#starting off with these really small shots again

[scarletwinterxx]

breaking the ice - chwe vernon scenario

scrolled through tiktok too much now i'm simping over vernon🫠

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The cold air inside the ice rink nipped at your skin as you pulled your coat tighter around yourself. You weren’t much of a sports fan, but when your cousin, Chan, practically begged you to come watch his game, you couldn’t say no.

"It's gonna be fun! Just come once, and if you hate it, I won't ask again," he had insisted over the phone.

And that's how you found yourself in the bleachers, watching a group of guys in bulky gear chase a puck across the ice. You weren’t clueless—you knew the basic rules—but you weren’t about to start screaming at referees like some of the other fans. You were here for one reason: Chan.

The game was intense, fast-paced, and honestly more interesting than you expected. You followed your cousin’s movements as he skated past an opponent and passed the puck to a teammate. The crowd roared when the puck was slapped straight into the goal.

You clapped, smiling as Chan pumped his fist in the air. That’s my cousin, you thought proudly.

Then, your eyes drifted to the player who had taken the shot. Number 16. He skated back toward Chan, giving him a nod of acknowledgment before the two joined the rest of the team.

You squinted.

The name on the back of his jersey read "Chwe"

You weren’t sure why, but something about him stood out. He wasn’t showy like some of the other players who thrived on the crowd’s attention. He barely reacted after scoring, just gave a small nod before skating off.

"Who’s number 16?" you asked the girl sitting beside you, who had been squealing nonstop.

She gawked at you. "You don’t know Chwe Vernon?!"

You blinked. "Should I?"

She looked at you like you had just committed a crime. "He's literally one of the best players on the team! And super famous! His family's Korean-American, and he's been playing since he was a kid. How do you not know him?"

You shrugged. "I don’t really follow hockey."

The girl sighed dramatically. "You’re missing out. He’s, like, effortlessly cool and insanely good."

You turned back to the rink, watching as Vernon—Chwe Vernon, apparently—glided across the ice. Effortlessly cool, huh? You weren’t convinced.

After the game, you waited for Chan outside the locker rooms. The hallway was filled with people—some reporters, some fans, all hoping to catch a glimpse of the players.

When the team finally emerged, Chan spotted you instantly. "Hey!" He grinned, walking over. His hair was damp from the shower, and he still had a towel draped around his neck. "So? Did I impress you?"

"You did great," you said, ruffling his hair, making him groan. "Proud cousin moment."

"Good. I need you to come to more games for good luck."

"Don't push it," you teased.

Before he could respond, someone else walked past you—number 16. Vernon.

Chan called out to him. "Hyung!"

Vernon turned his head slightly, slowing his pace. Up close, you noticed how sharp his features were. He had this laid-back, unreadable expression, like nothing ever surprised him.

Chan gestured toward you. "This is my cousin, the one I told you about."

You arched a brow. "You talked about me?"

Chan ignored you. "This is Vernon."

Vernon gave you a short nod. "Hey."

That was it. Just one word. No handshake, no smile.

You crossed your arms. "Wow, you’re a real talker, huh?"

Chan coughed, trying to stifle a laugh.

Vernon just blinked. "Not really."

You stared at him, waiting for him to say more. He didn't. This guy was something else.

"Well, okay" you said your name, breaking the silence. "Since we’re introducing ourselves and all."

He nodded again. "Cool."

You squinted at him. "Do you always talk in one-word sentences?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if considering your question. "Depends."

You exhaled sharply, turning to Chan. "I’m leaving. This guy’s impossible."

Chan laughed. "That’s just how he is."

You gave Vernon one last glance. He wasn’t unfriendly, just... different. Quiet. Detached.

And yet, something about him made you curious.

A few days later, Chan texted you.

Chan: Come to our next game. You: Why? Chan: Because I bet Vernon you wouldn’t come. You: …You bet on me? Chan: Yeah. He said you wouldn’t bother. I said you would. You: What do I get if I show up? Chan: The satisfaction of proving Vernon wrong. You: Tempting. Chan: Also, if I win, Vernon has to buy me dinner. So do it for me.

You sighed, staring at the text. You weren’t the type to back down from a challenge. Contemplating for only a few moments before shooting Chan one last message saying you'd go.

And maybe, just maybe, you’d get a reaction out of Vernon this time.

The next game rolled around quicker than expected. You hadn’t initially planned to attend, but the thought of proving Vernon wrong was too tempting.

So there you were, sitting in the bleachers again, this time with a smirk on your face as you spotted number 16 skating onto the ice.

Chan was the first to notice you. From where he stood, he shot you a triumphant grin, raising his fist in victory. You lifted your hand in a mock salute, acknowledging the win.

Vernon, on the other hand, took a bit longer to spot you. When he did, you could swear there was a brief flicker of surprise in his usually impassive expression. His eyes met yours for a split second before he coolly looked away. No reaction, no acknowledgment—just Vernon being Vernon.

Oh, so that’s how he wanted to play it? Fine.

The game started, and as expected, it was intense. You found yourself getting more invested than last time, especially when Chan assisted in another goal. But what caught your attention the most was Vernon. He was ridiculously fast on the ice, his movements so fluid and effortless that it was almost unfair to the opposing team.

By the time the final buzzer rang, their team had won. The crowd erupted into cheers, and even you found yourself clapping.

Chan was practically bouncing when he ran over to you after the game. “Ha! Told you! I knew you’d come.”

You smirked. “Enjoy your free dinner.”

Before Chan could respond, Vernon walked up behind him. His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead, and he looked as composed as ever despite just finishing a game.

“You actually showed up,” he said, voice neutral.

“I did.” You crossed your arms. “Surprised?”

He shrugged. “A little.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Not gonna admit you were wrong?”

He blinked, considering. “Nope.”

Chan burst out laughing. “He’d rather die than say that.”

You turned back to Vernon. “Well, I did come. So now you owe Chan dinner. Hope you have deep pockets.”

Vernon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I do.”

You weren’t sure why, but the idea of Vernon being slightly inconvenienced by this bet made you a little too satisfied.

Chan clapped a hand on Vernon’s shoulder. “Since I’m getting a free meal, you should come too.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Me?”

Chan nodded. “Yeah, you’re the reason I won the bet. Might as well let you enjoy the victory too.”

You glanced at Vernon, half-expecting him to protest, but he just nodded. “Up to you.”

You weren’t sure if he genuinely didn’t care or if he was just going along with it because Chan said so. Either way, you weren’t about to back down.

“Fine,” you said. “Let’s go.”

You ended up at a small Korean barbecue place not too far from the rink. It wasn’t fancy, but it smelled amazing. Vernon, true to his word, paid without complaint, though you noticed he didn’t exactly look thrilled about it. You didn’t feel bad in the slightest.

As the food started cooking, Chan filled the silence with his usual chatter. You had always liked how easygoing he was, able to carry conversations without effort.

“So,” Chan said, turning to Vernon. “What do you think of my cousin?”

You nearly choked on your drink. “What kind of question is that?”

Chan grinned mischievously. “I just wanna know. Vernon’s not really a people person, so I’m curious.”

You turned your gaze to Vernon, expecting some deadpan answer like “She’s fine” or “She exists.”

Instead, he looked directly at you and said, “She’s different.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Different how?”

He tilted his head slightly, considering his words. “Most people try too hard. You don’t.”

