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ducktoo · 3 days ago

Text

Again

IVE’s Jang Wonyoung x M!Reader

Note: I have resorted to the sacred prompt list by Anon again….this helped me so much frrr. Hope you will post your first ever fic here so I can tagged you!!

This concludes the unofficial (or official ig) IZ*ONE marathon. @hyeyulenjoyer hope this was a fun ride for you. And thank you everyone for enjoying these fics as well! Also appreciate IVE for paying respect to the recent tragedy. All the dumb haters who find ways to hate them again....just touch grass pls.

(this was the perfect picture for this fic lol)

The tickets sit on your desk, undisturbed, their glossy surface catching the dim glow of your bedside lamp. You don’t even need to read the text printed on them anymore. The details are already burned into your brain.

A fan sign.

It was supposed to be special. The kind of thing you looked forward to for weeks, marked on your calendar with a little star. You were supposed to show up, tease her about messing up choreography, make her laugh in the middle of a serious performance, see that look in her eyes that was just for you.

Now, the tickets feel like a joke.

Your phone is face-down beside them, dark screen hiding the messages you haven't opened yet—the well-meaning texts from friends, the casual work notifications. All messages except from her.

Wonyoung.

You close your eyes, but it doesn't help. The memory of your last call with her is still fresh, the words playing over and over like a song stuck on repeat.

"I just don’t have time for this anymore."

"For us, you mean?"

"Mhm."

The way she said it—calm, measured, like it was just another item to tick off on her to-do list—had made something inside you crack. There had been no anger in her voice. No hesitation.

That…hurt more than anything.

You had wanted to say something, anything to make her stop. To remind her of the nights spent whispering over the phone until she fell asleep, of the rare moments when she let herself be vulnerable with you, of the way she would light up the second she saw you waiting for her backstage to take her to eat a whole cow together.

But you couldn't mutter a voice.

You had just sat there, phone pressed to your ear, fingers gripping the fabric of your hoodie so tightly it threatened to tear.

And then, just like that, she was gone.

It was three days ago.

Three days of checking your phone too often. Three days of convincing yourself you were fine. Three days of staring at these damn tickets on the desk and trying to figure out why you hadn’t just thrown them away. You should sell them. Give them to someone who’d actually enjoy them.

But something stops you.

Maybe it’s pride. Maybe it’s stubbornness. Maybe it’s the stupid, lingering part of you that refuses to admit that she’s really gone. Whatever the reason, you find yourself gripping them tighter instead of throwing them away.

You decided that you will go.

Not for her. Not to see her.

Just so you don’t have to sit in this room, drowning in thoughts of what used to be.

That’s what you tell yourself, anyway.

The venue is packed.

Fans shuffle forward in line, their chatter buzzing in the air like static. Excited whispers, rustling light sticks, the occasional squeal when a favourite member’s name is mentioned.

Your fingers tighten around the album in your hands. (Ironically you still hold onto her album)

This is normal for them. For the fans around you, this is just another fan sign. A chance to meet their idols, to share fleeting moments, to walk away with a signature and a memory they’ll cherish for years.

You should feel the same. Instead, you’re just… tired. Who could blame you, you’re about to come face-to-face with your ex-girlfriend.

And she has no idea you’re here.

Your grip on the album tightens as the line inches forward. The first few members greet you with polite smiles, their voices light and bubbly. You do your best to respond normally, but your mind is elsewhere, trapped in the inevitable moment that keeps creeping closer and closer.

You don’t need to look up to know she’s at the end of the table. You can feel her presence.

And then, suddenly, there’s no more time left.

Your album slides across the table. Long, slender fingers stop it in place.

There’s a small pause—so brief that no one else seems to notice—but you do. You feel it in the slight delay before she looks up, in the way her fingers tighten just a fraction around the album’s edge.

And then her eyes meet yours.

She looks the same. Flawless, as always. Every strand of hair perfectly in place, makeup soft and ethereal under the bright overhead lights. And those sparkly eyes that you often got lost in.

But…she’s not yours anymore. Not at all.

There was a flicker of something—recognition, surprise, something deeper—crosses her face. But it’s gone in an instant, replaced by a carefully neutral expression.

Her lips part slightly, but no words come out at first. Then…

“Hey.”

It’s awkward. Too awkward. You can feel the tension hanging between you, thick and suffocating.

You swallow, trying to ignore the way your chest tightens. “Hey.”

For a split second, she looks like she wants to say something else. Like she wants to break the script, ignore the rehearsed greetings and practiced smiles.

But then—

She doesn’t.

Instead, she picks up her pen, the mask slipping back into place. Her expression evens out, and in a voice so perfectly professional it almost stings, she says,

“Thanks for coming.”

Just like she would to any other fan. That made your stomach twists.

You should’ve known. Of course, she wouldn't acknowledge it. Not here. Not in front of all these people.

Still, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

You swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah. Would’ve been a waste of money if I didn’t.”

Something flickers across her face, but it’s gone before you can catch it. She presses her lips together, nodding slightly. “Right. Can’t have that.”

She signs her name, her handwriting as neat and practiced as always. But there’s a hesitance in the way she moves, a slight delay before she lifts the pen from the page.

When she finally pushes the album back toward you, her fingers linger just a second longer than necessary.

Then, in a voice so quiet that only you can hear…

“Take care, okay?”

She’s looking at you now. Really looking at you.

And for a moment, just one fleeting moment, she’s not the Jang Wonyoung, the IT girl, the global superstar.

She’s just…Wonyoung.

The girl who used to call you late at night just to hear your voice.

The girl who used to lace her fingers through yours under the table when no one was looking.

The girl who told you she didn’t have time for you anymore.

You stare at her.

The words stick to your throat. You genuinely don’t trust yourself to say anything.

So you just…don’t.

You just take the album, stand up, and walk away. And even as you disappear into the crowd, you can still feel her eyes on you.

You’ve been doing fine.

Or at least, that’s what you keep telling yourself.

It’s been a few days since the fan sign, and you’ve buried yourself in anything that keeps your mind occupied—work, games, mindless scrolling through your phone. Anything to keep yourself from replaying the look on Wonyoung’s face at the fansign. From remembering the way she hesitated before handing your album back. From thinking about the way her gaze kept flickering toward you as you walk away, as if she was looking for something.

Or someone.

But that’s not your problem anymore. You told yourself that the moment you left the venue.

Which is why, when your phone starts ringing at an ungodly hour, you almost don’t check the caller ID. Almost.

The second you see her name flashing on the screen, your stomach twists.

Jang Wonyoung.

The ringing continues, each second stretching unbearably. You should let it go. Turn off your phone. Pretend you never saw it.

But you don’t. Because deep down, you know you still want to hear her voice. So you answer.

“...Hello?”

There’s silence on the other end for a moment, followed by a soft giggle—breathy and drawn out, the kind that used to slip past her lips whenever she was feeling particularly affectionate.

"Dummmyy!" she hums, stretching your nickname like it’s some sweet, familiar melody.

“Wonyo. Are you drunk?” You sigh, ignoring the way your nickname for her easily rolled out of your tongue.

She giggles again, the sound loose and unguarded. "Mmm… maybe."

"Goddamn it." You rub your temples. "Where are you?"

A rustling noise filters through the receiver, followed by the distant hum of traffic. "Somewhere," she mumbles. "Some bar, I think. The girls took me out."

Figures.

You shift in bed, propping yourself up against the headboard. “It’s late.”

“I know,” she says, not sounding the least bit apologetic. “But I wanted to call you.”

You close your eyes, exhaling through your nose. “Why?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, there’s a soft exhale, the kind she lets out when she’s gathering her thoughts. Then, quieter…

“Because I miss you.”

Your fingers tighten around the phone.

"Don’t do that," you say quietly.

"Do what?"

"Say things you don’t mean."

Another pause. When she speaks again, her voice is steadier. "But I do mean it. I do miss you."

You swallow, trying to keep your voice steady. "Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it?"

She goes quiet.

For a moment, all you hear is the faint sound of music in the background, the distant chatter of people. She’s probably in the back of some high-end bar or a private lounge that someone of her status often went. You can picture it too easily—her long hair falling over her shoulders, her lips painted red, the glow of the city lights reflecting in her eyes.

Your heart beat rapidly at the image.

"You came to the fansign," she says suddenly, cutting into your thoughts.

You rub at your temple. "Mhm."

"Why?"

"You already know why."

"Say it anyway."

You sigh. "Because I had the tickets. It would’ve been a waste."

She lets out a humourless laugh. "Right. Can’t have that."

Something about the way she repeats your words from that day makes your stomach twist.

There’s another long pause. Then, almost hesitantly.

"Did you feel anything?"

Your eyes widened. "Feel what?"

"When you saw me again." Her voice is quieter now. "Did you feel anything?"

Your jaw clenches. You want to lie. Want to say no, not at all. That it didn’t matter. That she doesn’t matter. But you can’t.

Because the truth is, you felt everything.

The way your heart clenched when she looked at you. The way your stomach twisted when her fingers hesitated over your name. The way your mind screamed at you to move on, to stop letting her affect you, to stop caring.

But you don’t tell her any of that.

Instead, you settle for, "Who cares anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because we’re done, Jang Wonyoung."

She sucks in a sharp breath, and for a second, you wonder if she’s about to cry.

"You-" She stops, swallows. When she speaks again, her voice is unsteady. "You didn’t even try to fight for me."

Your grip tightens around the phone, knuckles turning white. "You were the one who ended things. On the phone, may I remind you."

"I know," she whispers. "And I thought it was the right choice. But now I just—" She breaks off, voice cracking slightly. "I don’t know anymore."

You shut your eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. To tell her that you don’t know either, that you still think about her, that you still wonder if maybe—just maybe—this wasn’t supposed to end like this.

But what’s the point?

She made her choice.

And you’re tired of being the one left picking up the pieces.

"You’re drunk, Jang Wonyoung," you say, voice carefully even. "Go home and go to sleep."

"Wait—"

"Goodnight."

And then, before she can say another word, you hang up.

The silence that follows is deafening.

And yet, for the first time in days, you finally let yourself breathe.

Or at least, it should be.

You did the right thing, you tell yourself—cut it off before it could spiral any further. Before you let yourself believe, even for a second, that anything has changed.

But still, the weight in your chest lingers.

The room feels too quiet now, the kind of silence that presses in from all sides, making it impossible to ignore the thoughts creeping into your head. You lie back down, throwing an arm over your eyes, willing yourself to sleep.

You don’t know how much time passes before you hear it.

A knock.

You freeze.

At first, you think you’re imagining it. Sleep-deprived, emotionally drained, and still reeling from that damn phone call, your brain must be conjuring things that aren’t real. But then, the knocking got more insistent. Erratic, yet insistent.

Your brows furrow. You sit up, straining your ears.

"Who the hell…?"

It’s almost 3 AM. No one in their right mind would be visiting you at this hour. Then again, you just got a call from a drunk girl not in their right mind.

Knock, knock, knock.

It’s louder this time, clumsy and uncoordinated, like whoever’s on the other side can barely keep their balance. A sinking feeling settles in your stomach.

You begrudingly throw off your blankets and push yourself up, padding toward the door. Your hand hovers over the handle for a second before you sigh and pull it open.

And there she is.

Wonyoung.

She’s standing there in the dim, flickering hallway light, wrapped in a thin coat that does nothing to protect her from the cold. Her long hair is slightly tousled, the glossy perfection from the concert gone, strands falling loosely over her shoulders. She sways just the slightest, a delicate wobble on unsteady feet. Her lips are slightly parted, eyes glassy—not just from the alcohol but from something else. Something unreadable.

You blink.

She blinks back, like she’s just now processing that you’re standing in front of her.

Then, with absolutely no warning, she wobbles forward, collapsing against your chest.

You barely manage to catch her. “Jesus—Wonyo.” You gently hold her arms, steadying her. “What the hell are you doing here?”

"Surprise," she breathes, half-laughing, half-sniffling.

You let out a sharp breath. “Surprise? You’re seriously—” You stop yourself, jaw clenching. “How did you even get here?”

"I took a taxi," she announces, like that explains anything. Like that justifies her showing up at your door past midnight after breaking up with you.

You stare at her. “Alone?”

“Mmhmm.”

Your stomach twists. “Wonyoung, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?”

She just hums, leaning more of her weight onto you. Her forehead presses against your shoulder, and you can feel the slight tremble in her body.

You sigh, tightening your grip. “You’re freezing.”

“I was walking.”

“Walking where?”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head back to look at you properly. Her lips part slightly, like she’s about to say something—something serious, something she’s probably been holding in for too long. But then, she hiccups.

You close your eyes, exhaling sharply through your nose. “You’re unbelievable.”

She smiles lazily, like she didn’t just show up at your door dead drunk in the middle of the night after breaking up with you.

"You hung up on me," she murmurs.

You pull back slightly, just enough to see her properly. “Yeah. I did.”

"That was mean," she says, pouting. "I was talking."

"You were drunk."

"Still talking."

You shake your head, adjusting your grip on her. “Come on. You need water. And sleep.”

She hums, letting you guide her inside. “Only if you let me stay.”

You pause.

For a brief second, something in her voice sounds painfully sober.

But then she giggles again, burying her face in your chest, and you decide that you’ll deal with that in the morning.

For now, you just hold her close.

You sigh, pressing your lips into a thin line as you shift your grip on her. She’s barely standing at this point, practically melting into you like she has no bones in her body.

"Alright, come on," you mutter, wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her inside.

She stumbles slightly, her fingers gripping at your shirt as she giggles under her breath. "You smell nice," she mumbles.

You ignore that.

You close the door behind you with your foot, guiding her toward the couch. She flops onto it with zero resistance, her coat slipping off her shoulders. The moment she’s down, she tilts her head back, blinking up at you like she’s expecting something.

She doesn’t hesitate. Stumble inside like she belongs here.

And maybe that’s the problem. She did belong here.

And now? Now you don’t know.

Her eyes lazily drift across the apartment, lingering on the things she still remembers—the half-empty cup of coffee on your desk, the hoodie she used to steal draped over the chair, the faint indent in the couch where she used to curl up next to you.

Then she noticed your desk, the same desk where the fansign ticket sat just days ago. The same one she saw in your hands at the fansign days ago.

"You really came," she murmurs, not looking at you. "I didn’t think you actually would."

You shrug. "Like I said. Would’ve been a waste."

She flinches. Just the tiniest bit. But you catch it.

She exhales slowly, arms wrapping around herself. "It was weird."

"What was?"

"Seeing you there. But not... There, you know?" She fully looks at you now, and there's something raw in her expression. Something you’re not sure you’re ready to face. "You didn’t smile. You didn’t tease me like you usually do. You barely even looked at me."

"What did you expect?" you ask quietly. "You dumped me, Wonyoung. You can’t just expect me to act like nothing happened."

She presses her lips together, fingers gripping the hem of her sleeve. "I know."

You wait. Give her the space to say what she came here to say.

But she doesn’t. Not right away.

She defeatedly sighed, tucking her knees under her chin, looking smaller than she ever has before. She stares at her hands for a long moment before mumbling, "I don’t know why I came here."

You scoff. "Really? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you drunk-called your ex, then showed up at his apartment in the middle of the night without a plan."

She frowns. "I do have a plan."

You raise an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She huffs. "Step one: get inside. Step two..." She falters, looking away. "...I didn’t think that far."

You shake your head. "Unbelievable."

Silence stretches between you, heavy and unspoken.

Then, barely above a whisper, "Do you hate me?"

You freeze.

Your first instinct is to say no. Because of course you don’t hate her. You never could.

But that’s not the right answer, is it?

So instead, you tell the truth.

"I don’t know," you admit. "I want to. But I can't."

She looks up at you then, eyes searching. Hopeful and afraid all at once. "I messed up, didn’t I?"

You let out a hollow laugh. "Yea. Big time."

She swallows. Lowers her gaze again. "I thought breaking up would make things easier. For you…for both of us."

"Did it?"

She shakes her head. "No."

You run a hand through your hair, exhaling. "Then why did you do it?"

"I was scared," she says, and her voice is so small, so unlike the confident idol the world knows, that it almost hurts to hear. "I thought I was being selfish, holding onto you when I barely had time to see you. I thought you deserved more than stolen moments and rushed phone calls."

Your jaw clenches. "You didn’t even ask me what I wanted."

"I know," she whispers. "I thought I was making the right choice."

You sit down across from her, legs spread, elbows on your knees. "And now?"

She meets your gaze, vulnerability laid bare. "Now... I just miss you."

Your heart leaped a mile. This was the Wonyoung you always see. Not the glamorous and model-esque Jang Wonyoung everyone always see on TV. Not the well-spoken and powerful public figure everyone knows. Just…a gentle yet bubbly girl who snuggled up next to you on the couch at the end of the day.

But your brain should tell her to leave. To sleep it off, to sober up and think about this when her mind is clearer.

Then she reaches out—just the slightest, her fingers brushing against yours on the couch. And you don’t pull away.

"You’re drunk," you remind her, though your voice lacks conviction.

She smiles faintly. "Thanks…Mr. Obvious."

Silence. Then, tentatively, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

Another hesitation.

But just like before, you already know your answer.

You sigh. Your hand intertwined with hers.

"Go get a blanket. Wonyo."

She doesn’t move right away. Just watches you, like she’s memorizing you all over again.

Then, with a small, almost relieved nod, she gets up and stumbled into your bedroom as she dragged you along—the same bedroom she used to slip into after long schedules, the same one she used to call hers.

And just like that, the distance you tried so hard to create crumbles.

Again.

#kpop #ive x male reader #ive x reader #ive wonyoung #wonyoung #wonyoung x reader #jang wonyoung #ive wonyoung x reader #ive fluff #ive angst #izone #izone wonyoung #izone x reader

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goldfades · 3 days ago

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never felt so alone───paige bueckers

free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 6.7k

⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | requested by @wanderlusturous -> Paige x reader too 🤍 like maybe some teammate fics | i hope you enjoy, babe!

⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | angst to fluff, ACL injury stuff, paige being a cutie patootie, not sure if theres anything else but it has a happy ending!

The first time you let yourself cry about it—really cry, not just a few silent tears swallowed in the dark—you were alone in the training room, knee wrapped in ice, watching your team warm up on the screen mounted in the corner. The sound was off, but you didn’t need it. You could hear it anyway. The sneaker squeaks, the ball hitting the floor, the echoes of laughter and easy, thoughtless movement. It was the sound of a world that had moved on without you.

And you hated that it hurt this much.

It had been almost a year. A year since your body betrayed you in front of thousands. Since your whole life had changed in a single wrong step, your knee buckling beneath you in a way it was never supposed to. A year since you lay on the court, gripping your leg with hands that shook, blinking up at the overhead lights while everything around you blurred into background noise. A year since you had to sit in that tiny, sterile room with a doctor who didn’t bother to soften the news: ACL tear. Surgery. Recovery. Long, slow, brutal.

And just like that, everything you had been working toward, everything you had been so sure was yours—the draft, the number one pick, the future you had mapped out for yourself since you first picked up a ball—was gone.

You tried to be okay about it. You told everyone you were okay about it.

But you weren’t.

Because now, every time you walked into that gym, it wasn’t the same. You weren’t the same. You felt it in the way people looked at you, in the way their eyes darted to your knee before meeting your face. In the way their encouragement sounded more like pity, their reassurances empty, weightless.

“You’ll be back,” they’d say, and maybe they believed it. Maybe they didn’t. It didn’t matter. Because you knew the truth. You weren’t the same player. You weren’t the same person.

And you had never felt more alone.

But if there was anyone who understood, it was Paige.

She never said much about it, but she didn’t have to. She had been through it too. She knew what it was like to go from untouchable to sidelined, to watch the game you loved move forward without you, to wonder if you’d ever be the same again.

And lately, she was the only person you could stand to be around.

You had been staring at your phone for so long that the screen dimmed, and for a moment, you just let it. You let the notification blur into the background, just another soft glow in the otherwise empty space of your mind. But the words were already burned into your vision. You could still see them, could still hear them.

ESPN: The new projected #1 pick in the 2025 WNBA Draft has been updated.

You hadn’t even opened the article. You didn’t need to. The bets had been completely off for you for a while now. They had kept your name there at first, had held onto you like a favorite whose odds just kept slipping, but eventually, reality set in. You were old news now. Another cautionary tale. A talent with a question mark hanging over her head.

And now, someone else was in your place.

You stared at the screen, willing yourself to feel something other than this heavy, creeping numbness. You should be angry. Should be heartbroken. Should be something.

But you just felt… gone. Like the piece of you that used to care had been hollowed out somewhere along the way.

A year ago, you had been untouchable. A sure thing. The future. The kind of player people built franchises around. And now? Now, there was a chance there was no draft for you at all.

Because the truth was, you weren’t healing fast enough. You had tried. God, you had tried. You had pushed your body past the point of exhaustion, past the pain, past the doubt. You had done every stretch, every exercise, followed every rehab plan like it was a religion. But the clock was still ticking. And if you didn’t get back soon, if you didn’t prove that you were still the player they had once fought over, then what?

Then no one would draft you.

Then it would all be over before it even began.

Your fingers tightened around your phone, stomach twisting into knots, the weight of it pressing against your chest, against your throat, until you felt like you might choke on it.

And then, suddenly, it was gone.

You blinked, hands grasping at empty air as Paige plucked the phone from your grip, her movements casual but firm, like she had seen this moment coming before you even did.

She didn’t say anything at first. Just held your phone in one hand, looking down at you with those sharp, knowing eyes, the ones that had always seen through you too easily.

“It’s nothing,” you muttered, shifting on the bench, trying to sound bored, like your world hadn’t just cracked open a little more. Like you weren’t barely holding it together.

Paige didn’t buy it. Of course she didn’t.

She turned your phone over in her palm, thoughtful, before slipping it into the pocket of her hoodie. “You don’t need to look at that.”

The damage was already done.

Your chest still felt tight, your stomach still sick, your mind still racing down the same dark paths it had been on since the moment you read that notification. Paige could take your phone away, but she couldn’t erase the words from your head, couldn’t make you unsee them, couldn’t stop the way your pulse was pounding in your ears, reminding you over and over of what you had lost.

Paige must have seen something shift in your face because she exhaled, long and slow, before sitting down beside you.

“You’re still in this,” she said after a moment, her voice quieter now, edged with something softer.

You laughed, but it didn’t sound like you. “Am I?”

She didn’t answer right away, just studied you like she was trying to figure out how far gone you really were, how much of you was still left.

And for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure of the answer.

The locker room was dead silent. Everyone could feel the tension thick in the air, suffocating, pressing against their chests. No one wanted to look at you. No one wanted to be caught in the crossfire.

You sat there, jaw clenched so tight it ached, hands curled into fists on your knees, staring at the floor like if you looked anywhere else, the whole thing would snap you in half.

"You think this is easy for me?" Geno’s voice cut through the silence, sharp, impatient. "You think I enjoy calling you out like this? I don’t. But this attitude you’ve had? It’s not helping you. It’s not helping the team."

You felt your throat tighten, but you swallowed it down. You always swallowed it down.

Geno sighed, dragging a hand over his face before leveling you with that look, the one you’d seen him give so many players before. The one that usually meant tough love, a push in the right direction. The one that used to light a fire in you.

"You know what I’ve told you before," he continued, voice calmer now but still firm. "Half the battle is in the mentality. You can sit here and feel sorry for yourself, or you can prove to everyone that you’re still the player they think you are. It’s your choice."

That was it.

That was the moment you broke.

The moment you couldn’t keep it all bottled up anymore.

