#rant about your little guys who live in your brain

[vianerds]

Tell me about your OCs… I wanna know about your special blorbos

[headlinerkwan]

something new - j.ww

pairing: jeon wonwoo x gn!reader

genre: university!au, e2l, academic rivals to lovers, featuring svt as your friend group, angst, fluff, suggestive - MDNI!!

summary: you and wonwoo have been rivals since the first day you met, everything he did irritated you to no end, and yet, you couldn't escape him and, at a certain point, maybe you didn't want to.

warnings: swearing, alcohol, no one knows how to communicate lol, kissing, suggestive

wc: 5.7k

a/n: wonwoo academic rival bc i love him being all nerdy n shit. i really enjoyed writing this so let me know what you think + if you have any requests for some new fics!! ฅ ฅ

You stare down at your paper, illegible and scattered with doodles and a sharp exhale falls from your lips. Tapping your pen against the table, you wonder how the hell you’re going to pass this surprise exam - a surprise for you at least, apparently telling you must have slipped everyone else’s mind. Someone taps your shoulder lightly, bringing you out of your spiral. You turn to meet the eyes of the stranger sat beside you, his jet black hair is pushed roughly out of his face, allowing you to see his soft dark eyes peer down at you. 

You raise a questioning eyebrow at him, clueless as to why he would be trying to get your attention in the middle of an exam. He mouths the word ‘pen’ in response, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, his eyes looking at you with pure desperation.  Looking at his desk, you notice the pen next to his hand is broken. You turn away briefly and watch as he lets out a breath of relief and adorns a grateful smile once you appear with a spare pen for him to use. 

It seems like the bell rings almost immediately once you return your focus to your exam paper - shit. Now you’re definitely not passing. The bell sounds vaguely familiar as it continues to ricochet through you, you rack your brain trying to remember where you’ve heard the sound before… oh, it’s your alarm clock. Oh! It’s your alarm clock! 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Your eyes snap open as you sit up in bed to turn off the irritating tune that your clock had been emitting for god knows how long. It was the first day of the semester, of course you had woken up twenty minutes behind schedule after a cliche ‘first-day-of-school’ dream, what else could you expect?

Arriving at your first class of the day, you find your friend Seungkwan sat strategically in the corner of the semester hall - just far away enough to avoid the risk of being called upon by the professor. You take a seat next to Seungkwan and listen as he begins to rant about his commute. You and Seungkwan have been friends since Freshman year after getting paired up for a group project. Originally, you were fearful that you wouldn’t get along, on the surface you were like chalk and cheese, but you find now that Seungkwan balances you out just right. His bold extrovertism has pushed you to be a little less timid, to actually live and, you like to think that you’ve mellowed him about a bit too.  You wouldn’t mind listening to Seungkwan talk and joke around all day, that’s when he’s happiest so, naturally, you are too. 

Your conversation with Seungkwan comes to stop as both of your attention gets drawn to a loud racket growing a few rows behind you. You follow the noise to find loveable class clowns Soonyoung, Mingyu, and Seokmin. 

“Ah, it's just Soonyoung, so anyways…” Seungkwan turns back to his laptop and continues expressing his somewhat irrational love of drive-thrus . You, however, are still watching your classmates, unable to tear your eyes away from one of them, his dark slightly nerdy features captivating you. 

“Kwan,” you murmur, “Who’s the guy next to Seokmin?”

Seungkwan hums, satisfied, “I was waiting for you to say something, always so nosy.”

You huff gently, knowing well enough that there’s no point in arguing with him, “So?””

“Jeon Wonwoo. Just transferred for his last year I guess.”

“Huh weird, I could've sworn I’ve seen him before.”

Your friend scoffs jokingly,  “In your dreams bro.” 

You sigh again, resting your head on the desk sulkily.  ‘In your dreams’, Seungkwan’s words echo. Wait… Is he… your head whips around to glance at the mysterious man again. No fucking way… Jeon Wonwoo is literally the guy from your dreams. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

If you had known back then how much you would grow to dislike Wonwoo, you never would have commented on his good looks that first day but, you guess you can’t really blame yourself for not knowing how much of a dick he was. Since you had met, you had tried, maybe too hard, to figure out what you had done to make him treat you the way that he did. Over the weeks you have watched him form bonds with everyone in your class - especially your friends, and you saw how his smile fell and laughter stopped as soon as you made your presence known. It was if you had physically attacked him, the way that his eyes immediately dropped to the floor once you came into view. The thing that annoyed you the most about Jeon Wonwoo though, more than the unexplained icing out, was his brain. 

You don’t like to brag but you pride yourself on your intelligence, especially in academia. You had worked hard to reach the place you were in now, throwing away your teenage years in favor of ensuring a happy and successful future for yourself. Because of this, you work hard to make sure you’re at the top of the list whenever your exam results are released - improving upon yourself and being the best of the best,  that’s what you strive for. So of course, it came as an infuriating shock when Wonwoo knocked you out of the top spot, that smug look on his face and the glimmer in his eyes as he walked past  you that day was something you couldn’t get out of your head. No matter how hard you tried, day and night, the only thing on your mind was Wonwoo and how to beat him.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Ok, what can you tell me about Wonwoo?” you are sitting in your campus cafe, your best friend Seungkwan sits across from you as you mindlessly stir your coffee. 

“Why do you always assume I have information on everyone?”

“Because you always do, my favorite gossip.” you reply, buttering him up in hope he’ll give you something, anything. 

“What’s your business with him anyways? Oh…” he gasps “you have a little campus crush don’t you?  That’s why you’re so off around him.” 

“Don’t go spreading false information, Boo Seungkwan, he’s the one who gets cold and quiet when I’m around. Besides, no sleeping with the enemy.”

“He’s the enemy now? Hot.” 

You scoff gently at his comment, rolling your eyes “Just tell me what you know”,  you say laughing. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

As time goes on, nothing much changes between you and Wonwoo. He becomes a fixture within your friendship group with the boys taking him under their wing and as he begins to pop up in more areas of your life, you learn more about him. You learn about his love for video games and cats, you learn he’s a great listener but can speak for the country when he’s passionate about something. You learn he’s funny and even smarter than you thought. It’s annoying that you could imagine actually being friends with him if he was just nice, you admit you might be able to understand the crowd of girls that follow him around aimlessly if he wasn’t such an asshole. Because, despite him joining your friendship group and you - unwillingly - spending more time around him, he still acted so coldly towards you, no matter how nice you were to him, he never faltered. 

“Split into groups of six, no more, no less and create a presentation applying your chosen theorem to the 21st century.” your professor orders. Immediately the students around you begin to migrate around the room, collecting friends for the group project. You turn to your left to find that Seungkwan is already clambering over the seats behind you to reach Seokmin, Mingyu, Soonyoung and Wonwoo - all four of them cheering on his show of athleticism. 

“Quickly guys! Come on!” the professor calls out from the front of the class. You look around to realise that you’ve waited a bit too long to choose a group for yourself. That’s when you hear your name being called and turn to find Mingyu reaching his hand out to you with that cheesy grin you just couldn’t say no to. 

“We need the class nerd on our team, c’mon!” Soonyoung calls out to you from above.

“We already have Wonwoo though?” Seungkwan remarks with a mischievous smirk. You quickly shoot him a stern, irritated look as his smile is broken by Seokmin elbowing him in the ribs for a reason you can’t quite figure out. 

A few days later, you and your friends (and Wonwoo) decide to meet at the library to brainstorm for your project. You arrive first with Seokmin and Mingyu and find a table just big enough for the six of you. Soonyoung trails along not long after and the four of you play some quiet games whilst waiting for Seungkwan and Wonwoo to arrive. You note that one of the two empty seats is positioned directly across for you whilst the other is out of view. The solution is clear, Seungkwan will sit across from you, at least then you’ll be able to focus on the assignment. 

Once the pair arrive, you attempt to signal to Kwan, strong eye contact asking him to take the chair opposite you. 

“Won, which seat do you want?” He asks the other boy, and you can’t hold back the sigh that escapes as your plan crumbles before you

“I’ll take this one, the lighting’s better.” Wonwoo replies, making brief eye contact with you before pulling out the chair with a shy smirk on his face. 

…what was that about? And when did he get so cocky? 

Soonyoung clears his throat, breaking the awkward silence that suddenly fell over the group and you thank God that he’s here to take the attention off of your exchange with Wonwoo and prompt you to actually start working on the project. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Soon enough, you find yourself in a quiet bar across town on a Thursday night. Following your friends’ advice you decide to accept your coworker’s invitation to grab drinks. You tell yourself why not? He’s nice enough, attractive and funny, sometimes anyways. Plus you haven’t got much else going on in the love department - no harm, no foul. 

After half an hour or so of pleasant small talk, you leave the booth and head towards the bar to order another drink. As you trudge across the sticky floor you are stopped in your tracks as a man steps in front of you, blocking you from reaching your destination. 

“Excuse me,” you begin, attempting to manoeuvre around him.

“You shouldn’t be with him.” the man says. 

“Excuse me?” you repeat, this time in disbelief. 

“You heard me.” he says, quieter this time. You lift your head to get a proper look at the stranger’s face.

“Of course you’re here.” you scoff. You push past him, shaking your head as you reach the bar. He follows, not giving up. 

“You don’t suit each other.” 

You laugh, God, he’s so infuriating, who does he think he is?

“Oh please, Wonwoo, like you know the slightest thing about me.”

“Actually I-”

Just then your ‘date’ appears, “Is everything ok?” He asks with a slightly concerned look. 

“Yeah! Just a… classmate.” A false happiness lines your voice.

 “Come on, let's head back to the table.” you say, turning your back on Wonwoo who watches on with a solemn expression.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

Not long after that, you find yourself at the library with your friends almost every day, grinding to get your project completed. You and Wonwoo haven’t spoken about the night at the bar, not that he speaks to you usually anyways. Instead though, you begin to catch him looking at you more and more often, his gaze burning into you, making you heat up and, most importantly distracting you from your work. 

“What’s going on with you and Wonwoo then?” Seungkwan asks one day whilst you do a snack run for the rest of the group.

“What?” you reply, stopping where you are, astonished. 

“Just saying, he can’t keep his eyes off of you.” 

“He’s trying to sabotage me or something.” 

“...Why would he do that? Y’know we’re graded as a group right?” He says, baffled. 

“Whatever.” you reply, turning into the next aisle, fed up of even thinking about Wonwoo, never mind talking about the man. 

Returning to your friends, they circle you like vultures, picking out they’re snacks. It’s a chaotic free for all and you’re left with a candy bar and some chips. Wonwoo stands patiently whilst the others rob you blind so, once the others return to their seats you approach him quietly, avoiding eye contact and place the chips in front of him. He mutters a small “thank you” and smiles gratefully, watching again as you return to your work. Now he’s just being weird, you think to yourself. You can’t help but be curious about what he’s plotting. 

At the end of the study session, the boys decide to head to the bar to reward themselves. 

“Y/N, you coming?” Mingyu asks.

“I’m good, thanks though!” you reply with a soft smile, finding a quiet night watching Netflix to be a bit more appealing today. 

Your friends leave before you, saying goodbye whilst you pack up your stuff. As you shove your laptop into your bag, you can feel someone’s eyes on you and your face begins to heat up at your suspicion. 

“Wonwoo! Hurry up!” you hear Soonyoung whine. 

“Right, sorry.” 

You look up just quick enough to catch him turning away from you and running to meet with the rest of the group. 

Huh, weird. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

That weekend, your phone buzzes with a string of texts from Mingyu.

Mingyu: Wanna come over and play video games?

Mingyu: (Say yes)

Mingyu: Pleaseee, I’m so bored :) 

You’ve worked fucking hard recently and couldn’t think of a better way to end the week than by playing nostalgic video games with one of your closest friends

Y/N: Don't even WORRY, I’m omw

You respond quickly, pulling a bleach-stained hoodie on and heading for the door. 

You’re sat on the floor next to Mingyu in front of his TV. The room is dead silent, spare some trash talk from the both of you as you channel all of your focus on Mario Kart. As a result, neither of you notice Wonwoo coming in to watch your fierce competition. 

You swear you see your life flash before your eyes when he, watching the screen intently, mumbles “Be careful. Blue shell coming your way.”

His sudden words do nothing but scare the living shit out of you and make you crash into a wall. 

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, heart beating rapidly after his jumpscare, “What the fuck are you doing here?”

He looks at you blankly, taken aback by your overreaction, “Oh…uh… I live here.” 

You turn to Mingyu who confirms with his lips pressed together in an awkward smile. 

“Oh. Sorry. You just scared me a bit, my bad.” 

He chuckles quietly in response before walking over to the kitchen and leaving the two of you to finish your race (which you still win, despite Wonwoo’s meddling.) A handful of races later, Mingyu’s phone buzzes, ushering him to go and collect the takeout you had ordered. Standing up, he grabs his jacket and keys but doesn’t dare leave before messing with you more than he already has. 

“Wonwoo?” He calls with a mischievous grin, “Come play instead of me whilst I go get the food!” 

Wonwoo hums a response as he moves to sit down next to you whilst you shoot death glares at your friend, who simply mouths ‘be nice’ before slamming the door behind him. 

He picks up Mingyu’s controller and hovers over ‘Wario’s Gold Mine’. 

“What are you doing?”

He looks at you, confused “Uh… choosing the best map?”

You laugh, “No no, my poor Wonwoo. This is the best map.” You take the remote from him and select ‘Koopa Cape’. 

“Ooh, you’re so wrong.” he replies playfully.

“I’m never wrong.”

“That’s true.” 

You catch yourself smiling as the race starts. Maybe you are wrong, maybe he’s not so bad. 

“Oh my god, hit me with a shell again, I swear to god Jeon Wonwoo.” you exclaim as he surpasses you for the fourth time. He laughs, nudging you gently.

“I didn’t know you were such a sore loser.” 

You look at him, forgetting about the game, “You don't know anything about me.” you say, under your breath. He turns to you, concerned.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.” 

Turning back to the screen, you find that Wonwoo has stolen first place from you - again. 

“Fuck.” you mutter, refocusing on the race, watching as a proud smile creeps onto Wonwoo’s face. 

“Wow, Y/N actually lost for once!” Mingyu declares as he returns with the food, “I guess we finally found your match.” 

“Shut up.” you bark back, rolling your eyes and leaning back against the couch. Wonwoo mutters a ‘good game’ before standing up with a smirk and leaving the room. You scoff at his slight obnoxiousness whilst Mingyu sits down beside you and begins unpacking the food. 

“Are you gonna stop sulking and go get some plates?”

“Ugh fineee” you reply jokingly before getting up. 

You’re completely lost in the kitchen, opening every cupboard in sight hoping to find some plates and cutlery.

“You good?” a voice calls from behind you. You look up to find Wonwoo leaning against the doorframe, slightly baffled by your snooping. 

“Uh…plates?”

“Ah,” he says walking towards you, you step back until you’re caught by the kitchen counter. “Just up here.” he continues, reaching behind you to grab the plates. 

He’s so close that, for the first time, you can smell his woody cologne strongly. Your heart speeds up as he places the plates down on the counter behind you, his hands resting on either side, trapping you. 

You look up at him, breathless, as he scans your face. You’re silent, drinking him in, your hands fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. He lifts his hand, brushing your hair behind your ear. 

“Can I kiss you?” he whispers against your lips. 

You can only bring yourself to nod in complete disbelief at the sudden shift between the two of you, the magnetism drawing you together. He moves in closer to you, so close you can feel his eyelashes as they flutter against your skin and his breathing grows slightly heavier. 

“Y/N, did you find them?” Mingyu calls from the other room. You’ve never moved away from a person so fast, separating yourself from Wonwoo immediately. You clear your throat, maintaining eye contact with Wonwoo, still flustered. 

“Yep sorry! Just grabbing a drink.” Thinking fast, Wonwoo hands you a can of coke.

“Can you grab me one too?” Mingyu shouts. 

You both laugh quietly as he hands you another. You nod and smile, leaving him in the kitchen and heading back to your food.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

It’s a week before you see him again, your group's last meeting before the final presentation, a chance for you to go over the final details. The meeting is generally uneventful, everyone finally focused on the task at hand. 

“I think if we switch the parts about culture and equity then it would flow better.” Wonwoo suggests.

“Hmm, I agree” you reply nonchalantly because, on this rare occasion, you actually do. 

“What the fuck was that?” Seungkwan whispers to you.

“What?”

“You never agree with him.”

“He made a good point.” you shrug, brushing off your friend’s interrogation. Looking up you catch Wonwoo smiling at you, giggling under his breath like a teenager. You have to stifle the smile that begins creeping onto your face as you watch him. 

“And that is why we believe that absurdism is an essential mindset to have in order to thrive in the modern day.” Seokmin argues, concluding your group project, finally. The six of you share reassuring nods and smiles, you’ve done your best and you’re happy with it, the rest is out of your hands.

As you exit the assessment room, Soonyoung pipes up, “Drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks, drinks?” He chants pointing at each of you as he does, the group mumbles a variety of agreements. 

“Y/N?” Mingyu asks.

“Come on, it’ll be fun, try something new.” Seungkwan whispers. 

You look at your friends smiling eagerly as they wait for your response, with an exhale and a nod, you give in, “drinks.”

At the bar, you crowd a small table, each with a drink in hand, talking and laughing about whatever comes to mind. You play games, sharing embarrassing childhood stories and weird facts you never would’ve learnt anywhere else. You are having fun, smiling, peaceful but, something’s off. You can feel it. He’s been quiet all night, barely even looked at you. It was annoying. It was annoying that it annoyed you, a few weeks ago this would have been normal behavior but now, it was different, it upset you, made you feel like you’d done something wrong, made you feel… unwanted. 

Being truthful, you weren’t really feeling it tonight. If you had it your way you’d be on your couch right now watching a film. You weren’t gonna go, not until you saw his cheesy grin amongst your friends’, so sweet you could melt. He was the reason you went out tonight. Him, and Seungkwan’s words, you should try something new. You had never felt so overwhelmed by your own feelings, one minute you felt nothing short of hatred for Wonwoo and the next… your heart is fluttering every time your eyes meet. 

During your daze, Wonwoo gets up to buy another round for the group, the sound of his chair moving snaps your focus back to the table but he’s already disappeared. You excuse yourself to the restroom, taking the chance to talk to Wonwoo whilst everyone else is distracted. Standing beside him, his eyes are fixed on his phone, reading some kind of article. 

“Are you okay?” you ask him, nervous for his answer - you’re not sure what you’ll do either way. He looks up at you, soft dark eyes taking you in. He stands with an unreadable expression for what feels like forever before he finally opens his mouth to reply and then-

“Wonwoo! Come here quickly, settle this bet for us!” Sometimes, you really hate Soonyoung. 

He shoots you an apologetic look and then, he’s gone, just like that. All the courage you had built up, wasted on an unanswered question. Fuck this. You grab your jacket, shooting Seungkwan a ‘don’t worry I’ll text you later’ look and head for the door. You’re exhausted, tired of it all, you just want to be in your own bed. 

As you walk down the quiet streets, you hear another pair of footsteps catching up to you. 

“Are you okay?” 

You look at him. You’re irritable and know that you’re probably not going to say the right thing but what the hell. 

“So you’re allowed to ask but I’m not?”

“No, that’s not- I… I’m sorry, I never know how to act around you, I never know what to say, I’m always doing the wrong thing but I-”

“Wonwoo.” you interject, “I can’t do this right now. Just… just go back to the bar.”

He doesn't respond, a silent understanding. He doesn’t leave either. He walks alongside you the whole way home, giving you quiet to think, offering you a comforting smile whenever your eyes meet. It breaks your heart just as much as it warms it, that he, despite your outburst, stays by your side when you need someone.

Even if you try to push him away, somehow he knows, he knows that you want him there. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

With the group project over, you don’t see him as often as before, hardly ever when you’re alone. You decide to put him out of your mind for a while, to focus on work and the rest of your assignments. Wonwoo, though, seems to have a habit of sabotaging your plans. 

It started off with simpler things, turning up at your work just to place a complicated order, smirking as he watches you struggle with it. Then on exam week, a bag of your favorite snacks appears at your door. On a random Wednesday, he orders a pizza to your apartment. On your birthday, a small cake. And, there’s not a week that goes by where he fails to visit the cafe, you’ve grown to look forward to his bizarre orders and playful teasing. 

Once the professor announces the end of the lecture, you grab your laptop and walk towards the door where you’re met with a familiar face. 

“Ah, the coffee fairy, what can I do for you today?” you greet him, playfully. 

“Can we talk? I’ll walk you home.” he asks, his voice laced with anxiety.

“Okay…” you nod, curious as to why he’s acting this way. 

Walking through campus, he clears his throat, “So…” he trails off.

“So?”

“So I don’t really know how to say this. I mean, maybe you already know but I mean… I’m sorry, I’m sorry if I upset you, or hurt you, or made you angry. If you hate me, that’s okay I just-” 

“I don’t hate you Wonwoo. Not anymore, anyways.” 

