#my only regret is not having joined earlier

[genotama]

lb I'LL MISS YOU. that said i'll be here all week and the week after that and the week after that and the week af-

[thef1diary]

Hands Full | O. Piastri

Kinktober 8/11 - Nipple Play

Summary: while you’re upset with him for forgetting about date night, Oscar can’t stop thinking about your boobs

warnings: 18+ smut, lil bit of angst at the beginning, nipple play, dry humping, tit fucking

wc: 4k

kinktober masterlist

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

Standing over him with your hands on your hips, you narrow your eyes, trying to stay stern. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart,” you say, your voice laced with playful exasperation as you catch Oscar staring at the little V of your dress for the millionth time. With you standing so close, your chest is practically at his eye level, making it hard for him to resist sneaking a glance. His guilty grin only deepens as his gaze darts back up to your face, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, though the apology is far from sincere. Before you can follow up with another scolding remark, he takes hold of your hips, his grip firm but coaxing, and pulls you down into his lap. His legs spread slightly to accommodate you as you settle against him, and you feel the warmth of his hands sliding up your sides.

“But honestly,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble as one hand drifts to cup your breast, his thumb brushing teasingly over your nipple through your dress, “can you really blame me for getting a little distracted?”

His touch is bold now, fingers tracing the shape of your curves as he brings you closer. You feel the heat of his breath against your neck as he dips his head, pressing a slow kiss just below your collarbone.

“I mean,” he continues, his voice husky as his other hand slides up to join in, squeezing gently, “when you’re standing there looking like this, how am I supposed to focus on anything else?” He pulls back just enough to look up at you, the dark intensity in his eyes making your pulse quicken as his hands continue to explore, his touch igniting a trail of heat along your skin.

You pull back a little, placing your hands on his chest to create some distance, your gaze turning stern. “I would’ve loved this attention during dinner, Oscar,” you say, the sting of disappointment still fresh in your voice. “You completely forgot about our date night.”

Oscar’s playful expression falls away, replaced by a look of genuine regret as he meets your eyes. His hands rest on your waist, his grip tightening slightly as if to keep you close despite the distance your words have created. “I know,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of remorse. “I messed up. I got caught up with things and lost track of time, but that’s not an excuse. I should’ve been there with you.”

His thumbs trace small circles against your hips, and he lets out a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. The sincerity in his tone, the way his hands hold you so gently, almost makes you forget why you were frustrated in the first place. Then, with a tenderness that melts the last of your resistance, he tilts his head up and brings his lips to yours, the kiss soft and hesitant at first, as if seeking your forgiveness.

The kiss deepens, slow and sweet, his mouth moving with a careful urgency, like he’s trying to make up for every lost minute. One of his hands slides up to cup your face, the touch warm and reassuring as he pulls you closer, his lips molding perfectly against yours. You can feel the unspoken apology in every caress, the quiet promise that he’d never leave you waiting again, and despite yourself, you find it impossible not to kiss him back, your frustration already slipping away with each tender caress.

You break the kiss, pulling back just enough to gauge his expression, the playful glint in his eyes rekindling some of your earlier mischief. “I dressed up for you, you know,” you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you let your hands slide down his chest.

Oscar’s grin returns, wide and genuine. “Mm, and I want to appreciate that outfit properly,” he replies, his tone filled with playful intent.

“Is that so?” you respond, feigning indifference as a smile threatens to break free.

“Definitely,” he insists, his gaze already drinking you in. “Show me what I missed.”

With a lighthearted laugh, you shuffle off his lap, preparing to indulge him. You spin around in a little twirl, your dress flaring out around you as you complete the motion. You catch his eyes widening, a look of awe crossing his face as he takes in the sight of you.

When you turn back to him, you find him watching with an intensity that sends a thrill down your spine. “Wow,” he breathes, his appreciation evident in the way his eyes glisten. “You look incredible.”

You settle back onto his lap, a smirk dancing on your lips as you catch the lingering spark of admiration in his gaze. But as you sit down, his eyes drift again, falling to the peak of cleavage your dress revealed. You can’t help but roll your eyes, a teasing smile still lingering.

“Really, Oscar?” you chide, lifting an eyebrow. “Again?”

He feigns innocence, but the mischievous grin on his face tells a different story. “I can’t help it,” his voice drops to a playful murmur as his hands wander back to your hips, thumbs brushing against the soft fabric of your dress. “You look too good for me to resist.”

You try to keep your tone light, but the heat rising in your cheeks betrays you. “Focus, Osc, we were having a serious conversation, remember?”

“Serious conversation?” He chuckles softly, shaking his head, still unable to resist the allure of your figure. “You can’t just put these right in front of me like that and expect me to keep my composure.”

You take a hold of his hands, guiding it firmly to your chest, a teasing smile on your face. “Better now? You get to see and touch,” you said, your voice playful yet sultry.

Oscar’s fingers envelop your breasts, your soft curves nearly spilling over his palms as he savors the freedom to explore. “Much,” he breathes, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his eyes dark with desire as they lock onto yours.

His hands knead your boobs over the fabric, his fingers pressing into the soft flesh, squeezing just enough to make your breath catch. The thin material of your dress offers little barrier, letting you feel the heat of his touch seeping through, sending a shiver down your spine. His thumb flicks over one nipple, the pressure light but teasing, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against the curve of your neck as his hands continue to explore, tracing the line of your cleavage with an appreciative hum. “God, you’re perfect,” he murmurs, his voice low and reverent, his breath hot against your skin. He shifts his grip slightly, cupping your tits more fully, his palms pressing them together in a way that makes you arch instinctively toward him, your body responding eagerly to his touch.

The pads of his thumbs work slow circles over your nipples, the teasing rhythm making your pulse quicken, and you can feel a smirk forming against your neck as he hears the way your breathing changes. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, his voice dripping with playful satisfaction as he watches your reaction.

You reach up slowly, your eyes locked on his, and pull the neckline of your dress lower. “Please,” you mumble, asking for more, anything to soothe the sudden ache in your tits that only he could relive.

The fabric gives way with a soft rustle, sliding down until your tits spill out, exposed to the cool air and his heated gaze. Oscar’s breath catches, and you watch as his eyes darken with unmistakable hunger, his gaze drinking in the sight of your bare skin.

Then, his lips part slightly, and he exhales a shaky breath, the need evident in his expression. “Fuck,” he murmurs, almost reverently, his voice hoarse as his eyes flicker up to meet yours again. It’s as if he’s barely keeping himself together, the sight of you so close and so exposed making him practically salivate.

Without a moment’s hesitation, his hands return to your chest, this time with a bolder touch, his fingers sinking into your flesh as he cups your boobs. The warmth of his palms contrasts deliciously with the cool air, and he gives a soft groan as he squeezes gently, like he’s savoring every inch of you. His thumbs brush over your nipples with a firmer pressure, his touch more confident now that there’s nothing between him and your skin.

Oscar leans in closer, his breath hot against your collarbone as he presses his lips there, planting open-mouthed kisses that make your skin tingle. His tongue flicks out, tracing a line across your chest before he pulls back to look at you, his eyes glinting with desire.

“You have no idea what you do to me,” he rasps, his voice thick with need as his hands continue to explore, making your pulse race with every slow, deliberate caress.

As his mouth closes around your nipple, his tongue swirling in slow, teasing circles, a surge of pleasure rushes through you, instinctively making you grind down against him as his name leaves your lips.

The heat of his mouth and the way his lips tug gently at your sensitive skin send shivers coursing through your body. Your hips press harder into him, the friction between your bodies creating an aching need that spreads like wildfire.

Oscar’s grip on your waist tightens as he senses the way your body responds, his low, appreciative groan vibrating against your chest. He switches to your other breast, wrapping his lips around the peak, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp. Your head falls back, a quiet moan escaping as your hips roll instinctively, pressing down against him, your body seeking more of the friction that ignites a slow-burning heat within.

The rhythm of your movements grows more urgent, driven by the waves of sensation he’s drawing from your nipples. Each flick of his tongue sends sparks shooting through your core, and you move instinctively, grinding down harder, your body chasing the pleasure he’s giving you.

He hums against your skin, the vibration making you shiver as he pulls you closer, savoring the way your body responds to him. His free hand slides up your back, fingers curling around your nape, guiding you even closer as he switches to the other boob, lavishing the same attention there, his teeth grazing lightly before soothing with his tongue.

“Just like that,” he murmurs between breaths, his voice rough with need as he looks up at you, his gaze darkened with a hunger that matches your own. “You’re so beautiful like this.” His words are a low rasp that only fuels the fire building between you, urging you to move even closer, pressing yourself against him as his hands and mouth continue to explore, drawing out every ounce of desire.

Oscar’s tongue swirls around your nipple with a slow, deliberate tease, sending tingling waves of pleasure through your chest and down to your core. Each flick feels like it draws you deeper into a heady fog, and when his teeth scrape gently against the sensitive peak, a breathless moan escapes your lips. You press down harder against him, your thighs squeezing his sides as you rock against the steady firmness of his body, seeking more of the friction that seems to set you ablaze.

He switches again, his lips finding your other breast, sucking the soft skin into his mouth while his hand cups the neglected side, his thumb rolling over your nipple with just the right amount of pressure. The rhythm of his tongue and fingers works together to unravel you, each caress intensifying the needy ache coursing through your body.

“Oscar…” you breathe out, your voice trembling with every surge of pleasure that rolls through you. The way his name falls from your lips seems to spur him on, his groan vibrating against your skin, his mouth working more eagerly as he shifts the weight of his body beneath you. His hands roam over your back and waist, one sliding down to grip your hip and guide your movements, making sure you keep grinding down on him, right where you can feel the weight of his cock pressing back against you.

The friction between your bodies builds into something overwhelming, a sweet, torturous tension that spirals tighter with every brush of his tongue, every squeeze of his hand. His lips tug at your nipple, then soothe it with his tongue, alternating between rough and tender until you’re writhing, your nails digging into his shoulders as you struggle to hold on to any semblance of control.

But you can’t. The sensations are too much, too intense. Each touch feels like it’s driving you closer to the edge, and the more he devours you with his mouth, the more you can feel yourself unraveling.

“Please…” you gasp, not even sure what you’re pleading for, only that you need more, need him to push you over that final precipice. He seems to sense it, his grip tightening as he pulls you down against him in time with the deepening suck of his mouth on your breast, the rhythm perfect and merciless.

Then, as if he knows exactly how to drive you wild, his teeth graze the swollen peak again, just enough to send a shock of pleasure straight through you, and it’s like something inside you snaps. The heat coils tight and bursts, your body arching into him as a cry escapes your lips, your hips grinding down harder as the wave of release crashes over you.

Oscar’s mouth doesn’t let up. He keeps lavishing your tits with attention, as if coaxing out every last bit of your pleasure, his tongue swirling, his lips tugging gently as you tremble above him. He holds you close, savoring the way you shudder in his arms, his soft groan echoing your own sounds of bliss, letting you ride out every pulse and wave until you’re left breathless and spent against him.

When the aftershocks finally start to subside, he presses one last lingering kiss to your nipples before looking up at you, his eyes still dark and full of desire, as if he’s not nearly finished yet. “You’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper that sends another shiver down your spine. His fingers trail up your sides, drawing you back into his embrace as his lips find yours.

Your lips part as Oscar kisses you, his mouth hot and insistent against yours. The taste of him is intoxicating, making your senses swirl as his tongue brushes against yours with a hunger that matches the intensity of your kiss. You let yourself sink into the moment, your body still buzzing from the pleasure he just drew from you.

As you shift slightly to press closer to him, your hips move instinctively, rolling down against his lap. The hard, unmistakable pressure beneath you sends a jolt through your body, your breath catching in your throat. You hadn’t realized he was still so hard, the weight and heat of him pressing right against your cunt, even through the layers of clothing that separate you.

A soft, surprised moan escapes you, and your hips give another involuntary grind, the friction sending a delicious shock of sensation rippling through your already sensitive body. Oscar’s grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as his breathing grows heavier, his lips parting against yours in a low, guttural groan.

“Fuck…” he mutters, his voice strained, the need in it unmistakable. His gaze meets yours, the desire in his dark eyes making your pulse quicken all over again. The way he looks at you, like he’s barely holding himself back, only intensifies the throbbing ache that starts to build between your thighs once more.

You can feel the firmness of his cock against you, and it’s almost impossible to resist the urge to move again, to feel that delicious friction that had nearly made you come undone. As you shift experimentally, you watch his reaction, his jaw tightening as his eyes flutter shut for a moment. When they open again, there’s a hunger in his gaze that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Still so worked up, huh?” you tease, a faint, breathless laugh escaping you. It’s meant to sound confident, but the way your voice trembles betrays how affected you are by the realization that you can feel him, hard and needy, beneath you.

You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before sliding off his lap. Oscar’s brows furrow with a mix of surprise and curiosity, his eyes following your every move. As you sink down onto the floor, you reach behind and unfasten your dress, letting the fabric slide down your body and pool at your knees before you shuffle it off completely. Now, you’re left in nothing but your underwear, kneeling between his parted legs.

The air feels cooler against your bare skin, and you can sense Oscar’s gaze raking over you, the hunger in his expression deepening as he takes in the sight of you on your knees before him. You place your hands on his thighs, your fingers curling into the firm muscle as you lean in closer, your eyes flicking up to meet his. There’s a flush on his cheeks, and the way his chest rises and falls tells you that he’s just as affected as you are.

Slowly, you run your hands up his thighs, feeling the tension in his body, the way he practically vibrates with need. You inch closer, your touch light and teasing, as you slip your fingers to the waistband of his pants, hooking them beneath the fabric. His breath catches when your hands brush against the outline of his erection, hard and straining beneath the fabric.

“Osc,” you murmur, your voice low and full of want as you look up at him through your lashes, “I want to take care of you, too.” The way you say it is almost a plea, the desire evident in every syllable, and the way his eyes darken in response sends a thrill through you.

You slide your hands off his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles, and look up at him with a teasing smile. “I want you to use me.” Your fingers trail up to your chest, and you press your boobs together, giving him a clear invitation. You open your mouth, letting your spit drool down to your cleavage, slicking it up. “Fuck my tits, Oscar, I want to feel you there.”

His breath hitches, and for a moment, he seems frozen, the weight of your words hanging in the air. Then, as if a dam has broken, he moves quickly, his hands fumbling to undo his belt and push his pants down enough to free his cock. You can see how hard he is, the sight making your pulse quicken with anticipation.

Oscar shifts closer, positioning himself between your breasts, his heated gaze locked onto yours. You squeeze your tits around him, enveloping his cock in your soft flesh. His low groan reverberates in the quiet room as he starts to move, the tip of his cock brushing against your skin with each thrust, your saliva and his precum allowing him to move easily.

The feeling of him sliding between your boobs, hot and hard, sends a rush of heat through you. You look up at him, your hands pressing your chest tighter around his length, encouraging him to move faster, deeper. “Just like that,” you whisper, your voice breathy with arousal. “Don’t hold back.”

Oscar’s hands find their way to your shoulders for balance as he picks up the pace, his hips rolling forward with increasing urgency. His cock slips between your breasts in a steady rhythm, each thrust driving him closer to the edge. His eyes are locked on you, his jaw clenched with the effort to keep from losing control too soon.

The sight of him above you, his expression twisted in raw desire, makes your own body respond in kind. You can feel the heat building in your core, your own arousal growing as you watch him edge closer to coming undone.

You look up at him, your voice breathless and filled with need as you speak. “Oscar, love, I want you to cum on my tits,” you urge, your words coming out as a low, desperate plea. You squeeze your boobs tighter around him, watching his expression falter as his thrusts become more erratic, each one pushing him closer to the brink.

His grip on your shoulders tightens, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes half-lidded as he watches himself slide between your tits, the sight clearly driving him wild. You keep urging him on, your tone soft and coaxing, “I want to see it… feel it. Let go for me, Osc.”

Your words are the final push he needs. His hips snap forward one last time, his whole body tensing as a deep, guttural moan rips from his throat. You stick your tongue out and he watches you intently, the sight of you waiting to taste him pushing him over the edge. The first hot spurt lands on your tongue, and you keep it out, eager for more as he continues to release, each pulse of his climax painting across your chest and lips. The warmth of it makes your skin tingle, and you close your eyes for a moment, savoring the feel of his pleasure marking you.

When you open your eyes again, his gaze is locked on yours, a mix of satisfaction and lingering desire in his expression. He’s breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he comes down from the high, and the sight of you covered in his release seems to mesmerize him.

Without hesitation, you lick your lips, swallowing what landed on your tongue, the act making his breath hitch. There’s a flicker of something primal in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you—glowing, breathless, and unashamed. It’s as if seeing you like this has only deepened the hunger in him, the intensity in his gaze making your pulse race all over again.

As he sees your tits covered in his cum, an idea sparks in his mind, something too filthy for him to resist. His breath hitches, and a mischievous grin spreads across his face as he leans closer, his eyes dark with desire. “Would you consider getting ‘em pierced?” he asks, his voice low and teasing.

The question hangs in the air between you, and his imagination runs wild. He envisions how the nipple jewelry would look glistening with his release, each glimmering piece a reminder of this moment, of the way he worships your body. The thought makes his heart race—fuck, he’d be even more obsessed with your tits than he already is.

You meet his gaze, your own pulse quickening at the idea, the playfulness of it only adding to the heat in the air. There’s something intoxicating about his suggestion, and you can’t help but smile at the depths of his desire for you.

He pulls you back into his lap, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he settles you against him. His fingers brush over your skin, and you shiver as he spreads the remnants of his release across your tits, savoring the slick warmth as he traces his fingers along your curves.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your neck as he whispers, “Just imagine how fucking beautiful you’d look with those piercings… dripping with my cum.” The idea sends another thrill through you, and you find yourself nodding, lost in the depths of his gaze, caught between the thrill of his words and the intoxicating pleasure of the moment.

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[miirohs]

birds of a feather [k.s]

pairing: Ken Sato x GN!Reader wc: 1.4k cw: bad hurt/comfort (?) an: i got that skibidi found family type brainrot fs 😂 on gyatt.... anyways i promise i will get back to writing formula one but i need to simp for this man solidly. also i can't write hurt/comfort ive said this a million times but ugh man does it suck to write.

The house in Japan was a lot more peaceful than the one in the States. More secluded, quietly overlooking the city. 

Every day you came home from work, the house dark and empty with Ken gone to his other job.

You didn’t bother him about it, keeping the delicate balance between his two jobs. You didn’t mind it either. It gave you time to yourself, time to adjust, but you weren’t sure you could’ve said the same about Ken.

Ever since his last run-in with the KDF, he’d been exhausted. His eyebags only grew instead of shrinking, and his watch went off almost every possible moment it could. You had asked him what was wrong, but he’d never been one to let you lick his wounds for him, watering it down to some kind of side effect of the stress on him.

Unlocking the doors, you hopped inside, pulling your shoes off as you looked around.

You could hear the tv running in the background, the clinking ice against metal. It wasn’t strange for him to be off duty after games, but you just assumed he wouldn’t be.

The beatdown was probably worse than usual, if you had to guess.

You wandered into the living room, and there he was, sitting in his ice bath. You couldn’t see much because of how dark the room was, but part of his face was lit by the replays on the screen. 

You could almost make out his eyes narrowing at the screen, huffing as he sunk deeper into the water.

“Ken?” He turned to you, eyes pained as he pushed himself up.

“Hi baby.” He greeted softly, a hand tenderly moving to his side as he turned to you.

“Are you okay-“

“I’m fine.” You flinched at the strained quality of his voice.

“My bad. I was just trying to check on you.” You mumbled, holding up your hands as you stood stuck to your spot.

He saw, and his eyes softened, extending an inviting hand to you.

“I’m sorry. The seasons been kind of rough lately.” He murmured as he held your hand gently, squeezing it.

You hummed in response, eyes trailing down the expanse of his body. You could see some bruising, blooming in splotches of yellow, purple and red under his skin. It looked like it hurt.

“I’m taking it you got into a fight on field?”

“Not this time, no,” He scoffed, leaning against the warmth of your hand, “I collapsed, tried crawling my way to the last base, and failed. I was so close to getting those points.” The last part was tinged with embarrassment, his face pulled into a grimace as your hand ran across his arm.

“That's terrible, I'm sorry Ji.” He shrugged, eyes staring ahead at the screen, those embarrassing scenes reflecting back in his eyes. “It is what it is.”

“So you’re off duty tonight then?” He sighed, nodding reluctantly.

“For now, but who knows?” He said sullenly. You couldn’t stop your hopes from crashing entirely, hand slipping out of his unconsciously.

“Don’t look at me like that, you know how it is. I can’t control what happens, I…” He stopped, a look of regret creeping onto his face.

“I'll join you in a bit. Promise I'll try not to leave tonight?” He tried softly, looking at you with poorly disguised hope in his eyes. 

It worked, and you released the breath you were holding.

“You’ll be okay?”

He didn’t respond, and you didn’t push him for one, quietly leaving the room.

True to his word, he appeared at the door an hour later, dragging himself across the threshold. He looked worse than he did earlier, wincing slightly as he sat down on the edge of the bed, hunched over into himself.

“That must have been one really good ice bath…” You trailed off, eyes narrowing at the various injuries on his arm.

“Those look awfully fresh Ji, did you at least get Mina to look at those?” 

“No! No. Uh, no. I didn’t want her to.” He spluttered, crossing his arms. You couldn’t see his face, but you could almost imagine the expression he was making.

“Take off your shirt.” He blinked, a baffled look on his face as turned to you.

“No, why the-“

“Take off your shirt Ken, don’t make me say it again.”

He crossed his arms tighter as you got closer, hand outstretched. You paused, looking at him.

“Would you be okay with me looking?”

He nodded reluctantly, grumbling about not wanting to make a big deal out of it. He had turned away from you, breathing uneven as you got closer.

You pulled up his shirt, heart thumping at the sight. It was worse than what you’d seen earlier.

“Ji, what is this? How…?” He didn’t respond immediately, rubbing his face as he took a deep breath

“I didn’t think they were that bad,” He muttered, wincing as he pulled the shirt over his head, holding it in his hands tightly, “Not as bad as they were last week, babe.”

“How did you even get these?” You questioned, finger tracing up his spine, avoiding the poorly bandaged cuts and bruising.

“Do I have to tell you?” He said, flustering you with the defensiveness in his tone. 

“No. No, you don’t have to.” You reaffirmed quietly, returning to your side of the bed to rummage through your night chest till you found what you needed. “But I would’ve liked it if you did.”

“It’s complicated.”

“I figured it would be. Hold still for me?” 

You shook the bottle of neosporin, spraying down the wounds. He tensed up, a squeak escaping his lips.

“It hurts!” 

“Would you rather Mina do it?”

He shook his head. 

“That’s what I thought. Luckily these were already somewhat decently clean. That bruising looks like a muscle injury though.” You whistled, setting down the neosporin in favor of some bandaids. 

He continued to let him work on your, mostly silent other than the occasional wincing. You could tell he was trying his hardest to play tough, unaware you could see through it all.

“I’m sorry you have to see me like this.” He muttered suddenly, fists clenching the bedsheets as you gently laid the bandages on his back. “It’s not fair to you.”

“Kenji, I know it's tough for you, but I'm here because I want to be. I care about you." You scooted to the edge of the bed, looping a hand into his loosening fist.

The dim lights highlighted the sharpness of his face, eyes cutting through the dimmed light as they looked out the window. He looked beautiful, as exhausted as he was.

“I want to tell you. I don’t know if there will ever be a right time for you, and you deserve better than me being on the move all day and night.”

“Nope.” You popped the p, clutching his hand tighter. “We promised to stick together, remember? Hell, I followed you all the way from the states because I was confident we could work together. So, I need you to speak to me. Make it work.”

A heartbeat passed. And then he spoke.

“The pressure, the expectations... I feel like I'm constantly running, trying to keep up." He confessed quietly, “There's a lot riding on what I’ve done.”

