#so much chemistry - they are irresistible | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

00valentina-writes00 · 24 days ago

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An: I saw someone else do a Jock! vi x reader and…I wanted to try a go at it too^^

Original idea: @loaksky (THEY ARE SOO GOOD AT WRITING YOU HAVE TO CHECK IT OUT, my writing isn’t half as good as theirs is-)

Title: Chemistry Off the Ice

Synopsis: High school chemistry takes on a whole new meaning when you’re paired with Vi, the school’s cocky hockey star, for a lab assignment. Known for her bad-girl reputation and irresistible charm, Vi makes it her mission to break down your walls. Despite her relentless flirting, you’re determined to keep things strictly academic—until a drunken night at a party and unexpected late-night confessions begin to blur the line

Featuring sassy banter, undeniable chemistry, and dramatic promposals, Chemistry Off the Ice is a slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance with plenty of fluff and heart.

Warnings:

• Swearing and mature language

• Brief mentions of underage drinking

• Themes of self-doubt and emotional vulnerability

• sexual content

• Over-the-top high school shenanigans

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The fourth-hour bell rings, signaling the start of chemistry, and you drag yourself into class with all the enthusiasm of someone heading to a dentist appointment. Mr. Tails is already at the front of the room, fiddling with his projector and trying to shush a few kids laughing in the back row. You glance at the empty seat beside yours, silently praying it stays that way for the rest of the period.

The sound of a chair scraping against the floor breaks your illusion of solitude. You look up to see her. Vi strides in with the kind of swagger that makes her the star of every room she enters. Her magenta hair catches the fluorescent light as she tosses her bag on the counter and slouches into the seat beside you. She’s all sharp angles and cocky smirks, her light gray eyes scanning the room like she owns it.

“Alright, class,” Mr. Tails announces, clapping his hands. “We’re partnering up today for the molar mass and reaction rates lab. Take a good look at the person next to you—they’re your partner for the week.”

Your stomach sinks.

Vi leans back in her chair, folding her muscular arms behind her head. “Looks like we’re stuck together, huh?”

You force a tight smile, already regretting every decision that led you to this moment.

The lab instructions are written on the whiteboard in Mr. Tails’ barely legible scrawl, and you jot them down in your notebook while Vi lazily flips through the chemistry textbook.

“Alright, so first we’re figuring out the molar mass of this compound,” you mumble, tapping your pencil against the page. “I’ll handle the math if you grab the materials.”

Vi raises an eyebrow, her grin teasing. “What, don’t trust me with the calculations?”

“I trust you as far as I can throw you,” you shoot back without thinking, and Vi laughs—a low, rich sound that catches you off guard.

“Fair enough.” She pushes herself up from her seat, heading to the supply station.

You watch her for a second longer than you mean to. The way she moves is all confidence, like she knows exactly how to hold the world’s attention. You snap out of it when she returns, setting a tray of beakers and compounds on the counter with a loud clatter.

“Happy now?” she asks, leaning on the counter and smirking at you.

“Ecstatic,” you mutter, focusing on the measurements.

As the lab progresses, you realize something unsettling: Vi is smarter than you expected. Much smarter.

When she’s not leaning in close and murmuring flirty comments, she’s solving calculations in her head faster than you can write them down.

“You multiply the molarity here,” she says, pointing to your notebook, her finger grazing yours. “Then divide by the volume of the solution.”

You blink at her. “How do you even know that?”

Vi grins, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “Guess I’m full of surprises.”

You hate that she’s right.

Her sharp intelligence only makes her insufferable flirting more irritating. Every few minutes, she tosses out some line designed to make you stumble.

“Careful,” she says, her voice low as you measure out a solution. “You spill that, and we might have to do mouth-to-mouth.”

You roll your eyes. “You’re not as charming as you think, you know.”

“Really? Tell that to half the girls in this school.”

There it is—the infamous player reputation. You’ve heard the stories: Vi breaking hearts left and right, leaving a trail of lovesick admirers in her wake. It’s almost impressive how shameless she is about it.

“Look,” you say, setting down the pipette with more force than necessary. “Can we just focus on the lab? Some of us actually care about passing this class.”

Vi raises her hands in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. No need to get all worked up, princess.”

By the end of the class, you’re more annoyed than anything else.

Sure, Vi’s chemistry skills are undeniable, but her constant smirking and relentless teasing have you itching to escape. When the bell finally rings, you start packing up as fast as possible.

“Hey,” Vi says, stopping you with a hand on your notebook. “Same time tomorrow?”

You glance at her, noting the way her light gray eyes seem to catch the light, the playful edge to her grin.

“Unfortunately,” you mutter, pulling your notebook free.

Vi chuckles, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “Looking forward to it, partner.”

As she walks out of the room, you shake your head, trying to figure out how someone so infuriating could also be so good at chemistry.

You’re not looking forward to tomorrow. Not even a little.

~~~

The next day in chemistry, you walk into the classroom with a sense of foreboding. As much as you’d like to think otherwise, the prospect of spending another hour with Vi feels less like an academic exercise and more like a test of patience. You take your seat, flipping through your notebook, and brace yourself.

Right on cue, Vi saunters in, late as usual, her bag slung lazily over one shoulder. Her light gray eyes scan the room before locking onto you, and that trademark smirk spreads across her face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite lab partner,” she drawls, dropping into the seat next to you with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Miss me?”

“Like a toothache,” you reply without looking up.

Vi chuckles, leaning on the counter and invading your personal space just enough to be noticeable. “You’re funny, you know that? It’s cute.”

“Funny isn’t what you’re going for, though, is it?” you retort, finally glancing at her. She’s wearing that same cocky grin, the one that probably works on every other girl in school.

“Depends,” she says, her voice low and teasing. “Is it working?”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your notes. “Not even close.”

As Mr. Tails starts explaining the second half of the lab, Vi leans closer, her breath warm against your ear.

“So, what’s it going to take?” she murmurs, her tone dripping with confidence.

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “What’s what going to take?”

Vi shrugs, her grin widening. “To get you to like me.”

You snort, louder than you mean to, earning a sharp glance from Mr. Tails. “I don’t think you can handle rejection, can you?”

Her eyebrows shoot up, feigning offense. “Rejection? From you? Oh, come on. Everyone likes me.”

“Not me,” you say firmly, meeting her gaze head-on.

For a split second, Vi looks genuinely surprised, like the concept of someone resisting her charm is completely foreign. Then her surprise shifts into intrigue.

“Alright,” she says, leaning back in her chair. “Challenge accepted.”

You groan, already regretting engaging with her.

The lab itself is straightforward enough, but working with Vi is anything but simple. Every step of the process is punctuated by her relentless teasing and over-the-top attempts to impress you.

“You know,” she says, carefully pouring a solution into a beaker, “I think we make a pretty good team.”

“You mean because I’m doing all the work?” you reply, adding a precise amount of compound to the mix.

“Nah,” Vi says with a grin. “Because I’m making this fun.”

You pause, glancing at her. “This? Fun? For who?”

“For you, obviously.” She winks, and you roll your eyes so hard it’s a miracle you don’t strain something.

By the halfway point of the lab, you’re ready to snap. Vi’s relentless flirting is like an itch you can’t scratch, equal parts annoying and distracting.

“Why are you like this?” you ask, exasperated, as you scribble down your results.

“Like what?”

“Like…” You gesture vaguely at her, searching for the right words. “This. All the flirting, the smirking, the—”

Vi grins, cutting you off. “The charm?”

“More like the ego,” you shoot back.

“Ouch.” She places a hand over her chest, feigning hurt. “You wound me, partner.”

You snort. “Somehow, I think you’ll survive.”

Eventually, you can’t take it anymore. You set down your pen, turning to face her directly.

“Look, Vi, I’m just going to save you some time here,” you say, your tone firm. “I don’t sleep with players.”

For the first time, Vi’s confident grin falters. It’s brief, barely noticeable, but you catch it.

“Players?” she repeats, raising an eyebrow.

“You know what I mean,” you say, crossing your arms. “The whole school knows your reputation. Short flings, casual hookups, leaving girls heartbroken—sound familiar?”

Vi doesn’t deny it. Instead, her grin returns, but there’s a new edge to it. “So, what, you’re saying you’re immune to all this?” She gestures to herself, her voice dripping with mock disbelief.

“Completely,” you reply without hesitation.

Vi leans closer, her gray eyes narrowing in challenge. “We’ll see about that.”

You roll your eyes again, turning back to the lab. “Good luck with that, Casanova.”

Despite her frustration, Vi seems more determined than ever. For the rest of the lab, she tries every trick in her playbook: complimenting your intelligence, cracking jokes, even pretending to mess up the experiment just to get your attention.

Nothing works.

By the time the bell rings, she’s visibly annoyed, though she hides it well.

“Same time tomorrow?” she asks, her tone almost mocking as she packs up her stuff.

“Unfortunately,” you reply, mirroring her words from the day before.

Vi chuckles, shaking her head. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a small sense of satisfaction. Vi might be used to getting her way, but you’re not about to make it easy for her.

~~~

On the third day of your forced partnership in chemistry class, Vi’s persistent charm offensive reaches new heights. You walk in, coffee in hand, determined to endure another hour of her relentless teasing without snapping.

“Morning, gorgeous,” Vi greets as soon as you sit down. She’s already there, twirling a pen between her fingers like some kind of suave protagonist from a bad teen drama.

“Morning, headache,” you reply dryly, taking a long sip of your coffee.

Vi smirks, undeterred. “Damn, you’re spicy today. Didn’t get enough sleep? Thinking about me all night?”

You shoot her a deadpan look. “The only thing keeping me up was imagining ways to escape this lab without getting detention.”

Vi laughs, a low, throaty sound that somehow makes your pulse quicken despite your best efforts to stay immune to her. “You’ve got jokes. I like that about you.”

“And I like silence,” you retort, pulling out your notebook. “Think you can manage that for once?”

For the first half of the lab, Vi is surprisingly focused, finishing her portion of the work faster than usual. You suspect she has an ulterior motive when she leans back in her chair and grins at you like she’s just scored the winning goal.

“So,” she begins, stretching out the word like she’s savoring it. “There’s a party at Ekko’s tonight. You’re coming.”

You glance at her, unimpressed. “That wasn’t a question.”

“Exactly,” Vi says, leaning forward. “Because I already know your answer.”

You snort. “Oh, do you? Let me guess—‘Hell no?’”

She shakes her head, that cocky smirk never faltering. “Wrong. It’s ‘Hell yes.’”

You raise an eyebrow. “And why, exactly, would I want to go to some sweaty, overcrowded house party?”

“Because,” Vi says, leaning even closer, “you’ve been working so hard trying to resist me. You deserve a night off.”

You roll your eyes so hard it’s a wonder they don’t get stuck. “Vi, I wouldn’t go to a party with you if my life depended on it.”

“Okay, but what if Ekko’s life depended on it?” she counters, grinning.

“Then I’d send flowers to his funeral,” you reply, turning back to your notes.

Despite your initial refusal, Vi somehow convinces you by the end of class. Maybe it’s the way she flashes you that infuriatingly charming smile, or maybe it’s the realization that you really could use a drink after dealing with her all week. Either way, you find yourself standing outside Ekko’s house later that night, already regretting your life choices.

The party is exactly what you expected: loud music, red Solo cups, and a mix of people you vaguely recognize from school. Vi finds you almost immediately, appearing at your side with two drinks in hand.

“Look who showed up,” she says, handing you one of the cups. “I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“I’m here for the free alcohol,” you reply, taking a cautious sip. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Vi grins. “Whatever you need to tell yourself, sweetheart.”

One drink turns into two, then three, and before you know it, you’re blackout drunk. The night becomes a chaotic blur of questionable decisions and ridiculous antics. At one point, you challenge someone to a dance battle despite having zero rhythm. At another, you climb onto the coffee table to deliver an impassioned speech about the superiority of cats over dogs.

Vi, to her credit, stays by your side the entire time, equal parts amused and exasperated.

“You’re a mess,” she says, catching you when you nearly trip over your own feet.

“I’m a delight,” you correct, poking her in the chest. “And you love it.”

Vi chuckles, steadying you with an arm around your waist. “Sure, whatever you say, lightweight.”

By the end of the night, you’re slumped against Vi, mumbling incoherent nonsense about the IRS.

“You can’t take me home,” you slur, wagging a finger in her face. “The IRS will find me. They’re watching.”

Vi stares at you, torn between laughter and concern. “Uh, okay. Noted. So where am I supposed to take you?”

“Nowhere!” you declare dramatically. “I live… nowhere. I’m a ghost.”

“Right,” Vi says, clearly fighting to keep a straight face. “Looks like you’re coming to my place, then.”

You don’t protest, too busy mumbling something about the government tracking your movements.

When you finally reach Vi’s house, she’s surprisingly gentle as she helps you inside. Her cool exterior cracks just a little as she guides you to her room, trying not to panic.

“Alright, sit tight,” she says, rummaging through her dresser. She pulls out an old hockey sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants, holding them up like they’re some kind of offering.

“Clothes,” you mumble, staring at her like she’s just solved world hunger.

“Yeah, clothes,” Vi says, crouching in front of you. “Think you can manage to put them on, or do you need help?”

You squint at her, as if weighing your options. “Help,” you decide, flopping back onto her bed.

Vi freezes, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Uh… okay. Cool. No big deal.”

She moves carefully, trying to maintain her usual nonchalant demeanor as she helps you out of your party clothes. Her hands are steady, but you can feel the tension radiating off her as she avoids looking directly at you.

Vi stops short as her eyes catch on the lacy fabric beneath your party clothes. She stares for a second longer than she should before snapping her gaze away, her ears burning as red as her hair.

“Uh…” she clears her throat, fumbling with the sweatshirt in her hands. “Fancy.”

You crack an unsteady smile, still far too drunk to process her awkwardness. “You like ‘em?” you slur, wiggling your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner that sends Vi into a full-blown tailspin.

“Just… just shut up,” she mutters, her voice tight as she tries to focus on anything but the fact that she’s helping you undress while you’re wearing the kind of lingerie she thought only existed in movies.

Her fingers brush against your shoulder as she pulls your dress up and over your head, and she freezes again. You’re too out of it to notice how tense she is, but her jaw is clenched so hard it’s a miracle she doesn’t crack a tooth.

“This is fine,” she mumbles to herself, determined to keep her cool. “Totally fine. No big deal.”

“Big deal,” you echo, your words slurred but teasing. You grin up at her lazily. “You’re blushing.”

“I’m not blushing,” Vi snaps, her voice a little too sharp as she yanks the sweatshirt over your head. “You’re drunk. You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You hum in response, unconvinced but too sleepy to argue. “Mmm… you’re cute when you’re flustered.”

Vi groans, her head tilting back as if begging the universe for strength. “God, you’re impossible.”

“Admit it,” you mumble, your voice muffled by the fabric of her sweatshirt as she adjusts it on you. “You think I’m hot.”

She doesn’t respond right away, which surprises you. When you glance up at her, her expression is guarded, her usual cocky smirk nowhere to be found.

“Just… go to sleep,” she says finally, her voice softer than usual.

You frown, reaching out clumsily to poke her cheek. “You didn’t deny it.”

“Because you’re drunk,” she says, gently pushing your hand back down to your side. “And you’re not gonna remember half of this tomorrow.”

You pout, sinking back into the bed. “Maybe I will. And then I’ll remind you.”

Vi rolls her eyes, though the corner of her mouth twitches in a reluctant smile. “Sure, sweetheart. You do that.”

She tucks the blankets around you carefully, her hands lingering just a little longer than necessary. For someone who acts so tough, she’s surprisingly gentle, her movements almost reverent.

“Goodnight,” she says softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face again.

“Goodnight,” you mumble, your eyes already drooping closed. “You’re still blushing.”

Vi doesn’t respond, but the flush on her cheeks deepens as she sits back, watching you fall asleep. She leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she lets out a quiet sigh.

“Yeah,” she mutters to herself, her voice barely audible. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

As you drift off to sleep, Vi sits on the edge of the bed, watching you with a mix of fondness and exasperation. She may act like she’s got it all together, but tonight has definitely thrown her off balance.

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath. “What the hell am I getting myself into?”

~~~

The first thing you notice when you wake up is the pounding headache, a dull, persistent throb that feels like someone’s taken a sledgehammer to your skull. The second thing you notice is the faint smell of detergent and something sharper—hockey gear?—clinging to the fabric covering you. You blink, squinting at the sunlight filtering through unfamiliar curtains.

You’re in a room you don’t recognize, dressed in an oversized hoodie that nearly swallows you whole and a pair of equally massive sweatpants. It takes your sluggish brain a few seconds to piece it together, but the faint memory of Vi’s smirking face and her cocky voice filters through the haze.

Oh, no.

The door creaks open, and you flinch, pulling the blankets up to your chin like some kind of shield. Vi strolls in, a cup of water in one hand and a small packet of painkillers in the other, her hair still messy from sleep. She’s wearing a tank top and boxers, her toned arms on full display, and there’s a smug grin plastered across her face.

“Morning, trouble,” she greets, her voice far too loud for your current state.

You groan, burying your face in the pillow. “Kill me.”

“Nah, I’m not that cruel,” she teases, setting the water and pills on the nightstand. “Here. You’ll need these.”

You glance at the offering suspiciously before reaching for the pills, your movements slow and deliberate as if the slightest wrong move might shatter you entirely.

“What the hell happened last night?” you mumble, downing the painkillers with a grimace.

Vi leans against the wall, crossing her arms. “Let’s see… You got blackout drunk, tried to fight a lamp, insisted you were in witness protection when I asked for your address, and then passed out in my car. That about sums it up.”

You stare at her, mortified. “I did not try to fight a lamp.”

“Oh, you did,” Vi says with a laugh, pushing off the wall to sit at the edge of the bed. “Called it a ‘government spy.’ Honestly, it was pretty convincing. I almost believed you.”

You groan again, covering your face with your hands. “Please tell me I didn’t embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Vi grins, leaning a little closer. “Not everyone. Just me. And maybe Ekko. And, uh, half the party.”

“Vi!” you wail, throwing a pillow at her. She dodges easily, her grin widening.

“Relax,” she says, holding up her hands. “It’s not the end of the world. No one’s gonna remember half the shit you did anyway. Well, except maybe me. You’re kinda unforgettable, y’know?”

You narrow your eyes at her, but the way her grin softens into something more genuine makes your stomach do an unwelcome little flip.

Before you can dwell on it, there’s a knock at the door, followed by a deep, gruff voice. “Vi, you up?”

Vi’s expression shifts instantly, her grin fading into something more guarded. “Yeah, Vander, I’m up.”

The door swings open to reveal a large, burly man with a thick beard and a face that looks like it’s seen more than its fair share of fights. His eyes flick to you, still bundled up in Vi’s clothes, and his eyebrows raise.

“Another one?” he asks, his tone teasing but not unkind.

Your face burns, and you sit up straighter, trying to look at least a little dignified despite the hoodie hanging off one shoulder.

“She was drunk,” Vi says quickly, her ears turning pink. “I couldn’t just leave her.”

Vander chuckles, crossing his arms. “You’re a real saint, Vi. Always takin’ in strays.”

You bristle, feeling a mix of embarrassment and irritation. “I’m not a stray,” you snap, a little sharper than you intended.

Vander raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but he holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My mistake.” He glances at Vi. “Just keep it down, alright? Powder’s still asleep.”

“Got it,” Vi mutters, waiting until Vander’s gone before turning back to you. “Sorry about that.”

You shake your head, still feeling awkward but grateful for the distraction from your hangover. “It’s fine. I should probably get going anyway.”

Vi frowns, but she doesn’t stop you as you swing your legs over the side of the bed and stand, wobbling slightly. She’s on her feet in an instant, steadying you with a hand on your arm.

“Whoa, take it easy,” she says, her concern breaking through her usual cocky exterior. “You sure you’re okay to leave?”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist, pulling away from her touch. “I just… I need to go.”

She doesn’t argue, but there’s a flicker of something in her eyes—disappointment, maybe?—that makes your chest tighten.

“Alright,” she says softly. “Let me at least drive you home.”

You hesitate, then shake your head. “I’ll call someone. Thanks, though. For, uh, everything.”

Vi watches you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before stepping aside to let you pass. “Anytime, trouble.”

The nickname makes your stomach flip again, but you push the feeling down, focusing instead on making it out of the house without further embarrassment.

As you step outside, the morning air cool against your skin, you can’t help but glance back at the door. You tell yourself it’s just to make sure you didn’t forget anything, but the truth is harder to ignore.

You don’t know what’s more frustrating—the fact that Vi’s cocky grin is still burned into your mind, or the fact that some part of you doesn’t want to forget it.

~~~

The first day back at school after the disaster of crashing at Vi’s place is hell. Not because of the homework or the typical high school bullshit, but because you can feel Vi watching you from across the hallway. Her sharp gray eyes practically burn holes in the back of your head every time you pass her locker, where she always seems to be leaning with that stupid, cocky grin.

You’ve made a decision—a firm, unshakable decision. Whatever happened at her place, it’s not going to happen again. Not the teasing. Not the casual flirting. Not her annoying tendency to worm her way into your thoughts without even trying.

You’re keeping things strictly platonic. Strictly professional.

Unfortunately, chemistry lab doesn’t make that easy.

You’re already seated at the lab bench, flipping through your textbook and pretending not to notice the sound of Vi’s boots as she strolls in late, as always. She drops her bag with a dramatic thud next to your stool and slides into the seat beside you.

“Morning, partner,” she says, her voice low and playful.

“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, keeping your eyes on the page.

“What? We are lab partners,” she says innocently, leaning back in her chair. You can hear the smirk in her voice. “I mean, unless you’re asking to switch. You’re not ditching me, are you?”

“No,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Good.” She scoots her stool closer, her shoulder brushing against yours. “’Cause I’d hate to lose the best lab partner in school.”

You glance at her, raising an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to help with the lab this time, or are you just here to steal my notes again?”

Vi grins, leaning in slightly. “Depends. You gonna let me copy off you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Aw, come on.” She tilts her head, her grin softening into something almost charming. “I’ll make it up to you. Buy you lunch or something.”

You snort, turning back to your book. “I’d rather not get food poisoning, thanks.”

Vi places a hand over her chest, feigning offense. “Ouch. That’s cold.”

The teacher starts explaining the experiment, sparing you from coming up with a response. You focus intently on the instructions, ignoring the way Vi keeps fidgeting beside you—tapping her pencil, spinning her stool, drumming her fingers on the table.

It isn’t until you’re halfway through the lab, measuring out a solution, that Vi finally seems to settle down. Or so you think.

“You missed a drop,” she says, her voice low and close to your ear.

You jump, nearly spilling the beaker, and glare at her. “Jesus, Vi. Do you have to sneak up on me like that?”

She leans back, looking smug. “Just trying to help. Teamwork, remember?”

“I’m doing fine on my own.”

“Yeah, I can see that.” She gestures vaguely at the lab setup. “You’re really nailing the whole ‘one-person team’ thing.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to your work, determined not to let her get to you. But it’s hard to ignore her. The way she leans in just a little too close. The way her voice dips when she’s teasing you. The way she smells faintly of sweat and mint gum, a combination that’s annoyingly distracting.

The experiment drags on, and by the time you finish, your nerves are completely shot.

“Alright,” the teacher announces, clapping her hands. “That’s it for today. Don’t forget to clean up your stations.”

You start packing up the equipment, barely acknowledging Vi as she stands and stretches, her hoodie riding up slightly to reveal a sliver of toned stomach.

“See you tomorrow, partner,” she says, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

You don’t respond.

The next few days follow the same pattern. You keep your distance, only speaking to Vi when absolutely necessary. She, on the other hand, seems determined to make things as difficult as possible.

“Need help with that?” she asks one day, her tone laced with fake sincerity as she watches you struggle to balance a tray of lab equipment.

“No, thanks,” you say curtly, not bothering to look at her.

“Suit yourself.” She shrugs, leaning back against the lab bench with a lazy grin.

Another day, she “accidentally” knocks over a bottle of water, splashing your notes in the process.

“Whoops,” she says, not looking the least bit sorry.

You scowl, grabbing a paper towel to mop up the mess. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re fun to mess with,” she says cheerfully, handing you another paper towel.