He chuckles softly, “Well, I just want you to know that I don’t plan on giving up I… I think this is it for me,”

“It?” 

“You. I think you’re it for me. I think it was over for me the moment I saw you.” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “And I’m sorry about everything. Around you, I just, I forget how to act, I can’t think. It’s all just… you.”

As he speaks, your face begins to heat up under his gaze, a smile appearing on your face as you take his hand in yours hesitantly, squeezing it gently. Suddenly, he stops speaking, pausing to think.

“Wait… what do you mean you don’t hate me anymore?” You can only laugh at his question as he pulls you closer to him. 

The walk back to your apartment is nice, peaceful even, like this is where you’re meant to be. You turn towards him to say goodbye and thank him for walking so far out of his way. He can’t hide his shyness as he says goodbye, stammering slightly with rosy cheeks. You look at him, hoping for more, but his eyes are fixed to the floor as he blushes. You laugh quietly, finding him incredibly endearing before turning away to enter your apartment. 

Suddenly, you feel his hand reach for your arm, “wait.” he says, spinning you back to him. 

The action happens so quickly, you’re basically pressed up against him, one of your hands finding his bicep to balance yourself. You look up at him, it’s clear that he’s still nervous but he’s doing his best to play it cool, his hand rests on your lower back as he pulls you even closer. The way he’s looking at you, like you’re the only thing he’s ever known, sends the color to your cheeks and you can feel your heart beating faster by the second. 

His other hand finds your jaw as he leans his face closer to yours, his breath tickling your lips. His soft, puppy dog eyes search yours for consent, and just like in Mingyu’s kitchen, you can muster up nothing but a nod, your breathing getting shallower with anticipation, hunger. 

His lips delicately brush yours, cautious and timid. You kiss him back warmly, he tastes like peppermint and cola, both new and familiar at the same time. He leans into you more, growing more confident as you part your lips, letting him explore you further. You fall into a perfect rhythm with butterflies fluttering throughout you and your grip on the other becoming firmer.

Remembering that you need to breathe, you break away from each other slowly. He rests his forehead against yours, sharing your breathless giggles and smiles of relief. 

“Jeon Wonwoo.” you whisper, still in a daze.

“Hmm?” he hums happily.

“I’m pretty sure I don’t hate you anymore.”

“Only pretty sure?” he jokes, feigning upset.

“100% sure.” you correct yourself with a happy grin.

“Good.” he says, pecking you softly and then pressing another kiss against your cheek. “I almost went insane waiting for you to realize.”

“Realize what?” 

He pulls you into a warm, strong hug, resting his head on your shoulder before whispering “That it was always you and me.”

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“What’s going on with Wonwoo?” Seungkwan asks on your way to class two days later.

“What do you mean?” 

“Something’s different… he’s brighter.”

“Why would I know anything about it, none of my business” you state, biting your lip to hide your knowing smile. 

“Oh come on, don’t act like you haven’t noticed!”

“I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bro, he didn’t stop smiling the entire time he was there, it was weird. He even spoke differently, lighter.” 

You hum a manufactured surprised response as your friend continues. 

“Maybe he met someone, he always talks about that person he’s liked since he moved here, maybe he finally made a move - i hope so I don’t know how much more of his schoolboy pining I can take.” 

Your gaze is glued to the floor as you listen, knowing that you were the reason for all his changes and that he was the reason for all of yours. That he made the world seem new, brighter, happier. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

“Are you okay? We haven’t talked in a few days.” Wonwoo says over the phone.

“I’m sorry, it’s just my thesis, I feel like I’m never gonna leave this apartment again.”

“That’s okay! I get it,” he reassures you, “talk to me about it.”

He listens intently as you babble about your thesis, humming along, asking questions and offering advice. Whilst you explain the block that you’re facing currently, there’s a knock at the door. Getting up from your laptop to answer it, you continue, “And now, I’m not sure where to go next.”

“With me.”

“Huh?” 

Opening the door, he’s stood in front of you. His dark hair falling perfectly, as he runs his fingers through it, still holding his phone to his ear with a sweet smile and pride in his eyes. 

Hanging up the phone, he clarifies, “take a break, let’s go for dinner.” 

And how could you deny such a pretty face? 

Walking the streets, he speaks passionately as he shows you his favorite spots around the city and you find yourself just happy to be here with him, to witness his excitement with a cheesy grin that you reserve for only a few people in your life. 

“You’re quite the sweet talker, Jeon Wonwoo.” you say, giggling. 

“Of course,” he responds proudly, “How else would I get to have you by my side?” With that he pulls you into a hug, his strong arms wrapping around you, swaying playfully from side-to-side and holding you as if you’re all he needs with him right now. 

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

The elevator dings as the two of you stumble inside, your arms resting on his shoulders. Looking at him with adoration as he turns you gently, reaching his hand out to clumsily press the elevator buttons behind you. You giggle between kisses as you find your balance, clinging onto each other. You hardly notice when the elevator rings again outside your apartment, too busy with your hands tangled in his hair and his palms running across your sides in painstaking seduction. 

Then he’s guiding you out of the elevator, hands still firm on your hips and not daring to break away from you for even a second. He slips his hand into yours, taking your keys and mindlessly fumbles to unlock the door.

It takes mere seconds once the door opens for him to slam it shut and have you trapped against the wall, he moves against you sloppily, licking into you with pure hunger and adoration, a tsunami of lust as his groans echo throughout your body. 

“Fuck. If you’d just spoken to me on that first day, I would’ve made you mine then and there.” he whispers against your skin, trailing electric kisses down your jaw towards your collarbone. 

You laugh in shock, lifting his lips back up towards yours, his cold hands sneaking underneath your shirt as you kiss him back feverishly. “Me? No, you were the one who ignored me.” 

“Hmm” he responds breathlessly, turning you around and leading you to your bedroom. Drawn together like magnets, you both stumble across the room, hands and lips battling for the next sweet taste, the next wanting touch. 

“Look how far…” his lips find yours again, “just a bit…” and again, “of communication can go” you finally manage to moan out. 

“Are you gonna stop talking and be mine now or…?” he whines as you drag against his lips. 

You giggle softly as he lifts your arms to rest around his shoulders, pulling you in by the waist before his soft mouth is reunited with yours.

﹒˚ ₊ ︵﹒⊹ ๑ ︵︵ ๑ ⊹﹒︵

You could never have imagined that you would come to find a safe space in Wonwoo. That you would eventually know him better than yourself. That the man you loathed, competed against, fought, would be yours. The man whose presence bothered you would soon be the one to hold your hand through good news and bad. That his happiness was your happiness, his sadness, his pride, his love. 

You never could have imagined that he would be the one waking you up on Sunday mornings with sweet kisses on your collarbone. That, at night you would be drawing idle patterns on his chest. That even after waking up from your dreams, he’d still be there holding you. That his touch was the only thing you craved, his kisses your favorite greeting, his voice your favorite song. His gaze and gooey brown eyes which used to irritate you to no end, would soon become your lighthouse in the storm.  You never could have imagined that you would love Jeon Wonwoo.

taglist: @peachytokki @aidanjoon @mykpopficblog @cheeseburgerjuseyo

[ateliersss]

Oh, take me back to The Night we met

Pairing: Yautja x Fem!Reader Summary: 1936, eighty-eight years ago, you met him, the creature that changed your life in a way that goes beyond human imagination. Cross-posted on AO3: here Warnings: Attempted Rape, SA, Murder, English isn't my first language Word Count: 10.162 After the Blooming Family series

⇨ Surprise! I hope you are surprised because I was starting to doubt myself. I actually believed I wouldn't even finish it this year. Anyways, I wrote the finishing 6.800 words in the last seven hours and my brain is mush. I hope it didn't affect the pace or logic of the plot. If so, I will edit it in a few days. Comments are always appreciated.

⇨ Also, if you tell me I wrote an unrealistic reaction to seeing a Yautja's face for the first time, let me tell you, you and I wouldn't be here if I hadn't reacted the same.

1936, Earth

"Thank you, ma'am." The soldier in front of you returned your identity card, the national animal printed on it facing you.

You returned his bright smile with a tight one. You were already used to identifying yourself to patrolling soldiers after work. It was for "safety measures", according to the government.

While you were busy putting away your identity card, the boy looked nervously over his shoulder to his comrade who nodded back to him, encouraging him to finally man up and just tell you what he had rehearsed a dozen times already to eventually make a move on you and ask you out.

"A-And thank you for your service, ma'am!" He blurted out, louder than he intended to, with a soft blush covering his cheeks.

You closed your purse and looked up at him in confusion.

The boy, you now noticed, had to be at least five years younger, probably around the same age as your younger brother, Emil. And you recognized him now, too. He was patrolling around this area two to three times a week.

At your confused face, he gestured a little awkwardly to your uniform, the white dress and blue-grey blouse underneath it. "D-Doctors and nurses are in desperate need in times like these a-and saving lives is a remarkable job!"

"Oh." You looked down at yourself before you pulled your coat tighter around your body and smiled softly at him. "If that's all, I'll take my leave now. Have a good night, gentlemen."

He visibly deflated at your words and mumbled a quick "Have a nice evening, ma'am." but you barely got half of it when you turned around to continue your way back home. The second your back was facing them, your smile dropped.

You hated it, hated this, this so-called life you and everyone around you had to live. Horrible and disgusting things were happening, but no one dared to speak up. You were all trapped, too scared to act, too afraid to do something.

And the people could feel it, the tension that was stretched so tautly that was just waiting to snap. The whole world was holding its breath, deferring that one moment when the match would ignite and reduce everything and everyone to rubble and ash.

Meanwhile, your brother was beaming with pride as he was now considered old enough to join the army and could finally fight for his country. On the other hand, your father, the only other family you still had in this world, was far more reluctant when it came to the plans of the government and his son's naive blindness of patriotism.

No one was talking about the horrifying wrongs your home country was doing for years now, but everybody knew, everybody saw. And if someone even dared to utter a word about it, they disappeared.

That didn't stop your father from ranting about it behind the closed doors of your home. He did so, of course, in Emil's absence. He was family, yes, but nowadays blind obedience could manipulate even a brother and son to go against his own kin.

You loved your brother dearly. He was a good guy and he only held a very strong pride for his home, his people, and his culture. But sadly that was the only thing he acknowledged around others. He denied the "rumors" of a genocide going on and overlooked unintentionally the more sinister motives of others in the world of politics and the military. He was truly and utterly blind, but you couldn't condemn him for that. Not really.

The Great War ended when Emil was three years old and you remembered him crying when your father told him he couldn't participate in it anymore. Ignorant of the horrors that happened at the Front, he and a few boys from around the neighborhood would play war and were disappointed when they were told it was over. The worst part was the elder men sitting on benches near their battlefield, telling them their people were the superior power since they had been able to hold their own against three opposing countries in the end.

You sighed and started to fumble around in your purse for your keys as you reached your destination. After a quick look into the mailbox — the usual evening newspaper and another flyer that encouraged men between the ages of twenty and forty-five to sign up for the military — you made your way up to the first floor and poked around in the lock with the key, a little distracted by the newspaper as you were searching the headlines for anything concerning. There was another report about a skinned man found hanging upside down from a church tower. Unbelievable. At times like this and there was a maniac running around, killing people in the most grotesque way for fun.

"I'm home!" You called into the dimly lit hallway, knowing your father was sitting in his usual spot in the living room.

After dropping your purse next to the wardrobe, toeing out of the white pumps, shrugging off the coat, and hanging it on the coat rack, you walked through the corridor and past five doors. The ones leading to the bathroom and the kitchen were open as always, just like the door of Emil's bedroom. Although it hadn't been inhabited for a few months now, you would always leave it open after cleaning. It was false reassurance, but that way it seemed as if he was still home.

"How was your day?" Your father asked gruffly from his spot on the wing chair, the morning newspaper still in his hand before it got replaced by the evening issue you handed to him with a kiss to his temple.

"It was…"

Screams.

Blood.

Wails of a newborn.

A cold body.

"…long."

"Mhm." Your father hummed, his eyes scanning the front page before turning it. "Hah! Sightings of another black cloud of smoke and the authorities tell the public another farmhouse burned down. Do they think we are stupid? Unbelievable these people! Think they will get away with it, hiding it from the public eye, and no one would notice!"

You weren't entirely sure if he had even listened to you, but you didn't care. You weren't very eager to start a conversation with him anyway.

"I'm in my room. Call me if you need anything, okay?"

Though you didn't expect a response, you waited a few seconds — maybe today he would ask if his son had finally sent a letter — before you turned around to retreat to your room.

Since your father had lost his legs in a bomb attack at a munitions factory where he had worked during the Great War, he had changed. A lot. Before, he was quite a gentle and jovial man who worked hard and never shied away from showing how much he loved his family. Nowadays, he was resentful and bitter towards everything happening around him.

It was exhausting, not only listening to his complaints day in and day out but also being nothing more than a maid and caregiver to him. You were the sole breadwinner in this house. You worked yourself to the bone in a business that was equally about life and death but gave you more grief than joy. At least it made the medical care of your father a little easier. The surgery, the medicine, and the wheelchair would have cost you a fortune.

When you would get off work, more would await you at home. Taking care of the household was your responsibility for nine years now since your father wasn't capable of doing it anymore. After the first week of dusting and sweeping, washing the dirty laundry and ironing the clean ones, going grocery shopping and cooking, as well as taking care of your father like washing him, helping him get to the toilet, and such, you cried yourself to sleep with the thought of quitting and running away.

But you didn't.

You were miserable, yes, but you stayed. You stayed with the hope of a better life in the future. Maybe you will be married to a nice man in a few years like your girlfriends already were. You had experience with men, sure, but none of them you would consider fit to be your husband.

In your bedroom, you quickly got rid of your uniform until you were only in your undergarments, a baby-blue silk panty that flowed around your mid-thighs and an uplift brassiere of the same fabric and color, both with a lacy hemstitched design. You were about to throw the white and grey-blue dress into your other dirty clothes when you noticed red speckles on the left sleeve.

Yes, the day had been long, too long for your taste, and when your shift did end, you felt hollow once more. You could still see her in that bed, screaming and crying.

Watching her, you had wondered if you would ever end up like her.

You shifted in your place, second-guessing before you finally turned and looked at your reflection in the mirror that occupied one corner of your bedroom. You hesitantly lifted your hands and placed them on your belly.

No. Your job showed you women struggle and in pain every day. You would never do that to yourself. Being a mother was not worth the probability of taking your last breath during labor, giving your own life while granting another to your child.

Today was another reminder of that.

The girl in the delivery room, Johanna, was sweet and lively. You met her occasionally on a monthly check-up when you assisted the doctor who took her into his care. She would tell you about her and her husband trying for this baby for years and how excited she was.

You bit the inside of your cheek when tears once again started to well up in your eyes when you thought of how helpless you had felt when you stood in that room. Your colleague, an older and more experienced woman, was holding the crying newborn in her arms. The doctor was doing his all to save the unsavable while Johanna's body got colder as the dark red spot grew bigger on the white linen of the bed.

Today had shown you once again that you would never let something like that happen to you.

"You have to incise into her abdomen."

Not ever.

"No!"

Not in a million years.

"No, Mi'ytiar… you have to, you have to."

You would never put someone else's life before yours, not even the one of your never-going-to-happen baby.

"Save our baby. Forget me… ju-just save our son… please."

Sighing, you got ready for bed. You were far too tired this evening to get anything done. The laundry had to wait until tomorrow and your father probably already had eaten, so there was no need to get to the store. For now, you needed to stop thinking.

A whole week passed and you had followed your everyday routine like every other day. Occasionally, when you walked past the room where Johanna had delivered her baby and made her husband a widower, you paused and stared. Instead of the freshly made bed and the stark white linen, you saw her dying as she bled out. You saw the doctor, yourself by his side and the nurse holding the baby at the foot of the bed.

You jumped when you felt a hand on your shoulder and you turned to see said nurse smiling pitifully at you.

"You are still there, right?" She asked softly, her eyes scanning your face.

You swallowed and nodded. "It's like that every time I come here. I don't know why. She's not the first I watched dying during childbirth."

The elderly woman patted your cheek and guided you away from the delivery room by the crook of your arm, pulling you away from the sorrowful abyss before you could drown any deeper in it.

"You liked her, that's why." She started, "I had a Johanna, too. A long, long time ago. Although she was a lot younger, she was just as excited to be a mother. Poor thing died just like her baby."

You gasped and now it was you who looked with pity at her. "Why?"

"The baby was stuck." The older nurse sighed, "She pushed and pushed and tore. By the time the doctor started to cut her open, she died of internal bleeding." She had to clear her throat before she continued, "The baby died with her. A little boy. He got himself tangled up in the umbilical cord."

You turned your gaze from her face down to the ground and watched your feet walk an unknown route. Swallowing down your tears, you forced yourself to concentrate on not stumbling over your own feet.

You did like Johanna. You had empathized with her, even though children would never be part of your life. She had just wanted a baby, a part of her and the man she loved united in one body, and all that she got was death. She hadn't deserved it. At least the thought that she might be together with her baby in heaven now, thanks to her belief in God, soothed your heart a little.

"Go home, (Y/N)." The elderly nurse interrupted your train of thought.

Looking up, you saw her holding up your purse and coat. Apparently, she had led you to the lounge where the doctors and nurses spent their lunchtime.

"But I still have six hours to go." You tried to argue but bit down your lower lip when she shook her head.

"If someone should ask for you, I will tell them you didn't feel well and that I sent you home. There are certain benefits as the head nurse." She winked at you, pushed your belongings into your hands, and shooed you in the direction of the exit.

"I promise I will feel better tomorrow." You called over your shoulder and waved at her, giving her one last smile before you shrugged on your coat and left.

Thirty-two minutes later, you got off the bus and turned around the corner into your street, your purse dangling back and forth on your wrist. With your extra five hours, maybe you could finally start that book on your bedside table if your dad wouldn't find any reason to turn your attention to him.

Feeling slightly more cheerful, you walked a little faster, already searching for the key. Like always, you checked the mailbox — nothing again — before you hopped up the one flight of stairs to your apartment, the sound of your heels on the wood filling the otherwise silent staircase.

The noise seemed to attract the woman living across from you because you barely reached the top of the stairs when she ripped her door open and stared at you with wide eyes.

You paused and looked at her in concern. "Mrs. Walter? Is everything okay?" You asked and carefully inched closer to her.

For several moments, you didn't get an answer. Only when you opened your mouth to ask her again did she slowly lift her trembling arm and point past you at something you could not see.

Strange. The only thing back there was your apartment door, so…

The slamming of Mrs. Walter's door barely reached your ears when you turned around. All you could hear was eerie silence, not Mrs. Walter quickly putting her distance between her and the door, not the dog barking from above you that got awakened by the slamming door, not the traffic noises outside.

The door that you diligently locked every morning before you got to work and unlocked every evening when you returned home hung on its hinges. In quick strides, you reached it and ripped off the note that was nailed into the wood under the peephole. Your eyes scanned over the words as you pushed the door open and entered the apartment.

A search was carried out here due to a tip-off of a conspiracy against the country and its people. All residents are requested to report immediately...

Tears clouded your view and made it impossible to make out the rest of the words. But there was no need to. You already knew what you needed to know. Your father was dead, no questions asked, no evidence to prove that he was innocent or guilty, no interference by the judiciary. He had dug his own grave since he started to badmouth and criticize the current sins committed by the government.

You slowly navigated your way through your destroyed home, your hands supporting yourself against the wall, careful not to get caught in something with your pumps. You had to duck under the big shelf close to the entrance of the living room. It was tilted to the side so that the upper part was now leaning against the other side of the wall. Everything that had ever been placed onto it — pictures, plants, certificates, and other little knick-knacks — was now scattered on the floor.

It got even worse in the living room. Everything had been turned upside down. Your father's chair was thrown to the side just like the couch and the coffee table. The books from the huge bookshelf that covered the length of the smallest wall in here were pulled out and tossed on the floor, pages ripped out and strewn on the floor. Pictures were taken from the walls and the glass crunched as you stepped over them. Dirt was covering the floor as if someone had been digging in the soil of the potted plants. The carpet was overturned, partly thrown onto the couch, and revealed the wooden floor it usually covered.

Your living room had been thoroughly searched and you doubted the rest of your home looked any different.

In a daze, you carelessly let your purse drop to the floor and shuffled to your bedroom. Opening the door, you were greeted with a view you had expected — your bed was tilted to the side, clothes from your closet were now scattered on the floor, and your mirror was lying face down on the floor.

When you saw the pictures of you and your family carelessly thrown into the corner, you couldn't hold the sob in any longer. You sank to your knees, curled into a ball, and cried to your heart's content with your eyes squeezed shut.