“Something tells me you’re not talking about baseball.”

“I’m not,” He laughed humorlessly, “I’m just worried I’m not doing enough. That I’m not enough.”

"Ken," you said softly, turning to him “I can’t pretend to understand what you do, but you’re making so many people proud. Your mother, your father, me.”

His eyes were glossed over, and he brought up an arm to cover them, sniffing slightly.

“I hope you know I’m here for you. Birds of a feather, we gotta stick together, you know? I’d follow you to hell and back Ken, and you know that.” You continued, bringing up his hand to press a kiss to it.

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite the tears. "Thank you," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "For everything."

“Of course,” you replied, leaning against him carefully.

“The next time you get injured, just let Mina or me know, understand?”

“Perfectly.”

[verstappen-cult]

Max is upset when you can't be at his side when the race weekend starts. Then when you're back to his side, I guarantee you can't not leave his side at all. This boy is going to stick with you like a koala till he's satisfied

You couldn't join Max the past weekend in Australia due to your work and now you regret it so much. You could’ve just asked your boss for a few days off and she would have said yes, and you could have been by his side during the fiasco that was the Australian Grand Prix.

Max was a little upset when you told him that you would not be in Australia, but after a long conversation — that ended up with you promising to be in Suzuka — he understood. 

Max has to make a quick stop in Monaco to pick a few things before flying to Japan, so you planned to wait for him with a delicious dinner and his favorite dessert. But you didn’t even have time to go to the grocery store because Max decided to arrive earlier, much earlier.

“What do you mean you’re outside?” You squeal, putting on your sneakers. “Outside of where?” You hold your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you grab your bag, waving goodbye to your friends.

“The pilates studio.” He simply says. 

“No, you’re in Australia.”

He laughs, “No, I’m in Monaco.”

“No becau—” You stop dead in your tracks when you step outside because he is, in fact, there, leaning against his car. “Max!”

He opens his arms and you don’t waste any time, colliding against his body. You drop everything just to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“I missed you so much.” You whisper against his neck, and you feel his smile when he kisses your cheek. 

“I couldn’t stay there any longer,” He shrugs, grabbing your things from the floor. “I missed my lucky charm this weekend.”

Your smile fades at the memory of Sunday’s race. “I’m sorry for what happened.” Max shrugs again, dismissing the topic with a wave of his hand. “How are you feeling?”

“These things happen. I won’t lie and say that I don’t care but we can’t cry about it, the team’s working on fixing everything and we’ll be back stronger than ever.”

You kiss him because there’s nothing else you could do. Hearing him talk that way when you know the old Max would have been beating himself up means everything to you.

“What was that for?” He chuckles when you pull away, a faint blush on his cheeks. 

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend now?” He rolls his eyes but leans to leave a chaste kiss on your lips. “Can you drop me off at the grocery store? I need to buy a few things for dinner.”

You fall into an easy conversation as he drives through the streets of Monaco. He tells you about everything that's wrong with the car and what they’re doing to fix those issues and, in return, you tell him what you’ve been doing in his absence, and how much the cats miss him. 

Soon enough, you reached your destination. 

“Okay, I won’t be long. You can go home and—what are you doing?”

“I’ll come with you.”

“No, you’re going home to rest.” But he doesn’t listen. Max just gets out of the car, opens the door and helps you out. “Max.”

He groans, “I just,” He drops his head slightly forward. “I missed you so much, I don’t want to leave you.”

Your heart melts and you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking like a lost puppy in front of you, so you simply take his hand, dragging him inside.

Of course you don’t miss the way his whole face lights up. 

You end up arguing in the milk aisle because Max doesn’t leave your side, not when you try to move away to grab something you need and definitely not when you bump into one of your friends who you haven’t seen in a while, so you’re unable to hug her. 

The argument ends with you pinned against the store shelves with Max whispering filthy things in your ear. You only pull away when the store manager clears his throat saying that “if you don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be banned for life.”

You think that once at home Max will want to take a rest, forgetting about you, but, to your surprise, he just takes a quick shower before joining you in the kitchen. 

You cook dinner together, with a few kisses and ear scratches to the cats. And then you eat together, talking about everything and nothing at all, enjoying each other’s company. 

Of course Max doesn’t let you shower alone, he joins you there too.

[drluvsick]

𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐦𝐞? — 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐰𝐚

sanemi wants to impress you, so he turns to his cooking skills. NOT PROOFREAD.

word count : 684

“make her a flamboyant meal, she’ll love it,” tengen confidently said, “take it from me!”

“why should i be taking advice from you?” sanemi growled, “i can deal with my own problems.”

“clearly not, if you haven’t asked her out yet.”

“it’s none of your business. get your drama addict ass out of my face.”

“well, she’ll never like you with that attitude.”

sanemi grumbled under his breath, cursing him for making sense.

he left the conversation after that, taking a walk for some much needed alone time. 

his words echoed from earlier, “make her a flamboyant meal, she’ll love it.”

“…she’ll love it.”

would you? from him? now that he thought about it, his cooking skills weren’t too shabby. if he tried hard enough…

he set his plan into motion. 

knock. offer breakfast with him under a disguise of “making too much food”. hopefully make you happy. that was the plan. 

he was regretting this immediately as soon as his fist made contact with the entrance. as he got ready to dash out, you slid open the door—newly dressed in your hashira outfit. 

“so pretty.” he thought to himself before snapping quickly into his usual resting face. 

“oh, sanemi, what a nice surprise! i was about to have breakfast if you’d—”

“actually, i’m here to invite you to breakfast,” he cut you off out of nervousness, “i made too much this morning, so i was wondering if you’d like to join me.” sanemi’s gaze turned elsewhere as he felt his face heat up. he couldn’t believe that his words came out that smoothly. 

your eyes turned mischievous. everyone knew that you and sanemi liked to mess with each other on the pettiest things, and this would be no exception. 

“oh? are you sure you just made too much, or did you do this on purpose just to spend some quality time with lil ol’ me?” you suppressed a giggle at his involuntary flustered expression. 

“yes, dumbass. i wouldn’t just go and make extras for you willingly.” he spat out in defense. a big fat lie. 

“you know, too much lying’s not a good thing to practice. glad to know you care,” you replied casually, closing the door before taking your place next to him.

“wha—?!” his face was tinted red, a shade that suited him nicely. “oi, whoever said that i cared about you?” 

“love, you can’t hide shit from me.” you knowingly smiled before taking a bento box from him. “so, where are we eating?” 

you were going to be the death of him. 

romantic places always set a romantic mood, or at least as romantic as you could get with your back to back banter with sanemi. i guess you could think of it as your very own love language to him. 

sanemi would never admit it out loud, but he loved these moments with you. moments where you’d be yourself with him instead of that prim and proper attitude at hashira meetings and such. 

he loved your voice. your laugh. your presence. your personality. he loved you. 

“you’re not half bad at cooking, but i bet i could do better.” 

“be thankful you’re getting free food from me,” he growled back, although softer than what he’d usually sound to others. 

after a few seconds, a soft smile graced your features. “thank you, sanemi.” 

his face changed from surprised to a smile matching yours. “you’re welcome.” 

a stray cherry blossom fell on his head, a soft delicate thing contrasting to the roughness it landed on. you gently brushed it off before tucking some hair behind his ear. how cheesy. 

you immediately stood up after, picking up your empty box as sanemi mirrored your acts, albeit lethargic after what had happened. 

you glanced at him, stacking yours on top of his to reuse. “thanks again! it was delicious.” 

he had only a moment to process your words before you tiptoed forward and kissed him on the cheek. then you rushed away as sanemi brought a hand to his rough cheek and malfunctioned. 

you were squeezing his heart in the best ways possible.

overluvsick | please do not repost, translate, and/or claim my works as yours !!

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[shaisuki]

my regrets and joy || bully! satosugu

SERIES MASTERLIST

content warnings noncon, dubcon, angst, talks of abortion, lots of crying, nanami and haibara being the best to reader.

notes finally updated this.

synopsis the reason you decided it's payback time.

weekends after a long dragging week of exams, chasing deadlines and activities is your motivation to continue and push through the week. the promised of resting and a time for yourself where you can snooze through the late afternoon. instead you're waking up on a saturday morning at a bed that doesn't belong to you.

the softness and the scent of sandalwood and bergamot lingered in the bed where you lay. the smell of fresh linen also tinting in sheets. it was dead giveaway that you weren't anywhere near in your dormitory where you shared it with a roommate. posters of different genres of anime you liked are plastered in the walls along with a small bookshelf and your nightstand in your small room. here, it was devoid of any personal touches.

you softly wince when you stretched your body. the familiar aching of muscles and the stinging of bruises and teeth marks decorating your plush body. the smooth texture of the sheets doesn't soothe you from the bruises they made. you slowly moved your body. sitting in a upright position and that seems to worst. the place between your legs is where it hurts the most considering they were insistent on fucking you on both of your holes. you ignored the soreness and went to reach for the bag you brought with you.

rummaging through the contents of it and failing to notice suguru's presence looming at the door of the bedroom. holding a glass of water for the guest they have for the night.

“good morning, princess.” geto said, spooking you off and accidentally gripping the blister pack of your birth control pills. the crunching of the foil covering the gridded pack resonates in the room and it doesn't escape suguru when you put back whatever you're holding in your bag.

he places the glass in the nightstand before joining you in bed. placing himself behind you and he wraps his muscular arms around your round stomach. “continue what you're about to do.” he orders and you slowly reach out for pills you concealed to him earlier. he didn't say anything but you feel his steely gaze following your every move. he didn't even say anything when you revealed what you were holding as you pressed the content of it to pop the pill. there in your palm rests two colored pills. you always take two when something happened like this and since the two won't bother to use protection when fucking you and you won't risk of a pregnancy that you don't want.

there is only what your peripheral vision can do. you don't even make the current expression suguru plastered on his face. tentatively you slowly brought your palm to your mouth and swallowed the pills before grabbing the glass of water and taking a drink from it.

the raven colored haired boy remained silent. humming as he buries his face to your neck and inhaling the natural scent of your body. “geto? can i go back to my place now?” you ask unsure. your heart beating fast and there is a reverberating sound tingling in your skin where his lips are pressed. his hold in your stomach tightens and it started to hurt enough to form bruises. “eager to go back like you have a choice.” he whispers. nibbling the shell of your ear and that snaps something inside of you. “that's why i'm asking for permission.” you snarl. quickly regretting that and suguru raises a brow at you. geto hums.

“someone's a little irritated this morning.” he whispered. his large hand came to cup your jaw, squishing it hard and forced you to look at him. “an attitude this early, careful.” he warns. his voice holding such venom in them that's enough to paralyzed you. “yeah and then what?” you challenge to him. you shouldn't be playing fire but you were so pissed that he still decided to toy with you and you're dying to go back to your own place. away from them and it looks like they're still not contented from tormenting you.

geto stares at you. trying to suppress a smile threatening to curve on his lips from the scowl that is currently plastered on his face. he likes you demure and always so pliant however when you run your mouth like this, challenging him for a fight that you can't win, it always made his cock twitch and fuck, he could get used to this.

it fills you with dread doing something like this. you can't help it sometimes and it felt good being able to stand up for yourself and be brave, if you only were that in the first place when they started to make your life miserable you shouldn't have ended in this situation, in a bed where they forced you to lay and have their way to you.

“oh, what's this?” gojo muses. interrupting the little scene unfolding before him. it was always fun to see geto being worked up. almost breaking his usual cool demeanor over something trivial and putting up with your bratty behavior when you mustered some courage and you look so scrumptious this early morning. wearing one of their shirt from the night before. your soft belly are pressed against the tight fabric. your big thighs are squished together making them look bigger than they already are and your chubby cheeks are crushed by his best friend's hand and that terrified look from your face. it's simply amusing.

“shut up, satoru. this one ought to be taught a lesson. get your ass here if you want to join.” geto snapped at him and he didn't need to be told twice.

“wouldn't miss that, suguru.” gojo chuckles and he's now behind you. licking your now naked round shoulder. your back pressed against his naked body. “we did breed you a lot yesterday and all that fucking, you still have the strength to be cranky this morning. perhaps it wasn't enough.”

then it happened like it always does.

“there's no chance for me to be pregnant, doctor. i was in a two-day coma after overdosing and i was on the pill. isn't people especially for those who are pregnant lose their babies after overdosing?”

the doctor in front of you coughs to clear his throat before speaking up and you pull your sweater closer to you. feeling colder as the minute passes by. it didn't help that you started to hate hospitals and meeting with doctors but just to erase your doubts and put your mind at ease for the sickness you were experiencing the months, you decided a professional would help and you wished you didn't.

“i understand your concerns, miss. being on the pill is a highly recommended protection against pregnancy however contraceptive methods aren't a hundred effective and regarding to your history of overdosing, as much i don't want to say it, it is what most people call as a miracle.”

a miracle.

you want to throw every curse word you know at the doctor in front of you but instead you take a deep breath. collect your thoughts and listen to whatever knowledge he can conjure to help you. suggesting to take a second opinion and order more tests to be thorough but you have heard enough and you don't want to stay any longer at that cold, grey office.

flowers pushed through the earth. decorating the ground with their bright colors and the soft breeze flowing through the little botanical garden gave you a sense of peace and sanity that keeps you at bay. you can't even think of single thought. deeply fixated on the flowers sprouting in the ground and only to be trampled by being stepped on.

you want to be angry but you can't bring yourself to be. the weight of the confirmation hasn't settle down for you to let hell loose. to think that you were finally free and you celebrated too early for it lead you to this. why even you're far away from them still they manage to get their clutches to you?

“—(y/n).... (y/n)?” you broke out in your trance after the call of your name coming from haibara. a concerned smile if offered to you and you let out a small smile. “are you okay?” he asks you worriedly. “yeah.” you lied. haibara doesn't need to know. you bothered him long enough with your burdens. “okay, shall we go home now?” the brunnete beams at you and you followed him in the parking lot.

the ride to the place where you moved out is silent except for the song playing in the radio. haibara hums to the beat of it which made you smile but it falters when you remember what happened at the doctor's office.

there's no denying of it. you were really pregnant and the symptoms were consistent. you choose to be blind like you always does. afraid of what the outcome and the suspicion that you really are pregnant came true but why? of all the times you took those pills and being in the verge of death. it thrived and survived the ordeals your body had gone through. telling you that it wanted to home in your body and it was meant to be but were you going to be bad if you don't want it or was it the world telling how bad you are in your past life and this is your punishment. a life filled with suffering so you can atone for all the since you have committed.

nanami couldn't quite grasp the way how your thoughts run. some days you were you. a regular woman of your age with hobbies and dreams to aspire with a smile that you can get through whatever hardships that is thrown at you. he was filled assurance that you were starting to be yourself after that accident. when you started to smile bit by bit and some days you were distant. a stranger with no direction in life. drowned in a ocean of your problems. sinking in the depths of black, murky water with no intention of surfacing up. forever in the darkness.

he knows you too well and since the night and the day you woke up from what he wished was only a nightmare. he spent the rest of his days knowing you. of what a person you are in your broken shell. in your walls built up high that he patiently climb for you to trust him and it rewarded him you. the real you.

haibara have been babbling for the last minutes and nanami never left his sight at you whereas you find him staring intimidating you didn't even bothered to tell him to stop and there wasn't a smile on your lips while haibara talks. you always find his friend's antics endearing and you always listened to him. laughing at the little details but now, you weren't. your eyes a little dead and your attention is occupied with the gears turning inside your head.

nanami clears his throat trying to get your attention and it work. your lips in a tight line after realizing haibara was talking and your weren't listening and that's what he took the opportunity to ask you a question. “how did your check-up with the doctor go?” and nanami regretted asking you that question when your eyes widen and your lips tremble. blinking furiously to fight the tears and shaking your head off. it was like digging a buried bad memory and he just brought it up for you to face.

“i-i don't want to tell you both about it.” your voice shaky and then a tear drop fall from the corner of your eye. “i burdened you both since the day you helped me and i'm ashamed for all the trouble i have caused.”

nanami was about to say sometimes when haibara interrupted him. “no!” he retaliated before muttering an apology for raising his voice then continued. “don't say that! you're not a burden and it's not like you wanted to be in this situation. you were a victim.” he says and that made you to cry harder.

“the doctor told me i'm pregnant.” you revealed and nanami and haibara's eyes widen. although on nanami's part he knows it. he suspected but never confirmed it since you were fine and it will be you who knows the changes happening in your body. “oh, (y/n)....” haibara wistfully says and then crashes his body to yours to hug you. the kind of hug that a friend will give you. “do you think we'll change just because you are pregnant? sshh. don't say anything and just cry it all out. nanami and i will support every decision you'll make.” haibara looks at nanami and they both exchanged looks. you wouldn't have to go through this alone. you have them.

true to their words nanami and haibara kept their promise to take care of you and supported your decision that you were keeping the pregnancy cause it was there and the child is already growing inside you. as much as possible you avoided doing what a expecting mother did. it was already enough that your growing belly is a proof of your pregnancy but you still took care of it. you didn't bother to take an ultrasound to know the gender of the baby. it's already painful that you're going to be a mother to a child conceived by its father who forced you.

you didn't need a reminder but haibara insisted. he was documenting the whole duration of your pregnancy. a camera he brought is already filled with photos of you with him and nanami. window shopping at the baby's section in malls. nanami massaging your feet while you sat with a bowl of your cravings in your hand. haibara baby proofing the apartment you have. you crying in front of the television. hormones you said and haibara laughing at you. nanami cooking for you with his sleeves rolled up and a apron tied around him. you and your swollen belly in months and the next photo is you having two babies cradled your chest in the hospital bed.

twins. you have twins and in the most rare of cases you conceived two babies with different fathers. it was evident. a crown of hair in their heads. a white hair to the younger twin and a black hair to the older twin.

you didn't accept them right away when you first heard the cries after a excruciating birth you have to go through. cause that cries belongs to children whose fathers laid waste to your being. who destroyed you but in a glimpse of their scrunched up faces crying, a serene kind of calm washes over you. these children of yours are innocent and shall not suffer your wrath and regrets because they were made of ill intentions towards you.

they were healthy. the doctor said. strong and loud cries of babies meant of good health. they cried and cried until they were given to you. little bundle of joys. that's what they are called and you don't want to call them like that. considering you wished for their demise during one of the times of your pregnancy that may be they would change their minds and slip out of you. these are your children now and you would not wish harm for them. they are yours to protect and to love.

“what will be the color of your eyes, kenji?” you coo at the newborn in your arms. his white hair incredibly fluffy and doing the same to the other newborn of yours whose hair color is the same as his father. you wouldn't dare to call nor speak of their names to your children. they don't want to know that they have a father like them. “how about yours, yushin?” you continue to ask them like they can understand you.

of course, it would like the same as theirs. hours from now they will open and show the colors of their eyes that resembled them. not only in the color of the eyes but also the features they have. in the next weeks it will show. the faces you loathed so much but you convinced yourself that it is your children. they may look alike but they will never grow up to be like them. you were raise them to be kind and strong. who will value the feelings of others as much they value theirs.

“mama loves you both.” you whisper and kissing their foreheads. you would show that you loved them for the years to come.

not only they grew up alike, their behaviors started to show similar to them. yushin is a calm child while kenji, his little brother younger than him for a few minutes is a wild child. always demanding your attention and is clingy. cries when you show the littlest of attention to his brother and you would soothe yushin's pouts after giving his little brother the attention. you loved them equally but to yushin's eyes you love his little brother more and that pains you.

at the tender age of three, yushin seems to quite understand how the world works similar to his brother but ignores it as long he have you. sleeping soundly in your arms while his older brother stares at his younger brother. yushin stares right up at you. “sleeping.” he says. pointing to the younger twin in your arms. you nod. “that's right, yushin. kenji is sleeping.” you said to him and he imitates you nodding.

you put kenji in the room and after putting him to his bed. you directed your attention to yushin. patting his head in a affectionate manner. your child melts at the gesture and he slowly descends to sleep and then you put him besides his brother.

you wonder how long you can protect this peace. sooner or later you will have to face them. lately fate is slowly intertwining your life with theirs and you were afraid what will they do if they were to find they have a child with you and you fear it the most. you didn't fear for yourself, you feared for your children.

it was time to strike back. you'll finish what they started and it would be the end of all. you will live your days with your children and see them grow up. it was decided. you're going to fight now in your own ways.

this time they won't know what's coming for them.

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[bangtanintotheroom]

Just Like Candy (M)

She's just like candy, she's so sweet

But you know that it ain't real cherry, know that it ain't real cherry

🔊 candy - doja cat (spotify | soundcloud) 🔊

• Pairing: S.Coups x (F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Strangers to Lovers, Angst, Smut

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 7.3k

• Summary: Following a breakup, Seungcheol is looking for a distraction for the night. You catch his eye with your red lips and the rest is history.

• Warnings/themes: mentions of a breakup, sulky Cheol 🥲, his friends are real ones, drinking, swearing, one night stand, flirting, making out, dirty talk, handjobs, fingering, oral (m. and f. receiving), c*me swallowing, strength kink, manhandling, hint of begging, OC’s lips are often compared to 🍒

• Notes: Welp, here it is; my first Cheol fic! I didn't plan to take this long to finish, but between work, getting sick and my bestie's birthday, ya girl has been busyyy 🥲 but here he is, so enjoy! 🎉 much thanks to @hobeemin for the beta! 💖

Seungcheol was barely paying attention to his friends' conversation, trying desperately not to go onto his ex’s Instagram and check her recent stories. But every time his thumb hovers over the multi-colored circle with her smiling face, the recent events play through his mind. It leaves a bitterness on his tongue, which ends up with him closing the app for what must have been the fifth time.

“Hyung, get off of there.”

He looked up to see Wonwoo giving him a stare of sternness mixed with worry, feeling sheepish that he was caught red-handed. Then again, he must have noticed earlier and only chose to say something now.

“Sorry.”

Wonwoo sighed, leaning in and speaking lowly, “If you keep going on there, I’m going to confiscate your phone.”

Seungcheol’s brows knitted at the warning.

“And what if someone tries to reach me?”

“Then I’ll give it back, but until then, you won’t have phone privileges.”

He couldn’t help but click his tongue. As annoying as the threat was, he secretly appreciated Wonwoo’s way of keeping him from doing something he might regret, like reaching out to his ex less than two weeks later rather than continuing to play it cool.

It wasn’t heartbreak, per se, just a loss of familiarity and a routine that bothered him. He was used to checking up on her at certain times, often receiving the same energy back. Plus, the lack of cuddling and deficiency of sex was about to start making him restless.

He appreciated the tough love because the rest of the men in the car showed their support by dragging him to an unruly house party that he wasn’t even sure he’d enjoy.

“Yah, is he on his phone again?”

Wonwoo replied to Seungkwan’s question from the front with, “He sure is.”

Every other occupant groaned in exasperation, Chan peering around him to scold, “Seungcheol-hyung, focus! You’re supposed to have fun with us tonight, not pine over her!”

“Just block her already!”

Seungcheol quickly snapped at Joshua’s quip, “No, because then I’ll look bitter.”

“So?”

Seungkwan turned around in the passenger seat to look directly at him, seeming to be about to give the most unhelpful advice ever.

“Hyung, you want my suggestion?”

“No.”

“Too bad. Fuck her feelings, respectfully—” He was quick to throw in that word after the elder’s face began twisting in displeasure. “—she decided to end it, and she’s out there living her best life while you’re moping around. Be selfish for once and focus on your well-being!”

Chan joined in, “Exactly! Are you going to let her distract you from having a good time with us tonight?”

The eldest wanted to fight back on instinct, but the more he stewed on his friends’ words, the more he realized they had a point. What was the use of getting in his feelings? He’d just end up being the downer of the group and waste the effort they put in to have him get dressed and come out. Even though it had been a while since he went to a party of this size, the tiniest part of him was excited. His ex was the type to avoid get-togethers like this, so he often put off the guys’ invites in favor of pleasing her.