By Friday, you’re at your wit’s end. You’ve been ignoring her flirty remarks, dodging her attempts to get closer, and shutting down her teasing as quickly as possible. But no matter how much distance you try to put between you, she keeps finding ways to get under your skin.

It all comes to a head during lab when she decides to take over the experiment without asking.

“Vi,” you snap, watching in horror as she dumps half a bottle of reagent into the solution. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Helping,” she says with a grin, giving the beaker a little swirl.

“You’re going to blow us up.”

“Oh, relax. I’ve got it under control.”

You snatch the beaker out of her hands, glaring at her. “Stop messing around. This is serious.”

Her grin fades, and for the first time all week, she looks genuinely frustrated.

“Why are you so damn uptight all the time?” she asks, her tone sharper than usual. “It’s just a stupid lab. Lighten up.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t be so uptight if you actually took anything in your life seriously for once,” you shoot back.

The room goes quiet, the tension between you crackling like static electricity. Vi stares at you for a moment, her jaw tight, before grabbing her bag and storming out of the room.

~~~

It’s one of those days where everything feels off, like the world’s spinning just a little too fast, and you’re stuck in the middle, trying to catch your breath. You’ve been dodging Vi all week—more than usual—and it’s starting to catch up with you. The tension in chemistry lab, the way you both keep avoiding each other’s gazes, and her frustrated silence every time you shut her down.

So, when the bell rings for lunch, you’re quick to dart out of the classroom, your thoughts a little too loud and messy to focus on anything else. The back alley of the school’s the closest thing to peace you can get, and you sneak around the corner, lighter in hand, a cigarette already dangling from your lips.

It’s not like you’re trying to be reckless; you just need something to calm the nerves, to block out the chaos of the day. The air’s cold, biting at your skin, but you don’t care. You’ve been feeling like you’re on the edge lately, and the smoke? It’s the only thing that makes it feel a little better, even for a second.

You lean against the brick wall, exhaling the smoke slowly and watching it curl into the air. Your thoughts start to drift, but not for long.

You hear the footsteps before you see her. The telltale heavy thud of boots you’ve grown all too familiar with. You freeze, the cigarette halfway to your mouth, but it’s too late. Vi’s already rounding the corner, and you can’t just pretend you didn’t hear her.

“Nice spot,” she says, her voice low and teasing as she crosses her arms, leaning against the opposite wall. “Didn’t think you were the type to sneak away for a smoke break.”

You don’t answer right away, flicking the cigarette butt to the ground and stepping on it with more force than necessary. The last thing you need is to get caught, especially when she’s here.

“Can I help you?” you ask, your voice colder than you intended.

Vi just smirks, walking closer. “Yeah, actually. I’ve been wondering when you’d stop being such a pain in the ass.”

You roll your eyes, pushing past her toward the exit, but she’s quick—too quick—and she’s blocking your path before you can make it two steps.

“Not so fast.” Vi grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. “We need to talk.”

You stare at her, trying not to let the frustration you’ve been hiding all week show. You know where this is going. She always has a way of pushing when she wants something, and right now, it’s you. But you can’t give her what she wants—not when you’re still trying to figure out why she keeps coming back in the first place.

“I don’t think there’s anything to talk about,” you say, pulling your wrist out of her grip. “You should probably get going before you get caught.”

Vi isn’t backing down, though. She steps forward again, her eyes narrowing, her usual smirk gone. “You’ve been acting like a real dick lately, you know that? You’ve been pulling away from me, avoiding me, like I’ve got some kind of disease or something.”

You scoff, crossing your arms over your chest. “Maybe you should take the hint, then. I’m not some idiot you can just string along for fun.”

She steps even closer, her face now only inches from yours, her voice quiet but intense. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

You hesitate for a moment, biting your lip. The words are harder to say than you thought they’d be, but they’re there, pressing against your chest like a weight you can’t shake.

“Vi, I’m not like the other girls you mess with,” you finally mutter, avoiding her gaze. “I’m not someone you can just hook up with and forget about. I’m not… I’m not some notch on your belt, okay?”

Vi’s eyes soften for a second, and for the briefest moment, you almost believe she might understand. But then she scoffs, shaking her head.

“Is that what you think?” Her voice is laced with disbelief. “You think I’ve been—what? Playing with you this whole time?”

You shrug, trying to hide the hurt you’re suddenly feeling. “I don’t know, Vi. Maybe that’s just what you do. You get bored, and then you toss the girl aside. I’m not interested in being part of that.”

There’s a long pause, and for a second, you almost think she’s going to walk away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. But instead, she grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she says, her voice low and serious. “I wouldn’t have spent all this time with you if I didn’t give a shit.”

You stare at her, the words sinking in, but you can’t bring yourself to believe them. You want to. God, you want to. But there’s this nagging fear, this little voice in the back of your mind telling you that you’re just one more in a long list of girls who will end up discarded once she gets bored.

“I don’t need a pity party,” you mutter, shaking your head. “Just… leave me alone, Vi.”

You pull away from her, but Vi grabs your wrist again, this time with more force.

“Stop running,” she says, her tone harsh. “You think I’m just playing with you? You think I’m gonna toss you aside like that? After everything we’ve been through?”

You look at her, your chest tight with emotions you don’t want to deal with. “You’re not gonna change. You’re the same as all the others. You only want one thing, and then you’re done. So, no. I’m not doing this, Vi. Not with you.”

Her grip tightens, but she doesn’t say anything at first. It’s like she’s waiting for you to take it back, to say something that will make her think you’re not serious. But you don’t. You can’t. The fear of being just another girl who gets swept up and tossed away is too strong.

With a final, frustrated sigh, Vi releases your wrist, stepping back. “Fine. If that’s how you want it.”

You turn to leave, but then she calls out, her voice softer this time. “I’m serious about you, y’know. You don’t have to be scared of that.”

You don’t respond. You just keep walking, the weight of her words pressing down on you with every step. You try not to let it get to you, but damn, it does. You’re already second-guessing everything, wondering if maybe you’ve messed up by pushing her away.

But it’s hard to shake the feeling that, no matter what she says, you’re still just another girl who’ll get forgotten when she gets tired of you.

Later that night, you’re lying in bed, the room dark and silent, but your mind’s racing. Vi’s words echo in your head, over and over again: “I’m serious about you.”

You roll over, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with the emotions that have suddenly surged through you. You’ve always kept your guard up—kept yourself distant, safe from getting hurt. But now? Now you’re not sure if that’s even possible. You’ve pushed her away, but maybe… maybe you’re wrong about her. Maybe you’ve been looking for excuses to protect yourself instead of just taking the leap.

You can’t stop thinking about her. About what she said.

“Stop running.”

And for the first time in a long while, you’re not sure if running’s the right thing to do anymore.

~~~

You’ve just about had enough of the monotony of chemistry class when Vi slides into the seat next to you. Of course, she’s late—Vi always is. You try not to notice how she somehow manages to look effortlessly badass even in the midst of a boring class. Her magenta hair is a little messier today, a few strands of it falling over her sharp eyes, which glint mischievously. She sits down, slinging her bag onto the floor with a heavy thud.

“Yo,” she greets, her usual cocky smile plastered on her face as she casually throws a glance your way. “You ready to mix some shit that’ll probably blow up in our faces?”

You can’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you grab your lab materials. “You’re something else, Vi. Always ready to burn the school down.”

“Only if I’m bored,” she retorts with a wink. “So, how’s the chemistry of our little ‘thing’ going?”

Your heartbeat stutters a little as you meet her gaze. You know exactly what she’s talking about. Yesterday’s confrontation in the bathroom is still fresh in your mind. The look on her face as she cornered you… that spark of determination mixed with frustration, and the vulnerability that she tried to hide.

You try to shake the memories off as you start setting up your experiment. You can’t let it mess with your focus. Not now. Not here.

“I’ve been thinking,” you finally say, voice low enough to avoid attracting the teacher’s attention. Vi quirks an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as she catches the shift in your tone.

“Oh? What about?” she asks, her voice casual, but there’s a hint of interest beneath the surface.

You take a deep breath. “About what happened yesterday… in the alley. With me pulling away and all that.”

Vi’s eyes soften for a moment, her usual playful mask slipping. “Yeah?” She leans back in her chair, watching you carefully, as if waiting for you to say what’s been on your mind.

“I’ve thought about it a lot,” you continue, trying to keep the nerves at bay. “I’m not gonna lie—I’m scared, Vi. Scared of being just another girl you hook up with and toss aside like the rest. I’m not some notch on your bedpost, you know?”

There’s a pause as Vi stares at you, her gaze intense. The playful grin is gone, replaced with something more serious, something you weren’t expecting to see. The room feels a little colder as the silence stretches between you two.

“I get it,” she finally says, her voice a little quieter than usual. “I’ve fucked up, okay? I’m not proud of it. But that’s not what this is, not with you.”

You roll your eyes, half-expecting her to pull one of her cocky, smooth-talking moves. But when she meets your gaze, you see something in her eyes—something real.

“I’m not promising I’m perfect,” she adds, her hands resting on the edge of the table as if she’s about to lean in, to make her point. “But I’ll be damn sure I don’t make you feel like you’re just another hookup.”

You’re not entirely convinced. You take a long, slow breath, processing everything she’s said. Maybe she’s sincere. Maybe she’s not. You don’t know for sure, but you sure as hell aren’t about to let her off the hook so easily.

“Alright,” you say, looking her dead in the eyes. “I’ll give you a shot. But my rule still stands.”

Vi tilts her head, a glimmer of confusion crossing her face. “Rule?”

You nod, leaning in slightly, matching her gaze. “No sleeping with the player until you prove you’re not just some smooth-talking, good-for-a-few-quick-hits girl. You’re gonna have to earn my trust, Vi. And that doesn’t come easy.”

She grins then, wide and mischievous. The old Vi, the one you’re used to, comes flooding back in full force. “Oh, I like a challenge,” she smirks. “I’ll prove you wrong. You’ll be begging me to take you to bed before you know it.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s a warmth creeping up your neck. “We’ll see about that. But, no. I’m serious. You need to work for it. You need to show me you’re more than your reputation.”

Vi leans back in her seat, an exaggerated sigh escaping her lips. “Man, I gotta work harder than I thought. Guess I’ll just have to pull out the charm and start winning you over the old-fashioned way.”

“You better,” you tease, raising an eyebrow. “Otherwise, don’t expect to get anywhere near me.”

She laughs, a genuine sound that’s enough to make your heart skip a beat. She may have been a cocky asshole at first, but now, with her little grin and the spark in her eye, you’re starting to see that maybe, just maybe, she’s more than her rep. Maybe you’ve been too quick to judge her.

“Well, alright then,” she says, the confidence returning to her voice. “You’re on. And you’ll see, I’m not like the rest of them. I’m not just gonna walk away from this. I’m sticking around. So you better get used to me.”

You can’t help but feel a sense of relief. Maybe she’s right. Maybe you’re wrong. Maybe it’s time to let someone in.

The rest of the chemistry lab passes in a blur of Bunsen burners and half-hearted attempts at paying attention to the teacher. But through it all, Vi stays close. A little too close sometimes, but you don’t mind it. Her presence is comforting in a way that you didn’t expect.

At the end of class, as you and Vi gather your things, she bumps her shoulder against yours with a playful grin. “You’re gonna regret this,” she mutters, the challenge clear in her voice.

“I doubt it,” you retort, smiling back. “But you’re welcome to try.”

She winks, clearly enjoying the banter, and for a moment, you think that maybe you’ve made the right choice. Maybe this is worth the risk.

That night, as you lie in bed, you can’t stop thinking about what happened in class. Vi’s words, her challenge, her promise to prove herself—it’s all swirling around in your mind. You’ve given her a chance. You’ve made her earn it, and now it’s up to her to show you she’s more than just a hockey player with a reputation. It’s not just about the physical connection anymore. It’s about trust.

And for some reason, you’re starting to believe that she’ll prove you wrong.

~~~

You hadn’t expected to be here. In fact, you would’ve bet money that there was no way in hell Vi was actually asking for help. You’d seen her breeze through math assignments and talk her way out of any awkward situation without breaking a sweat, but here she was, standing at her front door with a crooked grin plastered on her face.

“You really want me to help you with this?” you asked, one eyebrow raised as you looked down at the crumpled piece of paper in her hand. The last thing you thought you’d be doing today was sitting in her living room, going over an English paper.

“Yeah,” Vi shrugged, her voice a little more sheepish than usual. “I can do math, gym, whatever, but English? Ugh. That shit’s hard. Besides, I heard you’re good at this stuff.” She grinned, obviously trying to play it off, but you could see the hint of genuine concern in her eyes.

“Sure, Vi,” you said with a smirk, pushing past her to step inside. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Vi’s house was a stark contrast to her bold personality—small, homey, and kind of messy, with a hint of charm. The place smelled like baked goods, and a couple of half-empty coffee mugs sat scattered across the kitchen counter. There was a comfortable chaos to it, a lived-in feeling that made you realize just how human she was underneath that tough exterior. The dark gray walls were decorated with mismatched frames, pictures of her and her friends laughing, her sister, Powder, posing next to a trophy Vi had probably won. You could see the pride in her eyes when she talked about her little sister.

“Alright, come on. Let’s get to it,” Vi said, plopping down on the couch and patting the seat next to her, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m trusting you not to make fun of me for my spelling mistakes.”

You threw her a skeptical look but sat next to her anyway. The couch creaked under your weight, and Vi shifted to get comfortable. “You’re lucky I’m doing this for you, Vi.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, pulling the paper closer. “Just get to it.”

You started reading through the paper, trying to suppress a chuckle at how bad it was. The content wasn’t horrible—it was clear she had a decent understanding of what she was writing about. But the grammar? God, it was a disaster.

“This isn’t a high school paper, Vi,” you said, glancing up at her. “It’s a goddamn warzone of commas and run-on sentences.”

She flopped back on the couch dramatically. “Hey, I didn’t pick this class. English is bullshit, anyway. What’s the point of all this crap? They want me to write essays about some old dead guys who probably didn’t even know how to spell.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, and despite yourself, you rolled your eyes. “Maybe if you took the class seriously, you’d pass without me holding your hand.”

She smirked, clearly unbothered. “Hey, I’ve got other talents.”

“Right,” you said sarcastically, pointing to the paper. “Like… this ‘talent’ of turning a page of words into a cluster of bad choices?”

“Shut up,” she grinned, nudging your shoulder with hers. “Just fix it, okay? I’m pretty sure you could get an A for me, and I can’t be bothered to put in all that work.”

You sighed, but a part of you was willing to help. Vi had this way of making you care more than you probably should. You leaned in, scratching out a few of the sentences, rearranging them, and fixing the punctuation like it was no big deal. As you worked, Vi leaned in too, hovering just a little too close for comfort. The occasional brush of her arm against yours made you hyperaware of her presence.

“So, what do you even do for fun when you’re not wrecking your body on the rink?” you asked, trying to keep the conversation light, even as the proximity between you two seemed to increase with every move.

Vi looked at you, her expression turning slightly softer. “I… well, I don’t know. Hockey’s pretty much my thing. I guess I do some shit like play video games with Powder and the guys when we’re not at practice.”

You paused, taking a second to really look at her. The tough, cocky exterior cracked just enough for you to glimpse the person underneath—the girl who was still figuring herself out, who probably felt like she had to put up walls to protect herself. She wasn’t just a jock or the “bad girl” everyone thought she was. No, she had layers.

“You’re a gamer, huh?” you asked with a raised brow. “What games?”

She grinned, her usual cockiness slipping back in place. “Not that you’d understand, but I’m all about the classics. Got an old-school console in my room. You ever played Crash Bandicoot?”

Your eyes widened. “The classic? Hell yeah, I love that game. What else do you play?”

Vi laughed, clearly amused. “You’re telling me you play the same stuff? What are you, a 90’s kid or something?”

“I am a 90’s kid,” you shot back, nudging her. “It’s all about the classics.”

“Damn, I gotta admit, that’s kind of cute.” Her voice was quieter now, almost teasing, as she bumped her shoulder against yours again. “Maybe we should play sometime.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You’ll have to beat me first.”

Her eyes lit up with the challenge, and for a moment, you both just locked gazes, the tension thick between you. She was still that cocky, determined girl who wouldn’t back down from anything, but now, you were starting to see the softer side of her—the one that liked the idea of playing games just for fun, the one that didn’t need to be the toughest girl in the room.

“Alright, alright, I’ll let you have that one,” she finally said, returning to her paper. “But I’m telling you, I’m winning next time.”

“Keep dreaming, Vi,” you teased as you finished up her paper, handing it back with a satisfied smile. “All done. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Vi grabbed the paper, her expression still full of playful cockiness, but there was something else in her eyes too. Something warmer. “Thanks, teacher. I guess you’re not totally useless after all.”

“Don’t get used to it,” you said, grinning. “I’m not helping you with the next one. You’ll have to figure that out yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage. You just wait,” she shot back, the flirtatious edge in her voice making your stomach flutter, just a little.

You both sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, each of you catching your breath, your shoulders still brushing lightly from time to time. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t casual, either. It was something in-between, and neither of you seemed eager to break the moment just yet.

“I’ll walk you out,” Vi said, standing up and stretching, her muscles rippling beneath her hoodie. She reached a hand out to help you up, her touch lingering just long enough to make you feel like there was more between you two than you were willing to admit.

As you both headed to the door, Vi stopped for a moment, looking back at you with a soft smirk. “You’re not half-bad, y’know?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Flirting with me now?”

She chuckled, her usual cocky self returning, but there was something in her smile that felt real, more genuine than it had in a long time. “Maybe. But you’ve still got a long way to go before you can outplay me. Just remember that.”

With a wink, she closed the door behind you, leaving you standing outside, the faintest smile on your face.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the hell was going on between you two. Vi wasn’t like anyone else you’d ever met. She was tough, cocky, and didn’t take shit from anyone. But maybe there was more to her than the surface you’d been seeing.

~~~

The week flew by faster than expected. Vi had kept her promise, sticking to her word about taking things slow and never pushing you beyond your comfort zone. There was a comfort in how she respected your boundaries, the way she seemed to instinctively know when to back off and when to push you just enough to make you want more. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, one built more on trust than anything else. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this comfortable around someone, especially someone like Vi.

The mornings were filled with casual hellos as you passed each other in the hallways, and the afternoons were spent hanging out at her place, doing everything from aimless walks around the neighborhood to sitting in her room, playing dumb games on your phones—like Roblox, of all things. It was ridiculous, but it worked. She’d distract you with her stupid jokes, and you’d laugh so hard your stomach ached. The time you spent together felt like a mix of pure chaos and unexpected moments of peace, and you didn’t want it to end.

One evening, it was just the two of you again, sprawled out on her bed, half-arguing about some random thing you were doing in the game. You weren’t even sure what you were doing anymore; the game was background noise to the vibe that was building between you both. Vi was lying on her back, one arm propped behind her head, eyes glued to her phone screen while you focused on your own. It wasn’t much, just you two existing in the same space. The air was thick with something that neither of you were acknowledging—yet.

“Yo, you’re really bad at this,” Vi teased, her voice rough and playful. You rolled your eyes, smacking her arm.

“Shut up, you’re just mad ‘cause I’m better than you.”

She snorted, flicking your forehead. “Not even. You’re just lucky.”

A beat of silence passed, and her eyes flicked over to you, the playful glint in her gaze turning into something softer. “You’re always so focused on your phone. Like, you never actually pay attention to me.”

You lifted your head, arching an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She smirked, her voice dipping lower, teasing. “You’re just distracted. It’s cute, though. But I guess I’ll have to make you pay attention.”

The atmosphere shifted, and it wasn’t because of anything she said. It was in the way she said it, the way her voice softened at the end, laced with a challenge you couldn’t ignore. You felt your heartbeat pick up, the tension hanging in the air, thick with unspoken words.

You opened your mouth to reply, but then Vi was suddenly closer, her phone tossed aside, her hand gently resting on your arm. The subtle touch made your breath hitch in your throat. You swallowed hard, but she was already leaning in, eyes flicking to your lips and back to your eyes.

There was no turning back. You didn’t want to turn back.

And then, she kissed you. Softly, tentatively at first, just a press of lips that sent sparks through your entire body. Her hand found your cheek, gently cupping it, as if trying to pull you deeper into the moment. You kissed her back, slower at first, just savoring the connection, the feel of her lips against yours, the taste of something sweet and unspoken.

But as soon as you let yourself sink into it, something shifted—something raw and desperate. She pulled you closer, her body leaning into yours, and you felt the heat between you both intensify. You had no idea how you ended up this close, how everything blurred into one single feeling. Her hands were everywhere, pressing into your back, your waist, and you could feel her heart beating against your chest.

When she pulled away just a little, her forehead resting against yours, the breathless space between you felt electrified. You didn’t speak, but the world was still spinning in that moment.

“I don’t know what this is,” you whispered, the words barely audible in the quiet space between you.

Vi’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Does it matter?” She pressed her lips to yours again, this time with a little more urgency, as if trying to communicate everything she couldn’t say.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and suddenly, everything seemed so much clearer. She was everything you didn’t expect, but everything you needed. And in that instant, you couldn’t fight it anymore.

“I—” you started, but your words were lost when her hand slid down your side, making your breath catch.

The truth hit you all at once.

You were tired of playing by the rules. Of being cautious. Of hiding behind walls you didn’t need. Vi had a way of knocking them down without even trying, and you wanted nothing more than to be close to her. She’d made the first move, and you weren’t going to pretend like you didn’t want it. You weren’t going to lie to yourself anymore.

“I think you’ve got me,” you murmured, a small, shaky laugh escaping your lips.

Vi pulled back just enough to look at you, her eyes searching yours, trying to make sure you were serious. “Yeah?”

Your chest tightened, your pulse racing, but this time, it was all excitement. “Yeah.”

And with that, she kissed you again, more fiercely this time, like she’d been waiting for you to catch up. You didn’t resist; you didn’t want to. And as the kiss deepened, you felt the last of your reservations slip away. You weren’t sure where this was going, but for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care. You were done pretending you didn’t want this. Done holding back.

You blinked at her, still reeling as she pulled back. “Vi…”

“Don’t overthink it,” she interrupted, brushing a strand of hair from your face. Her fingers lingered against your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. “Just…be here with me. Right now.”

It was a simple request, but it carried so much weight. This was Vi, after all—reckless and impulsive Breaking rules was practically her brand. And yet, despite her reputation, despite everything, you believed her.

So you nodded, and she smiled—a real smile, not her usual smirk. Then she kissed you again, slower this time, savoring the connection. Her hands slid around your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. One of her legs hooked over yours, anchoring you together, and you gasped into her mouth.

“Relax,” she murmured, her lips trailing along your jaw. “I’ve got you.”

The words sent a wave of heat through you, and you arched instinctively into her touch. Her hands roamed your back, fingers pressing into your skin as if mapping every curve. When they dipped lower, grazing the waistband of your jeans, you shuddered.

“Vi…” you breathed, your voice shaky.

She paused, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” she said, her tone serious despite the hunger in her eyes.

You shook your head quickly. “Don’t stop.”

That was all the encouragement she needed. Her lips crashed into yours again, fiercer this time, and her hands slid under your shirt, fingers skimming over your stomach. The sensation was electric, and you moaned softly against her mouth, your nails digging into her shoulders.

Vi chuckled, the sound deep and satisfied. “Thought you might like that,” she teased, nipping at your lower lip before sucking gently.

Your hips bucked involuntarily, and she groaned, grinding against you in response. The friction was maddening, leaving you desperate for more. You tugged at her tank top, needing to feel her skin against yours, and she obliged, pulling it off in one fluid motion.

The sight of her bare chest stole your breath. Her toned muscles gleamed in the dim light, every scar and bruise telling a story of its own. You reached out, tracing the line of her collarbone with trembling fingers, and she shivered under your touch.

“Fuck, your hands…” she muttered, closing her eyes briefly. Then she leaned in, capturing your lips once more as her own hands worked to remove your shirt and bra.

The cool air hit your skin, raising goosebumps, but Vi’s warmth chased them away. Her palms slid up your sides, cupping your breasts as she kissed down your neck. When her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, you gasped, your head falling back.

“God, you’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice thick with desire.

