He's a bit surprised you'd say that to him of all people, but still, a soft blush appears on his cheeks due to embarrassment and a bit of confussion because he just received a compliment from someone he loves. We all know that when he cares for someone, he cares... a lot. So it means a lot to him when you choose to compliment him in such a way, even if he doesn't really get it, since it's canon he doesn't like to drink, at all, but he supposes by your comment that all wines must be sweet then and therefore it makes sense for you to say that. (Even if he doesn't think he's sweet to begin with)

Yaad: he's a softie, so his immediate reaction is a surprised expression, accompanied by a soft blooming blush on his cheeks, and then a smile. "Oh, um, thank you..." he's not sure what wine tastes like, since he didn't use to drink even when he was able to taste food and drinks, but he remembers people around him enjoying a cup of wine from time to time before, which makes him capable of appreciating the compliment. Once the initial shock calm down quickly, he composes himself and with a smile, returns the compliment: "You're very sweet yourself" keep in mind that while he's saying it he's picturing a jar of honey in his brain since it's known that honey is sweet and soft. Just like you ;)

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aspenmissing · 15 days ago

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Oneshot Request: Imagine, Jayce has a younger sister (age gap of 2-3 years) and he ships Sis Reader x Viktor sooo badly. Like, he tries everything, that these two finally become a thing. When Sis Reader x Viktor are after a looong slow-burn-romance-thing in a relationship, Jayce switches from the supportive, older brother to the "Hurt my baby sister and I throw you of the bridge". What would Sis Reader and Viktor too stunned to speak xD

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴀᴛᴄʜᴍᴀᴋᴇʀ

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ!ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ x ʟᴏᴠᴇʀ!ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 2530 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴄᴏᴄᴋʙʟᴏᴄᴋ ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ (ꜱᴏʀᴛᴀ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ɪ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ! ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀɴᴏɴ!

ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 | ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ

Jayce had always been a meddler. Y/N had known this better than anyone, having grown up with him constantly poking his nose into her business. Viktor, too, had quickly learned this once he and Jayce began working together. But neither of them could have foreseen just how far Jayce would go when he decided they should be together.

It started subtly enough—small comments here and there.

“Hey, Y/N, did you know Viktor’s favourite tea is chamomile? You should bring him some next time you’re in the lab. He’d love that.”

Or, “Viktor, don’t you think my sister’s the perfect blend of brains and beauty? Honestly, if she weren’t my sister, I’d set her up with my best friend. Oh, wait—that’s you!”

Y/N would groan, cheeks aflame, while Viktor shifted uncomfortably, his grip on his cane tightening as though it might shield him from Jayce’s relentless teasing. But Jayce didn’t stop. If anything, he doubled down.

He began orchestrating scenarios to throw them together. “You two can handle this project alone; I’m swamped,” he’d say, conveniently forgetting to show up for their meetings. He hosted dinners and somehow always managed to seat them next to each other. He even pulled blatant stunts like disappearing mid-lunch with a wink and a mumbled, “You two need some alone time.”

“Jayce, this is getting ridiculous,” Y/N hissed at him one evening as they sat at a dinner he’d arranged, her seat—of course—right next to Viktor’s. Jayce shot her an innocent grin that fooled absolutely no one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied smoothly, though the mischievous twinkle in his eye betrayed him.

Meanwhile, Viktor tried his best to remain neutral, though the faint blush creeping up his neck was impossible to miss. He’d never been one for open displays of affection, but being caught in the orbit of Jayce’s scheming made things more complicated than they needed to be.

It wasn’t as though they didn’t like each other. In fact, Y/N and Viktor’s connection ran deep. They shared quiet moments in the lab, bouncing ideas off one another late into the night. Viktor appreciated Y/N’s sharp mind and her unwavering kindness, and Y/N admired Viktor’s brilliance and the depth of his character. Their bond was undeniable, built on a foundation stronger than even the most advanced Hextech core.

But there were obstacles. Viktor hesitated, fearful that his health and the demands of his work would burden her. Y/N, for her part, worried that crossing the line from friendship to romance might jeopardise everything they’d built. And so, they tiptoed around their feelings, hesitant to take the leap.

Jayce, however, was having none of it.

One day, Jayce stormed into the lab with the determination of a man on a mission. “Alright, that’s it!” he declared, startling both Y/N and Viktor, who had been quietly working at opposite ends of the room. “You two like each other. Everyone knows it. Just admit it already!”

They froze, wide-eyed and completely caught off guard, Viktor nearly dropping the tool in his hand while Y/N slowly turned to glare at her brother.

“Jayce, this is hardly—” Viktor began, his voice tinged with discomfort, only to be cut off.

“I’m not leaving until you confess,” Jayce announced, crossing his arms and planting himself firmly in the centre of the lab like an immovable object.

“Jayce!” Y/N’s voice was a mix of embarrassment and exasperation. “You can’t just—”

“Confess!” he demanded dramatically, pointing between them like he was officiating a duel.

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, muttering something under her breath, while Viktor nervously adjusted his grip on his cane. The two exchanged a quick glance, a silent conversation passing between them in the space of a heartbeat.

Finally, Y/N let out a long sigh and folded her arms. “Fine. You want the truth?”

Jayce straightened, his grin triumphant. “Yes, finally!”

She hesitated for a moment, as if weighing her options, before shrugging. “We’re already dating.”

The room fell silent, and for a moment, it was as if Jayce hadn’t fully processed what she’d said.

“You’re… what?” he finally sputtered, his grin faltering.

“Dating,” Viktor repeated softly, though his tone was more resigned than triumphant. He glanced at Y/N, then back at Jayce, as if bracing for an explosion. “For a while now.”

Jayce blinked, his gaze darting between the two of them. “Wait. How long is ‘a while’?”

Y/N exchanged another glance with Viktor, who gave a tiny shrug. “Not that long,” she hedged. “Just… a few months.”

“A few months?” Jayce’s voice shot up an octave. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“Exactly,” Y/N said with a pointed look, “because of this.” She gestured to the dramatic scene unfolding around them. “Do you know how unbearable you’d have been if we’d told you straight away? You’d have taken all the credit!”

“Of course I would’ve!” Jayce said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because it’s true! I’ve been trying to set you two up for ages!”

“That’s precisely why we didn’t tell you,” Viktor said, his voice dry but laced with a hint of amusement.

Jayce’s jaw dropped, his hands flying to his hips. “So you mean to tell me that I did all the work, and you two didn’t even have the decency to let me gloat about it?”

“We were sparing ourselves the torment,” Y/N replied flatly.

Jayce groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Unbelievable. All this time, I’ve been orchestrating the perfect set-up, and you were already together.”

“Well, not everything revolves around you,” Y/N teased, unable to hide her smirk.

Jayce stared at her, then at Viktor, before finally throwing his hands up in defeat. “Fine. Fine! But I’m still claiming partial credit for this.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Of course you are.”

“And,” Jayce added, his tone suddenly serious as he stepped closer to Viktor, “now that I know, let me make one thing perfectly clear.” He placed a heavy hand on Viktor’s shoulder, his gaze narrowing. “If you hurt my baby sister—even by accident—I will throw you off the bridge. Are we clear?”

Viktor froze, his grip tightening on his cane as his lips parted in stunned silence. “I… Yes, of course,” he stammered.

“Jayce!” Y/N exclaimed, shoving her brother aside. “What is wrong with you?”

“What?” Jayce said defensively. “I’m just making sure he knows the rules.”

“Your rules are insane,” Y/N shot back, though her voice lacked any real heat.

Viktor, still processing, looked between the two siblings, his expression caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “I appreciate… your concern,” he said carefully, his voice tinged with dry humour.

Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “This is exactly what we were trying to avoid.”

Jayce just laughed, his smug grin practically lighting up the room. “You can’t avoid me forever. And hey, now I get to say I was right all along!”

One evening, Y/N and Viktor were in her flat, quietly enjoying the rare tranquillity of each other’s company. They were cuddled up on the sofa, Viktor’s arm draped loosely over her shoulders while she rested her head against his chest. The soft glow of the lamp lit the room in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows that danced gently across the walls. A forgotten cup of tea sat on the coffee table, its steam now dissipated as the pair lost themselves in the quiet comfort of the moment. Viktor’s slender fingers traced absent patterns along Y/N’s arm, his touch soothing and familiar, while she smiled softly, her eyes fluttering closed.

The peace shattered as the door burst open without warning.

“Oi, you two better be dressed!” Jayce bellowed, covering his eyes dramatically with one hand as he stormed in, his heavy footsteps echoing across the room.

Y/N jolted upright in alarm, nearly elbowing Viktor in the ribs in the process. “Jayce! What the hell are you doing here?” she shouted, glaring at her older brother.

Viktor, who had been startled but managed to maintain his composure, arched a brow and deadpanned, “Perhaps next time, you could try knocking? Just a suggestion.”

Y/N snorted at Viktor’s sarcasm, but her frustration returned as Jayce peeked through his fingers with a smirk.

“Relax,” Jayce said, lowering his hand with an exaggerated sigh of relief when he saw they were fully clothed. “Just doing my duty as a protective older brother. Wouldn’t want to accidentally walk in on something scarring.”

“Jayce!” Y/N groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I cannot believe you.”

Jayce, grinning ear to ear and clearly unbothered, strutted over to the sofa like he owned the place. Without so much as a by-your-leave, he plopped himself down between them, making himself comfortable as the sofa sank under his weight. Y/N and Viktor, now separated, exchanged equally exasperated looks.

“What’s up, lovebirds?” Jayce asked casually, slinging an arm along the back of the sofa and stretching out with an air of smug satisfaction.

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it was a miracle they didn’t get stuck. “Jayce, seriously? Don’t you have your own flat to bother people in?”

Ignoring her entirely, Jayce turned his attention to Viktor. “So, Viktor,” he began, his grin widening, “how’s it going? Treating my baby sister right, yeah?”

Viktor leaned back slightly, his expression both amused and weary. “I was under the impression that I am, though I’m sure you’ll correct me if I’m mistaken.”

“Good man,” Jayce said with a nod, clapping Viktor on the shoulder. “Because if you don’t…” He leaned in with mock seriousness. “You know what happens.”

Viktor tilted his head, his tone dry. “Let me guess—‘the bridge’?”

Jayce’s grin turned positively wicked. “Exactly! You’re catching on. I like that.”

“Jayce,” Y/N snapped, shoving him in the side with her elbow, “leave. Now.”

“Not until I’m satisfied,” Jayce replied smugly, refusing to budge.

Y/N sighed heavily and leaned back against the sofa, folding her arms. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re were cuddling,” Jayce pointed out with mock horror, waving his hand between the two of them. “What happened to ‘no PDA in front of me’?”

“Oh well I'm sorry that I wasn't expecting you to barge in here!” Y/N shot back, her voice rising in frustration.

Jayce shrugged nonchalantly. “Details, details.”

Viktor, now fully embracing the absurdity of the situation, chuckled softly. “He does make things… lively, I’ll give him that.”

“Don't encourage this,” Y/N muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose as Jayce stretched out even further, looking far too pleased with himself.

“What can I say?” Jayce said with a self-satisfied grin. “I’m the perfect mix of annoying and lovable. You’re welcome.”

Y/N groaned audibly, slumping back against the cushions. Viktor turned to her, his lips quirking into a faint smile before glancing back at Jayce. “So this is part of dating her, I take it?” he asked, his voice dry with amusement.

“Oh, absolutely,” Y/N said, throwing her hands up in mock surrender. “Welcome to the chaos. You’ve been warned.”