But she wasn’t around anymore…

He sighed heavily. Hopefully, he’d be distracted enough that she wouldn’t run through his mind until he returned to his bed and deleted more of their couple pictures.

“No, I’m not.”

His response was met with a round of cheers, drowning out the hip-hop blaring from the speakers.

“That’s the spirit!”

Joshua took advantage of the red light to turn and shoot a proud smile.

“We just want you to have fun, yeah? So quit sulking.”

Seungcheol did himself no favors by narrowing his eyes and pushing his lower lip out.

“I’m not sulking.”

As expected, Joshua gave an eye roll amidst the chorus of laughter, turning back around to continue driving. Seungcheol decided to get more involved in the conversation for the rest of the trip, only glancing at his phone for notifications. Not once did he hop onto Instagram, choosing to entertain a heated debate over who would be the first casualty tonight. His money was on Seungkwan, who fought against the accusation with insistence.

Either way, he hoped his friends continued to distract him for the rest of the night like this.

The plan to distract Seungcheol was going poorly. Actually, no. Poorly was an understatement.

It was going horrendously.

Everything was fine when they stepped into the party. It was easy to get accustomed to the noise and the crowd of bodies, especially once a red cup was shoved into his hand. One of his favorite songs was even playing, his foot automatically tapping to the beat while listening to Joshua and Chan converse.

But it went horribly awry when a drunk Seokmin and Soonyoung bounded up to them, asking where his other half was.

His reaction was as instantaneous as his friends’, yet more subtle. Seungcheol tensed up and clenched his jaw, fingertips making a dent in the plastic cup. Of course, the duo was too far gone to see his sudden change in mood; they only blinked in confusion when Seungkwan began yelling at them for their goof. Just as Wonwoo started explaining why their greeting was poorly thought out, the eldest quickly excused himself, turning and making a beeline for the much less crowded kitchen.

He wasn’t sure if he needed something more substantial to drink or to remove himself from a messy situation. Either way, he ended up staring blankly into the icy assortment of beers in front of one of the many coolers.

So much for distracting himself tonight.

“Excuse me?”

A steady voice brought him out of his wallowing, looking over his shoulder to see a young woman standing behind him, pointing to the cooler.

“Mind if I get in there?”

“O-Oh. Sorry.”

Seungcheol swiftly stepped aside, feeling a bit abashed at getting in the way. You didn’t seem to mind too much though, sending a smile as you squatted down to begin rummaging through your options.

“Indecisive?”

He blinked at your query.

“Huh?”

You continued speaking while rifling through, “You were staring down here for a hot minute.”

Oh shit, was he? Damn. He must have looked like a party pooper, no doubt sulking as he tried to get himself back into a festive mood.

“Uh, yes, let’s call it that…”

A giggle escaped at the unconvincing reply. Within a few seconds, you popped back up with two different-looking bottles in each hand.

“Are you more of a fruity or bitter kind of guy?”

“Bitter.”

You held out one of the beers, waiting until he took it with a bit of confusion mixed with gratitude.

“Thank you…”

“Of course. You look like you need it.”

Seungcheol huffed, shoulders sagging a bit as he smiled pensively.

“That bad, huh?”

A nod was given, albeit paired with a sympathetic look.

“Yeah.”

He sighed at your observation, the urge to crawl away and hide in a corner until the party ended coming strong. This was another thing he wanted to avoid: the pity people would give him. In the words of Chan, he looked like a lost puppy whenever he caught him thinking about his ex. Surely, that’s what you were reminded of as you continued to gaze up at him.

“My friends dragged me here to distract me from…recent events, but I don’t think it’s working very well.”

“I can see that. I rarely see people not enjoying themselves at one of Seokmin’s parties.”

Your words might have had sincerity, but Seungcheol could only feel more insecure. He stuck out like a sore thumb; that was the last thing he wanted to happen tonight.

Just as he was about to excuse himself to wallow in misery, you asked something that caught him off-guard.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but blink rapidly, ensuring he didn’t mishear you.

A complete stranger offering an ear?

“No, I couldn’t burden you; I’m sure you came to have fun.”

But you were undeterred, shrugging nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, really. I could use some quiet time—” You grinned without an ounce of regret. “—and sometimes it’s good to have a stranger’s ear, no?”

Well…you weren’t wrong. Although Seungcheol wasn’t expecting to find a willing participant at a house party, of all places. But you seemed eager to help, and God knows his friends have probably heard enough of his lamenting by now.

A shrug of his shoulders was followed by, “If you’re offering, sure.”

Your smile stretched even wider at his approval, reaching for his free hand with your own before leading him to the sliding glass doors on the other side of the room.

“Step into my office.”

“Let me guess…a breakup?”

Straight to the point.

“Yeah.”

“How long?”

He needed to take a swig to answer this.

“Two years.”

It was no surprise to see a grimace on your face.

“Yikes. My condolences.”

Seungcheol wasn’t sure if he tried to ease you or himself with the comforting smile he gave.

“Thank you, but breakups happen all the time. I’ll be over it soon.”

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck right now. Nothing wrong with wallowing in misery.”

He scoffed lightly, “Trust me, I’ve been doing more than enough of that.”

You hummed, seeming to understand.

“So was she ‘the one’?”

Seungcheol paused in raising his beer bottle, thick brows scrunching as he took a few seconds to ponder before shaking his head.

“No, I wouldn’t say that. It was serious, but not that serious.”

You nodded, yet there was a bout of silence afterward while he stewed on how to express his feelings since the first night his former girlfriend removed her possessions from his place.

“I think it’s…like something is missing. Like I was so used to having her around and there to talk to or spend time with, it feels off.”

“You got comfortable.”

Seungcheol continued, “I did. And now she’s not here anymore.”

Saying this admission out loud pulled the deepest of sighs from his lungs.

“It’s just going to take some getting used to.”

“But you’ll be okay…one day.”

Your sincerity in tone made his head turn, and he saw you gazing at him with something akin to optimism.

“It might not be tomorrow. Might not be next week. But it’ll get easier one day and you’ll be able to think about her without feeling like you’re missing out. Trust me—“ The way your mouth quirked humorlessly on one side as you glanced through the window spoke volumes. “—I know.”

Seungcheol watched as your eyes lingered on the house, seeming to allude to a specific person. He couldn’t help but turn to see if he could figure it out. His answer was received when he spotted a handsome man with cropped black hair getting close to a giggling woman. Sure enough, the look in your eyes was close to what he had expressed lately.

No wonder you offered to hear him out.

“I’m sorry.”

His words broke your trance, turning back to blink rapidly before chuckling.

“Thank you, but it was for the best. He wasn’t exactly the most faithful.”

Seungcheol frowned. “Ouch.”

“Mhm. Well, it is what it is. Now we’re free to fool around with whoever we want, so everyone wins!”

He couldn’t hold back a small laugh at your exuberant claim.

“You have a point.”

The grin you directed at him made his own wider. He didn’t expect a stranger to ease the trouble brewing inside tonight, but your perspective on the situation was refreshing. If anything, his determination to enjoy the party to the fullest returned. You probably wanted to get back to whatever you were doing before, too…

“Thank you for offering your ear. I’m sure you want to return to the party now, right?”

Just as Seungcheol started shifting to stand up, you held up your free hand to halt him.

“I don’t mind hanging with you some more. My friends are kind of bouncing around and doing their own thing, but if you want to go to yours, I’ll let you go.”

…but did he want to go to them?

“I…Honestly, I’m not in a rush, but please don’t feel obligated to stick around.”

Your expression shifted into one of ease.

“No obligation on my end. I kind of…want to keep talking to you.”

Seungcheol’s dark eyes widened at your admission, taken off-guard. “You do?”

“Mhm. You seem cool, uh—”

Right. Neither of you had given your names.

“Seungcheol.”

You quickly clasp the hand he held out, shaking it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

Your hold lingered for a bit, fingers dragging along his own when you finally released, making the tiniest of tugs occur in his stomach. He couldn’t help but be a little excited that you wanted to keep talking to him, expecting to go your separate ways after he vented. The mutual feeling gave him a burst of emotion that needed an outlet, excusing himself to grab another beer for the both of you.

Your ex was still in the kitchen, tongue now tangled with the other woman. Seungcheol couldn’t help but scrunch his nose a little at the sight, mainly thanks to what you had told him earlier. But he fought against the urge to toss an ice cube from the cooler at his head and left with a bottle in each hand, giving one to you as soon as he returned.

“Thank you!” Once he got back in his seat, you held your drink up in the air. “To a fun night! Oh, and fuck our exes.”

Seungcheol laughed at your ad-lib, joining in by tapping his bottle against yours. The two of you moved onto much lighter topics, getting to know each other while sitting on the quiet patio. You were better acquainted with the party host than he was, mentioning how you tended to attend most of Seokmin’s get-togethers. He wondered if he had ever passed by you before or vice versa; a shame it took this long to meet.

At some point, the gap between your bodies had dwindled, knees bumping into each other as you showed off pictures of your pets. The way you cooed and had stars in your eyes as he scrolled through his endless gallery of Kkuma pics didn’t fail to warm his heart. And seeing how your chest puffed while bragging about your own fur baby only made it worse.

But then the phones went down and the mood shifted eventually.

The alcohol and good conversation led to Seungcheol noticing little things about you. Like how you rubbed your collarbones whenever you were deep in thought. Or that you kept grabbing onto his thick forearm each time you wanted to emphasize your words, eyes wide and determined for them to sink in. He didn’t mind the touch at all, but it started encroaching into dangerous territory when he began focusing on your mouth a little too hard.

He wasn’t sure if it was the shape of your lips or how the thick gloss sat on them, but looking at them reminded him of cherries. Trying to ensure he responded to your words was becoming difficult by the minute, fighting the urge to lean down and sink his teeth in. It didn’t help whenever the lusciousness parted and showed off pearly whites and hints of tongue.

“Seungcheol.”

Out of nowhere, you called his name, making him jump as he tried to act like he wasn’t hardcore staring at your lips.

“Yes?”

The cherries tilted upwards as a hand came up and gently tapped a knuckle against his exposed forehead.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Your compliment and touch only made his cheeks flare, mouth parting as he prepared to express himself in a way that wasn’t corny or desperate.

“Your lips are gorgeous.”

So much for that.

But you seemed to be pleasantly surprised at his admission, grinning wider as you tucked a hair behind your ear.

“Yeah? Thank you, but I can’t help but feel like that’s not all…”

Seungcheol swallowed hard as you challenged him, wanting to know precisely what he had running through his mind.

“I want to kiss you right now.”

Confidence was more present this time, watching your head tilted in thinly veiled curiosity.

“Oh?” A foot came up and caressed his ankle as you continued, “What’s stopping you?”

Well, he wasn’t the type to just go in for something like that without asking first, so—

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

You looked out into the backyard, humming as you pretended to be thinking deeply about your answer, even though the rubbing sensation on his leg hinted at it.

“Mm…yeah, I do—” Finally, your eyes landed on his again, a sparkle in them that wasn’t there before. “maybe I want more than that.”

Seungcheol felt a heat building inside that had been dormant for too long. This interaction was going in a completely unplanned direction, but surprisingly, he didn’t find himself against it.

“Do…do you?”

The nod you gave had zero shame and hesitation behind it.

Ah. Well. There wasn’t any room for confusion, but he had to get this out.

“I’m not looking for anything serious, I—“

But you halted him by putting your finger on his lips.

“I know. Neither am I. We’re just distracting each other—“ A simple smile. “—right?”

Thank goodness you were on the same page.

“Right.”

Pleased with that, you removed your finger before standing up, setting your empty bottle on the nearby table. You then held your hand out, waiting until Seungcheol took it and stood up, following close as you led him back inside the house. The two of you had to zigzag through the crowd, narrowly avoiding dancing bodies. Finally, the stairs were within reach, increasing his heart as you guided him. He looked back into the crowd, barely catching a glimpse of his friends before you continued to pull him out of sight.

When they realized he disappeared, there was definitely going to be some severe questioning later on.

You led him into one of the bedrooms, making sure there were no unwelcome occupants first. When Seungcheol pulled the door in behind him, you quickly spun around, directing the coyest of looks up.

“You might want to lock it; I’d hate for us to get interrupted.”

Realizing that you had a point, he swiftly turned the lock sideways, finding the act and noise a little more comforting. Being walked in on was never fun, especially when you were fooling around in a stranger’s bed.

As soon as he finished, you reached for his hands before stepping back to stand in front of the queen-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Last chance to back out.”

Seungcheol couldn’t help but knit his brows a bit as he pondered. Was he really about to fool around with a complete stranger?

This was out of character for him. Even when he was single, getting in bed with someone he had only known for a couple of hours was a thought he never entertained. But this was now and he was, to put it lightly, yearning for some physical contact that would keep him distracted for the night.

And quite frankly, he didn’t want to say no to you.

“Seungcheol?”

The light call of his name brought him out of his thoughts, looking down to see you gazing up with mild concern.

“You alright?”

He was quick to nod and smile reassuringly, replying, “Yes. Sorry, just…got in my head for a bit.”

Your expression eased up, tongue clicking as you squeezed his hands.

“Well, we can’t have any more of that. C’mon.”

You maneuvered Seungcheol around so his back was facing the bed now.

“Quit thinking about your ex and focus.”

“Believe me, I’m trying. I might need a little more help on your end.”

His voice hints at encouragement, shifting you into a more domineering mood. Your cherry lips twist into an undaunted grin as you let go of his hands.

“Of course. Even if it’s for a moment—“ All of a sudden, he felt a push to his chest and found himself falling to the bed before looking up at your salacious smile. “—I’ll make you forget all about her.”

You crawled up and on to straddle his lap, making his breath hitch at the intimate contact. With your palms planted next to his head, you shot him a wicked ruby smile before leaning down to place your lips on his own. The kiss is quick to build back up whatever arousal he had lost on the way here, helped by the way your hips started ever so slowly to grind down. You’re in a perfect position to have your clothed center on top of his concealed cock, each ounce of friction awakening it.

Moans started to fill the dim room with each second that passed. Seungcheol found himself hesitating to lay his hands on you, too used to having them on another body instead. But then his brain was quick to remind him that there was no need to hold back.

And so he rested his palms on your waist, playing it safe for now.

But you didn’t let him remain stationary for long, breaking the kiss to place your hands on top of his and whisper, “Don’t be shy.”

The encouragement was a helpful trigger, fingers roaming your body as soon as you let go. He carefully ran them up and down the curves of your waist before taking a chance and moving them to the front and upwards. A quick glance was given to your face as he went and cupped your covered breasts, biting his lip at the soft sound you made. Giving a light squeeze earned him a louder noise and a roll of your hips.

“Knew your hands would feel nice…”

Your husky whisper only spurred him on, sliding one of his hands back down and around to give your bottom the same attention.

“Did you?”

“Mhm—” A firmer grope interrupted your sentence. “—kept staring while you were holding your beer.”

Seungcheol chuckled lightly at your admission, glad he wasn’t the only one fixating on mundane body parts. You allowed him to continue feeling your body, dipping down for an occasional kiss, only to halt him eventually. When his brows furrowed in confusion, your red lips curled as you moved down to sit on his thighs.

“I have to get my hands on you ASAP.”

There was no objection on his end as he removed his hands, letting them rest to the side as you got a feel of him. The heat of your skin penetrating his shirt brought a welcome warmth to his veins. He almost forgot what it felt like to be touched by another, feeling like it had been way too long. Before the relationship ended, he had gone a few weeks without being intimate. Only now was he realizing how badly he needed this.

You ventured downwards, nudging the hem of his tee up until a sliver of stomach and his belt buckle showed. A tap above his waistband brought his eyes to yours.

“You still sure about this?”

Seungcheol blinked at you checking in, not expecting it. But it was much appreciated, even though his answer was still—

“Yeah.”

That was all you needed to continue, smirking as you started to work on loosening the belt. It didn’t take long for you to get through to undo his fly, making his heart pound hard enough to rupture his eardrums nearly. It takes a good amount of self-control for Seungcheol not to jump when your hand slips into his underwear. And it takes even more for him to stay steady when fingers wrap around his cock.

“Can barely wrap my hand around you.”

Your hushed observation made him twitch in your grasp, pulling in his lower lip when you slipped his length out. You released him to spit into your palm, replacing your hold before beginning to stroke slowly. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until it came out. Soon enough, soft grunts left his mouth.

“Are you distracted now?”

Seungcheol licked his lips and hummed, “Yes, very distracted.”

The giggle you gave preceded your mouth, leaning up to start giving him kisses again, multitasking efficiently. When you seemed to get your fill of his tongue, you parted and crawled down his body until you were face to face with his fully stiff dick. It couldn’t help but give a jerk at the devious smirk you shot him.

“May I?”

Fuck if he would say no.

“Go ahead.”

His backing spurred you into action, giving his cock a kiss at the base before using your tongue to run alongside every inch. The sigh that left Seungcheol carried so much behind it. The weight from the last few weeks and tonight escaped as you lap him up with attention that he didn’t realize he was missing until now. There was never a dull moment with your mouth, making his hips buck occasionally and quiet groans fill the room.

He managed to keep most of himself under control until you took him past your lips, forcing his fingers to dig into whoever’s comforter was underneath. The tight heat and wetness around his dick eventually made his digits come up to weave into your hair, giving you a bit of guidance. You didn’t seem to mind as a moan vibrated, sending a shiver down his spine.

Seungcheol forgot about whatever was happening outside of this bedroom for a while. He couldn't care less that there was a party going on downstairs and at least one of his friends might be looking for him. They dragged him here; the least they could do was let him have some fun of his own.

But the best part was that his ex-girlfriend didn’t pass through his mind once.

A sharp and familiar pang soon came in his groin, forcing him to choke out, “Y/N, Y/N, I’m so close—”

You looked up at his warning before pulling off with a popping sound to ask, “You wanna come in my mouth?”

The offer made his jaw drop and his cock twitch hard, swallowing down his shock in order to answer you.

“I— Up to you.”

A knowing expression washed over your face, smeared cherry lips quirking.

“Judging by your reaction, I’ll take it as a yes. Don’t worry, I don’t mind.”

You swiftly returned to your previous position, letting a hand join in stroking what was still out this time. Seungcheol didn’t even get a second to process what you said before you continued pleasuring him, jumbling his brain as he got closer and closer to the end. It didn’t take long for his entire body to tense up, swearing out loud while he spilled into your mouth. His vision was spotty as he orgasmed, only clearing up when he went limp on the bed, panting hard.

Damn.

You definitely came through on your promise of distraction.

When he was finally back on Earth, you sat up, giving him a curious look.

“Did that help?”

Seungcheol lifted his head from the bed, chuckling breathlessly at your question.

“Fuck yes.”

A giggle that contradicted what you were previously doing to him escaped, your body wiggling side to side a bit.

“Good! I hate to disappoint.”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

Your chest puffed out in triumph, looking like you were ready to receive a gold star for your hard work. At this point, you should have split up and returned to your respective groups. But Seungcheol found his instinct to return the favor rising to the surface.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?”

Forcing himself to sit up and look you in your eyes, he licked his lips before asking, “Do you…need me to help you out?”

Your eyes widened at his suggestion.

“You…how?”

He’s already come this far; he might as well lay all the chips down.

“I could eat you out.”

How your hand flew up to land over your mouth had him wonder if he overstepped his boundaries. Maybe you just wanted to give him his and get out.

“I…I mean, you don’t have to. We could just end it here…”

Hearing you trail off with uncertainty only pushed Seungcheol further. The need to have his mouth on somewhere other than your lips was blazing in his veins. He just missed pleasuring another.

With his bottom lip pushed out and his dark eyes looking up in a specific way, he made a final plea for his case.

“Just…consider it part of the distraction. Please?”

Yes, Choi Seungcheol was nearly begging to eat a stranger’s pussy.

But much to his relief, the light laugh you gave lacked mocking. No longer hiding your mouth, you smiled coyly and cooed, “Well, if you’re insisting…”

Perking up at your approval, he took hold of your jaw with both hands, giving you a long peck. He could feel you giggling during it, becoming louder when he pulled off to take a firm hold of your hips. You weren’t given a second to ask where to move before he lifted and practically manhandled you onto your back. The look you directed up at him was filled with surprise and a hazy lust.

“So strong.”

Seungcheol smirked at your dreamy tone, waiting for your legs to spread before sitting between them. He wasted little time in reaching for the hem of your dress, languidly rolling it up until he got a clear view of your panties.

And the large wet spot in the middle of it.

“Shit.”

You wiggled your hips at his gruff swear, teasing, “Don’t be so surprised.”

He raised a brow at you.

“Yeah, I’m definitely not leaving you like this.”

Whatever mischief that would paint your words evaporated when you felt his knuckles run up and down your clothed center.

“A gentleman, aren’t you?”

Seungcheol grunted after seeing the spot grow larger, “Sure, let’s call it that.”

Not wanting to keep you waiting any longer, he maneuvered down to rest his head between your thighs. Even though he wanted to go straight to business, you deserved a little build-up as well. So Seungcheol planted soft kisses on your inner thighs, trailing up until his nose nearly brushed against you. He sped things up only when a whine of impatience came from above.

Reaching up to hook a finger under the fabric, he pulled it to the side and let it rest as he saw your dripping folds for a moment. But then he was quick to lean in and get to work.

He started off light at first, using the tip of his tongue to see what tickled your fancy. Soft hums left your mouth as your lover for the night, exploring every inch of skin. Seungcheol remained content with the gentle sounds until the need to hear more came over, pushing him to apply a little more pressure to make you louder.

“Mnh—”

“Doing alright up there?”

You hummed pleasantly, “Just wonderful. Keep it up.”

Seungcheol chuckled at your reply, using your encouragement to fuel his actions. He got a little more creative with his mouth, especially when it came to your clit. Closing his lips around it and sucking gently brought a stronger reaction out of you this time. He could feel a hand come down onto the back of his head before fingers buried into his dark locks.

“Right there, baby—”

A short groan vibrated against you from that. He made sure not to let up on what you wanted, finding that he had to use one of his arms to hold down your twitching hips at one point. He was starting to think that you had a thing for muscular guys, judging by your earlier reaction from being flipped over and how you giggled breathlessly from his recent move.

He continued to indulge in the taste of you until he felt the lightest of tugs on his hair. Pulling off with a pop, Seungcheol raised a thick brow.

“You good?”

“Uh huh, but—“ Your tongue ran along your bottom red lip. “—you mind doing me a favor?”

His eyes squinted playfully. “As long as it doesn’t involve feet or anything extreme, no.”

A laugh sounded while you released his strands and tapped his forehead.

“Dork. I want your fingers in me. That too extreme for you?”

The pang that hit his stomach influenced him to shake his head no.

“Good.”

Now you patted him, laying back and relaxing as you waited for him to follow through on his promise. Seungcheol used his free hand to sneak under his chin and pressed the tip of his index finger between your folds. Once he found your entrance, a glance into your eyes was given, receiving a nod in return. He began sliding inside, biting his lip at how you seemed to suck him in. You were wet enough that there was little resistance, making an obscene sound that brought a tingle down his spine.

Starting to thrust moderately, your louder moans filled the dim room. Seungcheol had to apply more pressure with the arm on your hips, nearly being thrown off by a strong buck. He got distracted by watching how you reacted to the friction. But then he remembered how much you also enjoyed his mouth and bent down to get back to work.

You were gracious enough to let him get his fill of you, so he wanted to ensure you got your distraction as well.

“S-Seungcheol—”

He didn’t know how much time had passed before your strangled call of his name cut into the fog, releasing your pulsating bud from his wet lips to rasp, “What’s wrong?”

Your hand darted down to press his mouth back against it, whimpering, “Don’t stop, gonna come—”

You didn’t need to say anymore.

Seungcheol continued licking and sucking, just the way you liked, ignoring how his jaw and finger started cramping up. Thankfully, it didn’t take that long to feel you clamp down tight, crying out as your thighs trembled next to his head. He kept the same pace, waiting until you pushed at his head to prevent overstimulation. Once the trembling of your body died down, he slipped his digit out and sat up, giving your hip a careful rub. The touch brought your attention down from the ceiling to him, eyes hazy with bliss and wonder.