Because it wasn’t just about your mentality. It wasn’t just about your attitude. It was about how everything had been taken from you in one second, how you had clawed your way through recovery, how you had done everything right and it still wasn’t enough. It was about the way people talked about you now, like you were a what-could-have-been instead of a what-still-could-be. It was about the fact that you didn’t even know who you were anymore without basketball, and no one seemed to understand that.

Your voice shook when you spoke, but the words spilled out anyway, raw and desperate and unfiltered.

"Do you think I don’t know that? Do you think I don’t replay that moment every single night, over and over again in my head, trying to figure out how I got here?" You laughed, but it wasn’t funny. It was bitter, broken. "Do you think I don’t want to be out there? That I don’t want to be the player I was?"

Your eyes were burning now, but you refused to let the tears fall here. Not in front of him. Not in front of them.

"I’ve done everything I was supposed to do," you whispered, voice hoarse, barely holding it together. "And it’s still not enough."

No one said anything.

Not Geno. Not the team.

No one.

So you left.

You grabbed your stuff, shoved past the stunned silence, and walked out before anyone could stop you.

Paige was the only one who followed.

She didn’t call your name. Didn’t try to talk to you. Didn’t try to tell you it was okay, because she knew it wasn’t.

She caught up to you outside the gym, her footsteps quiet but steady, and the moment you turned to look at her, everything you had been holding in—the anger, the grief, the exhaustion—crashed into you all at once.

And without a single word, Paige wrapped her arms around you.

She hugged you tight, like she was holding you together, like she could feel the way you were unraveling, thread by thread. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry. Really cry. Not just a few tears wiped away before anyone could see, but the kind of tears that shook your whole body, that made it hard to breathe, that carried everything you had been too afraid to say.

Paige didn’t let go.

Not when your shoulders trembled. Not when you gripped the back of her hoodie like a lifeline. Not when your sobs turned into ragged, uneven breaths.

And that night, she didn’t leave your side.

She didn’t say much. She didn’t need to.

She just stayed, close enough that you could hear her breathing, close enough that, for the first time in a long time, you didn’t feel completely alone.

Paige had always seen you as untouchable. As unstoppable.

Seeing you like this? Broken, vulnerable, hurting in a way that even she couldn’t fix?

That broke her, too.

You had always been the one. The kind of player people whispered about before you even stepped onto the court. The kind of talent that didn’t just demand attention but held it, bent the game around you like gravity. Paige had seen it from the first time she played with you, the way you moved, the way you thought the game three steps ahead of everyone else. You were special. And everybody knew it.

That was why, when it happened, it felt like the world had cracked open.

She remembered it too clearly. The sharp sound of your body hitting the floor, the way you clutched your knee, the way your face twisted in pain. She had never seen you like that before. Never seen you down and not bounce right back up.

At first, she thought—hoped—it was just something minor. A bad landing. A scare. You’d get up, you’d shake it off, and everything would go back to normal.

But you didn’t get up.

And when they helped you off the court, when she saw the way you wouldn’t even try to put weight on it, her stomach dropped.

Because she knew.

She knew before the MRI, before the press release, before the hushed conversations about recovery timelines and worst-case scenarios. She knew the second she saw your face.

And that night, when she found you sitting in the locker room long after everyone else had left, staring down at your knee like it wasn’t even yours anymore, she realized something else.

You weren’t just scared of being hurt. You were scared of what came next.

Paige understood that fear. She had lived it. She knew what it was like to sit on the sidelines and feel like the game was leaving you behind, like the thing that made you you was slipping further and further out of reach. She knew how isolating it was, how no amount of support or encouragement could touch the parts of you that ached the most.

But this was you. And in her mind, you had never been touchable, had never been stoppable. The idea of you being anything less than that—it wasn’t something she could wrap her head around.

So she had told herself, You’ll come back. You have to come back.

But months passed, and she watched the way you changed. The way your fire dimmed. The way you started retreating into yourself, isolating, pulling away from the team, from her.

The way your name slowly started disappearing from draft talks.

The way you looked at yourself like you weren’t sure you belonged here anymore.

And now, sitting beside you, holding you as you finally let yourself fall apart, she felt helpless.

Because this wasn’t a game she could win for you.

She could fight for you on the court. She could hit big shots, make big plays, try to keep the team moving forward. But she couldn’t fix this. She couldn’t make your knee heal faster. She couldn’t take away the doubt, the fear, the loss of everything you thought was certain.

She hated that.

She hated that all she could do was hold you, that all she could offer was her presence, her warmth, the steady rhythm of her breathing against yours.

But if this was all she could do, she would do it.

Because you weren’t alone.

And as long as she was here, as long as she had anything to give, she would make sure you never felt like you were.

It started with an alarm.

A shrill, relentless alarm at 5:30 AM. The kind that made you want to throw your phone across the room.

At first, you thought you had set it by accident. But then you heard the knocking.

No. Not knocking. Pounding.

You groaned, pulling your blanket over your head, willing whoever it was to just disappear.

No such luck.

"Get up," Paige’s voice rang through the door, clear, firm, unmovable.

You shut your eyes tighter. "Go away."

The door opened.

You peeked out from under the blanket just in time to see Paige standing in your doorway, arms crossed, dressed in workout gear like she had been up for hours.

You glared. "Do you not believe in knocking?"

"I knocked," she said, unimpressed. "Then you ignored me. Now get up."

You scoffed, rolling onto your side. "Not happening."

You should have known she wouldn’t just accept that.

Paige walked over, grabbed the edge of your blanket, and ripped it off you in one swift motion. Cold air hit your skin, and you practically yelped, curling into yourself.

"Jesus, Bueckers—"

"You can cuss me out later," she said. "Right now, we’re going to the gym."

You stared at her like she had lost her mind. "Paige, it’s five in the morning."

"Yeah, and you’ve got work to do," she shot back, unfazed. "Season starts in a few months. You wanna be ready or not?"

You hesitated.

Of course you wanted to be ready. Of course you wanted to get back to where you were before, to prove that you weren’t just some washed-up has-been before you even got the chance to be a someone.

But that want—that need—was buried under months of frustration, self-doubt, exhaustion. You had pushed yourself so hard for so long, and it still felt like you were running in place.

And now, here she was, asking you to choose again.

Paige must have seen the hesitation in your face, because her expression softened. She sat down on the edge of your bed, nudging your knee lightly.

"I know you’re tired," she said, quieter now, more serious. "I know this hasn’t been fair. But you’re too good to let this stop you. You know that."

You swallowed, looking away.

She sighed, leaning forward, elbows resting on her knees. "You’re not doing this alone," she continued. "I’m gonna be here every step of the way. If you have to push yourself, then I’ll push you. If you fall, I’ll catch you. But I’m not letting you give up on this. I won’t."

Something in your chest tightened.

Because she meant it. You could hear it in her voice, in the unwavering steadiness of it.

Paige had always believed in you. Even when you stopped believing in yourself.

And maybe—just maybe—that was enough to get you out of bed.

You exhaled through your nose, rubbing a hand down your face before finally, finally sitting up.

"Fine," you muttered. "But if I pass out halfway through, it’s on you."

Paige grinned, already victorious. "You’ll live."

And with that, she tossed you your sneakers, stood up, and waited—because she already knew you were going to follow.

The next couple of months were hell.

But not the kind of hell you had been drowning in for the past year. Not the slow-burning, isolating, empty kind of hell where every day bled into the next, where the weight of your own expectations crushed you before you even got out of bed.

No, this was different.

This was the kind of hell that left your muscles aching in the best way, your lungs burning as you pushed through another sprint, your hands gripping your knees as you bent over, gasping for breath, feeling alive again. The kind of hell that reminded you why you had ever loved this game in the first place.

And it was all because of Paige.

She didn’t go easy on you. If anything, she was worse than the trainers. She forced you out of bed before sunrise, dragged you through drills that made you want to collapse, and refused to let you quit.

"You’re too slow," she’d say, breathless, as you tried to keep up with her full-speed cuts. "Use your damn left hand," she’d scold when your layup was just a little too stiff. "Again." That was her favorite. No matter how many times you told her you were done, she’d look at you with that infuriating smirk and make you do it again.

And somehow… somehow, you needed it.

For the first time in forever, you felt like a player again. Like you were clawing your way back to the person you used to be. And with every day that passed, with every extra rep, every bead of sweat rolling down your spine, every time you beat Paige in a shooting drill and got to see the way she rolled her eyes, shoving your shoulder with a muttered, "Whatever, lucky shot,"—you started to believe, just a little, that maybe you still had a chance.

It was exhausting. It was painful. It was the hardest thing you had ever done.

And you had never felt more alive.

But then there was the other problem.

Because somewhere along the way, between the early morning workouts and the late-night film sessions, between the inside jokes and the way she always, always knew exactly what to say to get you out of your own head—something shifted.

You caught yourself watching her too long. Not just as a player, not just as the Paige Bueckers that the world knew. But as her. As the person who had seen you at your absolute lowest and refused to let you stay there.

As the person who had held you when you broke. Who had stayed up with you on the nights where the doubt crept in too deep, the one who knew, before you even said a word, exactly what you needed.

And it scared you.

Because Paige Bueckers wasn’t just some random person. She was your teammate. Your best friend. The person who had dedicated months of her life to making sure you didn’t give up on yourself.

And you couldn’t risk losing that.

So you ignored it. You ignored the way your heart picked up when she brushed against you. The way her hand lingered on your back whenever she guided you off the court. The way she looked at you sometimes, like she was trying to figure something out.

You ignored everything.

Because preseason was coming. And you weren’t where you needed to be yet.

You had made progress—real progress. You were moving better, sharper, stronger than you had in months. But you weren’t there yet. Not fully healed. Not fully you.

But baby steps, right?

You weren’t giving up. Not anymore. And maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as alone as you thought you were.

The gym was nearly empty when Paige found you.

Late night, lights dimmed, the faint echo of bouncing balls from the other side of the facility. You had just finished your last set of shooting drills, your knee wrapped tight, sweat dripping down your back, exhaustion clinging to your limbs. It was another long day of almost being back, almost being who you were before.

But almost wasn’t good enough. Not yet.

You heard the door open but didn’t look up. You knew who it was. Paige had a presence, an energy that filled the space before she even said anything.

"You really gotta stop sneaking in extra workouts," she called, footsteps slow as she crossed the court. "What if I tell Geno? He’ll make you sit out of practice for real this time."

You rolled your eyes, bending down to grab your water bottle. "You won’t tell Geno, because that would make you a snitch."

She scoffed. "I think it makes me a responsible teammate."

"You dragged me out of bed at five in the morning for conditioning all summer, but now you wanna be responsible?" You shot her a look. "Little hypocritical, don’t you think?"

Paige grinned, coming to a stop a few feet from you, spinning a ball lazily in her hands. "That’s different."

"How?"

"Because I was supervising. You out here by yourself?" She made a tsk sound, shaking her head dramatically. "Reckless. Careless. Dangerous, even."

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. "Whatever."

Paige took a step closer, that knowing look in her eyes. "You know you don’t have to do this alone, right?"

Your grip tightened around your water bottle. It wasn’t the first time she had said something like that. And every time, it hit the same.

"I know," you muttered.

She studied you for a second, then nodded, spinning the ball again before flipping it toward you. You caught it out of reflex.

"One-on-one," she said casually, stretching her arms overhead. "First to five."

You narrowed your eyes. "You just had practice."

"So?" She smirked. "I still won’t go easy on you."

That shouldn’t have made your stomach flip, but it did.

You licked your lips, tossing the ball between your hands. "I won’t go easy on you, Bueckers."

Her smirk deepened. "Good."

And just like that, the banter faded into the familiar rhythm of competition—the kind where words weren’t needed, where the only thing that mattered was movement, instincts, the game itself.

But even as you tried to focus, as you tried to lock in, you couldn’t ignore the way Paige’s eyes lingered a little too long. The way her hands brushed against your waist when she reached for a steal. The way she grinned every time you scored, even though she hated losing.

The way the tension between you two had started feeling different.

And you weren’t sure what scared you more—losing the game, or what would happen if you stopped ignoring it.

The sun was starting to set as you and Paige walked back from physical therapy, the sky streaked with warm oranges and purples, the air crisp against your skin. Your knee was sore, but in the way it always was after PT—stiff, a little swollen, but manageable. You were used to it by now. What you weren’t used to was the fact that you didn’t hate these sessions anymore.

Not since Paige started showing up.

At first, you thought she was just being nice—checking in on you, keeping you accountable, making sure you weren’t wallowing in self-pity (even though you totally had been). But then, she started coming every time. She sat in the waiting room during your sessions, tapping her foot impatiently like she was the one getting worked on. She cracked dumb jokes when you winced through exercises, flipped through old magazines and read the worst horoscopes out loud just to make you laugh.

She was like your own personal emotional support dog. If emotional support dogs talked a lot.

And the thing was? She made you feel less bad about all of it.

The injury, the rehab, the endless cycle of progress and setbacks. It didn’t feel so heavy when she was there.

Now, as you walked side by side, your duffel slung over one shoulder, Paige stuffed her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie, gaze flicking toward you before settling on the sidewalk.

"You know, I’ve been here before," she said after a beat, her voice quieter than usual.

You frowned. "What do you mean?"

"This place," she nodded back toward the therapy clinic, her expression unreadable. "I came here after I tore my ACL. Same time, same days. Same routine."

You blinked. You knew about her injury, obviously—everyone did. But she had never really talked about it. Not like this.

"That was before I got here," she continued, exhaling, her breath visible in the cool evening air. "Before I really got back. And it sucked. So bad." She huffed a laugh, but it wasn’t really funny. "I don’t think people get how… alone it makes you feel. Everyone’s moving forward, the season keeps going, and you’re just stuck in the same place. Trying to convince yourself you’re still the player you were before."

Your stomach twisted at how familiar that sounded.

Paige kicked a loose pebble down the sidewalk. "I didn’t really have anyone who—like, I mean, I had people who cared, but no one who really got it. Not like this. I wanted someone to be there for me the way I’ve been here for you."

You stopped walking. Paige took a few more steps before realizing and turned to face you, her brows furrowing slightly.

"You never told me that," you said, voice softer than you meant it to be.

She shrugged, a little sheepish. "It wasn’t something I talked about much. Didn’t think it mattered."

"It does matter," you insisted.

Paige held your gaze for a second, something flickering behind her eyes. Then, she took a step closer.

"You know what else matters?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "The fact that you were the only person who actually pushed me to get my ass back on the court."

You blinked. "What?"

She smiled, but it wasn’t teasing. It was real.

"You don’t remember?" She shook her head, laughing to herself. "I do. You were a freshman, and you wouldn’t shut up about how I needed to get back out there. You kept saying I was too good to waste it, that I had to stop feeling sorry for myself. It pissed me off so bad."

Your eyes widened. You… vaguely remembered that. You remembered standing outside the locker room, Paige still moving stiffly, not fully cleared yet, and you had said something—something blunt, something stubborn, something about how she was going to regret it for the rest of her life if she didn’t push through.

"You were annoying as hell," Paige added, smirking. "But you were right. I don’t know if I ever told you that."

You were still trying to wrap your head around it. You had no idea you’d made that much of an impact on her. That you had been the one to push her the way she had been pushing you now.

For a moment, you didn’t know what to say.

Then, finally, you huffed, shaking your head. "So… what you’re saying is, this is revenge?"

Paige snorted. "One hundred percent."

You both laughed, but beneath it, something else settled in your chest. Something warm.

She had been there before. She understood.

And maybe, just maybe, that meant you could come out on the other side of this too.

The doctor barely got the words out before Paige exploded.

"Let’s goooo!" she shouted, jumping up so fast her chair screeched against the floor. She clapped you on the back—hard, like she forgot her own strength—before pulling you into the tightest hug you’d ever been in.

You were still processing it. Cleared. Cleared. After nearly a year of waiting, of doubting, of pushing yourself until you couldn’t breathe, you were finally back.

You let out a breathless laugh, gripping the back of Paige’s hoodie as she squeezed you tighter. "You realize I’m the one who just got cleared, right? Why are you more excited than me?"

Paige pulled back just enough to look at you, eyes bright, that signature smirk tugging at her lips. "Because I knew this would happen," she said like it was obvious. "I told you. You’re too good not to come back. It was only a matter of time."

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling warmer than you should’ve in an air-conditioned office. There was something about the way she was looking at you—like she had been waiting for this moment just as much as you had. Maybe more.

The doctor cleared his throat, clearly trying not to laugh. "Are you two done celebrating in my office, or do I need to step out and give you a minute?"

You and Paige both whipped around like guilty kids, muttering quick apologies, but the grin never left her face.

And it didn’t leave the rest of the day, either.

She refused to let you go home without celebrating. Took you straight to your favorite restaurant, ordered way too much food, and every time you even thought about checking your phone, she smacked your hand away.

"Tonight is not for film. Or texts. Or stressing," she said between bites of fries. "It’s for you. And me. And this delicious meal I just paid for."

"You literally stole my card to pay," you pointed out.

"Yeah, but I swiped it," she said smugly, sipping her drink. "Which means I paid. Which means you should be grateful."

You rolled your eyes, but your stomach flipped, and you weren’t entirely sure it was from the food.

Because here she was again. Paige Bueckers, making you feel like the most important person in the room.

And that feeling hadn’t gone away.

The first practice back, you were expecting a normal warm welcome. Some pats on the back, maybe a few sarcastic finallys thrown your way.

What you were not expecting was to walk into the locker room and see balloons tied to your chair, a giant cake sitting on the bench, and the entire team yelling, "She’s baaaaaaack!" the second you stepped inside.

You stopped in your tracks, wide-eyed. "What the—"

"Surprise!" Paige called, stepping forward with an exaggerated bow. "Courtesy of your personal hype woman."

You looked at her, then at the cake—white frosting, piped-on basketballs, and the words WELCOME BACK, SUPERSTAR in bright blue icing. You could tell she definitely decorated it herself, because one of the basketballs was slightly misshapen, and the lettering was just a little off-center.

Your chest felt tight, but in a good way. A way you didn’t quite know how to explain.

"You did this?" you asked, already knowing the answer.

Paige shrugged, but her grin was unmistakable. "Figured you deserved it."

The warmth in your chest spread.

"Alright, get over here and eat before I do it for you," she added, shoving a plastic fork into your hand.

The rest of the team dove into the cake, laughter filling the room as people threw icing at each other, teasing you about how they were gonna light your ass up in scrimmages.

And through it all, you kept sneaking glances at Paige.

Because this was the part that was messing with your head.

The way she always knew what you needed before you even said it. The way she was so damn proud of you, like this wasn’t just your win, but hers too. The way she looked at you sometimes, like you were the only person in the world that mattered.

And suddenly, you couldn’t keep pretending that your feelings for her were just friendly.

Because they weren’t. Not even close.

The second the buzzer sounded, the roar of the crowd barely had time to register before Paige was on you.

You didn’t even have time to celebrate properly, barely had time to process the fact that you had just played in your first official game back, before she grabbed you—hands firm on your waist, tugging you straight into her.

"You killed it," she practically breathed against your ear, voice thick with something deeper than excitement, something that sent a full-body chill down your spine.

You barely had time to respond before she pulled you closer, her arms locking around your back, holding you like she was afraid to let go. Her heart was pounding against yours, fast and erratic, and you swore she was holding on for longer than a normal post-game hug.

Not that you were complaining.

Your hands hesitated for only a second before finding their way to her back, gripping onto the fabric of her jersey, still warm from the game.

"You act like we just won a championship," you teased, but your voice came out softer than you meant it to.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips. "We won your first game back," she corrected, like that was the real victory.

And the way she was looking at you—the way her eyes were scanning your face like she wanted to memorize it, the way her fingers were still gripping onto you like she wasn’t ready to let go—made your stomach flip so hard you almost felt dizzy.

It was so obvious.

So obvious in the way she refused to move more than a step away from you during the entire post-game celebration, always lingering close, her hand brushing against yours, her shoulder bumping into you.

So obvious in the way she reached for you again when the cameras swarmed, her arm slung around your shoulders like it belonged there.

So obvious in the way she beamed every time she looked at you, like she was the proudest person in the damn world.

And it should have been overwhelming, should have felt like too much.

But it didn’t.

Because if you were being honest, you didn’t want her to let go either.

The ice cream shop was packed, buzzing with late-night energy—fans still wearing jerseys, kids on sugar highs, groups of students laughing loudly in the corner. The air smelled like waffle cones and melted chocolate, and the whole team was crammed into two booths, talking over each other, hyped from the win.

And through all of it, Paige wouldn’t leave your side.

She had slid into the seat next to you the second you got there, pressing close enough that her knee knocked against yours under the table. And she stayed there, so damn close, even when there was plenty of room to move.

Not that you minded.

She was warm, practically radiating heat against your side. Every time she laughed—really laughed, head tilting back just slightly—her shoulder bumped into yours. Every time she reached for her cup, her fingers brushed against your arm like she forgot how much space she was taking up.

Or maybe she just didn’t care.

"Alright, we’re making a bathroom run," one of your teammates announced, and the rest of them quickly followed, leaving you and Paige alone at the table.

The shop was still loud around you, but suddenly, everything between you two felt quiet.

You tapped your spoon absently against your cup, not looking at her. "You planning on sticking to me like glue all night?"

Paige scoffed, leaning back like she was just now realizing how close she was. But she didn’t move. "Psh. Please. If anything, you’ve been following me."

You raised a brow, finally meeting her gaze. "Oh yeah? That what you’re telling yourself?"

She smirked, like she had been waiting for this exact opening. "Well, you do like me, so."

Your spoon paused midair.

Your brain short-circuited.

She had said it so casually, like it wasn’t the biggest bomb she could have possibly dropped. Like it wasn’t the exact thing you had been trying not to admit to yourself for months.

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Blinked. "I—what?"

Paige just grinned, stirring her ice cream like she didn’t just say that. "Relax, it’s not that deep," she teased, but there was something lighter in her voice, something testing.

You swallowed. "So you’re just out here saying stuff?"

She shrugged, still grinning, but you could see the shift—the way she kept glancing at you, like she was trying to gauge your reaction. Like she was actually nervous.

You inhaled slowly. "Paige."

She finally stopped stirring her ice cream, finally let the teasing drop just a little.

"Okay," she said, quieter now, tapping her spoon against her cup. "Maybe it is a little deep."

The air between you shifted.

You could still hear the noise of the shop, the hum of conversations, the occasional burst of laughter from across the room. But none of it mattered. Not when Paige was sitting this close, looking at you like that.

Like she had been waiting.

Like she wasn’t scared of saying it anymore.

Your chest felt tight. "Oh."

Paige let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. "Oh? That’s all you got?"

You swallowed again, your heart beating way too fast. "I mean—what do you want me to say?"

"I don’t know," she murmured, voice almost playful but not quite. "Maybe that you like me too?"

Your mouth felt dry.

Because you did.

Of course you did.

It had been obvious for so long, in the way your heart jumped every time she touched you, in the way you gravitated toward her like it was second nature. In the way she made the worst year of your life bearable just by being there.

So, really, what was stopping you?

You let out a breath, then shook your head, smirking just slightly. "You are so full of yourself."

Paige rolled her eyes but leaned in just a little closer. "Am I wrong, though?"

You huffed, pressing your lips together—trying to hold onto the last shred of self-control you had, but it was so hard when she was right there, when she was looking at you like she already knew she was right.

And then—

She reached out, fingers curling around your wrist, lightly, like she was giving you an out.

She didn’t need to.

You didn’t think. You just moved.

And before you could second-guess it, before you could talk yourself out of it—

You kissed her.

It was soft at first, tentative, like neither of you could believe it was actually happening. Like months of unspoken tension had suddenly snapped all at once.