Jayce leaned forward, clapping Viktor on the back again with a grin. “You’re basically family now, Vik. Get used to it.”

“Lucky me,” Viktor murmured, his words edged with dry humour, though the warmth in his voice was unmistakable. He shot a sideways glance at Y/N, catching the faintest glimmer of a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, her head resting comfortably against Viktor’s shoulder. She closed her eyes for a moment, soaking in the rare, peaceful serenity of their quiet evening, before speaking in a soft, almost resigned tone. “You’re never going to let us have a peaceful evening, are you?”

Jayce, unfazed by the irritation in Y/N’s voice, leaned back with a smirk plastered on his face, the twinkle in his eye as mischievous as ever. “Not a chance. I personally do not wanna be an uncle just yet,” he said dramatically, folding his arms over his chest as he settled even more comfortably on the couch. “And I’m sure Mama doesn’t want to be a grandmother either,” he added with a wink, as though the suggestion of the future was an absurdity he found utterly amusing.

Despite her earlier frustration, Y/N couldn’t suppress the small smile that tugged at her lips. She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes flicking briefly to Viktor, who had to fight back a grin of his own at Jayce’s antics. As maddening as her older brother was, Y/N couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. His chaotic, overbearing nature, his complete disregard for personal boundaries—it was all familiar, and in its own way, endearing. This was Jayce, the one who’d always been there, pushing her buttons, teasing her endlessly, yet somehow making everything feel... just a little brighter. Infuriating, sure, but undeniably hers.

“Are you done?” she asked, though her tone had softened, and her eyes were starting to glint with a fondness she couldn’t quite suppress.

Jayce, entirely unperturbed, leaned back even further, his arms casually draped across the back of the sofa as though he owned the place. “Not a chance,” he replied cheekily. “I’m just making sure you two know what you’re getting into.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, her head

sinking back against Viktor’s shoulder again as she let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “I swear, you’re like a shadow that never leaves.”

Jayce’s grin only grew wider as he leaned forward slightly, looking at her with a knowing glint in his eye. “You love it, admit it. No one’s ever bored when I’m around.”

Y/N sighed again, but there was no real heat behind it this time. “I swear, Jayce, you should’ve been a plague. No one can get rid of you.”

“Don’t think of me as a plague,” Jayce said dramatically, his hand pressed to his chest in mock hurt. “I prefer ‘your ever-loving, annoyingly good-hearted older brother.’”

Viktor, who had been watching the exchange with mild amusement, raised a brow and gave Jayce an amused, exasperated look. “I think I’ve got a pretty good handle on what I’m getting into,” he replied dryly. “I’ve been warned.”

Jayce leaned in, lowering his voice as if imparting a secret. “It’s not just a warning. It’s a life sentence.”

Y/N groaned in mock defeat, now fully resigned to the fact that Jayce was here to stay. “This is my life now, isn’t it?”

“Yup,” Jayce confirmed with an exaggerated nod, looking overly pleased with himself. “And don’t you forget it.”

Viktor chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement as he looked over at Y/N. “You really didn’t warn me enough, did you?”

She gave him a playful eye roll. “You really thought I could prepare you for this?”

Jayce stretched out dramatically, his legs sprawling across the couch, as if making himself even more at home. “You’d be surprised how adaptable you get. I’m like the chaos you can’t escape.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, but there was a faint smile playing at the corner of her lips. Even if she’d never admit it aloud, she wouldn’t change her chaotic, overbearing family for anything.

#Arcane #arcane fandom #arcane fluff #jayce x platonic!reader #jayce x you #jayce x y/n #jayce talis x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x you #viktor x y/n

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leclerc-hs · 7 days ago

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save a bull! part 2 - cl16

pairing: bull rider!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which a city girl meets a cowboy OR charles finds himself infatuated with the visiting city girl warnings: language, NOT PROOFREAD, smut under the cut!, bad writing? word count: ~3k author's note: SURPRISE SHAWTYYYYY! hiiiiiiii I missed you all SOO much. I'm sorry if this isn't good I'm really really rusty on my writing since it's been a few months but I'm trying to get back into it. if you hate this I'm SORRY lol but I love u all and I hope you like it anyways. xoxo let me know what you want to see next.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The tension is palpable, a charged current zipping through the air as his touch seems to melt every bit of composure you had left. His grip on your back is firm, but not forceful—just enough to make you aware that he’s in control of this moment.

He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t back down, his eyes locked on yours like he’s daring you to argue, daring you to say something that will break the silence. But all you can think about is how his breath feels on your skin, how his fingers leave a trail of heat where they touch.

Your brain momentarily froze. In no fucking world, would I let you wear anyone’s but mine.

You could feel the flush of your cheeks start to burn not only from the alcohol consumed but his confession. The heat of his fingers seeping through the thin material of your dress was just the icing on the cake.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning forward so the edges of his lips graze your ear. “You want a hat, you take mine.”

He pulls his head back a few inches, his eyes dipping to your lips for a brief second that doesn’t go unnoticed by you.

“You’re insane.”

“You keep calling me crazy,” he says, his voice low, gravelly, “but you’re the one standing right here, aren’t you?”

“Delusional.” Your pulse races, lips parting slightly, as if you might say something else, but all that comes out is a shallow breath.

His fingers sprawl across your lower back, pulling you towards him even closer if possible.

“So you’re telling me that if I slipped my hand up your little dress right now, you wouldn’t be soaked?”

You don’t know what to say. He’s got you right where he wants you.

“Maybe I like crazy,” you finally murmur, your voice betraying the nerves simmering beneath the surface.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, his breath mixing with yours. “I thought you might.”

The days since that night have been a blur. His words echo in your mind, louder than anything else, like a broken record. You’ve tried to push it down, tried to bury it with distractions, anything that would stop you from thinking about the way his fingers lingered on your skin, the way his eyes burned into yours. But the more you push, the more it pulls.

And now, here you are, waiting for him again.

“I can’t believe we have to go back to the city in a few days already.” Abigail groans— the two of you sprawled in the grass, just staring out at the open fields.

You looked down at the grass, your fingers ripping some of it to play with. “I can’t believe I’m sad to leave.”

You both fall into fits of laughter. “Yeah, but that’s just cause of a certain cowboy.”

You shake your head, looking at Abigail with the biggest smile. “I’ve never felt so at peace like this before. The quiet is nice.”

You fall into a comfortable silence for a few moments, letting the harsh sun beat on your skin.

“So when is he coming to get you?”

You open your mouth to answer, but the sound of a pick-up truck turning on the gravel of the driveway has you shutting it.

Abigail moves to stand up, her hands reaching down towards you to pull you up from the grass, then turns to Charles, who is slipping out the driver side door with a smile pulled on his mouth.

“Don’t keep her out too late or she’ll be grounded.” Abigail jokes, which earns her a small smack to her arm from you.

He dips his head, tilting his hat towards the both of you, “Don’t worry, she’s in good hands.” His voice is low, laced with something you can’t quite place—something that makes it feel like he is the one making the promises, not you.

Abigail gives a final wink to you before heading back into the house, leaving you both alone.

You watch her walk away, trying to pretend you didn’t feel that little jolt in your chest. But as soon as she’s out of an earshot, Charles turns his attention back to you, his gaze more intense than before.

“So, you ready for a ride?” He asks, the corner of his mouth curling into something dangerously close to a smirk.

You hesitate, “And if I said no?”

He chuckles, and its like the sound rolls right through you, making your heartbeat pick up. “Not if you want to earn that cowboy hat,” he says, the teasing glint in his eyes.

The soreness settles in deep, a quiet ache in your muscles you didn’t even know you had. Horseback riding hadn’t seemed like such a workout when Charles first suggested it—hell, you thought it would be a relaxing, leisurely ride through the fields.

But now, after hours spent clinging to the saddle, your body is sending you sharp reminders of how much work it actually takes to stay upright and in control. Your thighs are tight, your lower back sore, and every small movement feels like effort.

As you stretch out your arms, trying to relieve some sort of tension, you can’t help but smirk. You’d never expected a day with Charles to feel like this— like you’d been put through the paces, not just by the horse, but by him too.

It’s the subtle shifts in his movements, the way he guides the horse with just a slight tug of the reins, his eyes constantly scanning the horizon, and the way his hand brushes against yours when he reaches for the reins that keeps your attention.

“You alright there?” His voice is low, teasing, but there’s a hint of something more when he looks you over, taking in the way you’re moving a little more carefully than earlier.

You roll your shoulders. “I feel like I just ran a marathon on a horse.”

He laughs, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the price of learning how to ride. But you did good, yeah?”

The way he says it, like its a compliment, makes you stand a little taller despite the soreness. “I didn’t expect it to be so…intense,” you admit, trying to ignore the way his gaze lingers just a second too long on your lips.

“Nothing about this place is every just easy,” he says with a shrug. “But, I guess that’s what makes it worth it.”

The weight of his hand at your back sends a warm shiver up your spine, a subtle pressure thats both grounding and electric. You try not to focus too much on the way his touch seems to anchor you, or the way your pulse quickens with every step toward the open field.

The picnic is simple—just a blanket, a few baskets, and a clear view of the sun slowly starting its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the land. It’s the kind of peaceful scene that feels too much like a dream. And yet, it’s real.

As you both settle onto the blanket, Charles moves with an easy confidence, reaching for the baskets without breaking the quiet tension that lingers in the air.

“You hungry?” His voice is casual.

You nod, still not quite sure how to handle the way your body feels with him so close. There’s something about his presence that makes it hard to think straight, hard to remember you’re supposed to be relaxing.

“I think I could eat,” you reply, your voice softer than usual. Your eyes flick up to meet his, and you catch the subtle way his lips curl into a half-smile, like he knows exactly what you’re thinking without needing to hear it.

He uncorks a bottle of wine, and pours a glass for the both of you.

The quiet stretches again, comfortable yet heavy, as you both settle in.

Charles leans back, resting on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you as you take a sip of wine. “You know,” he says after a beat, his voice low and thoughtful, “I didn’t think I’d be sharing a moment with you like this today.”

You swallow hard, your fingers tightening slightly around your glass as you glance over at him. “What do you mean by that?”

His smirk softens into something almost like a grin, “You didn’t think you’d be here, either, did you?”

You want to brush it off, act like its just another evening out here, but something in the way he says it makes your chest tighten. You hesitate for a moment before finally responding. “Guess not. Guess I didn’t know what I was getting into.”

The air shifts around you as he watches, his gaze intense and focused, like he’s weighing his next move. “Well, I hope you’re not regretting it.”

You place the barely touched glass of wine in your hand, onto the grass, and then turn to Charles. Your heart races, and for a split second, you’re sure he’s talking about more than just the picnic.

Your gaze drifts down to the hat resting beside him, the brim casting a shadow over the worn denim of his jeans. It sits there, between you two, almost purposefully. The thought hits you unexpectedly—the way its placed, almost like a bridge, an offering, a challenge.

There’s something oddly magnetic about it, the way it ties him to the land, to this place, to who he is. The fact that it’s so close, just inches away, and yet you feel like you have to earn it somehow.

You glance back up to find him watching you, his eyes lingering on yours with that quiet intensity, like he's aware of your thoughts without you needing to voice them. There’s no teasing, no playful smirk this time—just that still, steady gaze. And for a moment, it feels like everything is poised on the edge of something important.

His fingers twitch, like he's fighting the urge to reach out, to pull the hat closer or to pull you closer.