You blinked. That was… surprisingly insightful.

Chan nodded approvingly. “That’s a compliment, by the way. Vernon doesn’t say much, but when he does, he means it.”

You studied Vernon for a moment. He was still as unreadable as ever, but now you were intrigued. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

Dinner continued with casual conversation, mostly dominated by Chan. Vernon remained quiet but occasionally chimed in with a dry comment that made you laugh more than expected.

By the end of the night, you realized something strange.

You didn’t dislike him.

In fact, you kind of wanted to see what it would take to get a real reaction out of him.

A week later, you got an unexpected text from Chan.

Chan: You’re not gonna believe this. You: What? Chan: Vernon just asked if you were coming to the next game. You: …You’re lying. Chan: I’m dead serious. He just asked me out of nowhere.

You stared at your phone, processing.

Vernon? Asking about you?

Interesting.

You: Tell him to ask me himself. Chan: LMAO you’re evil.

A few minutes later, another text came in.

Unknown Number: Are you coming? - Vernon

You smirked. So he finally cracked.

This was going to be fun.

Sitting at your desk, you stretched your arms, feeling the exhaustion settle into your bones. The clock on your laptop read 11:47 PM, and you still weren’t done with the reports your supervisor had asked for last minute.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You hadn’t expected your internship to be this demanding, but then again, you had never been the type to slack off. If you were going to do something, you were going to do it well.

Your phone buzzed beside you.

Vernon: Heard you were busy.

You blinked. Of all people, he was texting you? You smirked, quickly typing back.

You: Look at you, sending full sentences. I’m impressed.

A few seconds passed before the typing bubble appeared.

Vernon: I can type. You: Could’ve fooled me.

You leaned back in your chair, biting your lip. Was it bad that you found this amusing?

You weren’t expecting another text, but then—

Vernon: …You gonna come next time?

Your eyebrows raised slightly. So he did notice you weren’t there.

You debated your response, then decided to push his buttons a little.

You: Why? Did you miss me?

This time, the reply didn’t come immediately. You wondered if you had caught him off guard.

Finally, after a minute—

Vernon: Maybe.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

You: …Huh. Didn’t expect that. Vernon: Yeah. Me neither.

That made you pause.

You had been joking before, but now… was he actually admitting something?

You stared at your screen for a moment before shaking your head. No way. This is Vernon. He doesn’t just say things like that.

You decided to test the waters.

You: Careful, Chwe. Almost sounded like you like having me around.

This time, his reply came quicker.

Vernon: Don’t get ahead of yourself. You: Good night, hockey boy. Vernon: Night.

Setting your phone down, you exhaled. That was unexpected.

And oddly… kind of nice.

A few days passed, and you found yourself back to your usual routine—internship, assignments, barely enough time to breathe.

You hadn’t planned on going to the next hockey game either, but then Chan called. "Please," he whined over the phone. "Vernon’s been weird since you didn’t come last time."

You frowned. "Weird how?"

"I don’t know! Just… quiet."

You snorted. "Vernon’s always quiet."

"Yeah, but this time it’s different. Like he’s thinking about something."

That made you pause.

"Are you telling me you think Vernon missed me?" you teased.

Chan groaned. "I’m saying something’s up with him, and I think you should come see for yourself."

You hesitated. You really didn’t have the time, but… now you were curious.

"Fine," you said, "but if I show up and he acts the same, you owe me coffee."

Chan laughed. "Deal."

When you stepped into the ice rink the following evening, the familiar chill made you shiver. You spotted the team warming up, Chan already waving at you from the ice.

Your eyes flickered to Vernon.

He was stretching near the goal, looking as calm and composed as ever. But when he turned his head and spotted you in the stands, something shifted in his expression. It wasn’t dramatic—just a small pause, a barely-there flicker of acknowledgment.

Then, as if nothing happened, he looked away.

You smirked.

Yeah. He definitely noticed.

As the game started, you found yourself watching him more closely. He was fast, efficient, never wasted movement. But every now and then, when there was a break in play, you swore he glanced in your direction.

By the time the game ended, you were already preparing a sarcastic remark for when you saw him.

Chan met you outside the locker room first. "Told you he was acting weird."

You shrugged. "He looks the same to me."

"Trust me," Chan said, "for Vernon, that was basically a full-blown confession."

Before you could respond, Vernon appeared in the hallway. His damp hair fell over his forehead, his usual quiet presence making him seem effortlessly cool.

"You’re here," he said, stopping in front of you.

You crossed your arms. "You sound surprised."

He met your gaze. "A little."

You tilted your head. "Miss me?"

Vernon exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "You always ask that."

"And you never give me an answer."

He paused, then—

"Maybe."

You blinked. Well that was new. Before you could say anything, he walked past you, heading toward the exit. But as he did, he spoke just loud enough for you to hear

"See you next game."

You stared after him, lips slowly curling into a smile.

Another game day.

The rink buzzed with energy as another game night rolled in. The usual excitement from the crowd filled the air, fans from both teams eager to see their favorites go head-to-head.

Vernon adjusted his helmet as he skated onto the ice, his mind focused—until Chan nudged him.

“Look,” Chan said, nodding toward the stands.

Vernon followed his gaze, and there you were.

His brow furrowed slightly. He wasn’t expecting you. Usually, you’d give Chan a heads-up if you were coming.

“Guess she had time after all,” Chan muttered, but there was something in his tone—something suspicious.

Before Vernon could ask, his eyes flickered to the opposing team warming up. That’s when he saw it. You weren’t just watching the game. You were standing near the barrier, laughing. With him.

Lee Seokmin.

Forward for the rival team. Loud, energetic, and way too familiar with you.

Vernon’s grip on his stick tightened slightly as he watched Seokmin grin at you, leaning against the boards like this was some casual meet-up and not a competitive match.

Chan turned to Vernon, eyes wide. “Did I miss something, or do they know each other?”

“I don’t know,” Vernon said flatly, but now he really wanted to.

After warm-ups, the team headed back to the locker room. Vernon kept quiet, but Chan wasn’t letting this go.

“Okay, seriously,” he said, shoving his helmet into his bag. “What is going on? Why is my cousin talking to Seokmin?”

Joshua, another teammate, overheard and raised an eyebrow. “Wait, your cousin? She knows Seokmin?”

“I don’t know!” Chan said, exasperated. “She didn’t tell me anything.”

Vernon untied his skates, processing. He wasn’t sure why this bugged him, but it did. You weren’t the type to be friendly just for the sake of it—so if you were joking around with Seokmin, there had to be history there.

And for some reason, that annoyed him.

After the game, which ended in a close win for Vernon’s team, you were waiting outside the locker room.

Chan wasted no time. “Alright,” he said, crossing his arms. “Explain.”

You blinked. “Explain what?”

He gestured toward the rink. “Why were you laughing it up with Seokmin before the game?”

You gave him a look. “Because we’re friends?”

Chan’s eyes narrowed. “Since when?”

You sighed, already predicting this reaction. “We used to date. A long time ago. Now we’re just friends.”

Chan’s jaw dropped. Vernon, standing next to him, simply blinked.

“…You dated him?” Chan asked, as if the words didn’t make sense together.

“For, like, five months. It wasn’t that serious.”

Vernon finally spoke. “Why’d you break up?”

You turned to him, surprised he even asked. “We were better off as friends.”

Vernon’s expression didn’t change, but he held your gaze for a beat longer than usual.