But then Paige exhaled against your lips, like she had been holding it in for so long, and you felt her smile into the kiss before she kissed you again, deeper this time, her fingers tightening around your wrist, pulling you in.

You felt weightless.

Like everything—the injury, the doubt, the fear—had led to this.

And, for the first time in forever, you weren’t thinking about the past.

You weren’t thinking about the future.

You were just here, with Paige, and nothing had ever felt more right.

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carnalcrows · 19 hours ago

Text

LOST AND FOUND - THE SALESMAN

pairing: the salesman x top male reader

synopsis: A man starts noticing his belongings disappearing after every visit to his best friend’s house—until he stumbles upon the unsettling truth.

content warnings: 18+, bottom salesman, reader is fucking salesman's son, dubcon, blackmail, cheating, fingering, anal sex, implied stalking, dead dove do not eat.

word count: 1.6k

Dinner at your best friend’s house is always an experience.

Not because of the food—his dad’s a damn good cook, actually—but because of the company.

“Hyung, I’m telling you, this lady at work keeps calling me ‘oppa,’ and I don’t know how to tell her I hate it,” Jiho complains, waving his chopsticks for emphasis. “Like, I get it, I’m devastatingly handsome, but can we have boundaries?”

You snort, reaching for more rice. “You could just tell her to stop.”

“I did! And you know what she said? She said I ‘look like the type to enjoy it.’” Jiho groans, collapsing dramatically against the back of his chair. “I feel violated.”

Across the table, Jiho’s father hums, slow and thoughtful. “Perhaps you give off the impression of someone who enjoys attention,” he muses, sipping his soup.

Jiho gapes at him, offended. “You’re supposed to be on my side!”

You chuckle, glancing at Jiho’s father. He hasn’t said much tonight, but that’s not unusual. The man is a quiet observer, the kind of person who listens more than he speaks. You’ve had dinner here plenty of times before, and the pattern is always the same—Jiho chatting away, you chiming in, and his father interjecting with the occasional dry remark.

But tonight… feels different.

Jiho’s father has been watching you. Not obviously—just little glances, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than usual. His face remains unreadable, but there’s something sharp in his eyes, something calculating.

It’s not unfriendly, exactly. Just… unsettling.

“Hyung?” Jiho nudges your arm. “You good?”

You blink, shaking off the feeling. “Yeah. Just thinking about how you probably deserve that treatment.”

Jiho makes a wounded noise. “Et tu, Brute?”

Across the table, his father chuckles. A deep, quiet sound. When you glance at him, he’s already looking away, refilling his tea like he wasn’t just assessing you like a goddamn science project.

Yeah. Something’s up with him tonight.

You just don’t know what.

And that? That should’ve been your first warning.

You should’ve gone home.

Jiho had texted that he’d be late—something about running an errand for work—but you figured it was no big deal. You’d been to his house a thousand times before, and waiting around wasn’t exactly a hardship.

But the house was too quiet without him.

It’s why you found yourself wandering, aimlessly at first, then with purpose when you noticed something odd.

A door. Slightly ajar.

You didn’t remember Jiho ever mentioning this room before. Curiosity got the better of you, and you nudged the door open fully—only to freeze in place.

Inside, the walls were lined with shelves. Not with books or storage boxes, but with you.

Your bracelets. Your books. Your toothbrush.

And—most horrifyingly—your underwear.

Stacks of them, folded neatly. Some draped over surfaces, others tucked away like a grotesque collection. And at the very center, in a glass display case like some kind of prized possession, was a used condom—your used condom.

A sickening chill crawled up your spine.

What the fuck was this?

A shadow moved behind you. Before you could react, a deep voice spoke, low and amused.

“Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to snoop?”

You turned sharply. Jiho’s father stood in the doorway, watching you with a smirk that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You opened your mouth—whether to demand an explanation or to throw up, you weren’t sure—but he stepped forward, closing the door behind him with a click.

Trapping you inside.

“You’ve been quite careless,” he murmured, trailing a finger along one of the shelves. “Leaving so many things behind. Did you ever wonder where they went?”

Your pulse thundered in your ears. “What the fuck is this?”

Jiho’s father merely chuckled. “Just a collection. I like to keep things that interest me.”

Your stomach churned. This wasn’t just interest—this was obsession.

You tried to move past him, but he stepped in your way, his smirk widening. “Ah, ah. I wouldn’t be so hasty.”

You clenched your jaw. “Move.”

“And if I don’t?” His voice was light, conversational, but there was a razor-sharp edge beneath it. “You could run to Jiho. Tell him. But then I’d have to tell everyone something too, wouldn’t I?”

Your breath caught.

“I wonder,” he mused, tilting his head. “How would your workplace react? Your friends? Your family?”

Your hands curled into fists. You knew what he was implying. Being outed in this country—where tradition and reputation mattered—was a death sentence for your social life, your career, everything.

He leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. “So, what will it be?”

Oh.

Oh hell no.

You let out a short, incredulous laugh, because there is no way this is happening. “Dude,” you blurt. “You do realize your son and I have been—”

“I’m very aware,” he interrupts smoothly, his gaze flickering down your form. “And I must say… I can see why he’s so taken with you.”

You should leave. You should run. But your legs don’t move. Because the way he’s looking at you—intense, predatory, like he’s testing something—sends a very different kind of shiver down your spine.

The air between you shifts.

He’s close now. Too close.

“You’re an interesting one,” he murmurs, reaching out—not grabbing, just hovering, his fingers barely ghosting over your arm. “Most people would be terrified right now.”

“Oh, I am,” you say, flashing a weak grin. “But I also have really bad coping mechanisms.”

His lips quirk up. “Is that so?”

Then, before you can think better of it—before you can stop yourself—you grab him by the tie and pull him in.

His smirk barely has time to widen before your lips crash together.

The kiss is messy. Heated. Too much, too fast, but neither of you seem to care. His hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him, while yours tangle in the expensive fabric of his suit. He tastes like something rich and intoxicating, and damn it, you hate how much you like it.

Your hands move to his waist as his move up to your shoulders, slightly changing the dynamics of the situation. He groans against your mouth at the friction against his crotch, making you hard.

This is wrong, so wrong, but there doesn’t really seem to be another way out.

You tug at his work pants, bringing them down with a firm grasp while pushing him onto the bed in the corner of the room– more like a shrine.

His cock emerges, hard and leaking. Your thumbs trails at the head-- picking up the precum that builds up at the slit. He shudders; he hasn’t touched himself like this in so long.

Wanting to finish what he wants as soon as possible, you shimmy down your own pants, revealing your own erection. You find yourself feeling ashamed at the fact that your grew hard from kissing your fuck buddy best friend’s father.

Searching through his coat pocket, the older man finds a small packet of lube and tosses it at you. You catch it before it flies past you– glaring at him.

“You're no fun,” he grins, as you rip the packet with your teeth and pour the cool liquid onto your fingers.

You take your lubed digits to his awaiting hole and press them at his entrance, before pushing in. You weren’t going to give this man the mercy of your patience.

His back arched as he let out a loud moan. If your fingers felt this good, how would your cock feel in him?

His thoughts were interrupted by you moving your fingers in and out of him sloppily, not caring if the sudden intrusion hurt (he was a masochist, so you supposed it didn’t matter anyway).

Feeling that he had been prepped enough, you slid your digits out of his hole, and replaced the emptiness with your cock.

The head caught on to the slick of the lube, pushing in slightly– before you slid all the way in. You groaned at how tight he was– even tighter than Jiho if that were possible. You chided yourself for thinking like that before you pulled out almost all the way before slamming back in.

The man’s eyes rolled to the back of his head– your cock hitting the right spot with every thrust. You felt so, so good inside him, and his hole involuntarily clenched around you at the thought.

You held tightly onto his waist as you practically abused his hole, profanities leaving your mouth every now and then.

“Hah– never thought you would get of to being fucked by your son’s best friend, hm?” He could only mumble incoherently at the jab, his brain just too full with being fucked dumb.

He had been waiting so long for this to finally happen, for you to take him like this. He was aware of the relationship between you and his son, and he chose to exploit it instead of doing what a normal dad should do.

But it wasn’t like he was a normal person anyway.

At that thought, he felt himself clench around you more, fucking psychopath. You groaned, feeling his warmth, thrusting into him even further as though you were an animal in heat.

Soon, you felt yourself close to a climax, so you pressed your cock into him all the way, letting yourself come undone– painting his insides a pearly white, before whispering in his ear.

“You can throw away that condom now– you have the real thing in you anyway”, he came, almost violently, when he heard you say that– his semen staining his pristine suit.

You were going to pull out of him, when a sharp knock suddenly echoed through the house.

“Dad?”

You both freeze.

Oh. Oh, hell.

The door creaks open, and there stands Jiho —his son—staring at the two of you like he’s just walked into the world’s worst nightmare.

Silence.

More silence.

Then—

“What. The. Fuck.”

You sigh, forehead dropping against the older man’s shoulder. “Welp,” you mutter. “Guess I am gonna start screaming now.”

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un-death-ful · 23 hours ago

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I sighed and assumed a mortal form. I'd went through hell to make room in my schedule between my most loyal follower and a follower of my least favorite other god. Normally I'd pretend I was busy to avoid it, but I was requested to bless the union alongside said other god.

I made a quick check in the mirror, grooming this body's long blonde hair, and put on lipstick. After a double take in the mirror, I confirmed I was ready to depart. I exited the temple I inhabited, and mounted a horse tied up near the entrance. The silky grey steed, Biscuit, as she was called, had a fast pace that sent a tingle of enjoyment down my body. I much preffered horses over cars, as nature was more predictable than machine.

I pulled to a stop outside of the temple the wedding was held in. As I walked up the steps, I saw my rival peeeing down at me.

"Enjoy the ride, darling?" he asked, a tone of superiority in his voice.

I sighed. I keep forgetting how annoying his smugness is. "Not when I knew you'd be here, darling," I spat back out at him, noting his smirk twisted into a frown. He walked away as the bride came to greet me.

"It's an honour to have you attend my wedding," she bowed. There was a reason I liked her the most. Her attitude was always modest and kind.

"My pleasure, Alicia," I say, keeping my voice professional. As the goddess of lust, professionality isn't my specialty. "Where's the groom?" I ask.

"Preparing. He gets nervous when he looks even the least bit flawed," she chuckled. I find myself pleasuring her soft laugh. A relationship with a follower isn't acceptable, I tell myself. Yet I feel so much longing for her.

I sit on a chair and indulge in the treats. Sushi and bread rolls are overabundant here, so savoury it's hard to say no to a bite. By the time I finish the food, I realize the wedding is almost over.

Alicia stands by her almost-husband, preparing for their first kiss. Screw blessing this wedding. It's unholy, and I can sense his lewd thoughts from a mile away. He doesn't care about her as a person, he just wants to use her for pleasure and free labour. This enrages me. I may be the goddess of lust, but that doesn't stop me from hating abusive assholes like him.

"I object!" I shout. "This wedding is a perversion of what a true wedding is. The groom cares not about his wife, only of her physical body!" As I speak, swans dive in and attack him. The wonderful thing about being associated with birds is that they look cute, but are deadly. I have an army of ferocious avians pecking at the worst man I've met, and I haven't even met him yet.

By the time the swans flock away, a cleanly-picked skeleton falls to the ground in a pile of dust. A fitting end for an atrocious being. But Alicia and my rival seem so shaken by the events of the day, they only look at me in disgust.

"Was what you said true?" Alicia barely spat her words out. "All of it?"

"Sadly, yes." I admit. "I could have just sent him away, but the truth is, I have feelings for you," I mumble.

In the end, I granted her immortality, and we lived together happily.

(So sorry for the long story, I'm hella bored rn)

You are a god whose most devout follower is marrying your rival God’s follower. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem except you both are asked to bless the union, and for that both of you must attend.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #writers #writing inspiration #writing prompts

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sapphicmsmarvel · 2 days ago

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Azriel: Valentines Day

Notes: this aint edited, i wrote this so quickly because i got the idea randomly. Once again, sorry if this sucks 🫶🏻

Also happy valentines loves! A special dedication to @thelov3lybookworm for being a good friend to me 💜

Azriel shows his wife how good their first valentine's day can be.

You always loved the aesthetic that came with Valentine's day. The pink, the red, the pastels, you loved the idea of love.

It’s not that you didn’t like Valentine's day itself and it’s message.

You never had that growing up. You didn’t have fun little flings and nervous kisses while playing spin the bottle. Never got nervous butterflies approaching your crush, you didn’t have anybody ever confess they liked you. Even in your schoolyard days. Feyre and you would always celebrate galentines, even sharing a kiss because you didn’t want your first kiss to go to some random guy.

But, you wanted, you yearned, for someone to love you. To get those butterflies with you.

And then you met Azriel.

Sweet, adorable, Azriel.

Adorable has never been used to describe Az, but he is with you. He’s not rude to others by any means of course but…his ‘bro’ friends don’t see him mushy and yearning for your touch.

Azriel had no idea Valentine's day was coming up, he didn’t know what it was. Until Rhys asked him what he’d gotten you for a gift.

“What?”

“Valentines?”

“What’s Valentines?”

“Valentines day.” Rhys answered, as if that was an answer at all.

“That's still not clearing anything up Rhys.”

“It’s some mortal holiday that Feyre loves, she wanted to do it.” He waved his hand.

Azriel made a ‘makes sense’ face. All of them did whatever their spouses wanted them to do.

But then that led him to ask more questions to Feyre herself. He wondered why you had never mentioned it. He knew about your favorite winter holiday, halloween, easter even. But not this.

Later that night, as you two were pulling back the sheets of your bed, he asked. “Love?” “Yeah?” You smiled brightly, his chest swooped and fluttered just by the view. The only view he’d ever need for the rest of his life.

Until he got you pregnant. Then his life would be complete.

But he’s happy to enjoy this life with you until the day comes.

“Why did you never mention Valentine's day to me?” Azriel asked as you got into bed.

You looked at him surprised, your eyes asking your question.

“Feyre and Rhys are celebrating it, they say it’s in two days?” “Yeah, it is.” You were quiet. Then sighed. “I just never got to celebrate it when I was younger, so I just didn’t see the point. I mean, you know I was never with anybody. My first and only kiss before you was Feyre.”

He pulled you into his side, listening the entire time of course. Your head was on his chest, above his heart, his arm wrapped around you.

“I get it, love.” Was all he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You did your little content happy shimmy and hummed against him.

He just held you tighter.

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

Two days later, on Valentines day, you woke up to a bouquet of metal roses on Azriel’s pillow. A shadow holding them together. You snorted to cover up the warmth in your chest, you laughed at the thought of Azriel giving an order to his shadows to hold metal roses for you. This poor shadow had to stay behind while he went to work.

When you read the note it said, “flowers that will last as long as our love.” He’s a cornball. But your cornball.

When you went downstairs, he had your favorite breakfast waiting for you, sweet and salty. Next to it, three books you’ve been wanting. The next note said:

“To keep you busy until our dinner date tonight. Wear whatever you want, but I’m partial to the blue silk gown.

-Your Pretty Boy, Azriel.”

Oh, he’s getting some good head tonight.

You went to the living room to find a new fuzzy blanket and fuzzy socks on the couch waiting for you. There was an assortment of chocolates on the table.

You could’ve started weeping there.

About halfway through the first book, around lunch, a delivery came of your favorite takeout.

Midafternoon, your favorite flowers were delivered.

5pm sharp, there was your husband, looking delicious. He matched you by wearing a blue silk flowy shirt. Black pants and nice shiny black shoes. He had a chain going down his chest that had your initials on it.

Meanwhile you were wearing the blue silk dress he requested. Black strappy heels and a leather jacket for the cold. You had a thigh chain though, with an “A” for him.

That nearly did him in.

You two began the walk down to the restaurant, a cute little hole in the wall by the river. You both loved the views, the food, the people. After a delicious three course meal including a yummy split dessert, you two decided to walk through the city.

You two laughed and were quite heavy on the PDA but hey, it’s Valentine's Day.

You had never been happier that you never celebrated Valentines before him, nobody can beat Az. He’s who you want to have life experiences with, you’re honored to.

(He got a gift the next day because you had no warning that you two were celebrating Valentines).

#acotar #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel fluff

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yoonguurt · 23 hours ago

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Pairing: non idol Jihoon x F!reader

Genre: fluff, angst if you squint, smut

Trope: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 5,088

Trigger Warnings: none

Summary: Jihoon always joins in when his group of friends makes fun of Mingyu for being a simp for his girlfriend. It isn’t that he thinks that a man shouldn’t go above and beyond for their significant other, it’s just that he hasn’t had a girlfriend that makes him want to go that far. Maybe one day, though.

A/N: This is for @ddeonghwa-s secret cupid event! Surpise @strawberry-skiess I'm your cupid! This honestly was hard to start, but once I started I just couldn't stop. I hope you enjoy it! Happy Valentine's Day (even though I'm a day late) Thanks to @kwanisms for this lovely little banner. I love it so much. This is for adults only, no minors allowed! I will fight you.

Read all of the other wonderful entries here

Smut Warnings: slight nipple play, dom!Jihoon, sub!reader, fingering, oral (f receiving) unprotected sex (do not), maybe two thigh slaps

“Well, if it isn’t the simp of the century.” Jeonghan’s voice floats through Jihoon’s ears and he looks to the door as Mingyu walks in. Over the last couple of months, calling their group giant a simp has become something of a ritual. They don’t mean it, they honestly think it’s adorable how whipped Mingyu is. And he certainly isn’t ashamed of it. He wears the title like a badge of honor. “Still single and bitchy, I see.” Mingyu’s retort is almost immediate, a cheshire grin adorning his face as he watches the rest of the group burst into laughter and Jeonghan’s face turn into a mix between a smirk and a scowl.

Jihoon retreats into his thoughts while his friends chatter amongst themselves. He does think it’s sweet how much Mingyu loves his girlfriend, he just isn’t sure that he understands. Sure, he’s had a few relationships of his own, and while he cared about them, even loved one or two, he has never known the amount of love Mingyu seems to wield. His friend found his self described love of his life around 4 months ago and he’s been head over heels the entire time. Jihoon has watched Mingyu rush to get to his phone when he gets a text, with a special ringtone for his girlfriend, and smile like an idiot at whatever it is she has said.

He’s lived through Mingyu leaving nights at the bar solely because his girl wanted to cuddle. When her birthday came around, the two men spent hours going through unlimited stores while Mingyu tried to find the perfect present. Every time Jihoon suggested something, Mingyu had a retort on why it wasn’t good enough. The new cd by her favorite band? “I don’t have enough time to get it signed.” The pretty pink purse that screamed something his girlfriend would like? “I already got her that one.” Eventually, the tall man had settled on a necklace that Jihoon was certain cost more than a used car. Mingyu had the money to throw around, he guessed.

Part of Jihoon wants to know what it’s like to feel like that. Another part thinks that it seems like a burden. He can’t decide where he stands on the topic. Sure, he wants that great love that novels describe, wants to give his heart to someone and know that they’ll always be there. But at the same time, he isn’t sure he’ll find someone that can deal with his finicky moods. There are times when he wants someone to cuddle, only to immediately change his mind. He knows that can be annoying, and he is working on it. One of his other issues is time. He takes his job seriously.

Working as a producer, he is a busy man. He doesn’t know if there’s a person out there that will understand that sometimes, he loses himself in his work. His phone drifts to the back of his mind, dates forgotten without him meaning to. It’s the main reason his relationships have failed. He genuinely doesn’t mean to, and it’s another thing he has been working on. He’s been getting better at responding to his friends in a timely manner, he’s even taken to setting alarms on his phones so he doesn’t miss the planned hangouts. Sure, he still falls into the music and forgets the world around him, but he’s getting better.

There has always been an exception, though. You. His best friend. The two of you have known each other for years, having met in freshman year of college. Your sunny disposition sometimes clashed with the grumpy facade he puts on, but it’s always worked. A couple of his exes thought there was something going on between the two of you, but that’s never been the case. He just clicks with you. You understand him. You’re a busy woman, too. The journalism world stops for no one.

“Isn’t that right, Jihoon?” He snaps head up toward the voice. Soonyoung looks at him expectantly, obviously waiting for him to agree with him. “Sorry, what?” The huff of air that comes from Soonyoung’s mouth lets him know how annoyed his friend is. “I said that it’s cute that Mingyu loves his girl so much, isn’t that right?” Honestly, he doesn’t know how to answer this. “Sure, it’s cute, but it seems exhausting.” The sound of a scoff comes from behind him and he turns to the sound. He hadn’t realized that you were here. He suddenly feels like he said something wrong, like when a teacher calls on you to answer in class and you fumble and answer wrong. It’s embarrassing for some reason. “So what I’m hearing is that you would find caring for your partner that much to be an inconvenience?” Everyone’s eyes flit between you and Jihoon, waiting for a debate to start. The two of you have always been like that. You’re able to have a small, argumentative conversation and then go back to joking like it never happened.

Jihoon sighs deeply, knowing where this is going. “That’s not what I said.” His tone lets you know just how annoyed at having a conversation like this again. “I’m just saying that Mingyu’s level of simpdom sounds like a bit much. I’m happy he has someone that he loves so much, but being at her beck and call constantly sounds tiring.” Mingyu responds before you can even open your mouth. “That isn’t how it is.” His tone isn’t defensive in any way. He just sounds like he’s explaining something to a child. “She doesn’t ask me to do any of that. She actually encourages me to have fun with you guys. I just feel so happy that I have her and I want to make sure she knows that.”

Jihoon stays silent for a moment, thinking over Mingyu’s words. He thinks to himself, wandering again if he’s ever had something like that. He thinks the closest thing he’s had is you. He’s dropped more things that he can count to be at your side when you need him. He’s even dipped on girlfriends because you were upset. Once, he canceled on his most recent ex just because you secured a front page spot for the local paper. He needed to be the one to celebrate your accomplishment with you, needed to be the first one to congratulate you. He didn’t want to think too deeply about what that meant. Sure, he had had a massive crush on you in college, he thought he might have been in love with you, but that had disappeared a long time ago.

When you showed no sign of reciprocating his feelings, he decided to let it go, letting you go, at least in the romantic sense.

Of course, there were still times where he’d look at you and think about how beautiful you were, especially when you’d just woken up and the light was hitting you in a specific way. But, that was just him appreciating your beauty as a best friend. He was sure of it. Realizing he had been quiet for too long, he glanced at Mingyu, nodding his head. “I guess I could see how someone could feel that way.” He chose to ignore the way Soonyoung cut his eyes toward him, knowing what he was thinking. Soonyoung had been the only person who had known about his college crush. He always insisted that you had felt the same, and that Jihoon still held a candle for you.

“You’ll find it one day, Hoon. Don’t close yourself off to it.” Your voice is strained, though you try to hide it. You’ve always admired Jihoon, even if he was a bit closed off. He’d never really let himself go in a relationship. It was like he never felt comfortable. But you knew him at his core, knew how sweet and thoughtful he was. He had always been there for you when you needed him, which was probably why your love for him had never died. You’d tried to find someone else, dated people, even loved one or two, but not like you loved Jihoon. No one could compare. You’ve seen every side of him and there isn’t a single one of them that you don’t adore. He’s also been growing his hair and God does he look better than you’ve ever seen him. You can tell his confidence has grown a little and that is even more attractive. You know you’re well and truly fucked, but you aren’t sure you want to change that.