You lost your mother at a young age, lost your father for the first time after his accident, lost your brother to the country, and now lost your father for the second and final time. Now, you were wholly and utterly alone. Not for long, though. If you didn't come forward and turn yourself into a possible fair trial in the next sixteen hours, you would be taken just like your father and die the same way he did.

Your breakdown had been apparently so nerve-wracking and tiring that when you opened your eyes, it was dark inside your room and outside your window. Groggily, you propped yourself up and looked around, disappointedly ascertaining that you hadn't been dreaming at all. Your eyes scanned your room, still a little out of it, until you spotted your clock on the wall, surprisingly intact. 9:24 PM. Now you had less than ten hours left.

How would you spend your last ten hours in freedom? You didn't know, but you for sure wouldn't do it in here. You needed to leave.

As quick as you could you switched your nurse uniform to a skirt and your favorite blouse, fixed your make-up and your hair to look less like a mess and more like the respectable woman you usually were, and left the apartment after putting on your shoes, coat and grabbed your purse. At first, you strolled around with no real destination in mind, but the darker it got the higher the risk of being stopped by a patrolling soldier.

You had enough money with you to occupy yourself with a few drinks, so why not enjoy yourself, let a little loose? You never really got the chance to try it out. Your job unironically prevented you from unnecessarily damaging your liver and you had the responsibility to take care of your family. Your girlfriends always invited you on girl's night, but sadly, you had to decline almost every time, be it your father or another night shift forced upon you. They had another planned on the weekend in a few days, the first one in a very long time you would have had time for. Not anymore. When they would sit around a table and share the newest gossip, you had already started to rot away in a mass grave.

You entered the first, non-shady-looking bar and plopped down on one of the bar stools on the right. When the bartender finally took notice of you, all he needed to do was to take in your gloomy figure pitifully slumped in your seat to grab a glass and fill it with a brown liquid. No words were spoken — you didn't feel like it and he noticed that — as you grabbed the glass, tossed the liquor back, and placed the now empty glass back down. The alcohol, whatever it was, burned like hell and you couldn't help but cough, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. The bartender, meanwhile, wordlessly filled your glass again and without any hesitation, you emptied that one too.

You spend almost four hours like that. Losing count after your sixth shot, your head started to feel funny, like the world around you was spinning too fast. You mused what your life would have been like if your mother hadn't died when you were just nine years old, if your father hadn't lost his legs when you were seventeen, if your brother had chosen a normal job at your current age. You could have grown up like any normal girl, could have joined your friends more often to hang out, could have started going on dates again after your last boyfriend dumped you for neglecting him.

And what about your future? What about the man you wanted to marry in a few years? Every day, you daydreamed of someone who would just sweep you away in his arms and take you far, far away from here. There had to be a place somewhere where you could live your life in peace without a brewing war and the constant fear of death. You waited for someone who would make your life easier than it currently was, who would take the weight from your shoulders and not add some more on them every single day. Someone who loved you passionately and would spoil you after nine years of labor where you worked yourself to the bone. Someone who would take charge and let you rest when you needed it. Someone who was the other half of your soul that hopelessly awaited to be rejoined with its counterpart.

When you reached out to your glass for the nth time, a hand softly clasped your wrist. Looking up, you saw the bartender giving you the same pitiful look you had received for God knows how often today, from your colleague at the hospital to some of the other patrons who entered and left the bar during the last few hours.

"I think you should get home." He said firmly and pulled his hand away.

No longer being hindered, you lifted the glass up to your lips and emptied it in one go. "I no longer have a home." You dully answered, your speech a little slurred.

"We close in a few minutes." He tried another route, anything to get you to stop drinking.

He may not be interested in what personal business you have to drink yourself under the table, but even he wouldn't let a young woman like you do that to herself.

"Fine." You mumbled, grabbed your purse, and searched for the money that was stored somewhere in there. You hummed when you finally found it and without looking at it, you dropped it down on the counter. "Here."

You held onto the sleek surface of the bar to lift yourself up and from your seat, supporting your whole weight with one hand while you needed several attempts to grab your coat. Not bothering to put it on, you turned to leave and even you were surprised that you could still walk in a (more or less) straight line.

"Hey, you paid too much!" The bartender called from behind you.

Not bothering to stop or turn around, you simply proclaimed, "Keep it. Where I go I won't need it." and pushed the entrance door open.

Outside, you tilted your head up, closed your eyes, and took a deep breath of the cool night air. It instantly freshened you up and cleared your mind a little. Looking left and right along the sidewalk, you decided to take the left and began strolling wherever it was taking you, once again with no actual destination in mind. You had no idea what time it was, but you guessed you had around five or six hours left. If you're lucky and didn't get held up by some patrols, you could visit the park one last time where your parents, Emil and you would hold a picnic every summer when you were younger. It would only take you ten minutes on foot. It wouldn't hurt to visit the place that held so many good childhood memories and bask in them in your final hours.

You were walking for a mere two minutes when you heard a whistle from your right. Halting your steps, you turned your head to the side and looked over to the source. There, on the other side of the street, were two men sitting on a bench and two standing around them. One was holding a beer bottle while the others were smoking their cigarettes.

"Hey, pretty lady." The one with the beer bottle called over to you and lifted it to toast to you.

You quickly snapped your head back forward and continued on your way, your strides bigger and faster to create as much distance between you and them as possible.

When you thought you were safe, you felt a hand clasping your wrist whose owner pulled you back and against his strong chest.

"Hey, hey, hey." The voice of the man with the beer bottle breathed against your ear, sending an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. "Don't be shy. We were just celebrating my friend's promotion." To your horror, he put his hands on your hips and turned you both to his three companions who had seemingly followed him, all of them wearing leering grins. "Why don't you join us, hm? We could need a little entertainment." He murmured against your neck, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Before he could place his lips anywhere close to your skin, you struggled out of his grip and stumbled a few steps away from him. "I-I'm sorry, but I need to go home. I'm already late."

The man who seemed to be the leader of the bunch stepped closer to you, smirking when you accidentally walked right into one of his friends. The guy immediately held you against him, keeping you in place.

"I think you could spare a couple of minutes." The leader said firmly and reached for your blouse.

Fear seemed to be a great way to quickly sober one up because the next thing you did was stomp down on the foot of the man that was holding you, your heel hitting his toe perfectly, causing him to let you go with a cry in pain and a curse. Next, you rammed your knee into the crotch of the man in front of you and when his body doubled over, you pushed him to the side and bolted down the sidewalk.

Not daring to look back, you sprinted as fast as you could, but the alcohol made it hard to keep balance, not to mention the nausea that bubbled up in your stomach. But you ignored it and tried to keep it down when you heard their calls from behind you, coming closer and closer.

This was not how you wanted to spend your last night, this was not how you imagined it. Tears clouded your view and you narrowly escaped the grabby hand of whatever guy that was closest to you when you ducked down and sharply took a left turn into an alley.

Unbeknownst to you, you were being watched.

The next thing you felt was hard concrete as you fell forward when a heavyweight collided with your back. You cried out in pain when you hit your head, then hysterically screamed in panic when you felt hands on your skirt and you started kicking around, not caring if you hit something or not. You heard a grunt when your heel finally made contact with the shoulder of one of them, but you barely had time to bask in your little victory when a punch to your face almost knocked you out cold. Your body went instantly slack, a long-winded groan leaving your mouth.

"Move your ass and hold her down." The voice of the leader sounded from somewhere above you. "And turn her around. I like to watch their face when they give up."

Hands turned you on your back as your screams and cries accompanied your attempts to fight their hands off.

"No… please no." You begged as your wrists were pinned above your head by a pair of rough hands. "No!" You screamed louder, in a high-pitched, panicking voice when your blouse was ripped open, your brassiere following suit, and your chest got groped by a calloused hand.

You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt an eager mouth around your nipple, harshly sucking on it while your breasts were still in a painfully hard grasp. You tried to gather your last strength, the drinks earlier and then the hit to your head from the fall tempted you to just fall unconscious, but you bucked your body up in hopes you could throw whoever was above you off of you.

Only you couldn't move. Someone was straddling your thighs, hindering you from moving.

You finally forced yourself to open your eyes and the blurry image of the leader pushing up your skirt presented itself in front of you.

"Stop, please! Help!" You started screaming again, causing the leader to sigh in annoyance.

"Could you please shut her up, for fuck's sake? I'm trying to enjoy myself here." He growled at the guy who was holding your hands down, his patience growing thinner with every passing moment he wasn't able to force himself inside you. "When I'm done with her, you get what's left of her."

"No, no, no..." You wailed when you heard the clinking of his belt and a zipper being opened, but you soon got silenced when a palm pressed down on your mouth.

Rather than keep watching him, you closed your eyes in defeat, now only feeling how he moved closer to your crotch, his fingers pushing your underwear aside, and positioned himself against your entrance.

A dull thud behind your attackers stilled them for a moment, but a raging roar got them to whip around. You kept your eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see whatever feral animal was going to maul you and those men.

A scream, something wet splashing on you and something, someone, heavy landing on top of you got you to finally open your eyes again. You stared right into a gaping hole where the head of a person normally should be. Maybe it was the shock of almost ending up left on the ground in this alley, covered in bruises, blood and bodily fluids after they were done with you, that kept you from screaming.

In a daze, you pushed the corpse off of you and looked down at your body. It was covered in blood, parts of a splattered brain, and white fragments that had been the skull of the leader of the group. His head had burst into pieces. No animal could have done that and no human either. There was no weapon on earth with that much destructive power, so what…

With slow eyes, you looked up from your soiled legs. The guy now lying dead next to you had been obscuring the view of a large creature standing no more than three meters across from you.

Whatever it was, it seemed livid. Its body was heaving with wrathful breaths and its long fingers were twitching, clenching into fists before relaxing them again. Its massive form was hidden by darkness and you could barely make out its silhouette.

It felt like an eternity with you just staring at the creature and it (probably) staring right back. The other assaulters, two of whom had fallen to the ground in shock with the sudden attack on their leader, hadn't dared to move a muscle. Maybe they were in a trance just as you were, not for the same reason, of course.

"H-Hey!" The fourth guy squeaked, breaking the tension that seemed to suffocate the whole alley. "Wha-"

In a practiced, seemingly effortless movement, the creature whipped out its arm, and something silvery shot out of the darkness. It wrapped around the throat of the man, choking him and sending him to his knees. He was clawing his neck and tried to remove what seemed to be a whip made out of sleek silver and grey material. 

You watched him as he desperately tried to free himself and blood started to flow from where the whip was wrapped around his neck down to his shirt, turning the light blue fabric deep red. Your eyes then traveled along the bladed chain, you now noticed, to the other end of it, and found the large creature moving towards you.

If you would have been able to make a sound, you would have, but you were still too out of it that no noise escaped your bloody lips when you were finally able to distinguish your savior. 

It was indeed huge, a massive body that was dwarfing any human being you could think of. Its appearance was bizarre. Its feet and calves up to its knees were in unusual boots made out of metal instead of leather with an interesting design. You wondered if it was the skin of the creature or if it was wearing a net-like cloth that was visible on every body part that wasn't hidden beneath armor like the chest plate that bled over into a full sleeve of its arm. It was covering the left side of its chest but not enough to conceal a rather fit upper body. You found yourself staring a lot longer at the well-defined, almost sculpted abs of it. It was no doubt a male.

As you were eyeing the creature up, he yanked on the whip. You were only aware of a dull thud when the bladed chain cut off the head of the man who had been in its hold. 

You didn't register when more blood sprinkled on you as you were too busy trying to imagine a face underneath that strange mask. With his green, brownish, and beige reptilian skin, the long black tendrils sprouting from the head, the long claws, and the animalistic posture, he was, without a doubt, not human. 

An arm wrapping around your throat from behind, preventing you from breathing evenly, brought you back to reality. You immediately put up a fight, scratching it and pulling on the arm in hopes he would let go.

It was one of the attackers that had fallen to the ground when the creature had appeared. He must have scrambled over to you when his last companion was foolishly enough to run up to the murderous beast, trying to do something quite laughable, only to be impaled by a spear and was now hanging on the wall to the right like he was a portrait above a chimney, the spear rammed through the brick of the apartment building.

The idiot behind you thought the creature would let him go if he was holding you hostage as if he wasn't going to kill the both of you just like his buddies. So foolish, you internally sighed.

"S-S-Stop! I'm warning you!" He screamed at the towering figure which was closing in on you. "I will… I will kill her!"

The creature stopped a few steps away from you and reached behind his back. Quicker than your eyes could keep up, his hand shot forward and he threw something of the size of an orange at the man.

Yelling, the man loosened his grip, his instincts kicking in to fight against whatever was sticking to his forehead. In his struggle, he fell on his back and started rolling around on the floor when the little device made a strange wiring noise. His body went stock still when he was engulfed in a net, restraining him. Then the man screamed bloody murder when the wiring noise grew louder and the device pulled the net tighter around him.

You turned to him, only to see the strings cutting into his skin, drawing blood, until only pieces of his body were left of him, leaving him unidentifiable to whoever would find him and his friends.

Now, it was only you in that alley. You, the beast that saved you and the bloody massacre, turning the place into an image of horror.

You were going to get sick if you stared at what had been a living and breathing human once any longer. Rather than wanting to face the creature when it was going to kill you, you turned back around and then startled back. Said beast was crouching in front of you, the head cocked to the side.

He reached out a clawed hand and you closed your eyes, preparing yourself for whatever gruesome death he had planned for you. You thought back to everything you had achieved in your life, every person that was still dear to you, said goodbye to every place you loved to visit, to the movie you had wanted to watch in a week with a friend, to the unread book on your bedside table and every dream you had wanted fulfill — you had actually planned to do that in a few hours. At least he was going to give you a quick death and not whatever the authorities had done to your father.

Something poked your cheek.

Your eyes snapped open and you were met with a closer view of the strange mask covering the creature's face. His hand was outstretched and a finger was prodding your skin. A strange noise was coming from behind the mask, something you could only describe as a rumbling purr. 

You stayed still, afraid if you would only move a muscle, it would set the creature off and let him drag his clawed finger up to your temple where a trail of blood had started to run from the wound you got from the fall. You hissed in pain when the pad of his thumb stroked — probably unintentionally hard — over your lower lip, the rough skin touching where it was busted. He pulled its thumb away only to replace it with the back of his pointer and middle finger to caress your jaw and down to your throat. The touch caused you to swallow which he most likely could feel. Only when you felt the scaly sensation on your skin dip too deep, too far beneath the ripped remains of your blouse, you gripped his wrist.

The creature's head snapped up where it had followed his exploration. You flinched back at the sudden movement and quickly loosened your hold on his wrist, pulling it away like you had burnt yourself.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, your voice hoarse.

What if you had just signed your death? What if you touching him like that had triggered him? What if he thought you were a threat now? What if he thought of it as highly offensive? What if he was going to kill you now? What if-

A low thump caused you to flinch when he hit the left side of his chest with his right fist. With parted lips, you looked from his fist up to his masked face and then back again, confused, both at the gesture and the lack of aggression towards you. Almost as if he could understand the look on your face, he repeated the action with a little more determination after he inched closer to you. You were more focused on his sudden closeness, daring not to move back, but you hastily turned your gaze down to his fist. It was a little hard to concentrate on what he was trying to tell you after the vast change of demeanor — from murdering in cold blood to trying to… communicate with you?

"You?" You tried hesitantly.

It really was your best guess on what he could mean.

A soft growl reached your ears from underneath his mask, making you tense up but relaxed in relief the second his attention turned to his forearm. You watched in curiosity as his clawed pointer finger ghosted over the armor-like wristband that started flashing in a bright red and made strange beeping noises like when a caller on the other line hung up before you could. Your mouth opened without you even noticing. You had never seen something like it, probably no one ever had. How was it functioning without cables like your telephone and radio did?

"Are you telling me you are married?"

You jumped back a little when a male voice chimed from his wristband.

"To a cup of tea, I will never say no."

"I can't believe you put the jar in the oven!"

You looked at him in astonishment as more voices sounded from his forearm. Human voices.

He kept repeating the same three sentences, but they seemed to get shorter with every replay.

“-telling me you are… telling me… me.”

"-a cup of tea… tea."

“-you put the jar in the… you put the jar… the jar… jar.”

He seemed to be satisfied as he let out a deep, low-pitched chirp before he played the cut and put together word snippets to you, his head facing you now.

“Me-tea-jar.” He hit his chest once again before playing the word again. “Me-tea-jar.”

"Meetja?" You tried the word, tried how it felt on your tongue.

He let out a deep grumble before he played the same word again and leaned even closer to you.

“Me-tea-jar.”

"M-Meetiar. Mi'ytiar."

With his head slightly cocked to the side, he tilted it forward in a one-movement nod as if to say, "Now you got it." and his fist hit his chest one last time.

"You. Mi'ytiar. T-That's your name?" You asked and hoped you put the puzzle pieces together correctly.

Another nod before he pointed at you.

"Oh." You softly said, shifted your hips slightly, and nervously placed a hand on your own chest. “(Y/N). I'm (Y/N)."

“(Y/N).” Your voice sounded from his forearm when he touched his wristband. “(Y/N).”

You couldn't help the small smile and you nodded. "Yes. (Y/N)."

The creature — Mi'ytiar — lowly grumbled in appreciation and you breathed out the air you had been holding in your lungs with a laugh. You couldn't believe you talked, more or less, to something that undoubtedly didn't belong on earth while you were surrounded by death after being spared from something that would have scarred you for life just because you had been out drinking to have one last night in freedom until you would follow your father in an early grave. Your life really had taken a strange turn in just a few hours.

"What are you?" You asked him and tilted your head to the side.

"Hunter." He communicated with the help of his wristband.

"Where do you come from?"

"Sky."

"Sky." You repeated the child's voice and looked up.

So he came from the sky. You wondered if he meant the clouds or maybe the moon. It could be the stars for all you knew. Was he the only one living there, or were there more? Maybe one like him lived on each star the night sky had to offer.

As you were looking up in thought, Mi'ytiar took his time to admire you. You were, what you humans would use, adorable. He didn't hunt humans very often as they weren't much of a challenge, but sometimes he would visit earth out of curiosity. Your kind was interesting and his ancestors had been quite fond of them when they used them to breed their prey centuries ago. Humans have continuously developed from then to now, so it was fascinating to watch.

Like he watched you now. He admired your wide eyes, the curve of your nose, and your rosy cheeks that displayed the dried tear streaks of panic and fear. He admired the shape of your lips and the cut that had caused you pain when he touched it. He admired your shiny hair that had once been pulled up in a neat bun but was now hanging loosely and messily around your face, framing it like it was a piece of art. He admired your small, shaking hands that were desperately holding the ripped-open blouse together, protecting your modesty and the naked skin of your trembling shoulders when the fabric had slipped down to your biceps. You had been so incredibly warm and soft when he had touched what you were hiding now.

A quiet hiss got you to look back at him and you watched with uncertainty as his fingers first pulled on the one tube that was connected to his mask and then the other before he removed it anxiously slow. You mentally prepared yourself for the most horrific sight of your life, but when the top half of his face was laid bare, you sucked in a breath. It wasn't the foreign shape of his head, the texture of his skin, or the spiky triangle-shaped bumps that circled the sides and the back of his head like a crown, clearly dividing where the roots of his hair ended and his face started. It was his eyes, though an abnormal orange, that was salient and captivating you. They didn't look like what your wildest fantasies had to offer, but they somewhat seemed almost human — a black pupil surrounded by an orange iris. And not just any orange. It was the kind of orange that stretched across the sky at every sunrise and sunset. The only difference you spotted from your own eyes was that he had a black sclera instead of a white one.

You would have gotten lost in them if he hadn't removed the mask fully, so his lower face was showing too. You wouldn't exactly describe it as terrifying, but the sight of his mouth was, to say it simply, unnerving. It was hidden behind four tusks that represented his mandibles. You were fascinated when he suddenly made a clicking noise but were taken aback when he extended the fleshy texture to reveal two rows of teeth. It was like he had two jaws, one when the mandibles were retracted to his face and one when they were extended and showed his actual mouth. His upper jaw held three teeth with two larger fangs on each side, his lower jaw held the same amount only were they a little thinner, so his fangs wouldn't hinder his mouth from closing.

Even after the initial shock subsided, you wouldn't exactly use the word pretty, but there was something about him. Thrilling and particular, astounding and intriguing, but also alluring.

The longer you looked at him, at Mi'ytiar, the more accustomed you got to his appearance.

Another clicking sound reached your ears and you stopped mapping his features with your eyes, only now realizing how he looked down at you with his head tilted to the side. When you mumbled his name, almost as if it took all your courage, he straightened up and his eyes snapped to your hand that had loosened its grip on your blouse. He followed its movement, getting closer to his face, and when you turned your hand so your palm was facing him, his own hand reacted fast and grabbed your delicate wrist.

Bad idea, real bad idea, you thought. He wasn't exactly hurting you, but his grip wasn't exactly soft.