Chan, still recovering, groaned. “I feel betrayed.”

You laughed. “Relax, it’s not that deep.”

Seokmin’s voice interrupted. “Are we talking about me?”

You turned to see Seokmin approaching, still in his team jacket, his ever-present grin in place.

Chan groaned louder. “Oh my god.”

Seokmin laughed, nudging you. “Did you tell them how you used to cheer for my team?”

You smirked. “I left that part out.”

Chan looked like he was about to collapse. “This is so much worse than I thought.”

Vernon, still quiet, glanced between you and Seokmin before saying, “So you’re just friends now?”

You nodded. “Yeah”

He doesn't say anything after that but you could tell there was definitely a reason. And you weren’t going to let it go unnoticed. Meanwhile, Chan was still staring at you like you had just confessed to some deep, dark secret.

“Wait, wait, wait.” He held up a hand. “You mean to tell me that all this time, you and Seokmin—”

“Dated?” Seokmin finished helpfully, grinning. “Yeah, man. Keep up.”

Chan dramatically pressed a hand to his forehead. “How did I not know this? How did no one tell me?”

You shrugged. “We broke up before you even joined the team, and it wasn’t that serious. Plus, you were busy with your own stuff.”

Chan looked genuinely offended. “I feel like I should have felt it or something. Like a disturbance in the Force.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, Jedi.”

Meanwhile, Vernon was watching the entire conversation with his usual unreadable expression, but something about his posture was different. He was listening.

Seokmin clapped a hand on Chan’s shoulder. “It’s okay, buddy. You’re just slow.”

Chan smacked his hand away. “I’m not slow, I just—ugh! This is so weird!”

You smirked. “Why? Because you hate the idea of me dating anyone or because it’s Seokmin?”

“…Both.” Chan groaned. “This is, like, finding out your best friend and your worst enemy were secretly besties behind your back.”

Seokmin gasped. “Worst enemy? I thought we were friends!”

“You’re my rival, not my friend,” Chan shot back.

Seokmin patted his shoulder. “Rival is just another word for friend who won’t admit it.”

You stifled a laugh as Chan let out another dramatic groan. But while Chan was too busy overreacting, Vernon was still quiet.

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You good, hockey boy?”

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a second, he hesitated. Then, in his usual calm voice, he said, “Just surprised. That’s all.”

Seokmin grinned. “Vernon, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

Vernon blinked at him. “Why would I be?”

Seokmin shrugged. “I don’t know. You tell me.”

For a fraction of a second, you swore you saw a flicker of something in Vernon’s expression. Annoyance? Amusement? Something in between?

But, as always, he kept it cool. “Not jealous.”

“Sure,” Seokmin said, clearly not convinced.

You smirked, deciding to push Vernon a little. “I was a great girlfriend.”

Vernon’s eyes flicked to yours again, this time holding your gaze.

“Yeah?” he asked, voice unreadable.

You tilted your head. “Yeah.”

A slow, almost imperceptible smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “I’ll take your word for it.”

Seokmin looked between the two of you and let out a low whistle. “Huh. Interesting.”

Chan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say it.”

Seokmin grinned. “I think your cousin has a new favorite hockey player.”

Chan groaned for the fourth time. “I hate everything about tonight.”

You just laughed. But the thing was—Seokmin might not have been entirely wrong.

The night air was crisp as you stepped into the parking lot with Chan and Vernon. The game had ended, and while the rivalry on the ice had been intense, the real battle had been you versus Chan’s endless questions about Seokmin.

Vernon had offered to drive both of you home, claiming it was “on the way,” but you were starting to suspect he just wanted to witness the soap opera unfolding in real time.

Chan, still in full interrogation mode, walked beside you. “Okay, but seriously—how did it even start?”

You sighed, exasperated. “I already told you, Chan. We dated, we broke up, we’re friends now. That’s it.”

Chan scoffed. “That’s not it! I need details. Like, who made the first move?”

Seokmin’s grinning face flashed in your mind. “He did.”

Chan gasped dramatically. “Seokmin made the first move?! What did he do, trip over his own skates and land in your lap?”

You laughed. “No, idiot. He was actually really sweet.”

Vernon unlocked the car and got in without a word, letting Chan get it all out of his system before the drive even started.

As soon as you all settled inside, Chan still wasn’t done.

“So let me get this straight,” he continued from the passenger seat, twisting around to face you. “You, my very strong, very independent cousin, voluntarily dated a hockey player?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, Chan. I, a normal human being, dated another normal human being. Groundbreaking.”

Chan shook his head, like this was the biggest scandal of the century. “You always said you’d never date an athlete.”

“Right,” you deadpanned. “Which is why I’m never dating a hockey player again.”

Vernon, silent up until now, suddenly coughed beside Chan. Both you and Chan turned to him.

Vernon kept his eyes on the road, shifting gears like nothing happened.

Chan squinted. “You good?”

Vernon nodded, completely unfazed. “Yeah. Just dry air.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused. “Uh-huh.”

Chan threw his hands up. “Okay, now I really need to know what went down.”

You sighed dramatically. “Do you really want to hear about my tragic love story, or do you want Vernon to get us home in one piece?”

Chan hesitated before reluctantly turning back around. “Fine. But this conversation isn’t over.”

From the driver’s seat, Vernon finally spoke again—his voice smooth, unreadable.

“Yeah,” he murmured, eyes still on the road. “I bet it isn’t.”

Something about the way he said it made you glance at him again. Maybe it was just your imagination. Or maybe, just maybe, Vernon was thinking about how you might not keep that promise after all.

The hum of the engine filled the car as Vernon smoothly maneuvered through the late-night traffic. The city lights blurred past, casting fleeting shadows across his face. You sat in the backseat, arms crossed, while Chan sat in the passenger seat, still digesting your revelation about Seokmin.

"Okay," Chan started again, shifting to look at you, "so you’re telling me you went from hating the idea of dating an athlete to actually dating one?"

You groaned. "Chan—"

"No, no," he interrupted, waving his hands. "I just need to understand the timeline. When did this betrayal happen?"

Vernon let out a short breath, which you swore sounded like a laugh, though his face remained unreadable.

"You make it sound like I committed a crime," you said, rolling your eyes. "It was, like, a year and a half ago."

Chan gasped. "A year and a half ago?! That recently? And I’m just finding out now?"

"Look, it wasn’t a big deal," you said. "We went on a few dates, had fun, realized we were better as friends, and that was that."

Vernon, still focused on the road, finally spoke. "You broke up with him?"

You glanced at him through the rearview mirror. His voice was as calm as ever, but something about the way he asked made you curious.

"Technically, yeah," you admitted.

Chan groaned again. "Of course you broke up with him. You probably made him think it was his idea, too." Seokmin had been a little blindsided, but you weren’t about to admit that.

"You say that like it’s a bad thing," you said, smirking.

Chan turned back to Vernon. "See? This is why I tell people not to mess with my cousin. She’s too powerful."

Vernon finally looked at you through the mirror, his gaze unreadable. "Yeah," he murmured, "I can see that."

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip.

Chan, oblivious, continued his rant. "But seriously, what did he do that made you swear off hockey players forever? Did he forget your anniversary? Get too competitive?"

You shrugged. "Nah. I just don’t want to deal with the whole team rivalries, constant traveling, always being second to the sport thing. Hockey players are a lot of work."