The night winds down and everyone gathers their things to leave. Soonyoung takes the time to pull Jihoon aside, making the younger boy look at his friend in confusion. “Look, I know you’re going to deny it like you always do, but watching you two pine after each other is getting hard to do.” Jihoon opens his mouth, only to be silenced by Soonyoung’s hand lifting in the air. “Have you ever stopped to think that there’s a reason that relationships never worked out for either of you? If you haven’t, then think about it, ok?” Soonyoung clapped his friend on the shoulder before he moved to hug you and tell you goodbye.

“I’ll help clean up.” Jihoon’s words cut into your thoughts, distracting you from what it is you were thinking. You turned to face him, a teasing smirk gracing your features. “Take a look around. There’s nothing to clean up. Go home and actually get some sleep tonight. I know you have to be at the studio early tomorrow, just like I know you haven’t been sleeping. Just listen to me and go sleep.” He was baffled at how you knew that, but then again it was a talent you seemed to have. Knowing everything without him having to tell you. But then again, he guessed he had the same talent. It was like a sixth sense. Some real ‘There’s a disturbance’ shit. He simply nodded at you, saying goodnight and leaving without even stopping to think that you barely had to have any force behind your turn to get him to do exactly what you wanted.

The thinking came when he walked through his door. A lot of it. Soonyoung’s words began to float through his mind. Did they have any weight to them at all? Sure, relationships had really never worked out for the two of you, but that didn’t mean anything. Relationships come and go, that’s what they do. Occasionally, people get lucky and they find who they’re supposed to be with. Sometimes, they don’t. That was just life, it didn’t mean that the two of you were the reason the other’s relationships failed. The more he thought about it, though, the more merit Soonyoung’s words seemed to hold. Any time you needed him, he came running, and the same applied to you. You’ve both left dates and anniversaries because the other needed something. He’s had to assure quite a few exs that there was nothing romantic between the two of you and if he had to guess, he’d say you’ve done the same. Everything hits him at all once and he feels the need to sit down to process.

You’re going through your own mental roller coaster. You know that Jihoon could find his person if he would just let someone in. It doesn’t have to be you, though you desperately want it to be, you just want him to find someone that will make him happy, someone that will bring out the loving side you know that he has. You sigh deeply as you lock up your apartment, making your way to your bed to get some much needed sleep.

You don’t hear from Jihoon for a few days, but that isn’t totally unusual. Sometimes he gets so lost in the music and you just wait until he’s back in the land of the living. But as a whole week passes, you start to worry. He’s never gone more than 3 days without speaking to you. You try to play through the events of the last time you saw him, thinking about if you had done something out of the norm. The only thing you think of is the conversation everyone had about Mingyu. He must have been offended that he was ganged up on, but then again that didn’t make sense. It wasn’t the first time everyone had had this conversation and he has never reacted like this before. It takes a split second for you to make up your mind and grab your purse and walk out the door.

Jihoon sits at his computer, staring past it like it’s not even there. He can’t focus, hasn’t been able to focus for a week. His thoughts always float back to you and how he feels. Now that he has realized he does in fact have feelings for you still, he can’t seem to bring himself to face you. What if he acts different? What if you realize? He can’t risk it. There are too many years of friendship on the line. Sure, not answering your texts is the coward’s way out, but he doesn’t know what else to do. As he had sat on his couch a week ago, the realization that he was in love with you hit him in the face. Damn Soonyoung. He would have been totally fine if he had kept being ignorant. Now though, he knows that he’d do anything for you. He knows that he already does do anything for you.

The beeping on the keypad to his studio brings his attention back to reality. There are select few who know the code to his studio and he looks at the door with held breath, hoping it isn’t who he knows it is. You swing the door open, displeasure written all over your face. “What the fuck, Lee Jihoon?” He grimaces, hating that you’ve pulled his full name out of your pocket. If he didn’t before, he knows now that he is in deep trouble. He sits in his chair, slouching like a scolded child as you glare at him. “No text in a week. No reply in a week. Nothing to let me know that you’re even alive. Who the hell do you think you are?” Jihoon almost wants to laugh, thinking you’re adorable even when you’re angry, but he doesn’t dare. He knows that will only make things worse for him.

Jihoon is hit with a sudden urge to touch you and he can’t hold back. He quickly stands and moves towards you slowly, watching as your demeanor changes. You go from angry to confused as you watch his steps. He stops in front of you, wrapping his arms around you. “I’m sorry.” The words are whispered, but you can still hear them. All of the anger leaves you, almost. You hit his shoulder lightly, making him giggle slightly. “You damn well should be. Had my ass worried sick, asshole.” There’s a playfulness in your tone, one that you can’t help but let out. Your confusion grows as you realize that Jihoon hasn’t stopped hugging you. That is definitely different. Jihoon hates physical touch, he always has. In the entirety of your friendship, he’s only hugged you a handful of times and everyone has been quick, lasting only a few seconds.

“What happened to you in the past week for you to be so affectionate? You hate physical affection.” Your words come out teasing, trying to mask your genuine curiosity as a joke. He doesn’t answer for a moment, seeming content to just continue holding you. When he finally does speak, you choke on air, starting a small coughing fit. “Yeah, but I love you.” There’s no teasing tone. No joking. You can hear the sincerity in his voice. You have no words. No thoughts, head empty.

Jihoon pulls back just enough to look at you and you can see the hesitation and worry in his eyes. You need to say something, you want to say something, but nothing is coming out. Your mouth is opening and closing like a fish gasping for air and you’re sure you look ridiculous. When you finally find words, they aren’t what you planned to say. “Are you sure about that?” Jihoon can’t contain his laugh and the sound hits you in your gut. It makes every fiber of your being tingle. Hearing him laugh brings you back to reality and you give him a playful shove, smiling and letting out a huff of laughter of your own. “Shut up.” There’s no real bite to your words and you know that he knows that. “I tell you that I love you and your response is to ask me if I’m sure?” He’s teasing you and loving it and you pout. “Hey! It’s a perfectly valid question!” Looking at him your heart surges with affection.

“As funny as that was, I’m kind of panicking over here. A response would be nice, even if it’s a rejection.” Jihoon chews his lip as the nerves show on his face. You can’t help but smile at him and reach up and lace your fingers in the hair at the back of his neck. “Have I told you how much I love your hair like this?” Your statement throws him off guard and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “Wha-” You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Almost as much as I love you.” The smile that comes across his face could light up a room with no lights. He leans down and presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?” He giggles against your lips as you give him a pout and a shove. His reaction is to pull you closer to him, pressing you as close to his body as possible.

His eyes flit down to your lips before trailing back to your eyes, in silent question. You give him a slight nod, knowing that he’ll get the message. You watch as his lips slowly move towards yours, as if he’s teasing you by making you wait. You let out a whine of impatience and he giggles. He can’t help but give you what you want. When he finally presses his mouth to yours, it’s like the world explodes in a rainbow of colors you didn’t even know existed. You feel as if your entire purpose makes sense now that you have tasted his lips. It doesn’t take long before the sweet pecks turn into desperate, open mouthed kisses. His tongue dances with yours, fighting for dominance, which he quickly wins. The way he takes control of the kiss goes straight to your core. You’d thought about this and sure, you thought he’d be more of a dominant lover, but the reality is greater than what you could imagine. And this is only kissing. You can only imagine what it’s going to be like when he’s actually fucking you. The thought alone has your thighs clenching.

Of course, Jihoon notices even though you’re trying to be subtle about it. He pulls back with a smirk. “Oh? Is someone getting needy?” The way his voice drops in octave only causes you to clench tighter and let out a small whimper. Jihoon’s lips make their way to your neck, leaving small nibbles and kisses in their wake. “Aww. My poor baby. Already getting desperate, huh?” All you can do is nod against him as your hands grab at his shirt. He lets out a deep chuckle against the skin of your neck and the vibrations make you shiver. His hand slowly makes its way from your neck down the front of your chest, stopping just above your breast. He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, silent asking for consent. Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you take his hand, completely bypassing your clothed breast and placing it at the hem of your shirt. He takes the hint, leaning back just enough to lift your shirt from your body.

The chilly air in the studio causes your nipples to harden immediately and Jihoon’s eyes fall to your chest and darken with lust. His hands instantly find your bra covered breasts, pulling the cups down just enough to him to see your peaked buds. Taking one in between his thumb and index fingers, he pinches lightly, just enough to see your reaction. When you arch into him, he smirks, knowing he’s found something you like. “Hoon, please.” Your voice is light and airy, the need evident. “Please what, sweetheart? What do you need? You’ve gotta use your words, pretty.” The way you buck your hips and whine tells him all he needs to know.

He moves his fingers to the button of your pants, making a show of slowly loosening the button. His teasing is both driving you crazy and making you more horny than you have ever been. Your hips are bucking into nothing, desperate for some sort of stimulation. When he finally gets the button undone, he sinks to his knees, pulling your pants down as he lowers himself. “Hands above your head, baby. No moving unless I say.” The softness of his tone does nothing to hide the dominance and it makes you weak. You nod and move your hands above your head against the wall. Jihoon flashes you a smile that makes your heart flutter. “What a good girl I have. You listen so well, my love.”

When he taps your leg to signal for you to lift your legs to step out of the pants. You obey slowly, trying to tease him a little bit. A quick slap to your thigh makes you gasp, a moan slipping from your lips. “Behave. I’m trying to make our first time sweet. Don’t test me, angel.” His patience wavers slightly when he can’t wait to remove your panties, simply using his strength to rip them so that they fall off of you. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen. “Holy shit, Jihoon.” He smirks like he knows how much his strength affects you, because he does. He doesn’t say anything, simply lifts your right leg and places it over his shoulder. Your breath hitches as you look down at him, making eye contact as he makes a show of sticking his tongue out, flicking it over your clit. The sudden contact makes you jerk forward and your eyes fall closed. Even though the action was nowhere near enough, it made you even more wet. You’re practically dripping at this point and once glance at the man below you lets you know that he enjoys the effect he has on you.

He spends what feels like forever just slowly giving your clit kitten licks, driving you insane just as slowly. Without warning, his actions speed up. He grips your hips and harshly pulls them forward, shoving his face as far into your pussy as he can get it. The moan you emit is bordering on pornagraphic. Your fingers twitch, wanting so badly to grip him by the hair and ride his face. As if he can sense your thoughts, he pulls back, making you whine. “Don’t even try it. Move those hands and you won’t cum at all.” The slight growl in his voice does things to your insides. “Yes, sir.” Your voice is low and desperate and Jihoon groans, approving of your choice of title.

He dives back into your cunt, quickly sliding his middle finger inside of you, his ring following a few seconds later. He curls his fingers, searching for the spot that he knows will make you come undone. It doesn’t take him long to find it, pressing the tips of his fingers against it and rubbing. You can’t control the sounds that come from your throat and you’re beyond glad the studio is soundproof. You can feel yourself getting closer to your peak and you do your best to communicate that. “Ji, please. So close.” Your hips are moving without your control, chasing your end on instinct. Jihoon leans back long enough to give you permission to come. “That’s it baby. Let it go. Let me taste you. Give it to me.” His words throw you over the precipice, launching your mind into a different plane, one that is filled with nothing but pleasure and the sound of his voice. Jihoon works you through your orgasm, slowing down gradually to draw it out as long as possible.

“Breathe, love. In and out.” You don’t even realize how hard you’re panting, but you listen to him regardless. Your eyes are closed and your legs feel like jelly and you’re aware that you’re only standing because he’s holding you up. You aren’t sure when he stood, brushing his fingers across your face and through your hair. When you finally return to reality, he’s looking at you with concern. “Are you ok?” His voice is shaky with hints of worry and his eyes flicker all over your face like he’s looking for some sign of distress. It takes you a moment to respond and when you do, you can only say the first thing that pops into your mind. “Are you fucking kidding me? That was insane and amazing and I need your cock in me right now or I’ll die.” The laugh Jihoon lets out is loud and unrestrained and it makes you smile.

He places a quick kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself briefly on his lips. His hands take hold of yours and he slowly moves you toward the couch that sits against the wall behind his computer chair. With another kiss, he steps back, his hands moving to the hem of his shirt. “Lay down on your back, baby.” You don’t even think before doing as he says, keeping your eyes on his as he lifts his shirt over his head. It isn’t the first time you’ve seen Jihoon shirtless, but the fact that you know what’s about to happen makes it all the more erotic. He drops the shirt on the floor, not caring where it lands, moving his hands to the basketball shorts he’s wearing. Your breath hitches in anticipation, and you refuse to even blink as he eases his shorts and boxers down together. When his length comes into view, your mouth goes dry. He’s the perfect amount of length and girth, not too long or short and you just know the stretch will be heavenly. He watches you look at him for a moment before he steps out of his clothes completely and makes his way to the couch where your body lies limp and needy.

His eyes wander your body, simply taking you in, clearly liking the way you’re spread out for him. “You are so fucking beautiful, do you know that?” The way he’s looking at you makes your insides turn to mush and you reach for him, making grabby hands at him. He gives you a soft smile, kneeling in between your legs and linking his fingers with yours. After giving each hand a kiss, he lifts them to fit around his neck, leaning down to give a slow kiss, full of nothing but love. Giving you one last questioning look, he waits for you to smile and nod before he reaches down to align his length with your entrance. When he pushes forward, it feels like the world expands and closes in at the same time. You’re hyper aware of everything while also only focusing on the feel of him. It’s like you’ve finally found a piece of yourself that you didn’t even know you were missing.

The first thrust steals every bit of oxygen you have, replacing it with love and just Jihoon. The sound he makes causes a groan to erupt from your throat. He sounds wrecked already and you love that you’re the one that is making him that way. His face buries itself in your neck, lips littering kisses along the exposed skin. “Fuck, you feel so good.” You can tell that he’s holding himself back. You lift your head just enough for your lips to be close to his ear, giving it a soft bite. “Jihoon, you can be soft later. Right now, I need you to fuck me.” It seems like that’s all he needed to hear. He pulls his hips back until his cock is almost completely out of you before he slams back in. Hard. The movement jolts your whole body, shoving your head against the arm of the couch. Without missing a beat, Jihoon brings his hand down to place it between your head and the couch, his thrusts still hard and fast.

With the combination of his speed, depth and roughness, you’re embarrassingly close to coming for the second time. You dig the nails of one hand into the skin of his back, the other making its way to his hair, pulling just enough for him to feel it. The groan he lets out lets you know that he very much enjoys that. Your moans are loud and mixing with the filthy babbles that are coming from him. Praise of how good you feel, how badly he’s wanted this, how you’re his now. Your orgasm hits you full force without you even realizing just how close you were. The squeezing of your pussy around his cock and the look on your face has Jihoon following you immediately, filling your cunt with every bit of cum he has. You look up at him, and his breath hitches. You’re so, so beautiful and so, so his. Looking at you like this, he knows that he would do anything for you. Anything just to see you happy and smiling. He would eat glass if that would cause you joy, even though he knows it wouldn’t. A sudden realization hits him and he lowers his head.

“Shit, I’m a simp, too.”

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bright-side20 · 2 days ago

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Part two of this , featuring smut. Enjoy, and happy Valentine’s Day! 🫶

Azriel stood in the warmth of the house, rain still dripping from him, his body aching from more than just exhaustion. The weight of her words pressed against his ribs, heavy and undeniable.

I love you.

He had spent so long convincing himself he was unworthy of such things of love, tenderness, of her. Yet here she was...

“Come,” she murmured, taking his hand.

He let her lead him. The bathing chamber was filled with the soothing scent of lavender and cedar, steam rising as she filled the copper tub. He watched her move, graceful, certain ,like she had already decided he would stay. Like she had already decided he was hers to care for.

She reached for Truth-Teller first, unfastening the sheath strapped to his thigh. She set the blade aside on the marble counter, her gaze lingering on the dark steel for a heartbeat before returning to him. Only then did she move to the buckles of his leathers, working through the fastenings in his back with gentle patience.

Azriel exhaled sharply when she loosened the final strap, the leathers peeling away from his rain-soaked skin. Cool air rushed over him, followed by the warmth of her fingertips lightly tracing down his spine. His hands clenched at his sides, muscles tensing under her touch.

“Elain,” he rasped.

She hummed softly in response, her fingers ghosting over his arm before she stepped back.

“I’ll be right back,” she said.

She disappeared into her room, leaving him standing there, bare except for his soaked undershorts. The tub was now full, steam rising in curling wisps. Azriel exhaled, forcing himself to release the tension coiling in his chest. Slowly, he slipped off his shorts. The hot water engulfed him as he adjusted his wings and lowered himself into the tub, the heat sinking deep into his muscles. He let his head fall back against the rim.

When she returned, she was wearing a fresh pink nightgown soft, clean, and dry. The fabric clung to her curves in. Her damp hair spilled over her shoulders.

And then...her touch.

Her hands sweeping over his shoulders, down his arms. He swallowed hard, his body going rigid before he forced relaxed under her gentle care. He didn’t move as she lathered soap into her hands, working it over his chest. He had been touched before, but never had he felt wanted like this. When she lathered soap into his hair, his eyes fluttered shut, a quiet sigh slipping from his lips.

“Elain,” he murmured.

“I’m here,” she whispered, her fingers combing through his hair, carefully rinsing the soap away. Azriel exhaled a slow, uneven breath. Elain’s fingers lingered, her nails lightly scraping against his scalp in a way that sent a shiver down his spine...

Azriel stared at his hands, the water flowing over his knuckles. For the first time in centuries, he felt the pull to open up. Maybe it was the warmth in her gaze, the quiet way she listened...not out of obligation, not to judge, but because she genuinely wanted to understand him.

So he spoke.

"It happened after my brothers," Azriel said, his voice barely above a whisper. "After I made them scream the way they made me scream."

Elain didn’t flinch at the coldness in his tone, so he continued.

"I was different after that," he admitted. "Colder. Everyone looked at me with fear in their eyes. Even Cassian kept his distance. I didn’t care. I didn’t want anyone close."

"Rhys’s father used me more than ever then," Azriel continued, his gaze fixed on the water rippling around his hands. "I was efficient. I didn’t ask questions. I did what I was told." His throat tightened. "Including the night he ordered me to kill an old male."

Elain’s fingers, resting on the edge of the tub, twitched, but she remained silent, letting him speak.

"He was no one important," Azriel said, though the words felt hollow. "Just a scholar. He lived in a crumbling estate, surrounded by books no one cared to read anymore. He was old, frail. No threat to anyone. But Rhys’s father…" Azriel exhaled sharply. "He was paranoid. He believed the male had spoken treason."

Elain frowned. "What did he say?"

"He told the High Lord that he would lose his loved ones to his own arrogance."

Elain leaned in closer, listening intently.

"Rhys's father believed in eliminating anyone who questioned his control. So he sent me to handle it. Not just to kill him...to interrogate him first. To make sure there wasn’t more he was hiding." Azriel shut his eyes, but it did nothing to block out the memories. The cold stone chamber. The scent of blood.

"He knew," Azriel whispered. "The moment I walked in, he looked at me like he had already seen it all before. He didn’t beg. He didn’t fight. He only smiled at me and said… ‘The night will bow before the light, and the rose will bloom even in shadows.’ Then he told me I would know the truth when I saw her."

Elain’s lips parted, her eyes wide with something unreadable. Slowly, she lifted a hand, brushing a damp strand of hair from his forehead, her touch achingly gentle.

"Was he… a seer?"

Azriel nodded. "I didn’t listen to him. I did my job. And when he was too weak to speak, I ended it."

The silence between them stretched. Azriel forced himself to look at her, to see if she had finally realized what he was. But there was no horror in her gaze. Only sorrow.

"I didn’t know," he rasped. "I didn’t know that the next year, Rhys’s mother and sister would be slaughtered. That we would fail to stop it. That if his father hadn’t been too arrogant to listen to that male…" He swallowed hard, his voice breaking. "If I hadn’t been so...I wasn’t even angry. I just... I didn’t feel anything. Maybe… maybe I could have..."

"You were a weapon to him," Elain interrupted, her voice firm but gentle. "He manipulated your state of mind and used you."

Azriel shook his head. "That’s not an excuse."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he continued.

"When you started having your visions, I knew there was nothing wrong with you. The more I listened to you, the more I realized this was your power. Your gift. And all it took was reading one of the books I kept from the scholar ." His breath hitched. "I killed the one who told me about you. And I could tell you about the hundreds of people I tortured and killed because I was emotionless. Because I was falling into the heart of the pit."

Elain cradled his face in her hands.

"And I’m sure you could tell me about the thousands you’ve saved," she murmured. "Including me."

Azriel stilled.

She shifted closer, her hand still resting on his cheek. "What you did in the past does not define you, Azriel." She pressed a soft kiss to his lips before whispering, "That is not all you are. It is not all you will ever be."

He stared at her, at the quiet certainty in her eyes. For so long, he had carried his past like a brand, a wound that would never heal. Yet here she was...offering him love. Offering him acceptance.

Her hands slid down to his. "Come on," she said, tugging lightly. "Let’s get you out of there."

He let her help him, her grip firm as she guided him up. Her eyes flickered downward before she quickly looked away, her cheeks darkening.

Azriel’s lips twitched, just slightly. "Elain," he said, voice rough. "I’m naked."

"I know," she blurted, turning to grab a towel, her face burning. She thrust it toward him without meeting his gaze. "Here."

He took it, a quiet chuckle escaping as he wrapped it around his waist. She was still unsettled, her eyes stubbornly avoiding his chest. The pink in her cheeks deepened when he smirked at her. He might have teased her, but instead, something in his chest tightened… something fragile, something aching.

She turned back, another towel in hand, he expected her to simply pass it to him. But instead, she stepped closer, lifting onto her toes to press the cloth to his damp hair.

He froze, breath catching.

She was so close. So warm.

The gentle drag of the towel over his scalp, the way her fingers brushed the tips of his ears...it was such a simple thing, yet so intimate that his throat tightened. His wings drooped, exhaustion pulling at him.

"Azriel?"

He exhaled sharply. The weight of centuries, of sleepless nights, of battles ...it all crashed over him at once. His wings felt like stone, too heavy to hold up. His body ached in a way he couldn’t explain, but it wasn’t just physical. It was something deeper. Something he had buried for too long.

Elain let the towel fall, her hands finding his shoulders. "Come here," she said, gently pulling him down.

And he did.

He didn’t even realize he was shaking until he felt her arms wrap around his neck. A strangled sound left him, and then the tears came...silent, relentless. He buried his face in her neck, his grip tightening around her waist.

She held him through it, her fingers threading into his damp hair. And when the sobs faded into ragged breaths, when he finally lifted his head, he found her looking at him with nothing but understanding.

"I love you."

Elain’s breath hitched.

"I love you," he said again. " Elain...I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was the first time you asked me if I could fly. Or the first time I took your hand in mine. But I love you."

His scarred hand lifted, brushing softly against her cheek. "And I think… I think I have for a long time."

Elain swallowed hard, her eyes bright, lips quivering. Then she smiled.

A small, breathtaking thing.

Her thumb traced the damp path of his tears. "And I love you, too, Azriel."

And he closed the space between them.

The first brush of his lips was soft, tentative, but her warmth stole through him like the first rays of dawn after an endless night. He lingered there, breathing her in, his nose brushing against hers.

But when she sighed, when her lips parted slightly in invitation...Azriel broke.

It wasn’t urgent like their earlier kiss. He kissed her deeper, slower, his tongue tracing along the seam of her lips before slipping inside. The taste of her flooded his senses...honey, sweet and intoxicating....

His hands slid down her back to that sweet ass, pulling her closer until every inch of her was pressed against him.

Elain moaned a quiet, breathy sound against his lips...and his grip tightened as if she were the only thing keeping him from unraveling completely.

She was.

Azriel tilted her head back, taking his time, savoring her. He licked into her mouth, coaxing, teasing, until she met him with equal fervor, her hands sliding up his bare chest, her fingers scraping lightly over his muscles.