Instead of tugging against his hold in an attempt to free yourself that would obliviously fail, you let your arm go slack. Instead of panicking, you remained calm. Instead of screaming at him to let you go, you kept your mouth shut and waited for his next move. If you triggered him in any way, he would surely kill you.

Mi'ytiar, on the other hand, was amazed by you and in awe. He wouldn't be the first Yautja to be enthralled with a human in this kind of way, sure, but he hadn't expected to be one of them one day. You were extraordinary in the way you looked at him, didn't mind the proximity he had put you in, and apparently seemed to seek for it.

Contrary to what you believed, he pulled your hand closer to his face by the wrist, causing you to move from your side-sit on the floor to get on your knees. Your lips parted in surprise when he pulled his mandibles in and he himself brought your hand up to his cheek.

The sensation underneath your touch was unusual and new. His cheek wasn't like that of a human when you would press the fat until you could feel the jaw bone. It was springy, considering it was only a fleshy layer that covered his mouth. You moved your hand down to his outer jaw, which consisted of his mandible, and followed its length with your palm. You could feel the firm muscle and bone and gave it a gentle, experimental squeeze. Almost automatically, he made a soft purring noise like that one of a cat and you blushed at the possibility that he was enjoying the caress.

You, of course, had no idea that you were touching a highly sensitive part of his anatomy and would be alive to tell the tale afterward.

Just as you were curious about him, he was eager to explore you as well. Carefully, he reached out and through the ripped-open front of your blouse. Seconds later, his palm made contact with your stomach and he could feel how you tensed up. He looked up into your eyes, but when he found nothing that indicated that you despised his touch, his hand ran along to your waist and down to your hip, his thumb absentmindedly stroking your belly. It was strange how you could feel his thumb near your navel and, at the same time, his other fingers on your lower back, taking the width of your hip like it was nothing.

The both of you were too busy in your explorations that you had grown ignorant to your surroundings, so when a scream filled the previously quiet alley, you grabbed his extended arm, not to push it away but to hold onto it in panic, while Mi'ytiar whirled his head around to the two outlines standing near the street at the end of the alley. Your body was hidden by his massive one, so it looked like a monster was kneeling among his freshly killed victims, basking in the glory of his crime.

Mi'ytiar's mandibles flared and the guttural roar that left his lungs made you cling to him in fear. Not of him, but the consequences that you would have to face if those who had stumbled upon this scene without context would call for the patrolling soldiers. You heard more screams and hastily retreating footsteps as the couple ran as if their lives depended on it.

Large hands grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up on his shoulder, causing you to squeal in surprise, and you had barely time to hold onto him before he started climbing up the metal scaffolding of the balconies of the apartment building, jumping up and landing on the roof. With an arm secure around your waist, he jumped and ran further and further away.

And you let him.

2024, Yautja Prime

"What you smiling for?"

And all of a sudden, those purred words were taking you from your past life to your current one. You hadn't even noticed you had stopped drawing random figures and forms on Mi'tyiar's naked chest. At some point, you had started daydreaming with that far-away look in your eyes and a smile slowly making its way on your lips as you were lying on him, between his legs.

"Just thought of the night we met." You drawled lazily and rubbed your cheek against his reptilian-like skin. "My hero in shining alien amour."

"My amour does not shine."

Now you had to laugh. Sometimes, you couldn't help yourself when he was so bluntly clueless. Humans and their analogies were oh-so confusing.

"It's a human saying, my love." You explained as you crossed your arms on his wide chest and rested your chin on them. "A male who saves a female from danger. A male who would sacrifice himself so the female can get away without harm."

Mi'ytiar reached towards your face and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking your cheek before he dragged it over your lower lip. You were dreamingly looking up at him, basking in his loving touch. You were placing your hand on his and turned your head to the side so you could pepper his palm with light kisses.

He couldn't help his body's reaction, he just couldn't. He was starved of your touch.

You suddenly stopped your sweet kisses when you felt something big poking your stomach. You looked down, although you could only see how your breasts were pressed against him, before you looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"You are insatiable." You smirked and hoisted yourself up after placing one last kiss between his pecs.

You straddled his midriff but left enough space between you and him so you could reach underneath your body and grab his semi-hard cock. Even at this size, you had a little trouble fully embracing it and getting your fingertips to touch.

You hissed when you felt the familiar sting of his sharp mandibles and teeth digging into your skin. You tilted your head to the side and offered him more access. Mi'ytiar let out a feral growl when your blood finally hit his tongue. He relished in it, tasting so sweet, just like the rest of you.

Grasping your hips with both of his hands, his claws scratching your delicate skin, he pushed them down to his crotch.

He needed you again, needed to be so deep inside you, so he could see the bulge of his cock forming in your tummy. Just the thought of it made his hips snap up, barely missing your entrance and dragging his cock through your sopping wet folds that were covered with your combined releases from your last mating moments ago. It elicited a whiny moan and a wiggle of your hips.

"Stop teasing, tanhì. Put it in." You groaned and started rubbing yourself up and down his rock-hard cock, coating it with your mixed cum that was still leaking from your hole.

Mi'ytiar wrapped a large arm around you and started to get up, his other arm supporting himself to manhandle you on your back to be on top. The second your hazy mind registered what he was doing, you placed both of your hands on his chest and pushed him back down. You preened when his body immediately went slack, allowing you to do as you pleased with him.

He was staring up at you with flashing eyes. You didn't take the lead very often, preferring it to be dominated by your mate, but when you did, he was gladly giving you the power you wanted.

The first time you had tried to be on top, it had gone from steamy to ugly pretty quickly. You had been on your back when you tried to push him and switch your position, but since he had been unmovable like a rock, you had untangled yourself from him and told him to lie back. You were straddling his hips, humping his hardening cock for exactly thirty seconds before he flipped you over and on your back again. You had then mewled and tried to push him back once more, causing him to growl. For your attitude, he bit roughly into your throat, hoping it would keep you submissive. You let out a cry and hit his chest with both of your fists. This time, Mi'ytiar showed you his displeasure more vocally when he slammed his flat hands next to both sides of your head and roared right into your face. Safe to say, it scared the living daylights out of you and caused you to escape his caging arms. He, of course, followed you quickly and tried to amend his outburst with purrs and snuggles rather than words.

The next time you were on top, he vehemently focused on staying seated on the edge of your nest with you on his lap as you rode him with his helping hands on your hips. His eyes strayed from the spot where his cock was disappearing inside of you, to the bulge in your stomach that grew and shrunk with every movement, to your bouncing breasts, to your pleasure-contorted face.

After that, he couldn't get enough of you being on top.

The same was the case now as you slowly inserted his throbbing cock into your-

A wail broke the sensual atmosphere, causing the both of you to jerk your heads to the doorway connecting the room to the rest of your home. With your maternal instincts kicking in, you practically jumped up from your mate, his half-inside cock slipping from your tight heat, and ran to the room where the sound was coming from.

Mi'ytiar slumped back with a displeased grunt. He loved his pup dearly, truly he did, but he hadn't been able to mate with you for an eternity — five months, double the time the healer had advised you to keep from being intimate with each other after the pregnancy because a certain someone had been overly cautious with you — and his cock throbbed painfully at that sorrowful thought.

He got up from the nest and followed the direction you had run off to. Your five-month-old pup was sleeping alone in his room for only a short part of his life. Before that, his crib had been standing next to the nest in your room, quickly accessible and in reach should he need any sort of attention. Now, he was sleeping in his big brother's former nursery, which you had lovingly prepared when you had been pregnant with Akail, your first pup.

Mi'ytiar watched you standing in front of the crib in the middle of the room, your back to him, as you rocked the whiny pup in your arms. The wholesome thoughts of his beautiful mate taking such good care of his youngling quickly turned into an animalistic need to breed you once more when his eyes trailed over your curves that had gotten bigger after bearing his second son. They fixed on your legs where trails of semen were running down your skin from between your inner thighs.

He was faster by your side than you would expect from a being of his size. He pressed his bare body against your own, hands on your hips pulling you closer, his cock digging into your back. Mi'ytiar bent down to snuggle his face into the crook of your neck, purring lowly.

"He was just hungry." You whispered as you watched your pup falling back to sleep.

Bending over, you placed your little one back into his crib, careful not to disturb him. You had to bite your lip when you felt Mi'ytiar pull you back against his crotch to rub himself against your ass. All you needed to do was push your ass back into him for him to grab you, throw you over his shoulder and turn to leave your son's nursery.

Giggling, you looked back to the pup's crib and whispered, "Dream of the stars, my little Toyah." before you got carried back to your nest.

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[crunchystarz]

Runs and trips and falls

(out of breath) may I please request hurt comfort with Idia (gender neutral reader) it doesn't matter what I'm a poor orphaned boy who must be fed

"only you"

Idia Shroud x GN!reader| oneshot

Summary- Idia seems to be avoiding you and you don't know why.

Cw- hurt/comfort, poor communication, Idia is bad with feelings, reader is yuu

Word count: 1622

A/N: we are so back chat, hope you enjoy!

School was taking a huge toll on you. At one point you were just a regular college student, until you were transported to a completely different world. By some “luck” you still had to do school work. However everything was slightly altered here.

Going to Night Naven College was like being a black sheep among a herd of white sheep. Everyone knew what they were doing. You on the other hand were still trying to catch-up. You had no magic and little knowledge of anything that this world had to offer.

On top of that you were living in a run down dorm with just enough money to survive. To say you were tired was an understatement. However there was one light in your life that kept you going.

Idia Shroud. He was socially anxious, shut in who with no doubt could be a little rude sometimes was your best friend. You'd often spend your time at Ignihyde. You'd listen to the guy rant about some game he was playing or other times you two would just sit in a comfortable silence.

You don't know why but being around Idia calmed your mind. If you could describe him he'd be like the eye of a hurricane. The one safe and peaceful point. He was an anchor to you; he grounded you in this unfamiliar place.

You couldn't explain truly he just made you feel…human.

So when he started to ignore you. It hurt…real bad. He'd not pick up or return your calls at first. Not out of the ordinary he sometimes did that. He'd not reply to your texts, even after you clearly saw that he received your message. It honestly made you anxious.

Maybe you were reading way too much into it. That was until you were at a meeting that for some reason required you to be involved.

You smiled when you saw the familiar blue flames of hair. When you went to go talk to him however he just walked away. It shattered your heart in a way you couldn't understand.

He was ignoring you. And it stung so fucking bad. Your safe place was…ignoring you.

Soon that became the only thing you could think about. What could you have done to upset him? Did your usual teasing actually get him mad or upset bim? Did he hate you? You didn't know and it was driving you crazy.

You couldn't find a reason for Idia to just flat out start avoiding you. Seriously, what could you have done? Over time he stopped reading your messages all together.

It felt like a knife straight through your heart. Eventually you just focused on school, letting the work consume you. While you had other friends, yes , they didn't have the same bond you and Idia shared.

You tried to ignore the aching in your heart. The way you'd feel so empty when he wasn't around. It was weird. Felt so odd to not have him talk to you about some new niche anime or have him rest in your lap while you watched him play a game.

Those were moments you cherished. And you'd replay those memories over and over trying to search for where you screwed up , for why he'd start to distance himself

—

You groaned, you didn't know what you were doing. Maybe it's just your sleep deprived brain that dragged you here. You should turn back. But just as you decided of course you were stopped by a hand gripping into your uniform.

“[Name] what a wonderful surprise!” A voice chirped.

Your eyes widened before you turned the other way. “ Hi Ortho, I was actually about to get going sorry” you spoke, patting his head.

“Oh but, it's been so long since I've seen you! I'm sure my brother feels the same way why don't you come In please “

“Ortho wait..” Ah who were you kidding you couldn't resist the way his eyes looked so sad. You let him pull you along even if your insides are screaming to go the other way. Yet that small part of you went along because you missed being there.

“w-what are you doing here?” Squeaked a familiar voice.Your heart basically stopped actually seeing Idia. Your mouth felt dry and your legs started to shake. You didn't know why.

You didn't even realize tears started to fall down your cheeks.

Idia’s golden eyes widened in panic as he saw the tears streaming down your face. He froze, his nervous fidgeting intensifying as his hands gripped the edges of his hoodie like a lifeline. His blue flames flickered.

“I'm sorry— I just” you hiccuped. Embarrassed, you tried to wipe away your tears but they just kept falling.

“W-why the heck are you crying?” he stammered, his voice rising slightly in pitch. His gaze darted everywhere. You couldn't help but cry harder at his words. He awkwardly moved closer to you.

You didn't clock the fact you yourself were moving closer before you latched yourself into his body in a hug. Burying your face into his chest while you continued to sob uncontrollably.

The weight of every stressful event that has happened up until this point finally got to you, just seeing Idia was the tipping point. You were so exhausted truly. You sniffled into his hoodie as he awkwardly wrapped an arm around you. As if you were a fragile piece of glass and if he handled you wrong you'd shatter.

You pulled away enough to look Idia in his eyes, his yellow ones looked concerned and conflicted. “Why- have” you paused for a moment. “Why have you been ignoring me…” your voice cracked and it almost came out like a broken whisper.

“I- uh I… “ The house warden started. His mouth opened and closed but words never left him. He ran a hand through his hair struggling to come up with the right words.

His frown deepened when you started to cry a bit harder, hesitant he went to reach out for you. You let him pull you close to him again.

“Look It's not…you. It's just I thought it would be better if I just…” he mumbled eyes farting everywhere but your form. Your grip on his hoodie tightened.

“Why would that be better, why would ignoring me be better;,do you know how much that hurt me?” You choked. Idia cringed and just sighed. Guilt flashing across his face.

“I know …I know. I hurt you and I'm really really sorry I just…” words seemed to be caught in his throat. He couldn't explain how he felt to you. It was so nerve-wracking and he'd only make things worse. He hurt you, but you deserved to know.

He mumbled something under his breath , something you couldn't make out.

“What was that?”

“I like like you okay, like I want you to be part of my party way, like if we were in a dating sim your hearts would be maxed out time of like— and I just thought I'd never stand a chance and that you deserve someone who isn't so…me, that it would be better if you just would forget about me” He stammered out, pink creeping into his pale cheeks.

You were stunned and for a moment you could just stare at him. He flinched and looked away at your gaze.

“It just thought it would be easier…” he muttered just above a whisper. His golden eyes finally met you when you started to laugh through your tears.

“Idia you idiot! Why would I care about that?” You giggled breathlessly, wiping away your tears and you let out a sigh of relief.

“Well you're just so amazing [Name]! I'm some shut in who can't properly socialize, I'd mess everything up if I -”

Idia’s brain short-circuited when you cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. His hair flashed pink as your soft lips met his blue ones. He didn't know how to react. He could have died right there.

“I like you too you dummy, and I wouldn't have it any other way so…please don't shut me out again “ You said looking him in the eyes, your voice getting quieter at the last few words.

The house warden brought a hand to his lips and nodded. A small smile tugged at your lips and you couldn't help the small laugh that left your throat at his flustered state.

“But…”

“No buts, I don't want any ‘better’ I want you Idia, nothing is going to change that” you spoke softly, hands picking up his own. He opened his mouth but immediately shut it, not trusting himself enough for the right words to leave his mouth.

“Okay…I-I'm sorry for being a coward…” he mumbled the apology. You just smiled and shook your head. Sighing you leaned into him more and rested your head on his chest again.

Slender arms wrapped around you tightly, Idia rested his head on yours as well. You two stayed silent just matching one anothers breathing taking in each other. You were where you belonged. Your safe place. Your anchor.

“I love you” you whispered, but you made sure he could hear. The blush across his face became redder, embarrassed he buried his face in your hair. After a moment he had enough courage to respond.

���I…love you too…could you…kiss me again “ he spoke meekly. You giggled and cupped his face in your hands before pulling him into another kiss. This onez more soft and meaningful. The house warden basically melted in your touch.

“You're so cute, you know that” You teased, pulling away never letting go of his face. His hands rested on yours as his eyes looked around too embarrassed to meet your face.

“You're going to kill me…

MASTERLIST

[therossgarden]

I am so so so so so TIRED to see people fatshaming two perfectly healthy girls because they have round faces. It’s disgusting.

The actresses of Mai and Azula are on point for their roles. Hell, if they were chosen there must be a reason, it’s not like there’s no Asian actresses out there they could choose from.

People can’t accept that Azula can have a characterization beyond “crazy and sadist sicko”. She’s a perfectionist. She’s an asset to her father. She’s jealous of Zuko’s birthright and of how it might take what she has away. Those are things that OG Azula too had. The only difference is that we actually see it in season one and have a background on her, rather than writing it in a rant. And what has been added only makes her a more complex character, given the change in the family dynamic as well.

And Mai? The actress is talented, she delivers a good Mai, and does justice to the character. She’s 17 and at the beginning of her career, of course it won’t be perfect. She gets to grow. Thing is, you guys won’t let her, because a square jaw scares you so flipping bad that you feel the need to shame her for it.

Everyone is a body positivity advocate until a girl with a rounder face shape is cast as a character in a live action you are NOT forced to watch? Seriously?

I’ve seen so many people on the internet calling them all sort of names, fatshaming them, insulting their work without even focusing on the acting. And I’m like, what’s to fatshame there? Let me tell you: nothing.

If I have to put it through your thick head like this, so be it. Even though I hate talking about and comparing bodies.

This below is a picture of Azula’s actress.

She has the face card, she has the jawline, and she has a fit, enviable body. And you still have the audacity to “fat-shame” her?

These two pictures are in costume. Again, face card and an enviable body. She even has the expression for Azula. You see a girl with a rounder shape of face and will automatically go “no she’s too cute to be Azula!!” Dude. No. When she will actually deliver as the crazy girl we know, she will devour. She will, and you all will switch back because that’s what you are, slimy switchers.

And now, onto Mai’s actress, a very beautiful girl with talent and looks. She is literally so pretty, and you dare hate on her? You dare shame her for how she looks? From what I’ve heard she’s a minor, too, so this makes you 100000% more slimy and undeserving of any sympathy in my book.

This is her, this is the girl.

She’s literally so pretty. Maybe she hasn’t got the same facial structure of Mai, but she delivered all her lines she had in the little screen time and with the discutibile scenes she was given. She was good. But you see a square jaw, a rounder shape of face, and are immediately triggered.

And you can’t even use the stupid argument of “she’s fat”, because this is literally her.

A very normal, very healthy young woman. Not as skinny as OG Mai? So what? She’s still a fricking thin girl. Nowhere as “fat” as you haters make her to be.

I shouldn’t have to explain common sense and basic decency to grown adults, and yet here we are.

This is honestly so frustrating. In the year of 2024 you can’t possibly justify insulting girls like this, with no shame. It’s absolutely idiotic and shows very a big lack of brain cells. I see you, haters, behind your device, with your insecurities and shame for yourself, laughing at two girls who made it farther than you ever will. You can critique the acting once you’ve seen it in full potential. Until then, shut your tramp up. This is very small dick energy of you.

I don’t see why I should treat you with kindness when you are so eager to make this kind of jokes about pretty and in shape girls you are very obviously jealous of. Go touch some grass, incels.

[saturnismyhomie]

christmas astro rant

aquarius risings were definitely the ones who lowkey obsessed over how the whole santa claus thing even works. not the presents, but the whole logistics. at least one in a hundred of us googled "is santa claus real?" at age of 6 or 7.

my mom’s a libra moon, and i’ve noticed this with other libra moons too—their vibe is always “i’ll give only if i get, and i’ll get only if i give.” she’s basically the living, breathing embodiment of the scales of justice. every christmas eve, she’d make this whole meal for santa and be like, “you can’t just take presents without giving him something back. he’s been working all night, he deserves a snack.” (i later found out my dad is the one who had been buying me presents on christmas and he used to have the santa claus meal at night.)

santa could totally be an aqua venus! he'd be all about giving gifts that promote individuality and connection plus, with that humanitarian vibe, he’d definitely want to make the world a little better with every present he gives.

alright this one's wild - so like, my venus is in sag, and i honestly feel like my venusian traits are more prominent during sag season. i get more into taking care of myself, staying in my peak feminine energy, buying more cosmetics, all that. meanwhile, i’m a gemini moon, and my brain is lit during gemini season—more restless, more mentally sharp, and solving problems like a pro. and as a cap sun? i really do feel like the main character during cap season.

and let’s talk about ardra moons for a sec. like, we feel the most intense emotions, and people really have the nerve to call us detached. dude, i wish i could be detached, but that would mean not caring about you at all. are you sure you’re ready for that? or are you gonna hit me with the “she’s so arrogant” nonsense?

random numerology observation : people born on the 5th, 14th or 23rd of any month are certified foodies. most of them also turn out to be amazing chefs. they don't just love food, they understand it.

also, having mars in your 9th house can make you more inclined toward law or engineering. if you're leaning toward engineering, you're probably going to excel in it, too.

wow that was a long post. merry christmas guys x

[nanamissuit]

-`♡´-

Heyyy, I’ve never done a request before (I apologise if I submitted it in the wrong place)

But I was hoping if you could do TF141 x Fem!Reader (smut and or aftercare if you want)

Where reader is a hardworking person who’s stressed and pent up thanks to work, and they just need their love to ease them :(

Thank youu

-`♡´-

Stressed? - 141

Pairing: 141 x GN! Reader MDNI 18+

Warnings: Sexual themes,Fluff,Sexual sayings.