An expression that brought the cheekiest of grins to his face.

“How was that?”

You remained silent for a few seconds, seeming to figure your words out.

“She’s missing out.”

It took a moment for Seungcheol to process what you said, but he laughed once he did, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“She is, isn’t she?”

The two of you shared another laugh before he felt his back pocket vibrate. Blinking, he reached in and slipped out his phone, frowning at the message on the screen.

[Wonu]: where’d you go??? We’re leaving soon

“Friends looking for you?”

Seungcheol looked up, nodding.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re about to head out.”

A sigh left your lips, sitting up to give him a cherry-colored pout.

“Darn. I was having so much fun with you.”

His ears reddened at your complaint, grinning bashfully.

“Same.”

Tapping your foot against his thigh, you hurried back to adjust your clothing, leaving him to respond to Wonwoo’s text.

[Cheol]: my bad, hanging out with someone

[Cheol]: be down in a few minutes

When he received a thumbs up, Seungcheol followed suit, standing up to tuck himself back in and smooth out any wrinkles on his shirt. He didn’t want to be super obvious when he left the bedroom. Just as he finished, he turned to find you standing and facing him, looking up with scrutinizing eyes.

“Hey…what’s up?”

“You might wanna, uh—”

You pointed to his mouth, making him look in the nearby mirror to see what was happening. His eyes widened at the red smeared over and around his swollen lips. Clicking his tongue, he grabbed a tissue, wiped it off as best as possible and turned towards you afterward.

“Better?”

A thumbs up was given. “Much. As much as I like my lipstick on you, I don’t think you want everyone to know what you’ve been up to.”

Seungcheol’s mouth popped open. You complimented yet called him out simultaneously. A woman after his heart.

But you brought him back to Earth with a pat on his shoulder, reminding him, “Come on, don’t keep your friends waiting.”

Closing his mouth, he nodded in agreement.

“Right…thank you, Y/N, for, you know, distracting me. It helped. A lot.”

While not as red as before, your lips shone with vibrancy as they curled upwards.

“Of course, you looked like you needed it. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

“Not a problem.”

Another vibration in his pocket urged Seungcheol to hurry downstairs before getting stranded. He leaned down to kiss your cheek and made his way to the door, unlocking and opening it. Just as he stepped over the threshold, he looked back to see you watching him with an unreadable expression.

But it vanished when you caught him staring, brows knitting as you lightheartedly shooed him away.

Whatever that was was left behind as he shut the door behind him.

Seungcheol knew with every fiber of his being that his group would be in or lounging in the car, ready to leave any second. Patience was never their strong suit.

He could already spot a casualty or two as he walked across the lawn. Chan was laid across the hood of the vehicle while Seungkwan’s mouth ran off at Wonwoo, face flushed to all hell. He seemed to approach at the right time, the latter looking relieved as he pushed himself off from leaning against the door.

“There you are! We thought you walked home or something.”

Joshua’s voice could be heard calling out from inside, “Yeah man, where have you been?”

Seungcheol shrugged, hands buried into his pockets.

“I was busy.”

“Doing what?”

He looked Wonwoo dead in his eyes, trying to telepathize what he had been up to.

“Stuff.”

His close friend seemed to understand after a moment, brows lifting in surprise while his mouth twisted upwards.

“Doing stuff or someone?”

But there was little chance of keeping it between them when Seungkwan obnoxiously challenged him.

“I was just hanging out with them. You told me I needed to be distracted tonight, yeah?”

Joshua was busy setting up his GPS to tune in and Chan was fighting slumber, leaving Wonwoo and Seungkwan to make noises of wonder at the reveal.

“We did. Good job, hyung.”

Seungcheol smirked at his approval, still riding the high of the encounter.

“What? Choi Seungcheol having a one-night stand?” Seungkwan stumbled forward to rest a hand on his elder’s forehead. “You feelin’ okay? Too much to drink?”

The smile dropped and formed into a scowl as he got his hand smacked away.

“Fuck off, look who’s talking. Get your drunk ass in the car.”

A petulant whine left the younger as he turned to fumble with the door. Joshua honked the horn, sticking his head out the driver’s window to yell at Chan to move and get in. It did little to faze the youngest, mumbling something akin to ‘five more minutes.’ Seungcheol and Wonwoo worked on removing him from the hood and into the backseat to lean on a singing Seungkwan. The latter climbed in next to them, leaving the oldest to get ready to slide in the passenger seat.

“Seungcheol!”

But then a voice called out before footsteps thudded in the grass behind him.

Thick brows furrowed as he turned to gape in shock as he saw you running over. You stopped directly before him, catching your breath for a moment.

“Y/N! What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t think I’d catch you. I wanted to give you something.”

Seungcheol had no clue what this something could be. He was still trying to wrap his head around running into you again. This wasn’t how one-night stands were supposed to go…right?

But when you opened a closed fist to reveal a piece of folded paper, his brain ran ahead of itself and wondered whether this was going to go the opposite direction.

Seungcheol blinked rapidly, peeking at your face to see you giving him an expectant look. He took the paper and quickly unfolded it, jaw dropping at what was scribbled down. He couldn’t help but dart back and forth between it and you, the mischievous grin letting him know that this wasn’t a joke.

“In case you need more distraction.”

With a wink, you turned around, the skirt of your dress flipping and swishing as you walked back towards the house with a sway in your hips. He continued to gawk at your retreating form, only brought out of his reverie by the whooping of his friends and Joshua’s incessant honking. Spinning around to chew out the driver for making a commotion, Seungcheol swiftly got in, buckling himself before the group hit the road.

Of course, the ride was filled with interrogation, intermingled with Seungkwan’s singing and Dino’s freestyling. But he didn’t mind, feeling a burst of confidence every time the paper scratched the palm of his hand.

Maybe coming out to this party wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

©bangtanintotheroom, 2024. Crossposted to AO3. Do not repost to other sites or copy without permission.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋 PART 2

Part 1: Linked Here!

AO3: Linked Here :)

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋

Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out

CW: MDNI!, A18+, kissing, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon

Link to My Master List

Scenes from the afternoon hookup replay in your mind over and over as you sit in the library at a battered old desk in the history section. All you can think about is Shoto’s mouth. And his hands. And his abs!! And his sweet face.

You twiddle your pen in your hand as you try to draft out an essay for class. Unfortunately, every time you try to jot down a few thoughts your mind goes blissfully blank and you remember the tender way he spoke to you.

"How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?"

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.”

“Find me later so we can discuss this.”

You look down at your watch excitedly – 7:55 PM. You eagerly wait for Shoto to appear so the two of you can talk and – with any luck – canoodle amongst the history textbooks. You sit patiently as the time ticks by.

Soon it’s 8:30 PM. You’re not worried, though. Shoto probably assumed you’d want to get some work done first.

9:15 PM rolls around and you start to get worried. You try to distract yourself with school work as doubt creeps into your mind.

10 PM – Shoto still hasn’t showed.

“Shit shit shit.” You check your phone again and again as you wade through the endless wave of homework your teachers have assigned. You keep losing yourself in a math problem or in a passage of your History textbook, only to remember with a jolt that you were expecting to see Shoto and the bastard hasn’t showed.

At 10:30 PM you realize with a sinking feeling that it’s almost past curfew. You pack up your things and prepare to head back to the dorms. There’s a heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach that you can’t shake.

You slide your books into your bag as a anxious thoughts dance through your mind like annoying fruit flies: Does Shoto regret your mid-afternoon hookup? Is he going to pretend it never happened? Did you push him too far? Does he think you’re a slut for stripping off your shirt and basically pressing his face into your naked breasts!? The synapses of your brain jump through dozens of equally horrid and embarrassing scenarios as you march back to your dorm room, blushing furiously with humiliation.

You run through the afternoon’s events in your head for what feels like the hundredth time, trying to find a clue as to why Shoto would have left you waiting alone in the library. Your cheeks burn hotter as you recall the gentle way Shoto had kissed your neck before leaning in to capture your lips in one of his first kisses. "How am I going to get anything done now, knowing that you can kiss like this?" You shiver as you think back to how gentle he was, how each caress felt so loving and intimate.

You shake your head to clear it. Shoto must have a valid excuse for not meeting you in the library as he had promised – no boy could kiss someone that intimately and then instantly cast her aside, right?

Before long, you’re walking through the doors of Class 1A’s dorm building. You shiver with discomfort as you recall how earlier that day you essentially scaled the side of a building for a boy. Does Shoto think you’re an absolute fool with the extremes you went to for a quick make out session? You hope not.

You walk up the stairs and past the common area. You see most of Class 1A studying quietly. Sero, Izuku, Kirishima and Ida sit around one of the kitchen tables reviewing their math homework while some of the girls compare English notes on the couch. To your relief, Shoto isn’t there. Mina waves to you enthusiastically, beckoning you to join her and YaMomo as they review the finer points of Hamlet. You politely decline and make a beeline for your room. You turn the key in the lock and it clicks – within moments, you are blessedly alone.

You toss your heavy book bag to the ground and prepare to wallow in self-pity. It’s 10:56pm and Shoto still hasn’t reached out to you. Your phone is vacant of text messages and your brain is absolutely fried from schoolwork.

You dim your room lights and switch on the favorite fairy lights for some peaceful ambiance. Time for some self-care, bitch! You think resolutely as you swap your uniform for your favorite pair of pajamas. You toss your phone to the floor with abandon and climb into your comfy bed. You breathe in deeply, allowing yourself to revel in the coziness of the dorm room.

You take out your five-minute bullet journal and write a quick list of things you're grateful for: 1. The opportunity to study at UA 2. Your lovely and encouraging friends and classmates 3. Your cozy room and the roof over your head 4. Shoto’s mouth 5. Shoto’s abs 6. Shoto’s goddamn hard AF dick

Um. No.

You snap the journal shut before you get too derailed.

You pull your comforter over your head and sit in silence for a moment. You’ve never been the kind of person to go completely boy-crazy. You always used to make fun of those girls who would go gaga over pretty boys and their texts and their kisses. But as you recall the searing way that Shoto kissed your lips earlier that day, you suddenly understand what all the boy-crazed girly hype was all about. Oh my god. You have a crush. A big sloppy embarrassing crush.

In the silence of your room, you suddenly here a buzzing noise coming from the general direction of your book bag. You struggle to disentangle yourself from your sheets and your journal goes flying. You ignore its crash landing as you slip from your bed and collect your phone from where it lays abandoned on the carpeted floor.

It’s Shoto.

Your heart skips.

Todoroki: Y/N. Are you awake?

You bite your lip, unsure how to respond. Did Shoto just send you his version of “U up?”

Y/N: Yes, I’m still up.

Todoroki: I know it’s late, but can I stop by?

You tense. Oh God – he’s going to come by to tell you that he’s not interested. He’s going to thank you for your time making out and say that you probably should avoid hooking up in the future because it’s a huge distraction. You’re sure that whatever he has to say is going to be negative and leave you feeling embarrassed. Why else would he have skipped out on your rendezvous in the library?

You take a deep breath. You have always been fairly practical with a mind for strategy, two qualities that had really set you apart when you had taken the UA entrance exams. You know that the best course of action here is to rip off the Band-Aid sooner rather than later. Better to know how he feels about your hookup now

Your heart sinks as you type out:

Y/N: Sure, I’ll leave the door unlocked for you. Just come in. Try not to be seen by anyone.

Todoroki: Of course. See you shortly.

Your heart beats double time as you look down at yourself. Your pajama set consists of a silky blue top with matching shorts that don’t leave much to the imagination. You chew on your thumb nervously – should you change into something more appropriate? No – Shoto has seen your boobs. A little bit of leg is not going to kill the half hot half cold hero in training.

You quickly remake your bed and kick your book bag beneath your desk so that the floor is clear. You plop down on your smooth comforter and wait, knotting your hands together as you anticipate Shoto’s arrival.

A few anxious minutes pass, and then you hear gentle footsteps pad down the hallway outside your door. The knob turns quietly, and in a moment Shoto Todoroki steps across your threshold, quietly closing the door behind him. He reaches down to turn the lock with a gentle snap of his wrist.

You take him in – he’s wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a soft white t-shirt. You’ve never seen him dressed so casually before and you assume that these are what he wears as pajamas in the privacy of his own dorm room. His hair is tousled and damp from a recent shower, and the burned side of his face shines where he’s clearly applied some kind of scar cream or moisturizer. His outfit projects a comfy air, but his expression is dark and stormy. Your heartbeat quickens in fear – what could possibly have caused him to be in such a tempestuous mood? Was this about your kissing?

You bite at your lip with worry. But when your eyes lock, his expression softens. In two quick strides, he’s at the bed. He leans in close so that your noses almost touch.

“Hi.” He says softly, before dipping his mouth to meet yours. You blink in surprise as your mouths melt together. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the kiss. Pleasure radiates up and down your spine as you kiss him back. He places both his palms on your hips and pulls you closer, letting out a small moan of satisfaction as he slides his tongue into your mouth. How silly you feel for thinking he didn’t want you like this!

After a few moments, you break apart.

“Hey there.” You whisper, bringing your hands up to cup his beautiful jaw. He leans in to kiss you again and you hold him in place. He stops and looks down at you inquisitively.

“I waited for you in the library, you didn’t show.” You say slowly, softly.

“My father decided to take me through some drills in one of the school’s gyms. I only finished a half hour ago.” His expression becomes dull as he speaks. “I’m sorry to leave you waiting. I wanted to see you - but I’m not allowed on my phone during training.”

Relief must have flooded your features, because he tilts his head to the side questioningly. You hold back a giggle – the way his head is tilted makes him look like a sweet dog asking its owner for a treat.

“What’s wrong?”

You sigh and pull yourself further onto the bed, patting the spot next to you as an invitation. Shoto climbs up next to you, sinking into the deliciously soft fabric. His eyes widen slightly in surprise.

“This is so comfortable.” He says, pressing his palm into the plush fabric beneath him. You recall his sparse traditional bedroom and realize that he’s never laid on a proper puffy mattress before.

“Hold on – it gets better.” You say pushing him off the bed so you can pull down the covers. You slip beneath the comforter and gesture for him to rejoin you. He climbs in clumsily, unsure how to position himself within the sheets. You prop a pillow beneath his shoulders as he lays down on his side. You toss the comforter over the two of you and lay across from him, feet almost touching beneath the warm layers of bedding.

“Cozy?” You ask as Shoto settles into the bed.

“Yeah.” He says in quiet voice, propping himself up on an elbow. “I always thought beds like this were excessive but��maybe there’s some merit to this.” He eyes a blue Squirtle plush that sits next to you in the bed. “Can I…hold that?”

You grin, biting back a laugh as you reach over to grab the Pokémon plush. “This is Squirtle – he’s one of my favorite plushies.” You hold up the stuffed animal and wiggle it in front of Shoto’s eyes as if it’s dancing. “Squirtle, Squirtle” you say in a low tone, trying to emulate the television character’s voice the best you can.

Shoto gives you a weird look. “I don’t get it. Why are you just repeating its name in a strange voice?”

“Shoto…have you…have never seen Pokémon!?” You almost screech in disbelief, before throwing a hand over your mouth to quiet yourself. You quickly remember that you are in the dorms and the walls aren’t super thick.

“No, I wasn’t allowed to watch television unless it was about Pro hero work.” Shoto says, a tinge of sadness flowing along with his words. “But it looks cute and round and I really just want to hold it and squish it?”

“Yeah, that’s the general reaction to plushies. Dude, we need to get you that whale pillow you liked on Pinterest. You need more cuteness in your life.”

“Well I have you, don’t I?” Shoto smiles softly. “You bring more than enough cute into my life.” He reaches out and grabs the plush from your hands and squishes it a bit. “But this is pretty nice, too.”

Your face grows hot at the compliment. Shoto tucks the Squirtle under his arm and shifts around in the sheets until he finds a comfortable position. He looks adorable and soft as he cradles the bright plush in his strong, muscular hands.

When he finally settles in, he looks up at you enquiringly. “What’s wrong?” He repeats, looping you both back to the conversation form earlier.

“So…” You sigh with embarrassment. “When you didn’t show up and I didn’t hear from you…” You pause and Shoto gives Squirtle a squeeze. “I thought you didn’t want to see me again. Or at least that you didn’t want to make out with me again.”

“Oh.” Shoto wasn’t expecting this. “I thought I made it very clear how…enthusiastically…I enjoyed our time together this afternoon. I didn’t realize I had left any room for you to question my attraction to you.”

“That’s nice to hear…but when you didn’t show at the library or send a text, I assumed the worst. My mind kind of went into full-blown panic mode. I thought maybe once you had time to reflect on our hookup, that you realized you didn’t like it or that you didn’t really like me. To be perfectly honest, I’ve never felt that way before. Usually something like this wouldn’t bother me.” You take a deep, steadying breath. “But I think I really like you and want to be close to you, and the thought that you might not feel the same was tearing me apart for the last couple of hours.”

The words come tumbling from your mouth before you can stop and think them through. Why are you saying all of this!? Why does being around Shoto make you feel so comfortable and open to sharing? It’s so weird – and you’re absolutely sure he’s going to think you’re some kind of over sharing freak for telling him all of this.

Shoto looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment before speaking. “Something I have always admired about you is your ability to be straightforward about what you’re thinking and feeling. Most people aren’t like that, and I have a hard time navigating more subtle situations. Thank you for telling me exactly what you’re thinking – I value it so much.” He runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, moving the bangs out of his bright eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I had abandoned you. I wanted to come to the library so badly. I want to kiss you so badly – it’s all I’ve been thinking about tonight.” His voice is so earnest that you believe him.

“Let me match your honesty with some of my own - my father is extremely strict. Ever since I was born, he’s pushed me to be better. To be stronger. He wants me to surpass him. He wants me to take All Might’s place as the number one hero.”

You gasp at this. Of course you knew that Todoroki was ambitious, but this…

“I don’t have any intentions of becoming harsh and cruel like my father. I’m not even sure if I want to go for the top spot on the hero charts.” He admits, almost bitterly. “That’s the path that my father has laid out for me. He’s obsessed with my training. With my ‘potential.’ But he doesn’t seem to give a fuck about how I feel. Excuse my language.” Shoto looks so sad, so despairing. He hugs the plush close, his chin tucked into his chest as he continues.

“I just want to help people and make them smile – just like All Might. But my old man just doesn’t seem to get that. Today, when he noticed how distracted I was… he didn’t ask if something was wrong. He just pushed me even harder.” Shoto avoids your gaze. “I think he purposefully pushed me to train into the night to keep me from meeting up with you. In his eyes…you’re a huge distraction for his prized creation.”

Suddenly you notice how exhausted Shoto looks – there are pale bags beneath his eyes. You scan his body and see light bruises beginning to form on the exposed skin of his arms. You wonder - just what kind of training has Endeavor been subjecting him to?

You had never guessed that behind Shoto’s calm and collected exterior, there is just a normal teenage boy trying desperately to please his father, while simultaneously trying to defy him. The whole relationship seems complicated and messy and you’re sure what Shoto is telling you is only the tip of a chaotic Todoroki family dynamic iceberg.

“Oh, Shoto.” You say softly. You scoot forward and wrap your arms around him. He freezes, unsure of what to do but nevertheless comforted by the sudden closeness. You reach behind him and card your fingers through his hair. You see goose bumps emerge across his skin, and realize that he likely hasn’t been touched this way before.

“Is it okay to touch you like this?” You whisper.

He breathes out a shaky “yes” as he moves to toss the Squirtle plush to the floor. Once his arms are free, he works to wrap them around you. He rests one strong hand on your back and slings the other around your delicate waist. He draws you close to him and holds you tightly as you continue to run your fingers softly through his two-toned hair.

He’s silent as he buries his head into your shoulder. There’s an emotion that’s radiating off of his body that you can’t quite place – sadness? Frustration? Maybe even relief? After a few moments of running your fingers through his hair and gently up and down his back, he finally starts to relax. The tense muscles in his shoulders loosen, and he seems to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry Y/N.” He whispers, muffled as he turns his face into the crook of your neck. “I’m not great at expressing my emotions. I can try to put it into words…I’m feeling so weighed down right now.”

“Because of your father’s expectations?” You prompt, running a light fingertip down his spine. He shivers a bit in response, but not in an unpleasant way.

“Sometimes I wonder if he sees me as a real person, as a son. Or am I just his big project?” Shoto wonders aloud, his voice a bit strained. You feel his eyelashes flutter against the sensitive skin beneath your jawline.

“Shoto...that sounds like a lot to carry. You’re just a high school student – your father shouldn’t be putting that kind of pressure on you. It’s not normal.” You tuck a lock of red hair behind his porcelain ear. “This situation sounds so complicated. It’s no wonder you feel so conflicted. I’m here any time you need a friendly ear to listen as you work through it.” You continue to caress him softly over his clothes. He begins to lean into your touch hungrily. “But right now – at this moment – you’re safe. In this room, in my arms, you don’t need to hold other people’s expectations of you in your heart. When you’re with me, I want you to feel that you can just be Shoto.”

You still your fingers as you let your words sink in. Shoto is radiating a deep sort of sadness that you wish you could smooth away with your fingertips.

“Thank you.” He says, his voice breaking a tiny bit as he processes your words. After a few beats Shoto exhales deeply, his breath ruffles your hair. “I’m not used to talking about these things. Actually, I’m not really used to talking much at all. Or being touched.” You can feel the blush on his delicate cheeks warm the skin of your neck.

“I can tell.” You say before you can stop yourself. To your surprise, he chuckles.

“I don’t know why it’s so easy to do these things with you – talking, touching…kissing.” He lifts his head off of your shoulder to look you square in the face. “There’s something about you…”

Suddenly, the room feels as if it’s charged with Denki’s electrification quirk as his bright mismatched eyes meet your own.

“I think I’d like to continue exploring this with you.” He says matter-of-factly, moving his legs to intertwine with yours.

“W-what does that mean?” Your breath catches in your throat as he dips forward to kiss down your neck.

“It means…I want to keep doing this. Kissing. Talking. I suppose I want to keep getting to know you like this? Intimately.” He places a soft kiss in the hollow behind your earlobe. “Would you like that as well?”

“Yes.” You breathe, with zero hesitation. He smiles into your neck before running the edges of his teeth lightly across your smooth skin. You let out a soft moan in response.

“Good. Then we’ll figure this out together.” He moves to kiss your cheek soundly before releasing you from his embrace. “But right now it’s well past midnight, and we both need our sleep if we’re going to continue to be top of our class alongside YaMomo and Ida. If we both let our grades slip, it might tip people off.” He moves to get off the bed.

“Hey – wait!” You grab his arm and pull him back under the covers. “I have no problem with you staying here for the night.”

“But wouldn’t that be inappropriate?” Shoto’s face reddens, but he lets himself be drawn back into your gentle embrace.

“Would it be anymore inappropriate than you making out with my tits?” Shoto’s face burns an even brighter red at this question, but he also looks quite pleased with himself (you assume he’s recalling the way he kissed down your breasts earlier that day as he smirks). “Sharing a bed should be perfectly responsible as long as we keep all of our clothes on. You said you want to explore? Well get over here and let’s figure out if you make a good big spoon.”

This earns one of those rare full smiles from Shoto – he practically glows. “Alright.”

He pulls himself close to you. You reach above your head and switch off the string lights that wind their way around your room, and the tiny dorm fills with darkness.

You turn to face the wall and scoot your body back until you feel Shoto’s solid warmth. He reaches around to pull you close until bodies are touching, flush together. You tuck yourself into Shoto’s warm, muscular body and sigh with contentment.

“So do I make a good big spoon?” He questions, tentatively nuzzling his face into your hair and inhaling deeply. “Mmm, your hair smells like lavender.”