He shuddered, a groan escaping his throat.

Elain kissed him like she knew.

Like she knew how much he had starved for this. For her.

Like she knew that this wasn’t just a kiss...it was him.

They broke apart slowly, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths, as if he had poured something of himself into that kiss.

Elain’s hands slid down his arms, her touch light, reassuring. She met his gaze without hesitation. "Come with me," she murmured.

She took his hand, guiding him out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. Azriel barely had the strength to think as she led him to the bed, easing him down onto the soft sheets. He exhaled as his body sank into their warmth, his head falling back against her pillows...pillows that smelled like her.

Elain's fingertips grazed his temple. "You're tired," she whispered.

Azriel opened his eyes. She slipped onto the bed beside him, curling her body against his. He didn’t resist when she guided his head down until it rested over her breasts, where the steady, soothing beat of her heart filled his ears.

He exhaled shakily, pressing closer.

Her fingers traced the lines of his shoulders, down the ridges of his spine...gentle, warm, dangerously close to his wings. He wished she would touch them. Wanted her to.

Slowly, the tension in his body ebbed. His wings stretched slightly, then relaxed fully against the mattress. Elain kept her slow caresses, her hands moving in soothing circles over his arms, his neck...until he was melting into her touch.

Azriel let out a contented sigh. He felt her warmth, the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath him, the scent of jasmine and honey wrapping around him, lulling him deeper, deeper…

She was his home. The place he had searched for, longed for, without ever knowing it. And for the first time in centuries, Azriel slept.

A deep, dreamless, peaceful sleep.

....

Azriel stirred, the warmth against his chest unfamiliar yet… right. For a moment, he thought it was another dream...the kind that always slipped through his fingers when he woke. But as his eyes fluttered open, he realized...this wasn’t a dream.

Elain was in his arms.

At some point during the night, they had shifted, and now she lay nestled against him, her face pressed to his neck, her breath soft and warm against his skin. His arm was draped over her waist, holding her close...as if, even in sleep, he hadn’t wanted to let her go.

He blinked at the clock across the room, his eyes widening. Past midday. He had slept too much. More than he had in centuries.

A slow exhale left his lips. Then, Elain stirred. She shifted against him, her hand gliding over his chest. A soft yawn escaped her before her lashes fluttered open, big brown eyes meeting his.

She smiled...sleepy, warm, beautiful.

Her fingers trailed up his throat, brushing over his jaw, her touch light, unhurried. As if she, too, wanted to savor this moment.

"Did you sleep well?" she murmured.

Azriel let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Too well."

Her smile deepened, but before she could say anything else, he rolled her beneath him his wings slightly flaring. She gasped, but he only brushed his lips over her jaw, his voice a whisper against her skin.

"It’s because of you."

Elain's fingers drifted over his bare chest, unhurried. Her touch lingered over the tattoo inked over his skin, tracing the swirling patterns.

Then, before he could think, before he could breathe...her lips followed.

Azriel let out a low sound as she pressed soft, open mouthed kisses over his tattoo, her tongue flicking out to taste his skin. His hands fisted in the sheets beside her, his control hanging by a thread.

“Elain,” he warned, voice hoarse.

She only pressed another kiss over his heart, her breath warm against his skin as her fingers trailed lower.

With a growl, Azriel captured her wrists, pinning them above her head. He watched the way her lips parted, how her breath hitched at the feel of him pressing her into the mattress.

He kissed her deep, consuming, his tongue sweeping against hers as he drank her in. Elain whimpered into his mouth, her body arching, pressing into his throbing cock.

Azriel’s breath came in rough, uneven pulls as he dragged his lips down Elain’s throat, tasting the delicate skin, feeling the way she trembled beneath him. He wanted to take his time, but the way she sighed...soft and aching...

Elain lifted her head slightly, watching him, as he kissed lower, down the center of her chest, over the soft swell of her breast. He pressed his lips to the thin fabric of her gown , his tongue flicking out in a slow, teasing caress over her sensitive nipples .

A gasp left her lips, her breath catching as his hands skimmed down her sides, tracing the delicate curve of her waist before slipping lower, pushing up the fabric of her nightgown. She lifted her arms, allowing him to ease it over her head, and his breath hitched at the sight of her...her perfect, creamy skin glowing in the light, her curly brown hair scattered across the pillow, her soft, round breasts rising and falling with each breath. His gaze lingered, darkening with desire, as he took in the delicate pink of her nipples, now taut and hard, peeking out like tender petals against the smoothness of her skin. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by her beauty...like she was a goddess carved from sunlight, too perfect to be real.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick, his hand gently cupping her breast, thumb brushing over her nipple.

Elain’s cheeks flushed, her lashes lowering, but then she pressed against him again, desperate, needy. Azriel hissed at the friction, and he pinched her nipple just enough to make her gasp. He smirked, dragging his lips over her jaw, his breath hot against her skin. "Patience, love."

Azriel lowered his mouth to her chest, the heat of her skin searing against his lips. He felt the rapid rise and fall of her breath beneath him, the soft swell of her breast pressing against his mouth. When his lips brushed the taut peak of her nipple, a shiver of need shot through him, and his mouth closed around it, drawing it in with soft pressure. His teeth grazed her nipple, and her body jolted in response. He couldn’t resist, his teeth returned to tease the sensitive peak, and a soft whimper escaped her lips. Azriel’s pulse raced as he pulled back, only to let his tongue trace slow, deliberate circles around her other nipple, savoring the soft texture beneath him. He moved lower, his mouth continuing to worship her, trailing kisses across her ribs and down her stomach. Every breathy sound she made sent heat curling through him, urging him on.

Then he reached to the soft skin of her thighs, his scarred hands parting them just enough as he settled between them. He glanced up, meeting her gaze, waiting. He watched her swallow, her fingers twisting in the sheets, but she didn’t pull away.

Instead, she let out a shaky exhale and parted her legs just a little more, offering herself to him.

He pressed a kiss to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, then another, and another...closer, teasing, never quite where she needed him. Elain let out a small, desperate sound, her head tilting back against the pillows, her body trembling beneath his touch. His fingers found her through the lace of her underwear, stroking, massaging, feeling the damp heat of her. Her knees buckled, her thighs twitching.

“Azriel,” she whispered, a plea.

He hooked his fingers into the delicate fabric, and she arched for him, helping him slip it down until she lay bare beneath him. But the instant she was exposed, he saw the soft flush spread across her cheeks. Her legs shifted, closing slightly, and he waited, his gaze never leaving hers. She parted her legs just enough, and he let out a low, guttural hiss at the sight of her...slick, waiting, perfect.

“Fuck, Elain,” Azriel growled, his fingers sliding through her dripping folds, feeling how soaked, how ready she was for him.

She arched against him, grinding shamelessly, her breath coming in desperate, gasping moans. "Azriel," she choked out.

He hooked his arms beneath her knees and wrenched them apart, spreading her so wide she had nowhere to hide. Her breath hitched, but she didn’t look away,not when his fingers dug into her thighs, not when his head lowered between them, not when his hot breath ghosted over her aching, swollen clit.

Then he licked into her... slow at first, just enough to make her whimper. Then rougher. Deeper. His tongue dragged through her folds like he wanted to drown in her.

"You taste good," he groaned, his voice muffled against her. "So sweet."

Her entire body trembled as he sucked her clit between his lips, flicking it roughly before releasing it with a wet, obscene sound. She gasped, hips jerking, but his hands tightened as he held her exactly where he wanted her.

Azriel watched her, the way her fingers clenched the mattress, gripping the sheets so tightly her knuckles turned white.

Reaching up, he grabbed her wrist, prying it from the sheets and guiding it into his hair. “Hold on,” he said “I want to feel you.”

He felt her fingers clench in his hair, holding him there, urging him on. He growled against her, the vibration making her shudder beneath him. Then buried his face between her thighs, licking and sucking with an almost desperate hunger, his hands gripping her tighter as he lost himself in the taste of her. He ate her like a starved male, determined to drive her to the edge, to make her feel every inch of the craving consuming him.

She bucked against him, writhing as his tongue pressed deep, as he teased and tormented her with slow, devastating strokes. But when he slipped a finger inside her, curling it just right Elain cried out, her entire body tightening.

“That’s it,” he murmured against her, his voice rough. “Take what you need, Elain.”

She did. She ground against his mouth, chasing her pleasure, using him just as he wanted her to. And gods, he loved it.

When he added a second finger, stretching her, she shattered with a sharp, gasping sob, her walls pulsing around him, drenching him in her release. He didn’t stop, didn’t let her come down, fucking her with his fingers, his tongue laving over her clit until she was whimpering, pushing at his shoulders.

Only then did he pull back, his lips and chin glistening with her arousal. He dragged his tongue over his bottom lip savoring her, his gaze never leaving hers as he crawled up her body.Then he kissed her,leting her taste herself on his tongue.

Elain moaned, her legs tightening around his waist, locking him to her, her bare, soaked heat grinding against his cock, separated only by the thin towel.

Azriel moaned, his hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as he rocked against her, desperate and aching, feeling how perfectly she fit against him. He wanted to bury himself inside her, to make her his in every way, to lose himself in the way she felt, the way she moaned for him.

But he needed to hear it. Needed her to say it.

“Elain,” he murmured, his lips dragging over her jaw, her ear. “Tell me what you want.”

Her fingers found the edge of his towel and with one motion she shoved it aside.

He watched as her breath hitched, her eyes darkening as she took him in ,his cock, thick, hard, flushed with need. He saw the way her lips parted, the way a soft, helpless sound slipped from her throat. His cock twitched in response.

Azriel clenched his jaw “Elain,” he said

she lifted those wide brown eyes to his and whispered, “Put it in me.” A slow exhale. “Make me yours.”

His mouth crushed against hers his teeth grazing her lower lip before he pulled back just enough to line himself up. His hands gripped her thighs, spreading her, holding her open for him.

And then he thrust inside her in one smooth stroke.

Elain cried out, arching against him, her fingers biting into his shoulders.

Azriel's head dropped to her shoulder, his breath ragged as her body clenched around him, impossibly tight, impossibly hot, gripping him like she never wanted to let go.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, his voice shaking. “You feel...” He couldn’t even finish.

She whimpered, shifting her hips, her walls fluttering around him .“Move,” she begged, breathless. “Azriel, please...”

He pulled out slow, making sure she felt every inch of him before he slammed back in, setting a ruthless rhythm. She gasped his name, again and again, her legs tightening around him as if she wanted him deeper, as if she never wanted him to stop.

And gods, the way she moved with him, the way she met every thrust, the way her voice cracked on his name...

It wrecked him.

He didn’t just want to take her. He wanted to claim her so thoroughly she’d still feel him tomorrow, next week, forever...

Her pleasure built again...faster, harder...her muscles tightening, her body trembling beneath him. Azriel felt it, felt the way she clenched around him, gripping him so perfectly it made his vision blur, each thrust sending her closer, sending them both spiraling toward the edge.

“Come for me,” he said. One hand slipped between them, fingers finding her clit, rubbing it in circles.

Elain shattered.

She came with a cry, her body arching, her walls squeezing him so tight it nearly broke him. The sound of her, the feel of her, dragged him under, and with one final, bruising thrust, Azriel followed his release hitting him.

A shuddering moan tore from his throat as he buried himself deep, spilling inside her, his entire body trembling with the force of it. He stayed still, buried inside her, his lips trailing soft, reverent kisses over her shoulder, the curve of her neck, the delicate line of her jaw.

“You're mine,” he breathed

He felt her body tense, her breath hitching. The words settled in her, deep and permanent. He could feel it...the way they connected, the weight of the truth hanging between them.

Her hands, tangled in his hair, pulled him closer, her legs tightening around him, pulling him deeper. Her eyes locked with his,and she whispered, “And you’re mine.”

His heart stuttered at her words. He shuddered again, a tremor running through his whole body. His soul had known long before his mind did. She was his. And gods, he was hers.

His fingers slid down, gently tracing the curve of her collarbone, across the delicate skin of her throat, pressing lightly against her pulse. His mouth hovered just above hers, breaths mingling.

And then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said it.

"I love you, Elain."

Her lips brushed over his, barely a kiss, "I love you, Azriel."

A wave of emotion washed over him, deeper than anything physical. His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer, and he knew, without a doubt, that he would never let go. Something shifted between them, something more profound than words, more enduring than promises...

#pro elriel #elriel #elriel supremacy #elain x azriel #elriel fanfic #pro elain #pro azriel

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ikkyfics · 2 days ago

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Discounted Hearts

Remus Lupin x f!reader

Summary: The 50% discount for couples seemed like the perfect excuse when you asked Remus to come along. You reached the counter, and the barista looked you both over. “Sorry, but... we can only apply the discount if you kiss. House policy,” she announced, her teasing smile dancing on her lips.

Warnings: muggle au, fluffy, no use of y/n, pre relationship

A/N: happy valentine’s day to everyone!! (it's a little funny, because here valentine's day is only celebrated in june) I hope you enjoy reading it <3333

Masterlist

The line at the café stretched along the sidewalk, with couples exchanging shy smiles and interlaced fingers. The aroma of coffee and hot chocolate floated in the air, and you couldn’t help but cast an anxious glance at the entrance. You were finally here, standing in front of the café you’d always wanted to visit but that was far too expensive for your budget. The 50% discount for couples seemed like the perfect excuse—or at least, that’s what you told yourself when you asked Remus to come along.

“Thanks for coming,” you murmured, trying to keep your voice casual.

“It’s not like I could say no.” He smiled—a small but genuine smile—and you felt something tighten in your chest. His brown hair was tousled by the wind, a strand falling across his forehead in a way you found utterly endearing. His brown eyes, tinged with amber in the soft evening light, were fixed on you.

You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the heat rising up your neck. “Look, it shouldn’t be that hard. We just need to look like... a normal couple.”

Remus lowered his gaze, a faint blush creeping up his cheeks. “Normal, right. Easy.”

You laughed, and before you could second-guess yourself, you looped your arm through his. He stiffened for a moment but didn’t pull away. The touch felt right—natural in a way it shouldn’t have.

“There. We don’t even look like we’re pretending.” You cast a glance at your reflection in the café window. The glass was fogged, but it captured the outlines of the two of you together. The picture seemed almost perfect. “I think we look cute.”

Remus chuckled, the color in his cheeks deepening. “You’re brave for saying that. I’m just over here trying to remember how to walk.”

“I didn’t invite you to torture you, I swear,” you said with a smile, though your heart was pounding furiously. You knew he was reserved, but you’d always sensed there was something beyond his shyness—a quiet kind of connection that only the two of you shared.

The line finally moved, and you were ushered inside. The warmth of the café enveloped you, the scent of coffee and sugar heightening everything. You reached the counter, and the barista—a girl with a playful smile and watchful eyes—looked you both over.

“Sorry, but... we can only apply the discount if you kiss. House policy,” she announced, her teasing smile dancing on her lips.

The world seemed to stop for a moment. The café’s noise—the soft conversations, the clinking of cups, the hiss of the milk steamer—all faded away. Your heart raced, heat flooding your face. A nervous smile tugged at the corners of your mouth before you could stop it.

Your eyes sought Remus’s. He was already looking at you.

“So...” you began, but the word felt heavy on your tongue. You couldn’t just say out loud that it was all pretend.

Remus understood. Of course he did. There was a silent understanding between you, as there always had been.

“It’s okay,” he said, his voice soft—steady, but with something more hidden at the edges.

Before you could process it, Remus lifted his hand and gently touched your face. His fingertips brushed your skin, and it felt like an electric current shot through you. His eyes were locked on yours, deep and warm like melted honey, and for a moment, the world grew small—existing only for the two of you.

The kiss started timidly. His lips brushed yours with a lightness that barely felt real. A whisper of silk, hesitant and unsure, like he was stepping into something unknown. But then, almost imperceptibly, the kiss changed.

The touch became more certain. There was something neither of you dared name but couldn’t ignore any longer. He leaned in a little more, and the world around you disappeared. The café, the line, the barista—none of it mattered. Only the warm, soft taste of Remus, his fingers grazing the line of your jaw, and the too-rapid thudding of your heart.

When your lips finally parted, both of you were breathless. Remus didn’t pull away. Your faces remained close—so close that you could feel the warmth of his skin, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. He looked like he was about to lean in again, his eyes darkened with an intensity that made you shiver.

But then he stopped.

“Kiss accepted,” the barista declared, her grin even wider. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you two.”

You blinked, reality rushing back like a gust of cool air. An uncertain smile spread across your lips as you tried to catch your breath. Remus lowered his hand slowly but didn’t fully let go.

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you walked to a corner table, away from curious eyes. The warmth of his touch was steady, as if he didn’t want to let go.

You sat down, and the silence between you felt different now. It wasn’t awkward or uncomfortable. It was full of everything that hadn’t been said.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly, your eyes drifting to the faint scars that marked his hands. You’d always thought they were beautiful—a part of the story that made him who he was.

Remus looked at you. His smile was small, shy, but so genuine that it made your chest ache. “Yeah. I am.”

He slid his hand across the table to yours. His fingers laced through yours with a softness that felt devastating. The touch was firm yet gentle. Like a promise.

And it was real.

For a moment, neither of you moved. All that mattered was the warmth of your joined hands, the exchanged glances, and the silence filled with unspoken meaning.

Remus looked at you again, and the entire world seemed to narrow to this one moment.

“Maybe...” He stopped, as if searching for the right words, his eyes diving into yours.

You waited, heart beating faster, but you didn’t rush him. You knew Remus well enough to understand that he was someone who thought before speaking, someone who didn’t say things lightly.

“Maybe we should...” He bit his lower lip, a soft blush already staining his cheeks. “Maybe we should kiss again. But, um... not for a discount.”

The smile you tried to hide fought its way out. It was the kind of thing only Remus would say—awkward and adorable. You had always liked that part of him—that genuine shyness, as if he was constantly surprised to be cared for.

“Oh, sure,” you teased softly. “Then, why?”

Remus rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping briefly to your still-entwined hands on the table. “Maybe... because I liked it,” he admitted, his voice so low it almost got lost in the background noise of the café.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks, but you didn’t look away. There was something about this moment—not nervous or embarrassed, but filled with a tenderness too precious to break.

“Remus,” you said softly, and he lifted his gaze immediately, his eyes locking onto yours again. “I liked it too.”

For a moment, no words were spoken. But no words were needed. The silence was filled with everything you understood about each other.

Remus lightly squeezed your fingers between his, the rough calluses of his skin sliding carefully against yours. “I think... I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” he confessed. “About you.”

The air felt lighter, softer. And somehow, more intense.

“Funny,” you murmured, leaning slightly over the table. “I’ve been thinking about you too.”

His smile appeared slowly, like something he’d been holding back for too long and was finally letting escape. And suddenly, it felt as if all that pretending, that little theater for a discount, had opened a door you were both ready to step through.

“So, if I wanted to kiss you again...” Remus began, his voice soft and hesitant. “Now... would that be weird?”

A gentle shiver ran down your spine, but the smile that spread across your face was immediate, natural. “Not at all.”

He hesitated for just a second before standing and walking around the small table. His warmth seemed to wrap around you before he even sat next to you. Now closer, the outside world faded even further away.

“Okay,” he murmured, his brown eyes meeting yours, his breath so close you could feel its warmth against your skin.

Remus leaned in slowly, and the kiss that followed this time was different. There was no same shyness or doubt as before. It was tender and, at the same time, eager, as if he were pouring months—maybe years—of unspoken thoughts into that moment.

You smiled against his lips, and you felt the soft curve of his mouth respond to yours. There was a lightness, almost a silly happiness, in the way Remus’s lips explored yours, as if you were both discovering something that had always been there but now made sense in a new and brilliant way.

When you finally pulled apart, he let his forehead rest against yours, his eyes closed for a moment.

“I should’ve brought you flowers,” he murmured, as if speaking to himself.

“Flowers?” you asked, your tone soft but filled with curiosity.

Remus opened his eyes and leaned back slightly, the blush staining his face again. “It’s... it’s Valentine’s Day, after all. And I—well, I wanted it to be special. Because, if we’re going to date...” He paused, as if wondering if he had said too much.

“Date?” The word danced on your lips, and you saw his blush deepen.

“I—um. I mean. Only if you want to, of course,” Remus quickly continued, his fingers moving nervously over yours. “But I really... really want that.”

The tenderness you felt was almost overwhelming. You held his fingers, intertwining them again, and gave a gentle squeeze.

“Remus,” you said, and he finally looked at you. “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”

The smile that appeared on his lips was small but filled with a happiness that made your heart flutter.

He lowered his gaze to your hands, as if trying to absorb everything that had just happened. “Still,” he murmured. “I wish I’d done everything right. Flowers. Maybe a proper dinner.”

You let out a soft laugh and, on impulse, leaned in to place a light kiss on the corner of his mouth. “You already did everything right.”

Remus smiled, the warmth in his eyes brighter than any bouquet could be. He leaned a little closer, and for a moment it seemed like he was about to kiss you again, but something made him pause.

“I’m not dreaming, right?” he asked, his voice so soft it seemed almost afraid of the answer.

“No. This isn’t a dream.”

He took a deep breath, as if storing the moment deep in his soul. Then, with a simple and sweet gesture, Remus wrapped an arm around you, gently pulling you close.

“So, our first date was at a café,” he said with a mischievous smile. “Is there anything more romantic than a 50% discount?”

“Classic romance,” you agreed, laughing

#remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x reader #fanfiction #writers on tumblr #romance #fluffy #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin fanfiction #remus john lupin #remus j lupin #muggle au #friends to lovers #valentines day #reader insert

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ultramaga · 2 days ago

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I might have watched that one but I don't remember it. Abba was uncool and something that was sort of listened to secretly for quite a while. I actually studied it a bit in school, it was interesting to see a technical analysis. I always thought of pop music as sort of empty fluff so it was interesting to see there was so much more to them. Super Trouper was where they came back and were sort of serious. It was an album about divorce, disillusionment, and how being famous and wealthy didn't stop you being miserable when things went bad.

[Verse 1: Agnetha Fältskog] I don't wanna talk about things we've gone through Though it's hurting me, now it's history I've played all my cards And that's what you've done, too Nothing more to say, no more ace to play

[Chorus: Agnetha Fältskog] The winner takes it all The loser standing small Beside the victory That's her destiny.

Having the band sing about the breakdown of a marriage within the group is really heartbreaking and it amazes me that they still were friends afterwards.

[Verse 3: Agnetha Fältskog] But tell me, does she kiss like I used to kiss you? Does it feel the same when she calls your name? Somewhere deep inside, you must know I miss you But what can I say? Rules must be obeyed.

youtube

So this band was sort of a marriage - the honeymoon, years of happiness - and then heartbreak and resignation. They went from barely speaking English to producing lyrics with quite a bit of weight. I wish I could have gone back in time when I was a teenager, and seen them here in their tour, at their peak.

Yeah, I still can't look at Agnetha without needing a cold shower afterwards.

I wouldn't have enjoyed that Sydney gig! "Contrary to the reports that Frida was unhurt by her fall during an energetic performance of 'Waterloo', it actually resulted in a contusion of her hip and 2 sprained fingers ! You would never have known that she was injured however, she was so professional.

Frida said: "The rainstorm came out of nowhere. But the audience were clearly going to stay whatever the weather to see us. So, in those circumstances, we were definitely going ahead with our show. The tumble shook me up, but that's all. It was a small price to pay when the fans were showing such a great loyality". "

Oh, for a brush of her fingers. I just realised that if it was held today, the media would have probably called it a Nazi rally. All those whites - and look at their arms! Gasp!

youtube

(*faints*)

ABBA appears on the The Don Lane Show on Australian TV in 1976.