John Price:

He noticed immediately. The way you fidgeted with your hands and how you were pacing in your office in the house.

“Something bothering you sweetheart?” And as soon as you heard his comforting voice you bolted into his arms so he could pick you up.

He picked you up with ease and let you ramble about what was stressing you.

He carried you to your shared bedroom and laid you on your back

“What are you-” “Shhh…Just let me turn off that pretty little brain for a while, yeah?”

And after a good hour, you felt relieved. You laid on your back post-orgasam bliss clear on your face.

“Hmm I’ll be right back baby.” He spoke up quietly and came back within 5 minutes. He had a water bottle and a warm wet rag.

He ran the wet rag across your legs and your hole to clean up the cum that was leaking out.

“Drink some water f’me while I do this.” “Mhm..” Is all you could respond with as you drank some water while he cleaned you up.

You shortly fell asleep after he was done cleaning you and he laid down so you could lay on his chest as he played with your hair.

He soothed you to sleep, and he smiled down at your sleeping body still running his fingers through your hair.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

When you called his name from the front door you just entered he ran to come give you a hug. But he noticed your off demeanor.

“Hi lovie, everything alright?” You lazily wrapped your arms around him shaking your head.

He picked you up bridal style and sat you down on the kitchen counter.

You ranted about your day swinging your feet around as he was making your favorite soup and making comments while you ranted.

“I mean what a bitch right? She just bumped into me without saying sorry!” “Mhm she sounds like a cunt-” “KYLE!! You know that word isn’t nice…But yeah you’re right.”

He giggled a little and poured some soup into a bowl, grabbing a spoon he fed you some as you finished up your rant he smiled and listened to every word you said.

“Mhm, I have a way to cheer you up.” “Hm? What do you mean…?”

He put the bowl and spoon into the sink, picking you up again he placed you down onto the bed in your bedroom.

“Just let me take care of you, I’ll make sure you forget about everything for a bit.”

And he definitely delivered. You felt so much better after. He cuddled you for however long you wanted after and whispered soothing and comforting things into your ear.

“Did so well f’me.” “you look so good like this.” “I’m so proud of you baby.”

He gave you so many kisses and rubbed circles onto your back to calm you down so you could take a little nap. And when you finally fell asleep he smiled to himself and he fell asleep with you shortly after.

John 'Soap' Mactavish:

When you came into the living room after your long and awfully stressful day at work you just slumped on top of John.

“Well hello to you to lass, you alright?” “I’ve had the longest day and I’m so tired and stressed.”

As soon as he heard that he adjusted your body so you were comfortable on top of him as he rubbed circles and dragged his fingers all along your back as you spoke about your day further into detail.

“So then yeah this guy would just not leave me alone.” “What a douchebag. Can’t take rejection I see.” “Right! Ugh I just couldn’t stand him.”

He would occasionally graze his fingers over your ass but you decided to ignore it thinking it was an accident.

But then he sat you up on the couch and got you some snacks and let you pick out a movie in an attempt to calm you down. 

The snacks helped, but the movie didn’t last long because you ended up ass up in the air, face shoved into the cushions of the couch.

“You’re gonna feel so much better once I’m done with you bonnie. Just relax and let go.” 

And when he was done your back hurt sure, but you felt so relaxed.

He got up and ran you a bath putting your favorite candles on the sides of the tub while he lit them and checked the bathtub temperature.

“Bonnie c'mere'! I got a surprise for ya!” “Hm? Can you pick me up?” “Of course, I’ll come get ya.” And he came and picked you up bridal style

He laid out some fresh clothes for you and laid you in the tub dimming the lights he hopped in behind you and he washed your hair as you leaned into him, enjoying this quite intimate moment.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

Now he saw you stressing as soon as you hung up that phone.

“No Jim I already said no-...Are you kidding me? You know what, alright alright bye…SI-” “Right here Lovie, got your favorite movie ready and your snacks and an ICED coffee. I put extra ice.”

You jumped up to wrap your arms around him as you both laid on the bed and started the movie you cuddled up closely to him.

Maybe to close..

One thing lead to another and let’s just say you ended up on his lap. Right on his hardening cock.

“Hm I see…I’ll take nice and good care of you honey just sit nice and pretty f’me.”

And he stuck to his word, you relaxed on his chest after not wanting to get off of him quite yet.

You were basically cockwarming him not moving an inch you just liked feeling full.

You both sat there like that for about 20 minutes before he lifted you up and set you down on the bed as he started a shower for you, you preferred showers alone so you could thoroughly clean yourself.

When you finished your shower he left out some pajamas for you to wear.

And you and him cuddled as he whispered praising and calming things to you.

“You’re gonna be okay.” “Don’t stress, relax I got you.” “You’re safe with me.”

You listened to his words and fell asleep shortly after and he kept whispering things and kissing your forehead.

I LOVED THIS SMMMM AHHHH!!! 🖤

[fairlyang]

Loser 🏹

w/c: 2.4K

pairing: loser!katebishop x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. kate growing feels towards you, gay panic, slight jealousy, pervy, kate masturbates, you hear her

Loser!katie who happened to be your college roommate because you didn't have any friends at your uni to dorm with. You found out that she usually kept to herself, but when you would strike up some kind of conversation she was a bit awkward.

Soon though with newfound confidence she'd grow some balls and start talking to you!

Eventually getting closer and able to have conversations without there being awkward silences.

And then came the stage where she literally wouldn't stop talking. Ever. She finally grew closer to you and felt comfortable sharing stories, her hobbies, and would buy you food.

Loser!katie who would blab on about her favorite superhero but left out the parts where she works with him and only makes it seem like a role model type of fascination or a fangirl for some actor type of thing.

She also loved telling you about her archery and fencing, but she'd go on longer little rants when you specifically would ask her about them given she filled up your shared room with a handful of medals and trophies.

You'd listen intently which soon made her grow flustered for some reason but you didn't notice. You'd been friends for a good three months since having decent convos back in mid September but it became more in Kate's mind.

Loser!katie who had grown to have a fascination with you. Just like she had opened up, you had as well and she swore she could hear your sweet soft voice for the rest of her life if she could.

She already knew she liked girls but never did she think she'd end up in a predicament like this. Having to live with a girl who you now have a crush on.

She'd stare at all your features while you ranted to her about your day or classes. She admired the way your eyes would sparkle or the way your lips would curl into a wide smile when you were happy.

Every time you'd smile at her, she'd feel her face turn red. Her brain would act as if those pretty smiles are just for her but in reality maybe you were just really happy that day.

Loser!katie who happens to be quite a clumsy girl which was shocking because of the sports she does, definitely wouldn't wanna trip while carrying a bow and arrows.

She once accidentally tripped over a pair of her converse she left out on the floor but to her luck and also disgrace, you had caught her.

Her heart was racing so fast and it felt as if the world was moving in slow motion.

"You gotta be more careful Katie!" You exclaimed and carefully brought her body up to which Kate just gulped and gave you a small nod.

Loser!katie who soon noticed you were starting to go out with guys and would mentally (and almost physically) slap herself for thinking you'd like girls.

That was until she saw you making out with a girl at a frat party you had invited her to.

She instantly grew jealous and annoyed. Jealous because she had grown to like you a lot, more than a friend and annoyed because she didn't even know you liked girls.

Who would've known she had a chance this whole time?

So she got to drinking to distract herself. To keep her mind occupied from the jealousy that was filling her every thought.

Had she known you also like girls maybe she would've asked you out. But that was a huge maybe given Kate would practically be blushing and try to not hold eye contact with you at every conversation nowadays.

Loser!katie who left the party early after taking a handful of shots and nearly fell while unlocking your dorm room.

She went to her bed and climbed on top of it before scrolling through instagram to distract herself even further.

Well that didn't work out for her given you had posted something and curiosity killed the cat, she's nosy so of course she opened it.

She was first met with a fit check, you were wearing a tight maroon bodycon dress and she always tried to calm her horny thoughts from appearing but the tequila from tonight did not help her.

Her eyes immediately went to your cleavage. Your tits were sat perfectly, and that bra was doing them justice.

Loser!katie who couldn't help the arousal that was building just by staring at one picture. She laid back into her bed and spread her legs, hands slowly making their way down as her eyes did on your body.

The dress hugged your curves to perfection and as she was holding the screen to that picture she realized you had posted more. After that was a boomerang of you in the bathroom mirror with your tits pressed together.

Talk about impeccable timing.

She bit her lip and quickly took off her pants and threw them on the floor. She then slipped her hand under her boxers and instantly was met with her slick engulfing her fingers.

Loser!katie who let out whimpers as she lightly rubbed her clit into slow circles, imagining its your fingers over hers.

Her hips bucked up and she's never felt so needy and desperate in her life.

Has she reached a new low in this crush?

Was this too much?

Loser!katie who felt like such a perv touching herself to what you've posted just a few hours ago.

She felt very pervy but that wasn't enough to stop her fingers from going faster.

And it definitely wasn't stopping her from letting your name slip out along with moans.

And it didn't stop her from lifting her left thumb up to see what else you've posted. The next was a video of you posing with some friends.

She skipped that.

The next was a picture with some guys.

Skipped immediately.

But the next made her gasp and then whimper.

It was one big picture of you both at the party that Kate somehow forgot you wanted to take. But also had three other smaller pictures surrounding the bigger one.

The bigger one happened to be one where Kate's arm was wrapped around your waist and your hand was gently on her stomach.

Loser!katie who couldn't help but grin that you included her or better yet post multiple pictures together.

It made her heart beat and she just felt so happy.

Just like how happy you were when you saw she had a shirt that was the exact color as your dress.

You didn't even have to convince her to wear it.

She put it on in a heartbeat.

Loser!katie who was now teasing her entrance as she skipped to the next video to see it was you grinding against the girl she saw you kissing.

She groaned, putting her phone to the side, and closed her eyes, leaning her head against the pillow as more jealousy filled her body.

How badly she regretted not asking you to dance at least.

How badly she wishes that was her in that girl's position.

She'd hold you well and maybe even have touched you, sliding her hand down your back as you grind against her crotch.

Kate slips her fingers inside and keeps her eyes closed. She so desperately wanted to cum thinking of you.

Thinking of you grinding against her while her hands were up and down your body.

You'd look so pretty in front of her, throwing your ass back into her.

How bad she'd want to smack it and then fight the urge to drop down to her knees to eat you out.

She was practically salivating and her mouth was running dry.

She started to fuck herself faster thinking of being between your thighs.

Those thick thighs she always seemed to admire.

The ones she so desperately wanted to be in-between.

Loser!katie who was now fucking herself harder that the only sound besides pure silence in the room were her moans and her sopping cunt.

She tried her hardest to keep her voice down but with her imaginative mind, it somehow believed that you were truly the one that was fingering her.

The poor needy moans she was letting out were only growing louder as her mind played games with her.

She was thinking of you between her thighs fingering her and sucking on her clit while she looked down and held eye contact.

It felt so real.

She brought her left hand down and slipped it under her boxers before quickly rubbing her clit because she could tell she was close.

She wanted to cum for you.

"Please- please please-" she whimpered and added a third finger making her whine as well as squirm.

But she took it all and continued her previous pace.

She was imagining you calling her a good girl while pulling away from her clit. Murmuring sweet praises for her while you fucked her like she deserved.

The whimpers slipped out of her mouth creating a sweet melody that surely you would've enjoyed.

And surprisingly were.

Pervy!reader who was on the other side of the door listening.

It was hard not to.

You'd only heard the desperate pleads of "please" and couldn't help but lean your ear against the door because it would be a missed opportunity to do so.

Having a fine roommate? Sure.

Befriending that fine roommate? Love it.

So now it was simply catching your fine ass friend masturbating and you couldn't deny how good she sounded.

Her moans were angelic and you pressed your thighs together while listening.

Meanwhile loser!katie was so close to the edge, feeling her orgasm coming in when she decides to moan your name again.

She lets out a cry before her whole body started to shake and finally she let it take over, hitting her like a tidal wave and a poor needy mess.

She whimpers out your name and lays further into her pillow, slowing down her pace and moving her fingers off her clit.

Her chest was heaving and her thighs were still shaking. She let the horny thoughts take over once and she ends up with a full body shaking orgasm.

She tried to calm down and slowly opened her eyes then softly slipped her fingers out. She whimpered and took both hands out of her boxers before taking her dress shirt off.

She sat up and grabbed a tee shirt she had left on her little coffee table before slipping it on because she didn't wear a bra.

She then got up and quickly went to the bathroom, washing her hands then went back to her bed.

She went under her blanket and laid her head down before shifting and laying down on her side and throwing her left arm over her body pillow, pulling it close.

She went to sleep soon after that and once you couldn't hear any noise you sneakily went in.

Your face was warm and you were left speechless that she was moaning out your name.

Was she thinking of you?

Is that why she left early?

You walked into the room and walked towards her bed, practically tiptoeing because you didn't want to accidentally wake her up.

You pulled her blanket over and covered her so she wouldn't get cold. You then quickly changed and wondered if your friendship would soon change because of tonight's events.

[golden-barnes]

Operation milkshakes, hospital visits and custody of Mr Bear

Paring: Beefy and Teacher! Bucky x milf! reader Summary: Sequel to Operation get Mr Bucky and Momma together. Bucky and Reader are finally on their little coffee date, but Amaya gets hurt. Then there's a shared custody to heal a broken arm. {wc: 2.7k} Warning: a bit of bucky being insecure again and a bit of insecurity from reader . Some sexual references bit of tension but its mostly fluff. Amaya gets hurt but it's brief. if you don't like a milf reader pls don't interact I don't want to get hate like last time lmao a/n: I have been writing this for years it seems and I finally am able to finish it and I'm so happy I hope you guys enjoy it. I am gonna try and finish all of my stories this month to be able to do other stuff. I am so sorry if it's shitty as hell, I tried my best to fight the writter's block Reblogs and comments are appreciated.

Is Bucky embarrassed that he has been texting none stop with his student’s mom? Yes, but who will stop him from feeling like he is walking on cloud nine? For the past few weeks, Bucky has been texting you back and forth whenever you had a break. 

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to get that cup of coffee because of work, but Bucky knew he had found his match. Funny, intelligent, and the sweetest person he has ever met. 

Fuck, I feel like a love-struck schoolboy. Bucky thinks, cursing at himself while passing the exam papers to his students. Amaya smiled at him, basically giving him a knowing smirk. Holy shit, he feels blackmailed by a 6-year-old. 

She has no idea that Bucky and her mom are on a talking stage, but that doesn’t stop her from smirking at her teacher, who her mom has told her auntie that her teacher was cute. And that was enough for her already planning your wedding where she gets to be a flower girl. 

 Bucky sat down at his desk when he felt his phone vibrate. The notification had your name on it, almost making Bucky jump out of his seat. 

Hey, one of my clients canceled for Friday. U wanna get that coffee? 

Bucky couldn’t seem to write yes faster. He felt so happy, but shit, what was he going to wear? His closet comprises of henleys and sweaters. The occasional tank tops are there, but they weren’t the norm. He dresses like a middle-aged librarian, and he is proud of it. But, on the other hand, maybe he was overthinking it.

“Dude, it’s a coffee date. Not a Michelin restaurant.” Steve rolls his eyes at Bucky’s rant. Bucky told his best friends about inner turmoil and why he was so stressed. Sam just laughed at him.

“We don’t know about that one Rogers; she is a fancy lawyer for a fancy firm. She’s probably making the big bucks.” Sam winked at Bucky, which made him feel even more stressed. 

What if they dated, and she felt embarrassed to show him to her lawyer friends? He is on a New York Public school salary, it’s a miracle he has enough money to live alone, but he was going to be rooming with Steve. 

“Sam, stop torturing him, please. I can see the smoke coming out of his ears.” Wanda explained, heating up her lunch and smirking at her extremely stressed friend. 

“He is just so fun to mess with.”Sam whined while Bucky couldn’t help but scoff. 

“I am glad my suffering is your enjoyment, but I am about to run away to New Jersey and live as a hermit because I haven’t been on a date since college, and I have no fucking clue what to wear. Help me.” Bucky rambles, almost out of breath. Sam bites back a chuckle while Steve just looks worried. Wanda sighs; being the only person with brain cells in the teacher’s lounge is difficult.

“Bucky, wear that brown blazer you wore at my engagement party. Maybe a blue henley underneath. You did say she thought you looked hot in those, so who cares, honestly. “ Wanda Maximoff, the voice of reason to these messy elementary school teachers once again. 

Bucky should stop asking these things to Sam and Steve and just ask go directly to Wanda. 

(Y/N) wasn't doing that great either. She really liked Bucky; he was a hot guy but caring and smart. He made her laugh with his dorky quotes and references. He was well-read and gave her excellent book recommendations. 

More importantly, Amaya loved him. Every day she would show up rambling about something he had done in class that made her very happy. Whether it was telling her a funny story using Mister Bear, Bucky’s teaching assistant that Amaya adored, or handing her a fruit roll-up when the other kids weren't looking. Bucky was her favorite teacher, but it mostly felt like he had taken a father role that she needed.

One thing that made her stress out was how she was perceived. She had been on dates before, and every time the men went home running with their tails between their legs after feeling threatened by her confidence and career. 

Being a single mother and a powerful lawyer really fucked over her chances of dating. Apparently, knowing your worth and what you want doesn’t make you that appealing to men, especially these insecure, fragile masculinity-having assholes. 

But Bucky seemed different; he knew she had a kid and an influential career and still wanted to date her? He was different. 

“You still overthinking this date?” Her coworker and close friend, Jen, asked her. Nat rolled her eyes, knowing (Y/N) like the back of her hand. 

“She has been making a pros and cons list on her computer for the past hour. Girl, he likes you. No grown man texts you romantic quotes at 3 am without sending a you up? Text.” Natasha rambles but (Y/N) sighs. She knows what Nat is saying is correct, but still… She didn’t want to make things awkward for ‘Maya. 

“She has it really bad, but he seems so sweet. It’s just a coffee date; get to know him in person.” Jen tried to comfort her. She patted her shoulder, sorta giving (Y/N) a side hug. 

“Now on to date outfits. I say a plaid skirt and a sweater. The skimpiest skirt you have.” Nat grins evilly. 

“It’s a coffee date, not a hookup.” (Y/N) laughs at her suggestion. 

“Whatever you say, but that man’s shoulders are so broad that it wouldn’t be surprising if your legs were on them after the night.” Nat shrugs, but (Y/N) and Jenn laugh at the sexual joke. 

“I am trying not to give Maya a sibling yet.” (Y/N) threw a piece of paper at Nat. 

“Yet is the keyword in that sentence.” Nat winked at her comment. 

Bucky was shifting his weight on the chair. They had decided to meet at this cute little café that opened about a month ago. It was right next to a bookstore that Bucky loved so much, and coincidently (Y/N) took Amaya a lot to get her story time books. 

“Sorry I am late; traffic was horrible.” Bucky swore his breath was stolen from his chest because the minute he saw her, he felt like his lungs didn’t have air. 

“I- uhm, I get it. You look beautiful, by the way.” (Y/N) smiled at his compliment while sitting right before him. 

“You don’t look bad yourself.” She winked at the teacher, who started sweating bullets once she began to compliment him. 

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asks the couple. (Y/N) nods while Bucky just looks puzzled at the menu. She smiled at him.

“Give us a minute, please.” (Y/N) said kindly. 

“Do you have any idea what you are going to order? If you don’t mind me asking?” Bucky asks sheepishly, but the woman just smiles. 

“I am dying to try this plum strudel, especially since Maya isn’t here to steal my pieces. And I need a milkshake.” (Y/N) explained; Bucky couldn’t help but laugh.

“Amaya is a bit of a sugar fiend, isn’t she? I can’t even eat my fruits in peace without her looking at me as if I stole them from her.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) rolled her eyes because she knew her daughter.

“It’s not a shocker. It’s practically my fault. When I was pregnant with her, all I did was eat candy. I have a sweet tooth, but she’s like a sugar monster.” She explained, reminiscing all the pregnancy cravings she had. Bucky laughed at her comment. 

“You sure you don’t want coffee?” Bucky asks all of a sudden. Finding it weird that she is ordering a milkshake at a café. She shook her head.

“Oh god, no. It would be my 5th coffee this day. I’ve had back-to-back meetings, and every meeting has a coffee run. Then there’s the coffee between every 15-page contract I have to write.” Bucky chuckles because that seems like he is the same in a completely different way. 