Vernon coughed again.

Chan turned to him, frowning. "Dude, do you need water?"

Vernon cleared his throat. "I’m fine."

You smirked. "Are you sure? You seem… distracted."

Vernon glanced at you briefly before returning his focus to the road. "Just listening."

"Hmm." You leaned back. "Well, anyway, I learned my lesson. I’m sticking to normal people now."

Chan snorted. "Normal people?"

"Yeah. You know—guys with normal schedules, normal jobs, no risk of getting concussed every other week."

Vernon’s hands flexed on the steering wheel.

Chan laughed. "I give it two months before you go back on that."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And why is that?"

"Because," Chan said, smirking, "you like the chaos too much. Admit it, you love being involved in hockey drama. You thrive on it."

You gasped, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me! I am very peaceful."

Vernon finally spoke again, his tone deadpan. "Sure."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Are you siding with Chan?"

"I mean," Vernon said, shrugging, "you are sitting in a hockey player’s car, after attending a hockey game, while arguing about hockey."

Chan burst out laughing. "Oh my god, he’s got a point."

You huffed. "Okay, fine. Maybe I tolerate the chaos. But that doesn’t mean I’ll date another hockey player."

Vernon didn’t say anything but when you glanced at him through the mirror again, he had the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips.

Like he knew something you didn’t.

The rest of the ride was quieter. Chan was scrolling through his phone, occasionally making dramatic sighs about his “betrayal,” while Vernon drove smoothly through the streets.

At one point, you rested your chin on your hand, watching the buildings blur past. Despite the chaos of the evening, there was something… nice about being in Vernon’s car. He was steady, dependable. Even with Chan’s endless commentary, he never seemed irritated. Just patient.

When Vernon finally pulled up to Chan’s place, your cousin unbuckled his seatbelt and sighed dramatically. "Alright, I guess I’ll forgive you. For now."

You smirked. "Gee, thanks."

Chan opened the door but paused, glancing between you and Vernon. Then, with a knowing smirk, he said, "You two have fun."

Before you could question him, he hopped out and disappeared inside.

You scoffed. "What was that about?"

Vernon hummed. "Not sure."

But he definitely looked like he knew. with Chan gone, the car suddenly felt… quieter.

Vernon shifted slightly, one hand resting on the gear shift. "Where to?"

You blinked. "Huh?"

"Your place," he said simply. "Where is it?"

"Oh." You gave him the directions, and he nodded, smoothly pulling back onto the road. For a few minutes, neither of you spoke. It wasn’t awkward, though. Just… different.

"So," Vernon finally said, glancing at you through the mirror, "never dating a hockey player again?"

You smirked. "That’s the plan."

"Hmm." He didn’t sound convinced.

You tilted your head. "Why? You don’t think I can do it?"

Vernon let out a small breath—almost a chuckle. "I just think… you might change your mind."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

He slowed to a stop at a red light, then turned his head slightly, meeting your eyes.

"Just a feeling," he said simply.

You held his gaze, searching for something—anything—in his expression. But, as always, Vernon was unreadable. Calm. Completely in control.

Yet, for some reason, your heart did a weird little flip.

You scoffed, looking away. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I’m done with hockey boys."

Vernon tapped his fingers against the wheel. "Mm."

The light turned green, and he pulled forward. And though he didn’t say anything else, the ghost of a smirk lingered on his lips.

When he finally pulled up in front of your building, he put the car in park but didn’t move to unlock the doors yet. Instead, he rested his wrist on the steering wheel and turned his head slightly toward you.

"You sure about that?"

You blinked. "Huh?"

He kept his gaze on you, calm and unreadable. "About being done with hockey players."

You scoffed. "Yeah, I’m sure."

Vernon hummed, like he wasn’t convinced.

Your eyes narrowed. "Why? You think I’m lying?"

He shrugged, like it didn’t matter. "I think people say things they don’t mean all the time."

You frowned. "Well, I do mean it."

Vernon tilted his head, studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he was trying to solve. Then, after a moment, he said, "Wanna bet?"

Your brows shot up. "Excuse me?"

He leaned back, resting his arm on the car door. "Bet me that you won’t date another hockey player."

You let out an incredulous laugh. "What are we, twelve?"

Vernon just raised an eyebrow, waiting.

You rolled your eyes. "Fine. What’s at stake?"

His lips curled slightly—barely noticeable, but there. "Winner gets whatever they want."

You raised a skeptical brow. "Like… money?"

Vernon shook his head. "Nope."

"Then what?"

He exhaled through his nose, thinking for a second before saying, "Bragging rights."

"That’s it?"

"That’s it," Vernon confirmed.

You squinted at him. "You’re really so confident that I’ll cave and date another hockey player?"

Vernon didn’t even hesitate. "Yeah."

Something about his unwavering confidence made you cross your arms. "Okay, fine. It’s a bet. I will never date another hockey player again."

Vernon nodded. "Cool." Then, finally, he reached over and unlocked the doors.

You narrowed your eyes. "Wait. What happens if I win?"

His lips twitched slightly, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Then you get to rub it in my face."

You smirked. "Oh, I will."

Vernon just shrugged, like he wasn’t worried in the slightest.

That irritated you even more.

"Goodnight, hockey boy," you said, reaching for the door handle.

Vernon’s response was so quiet you almost didn’t catch it. "Goodnight," he murmured. Then, as you stepped out, he added, "See you around."

Something about the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine.

Like he already knew how this was going to end.

Like he was just waiting.

The bet was stupid.

You knew it was stupid the second you agreed to it, and yet… it bothered you. Not because you thought you’d lose—because you wouldn’t. There was no way you’d fall for another hockey player.

No, what bothered you was Vernon’s confidence. The way he’d looked at you, calm and collected, like he already knew how this would play out. Like he wasn’t guessing, but rather waiting.

And that? That was infuriating.

So you did the only logical thing.

You ignored it.

For an entire week, you threw yourself into work, into your internship, into anything that would keep you too busy to think about Vernon or his stupid, smug little bet.

And it worked. Kind of.

When you arrived at the rink, you told yourself you were not looking for him.

You weren’t scanning the ice, weren’t checking the players warming up, weren’t—

Oh.

There he was.

Vernon stood near the bench, adjusting his gloves, looking annoyingly good in his gear. He wasn’t flashy like some of the other guys, but he had this effortless kind of presence—calm, confident, and completely unbothered.

Which only made you more bothered.

You turned back to Chan. "I hate you for bringing me here."

Chan grinned. "Love you too, cousin."

A whistle blew, signaling the players to line up, and as Vernon skated past, he glanced toward the stands. His eyes found yours immediately.

And then—he smirked. Like he knew you’d be here.

Your stomach flipped, and you immediately turned to Chan. "I take it back. I really hate you."

Chan just laughed. "No, you don’t."

The game started, and you did your best to focus. But it was hard when you were hyper-aware of one player in particular and every time you told yourself you were imagining things, that Vernon wasn’t paying any special attention to you.

He’d prove you wrong.

A glance before a faceoff. A lingering look after a goal. A subtle smirk every time he skated near your side of the rink.

And the worst part?

You knew he was doing it on purpose.

By the time the game ended, you were fully prepared to never attend another one again.

You tried to ignore Vernon.

You really did.

But ignoring Vernon was impossible when he wasn’t ignoring you.