"You thinking about it?" he asks, his voice quieter now, almost too casual, like he’s pretending he doesn’t know exactly what you’re thinking.

You blink, and your heartbeat picks up a fraction of a beat. "What do you mean?"

"The hat," he says, almost like it's obvious, though there’s a small glimmer in his eyes that tells you he knows what it’s really about. “You ever worn one before?”

You shake your head slowly, the question hanging in the air, the tension between you both thickening with the simple exchange.

His hand moves just slightly, like he’s about to offer it to you, but he pauses, letting the silence stretch for a moment too long.

"You know," he says, his voice low, as if the words are meant only for you, "it doesn’t look right on just anyone."

The weight of that statement settles over you like a slow burn, and your thoughts race, caught between wanting to prove him wrong and knowing, deep down, that this—whatever this is—has already shifted something inside you.

Fuck it.

You know he’s watching the way your fingers dance along the brim, your thumb tracing the edges as if you’re deciding whether to make the commitment or leave it in its place between you two.

Your fingers continue to toy with the edges of the brim, before you grasp it in between the pads of your fingers, picking it up thoughtfully as you weigh the symbolism of it. It feels heavier than it should in your hands.

“Don’t tease me.” His gaze never leaves you, steady and unblinking, as though he’s waiting for you to put the hat back onto the blanket again.

You could easily put it on, feel it settle on your head, feel his presence there with you. Finally, you look up at him.

“You said it doesn’t look right on just anyone,” you murmur, your voice low, like the words are meant for you and him only. “But what if it fits?”

The air seems to thicken, the question more loaded than it should be.

He shifts his hips just slightly, still leaned on the back of his elbows as he stares at you. “You’re not just anyone.”

It’s a statement more than an answer. And it leaves your stomach in knots as you raise the hat to your head, pausing before it touches the hairs of your head.

“Trying to figure out if this is going to be some cruel joke.” He groans. “Don’t do it, unless you mean it.” His voice is rough.

You place it on your head, looking at him with a wicked smirk and glint in your eyes. “What was it you said about me liking crazy?”

He gives you no more than two seconds, before he’s sitting up from his arms and quite literally yanking you onto his lap. Your legs straddle him, and you want nothing more than to rub yourself against him.

His eyes trace every feature of your face and then land back on your eyes. The look on his face so serious, you wonder if he’s alright.

“Just kiss me alr-“

Your words are cut off almost instantly as the palm of his hand swallows the back of your neck and pulls your lips down to his. You can feel the vibrations of his groan into the kiss, and you feel like you might combust right then and there.

Your hips rut against his lap involuntary as his tongue slips into your mouth like he owns it. There’s no more teasing. His own mouth takes over yours in deep, intoxicating kisses, that have you arching for more.

His hands glide down the swell of your back, before landing on your hips and guiding them to work against his groin.

The tantalizing touches create a surge of heat forming in your stomach, before you pull away from him, his eyes glazed with a sort of hunger it seems only you can fill for him. You lift your hips from his for a second, giving him time to unbutton your jeans and yank them off of your body, while he finds the time to unbutton his and pull them down halfway.

“I don’t think I can wait.” You seem to say, your voice laced with desire at the sight of his hardened cock before you.

“So don’t.” He huffs, before pulling you down on him, his mouth overpowering yours instantly. You start to lower yourself, more than ready to quench this thirst you’ve had for days.

He hisses through his teeth when the head of his cock slides between your thighs. His fingers lock on your hip, stopping you from getting any lower. “I need to know you’re 100 percent about this.”

“I’m half nude in the middle of a field for you, what do you think?”

“I’m serious.” He grits, he sounds almost pained as he feels just how soaked you are against the head of his cock. “You do this, and you’re mine.”

Your eyes meet his in this moment and you feel your heart pounding against your chest. “Does that make you mine too?”

“I’ve been yours since you stepped foot in this town.” He says, like he didn’t even have to think about a response. Like it was in his nature.

“Good.”

You drop your hips down further, effectively slamming him right into you. You both cry out at the pressure, the stretch, and the depth he’s hitting you with at this angle. It’s all perfect.

“Oh my fuck.” He tenses. "You look fucking unreal in my hat."

You grind against him, like you cant get enough, as he fucks up into you as merciless as possible. Its as if neither of you can get close enough. His arms envelop you as he pulls you back, letting him fall to his back as thrusts into you powerfully.

“Charles,” you whisper. “I need..”

You don’t even know what you need. All you know is that you need more of him.

“Yeah?” His voice is low, so rough in your ear, you could come just from hearing it. “Fucking gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

His voice is hoarse as he slips a hand down your back, gripping your ass in his hands and pushing you to meet his thrusts even harder.

It doesn’t take the long. You both shatter completely, groaning and moaning against the blanket.

“Oh fuck.” His arms are tense as he snaps his hips into you, dropping his head back against the blanket as you careen forward with a cry. You both can hear the squelch of the both of you, and it somehow makes it even hotter as he keeps going.

You sag against his chest and it rises and falls deeply as you both come down from the high.

“My god sweetheart.” He chuckles, his fingers sweeping your hair behind your ear as you lift your head to look at him. His cock still inside of you.

“Yeah, you’re mine alright.” He says it like he’s talking to himself. He probably is.

You smile, dropping your face back into his chest.

Yeah, you are. But how could you keep him when you're leaving in just a few days?

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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inkspiredwriting · 5 months ago

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payback

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

A/N: This was a request. As always, feel free to say if you liked it, even if you didn't, please tell me.

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was not a man easily rattled. He'd seen the end of the world, faced off against assassins, and outwitted time itself. But there was one person in the universe who could consistently throw him off balance, and that was his wife, Y/n.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, the kind where the world felt slow and peaceful. Five and Y/n were lounging in the living room, the sunlight streaming through the curtains, casting a warm glow over everything. Five had his nose buried in a book, his usual brooding expression softened in the comfort of home.

Y/n, on the other hand, was in a mischievous mood. She had been plotting a little prank for weeks, ever since Five had teased her relentlessly about a minor kitchen mishap that had left their kitchen covered in flour. He’d insisted on calling her "Flour Queen" ever since, and she figured it was time to get a little payback.

"Five," Y/n said, her voice deliberately serious as she folded her hands in her lap.

"Mmm?" Five replied, not looking up from his book.

"We need to talk."

Something in her tone made Five pause. He looked up, brow furrowing in concern. "What’s wrong?"

Y/n took a deep breath, putting on her best somber expression. "I’ve been thinking a lot lately, and… I think we should get a divorce."

Five blinked, his brain momentarily short-circuiting as he processed her words. "A… a what?"

"A divorce," Y/n repeated, keeping her voice steady despite the laughter bubbling up inside her. "It’s just… I don’t know if I can do this anymore."

Five’s book slipped from his hands, landing on the floor with a thud. He stared at her, his usual composure cracking. "Y/n, what are you talking about? Why would you want a divorce?"

Y/n bit her lip, struggling to maintain her serious expression. "Well, for one, you never help with the dishes."

Five blinked again. "The dishes?"

"Yeah, and you’re always leaving your socks everywhere. And don’t even get me started on your time travel obsession. I just… I need more in a marriage, Five."

Five’s eyes widened as he frantically searched for words. "I… I can do the dishes! And… and I’ll put my socks away! We can talk about time travel less—wait, is this about the flour incident? Because I was just joking, Y/n. You know I love you more than anything!"

Y/n pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh. She could see the genuine panic in Five’s eyes, and it was almost too much to bear. But she wasn’t done yet.

"It’s not just that, Five," she continued, her voice wavering just enough to make it believable. "I just feel like… like you don’t appreciate me anymore."

Five stood up, moving to her side with a desperation she hadn’t seen since the apocalypse. He took her hands in his, his grip firm but gentle. "Y/n, that’s not true. I appreciate you more than anyone. You’re the only person who’s ever made me feel… human. I can’t lose you. Please, let’s talk about this. We can work it out, I promise."

Y/n could barely hold it together now. The sight of Five, normally so calm and collected, practically pleading with her was both heartbreaking and hilarious. She took a deep breath, deciding it was time to end the prank before Five actually had a meltdown.

"Five," she said, her voice softening, "I’m just messing with you."

Five froze, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "What?"

"I’m kidding, Five," Y/n said, unable to keep the smile off her face any longer. "I don’t want a divorce. I was just getting you back for all the ‘Flour Queen’ jokes."

For a moment, Five just stared at her, processing what she had said. Then, as realization dawned, his expression shifted from shock to something between relief and exasperation.

"You… you little—" Five started, but he was cut off by Y/n’s laughter.

She threw her arms around him, burying her face in his chest as she giggled uncontrollably. "You should’ve seen your face! You were so serious!"

Five let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his heart still racing from the scare she had given him. But as Y/n’s laughter filled the room, he couldn’t help but smile. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

"You’re evil, you know that?" he muttered, but there was no real anger in his voice.

"Maybe a little," Y/n admitted, looking up at him with a playful grin. "But you deserved it."

Five shook his head, still in disbelief that he had fallen for her prank. "I really thought you were serious."

"I know," Y/n said, her smile softening as she reached up to touch his cheek. "But seriously, Five… I love you. And I’m not going anywhere."

Five’s heart swelled with affection as he looked into her eyes, filled with warmth and mischief. He leaned down, pressing his forehead against hers. "I love you too, Y/n. But if you ever scare me like that again, I might have to time travel just to get even."

Y/n laughed, standing on her tiptoes to kiss him. "Deal."

Five sighed, finally relaxing as the tension melted away. He knew that life with Y/n would never be boring, and honestly, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

They spent the rest of the day together, the earlier scare quickly forgotten as they settled back into their usual rhythm. Five couldn’t help but chuckle every now and then, still amazed at how Y/n had managed to pull one over on him.

As they curled up on the couch that evening, Y/n resting her head on Five’s shoulder, he glanced down at her, a smirk playing on his lips. "You know, I was this close to agreeing to anything just to make you stay."

"Good to know I have that power," Y/n teased, poking him in the side.

Five chuckled, pulling her closer. "Just don’t abuse it too much, alright?"

"No promises," Y/n said with a wink.

And as the evening sun set, casting a warm glow over them, Five realized that he had found something far more valuable than anything time travel could offer—a love that was playful, strong, and endlessly surprising.

#five hargreeves imagines #five hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x you #number five imagine #number five x reader #the umbrella academy #number five #number five one shot #five hargreeves

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alienpossession · 15 days ago

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The Shell: The Landing Part 2

Part 1

"Come on dude, you've been helping us tremendously, at least grab a beer or something," insisted Colin as he tried to persuade the Forest Ranger to take a sip of the cold beer

"Heh, sure, not like my boss is around or something," said the Forest Ranger as he loosened himself up and grab the tempting cold beer from Colin's hands. Colin grinned with malice as the first sip of the beer instantly froze the ranger, the bottle shattered to the forest ground as venom already spread all over his system. Colin then easily opened the Ranger's mouth and then the alien starts to climb out from his throat and then traveled upwards to enter the ranger's nose. When it finished wrapping itself around the ranger's brain and then absorbed the memories, it oozes out from the ranger's ear and then flopped to the forest ground where it started to expand itself as the shell's creation process started. Minutes later, the perfect replica of the ranger, albeit naked, stand up with a smug grin next to the ranger.