#abba #Youtube

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katyaromanoffpetrova · 2 days ago

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A deceitful Valentine's

It's Valentine's Day and Natasha is on a mission. Katya won't let the day pass by without seeing her.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova) • Wordcount: 1.9k • Warnings: sexual talk (they're horny lesbians) •A/N: not proofread because it's 1AM and i'm tired :) Masterlist

Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!!

''No, I'm not helping you so you can fuck each other's brains out in a hotel room. Or whatever it is that you lesbians do.''

''Wow,'' Katya breathed, an amused smile lingering on her lips as she watched her appalled friend shake his head. ''I thought you were a romantic.''

''Me?'' Clint scoffed, shuffling through the papers on his messy desk. He hadn't been able to look at her since she asked her question, a red tint on his cheeks. Obviously, it made him uncomfortable. Katya loved making men uncomfortable. ''Valentine's Day is a ridiculous product of capitalism, created to make us spend more money on things we don't need.''

Katya hummed knowingly, placing her hands on his desk. ''Is that why you bought Laura that perfume she's been obsessed with for months? And, oh, what is this?'' With a smirk, she plucked a Valentine's card from underneath a stack of papers on his desk.

Swift like a cobra, Clint snatched it from her hand before she could open it. His cheeks burned as he stashed the red and pink paper deep in a desk drawer, slamming it shut loudly. ''You Russian dickheads need to stay out of my business,'' he grumbled. Natasha had been sitting next to him when he ordered that perfume, and while he thought he'd been sneaky, obviously she saw. And then told Katya.

The brunette had to fight off a malicious laugh, in the depths of her element. ''Hm… Natalia will be thrilled to hear about that card.'' She tilted her head, pursing her lips as she pretended to think hard. ''What did it read on the front, again? 'A man like me has a lot to be thankful for'?''

''Okay, okay!'' Clint looked like he was about to scream in frustration, slamming the papers in his hands down. He knew she was completely serious in her threats—she would tell Natasha. But Katya could keep a secret if he helped her out. ''Fine, I'll help with your plan.'' He pointed a warning finger at her. ''But if I face serious consequences because I tempered with an agent's mission, it's your responsibility.''

''Absolutely.'' Katya nodded sternly, her eyebrows knitted together. ''I'll tell them I blackmailed you with a Valentine's Day card.''