You couldn’t respond, too lost in the sensations rippling through you. Her tongue swirled over your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak, and you whimpered, your back arching off the bed.

“Vi, please…” you begged, though you weren’t even sure what you were asking for.

She seemed to understand anyway. Her hand slipped between your legs, rubbing slow circles over the fabric of your jeans. The pressure was delicious, and you rocked into her touch, chasing the pleasure building inside you.

“Is this what you need?” she asked, her voice husky.

You nodded frantically, unable to form words. She smirked, clearly pleased with herself, and unbuttoned your jeans with practiced ease. Her fingers hooked into the waistband, tugging them down along with your underwear, and the cool air against your heated skin made you gasp.

Vi knelt between your legs, her gaze raking over you with an intensity that made your stomach flip. “Look at you,” she breathed, her voice filled with awe. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Before you could respond, she lowered her head, her tongue swiping slowly up your folds. The sensation was almost too much, and you cried out, your hands tangling in her hair.

“Shh,” she soothed, glancing up at you with a wicked grin. “Relax. Let me take care of you.”

And then she dived in, her tongue circling your clit with expert precision. You writhed beneath her, clutching the sheets as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Her name spilled from your lips in a broken chant, each syllable trembling with need.

Vi alternated her movements, switching between fast, flickering strokes and slow, deliberate ones, keeping you teetering on the edge. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, she slid two fingers inside you, curling them just right and hitting that spot that made stars explode behind your eyes.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“That’s it,” Vi encouraged, her voice muffled against you. “Come for me, baby.”

The command shattered whatever restraint you had left. Your orgasm ripped through you, blinding and all-consuming, and you bucked wildly against her mouth, your cries echoing through the room.

Vi stayed with you through every wave, her tongue and fingers working tirelessly until you finally collapsed, boneless and spent. She crawled up your body, planting soft kisses along your stomach and chest before reclaiming your lips.

~~~

You didn’t sleep much that night. The buzz of Vi’s touch, her lips on yours, was still alive on your skin as you lay there, replaying every moment over and over. You’d finally given in, allowed yourself to trust, and now, the morning after, you were left with the consequences.

The most obvious consequence? The cluster of hickeys on your neck, dark red marks that stood out against your skin like graffiti on a clean wall. You didn’t even realize they were there at first. The heat of the moment had distracted you, and by the time you noticed, there wasn’t much you could do about it. Covering them up with makeup wasn’t an option, so you were left with a bad case of “wear your mistakes like a badge of honor” as you scrambled to throw on a hoodie and pray no one would notice.

But, of course, they did.

As you walked through the hallways of the school, you could practically feel the eyes of your classmates on you. The whispers were subtle at first, but you heard them all. “Look at her neck… is that… is she…?” It didn’t take much to piece together what they were talking about. You hated the attention. Hated how exposed you felt, like everyone could see right through you. And it wasn’t even just the rumors you were worried about—it was the thought of Vi.

What if she didn’t care about this, about you?

You barely made it to your first class before someone asked, “Did you get jumped last night or something?” That stupid, offhand comment sent your nerves into overdrive. Of course, you laughed it off, trying to act like it was no big deal, but inside, you were panicking.

And then there was Vi.

Her presence was like a weight on your chest, but you couldn’t escape it. You spotted her in the hallway between classes, her signature cocky smirk on display, as if she hadn’t a care in the world. She leaned against the locker like she owned the place, her muscles flexing underneath her hoodie. The crowd around her parted like the Red Sea, as it always did. You felt your stomach twist.

The moment your eyes met, she grinned. The mischievous glint in her eye was there, always there, but this time there was something else in it too—a challenge, maybe. A wink, and then she pushed off the locker to walk toward you, the smirk never leaving her lips.

You felt the heat rise in your face as she got closer, but you tried to stay cool. It wasn’t like you didn’t know what she was doing. Vi loved the effect she had on people, the way her mere presence could make anyone feel like they were under a magnifying glass. She was confident, magnetic, but right now, you couldn’t help but feel like you were in over your head.

“You look good today,” she said, her voice low and teasing, completely unfazed by the hickeys on your neck.

You blinked, caught off guard by the casualness of her tone. It didn’t seem like she was embarrassed. You, on the other hand, wanted to crawl into a hole and die. “Uh, thanks,” you mumbled, your eyes darting nervously around, trying to gauge how people were reacting.

Vi didn’t follow your gaze. Her hand found its way to your shoulder, fingers brushing against the fabric of your hoodie, and for a split second, you felt the world fade away. But only for a second. The whispers were still there, and you could feel the weight of their judgment.

“Everything okay?” Vi asked, her eyes narrowing with concern. “You seem kinda tense today. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, unsure of how to explain the chaos in your mind. “It’s nothing. Just—” You gestured vaguely at your neck. “People are noticing.”

Vi’s smirk softened into something more like amusement, but there was a flicker of something else behind her eyes, something you couldn’t quite read. “So what? Let ‘em talk. They’re just jealous.”

“Jealous?” You scoffed. “Of what, exactly?”

She shrugged, unfazed by your sarcasm. “You’re mine. And they can see it. So, if they wanna talk, let ‘em talk.”

That should’ve been enough to ease your nerves. After all, Vi was the star athlete, the girl everyone wanted to be. She was used to attention. She was used to being the one people ogled. You, on the other hand, were the complete opposite—awkward, quiet, out of place in this chaotic world. You couldn’t shake the feeling that your insecurities were written all over your face.

Vi, as if sensing your hesitation, stepped in closer, her hand brushing against the small of your back as she leaned in slightly, her lips just brushing your ear. “I don’t give a shit what anyone else thinks, babe,” she whispered. “This thing between us? It’s between us. Got it?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest. You knew she meant it. Vi always meant what she said—when she cared about something, she went all in. It was just hard to reconcile that with the way you felt about yourself.

You weren’t like her. You weren’t the center of attention, the girl everyone was drawn to. You were the opposite—the quiet one, the one who spent more time in her head than engaging with the world around her.

Vi was everything you weren’t, but maybe that was what made it work. She had this confidence that practically radiated off of her, and it felt like she was constantly pulling you into her orbit, making you feel like you could be confident, too, even if it was only for a moment.

But deep down, you still couldn’t shake the question: Did she actually want to make this public?

Did she want to be with someone like you, someone who was so different from her? Or was this just another one of her flings, something she’d eventually tire of, leaving you with the pieces of your broken heart?

Before you could dwell on it any longer, Vi leaned back, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips as she straightened up. “You’re overthinking it, babe. Relax. I’ve got you.”

You didn’t feel entirely reassured, but you didn’t have the time to question her further. As much as you wanted to have a heart-to-heart, as much as you needed to know what this really was, the bell rang. Vi gave you a playful shove toward your next class, the kind of shove that told you everything was fine—at least, for now.

~~~

The moment you step through the cafeteria doors, you spot Vi. She’s leaning against the wall with her usual cocky grin plastered on her face, but she’s not just waiting for you. No, she’s got something planned. Something big.

You try to avoid her gaze, but it’s impossible. She’s got that confidence that fills up a room like it owns the place. You swear she has a magnet in her chest that just pulls all eyes to her. And today? Today it’s your turn. You’re stuck in her orbit whether you like it or not.

You try to focus on something, anything, but Vi’s energy is infectious, like a wildfire spreading through the room. And then, it happens.

Without warning, she’s up on top of the lunchroom table, eyes sparkling with mischief as the entire cafeteria quiets down. People start whispering, murmuring about what the hell is going on, but it doesn’t matter. Vi’s got the room’s attention, and she’s loving every second of it.

You’re already cringing, knowing what’s coming. You should’ve expected it. She stands tall, one hand holding a massive poster, the other in the air like she’s about to give a speech.

And then, she says it.

“Hey, (Y/N),” she yells, making sure every person in the room can hear her. “It would be pucking awesome if you’d go to prom with me!”

Your heart nearly stops in your chest. Oh, god. No. This cannot be happening.

The poster reads exactly as she said, written in bold, bright letters: It would be pucking awesome if you go to prom with me with the last words underlined for dramatic effect. And just to make it even worse, the entire girls’ hockey team is behind her, dressed in their jerseys, grinning like maniacs. Some of them are even clapping, egging Vi on, while others are cheering and whooping.

The entire room goes completely still. Not a single sound can be heard, except for your pulse in your ears. You can feel the heat rush to your face as you shrink back, desperately trying to hide behind the nearest lunch table. You’re mortified. Absolutely mortified.

Vi jumps down from the table, her boots making a satisfying thud as they hit the ground. She’s strutting toward you like she owns the place, and you can barely breathe as she reaches into her bag. She pulls out a single flower, a bold, red rose, and hands it to you with that same unbothered grin.

It’s cheesy. It’s ridiculous. It’s… Vi.

“Uh, yeah,” she says, voice low but still carrying over the murmurs of the crowd. “That’s for you, (Y/N). Prom? With me?”

You just stare at her, completely dumbfounded. What the hell is she thinking? What is this? Is she serious? Because if she is, this is… this is a level of public embarrassment you’re not sure you can handle.

“Vi!” you hiss, eyes darting around the room as you clutch the flower in your hand. “What the hell was that? In front of all these people? Are you trying to make me die of embarrassment?”

She shrugs casually, not even fazed by the attention. “What’s the big deal? I like you. I want you to go to prom with me. Why should I hide it?”

You want to yell at her. You really do. The way she’s acting like this is no big deal only makes it worse. But her tone, her sincerity—fuck, why does it make your heart race in a way that makes no sense?

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” she continues, not even looking around at the still-staring crowd. She’s unapologetic, completely unbothered. “You and me? We’re a thing. And I’m gonna let everyone know.”

“You can’t be serious right now,” you mutter, still trying to process the overwhelming chaos of it all. “This is insane.”

“I am serious,” she says, and her smile softens just a little. “You’ve got to stop worrying about what other people think, (Y/N). It’s us. That’s all that matters.”

You glance at her, unsure of what to make of the vulnerability in her eyes. It’s a side of her you don’t often see, especially not in the midst of all the attention. And then it hits you—maybe, just maybe, this isn’t just some stupid joke to her. She’s actually trying to do something real. She wants you. She wants this to be something more.

“Vi, this isn’t funny,” you say quietly, feeling the weight of everyone’s stares on you. “You can’t just… throw this out there like it’s nothing.”

She steps closer, her grin widening again, that playful glint returning to her eyes. “Yeah, well, if it makes you feel better, I’ll be your personal spotlight for the rest of the day,” she teases, nudging your shoulder with her.

You want to tell her to stop, to get away from the center of attention, but your chest tightens. The thing is, as much as you hate the spectacle of it all, there’s a part of you—deep down—that’s actually touched by her boldness. She wants you, and she doesn’t care who knows about it.

For all her cockiness and bravado, she’s laying it all out there, no apologies, no hesitation.

You glance down at the flower in your hand, the red petals standing out against your clammy palm. You wish you could just disappear, but Vi’s there, looking at you with that grin that somehow manages to make you feel like the only person in the room.

“Okay, okay,” you mutter, trying to keep the nerves from taking over your voice. “I’ll go to prom with you. But you owe me for the public humiliation, alright?”

Vi laughs, loud and unrestrained, before she leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, a brief, soft thing that makes your knees weak. “Deal,” she says with that characteristic grin of hers. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