“We’ll need plenty of practice to truly ascertain the full range of your spooning abilities.” You say in a faux-academic voice, causing him to snort out a laugh. “But so far you’re doing great.”

You interlock your legs and pull his strong arms around you. You wiggle a bit as you try to find the comfiest spot in the mattress. You unintentionally grind a bit against Shoto and jolt when you feel something hard pressed against the curve of your ass.

“Sorry.” He mutters softly, embarrassed.

“Maybe I’ll take care of that for you tomorrow.” You yawn as you close your eyes and settle in for a good night’s rest. You grin into the darkness as you feel Shoto’s dick get even harder as he mulls over your response, wondering at what you could possibly mean by “take care of that.”

You didn’t realize you were so tired. You’re dimly aware of Shoto’s breathing growing slow as he drifts off into a comfortable sleep. You smile softly to yourself as you slide further into his embrace. This poor, touch-starved boy has been through so many terrible things and your heart aches for him.

Even in sleep he’s tense, his jawline stiff and his muscles almost locked around you. But he’s warm and soft and smells like jasmine and mint tea. You hope that for the next few hours you can provide him with a safe harbor to rest and escape his troubles. You let your eyes flutter close and breathe in deeply, dreaming of Shoto’s sweet face as you fall gently into sleep’s embrace.

-------------------------------

Part 3

🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥

[parkerslatte]

Mutual Love

Eris Vanserra x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: alcohol consumption. mentions of beron's torture. scars.

Summary: After spending time with some friends, Y/N returns home to find Eris amongst a few of his trusted advisors. Though he is acting a little different then usual.

Prompt(s) Used: 14.They are drunk and they keep mumbling I love yous and how much they want to kiss you.

A Court of Thorns and Roses Masterlist

•••

When Y/N decided to visit some of her friends in the nearest village, she never thought she would return to the Autumn High Lord in the midst of a drunken ramble amongst his two most trusted advisors, really Eris’s only friends in the court– other than Y/N of course. 

As Y/N stepped into the room with an amused expression, she noticed the small smiles spread across the advisors faces. Eris's back was facing her as he talked, hands flying everywhere. Y/N smiled softly at the sight. 

“And you should have seen Y/N, she looked absolutely–”

Eris’s words were cut off by one of his advisors, Ansel, clearing his throat and gesturing to Y/N. Eris turned around and a lopsided grin appeared on his face. 

“Y/N!” he exclaimed happily. “Come and join us!”

Y/N dropped her small bag onto the floor by the door and walked over to Eris and the others. As she neared closer she noticed the nearly empty bottle of drink on the table. 

“We’ve had about a glass each of that,” Ansel said. “Eris has had the rest.”

Eris scoffed. “You have had more than that. Come and sit down, Y/N.”

“There isn’t another seat, Eris,” Y/N pointed out. 

Eris uncrossed his leg and gestured to his lap. “There is right here.”

Y/N flushed and looked away from Eris quickly. Ansel stifled a laugh. 

“I’m fine here Eris,” Y/N mumbled. 

Y/N shuffled her feet and winced as she did so. The heels she wore were a good idea earlier but after standing up nearly all night and walking back to the Forest House, Y/N was beginning to regret her decision. 

“I can get another chair–” Yvette, Eris’s other advisor offered. 

“It’s okay,” Y/N said and perched herself on the arm of Eris’s chair. “I’ll be okay here.”

As she turned to look at Eris, he was frowning. “You’re hurting.”

Y/N let out a quiet chuckle. “If you wore heels all night, your feet would be hurting too.”

Eris still continued to frown as Y/N reached forward and picked up his glass and took a sip from it. As she settled on the arm of the chair, Y/N felt an arm snake around her back until Eris had his arm securely around her, his hand resting upon her upper thigh. Y/N became flustered just at the sight. 

As she looked up Ansel and Yvette both hid their grins as they each took a sip from their glasses. Y/N only glared at them. 

“So what were you all talking about before I interrupted?” Y/N asked, trying to ignore the warmth of Eris’s hand. “I believe I heard a mention of my name.”

Eris lit up. “I was talking about how beautiful you looked at my coronation last month.” 

“You thought I looked beautiful?” Y/N questioned. 

“He always thinks you are beautiful,” Yvette chimed in.

Heat swarmed to Y/N’s face as she felt Eris’s hand grip tighter onto her thigh. “Is that true Eris?” she asked. 

Eris scoffed. “Of course I do! That dress you wore was exquisite. It only exemplified your beauty, my love,” He took his glass of alcohol from Y/N’s hand. “No one holds a candle to you.”

“Not even me?” Yvette teased. 

Eris’s lip curled. “Yvette, as much as I value our friendship and I like your company, please don’t ever say something like that again.”

Yvette only cackled and downed the rest of her drink. “I was only teasing, Eris. I know that I would never stand a chance when Y/N’s around.”

Y/N frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yvette’s eyes held an amused glint as she looked between Eris and Y/N. “Y/N, my love, if you are this oblivious, I don’t see what I can say to help.”

Eris shushed Yvette. “Stop telling Y/N my secrets.”

Yvette chuckled before standing from her chair. “They are far from secrets, Eris. I’m heading to bed and from the looks of it, you should take Eris before you get a headache in the morning. I don’t want to deal with your fathers old advisors so early in the morning.”

Eris rolled his eyes. “Goodnight Yvette.”

Y/N waved goodbye to Yvette and she only sent a small wink Y/N’s way before slipping out of the room. 

“I’ll head to bed too, I think,” Ansel said, also standing from his seat. “It seems like I am out of drink.”

Eris didn’t seem to hear as Ansel’s chair scraped back on the floor. He was too busy filling up his glass to do anything else. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Ansel,” Y/N said. 

Ansel bid a quick goodbye before slipping out of the room leaving Y/N and Eris alone. As soon as Eris placed the bottle down on the table, Y/N began to stand up from the arm of the chair. 

“Where are you going?” Eris asked, his hand gently gripping onto her. 

“Well there’s two free chairs now,” Y/N commented. 

For a very brief moment, Eris seemed to pout but it quickly faded away. Y/N only smiled. 

“Stay here,” Eris said. “I want to be close to you. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“You saw me this morning,” Y/N replied. 

“That is too long,” Eris said, and offered Y/N his glass. “I wish to be by your side all the time.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say, words failed on her tongue. She hadn’t a clue what Eris meant by his words. The underlying romantic tone in them was mostly just wishful thinking on Y/N’s part. But if there was a possibility that they were true…

Y/N took a sip from Eris’s drink and handed it back to him. Eris took a long sip for himself. Y/N knew she should stop him from drinking any more. She was sure that if he got even more intoxicated, he would not remember anything in the morning. 

“I have a meeting with my father’s old advisors tomorrow,” Eris said. “Most of them want their old positions back.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure what to say. Despite being Eris’s friend, she was never involved in the politics of the court. She was only a seamstress after all. 

“I don’t want to give their positions back, they were the most despicable males I have ever met,” Eris continues. “I know that I will have Ansel and Yvette there but can you be there too? I don’t know if I can dismiss that many people without you.”

“Eris, you know that I don’t have a clue how court politics work outside of basic knowledge,” Y/N replied.

Eris clutched onto her hands tighter, seemingly afraid that she would walk away. Y/N had no intention to. “Please Y/N. All you need to do is sit there for me. I always feel better when you are around.”

“You’re only asking me because you are drunk,” Y/N said. “If you were sober you wouldn’t be asking.”

Eris frowned. “No, not at all!”

The arms wrapped around Y/N’s waist tightened and Eris pulled her closer until she was situated on his lap instead of the arm of the chair. Y/N let out a small gasp of surprise and clutched onto Eris. His arms circled her waist until she was securely seated in his lap, feeling warmer than she did a few moments ago. Though Y/N wasn’t sure if it was because of Eris himself or the rising heat spreading throughout her body. 

Eris had never been too physical with her. Occasionally he would hold her hand or give her a long comforting hug, but nothing ever went beyond that. This was entirely new territory. Y/N felt herself relaxing. 

“See,” Eris said, resting his chin on her shoulder. “I told you it was more comfortable.”

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the cheek of his tone. It felt nice to see him so relaxed. “I guess it is.”

Eris smiled and pressed a soft kiss to her bare shoulder. Y/N stilled. 

“What was that for?” she asked. 

Eris only did it again. “Just because I love you.”

Shock was evident on Y/N’s face as the words left Eris’s mouth. 

“What did you just say?” Y/N asked, wanting confirmation. 

“I said I love you,” Eris said, clinging to her tighter, burying his head into her neck. “I love you, Y/N.”

“You can’t mean that,” Y/N said. 

Eris didn’t reply. All he did was press small soft kisses against her neck. Y/N’s body felt as if it were on fire. And by now she knew that it wasn’t Eris. 

“Eris,” Y/N said, pulling away from him the smallest amount. “You are drunk. You don’t know what you are saying.” 

“I know perfectly well what I am saying,” Eris replied. “I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will.”

“Are you being serious, Eris?” Y/N questioned, still not believing his words. 

“Deadly,” Eris replied and took a sip from his drink. 

The room was quiet and Y/N was worried that Eris was able to hear how fast her heart was beating. In his intoxicated state, Y/N hoped he didn’t. The two remained silent as Eris finished off the rest of his drink, his hand laying on Y/N’s thigh the whole time. Everytime Y/N moved, Eris’s grip only became tighter. 

Just as Eris went to reach for the bottle once more, Y/N stopped him. “Perhaps you have had enough for tonight.”

Eris looked at the bottle thoughtfully before pouring out a very small amount of drink. He downed it in one gulp. 

“For confidence,” he said, his words becoming increasingly slurred. 

Y/N didn’t get a chance to respond as Eris’s lips crashed onto hers. It caught Y/N off guard as she fell back slightly, though Eris held her up. Their teeth clashed and it was not like anything Y/N imagined a kiss with Eris like. Partly because when she imagined it, Eris preferably wasn’t intoxicated and was in complete control of his body. 

After her shock fell away, Y/N gently pushed Eris away. His lips only chased after hers as she did so. 

“Eris,” Y/N said softly. “Stop.”

The amber of Eris’s eyes met Y/N’s and she hated the look within them. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “That was stupid of me.”

“No,” Y/N said, gently cupping his face. “No it wasn’t. But perhaps we can talk about it tomorrow when all of your senses are intact.”

Y/N slipped from Eris’s lap and she instantly felt cold. She took her heels off of her feet and allowed her feet to rest on the cold floor. Eris remained in his seat, looking down at his hands. He twisted a ring around his middle finger. The ring Y/N had bought for him for his five hundredth birthday nearly forty years ago. He had never taken it off. 

“Well,” Y/N said, holding out her hand to him. “Are you coming?”

Eris looked up at Y/N, his eyes lightly glistened with unshed tears and Y/N’s heart broke. “Where are we going?”

“Bed,” Y/N said. “You need to sleep before the meeting tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Eris said and shakily clambered to his feet. 

As he stood up, he lightly swayed on his feet and Y/N quickly reached out to steady him. The moment her arms held onto his biceps, Eris reached out and pulled her body to his, enveloping her in a hug. Y/N hugged him back, her fingers threading through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N,” Eris confessed. “I can’t keep it a secret anymore.”

“Eris,” Y/N whispered. “We can talk about this in the morning when you actually realise what you are saying.”

“I know what I am saying,” Eris said. “I just wished that I could have told you when I was sober.”

“You can tell me in the morning, Eris,” Y/N replied, pulling away from the hug. 

“I’m afraid I won’t have the confidence in the morning,” Eris admitted. 

Y/N caressed his face. “If your words are genuine I believe that there will be nothing to worry about. Now come on, before you fall over and drag both of us down.”

Y/N carefully and slowly helped Eris to his room. The doors were a struggle to open but as she did so, she was shocked at what she saw. It had been at least six months since Eris had become High Lord of Autumn and the most unexpected thing was how bare his room was. It was as if no one lived inside.

As Y/N helped Eris through the threshold of the room, Eris seemed to shrink into himself. “Can I sleep at your house tonight?”

“Eris, that is at least a two hour walk from here,” Y/N said. 

“I can winnow,” he replied.

“And possibly take us thousands of miles away in the state you are right now,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “Okay, fine.” he let go of Y/N and began to stumble his way to the bed. The sheets were pristine, as if Eris hadn’t slept in them in ages. 

“Y/N,” Eris called out as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Can you stay with me? I don’t want to be alone in here.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. “Of course.”

Only a small smile appeared on Eris’s face before he began to dress down to his sleepwear. Which consisted of only his underwear. As she turned back around, she gasped at what she saw. 

Scars. Many of them. Large ones across his back that shone silver in the moonlight. Smaller ones littered his torso and chest, but none were as bad as the ones across his back. 

“Eris, what happened, my love?” Y/N asked, walking over to him. 

“My father is what happened,” Eris said. “Any act of disobedience and the scars are what I received. My mother had a healer who would always help me after any of my fathers beatings. The scars that remain were the worst of them. I received them just there.” Eris pointed over to the fireplace and the seating area surrounding it. “That is why I try to avoid sleeping here as much as possible.”

“If I knew that I wouldn’t have brought you here,” Y/N said, shifting on the bed. 

“It’s okay,” said Eris, looking at her for the first time since entering the room. “It feels better to be here now that you are here too.”

“Are you sure you want to sleep here tonight?” Y/N said. “I am sure that there are other rooms we can sleep in.”

“None of them have any bedding since I dismissed most of the staff my father hired,” Eris explained. “I will be fine here, with you.”

Y/N offered him a small smile. “If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Eris replied. 

Y/N nodded and took one of Eris' shirts to sleep in as he got comfortable on the bed. She watched him constantly move to find a comfortable position but it seemed as if he couldn’t. 

Once she slipped into one of Eris’s shirts, she moved over to the bed, slipping beneath the covers. Y/N could tell that they were brand new and had never been slept in. Y/N moved so she was laying behind Eris. The scars on his back were even worse up close and Y/N wished that she could rewind time to make Beron pay even more than he already did. Y/N wasn’t a particularly violent person but what she would do to Beron if she somehow found a way to time travel, she was sure it would even make the shadowsinger of the Night Court deathly afraid. 

Y/N shuffled closer to Eris and carefully wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing herself against his back. 

“What are you doing?” Eris asked. 

“What I should have been doing every single night since you became High Lord,” Y/N answered. 

She pressed soft and gentle kisses against the scar that ran across his upper back and she felt Eris sigh in contentment. 

“I am lucky to have you in my life,” Eris mumbled. 

“No, I’m lucky to have you,” Y/N said, holding onto him tighter. 

Eris threaded his fingers with hers and relaxed in her hold. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too,” Y/N said. “Now try to get some sleep.”

“You’ll be here in the morning?” Eris asked.

“Eris, I am never leaving you again,” Y/N replied. 

Eris didn’t respond as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. Y/N made sure that he was fully asleep before drifting off herself, holding Eris within her arms. 

***

When Y/N awoke the next morning, she immediately knew where she was. Within the night, Y/N and Eris had switched positions and now she was wrapped within Eris’s arms. Y/N laced her fingers with his. 

“I was wondering when you would wake up,” Eris muttered against the top of her head. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

“You could have woken me,” Y/N said and shuffled around to face Eris. “I wouldn’t have minded. How is your head?”

“Surprisingly I haven’t woken up with as bad of a headache as everyone was expecting,” Eris said before some of the light left his eyes. “Y/N, I just wanted to say that I am sorry for last night. I shouldn’t have said all of those things. You must have been uncomfortable–”

“Eris, I am going to cut you off there,” Y/N said. “In no way, shape or form did you make me uncomfortable last night.”

“But I made you sit on my lap, I made you sleep in bed with me, I confessed– I confessed my feelings,” Eris said, avoiding eye contact.

“You also kissed me,” Y/N said.

Eris’s eyes widened. “I did? Gods, Y/N I am so sorry.”

“Eris,” Y/N said, caressing his cheek and forcing him to look at her. His beautiful amber eyes were full of regret. Y/N wanted to change that. “Do you remember exactly what happened last night?”

“Not all of it–”

“Not all of it, so do you remember what happened just before we fell asleep?” Y/N asked.

“No, I just remember falling asleep after you climbed into bed,” Eris answered.

“Well before we fell asleep, you said that you loved me,” Y/N said. 

Eris sighed. “If this is just a way to tell me that you don’t feel the same–”

“Eris you seriously don’t remember what I replied,” Y/N said, fighting the smile threatening to appear on her face. 

Eris shook his head.

“I told you that I loved you too,” Y/N confessed. 

“You did?” Eris asked, a small smile toying at the corner of his lips.

“I did,” Y/N said. “And I do mean it, Eris. I do love you. I am in love with you.”

Eris pulled Y/N’s body closer. “I am so glad to hear you say that.”

“I am so glad to finally say it out loud,” Y/N said. “I have loved you for a long time, Eris.”

“I have loved you even longer,” Eris said. “Possibly the moment I laid eyes on you.”

Y/N smiled. “Kiss me, Eris. And let us pretend that this was the first time.”

A tinge of red appeared on Eris’s cheeks. “Gladly.”

This time, the kiss was sweet and gentle as Eris seemed to pour all of his emotions into it. This was more what Y/N imagined what kissing Eris would feel like. Y/N could feel Eris smile into the kiss. 

“That felt like more of what I imagined,” Y/N mumbled against his lips.

“So you’ve imagined kissing me?” Eris questioned as he cupped her jaw. 

Y/N sheepishly glanced down for a brief moment and it was confirmation of her answer. 

“Well, it is only fair that I have fantasised about kissing you as well,” Eris muttered. 

“We still have a couple of hours until your meeting,” Y/N said. “We can stay here for as long as you like.”

Eris smiled. “I wish I didn’t need to go to the meeting so I could stay here for eternity with you.”

“Your meeting is for an hour, I’m sure you can survive that,” Y/N replied. 

Eris chuckled. “I am sure you are overestimating my restraint around you, Y/N. You have no idea how hard it has been keeping my feelings for you a secret. First it was because I didn’t want my father to know how much you meant to me. I never wanted him in the vicinity of you. And secondly, I just thought you would never return my feelings. You always mentioned never wanting to date or find a relationship.”

Y/N pecked his lips. “You can be so stupid sometimes, Eris. The reason why I didn’t date or find a relationship was because I was in love with you.”

Eris scoffed. “So you mean to tell me that I have been torturing myself ever since I became High Lord when we could have been sleeping together like this the whole time?”

“I’m afraid so, darling,” Y/N said, kissing the tip of his nose. 

Eris scrunched up his nose and chuckled. “Well now we have all the time in the world.”

Y/N smiled, her heart skipping a beat. “Yes we do.”

“How do you feel about moving in here? I’d like to finally feel comfortable in this room and I think a large redecoration is in order. Perhaps building a balcony to allow light inside. My father did always deteste natural light. We can decorate it so it feels homely, and not a torture chamber. A large ‘fuck you’ to my father,” Eris aid. 

“I would want nothing more,” Y/N said. 

“Perfect,” Eris said. “If we start after the meeting, we can get all of your things moved in by nightfall. And–”

“Eris,” Y/N said, cutting him off with a light chuckle. “Please shut up and kiss me again.”

Eris smiled. It was the most genuine and loving smile she had ever seen grace his beautiful features. “It would be my pleasure.”

Eris kissed Y/N once more and she felt herself falling in love with him all over again.

[shiinata-library]

Imagine them telling you they love you

Thorin, Fíli, Kíli, Bilbo's reactions when they tell they love you

A/N: My imagines become more and more ficlets and we now have 4k words of it… Make you comfortable, and enjoy!

[ 📚 Main Imagines Masterlist 📚 ]

Fíli

On a cold winter evening under the lonely mountain, two princes are talking over an ale, one of them in a better mood than the other. “I should never have done that,” you hear Fíli sighs, his face hidden in his arms crossed on a table. “It’s too late, brother,” Kíli laughs as he drinks his ale.

It has been a while since you’re friends in this pub. There is only one pub since the rebuilding of Erebor was still ongoing. The place is busy, and princes or not, Kíli and Fíli drink here every Friday night. 

When you entered, you wanted to surprise them and you were waiting for the right moment to join them, but you didn’t expect they would talk about you. Especially about this subject…

“You were drunk, both of you,” Kíli resumes. Fíli gets his head off his arms and sighs again “Drunk or not, you don’t sleep like that with your…”. Someone shouts in the pub while he finishes his sentence. “As if you regret it,” Kíli laughs. “Stop that Kíli!” Fíli shouts seriously.

They should change the subject now, right? But, should you really join them after that? Then you hear “There are things I regret in my life, but this is the worst and you–”. A group of happy dwarves shout a new time their happiness while you freeze. Kíli is looking at you, as surprised as happy to see you. He speaks to his brother while you already start to run away. You don't see Fíli hit the table with his fist even less standing up so suddenly that he spills his beer all over his brother.

You literally run away until you're almost home. In two streets, you will be in the cosy place Thorin gave you under his mountain. Your steps slow down as you realise how stupid you are to think everything could be the same after àthat. You suspected that Fíli avoided you since you spent a night together, and you have your answer. It's clearly unnecessary to talk more to him. It was a mistake. Period. 

Maybe it could be different if you could have talked the next morning. If only he wasn’t a prince, he wouldn’t have early duties every morning. Especially when he was in your bed! Who sends a guard to fetch someone in the bed of his… his what anyway? You’re just his friend. Well, “was” now.

When you’re almost arrived at your place, you hear your name shouted from afar. You could recognise this voice everywhere, so you quickly hide in the first street you see. Except that before being a prince, Fíli was a warrior, and you can’t escape a warrior that easily… Even though you take another way to go home, someone grabs your wrist when you arrive at your front door. Of course, it’s Fíli. And not a happy Fíli. Everyone who’s walking in the street is looking at you since everyone knows Erebor’s heir.

“Listen Fíli. I don’t want a drama. Like you said, let’s forget. And if you don't want to see me again, well, I understand,” you say as you try to get back your wrist. “No. We need to talk. Let's inside,” he simply says as he opens your front door and leads you inside.

After lighting a few candles, you put the last one on the table. You barely turn toward Fíli that he is already in front of you, not leaving you the time to say anything. He clears his voice and you notice how he is nervous. You never see him like that. Not even when he speaks to Erebor’s people officially. “First, I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier to talk to you since that night. I had a lot to do but the main reason is I was ashamed.” You repeat the last word he said, unstable to keep your surprise. Yet, he continues, his eyes looking at the candle, “I should never sleep with you. We were drunk.” “Yes, we were drunk, but not enough not to know what we were doing,” you say seriously. His eyes turn now to yours, “Yes, maybe, but I should court you first.” He runs a hand on his face as if it could help him to breathe better while your heart starts to beat stronger. When his eyes come back to you, your heart stops beating. Were his eyes always so mesmerising?

“We, Dwarves, always court their One first. I know Men do differently, but I shouldn’t touch you like that. But your dress… Mahal, you were stunning in this dress that night. I behaved like an idiot… Mahal, I really do blame myself,” he pauses for a breath. A murmur escapes your lips, “their One?”. Something changes in his eyes. You swear they looked at your lips before coming back to your eyes. “Am I your One?” you eventually ask in a quiet tone. “Yes, you are. I have loved you since I saw you. But I also know Men’s mores and I don't expect anything from you,” he declares in a serious, almost sad, tone. “You love me?” you stupidly ask, still stunned by his words.

A smile appears on Fíli’s face. The first smile since that night. A chuckle escapes his lips as his fingers find your cheek, warming it with the memories of what they have done to you. “Are you just going to keep questioning me?” he laughs, his moustache’s braid bouncing. You laugh too, the whole tension vanishing. “Even if I’m of Men, I only sleep with the person I love,” you shyly say. That's all it takes for Fíli to kiss you, this time with  all the love he has for you.

Kili

Since you joined Thorin’s company, you have made friends with Fíli and Kíli. The time you enjoy the most is after dinner. They tell stories about their childhood in the Blue Mountains or some anecdotes about everyone while you tell them about your world. Like them, you can’t stay quiet for a long time, so most of the time the others shout at you to go somewhere else to talk. Which you do. 