“I get you. After grading my 10th paper, I’ve already drank 3 cups of coffee. My record is 7 in one day. I was planning on getting the milkshake too.” Bucky joked, (Y/N) laughed. 

“So we are two coffee addicts on a coffee date, but we aren’t gonna drink any coffee. Got it.” (Y/N) smirked at Bucky. He felt his ears getting red. Suck it up, Bucky; she hasn’t even said anything sexual. She is just being funny. Bucky said to himself. 

“It appears that we are. I hope you don’t mind, but I’mma order the same thing as you. I love plums. My ma makes the best plum pie I’ve ever eaten.” Bucky rambled, trying to stop himself from buckling under her gaze. Suddenly (Y/N)’s phone rings. 

“Hey MJ, what’s up? Oh what? I am on my way.” (Y/N) hangs up, her face turns somber, and her eyes are filled with tears. 

“I am so sorry, Bucky, but I have to go. Amaya fell, and the babysitter told me she won't stop crying. Her arm might be broken, and I must take her to the hospital.”  She says, gathering up her purse. She was shaking, trying to stand up, but her legs were shaking. Bucky stands up to help her. 

“Can you drive?” (Y/N) shook her head, worried because Amaya was always careful. She runs around like any normal kid but is ultra-cautious about getting hurt. Bucky extended his hand, and she grabbed it. 

She gave him the directions to her house so Bucky could drive her home. She hadn’t really said anything during the entire ride; Bucky didn’t know what to do, so he did what he did best. Ramble on.

“You know I broke my arm around the same age. But mine was in a fight.” Bucky said, which got (Y/N)’s attention. 

“Back when we were kids, Steve was the smallest kid in our classroom, and there was this kid named Tom; he kept pushing him and making fun of him. So one day, I stood up for him and decided I could fight Tom. I should mention that Tom was 2 grades above us, so anyway, he pushed me so hard that I fell. Broke my arm and wasn’t allowed to go to recess anymore. My teacher, Sally, knew that Tom was a bully and got me a lesser sentence.” Bucky told her. She smiled.

“So you were a troublemaker as a kid. Kinda like my ‘Maya.” She joked, smiling, talking about her little girl. 

“Oh, Amaya is a little angel in comparison to me. She is manipulative as hell, but she’s a sweet kid. Takes after her mom.” Bucky complimented. (Y/N) sighed at his compliment. 

“I tried my best. It’s not easy, you know. Being a single mom. Sometimes I think I don’t do enough and that I am never there, but-” 

“Listen, I have been a teacher for a while now. I have seen parents who don’t care and never show up for their kids. You aren’t one of them. I know for a fact that every Wednesday, you take her to a museum or an interactive place. You are her person, and I think you are a fantastic mom. “ Bucky interrupts. He grabs her hand, and she squeezes it. Bucky parks in front of her house. Her big ass house. He keeps forgetting that she is, in fact, a well-paid lawyer. 

Amaya did indeed have a broken arm. Bucky had to carry her to the car and into the hospital. He even sat with her when she was getting her X-ray while (Y/N) talked with the doctors. 

“I wish all dads were like you.  You really made this a lot easier for her.” The nurse said, looking directly at Bucky, who was holding a very tired Amaya. Bucky felt his ears getting warm. 

“I’m not her dad.” The nurse scoffed at Bucky’s correction. 

“Could’ve fooled me with how she’s so attached to you.” She noted. (Y/N) walked into the room with the doctor.

“Hey, ‘Maya.” The little girl in Bucky’s arms stirred at the sound of her mom’s soothing voice. (Y/N)’s eyes were puffy, probably from crying at seeing her baby in pain. Bucky wanted to hug her and Amaya, but he couldn’t really move with a child in his arms with a broken arm. 

“The doctor needs you to sit on the little table over there to check you out.” (Y/N) said, which caused Amaya to slightly shake her head and grip Bucky’s arm with her non-broken hand. (Y/N) looked at Bucky in the eyes, almost pleading with him to help. 

“Amaya, if you sit there, you’ll get to take Mister Bear for the entire month.” Bucky wasn’t new to bribing kids, it’s sometimes the last resort, but Bucky knew how much Amaya loved Mister Bear. The little girl smiled weakly and turned to look at her doctor. (Y/N) smiled at Bucky, she mouthed him a thank you. Bucky was sure his cheeks were glowing red.

“Please, Mister Bucky, sign my cast.” Amaya said, giving him a pen to sign her super bright pink cast. Finally, she calmed down after they put the cast on her, and she got to pick a color. Then, they returned to (Y/N)’s house, where MJ, the babysitter, was still in the place, worried for little Maya.

Bucky laughed, signing his name on her cast and adding a roughly made butterfly. Amaya giggled at the butterfly. Bucky didn’t even notice (Y/N) walking towards them. 

“How are we gonna do the custody for Mister Bear?” She asks, noticing that Amaya is walking towards MJ so she would sign her cast. 

“Well, I use it as a teaching tool, so I have to have it during the day.” Bucky explained. (Y/N) nodded.

“And I can’t pick up Maya this week because I am in court all day.” She added. 

“I can bring him over after work if you want. “ Bucky suggests. (Y/N) extends her hand for Bucky to shake it. 

“I can agree to that, Mr. Barnes.” She said, smiling at Bucky. 

Bucky could die right now, and he would be happy. But who would’ve known that a ruined date could be saved by a shared custody agreement of a teddy bear with a 6-year-old? 

For the past week, Bucky brought Mister Bear for Amaya to play with. After giving the girl the bear, he wouldn’t leave the house. Oh no, no. (Y/N) would give him food, and he would even eat dinner with them. They talked for hours about shows, movies, their childhoods, and just everything they could think of with a glass of wine. Amaya would go to bed, and they would stay up talking, even if they had to wake up early. 

Bucky and (Y/N) had told Amaya that he was staying over for dinner in exchange for Mister Bear because saying, “Hey, mama and your teacher like each other a lot, but you can’t tell anyone” is too much for a 6-year-old. 

What they didn’t count for was that Amaya was too smart for her own good. She knew it was strange that Bucky stayed for dinner and that her mom would wear her “special” perfume whenever Mister Bucky came over. So is this how she’s gonna get a dad? And all she had to do was break her arm. 

Bucky was talking to Steve when Amaya approached him with a book. Both men turned their attention to the little girl with the bright pink cast. 

“Mister Bucky, Mister Bear and I want to read this book tonight. Could you bring it over later?” Steve’s eyes widened, and he turned to his best friend, bewildered by the revelation made by the kid. 

Bucky nodded, trying not to speak because he felt like Steve would have a heart attack if he had verbal confirmation that he was going to (Y/N)’s house every day. 

“James Buchannan Barnes, are you sleeping with your student’s mom?”Steve whisper-s creamed once Amaya was out of hearing range. 

“I am not sleeping with her… We just eat dinner together, and I bring Mister Bear for Amaya. It’s our custody agreement.” Bucky tried to explain, but Steve looked like the vein on his forehead would pop. 

“Fuck Bucky, you are in deep shit now,” Steve whispered. Wait until Bucky tells him he is utterly in love with his student’s mom. Oh shit, what?

[eldritch-spouse]

HI AGAIN. Ever since I found your blog and also sent a totally normal ramble abt cannibalism I've been just. Gently tossing your guys back and forth in my head. You're a wonderful writer and I'm always excited to see you on my dash!!

Gonna throw my hat in as asking an actual question- How would your guys fare if their obsession had a particularly weird or morbid interest? I get the vibes that some of them would most certainly encourage it but I also feel like Vinnel would hit me with a hammer if I panic infodumped about ebola-

[Hellow, glad to see you again! Also, I know you probably just forgot, but "your guys" encompasses way too many characters to talk about at once, so I'll assume you were going for TCE staff.]

Morell especially likes hearing about your cannibalism infodumps. They're actually useful to him, since he's going to be living with you, and he needs to know what he can and can't feed you, as well as a possible child between you. It's actually interesting stuff, he'd like it if you talked about it to his family too, you're a smart piggy. Any other topics are usually met with less enthusiasm (unless kitchen/food related), and he'll ask you to quit it if you start talking too much about mushrooms. Overall, it's nice background noise to work to.

Patches is all about infodumping. In fact, you're subjected to it often too, even if he doesn't always stop to explain basic concepts you'd need to understand his rambling. He'll give you a recorder he has, so he can keep the sound of that boundless enthusiasm in your voice forever. He's much more participative than the others, asking various questions and tossing random scenarios at you that'll prompt you to learn even more. There's a potential he'll get distracted and stop working to just research this with you the whole day.

Gallon loves a weirdo -No offense- Feel free to dump all that morbidity on him, he soaks it up like a sponge (so does Martin, be careful). Although he prefers to let you speak unhindered, only egging you on when it seems you're getting passionately angry about things, there's a chance Gallon may begin his own little tidbit sharing regarding a variety of poisons and toxins. He's selective with what he lets slip, but figures it could interest you.

Santi likes listening to you. Doesn't matter what it's about. There's only one thing he doesn't want you to morbidly talk to him about, anything featuring kids. Other than that, you think a rant about the intricacies of cannibalism's effects will kill his mood? Hah, nice try. He usually doesn't have anything smart to say, but may actually pitch in with some first hand details if you mention something sexual and morbid.

Let's face it, this is going in one of Grimbly's eardrums and out the other. Unless, you can talk like you're in a true crime podcast, then he's all ears. Grimbly typically responds to these interests by bragging to others about how his Mommy's "so smart" and "cultured" and he learns so much with you! You should start a YouTube channel!

Nebul likes to hear what you think is morbid. He'll let you ramble when you've been good enough to earn his attention, or if it allows you to keep obeying him. He has his own morbidities to share with you, as a wraith who has seen the darkest parts of many a mind. Surely, you of all people would be fascinated to know how the brain reacts to very invasive types of trauma only some monsters can inflict...

Vinnel will use this to his advantage during shows. You're placed in dangerous games where the whole goal is for you to explain said morbid concepts to the audience while Vinnel or Jingles try to destabilize you so you'll fall into painful contraptions or get cut/bruised/undressed. Sometimes Vinnel pays attention to your infodumps, other times he openly doesn't, it's a coin toss.

Belo sincerely discourages you from seeking such dark information in your brain. A lesser's mind is like a canvas, and it shouldn't be furnished with such desolate knowledge... If your morbid interests somehow can shine a glimmer of positivity or utility, the angel will be a little more inclined to letting you keep pursuing these topics. Otherwise, Belo actively attempts to distract you.

Sybastian doesn't understand about 80% of what you're about to tell him, but he has all the time in the world to sit and listen to his favorite person spit words. He's not verbally communicative during these episodes, but he may clap depending on how impressive the information is, and he remembers things you say enough to sometimes present you with paraphernalia vaguely related to the topics of your morbid interests.

Fank-e is a good bet because he can add onto your information in real time, or correct small detail you may get them wrong. He's generally happy to give you links to more information sources and try to match your level of knowledge, uncaring of how dark the subject theme may be.

If there's one thing you can infodump to Krulu about, it would be diseases. Plagues and ailments of several types are his specialty, the chances of him imparting bits of knowledge you absolutely should not possess on this matter are high. Another thing you may infodump to him about is corvids. It gets him in very favorable moods, surprisingly.

[t4t4tclethian]

The moment Joel realizes he has a crush on xB is, objectively, quite a funny one. He’d almost certainly be laughing about it if it had been anyone else. As it is, though, he’s hopping mad, extremely indignant, and deeply embarrassed about the whole thing. Who ever heard of a hitman falling for their mark? (Well, a lot of people have- it’s a whole romance cliche for a reason. But it wasn’t supposed to actually happen!)

(ao3 link)

————————————————

It had all started a few days earlier, when Joel had been hanging out with the other Magical Mountaineers in the breakroom. Gem and Impulse were poring over some papers together, Skizz was on a phone call in the corner, Mumbo was politely watching as Scar fumbled through some magic tricks, and Grian was sitting on the couch with Joel, listening to him rant about his failures at killing xB (he’d drawn the short straw). Everything was normal.

And then, when Joel paused his tirade to take a breath, Grian said those fatal words. “From the way you talk about this guy, Joel, it’s almost like you’ve got a crush on the mark!”

Which was ridiculous, of course! He does blummin’ not, thank you! His relationship with xB was a perfectly platonic contract killing, and Joel is a professional! He knows better than to fall for his target, and he indignantly tells Grian as much.

But, of course, Grian is Grian, and the second he senses he’s touched a nerve he doubles down. And so he did.

“Contract killing? Give me a break, Joel! Your contract on this guy expired ages ago, and you’re not the type to work for free.” Grian’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he continued to needle at Joel. “Admit it, there’s something else going on here, isn’t there?”

Joel spluttered, and took a deep breath as he glanced around the room. Fuck. Everyone had stopped what they were doing to listen in on him and Grian now. He had to say something to throw them off or he would never be able to live this conversation down.

“My contract might be done, but unlike some people I finish the things I start, thank you very much!”

Grian squawked in indignation, and as he did so the others chuckled and turned back to their own conversations, unfounded accusations of romance forgotten. Grian’s tendency to leave things unfinished was well-known, and something that every assassin at Magic Mountain had teased him over many times.

But that thought refused to leave his brain. It had wiggled its way in like a worm. Did he have a crush on xB? Is that why he kept coming back when any sane person would’ve just given it up already? And the answer, of course, is no. All of Joel’s actions here have perfectly reasonable and professional explanations.

————————————————————

Joel waits patiently on the rooftop across from Horse Head Farmer’s Market (which, despite the name, is actually a grocery store/money laundering scheme, not a farmer’s market), rifle at the ready, just as he has been for the past three and a half hours. You can’t rush a good sniping, after all, and xB’s schedule varies enough that Joel’s never quite sure when he’ll head out for lunch. (He’s pretty sure xB has done this specifically to spite Joel- the guy’s obsessed with him.)

Yes! Finally! xB steps out of the store, starts walking down the street, and- turns to look at Joel’s rooftop, makes direct eye contact with him, and gives him a friendly little wave, the infuriatingly sincere kind that makes Joel want to kill him even more. Dammit. He’s been caught. Also, wow, even from here Joel is a little wowed by how blue xB’s eyes are. Or maybe he’s just remembering how they look, because there’s no way Joel can actually see his eyes from here. They are definitely a very nice blue, though, and oh, huh, Joel realizes that Lizzie has blue eyes, too. Maybe he’s got a thing for blue-eyed people, and- OH SHIT RIGHT HE’S KILLING THIS GUY.

Joel fires, because even if he’s been discovered a vantage point is still a vantage point. Of course, xB somehow manages to not be in the bullet’s path, just like he always does, and then he gives Joel a disapproving look, like he’s actually disappointed Joel didn’t do a better job at trying to kill him.

God, he’s so cute, Joel’s brain has the audacity to think, like it’s trying to add insult to insult to injury. To Joel’s horror, he realizes in this moment that he’s had dozens, maybe even hundreds of thoughts like this, that just slipped through the cracks and went unnoticed.

Then, xB smiles at him again before heading on his way, and Joel falls off of the rooftop. He has time to think, Oh, I’m gonna kill Grian, as he plummets towards the ground. And then, everything goes dark, and he dies.

[zedleaked]

What is your opinion on drv3 chapter 2... or just kirumi and ryoma's story/dynamic?

[Lyrics from: 'Julie vs. Robot Julie' by ARTHUR]

I'm probably biased but OUGHGHFGH CHAPTER 2........

It's a running thing with me but I tend to really like the chapter 2s in each game,,, probably cause they involve characters I like [i.e: Mondo, Chihiro, Fuyuhiko, Ryoma, etc.]

[read more if you want to read my rant bc I wrote more than I usually do]

From the very start Ryoma was really interesting to me, especially in chapter one when he offered himself as a sacrifice to stop the time limit,, It was nice to see him slowly get better and try to find a reason to live... but uh... we eventually get to see what happens...

Kirumi on the other hand didn't really catch my eye as much, well I mean her design goes hard but for me, she faded into the background a lot...

Also holy shit this chapter probably has one of the best body discoveries in the series. The chill I felt when Ryoma's body just fucking appeared in the piranha tank and seeing it shortly get torn apart really made an impression on me. It was obvious that something was going to go wrong during the magic show but that was still so shocking to me. Out of all the games, V3 is definitely the one that made me audibly go: "NO!💥💥💥!!!!!" the most

It kinda makes me wish that Himiko and Ryoma had more of a connection before his death or at least had Himiko acknowledge his death more... not only did someone die in her show that was supposed to distract everyone from the killing,, but it was someone who was actually pretty nice to her... But also to be fair Himiko represses her grief a lot, only really letting it out during chapter 3. I dunno I just want the depressed mage and the depressed tennis pro to be besties, is that too much to wish for? <//3

The trial was pretty alright,, to be honest, I was a little annoyed at Himiko for still sticking to her magic shtick even after someone fucking died but I think that was made up for when Kirumi got accused. Oh boy, I said Kirumi didn't catch my attention earlier but this trial made me like her so much. The manipulative shit she says during the trial activated my brain cells, she was willing to deceive the people she'd been surviving with to try and essentially save the country...

It feels like a more personal version of the trolley cart problem: Would you fight alongside these 13 people you've gotten to know and survive with, with the slim chance that you might escape? Or would you take the risk and purposely kill all of them to fulfill your duty and save a whole country? It's debatable if what Kirumi did was really 'selfless' or not. It made her really interesting to me.

And finally... oh my god, Ryoma, man.... The reveal that his motive video was empty and that he had no one to live for broke my heart so badly <//3 poor guy has gone through too much. The fact that he gave up like that, offering himself up to Kirumi is so... RGHARGHR!!!! 💥💥💥,, PLEASE.........

Even though I really wanted Ryoma to survive, I thought that chapter 2 was a depressing but fitting end for him. Like it really sucks bad that he wasn't able to find a reason to live but not everyone can have a good ending unfortunately... I just want to grab him and shake him around GRUGAHRGHH 💥💥💥

so uh in short: me likey chapter 2 I go insane every time I think about it.................

[fizzy-fuzz]

Hi! I saw that your requests are open? I apologize if this request is a bit too uncomfortable for you.

I would like to request some preferably headcanons of SCP-073 and SCP-076-2 when they find out they have feelings for a (preferably male please, there's too many females out there already ;-;, no offense for the women out there) Researcher? Like how do they deal with it, how long it takes for them to confess, etc?

I am desperate for some SCP-073 x Male!Reader, and SCP-076-2 x Male!Reader cause there's too many Female/Gender-Neutral (but still has female traits for some reason) reader ;-;

AN: Hello! Sorry this took awhile... I honestly kept rewriting this because I wasn't sure how to make this feel like it was written for a man, and not just something vague for everyone.

I added a few headcanons for how they'd treat a male lover over a female, So i hope this is okay for you.

if not I'd love to hear some tips on how to make it better, if you're willing to give feedback <3 (just message me, or send in another ask. I can't reply to comments since this isn't my main account)

SCP-073 (Cain)

⁠You both probably ment pretty casually. Maybe during lunch or just passing by in the hallways.

Cain didn't think much of you at first honestly.

Until he was passing by your office and heard you arguing with another researcher about the ethics of using him as an live information vault.

He stopped for a moment and lingered outside of your office, listening to you rant about how it wasn't fair to him.

He was honestly shocked, in a good way.

Cain was used to people being... Decent to him, sure.

But to have someone so passionately argue his happiness?

Unheard of.

Cain is quick to fall for you after that, and boy does he fall hard.

he deals with these new feelings by following his heart blindly.

Often hanging around you and lending hands wherever he can.

When he works up the courage his confession is sickly sweet, filled with stutters and nervous chuckles.

I also feel like he's the type of guy to write a confession poem.

He's just whipped like that.

If you accept, (which honestly, who would reject him?) He'll be overjoyed!

Man or not, Cain takes the lead in the relationship for the most part.

Throwing an arm around your shoulders, holding doors for you, giving you flowers (plastic, of course)

though, I do think he treats a male lover slightly different then a female.

He's slightly less watchful over you, less protective in general.

It's not that he cares less, just that he's less worried about you.

Also, for some reason I feel like he'd play wrestle with a male lover a lot.

Expect to be put in a gentle/playful headlock.

At the end of the day, Cain is still the sweet golden retriever boy he is.

That definitely doesn't change at all.

SCP-076-2 (Able)

He ment you during one of his rampages, when you got separated from the task force that was escorting you to safety.

Left alone with nothing but a small pistol to defend yourself with.

He quickly gained a large portion of respect for you when you held your ground against him despite being just a researcher.

Not once did you look cowardly or frightened, clutching your guns with a rather good poster and stance, despite your minimal combat training.

Truly a respectable sight to behold.

And Able knows a warrior when he sees one.

In fact, you were so ferocious that he paused his pursuit for just a moment to study you.

A moment long enough for you to shove your gun to his chin and blow his brains out.

I would say that's when the first few sparks flew for him.

After that, every other rampage was spent looking for you, and ending with you putting a bullet through his head.