And despite the chaos, despite the fact that you just agreed to go to prom with the school’s biggest attention magnet, part of you already knows that it’s going to be fucking awesome.

~~~

The evening air is crisp as you stand at the front door, waiting. Your heart is pounding, and no amount of deep breaths is making it better. You’ve been nervously fidgeting for the last hour, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You’ve never been one for big events like this—prom was always something that seemed… unreachable, too perfect. But tonight? It’s not some fantasy. It’s real. You’ve got a hot date who happens to be a badass hockey player with a reputation that could make a lot of people sweat.

You adjust your outfit for the tenth time, just to be sure everything’s in place. Your dress hugs you in all the right places, the color matching the shade of your nervous but excited heart. Your makeup is flawless, you think. And you’re not going to be intimidated by the idea of being next to her. Vi.

Then you hear it—the soft crunch of gravel under tires. You step toward the door, just in time for the doorbell to ring, and you swing it open with a quick breath. And there she is.

Vi. Standing there like she owns the fucking world.

She’s dressed in a tailored suit, the fabric dark and sleek, hugging her athletic frame perfectly. Her hair is slicked back, the magenta strands impossibly smooth, leaving her face more defined, sharper than usual. Her piercing gray eyes meet yours as she takes you in, and for a moment, it feels like everything around you stops. The world might as well be holding its breath for this one moment. You know, for damn sure, she’s doing the same.

“You look… fuckin’ amazing,” she says, voice low, yet the smile playing on her lips says everything.

You blink, trying to collect your thoughts. “So do you,” you manage to say, voice tight with nerves you can’t seem to shake.

Her eyes scan you again, softer this time. “I meant it. Damn, you look so good I’m gonna have a hard time not showing you off tonight.”

Your stomach flutters at her words, but you quickly shove the sensation down. “Shut up. You’re the one who’s gonna make everyone jealous, aren’t you?” you tease, glancing at her with raised brows. You’re not wrong, though. Everyone will be staring at her tonight. That much is inevitable.

Vi steps closer, her body heat hitting you like a wave. “They can stare all they want,” she grins, her voice teasing, yet there’s something in her eyes that’s different—something that tugs at your heart. “But you’re the only one I’m interested in tonight.”

That makes your breath catch.

Before you can say anything else, she offers her arm, a smirk still tugging at the corner of her lips. “C’mon, we’ve got a night to ruin. Let’s go show ‘em how it’s done.”

The ride to prom is a blur of music, half-nervous laughter, and teasing jabs at each other. Vi is impossibly calm, while you feel like a nervous wreck. There’s something about her presence that steadies you, but still, it’s hard to shake the feeling of all eyes on the two of you. But when you arrive, it’s even worse.

The entrance is lined with other couples and singles, all eager to get their first glimpse at the night’s main event. You and Vi walk in, and the moment you cross the threshold, it’s as if the entire room turns to look at you. You can feel every eye on you—mostly on Vi, but you can feel the weight of their stares on you, too.

Vi’s hand is warm and firm against your back, guiding you through the crowd. She doesn’t seem phased by the attention. In fact, she’s loving it. And you can’t help but feel this ridiculous rush—this unexplainable burst of confidence just by standing next to her.

The two of you make your way to the dance floor. The music’s loud, the beat thumping under your feet, and Vi’s grip on you tightens as she pulls you toward her. “Let’s make this night ours,” she says, and her voice is rough with excitement.

You both get into the rhythm, bodies moving to the beat. You find yourself laughing at how easy it is, how the entire room could fall away and it wouldn’t matter. It’s just you and Vi. And for the first time in your life, it feels like you actually belong. You stop worrying about everything and just… feel. Her hands rest on your waist, pulling you closer, her breath warm against your cheek.

You don’t even notice the other couples around you until a loud cheer erupts from Vi’s friends. You glance around, and your heart almost skips a beat—Vi has pulled you in for a kiss in the middle of the dance floor, as casual as breathing. Her lips are soft, yet demanding, her hands firm but gentle as they hold you close.

The crowd’s not shy about making noise. Whistles. Clapping. A few of her teammates shout, “About time!” and the rest of them burst into applause, making you feel like the whole world is in on this moment.

But then it’s just you and her again.

Vi pulls back, her grin as cocky as ever, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re incredible,” she murmurs, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. Her thumb gently caresses your cheek. You can feel the weight of her words, the sincerity behind them, and it hits you—this night is more than just a celebration. She’s here. For you. And there’s no doubt in your mind that she’s serious about it.

You smirk, giving her a playful shove. “You better stop, you’re gonna make me blush.”

Vi laughs, pulling you closer again, resting her chin on your shoulder. “Let ‘em look. They’re jealous. No one’s gonna have a night like this. It’s ours, babe.”

Later, after the music has died down, and most of the students are either too drunk or too tired to keep going, you and Vi slip away from the chaos. You find a quiet spot outside, away from the flashing lights and the sound of laughter.

The night sky is clear, the stars shining brightly above you. You sit down on the grass, your legs outstretched as you lean back to look at the constellations. Vi sits next to you, her hand brushing against yours.

#arcane #vi imagines #vi headcanons #violet arcane #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi x reader #vi arcane #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #high school #highschool au #jock #highschool jock X reader

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shixcherie · 2 months ago

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🏴‍☠️ ATEEZVerse ☆

Hey! ma cherie. Welcome to my official Ateez's masterlist.All of my oneshots, reactions, thrists/drabbles and series will be here. Eat 'em up.

STARTED ON : 1st oct'24 | LAST UPDATED : 10 dec'24 | FIC COUNTER : 30

↬ 8 MAKES 1 TEAM ~ OT8 HEADCANONS ↫

coming soon...

↬ POLYTEEZ (two or more members) ↫

Damsel In Stress : When your bodyguards, devilishly handsome and undeniably sexy, promise you a night to remember, you take it all in stride. Whether it’s bending the rules or indulging in steamy shower sex, you’re ready to embrace the thrill, surrendering yourself completely to the experience. {YunGi Bodyguards Au}

King, Queen & The Rose : In the adrenaline-fueled realm of Formula 1, you finds herself drawn to the mysterious "The Rose" despite having your boyfriend San. A steamy night sparks brings confessions, undeniable chemistry and chaos. Will you choose your King or the Rose ? Or Both ? {SanHwa F1 Racers Au}

Sharing Is Caring : After hearing his precious angel struggling with loneliness in his absence, Hongjoong suggest a solution. That solution is Park Seonghwa.Will he be your one-stop remedy, or will someone become possessive along the way? {SeongJoong Idols Au}

Can We Keep Her ? : What started as a cheeky game of playful hacking quickly turned into a nightmare as you found yourself trapped by the most feared mafia gang in town. With your survival hinging on successfully completing your first mission, you begin to warm up to your teammates, San and Wooyoung. Will this be where it ends, or could you end up being claimed by the entire group ? {WooSan Mafia Au}

Hit After Hit : As you're cooped up in stress while working on ATEEZ's title track, your bestie Wooyoung suggests a little game. Yunho and Mingi join in on the fun, helping to take your stress away while you cook up a banger title track for ATEEZ’s comeback. {YunGi Idols Au}

Reel Or Real : Dressed up as Elena, with Jongho and Yeosang as Damon and Stefan for the Halloween shoot, you wonder if the lines between reel and real might blur as the three of you decide to wind down in the vocal room after the hectic shoot. {JongSang Idols Au}

Mutual Midnight Madness : After a hectic day at work, you decide to hop on a video call with your boyfriends, Yeosang, Wooyoung, and San. A special gift from San becomes your source of joy, while the boys keep you entertained all night. {WooSanSang Idols Au}

Whose The Boss, Babe ? : In the boardroom, you are the BOSS fighting to secure the best deals for your beloved idols. But behind closed doors, in the comfort of your bed when your three dashingly handsome and irresistibly sexy lovers San, Yunho, and Wooyoung shower you with all their love. Then, the tables turn. They become the BOSSES, and you’re their BABE. {YunWooSan Idols Au}

↬ ONESHOTS ↫

☆ HONGJOONG ☆

Bathbombs & Little Deaths : What do bath bombs and little deaths (orgasms) have in common? When they burst, the aftermath is heavenly and ultra soothing. And HongJoong is here to give you both. Will you survive what Joongie has planned for you in the warmth of the bathtub, or experience a little death in the process? {Boyfreind Au}

Sweet Like A Cherry : A birthday fling takes a shocking twist when you discover the man,Hongjoong you had a lil too much fun with is your dad’s best friend, and now you're stuck together on a family yatch with him with undeniable tension. {Dilf Au}

Who’s Gonna Tell Her ? : After a grand festival, a blissful night of Phoenix Kingdom’s rice wine, and sweet encounters with Prince Hongjoong, will you, the Dragon Princess, be able to resist him or will you surrender completely as he takes your innocence? Is this the end, or are wedding bells about to ring? {Royal Au}

☆ SEONGHWA ☆

Love Is Blind, Truely : Blindfolded adventures with Seonghwa, especially in the city of love, could turn out to be this pleasurable, something you never expected. So many firsts on this trip, from the veil to anal, both of your pleasures knew no limits. {Boyfreind Au}

Finally Found You : Seonghwa finally found you and have no intention of letting you go ever. Childhood friends meeting after ten years, a wild night with some cold ice while you explore each other’s temprature.What more could you ask for ? {Childhood Friend Au}

Got My Eyes On You : A reckless, spooky game on Halloween night traps Seonghwa in vivid, sinful dreams of a seductive succubus, leaving him breathless and wanting more. But when he finds himself alone in a love hotel in Japan, staring up at you, the irresistible creature of his fantasies that is when he realizes his darkest dreams are about to come true, as reality and desire collide in one unforgettable night. {Succubus Au}

☆ YUNHO ☆

Switch Me Up Like Nintendo : Riling Yunho up has its dangerous consequences, but you can't resist the thrill, especially when you know his rewards will leave you craving more. Angry Yunho = GodMode unclocked! {Gamer BF Au}

Oh Ma Chérie : Yunho loves your doll-like eyes filled with tears, and you decide to give him exactly that, knowing it drives him wild. You were supposed to catch up after two years, but all you could catch was your breath with his long, thick cock in your mouth. {Neighbour Au}

Chemistry Better Than Chemistry : They say your chemistry with Yunho is better than any experiment in the lab, yet all you two do is fight. But with your research paper publication hanging in the balance, a kiss to shut him up, and a wild night in the lab… are these enemies about to become lovers? {Lab Partner Au}

Gonna Make You Rock Hard : Under dim lights and the cover of a masquerade party, you’re alone with Yunho, the man you’ve been craving all night, with only one rule: the mask stays on. What starts as a playful bet with Wooyoung soon turns into a sultry, forbidden encounter behind closed doors, where every whispered word and heated touch makes the stakes feel deliciously higher. {Stranger in the bar Au}

☆ YEOSANG ☆

Took Me To The Stars : Yeosang’s fantasies run wild, from wanting to show you the stars to having passionate sex in theater costumes. It all begins with you helping him ease his tension, but leaves him craving more of you. A deal is struck, promising a night filled with lust, an offer you would never want to pass up. {Theatre Actor Au}

Lust At First Bite : Yeosang didn’t wish for this, but transforming you was the only way to snatch you from the fangs of death. But is he regretting his decision as he takes you deep in front of the huge mirror in his study? Not a single bit. {BestFriend Au}

☆ SAN ☆

This Kitten Purrs : When tension runs high and nothing seems to work, you decide to throw one final bait for your roommate San to take, enlightening him of your desires. This time, he actually takes it, reciprocating with equal passion and intensity. Game night turns into a wild night of intense pleasure—riding thighs with hands and mouths everywhere, making this kitten purr. {Roommate Au}

I Really Like Your Body : A private gym room, an irresistibly handsome personal trainer named San with his unsatible hunger to take you right then and there and a promise to show you the heights of ecstasy. Will you surrender to the temptation ? {Personal Trainer Au}

☆ MINGI ☆

Best Student Ever : If Mingi had to describe you in two words, they’d be unpredictable and heavenly. After all, who shows up unannounced and sucks the life out of him, doing it exceptionally well? Only his best student. {Professor Au}

Gut Feelings Got Me Here : As a princess, you were not accustomed to hearing “No” from anyone in the kingdom. That changed when you had your first encounter with Mingi, the royal sculptor, whose silent, mysterious, and dark personality drew you in like a curious kitten. Will curiosity kill this kitten, or will a love so powerful emerge from all the painfully pleasurable “torture” that even death itself would be moved aside ? {Royal Sculptor Au}

☆ WOOYOUNG ☆

Rum To My Whiskey : He called you the rum to his whiskey, his partner in crime and his best friend. All it took was a few shots, a risky bet, and a night of unexpected passion to tear down those walls. Best friends won’t be best friends after this wild night, I guess. {BestFriend Au}

Sweet Candid Saturdays : Associating with notorious photographer, Wooyoung was bad news, you knew that clearly. But after experiencing the magic his fingers could work inside you, you couldn't help but want more. So, you decided to step into Wooyoung’s world, unaware of the scandals that were about to follow. {Photographer Au}

No More Keep Control : What happens when you and your darling employee, Wooyoung decide to indulge in a sweet office romance, with no more keeping control ? {Office Au}

☆ JONGHO ☆

I Love You 3000 : A lap dance can do a lot of things. It could bring Jongho running to your door, drenched in rain just for a taste of you. {Lawyer Au}

Bunny Card Never Declines : After a messy breakup, Jongho seeks comfort in a charming bunny, unaware of the surprises ahead. Will this new pet awaken desires that blur the lines between affection and temptation? {Bunny Hybrid Au}

His Favorite Problem : In the middle of the bar’s chaos, Jongho’s protective instincts kick in as he spots you. But instead of showing gratitude, you can’t resist stirring him up a little too much. Now, he’s set on teaching you a lesson, and you’re in for a long night of delicious discipline from your boyfriend. {Possesive Bf Au}

↬ THIRTS/DRABBLES ↫

coming soon...

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seongclb · 2 years ago

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CUPID’S MISTAKE ! sim jaeyun

♫ crybaby by the neighbourhood

SYNOPSIS. you’ve never understood why he gets so many dates all the time, he’s bloody insufferable. you can’t stand him at all, yet everyone else is crazy for him. i guess, you’ll find out what’s so irresistible about himself, soon. after all, he’s planning your valentines date together already.

PAIRING. playboy!enha x reader, slight enemies to lovers au, angst & fluff.

WARNINGS. cursing, suggestive ish make outs but they’re not that bad & jake being MEANNN.

WORD COUNT. almost 9k (8,976)

N. hi guys it’s finally out! member reveal omg !! feel like this fic could have been way better but i promise to make the next not as rushed and rubbish :( lmk what u guys think thoughhh .. also big thank you to @dazed-hee for beta reading :)

TAGLIST. @delcakoo2 @flwrshee @woon2u @rikizm @luckyowl @luvistqrzzz @mrchweeee @seungiesluv @x-mbl

1. I THINK I TRY TOO HARD.

You always hated the first days of school, but for some reason, they had always summed up your year perfectly. Something about them was always so exciting.

Every first day of school for four years now, you started your day with a Starbucks accompanied by your best friends: Yunjin and Taehyun. The sweet taste of the coffee greeting your tastebuds first thing in the morning paired with your - somewhat - lovely best friends. They spent the entire morning bickering, but still, it was a pleasant start to the morning.

Entering the school gates, you heard Yunjin beside you say, “Guys, get a good look. This is the last first day of high school we’re going to have.”

Taehyun rolls his eyes, “Literally makes no difference at all. We’ll see this shithole for another year.”

“Do you always have to contradict what I say?” She huffs to which Taehyun happily nods and you laugh at the entire situation.

“What lesson do you all start with?” You ask. “I have Chemistry with Mr Kim.”

“Same,” your friends say in unison, so you make your way to Chemistry, listening intently to the bickering that continues.

Straight away, your teacher puts you in a seating plan, despite the many complaints against it. You get placed at the back corner, the seat beside you remaining empty for now while Yunjin sits a few rows ahead of you to your left and Taehyun sits one seat ahead of you.

Quickly, the class begins to get full but your eyes linger on a certain nuisance strutting into the classroom.

Mr Kim informs him of his seat, which he begins striding to in his tampered version of the school’s uniform that everyone seems to think looks “cool”. Only until he stands right beside you do you realise that his seat is the one right next to you.

“Hi partner,” Jake smiles at you, before taking a seat.

“There has to be some kind of mistake,” You say, raising your hand to protest against this act of horror.

Jake brings his own hand up to pull yours down, “You know how Mr Kim is, he’ll assign you a detention if you make a fuss. He’s short tempered, I learnt that the hard way so trust me.”

You pull your arm away from Jake’s hold, “He’s short tempered with students like you, not honour students like me.”

“Okay, snobby much. You’ll have to lose that characteristic of yourself if you wanna be friends. Or more?” He winks at you, causing your face to deform in disgust.

Jake laughs at the way you cross your arms, “Relax, Jaeyun. I have no interest in you.”

“We’ll see.”

The rest of the lesson is spent working with Jake rather than working against him, since he’s good at Chemistry, which isn’t a surprise as you were aware that science was his strong suit.

The only issue is the amount of jokes he’s made about you and him having Chemistry; they just get worse every single time, too.

“See you on Wednesday, Y/n,” Jake smiles at you. Seeing the way his lips curl into a sweet smile forces you to smile back at him even if it’s against your will, but you catch yourself rather quickly and scoff at him before leaving with your friends.

Yunjin and Taehyun drag you to your usual bench in the school, forcing you to take a seat as they also take a seat to sit in front of you and immediately begin questioning you.

Yunjin is the first to start, “Wow, Y/n. After years of judging me for finding Jake attractive, here you are flirting with him the whole lesson.”

“I was not!” You exclaim in disbelief.

Taehyun slings an arm around your shoulder, “Y/n, I sit in front of you. I heard all of the jokes he made.”

“Yeah, then you also heard the way I told him to be quiet after every single one of his corny ass jokes. He’s a little shit.”

“A little shit who has you wrapped around his finger already,” Yunjin and Taehyun high five.

“I never thought Jake would be the reason why you two are agreeing for once,” You say. “In all honesty, looks and science are his only strong points which is why he uses them for his personal gain. The amount of hearts he’s probably broken in the space of two weeks is probably more than people I’ve ever spoken to in my entire life.”

Contradicting their previous statements, your two best friends nod at this and cease their teasing because it was true, Jake was too much of a flirt. He’s always had that reputation about him; the one where his choice of words can make anyone swoon for a while, until he’s bored of them. Especially if he uses that smile of his, he could get away with anything.

But not with you. You weren’t like that. Not the type to be swayed by his antics.

Perhaps, it was because school had always been your main priority so you never really had time to be distracted by guys like Jake and now that it was your senior year, there definitely wasn't enough time to get distracted by Jake. He just wasn’t worth it.

Or so you thought.

You found now that Jake would always be sitting in his seat before you in Chemistry, greeting you with that smile of his every single time, and even going as far as pulling out your chair for you just like a gentleman would.

“Save it, Jaeyun. We all know that being a gentleman isn't your thing.”

“Of course it is. How do you think I get all the women to fall for me?” He has a response for everything.

“Well, that definitely won't happen this time, Jaeyun,” you remark, smiling teasingly at him.

He pauses for a moment which causes you to look at him - he wasn't the type to pause after something like that.

Jake has a smirk plastered on his lips, “No one else calls me Jaeyun. Why do you call me that?”

With a sigh, you respond, “Because, I know all your playthings call you that, so it would seem inappropriate to call you the name that they do, as I definitely am not one of your playthings.”

He simply just laughs and calls you a nerd under his breath.

“Have you heard about the cupid thing that’s going to happen?” He asks you.

It was called the Cupid Fantasy Draft and it was all Yunjin could talk about for the last three days. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was an odd occasion that your classmates were organising in which there would be students paired together and they would go on dates and stuff for the entire year. You thought it was a silly idea as it was basically forcing people to date, but Yunjin argued that it was a good idea since people could get to know others easier. You didn't argue with it that much since you knew you wouldn't get picked.

“Yes, I have. Stupid idea.”

Jake groans, “Do you have to be so boring all the time? Have some fun once in a while. You never know, you might get picked.”

This causes you to pry yourself away from your books to look at Jake with a stare that seems to catch him off guard.

“Even if someone is dumb enough to pick me, they can’t force me to go to it.”

Once again, he responds to you with, “We’ll see. Did you know that this cupid date is also your valentine? So you don't have to worry about being lonely on Valentine's day like you always have been!”

“Ha ha,” You mock. “Are you even doing this thing?”

“Of course.”

You laugh, “This doesn’t seem like your type of thing. Isn’t this too restricting for you?”

A deep frown washes his face, “What do you mean by that?”

“Aren’t you used to dating two people a day? Why the sudden change of heart?”

Jake shrugs, “Maybe, I’ve met someone.”

To this, you feel a small hit to your chest at the thought of Jake with someone else but you easily brush it off, “Yeah, right.”

What the hell was that?

At lunch, your friends are conversing about the Cupid Fantasy Draft happening later that evening - just like they have been for days now - while your nose is buried into a romance book to make up for the ever so slight damage to your heart in Chemistry. The aim of the romance novel was to remind you that Jake Sim was not worth being hurt over, and instead the fictional character showering his beloved in endless amounts of affection was causing you to swoon.

You’re pulled away from your fictional fantasy by a voice calling you, “Y/n! I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Jake stands behind you, with Sunghoon and Jay to his side, sending you friendly smiles.

“What do you want, Jaeyun?”

He holds out a familiar pen. It was one of your favourite pens, designed with a bear and had a sweet scented smell to add to the speciality of the pen.

“How did you get this?” you attempt to snatch it away, but Jake is quick to snatch it back.

“I took it in Chemistry, it looked cute,” He smiles and brings it up to his face to smell it. “Smells nice, too.”

“Very funny. Give it back, now. That’s my favourite pen.”

He shakes his head, mockingly, “It can’t be your favourite if you didn’t even notice I took it.”

You huff in annoyance, “That’s because I was rushing to get out of the class so I could get away from you.”

Jake jokingly puts his hand on his chest and rubs it to pretend he’s in pain due to your comment, before placing the pen in his pocket, “I’m sure you’ll be fine for a few hours without it. Come to the Fantasy Draft and you’ll get it back.”

Not missing the opportunity to wink flirtatiously, he turns on his heels with his friends and leaves.

Your protests against the event had no effect on your friends, who dragged you out of the comforts of your bedroom, completely wasting your perfect night of studying. Yunjin even went to the effort of picking out an outfit for you and tricking you into putting it on by pretending she needed inspiration of her own.

“If I come to this thing and none of you get picked, I’m going to lose my shit,” You warn as you walk up to the door of the house that it was taking place at. “Whose place even is this?”

Your question is answered by an immediate swing of the front door opening, revealing Jay in black jeans and a cream jumper.

It was nice to see him in a different colour for once. It made sense that this was his home - you noticed the Porsche parked in the driveway along with the three story house.

“Hey, come in,” He says, leading you through the house, “It’s about to start, so you’re on time.”

Your eyes search Jay’s large mansion looking house until they meet a familiar individual.

You take notice of the girl sitting at his side, recognising her from walking around the hallways at school.

Without taking another look at him, you take a seat on the couch and Yunjin follows.

“Jake strikes again,” She says, staring at the girl beside him who's too busy giggling at whatever he’s saying to notice you staring her down.

“Expected.”

That feeling from Chemistry seemed to make its way back, you felt your chest ache slightly. But again, you pushed it away just in time for Jay to return and for the Cupid Fantasy Draft to start.

Jay takes a seat at the centre and begins explaining the rules, “Listen, I don’t know who made this idea but I’ll just go through the rules and shit. We go in order and you pick someone who is “yours” for the entire year. Get it?”

There are no interruptions, causing the event to commence.

Jay goes first, and soon it goes around in a circle - with Yunjin and Taehyun surprisingly getting picked - until the last one left is Jake.

His turn makes everyone stop and listen. You weren’t the only one surprised that he was taking part in this event, so you knew people would be talking about the lucky pick all year round. After all, it was known that he wasn’t the type to stick to one person, so it was extremely shocking that he was going to choose someone to spend the entire senior year with.

Taehyun leans in to whisper in both yours and Yunjins ears, “Betting 10 that he’ll choose Y/n.”

You shove his arms and moments after, Jake smirks at you, “I choose Y/n.”

Your face drops. Your heart, however, is jumping in happiness while an entire population’s worth of butterflies fly around in your stomach. Fighting the urge to smile at him is almost as irresistible as him.

Fuck, he’s got me, you think to yourself.

Everyone’s eyes are fixated on you as you leave the room, running up the stairs until you enter one of the many rooms of Jay’s place.

There were far too many thoughts running through your brain right now.

Jake Sim, Sim Jaeyun. He chose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft?

A feeling of sickness started to rise within you. Why, why, why. You probably had a bounty written on yourself now without even knowing the reason why Jake had picked you.

A knock on the door brings you away from the millions of thoughts imprisoning you.

“Y/n?” Yunjin’s voice is clear as day and you open the door. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t know. This is so random,” You respond, putting your head in your hands.

Yunjin nods, “Look. Even though Taehyun and I have made so many jokes over the last two months about you and Jake, we both know how he is and to be honest, even though Taehyun somewhat a predicted it, he’s shocked as fuck right now. We all knew Jake would have picked someone tonight but for some reason, I still thought he wasn’t going to take this seriously.”

“What if he isn’t?” You question. “What if he’s just using me as a plaything?”

“Well, Y/n, you’re smart enough to know when that’s happening.”

She’s wrong though. Over the last two months, you’ve enjoyed your jokes and snarky comments with Jake but most of all, you’ve had memorable conversations, too.

From favourite ice cream flavours to biggest fears in life, you’ve enjoyed every single bit of it, so it was hard to tell if he was really using you. There was something about the way your conversations flowed that made you think Jake was beginning to open up to you. Now, thinking about it, you felt silly for perhaps blurring the line between Jake being a good talker and him genuinely having an interest in you.

Then again, he had picked you for the draft. This was all too confusing, all too much for only your brain to handle alone.

“Yunjin, I have something to tell you.”

Right there and then, you explain the last two months and how with Sim Jaeyun, time means nothing since he’ll have you wrapped around his finger whenever he wants.

By the end of the night, both you and Yunjin have opened the snack drawer in the room you’re in and have discussed quite a lot: Jay, what to do about Sim Jaeyun and how to exit Jay’s mansion without getting caught.

Right now, you’re on the third part where Yunjin is standing guard at the front door and keeping an eye out for Jake or his comrades.

You rush down the stairs, just about to leave the door until…

“Y/n! Jake’s been looking everywhere for you,” Sunghoon puts an arm around your shoulder and drags you to the living room as Yunjin mouths an apology to you.

Once again, your eyes meet Jake’s figure. Only this time, he doesn’t have a companion stuck to his side. Instead, he has a drink in his hand that’s resting on the rip in his jeans and he looks bored to death. Again, hope begins to rise within you.

He looks up and jumps to his feet, “I thought you left.”

“I tried to,” you admit, making Jake laugh heartily.

He beckons to the door, “Let’s get out of here.”

You follow Jake, preparing to yell at him for his actions tonight but your anger disappears when he takes your hand in his and leads you out of the door and into his car. You can feel how cold his fingertips are from previously holding the cup in his hand, but you don’t seem to mind it at all.

Sitting at the driver’s seat, your eyes focus on his face. His nose is perfectly curved, accentuating the other features of his face such as his lashes that lay flat against his eyelids to match the shape of his eyelids. You’ve taken notice of this over the months; watching the way they crinkle when he laughs and the giggle leaves his lips.

“Soooo,” he breaks the silence and tilts his head to look at you.

“Don’t “soooo” me, Jaeyun. What on earth are you playing at? And, where’s my pen?” Even though you’re asking in such an angry tone, Jake can’t help but giggle at how endearing you can be sometimes.

He reaches into his pocket and passes you your pen, “Here. I don’t know what you’re talking about, by the way. I didn’t do anything wrong.”

He’s right, but you still argue, “You knew I didn’t want to be picked tonight, and you did it anyway. Why?”

Jake shrugs, “I took it as a challenge earlier. I thought it would be fun, too.”

Your eyes roll, “Is that all that matters to you?”