Fíli is always the first to go to sleep. That’s why the others don’t make fun of him when you barely can open your eyes in the morning when it's time to leave…

Talking with them at night has become routine and when you arrive in Rivendell, without having to worry about the next day, you spend your first sleepless nights with them. After some time, Fíli doesn’t stay with you late less and less since Thorin seems to need him more and more in the morning.

As the quest goes on, you can’t speak with Kíli in the evening. Fatigue, injury, watches, cold, danger, it seems that everything is trying to avoid you to enjoy your evening. Little by little, there comes a time when you can’t remember the last time you had a long conversation with Kíli and you miss it terribly. During the day, you make some jokes but it’s not the same.

So, as soon as you’re feeling safe, you can’t keep your tongue, you and of course Kíli. The first night at Beorn after Gandalf introduced everyone, you and Kíli spoke all night. So much time to make up! Fíli joined you for the first hour, but he quickly abandoned you.

The next morning, it takes you some time to remember where you are. You hear some voices from afar, but according to the bright sun, it must be late, especially since everyone is already up. Everyone except Kíli still sleeping next to you. Well… Behind you. His arm around your waist. His hand on your stomach. His head buried in your hair… He is too close, right? You can even feel his breathing in your neck. Should you stay like this? You definitely can’t move without waking him up, and you don’t want to wake up in this position. Especially with your cheek as red as a tomato.

But… Breakfast is calling you. As soon as you try to move his hand, his arm holds you stronger, your back pressed against his hard chest. He eventually grumbles, “Don’t move.” You chuckle, “But they won’t leave us anything to eat.” He laughs too, but doesn't seem to move. You wait, trying to find a good idea to wake him up until he says in a sleepy voice, “I want to wake up like this everyday…”. You stay still a moment before turning to him and joking, “Without breakfast?”. His answer doesn’t wait, “With you. In my arms. Every morning.”

Oh. Well. You want it too, but it sounds complicated, right? A woman of Men, a Dwarf prince. Plus, you’re poor. Oh and useless as well. You still don’t know what you’re doing in this quest.

Tired of waiting for your reaction or your answer, Kíli suddenly sits up, his arms crossed on his chest, his hair in a mess, but above all, his frowning eyebrows. “I was saying that I love you, you know?” he says in an upset tone. “Don’t joke with that Kíli,” you sigh, starting to feel hurt with a joke like this so early on a morning that was starting off so well. He already joked about this in the past, flirting with you randomly. He even already kissed you without saying anything afterward. Well, maybe because you almost died and you didn’t have the time to talk about this but…

“I’m not joking! I truly love you!” Now he’s not frowning, his eyes look sincere. You want to believe him. “But you always joke about that,” you grumble in a pouting face. “Not about this. Never. Amrâlimê, I kissed you after we ran from the gobelins because I was so scared of losing you. I couldn't see you and I thought you had stayed behind. When I saw you, I couldn't control myself…” You stop pouting, hoping he says the truth. “Really?” you ask in a shy tone. “Really,” he confirms, a smile widening on his lips. You can't resist a smile like that. “Because I love you too, and if you lie, I’ll–” Of course you can’t finish your sentence. As soon as Kíli hears your words, he leans over you and kisses you. He begins slowly, barely brushing your lips, but when you kiss him back, his ardour takes over. As one of his hands keeps him from falling on you, the other one begins to touch your hip. Even though you would love to continue, you were thinking of stopping him when the door of your makeship dormitory opens. “It's nearly midday! Time to get up, night owls!” Fíli exclaims until he sees what his brother is doing. “Alright, pretend I didn't come,” he says as he turns towards the door. “But I won't be able to hold the others back for long.” He closes the door behind him, leaving you and Kíli laughing like teenagers caught in the act.

Bilbo 

During the quest, you easily became friends with Bilbo. He is a charming person, and you and he have a lot of things in common. Little by little, you understand your feelings for him were more than friendship, but you stayed quiet about it, the quest was too important to think about anything else. After the success of Erebor's quest, Thorin, the new king, offered you and Bilbo to live under the lonely mountain. Bilbo missed too much his home to stay here. Yet, he promised to visit them one day. For you, the choice was harder. The mountain seemed great. You would be glad to help with the rebuilding, but without Bilbo, it wouldn't be the same. So you decide to follow him. 

It's obviously impossible for you to live in the Shire, so you have settled in the closest Men’s town: Bree. You have found a correct job and people are nicer than you would have thought. For visiting Bilbo, it's 6 days walking from door to door, but you quickly decided to use a horse. (You really miss trains and buses…) So now you live two days' ride, you visit him when you can. Bilbo offered to visit you in Bree, but with his ponies’ allergy, you prefer coming to the Shire. 

The Shire is beautiful, even more than all Bilbo told you during the quest. He always finds something interesting to show you. Hike, food, drink, festivities, landscape, market, watching the sky with Old Toby,... You enjoy every time you spend with him. At first, Hobbits looked at you strangely, but now, you could say you have drank tea with all of Bilbo's neighbours. Lucky for you, the closest inn of Bag End, the Green Dragon Inn, has one room at Men’s size, which you found weird until Bilbo explained it’s usually Gandalf’s room.

One summer evening, you’re dining in that very inn with Bilbo after a long hike in the east, on an outside table, the wind glowing softly on you. “I’m glad you’re here,” Bilbo says as he finishes his meal. “You always worked during the summer’s festivities and I always wanted to see you.” “Oh, no. Don’t tell me it begins tomorrow…  But I’m leaving tomorrow!” you sadly sigh. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” “I thought you knew,” Bilbo says as it was obvious. “It’s the same dates every year. And you saw the tent and everything under the Party Tree, didn't you?” “I thought it was over... Wait here, I'll check with Mr Whitfoot if I can stay in the room tomorrow night.”

Unlike usual, Bilbo is unable to read your face when you come back to your conversation with Mr Whitfoot, the innkeeper of the Green Dragon. “The bad news is I can’t have the room, but the good news is because Gandalf reserved it,” you smile bitterly,  already regretting not going to the summer festivities with Bilbo.

“You can stay at Bag End. I have enough room for you,” he said with a little nervousness in his voice. You notice his embarrassment and you don’t want to impose yourself at his home. “I don't want to disturb you, I’ll think of it tonight and I’ll answer you tomorrow morning,” you explain with a smile. “You won’t disturb me at all, but alright, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he says, finally smiling again like usual.

Of course, you accept to stay at Bag End. The festivities, Gandalf, sleeping in Bag End, just next door to Bilbo’s, waking up together, eating breakfast together, like a married couple. Alright, let’s stop now!

Gandalf is still the same. You spend a part of the night chatting with him and Bilbo, with some other curious young hobbits. At some point, after eating and drinking too much, you both decide to go back to Bag End. The night was very fun – despite Lobelia intervention when she learned you were staying in Bag End. In Bilbo’s smial, you still can hear the laughs and the music from the Party Tree. “You’re sure I can stay here? Your cousin, Lobelia didn’t seem happy about it,” you joke as you’re taking off your shoes. “According to the latest news, Bag End is still my home,” he grumbles as you’re unable to hide your smile, enjoying his reactions every time you talk about Lobelia. “She can say whatever she wants, it’s my home!” He could have grumbled a long time if you hadn’t burst out laughing. “Alright. I get it,” he sighs before laughing with you. You both are tipsy and you continue to laugh until you reach your room.

“If you need anything, I'm just in the room next door,” he smiles as you enter the guest bedroom. If you weren’t as tired and as tipsy, you would have noticed the room has changed. The room is at your size. Both the ceiling and the furniture. “You know your home by heart. I could make tea with my eyes closed!” you laugh, not noticing Bilbo’s cheek becoming pink at your words. “But thank you for letting me sleep here. Nights are not cold, but I never say no to a bed when I can have one!” “You’re welcome. Don’t forget to wake up early if you want breakfast,” he says, smirking. You can’t count how many times you miss the first breakfast in the Shire.

Do you wake up late? Yes. Of course. The bed is so comfortable, the room is so quiet, the smell is so good… with a little touch of bread, tea, jam, egg,... You jump out of the bed and hurry up to the kitchen. Bilbo is smiling, “Good morning.” Has Bilbo been waiting for you? It’s the first time you have breakfast with him since the quest is over, and something feels different now. The table looks so perfect. How many times have you dream of waking up here like that? 

“Do you want tea?” he asks as he takes the kettle off the heat. “Good morning,” you murmur as you sit down on a chair at your size. As you’re half-asleep, you don’t notice you’re still in nightdress, light for summer nights, but Bilbo did. Oh, he did, and that’s why he shakes his head as he repeats his question. “Yes, absolutely!” you exclaim with a broad smile. “I never saw a table like that for breakfast! So many dishes! Bombur would be jealous of your cooking skills! I’m glad to be hungry! Everything looks so good! Can I try each plate?” you ask with great enthusiasm, perhaps a little too much. “Oh, sorry. I’m very loud for a morning. It’s rude and annoying…” Bilbo sits in front of you with two cups of tea. Despite your behaviour, he looks happy. The morning rays of light gently illuminate his hair and face. You could easily get used to this every morning...

“Not at all. I've had mornings noisier than this,” he smiles as he sips his tea. “And yes, you can eat everything you want.” “Don’t say that or I’ll really eat everything,” you laugh as you spread jam on your buttered toast. “I don't even have a third of this table in Bree, when I have breakfast. I mean, at home.” You still don’t use to live in Bree as your home.

“I can make breakfast like this whenever you want,” he says in a too serious tone for a morning as you’re savouring one of his cheeses. “I’d love to, but I don’t think I can stay another night. I have to go back to work,” you say, a little sad not to enjoy another night here, and another breakfast. A long silence makes you feel that something is wrong. Bilbo is too quiet for such a morning. You raise your head from your plate to see him looking at his tea, turning his spoon in his cup endlessly. “If you stayed here, you could have breakfast whenever you like,” he says quietly. You’re about to repeat your former answer, but Bilbo doesn’t give you the time to do it.

 “I wasn’t talking about tomorrow. I mean, yes, I’d love you to stay tomorrow, but I meant for all the mornings. I mean. Oh Yavanna, I’m ridiculous…” As he talks, he gets so upset that he gets to his feet and comes to stand in front of you, one fist clenched and the other hand pointing at you with his spoon. He breathes a last time before looking at you, his eyes eventually softening. “If you want to, I would love you to live in Bag End with me.”

You’re speechless first. Then, “I can’t. I mean, I’m of Men. No one wants somebody like me here,” you sigh as you look at your feet, feeling your tears welling up. “I want to,” Bilbo says, determined, as he takes your hands. “And I'm sure all the hobbits you know won't object. The whole Shire has realised a long time ago how I felt about you and they've all accepted you already.” “Your feelings?” you suddenly ask, your eyes searching for an answer in his eyes before his words. Yet, his eyes frown. “I wouldn't ask you to move to Bag End if I didn't love you. I'd even offer to make you a breakfast every morning, I don't know what more you need…”

At this point, you can't hold back your laughter. Before his upset face, you react quickly. Pulling on his hands, he steps towards you close enough to feel his fringe caress your forehead. “I need a morning kiss, and I’d stay here forever,” you murmur. His cheeks become redder than ever and his hands become sweaty, but when he decides eventually to kiss you, his lips are softer than you had imagined. Softer and sweeter.

Thorin

Tonight is the first night you spent with Men since Bree. Lack-town is still an unwelcome place for you and the company, but Bard and his family are very nice with you. With Sigrid’s help, you’re warm now and you don’t smell fish anymore. The children are already sleeping as some of the company. You don’t know how to thank Bard since you don’t have money like the others, so you offer your help in the house. After helping Sigrid with the dishes, you ask what you could do, and she explains they have some damaged clothes that need stitching and she has no idea how to do it.

So here you are, sitting in the corner of the table, in the light of a candle, mending some clothes. Everyone is busy with their own business when Thorin sits next to you. You first don’t notice him, focused on your task. He put a warm tea next to you before speaking. “Do you want to be my Queen?” he says, as serious as ever. No one reacts, pretending to be still busy. “Queen of what?” you chuckle, still focused on your task. “Queen of Erebor,” he answers after making sure that Bard was no longer there to listen in. You don’t notice how serious he is, all it takes for him to ask you that here, in front of the others. He is not the type of person who expresses his feelings in front of everyone, so you don’t take it seriously. “But there is no Erebor,” you say, not seeing how troubled he is with your answer. “Not now,” he continues after a long silence in which the crackling of the fire is the loudest sound. “But Erebor will be with us soon.”

A smile appears on your lips as you finish what you have planned before going to sleep. After you take the tea that Thorin gave you, you turn to him. Now you notice how serious he was, how sad his eyes are despite his calm behaviour. You take a moment to repeat the conversation in your head. He is about to stand up when you exclaim, “Wait, wait, wait!” You put your tea on the table, then raise your hands in front you.  “You want me as your Queen? Wait. But you. That what you said? But. I’m confused,” you heart is beating too fast to say a correct sentence. When Thorin sees that your hands are shaking, he hesitates to take them. “I know I’m good in organisation and papers, but that shouldn’t be a reason to title me as a Queen. Should you choose someone you love? I thought Dwarves only chose to spend their life with their One. Oh, maybe royalty doesn’t work like that.”

A laugh echoes in the room. Bofur gets Thorin's blackest look of his life. But for you, his eyes are sparkling and a smile eventually appears on his lips. A genuine smile. “That's correct. I want my One as my Queen,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Now your cheeks are burning and you stop breathing. Do you really properly understand what he is saying?

You try to say something, but your words are blocked in your throat. Staying with your mouth open makes the future king chuckling. At the end of the room, you hear two dwarves sneezing exaggeratedly, “Heiswaitingforananswer” then “Notinthreedays”. Fíli and Kíli earn the same look as Bofur, but you don’t see it. As you only realise everyone in the room is looking at you, you suddenly stand up. Understanding you, Thorin stands up too, takes your hand and leads you outside.

As it’s dark and late, no one would see you, but the most preoccupying thing is the cold. Before you say anything, Thorin puts his jacket on your shoulders. “Tell me if you’re cold,” he says seriously, but his jacket is so warm that you already forget about the weather. “Do you really mean it? Why do you think I’m your One?” you shyly ask as you close the too big jacket on yourself, taking advantage to hide your burning cheeks. When you look back to him, you’re surprised to discover a new facet of Thorin. An (cute) embarrassed Thorin is in front of you. “Mahal, how should I tell you?” he begins as he runs a hand on his face, stopping on his mouth. “I know you're my One because I love you. And this is why I want you to be my Queen.” He swallows his saliva with difficulty, waiting for an answer from you that doesn't seem to be coming. “But maybe my feelings for you are not mutual, and if I offend you in any way, I apologise,” he says as his eyes sadden gradually. 

“No!” you eventually cry out as you grab his hands, surprisingly warm. You already touch them a few times, but never like that. “It’s mutual. Your feelings. I mean my feelings,” you sigh, trying to compose yourself. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this in this Men’s town when we’re almost at Erebor, but–” He cuts you off, “I don’t want you to stay here with your kin. I saw how you look at the town and… that man.” You frown, firstly because he stopped you while you were talking, secondly because he doesn’t trust you. “What man?” “The one who lets us stay in his house,” he grumbles.

“If you let me talk, Thorin Oakenshield, you would know that I love you too, since the first time I saw you! About Lake-town, I know nobody here. They are not my kin. The company is my family now!” you hurry to say before the conversation takes a bad turn. You truly love him from the start, but you obviously never hoped for anything. “Are you sure I’m your One?” you ask again, making him eventually smile. He realises one of your hands to run his in your hair. “I've never been so sure of anything,” he tenderly says. As he looks for a place for a braid, you can’t remain motionless. A step is enough to access his lips and you take that step. At the beginning, you feel Thorin’s surprise, but it quickly progresses into a sweet, lovely kiss under a snowy night.

[bked0n-lorazepam]

"Sweltering"

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Summary (Smut): Y/N and Patrick are placed as partners on their senior camp trip for Derry high-school. Regrets are thought after Patrick convinced her to place their tent further away from the others, and when their fans die in the middle of the night in the awful Derry heat.

Warnings: Vulgar language, dubious consent, fingering, cunnilingus, nipple play, camping, in a tent. Patrick and Reader are 18 and seniors!

A/N: Sorry guys, motivation kind of went out the window for my WIP's and I can't think when I try to write them, so here's this apology while I wait for my writer's block to end!

Smut under the cut!!

---------------->

It was dark out, and hot. The Derry highschool had a camp field trip that only the seniors could go on as a ‘going away’ event for their graduation. Y/N and Patrick were partnered together, much to each other’s distaste.

There was an odd amount of people on the trip, and when Y/N was told that the other student was going to join her group of three and that she’d have to be with Patrick, she groaned.

–

“Do I have to? What have I done to deserve this?” She begged her councilor to change the groups.

“Ms. L/N, you’re the perfect student, and he isn’t. We’re hoping that maybe while on this trip, you can influence him in some kind of way. Please, you can still hang out with your past group, you just need to stick with him as well.” Her councilor begged her back, hope shining in his eyes. 

All the teachers at the highschool knew that Patrick wasn’t the greatest student, so they always paired her and him together when they could. Projects and presentations, hell, they even made her his tutor. She hated how much time out of her life he took up, and he hated how much of his she took up.

“Fucking, fine. Whatever.” Y/N sighed dramatically and walked away to talk to her friends.

She heard a faint ‘language’ from her councilor before getting pulled aside and directed the other way.

“So, we’re buddies again. Huh, toots?” Patrick grinned and put his hand on her waist while walking her towards their assigned bus. 

“Guess so,” Y/N rolled her eyes at the nickname he gave her when they met, and pulled his hand that was slowly moving to her ass off of her. “Don’t fuck this trip up.” 

“I’ll think about it.”

–

Patrick did not, in fact, think about it.

He somehow convinced her to set up their tent further away from the others, and the fans that they were given on the bus had died. They were both sweating and kicked off their blankets, and now they laid on their sleeping bags. 

“I hate you.” Y/N panted, using the safety folder as a fan. She was wearing a dark green tank top and sweatpants on, and she was sweltering. 

“Mutual feelings.” Patrick responded, laying on his back with his arms behind his head. He took his shirt off and was wearing his black boxers, even though Y/N complained about him taking off his pants.

She knew she couldn’t say much, though, having taken off her bra earlier in the night because of how uncomfortable it was. She also knew that he was staring at her breasts half the time, but she didn’t bring it up. He’d do it if she had a sweater on, too.

Y/N stopped fanning herself for a moment and stared at the wall of the tent in front of her, and Patrick looked over at her.

“What?”

“Don’t get any ideas.” She set down the folder and stood up as he stared at her, watching her every movement.

She glanced at him and caught his eyes before looking away quickly and reaching her fingers into her waistband. Pulling off her pants, she stood there in her black lace panties, bare to Patrick’s eyes.

“Thought you were gonna get some?” Patrick snickered at her fancy underwear as she sat down and scoffed.

“Yeah, from Taylor.” She smiled sarcastically and fanned herself with the folder again, sighing in relief at the difference her lack of clothing made.

She’ll admit, she was hoping that she’d end up getting a tent with Taylor because she thought he was hot, but now she was stuck with Patrick. Who was kind of attractive.

But also really attractive.

Patrick hummed and watched her again before a large grin grew on his face. He sat up from his sleeping bag and crawled over to her when she closed her eyes, and he covered her mouth with his hand when she yelped in surprise. 

“Patrick, what the fuck!” She hissed quietly to not wake the other campers.

“Shut up and enjoy this.” He sneered and slid his hands up and down her body.

Y/N gasped and grabbed his shoulders when his hands cupped her breasts and played with her nipples. She’d had sex before, but they were all asses who never thought of foreplay, so naturally, she was sensitive.

He smiled at her reactions and continued to pinch them, leaning in to kiss her neck when she threw her head back and moaned. He kissed and nipped all over her neck, leaving bruises wherever his lips touched.

She bucked her hips up into his when he found her sweet spot, and she wrapped her fingers in his hair while he sucked at it.

“Patrick, stop. We shouldn’t be doing this.” Y/N panted heavily. She didn’t want him to stop at all, but she held onto a small sense of her dignity.

They shouldn’t be doing this with the other students just a couple yards away from them, but she also knew that Patrick didn’t care.

All he did was move further down her neck and kiss her collarbone before lifting her shirt over her breasts and attaching his lips to them.

She moaned, loudly, and reached a hand up to cover her mouth. Patrick laughed and sucked all over her smooth skin, his hands now moving down her hips, to the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck, stop. We can’t do this.” Even though her brain said one thing, her body said another. She didn’t do anything to stop him, other than tell him to.

She knew he wouldn’t listen, though, so she didn’t know why she was even trying.

His hands ghosted over her underwear to the inside of her thighs, and he rubbed the soft flesh. He pinched her and she whined, him smiling once again. 

Patrick slowly moved his hand up to where she wanted him most, and he ran a finger up her groin as she thrusted her hips towards it.

“Patrick, please.” Y/N didn’t even know what she was begging for, at this point. Whether he stopped or didn’t, it didn’t matter to her anymore. She just wanted to keep feeling good.

His fingers moved her underwear to the side and he ran a finger through her folds once again, detaching himself from her nipple.

He stared her in the eyes and brought the finger to his lips, sucking off the mess she left on them. 

“Patrick, please!”

His fingers moved skillfully and he kissed her, his middle finger plunging into her entrance all the way to his knuckle. She moaned loudly once again, but this time his mouth caught it. He stretched her out, and when he thought she was ready, he put his index finger in with it.

Y/N moved her hips with his fingers, trying to match the speed he was going at. It didn’t help that he was purposely messing up his rhythm so that she couldn’t, and he grinned when she sobbed into his mouth.

“Please, Patrick,” She whimpered, “‘M so close!”

He placed his thumb on her clit and rubbed it in a circular motion, reattaching himself to her nipple. “Go ahead.”

She cried out and clenched around his fingers, her hips finally being able to match his speed and rhythm. He let her ride out her high before he took his fingers away and moved down, licking up what was left on his fingers and her cunt.

When he was done, he sucked at her clit harshly, and she cursed out and tugged his hair away from her.

He sat up and wiped away what was on his chin, sucked at her sternum until he left a hickey, and pulled her shirt down.

Patrick palmed at his boxers and then kissed her before rolling over next to her, reassuming his position with his arm behind his head. 

“When I wake up, I expect to see you with my dick down your throat.” He told her, closing his eyes and getting comfortable.

“Yeah. M’kay, I guess.”

[thedensworld]

Towel Argument | H.Js

Pairing: Joshua x Reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, bit of angst

Summary: Towel is just a towel. It's not something essential. But why it is able to crack a relationship? Joshua is the first man to proof you that you won't have a towel argument.

You sat on the edge of the bed after finishing your nightly routine. Joshua, your husband, was likely still on his—meticulously ensuring every window was closed and every door locked before coming to bed. Your first intention was to wait for him so you could cuddle together, but your mind drifted to the conversation you had with your friends earlier today.

One of your friends, Jinah, had confessed that she was going to divorce her husband after just two years of marriage. All of you had offered sweet words and encouragement, striving to be the support system Jinah needed. Jinah explained that she had decided to divorce her husband because of a persistent argument about towels that irritated her every day. The irritation had snowballed into something intolerable for Jinah.

You couldn't help but pity the situation between Jinah and her husband. They had dated for seven years before marrying, only for Jinah to discover something post-marriage that she couldn't stand. It made you reflect on the complexities of relationships and how small issues, left unresolved, could lead to such drastic outcomes. You wondered if Jinah might regret this decision later, but respected her choice to pursue what she felt was best for her happiness.

Lost in these thoughts, you barely noticed Joshua finally joining you.

"Hey..." Joshua tapped your shoulder, pulling you away from your thoughts. You looked at him, slightly startled.