"Guess I need to take what's mine, Ranger," said the replica with an eerie smile plastered on his face as he started to undress the real Ranger from his uniform. The boots with the lengthy, damp black socks, the pants that framed the ranger's hairy muscle ass so well alongside the sweaty white briefs, the wifebeater underneath the worn out uniform shirt and jacket and at last the musky hat that once adorned the Ranger head is now in the possession of the shell that wears it with pride and smugness that's never been seen before from the usually stoic and stern Ranger

"Ranger Stephen Henderson at your service. Ohhh......I love how knowledgeable he is about this forest. Lots of delicious bodies for our pack scattered in places I, as the Ranger, fully aware of if you want to explore the woods now. What do you think, Colin? Should we tell Ryle about this?"

"Oh we definitely should, Ranger Henderson. I know Ryle will be elated if you can show us where to find the next bodies,"

"Well, what if we bring one more body to him? There's this jogger watching us as we're speaking now looking all horrified right there," the Ranger pointed out to the person around 300 meters behind Colin that has witnessed everything

The jogger tried his best to outrun the youthful Colin and the street-smart (or forest-smart) Ranger Henderson, but he eventually succumbed to the same fate as the real Ranger and the real Colin when this alien replica of himself eventually snapped his neck in the final act of taking over his identity

"Let's head back to meet Ryle and strategize which folks we should convert before we head back to the city," advised the Ranger to both Colin and the recently-added Marco, the town's bartender that just wanted to get some fresh air but unfortunately took his final drag of fresh air witnessing an impostor stealing his identity and life

With the help of the Ranger's knowledge of the forest, the takeover turned out to be even much more efficient and rewarding as the Ranger directed them to the more fit and powerful human to be disposed of and cloned as shell into. As it stands, the pack led by Ryle Adams leave the forest in three differing cars, the first one filled by Ryle, Colin and the two local college jocks named Austin and Wes

Then, the second car, a huge pickup truck is filled by Ranger Henderson, Marco the bartender, Paulie the town cabin-builder and the owner of the truck alongside his buddy and recently turned in-law as their kids married each other, Sheriff Jeff Wilcox.

The final car, and quite an unexpected yet very much welcomed outcome, filled by 4 soldiers from the military base in the opposite town of the other 8 shells. The soldiers were on a quick unathourized trip out from the base to enjoy the pristine wildlife outside of their base. They managed to do so because the most senior one among them is the nephew of the Major and while the trip has been fun and stress-relieving for them, they certainly would never expect that it would be their last trip, ever. When the Ranger came out to the soldiers camping ground asking for help, they walked into a trap without knowing as they found themselves paralyzed from head to toe all in a sudden. They did not realize that they stepped on aliens on the forest ground that soon slithered themselves stealthily to numb their bodies to the point of paralysis. Then, the ranger wickedly shoved four slithering alien right to their ear canals and soon, they experienced what could only be described as progressive amnesia as their memories absorbed by the alien presence in their brain. As soon as they sucked the memories dry, the alien slithered out with pink-ish glow from the soldiers ear and flopped to the ground where it started to replicate the soldiers and that's when the soldiers also encountered their final fate soon after the replica reached its full state of replication, resembling perfectly the 4 unfortunate soldiers not only physically, but also mentally

So, while the 8 shells will get back to the town and inform the motherships of the town exact coordinate for a more precise landing of the next batches, it will also inform of another coordinates which is the military base that didn't even appear in the mothership detection. One reckless trip of the 4 soldiers will become a heavy price to pay by humanity as when the landing reached its full-scale, that entire base will be turned upside down and will become the base of the invading enemy without anyone knowing

#the shell #alien shapeshift #identity theft

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magical-reid · 25 days ago

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In Another League

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 900

Setting: Beacon Hills High School, Season 2 Timeline

Summary: Stiles Stilinski, caught in his usual whirlwind of chaos and awkwardness, finds himself hopelessly smitten by you after you unknowingly rock his world by wearing his lacrosse jersey at the pep rally. In a moment of fate, you tease him with a casual compliment, leaving Stiles both flustered and hopeful that maybe, just maybe, you’re beginning to notice him too.

Stiles Stilinski was never subtle. It wasn’t in his nature. Where Scott McCall had his quiet confidence, Stiles had… well, everything else. The quick wit, the chaotic charm, the awkward stumbles—he was a walking open book of enthusiasm and panic. And right now, every single page of that book was consumed by one person: you.

You weren’t oblivious to his existence. How could you be, with Stiles’ constant flailing and frantic energy orbiting you like some hyperactive moon? But you… you just didn’t seem to care. Not the way he wanted you to, at least. Sure, you waved at him in the hallway sometimes, maybe smiled at one of his jokes when Scott dragged him into your circle during lunch. But you weren’t charmed. You weren’t invested. Not the way Stiles was.

Still, he didn’t stop. Couldn’t.

The Day of the Pep Assembly

Beacon Hills High was a mess of chatter and excitement as students buzzed about the annual pep rally. Lacrosse season was in full swing, and the team was undefeated so far. Coach Finstock, naturally, had decided this called for some mandatory team spirit. As part of the festivities, every girl on the cheer squad—and a handful of volunteers from the student body—was assigned a player’s jersey to wear during the rally.

Stiles had tried not to hope. Really, he had. He wasn’t even sure if you knew he existed half the time. The idea of you—Beacon Hills’ own lowkey legend of intellect and effortless charm—volunteering to wear a lacrosse jersey, his lacrosse jersey, seemed absurd.

And then you walked into the gym.

The chaos of the assembly faded to white noise as Stiles’ brain short-circuited. You were there, wearing his number—24—draped over you like it had always belonged to you. The oversized jersey hung loose on your frame, and you’d paired it with jeans and your usual casual confidence. It wasn’t even a big deal to you. You laughed at something a friend said, completely oblivious to the seismic event you’d just caused in Stiles’ chest.

He nudged Scott—hard. “Do you see that? Are you seeing this?”

Scott barely glanced up from where he was tying his shoe. “Seeing what?”

“Her! Y/N! She’s wearing my jersey. Mine!”

Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, Stiles, because Coach assigned it to her. Don’t overthink it.”

“Overthink it? Scott, this is fate!” Stiles hissed, clutching his chest like the mere sight of you had delivered a fatal blow. “This is destiny in the form of polyester fabric!”

Scott gave him a look, the kind that said calm down before you hurt yourself, but Stiles didn’t care. All he could see was you, walking across the gym, completely unaware of the riot you’d started in his chest.

The Moment of Truth

The assembly kicked off with its usual fanfare—Coach yelling into a microphone, the team pretending to care, and the crowd half-heartedly clapping along. Stiles couldn’t focus on any of it. Not when you were sitting just a few rows ahead of him, your presence as dazzling as the sun.

You leaned over to whisper something to one of your friends, laughing softly, and Stiles swore he felt his heart physically ache. He was so busy staring—so utterly entranced—that he didn’t notice the nudge Scott gave him.

“Hey,” Scott whispered. “Go talk to her.”

Stiles froze. “What? No. I can’t just—are you insane?”

“You’re already staring at her like a creeper. Might as well say something.”

“Yeah, because ‘Hi, Y/N, I think about you every waking moment’ is such a great icebreaker,” Stiles muttered.

Scott rolled his eyes. “Just say something normal, man. Compliment her or something. Be cool.”

Cool. Right. Because Stiles Stilinski was the epitome of cool.

When the assembly ended, the crowd began to disperse, and you stood to leave with your friends. Stiles knew this was his chance—his only chance—but his feet felt rooted to the floor. He was about to chicken out when you turned around, catching him mid-panic.

“Hey, Stilinski.”

Stiles blinked. Had you… had you just addressed him? “Uh. Hi. Hey. Y/N. What’s… up?”

You smirked, tilting your head. “Nice jersey. You think it suits me?”

His brain short-circuited for the second time that day. “I—yeah. Totally. You look amazing. Not that you don’t always look amazing. I mean, you could wear a garbage bag and still be—”

You laughed, cutting off his ramble before he could fully combust. “Relax, Stiles. I’m just messing with you.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah. Totally relaxed,” he lied, every muscle in his body tense with the effort of not saying something embarrassing.

You gave him one last smile before turning to leave. “See you around, Stilinski.”

As you walked away, Stiles let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Scott clapped him on the back.

“Smooth,” Scott teased.

Stiles ignored him, too busy replaying the moment in his head. You’d talked to him. You’d smiled at him. And maybe—just maybe—you’d actually noticed him for the first time.

It wasn’t much, but for Stiles Stilinski, it was everything.

#magical-reid #self insert #reader insert #fluff #teen wolf #teen wolf imagines #teen wolf x reader #stiles stilinski x you #stiles stilinski x y/n #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinski self insert #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski reader insert

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daisymbin · 3 months ago

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Hi!!

Can you please write a drabble for jeonghan using the fluff prompts #23 and #39?

hi love!! I'm sorry again, my mistake 😓 if I had checked my ask earlier that I could ask which prompt so you don't have to wait so long 😢 hopefully this slightly longer fic makes up for it!!!! thank you for waiting 😽🤍

request your own: full prompt list!

check out my masterlist! // hannie's m.list

fluff prompt #23: "you stayed up all night taking care of me?" +

fluff prompt #39: "you talk about me in your sleep, you know?"

jeonghan woke up to the soft hum of sunlight filtering through his blinds and the faint rustle of movement nearby. his head throbbed, his mouth felt like cotton, and the events of the previous night were a blur. blinking against the bright light, he groaned and shifted slightly, immediately regretting the motion as nausea crept in.

“you’re awake,” a familiar voice said, cutting through the fog in his brain.

he turned his head toward you, sitting in his desk chair with your arms crossed, looking both relieved and annoyed. your hair was slightly disheveled, and your tired eyes met his.

“morning,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “what happened?”

you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “you got drunk. like, really drunk. i had to bring you home because you kept whining that you felt sick.”

he winced, his memory offering little more than flashes of the night. “oh.”

you stood up, walking over to his bedside with a glass of water and some painkillers. “and then you wouldn’t stop complaining, so i stayed up to make sure you didn’t choke on your own stupidity.”

“you stayed up all night taking care of me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something he wasn’t sure he wanted to unpack.

“someone had to,” you replied, handing him the glass. your tone was matter-of-fact, but the way your eyes lingered on him, soft and full of concern, made his chest feel strange.

he sipped the water, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped. “did i… do anything embarrassing?”

you leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. “oh, plenty. but my favorite part was when you started talking in your sleep.”

jeonghan froze, his hand hovering mid-air. “what?”

you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, you talk about me in your sleep, you know?”

his heart skipped a beat. “what did i say?”

your smirk widened. “you don’t remember?”

“obviously not!” he shot back, feeling his face heat up.

you tilted your head, pretending to think. “hmm… let’s see. you said my name a lot, for one. i lost count after the fifth time.”

his stomach flipped. “just your name?”

you leaned forward, your grin turning teasing. “oh, no. you said other things, too.”

jeonghan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “what kind of things?"

last night

you had just managed to guide jeonghan into his bed, his arm slung heavily over your shoulders as he half-stumbled, half-leaned on you. “come on, jeonghan. you’re almost there,” you huffed, trying to keep him upright.

“you’re so strong,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “like… really strong. you could probably carry me, huh?”

“i’m already carrying most of your weight,” you muttered under your breath, ignoring the way his words made your cheeks warm.

as soon as his head hit the pillow, jeonghan let out a long sigh. you thought he’d drift off immediately, but instead, he mumbled, “you’re so nice to me. always so nice.”

you froze, hovering by the edge of his bed.