He nods, “Is there something wrong with that? Plus, this way we can do useful things that I’m sure are appealing to you, like study dates.”

There goes your heart doing backflips again. Dammit, Jaeyun.

“You don’t have to say yes, you know. You said so yourself that nobodies forcing you to do this. But, I’m just saying that I heard you needed help for Physics and I’m the man for it,” Jake informs you.

That was true, Jake had won every Physics award that existed at school. A few years back, he had even competed nationally and gotten first place.

“As long as you don’t call it study dates, we’re on,” You say, much to both his and your surprise.

“The only catch is,” He says, “You can’t fall in love with me.”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, “As if it was possible, Sim.”

Lie. Your heart was evidence of it.

Jake decides to take you on a quick drive, switching from driving fast and slow just to get a panicked reaction from you to amuse himself.

He parks outside a homely cafe, and exits the car without a word. Seconds later, he opens your door and helps you out with his hand reached out again. You were never one to deny affection from good looking guys.

The cafe owner greets him immediately, “Jaeyun!”

Jake rushes behind the counter and embraces the woman in a tight hug as you watch in shock, your mouth agape but still feeling the warmth radiate from the sight ahead of you.

The woman leaves the hug to look at you standing near the door, a smile creeping on her lips as she looks at Jake for an explanation.

“Y/n, this is my mum,” Jake says, almost sheepishly if that was possible for him.

Your eyes widen as you manage to stutter out, “Nice to meet you, Mrs Sim.”

Why the hell has he taken me to meet his mother right now, you think to yourself. He literally just told me not to fall in love with him, and he’s making me meet his mother of all people?

Jake excuses himself to wash his hands, leaving you and his mother alone. She calls you over with a warm smile.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

You search the menu and end up choosing a milkshake.

“So, are you Jaeyun’s partner?” She asks you.

You shake your head, and she frowns, “That’s a shame. You seem like a nice person . I always hoped the one he would bring to me would be the one he was going to marry.”

Pause.

You were the first one out of the hundred that got to meet his mother? There was no way. Why was he being so confusing?

Jake appears into the room with a smile, “Mum, we’ll take whatever to go. Y/n and I have a few plans for tonight.”

His mum smiles at him, “Bring her more often. I wanna meet her properly.”

Jake’s ears go bright red as he nods, giving his mum a kiss on the cheek before leaving with you.

This couldn’t be possible; this had to be one big nightmare.

“Your mum is very pretty,” you tell him and he smiles at you.

“She reminds me of you.”

Your heart is thumping again, so loud that you’re worried he’s able to hear it. You wonder how he can casually say this and then turn back to whatever he’s thinking about.

“Shut up, Sim.”

You decide not to ask what it is that reminds him of her in you, but instead you bask in the comfortable silence lingering the soft breeze while Jake drives to your next destination of the night.

He lets down your window so that the air can hit your face. He has the perfect view of your eyes fluttering close due to the comfort of how it feels against your skin. Your breath is hitched in your throat, in the most relaxing way ever. As Jake speeds up, you find his hand in yours in an almost reassuring manner; it’s as if he’s letting you know he won’t hurt you, as long as you don’t let him close enough.

Pushing all your anxious thoughts away for later, you decide to enjoy this moment with Jake and the milkshake in the hand that Jake wasn’t holding. It simply felt right to you, more right than anything ever did for a long time.

Jake takes you to a small hill that you both climb together, hand in hand since he says he’s worried that you’ll fall because of the dark which seems like an excuse that you don’t question.

You look at the view ahead of you; you’re encapsulated by it. It’s at a perfect position in the city, there's a perfect sight of all the enormous edifices lit by the hundreds of lights in each of their buildings and the moonlight hitting it square in the middle to only accentuate the beauty further. It takes your breath away so well that you forget Jake is pulling you to sit beside him.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He says, softly to which you nod. “I don’t bring many here, even though you probably think I do. This is my place for when I feel anxious or something.”

You look at him, and see that not only are the enormous edifices benefitting from the light of the orb in the sky, but Jake is too. He looks mesmerising under the moonlight.

“That’s shocking, Jaeyun,” You remark. “Didn’t know you felt anxious.”

He nods, “There’s a lot about me that you don’t know.”

You notice that it’s true, all you knew was that Jake was trouble and the small details he began to tell you in your Chemistry lessons. You were intrigued to learn more about him.

“Do you feel anxious right now?” You question.

Jake hesitates, “A bit.”

You nod, squeezing his hand to comfort him, but it was also for yourself. You needed to figure out the boundaries between you and Jake.

You don’t know how it happens, but you spend almost three hours sitting with Jake. Half of it was spent in silence, enjoying watching the city work ahead of you while the other half was spent learning small facts about one another.

A cursed yawn from you brings Jake’s attention away from the warm night and asks to take you home, much to your dismay.

He parks in front of your dorm, “It was a fun night, Y/n. I’ll see you at school tomorrow. Oh, and you have to come to my soccer practice tomorrow.”

“I have to?” You giggle.

He nods, “It’s part of the negotiations.”

You hum in response, walking off into your dorm.

You expected yourself to be a mess as soon as Jake left, but for some reason, you slept better than you did in months as you anticipated the sight of Jake in a soccer jersey.

2. I GOT THIS ANXIOUS FEELING, BUT IT GOES AWAY FOR A MINUTE WHEN I’M WITH YOU BREATHING.

You’ve been at your desk for hours, a coffee placed somewhere in the clutter of it all, seven books are laid out in front of you and not a single one of them makes any sense. You’re starting to see shapes in the paint of your walls and that’s when you decide to head off to bed.

As soon as you reach the comfort of your bed, there’s a ring at the doorbell.

Groaning, you stomp to your door where you see Jake with his hood covering most of his face that’s staring at your cat slippers.

“Nice slippers,” He comments, to which you smell alcohol leaving his mouth.

“Thanks. What are you doing here? Have you been drinking?” You ask, pulling him into your dorm.

You watch as he takes off the hood of his sweater, revealing a scar on his lip along with a bruised up eye. Gasping, you move closer to him to assess the wounds on his face.

“How did this happen?” You ask as you rush to your cupboards for disinfectants.

Jake takes a seat at your counter and begins to explain, “Jay, Sunghoon and I were having some fun when this girl's boyfriend got mad that I dated his girl before him and started to fight me. You should see him, though.”

He lifts his arm to show how his knuckles are bruised up, to which you kiss your teeth at.

Rather than telling him about how maybe this wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t dated so many people, you focus on cleaning his wounds and treating them.

Jake winces when the disinfectant touches his cuts, but allows you to keep cleaning. You only put plasters on them since thankfully, none of the cuts are bad enough to stitch them.

His eyes start to wander along your face so he brings up a finger of his to trace along your features which he decides he’ll blame the alcohol on tomorrow morning.

Before you die of a heart attack, you pull away from his touch, and pass him two ice packs; one for his eye and another for his knuckles, you also lead him into your living room. where you simply stare at the marks on his face until he gets awkward.

“It’s not that bad,” he assures you, rubbing your knee.

“You might wanna tell that to your face.”

He giggles before wincing again and straightening the plaster on the corner of his lips.

You don’t ask him why he’s come to your place, but instead, you grab a blanket from your room and place it over him to make sure it’s known that he can stay here for the night.

As you’re about to leave and walk off to your bedroom, Jake grabs your wrist gently.

“Stay,” He pleads.

That’s all it takes for you to lay in his arms, with one of your hands reaching up to play with his brown locks, causing his eyes to flutter open and close and for his breathing to get heavier.

Just as he’s about to sleep, Jake inches forwards and presses his lips onto yours. The metallic taste of his blood mixes with your saliva, but it’s not enough to make you pull away from your kiss.

The kiss is deep, with both of you not wishing to pull away anytime soon. It leaves both of you breathless and you’re sure that Jake can now taste the cherry lip balm that you applied on your lips. The kiss makes you feel like you’re in the clouds and your head is filled with nothing but Jake.

It feels like years have passed when you both pull away from the kiss, panting and pressing foreheads together.

“Y/n,” Jake breaks the silence and you hum as a response. “There’s something about you that makes me want to change. Don’t leave me.”

It was definitely the alcohol coursing through his veins that urged him to say this. Seeing Jake vulnerable was oddly your favourite version of him, he was always so soft with you and that was the time when he was the most open. For some reason, he kept this side of himself closed off but you didn’t argue with being the only one who saw this side of him, even if it wasn’t frequent.

Clearly, that was the side of you that had become completely infatuated by him over the last few months. Honestly, every moment with him had changed you for the better.

He somehow was always able to bring those stress levels of yours down in every way he could; whether it was taking you on a drive with the wind and Jake taking your breath away, or coming over with ice cream. Or even just coming over to talk with you just helped.

You press a kiss to his cheek and wrap your arms around him to hug him tightly until you fall asleep in his arms that hold you close to his chest where you both felt a sense of security even if you knew he wouldn’t remember this in the morning and that by the time you woke up, there would be a blanket draped over your shoulders with no sight of Jake.

3. I CAN TASTE IT, MY HEART’S BREAKING.

“You ready?” Jake pops out of nowhere, creeping up on you while you're packing up to leave the suffocating Math class.

Before you can even get a word out, he’s helping you pack up by snatching all your things and hoisting it over his shoulder.

“Jaeyun! Give me my things,” You scold him.

He shakes his head, “No, you’re taking too long. You can pack up when we’re sitting on the bleachers on the soccer field!”

Shoot, you forgot he had soccer practice today. This new routine with him wasn’t easy getting used to. Especially, since his reminders were done by force rather than nice texts at the beginning of the day that would have definitely been more helpful and effective.

He still manages to have space to hold your hand with a few fingers, even with many of your belongings in his hands; but you noticed over the months that Sim Jaeyun enjoyed physical contact.

Now, you still had thoughts wondering if it was the vulnerable Sim Jaeyun that enjoyed always having a hold of you, or the generic one that was available to everyone. Either way, all you knew was that it made your heart run a thousand miles per second.

It was funny; you saw the eyes always watching your movements when Jake was with you. The envy was heavy in the air, but you never seemed to care. Everything else was unimportant when Jake was with you.

“When does practice end today? I have plans” You jokingly whine, to which Jake snaps his head towards you, displaying the small pout on his lips.

“It’ll end at 9, so you better cancel those plans.”

“What?! You’re practising for 6 hours?”

Now, Jake laughs, “No, we’re going on a date afterwards.”

Your ears perk up at this, “Where?”

“Not to worry for now, angel,” He presses a kiss on your cheek as he sits you down on the bleachers and returns your belongings while he makes way to the changing rooms.

Angel, angel, angel. All you can hear is the pet name he kept for you, echoing in your ears like a love song on repeat.

Seeing as Jake and his friends liked to take centuries to get changed in their jerseys, you decided to keep yourself busy whilst burying your nose into a book when more people started joining you on the bleachers - one in particular catching your eye and that being a girl named Choi Heejin. You knew of her, but not properly since she didn't go to the same school as you. You also knew that she was Jake’s longest plaything, hence why she had been sending you dirty looks as she took a seat.

Feigning no sense of fear, you watch Jake and his friends walk onto the court and the sound of Jake’s laugh rings through the almost empty field, bringing a smile to your face.

Jake runs over to you, handing you his bag. You watch him glance at Heejin, displaying a somewhat shocked expression which you could tell he was doing his best to conceal.

“Heejin, what are you doing here?”

“I came to watch, like old days,” Heejin smiles at him, her eyes radiating nothing but horrid intentions. Jake nods, taking in her words.

“Well, it definitely won't be like old times, since I have Y/n here with me.”

Jake innocently smiles at you, leaving a peck on your lips before running off back with the guys.

Contrary to what you said before, there certainly was something bothering you about the way this girl was staring at you, but after Jake’s act before, you felt a lot more at ease.

Unfortunately, you had hoped to forget her presence but it seemed that she just had to cheer every time Jake had scored or done something remotely rewarding.

This only just irked your temper, causing you to look at her with the dirtiest look you could muster up.

“Something wrong?” She drawls.

“Only the fact that you’re drooling over Jaeyun when he told you that there’s no chance of him getting back with you.”

She cackles, literally cackles, in your face, “Jaeyun, huh? I thought I was the only one who called him that.”

As much as you try not to show it, you’re sure she sees your face drop.

What on earth did she mean by that?

She only continues to stab you with her words, “Do you really think he means what he said? What, because he’s been with you for a few months? Are you two even dating yet?”

You don’t say anything; no you and Jake weren’t dating but that didn’t mean this wasn’t serious. Did it?

Pleased with the damage she’s done, she gets up and grabs her things, “Well, tell Jaeyun my number hasn’t changed. I’m sure he remembers it - he’s always been good with numbers.”

You stare ahead as she leaves and you can feel the tears brim your eyes as Jake makes his way over, her eyes repeating in your head over and over again. A feeling of sickness rose in your stomach, you felt stupid for even falling for Jake and thinking he would fall for you even in this time. After all, he had told you not to fall for him and here you were, two months away from Valentine’s day with your heart only full with him. It was insane that one could have this much of an effect on you; it was as if the air you breathed in was just Jake. Only Jake. Everything was about him, Sim Jaeyun, your Jaeyun.

But it wasn’t supposed to be, he specifically told you not to. Perhaps this was all part of his plan when he had chosen you for that stupid cupid draft.

You didn’t expect Jake to be running after you but as soon as he gets close enough, Jake immediately wraps his hand around your wrist to bring you to a halt and spins you around to look at him, “Y/n, stop.”

You’re panting when you stop, tears falling down your face uncontrollably that you’re sure are burning into your cheeks. Jake tries to pull you into his arms, but you reject this notion which definitely catches him by surprise judging by the way his eyebrows raise.

“She called you Jaeyun, you said I’m the only one who called you that.”

“Y/n, that was a very long time ago.”

As if that makes it any better. Millions of questions flow through your brain, all wondering almost the exact same thing and you question whether the thought has actually left your head since the day you felt some sort of adoration towards Sim Jaeyun: what am I to him?

So, there goes it.

“What am I to you?” The second the question leaves your mouth, all the strength that you had disappeared and turned into the nerve-wracking sick feeling reappearing in the pits of your stomach.

“I already told you a while ago, Y/n. This is nothing, we are nothing to one another” his words cut you deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Deeper than Heejin’s only moments ago.

This was an unexplainable type of pain. Seeing Jake’s eyes look at you coldly, as if he’s disappointed at the fact that you’ve fallen for him just like everybody else. As if the time you’ve spent together has meant absolutely nothing. Then again, this was Sim Jaeyun you were talking about. Of course, none of it meant anything - all the things he said to make you feel special and loved were nothing to him. You were a fool for thinking otherwise even for a second.

The pair of you only stare at each other with every passing moment, looking at one another until you simply can’t recognise the person in front of you, which ultimately brings you to turning away from Sim Jaeyun forever.

4. I KNOW I’LL FALL IN LOVE WITH YOU, BABY. AND THAT’S NOT WHAT I WANNA DO. (JAKE POV)

There was something about the way conversations flowed so easily when I spoke to you. It always led to me wanting more, craving more. Half the time, I didn’t even notice what I was saying until it was too late. But still, there wasn’t the usual feeling of when one overshares. No. Instead, I had felt a strange comfort hug me like a warm, snug air wrapping its arms around me and telling me that everything was going to be alright.

It was odd and unfamiliar to the point where I would feel uncomfortable by all the foreign comfort. I had never felt something like that before.

Often, I would find myself sitting at the top of the hill late at night and staring at the busy city in an attempt to drag my mind away from you. Even so, my thoughts were being invaded by only you, it was so suffocating in the best way possible. All my attempts and not loving you were futile after years of pushing people away, all it took was a single lesson for you to draw my attention. And that was by far the scariest thing I had ever experienced in my entire life. It was enamoring; you were simply enamoring.

I thought it must have been the alcohol that possessed me to choose you for the Cupid Fantasy Draft, but by the end of the night, I came to realise that it was my heart speaking for me. For once, my heart had knocked my brain out of the way and took control but something about it had felt so right even though every single bone in my being was urging me to resist. This was the first time in a while that I felt as though everything was right as it should be. The Cupid Fantasy Draft was the perfect opportunity for me to win you, so I took that opportunity. It would be a lie if I said that I didn’t know how in love with you I would get, but there was nothing I could do about it. I had let it overcome me until it was the only thing I was consuming.

Until, the dreaded moments when you weren’t beside me and I convinced myself that this was going too far and for some reason, I was thankful for warning you about me. You didn’t deserve it, you were far too precious for the ruins of me. You deserve someone better and I was going to make sure it had happened, even if it broke me. Which it did.

Along the way, there were times where I needed you and only you. My heart began to ache when you were not near, the oxygen around me began to seem inefficient because I was not breathing the scent of whatever perfume you had on and for that, my lungs were poisoned by the fumes of an unimportant air, an air that didn't have anything to do with. I began to rely on you for my ultimate survival - I only felt alive with you near me, with your hand in mine. There was no part of me that cared how it looked, or that my persona was being thrown away, until it was too late.

For a while, I contemplated being selfish and letting you completely in. I wondered what it would be like to show the feelings I had for you and to let myself love you and only you. I almost began to convince myself, but it was for the better that I was not 100%. The small percentage of me that was reluctant had saved you from me in the end.

When I saw Heejin that day, it was like a blast from the past; a reality check. This wasn’t who I am, I wasn’t supposed to be with you. You shouldn’t be with someone who only hurts you. I knew Heejin wasn’t just a reminder to me, but to you, too - which was why I had let her stay that day at the soccer practice. It was an impulsive idea that turned out for the better. Although I don’t know what she said that day, I knew whatever caused you to run out the fields that day had done my job for me. Perhaps that was me being lazy, perhaps that was me taking the easy way out, but the good part was that it started off what was pulling you away from me.

I had never felt my heart ache so much after seeing the tears stream down your face, the ache only worsening as time went on and I couldn’t do anything to resolve it but rather, the things I was about to do were probably going to make it even worse. I’m sure it did; I didn’t expect it to be easy after all this time but I had to remain heartless and strong with this last moment.

Watching you walk away had to have been the hardest thing I had ever encountered; the feeling of emptiness being the only thing I could feel for days on end afterwards and rejecting human contact until I could feel something. I longed to see your lips turn upwards to smile widely at me, pulling me into an everlasting enchantment. I longed to be suffocated by your endless love. Wasn’t that strange?

5. CRYBABY.

The soft rain pattered against the window of the cafe that you were sitting at, Valentine’s Day decorations displayed all around the grand shop.

Everything was blooming with love along with the freshness of the spring air flowing through your nostrils, sending a rejuvenating chill down your body. With a smile, you rested your chin on your palm whilst awaiting your date to come and whisk you away.

The bells on the door caught your attention, making you spin around with a smile on your face and your eyes glistening with sparkles.

The excited look on your face only dims when you see the wide smile on his pink lips as he walks in. Your eyes immediately notice the new bright blond locks of his hair flattened against his forehead, and his dark brown orbs finally meeting yours.

Your mouth is open agape, as you stare at the boy at the door while he stares at you as well.

For a moment, you turn back around, as if to dismiss that shared moment with one another and ignore the way the world had paused for you two but the universe must have other plans since Jaeyun walks over to your table and takes a seat in front of you.

Although it's only been a few months, the feeling of being sat with one another is so unfamiliarly strange, until he cracks that smile, “How do you like my hair?”

“It suits you,” You say admiring the colour on him. “Why are you here, Jake?”

Ouch. His heart sinks, evidently since his smile falters.

“Jake, huh?” You swear you hear his voice break.

You almost laugh at him, “Well, I figured I should call you what your playthings called you, since I was one of them, after all.”

“Y/n-”

“Save it. There’s nothing left to say,” You shrug, taking your things. “I don’t know why you’re here, nor do I care. But, leave me alone.”

As you walk out of the shop, the bell announcing your departure, Jake follows after you.

“Y/n, let me explain!” He calls after you.

Your bag is slung over your head to stop the rain from hitting your face annoyingly until Jake drapes his hoodie over your head, revealing his bare arms from the white tee shirt he's wearing. Immediately, the smell of his cologne wafts through your nostrils, sending you in half a trance and halting your movements. In that moment, you’re back a few months ago when your entire being was enhanced by Sim Jaeyun.

“What is there left to say, Jake?” You scream into the rain. Jake stares at you, wondering if the droplets down your face are tears or the rain. Soon enough, he figures out that it's your tears, and there goes the stab feeling at his heart once more.

“I want this back,” Jake spits out. He runs a hand through his hair, catching his thoughts. “I can’t live without you. Every morning, I wake up to an empty feeling in my heart, the same feeling that I sleep with at night while I think only of you. You came into my life so suddenly, I didn’t realise how much I needed you. Well, I did, but I was so scared by it. When I found out you were going to be spending Valentine’s with someone else, I felt a part of me just.. break. I can’t do this without you. You have to believe me.”

Jake takes a step closer and takes your hand in his, awaiting your response to his serenade of love. It feels as though years have passed when you make a movement.

Pushing Jake's hand off yours, you whisper, “I’m sorry.”

The earnest, pleading look in his eyes almost convinced you to stay, but you knew better. You knew better than to fall for this again. You didn't doubt that Jake’s feelings for you were genuine, but you definitely questioned if they would end up in flames again. That was a risk you weren’t willing to take.

Ultimately, you were wiser than your heart therefore, you chose not to fall into the dark abyss of Sim Jaeyun again. It was a choice laced with agony and heartburn but it was a necessary choice for the sake of your heart.

You hoped that, one day, when Jake was better for you, he would be brought back to you as someone you could build something with. But, now was not the time.

Jake watches you walk away for the second time, knowing this time it’s definitely the last time. Pools of tears start to leave his eyes as he clutches his heart. With every step you take away from him, a piece of his heart is carried with you and he wondered if these pieces will ever return to him.

He wondered how cupid could be this cruel and if he could ever get over the mistake that lost him you. He knew that cupid’s mistake was going to leave a permanent imprint on his entire being for the rest of his life, but he knew it far too late.

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foreingersgod · 10 months ago

Note

I love your work! Could you write kate Martin x fem!reader whose just a regular college student?

of course my love!

A/N: hi everyone! i’m still working on several requests right now so be patient with me! i promise they will all get done soon, but i’m a busy college student who only has so much time! they’ll be done soon, thank you so much for your patience and support, ily all !! if you have any questions about your request, feel free to message me :)

Living Life with You . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

synopsis: kate is just so incredibly in love with you

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

midterms were swiftly approaching for the semester and everyone was scrambling to prepare, yourself included. you had about 4 exams that you needed to study for, ranging from chemistry to psychology to family finance. so you spent most of your days this week confined the comforts of your apartment, sat on the couch with you laptop on your lap and your notes spread across the coffee table.

it wasn’t abnormal for you to hide away when you needed to focus on your studies, but kate had planned to stay at your apartment all this week to spend time with you.

“i just don’t want these stupid midterms to ruin our week” you had told her one night over the phone. “i would feel bad if you just sat in my apartment and watched me study for hours, especially since having a full week to ourselves is so rare”

“i just want to be with you, baby, doesn’t matter if you’re studying or not” she reassured you.

sure enough, when kate arrived at your apartment, a bag packed and a quaint little bouquet of flowers for your kitchen counter, she had no problem with you studying. in fact, she had changed into her pajamas like you had done and sat herself on the couch directly next to you.

but the night was not just spent on the couch watching you study. she had offered to make you your favorite dinner (offer is a generous word, more like forced you to stay out of the kitchen so she could treat you) and set the table. she even washed your dishes that remained in the sink from earlier in the week so you wouldn’t have to stress about it for the night. kate had called you into the kitchen after about an hour, announcing that dinner was ready.

“please take a break and have dinner with me?” she pleaded, you could practically see those puppy dog eyes from the living room.

so you rolled yourself off the couch, stretching for the first time since 3 pm, clambering your way into the kitchen. what you were met with made your heart absolutely melt.

“hey, you hungry?” kate stood at the counter, dishing up your plates, dish rag thrown over her shoulder and sleeves rolled up to her elbows. god, your jaw must’ve been on the floor.

not only did kate look so irresistible making you dinner like this, but she had lit your ‘nice candle’ and set two spots next to each at your kitchen island for the two of you. she pulled a couple wine glasses out of your cupboard, setting them next to your plates as you walked over to her in the kitchen.

“babe, you did all this?” you stood behind her, resting your chin on her shoulder as she put the finishing touches on your plate. she grinned, feeling your arms wrap around her waist, turning around to face you.

“you’ve been working so hard to study for your tests,” she placed a sweet kiss to your forehead “and i wanted to do something special for you to help you wind down”

“ugh, i truly don’t deserve you” you pouted, kate grabbing your hand and guiding you to your seat. “i’ve just been sat on the couch hardly giving you the attention you deserve. you’ve been working just as hard with your team.”

“and you show me that everyday, you go to every single game, even if it’s an away game. you come with me to every banquet and event. you fix me up when i’m hurt and give me your undivided attention every single day. you’ve truly given me the world, YN” she sat next to you, pouring you both a glass of wine.

“i love you so so much, kate” you said, looking at the delicious scene in front of you. you’re favorite food, a nice glass of wine, all of it by candlelight, and your sweet girl at your side.

“i love you too,” she pulled you in for another kiss “and i love living life with you”

#kate martin x reader #kate martin #wcbb #wcbb x reader #iowa wbb

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bella-goths-wife · 10 months ago

Note

So I was listening to this song here

https://youtu.be/s29fcv5E52Y?si=w7kH1W23tU7sxiJF

And thought of if Pet ends up getting freed or was able to get away from Vox she would become an overlord with a lot of power.

I actually love that song so much and it would match overlord pet so well and now it’s inspired me to do what overlord pet would be like

Vs Pet as an overlord

Warnings: murder, gore, illegal activity, drug use, mentions pet having sex but not explicitly, reader owns peoples souls

This is not canon but could be a non canon mini series if you enjoy it :)

In this situation, you made no deals with alastor or Vox

Your completely on your on your own in your journey for power

Or were you?

You lived on the streets for around two years in hell before you realised the potential it had

There were networks for the homeless, connections that could be made for trading of food or materials

You stumbled into trading one day after being particularly hungry and an older woman who also lived on the streets took pity on you and taught you how to steal from the public and trade the things you stole for food

After growing fond of you, the old woman told you that her name was Martha and reassured you that she’d take you under her wing until you learnt the ways of the streets

But Martha was quite old when she died and her hellish form was more frail then most, she was a very vulnerable person who could barely protect herself

After seeing you use your hellish abilities for the first time, Martha explained to you what soul deals were