Every game you attended, he’d look for you. Every time he saw you, there was a smirk, a glance, a knowing look that said I’m still winning.

And the worst part?

You caught yourself looking for him too.

It was small things at first—wondering if he’d be at the team hangouts, noticing when he was not at practice, catching yourself staring a second too long during games.

You were slipping.

And you hated it.

You were officially avoiding Vernon.

It wasn’t obvious avoidance. You weren’t hiding behind corners or diving into bushes when you saw him. No, you were subtle.

You stopped showing up to games as often. You made excuses whenever Chan invited you to team hangouts. You even started leaving early when you knew Vernon might be around.

And for a while, it worked.

Until it didn’t.

Because Vernon wasn’t stupid.

And unfortunately for you, he was patient.

He wasn’t mad you were avoiding him. He wasn’t giving up.

He was just waiting. Waiting for you to stop fighting yourself. Waiting for you to let yourself have something good. And somehow that was worse because you could handle anger.

But patience?

Patience made you want to give in.

It happened at a café. You were minding your own business, fully immersed in your laptop, when suddenly a chair scraped against the floor in front of you.

You looked up and there he was.

Vernon.

Sitting across from you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You blinked. "What—"

"You’re avoiding me," he said.

You scoffed. "No, I’m not."

"You are."

"I’m busy."

Vernon nodded. "Sure."

You clenched your jaw. "I am."

Vernon took a sip of his coffee, completely unbothered. "You were at every game before. Then, suddenly, you’re not. Feels personal."

"It’s not," you lied.

"Right."

You exhaled sharply, tapping your fingers against the table. "Is this why you sat here? To call me out?"

"Partly," Vernon admitted.

"And the other part?"

He tilted his head. "I missed you."

Your brain short-circuited. "Excuse me?"

Vernon shrugged. "It was more fun when you were around."

You stared at him. "Are you messing with me?"

"Nope."

"Vernon."

"Hm?"

"You’re being weird."

He smirked. "Or maybe you just don’t know how to deal with me being serious."

Your stomach flipped. Okay. This was dangerous territory. He was right and your brain can't process the situation, you're so used to his one word remarks and nonchalance. But this feels like something your heart isn't prepared for.

You forced a laugh. "Nice try, but I’m not falling for it."

Vernon leaned back, watching you closely. "You sure?"

You clenched your jaw. "Yes."

"Okay," he said easily.

After a while he did leave you alone, even though he wanted to stay and banter with you some more because these days it seems that his main source of entertainment is to get under your skin. Coach called for a meeting. After a quick goodbye you find yourself alone again.

Later that day though, Chan came to your apartment. The moment you saw Chan, you regretted telling him anything.

Because instead of sympathy, he just grinned.

"You’re doomed."

You glared at him. "I am not."

"Vernon likes you."

You crossed your arms. "He does not."

"Okay, and you like him."

"Chan."

"You’re in denial."

You groaned. "Can you be normal for once?"

Chan ignored you. "You realize Vernon is going to win, right?"

"He isn’t."

"Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that."

You threw a pillow at him.

It happened at the worst possible time. You were at another game (against your better judgment), sitting next to Chan, when the unthinkable happened... Vernon scored.

And you.... you cheered. Loudly. Enthusiastically.

And worst of all?

Vernon heard.

He turned immediately, locking eyes with you from across the rink.

Vernon, still looking at you, winked.

You were still recovering from what happened during the game. The team had won, meaning the energy in the rink was electric. Fans cheered, players celebrated, and you?

You were debating leaving immediately before Vernon found you. But before you could execute your escape Chan grabbed your arm. "Oh no. You’re not running away."

You scowled. "I’m not running. I just have things to do."

"Like avoiding Vernon?"

"Exactly."

Chan shook his head, dragging you toward the locker rooms. "Nope. You’re gonna face your feelings like an adult."

"I am an adult. And my adult decision is denial."

"That’s not how it works."

"It’s worked for me so far."

Chan ignored you, you hear the pushing open of the locker room door before Chan screams "Hey, Vernon! Your biggest fan is here."

You smacked Chan’s arm. "I hate you."

"Hey."

Vernon.

Standing right there, fresh out of the shower, towel around his neck, still slightly damp from the game and he's looking directly at you.

Chan grinned. "I’ll leave you two alone."

You turned sharply. "You traitor—"

But he was already gone. You were going to kill him. You thought but first you had to deal with Vernon.

"Good game."

Vernon smirked. "I could tell. You were very excited when I scored."

You rolled your eyes. "It was an automatic reaction."

"Right."

"It’s called sportsmanship."

"Uh-huh."

You exhaled sharply. "You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?"

"A little," he admitted.

You crossed your arms. "If you’re expecting me to confess I like you, it’s not happening."

Vernon hummed. "You just did, though."

Your jaw dropped. "I did not."

"You said, ‘if you’re expecting me to confess I like you,’ which implies there’s something to confess."

You blinked. "I hate you."

Vernon grinned. "No, you don’t."

You clenched your fists. "This is a nightmare."

Vernon tilted his head. "So… when are you taking me on a date?"

You nearly choked. "Excuse me?"

"You lost the bet, right?"

"I did not lose the bet!"

You were completely and utterly screwed.

You should have known he wouldn’t let you get away with avoiding him because, a few days later, he showed up outside the building where you were doing your internship. You nearly dropped your bag when you spotted him standing near the entrance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" you hissed, marching up to him.

Vernon looked amused. "Visiting."

"Visiting who?"

"You."

You stared at him. "Why?"

Vernon shoved his hands in his pockets, looking far too casual. "Because you’re avoiding me."

"I am not avoiding you."

"You are."

You groaned. "Why do you do this?"

Vernon tilted his head. "Because it’s fun."

"For who?"

He smirked. "Me." You were going to lose your mind. You were seriously debating throwing your very heavy tote bag at him and his smug face.

Vernon glanced past you into the building. "So, this is where you spend all your time now?"

"Yes," you said firmly. "Because I’m busy."

Vernon nodded. "So busy you don’t have time for a date?"

Your brain short-circuited.

"What?"

Vernon shrugged. "A date. With me."

You blinked at him. "You’re joking."

"I’m not."

You stared. "You do remember the bet, right?"

"Yep."

"And that I refuse to date another hockey player?"

Vernon nodded. "Still waiting on that to work out for you."

You exhaled sharply. "I’m not dating you."

"Yet," Vernon added.

"Ever."

"We’ll see."

"STOP SAYING THAT" you all but scream at him, the way he's looking at you right now is making you want to pull all your hair out.

Vernon smirked, taking a step closer. "Admit it. You like me."

You scowled. "I will never admit that."

Vernon hummed. "Okay."

Too calm.

Too smug.

You knew he didn’t believe you and somehow, that was infinitely worse. You had spent days trying to push down the realization that you might actually—God forbid—like Vernon. And somehow, in those same days, he got worse.

Not in an annoying way.

No.

Vernon had started being… sweet. Not the obvious kind. Not the cheesy, over-the-top, grand gestures kind. But Vernon’s kind.

Small things.

Subtle things.

Things that made you notice how well he knew you. Like how he always made sure you had a seat at the games, whether you said you were coming or not. Or how he started bringing you coffee without asking, without a word just sliding it in front of you at the rink like it was normal.

Or how, when you stayed late at your internship, your phone would buzz with a single text:

Vernon: Don’t walk home alone. I’ll pick you up.