"I've been calling you. What's wrong?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. He knelt down in front of you, positioning himself close to your swelling tummy.

A gentle smile lingered on Joshua's face as he wrapped his arms around you, his lips brushing against your stomach in a tender kiss.

"Is something bothering you, love?" he murmured, his voice filled with warmth and care.

You felt a wave of emotions wash over you, grateful for his presence and the way he always seemed to know when something was on your mind.

You sighed, feeling the weight of the day's conversation settle over you again. "It's just something that came up during my gathering with the girls today," you began, your fingers lightly tracing circles on Joshua's arm.

He looked up at you, his eyes full of curiosity and concern. "What happened?"

"Jinah...she told us she's going to divorce her husband," you said, watching his reaction carefully. Joshua's eyebrows lifted in surprise.

"Really? They've only been married for two years, right?"

You nodded. "Yes, but they've been together for seven years in total. It was shocking to all of us. She said it was because of this constant argument about towels that irritated her every day. She felt it was something she just couldn't tolerate anymore, and it snowballed into a bigger issue."

Joshua's expression softened with understanding. "That sounds really tough. It's always the little things, isn't it?"

You took a deep breath, feeling the comfort of Joshua's embrace, but the thoughts continued to swirl in your mind. "I guess, seeing Jinah go through this made me worry about us," you admitted softly. "Especially with the baby on the way. There's just so much to think about—stress, work, everything that could affect our relationship."

Joshua's eyes remained gentle and reassuring as he listened. "I understand," he said, his voice steady. "It's a lot to take in, and it's natural to feel worried."

You felt a lump form in your throat. "I'm scared that with all the changes coming, we might face challenges that we haven't even considered yet. The stress from work, sleepless nights with the baby, trying to balance everything—it just feels overwhelming sometimes."

Joshua squeezed your hand gently, his touch grounding you. "We will have challenges, that's true. But we also have each other. We can face those challenges together, just like we always have."

You looked into his eyes, searching for reassurance. "But what if it's too much? What if we start arguing over little things like Jinah and her husband did?"

Joshua shook his head slightly, his expression resolute. "We'll argue, sure. Every couple does. But the important thing is how we handle those arguments. We need to keep communicating, be honest with each other, and make time for ourselves as a couple, even with a baby in the mix."

Tears welled up in your eyes, a mix of fear and relief. "I just want us to be okay, no matter what."

He brushed a tear from your cheek, his thumb lingering softly on your skin. "We will be. We'll make it through because we care about each other and our family. And when things get tough, we'll lean on each other even more."

As you and Joshua got ready to sleep, both of you lay down on the bed. Joshua was almost drifting off, his breathing slowing into a relaxed rhythm. You, however, couldn't find a comfortable position, something that had become a nightly struggle as your stomach grew. You shifted from side to side, trying to settle in.

Your mind kept circling back to Jinah and her husband. The thought of their crumbling marriage weighed heavily on you. Sensing your restlessness, Joshua stirred and pulled you gently into his embrace.

"Try to get some sleep, love," he whispered, his voice drowsy but caring.

You sighed, unable to hold back your thoughts. "It's not really about the towel, you know," you said softly, your voice tinged with frustration.

Joshua blinked, trying to shake off sleep. "What do you mean?" he asked, confusion evident in his tone.

"It's actually not just about the towel."

"The fact that Jinah had to keep repeating herself every day is a sign that he never really heard her, right? And that hurts," you explained, feeling the depth of Jinah's pain.

Joshua's brow furrowed as he processed your words. "So, it wasn't about the towel at all?"

"No, it wasn't," you replied, your voice firm. "It was about feeling unheard and unappreciated. Imagine telling someone something that's important to you over and over, and they just don't seem to care enough to listen or change. It's exhausting and hurtful."

Joshua nodded slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes. "I get it now. It's about respect and validation. No one wants to feel like they're talking to a wall."

"Exactly," you said, feeling a sense of relief that he understood. "That's what I'm scared of. I don't want us to ever get to that point where we stop listening to each other."

Joshua tightened his embrace, his hand gently rubbing your back. "We won't. We'll make sure we always hear each other, no matter what. Communication is key, and I'll always strive to listen to you, truly listen."

His words brought a sense of calm over you. You snuggled closer, feeling the warmth of his body and the strength of his commitment. "Thank you," you whispered, closing your eyes.

"Always," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Now, let's get some sleep. We've got a big day tomorrow, and our little one needs their rest too."

You smiled, finally finding a comfortable position. With Joshua's reassuring presence, you felt ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, knowing that together, you could handle anything. As sleep slowly overtook you, the worries about Jinah and her husband faded, replaced by a deep sense of love and security.

[azsazz]

Over Ice (Part 3)

Hockey!Rhysand x Reader

Summary: Anon Req: She’s walking around Campus and BOOM right smack dab into Broody McBrooder!! She THEN finds out he’s the tutor for one of her hardest courses (personally Psych would be a good one) and they become super duper close with him and the team!!!

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3147

(Part 1) (Part 2)

_________________________________________

Rhysand’s face hurts.

His hands do, too, but the scrapes and splits in the skin of his knuckles have nothing on the cut in his lip, which currently stings from the rush of alcohol that passes over his lips.

It’s cold, crisp, and free, so it’s the best beer he’s had all night.

Hell, his cheek is bruised too. It’s not a Picasso of mottled yellows, greens, and purples yet—curtesy of the time he spent poking and prodding the knotted bump in one of the locker room mirrors, post shower.

The only thing that isn’t bruised is his ego because he more than won that fight against the Penguin’s center, Kallias Winterborough. He fucking wiped the ice with him and then proceeded to use the rest of his team to clean house.

Somewhere in the Hockey House—aptly named for the number of players that reside in the five-bedroom, two-story craftsman—you and his cousin meander around, violet Solo Cups in hand because the red ones are so overrated. Plus, one of their biggest rivals—the Foxes—wear crimson, and no one at Velaris University would ever be caught repping that team at one of his parties.

It's a move he’s regretting a little too much right now, unable to revel in the Bat’s big win with his lip split in two. Fucker got him good, he can admit, but never aloud. Cassian would never let him live it down and Azriel would shoot him a scathing glare at the mere mention of another school’s team under their roof.

Az takes his superstitions seriously.

“Rhys, dude.” Cassian stumbles in through the square arch connecting the spacious living room to the cozy kitchen. It’s the only thing Rhysand doesn’t like about the Hockey House: no open floorplan. That means, when he plays host as he so often does because he can’t afford a hangover from hell following most mornings, he can’t see what’s going on in the kitchen if he’s in the living room or vice versa.

He can’t see people sneaking up the stairs, and even though he keeps his room locked at all times following the Cassian Incident™ that included two leggy blondes and the Frozen Four first place trophy—announcing the next afternoon that blondes do, in fact, have more fun—he still doesn’t trust a horde of university students on a high from their win not to do anything stupid.

Speaking of stupid…Cassian slides to a halt beside him. He’s so eager to share whatever the hell with Rhys that he overshoots, slamming his hip into the counter. His friend howls, and much unto Rhys’ surprise, others join in, like it’s some kind of victory cry and not one that says ‘I just bashed my hip in, somebody help me, please.’

Rhysand is in no mood to help.

“What’s up, Cass?” Rhys sighs, frowning when he tips his bottle back to his mouth only to find it empty. He hadn’t realized how much he drank; thought he was nursing it with the way his lip burns.

Cassian’s face contorts from pain back to amused like a flick of a switch and the pain was long forgotten. His nose is permanently crooked from the number of times he’s broken it during fights both on and off the ice, and he’d be missing one of his pearly whites if he hadn’t just gotten it fixed earlier this week. Thankfully, his moustache has been shaved off for tonight, showing off his plump, pink lips. His brunet hair is the longest on the team, just brushing the tops of his massive shoulders, and thankfully. On one side, it’s tucked tightly behind his ear, showing off the gold ring he punched through it on a dare at their first party freshman year.

Cassian’s hazel eyes have a spark in them that 1: Rhys has seen too many times, and 2: never means anything good.

Rhysand narrows his own, breaking that eager contact to scour the kitchen for another beer because goddammit, he’s going to need it with the way his friend is all but shaking with excitement.

“Have you found your nurse yet?” Cassian asks, trailing him around the marble slab counter.

“My what?” Rhysand side-steps a couple making out so hard that they go crashing into the first thing that isn’t each other: the wall. The petite girl with bright blue hair whimpers loudly, and the noise is swallowed up by the guy that’s sticking his tongue straight down her windpipe.

It looks grosser than it seems, Rhys defends when a pang of want slaps him right in the chest.

“Your nurse, dude,” Cassian whines. He slips on a rogue wet patch on the obsidian floor tiles and now Rhysand has another thing to dislike in this house. All he needs is someone cracking their skull open on his kitchen floor or the couple to fall and have his teeth through her lips from the impact. “You know, cause you’re all injured.” He waves flippantly towards Rhysand’s wounds.

“I don’t need a nurse,” Rhys answers, confused. He pulls open the fridge and snags two beers off of the shelf Cassian and two of his other roommates have dedicated it to. He hands one to his friend, who pops the top off with his teeth, and Rhys raises an unimpressed brow. “I didn’t get that hurt.” Plus, he’s already been to see the team trainer for his shiners.

He busies himself with the beer opener that’s stuck to the side of the fridge, then grabs the roll of paper towels from their holder to wipe up the mess Cassian’s leaving footprints with. Well, he unrolls a few and tosses them onto the spill, anyway.

“No, I mean like a lady nurse.” Cassian waggles his brows. “Someone who can kiss you better, maybe even give you a hand—”

And, well, that might just help his mood.

“Hey.” Azriel breezes into the kitchen like he’s still on his skates. He has his own cup in hand, filled with water. Rhys know this because he’s never seen Azriel drink anything other than water and the occasional coffee. He takes his training more seriously than half of the team, which bodes well for Rhys because he always has a gym buddy, but sometimes, he wishes his friend would let loose, even if it meant seeing a girl. Or sleeping with one. “Heads up.”

The warning has Rhys standing straighter, ready to abandon his beer on the counter to play his role as captain and the one in charge of the party. His roommates naturally defer to him in house affairs because they’re used to it, but really, Rhys doesn’t have much more room in his packed schedule for warding off drunk students and stopping fights.

The last thing he needs tonight is to find himself in the middle of a fight.

“Rhys!” A perky blonde squeals, and his shoulders drop for a second only to tense right back up when his cousin throws herself into his arms.

He catches her with an oof, spitting out her wild locks that somehow always end up everywhere. He loves his cousin dearly, like a sister, but why is she here right now?

He doesn’t see you following your roommate into the kitchen, jaw slack like it’s been since you first saw the Hockey House lit up in all of its glory. The place is absolutely massive, it looks like it could rival one of the houses on Greek row.

The kitchen is moody yet warm. The dark tiles match the onyx-stained flat arch you just walked through. The lighter gray marble countertop brightens the room, and the deep blue cabinets paired with the soft lighting paints the room in perfect synchrony.

It’s absolutely stunning.

Neither of you see the other at first. Rhys because he’s still trying to blink Mor’s hair from his eyes and you because you’re entranced by the interior design of the home. There’s no way five boys could possibly live here, let alone five hockey players. It’s a bit of a mess with the party raging around you, yes, but you haven’t seen one hole in the drywall, not one forgotten dish nor a pair of boxers left of the bathroom floor—you checked.

Because you were using the restroom of course, you weren’t looking for that specific reason.

“Hey, Mor,” Rhys greets when she finally detaches herself from him. She doesn’t go far, only stepping back enough to introduce you to him. “What are you doing here?”

Violet eyes clash with yours, drawing your heart to a standstill. He looks just as good as he did when you were sprawled out on his chest: dark hair clean and mussed through, red lips parted as if the words he wants to say are stuck in his throat.

The only thing different about him now is that cut in his lip and the redness to his cheek from his fight on the ice that you bore witness to.

The memory replays in your mind again, awakening tingles in your body that shouldn’t be. And just how you’re praying for them not to, they converge right between your thighs, settling in nice and hot and begging for attention as the sight of him with burning violet eyes as he decks his opposition across the jaw replays.

It really shouldn’t have been as hot as it was, and he himself shouldn’t be as hot as he is, either.

You hold yourself still, focusing eighty percent on your attention on trying to calm your eager bits down and the other twenty percent on making sure you don’t look constipated while doing so.

Rhys blinks at you and you return his blank stare, watching, waiting to see if he recognizes you, too.

Oh, he does.

“We came to see your game tonight,” she says, as if it isn’t obvious from your attire. The attire that Rhys is currently dragging his eyes down, drinking in every inch—all four of them—of the jersey your roommate forced you into tonight. You watch his eyes flare as he reads the number across your chest. His number, you’re just now realizing.

Heat floods your cheeks but you’re unable to bolt like you so desperately want to. Your heart is beating three times as fast in your chest as he slowly, slowly, rakes his gaze up from your legs that are glued to the floor, all the way to your eyes, that are glued to his face.

“This is (Y/N),” Mor announces, gesturing to you with a flourish. When you make no move forward to greet them, her red nails curl around the hem of your jersey and yank.

You stumble forward, and the trance is broken. Unfortunately, so is your face, because you slip in something on the tiles and are plummeting face-first into the ground. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, lips parted to scream or groan, whichever your mind catches up to first—

The impact never comes. Strong hands grip your arms, stopping you from eating tile. You’re too stunned to speak, even when you’re planted back on your feet and staring into the chest you were lying on only this afternoon.

Rhysand Cunningham.

Jesus, you’re really going to have to stop saying his full name like that. It’s creepy.

“Easy now,” Rhys says, making sure you’re steady. You somehow find the courage to look him in the eyes, hastily tamping down the mortification that threatens to consume you.

As soon as your eyes lock, it’s like magic.

There’s no other way to describe whatever is happening between the two of you right now. His light touch is searing, and so are his eyes as he scans your face, making sure you’re not hurt.

Rhys’ abandoned beer sits precariously close to the edge of the counter, and Cassian accidentally knocks it off with his elbow when he dodges a playful swat Mor tosses his way. It goes crashing to the floor, startling you and Rhys from your trance.

You jump, gaze following the noise. Rhys’ hands slip from your body and you shiver at the cold that replaces him, even though it’s stifling in this house with the number of bodies packed into it. You manage one large step back that he doesn’t seem to notice because he’s already snatching the paper towels from where he put them last and barking at passerby to “be fucking careful.”

“I, uh,” you stutter, and holyfuckingshit, he’s leaning over to clean up the mess. You get a full view of that toned ass; despite the jeans he’s wearing. It’s perfect, round like an apple, juicy like one too, you bet. The sudden urge to lean over and sink your teeth into it hits you like a semi— “I need to use the bathroom.”

You scurry away from your roommate and her cousin like it’s your ass that’s just been bitten into.

Rhys grumbles the entire time he cleans up the spilt beer. Cassian tried to help, his chocolate eyes wide and sad, spouting off apologies like he did something much worse than break a fucking bottle, but hissed when he cut his thumb on a sharp edge. Rhys had pushed him away from the scene immediately after that.

He wonders if Cassian is going to bound off into the living room and find himself a nurse of his own, now.

“Hey, where did your friend go?” Rhys asks Mor who’s chewing on a cherry stem. He grimaces, not even knowing where those came from.

“Roommate,” Mor answers pointedly, serving him a harsh look that only confuses the hockey player.

“Okay…where did your roommate go?” He clarifies, eyes sweeping the room for you. Disappointment prickles at his skin just as much as the look his cousin is shooting him. He’d gotten his look at you alright, but he’s suddenly feeling like the single up-down he gave you was not nearly enough.

“To the bathroom,” she answers, rounding the counter, eyeing all of the opened bottles of liquor on top. She must not see anything she likes, because he doesn’t reach for anything. “Why?”

Why? Because you brought her here and I want to be nice? Rhys thinks. I want to get to know her, maybe somewhere private—

“I didn’t really get to introduce myself.” Is what he goes with.

Mor snorts, rolling her eyes because she is not falling for that one. “She’s off limits.”

“Then why did you bring her here?” Rhys blurts, unable to stifle the words before they slip out. Damn beer.

“Because we wanted to see your game,” Mor replies, watching her cousin closely.

If you wanted to see my game, you shouldn’t have warned me against your roommate, he thinks, and then cringes.

“Well, thanks for coming, cuz,” he offers, because there’s no good rhyme or reason to start arguing with her. Especially when both of their parents are just phone calls away.

He’d rather be getting the third degree from Mor than his mother, anyway.

Rhys swiftly changes the subject. “Hope you enjoyed me kicking some ass.”

Mor’s tight face melts into amusement. She laughs, tossing her head back on her shoulders. “Yeah, I really did enjoy that, actually.”

It’s at that exact moment that Rhys catches sight of you again. You’re caught halfway in the archway of the kitchen, presumably on your way back from the bathroom. Your lips are pulled into a smile as you giggle, and he wishes he could hear it over the gods-awful music. Your eyes are bright and he watches you brush a strand of hair behind your ear, cheeks pinkening with a blush that makes him wonder just who’s putting that look on your face.

Rhys takes one step to the left and his entire body begins boiling with heat when he catches sight of one of his players speaking to you.

If she’s off limits to me, then my players are off limits to her.

And that’s exactly what they are, too, players. Mor’s right, he can’t end up letting one of his teammates fuck around with you, not when you’re so close to his cousin. She’d be devastated if you got hurt, and fuck it, he would too. He’d kill one of his guys if they broke your heart.

Rhys doesn’t talk sense into himself as he stalks your way, doesn’t think about the repercussions or his actions when he slides up to your side, all rigid muscles and sharp looks.

“What do we have here?” he asks, drawing you away from the friendly conversation you were having with the handsome hockey player about the types of tapes and casts that can be used when treating different injuries.

It’s James Attor, from your Athletic Training Techniques class. You’d recognized him, but didn’t know he played for the Velaris hockey team. He’s a sophomore like you, and more interested in the injuries part of his sport than the actual scoring.

“Oh, hey, Cap,” James greets, shrinking under the scrutinizing gaze of his team leader. He knows that look, it’s the one Rhys gets before he’s about to lose his mind on the ice. “I was just talking to (Y/N) about—”

“About nothing,” Rhys finishes for him, and you frown. What the hell is his problem?

“James, wait,” you call, but it’s too late, he’s already slipped into the crowd of people dancing in the middle of the living room, and you don’t have supervision to see through them.

Whirling around on your heel, you glare up at Rhys. “What was that?”

“What was what?” Rhys asks, striding back towards the kitchen. You decide that playing stupid doesn’t look good on him. And neither does that split lip.

You can’t believe you wanted to get closer. For a better look at his wounds, of course.

“That!” You exclaim, throwing your arm out and pointing where you were just standing. It serves no purpose because Rhys isn’t facing you, which only stokes your anger further. “I was talking to him!”

“Yeah,” he rounds on his feet so fast you don’t even see it coming and for the second time today, you run smack dab into the middle of his chest.

This time, you don’t tumble into a pile of limbs.

You blink, dumbfounded.

“And I’d prefer it if you don’t,” Rhys finishes, chest tight. He feels on edge at the way your body pressed up against his, like lightning in his veins. He grits his teeth, willing the feeling to go away.

“Yeah,” you scoff, tossing him your best glare. You cross your arms over your chest for effect, but all it does is make that skimpy shirt you’re wearing ride up more, and both Rhys’ eyes and throat catch at the sight of your creamy skin. Your word sounds like a threat when you say, “Unlikely.”

_________________________________________

Over Ice Taglist:

@saltedcoffeescotch @acourtofbatboydreams @mrsjna @velarisdusk @bionic-donut @tenshis-cake @eleganttravelercloud @lilah-asteria @serena05 @bwormie @soph1644 @house-husband-of-castlemurdock @tothestarsandwhateverend @topaz125 @judig92 @se7enteen--black-blog @thecraziestcrayon @cherry-cin @itsinherited @justafictionalnerd

[cimmanonrowl]

In the right time, maybe.

Chapter One | Chapter Navigation

Pairing: dbf!aaron hotchner x bfd!reader

Contents: age gap, older guy x young woman relationship, forbidden love, flashback, sassy!reader, even sassier!aaron.

7 years ago.

“The calls started coming in…” It was the first thing you heard your mother say since you joined her and your father for breakfast. 

You forced yourself to continue eating. But the eggs taste like nothing, the toast dry in your mouth like gravel. For the last 15 minutes you spent sitting across them, the tension pressed down heavily on your chest. Now that she spoke, you couldn’t help but glance at your father, searching his face for any hint of emotion. But his expression was unreadable as always— calm and composed as he listened to your mother’s sweet voice.

There was a faint smile on her face as she set her knife and fork down on her plate. “Cynthia called first thing this morning, and not out of concern, I’m sure. She wanted to know if the rumors she’d heard were true…” she trailed off, the sweetness dripping from her mouth contrasted with the coldness of her eyes. “That my daughter had been arrested. At a frat party.”

The clinking of silverware against china was the only sound left in the dining room. Through the tall windows, the morning sun filtered, flooding the room with a faint, golden glow. Everything was set perfectly as you always remembered— freshly brewed coffee in delicate cups, pastries neatly stacked on a silver platter, and fruit arranged in pristine order on elegant porcelain plates. 

And you sat there, eyes downcast, pushing your scrambled eggs around on your plate, unable to bring yourself to take another bite. 

“She was very polite about it, of course,” Mother dear continued, her voice as smooth as Italian silk, “But I could hear it in her tone— the faux concern, the curiosity for the gossip. My friends will be buzzing about this for weeks. Oh, did you hear what happened to her daughter? Arrested for assaulting a Teacher’s Aide, that poor woman.” She mimicked them with a faint, elegant smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

You urged yourself to stay quiet. What could you even say to make this better?

“How delightful it will be for them to have such fresh material to gossip about. By the time I arrive today, I’m sure the whole country club already knows what happened. Can you imagine the whispers?” She raised one of her delicate eyebrows, her lips pursed.

Your father sipped his coffee slowly, the lines of his face set in that stoic, unreadable expression he’s mastered over the years. Your cheeks burned with shame. You cleared your throat as the words refused to come out, your eyes fixed on the table as the embarrassment and regret clawed at you.

“I didn’t…” you finally found your voice, though it was weak, trembling. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, Mom. It was just—”

“A prank?” your mother cut you off, humming sarcastically. “That’s what you told us earlier at the police station, remember? A prank. Do you think that makes it better? Do you think the chancellor or our family friends care that it was just a prank?”

You swallowed hard, unable to meet her gaze.

“No.”

“Of course not, you stupid girl. Because it doesn’t matter why you did it. All that matters is the outcome. The damage is done.”

The events of last night loomed in the air— your arrest at the frat party, the flashing lights, the crowd of onlookers recording everything. You can still feel the cold metal of the handcuffs and how it harshly bit on your skin, the sting of the police officers’ loud voices, and worst of all, the cameras. Those fucking cameras. Although you haven’t got the courage to check your phone yet, you know those videos are out there now, circulating the internet with your name being dragged around by everyone in the Law Department who knew who you were.

“The scandal you’ve caused…” Your stomach turned, the humiliation hitting you all over again as your mother ranted relentlessly. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to wake up to ten missed calls from women at the country club, all of them pretending to be concerned, but really just salivating at the chance to gossip about how my daughter was arrested at some filthy frat party? What in the world were you doing in that dirty place, anyway? I was certain I raised you with a better taste than that.”

Your mother placed her napkin on the table with almost graceful precision, but you could tell she was holding herself back from losing her composure, holding herself back from the storm of anger that was simmering just beneath the surface.

“I just thought- I thought it was a chance to… meet people and socialize. It’s my first semester and you always tell me the importance of building connec–”

“With people of value. I didn’t mean in a rathole, did I?”

You pursed your lips. “Most of them are family acquaintances, Mom.”

“It didn’t occur to you that must be the reason why they’re only acquaintances?” Your mother’s tone remained deceptively soft, almost pleasant, as she continued. “That you don’t meet those people in charity nights or country clubs because they hang out in dirty, frat houses?”