She explained that she wished to make a deal with you, her soul in exchange for protection

You were shocked and initially wanted to refuse but Martha explained that it would guarantee to her that you would never betray her and she would never betray you

So you agreed, and Martha became the first soul you ever owned

After that it was a slow collection of souls, mainly strays from the streets who wanted protection or one of the younger souls needing protection

Martha taught you to be a gentle but assertive soul owner, you were never cruel to the souls you owned but you would always give them a reminder that you were in charge

With all the souls you had gathered also came shared profits, more money combined then any of you had ever seen

All the souls you owned turned to you when given the question of what you should do with it, and you were unsure

But Martha, being the wise mother goose she was, suggested that you opened a business up that would be profitable and also provide you an opportunity to rise up in the ranks

So you purchased a small club in the entertainment district

It was the first modern version of a club that had moved there in a while since no one wanted to compete with the Vs sex lounges or mimzys club

You were quite a success because of this, you were doing something you knew quite a lot about since you were such a party person when you were alive

You managed the music and used your ability to make your club irresistible

But you weren’t collecting souls as fast as you should be, you weren’t becoming powerful enough to make your lifestyle sustainable

And then an idea popped into your head, what did you learn about more than partying when you were alive?

Drugs

You began to allow for drug use in your clubs and even used one of the souls you owned who used to be a chemistry professor create a more intense type of ecstasy and you named it after your club and sold it exclusively at your club

So now your club sold specialised drugs and this put you on the map

You had customers lining up around the block to get in, and more money and souls then you could count

This eventually earned you a seat at the overlords meetings despite many overlords refusals

Some overlords found you to gentle to be an overlord, they saw you as an embarrassment because of your lack of cruelty in your deals

They thought you could easily be disrespected

So when a minor overlord came to your club and began to harass the staff and destroy the furniture, he assumed you would do nothing

He was incorrect

He dropped to his knees and covered his ears as you made it so he had a loud screaming sound in his ears

He begged you to stop and apologised over and over again, but you knew that if you wanted to be respected in the overlord community then you couldn’t show mercy

You raised the frequency of the sounds to an agonising level until blood dripped from his ears, eyes, nose and mouth

You kept raising it until his brains turned to liquid and chunks fell from his ears and nose

For the first time ever, the souls you owned and the public looked at you with pure fear

You had used your ability to record the overlords screams of agony so when you returned to the overlord meeting and there were people trying to mock you, you calmly just summoned the sounds of their friend dying a painful and long death

This impressed alastor greatly and made him put you in his attention as you intrigued him greatly

He had visited your club a few times after that but decided that it wasn’t his cup of tea after watching you snort coke off of a woman’s chest

You fell into old habits once you were in a comfortable position of power by becoming a bit of a playgirl who had lovers lining up around the corner to spend a night in your bed

You were always respectful of them and always made sure they were taken care of before and after sleeping with them

You intrigued alastor and you felt familiar to him, like you have in all the past au’s alastor had a strange connection with you

He invited you to sit with him and Rosie during the meetings and you accepted happily, finally gaining some connections

Alastor and Rosie found you just darling and Rosie treated you just like a protective mother during the meetings, having them both stand up for you and threaten anyone who dared mock you for your past or your gentle techniques

You were grateful and in your gratitude you made them a small quiet booth in your club for them to visit, and they would whenever you would be using your abilities to be the clubs DJ for the night to cheer you on like proud parents

Your playgirl style had caught the attention of Valentino and he felt curious enough to visit your club with the other Vs

Velvette and Vox already had a disliking towards you because you had invaded on their territory and your affiliations with the radio demon

But Valentino insisted and brought them along

Martha encouraged you to go over to the table since you were the clubs owner and they were pretty influential overlords who could possibly help you in the future

So you greeted them all politely and bought them all a drink on the house

Vox, out of curiosity and partly to spite alastor, demanded that you join them for a drink

Out of politeness, you did

They asked you many many questions about yourself and practically interrogated you all night

Their night ended with Valentino demanded you dance with him and you were having fun until his hands drifted too far down and you had to politely reject his advances

Because of your good relationships with some of the most influential demons, they brought more business in for you

In exchange you allowed them to rent out a room in the back for illegal meetings and trades as long as they denied doing it with your consent if they ever pissed off the wrong people

You were slowly becoming more powerful, you were no longer the little sewer rat you used to be

With the help of the other demons, you became an influential and feared individual

Life would have been great, if it weren’t for those friendships bringing you many many problems

You had Vox constantly watching you through any and all technology at all times, unless you had alastor nearby which would scramble the signal and effectively piss Vox off

You had alastor constantly using his abilities to try and change your club and make it into something that more matched his image and constantly trying to ‘take you under his wing’ even though you explained many many times that you were fine on your own

You had Rosie who would constantly antagonise Martha and looked at her as if she wished to kill her in a moment, she also had a nasty habit of trying to be a motherly figure towards you at times even when you didn’t need it which would be sweet but her way was so obsessive and violating that it made you cringe

You had velvette who had made it her mission to get you to join the Vs despite you not wanting to since you were successful on your own, she even tried to sabotage you a few times so you’d have to join them

You had Valentino, who was constantly trying to get you to star in one of his movies or he just hung around too much for it to be comfortable and it felt suffocating

All of these problems combined made you life extremely hard sometimes, especially when they would all become possessive or jealous and would drag you away from doing your work to make it so you’d be with one of them all day

But at least you were powerful

And at least you were free

That’s more then you could say for most people

Hope you liked this one, it’s a little silly but I’m tired and it’s the best I can do at the moment 😭

Tag list

@hazbinhotelxreader @fandomaddict505 @corvid007 @buttercupfangirl @perkypeony @sparkleyfishies @repostingmyfavs @lilyalone @the-faceless-bride @idontreallyexistyet @ivebeenthearchersstuff @rerarlo

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princessjojo-x · 10 months ago

Text

1st House Synastry

those who have any part of their ‘big 3’ (sun, moon, rising) in your first house will make a strong first impression on you. first house is related to our individual identity so there’s an immediate recognition for each other. theres an instant attraction & special chemistry, even if partners aren’t conventionally attractive or not each others usual type. although you’ll find their presence memorable & compelling upon first encounters, the rxship can burn out quickly if there’s no foundation beyond that initial spark.

expect to be mesmerised with their looks & demeaner, combined with an obsessive need to know more about them, to be around them, to soak up as much of them as possible, as if to aggressively learn them. however, one partner never quite shows their true self to the other partner, meaning they only see one side of them & only know them to a certain extent.

partners tend to notice & obsess over the tiny details in each other. they'll keep finding little things abt each other that they find enchanting. this creates an effect of falling for each other again & again & again. these enchanting little details build up gradually & partners become completely infatuated with each other eventually. this person will tick all the boxes you’ve been holding inside.

planet feels like house is similar to them in a way - shared interests, ideas, morals, etc. consequently, planet has a natural respect for house & seeks houses approval a lot. planet feels like house moves at the same speed as them, which leads to a sense of trust & comfort in house.

through this connection, house gains new feelings or discoveries abt themselves, for better or worse.

Venus

there may be awkwardness upon first meeting bc house makes venus feels nervous. these partners always look good together aesthetically . their physical appearance just fit perfectly (barbie & ken vybz). both parties make evident the fascination they feel for each others bodies. there is a general adoration simply for who the other person is. venus especially is obsessed & mesmerised by houses appearance. venus finds house physically perfect & irresistible. this will either cause house to feel very seen & loved or cause house to perceive the rxship as superficial & empty. for example, venus being completely turned off just bc house got a bad haircut. also, depending on how low or high venus’s self esteem is, once venus becomes comfortable around house, they may become envious & critical towards houses looks & image. venus may keep making comments on houses body, reminding house of their flaws. venus may feel like house isn’t truly ever enough. house may feel like venus puts them on an unrealistic pedestal & they always have to be “perfect” around venus. this aspect can make either party be in denial abt the breakup or the rejection. they tend to become stalkers, for example lurking on their social media or even following them home.

Mars

due to the aries influence, this is likely a feisty & electric couple, privately & publicly. both parties want to seize the dominant role & one assumes the other likes to provoke them. you may feel the confident & masculine energy emitted by your partner & you’ll either find it arousing or excessive. house may often annoy mars unintentionally & mars may often lack sensitivity towards house. this clash can lead to hurt feelings & even violence. outsiders struggle to understand this complicated dynamic. you may become more verbally combative & physically tense around this person. therefore, this aspect is best for those attracted to assertive & martian energy, otherwise you may view your partner as arrogant or bossy. within this synastry, there isn’t necessarily romantic compatibility but there is definitely physical connection. for example, saying "i hate you" & kissing each other right after. sex is very passionate & powerful, with rough & competitive air. initially, mars is instantly turned on by house & its often a superficial attraction. consequently, mars readily pursues house with a straightforward approach. mars’s passion captures houses attention & house feels either intrigued or irritated. however, if mars has a inferiority complex, due to feeling threatened by house, mars will resist making a move, even though both partners usually struggle hiding their feelings or intentions from one another. house brings out the protective, jealous & possessive side of mars. this partnership may alter houses identify bc mars can motivate & urge house to be the best version of themselves. house develops more passion, assertiveness, confidence, bravery & ambition due to mars’s influence. however, if mars has low self esteem, they’ll become envious & critical towards houses image. mars may keep making comments on houses appearance & reminding house of their flaws. (cancer mars or taurus asc)

Moon

there’s plenty of emotional openness in this caring & gentle rxship. there’s no ‘get to know each other’ phase, partners instantly *know* one another from the first meeting & feel very comfortable around each other. partners easily let the guards down & struggle to keep secrets from one another. partners will be each other's lending ear & lending shoulder. they know eachothers sensitive spots & what topics to avoid. this aspect brings out partners protective side but it’s more of a calm, delicate & emotional protection. for example, worrying abt each others health & well-being. this connection make you more likely to find the other person’s quirks as endearing rather than off-putting. initially, partners are very curious abt one another. they want to see what more there is than what meets the eye. partners may share similarities causing them to understand & accept one another easily. they may have familiar forms of behaviour & mirror each others temperamental tendencies. house holds the ability to easily read moon & house understands moon better than anyone else. since house makes moon feel so seen & heard, moon easily let’s their guard down around house. moon’s openness arouses the nurturing & sensitive side of house. there is something abt the way moon looks or acts that makes house feel immediately safe & calm. (cancer moon or aries asc)

#astro notes #astrology #astrology synastry

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passengerprincessblog · 3 months ago

Text

“Off Track” ~ Pt. 4 Franco x Reader

WARNINGS: NSFW cheating, rushed sex, unprotected sex?

Summary: At Lewis’s charity gala in London, Y/N is surprised to discover Franco among the guests, stirring up the lingering feelings from their last encounter. As the night progresses, the chemistry between Y/N and Franco becomes undeniable.

London was a city of endless lights, elegance, and charm, but tonight it felt stifling. I was dressed to perfection in an evening gown, something I knew would make Lewis smile with approval. But no matter how much I tried to focus on him, on being his partner for this important night, my thoughts kept wandering back to Franco.

Over the past week, his texts had been a teasing balm, sweet but taunting in their casualness. How are you? What are you up to? Wish I could see you, his words were gentle but persistent, each message stirring that familiar ache of excitement. It was like he knew how to pull me back in, even from miles away.

This week, Lewis and I had argued too. I’d wanted to go home, see my friends, maybe ground myself a bit. But Lewis had insisted I stay for his charity gala, Mission 44, which was happening that weekend. And, as always, Lewis won. He’d flashed that charming, persuasive smile, reminded me how important it was to him, and suddenly, my desire to go home seemed insignificant. So here I was, dressed to the nines, standing beside him at a lavish event, yet feeling miles away.

The gala room was stunning—an intricate, abstract design that was very much Lewis’s style, with bold shapes and moody lighting that made everything feel grand. Celebrities milled around, some famous faces I recognized, others more obscure, all adding to the glittering display of success Lewis had orchestrated. I could feel the admiration bubbling up within me as I watched him interact with guests, looking sharp in an all-black ensemble, his long coat adding a dramatic flair to his presence. He was magnetic, effortlessly commanding attention, and for a moment, I allowed myself to admire him as the man I’d fallen in love with.

But then, like a reflex, my mind betrayed me, filling in images of Franco—his cheeky smirk, the sparkle in his eyes, the memory of his hand trailing up my thigh. I shook the thought away, chastising myself, trying to remember why I was here. Focus on Lewis, I told myself, though it felt like a losing battle.

I drifted around the room as more guests arrived, glancing at the neatly arranged name tags on the tables. When I finally reached our table, I noticed Lewis’s name, then mine beside his, and… Franco Colapinto. The realization hit me—this whole time, Franco had been planning to come to the gala. And I was only now finding out… all those texts… he really was teasing me.

I glanced across the room, searching for Lewis. He was busy talking to a small group, looking perfectly at ease, as if this was all a casual gathering among friends rather than a high-stakes charity event. My mind raced with questions. Did he invite Franco? Why hadn’t he mentioned it? Part of me was thrilled, the other part terrified.

I scanned the room, searching for any sign of him, but all I saw were unfamiliar faces. Trying to calm my racing heart, I walked over to the bar and ordered a glass of champagne, hoping the bubbles would soothe my nerves. But just as I took a sip, I saw him.

Franco was across the room, talking to Lewis. He looked dapper, dressed more elegantly than I’d ever seen him before. It was a far cry from his usual race suit and boyish energy; tonight, he looked… confident, composed, yet still with that irresistible spark.

The way he was talking to Lewis, his face lighting up, his eyes wide with admiration—it made my stomach twist. I wanted that attention for myself. I almost laughed at how ridiculous I felt, watching my own boyfriend receive Franco’s excitement and admiration, jealousy curling inside me like a flame. I lingered, not wanting to seem too eager, though my heart was racing with anticipation.

Finally, as the guests started taking their seats, I approached the table, settling in next to Lewis. And then, Franco took the seat on my other side, his presence sending a rush of adrenaline through me.

Lewis talked to him warmly, the two of them quickly diving into conversation about the latest races, upcoming circuits, and throwing a few jabs at some stupid video game they like, that had them both laughing. I smiled, pretending to follow along, but the ache of feeling left out gnawed at me. Here I was, once again, between two men who held my heart in different ways.

Lewis leaned over, his attention on the person seated on his other side, which left Franco and me in our own little bubble. Franco leaned closer, his voice a quiet murmur. “You look Increíble tonight, Y/N. I didn’t think it was possible, but you’re actually distracting me from this whole event.”

I felt my cheeks warm, glancing quickly to see if Lewis had noticed. Thankfully, he was too engrossed in conversation, leaving us blissfully alone. I tried to keep my voice steady. “You’re one to talk. I didn’t know you could clean up this well, Colapinto.”

He smirked, his gaze dropping momentarily to my lips. “Had to dress up. Didn’t want you thinking I’m only capable of looking good in a race suit.”

I rolled my eyes, feeling the flutter of nerves building. “Pretty bold to be saying that with Lewis right here.”

Franco’s eyes sparkled with mischief. He leaned in just a little closer. “What, he’s got you wrapped around his finger?”

I felt a surge of defiance and teasingly whispered back, “I think you’re the one who’s got it bad. Don’t you have more of a crush on Lewis than I do?”

He laughed quietly, the sound vibrating between us. “You’re not wrong. But right now… Creo que estoy más interesado en otra persona. (I think I’m more interested in someone else.)”

A thrill shot through me, and I quickly looked away, my pulse racing. Lewis chose that moment to raise his glass, signaling to Franco and me to join in a toast. We clinked glasses, the tension momentarily disrupted, and I couldn’t help but notice the way Franco’s fingers lingered just a little longer on the glass than necessary.

I felt a warm hand settle on my thigh under the table. My breath hitched, and my heart pounded as I realized it was Franco’s. I glanced over, but Lewis was too engrossed in his conversation to notice.

I tried to keep my face neutral, my heart racing as his hand moved slightly higher, his fingers brushing against the hem of my dress. Heat flooded my cheeks, and I struggled to keep my breathing steady. It was maddening, this dance we were doing, all while Lewis sat just inches away, blissfully unaware.

Just then, Lewis rose to go to the stage, ready to give his speech. My heart swelled with pride as I watched him make his way up, his presence captivating as he took the microphone, smiling at the crowd. But before I could fully settle into the moment, I felt Franco shift beside me, his gaze settling on me with that familiar, irresistible intensity.

“Lewis looks happy up there,” Franco murmured, his voice soft, but there was something else in his tone, a quiet invitation that pulled me in.

I nodded, trying to stay focused on Lewis, but Franco’s hand on my thigh, his quiet words, the warmth of his presence next to me—it was all too intoxicating. The room seemed to blur, the sound of Lewis’s voice over the microphone fading as I lost myself in Franco’s gaze.

But as Lewis’s voice echoed through the room, I felt Franco’s presence beside me, grounding me in a completely different way. He leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper. “He’s Increíble. I get why he’s the star.”

I glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. “He is. He’s… incredible.”

Franco’s gaze softened, his eyes searching mine. “But even stars need a break. Don’t you ever get tired of being in the spotlight?”

I swallowed, feeling the weight of his question sink in. “Sometimes,” I admitted, my voice barely audible. “Sometimes it feels like… I disappear.”

He nodded, understanding flashing in his eyes. “No tienes que desaparecer conmigo (You don’t have to disappear with me.)”

The words lingered in the air between us, heavy and charged. It’s the way he says it, so sweet and genuine. I feel my heart swell up. I knew I should look away, break the spell, but something kept me locked in place, captivated by the warmth in his gaze. With Lewis’s voice in the background, I felt myself slipping, giving in to the forbidden thrill I’d tried so hard to resist.

After a moment, I made a decision. I leaned in, my voice a murmur as I spoke. “I’m going to the restroom. Be back in a bit.”

He held my gaze for a beat, a subtle nod confirming he understood. As I slipped out of my chair and walked through the crowd, every step felt like a countdown, anticipation building with each moment. I could still hear Lewis speaking in the background, his voice filling the room, but my mind was a thousand miles away, focused solely on the footsteps I hoped would follow.

I walked down the hallway, heart pounding, the noise from the gala fading as I moved further away. For a moment, a pang of guilt tugged at me. But just as I was about to turn back, I heard the door open and close, footsteps echoing down the hall behind me.

I barely had a chance to breathe before Franco’s hands found my waist, spinning me around, his mouth crashing against mine with a hunger that matched my own. He pulled me into a small service closet, the door clicking shut behind us as he pressed me against the wall, his hands tangled in my hair, his touch lighting every nerve on fire.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered, his voice ragged, his breath hot against my skin.

I gasped, my fingers clutching his jacket, pulling him closer, my mind reeling, my heart pounding with the thrill of finally letting go.

My heart races as Franco's lips claim mine, his touch igniting a fire within me that I can no longer deny. His hands tangle in my hair, pulling me impossibly closer as our tongues dance in a passionate duet. The thrill of forbidden desire courses through my veins, the risk of getting caught only heightening the intensity of the moment.

Franco's strong arms wrap around my waist, lifting me effortlessly as he pins me against the wall. I wrap my legs around his hips, desperate to feel every inch of him pressed against me. His hardness throbs against my core, a delicious friction that makes me ache for more.

“Eres la mujer más hermosa…" Franco whispers, his voice rough with desire. His hands roam my curves, leaving trails of heat in their wake. I shudder under his touch, my fingers clinging to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

In this moment, I know I'm falling for Franco. The passion between us is undeniable, a force that threatens to consume us both. I've never felt this way before, so completely lost in someone else's presence. It's terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Franco's lips trail down my neck, his teeth grazing my sensitive skin. I tilt my head back, giving him better access, a soft moan escaping my lips. His hands slip beneath my dress, caressing the smooth skin of my thighs. I can feel the heat radiating off his body, the evidence of his desire pressing insistently against me.

My fingers tremble as I unbuckle his belt, the metal clinking in the dim light of the closet. Franco's eyes bore into mine, a mix of desire and uncertainty, questioning if this is really happening.

Franco meets my gaze, his own eyes dark with desire and something more - a tenderness that makes my heart ache with a love I never knew I could feel.

In that moment, I know I'm ready to throw caution to the wind, to give in to the all-consuming passion that has taken hold of us both. With a decisive tug, I pull Franco's belt free, letting it fall to the floor with a soft clatter. His breath hitches, a low groan rumbling in his chest as my fingers brush against the hardness straining against his trousers.

"Are you sure, Princesa?" Franco whispers, his voice hoarse with restraint. His eyes are soft and concerned, worried about the consequences.

My heart races as I nod, my eyes locked on Franco's intense gaze. There's no turning back now, no room for doubt or hesitation. I tug at the zipper of his trousers, freeing his throbbing erection from its confines. The heat of his skin against my palm sends a shiver down my spine, a testament to the raw desire coursing through our veins.

Franco wastes no time, his hands deftly hiking up my dress, exposing my bare skin to the cool air of the closet. I see him look at me and smirk, I can tell what he is thinking … I wasn’t wearing any underwear but that was for Lewis…I gasp as his fingers find me, teasing me with a featherlight touch that leaves me aching for more. I wrap my legs around his waist, urging him closer, desperate to feel him inside me.

With a swift thrust, Franco sheathes himself deep within my core, stretching me, filling me in ways I never knew possible. A cry of pleasure tears from my throat, my nails digging into the firm muscles of his back as he begins to move, each stroke driving me closer to the edge of ecstasy. His low moans fill the small closet.

The world narrows down to the sensation of our bodies moving together, the slick slide of skin against skin, the rhythmic pounding of Franco's hips against my own. Lost in the throes of passion, I surrender myself completely, giving myself over to the raw need that consumes us both. It’s captivating and overwhelming.

Franco's lips find my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he growls my name. “Y/N… joder (fuck)” . The sound of his heavy breathing and feeling of him and his hands holding me up send me over the edge.

I can feel the coil of tension building deep within me, the telltale signs of my impending climax threatening to overwhelm me. Franco's thrusts become more erratic, more urgent, as he chases his own release, his fingers digging into my thighs as he holds me close.

With a final, powerful surge, Franco buries himself to the hilt, deep inside me as I shatter around him, my body convulsing with the force of my orgasm. We cling to each other for a moment.

As the last waves of pleasure subside, Franco gently helps me lower my dress back into place, his fingers lingering on my skin as if reluctant to let go. I lean into him, savoring the warmth of his body, the closeness we share in this stolen moment.

Franco's lips find mine once more, but this time, the kiss is slow and tender, a stark contrast to the frenzied passion of mere moments ago. He takes his time, exploring the contours of my mouth, the softness of my lips, as if trying to memorize every detail.

I melt into his embrace, my heart swelling with a sense of connection, of intimacy that goes beyond the physical. In this quiet moment, bathed in the afterglow I feel a shift within me, a realization that what we shared was more than just a fleeting indulgence.

The moment our lips parted, reality crashed back in, filling the small, dimly lit closet with a heaviness that neither of us could ignore. The rush of emotions—the thrill, the warmth, the spark—was still coursing through me, and yet, tangled within it all, was a pang of guilt that settled deep in my chest.

Franco’s hand remained on my cheek for a heartbeat longer, his thumb gently brushing my skin before he let it fall away. He looked at me, his eyes reflecting a mix of exhilaration and uncertainty, like he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. His usually confident demeanor faltered, leaving him looking almost vulnerable, and I couldn’t help but feel the weight of what we’d just done press down on me.

The silence between us was deafening, broken only by the distant murmur of voices from the gala room. Franco took a shaky breath, and for a moment, I thought he might say something to ease the tension, to make sense of what had just happened. But instead, he reached out and pinched my cheek gently, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Guess you really are trouble?” he murmured, his tone light, almost teasing, like he was trying to make this feel less heavy, less real.

I managed a small smile, but it didn’t reach my eyes. The guilt lingered, clawing its way into my heart, reminding me of all the reasons this was wrong. “Yeah… a little,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Franco’s playful expression faltered, and he looked away, running a hand through his hair, clearly just as affected as I was. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he looked like a lost boy, unsure of what to do, of where we stood now.

“You know,” he said softly, his voice laced with a hint of regret, “I… I didn’t mean for this to happen. I mean, I wanted it, but… it’s Lewis. He’s—” He stopped himself, the words hanging in the air, unfinished.

I nodded, understanding exactly what he was trying to say. “I know,” I replied, my chest tightening.

Franco’s jaw tensed, and he gave a slow nod, his eyes still cast downward. “Yeah.…”

This was supposed to feel wrong; it was wrong, and yet… I couldn’t deny the connection, the pull I felt toward him. This moment had only confirmed what I’d been trying to ignore since the moment we met.

Franco looked up, his gaze searching mine, as if he were trying to find some sort of answer in my eyes. “But you’re…,” he said softly, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s like… I can’t help it.”

I felt my throat tighten, and I blinked, trying to hold back the swell of emotions that threatened to spill over. “I don’t know what to do,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “This… us… it doesn’t make sense.”

He let out a soft, humorless laugh, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from my face. “Maybe we’re just estúpido, then,” he said with a faint smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “Two idiots in a closet, making terrible decisions.”

I managed a small laugh, though it was laced with sadness. “Yeah, seems about right.”

He looked at me, and for a moment, the playful light returned to his eyes, even if just briefly. He reached out, pinching my cheek again, a soft, affectionate gesture.

We exchanged one last lingering look before turning toward the door, silently agreeing that we’d return to the gala before anyone noticed we were gone. As Franco pushed the door open, holding it just wide enough for me to slip through, I took a steadying breath, trying to compose myself, to act like nothing had happened.

The murmur of voices and the soft clinking of glasses greeted us as we walked back into the lavish gala room. My heart beat loudly in my chest, the adrenaline of our stolen moment still racing through my veins. I could feel Franco walking beside me, close enough that our hands nearly brushed as we made our way through the crowd, but neither of us dared to look at each other. We both knew that one glance, one shared smile, would be enough to break the fragile resolve we’d managed to muster.