“you smell nice, too,” he added, his voice muffled by the pillow. “like… flowers or something. but not too strong. it’s just… perfect.”

your heart skipped a beat, and you slowly lowered yourself into the desk chair, unsure if he was fully asleep or just delirious.

“wish i could tell you,” he mumbled, his voice so soft you almost missed it. “wish i could say how much i…” he trailed off, his breathing evening out as he falls asleep.

you thought he was done for the night, but then, an hour later, he added, “want to take you out sometime. somewhere nice. you deserve that. wanna take angel out on date.”

angel? but that's his nickname for you...

your heart raced and ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you sat there in silence, watching his peaceful face, the weight of his words settling over you.

“you’re too good for me,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “but i’m selfish. i want you to be mine.”

[-]

“so,” jeonghan said now, dragging you back to the present, “what exactly did i say?”

you shrugged, playing it cool despite the way your heart raced. “oh, just that you think i’m nice and smell like flowers.”

he blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. “i said that?”

“mmhm,” you hummed, biting back a grin.

“and…?” he prompted, clearly fishing for more.

“and you said you want to take me out sometime,” you added, your voice casual but your cheeks warm. "on a date." you added softly.

jeonghan stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. “sounds like me.”

you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest.

he shifted closer, resting his chin on his palm, his grin playful but his voice quieter. “so, how about it? i’m free this weekend. dinner, your pick. i owe you for, you know, saving my life or whatever.”

“is this how you ask someone out?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

“well, it’s not every day i find out i confessed in my sleep,” he countered, a nervous laugh slipping through. “but… you’d say yes, right?”

you faltered, his unusually earnest tone catching you off guard. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.

jeonghan’s laugh was immediate, light and relieved. “i’ll take that as a yes.”

“don’t make me regret it,” you warned, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.

“trust me, you won’t,” he said, his confidence returning. “and for the record, i’d totally carry you to bed if the roles were reversed. just saying.”

“jeonghan!”

he grinned, leaning back against the pillows with a smug expression. if his heart was racing, well, that was for him to deal with later.

his signature smirk firmly in place. "what’s wrong? cat got your tongue, or are you just mesmerized by me again?" he teased, his voice low and honeyed as he moved closer. the confidence he exuded was disarming, but you caught the flicker of something softer in his eyes — a nervousness he couldn’t quite hide.

you rolled your eyes, though your pulse quickened as he closed the distance. "you wish," you muttered, but your breath hitched when his hand brushed against your cheek, his fingers ghosting over your skin.

“oh, i know,” jeonghan said, his grin widening. yet, as he cupped your face more firmly, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, his playful facade cracked. his throat bobbed in a swallow, and you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your gaze, like he was trying to decide if he was allowed to take this leap.

“you’re awfully quiet now,” he murmured, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. “nervous?”

“are you?” you shot back, emboldened by the faint tremor in his hand.

“terrified,” he admitted, almost inaudibly, before he leaned in.

the first press of his lips against yours was tentative, a soft, testing thing that quickly gave way to something hungrier when you didn’t pull back. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his confidence returned in the way he kissed you—playful, teasing, with the occasional nip at your bottom lip that left you breathless.

you fisted the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself as the heat between you grew. his smirk returned when he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i told you, you can’t resist me.” but his pink cheeks betrayed him, revealing just how badly he’d wanted this.

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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On my hands and knees sobbing throwing up combusting into dust signs my soul away to you THAT WAS SO SO SOOOOO CUTEEEEEE GUAYAYYAYYUUUUUAUAGAHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! Poor Rollo thinks hes just being nice meanwhile poor yuu is so used to people digging underneath the bar that he's literally prince charming incarnate. Rollo clearly needs to adjust their standards and do what the villains could not by kissing yuu softly while they take a nap. And also threaten crowley to give them money for food. ANYWAYS!!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FEEDING ME AND THE 5 OTHER ROLLO FANS THAT SURVIVED THE FAMINE (/j) I OWE YOU MY LIFE!!!!! This message is getting so long, but you deserve to know how awesome your writing is and that I look forward to whatever you post for real. I slide over a crisp 5 maddol and ask for when you feel like it (and if you even want to ofc!!) A part 3 where maybe they're deeper in the relationship and are doing heinous things like m*king out and grimm thinks they should be executed for making him walk into this horror. (He didn't knock. Bc he's grimm. He claimed to be scarred for life until Rollo busted out the premium tuna suddenly we should get married asap) . ANYWAYS SORRY FOR THE LONG RAMBLE. IM BARKING AND CRYING AND EXPLODING AND PROPOSING TO YOU. Signed with love, rollo anon 💗💝💖

Rollo Flamme x reader

i just saw this and this almost made me cry 🫶 also sorry for the very long wait

Part 1 ; Part 2

Rollo was nothing if not diligent. Whether it was reorganizing the shelves at the library, fixing the perpetually squeaky door in Ramshackle, or chastising Grim for yet another snack-induced fire hazard, he was always helping in his quietly intense way. It wasn’t just duty—he genuinely seemed to enjoy making your life easier, which both baffled and warmed you to your core.

You, of course, did what you could to return the favor. Helping him clean up after unruly magic festival events, proofreading his endless notes about anti-magic policies, and gently reminding him to relax when he got that telltale furrow in his brow.

And you were in love.

Like, grossly in love. The kind of love where you found his huffy rants about magical irresponsibility charming and he tolerated Grim's chaos just to spend more time with you. It was a weird, wonderful balance you’d somehow managed to strike.

Which led to this particular evening: you and Rollo, tangled on the old, creaky couch in your room at Ramshackle.

It had started innocently enough. You’d been reviewing a new book he'd brought for you—something philosophical, of course, but he’d chosen it specifically because he thought you’d enjoy it. You were teasing him about his insistence on leaving a handwritten note inside the front cover (“Who even does this, Rollo? It’s adorable, but—seriously?”), and he had flushed in that way that made you want to pinch his cheeks.

Then one thing led to another.

Now, his lips were on yours, one hand cradling your face with the kind of reverence that made your heart twist. His other arm was around your waist, anchoring you against him. Rollo might not have been an experienced romantic, but he made up for it in sheer, focused intensity. When he kissed you, it felt like you were the only thing in the world that mattered to him.

“You’re—mmph—very distracting,” he murmured against your lips, his voice low and tinged with amusement.

You grinned, tugging him closer. “Says the guy who started this.”

His only response was to kiss you again, deeper this time, until your brain was reduced to a pleasant, fizzy blur. The world outside the room ceased to exist. It was just you, him, and the creak of the couch as you shifted closer—

“WHAT IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY?! MY EYES! THEY’RE RUINED!”

Grim’s shrill scream shattered the moment like glass.

You froze, pulling back to see Grim standing in the doorway, paws dramatically covering his eyes. “HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME? ON MY COUCH?”

“Grim, it’s my couch,” you said, face burning.

“You’re the henchhuman; it’s ours by default!” Grim wailed. “And now it’s a place of SIN!”

Rollo, to his credit, had already straightened up, his expression transitioning from flustered to composed in record time. “Grim,” he said, voice calm yet firm, “surely you’ve barged in enough times to anticipate that privacy should be respected.”

“Oh, I respected it,” Grim sniffed. “But my henchhuman clearly has no shame. And you!” He pointed an accusatory paw at Rollo. “I thought you were better than this! But no, you’re—”

Rollo, completely unbothered by the tirade, reached into his bag and produced a can of… premium tuna?

Grim’s rant ground to a halt. His ears perked up as he sniffed the air. “Wait. Is that—?”

“Indeed,” Rollo said smoothly, holding it up like a peace offering. “A gift I intended to give later, but it seems circumstances call for a different approach.”

Grim’s eyes lit up with unrestrained glee. “You know what? I’ve never doubted you for a second, Rollo!” He scurried forward, practically salivating as he swiped the can. “You’re clearly the best thing that’s ever happened to my henchhuman. You two should get married. Tomorrow. I’ll get a priest. I’m sure Crowley owes me a favor.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands as Grim popped the can open with zero regard for decorum. “Grim, you are the worst.”

“Correction: I’m the best,” Grim said, already devouring the tuna with gusto. Between bites, he added, “This guy’s a keeper. Don’t mess it up, henchhuman.”

Rollo’s lips twitched, a hint of amusement breaking through his otherwise composed demeanor. He leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for you to hear, “Shall we take his advice?”

You gave him a playful shove, laughing despite yourself. “Not helping, Rollo.”

But deep down, as Grim devoured his bribe and Rollo sat beside you with that quietly pleased look, you couldn’t deny that the idea didn’t sound all that bad.

The exhaustion of the day had finally caught up to you, and you’d collapsed onto your bed with a sigh of relief. “Wake me up for class, okay?” you mumbled to Rollo, who was sitting at your desk, meticulously organizing the scattered notes you’d left behind.

“I’ll make sure you’re on time,” he replied, his voice carrying that steady assurance you found oddly comforting.

You barely managed a hum of acknowledgment before sleep claimed you, leaving the world behind in a haze of warm, peaceful quiet.

When you stirred again, it wasn’t the sound of your alarm or the creak of the floorboards that woke you. It was something far gentler.

A warm, featherlight pressure on your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, and the first thing you saw was Rollo leaning over you, his expression soft in a way that made your heart do an Olympic-level somersault. He was close enough that you could see the slight flush on his cheeks, though his composure never wavered.

“Good morning,” he said softly, his voice a gentle murmur. “It’s time to get ready for class.”

You blinked at him, your still-sleepy brain struggling to process what had just happened. “Did you… just kiss me awake?”

His blush deepened, but he stood his ground, meeting your gaze with quiet confidence. “You looked so peaceful. I thought it would be a more pleasant way to wake you than simply shaking your shoulder.”

Your heart melted on the spot. If there was a scale for romantic gestures, this one had just broken it.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said, though your voice betrayed how utterly smitten you were.

“Perhaps,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “But you didn’t seem to mind.”

You didn’t bother arguing because he was absolutely right. Instead, you reached out, tugging him down for a proper kiss this time.

When you finally pulled away, you smirked at his flustered expression. “If you keep this up, I’m going to start napping more often.”

He chuckled softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “If that’s the case, I’ll have to be even more diligent about ensuring you don’t oversleep.”

You laughed, warmth blooming in your chest as you sat up and stretched. “Thanks for waking me, Rollo. Really.”

“Of course,” he said, his tone earnest as ever. “It’s the least I can do.”

The man was going to ruin you with how thoughtful he was. And as you got ready for class with a lingering smile on your face, you couldn’t help but think that waking up like this every day wouldn’t be so bad.

It started with something simple. You were both sitting in the courtyard of the chapel, enjoying a quiet moment together. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything, and Rollo was, as usual, the picture of composure. He was reading a book—some historical text you’d never have the patience for—but his attention drifted when he noticed you staring at the horizon, lost in thought.

“Are you cold?” he asked, setting his book aside and leaning slightly closer.

You blinked out of your reverie, shaking your head with a soft smile. “No, I’m fine.”

He studied you for a moment, then pulled his scarf from around his neck and gently draped it over your shoulders anyway. “Just in case,” he murmured.

It wasn’t anything extraordinary—just a scarf—but the gesture made your heart swell. The scarf smelled faintly of lavender, and the warmth of it felt like an extension of Rollo himself.

“Thanks, Rollo,” you said, voice soft.

He nodded, but when he saw the way your smile lingered, something shifted in his expression. His usual composed demeanor softened into something… almost reverent.

“You deserve this,” he said, his tone uncharacteristically tender.

“Huh?” You tilted your head at him, confused.