(And when you argued, he’d just show up anyway.)

It was infuriating.

Because it was working.

And somehow, you were losing the bet in real time.

It happened after a late game.

You weren’t supposed to go. You had convinced yourself you wouldn’t go and yet you find yourself sitting at the bleachers again waiting for the game to finish.

You blamed Chan. (And also yourself.)

You stayed after, waiting for Chan, when suddenly a hoodie dropped over your head. You startled, pulling it off. "What the—"

You turned and Vernon was there. He looked at you, completely unaffected. "It’s cold."

You blinked. "I—what—"

"Just wear it."

You hesitated, staring down at it.

It was his hoodie.

Still warm. Still smelling like him.

And for some reason you put it on. You didn't put up a fight, didn't say another snarky remark. You just put it on. Vernon nodded, satisfied, then leaned against the wall next to you.

Neither of you spoke. For the first time, it wasn’t teasing, wasn’t banter.

It was just—quiet.

"You know," Vernon said suddenly, "I like you."

Your breath caught.

You turned to him. "What?"

Vernon exhaled, tilting his head to look at you. "I like you."

Just like that. No hesitation. No we’ll see. No denial.

Just the truth.

You swallowed, avoiding his eyes now. You put your hands inside the pocket of his hoodie, toying with your fingers as you look at anywhere but him.

"You’re just saying that because you want to win."

Vernon shook his head. "I already won."

You stared at him. "You did not—"

"You’re wearing my hoodie."

You opened your mouth then closed it.

Because damn it—he was right.

And the worst part? For the first time you didn’t want to fight it.

After that, it's like everything was normal again. For Vernon, not for you. You had not recovered from Vernon’s confession. Mostly because he didn’t bring it up again. No teasing. No rubbing it in.

He just—let it sit which somehow made it worse because now, you were the one thinking about it.

About him.

About how easy it would be to just… give in.

And then one night, after another late shift, you walked outside and found him waiting leaning against his car. Hands in his pockets.

Like it was normal.

You sighed. "Vernon—"

"I know," he said. "You didn’t ask me to come."

You stared at him. "Then why did you?"

Vernon shrugged. "Because I knew you’d be tired."

Your chest tightened. You swallowed. "You really like me, huh?" you say, voice barely a whisper but he heard you. He heard you loud and clear.

"Yeah."

You like Vernon.

You like Vernon not just in a haha, he’s annoying but funny way. Not just in a he’s hot but I’d never admit it way but in a real, terrifying, no-going-back way and the realization hit you so hard that you had to physically sit down.

Chan, ever the menace, noticed immediately. "Oh no. It happened, didn’t it?"

You buried your face in your hands. "I hate my life."

Chan cackled. "I knew it."

"You are not allowed to tell anyone."

"Are you kidding? I’m telling everyone."

You shot him a glare. "Chan—" "Kidding. Relax. Your secret’s safe."

You exhaled. "Good."

Chan smirked. "But, uh… you might want to tell Vernon soon."

You blinked. "Why?" Chan pointed behind you.

And when you turned Vernon was standing there and he's looking right at you.

You froze. Vernon didn’t.

He stepped closer, hands in his pockets, head tilted slightly. "So."

Meanwhile Chan slowly walks backwards to escape the scene and leaving you to your devices.

You swallowed. "So?"

"You like me." he smirks. The man had the audacity to smirk and it sends something right through you. Either you want to run away from or run away with, you're not so sure.

You let out a sharp breath. "Don’t start."

Vernon hummed. "You do, though."

You ran a hand through your hair. "Vernon—"

"It’s okay," he said. "I already knew."

Your stomach flipped. "Excuse me?" you look at him wide eyed

Vernon shrugged. "I was just waiting for you to admit it."

You stared at him. "You’re insufferable."

He grinned. "And you like me anyway."

You exhaled sharply, shaking your head. "This is the worst day of my life."

Vernon chuckled. "Is it?"

You hesitated because no it wasn’t.

It was actually… kind of nice.

Finally letting yourself feel it.

Finally stopping the fight.

Finally looking at him and knowing he had been waiting for you all along.

You sighed. "Fine." Vernon raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

You crossed your arms. "Fine. I like you. Happy now?"

Vernon just smiled.

"Yeah."

And then he walks closer to you, only a step away. Close enough you can smell his shower gel and fabric softener but far enough to give you space if you needed it.

Then he laced his fingers through yours. He did it like it was normal. Like he had been waiting to do it this whole time.

You stared down at your hand in his. Warm. Steady. Unwavering.

And suddenly you felt stupid.

Because what now? what, he got what he wanted? You admitted it. You said it. He won. Was he going to smirk, say told you so, and just… walk away?

You pulled your hand back, crossing your arms. "What now?"

Vernon blinked. "What do you mean?"

You scowled. "What now? You’re happy? You win?"

Vernon tilted his head, confused. "Win what?"

You huffed. "The bet. The whole stupid game you’ve been playing. Congratulations. You made me fall for you. Now you can go back to your cool, mysterious, hockey star life and leave me alone."

Vernon frowned. "What?"

You threw your hands up. "I mean, that’s how this goes, right? You chase me, I resist, I finally give in, and then boom—you’re over it."

You scoffed. "See? Silence. I knew it. I knew—"

"I’m not leaving."

You froze.

Vernon’s gaze was steady, unreadable, but there was something serious in his tone.

You swallowed. "What?"

"I’m not leaving, I'm not going anywhere. Where do you think I'm going?" he asks, confused

You hesitated. "Why not?"

Vernon exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "Because I like you. Like, actually like you. This wasn’t just some game for me."

"It wasn’t?" you mumble

"No."

You shifted on your feet. "Are you sure?"

Vernon laughed a quiet, breathy sound, like he couldn’t believe you were actually asking. Then he reached out—gently, carefully—and hooked his pinky around yours. And somehow, that tiny, stupid action made your chest feel like it was about to explode.

Vernon looked at you. "I’m sure."

And just like that—

You didn’t know how to fight him anymore.

After that night, Vernon didn’t change.

He didn’t start being overly sweet. He didn’t suddenly turn into a rom-com boyfriend who sent you flowers and love notes.

No.

He was just him.

Still showing up.

Still waiting outside your internship, still tossing his jacket over your shoulders, still holding your hand in that quiet, casual way that made you wonder how you had gone this long without it.

And maybe…

Just maybe…

You were finally starting to trust it. To trust him because he wasn’t going anywhere and for once you didn’t want him to. The moment you realized you weren’t fighting this anymore—weren’t fighting him—a strange kind of calm settled over you.

Vernon was still holding your hand. Still standing close. Still watching you with that infuriatingly patient expression like he had all the time in the world to wait for you to catch up.

It should have been a big moment. A grand, cinematic, fireworks-in-the-background kind of thing.

But instead—

"OH MY GOD."

You and Vernon both jumped, heads snapping up just in time to see Chan standing there, eyes wide, mouth open.

Your idiot cousin pointed an accusing finger at your intertwined hands.

"WHAT IS THAT?"

You blinked. "What is what?"

"THAT!" Chan gestured wildly. "You! Him! HANDS!"

Vernon blinked at him, unfazed. "Yeah, we have hands."

"OH MY GOD."

You groaned, trying to yank your hand away out of pure instinct only for Vernon to tighten his grip. Subtle. Calm. Like he was telling you, No. Don’t let go just because he’s here.