“But Dad is part of a frat in Law School, Mom. It’s one of the ways to build connections inside the academe. Some professors are even part of those frats. It has perks—”

“And did your father also tell you to crack open someone’s skull in the middle of the party?”

“N-no…”

“That’s what I thought,” she smiled sweetly.

Your throat tightened, the shame creeping up inside you, wrapping itself around your chest until it was hard to breathe. No matter how you don’t agree with her words, even when you want so badly to defend yourself, at the end of the day, you know you’re still wrong.

“I’m sorry, Mom. It was just a lapse of judgement.”

“Is that what you call it?” she sounded amused as she echoed the words you used. “Because to me, it seems like you didn’t even use your brain. How would it be a lapse of judgment?”

You didn’t answer— you couldn’t. You’re fully aware that no amount of explanation would even justify what happened.

It was intended as a stupid joke, a harmless prank—something to rile up the frat boys and mess with the Teacher’s Aide who always gave you a hard time. He was a prick. Always acting pretentious and condescending in class, always shaming you during recitation. So you and a couple of your friends thought it’d be funny to mess with him. You had gotten the idea to stage a scene at the party— just a small “accident” involving him that would get everyone to whisper about him for weeks. 

You didn’t think it through.

No one did.

The prank backfired spectacularly. It was supposed to be harmless— just a spill of paint and a couple of embarrassing photos to post on the University board— but ended up with the man slipping and hitting his head hard on the corner of a table. The frat house had erupted into chaos after that, drunk people shouting, running around, and the guy lying there unconscious with a concerning amount of blood pooling on the floor.

That’s when someone must’ve called the cops.

Your father cleared his throat. “We’ve done our best to protect you from consequences in the past, sweetheart,” he began, his voice low but steady, the kind of tone that demanded your full attention. “But this— this isn’t something we can simply sweep under the rug.”

“You’ve embarrassed us, is what he’s saying,” your mother scoffed lightly, rolling her eyes at your father. “The truth is, you’ve embarrassed not only yourself but our family. Tell me, how are we supposed to face everyone? The people in your father’s work? My friends in the country club?”

You fell silent with her question. You’ve heard it all before— how important the family’s image is, how every action you take isn’t just your own, but a reflection of them. It was a lesson you’ve been taught since you were a child, but now, sitting here in the aftermath of your arrest, it felt heavier than ever.

“And the pictures,” your mother continued, her voice cutting through your thoughts again. “The videos. Did you think about that? How those images are going to be plastered all over social media for everyone to see? Your cheap dress? Your behavior? Do you even care how many of our friends’ children see them? I can only imagine the things they’ll say behind your back.”

Your father set his coffee down. His face was calm, but the disappointment in his eyes was unmistakable, and it made you want to shrink into yourself. 

“I want you to realize how serious this is, sweetheart,” he said after a deep sigh, his voice never rising, but somehow becoming even more terrifying in its restraint. “It’s not just the scandal you’ve brought on this family, though that in itself is bad enough. It’s the fact that the university’s TA, the man you assaulted—and don’t tell me it wasn’t serious because we’ve heard the details— he’s considering filing a lawsuit against you.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach. The word ‘lawsuit’ sent a chill down your spine. You knew things were bad, but you hadn’t fully processed that it could come to this. The prank had gone wrong—horribly so—but you hadn’t truly considered that it could escalate into something this big. The thought of legal action, of your parents being dragged into court over something you did…

Your mother inhaled slowly. Although she doesn’t raise her voice, each word cuts deeper than if she had screamed. “We’ll be dragged through the mud. And what then? What happens to our reputation? To your future?”

You ignored the fact that, based on her words, your reputation is much more important than your future. Or whatever you feel at the moment.

You could barely breathe as the conversation went on. You gripped the edge of your chair, trying to steady yourself, but it felt like the ground beneath you was crumbling away. 

“I didn’t mean it. I’m really- I’m so sorry…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, shaking.

“That doesn’t matter,” your father said. “Intent doesn’t minimize consequences. And now, we’re facing a very real possibility that you could be expelled, sued, and publicly humiliated all at once.”

The walls felt as if they were closing in around you.

Your mother’s eyes narrowed as she continued. “And then there’s the matter of money. Do you have any idea how much it will cost us to make this go away? To keep your record clean, to keep you in Law School after almost killing someone?” She leaned forward slightly, her voice low and cutting. “Do you even realize how selfish and stupid you’ve been?”

You swallowed hard. Expulsion. A permanent mark on your academic record. Your future— everything you’ve worked for— now hangs in the balance because of one reckless night.

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away, refusing to cry in front of them. You feel small and ashamed, under the weight of everything that’s about to come crashing down on you. But then, you have no one else to blame but yourself.

Your father heaved another deep sigh. “We’ll need to contact our lawyer,” he said calmly, his mind already moving to control the damage. “We’ll have to negotiate with the university board and the TA. I already set a meeting with the chancellor. He’s an old friend, let’s just hope he will help us.”

You nodded numbly, the shame and guilt overwhelming you. The image of your mother at the country club, having to endure the whispers and judgemental looks, the thought of your father having to navigate meetings with lawyers and school administrators to clean up the mess you’ve made was so shameful to think about.

Your mother rose from her seat with a graceful composure. “Your father and I will fix this,” she said one last time, her voice clipped and emotionless. “But this will be the last time, I warn you. You’ve embarrassed us enough.”

Without another glance in your direction, she left the room, her heels clicking softly against the marble floor. Your father followed, quieter but no less distant, leaving you alone at the table.

“We’ll talk more about this later,” was all he said.

The silence that followed was deafening. You could feel your house helpers’ gaze focused on you, watching you from the corner in which they all stand. You felt sick, not only because of the hangover but because it felt like the entire world had shifted beneath you, and you were left to deal with the wreckage.

“Miss? Are you awake?”

The knock on your door pulled you from sleep. You stirred in bed, your eyes heavy. There was a dull ache pounding in your head from all the crying you’d done. And with heavy feeling, you rolled over, blinking against the fading evening light that seeped through the curtains, trying to make sense of the knock.

It came again, a little louder this time. You pushed yourself up on your elbows just as the door creaked open, revealing the familiar figure of your family’s longtime maid. She was standing by the front door, her expression polite, her eyes reflecting a hint of sympathy she was trying to hide.

“Miss,” she repeated softly, “your parents have requested you come down for dinner.”

You rubbed your eyes and sat up fully. “Dinner?” your voice was scratchy as you mumbled.

“Yes, miss,” she replied, stepping slightly into the room. “Your parents have a guest tonight. It’s… important that you join them.”

Something in her tone caught your attention. A guest. You wonder who could it be. Though it was most likely just your family lawyer joining you for dinner. Your father did say you would talk about the situation later.

So you gave her a polite nod and swung your legs over the side of the bed. “Alright,” you said quietly, already feeling the knot of anxiety tightening in your stomach. The last thing you want to do is face them again— especially over dinner— but you know there’s no avoiding it.

The maid disappeared quietly down the hall as you stood, your legs still shaky beneath you. You glance at yourself in the full-body mirror, grimacing at your reflection. Your hair was a mess, your eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying. You tried to fix yourself up as best as you could, smoothing down your hair and splashing some cold water on your face to wake yourself up. But no matter how much you try to pull yourself together, the heaviness still loomed over your shoulders.

You made your way down the staircase, the smell of dinner wafting through the house. The soft murmur of voices reached your ears as you near the dining room— your parents, speaking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out the words, but you picked up the urgency of their conversation that made you pause just outside the doorway.

You closed your eyes for a moment, preparing yourself, before stepping into the room.

The first thing you noticed was that your parents aren’t alone. Seated at the table with them, in the same spot he always sat at during family dinners so long ago… was Aaron. His presence was like a jolt of electricity, sending your heart skipping in your chest for a split second before it settled into an uneasy rhythm.

It has been so long since you last saw him— years, really. He’d been a constant figure in your life growing up, your father’s best friend since college. He’d been older than you by quite a bit, of course, but back then, you’d always been slightly captivated by him— his quiet intelligence, his boisterous laughter, the way he seemed to understand the world in ways you couldn’t yet grasp. It was endearing. He always had this presence about him, something solid and unshakeable, like he was the person you wanted around when things fell apart.

But now, sitting there at the dining table, he looked different— older, yes, but in a way that’s more refined. His hair was shorter than you remember, clean cut, dark brown with threads of silver creeping in at his temples, and his jawline was sharper, with the beginnings of stubble framing his mouth. He was wearing a tailored suit, the fabric hugging his broad shoulders, the crisp white collar open at his throat, his tie undone as if he’d just come from a long day at work. 

Then there’s the intensity to his eyes. His expression was serious, his lips pressed into a thoughtful line as he listened to your parents talk.

As you step further into the room, Aaron’s gaze lifted, and for a moment, his eyes locked with yours. Your breath got caught right in your throat. 

“Aaron,” your father said formally, cutting into the silence as he noticed you standing there. “You remember my daughter.”

Aaron’s lips twitched into a slight smile, but it was fleeting. “Of course,” he said, his voice deep and even. “It’s been a while.”

You swallowed hard, feeling suddenly self-conscious under his gaze. You force yourself to walk further into the room, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. “Hi, Aaron,” just a short greeting, your voice shaky– that’s all you had managed.

Your mother glanced at you. “Come sit down,” she said, gesturing to the empty seat across from Aaron. “We were just discussing the situation.”

Your stomach churned in shame. The situation. You know exactly what they’re talking about. And how embarrassing it was.

You took your seat, your hands trembling slightly as you settled into the chair. You focused yourself on a maid filling your glass with water, thanking her promptly and watching her walk away.

“Your father and I,” your mother started, effectively catching your attention, “were just going over the legal implications of what happened at the university.”

You glanced at your father, unsure of what to say. You know how grave the situation was, but seeing Aaron here, sitting with your parents as they calmly discuss your future as if it were some business negotiation, makes you want to crawl out of your skin and disappear forever.

“And Aaron’s here because?” You frowned, your voice sounded sarcastic without intending to. “We already have a family lawyer. Do we really need to drag him into this?”

Your father’s gaze sharpened just a bit. “Aaron has been a trusted friend of the family for years. Given the severity of your circumstances, we thought his experience would be invaluable.”

“Experience?” You let out a small, incredulous laugh, folding your arms across your chest. “He’s an FBI agent, Dad, not my defense attorney. This isn’t a federal case. It’s just a stupid prank gone wrong. I don’t see why we need to make this a whole ‘bring in the cavalry’ thing.” You glanced back at Aaron. “And I’m sure he’s got more important things to do than babysit me.”

Aaron leaned back slightly in his chair, his voice calm but firm when he spoke. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t think this was serious.” His hazel eyes locked onto yours, and there was a weight to his words that made your earlier sarcasm feel childish and misplaced. “There’s a chance the university will pursue disciplinary action against you. But there’s also the matter of the TA. His injuries are documented, and he has every right to file charges.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words died on your tongue. The potential lawsuit. The school hearing. Your entire future balancing on the edge of a knife. Deep down, you know he’s right, but the idea of Aaron being here, so entrenched in this mess, felt too personal— too invasive. Why on Earth would you want him here?

You’re used to your parents managing everything, controlling every detail of your life, but Aaron? It was different.

Your father cleared his throat. “He’s just offering legal advice and some advice on how we can keep this from spiraling any further.”

“I appreciate the help,” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, your voice laced with a slight edge of stubbornness, “but I don’t need to be micromanaged by a fed. I’m perfectly capable of dealing with this.”

Your mother raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow. “And what exactly do you plan to do? Handle it on your own? When all you did all day is lock yourself in your room and cry? Is that your idea of handling problems?”

You bit back the urge to say, ‘Yes, so what?’

The tension in the room thickened as your mother’s words silenced you. You felt the familiar heat of frustration creeping up your neck. It’s the same old story— no matter what, they always think you need to be rescued, that you’re not capable of handling your own life. That all you could do was cry, although that was exactly what you did.

Aaron, however, remained calm, his gaze never wavering from yours. “No one’s saying you’re not capable,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But this is a situation that’s already out of your control. There are legal repercussions, reputational damage, and the possibility of expulsion. Ignoring it or downplaying it won’t make it go away.”

His tone was steady, not condescending, but the message was clear: Whether you like it or not, this is bigger than you. So listen to me, little girl.

You bit the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to snap back at him. But instead, you exhaled slowly, trying to tamp down the frustration bubbling up inside you. “Fine,” you voice was tight as you spoke. “But I still don’t understand why Aaron needs to be involved. We can handle this with our own lawyer.”

Your mother interjected with an eye roll. “Aaron is a friend, and I don’t think you’re in much position to say who can help us and who can’t.” She paused and stared at you with that poised, assessing gaze she always has. “I suggest you listen to him.”

“And if I don’t?”

You almost flinched when you heard the sharp sound of your father’s sigh. “I’m too tired to deal with this attitude. Don’t push my button. I will send you to your Grandma if you don’t shut your damn mouth.”

The room fell into a heavy silence. You glanced at Aaron again, feeling a flicker of something you can’t quite place. He was watching you carefully. And for a brief moment, you felt like you were back to being that younger version of yourself, looking up to him, admiring him, thinking he had all the answers, thinking he could fix everything.

But now, everything feels different. When you’re the problem he’s been called in to fix.

“Alright,” you finally said, the fight going out of you as the reality of the situation set in. “Whatever.”

Aaron nodded slightly, his expression softening just a touch, and didn’t say anything else.

Later that evening, you have been called to your father’s office. The dim light casted long shadows over the dark wood paneling and the rows of bookshelves lining the walls. You’ve always thought of this room as intimidating, with all the thick books and deep leather armchairs, and the old oak desk, but tonight you feel even more antsy.

You were perched on the edge of the sofa, your legs stretched out in front of you, painting your toenails with a level of focus that belies how much your mind was actually racing. You needed something to do with your hands, something to distract yourself from the fact that you were alone in the room with Aaron. 

The smell of polish hangs faintly in the air. You felt the hem of your nightdress ride up your thighs as you leaned forward slightly to get a better angle on your toes.

And from your seat, you can hear the faint sound of the videos Aaron was busy watching.

He sat across from you in one of the large armchairs, his back straight, his attention narrowed down on the laptop balanced on his knees. He was watching video clips and scrolling through photos from the night of the frat party. You’ve caught glimpses of the screen ealier, the images of yourself in that tight, short dress flashing by, a reminder of just how badly things have spiraled out of control.

You could feel his presence like a heat in the room, a steady pressure that makes it hard to breathe. Every now and then, his gaze shifted from the screen to you, but it was subtle, almost unnoticeable if you weren’t so hyper-aware of him. You don’t have to look up to know when his eyes are on you; you can feel it in the way your skin tingled, the way your heart skipped a beat.

He cleared his throat eventually, the sound breaking the heavy silence. “These videos,” he started, his voice low and gruff, “are all over social media. It’s worse than I thought.”

You paused mid-stroke, the small brush hovering over your toe, your pulse quickening at the seriousness in his tone. You glanced up at him, trying to gauge his expression. He addressed you in a formal manner. But still, there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you couldn’t name— something that made your stomach flutter in a way you’d rather ignore.

“Yeah, well,” you mumbled, turning your attention back to your nails, “I guess that’s what happens when everyone has a phone in their hand these days.”

Aaron didn’t respond immediately. You heard the faint clicking as he scrolled through more images, the silence stretching on between you. The weight of his scrutiny, even if it was just on a screen, made you squirm slightly in your seat. 

You shifted your position, the movement causing your nightdress to ride up even more, the silky fabric sliding higher up your thighs.

You caught a brief flicker of movement from the corner of your eye— his gaze dropping to your legs, lingering for just a second longer than necessary before he quickly looked back at the screen. It was so quick, so subtle, that you almost convinced yourself you imagined it. But your heart did that traitorous little skip again, and you had to force yourself to focus on what you were doing, so you don’t dwell on it.

“This isn’t going to go away on its own,” Aaron said again after a beat of silence, as if he was choosing his words with great care. “The videos, the pictures—they’re everywhere. The university is likely to use them as evidence if they pursue disciplinary action.”

You placed the nail polish brush back in the bottle, twisting it shut with a sharp click. “So what?” you asked, trying to sound nonchalant, but the tremor in your voice betrayed you. “We already knew it was bad.”

“It’s worse,” he pressed, his eyes lifting to meet yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch. “And I’m not just talking about the university. This could get very public, very fast. You need to understand what that means.”

You bristled at his words, feeling a flare of defensiveness rise up. “I get it, okay? I know I screwed up. I’m not stupid. But we don’t need to keep going over it.” You shifted again, fanning your hand over the wet nail polish, the nightdress inching up higher as you moved, exposing more of your skin.

This time, you didn’t miss the way Aaron’s eyes darted to the fabric as it rode up, his gaze lingering before he caught himself and quickly looked away, his jaw tightening slightly. There was something in his expression now, something that was not just concern or frustration.

You felt a strange mix of emotions— embarrassment, maybe, or something closer to satisfaction— at catching him off guard, at seeing that brief lapse in his composure. He’d always been so steady, so in control, and there was a part of you that was curious, maybe even a little thrilled, to see that control waver even only for a second.

“Are you going to keep staring at those videos all night? Or are we actually going to talk about something useful?”

Aaron’s eyes snapped back to yours, his expression hardening even more. “This is useful,” he replied evenly, though his voice is a bit more clipped now. “The more we understand about what’s out there, the better we can prepare for what’s coming.”

You leaned back slightly, stretching your legs out and letting the nightdress fall naturally over your thighs. “I think we both know what’s coming,” your tone edged with resignation. “I’m going to be dragged through the mud, and my parents are going to do everything they can to make it disappear. That’s how this always goes.”

Aaron’s gaze darkened, and he set the laptop aside, leaning forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. “Is that what you think this is?” he said quietly, but firmly. “You’re not a kid anymore, and this isn’t just about your parents cleaning up a mess. This is about your future. If this ends up in a court, your future will be at stake.”

There was something strange with the way he said it. You’re not a kid anymore. And you dropped your eyes, suddenly feeling very exposed— not just because of the nightdress, but because of everything you’ve been trying so hard to brush off.

“Why do you care so much, anyway? This is none of your business.”

For a moment, he was silent, and you wondered whether that was too much and you crossed a line. But then, he suddenly said, “Forget it. You’re pretty much the same kid I knew. I thought you’d be able to handle this with maturity, but obviously I’m wrong.”

Obviously.

You felt a surge of anger with that. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You’re still the same spoiled and whiny child from before.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief and offense. You’re not sure you followed everything he said after that. Because in the back of your mind, all you wondered about is what goes on in his brain when he looks at you with those dark, piercing eyes.

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[sweethearts4you]

sick cuddles | l. Williamson x teen!reader

(just pretend youre the dog haha)

summary: you go to training sick, leah takes care of you

(i'm not that good at summaries)

a/n: hi guys!! this is my very first time writing any form of story outside of school, so some feedback and constructive criticism is appreciated! also keep in mind that i don't know anything about pro footballers schedules, so i'm just guessing. english isn't my first language so please keep that in mind <3

1064 words

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After snoozing your alarm for the seventh time you finally decided to wake up. It felt like you had woken up from the dead, you had the most dreadful headache ever and your throat was so sore, it felt like there was a literal porcupine inside your throat. You tiredly reached for your phone to check the time, and it read 09.52 “OH SHIT, I'M LATE, LEAH’S GOING TO KILL ME!” you exclaimed, which you quickly regretted once you burst out into a coughing fit.

-

When you first joined Arsenal at 16 years old, it was Leah who first took you under her wing. She let you live with her until you found an apartment you could move into, despite her protests of you being too young to live alone you decided to move. The first four months of you living there Leah always came over to check on you, she would have kept doing it if you hadn't complained about it all the time. She agreed to stop coming over, only if you would call her immediately if something happened.

-

You quickly dressed yourself and made some toast, and ran out the door. It was 10.14 when you finally got to the arsenal training centre. Luckily for you the girls didn't notice you coming in, since they were busy cleaning up breakfast. “Hey y/n! Where have you been? I didn’t see you coming in earlier” Beth asked you once she saw you. “Oh, i was just… sitting over there” you say awkwardly as you waved your hand to a random area. “Weird, anyways..” she said as she started rambling on about Myle and how cute she is. You were honestly not paying attention and just throwing in a random mhm and awe once in a while. You felt someone looking at you, so you looked around a bit, until you saw Leah looking intensely at you as if she was trying to figure something out. 

Leah felt like something was a little off with you, your voice was a little hoarse and you looked a little pale. She made a mental note to keep an eye on you throughout training. Beth was still rambling on about Myle and showing you pictures of her, until Leah came and interrupted “Y/N come on you’re going to be late”,  “Okayy” you sighed. 

You were walking to the pitch with Leah until you abruptly stopped as a wave of dizziness came over you, “Hey, are you alright? What happened? She asked as she put her arm around to steady you. “Yeah, I just suddenly got a little dizzy, but it's alright” you responded. Leah brushed it off, knowing you wouldn't tell her anyways.

-

You were trying to dribble the ball past Katie, until Katie went in for a tackle, which was 100% clean, but since you were sick and a little unstable you fell over onto the grass, face down. “Ey, mate you good?” Katie asked you, “Yea.. just give me second” you groaned. “Hey! What's going on?” You heard Leah yell. “I don’t know!” Katie said defensively. You heard Leah running over, and when she got to you, you felt her bend over and put a hand on your back, “Hey kid, what's wrong? Where does it hurt?” she asked softly, “My head” you whispered in a barely audible voice. “Okay” she said worriedly, she put her hand on your head, “Jesus christ, you're burning up!” she said, sounding quite distressed. She lifted you up from the ground, “Alright good girl, let’s get you inside. Okay?” Leah said softly, as she was basically carrying you, as you were barely able to stand on your own. “Okay” you mumbled, not really paying attention to what she was saying because of how much your head was pounding.

-

“She has a high fever, and is quite dehydrated. She can't train for the rest of the week and she needs lots of rest and make sure she drinks enough water..” the doctor said. “Alright, you hear that bub. Lots of rest and water” she said, while rubbing your back.

By the time you were done at the doctor, training was over. “Y/n/n training is over so i'm going to drive us to mine, okay?” Leah said. “Yeah, okay..” you said tiredly. You were in the backseat while Leah was driving. Every once in a while Leah glanced back to see how you were doing, when she looked back at you she smiled fondly at the sight of you sound asleep leaning against the window. When you made it home you were still asleep so Leah carried you inside deciding that you needed the rest. When you made it inside Leah put you softly down onto the couch, so she could keep an eye on you while she made food.

“Hey sweets wake up, I made your favourite pasta.” she whispered softly, while rubbing your back. “Mmm okay” you mumbled half asleep. After you and Leah finished eating, she took the plates and started washing them. “Thanks for the Le, it actually tasted good��� you joked in your hoarse voice, “Ha ha” she said sarcastically, just as you were about to laugh you burst out into a coughing fit. Leah turned around alarmed, “Hey, hey, it's okay” she said comfortingly while she rubbed your back. Once you had settled down, she went to get something. When she came back you saw her carrying a cup of tea, “Here, it's tea for your throat”, “Thanks Leah” you mumbled.

Once you had finished your tea, you yawned and rubbed your eyes, “Let's get you to bed, alright?” Leah said, in which you just hummed in reply. You walked into the bedroom and changed into the clothes Leah lent to you, which was an old Arsenal hoodie and a pair of pyjama shorts. “Le, snuggles please?” you asked shyly when you were done changing, “Alright bub, i'm just going to change then i'll be back” she said chuckling. When she was done changing you both laid down in bed, with you laying against Leah with your head in her crook of her shoulder, and Leah hugging you while tracing aimlessly around your back. Just like you guys used to do after you had a nightmare and came into her room, when you lived together. 

Shortly after you were sound asleep in her arms.

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hope you guys enjoyed! a comment or some feedback would be greatly appreciated <3