Reaching our table, I took my seat quietly, trying to shake off the feeling that everyone could somehow see the truth, that our secret was written across my face. Franco settled into the chair next to me, his movements just a bit slower, his gaze fixed forward as though he, too, was trying to rein in the storm of emotions beneath his calm exterior.

Lewis was still seated on stage, speaking passionately to the crowd, and for a moment, I allowed myself to focus on him, to remind myself of all the reasons I loved him, all the reasons I was here by his side. But as proud as I was of him, as much as I admired his dedication, I couldn’t stop my mind from wandering back to the man sitting beside me. The man who had somehow slipped through the cracks of my heart when I wasn’t looking.

The air between Franco and me felt charged, almost like static—an invisible thread pulling us closer, even as we both sat perfectly still. The memory of his touch, his lips, lingered, refusing to fade, a quiet ache beneath the surface that neither of us seemed able to shake.

He shifted in his seat, and in the dim glow of the room, I could see his hand twitch slightly, as if he was fighting the urge to reach out, to touch me again. I knew the feeling. The connection was undeniable, as much as we tried to ignore it, to pretend that we could simply go back to being strangers or acquaintances.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him glance over, his gaze soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite define. It wasn’t regret—not exactly. It was something deeper, something I recognized within myself, an unspoken understanding of the intensity that we shared, even if we both knew it was wrong.

A small smile ghosted across his lips, just a hint of the mischief that had drawn me to him in the first place. It was almost as if he could read my mind, as if he knew that the guilt hadn’t erased the spark, the passion. If anything, it had only intensified it, making every stolen glance, every unspoken word, feel heavier, more dangerous.

I returned the faintest of smiles, my gaze flicking forward quickly, aware of the way my heart skipped a beat at the subtle exchange. We were surrounded by people, by friends and strangers alike, yet I felt as though we were in our own little world, a world where the rules and boundaries didn’t matter. A world where, for a few brief moments, we could simply be… us.

The speeches droned on, and though I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting back to the quiet moments we’d just shared, the feel of his hand against mine, his lips warm and insistent. I could feel the tension humming beneath the surface, and despite the guilt, despite the complicated mess we’d created, I knew this was far from over.

We sat there, side by side, our shoulders just barely touching, the passion between us like a fire simmering just beneath the surface. And though we didn’t speak, didn’t look at each other again, I knew that somehow, someway, this pull between us would bring us back together again.

—————————————-

Thank you for reading! 😆

Please like and follow so I know you like my writings!💜

It means a lot! I appreciate you guys! 😘

BTW!!! I will make sure to add the “Franco likes tweet about YN” next time 😅😅😅😅 sorry loves

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #franco colapinto #franco colapinto x reader #franco colapinto x you #franco colapinto fanfic #franco colapinto smut

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freyarabbit · 1 year ago

Text

Yep! Sure thing. I appreciate the detail you added in the request! It helps alot! 💖

◆¡Can't be sneaky with six eyes around!◆

request.1

[9:24 pm]

It's almost thirty minutes past your bedtime. Though that may sound childish, considering your job as of now was far from it. But a fixed bedtime was a necessity, if you wanted to be able to wake up early in the morning without being tired out of your mind.

But, just for today, you sacrificed that, after receiving quite the peculiar message by Megumi, asking you to come over. It's true you need sleep, but Megumi's definitely more important. Plus, this invitation was simply irresistible. You wouldn't want your boyfriend to get all mad and pouty, would you?

Both of you barely got time to do...stuff together during the day because of your horrible jobs, hard studies and clingy friends. Night time was the best to avoid getting caught too.

Slowly making your way over to him from the hallway, being as quiet as possible not to wake up Yuuji, even though you knew how much of a deep sleeper he is.

You opened his door swiftly without knocking "hey" you saw him already standing at the entrance for you, as he pulled you into a kiss, leaving you stunned for a second.

His arms enveloped around you as you both stumbled towards his bed, your minds too focused on each other to keep it down and realize how noisy the wooden floorboards were getting with their creaking. Something you may or may not regret later.

At the quiet and eerie entrance of the jujutsu tech Dormitories, the strongest sorcerer Gojo Satoru, or otherwise known as an annoying goofball by his students, was sneaking around to get his wallet back, which he'd left there by accident, having been busy as hell annoying a certain black haired boy.

He'd figured all of you would be asleep by now, so it would be okay for him to just quietly go in and out.

As he got the brown wallet in his grasp, his sharp ears picked up what sounded like creaking, giggles and whines. Surprisingly, he didn't know what was going on immediately, instead, blindly approaching the source.

Noticing Megumi's door creaked open, he looked in, his eyes widening due to what was before him.

You right beneath him, as he kissed your cheeks, lips, forehead and what not.

Unlike a normal person, who'd probably back away as quickly as possible to avoid getting caught watching, he just let out a loud gasp.

Megumi felt his heart literally jump out of his chest, but not the way it does when he sees you. It was different. Fear and annoyance taking over him, while you looked at the white haired man with your jaw dropped, embarrassment washing over you.

"YOU BOTH ARE TOGETHER LIKE THIS ALREADY?? WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?" He said, in disbelief that the boy he raised since he was 6 years old hadn't told him about his love life.

Megumi looked back at him with an expression that you could only describe as furious but defeated at the same time.

"Will you keep it down?! Do you not know how to knock?? Stop embarrassing me."

You could've sword you saw the biggest blush appearing on his features, as he avoided making eye contact with anyone. You chuckled, which turned into laughter.

This made him turn his toward you, his brows furrowed,

"Seriously???"

Quickly looking back at Gojo he spoke low

"I swear to God if you tell anyone and ruin my life for the hundredth time-"

Gojo Satoru sighs, pouting as he replied, "Fine fine, I won't tell or whatever."

He jokingly scoffed and left, the sounds of you and Megumi discussing the situation could be heard as he did, a few things were running through his mind. He knew both of you had alot of chemistry, but he didn't think you'd get into that much far of a point in your relationship without him knowing. He was glad both of you could feel like normal teenagers for once, but anxiety was still eating away at him deep down. He couldn't let anything ruin this. Which could be hard. He mentally swore to protect all his students, especially Megumi and you.

A smile stretched across his face, as he walked out.

Alright! That was it! I hope this met your expectations! <3

#jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi fushiguro x you #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader

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st-el-la-luna · 1 year ago

Text

Syrupy Sweet: Nasty Baker! Soap x Reader

tumblr deleted the orgininal for whatever reason. Luckily I tracked down a reblog. Edited and added some new stuff (love tumblr for deleting my most popular post, rip my 600+ notes 😔)

NSFW 18+

Soap is forced into an early retirement. He gets a job at a small bakery. And that's where he meets you

➔ gn!afab!reader (described as having boobs & wearing a bra), creepy soap, pervy soap, obsessive soap, lust at first sight, non/dub-con cum eating, dirty thoughts, fantasizing, humping inanimate objects, coming in panta

After so many years working in the military, serving his country. Protecting the people of the world from danger. The last thing Soap expected waas tyo be discharged so suddenly and with so little warning.

Too much time working with explosives has affected his hearing. A bad knife wound, or a torn Achilles tendon. A bad break that never healed right. A couple of head injuries too many.

"An early retirement," they'd called it. Forced retirement more like it. They won't even tell him why, just that he's, "no longer fit for active duty," and that he should be grateful that they, "got him such a nice deal. That he gets to keep his pension."

He’s bitter about it, understandably, He likes his job. He’s good at it. They can’t be serious about this! His performance hasn’t been hindered.

Regardless of the reason, in spite of his arguments, Soap is benched, permanently. Price is apologetic, Ghost is... Distant, though that's to be expected. Gaz promises to keep in touch. And he does keep in touch, they all do.

But it’s ot the same. Soap still feels lonely. Bored. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or all the time he suddenly has on his hands. Doesn’t know how to operate without the adrenaline rush, without something to occupy his hands and minds. He figures that, maybe, he should get a job. A civilian job. Not one of those cushy desk jocky jobs Price had offered him out of pity, Soap wants a job far removed from the military. Really reintegrate himself into normal, civvie life.

After a bit of searching along the drizzly cobbled Glasgowian streets, Soap finds a little coffee shop and bakery nearby. A tiny, quaint little thing, run by a sweet old woman who just doesn't have the energy to keep the doors open on her own.

The place is situated on a street corner, tucked away from the busy traffic-filled streets. A soft bell jingles when the door opens. The sign is hsand painted. The place, though clearly aged, is well looked after, loved. The wood floors and counters shine; the tables and chairs, though antique, are comfortable, well made; plants hang from the ceiling; and a couple bookshelves line a wall, a leave a book take a book community library.

Soap applies for the position and despite his lack of experience, he gets the job. Something about him reminding the old woman of her own son.

At first, Soap worked there with her. Learning the ins and outs of the trade. How to make meringue and bread and macrons and creme brûlé. It's not easy, not at first, but with practice and time, he gets the hang of it.

He figures it's because of his experience with explosives and chemistry. Baking is... Kind of the same thing.

Eventually, he's left to tend to the day-to-day affairs of the bakery. The woman still writes all the recipes and makes some of the breads. But he's the one managing the front of the house.

It's where he meets you.

Sweet. Kind. Polite. Breathtaking. Irresistible. Sexy. You.

You come tumbling into the warm bakery on a day when the weather is particularly bad, even for Scotland. Strong winds, cold rains threatening to turn to hail, thunder rumbling in the distance.

You're soaked to the bone. Hair dripping. Shoes leaving puddles in your wake as each of your steps is announced by a wet squish. Your full cheeks bitten by the cold, fingertips numb, you offer him a blinding smile.

He's more focused on your tits though. And your bra. Visible through your thin, now see-through, shirt. Black lace. He can see how your chest rises and falls with each breath you take. He can even see a small mole, or maybe a birthmark, on the swell just above the cup of your bra. He wants to sink his teeth into you. Wants to suck that mark into his mouth, chew and lick at it, make it bigger. Make it his. Make you his.

He's drooling a little, he realizes absently.

"Hey," you say softly, wiping at your nose with your sleeve. Hands curled into adorable little sweater paws as you try to wipe your wet hands off on your equally wet pants.

Soap just stares at you, mouth opening and closing like a fish. Shell shocked. He... He’s never... You’re so... He... Holy fuck.

Eventually, he clears his throat and manages a smile, stepping a bit closer to the counter so he can hide the growing tent in his pants. He forces himself to meet your eyes, rather than stare at your chest.

But they’re staring at me, his innermost thoughts whine, wanton and airy in his mind. So desperate for attention... for love... ready to be suckled and bit and groped and pinched...

Johnny leans forward, elbows resting on the counter and chuckles, flashing you an easy, charming smile. "Hey... Looking for something to warm you up?"

Please say you've already found what you're looking for. Please say you want him to warm you up. With his hands. His mouth. His cock. Please say–

"Yeah... Do you guys do hot chocolates?"

"It's not on the menu, but I've got my own stash in the back," he says as he looks you up and down. But how could you blame him? What with your... everything! This is your fault, honestly. Dirty, dirty, little thing, wearing a white shirt in the rain. You know what you’re doing. Something sinister and heated bubbles in his gut. A thick, molten, syrupy desire, a primal need. A sort of instinctive pull, a fish lured in by the soft glow of an angler fish. A moth to a flame. Helpless but to stare, slack jawed, and fighting back drool, as you stare up at him expectantly, He smiles, his lips spreading further as he notices your flustered state, how you shift under his stare, biting your lip as he looks you up and down. Logically, it’s a nervous reaction. But, in Soap’s quickly spiraling mind, it’s a clean indicator that you want him too. "I'll make one, special for you, darling."

Your eyes sparkle, your smile tears the breath from his lungs. "Really? Oh my god, thank you."

Soap grabs a mug from the shelf and twirls it around his finger. He pulls up his sleeves, bunching them around his mid biceps. He flexes, purposefully, showing off the hard-earned muscles in his arms, the scars, the prominent veins, his big, strong hands. Hands that would look so perfect around your neck. Or holding your wrists. Or deep between your shaking legs reaching deep and good, far past anything you could reach on his own. He wonders if you’re a crier. He hopes that you are.

Soap notices the way your eyes fall to the newly exposed skin. The way your jaw drops a little. The way you close your mouth. The way you glance away before quickly looking back. The way your throat bobs when you swallow...

Holy shit.

He can give you something else to swallow if you'll let him. Please let him.

He rolls his hips against the counter and lets out a stuttering breath through his nose. His lips part. His tongue feels thick and leaden in his mouth.

A moan bubbles in his throat, he disguises it as a cough. "Can..." He swallows another noise as he shifts his stance, achingly cock pressed against the teeth of his zipper. He makes a show of dusting the counter off, acting like he's tossed something into the bin so he can adjust his pants. "Can I get you anything else?"

Your eyes, gorgeous eyes, scan the menu and the display. "A cinnamon bun?" You ask, pointing to the delicacy through the glass case. "Please and thank you."

"You're in luck," he says, rutting against the counter again, as quick and harsh as he can without drawing attention. A part of him thoough, a sick, twisted, part of him that quickly spreads his mind like a weed, corrupting and poisoning, wants you to notice. Wants you to catch him. To punish him. "Just made a fresh batch... I've just got to head back and ice them."

"Oh, I'm fine with one of them from the display, you don't need to trouble yourself."

Oh, and how sweet you are...

You keep chewing on your bottom lip. Part of him wants to stop you, tell you that that’s his job. Wants to bite your lips until they’re raw and swollen.

He's fucked. Well and truly fucked.

He smiles. You’re blissfully ignorant of the darkness lurking in his eyes. "No trouble at all... It's my pleasure."

And it is his pleasure. Very much so.

He comes out a bit later, a little out of breath. A little red in the face. A couple buttons undone on his shirt.

"Hot in there," he says with a smile, setting the mug and a cinnamon bun on the counter in front of you. He sets another little plate down, a doughnut. Chocolate frosting with a cream filling, the sticky white substance still pouring from the hole.

"I uh, I didn't order that," you say with a little, awkward laugh. "The doughnut."

"I know you didn't, sweet thing... It's a new recipe I've been trying out. Trying to get right... Mind telling me what you think? It's free of charge, promise."

"Oh," you blink, staring up at him with those wide eyes. God, how he wants to see those eyes watering. How he wants to see those eyes tearing up as you choke on his cock. How he wants to see you cry as he fucks you. You smile. "Thank you!"

You pay for your drink and dessert and blink up at him from under your lashes. Your smile turns shy as you chew your lip. Stop it. Stop it. You’re going to make him lose his mind. You have to know what you’re doing to him. You have to. "Keep the change."

He smiles. "Thanks."

You find a seat in the corner and settle in the corner with a book. Soap keeps an eye on you the whole time. Watches you as much as he can without attracting unwanted attention.

His cock throbs in his pants when he sees you take your first bite of the cinnamon roll. When you wipe at the icing with your thumb and lick it clean. He watches with delight as you eat and drink, rolling his hips against the counter in time with the bobbing of your throat as you swallow.

Soap watches you with rapt attention as you enjoy the desserts. His lips parted, jaw slack, drooling. He wonders if he could convince you to lick it away. He is so glad that he stopped by the office to record the security footage. He’s going to be watching this over and over and... Fuck!

With a final grind of his aching cock against the counter, his boxers are flooded with a wet, sticky warmth. He mourns it going to waste like that. His cum belongs in you. Your tight pussy, round ass, past your full lips.

"How was it?" He asks, breathless, when you return your dishes to the counter. He shifts his stance, hiding the wet spot in his pants. He's not embarrassed that he came in his pants just from watching how your throat moves as you swallow. At watching the way that you lave your tongue over your fingers, licking the thick glaze away with a spit-slicked tongue.

He just doesn't want to weird you out.

"It was amazing," you say. "I really liked the balance of the sweet with the salty... Sometimes the sugar is just... Too much."

"I agree," Soap says, breathless. He swallows a lump in his throat. "I agree."

You become a regular from then on. He always gets you freshly baked items, from the back. No matter how busy.

He's not supposed to alter the recipes. But he doubts the lady will mind that he made a change. All he did was put a little love into the recipes. A little bit of himself in the sour cream glaze.

Keep your eyes peeled for a part 1.5 involving what soap did in the back room!

Comments and reblogs help motivate!

Masterlist!

#call of duty #cod mwii #cod #john soap mactavish #soap x reader #x reader #dark fic #johnny soap mactavish #cod x reader #nastybaker!soap

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pepi1989 · 4 months ago

Note

Good luck with your surgery, hope everything goes well!! ❤️

I am starved of Ben content, so maybe something angsty about the reader being unsure if they are even compatible (maybe reader is a fellow Tennis player) and there is A LOT of chemistry and longing and Ben finalld convinced reader to give him a chance and their relationship a try? (I also love love love happy endings lol)

Again, good luck and love your writing!!

Hi love, thanks for the request 💖

More Than Just Chemistry - Ben Shelton

It’s not like you didn’t see it. The way Ben’s eyes found yours whenever you were near, how he’d throw that lazy, irresistible smile your way after a successful match, or even how his hand would linger just a little too long on your arm after a hug, like he was waiting for you to realize something.

But that was the problem: you did realize it.

It was impossible to ignore the chemistry, the way your heart raced every time you were around him, how even in the heat of competition, you felt like you were in sync with him, like somehow, in the world of chaos and schedules and matches, Ben Shelton just…fit.

Yet, the gnawing doubt in your chest remained.

Were you really compatible? Tennis wasn’t just a game for either of you; it was your life, your career. And as much as you admired Ben’s easygoing, playful nature, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was enough. Would the chemistry between you even hold up against the demands of a professional tennis life, or would it fizzle out like so many relationships before?

You sighed, tightening your grip on the racquet as you stood on the practice court, eyes flicking to Ben on the other side. He wasn’t even looking at you, but that only made it worse. How was he always so calm, so sure? Meanwhile, you were a mess of overthought, trapped in a whirlwind of what-ifs and maybes.

“Your serve.”

His voice pulled you out of your thoughts, and you blinked, focusing on him. That smile was there again, teasing and warm, making your heart skip for the thousandth time. With a silent nod, you tossed the ball up, your mind not really on the game as the familiar routine carried you through the motion. You knew Ben could tell. He always did.

The ball landed out.

“Again.” His tone was light, but you could hear the concern laced beneath it.

Your chest tightened as you got ready to serve again, but this time, your hand faltered, and you just let the ball drop to the ground, unable to hold it together any longer.

“Hey.” Ben jogged over to you, the racquet hanging loosely in his hand as he stopped in front of you. “What’s going on? You’ve been off today.”

You swallowed, the tension building up until you felt like you might burst. But how could you tell him? How could you look into those bright eyes and admit that you were afraid you wouldn’t work, not because of him, but because of you?

“I just…” You trailed off, frustrated. Ben waited, patient as always, but you knew that look. He wasn’t going to let you walk away from this conversation. “I’m not sure we’re compatible,” you blurted, and the words hung in the air, heavier than you had imagined.

His brow furrowed, and for the first time in a long while, you saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “You’re not sure we’re compatible?”

You took a shaky breath, willing yourself to be brave, to put it all out there. “I mean, look at us, Ben. You’re so laid-back, you always know what you want, and you make everything look so easy. But me… I’m overthinking everything. And tennis, this is our life. How do we fit something like this into all of that?”

Ben stared at you for a moment, his jaw tight. You could tell he was trying to process it all, trying to find the right words. “You think we don’t fit?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, voice barely audible. “Maybe we’re just good on paper. Maybe it’s just…chemistry.”

“Just chemistry?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it, only disbelief. “You think what we have is just chemistry?”

You looked away, the ache in your chest growing heavier by the second. “Ben, I don’t know what we have, okay? I know there’s something between us, but it’s complicated. You have your career, I have mine, and I don’t want to ruin that. What if we try, and it doesn’t work?”

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “What if it does work?”

His words were simple, but they hit you hard. What if it did? What if everything you were afraid of was just that, fear? But how could you take that leap?

“I don’t want to hurt you,” you whispered, eyes searching his for an answer.

Ben’s expression softened, and in a rare moment of vulnerability, he reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours. “You’re not going to hurt me. I’m a big boy, I can handle a lot more than you think. But you know what I can’t handle?” He stepped closer, his voice lowering. “The thought of not even giving this a chance. You feel it, don’t you?”

Your heart pounded. Of course, you felt it. Every second you were around him, you felt it. But was that enough?

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know.” His voice was soft, reassuring. “But you don’t have to be. I’m not asking for a perfect relationship, or for us to have it all figured out right now. I’m just asking for a chance. We’ll figure the rest out along the way.”

The sincerity in his voice made you feel like the ground beneath you was shifting, your doubts slowly crumbling under the weight of his words. Could it really be that simple? Just…trying?

You looked up at him, your heart in your throat. “Okay,” you said, the word falling from your lips before you had the chance to overthink it again. “Let’s try.”

For a moment, neither of you moved. It felt like the world had paused, holding its breath as you made that choice. Then, in the next instant, Ben’s face broke into that smile, the one that made your knees weak every single time.

“You won’t regret this,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms with a grin so full of relief that it made your own doubts seem foolish.

And suddenly, just like that, the tension, the uncertainty, everything you’d been holding onto so tightly…it all fell away. In Ben’s arms, you didn’t have to have all the answers. You didn’t have to know what was going to happen tomorrow or a month from now. For once, you let yourself be in the moment, trusting that what you had was more than just chemistry.

Maybe you didn’t have it all figured out yet. Maybe there would be bumps along the way, and sure, tennis would always be a priority for both of you. But you knew this now, you fit. Not just on the court, but off it too.

And as Ben pulled back to look at you, his forehead resting against yours with that same soft smile, you felt a sense of peace. “We’re going to be just fine,” he whispered.

You smiled, finally letting yourself believe it. “Yeah, we are.”

#tennis x reader #ben shelton #ben shelton imagine #ben shelton x reader #tennis

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scripts4dreamers · 10 days ago

Text

All I see

AN: So, I wrote a Garrus Vakarian piece a while back and one of my friends pointed out that I had committed the cardinal sin, which is making two characters have healthy communication about an issue. She said "where is the ANGST. Where is the CODEPENDENCY" and, you know what? She's a real one for that. So, here is me going back to my teen years, rewriting a similar situation with 10x the miscommunication and jealousy, plus my ham fisted attempt at smut, which I usually avoid. I hope you enjoy! Warnings: Mature, sexual content and themes Spoilers: None

As he watched Shepard stumble off to the bathroom, her naked skin catching the light in a way that made him ache, Garrus had to admit, he’d really screwed himself this time. It had seemed so harmless at first, just two friends helping one another unwind, a much needed release of tension after hard fights with the added bonus of getting to try something new sexually with someone he could trust. Casual, meaningless sex. He’d done it before, he’d even enjoyed doing it before but, damnit, it had gotten complicated quickly. Not for Shepard. No, as far as Garrus could tell she was thoroughly enjoying their arrangement but, then again, Shepard hadn’t been violently suppressing her feelings for him for the better part of three years. Shepard wasn’t a closeted hopeless romantic whose heart famously lived in her dick. Shepard didn’t live in a ship - hell, a universe - filled to the brim with people who wanted to fuck Garrus. Oh no, that particular punishment was reserved solely for him.

It was a strange kind of torment to watch the woman you’ve been falling for for years, your best friend in the galaxy, and the universe’s only hope, get flirted with by every Turian, Asari, Drell and Human they came across mere hours after she was screaming your name and coming all over your cock as she begged you to pull her hair harder, but here Garrus was. At first it hadn’t bothered him much. Shepard was powerful, she was beautiful, she was charismatic and charming, she was dependable and dutiful and creative. She was irresistible to him, so how could he begrudge her for being irresistible to everyone else as well? And, most importantly, she came home to him. Let the security guy at C-Sec daydream about the famous Commander Shepard, he would think to himself, it was Garrus who got to make that dream a reality. But then time started to pass, the sex got infinitely better and Garrus’ feelings for Shepard got infinitely more complicated.

Garrus’s long held assertion that his feelings for Shepard were just a temporary infatuation stemming from how much she had changed his life on board the Normandy SR1 mixed with the heady, intoxicating relief of finding out she wasn’t dead had started to ring hollow. Too much time had passed and his feelings were too tender and specific. He couldn’t blame his desire for her on mere curiosity anymore either, or on the normal urges that pop up between crew mates on high stakes missions. He couldn’t even consider what they were doing just fucking anymore. In his mind he had started using other phrases; sleeping together, going to bed, being intimate, all things that had not been part of their initial agreement and were not considered casual, no strings attached sex. It was getting in his head and, unfortunately, Shepard had started to notice. She hadn’t said anything to him outright about his weird behaviour, but he could see that she wanted to. She was giving Garrus a chance to bring it up himself which, for obvious reasons, he couldn’t do.

In short, his stupid, achy, sentimental heart was dangerously close to ruining a good thing for him. Because, to be clear, this arrangement was a very good thing for Garrus. His battlefield chemistry with Shepard, which Garrus considered to be unmatched, so perfectly aligned that it sometimes made him want to believe in god just to have an explanation, paled in comparison to what they could do to one another in bed. It had taken them a while to get there, of course. Their first time had been so overshadowed by nerves and adrenaline and the sheer newness of it all that they had both been somewhat bumbling but, even then, it had been one of the best nights of his life. He had never been able to laugh with someone in bed, to clang his head against theirs wrong and not spoil the moment. It had been so exciting to have to learn someone’s body again, to be taught what she liked, to show her what he liked. They had been so eager, so well meaning and comfortable around each other that any awkwardness seemed endearing, and they were both quick studies.

He heard the shower start up. It was late, probably coming up on 2am, but Shepard hated going to bed sweaty and he’d put her through her paces that night, hoping to drown the memories of the young Asari who had playfully pulled Shepard’s hair at Afterlife and offered to take her home in memories of him, of the pleasure he could bring her. He was starting to worry that he’d been too rough. Shepard hadn’t said anything to make him feel that way, if anything she had seemed very receptive to the way his talons had dug into her hips and ass, but still. Garrus had been angry for a moment there and he never wanted to take that out on Shepard. If nothing else, she was his best friend. She had been there for him through everything, she didn’t deserve to become his punching bag just because his feelings got hurt.