“You deserve to be cared for,” he clarified, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your breath hitch. “You give so much of yourself to others. It’s only natural that someone should do the same for you.”

You stared at him, heart racing. “Rollo, I… That’s really sweet.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, though not at you. “It’s concerning that such basic decency stands out to you,” he muttered, almost to himself. “What kind of environment is this school fostering?”

The thought of Rollo, grimacing at the thought of NRC’s questionable population, made you burst into laughter. “I mean, you’ve met Grim, right? The standards here are subterranean.”

Rollo’s expression softened again when he saw how amused you were. “Even so,” he said, taking your hands in his with surprising gentleness, “you should never feel as though you’re asking for too much when you expect kindness or respect. It’s what you’re owed.”

Your heart did a little somersault, and you couldn’t help but giggle, ridiculously touched. “Stop, you’re going to make me cry,” you teased, though the slight quiver in your voice betrayed how close you were to actually tearing up.

He smiled faintly, leaning closer until his forehead nearly touched yours. “If you cry, I’ll simply have to dry your tears,” he said, his voice low and earnest. “Though I’d rather see you smiling.”

You let out another helpless laugh, pulling your hands free so you could lightly swat at his arm. “Stop being so romantic! I can’t handle this!”

Rollo chuckled softly, pleased with your reaction. “If it makes you happy, then I’ll consider it a worthwhile effort.”

And he meant it. He was genuinely, utterly content to see you so touched, so happy. Yet, somewhere in the back of his mind, a quiet but fierce determination grew. The villains and miscreants of NRC may not have treated you with the respect you deserved, but he would make it his mission to ensure you never doubted your worth again.

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst rollo x reader #rollo x reader #rollo x you #rollo flamme #rollo flamme x reader #rollo flamme x you #rollo

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starkura · 8 months ago

Text

oh my good looking boy. | obanai iguro

note: not proofread, may be ooc

wordcount: 732

Obanai was a strict and unforgiving person. It was hard to build relationships with him due to his high standards. However, there was something about you that made him forget about his rude behavior. You’re cheerful and patient nature made him less fearful of you. There wasn’t anything for him to be afraid of. You slowly gained his trust day by day, and soon, you two were inseparable. When you’re both separated, you both write letters to one another. No matter how separated you two are, you guys always keep in touch.

You always figured that Obanai and you were very close. He talked and behaved comfortably around you, it was different compared to how he conversed with others. Obanai trusted you with his life. But, you didn’t exactly know everything about him. Obanai never mentioned anything about the bandages that covered his mouth. You were always curious about it, but he seemed avoidant and vague the first time you asked about it. So, you didn’t ask about it after the first time.

In truth, Obanai had reasons as to why he didn’t want to tell you. For one, he didn’t want to retell his traumatic past to you. He rather not have you know that side of him. And two, him imagining the number of reactions you could have to the scars underneath his face terrified him. Would you be disgusted by him? Would you be horrified by his scars? He didn’t want to lose you, one of the only people in his life that could make him feel at ease.

It wasn’t until one early morning when his bandages unraveled off his face. He woke up in the morning from a bad nightmare that included you and him. Obanai was gasping for air, his bandages were blocking his airflow. He didn’t realize it, but he pulled them down to breathe properly. He slowed down his breathing in an attempt to calm himself down. Obanai quickly started to panic again when you open the door to his room. He didn’t know what to do, he was usually swift with his movements. But, in this moment, his brain just froze. When the door is fully open, you see the sight of Obanai’s scars that follow his mouth. You were shock to see the scars that were imbedded into his face. Instead of being disgusted or horrified, you were absolutely worried. You had a tray of food prepared for him, however you dropped the tray and rushed to his side. “Obanai?” You say in a worried tone. His face was in your hands, and all Obanai Iguro could do was cry. “I'm sorry you had to see this. I know, I look horrifying.” He said softly. You wipe the tears off his face. You look at him with a sorrowful look. “Obanai, you don’t look horrifying.” You said reassuringly. He shook his head as a response. “You can tell me how it is, you don’t have to sugarcoat it.” He said. You move Obanai’s hair so his face has your focus.

Your fingers brush over his scars, feeling the roughness of it. His face is still as beautiful as ever, even if he thinks his scars make him hideous. Your mind started to wander, how did this happen to him? You give Obanai a small smile, tears slowly start to form from your eyes. You bring Obanai closer and wrap your arms around him. “I’m so sorry, whatever you went through, I’m so sorry that you had to go through that.” Obanai’s eyes widen and wraps his arms around you. You look back at him while still having your arms around him. You look right into his turquoise and yellow eyes. “I hope you know that your scars don't make you any less beautiful.” You look at him with a heartbroken look. “I didn’t show you my scars because I was scared that you’d be disgusted by them.” He admits. “I could never be disgusted by you Obanai.” You could tell that Obanai still had some worry and doubt, you wanted to reassure him that you didn’t think any less of him. Your hands moved to his face once again and you leaned in closer to him. You kiss his scars and then his lips. Obanai just sinked into you. You could sense that he was returning back to his calm and collective self again.

#obanai iguro #obanai x reader #demon slayer #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny obanai #obanai kny #demon slayer season 4 #x reader #demon slayer x reader #kimetsu obanai #idk what else to tag #angst #angst ig #i hate this

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kentoavenue · 1 year ago

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thunderstorms - kuroo tetsurou

kuroo has a new girlfriend.

you’d heard it in the hallways; the boys had just gone back from a friendly match, and you were at your locker to take out something you can’t seem to remember now—a book, maybe?

though the hallway was mostly empty, it seemed like the boys hadn’t spotted you, so you continued on with your business when lev started whining to kai about how envious he was of kuroo’s new girlfriend.

new girlfriend.

you had froze in spot when the words entered your ear. your mind went blank, and you’re almost sure that time and space froze right along with you then.

slowly, you twisted your head towards their direction, and released a breath when you saw that kuroo wasn’t with them, shoulders sagging. you had, however, accidentally made eye contact with kenma, and a slight nod from him had been all the confirmation you needed.

it’s not like you can blame kuroo, though. after the both of you had ended it during that argument two months ago, you had given kuroo the cold shoulder for weeks.

and kuroo, being kuroo, had held on tight to his own ego and went on with his days pretending like you didn’t exist, too.

basically, it’s been radio silent between the two of you. though, in the back of your mind, you had assumed it was all just a game, albeit stretched on too long, to see who’d cave first.

up until that hallway incident, that is.

as if that wasn’t already enough, new gossip started to surface as well about how perfect she was for kuroo—she never failed to come to his matches, was always supportive of him, and just all around perfect, everyone had commented.

kuroo has a new girlfriend, so you’re wondering why he’s standing outside your door at 2am during a thunderstorm.

he’s looking at you with his all too familiar honey eyes, which softens as you finally take him in. he’s head to toe drenched in rainwater. his usual bedhead is wet, sticking to his forehead, and his lips slowly part, as if wanting to say something.

“kuroo,” you start. lightning flashes in the background, and you blink twice, thrice, to see if it is actually him standing on your porch, and not your brain playing games. “what are you doing here?”

“you love thunderstorms,” he finally breathes out, his chest rising and falling quicker than usual. he ran here, you realize.

you nod once, “i do.”

“you love me, too.” kuroo continues.

you furrow your brows, and raise up a palm to stop him. “you have a girlfriend, kuroo. go home.” you swear you can hear your heart crack the moment you said girlfriend out loud.

“i don’t,” kuroo shakes his head and his hands reach out to take your palm—and blame it on the situation or the time, you let him.

his hands are cold and dripping, which usually you’d protest against, but right now there’s something in the way kuroo’s looking at you that keeps you from saying anything.

something that looks a lot like yearning.

“i hear she’s perfect for you,” you whisper. the words don’t even seem real to you, yet you say it anyway. it’s not right that kuroo is here, you think.

“she is,” he swallows. “perfect.”

you start to pull your hand away from his, but his grip is unrelenting. “i don’t need to hear it kuroo. go home.”

“she’s perfect, you know,” he continues.

this is insane, you laugh silently. “so you ran all this way to gloat?”

you turn to step back inside, not wanting to hear any more of his new relationship, but he holds you back still. his hands keep their grip on yours as he steps closer.

“but she’s not you.”

you flick your gaze back to him, lightning flashing once more.

“i was empty for two months without you,” he admits. the rain pours harder behind him, and the sane part of you is telling you to come inside, but you know kuroo, and he’s not moving until he’s finished. “i thought she could fill back the hole in my heart, replace maybe even a speck of you, but i was wrong. dead wrong.”

“she came to my matches, but all the while i kept looking for you. i was so fixated on looking for you that i was off my game. coach even had to sub me out once.”

“kuroo–”

“no, wait,” he interrupts. “you can ask kenma if you don’t believe me. he called me out several times about it.”

“after the match, when we were having barbeque together, i was waiting for a comment to tease me for getting fish instead of beef, until i realized there won’t be one because you weren’t there.”

“and she never gets my jokes about docosahexaenoic acid. even after i explained to her that it’s good for the brain and—”

“—found in fish. that’s why you like mackerel so much,” you finish for him.

“exactly,” he whispers. his gaze is now pleading, and your heart strains at the sight. you know he means all of it, because he’s rambling. it’s not often kuroo does that.

“i’m not with her anymore.” kuroo’s hands move to interlace his fingers with yours. “i never was, not really.”

you nod again, feeling too many things at once.

the wind is cruel tonight, your hands freezing, but kuroo hasn’t held your hand in too long, so you stay like this.

“i haven’t let anyone take your seat at my place either, you know. that’s your spot, no one could take it,” he says.

“tell me why you’re here, kuroo.” you ask, even though his eyes are telling you everything.

“take me back.” his tone is pleading too, now. and you can feel his longing in the air, palpable. you think it’s mixed in with yours, too. “i’ll do anything.”

“kuroo,” you breathe, but he stops you again.

“tetsurou. not kuroo.” he corrects. “not for you.”

and there’s a silent pause, before you whisper, “okay.”

“okay, what? okay as in you’ll call me tetsurou again, or okay as in you’ll take me back?” he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting it up for him to see better. “you look perfect, by the way.”

“thought you didn’t want perfect.”

“i want you. it’s only you for me, no one else.” his face is inches from yours now, the tension borderline tangible. “so what do you say, kitten?”

you smile up at him, “okay as in both, then.”

and he kisses you, as lightning flashes for the third time that night.

read the prequel

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rispwr · 4 months ago

Text

expect the unexpected - myg - os

pairings : idol! myg x bartender! reader

sypnosis: meeting an idol at a bar as a bartender? Especially the fact that it was your favourite idol, was definitely was not in your expectations, knowing well the media is all around you both.

word count: 5k+

contents/warnings: smut, ykyk, idol x fan, s2l, fast burn or whatever u call it, unprotected sxx, public media hate?, full of suprises, pwp, oral(fem recieving), slight tit play,

Not proofread

The pounding bass of the club reverberated through my chest as I worked my way behind the bar, pouring drinks with precision and a smile, despite how tired I was feeling. The club was packed tonight, bodies swaying under neon lights, laughter and chatter mixing with the pulsing music. It was another typical Friday night, one where I’d usually lose myself in the rhythm of the job, letting the hustle and bustle distract me from anything going on in my personal life.

But tonight, something felt different. There was an odd tension in the air, or maybe it was just my own nerves after hearing earlier in the day that there was going to be a high-profile guest at the club. I didn’t know who it would be, but the manager had warned us to be on our best behavior. I usually was, but the anticipation had been gnawing at me all evening, especially as the hours ticked closer to closing time.