You hesitated. Then…

You didn’t let go.

Chan screamed.

"I need a moment," Chan announced, dramatically collapsing onto a bench like he had just received life-altering news.

You rolled your eyes. "Chan, it’s not that serious."

"NOT THAT SERIOUS?" Chan clutched his chest. "You—you and Vernon—I mean—when—HOW?"

Vernon just stuffed his free hand in his pocket, watching Chan with his usual unreadable expression. "You good?"

"No," Chan wheezed.

You sighed. "You’re being dramatic."

Chan sat up abruptly, eyes narrowing. "Oh? I’m being dramatic? Says the girl who SWORE she would NEVER date another hockey player?"

Your face burned. "I—okay, yeah, I might’ve said that, but—"

"SO WHAT IS THIS THEN?" Chan gestured wildly at you and Vernon.

You opened your mouth—then closed it because what was this?

Vernon didn’t let you think for long. "We’re dating," he said simply.

You choked. "Vernon!"

Chan’s jaw dropped. "YOU ARE?!"

Vernon turned to you, unfazed. "We’re not?"

You floundered. "I mean—I—are we?"

Vernon shrugged. "You like me. I like you. We hold hands now. Feels like dating."

Your brain short-circuited.

Because… that was it? That easy?

Chan looked between the two of you, unimpressed. "This is the weirdest way I’ve ever seen two people start dating."

You groaned. "I hate both of you."

Vernon smirked. "You like me, though."

You scowled. "Don’t push it."

Chan stood up, rubbing his temples. "I need time to process this."

You crossed your arms. "It’s not that deep."

Chan snorted. "Not that deep? Please. The entire team is gonna freak when they find out."

Your stomach dropped.

"The team?"

"Oh yeah," Chan smirked. "Good luck keeping this quiet."

Vernon didn’t seem fazed at all. But you?

You were doomed.

Chan had seen a lot of things in his life.

He had seen Vernon score impossible goals in the last seconds of a game. He had seen you single-handedly shut down an entire group of guys trying to hit on you at a party. He had seen Seungkwan lose his mind when they ran out of his favorite snacks at the dorms.

But this?

This was a new level of shocking.

He had come over to your place after practice, expecting a normal night of hanging out. Maybe some bickering, maybe some teasing—nothing out of the ordinary.

What he did not expect was to walk into the kitchen and see Vernon standing behind you, arms loosely wrapped around your waist, casually resting his chin on your shoulder while you scrolled through your phone.

And even more shocking?

You were letting him.

You. The queen of personal space. The same person who once smacked Chan for putting his feet on your couch.

But now?

You were just standing there, completely unbothered, letting Vernon be all up in your space like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Chan froze. "WHAT AM I LOOKING AT?"

You barely glanced up. "Hey, Chan."

"No." He pointed an accusatory finger at you. "What is this?"

Vernon blinked lazily. "A kitchen."

"VERNON."

"What?" Vernon was so calm it was infuriating.

Chan sputtered. "You’re—you’re literally all over her, and she’s letting you?"

Vernon hummed. "Yeah."

"YEAH?"

You sighed, turning your head slightly to look at Chan. "Why are you acting like this is a crime?"

"Because YOU used to YELL at me for even TOUCHING YOUR SHOULDER!"

You shrugged. "You’re not Vernon."

"EXACTLY!"

Chan ran a hand down his face, groaning dramatically. "Oh my god. Oh my god, I need a second."

Vernon just looked at him, completely unfazed.

"You’re acting like I’m holding her hostage," Vernon said, resting his chin back on your shoulder.

"Okay," he breathed, pressing a hand to his chest. "I need—I need to sit down."

You rolled your eyes. "Drama queen."

"No, YOU DON’T GET IT," Chan huffed. "I spent YEARS watching you destroy men for breathing near you, and NOW YOU’RE JUST LETTING VERNON CUDDLE YOU IN THE KITCHEN?"

Vernon smirked. "Would you rather I kiss your cousin in the kitchen?"

Chan stared at him, deadpan. "I will throw you in a snowbank."

Vernon just shrugged, unbothered, and looped his arm around your waist again. And when you didn’t move away—didn’t fight it, didn’t act like it was a big deal—Chan lost his mind.

"I CAN’T BE HERE."

And with that, your cousin stormed out of the kitchen.

You laughed, shaking your head. "He’ll be fine."

Vernon just smirked, squeezing your waist slightly before pulling away.

"Yeah," he said. "But this is fun."

And honestly?

He wasn’t wrong.

The first time Vernon kissed you, it wasn’t in some dramatic, romantic moment. It wasn’t after a big fight or some emotional confession.

It was a regular night. The two of you had just finished getting dinner, and he had walked you to your door like he always did.

No pressure. No expectations. Just… Vernon being Vernon.

And as you turned to say goodnight, he just looked at you for a second—head tilted, hands in his pockets, gaze steady as ever.

Then, so casually it almost felt like an afterthought, he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

No rush. No hesitation. Just… easy.

And instead of pulling away, instead of overthinking it you kissed him back.

Because, for once in your life you weren’t scared. You weren’t running. You weren’t waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You were exactly where you were supposed to be.

And Vernon?

He had been waiting for you to figure that out all along.

The apartment was quiet.

Dim lighting from the bedside lamp cast a soft glow across the room, the kind that made everything feel warm and safe. Outside, the city buzzed with life, but inside, within the walls of your shared space, it was just you and Vernon.

And Vernon was clingy.

Not in an obvious, dramatic way. Not in the way some people whined for attention or made a big show of it.

No—Vernon’s clinginess was quiet, subtle, and completely inescapable.

Like now.

You had barely shifted an inch when his arm—already wrapped snugly around your waist—tightened.

"Where are you going?" His voice was low, raspy from sleep.

You sighed. "I wasn’t going anywhere."

"Good."

His hold on you relaxed slightly, but he didn’t let go. He never did. Vernon wasn’t the type to smother you with affection in public, but in private?

He was relentless.

He had to feel you. Had to know you were there. Had to keep you close, even in sleep which explained why your legs were tangled together, his arm was curled around your stomach, and his forehead was resting against the back of your neck.

The warmth of his breath tickled your skin.

You shivered and, of course, Vernon noticed. He let out a quiet hum, nuzzling even closer.

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

Without a word, he pulled the blanket higher, tucked it around you both, and pressed himself closer.

"Better?"

You smiled. "Yeah."

Vernon sighed, his lips barely grazing your shoulder. Silence settled between you. The comfortable kind. The kind where you didn’t need to say anything because just being there was enough.

But then you felt it. The way his fingers started tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin. Soft. Thoughtless. Completely natural.

It was so Vernon.

Always the same quiet gestures. Always the same small ways of showing affection. You reached down, lacing your fingers through his.

Vernon stilled for a second, then—without a word—he intertwined them properly, squeezing once before relaxing again.

And for a while, that was it.

Just the sound of your breathing. Just the warmth of him against you. Just the steady, slow rhythm of two people who fit together perfectly.

But then Vernon spoke.

"…You’re my favorite."

Your heart skipped a beat.

You turned slightly, catching the sleepy, almost shy expression on his face.

You raised an eyebrow. "Favorite what?"

"Just…" His voice was a little hoarse, a little soft, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to say it out loud. "My favorite everything."

Your breath caught.