I don't think he's all that in tune with his feelings, so he definitely doesn't get that what he's feeling is attraction, and not just respect/interest

He's got a thick skull, it takes him awhile...

But when he does realize. he's confused, and a little unsure of himself.

He's really never felt this way about a man before.

He's never felt this way about anyone before.

He's felt pretty much nothing but anger and desire for vengeance for such a long time, that this new feeling is as overwhelming as it is relieving.

I imagine he holes himself up within SCP-076-1 for a few days he learns to deal with these new feelings.

Of course you're the one sent in to confront him about his sudden strange behavior.

Since he's somewhat more docile around you.

This is when he takes his opportunity to confess to you.

Don't expect anything heartfelt or romantic, it's more of a spur-of-the-moment decision then anything.

And don't expect any hints beforehand.

He doesn't get a whole lot of privacy, so he thought it'd be a good spot to do so.

You'd probably be pretty confused i'd imagine, considering you thought he had some sort of bloodlust for you.

Turns out it was a different kind of lust

but we're gonna assume you don't reject his sudden confession, and choose to start a relationship with him.

Contrary to Cain, you're going to have to take the lead with this relationship.

I just can't imagine him being a very confident lover.

Confident in battle yes, but in the art of love? Nah, it's just not happening.

I don't think he'd treat a male lover any differently than a female lover.

I just don't think he's aware of typical relationship "gender norms" like that.

He's just as likely to follow you around frothing at the mouth whenever someone gets to close for his liking as he is a woman.

He's very jealous...

But overall, his dreams for you and him stay the same regardless of gender.

To live somewhere remote where it's just you, him, and his herd of sheep.

[elvenisms]

friday —; s.h.

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader [3.5k]

summary: Robin orchestrates the best (and worst) Valentine's Day of your life.

cw: angst, fluff, cursing, no use of y/n, steve is an idiot (per usual), reader cries a lot (relatable), happy ending.

author's note: i got carried away with this, ngl. proof that i cannot write anything fluffy without angst. enjoy!

masterlist

It was Thursday.

Thursdays were good days. You didn’t work, giving you some well-needed rest from wearing that stupid vest, rewinding tapes, and dealing with late returns. You could throw on a movie you’d been meaning to watch for weeks, invite some friends over, and veg out. You could go see a show at The Hideout, if someone interesting was playing. Sometimes, Thursday was laundry day. But today wasn’t any Thursday.

Today was Thursday, February 13th, 1986. The day before Valentine’s Day.

“Vickie and I are going to do something, we just don’t know what.” Robin pushed her lips together, toying with a loose piece of thread on your couch. “I mean, obviously we’ll have a little date during the day, but we thought a group thing would be fun, ya’ know?”

Eddie had come over to watch Day of the Dead with you that day, and when Robin got off work, she called to see what you were up to. “Hanging out with Eds, pretending Valentine’s Day doesn’t exist.” You’d quipped, which is precisely how she ended up in your house, talking about Valentine’s Day.

“As much as I’d love to third-wheel,” Eddie stretched. “I’m going to see a show. Some new guys, but I heard they’re good.”

“Yeah, I’m…” You wracked your brain for something you had to do, trying to get out of it, just as Eddie had. “I’m, uh, working. And then… Oh, I told Max I’d help her study? Some test she has. Science, I think.”

Eddie and Robin both eyed you judgmentally. It was entirely unconvincing, and also a lie. The Max part, anyway.

“Oh, give me a break,” You grunted, their faces saying enough. “I already told you, Rob, tomorrow is just Friday as far as I’m concerned.”

“But you don’t want it to just be Friday,” She remarked. “You want it to be Valentine’s Day, but you’re lonely.”

A huff of air came through Eddie’s nose, trying not to laugh at her well-meaning bluntness. You gave him a sour look, and he quickly dropped it.

“Thank you for reminding me,” You muttered, leaning forward to pick up some empty beer bottles from the table, carrying them to the trash can in the kitchen.

You weren’t actually mad, not at Robin. You were frustrated with the fact that you cared about some stupid holiday, that you couldn’t just be like Eddie, who genuinely didn’t give a shit. Unwilling to admit it to yourself, you were also mad that every guy in Hawkins you’d gone out with was a total disaster; Matthew Campbell probably couldn’t tie a shoelace if you asked him to, and you told him that, so you didn’t suspect he’d be knocking on your door tomorrow.

You waltzed back into the living room to your unsuspecting victims, now on a tirade you’d created in your own head. “It’s not my fault that there is no one in this town for me, okay? I’ve officially given up. I’m tired of putting on makeup, going to Enzo’s, and making awful small talk, for which the reward is a lackluster trip to second base in the back of a ca—”

Robin gasped as if she’d seen a ghost. Your rant halted, staring at her, and she looked back with wide eyes, jaw agape. “How have I never put this together?”

She looked like she’d just had a stroke of genius, discovered a new element, or something. You looked at Eddie, then back to her. “Put what together? That I’m hopeless?”

“No, no no,” She leapt up off of the couch, starting to pace. “You sound just like—oh my God, this is incredible. I mean, this is actually perfect—”

“Robin!” You threw your arms out, exasperated, letting them smack against your sides.

“Steve!” She exclaimed, gripping your shoulders. “Steve, who is also lonely and has no plans for tomorrow!”

Your insides twisted. Steve.

You would’ve been lying to yourself if you said you’d never thought about him that way before. I mean, you had eyes, but your close friendship had never allowed it to last more than a minute. More than anything, the two of you poked fun at each other, constantly trying to see who could get the last word. But you were still close, close enough that you knew he’d come running if you ever really needed him, and that was… nice.

Everything about him was nice, really.

You blinked at Robin, your gears shifting at impossible speeds. She was still holding your shoulders, expectant.

“I think she’s on board.” Eddie piped up with a smirk, and you instantly held a finger out to him, still looking at the girl in front of you. “I didn’t say that.”

“You’re saying it with your eyes.” Robin was containing a giddy squeal. You could almost feel her vibrating. 

“No, no, I’m not.” You finally broke free from her grasp. Now you were pacing. “If Steve was interested in me, he would’ve said something a long time ago.”

Eddie’s brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the same guy?”

“Yeah, dingus, with a capital ‘D’,” Robin gestured with her hands. “I saw a bird land on his head once and he asked me what I was looking at. You think he’d notice he had a shot with you?”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “Okay, that’s… yeah, you’re right. But I’m not just gonna call him up and ask him to be my Valentine. I’d rather puke.”

“So don’t!” Robin spun around, another lightbulb behind her eyes. “I have an idea.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

This was a terrible idea.

You were staring into your mirror, smoothing out the wrinkles on your clothes. You’d gone for not-trying-too-hard cute; a black turtleneck with a calf-length, patterned skirt, and a thick belt around your waist. You’d done your hair and your makeup, satisfied with them, but this time felt… different. You weren’t going to Enzo’s with some tip-stiffing lowlife. You were seeing Steve.

Robin had suggested a gathering at your place. She, Vickie, Nancy, and Jonathan were sitting in your living room, sipping drinks, chatting mindlessly. When she’d invited Steve, she’d said that the four of them were going to your house—assuming he’d pick up the hint, and jump at the chance to be your date. 

And he did.

The real reason you’d never allowed Steve to infiltrate your mind was because, well, that’s exactly what he’d do. You could handle losing Matthew Campbell, or Ben Taylor, or any of these meaningless Hawkins guys you never realistically saw yourself with in the first place; but Steve was close. Close to your friends, close to your heart, inching ever nearer by the minute. 

It was terrifying. But then again, he agreed to come—–and that made your stomach flutter.

Deciding you’d spent enough time making sure every last hair was in order, you took a deep breath, venturing back out to the living room. You were greeted with warm, knowing smiles. 

“You look gorgeous.” Nancy rose from her seat, coming over to give your arms a comforting rub. “Really, he’s not gonna know what hit him.”

You nodded, trying not to look as nervous as you felt. “Thanks, Nance.”

“It makes so much sense, doesn’t it? I mean, I really should play matchmaker more often. I’m changing lives here!” Robin shook Vickie’s thigh where her hand rested, excitedly. It made everyone chuckle.

Jonathan took another sip of his drink. “Now you’ve just gotta find someone for Ed—”

A knock at the door. Fuck. In an instant, every ounce of confidence you had flew straight out of the window. And your face must’ve shown it, because Nancy began soothing you again. 

“Hey, look at me.” She whispered, and you did. “You’ve never been this nervous to see him before, right? Pretend this is just another day. Just… Friday.”

You swallowed. It definitely wasn’t just Friday anymore.

Nonetheless, you shot a weak, thankful smile at her, making your way up to the door. Usually, you’d be embarrassed to let your friends see you this way—taking deep breaths, shaking your hands to relieve some anxious energy. Right now, though, you couldn’t care less, much too preoccupied with the thought of Steve’s face. Just open it. Open the door.

So, you did.

And there he was, grinning adorably, smelling of his cologne, wearing a well-fitted sweater... Holding hands with a girl.

“Hey,” He spoke happily, though his eyes searched your face for just a moment, as if you’d let the shock slip through. “This is Brenda.”

Your whole body stiffened, knowing that the rest of the group heard him, and were now searing holes through the back of your head. Your stomach flipped over on itself, even your organs mortified.

“Hi, Brenda.” You forced a smile at the girl, as if every nerve in your body wasn’t on fire. “Come on in.”

As you turned around, you studied the expressions in the room, seeking some kind of escape. Nancy and Vickie at least tried to look normal, staring at the ground or taking a sip of their drink; Jonathan’s brow was furrowed in disbelief, and Robin’s mouth was hanging open, eyes locked on you.

You quickly walked to the couch where Nancy and Jonathan sat, just standing beside it, your fight-or-flight instinct physically unwilling to let you sit. At least Steve and Brenda would have a spot now, right?

The embarrassment was already making your eyes water.

As the two of them entered the uncomfortably silent living room, you saw his eyes scan the room, similarly to how you had—like he was searching for something. And when he didn’t find it, his eyes landed back on you, any trace of his previous smile gone.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” Brenda chirped to the group, the tension completely unnoticed by her.

You felt suffocated. Suffocated by your turtleneck, by the silence, by Brenda’s curly, blonde hair and perfectly pink lips—but mostly by Steve, who was still staring at you. You refused to look back. 

“Music!” You squawked, mind numb. “We should put on some music, it’s so quiet—” You strided toward your box of cassettes, sat beside the television, and began scrambling with them. “—I’ve got Tears for Fears, or, um, oh! ABBA, everyone likes ABBA, right? Uh…”

Without you even noticing, Nancy appeared at your side, gently grabbing the tapes from your hands. “Hey, hey. I’ll pick out some music, okay?” Her voice was quiet, forehead creased in concern.

Your movements slowed. You nodded, eyes half-welled with tears. The dam was definitely about to break.

“Okay, well,” You stood up again, arms swaying slightly, feeling everyone’s eyes on you. “You guys sit. I’m, um… I’ll be right back.”

You spun on your heel, making your way to your bedroom, closing the door behind you by leaning on it. The tears began to fall immediately, streaking your face with mascara.

You felt stupid. Stupid for ever letting Robin set this up, stupid for spending so much time making yourself presentable, when Brenda looked so effortlessly beautiful. You’d convinced yourself it would be some sort of magical night, which seemed ridiculous now. Why would Steve want you? More importantly, why would you ever let him affect you this way?

Your chest heaved, trying desperately to keep quiet. The last thing you wanted was more pity.

Soon enough, you heard a soft click from the living room, the faint sounds of Kate Bush coming through the speakers. You considered your options: hide in your room until the party was over, risk someone coming to check on you, go back out there and endure stares of sympathy, or… Leave. 

A rush of adrenaline surged through you, bringing you to your feet. You went to your mirror, attempting to smear away the black marks under your eyes—it was useless, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care anymore. Eddie would call it metal. So, for where you were headed, it was actually perfect.

You snatched your purse off of the dresser, the hurt morphing from sadness to anger, and marched out into the living room, making a bee-line for the front door. Everyone’s heads perked up. Your hand met the doorknob, gripping it tightly, before Steve appeared next to you.

“Hey, can you just wait a sec—where are you going?” He spoke softly, avoiding the rest of the rooms prying ears. His voice was hoarse.

You didn’t look at him. “I’m going to see a show with Eddie.”

“Can you let me explain? Please, just—”

Your head turned sharply, reddened eyes daggering through his solemn, brown ones. “I’m embarrassed, Steve. I’m…” You swallowed, fighting back any more tears. “I can’t be here right now. Can’t I just go?”

He brought a hand up, running it anxiously through his own hair. He looked dejected, and despite how much you wanted to hate him at this moment, your heart panged. It wasn’t enough to make you stay; not when Brenda was still on your couch. Not when the rest of the group felt sorry for you.

“Okay,” He finally breathed, barely audible. You started to open the door, and he softly took hold of your wrist. “Just be safe. Please.”

You looked at him, heart thrumming in your chest, eyelashes stuck together from the mixture of tears and makeup. “Have a good night. I’m… I’m sorry I ruined it.”

And with that, you were out the door, despite his attempt to say something else.

 · · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The show was an adequate distraction.

When you’d shown up at The Hideout, scouting Eddie out in the crowd, he was shocked to see you. He was even more shocked to see the state you were in—makeup destroyed, eyes puffy, a hand clinging shakily to your purse. He immediately threw an arm around you, eyes expectant for an explanation.

“He brought a girl,” you’d shouted over the music. Eddie couldn’t have rolled his eyes any harder, squeezing your arm in frustration. “He’s even dumber than I thought then,” He yelled back. 

Steve was dumb. Purposefully dumb? You didn’t think so, and that made it all the more difficult to stay angry.

You were thankful for Eddie more than ever. He was always great at taking your mind off of things, getting you to let loose, have fun; it may have been the worst Valentine’s Day of your life, but at least he had given it some kind of silver lining. It was almost impossible not to smile around him, especially when he was acting extra goofy, insistent on lifting your spirits.

When he drove you home, the events of the night began to set in again. You dreaded your next conversation with Steve, whenever that would happen—I’m so sorry, but I just don’t feel that way about you, you could hear him saying, shoving the embarrassment deeper down your throat.

You considered never speaking to him again, just to spare yourself that feeling.

“Do you want me to come in?” Eddie laid a gentle hand on your knee, his beaten-up car parked a few feet from your door. 

“No, I’m okay.” You assured him, unconvincingly, and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “Think I just need to wallow tonight, y’know?”

He nodded, looking down at his lap. “I’m sorry, seriously. Kind of want to kill the kid.”

That brought a small smile to your face. “Don’t tempt me, I might just give you the go-ahead.” 

The two of you looked at each other, sharing a small chuckle. Eventually, you reached over, hugging him tight.

“Thank you for tonight. Really, I needed it.” You whispered, and he gave your back a comforting rub. “Anytime, you know that.”

You exited the car, already starting to wish you’d said yes to Eddie’s offer, and made your way to the door. Through the windows, you could see that most of the lights were off—everyone had gone home, thank God, though you were sure Robin and Nancy would be calling off the hook to talk about everything.

You jiggled the handle open, greeted by your dark living room, apart from the one lamp emanating warm light. And underneath it, Steve.

Sitting upright on the couch, head leaned back, arms crossed. Fast asleep.

You froze, a tightness in your chest. It was exactly what you didn’t want right now, to see him, have to talk to him. And for whatever reason, something in you was glad to find him there. 

You softly shut the door behind you, sat your bag on the coffee table, and took a seat beside him. The cushion dipping under your weight caused him to stir awake: his head lulled to the side, eyes fluttering open. They widened at the sight of you. 

“Hey.” His voice was gravelly from sleep, and he was quick to adjust himself to a more awake position. He cleared his throat, though it did little for his voice. “You’re home.”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, toying with your skirt. “Did… did you stay?”

“I was worried about you.” He looked into your eyes, and you wanted to look away, but you didn’t. “And I needed to talk to you.”

“What about Brenda?”

“I took her home. Came back.”

“Look,” You started, finding the strength to avert your gaze. “I don’t… I don’t want anyone else feeling bad for me. It was Robin’s idea, and of course you don’t feel that way about me, it was really stupid of me to assume—”

“Stop.” He blurted, somewhat forcefully. You blinked at him. “Please, just stop. I fucked up tonight, really bad. When I got the invite, I thought you’d have someone with you. It just… I’m an idiot. If I wasn’t an idiot, I would’ve never brought Brenda.”

Your stomach flipped familiarly, like it did when you heard a knock at the door earlier. “She was  beautiful, though.”

“She isn’t you.” His hand landed on your thigh, and his eyes darted to it for a moment, as if he hadn’t meant to. You both lingered there.

When he realized you weren’t going to push it away, he continued. “If—if when you went out with Eddie… I mean, if I blew my chance, I understand.”

Blew his chance. You wondered if he could ever truly do that.

“Steve, Eddie was just cheering me up.” You couldn’t help but smile a little, putting your hand over his. “He’s not my Valentine, if that’s what you’re asking. He does kind of want you dead, though.”

“They all want me dead, trust me.” He blew air out of his lips, eyebrows raising.

“What do you mean?”

“After you left, Brenda went to the bathroom, and I got a thorough bitching out.” 

You bit your lip, trying to hide the happiness that brought you. “You kind of deserved it, though.”

“Oh, absolutely.” He affirmed. There were a few moments of stillness, your touching hands drawing both of your attention. 

“Is Brenda your Valentine?” You wondered, voice softer. 

“Didn’t ask her to be.” He looked up at you, voice matching your tone. “Are you still… looking for one?”

Your eyes were locked, melting under each other's gaze. You could almost feel his breath.  His free hand came up to cradle your face, thumbing across your stained cheek. 

“There’s really only one I wanted.”

“Same here.” He whispered.

You quickly leaned forward, disturbing the stillness of the moment, and slotted your lips with his. He tasted like beer and strawberry chapstick, and smelled like a warm summer day—one that broke through the chill you’d been feeling all evening. Butterflies erupted inside you, fluttering in your stomach, your heart, your veins.

Your hands came up to clutch at his chest, the fabric of his sweater crinkling beneath your fingers. The kiss, which had started fervent, softened; the two of you broke apart, and he stole a peck at the corner of your mouth, foreheads resting against each other.

You both took heavy breaths, caused more by emotion than physical exertion, chests rising and falling in unison.

“I gotta make it up to you.” He breathed. You shook your head ever so slightly, a grin playing across your lips. 

“Steve, you already—”

“I’ll be your Valentine every day, for as long as you let me.”

You thought it might’ve been the sweetest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Your forehead creased, trying not to let your eyes water, this time for a much better reason. As close as your faces were, you knew he noticed anyway.

“Deal?” His eyes searched your own, voice small, as if he was afraid you might say no.

You couldn’t stop a happy huff from leaving your lips, a single tear fighting its way out of the corner of your eye. “Deal.”

He beamed, pressing his lips into yours, as if he’d been awaiting the opportunity to do it again.

Steve Harrington became yours on Valentine’s Day, 1986. A Friday. A day you’d almost always ignored, until you didn’t. A day you were almost certain was going to be the worst day of your life, until it wasn’t. In fact, it might’ve been the best. 

Because Steve would continue to be yours each Friday after that—and every day in between, too.

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Shut Up and Drive (Chapter 5)

Roy Kent x F1 Driver!Reader

3.6k words

Warnings: Language, phone sex, masturbation (M and F), lots of pining, Jamie & Keeley being little shits, smutty smut, picture of MC

@agentstarkid !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Series Masterlist

“You get into a fight?”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

Jamie took a sip of his pint. “Cut yourself shaving?”

“Shut up.”

The striker’s grin grew. “Drop your curling iron?”

“Shut up.”

Despite the fact that all he really wanted to do was go home and have an extra-long shower after watching a few choice F1 interviews, Roy allowed himself to be dragged out after the match for dinner at Ola’s. If he’d known he was going to spend the whole time being harassed by Jamie fucking Tartt, he would have told everyone to fuck off when they invited him.

He wanted to scream when Keeley plopped down on his other side.

“Did you see our special guest at the match today?” she practically sang, waggling her eyebrows. “Couldn’t keep her eyes off the dugout.”

“Was kind of busy coaching a fucking football game,” Roy grumbled, slouching, wishing he was like Jamie, who carried around concealer in his stupid little fanny packs. Then he could’ve covered up the gorgeous little mark you’d left on his jaw.

Keeley leaned close. “Well, she looked much less put together than usual,” she continued, as if Roy wasn’t shooting daggers at her. “She had her cute little Ferrari hat, but you could tell her hair was a mess. And her skin was pretty red and blotchy. And she kept squirm-”

“What the fuck are you implying?” he growled, as if he wasn’t the reason for that messy hair and red skin and- fuck- squirming.

“So, where’d you do it?” Jamie leaned forward. “Showers? Weight room? Boot room? Supply closet? Fuck, it was the changing room after all left, wasn’t it?”