I wiped down the counter for the hundredth time that night, glancing at the crowd every now and then, hoping to spot the mystery guest. Maybe it would be someone cool, like an actor or a famous DJ. Little did I know, my whole world was about to shift in the next few minutes.

The door opened, and I noticed someone walk in, but it wasn’t just anyone. It was him.

Min Yoongi.

My heart skipped a beat, then pounded furiously in my chest. Oh my god, it’s really him. Min Yoongi, the man I’d admired for years, the genius behind so many of my favorite songs. His music had been my escape, my motivation, my comfort on so many days. And now, here he was, stepping into the very club where I worked. My hands were shaking just thinking about it.

I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry, as I watched him casually approach the bar. His presence commanded the space, even though he moved with such a laid-back aura, his black leather jacket clinging to him effortlessly. He glanced around briefly before his eyes landed on me, and I froze, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

Stay calm, Y/N. You’re a professional. You can’t freak out right now.

"Good evening, sir. What can I get you?" I somehow managed to ask, though my voice came out shaky. My palms were sweating, and I was sure my face was flushed.

Yoongi’s gaze softened as a small smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Does the drink come with the bartender making it?" he joked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I chuckled nervously, trying to play it off like I wasn’t completely losing it on the inside. "You’re very funny, sir," I replied, forcing a smile. Act normal, Y/N, act normal.

His eyes lingered on me for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart racing again. "What can you recommend?" he asked, leaning slightly on the counter, his eyes still locked on mine.

I was momentarily speechless, my brain scrambling to function. What was a good drink?

I bit my lip, trying to focus despite the intensity of his gaze. "Aperol Spritz," I blurted out, my voice still shaky. It was a safe choice, something light but classy. I was hoping he’d go for it.

"That sounds good," he said, giving me a warm, gummy smile that nearly melted me on the spot. His smile—it was even more beautiful in person than I’d ever imagined.

I quickly turned to grab the ingredients, my hands trembling slightly as I started mixing the drink. I could feel his eyes on me, and it was driving me insane. The way he leaned against the bar, so casual, so effortlessly cool—it was like a scene out of a movie, one I never thought I’d be part of.

As I focused on mixing the drink, I heard him speak again, his voice low and curious. "What time’s your shift end?"

My hand faltered for a moment, nearly spilling the Aperol. "Uh, 10 p.m.," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant, though my heart was thudding in my chest. Why was he asking about my shift?

"Why?" I asked before I could stop myself, focusing on the drink to avoid looking directly at him.

"May I take you out?" His words hit me like a ton of bricks, and I almost dropped the glass.

I choked on my own breath, coughing slightly in surprise. Did I just hear that right? My idol, the man whose music had shaped so much of my life, was asking to take me out? It felt surreal, like a dream I didn’t dare believe was happening.

"Sir—" I started to protest, my mind racing with confusion, excitement, and nerves all at once.

He cut me off, that same playful smirk still on his lips. "Just get my number then."

Before I could even react, he reached over and gently grabbed my wrist, pulling out a pen from his jacket. My breath hitched as I felt the warmth of his fingers on my skin. With a few quick strokes, he scribbled his number on my wrist.

"Call me. Please," he said, his voice softer now, more sincere. His eyes met mine again, and for a moment, everything else in the club disappeared. It was just me and him, locked in this surreal moment that I knew I would remember for the rest of my life.

I blinked, still trying to process everything as I finished making his drink and handed it to him. He took it with that same easy confidence, his fingers brushing against mine briefly before he lifted the glass to his lips.

The way he drank the Aperol Spritz—quickly, effortlessly, like it was water—was somehow the hottest thing I had ever seen. My eyes were glued to him, watching as he downed the drink with a casual grace that left me even more flustered than before.

When he set the glass down, he gave me one last smile before standing up from the bar. I watched, completely starstruck, as he slowly made his way out of the club, disappearing into the night like some kind of ethereal being.

For a few seconds, I just stood there, still clutching the bar counter, my mind reeling from what had just happened. My idol—Min Yoongi—had not only spoken to me, but he had given me his number.

Holy cow.

It felt too good to be true. I glanced down at my wrist, at the messy numbers scrawled there, and my heart skipped another beat. This wasn’t a dream. This was real.

I was still buzzing with excitement and disbelief as I continued working, but my mind kept drifting back to Yoongi, to the way he had looked at me, the sound of his voice, the feel of his hand on mine. The rest of my shift flew by in a blur, and when 10 p.m. finally rolled around, I couldn’t get out of the club fast enough.

As soon as I was out the door, I pulled out my phone, staring at the numbers on my wrist. My fingers hovered over the keypad, nerves bubbling up inside of me. Should I really call him? What if this was all a joke, or worse, what if he didn’t even remember me?

But then I thought about the way he had smiled at me, the way his eyes had lingered just a little too long. Maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a dream.

Taking a deep breath, I finally dialed the number. The phone rang once, twice, three times, before a familiar voice answered.

"Hello?"

My heart leaped into my throat, and for a second, I couldn’t find my voice. "Uh, hi... it’s Y/N. From the club."

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then I heard his soft chuckle. "Ah, the bartender. I’m glad you called."

I bit my lip, trying to hide my giddiness. "Yeah, well, you kind of gave me no choice," I teased lightly.

"Fair enough," he replied, amusement in his voice. "So, what do you say? Still up for going out?"

I glanced around, my nerves suddenly replaced with excitement. "Yeah, I think I am."

The morning sun filtered softly through the curtains as I sat at my vanity, carefully applying the finishing touches to my makeup. I was feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness; today wasn’t just any day—it was my first real date with Min Yoongi after i literally spent the whole night talking to him. The Yoongi. My heart raced at the thought of spending time with him outside of the club, just the two of us, with no distractions.

I had barely finished putting on my lipstick when my phone rang, causing me to jump slightly. I grabbed it quickly, seeing his name flash on the screen.

"Hey," his deep voice flowed through the line, smooth and warm. "I'll pick you up. Send me your address, pretty."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged at my lips. Pretty. He called me that so casually, yet it made my heart skip a beat every time. I tried to sound nonchalant, but my voice betrayed me with a soft chuckle. "Oh, okay," I replied, fumbling as I typed out my address and sent it to him.

He responded with a simple "Got it. See you soon," and I hung up, staring at my reflection for a moment longer. Okay, Y/N. You’ve got this. Just be yourself.

I opted for something casual but cute—an airy summer dress that I felt confident in, paired with my favorite sandals. I didn’t want to overdo it, but at the same time, I wanted to look good. After all, this wasn’t just any date. This was a date with Yoongi.

As I finished getting ready, I heard a knock on the door. My heart leaped, and I quickly checked my reflection one last time before rushing over to open it. The moment I pulled the door open, there he was.

Yoongi stood there, dressed in a simple yet effortlessly stylish outfit—a white button-down shirt, slightly rolled up at the sleeves, paired with black slacks. His black hair fell softly over his forehead, and his eyes twinkled with amusement as he took in my appearance.

For a brief moment, he didn’t say anything, just looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen. My face flushed under his gaze, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him.

"You look..." He paused, his lips curving into a small smile as he ran a hand through his hair. "So damn pretty."

His words made my heart flutter, and I laughed nervously, brushing a strand of hair behind my ear. "Thanks," I murmured, trying to play it cool, though inside I was melting.

He extended his hand toward me. "Shall we?"

I took his hand, his fingers warm against mine as he led me out of my apartment. As we walked to his car, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, still in awe of the fact that this was really happening. Yoongi—the man whose music I had adored for years—was holding my hand, and we were about to go on a date. It felt like a dream, one that I never wanted to wake up from.

Once we reached his car, Yoongi opened the passenger door for me, his actions gentlemanly and smooth. I slid in, my nerves settling slightly as I buckled my seatbelt and watched him move to the driver’s side. He got in and started the car, and soon enough, we were on our way.

"So, where are we going?" I asked, curious.

He glanced at me briefly, his smile returning. "It’s a surprise," he said cryptically, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he spoke.

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A surprise, huh?"

"You’ll like it, I promise," he added, giving me a reassuring look. I trusted him, though I couldn’t deny that the mystery only added to the excitement bubbling in my chest.

As we drove, the conversation flowed easily between us. Yoongi was surprisingly easy to talk to, despite his usually quiet and reserved demeanor. He asked me about my work, my hobbies, and what I liked to do for fun, and I found myself opening up to him in a way that felt natural and comfortable.

In return, he shared little snippets of his life, telling me funny stories about his friends and how much he loved producing music. He talked about his love for quiet places, the serenity of sitting by a river with a notebook, just writing. It was moments like these that made me realize just how thoughtful and introspective he was—a side of him that wasn’t always visible in public.

After about thirty minutes of driving, we pulled up to a secluded park just on the outskirts of the city. It was beautiful—quiet, with large trees providing shade and a lake glistening in the sunlight.

"Wow," I breathed as I stepped out of the car. The peacefulness of the place immediately put me at ease, and I couldn’t help but smile at the thoughtfulness behind Yoongi’s choice.

He came around the car, taking my hand once again as we walked toward the lake. "I figured we could have a picnic," he said, nodding toward a small basket he had in the backseat.

My heart swelled at the idea. "A picnic? Aren't you scared we might caught by the media?" I grinned, looking up at him.

His ears turned a slight shade of pink, and he shrugged. "i don't really care about what the media says. i'm a human aswell"

I squeezed his hand gently, touched by the gesture. "well then, i love it"

We found a perfect spot under a large tree, the shade providing a cool relief from the warm sun. Yoongi laid out a blanket, and soon we were sitting together, the gentle breeze carrying the soft sounds of nature around us.

He opened the picnic basket, revealing an array of snacks—fruit, sandwiches, even a small bottle of wine. It was simple but thoughtful, and I couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky to be here with him.

As we ate, we continued talking, sharing more stories and laughing over silly things. At one point, Yoongi picked up a strawberry and held it out to me. "Here," he said, his eyes glinting with a mischievous sparkle.

I giggled, leaning forward to take a bite, but at the last second, he pulled the strawberry away, smirking. "Too slow."

I playfully glared at him, crossing my arms. "Not fair," I pouted.

He chuckled, and after a moment, he held the strawberry out again, this time letting me take a bite. The sweet taste of the fruit was nothing compared to the warmth that spread through me from his teasing smile.

Time seemed to pass effortlessly as we lounged together, enjoying the serenity of the park. At one point, Yoongi leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes as he soaked in the peaceful atmosphere. I took the opportunity to study him, admiring the way the sunlight filtered through the branches above, casting a soft glow on his face.

He looked so at peace, so content. And it made me feel the same.

After a while, he opened his eyes, catching me staring. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

"You’re beautiful, you know that?" he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

I felt my cheeks flush, my heart doing a little flip at his words. "You’re not so bad yourself," I replied, trying to hide my embarrassment with a playful smile.

He chuckled softly, but the way his eyes lingered on mine told me that he meant what he said.

As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden hue over the park, Yoongi stood up, offering me his hand. "Come on," he said, his voice soft but insistent.

I took his hand, letting him pull me to my feet. We walked along the edge of the lake, the water reflecting the fading sunlight in a way that made everything feel almost magical. The world around us seemed to quiet down, the only sounds being the gentle lapping of the water against the shore and the occasional chirp of a bird in the distance.

At one point, Yoongi stopped walking, turning to face me. His expression had softened, a look of quiet contemplation on his face.