Spotting the amused glint in her eyes, Clint shook his head with exasperation. One of these days, either Katya or Natasha was going to cause him a mental breakdown because they were just so good at emotional manipulation. ''You need serious help,'' he muttered, grabbing his laptop.

~~~~

The hotel bar wasn't too busy. Most people were still enjoying their late dinner or were spending the evening with their lover, holed up in a bedroom. Natasha had seen enough of them today; couples. It's the one day of the year where people suddenly seem to remember to show affection to their partners. Dinners, movies, gifts—they were all talking about the same things, all day.

She didn't really care about Valentine's Day as a holiday. Sure, she and Katya bought a little something for each other, and tried to do something together if they got the chance to—not including the evening sex, of course—but she did it because it made Katya happy. Natasha was a moreso a believer of showing her appreciation all year 'round. Leaving a sweet note, taking her out for dinner, planning a movie night with snacks, running Katya a bath, giving her a massage.

But Natasha would be lying if she said that she didn't miss her a little more today. This mission had been dragging on for three weeks. And while she had hoped to be home tonight, she was sitting in a five star hotel's fancy bar, all dressed up, sipping on her Dirty Martini, because Clint had given her new intel. Seducing a man, of all things, when she had a sexy, attractive woman waiting for her at home, must be the universe's type of karma.

Lazily, she stirred her drink, seeing the bartender move around in her peripheral vision. The stools beside her were empty, the atmosphere calm; soft, classical music playing in the background. It was boring. Clint didn't say what time her target's ''business associate'' would arrive. She could be sitting there for hours. Her mind wasn't as focused as it should be, her thoughts drifting away from her.

It took her a moment too long to realize that somebody was sitting down on her left, gracefully settling down on the high stool with a quiet rustle. There was a flash of red silk, and then a whiff of a deep, sensual perfume.

Natasha stiffened, her body already knowing what her mind didn't want to believe yet. Slowly, from the corner of her eye, she looked her neighbor up and down, her gaze lingering on their chest and exposed neck. It was the most elegant, exquisite picture she'd ever seen, the red silk dress draping around her figure like liquid. Most of her back was exposed, a decent amount of cleavage showing while the fabric ran all the way to her ankles in loose waves, accentuating the curves Natasha could draw with her eyes closed.

This was the type of woman men used to go to war for.

Natasha's heart started to race in her chest. "Fuck," she muttered under her breath as she averted her eyes forward again, fighting to keep her cool. Preferably, she'd rip that dress off her body right here, right now, but she had a mission to run. Although she was starting to get an inkling that she might have been misled. "You're not supposed to be here."

"Would you like something to drink, ma'am?" The bartender had materialized in front of them.

Katya smiled charmingly and placed her clutch on the bar. "A Vodka-Martini, please."

''Coming right up.''

Natasha followed the man with her eyes as he walked off to make her order. Next to her, Katya casually touched up her lipstick. Fuck, it was her favorite. "I'm assuming there's no "business associate" I'm meeting tonight?"

"I thought you'd rather have me instead,'' Katya said, tapping at her lip with her ring finger. Her complete lack of fucks given about interrupting her mission and using Clint to lure her here with a lie was both annoying and amusing. Natasha wanted to be more pissed, but in reality, she was really happy to see her.

"You're not wrong, but I am supposed to be on duty around the clock."

"Screw the mission,'' Katya declared, tossing her lipstick and mirror back in her clutch before turning to face her girlfriend. She tilted her head, a smile on her perfectly kissable lips. ''It's Valentine's Day. We're not supposed to be apart."

Part of Natasha's brain wasn't working correctly. Katya's alluring appearance had hypnotized her. She wasn't sure if she wanted to sculpt her beauty into marble for all eternity to see, or worship her body all night until it was covered in drops of sweat. "So you sabotaged my mission because you missed me too much?" She smirked, finally giving in and turning her body in Katya's direction.

The brunette shrugged, something mischievous flashing across her face. "Maybe I'm just incredibly horny."

Caught off guard by her bold statement, Natasha nearly lost her composure. "Are you?" She mused, ignoring the twitch low in her stomach.

Instead of answering, Katya smirked confidently. "Are you?"

"Definitely." She couldn't lie—or joke—about the impact Katya had on her, her teasing demeanor fading into an intense, lustful one as she took the time to take in Katya's appearance once more. "You look fucking incredible," she muttered, noting how Katya shifted on her stool at the desire in her voice.

In that dress, she was an expensive, rich wine from France and Natasha was the alcoholic who hadn't had a drop in three weeks. It took every ounce of self-control to stay seated. Her throat was dry, her hands were itching.

Reluctantly tearing her gaze away, Natasha reached for her drink and took a big sip. It didn't fix her burning throat, but the sensation brought her back to Earth. "Maybe I should leave more often so you can interrupt my missions looking like this," she joked.

Katya chuckled, slowly circling the rim of her Martini glass with her finger. "Or, you can take me out to dinner sometime, give me a reason to dress up." Her gaze met Natasha's. "Maybe to one of those posh restaurants where I would actually have to wear underwear to."

Natasha's fingers tightened around her glass, her wide eyes flickering to Katya's hips. "Baby…" Katya had prepared for this night to end one way, and with how she was working her up, Natasha knew it was going to be good. She smiled to herself, excitement flooding her veins. "I'm gonna buy Clint such a big bottle of Vodka when I get back."

"I don't think he's gonna be able to look at us for a while. It's pretty obvious what I was planning when I asked him to help us meet up. At night. In a hotel."

"Oh, yeah?" Natasha smirked.

Katya raised an eyebrow. "If I'm still able to walk out of here by myself tomorrow, I'm gonna make you pay for this dress."

Natasha chuckled, reaching out and slowly trailing her fingertips up Katya's arm. They left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "How about this: I ruin your pretty makeup, your ability to walk, and I pay for the dress?"

"That better be a promise." Katya's lips held a daring smirk, her body still as Natasha's fingers had reached her collarbone. "My mascara is waterproof."

"Do you doubt me?" Natasha asked, her hand ghosting over Katya's throat. A shiver ran through the brunette's body as her pupils dilated.

"I know you like to talk big."

Natasha pulled her hand away to place it over her heart. "Katariina, you're breaking my heart."

"I didn't know you had one to break," Katya mused.

"It's a little messed up, but it's yours."

Between all the flirting and sexual tension, this half-hearted, soft joke came out of nowhere. Katya had to take a second to switch around. "Where did you learn to sweet-talk like that?''

Natasha shrugged, turning away to take another sip of her drink. ''A place where I met this girl.''

Katya's smile turned knowingly, warmth swirling in her chest. She loved it whenever Natasha spoke about falling in love with her. ''There's always a girl."

''This one was special. She cared. And nobody had ever cared about me." Their eyes met. Natasha's started to sparkle with a amusement. "Oh, and she had the most beautiful blue eyes.''

Katya fought the urge to roll them. ''She sounds nice.''

''She's more than just nice." Placing a hand on her thigh, Natasha leaned in more with every word, until their faces were only inches apart. Her breath fanned over Katya's chin. "She's brave, and kind, and stunning, and so incredibly smart…''

A low hum fell from Katya's lips, her gaze flickering from the redhead's mouth to her eyes. Her heart raced in her chest. ''You're trying to get in my pants.''

''I thought you weren't wearing any.''

Katya smiled amusedly, her thigh tensing up when Natasha's hand started to creep higher. This was exactly how she hoped this night would go. ''So, how did things end with that girl?''

Her breath hitched when she caught the look on Natasha's face. So lustful. If all of that was going to be released tonight, then her girlfriend would for sure make good on her promise.

Katya's stomach swirled heavy with anticipation as Natasha brought her mouth to her ear. ''With her underneath me, naked, in a hotel room, her pretty dress on the floor, screaming my name as I make her cum for the sixth time in one night.''

And then they have bed-breaking, wall-shaking, earth-shattering sex

A/N: Please consider reblogging if you liked this fic. It really helps me :)

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #black widow #natasha romanoff oneshot #wlw #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfic #marvel fic

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hello-gloomy · 3 days ago

Note

Hello!!! Thank you for your amazing writing so far!!!

I hope if its no trouble could you please do a Xeno Houston Wingfield x reader scenario where the reader is captured at the same time as Gen (by Stanley ofc). And then Xeno kind of like falls for her because she also majors in rockets and space...or something. Feel free to ignore or change it up!

Thank you in advance!!

I love this sm, hope you like it and it's not to crack filled.

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Black Magic

Dr. Xeno H. x Fem!Reader

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Description: Being the only American in the Kingdom of Science comes in handy when you finally make the trip to America; being a fellow scientist also helps a little too well, though.

Warnings: Mild violence, touching, the reader is said to be American, maybe a bit creepy Xeno, Sarcasm, and cursing. Maybe OOC. SPOILERS FOR THE ANIME S4.

A/N: I hope Anon enjoys this; I also couldn't help but make the reader an agent of chaos. The opportunity was too good to pass up. I hope this isn't too OOC for you guys

Words: 1,300

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The only time being American came in handy while in Japan during the petrification was when you were in the Stone World, and Senku wanted to return to America, which meant you were stuck as an encyclopedia for everyone else. When the kingdom reached Texas, you already knew something was off; it was too easy.

"ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!" Were the first words out your mouth while you and everyone else were running from being shot at. While you were happy that you weren't the only ones who had progressed this far with science, you hated how American this situation was. They were firing on a bunch of randoms on their land that they hadn't seen before, very Texas; at least they didn't leave behind their amendments. After your group had made off with the plane, you were stuck with the scouting group being the only one in their natural element. When Gen had noticed how easy it was to track your attacker, he volunteered to go and find him himself. You wouldn't let him off so quickly, so you followed him just in case.

"We gonna get shot at again," You mused to Gen with a smirk, earning a disapproving look from him. When you finally stumbled upon your attacker, who promptly aimed his gun at you both, you couldn't help but burst into laughter, much to Gen's dismay. As he negotiated for your lives, the blonde with the purple lipstick instructed you to follow him to his colony while sneaking glances in your direction. You had to guess it was due to your clothing; it was more native to your home country than the one you had been staying in for so long. Gen was looking around, amazed at everything but still keeping a poker face; you, on the other hand, were dismissive of the entire operation. It was obvious that they had a smaller group than yours and hadn't found out how to un-petrify anyone yet. When you arrived at what you could tell was a lab, you were finally shown the mastermind behind this whole thing. When he turned to face you and Gen, your eyes and mouth reacted faster than your self-preservation skills.

"You're that fucking Scientist from those NASA articles!" All three men looked over at you, which made your cheeks heat at all the eyes on you.

"How elegant; it brings me pleasure to know that achievements in the old world reached multiple ends of the planet." While Stanley, as you've come to find out from one Dr. Xeno, is hooking up Gen to what you can tell is a fantastic stone world lie detector, he chats it up with you, asking where you are from, how long you've been awake, what your previous occupation was; you can't help but answer him excitedly. For someone your age and with the same or higher level of intelligence as you, it was a truly invigorating experience.

"Please stop telling the enemyyay information about us." Gen pleaded with you; he had a plan, so you did decide to be a little less loose-lipped, but you still did want to talk to the doctor while you loved talking to Senku; he was still a little too young for you, while Dr. Xeno was much older and on your level emotionally speaking in a sense.

"Relax. They're just a bunch of goths."

"Can you take this erioussay!" Gen was practically begging at this point, so you backed off and went to stand by the gunslinger instead. The Dr. went to go and question Gen, and he, in turn, worked his magic to get you both on the inside. When he called Taiju a doctor, you had to steel your face so hard not to cringe at his choice of fake leaders for your group. You saw Stanley looking at you from the corner of his eyes.

"Man, Dr. Xeno must really like you." You start while glancing at his lips; he raises his brow, signaling for you to go forward with your statements about the two of them.

"Purple is a pretty difficult color to make; in ancient times, they used snails to get that color. But while doing that, the species of snail they were using were becoming less common, making it a color only used for the aristocracy." Stanley let out a huff and shook his head.

"God, your just as bad as him with this science shit." He jested, and you screwed up your face. Gen walked over to where the two of you stood along the wall and hit you in the arm. You gave him a half-hearted 'ow' while rubbing your arm.

"You can take Gen and introduce him to everyone else." Stanley nodded while Gen started to splutter reasons for you to accompany him. You waved your hand, signaling you would be fine.

"Relax, Doctor Frankenstein won't kill me." You direct to Gen. While smiling at the X-marked doctor before you, you see his lips twitch, making you smile even more significantly. Gen spares you one last glance before walking along quietly. He offers you a seat, and you take it with a small 'thank you' before taking it.

"Coffee?" he offers, and you practically moan out a yes at the thought of caffeine touching your taste buds. He brings over two mugs before pulling up a seat beside you, watching as you take your first sip and practically crying tears of joy at the taste.

"Make me a monster, and I might marry you." He huffs a little laugh.

"I will get on that for you, " he tells you while taking his own sip. He asks you how long you've been out of the stone; you hold eye contact while weighing the pros and cons of answering him. You decide to give him the time, and he nods in understanding. He also rewards you for your honesty, telling you the timeline of how long he's been out.

"It seems your technology is not too far behind ours."

"We would be farther if we weren't too busy fighting amongst ourselves." You tell him with mild exasperation, mumbling about teenagers and their angstyness.

"Why not join my group?" He offers while grasping your face and staring into your eyes intensely; those black voids make you pause.

"It would be nice to have a headstart on having more intelligence in this new world." He tells you while rubbing a clawed thumb along your face; you feel your heart move to your throat at his implication, his thoughts similar to Tsukasa's in the beginning. It made your stomach twist; you knew Senku's idea of reviving the entirety of humanity was the dream of a naive child; being a couple years his senior, you knew the reality of your situation from the start, so you decided to let Senku have his hope for the future even starting to believe it after a few years. The second you saw the shores of America is when you were brought off of the childish dream you let yourself fall into.

"There's only so many smart people in the world, you know." He chuckles quietly at your statement, moving to brush hair out of your face instead. He moves to bring out some supplies, and you lean over his shoulder in interest. Your eyes widen in recognition at what he brought out in front of you: supplies for makeup.

"Yes, and I happened to have found one of them, " he tells you, letting you make a few makeup products while he watches. He could convince you to join him and see things through his eyes; he would ensure it and never let someone with such potential slip through his claws—not now, not ever.

#x reader #fanfic #dr. stone #dr xeno #dr stone #dr stone x reader #dr stone x you #dr stone xeno #xeno houston x reader #dr xeno x reader #xeno x reader #xeno houston wingfield #dr stone stanley #dr stone gen #asagiri gen #gen asagiri #female reader

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caitlynssweetheart · 2 days ago

Text

002. SEVEN YEARS OF SILENCE〃✦ ┆ E.W

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

PART ONE

ꔫ PARING: childhood friends ellie x reader

ꔫ WORDCOUNT: 1750

ꔫAN: Had to put two parts together for this one but as always hope you guys enjoy it and happy valentines day!!

ꔫ WARNING: angst, religous guilt (i think thats it)

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

Hours passed as you monitored Ellie's condition. The initial crisis had passed, but she remained unconscious. You found yourself checking her vitals more frequently than necessary, using each moment to study the face you'd forced yourself to forget. The guilt that had been your constant companion for years felt heavier now, more tangible in her physical presence. When your shift finally ended, you couldn't bring yourself to leave. Instead, you sat in the uncomfortable chair beside her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. The rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor became a soundtrack to your thoughts, each beat reminding you of time wasted, of words unsaid.

Your colleagues gave you questioning looks, but you brushed them off with professional explanations about monitoring a critical patient. You couldn't tell them that this was Ellie, that she was once the person who knew all your secrets, who made you feel seen in a world where you were constantly hiding. As dawn approached, her eyelids began to flutter. Your breath caught in your throat as you waited, torn between the desire to be there when she woke up and the urge to run away again. But this time, you stayed. You owed her that much, at least.

When Ellie's eyes finally opened, they were clouded with confusion. She blinked several times, adjusting to the harsh hospital lighting. Your heart raced as her gaze slowly focused, then widened with recognition. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of years of silence hanging between you.

The silence stretched taut between you, filled with unspoken apologies and years of missed chances. You could see the questions forming on her lips, the way her fingers twisted nervously in the hospital blanket. The familiar gesture transported you back to countless late-night conversations, when she would gather her courage before sharing something important.

Her voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. "Is this real, or am I having one of those dreams again?" The words 'one of those dreams again' echoed in your mind, making your chest tighten. You leaned forward slightly, maintaining a professional distance despite every instinct urging you to move closer. "You're in the hospital," you explained, your voice steadier than you felt. "There was a car accident. You've been unconscious for several hours." Ellie's eyes never left your face as she processed this information.

Then, unexpectedly, she let out a weak laugh that turned into a grimace of pain. "Of course," she muttered. "Of course it would take something like this to see you again." The bitterness in her voice made you flinch. You deserved it, you knew you did, but it still hurt. You busied yourself checking her vitals, using the familiar routine as a shield against the emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "I should get the attending physician," you said, starting to stand. But Ellie's hand shot out, catching your wrist with surprising strength. "Don't," she said, her voice stronger now. "Don't run away again. Not yet.” You sank back into your chair, her touch burning against your skin like a brand. The monitor beside her bed betrayed the quickening of her heart rate, matching the frantic rhythm of your own. "I'm sorry," you whispered, the words feeling inadequate after all this time. "I was... I was scared." Ellie's grip on your wrist loosened but didn't let go. "Of what? Me? Or yourself?" The question hung in the air between you, demanding an answer you weren't sure you were ready to give. But looking at her now, pale and vulnerable in the hospital bed, you realized you'd spent too many years running from the truth.

"I..." you started, but before you could finally voice the truth that had been trapped inside you for so long, the door swung open with a soft whoosh.

Her doctor strode in, his white coat pristine and his expression professionally neutral as he glanced between you and Ellie, noting your positions with a raised eyebrow. "Ah, you're awake, Ms..." he consulted the chart, "Ms. Williams. I'm Dr. Thompson. I see our resident has been monitoring you closely."

You quickly withdrew your wrist from Ellie's grasp, standing up and smoothing your scrubs. The moment shattered like delicate glass, leaving behind a thousand sharp edges of unspoken words.

"I was just completing my final checks," you said, your professional mask sliding back into place, though your voice wavered slightly. "I'll leave you to examine the patient."

As you moved toward the door, you caught Ellie's eyes one last time. They held the same mixture of hurt and longing that had haunted your dreams for years.

Your shift had ended hours ago, but leaving felt impossible now. The weight of unfinished conversations and renewed possibilities anchored you to the hospital. Still, exhaustion tugged at your edges, and you knew you needed rest to face whatever tomorrow would bring. With heavy steps, you made your way to the locker room to change, your mind replaying every moment of your encounter with Ellie. The drive home loomed ahead, but you wondered if sleep would come at all with so many words still caught in your throat.

Days passed like a blur after that night. You threw yourself into your work, picking up extra shifts in different departments to avoid the fifth floor where Ellie was recovering. Your colleagues noticed the change in you, the dark circles under your eyes deepening, but you brushed off their concerns with practiced smiles and vague excuses. But you couldn't avoid her for any longer, since no one ever wants to change to work the night shift. You were faced again with dread knowing that the next night you’d have to see her again.

As you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, memories of her voice, her laugh, and that final look in her eyes kept cycling through your mind. You checked your phone compulsively, though you knew there would be no messages - you hadn't even exchanged numbers.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

When you finally arrived for your night shift, your footsteps echoed hollowly through the hospital corridors. Each step closer to her room felt like walking through quicksand, your chest tightening with every meter. You'd changed your route about three times, taking longer paths to avoid passing her door, but eventually, duty called you there anyway.

The sight of her empty bed hit you like a physical blow. The sheets were pristine, tucked with hospital corners, no trace of her remaining. Your throat closed up as panic clawed its way through your chest. Had something happened? Had she been discharged? Had you lost her again without even getting the chance to—

"Looking for someone?" Her voice came from behind you, making you spin around so quickly you nearly lost your balance. Ellie stood in the doorway, one hand gripping an IV pole, the other pressed against the door frame for support. She looked stronger than yesterday, but the shadows under her eyes matched your own.

"You shouldn't be up," you managed to say, your professional tone betraying none of the turmoil beneath. "The accident—"

"Don't," she cut you off, her voice sharp. "Don't pretend this is just about medical concern. Seven years y/n. Seven years of silence, and now you want to hide behind your scrubs and pretend we're nothing more than doctor and patient?"

The use of your name sent a shiver down your spine. It sounded both foreign and achingly familiar on her lips. You took an involuntary step backward, your back hitting the edge of the medical cart. "Ellie, I—"

The monitor beside her beeped faster, matching her rising anger. She pushed herself up despite the pain, her knuckles white against the hospital sheets.

"You know what's funny?" she continued, her voice trembling. "I waited. For months, I waited for you to call, to explain, to give me any fucking reason why my best friend suddenly decided I wasn't worth knowing anymore. Joel kept telling me to let it go, but I couldn't. I couldn't understand how someone who promised to always be there could just... disappear."

Each word was a knife, cutting deeper than the last. You wanted to tell her it wasn't her fault, that you'd been drowning in your own fears, your own inadequacies. That leaving her was the hardest thing you'd ever done, and you'd regretted it every day since. But the words stuck in your throat, just like they had seven years ago.

"I thought I was over it," she whispered, her grip on the IV pole tightening until her knuckles went white. "I thought I was over you. But seeing you yesterday... God, it's like no time has passed at all. I still—" She stopped abruptly, swaying slightly.

You moved forward instinctively to steady her, your hands hovering near her shoulders without touching. The space between you crackled with tension, with all the things left unsaid. Her breathing was slightly labored, and you knew you should insist she return to bed, but you couldn't bear to break this moment, as painful as it was.

"I never stopped thinking about you," you finally admitted, your voice barely audible over the hum of hospital equipment. "Not for a single day."

Ellie's laugh was bitter, wet with unshed tears. "That makes it worse, doesn't it? That you thought about me but still chose to stay away. That you cared enough to remember but not enough to write. And now here you are," she laughed, but it was a hollow sound that made your chest ache. "Playing doctor in your pristine white coat, probably living that perfect life your parents always wanted for you. Was it worth it? Was losing everything we had worth making mommy and daddy proud?"

Blood began seeping through the bandage on her forehead, but she didn't seem to notice or care. Her breathing was ragged, each word seeming to cost her something vital.

"I needed you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "When everything went to shit, when I lost everyone else, I needed my best friend. But you were too busy becoming exactly what they wanted you to be."

The monitor's beeping reached a crescendo, and you instinctively moved toward her. She recoiled.

"Don't," she warned, tears finally spilling over. "Don't you dare try to fix this now. You lost that right a long time ago."

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶

taglist: @liasxeatt@chaengluva@junipertried@bready101@pornoangelz@xeneasworld@ellensmithxo@xxannyxx@lovelookspretty@vahnilla@lina222eidolonl@fairylesbean@rxreaqia@feralshaunalvr@minnimoon@ilovewomen4lot@iheartclairo66@abbyswh0r3@mxquelo@kaykeryyy@badbye777@mimasroom2 @dollinrehab @0phantom0 @t0x1cw4st3-x3 @sevyscoven @casualdeathxx @ellieslittleslutt

(some i couldn’t tag sorry)

#lesbian #princess 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔. ˚. ᵎᵎ🪷#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams tlou #tlou #tlou part 2 #ellie williams angst #ellie willams #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #sapphic #wlw post

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goldfades · 1 day ago

Note

i need to be sidney crosbys controversially young gf… maybe something for that… heh

my new fav concept, hope you enjoy!

It started with whispers.

The kind that curled around the edges of locker rooms and crept into post-game interviews, barely concealed behind tight-lipped smirks and knowing glances. The kind that made headlines in tabloids next to blurry photos of a dinner reservation that should have been private. The kind that weren’t unexpected, not when a 37-year-old hockey legend started dating a 21-year-old who had no business being in his world.

Sidney Crosby was used to the noise. He’d spent two decades as the face of a franchise, his every move dissected and debated. But this? This was different. This was personal.

And you—well, you were the subject of speculation, fascination, and, in some corners, outright disapproval. The girl too young, too fresh, too much of a contrast to the quiet, calculated, carefully managed existence Sidney had built. The age gap was undeniable, a 16-year stretch that gave people ammunition, as if they hadn’t already decided what they thought about you.

It didn’t help that you weren’t some seasoned socialite or a familiar name in hockey circles. You weren’t a sports reporter or a PR darling, not a longtime fixture at games. No, you were something worse in the eyes of his critics—young, new, and entirely yours.

They didn’t know about the late-night conversations, the ones where Sidney’s usual reserve cracked open just enough for you to slip inside. They didn’t see the way he softened when you spoke, or how he looked at you like he was trying to memorize every version of you—the excited, the sleepy, the frustrated, the amused.

They didn’t know that you never sought him out, that he was the one who lingered after your first meeting, the one who texted first, the one who—despite all logic, despite knowing exactly what kind of reaction this would spark—had made it clear he wanted you.

But they knew enough to talk.

"She’s barely old enough to drink."

"What could they possibly have in common?"

"Sid’s having a mid-life crisis."

The comments should have been easy to ignore. Sidney wasn’t the type to entertain gossip, and you’d never cared about the opinions of people who didn’t know you. But still, the weight of it settled into your bones some days, making you wonder if you were an anomaly in his otherwise perfectly controlled life.

Because he was Sidney Crosby—captain, legend, a man whose legacy had been cemented long before you were even in high school. And you? You were just the girl people assumed was temporary.

And maybe that’s what made it all the more exhilarating.

The funniest part? You and Sidney actually found the whole thing hilarious.

The first time you showed him a comment under some sports gossip post—"She’s basically a child. This is so embarrassing for him."—he just blinked at you, unimpressed.

"Didn’t realize I should be embarrassed for enjoying my life," he said dryly, barely looking up from his coffee.

You snorted. "Yeah, well, you should probably start wearing knee braces to dinner so people know how frail you are."

From then on, it became a running joke.

Like when you posted a dimly lit photo of your hand wrapped around a wine glass at a fancy steakhouse, the edge of Sidney’s plate barely in frame, and captioned it: Dinner with my old man 🤍

Or when you caught a candid of him rubbing his temple after a long day and added it to your Instagram story with the text: He’s got a headache from all the whippersnappers in his life.

Or, your personal favorite, when you recorded him tying his skates before practice, zoomed in on his face as he focused, and added: D1 Grandpa Energy.

The chirps were constant, and he took them all in stride. In fact, he played along—leaned into it, even.

"Think I should start stretching before we go out?" he mused one evening as you got ready for dinner. "Maybe bring a heating pad?"

You grinned at him in the mirror. "I already put Icy Hot in your bag. Just in case you pull something walking to the table."

He rolled his eyes, but you caught the twitch of his lips.

Despite the internet losing its collective mind, the reality of your relationship was effortless. Sidney was steady, calm, and deeply private. You, on the other hand, were unbothered, playful, and just reckless enough to make things interesting. You balanced each other out in a way that worked, even if people didn’t understand it.

You loved how Sidney never treated you like you were some silly, naive kid. He respected you—your thoughts, your humor, your way of seeing the world. And you, in turn, loved teasing the hell out of him, keeping him on his toes in a way no one else really dared.

Like the time you went with him to a team dinner, and while everyone was talking hockey, you casually turned to him and went, "Tell me again what it was like growing up without color TV?"

The table went silent for a beat before someone—probably Letang—burst out laughing. Sid just gave you that look, equal parts unimpressed and amused, before shaking his head.

"She’s funny, huh?" he muttered, reaching for his drink.

"A regular comedian," you quipped, clinking your glass against his.

That was the thing—no matter how much outside noise tried to define your relationship, the two of you had already decided what it was.

It was simple. You liked each other.

Sidney didn’t buy you expensive things to impress you. Sure, he could, but he knew that wasn’t why you were here. Instead, he showed up in little ways—the way he always made sure to order your fries extra crispy because that’s how you liked them, or how he’d automatically pull you closer when cameras were around, just to make sure you didn’t get overwhelmed.

And you? You made sure he laughed. Really laughed. The kind of laugh that shook his shoulders and made his eyes crinkle, the kind of laugh he rarely let people see.

You were good together. You fit, even if people couldn’t wrap their heads around it.

And honestly? That just made it more fun.

It was nearly midnight, and the two of you were on the couch, deep in a heated argument over absolutely nothing.

"I'm just saying, people who don’t let the cereal sit in the milk for at least thirty seconds before eating it are a danger to society," you declared, pointing your spoon at him.

Sidney, reclined against the cushions in his sweatpants and a faded Team Canada hoodie, exhaled through his nose, unimpressed. "That’s ridiculous. You want it soggy?"

"Not soggy, perfectly saturated," you corrected, scooping another spoonful of Cinnamon Toast Crunch from your bowl. "It enhances the experience."

Sid shook his head, glancing down at his own bowl—practically dry because, of course, he barely let the milk touch his cereal before shoveling it into his mouth like some kind of barbarian. "There’s no way you actually believe this."

"I do," you said, dramatic as ever, settling further into your spot next to him. "This is a hill I will die on."

Sid sighed, took another bite, and then, without missing a beat, shot back, "Guess you’d better hope I go first then."

You gasped, shoving his shoulder. "Did you just—"

He fought back a smirk, chewing methodically like he didn’t just say something that made your jaw drop. "You’re too young to be making retirement home decisions, anyway," he added, extra casual.

"Wow," you scoffed, setting your bowl down. "Big words for someone whose lower back cracks every time he stands up."

He snorted, finally breaking into that slow, warm smile that made your stomach flip.

It was moments like this that made you realize why, despite the comments and the noise, this relationship worked.

You weren’t intimidated by him. Not by his reputation, not by the weight of who he was. You poked fun at the untouchable Sidney Crosby the way most people wouldn’t dare, but you never disrespected him. You met him as a person, not as a legacy.

And Sid—Sid liked that.

He liked how quick you were, how you made fun of him without ever making him feel small. How you never treated him like some god on skates but also never downplayed how much he meant to people. It was a balance no one had quite figured out before you.

He let out a deep breath, stretching his arm along the back of the couch, his fingers absentmindedly toying with the ends of your hair.

"You done bullying me for the night?" he asked, amused.

You hummed, considering. "Depends. You gonna admit my cereal method is better?"

"Absolutely not."

"Then no."

He chuckled, shaking his head before wrapping an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. You melted into his side like it was second nature, warm and easy.

The whole world could talk. The whole world could speculate. But in here, in this quiet moment between bowls of cereal and bad jokes, you fit like you were always meant to.

#sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby #sidney crosby smut #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby fic #sidney crobsy #sidney crosby imagines #sidney crosby fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl #hockey #nhl fanfiction #nhl oneshot #hockey fic #nhl imagines

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water-to-drink · 2 days ago

Text

Chocolates Galore!

(Characters): All the characters (except the little kids)

(Synopsis): Valentine’s Day has arrived and the academy’s most influential students are antsy to give that special someone their gifts. Some are also anxious to know who you got chocolate for

(Tags/Warnings): Use of (n/n) and (name), gn!reader, foul language, dialogue heavy, school au, gave Natlan characters poc features (smth hoyo was too pussy to do), one Cyno joke (reader laughs at it), bit rushed,

(Word Count): 7.6k

(A/n): I tried to include everyone in this, and sorry if it feels rushed

“Valentine’s day is almost here.” You absentmindedly said

“Why are you preoccupied with such a frivolous holiday?” Kuni asked

“Don’t be so mean.” Kazhua said

“If I didn’t know any better I would say you have someone you want to give chocolate to, (n/n)~” Venti teased

“Yeah, I do.” You admitted

“What?!” Kuni shot up from his chair. “Who is the bastard?!”

“Well it’s actually-” You were cut off by the bell ringing. “Damn I gotta get back to class. Bye guys.” You packed your stuff up and left the classroom for yours

“My my my, our Kuni is jealous.” Heizou teased

“I’m not!”

“He definitely is.” Aether said

On the day in question you came into school with a big shopping bag, filled with what that’s only for you to know

Walking to your locker you open it up to see various boxes and baggies fall out

You look down to find around 15 gifts all addressed to you. Your initial thought was that it must be for someone who just so happened to have the first name as you, but you see your last name on some of them, maybe they are meant for you

You have been more social than before so it might be meant for you, as you were picking up the little gifts of chocolate you saw a pair of feet. You look up to see your friend

“Ayaka, hi!”

“I-I got you some chocolate!” The blue haired heiress extended her hands to show you, all the while turing her head away from you