Roy stood, chugging the last of his beer. “Right. Fuck both of you, I’m heading home, where no one makes stupid fucking accusations to make their own stupid lives more interesting.” He gave a little salute. “Cheers, pricks.”

He ignored their protests and pleas to stay as he stalked out of the restaurant, nodding to his players as they called out their goodbyes. As he got in his car, he glanced at his phone, gulping when he saw he had a message waiting for him.

You ruined my panties, Kent. Thanks xx

~

For a couple of days, Roy found himself glued to his phone. It wasn’t like the two of you were texting nonstop like fucking teenagers or some shit. Just sporadic messages, murmurings of what you were each up to, some selfies you sent him for the sole purpose of teasing him, and one swear-infested rant about how Jamie almost hit him with the ball during training.

It was only a few messages exchanged, but Roy was determined not to miss a single one.

On Wednesday night, you sent Roy a picture of you in a stunning red dress, complaining about some event you had to go to. It took a lot of restraint on both sides to keep from admitting how badly you both wished he was your date.

Roy stared at his phone, keenly aware of the quickly growing tightness in his pants. Fuck, how was he supposed to respond?

His clouded brain settled for a simple you look beautiful have fun before setting his phone on the coffee table, deciding he needed a drink before he let his horniness take over.

He settled himself on the couch with his beer and a book, but he kept wondering how your night was going. It was probably full of cameras and reporters and people exclaiming about how gorgeous you were, and there were probably multiple guys vying for your attention, guys not as stupid and annoying as his idiot Greyhounds. It was his nightmare scenario, an evening at a public event with plenty of annoying people, and yet part of him wished he was there with you.

Old man that he was, Roy fell asleep, woken up late into the night by his own snores. Wiping the drool from his face and doing his best to avoid dwelling on the steamy dream he’d been having, he turned out the lights and dragged himself to his room, phone in hand.

After stripping down to his boxers, he crawled into bed and let his fingers tap away on his screen until he had pulled up your Instagram. He found a particular video he’d watched several times, one featuring a beach and you wearing a lovely little bikini. His free hand was just dipping under his boxers when the pinging of his mobile startled him, causing him to drop his phone onto his face.

“Fuck,” he hissed, readjusting himself. Fucking Jamie must be drunk texting him again-

Nope. Definitely not Jamie.

Roy gawked at the screen for a moment, taking in the view. Fuck. Now he really wished he’d been with you this evening. Without quite knowing what he was doing, he hit the call button by your name and held the phone to his face, trying to keep his breathing steady as it rang once, twice-

“What took you so long?” Your purring voice had an edge of teasing that sent his heart into overdrive.

“You have a nice time at your thing?” He sat up, trying to keep his voice even; a particular challenge considering the image you’d now planted in his mind.

He could hear your bored little hum. “Not bad. You know how these things are.”

“Yeah,” was all he could manage.

Smiling at the nervous tone in Roy Kent’s voice, you slid off the chair you were perched on and crossed over to your bed, leaving your now forgotten glass of wine on your nightstand before laying down on your belly. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”

Roy stared at the tent that was forming in his bed. “’course not,” he assured you. “I was up.” Shit.

You stifled a giggle at what you hoped was a double entendre. “What were you up to, then?”

Definitely not having a wank to you. “Nothing much,” he managed. “Just laying down.”

“In bed?”

Roy felt relieved to know your minds were both heading in the same direction. “In bed,” he confirmed, feeling his mouth tug upwards. “Your chair comfy?”

You chuckled. “Moved over to the bed myself, actually.” You paused, gazing at the ceiling. “How’s your jaw?”

He let his free hand trace over the beautiful little mark, which he’d admired in the mirror earlier in the evening. “It looks like I lost a fight with a fucking vacuum cleaner, thank you very much,” he joked.

“Anyone notice?”

“Only Keeley. And Jamie. And the whole team.” He rolled his eyes at the memory of all those eyes on his face, all those raised eyebrows and suspicious grins. “Lots of fun questions after the match.”

You rolled over onto your back. “Sorry about that,” you murmured, your tone anything but sorry.

His smile turned soft. “Kind of worth it,” he admitted. He cleared his throat. “Heard you looked a right mess, though,” he teased. “And something about you spending half the match watching the dugout.”

“Yeah, A.F.C. Richmond has this very fit manager.” You absently twirled a strand of hair around your finger. “Gets me all excited.”

Roy licked his lips. “You excited right now?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

Your free hand skimmed the exposed skin of your tummy; you wished it was Roy’s hand. “Maybe. What about you, Roy Kent? Does something have you excited?”

There was a half moment of hesitation at his end. “D’you want the honest fucking truth?”

“Sure.” His pause had you curious about he wanted to tell you.

“I…” He cleared his throat. “I was actually already… getting excited when you texted me.” He couldn’t believe he was admitting this. “Looking at, er, pictures of you.”

Well fuck. You were already feeling frisky- hence the text you’d sent him to start all of this- but fuck, you felt your panties dampen with your arousal. There was no doubt Roy could hear your breath hitch at his confession.

“Which pictures?” you asked breathily, squirming at the image you conjured of Roy, in bed, touching himself and looking at you.

An embarrassed grin crossed his face when he realized his admission had turned you on. “Some fucking Instagram post of you on the beach. You’re in a swimsuit… this fucking bikini and… yeah.” He ran his free hand over his face.

Roy Kent didn’t have phone sex. Sure, he’d received more than a few dirty pictures over the years. And he and Keeley had liked to text each other what they wanted to do once they got home. But lying in bed, all alone, spurred on by his own imagination and the sound of your voice?

He’d try anything once. For you, at least.

Your breathy giggle had him feeling slightly less embarrassed. “Yeah, I know that post,” you murmured. “You often go stalking through my Instagram?”

“Sometimes,” Roy admitted softly, biting his lip. “Like you said, good way to relax before a match.”

“It’s not before a match, Roy,” you pointed out, your face on fire at the thought of Roy getting off to photos and videos of you.

Roy’s low chuckle had your entire body pulsating. “You got me there,” he hummed. “Maybe I was… just thinking of you.”

The smile you wore felt far too giddy; you needed to get this conversation back on track. “And tell me,” you asked in your most sultry voice, “what did those bikini photos make you think of?”

He got the hint. “Made me think of when you visited us in Leeds,” he murmured, his free hand dipping below the sheets again. “You, on your knees. Just the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life.”

Your own hand traced a trail down to your already wet panties. “That was fun,” you sighed. “You were pretty fucking delicious.”

“Was I?” Roy palmed himself through his boxers; fuck he was hard.

“Uh huh,” was all you managed as you let a single finger trace your pussy lips through the damp material. “Just wish I could taste you now.” You held in a moan as you began to stroke yourself. “What do you wish I was doing right now?”

Roy’s chuckle was dark, sexy as all hell. “Well, I would love it if you could help me with this fucking boner you gave me.” He wrapped his hand around his clothed cock.

You grinned, mouth practically watering at the thought of Roy Kent’s hard dick. “What makes you think I’m not going to help you?” you purred. “Of course, you’re going to help me with my own little situation.”

His cock twitched in his hands. “And what situation would that be?”

Even though he couldn’t see it, you gave a little pout. “Well, I’m laying all alone in bed, and my panties are getting all wet. Any suggestions?”

“Fuck,” he huffed, stroking himself. “You should- shit- I dunno, touch yourself?”

Roy’s face was bright red. Not for the first time with you, he felt so fucking old. He didn’t know how to do this, or what he was supposed to say. His embarrassment was almost enough to kill his boner and make him hang up.

The soft groan that came through his phone brought him back. “Under or over my panties?” you whispered. You weren’t stupid; Roy Kent was not the kind of guy who had these kinds of late-night conversations. But the adorable earnestness and desire in his voice had you wanting to guide him through it. Mostly, though, your horniness had you refusing to hang up on that stunning man.

He had to admit he was grateful for the help. “Under,” he husked. “Go under.”

Eager to please, you did as you were told, dipping your hand under the soft material. You let out a sigh as your fingers grazed your wetness. “What about you? Are you touching yourself for me?”

Those last two words had him shuddering. “Over my boxers,” he admitted. “Should I, er, change that?”

“Yes, please.” You had to stop yourself from completely begging as you slid one finger through your slick. “Fuck, I wish it were me.”

“Me too,” Roy groaned as he slid his hand into his boxers and wrapped his hand around his hardness. “Fucking wish you were here, that gorgeous mouth of yours.”

You closed your eyes and brought your finger to your pulsing clit and began rubbing slow circles. “Fuck, Roy,” you breathed. “How hard are you right now?”

Roy sighed as he began stroking himself. “Really fucking hard. Just for you.” He licked his lips, thinking of you, laying in bed, touching yourself, writhing around, thinking of him. The image was better than any bikini photo. “Wish you were here to do something about it.”

“Oh, I’d do a lot about it if I was there.” You increased the pressure on your clit, hissing at the pleasure. “I’d be on my knees for you, Roy Kent. And I’d swallow everything you had to give me.”

“Actually,” Roy chuckled, his mind conjuring up some dirty pictures. “Would love to see those tits of yours all covered. Bet you’d look fucking great.”

Your soft moan told him you liked the sound of that. “Next time,” you breathed, moving away from your clit and to your needy cunt. “You can cover me all you want next time.”

His cock twitched at those two magical words: next time. “Where’re your fingers?” he asked, letting his thumb sweep over the precum that was leaking out of him. “Fuck, please tell me they’re inside that pretty pussy.”

Fuck. It was as if he knew. Of course Roy Kent knew. You answered him with a lewd moan as you slid a finger inside yourself. “Yeah,” you cooed. “It’s really fucking wet for you, Roy.”

“Fucking love when you say my name,” he rasped, increasing his pace. “Fuck, can you say it again?”

You were more than happy to oblige. “Roy,” you whined, adding a second finger to your wetness. “Fuck, Roy.” You let out a whimper as you pumped in and out. “I wish you were fucking me, Roy. Fucking me the way you did in the boot room that day, all fucking desperate and dirty.”

Roy’s eyebrows flew up. “You like it dirty then?” he teased, relishing the memory of you in the boot room, head thrown back as you tried to keep quiet, looking like a fucking goddess. “That’s really fucking good to know.”

“Why?” you shot back, grinning as you pictured his sexy smirk. “You going to give it to me dirty?”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Roy was starting to like this phone sex thing. He could get used to it. “Babe, I want you on this bed on all fours. Then I’ll show you desperate and dirty.”

You weren’t sure what had your pussy clenching around your fingers- the confidence in Roy’s voice, the image of you on your hands and knees for him, or the sweet pet name he growled out, not to mention the idea of being fucked in Roy Kent’s bed. Either way, you let out a little whimper as you began to squirm on your mattress.

That whimper had Roy moaning. “Fuck you sound beautiful,” he cooed. “You always sound so beautiful. Bet you’d sound beautiful in my shower.”

“You want me in your shower?” You couldn’t help smiling at the image- you, pressed up against a steamy glass door, Roy having to hold you up because you can’t feel your legs anymore, that perfect cock stretching and filling you.

The idea was almost enough to make you ignore the fact that Roy Kent had now mentioned having you over twice over the course of this phone call.

“I want you every-fucking-where.”

Your hips rocked against your hand as you listened to Roy’s ragged breathing, his soft moans. Your skin grew warm as you wondered if he could hear the wet sounds filling your quiet bedroom, sounds he usually helped you make in hotel rooms and, apparently, locked boot rooms. You wondered how it would sound if he was making those noises with you here, now, in your bedroom.

Fuck that sounded good.

“’m getting close,” Roy growled, his voice strained. “Wanna hear you come, gorgeous.”

Your pussy clenched at that word. Gorgeous. Hearing Roy call you that sent a shiver through your whole body; it seemed to be his favorite word to call you.

“Fucking want you,” you managed to whine as you pumped in and out of your soaked cunt, wishing that your fingers were Roy’s cock. “Fucking need you inside me, Roy.” Your release grew closer and closer as your back arched. “That fucking cock stretching me out.”

“Bet those fingers of yours aren’t as good as my cock,” Roy groaned, his grip tightening as he felt his own orgasm approach. “Love burying it inside you, fucking you the way you deserve. Like a fucking queen. My fucking Empress.”

Electricity flowed through your veins as you let out a silent moan.

Somehow, he knew.

“Let me hear you, gorgeous,” he begged, eyes screwed shut. “Let me hear those pretty fucking sounds.”

“Fuck, Roy,” you moaned, louder now as pleasure overwhelmed you. “Fucking coming for you. Coming for your cock,” you babbled, thrusting your fingers as deep as you could. “Wish you were here. Wish you were inside me.”

Listening to you come for him had Roy following you over the edge. “Fuck,” he hissed, feeling his cock jerk. “Love your pussy,” he stammered. “Fucking want to fill it up. Fill you til it’s leaking out of you, dirty fucking girl.”

Your moans turned high-pitched as you climaxed, your cunt so tight you wondered how the fuck you managed to fit Roy Kent’s thick cock inside. You nearly dropped your phone, but instead tightened your grip on it, not wanting Roy to miss a single moment of you coming just for him.

He moaned your name as he spilled over, not caring about how he’d have to change his sheets. Pump after pump, his release dripped onto his hand, a hand he desperately wished was your hand. Or mouth. Or cunt.

You collapsed on your bed with a groan, coming down from your high, listening as Roy’s breaths became just as soft and ragged as your own. With a sigh, you pulled your fingers out of your soaked pussy; you rubbed them together, wondering when you last got this wet on your own.

Then again, were you really on your own tonight?

“You… you come for me?” Roy’s voice was so soft, so gentle.

“Yeah,” you assured him, your eyes fluttering shut. “Just for you, Kent.”

His chuckle had your heart fluttering even more than your pussy just had. “Good, good, I’m glad.” He paused, unable to help the smile that grew on his face. “That was…”

You giggled and stretched your free hand over your head. “Yeah, it was.”

Roy was quiet for a moment, choosing to ignore the mess beneath his sheets. “I liked it,” he admitted. “A lot.”

“Good.” You gave a little wiggle, reveling in your post-orgasm bliss. “Could do it again sometime. If you want to, that is.”

“Oi, careful,” he warned playfully. “You might get me addicted to this shit. Almost as addicted as I am to you.”

Fuck. Did he really just say that?

You let out a nervous little giggle, pretending you weren’t obsessed with the words that slipped out before he could think about them. “Maybe I want you addicted.” You paused for a moment, wishing you were in his arms, and scolding yourself for it. “Hey, I should, er, probably clean myself up.”

“Yeah, yeah, me too.” Roy cleared his throat. “Can I call you back after?”

“I’d like that.”

Once you’d cleaned yourself up and thrown on a clean pair of panties and your Greyhounds sweatshirt- a choice you tried not to think too hard about- you turned off the lights and settled into bed properly. Just as you were wondering if Roy would actually call you back, your phone vibrated; you grinned when you saw Roy Kent appear on your screen.

“Hey.”

“Hi there,” he hummed, resting a hand behind his head as he stared up into the darkness. “How… how’re you feeling?”

His nervous tone had you snuggling lower into your bed. “Pretty darn good,” you assured him. “You?”

“Yeah, fucking good.” He smiled in spite of the shyness he suddenly felt. “You’re really somethin’, you know that?”

You turned onto your side, stretching your free hand over to the side of your bed that suddenly felt far too empty. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

His smile grew. “You’re just… kind of amazing.” He felt himself start to gush; fuck, he couldn’t help it. “I don’t fucking know. Don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you.”

Your body buzzed with delight, more from his affectionate rambling than your post-orgasm bliss. “Anyone like me?” you teased, urging him on.

“Oh, fuck off,” he laughed, shaking his head at your coyness. “You’re incredible. Fucking gorgeous. Badass as all hell. So fucking confident. Damn funny. And, well, you’re not bad in bed.” He sighed, closing his eyes. “Fucking dream come true.”

Oh hell. Roy’s words punched your heart with each syllable, making you forget about all your resolutions about not falling for the gruff, sexy manager. “You’re pretty wonderful yourself,” you heard yourself admit. “And I’m not just talking about the fact that you made me orgasm over the phone.”

You weren’t sure how much longer you stayed on the phone with Roy Kent, murmuring sweet nothings back and forth before moving on to general chitchat, the conversation flowing as naturally as it did when you were in his arms after sex. The last thing you remembered before you slipped into sleep was the sound of Roy Kent sleepily mumbling, “I really fucking miss you.”

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[acehoons]

fake dating with jungwon . . !

☆! yang jungwon x reader. fluff(?) semi-angst. requested. ‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ[ 🎧 ] now playing . . boyfriend by big time rush

a/n: i might have projected myself a little into this one >< oh to have a yang jungwon in my life ㅠㅠ

you were never usually the one to date around

but sometimes, desperate times call for desperate measures

having your name known in high school had its ups and downs, you realized

you wouldn’t call yourself pretty or even popular, but you knew deep down that a few people found you attractive

with the way they approached you or tried to get your attention; you weren’t dumb nor were you blind

you didn’t mind it at first. you admit you liked a little attention here and there

but when things got too far, you knew you had to put a stop to it

more utc

you weren’t sure how many people had a crush on you, but you knew that there were some

at first, you paid no attention to it, and was even thankful, in a way

but when your suitors realized that you wouldn’t budge, they started to up the ante

from receiving harmless love letters and the occasional chocolate bar, it suddenly evolved into date invitations bouquets and jewelry as gifts

albeit you find the gestures kind, but you didn’t really want anyone to keep spending money on you in fear of leading anyone on

what’s worse is, your faceless suitors have decided to show themselves to you, and to the entire school

most of them confront you in the halls, asking when you’ll accept their courting

others passively wait for you to choose them as your boy/girlfriend

so, on a random tuesday, when your countless suitors are busy bugging you on your way to your next class,

you frustratingly exclaim, “i have a boyfriend!”

now the problem was: you didn’t have a boyfriend

but things were escalating too fast and you just wanted it to stop

you had no heart to reject any of them but you also wanted them to keep their distance

so this was the next best option.. right?

your plan started to go downhill quickly when one of your suitors asked, “who is it?”

you panic, trying to think of a fake name or even someone that doesn’t go to your school

but your mouth worked faster than your brain, and you found yourself saying “jungwon”

“yang jungwon?” someone asked

yang jungwon— the school vice president, soccer team captain, top of his class. also your best friend since both of you were toddlers

“yeah.” you say, feeling unconfident about your plan, afraid that any one of them would peak through the cracks of your lie

but thankfully, none of them do. they leave you be, grumbling about how you’ve been dating jungwon but never said anything

however, for the first time in a while, no one bugs you for an entire day.

you receive no gifts, no guys waiting outside your door to walk you to your next class, not even a passive aggressively suitor “accidentally” bumping you in the halls

your relief is short-lived, however, once classes end and you have to meet up with jungwon

the two of you always walk home at the end of everyday since you’re both neighbors anyway

“hey,” he greets you by the gate. “how was your day?”

“fine.” you reply

the two of you didn’t share any classes, since jungwon was a year higher than you, so most of your walks consisted of you and jungwon talking about your day

he knew about your countless suitors, and was half expecting you to rant about another absurd situation with one of them

but instead, you were quiet the entire time

and he immediately knew that something serious was up, because you were never quiet

“you ok?” he’d ask, genuinely worried about you

absolutely anxious about what you had said earlier in the hallways, you found yourself asking jungwon the craziest question

“canyoubemyboyfriend.” you say, the words jumbled with how fast you mumbled them

“what.” jungwon would just stare at you, stopped in his tracks

you sighed, deciding to tell him what happened: the suitors, what you told them, and how you want the entire ordeal to just be over with

“so.. you told them you were dating me?” he asked, piecing the situation together.

“yeah.” you said. “i’m just so tired of them bothering me all the time.”

“yeah, i can tell.” jungwon laughed.

awkward silence filled the two of you as you continued your walk back home

you treated jungwon’s silence as rejection. you decided to just leave it be, thinking of another solution for tomorrow

but when the two of you made it to your front porch, jungwon suddenly says,

“i’ll do it.” he says

“huh.” you stared at him, unsure if you heard that correctly

“i’ll be your boyfriend.” he nonchantly says, hands in his jacket pockets.

“seriously??” you said, not expecting him to agree.

“yeah. if it means keeping those creeps away from you.” he said

you were so ecstatic of him agreeing that you didn’t think much of what he said

you threw yourself unto jungwon, giving him a tight hug

“thank you, thank you wonnie! you’re a life saver.”

he merely smiles, hugging you back

“let’s talk about it tomorrow.” you said, pulling away

you bid jungwon goodbye and walk back to your front porch, and into your front door

unbeknownst to you, jungwon looked at you the entire time

with a sad smile on his face, he leaves for his house and worries about the repercussions tomorrow

a/n: i actually liked this one a lot! lmk if you’d like a part two, or if you want to make this into a multi-parter ^^

acehoons © 2023