Feeling guilty, Garrus followed the sound of the shower into the bathroom, crossing his arms over his carapace and merely watching for a moment. Shepard was so human. She was humming to herself, a tuneless melody that spoke to how satisfied she was. He could see the beginning of bruises on her hips and the slight outline of his teeth where he had bitten her shoulder and his guilt intensified. She just looked so…so vulnerable without her clothes or armor on. Her body curved and bent in places he couldn’t understand. Every inch of her was soft and unprotected, even her neck, chest and thighs which, he felt, should really have some sort of plating, if only to protect her main arteries. The smell of her shampoo, mixed with their lingering sex was heady and, as he watched her run her hands over her neck he could feel the first stirrings of arousal, but he pushed it down. She caught his eye and gave him that special knowing smile she reserved just for nights like his and beckoned him in. Garrus knew he shouldn’t, but he hated denying her anything, especially when it was something he also wanted desperately.

The warm rain felt wonderful against his plates, but it was nothing compared to Shepard’s water-slick skin beneath his palms. He licked a stripe down the back of her neck, letting his rough tongue scrape over the sensitive skin at the base of her ear and where her neck and shoulder met. She hummed her appreciation as he massaged her lower back, pulling her against his carapace and slowly moving his attention to her thighs.

“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely into her ear as he traced the blossoming bruises, “I-uh-I got a little carried away.”

She chuckled, “Yeah, you were really in it there, huh? Don’t apologize though, it was hot.”

He flushed, the skin of his torso and neck darkening slightly at the praise, “Still, I know I need to be more careful with-” he gestured with his talons.

Shepard rolled her eyes dramatically, turning to face him, “I’m not made of glass, Vakarian,” she reminded him leaning back against the shower wall and tugging him forward as she pressed her thigh in between his legs, “I’m not going to shatter if you squeeze me wrong.”

He groaned as her thigh pressed up against his groin plate, which was already loose and getting looser by the second.

“No, you won’t shatter,” he conceded, leaning his head down so his forehead was almost touching hers, his hands finding purchase on her lower back as he rolled his hips against her thigh, “but you might pop. You humans do have very thin skin.”

She chuckled, moving her hand up to absentmindedly scrape the back of his neck, “I trust you,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

Her eyes met his, wide and soft with affection and the complete acceptance she had always offered him so freely. He remembered that exact same look in her eye when she had first met him on the Citadel, when he’d told her about Dr Saleon, when he’d gone back to the Citadel. There had been something else in her eyes when she found him on Omega, a kind of frantic relief that still made him thrum with pleasure to remember, but the acceptance had never wavered. Whether he deserved it…well, he tried to. Spirits, he was always trying to. It was too easy to imagine things being different when she looked at him like that. If he wasn’t careful he would lose himself to the fantasy of them, so he pushed it away.

“Still,” he replied lamely, just to say something.

There was a moment of silence, Shepard’s gaze turning knowing as she waited, again, for an explanation of his behavior that wasn’t forthcoming.

“So,” Shepard eventually continued, “what got you so worked up, Vakarian? Could it have been that pretty little Human that was all over you at Afterlife?”

Garrus recoiled, genuinely stunned, “Excuse me?”

“Sarah,” she laughed, “you remember, she bought you those drinks to say thank you for helping me solve Nef’s murder?”

Garrus frowned, “The blonde?”

“Yes, the blonde!”

Garrus vaguely remembered her, but blonde was really the best he could do. At the time he had been preoccupied by the Asari and the hair pulling and all the giggling that was happening while he tried not to shatter the glass he was holding.

“No, she wasn’t-” Garrus started, “you think she was hitting on me?”

For a moment Shepard’s smile almost looked strained, but it vanished before he could be sure as she sighed dramatically and pushed off the wall. For a second she was flush against Garrus, making his breath catch in his throat and sending a bolt of desire straight to his cock, but then she just brushed by him, hopping out of the shower and wrapping herself in a towel.

“She was definitely hitting on you,” she continued, as though nothing had happened, “she even gave me her number to give to you.”

Garrus let out a breath of frustration, but secretly relished the teasing as he followed her out of the shower and back into the main bedroom.

“No she didn’t,” he insisted, “you’re making this up.”

“Swear to god,” Shepard insisted, rifling through her nightstand and pulling out an Afterlife napkin.

She passed it over to him, her wet fingers eating away at the corners of the paper but not yet blurring the little string of numbers written in loopy, black ink next to the name ‘Sarah’. There was another number too, and another name; ‘Ameera’, and Garrus felt that roiling, heavy jealousy sink into the pit of his stomach again.

“You didn’t give this to me,” he pointed out.

She snorted, having settled on the bed and now roughly towel drying her hair, “I was going to, but you were fairly, shall we say, preoccupied when you arrived here. Either way, I’m giving it to you now.”

Shepard was right, when he’d shown up at her cabin he’d barely given her time to say ‘come in’ before he was slipping his tongue into her mouth and dragging his talons down her sides, but he wasn’t in the mood to be reasonable and fair.

“Seems like I’m not the only one with an admirer,” he pointed out, “you-uh-you gonna call this Ameera person?”

Shepard shrugged, an inscrutable look on her face, “I hadn’t given it much thought, really,” she said, “seems like a big risk with everything going on. Plus,” she smiled at him, “I’m not sure I’m really looking for anything else right now.”

Garrus barely heard her.

His own jealousy was pounding in his head and, before he could think it through, he heard himself say, “You should. It would be nice to finally get a break from being the person in charge of keeping you satisfied. Maybe we should do a double date.”

She didn’t respond for a long time, just holding his gaze as something he couldn’t identify flickered across her face. Hurt maybe? Embarrassment? Whatever it was, it made Garrus feel like an ass, but he was still riding too high on pride and jealousy to admit he may have crossed a line.

“Is that what you want?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Garrus replied immediately, the lie coming easier than he had expected, “the blonde-” he checked her name on the tissue, “Sarah, was cute. Plus, we could use a night out, right?”

Shepard didn’t meet his eye, moving to her wardrobe and pulling on clothes, “Sure. You set it up with Sarah and I’ll call Ameera,” she said simply.

Garrus knew he’d messed up somewhere. The way Shepard was moving was mechanical, militaristic, the way she stripped down and armored up before missions rather than the lazy, teasing way she tended to get dressed when they were together. She didn’t try to look at or talk to him. She didn’t suggest that he get dressed, or tell him to leave, but he felt like he should anyway.

“Yeah, I-uh-” Garrus cleared his throat, slowly starting to pull his own clothes on, “I’ll do that. Is there anywhere on Omega you particularly want to go, or anything you want to do?”

Shepard shrugged with one shoulder, still not really looking at him as she buttoned up her pajama top, “Whatever you want, Garrus. You know Omega better than I do. Maybe ask Sarah.”

Ouch. Yeah, okay, he was definitely being dismissed. He wanted to take all this back, slip back into their little bubble of post-coital bliss, but he didn’t know how to. He wasn’t even sure what exactly had happened, but it was clear that he had shattered something delicate.

He stood, moving behind her and gently wrapping his arms around her waist. If she had been Turian, this would have been an explicitly sexual move, but he knew it wasn’t the same for humans. Still, he kept his touch gentle, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head. Shepard froze, letting out a small breath, but otherwise did not react at all. Reluctantly, Garrus let go.

“Goodnight, Shepard.” he said, hoping she could hear the apology in his voice.

She gave him a weak, half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, “Night, Garrus.”

And as the door slid shut between them, leaving Garrus to make his way slowly to the crew quarters on his own, he couldn’t help but marvel that, this time, it was his mouth, not his heart, that was ruining a good thing.

—

As it turned out, Sarah was very sweet, very talkative and very boring. She seemed thrilled to be out with a Turian and especially one so handsome and rugged looking she kept reminding him. She had been so enthusiastic about the date when he called that it had actually made Garrus think that maybe it hadn’t been a terrible, impulsive mistake brought on by his own immaturity but, 20 minutes in and Garrus was already wondering if he could fake a Normandy emergency and bail. He was nervous and hyper alert, not out of a desire to have the date go well, but because he knew that Shepard and Ameera would be arriving any minute. Shepard, gentlewomen that she was, had insisted on picking Ameera up from her apartment and walking her to the place Garrus had selected, suggesting to Garrus that this would give them both time to get to know their dates one-on-one before all joining up for drinks.

Garrus had selected a hole-in-the-wall place where they played live music, but people could still have a conversation. They served good drinks for cheap and, with how dull Sarah was, Garrus was taking full advantage. Consequently, by the time Sarah squealed out a greeting and jumped up to hug the incoming guests, Garrus had already developed a bit of a buzz.

Which was a mistake.

He took one look at Shepard, saw her arm strung carelessly around Ameera’s waist, met her eyes and-spirits alive, what the fuck was he thinking? This whole thing was a fucking terrible idea. She looked good. More than good, she looked ravishing. She had wrapped her soft, curvy frame in a black dress that left very little to the imagination. Her shoulders were bare, the dress’ long sleeves falling down her upper arms in a way that screamed casual elegance. Her hair was styled so that it all fell over her left shoulder in soft waves. Her eyes were lined with black, her lips painted a deep blood red that he longed to smudge against her skin with his thumb. Worst of all, her waist was wrapped in something - a corset, the functional part of his brain supplied - which had been tightened to accentuate her already mesmerizing figure. He hadn’t even known she owned a corset. He also noticed, with a rush of possessiveness, that she had covered his bite mark with makeup. That wouldn’t do, a feral part of him whispered, that wouldn’t do at all.

When their eyes met the world went quiet for a moment. Nothing else existed. No one else mattered, just Garrus and Shepard. His Shepard. He wanted to pull her close and bury his head in her hair. He wanted to kiss that red lipstick right off her, he wanted to see it smeared across his chest plates as she trailed her lips along his torso and-

She looked away, smiling as Sarah - his actual date - jumped up and pulled her into a hug and the moment ended. Sound and movement returned to the world and Garrus found himself awkwardly greeting Ameera and doing the classic ‘haha, aren’t humans so strange with their random acts of public affection’ shtick as their dates talked and he tried to convince his body to calm down.

Ameera seemed nice, if a bit cool with him, her eyes flicking to Shepard with an air of possessiveness that he understood better than most. He almost wanted to laugh at the way the Asari kept a hand on her at all times, angling her body so that she was between Shepard and Sarah, as though Sarah was the threat rather than Garrus, whose genital plates were embarrassingly loose just from looking at Shepard.

“Sorry we’re late,” Shepard sighed, “the walk took a little longer than I had anticipated.”

“We got lost,” Ameera gushed, squeezing Shepard’s arm, “just too busy talking I suppose.”

Yeah right, Garrus thought to himself. How do you live on Omega and get lost on a walk? Still, he gritted his teeth and smiled.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Sarah assured, “Garrus and I were having a lovely chat.”

Shepard’s eyes flicked to him, as though looking for his confirmation, and he forced himself to agree, “Yeah, glad you took your time.”

He ushered the new couple into the booth he had picked out and was immediately confronted by another unwitting mistake. He had picked a small circular booth that was far enough away from the stage to facilitate talking and private enough that no one was likely to notice the famous Commander Shepard. This meant that, when they all took their seats, and with Ameera insisting on being between her date and Sarah, Garrus found himself next to Shepard rather than across from her. He had been preparing to be across from her. As it was, her bare thigh was pressed against his leg, their torsos mere inches apart as they settled in. His breath caught in his throat and he was immensely grateful that no one at the table could register sub harmonics. There was a moment of tense silence.

“So, what’s everyone drinking?” Shepard asked, breaking the awkwardness with her casual, easy charm.

Conversation restarted, flowing more easily than he had feared, even as every nerve in his body seemed focussed on the tantalising pressure of Shepard’s leg against his own. This was going to be a long, long night.

—

By the time they slipped out of the bar Garrus had picked out, Shepard was wrecked. The constant scrape of his leg against hers, his voice so close to her ear, rumbling through her like a rockslide, the tension between them and the steady stream of drinks had left her feeling strung out and jittery. Ameera had, luckily, interpreted it as nerves. She had agreed to let Shepard walk her home which both made Shepard very happy and Garrus seemingly very unhappy. He had flared his mandibles in a way that, to her, read as aggression, but that Ameera seemed unphased by when she’d suggested it. Whatever it had meant, the sight had reminded Shepard of what it felt like to run her tongue along that mandible, how he moaned and sighed her name when she followed her tongue with her teeth and bit down on the soft skin of his jaw. The corset had been a dig. Honestly, her whole outfit had been a dig, and she was mortified to discover that she was the one suffering, not him.

The whole night had been a disaster. From the second she had arrived and seen that little blonde all over Garrus, she had known that there was no way this would work. No amount of friendship and desire to be the best companion to Garrus she could be could override her natural inclination to lose her shit when someone came for her man.

Not that Garrus was actually her man, she reminded herself. They weren’t anything, really. Just friends helping one another scratch an itch. They were like sparring partners, just naked sparring partners. That had been the agreement, casual, no attachments or obligations, just pure sex. She had thought she could handle doing things the Turian way but seeing Garrus with Sarah had felt like an omniblade to the gut. She was a soldier, she knew she could push her feelings down and put on a brave face but it was clear that their arrangement had to end, and sooner rather than later. How to tell Garrus that without revealing that she tripped and fallen into having a seismic, friendship ruining crush on him would be something she worked out later. Right now she just had to get through the night and make it back to her cabin so she could sob her eyes out in peace.

Right at that moment Ameera snapped her out of her sulking by squeezing her waist, and Shepard felt a pang of guilt. She really was lovely and charming, if a bit possessive. If things had been different-if Shepard could be different, then maybe-

“This is mine,” Ameera sighed, stopping outside the door.

There was a moment where Shepard wasn’t sure what to do.

“Well, I’ll-uh-oh!”

Before she could finish, Ameera had backed her up against a streetlamp and kissed her. Shepard froze for a second but then thought, fuck it. Ameera’s lips were soft, so much more like a human’s than Garrus’ and, as she slid her hands up into Shepard’s hair, she couldn’t help but sigh. Ameera definitely knew what she was doing. Her tongue, so short and smooth, teased Shepard’s bottom lip, asking for entrance, which Shepard granted instinctively. Ameera’s body was soft and forgiving where it pressed against her own, her hands were gentle and familiar as they carded through Shepard’s hair. It was nice. It was simple and all Shepard could think about was Garrus. When they broke apart, breathless, and panting, Ameera’s eyes were bright and sparkling and Shepard felt sick with wanting, sick with needing something she knew Ameera couldn’t give.

“Do you-do you want to come up?” she asked.

Shepard bit her lip, her mind and body warring with one another for a moment before she forcibly took a step back and shook her head, “Thank you for a lovely evening, Ameera.”

The Asari looked disappointed for a moment, but didn’t push, letting Shepard slip away into the night without insisting she call again. It was a relief. As the cold air bit into her skin, Shepard finally felt her head start to clear. Desire still pounded through her like a kick drum, but she could at least order her thoughts into something resembling coherence. The walk back to the Normandy’s docking station was long, long enough for Shepard to start planning the conversation she would have to have with Garrus sometime in the coming days. It broke her heart to even consider severing the connection they had been building. In all her years of service, no one had ever understood her the way Garrus did. No one had ever made her feel safer or more comfortable, no one could pull her out of her head and back into her body the way he could. He was her best friend, but he needed something she couldn’t give him and, as much as she wanted to cling to what they had, she had to love him enough to let him go.

EDI welcomed her back to the ship, which was silent and empty at this time of night. She took a deep breath, letting the familiar surroundings sooth her fraying nerves. She wondered if Garrus had even come back to the Normandy. Had Sarah made him the same offer Ameera had given Shepard? Had he accepted? She stepped into the elevator, torturing herself by imagining Sarah and Garrus tangled up together, his hands on her hips, her head thrown back as he tasted her neck. No awkward learning phase for them. No, Garrus knew how to pleasure human women now. At least she’d helped with that, she thought bitterly.

The elevator dinged, opening on the door to her cabin and Shepard sighed with relief, desperate to wash this horrific night off her as soon as possible. She stepped inside, catching a glimpse of herself reflected in the glass of the fishtank. At least she looked good. Kasumi had talked her into buy this dress on their last trip to the Citadel, she had to remember to-

“Garrus,” she said, shocked to find him sitting on the edge of her bed, holding his head with his elbows resting on his knees.

He looked up, his blue eyes dark with something that made her skin tingle, and let out a breath of his own, standing and making his way towards her quickly.

“Shepard,” he replied, his voice dripping with relief and some other emotion she couldn’t identify as he gripped her waist with one hand and cupped her face with the other. He brought his head down, resting his forehead against hers, “I wasn’t sure you were coming back.”

“I wasn’t sure you were coming back,” she replied, trying for a light tone and failing miserably, “Sarah seemed really into you.”

He growled, his hand tightening on her waist, “Fuck Sarah. Shepard, this whole night was-”

“I can’t do this anymore, Garrus,” she said quickly, forcing the words out before the comfort of his presence shook her resolve, “I’m sorry, I thought I could but I-” she detangled the bodies, taking half a step back and crossing her arms over her chest, “I just can’t.”

He looked like she had slapped him and Shepard felt her heart break just a little more at the confusion in his face.

“You can’t-what?” he asked, stepping towards her again, one arm still outstretched as though to hold her, “I don’t understand.”

Shepard was mortified to find that tears were pricking at the corners of her eyes and threatening to spill over and she tried to force them back with sheer willpower.

“I’m not a Turian,” she eventually said with a rueful laugh, “I thought I could handle sleeping with you and you sleeping with other people, but I can’t, alright? I’m a stupid fucking sentimental human and I just can’t have you all to myself at night and then watch you cozy up to other women during the day. It’s too hard, I can’t do it.”

Well, fuck. That was not what she had practiced. What happened to ‘the good of the mission’ and ‘too busy’ and ‘need to start getting more sleep’? She had so many lines prepared that didn’t boil down to ‘love me, love me, love me’ and that is what came out of her mouth? She felt vulnerable and exposed, like a bug under a microscope. All her ugliness was on display, all her insecurity, her jealousy, her weakness. She hated it. Every instinct told her she needed to bolt, but she felt like she was anchored to the ground, held in place by Garrus’s eyes on her, heavy and dark with expectation.

He was quiet for a long time before he let out a bark of harsh laughter, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“What?”

He did grab her now, pulling her hips against his as he continued, “You think I want anyone else? You think I haven’t been going out of my fucking mind waiting for you to come back, just praying-praying, Shepard-that you weren’t off falling in love with that Asari somewhere?” His voice was frantic, words spilling out like water from a faucet that had been opened too wide. She opened her mouth to reply, but no words came out and Garrus just continued, “Every time that woman touched you I wanted to rip her arm off.” he traced her lips with one of his talons, his eyes flicking between following the path of his finger and holding her own, “Did you really think that coming home to me with your lipstick smudged, smelling like some other woman wouldn’t drive me insane?”

God almighty he was sexy when he was angry. She knew there were things she needed to unpack, feelings that needed discussing when the waves of relief stopped cresting over her, but all that seemed to matter was that Garrus wanted her. Garrus wanted her. Not just someone to take the edge off, but her specifically. He had been waiting for her, not just because he knew she was someone he could fuck, but because he was worried, he was jealous, he was hoping she would come back to him. It was almost too good to be true.

“You said this was what you wanted,” she pushed back, feeling the hot flame of desire pulse through her “I asked-I asked you, Garrus.”

“I lied!” he replied, “I was insecure and jealous and I lied. I’m a terrible Turian, Shepard, you know this. I haven’t wanted anyone but you since-since-” his voice trailed off and he squeezed her waist, suddenly shy.

No, no, no, she thought to herself, you’re not getting away from me this time. She slid her hands up his torso, letting her fingers graze the soft skin of his lower back in the way that made his muscles clench. He bit back a moan and she felt her body respond in kind.

“Since when?” she asked breathlessly.

“Shepard-”

“Tell me,” she insisted, “you made me sit through three hours of drinks while watching Sarah’s hand climb steadily up your thigh, you owe me.”

“You showed up dressed like this,” he countered, his left hand dragging over the corset’s boning, “we’re even.”

“Garrus,” she warned.

He sighed, “Omega. The moment I saw you through my scope.”

“You shot me,” she reminded him, her whole body flooding with warmth.

He let out a breath of laughter, “You were taking your sweet time. I needed you to-” he sighed, leaning in and nuzzling into the crook of her neck, “I needed you.”

“That’s a long time to wait,” she said.

He let out a shaking, shuddering breath, “You have no idea.”

“Oh, yeah?” she teased, hooking her fingers under his jaw and gently forcing him to meet her eye, “try me.”

She pulled him close, pressing her lips to his and pouring every ounce of pent up loneliness and confusion and jealousy into him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, sighing when he immediately returned her affection in kind. God, how could she ever have doubted that this man wanted her? How could she not have assumed that they were in this together, the way they had been in everything else together? His hands wrapped around her back, toying with the ribbons of her corset before sliding down to grip her ass. His tongue scraped against her teeth and she could feel his groin plates shifting to make space for his cock to press against her stomach. His body was hard and unforgiving beneath her, his hands were sharp where they dug into her skin. They were incompatible, two people that evolution had never meant to meet and yet all she could think as he moved his mouth down her neck was yes, yes, yes.

He was alien, but he was completely hers and, as his reverent touch grew harsher and more frantic, she knew they would fight like hell to get back to each other, come what may. Garrus nipped at her neck, backing her up against the fishtank as his hands travelled past her ass to the back of her thighs. She whimpered as the coolness of the tank against her back clashed with the sharpness of his talons scraping against her soft skin. Her core was aching. She bucked into his hips, chasing a friction she knew he wouldn’t provide until he was good and ready, but relishing the deep groan it pulled out of him anyway as she pressed herself against his dick.

“Garrus-” she breathed.

He ignored her, engrossed in his task of lavishing the column of her throat and cleavage with attention. As his tongue dragged across the skin of her breasts, which were pushed up and on display thanks to the corset, his talons continued their exploration of her thighs, moving from just below the curve of her ass, down and around until they were toying with the skin just below the hem of her skirt. He loved teasing her this way, only applying enough pressure to make her skin dimple and keep her painfully aware of how slowly he was moving.

“I swear, Garrus, if you rip my dress-” she started.

He chuckled and she flushed at the edge of desperation in his voice, “No, this dress should be put in a museum. It’s a cultural artifact. It’’l be the prosecution’s smoking gun when they find me dead tomorrow morning. No, there will be no ripping of the dress.”

Instead he merely slipped one of his hands beneath the hem, making her whine as he trailed his talons along her inner thigh, up, up, up-

She could hear his voice catching as he teased her, alternating between gripping her skin with his fingers and using his talons to hold her attention on the growing need between her legs. Garrus had a terrible habit of making her beg but, with the way his mandibles were flaring, his breath shaky and barely contained, she knew she wouldn’t have to wait long. She tilted his face up to hers, taking a second to press her lips to the mangled scar that covered so much of his right mandible. It was a small tenderness, a self-indulgent reminder that he was real, that he was there, that, despite the odds, he had survived. She loved that damn scar. She loved it more than anything else in the world even if she would never say it, but maybe he knew. Maybe he knew and that’s why it was that kiss that made his fragile resolve crack right down the middle.

Garrus made a sound that was half curse, half groan and there was the sound of ripping. Shepard felt her nice underwear slip down her thighs, completely wrecked and a pleasurable knot of anticipation coiled in her abdomen. She opened her mouth to say something sardonic and witty but it caught in her throat and became a gasp when he plunged two of his fingers into her heat. His fingers were long and thick, two of them at once, especially with no build up, sent a shock of that delicious pain that bordered on pleasure through her. She was tight, too tight. She could vaguely hear him whispering praises in her ear about that, telling her how badly he wanted to feel her clench around his cock, but it was all senseless noise dissolving into the feeling of fullness, the completeness of his fingers inside her, just gently brushing that spot that made her feel like she was dying. It was astonishing how wet she was, how immediately ready her body was to stretch to accommodate him, how much of a relief it was to have him fill her again, but he wouldn’t move. She needed him to fuck her with those fingers, but he held them still, forcing her to feel every inch of her body stretching to make room for him.

“F-oh god, fuck, Garrus-” she breathed, instinctively gripping his wrist as she stretched around his fingers.

He growled and kissed her hard, pressing his third finger to her clit, rubbing tight, soft little circles around it in that way that made her thighs tremble. His tongue in her mouth, the ice cold glass against her inflamed skin, his fingers inside her, her clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through every nerve in her body as his thumb traced it relentlessly, it was too much. It was always too much, but he didn’t stop because he knew how badly she wanted this, how much she craved the clashing sensations, how she needed him to take her apart completely before she could put herself back together again. He moved his mouth to her ear, sucking a dark bruise onto the skin at the corner of her jaw, timed perfectly to coincide with him thrusting his fingers into her. Her hips bucked, chasing the friction and she looked down.

“Oh, fuck,” she groaned.

There was something so goddamn hot about seeing Garrus’ hand beneath her skirt with the soft fabric bunched up over his forearm. She could just barely make out his fingers moving inside of her, so private and mysterious while her whole body melted into his touch. It was obscene. It was fucking holy. It was-

Garrus picked up his pace and her brain short circuited. Her head fell back against the fishtank, eyes fluttering shut as she sighed and moaned, her cunt clenching around his fingers as he wound her tighter and tighter, until she felt like she was about to snap. He was whispering praises into her ear that her translator couldn’t understand, but all that she registered was the sound of his voice. That voice, wrecked with wanting, strained like he was struggling to keep himself together as he brought her closer and closer to her peak. That voice that had always kept her sane, that had been driving her mad all evening, washing over her like a river. It was so perfectly Garrus, so she kissed him. She kissed him because she couldn’t think, couldn’t talk, couldn’t breathe while he fucked her open with his fingers. She kissed him because she needed more, and because her lipstick just looked so damn good on his skin and he moaned her name, his cock hard and throbbing where it pressed against her hip. She bucked into him again, grinding against his fingers as the coil inside her tightened and tightened and tightened until he crooked his fingers up and pressed them against that place inside her that made everything go white. It was good, and then it was really good and then it was better and then-oh god, fuck, fuck, yes, oh god, just like that, fuck-

She arched her back and cried out something broken and desperate as she came hard against his fingers, trembling and clenching around him as the aftershocks tore through her. He fucked her through it, his fingers moving more and more slowly as she came down from the high, his voice a constant soothing presence in her ear. When he kissed her next it was gentle, relieved even.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing kisses to the side of her neck.

“And I’m yours,” she breathed, “just yours.”

She felt him react to that, his hips involuntarily bucking into her as he groaned. She smiled wickedly, pushing him back towards the bed. It was going to be a long, long night.

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muiitoloko · 5 months ago

Note

Hiii, may I req for either a colin firth/reader or harry hart/reader fic wherein theyre exes turned lovers? Thank u !!

Title: In the Line of Love

Summary: When duty demands they act as a romantic couple, Harry and his ex-girlfriend can no longer avoid the tension that simmers between them. Old wounds resurface, but so does the undeniable chemistry they once shared.

Pairing: Harry Hart × Fem! Reader

Warnings: implied sex, foul language

Author's Notes: Honestly, I had no idea what to write, so I just ended up putting together something short and quick. Sorry about that! My brain has been on a bit of a vacation lately 😅