"I’m really glad you agreed to come out with me today," he said, his voice low, almost hesitant.

I looked up at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his tone. "I’m glad you asked me," I replied, my voice just as soft.

For a moment, we just stood there, the world around us fading into the background. It was just me and him, standing by the water, sharing a moment that felt almost too perfect to be real.

And then, without saying a word, Yoongi gently pulled me closer, his hand cupping my cheek as he leaned in. My heart raced, my breath hitching as his lips brushed against mine in the softest, sweetest kiss.

It was slow, tender, and filled with a warmth that spread through my entire body, leaving me breathless.

When we finally pulled away, his forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing softly in the quiet evening air.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice barely audible, but I could hear the emotion behind it.

I smiled, my heart swelling with a warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time. "For what?"

"For being here. For giving me a chance," he replied, his eyes soft and sincere.

I reached up, gently brushing my fingers through his hair. "You’re worth it," I whispered back.

It had been a whirlwind of a week since Yoongi and I started going on dates regularly. We’d been keeping things low-key, not caring too much about what the media might say. It was blissful—no pressure, no complications, just us. Every date felt like a slice of heaven, whether we were sneaking out for late-night drives or staying in to watch movies on the couch. Yoongi had a way of making everything feel easy, and for a while, I let myself believe that this little bubble we created could last forever.

But nothing ever stays hidden for long, especially when you're dating one of the most famous people in the world.

I was lying on my bed, doing my skincare routine with a sheet mask on, absentmindedly scrolling through my phone. I wasn’t expecting to find anything upsetting. In fact, I was enjoying the downtime, a rare moment to myself. That was until I stumbled upon an article that instantly made my heart sink.

"Min Yoongi of BTS, spotted at a bar months ago, writing his number on a bartender's wrist."

I froze. My fingers hovered over the screen as I read the article in shock. The photo attached was blurry, but it was definitely me. I recognized the scene instantly—the night Yoongi had come to the club where I worked and had asked for my number. I remember being so shocked and flustered, and now the world had access to that private moment.

My heart pounded in my chest as I scrolled down, reading article after article, each one with more intrusive headlines. My stomach twisted in knots as I clicked on the comments section of one post.

"I found her IG!" "Is this the bartender?" "She’s dating Yoongi? How dare she!" "She’s not even that pretty."

Each comment was worse than the last. The hate spilled across the screen, words laced with venom from people who didn’t even know me, yet somehow felt entitled to tear me apart. My hands started shaking, and my eyes stung as I continued to read.

Suddenly, the door to my bedroom opened, and Yoongi walked in. He looked relaxed, his usual calm self, but that all changed the moment he saw me. I was still lying on the bed, mask on, my phone gripped tightly in my hand. He crossed the room in a few strides, his expression instantly softening with concern as he approached.

"Y/N, you okay?" he asked, his deep voice low and soothing.

I didn’t answer him right away. Instead, I kept scrolling, my heart sinking further with each hateful comment. I felt the bed dip as Yoongi sat down beside me. He leaned over, glancing at my phone. The moment he saw what I was looking at, his expression darkened.

“Baby, don’t listen to them,” he said softly, reaching for my hand, but I pulled it away, still glued to the screen. I felt numb, my mind racing with thoughts about how much this could affect Yoongi’s life. The last thing I wanted was for my presence in his life to cause problems for him. I’d seen what rabid fans could do, how cruel the internet could be.

"She’s using him for clout." "Yoongi deserves better than her." "She’s just a nobody. How did she get his attention?"

I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to look anymore. My body trembled, and I let out a shaky breath.

"Y/N," Yoongi's voice was firmer now, but still gentle. He reached out again, taking the phone from my hands this time. I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. He set it aside, his body shifting as he leaned over me, his arms wrapping around me tightly, pulling me into his embrace. His warmth was familiar and comforting, but I was too upset to melt into him like I usually would.

"Yoongi, I…" I struggled to find the words. "I don’t want to ruin your reputation."

He sighed, pressing a kiss to the top of my head, his arms still holding me close. “Baby, listen to me. This doesn’t change anything. I don’t care about what those people say.”

I opened my eyes, tears welling up as I looked up at him. "But what if they don’t stop, Yoongi? They’re already finding my social media, my pictures… It’s only going to get worse."

Yoongi gently brushed the hair away from my face, his eyes locking with mine. “I don’t care about them, Y/N. I care about you. They don’t know us, they don’t know you. And honestly, if they can’t accept that I’m dating someone, that’s on them. Not you.”

He leaned down, smashing his lips against mine, the kiss filled with urgency and a need to comfort me. My body responded instantly, my heart aching as I kissed him back, my hands gripping onto his shirt. His lips were soft, but the kiss was passionate, filled with emotion. He pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against mine.

"Y/N, I love you. I love you, not what the media says, not what the fans think. You’re the one I want, the one I’ve chosen," he muttered between small kisses, his lips grazing mine as he spoke.

I let out a shaky breath, my heart racing, but I couldn’t stop the tears from falling. “Yoongi… I love you too. But I’m scared. I don’t want this to ruin everything you’ve worked for. I don’t want to be the reason you lose your fans.”

His eyes softened, and he brushed away the tears that had escaped down my cheeks. "You’re not ruining anything, okay? If people can’t handle the fact that I’m happy with you, then that’s their problem, not yours." He kissed me again, slower this time, his hands cupping my face gently. "Please don’t leave because of this. I need you."

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, but the doubt still lingered. I pulled away slightly, biting my lip. “But what if it gets worse? What if the media digs into my past, or my family? What if it becomes too much for you?”

Yoongi let out a small sigh, his fingers trailing softly along my jawline. “I’ve been dealing with the media for years, Y/N. They always find something to talk about, but it doesn’t matter. I’ll protect you from all of that, I promise.” He paused, searching my eyes for a moment before continuing. “we need a fandom cleanse anyway.”

I looked at him, really looked at him, and saw the sincerity in his gaze. This wasn’t just about protecting his reputation—he truly cared about me, about us. And in that moment, I realized that no matter how much hate or negativity came our way, Yoongi and I had something real, something that wasn’t going to be torn apart by strangers on the internet.

“I trust you,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “I really do.”

He smiled softly, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”

For the first time since I saw that article, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. Yoongi wasn’t just saying empty words—he meant it. And I knew that no matter how tough things got, we’d find a way to navigate through it together.

We lay there for a while, tangled up in each other, the world outside fading away as I found comfort in his arms. He held me close, his steady heartbeat calming the storm inside me. Eventually, the anxiety that had been gnawing at me began to fade, replaced by a quiet resolve.

Yoongi kissed my forehead, his voice soft as he spoke. “Let’s just focus on us, okay? Don’t let those people get into your head. I love you, and that’s all that matters.”

I nodded, snuggling closer to him. “I love you too, Yoongi.”

Yoongi’s lips trailed down my neck, leaving a trail of warm, electrifying kisses as he pressed closer, his body hovering over mine. I could feel his breath against my skin, each kiss making me shiver with anticipation. His hands roamed over my body, soft but firm, as if he was memorizing every curve. I let out a soft whimper, my head tilting back to give him more access, and he took the invitation eagerly, his lips finding that sensitive spot just below my ear.

"Yoongi…" I whined, my voice barely a whisper, breathless from the way his mouth moved against my skin. His name slipped past my lips, a plea hidden in the sound, and I felt him smirk against my neck.

“Hm?” he hummed, his voice vibrating against me, sending a jolt through my body. He moved to my ear, nibbling lightly on the lobe before pulling back just enough to look me in the eyes. “What do you need, baby?” His voice was low, teasing, but I could see the dark hunger in his gaze.

I bit my lip, feeling the heat build up inside me, my heart pounding in my chest. "Need you…" I moaned lowly, my body arching beneath his as I tugged on his shirt, wanting nothing more than to feel him closer.

He groaned softly, his lips grazing mine before he kissed me again, deeper this time, his tongue slipping past my lips in a slow, deliberate dance. The intensity made my head spin, and I could feel my body reacting to him, craving him.

Reaching for my phone, I unlocked it with shaky fingers and quickly scrolled through my playlist until I found the perfect song to match the mood—“Pretty When You Cry” by Lana Del Rey. As soon as the haunting melody filled the room, I dropped the phone to the side, letting the music set the atmosphere.

Yoongi’s eyes flicked to the phone, a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips as the song played. “Good choice,” he whispered, his voice a mix of admiration and desire. He kissed me again, this time rougher, more intense, like he couldn’t hold back anymore.

The music filled the room, the sensual beats of Lana’s voice blending with the sounds of our breathless kisses and the soft moans escaping my lips.

"i love you so much y/n. from the moment i saw you i already loved you" he says in between the kisses. "may i?" he asks me and without hesitation i nod. nothing will be ever hotter than a man asking for consent. making sure i'm comfortable and alright with what he's doing.

he slowly goes down to my lower part. sliding down my shorts, revealing my damped panty with a wet patch on it "so wet. all for me? hm?" he coos, rubbing circles on my clothed clit, my back arching just from his touch. "already? i'm not even doing anythig yet baby" he says chuckling. his teeth then bites on the hem of my panty, sliding it down to get full access of my cunt. "are you ready? we can stop if you want" he assures me "fuck no..keep going yoongs" i reply to him, shaky voice.

his tounge then starts to circle my clit, making my eyes roll back. him, smiling at the lewd noises i make, enjoying this. my hands makes it's way to his hair, tugging it. his tounge then starts to do it's magic. "fuck yoongs! they were right! your tounge technology is insane" i whimper, broken words, unable to speak fully with all the pleasure he's been giving me. "i-im coming!" i mewl, tightening my grip on his hair "yes baby, cum on my face yeah?" he says in between. i then couldn't take it anymore.

i felt my orgasm nearing, releasing white liquids on his face. he then faces to me, fuck he is so hot. especially with my liquids on his face. i then take off my shirt revealing my naked breast, i then cup his face, smashing my lips onto him, mixed with lust and love. "yoongs need you..fuck me please" i whimpered onto him, making him give me a smirk. he then starts to unbuckle his belt, sliding down his pants, revealing his erected cock, leaking with pre cum. "i'm clean, on birth control" i said "great" he replies, diving back onto the kiss.

his hands makes it's way to my breast, playing with my nipples as i feel his tip enter me "fuck, you're so tight" he grunts in between the kiss "you're mine, alright?" he says, deep voice, making me absolutely crazy. "fuck...yes i am" i reply, whimpering. "good girl" he chuckles, as our body releases wet noises and the bed creaking rhythmically in every thrust he makes. "yoongs..i'm close" i breathly said, not even a whisper nor a whimper anymore. "come with me baby yeah? cum for me" he says, biting his lips, looking at me.

"open your eyes. i want you to see who's making you cum" i then try my best in keeping my eyes open. i then felt my orgasm nearing, releasing my liquids once again. "baby wait for me, i'm almost there" he howls, "fuck, want me to cum inside you? hm? you'd like that don't you??" he says, while leaving a chuckle. "min yoongi!" i scream as i felt his release inside me, filling me to the brim, our liquids mixing with each other.

assurance sex is fucking great.

he then falls on top of me giving me a peck on my cheek "i love you, will you be my girlfriend?" he says revealing his gummy smile "yes i will" i give him a smile back, happily knowing i have him as mine, and me as his.

#rispwr #bts x reader #bts smut #yoongi #mintyoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #min yoongi #bts suga #suga bts #idol x reader #fic : expect the unexpected

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