“Oh thank you, I appreciate it-”

“It’s nothing! Please enjoy them!”

Ayaka ran away before you could ask her if she was doing alright, since her face was heavily red

Confused you didn’t notice two other people walk up to you

“Ahem!” You turned your head to see where the sound came from. “I hope I caught you before anyone else could.” The young semestres said as she handed you a small stuffed bear holding a heart

“I got you some kitty shaped chocolate, (N/n)!” Kirara said

“It’s so cute! Thank you, you two!”

“Of course it is, I made it myself. I’ll see you around.” Chiori waved goodbye and parted ways

“Bye (N/n)!” Kirara gave her farewell as she followed her friend

You look around to see that there’s too many eyes on you so you pick up your bags and walk away from your locker. You made your way to the 4th floor you hear something call your name, you look to see a familiar purple haired guy

“Here!” Kuni shoved a baggie of chocolate in your hands. “I know how much you like that sweet shit, so I got you some.”

“Aw, that’s so kind of you, Kuni!” You smiled at him

“Hey! Don’t get the wrong idea! I just had a bit of pocket money and decided to get you some! It’s friendship chocolate!” Kuni desperately explained as his face got redder

“But still you didn’t have to do it, the fact that you did shows that you’re a good guy.”

“I-I just remembered I had to do something!” Kuni stormed off leaving you confused

“Just ignore him, you know he’s emotionally constipated.” Heizou chuckled

You see the rest of the friend group with the exception of Aether walk up to you

“Hey guys!” You greeted with a wave and a closed eye smile, missing the look of fondness in the young men’s eyes. “What are you doing here, don’t y’all usually spend this time in the courtyard?”

“We have something important to do first.” Kazuha explained

The boys hold up baggies and boxes of chocolate, leaving you a bit stunned

“Wow guys, I don’t know what to say…” You finally managed to speak

“Don’t worry about it, just take it…” Xiao muttered out desperately trying to hide his red face

You accept the gifts and put them in your red bag, all the while making sure that the anemo boys don’t see the contents of the bag

“What’s in the bag, windblume?” Venti asked

“This?!” You hid the bag behind your back. “It’s a secret!”

Venti pouts and tries to snatch the bag from your hands but you’re faster in pulling it away from the young bard’s hands

“But I am curious about what’s in the bag?” Kazuha asked while rubbing his chin

“Or maybe it’s a mystery for us to uncover!” Heizou said excitedly

“It’s a secret till after school!” You blurted out. “Just wait after school and you’ll see…”

“My my, what do we have here?” You feel an arm drape over your shoulder, you look up to see the face of Kaeya

“Hi Kaeya.” You and the others said, completely unaware of the glares thrown at him

“Don’t sound too excited to see me, I’m hurt.”

“Just tell me what you’re doing here? You’re usually bothering your poor brother.”

“Well, I wanted to see y-”

“Hey (Name), how’s it’s going?” Sethos asked squeezing himself between you and who he would call “that whore”

“Sethos, hey! I was just talking to the anemo guys and Kaeya”

“I see…” Sethos said desperately trying to suppress a cringe from appearing on his face

“Oh and you still haven’t told me what you’re doing up here.”

“So mean! I just wanted to give my darling some chocolates.”

“I wonder how many people you told that line to.” You shot back as you accepted the little blue box of chocolates

“Well you’re the only one-”

“I also got you chocolates!” Sethos interjected

“Thanks Seth.” You said as you took the chocolate bar from the brunette

“It’s nothing, anything for my best friend.” Sethos eyed Kaeya as said the last part

“Listen you, overgrown shot of c-”

“Hello there, cutie.” Lisa greeted

“Lisa!” You ran toward Lisa

“Was I interrupting something?”

“No!” You said with a smile ignoring the tension between Kaeya and Sethos

“Well, if that’s the case, then I want to give you this.” Lisa said as she showed you a small purple box with a bow tied into a rose on the top

“Wow, Lisa. It’s so pretty I don’t know what to say.”

“You can thank me by giving me a kiss~”

“What?!” You and the boys shouted in unison. You felt heat rise up in your face and instantly lightheaded

“Just kidding!” Lisa giggled leaving out her thinking you looked so cute flustered.

“You had me worried their for a second there, Lisa.”

“Yeah, Lisa…” Xiao glared at the student librarian

The bell rings causing everyone to head to class

“Later guys!” You said as you began to head to class

“Bye (Name).” Your group of friends said goodbye

Class went by without any hiccups. Before you knew it the lesson came to a close and lunchtime came, as you were getting your things into your bag you noticed a couple of students walk up to your desk. You look up and saw members of the music club besides from Venti standing before you

“Here ya go bestie!” Xinyan said as she handed you a box of chocolate

“I got you chocolate.” Barbara said as she walked up to you and gave you a box that was prettily wrapped in white and blue wrapping paper

“I also got you some…” Yun Jin came up to you and held up a box that equally pretty as Barbara’s

“Aw your gifts are wrapped so beautifully, I almost don’t want to ruin them!” You said while putting the chocolate in your shopping bag. “I have something to do right now, but if you guys want to eat lunch then I’ll see if I can make it to the club room!”

You stood up and after waving goodbye to the music club you made your way out of the classroom

“Hey! (Name)!”

You turn around to see Amber and Yoimiya walking towards you

“I got you some chocolate!” Amber said as she handed you some bunny shaped chocolate

“Don’t forget about mine! I got you chocolates that feels like fireworks going off in your mouth!” Yoimiya said gesturing to her own mouth

“I can’t wait to try it. Thank you so much, you two!”

“Ohh, what’s in that bag?” Yoimiya asked

“Is it your Valentine’s Day gift?” Amber smiled

“Th-that’s a secret!” You answered

“Ohh…” You saw the two deflate

“But until after school!” You added

Amber and Yoimiya instantly became giddy and start whispering amongst themselves. You saw the opportunity to sneak off to do what you were originally going to do, when you made it down the stairs you saw a figure striking a pose in front of you

“I, Fischl, the Prinzessin der Verurteilung! Bestow upon you the finest confectioneries the Immernachtreich has to offer.”

“What she means is she made you some chocolate.” Oz, Fischl’s trusty raven explained to you

“Ohhh, thank you so much. It’s an honor to have a princess give me chocolate!”

You saw Fischl puff out her chest in confidence

“Mph! What’s better than a princess giving you chocolate when you can have a god give you some?”

You and Fischl turned your heads to be greeted with familiar pair of mix matched eyes

“I, Furina de Fontaine give you Fontaine’s finest of chocolate.” Furina handed you an expensive looking box of chocolate before turning towards Fischl and smirks. “And it’s probably much better than what the inner-nacht-reit has.”

“It’s the Immernachtreich! And for your information my homeworld has much better confectioneries than that of Fontaine.” Fischl spat out

“If it’s so great then why don’t you take all of us to there?” Furina questioned

“I, uhhh, I-” Fischl was at a lost for words

“That’s enough you two!!” You stepped in between the two girls. “There’s no point in being mean to each other and to each other’s homelands.”

You saw the two glance at each other before turning away, at least they stopped arguing. Before you could head down the stairs you saw the two girls holding up boxes of chocolate for you to take

“For you!” They both said in unison before side eyeing each other

“Aw, I’m honored to have treats by such high status individuals like you guys.”

You saw the two inflate with confidence, you put the chocolates in your shopping bag and as you were zipping up the bag you spotted a familiar face

“Arlecchino!” You greeted

You missed how Furina’s body turned rigid before she turned towards you

“Me and Princess Fischl have, uhh, business to attend to… bye!” Furina grabbed onto Fischl’s arm and dragged her away before the white haired woman could interact with her

“Hello (name).” Arlecchino said still a stoic expression on her face. “Happy Valentine’s Day. This is for you.”

The Knave gave you a surprisingly cute looking box of chocolate.

“This is so cute, thank you Arle!”

“It’s nothing, I do hope that you enjoy them.” She said before walking away from you leaving you alone in the hallway

You could’ve sworn you saw a slight smile on Arlecchino’s face, maybe you were imagining things

You continued walking until you bumped into a group of familiar faces

“Zhongli! Ei! Mavuika! Hey!” You yelled out making the former student council members turn towards you

You walk up to them and began striking up a conversation between them, the conversation went smooth but you noticed that the trio looked like they had something on their chest. You pushed it aside, not wanting to pry into potentially personal manners. Once the conversation came to an end Zhongli stepped in front of you

“Pardon me, but I got the most exquisite chocolate, for you.” He said as he handed you an expensive looking box of chocolate

“Woah, thank you, Zhongli. This must be really costly!”

“Don’t worry about that, I also got you some chocolate!” Mavuika smiled making her chin tattoo distort a bit as she held out an equally expensive looking box of chocolates

“Oh my gods, I don’t know what to say… I-I-”

“As Mavuika said before, don’t worry about it too much.” Zhongli stated

“If everyone is going you their gift then I shall you mine. I got you some chocolate covered dango.” Ei said flatly

“Thank you, Ei…” You said hoping the she didn’t make it herself and just opted to either buy it or have someone else make it for her

You checked the time on your watch and realized how much time you spent talking with the three

“I got to get going! See ya later!” You waved goodbye as you ran down the hall

You weren’t paying attention to where you were going which lead you to bump into a person. After getting your bearings you look up to see Ororon extending his hand to help you up. You took his hand and he helped you on your feet

“Sorry for not looking where I was going and bumping into you…”

“It’s nothing, I’m more worried about you.”

“I’m okay, for the most part.”

“That’s good to hear, and by the way.” Ororon reached into his bag and before handing you a baggie of chocolate. “This is for you.” Ororon said scratching his dark cheek and particularly hiding his face behind his dreads

“Thanks! I was half expecting for you to get me a cabbage from your garden, but this is a welcomed surprise!”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I helped him pick out the chocolate.” You and Ororon turn your heads to see Citlali with her hands on her hips. “Don’t be fooled he almost gave you one and nearly covered it in chocolate.” She said as you saw a vein pulsing on her head

“Well, it’s the thought that counts!” You laughed at the absurdity of getting a chocolate covered cabbage

“I also got you some chocolates.” Citlali said with a little pout

“Thank you so much!” You accepted the chocolates

“(N/n)!”

You turned around to see Mualani dragging Kinich towards you. She held up box with clear packaging

“I got you some chocolate!” Mualani began. “Look its shaped like little fish!” She pointed at the box, her blue nail polish a sharp contrast against her tan skin

“It’s so cute!” You gushed

“C’mon, Kinich! Give them your gift!” Mualani nudged the dark haired boy towards you. He extended his hand with the gift in it out towards you for you to take it

“I got you some chocolate with fruit in it…” He whispered

“Ohh thank you, Kinich. I Love it!”

“It’s nothing…” The young Saurian Hunter said, internally thanking that his blush isn’t too noticeable on his darker skin

Green eyes looked down and noticed the red shopping bag on the floor by your feet. Kinich kept his curiosity to himself but it seemed that Mualani also saw the big bag

“Ohhh, (N/n), what’s in the bag?” She asked tilting her head to get a better view of said bag.

You picked up the bag and held it to your chest. “It’s a secret!” You answered

“Aw! No way you’re keeping what’s in there a secret!” She shouted as her waved her fists in the air until she catch a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Not unless I-”

Mualani jumped towards you to tickle you but luckily you dodged her just in the nick of time

“I’m gonna get you!” She shouted again

“Noooo!” You yelled out running for dear life. “It’s a secret til after school!”

Before Mualani could start running she was held back by her shirt collar, turning around she saw it was Kinich holding her back

Unaware that your secret isn’t in any immediate danger you kept running until you managed to in a random club room, the lights were off only being illuminated by candles

“Hehehe, looks like we got a little guess here~” A mysterious voice ominously giggled

You turned around to see a few hooded figures

“You’re interested in our small ritual?” The figure in the center, you assume to be the leader

“Stop fucking with them.” A raspy voice called out, you turned around to see Rosaria sitting in a chair, reaching over she turns on the switch, lighting up the room.

“Okay, I’m kidding bestie!” The leader took their hood off revealing them to be your good friend, the iconic 77th funeral director in training

“Hu Tao!? You scared the shit outta me!” You chastised

“Hehehe, I’m sorry, you’re just so easy to mess with.”

“I’m sorry if I scared you.” Shenhe took her hood off revealing her long white hair and stoic expression

“Yeah, this was Hu Tao’s idea.” Chongyun took his hood off as well. Oh since you’re here let me get my gift from the home ec room!” Chongyun said as he ran out of the clubroom

“Why the hell are you all wearing hoods in the dark?!” You yelled clutching your chest

“Where’s the fun in doing club activities in plain uniforms?” A smooth voice asked

You turned to see Yae Miko sitting a chair in the other side of the room

Before you could get another word in you were greeted with a box of chocolate by Shenhe, looking up at her ever stoic face

“For you.” She stated

“Oh thank you, Shenhe!” You said as you took the box and slowly saw red crept up on her face

“Hey no fair!” Hu Tao pouted before giving you a baggie of chocolate shaped ghosts and skulls. “I made them myself!”

“Thank you too, Hu Tao, but I will say that this is very spooky for a day like valentines.”

“There’s never a day were spookiness isn’t appropriate!” She shot back

“I got you this.” Rosaria said as she handed you a plain looking chocolate bar

“Thanks, I thought you think that Valentine’s Day is a sappy overpriced holiday?” You asked

“I can take part in a holiday that I don’t agree with… But I do hope you like it.” Rosaria said

“I will, thank you again.”

“Since everyone is giving their chocolates, I suppose I will give you mines.” Yae Miko stood up and walked towards you. She gave you a baggie decorated in cherry blossom petals filled with chocolate the same shape

“Thanks Yae.”

“Don’t mention, but I do expect some chocolate in return from you.”

“I, well, I.”

“Hmm, since I’m so generous I’ll give you until the end of the day to give me my chocolates.”

“You really are generous, Yae.” You breathed a sigh of relief

The door to the club room opens revealing Chongyun and Xingqiu

“I got this for you, I hope you do enjoy it.” The blue haired boy said as he handed you a chocolate popsicle

“I got you your favorite chocolate.” Xingqiu stated

You don’t remember telling him your favorite brand of chocolate, it must have slipped your mind

“Thank you, all of you. But I need to get going.”

“Bye-bye!” Hu Tao waved as the others said their goodbyes

You walked out of the club room and closed the door behind you, when you opened your eyes you were greeted with treats

“Hey (Name), we saw that Chongyun was getting his gift for you so we decided to give you your gifts!” Navia said as she handed you a tupperware filled with macarons.”

“I made you some chocolate chip cookies! I hope you like them…” Noelle muttered the last part

“I wanted to make you a chocolate slime smoothie, but I was told to make something ‘normal’, so I made you some brownies!” Xiangling said with a pout as she handed you you a surprisingly cute looking box

You accepted it glad that you got this instead of the slime concoction she was originally going to make you

“Thanks, you guys! I’ll make sure to enjoy them!” You said

“Say (Name) are you interested in trying my new mystery meat sandwich-”

Xiangling was pulled and dragged away by her collar by Navia as Noelle shook her head in disapproval. You were left confused but ever so grateful that you didn’t get roped into trying Xiangling’s new recipes

“Why hello, dear (Name).” You turned around to see Lyney, Lynette, and Freminet walk up to you

“Hey guys!” You waved back

Lynette held up a piece of paper that has a rose and chocolate drawn on it

“See this piece of paper?” Lyney asked

“Uh huh…”

“Now watch this!”

You saw Lyney wave his hand over the paper, showing that paper doesn’t have anything taped to it before swiping his hands and both the chocolate and rose appear in them

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Mon cœur.” Lyney said

“Whoa, how did you do that?” You said as you took the rose and treat

“A magician never reveals their secrets.” Lynette said

You gave the twins the side eye before noticing Freminet waiting around, his eyes trained on the floor almost afraid of meeting your eyes. Sensing your eyes on his brother, Lyney pushed Freminet in front of him to be face to face with you

“C’mon Fremmy! Give them your chocolate!” Lyney encouraged

Freminet held out a plain looking chocolate bar. “P-please accept my chocolate!” The blond said as he gave you the gift

“Thank you you three, I love my gifts!” You smiled at the siblings

You saw Freminet’s face turn bright red before he ran off in the opposite direction

“Sorry, we’ll see you later!” Lyney said before running to catch up to Freminet and Lynette

You kept on until you bumped into a familiar face

“Xianyun! Hi!”

“Why hello (Name). You’re just the person I was looking for.”

“Really?”

“I wanted to give you this box of chocolates.”

“Wow thank you, Xianyun.”

“It’s nothing, oh this reminds me of the time where Ganyu was little and she would-”

“Xianyun!” A voice called out to her

“Oh, I have to go, it was nice talking to you.”

“See ya around!” You waved goodbye bye before continuing on with your day, hopefully you can get done what you originally wanted to do

“(Name)!”

Or maybe not

You turned to see Albedo and Surose walking up to you, Albedo ever so stoic and Surose is a bright red and hiding behind her lab partner

“Hey guys!” You yelled out causing Surose to try and run away but Albedo stopped her, he made sure she continued to walk towards you

“Hello (Name), me and Surose were working on a special chocolate just for you.” Albedo began.

“It has the health benefits of dark chocolate but it’s just as sweet as milk chocolate.” Surose finished

“That sounds amazing. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you two!” You complemented

“It’s nothing, if it’s for you…” Surose smiled, it seemed that she realized what she said and ran off as her face began to get redder

“Surose! Wait!” Albedo said as he chased after his lab partner

You just shook your head in amusement and felt someone right next to you

“Aw those two.” Emilie said fondly. “To have what they have.”

“I just think they’re just really close friends.” You said

“If you say so, but before I go. I have something to give you.”

Emilie took a pretty looking box out of her bag and handed it to you

“Oh my gods, it’s so cute! I almost don’t want to ruin this.”

“If you dont try my chocolates then that’ll hurt my feelings.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll eat them as soon as I get home!”

“I’m just kidding~ well then toodle-oo.” Emilie said as walked away

You kept walking down the hall and down the stairs to the 2nd floor until you saw another familiar face

“Al Haitham, hi!” You greeted as you walked up to him

“Here.” He handed you a little box of chocolate. “I don’t know if you have any allergies so I just got you milk chocolate.”

“Ohh, well thank you-”

“That’s not how you give chocolate to them!” You heard a familiar voice yell from behind you. “You have to start off with a heartfelt speech!”

“Hey Kaveh.” You greeted

“Hi (Name), please forgive my friend for his lackluster speech!” Kaveh began

“It’s fine…”

“It is not! You should prepare a speech on how they-”

Kaveh began to go on a rant about Al Haitham’s speech and waved his arms dramatically. Al Haitham ushered you away from the blonde, the two of you talked as you were walking down the 2nd floor hall

“(Name)! There you are!”

You turned around to see Tighnari and Collei walking up towards you

“Hey guys!”

“I made you some chocolate with some edible flowers in it.” Tighnari said as he handed you a nicely wrapped bar of chocolate

“And I made you a little bear, I didn’t know what kind of chocolate you liked so I opted to make you a stuffed animal.”

“I love them!”

You began to gush about how cute the stuffed bear and the wrapping of the chocolate looked, you were so engrossed by the adorable bear you missed the look of fondness on everyone’s faces

“(N/n).” You heard a familiar voice call out for you

You turned around to see Itto running up towards you

“Itto!” You greeted, missing the grimaces of Tighnari and Al Haitham

“Here ya go, my número dos!” Itto handed you a milk bread but instead of the usual vanilla filling, it’s chocolate

“Wow, I didn’t know they sell this at the canteen!”

“They don’t, I just picked one up last night on the way home.” Itto explained purposely leaving out that he had to go to 10 different convenient stores just to find one of that flavor

“Oh my gods, Itto you’re the best!”

“Ha! It’s nothing for my number two!” The oni laughed and you soon noticed Shinobu walking up from behind

“Ah, Shinobu! How are you?”

“I’m good, as good as anyone can be when dealing with Itto and the others.”

“True that!” You laughed

“By the way, happy Valentine’s Day!” She handed you a little pouch of chocolate

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much, all of you!”

The bell rung

“Alright, I’ll see you guys later.” You said as you went back to class

“Bye (Name).” The two waved goodbye

Once you entered you, your classroom the teacher pulled you aside and they asked you to get their lesson plan from the teacher’s office. No problem it was something you have done many times before and you figured you can quickly do what you were originally going to do during lunchtime since the hallways would be empty

“Okay, I’ll try to be quick!” You said as you walked out of the classroom with your big shopping bag

You walked down the hallway and made sure to go get the lesson plan as quickly as possible, luckily for you the teachers’ office was on the first floor the same floor where the lockers are

You began to open up your shopping bag until you stopped in your tracks

“What are you doing?” You heard a familiar deep voice

You slowly turn you head, praying it’s not who you think it is. Once you finally turned your head you saw Wriothsely

“Hey… Wrio…” You greeted

“Hey, I was looking for you.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah, I wanted to give you this.” Wriothesley said as he handed you a chocolate bar which you took and smiled at him

“Wow, thanks Wrio, I-”

“But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.” Wriothesley began. “Care to explain why you are out of class?”

“Well I was getting the lesson plan for my teacher! You know how forgetful they are……”

Wriothesley gave you an unamused look which makes you realize you aren’t getting out of the situation that easily

“Okay, I go with you.”

You began to follow Wriothesley until you turned towards the door

“CHILDE STOP FIGHTING!” You yelled out causing Wriothesley to turn around and rush out the door. (You didn’t see Childe fighting)

Seeing the opportunity you ran, and ran like your life depended on it. Your feet carried you into the equipment shed . You entered the shed and breathed a sigh of relief

“You came here to nap too?”

You turned your head to see Xilonen laying on the foam gym mats, her blazer thrown to the side

“I’m sorry, I just need a place to hide from someone, if you want me to leave I can…” You said

“Nahh, it’s good.” She yawned out. “I don’t mind if it’s you.” The hybrid began rummaging through her bag and pulled out a rectangular box and handed it to you. “This is for you.”

“Oh, thanks! I don’t know what to say!”

“You don’t gotta say anything, but what I do want is a small cuddle session with you.”

“Huh…?”

“You look a bit stressed, a nap would do you good.”

“Uhh I don’t know.” You looked out of the transom window to see Wriothesley looking for either you or Childe. “Okay, but I’ll lay down for just a second.” You said as you sighed

You laid down next to Xilonen, she closed her eyes basking in the closeness

How can she remain so calm while you’re sweating bullets, this is the closest, physically, you’ve been to anyone in the academy. After gods know how many minutes of this you shot up and left the shed

“Sorry, Xilonen!” You apologized through the door

After calming your heart rate you entered the building through the front entrance. You decided against doing what you were originally going to do due to wasting a decent amount of time with Xilonen

“Skipping class?”

You whipped your head towards the direction of the voice only to see Childe with a grin on his face

“Shit! You scared me!” You whisper-yelled

“It’s so unusual to see you cutting, you’re such a goodie two shoes.”

“I’m not!”

“You totally are.” Childe playfully flicked your forehead. “What are you doing by the lockers? Wait, are you putting your Valentine’s Day gift in one of the lockers?”

“Well, I was…”

“Who?!” Childe shouted

“Are you high?! Keep your voice down!” You chastised as you but your hands over his mouth

“You’re skipping too?” Another voice questioned

The both of you turn your heads to see it came from Dehya

“Ye-yeah. Wait, no!!” You said, “I was going to put something in someone’s locker, but decided against it…”

“Whose locker!” Childe asked with a menacing aura surrounding him causing you to be frozen in fear

“You’re scaring them!” Dehya said as she pulled Childe away from you by the collar. The ginger relented and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I got you some chocolates.” Dehya said as she handed you a small box

“Aw, thank you-”

“I also got you some chocolate!” Childe said and gave you a chocolate bar

“Thanks, Childe.” You said

“So whose locker you putting chocolate in?” Childe asked. “I bet it’s mine, is it?”

“Well it’s…”

“It’s someone else’s?” Dehya asked

“Kinda…”

“Who is it?” Childe asked his menacing aura more intense than before

“Uhh…” You looked around trying to find a way out of this situation. “Hey aren’t those the guys from the gang you hate?” You said diverting his attention to the figures outside

“Hey!” Childe ran out of the building and began fighting the rival gang members

“There you are!” You heard Wriothesley yell out

Shit

“No, I’m sorry!” You shouted out a you ran away from the scene

“Hey!” Bennett said as he spotted you running towards him. “I got you some chocolate-” The white haired boy slipped on a banana peel that he missed. He slipped forward head butting you in the process

You pass out

Opening your eyes you see a light shinning overhead. Looking at it makes your already hurting head a lot worse, you turned away and sat up. All making sure to be slow and not make any sudden movements. Pulling the curtain back you were greeted by Baizhu, the nurse assistant

“Oh you’re finally up.”

“Up? What happened?”

Baizhu explained everything, mainly how you were headbutted by Bennett and the poor boy brought you to the nurse’s office. He was eventually told to leave so as to not overwhelm you once you woke up

“Oh that makes a lot more sense.” You said looking at where your left hand is and seeing a chocolate bar

You picked up the bar and read the note attached to it. It read “sorry for headbutting you, Bennett”

You smiled to yourself and made a mental note on telling the boy that everything was good

“(Name)” Baizhu turned towards you. “I got you some dark chocolate. It has lots of health benefits.”

“Thank you, Baizhu. I didn’t take you to be the romantic type.” You chuckled

“I am when it comes to you…”

“Uhh…”

“Ahem!”

You and Baizhu turned towards see members of the student council in the doorway

“The student council has heard that you were in the nurse’s office and we all decided to see how you were feeling and maybe give you chocolate to feel better…” Jean whispered the last part while unaware of the blush on her face

“Jean is right, it’s our job to make sure that each and every student feel comfortable and well.” Ningguang stated

Kokomi and Gorou tread carefully towards the bed you were laying in and they both presented you two baggies of chocolate

“Please accept this gift to make you feel better.” Kokomi spoke

“Yes, we wouldn’t want for you to be hurt any longer.” Gorou added desperately trying to stop his tail from waging

Ganyu and Keqing slowly walked up to you, Kokomi and Gorou stepped aside to give them some room. Once in front of you they both gave you with a big white box

“Me and Keqing made you some chocolate cake!” Ganyu said with a smile

“Please feel better.” Keqing said

“Thank you, you guys.”

“I bought you some bonbons, I know it’s not made with love like Ganyu and Keqing’s.” Yelan said as he gave you a box of bonbons

“It doesn’t matter, if you bought it, I’ll still accept it.”

Diluc walked up to you with his hands behind his back and his face as red as his fiery hair

“If that’s the case then, I got you some wine infused chocolates from my family’s company.” He said as he handed you a small box with gold wrapping. “Don’t worry the amount of wine is very small so you won’t get intoxicated.”

“Thank you so much, Di!”

“I made you some chocolate mousse, I do hope that you enjoy it, (Name).” Neuvilette smiled as he gave you the mousse

Before you could give your thanks to Neuvilette, Ayato walks up to your bedside

“Please enjoy this chocolate imported from Fontaine. I hope it’s to your liking.” Ayato boasted as he handed you a medium sized box of chocolate

“I got our dear (Name) some of the finest chocolate Snezhnaya has.” Pantalone gave you a box with silver lining

“Is that the best you can do?” Ningguang walked up to your bed and handed you a massive box of chocolate. “This is chocolate made by the finest chocolatiers Liyue has to offer.” She explained with a smug aura

Thoma and Jean come up to you with their hands behind their backs, the secretary went first

“My gift isn’t as extravagant as theirs but I tried my best to make you some chocolate chip cookies.” Thoma said has he handed you a bag of cookies

“I also baked you some cookies, I hope you like them!” Jean said

“I love them! It doesn’t matter if you bought or made them, it only matters that you had me in mind when you presented them!” You said with a smile

You saw members of the student council faces quickly become red, some redder than others

“Cyno, Sara, Clorinde, Chevreuse. What are you doing here? Please don’t tell me you’re here to take me to detention.” You asked as you spotted members of the discipline committee

“We’re here to make sure you’re okay, we heard that you were rendered unconscious in an accident.” Clorinde said as she put her hand over on chest

“I’m okay, for the most part.”

“That’s good to hear, I brought this for you.” Sara said as she held out a box of Inazuman chocolate

“Here is some chocolate, (Name).” Clorinde smiled as she gave you a baggie of chocolates

“I also got you some chocolate!” Chevreuse said as she gave you one of those mega sized chocolate bars

“Whoa, this is massive, Chevy!” You said amazed

“It’s so you have enough energy for your cafe job!” Chevreuse put her hands on her hips. “I know how energy consuming it is!”

Cyno walks up to you and he hands you a nice looking boxes of chocolate

“Chocolate has the power to heal the soul, it’s the ultimate treat-meant.” Cyno said with a grin causing you to laugh

“Ow! My head!” You said after chuckling

You missed the grimaces of everyone in the room gave Cyno, you finally stopped laughing and realized you don’t see your bag

“Uh has anyone seen my bag?” You asked

“Your school bag is in the classroom, I can get it if you need.” Diluc offered

“No I mean the big shopping bag I had all day!” You explained

“I haven’t seen it.” Ganyu said

“It might be in the lost and found.” Yelan theorized

“Okay, I need to get it.” You said as you got up from the bed

“Whoa, whoa. You aren’t in any condition to be running around.” Cyno advised

“They seem fine to me.” Jean said

“They hit their head, symptoms of a concussion could take hours to manifest.” Sara explained

This caused members of the student council to argue with the discipline committee, all of them were so wrapped up in trying to be right they didn’t notice you sneaking out of the window

“Uhh, where did they go?!”

You ran down the back and just when you were about to enter the building a figure jumps out from the bushes

You jumped back and saw the wolf boy, Razor sniffing you

“Lupical!”

“Hi, Razor…”

“Here!” Razor said as he gave you a surprisingly nice looking chocolate bar

“Thanks…”

Razor hopped back into the bush, leaving you confused as hell

Whatever you entered the school through one of the back entrances and looked around for where in the hell the lost and found could be

Out of the corner of your eye you saw both Aether and Lumine walking down the hall, the two of them made eye contact and began running before stopping in front of you. They both were panting and just when you were about to ask them what’s wrong Lumine holds up a golden box

“Please accept these!” She shouted

“No way! If you accept hers then please accept mines!” Aether retorted

“We got the same chocolate asshole!” Lumine said as she elbowed her brother in the ribs

You take both of the boxes and awkwardly thank the twins, but they were a bit too busy arguing with each other

“Okay, I’m gonna leave!” You said as you slowly walked away

You run down the hall and entered a random room only to discover that you stumbled upon the astrology club

“Hey guys, I need your help with something. Do you know where the lost and found is?” You asked

“It’s in the student council meeting room.” Candace explained

“Oh thank you so much-”

“If you are going to go, then please accept my chocolate.” Mona said as she held out a fancy looking box of chocolates

“Thank you-”

“I also got you chocolates.” Candace said as she gave you a baggie of chocolates

“Here you go- zzzzzzz.” Layla fell asleep still standing

“Uhh, Layla?” You asked but still didn’t get a response from her. “Okay, I’ll take the chocolate…”

You took the chocolate bar and kept on your way after you helped settle Layla in a chair

Okay, so it’s in the student council’s meeting room, and that’s on the 5th floor, fuck! You run up the stairs and tried not to die from absolute exhaustion

Upon reaching the 5th floor you were meet with Faruzan and Nilou

“(Name), just the person I wanted to see.” Faruzan started. “As your senior I decided to give my favorite lowerclassaman some chocolate for this fine day!”

“Thank you Faruzan.” You said as you box the little box of chocolate

“I know my gift isn’t as extravagant as Faruzan, but I hope you like it, (Name).” Nilou gave you a small baggie of chocolates in cute shapes

“Thank you, you two. I would love to talk but I’m very busy right now. See you tomorrow!” You yelled out as you started to run towards the student council meeting room

Once in the room you were greeted with your beloved red shopping bag, you check the contents of the bag to make sure everything was in place and left the meeting room

You ran down the stairs but stopped before reaching the 1st floor when you heard Neuvillette’s voice

“You saw them in the astrology club room?”

“They might have went up to 5th floor to get their bag.” Jean inquired

“Let’s find them there.” Ayato said

Shit! They’re looking for you! Why? You feel fine!

You entered a classroom on the second floor and hid for the time being, you didn’t realize it was the dance room until Ga Ming greeted you

“Yo (Name)! What brings you here!”

“Just hiding, please don’t tell anyone I was here!”

“Okay, boss! By the way here’s your chocolate!” He said as he handed you a Liyuen chocolate bar

“Thanks man, see you later!” You waved goodbye bye as you exited the dance room

You down the hall to be in the opposite direction from where the student council was. Looking behind you, you missed the large figure you were running towards. You bumped into the person and fell on your butt

“Ugh, again…?” You said mainly to yourself before looking up to see who you bumped into “Capitano!” You shot up and began profusely apologizing

“Are you alright?” Mika asked

“Yeah, just a little frazzled.” You explained

“I got you some chocolate!” Mika said as he extended his hands out to give you a small box of chocolate

“I also got you some chocolate.” Capitano said as he turned away and gave you a cute looking box of chocolate

“Oh my gods, this is so cute!” You gushed

“Have you seen (Name)?” Keqing just around the corner asked a student

“Ack! I gotta go! Don’t tell anyone I was here!”

You ran in the opposite direction of where Keqing was and was greeted with a flash of light that disoriented you

“Sorry, you ran into the shot.”

You shook your head to see Charlotte and Heizou

“I’m sorry I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Well since you’re here, I want to give you this!” Charlotte said as she handed you a box of chocolate

“Wow, thanks Charlotte!”

“Hey (N/n), it’s after school~”

“Wait, I can’t tell you the secret just yet!” You said as you held the shopping bag close to your chest

“I can’t take this anymore, c’mon tell me! Or do I have to uncover it myself?” Heizou had a mischievous look on his face

“Is that (Name)?”

You bolted

You ran and looked around before hiding in the closet where they put the cleaning supplies, you just hoped that no one will think of checking there

Finally once the coast was clear you exited the supply closet and ran down the stairs. You finally reached the lockers and checked that many of the shoes haven’t been replaced with the inside shoes

You began your plan

“Have you seen them?” Wriothesley asked a pair of students whose answer were a no

The student council, discipline committee and many of your admirers regrouped after searching every nook and cranny the school had and found no sight of you

“Do you think they went home?” Kokomi asked

“I hope not, they could fall unconscious on their way home.” Diluc uttered

“I know I promised them that I wouldn’t tell anyone, but I just can’t when they’re in danger of passing out somewhere.” Ga Ming said

“It’s okay, you didn’t know, it’s an honest mistake.” Arlecchino reassured

“Big brother Albedo!” A high pitched voice called out

“Klee, what are you doing here?” Albedo asked

“You didn’t meet me where you told me you were going to.”

“I’m sorry, I was helping to look for (Name).”

“Oh (Name) gave me and Nahida these yummy cookies and went home!” Klee happily stated

“Wait! They went home?” Surose asked

“Yup!” Klee said

This sent everyone into a frenzy. You all alone potentially falling unconscious in the middle of the street drove them all insane

Everyone raced to their lockers to get their shoes but stopped

“Ha! I got chocolates from (Name)! Suck it losers!” Kuni cheered triumphantly

“We all got chocolates from them jackass.” Al Haitham said

Kuni looked around to see everyone holding a little box

“They even made me dog safe chocolate.” Gorou said desperately trying to hide his wagging tail

“They gave me chocolate before I could even gift them mine? I will get vengeance!” Eula said

“Chocolate and a cuddle session with (Name)? This is the best day ever.” Xilonen muttered to herself

“What?!” Everyone shouted in unison

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