Vernon never said things like this. Not because he didn’t feel them, but because he didn’t need to.

He showed it instead.

Through the way he waited for you after your internship, even if it meant sitting outside for an hour. Through the way he always pulled you closer in his sleep, like he was scared you’d disappear. Through the way he remembered the smallest things, like how you hated sleeping with socks on or how you always curled up a certain way when you were tired.

He didn’t have to say it.

But he did anyway.

Because you needed to hear it.

You swallowed, heart too full, too warm, too much.

"You’re such a sap," you muttered, trying to sound annoyed, but your voice cracked just a little.

Vernon smirked, eyes half-lidded with sleep.

"You like it."

You huffed. "Maybe."

He chuckled. Then, before you could say anything else, he tilted his head forward, pressed a lazy kiss against your jaw, and mumbled—

"Go to sleep."

And just like that—

You did.

[hellodarling1357]

More Than A Moment: Part 1 - Cassian x Reader (AU!)

What? A post? A whole new fic? After months of broken promises (rip me)?

I sporadically got the inspo to write today and this idea just flowed on out and all but wrote itself!

Is this a stand alone? A multi-part (I hope so)?

Who knows!

Either way, I hope you enjoy 🥰

Summary: After a drunken night between friends, just friends, nothing more, Y/N and Cassian’s lives end up changing forever. But maybe not in the way they had originally expected.

Word Count: 1.5k

“Cassian!” You shout through the door, one fist pounding on the wooden frame as the other, hidden away in your coat pocket, held tightly to what had felt like a lifeline since you had raced to the store just over an hour ago.

“Cassian! I swear to god if you don’t open the door right now…” You took a step back as your fist met the air, the words dying in your throat as a girl with sleep mussed hair, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt that you knew belonged to Cassian, stared back at you with a look of distaste.

“What?” The girl asked, stifling a yawn as her eyes blatantly looked you up and down, a smirk spreading across her lips as she took in your frazzled appearance. “We’re a little busy here, so…”

You blinked at her before pushing past and making your way inside the small apartment, ignoring the girl’s protest as you beelined for Cassian’s room, stopping momentarily as the door opened before you could reach it.

“Y/N. Hey,” the man in question was straightening out a tight black t-shirt, having clearly put on the closest items of clothing he could reach. “I didn’t expect to see you today, especially not at 8 am on a Sunday morning…”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, alright. Could this not have waited until a more reasonable time?”

“Cass, please…”

Clearly picking up on the slight plea in your voice, he nodded, a slight furrow to his brow as he studied you a moment longer before turning to the girl who remained bristling by the front door.

“Hey,” he started, beckoning the girl towards him, you cringed as you took a seat on the couch, not wanting to be a part of the scene that was about to unfold. “So last night was fun, yeah? But I think there’s a few things I need to deal with here so we should probably wrap this up for now?”

“Oh? So you want me to leave?” You rolled your eyes as she clung to him, battering her lashes in hopes of changing his mind as he led her back into his room to help her collect her things, not missing the daggers she sent your way when Cassian’s back was turned.

“It’s not that I want you to leave… But I’ll call you. Soon, alright?”

“You better.”

Barely managing to conceal your scoff you busied yourself with your phone as she pulled him down into a lingering kiss.

“Alright, well get home safe and thanks again for last night…” Cassian trailed off and your attention flickered over in disbelief as he clearly tried to scramble for the poor girl’s name.

“Rebecca. My name’s Rebecca.” Her icy tone was a stark contrast as she moved out of his grasp.

“Of course, I know your name. How could I forget? I was just deciding whether I wanted to start calling you babe or baby.”

You didn’t attempt to hide the disgust at your friend as he shot the girl a charming smile that had her swooning as she said her goodbyes - all iciness melting into a flirtatiously shy smile as she stared up at him from under heavy lashes.

“You really can be a pig sometimes, you do realise that?” You said without looking up from your phone once Cassian had shut the door behind the girl.

“What?” He asked, voice laced in indignation as he slumped onto the couch beside you.

“Oh I dunno, do I call you babe or baby? Of course I remember your name, random-girl-I’ll-never-actually-call.” You lowered your voice into a mockery of his own before being met with a pillow to your face as Cassian got up and headed towards the bathroom.

“Hey, I just got rid of a perfectly nice girl for you. No need for the disrespect. What’s so important anyway? You know I love to see you and all that, but usually not at this time.” He leant against the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth as he stared at you waiting for an answer.

Right.

You had almost forgotten that you were here for a reason other than witnessing one of your closest friends be a complete dick to a girl he’d spent the previous night with.

“Oh… Um yeah it’s all good. Get dressed or whatever then we can chat.”

Cassian stared at you for a moment longer before shrugging and returning to the bathroom. You slumped back as soon as you were out of sight, squashing the pillow Cassian had previously whacked you with against your face as your thoughts raced through your head. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

By the time Cassian was ready, you had had enough time to work yourself into a somewhat frantic state as you paced back and forth, trying to figure out how to even bring up the reason why you had almost knocked down his door on a seemingly normal Sunday.

“Jesus, what’s up with you this morning?” Your head whipped around to face Cassian, freezing mid-pace to stare at him like a deer in headlights. When the only reply you could muster was the very unsubtle opening and closing of your mouth, Cassian let out a sigh as he reached for his shoes. “Well, seeing that you appear to have a whole heap of pent up energy, we’re walking to the cafe down the street. Your shout for waking me up and prematurely ending what was sure to be a very satisfying Sunday morning.”

You scrunched your nose but nodded all the same as you silently headed towards the door, missing the concerned look on Cassian’s face as his eyes trailed your retreating figure before he jumped up to follow you out.

——

The ten minute walk was silent except for the slight crunch of autumn leaves under foot as the pair of you narrowly avoided the early risers who were jogging past along the footpath and manoeuvred around the copious stream of families with young children enjoying the crisp morning air; your heart rate soared as you tried to control your breathing

Cassian managed to score a secluded table tucked away by the window, thanking the waiter for the menus and water as you stared past him in a daze, your mind reeled of how to approach telling him what had happened, what had resulted from…

A large hand waving in front of your face had you blinking in surprise.

“Y/N?”

“Yep. Hi.”

Cassian gave you another quizzical look but was halted from saying anything else as the waiter returned, asking about coffee and food orders.

“Just a long black for me, thanks.”

You could hear your heartbeat and wouldn’t be surprised if everyone around you could as well.

“Y/N?” Cassian gave you a soft kick under the table, pulling your attention to the waiter who was looking at you expectantly.

“Oh, um… Just a latte. Thank you,” Shit. Could you even have coffee now? “Wait. I mean, no. Just a tea. Peppermint, please. If you have it. Sorry.” Your voice trailed after the waiter as he nodded and walked off with a shake of his head. So far, this was not going well.

“Alright, what has gotten into you?” The immediate retort of ‘um you?’ was held back by a bite of your tongue. “You better not be here confessing your love for me. I mean we spoke about this, right? It was just a one off, drunken night between two friends who both happen to be very attractive.”

Some of the tension left your shoulders as you offered a small smile in appreciation of Cassian’s attempt to lighten the mood.

“You’re not actually in love with me are you?” You rolled your eyes at the slight panic in his expression, deciding not to take it as an insult. “I mean, I love you, but, you know, as a friend. Because we’re friends. We’re all friends; me, you, Rhys, Az, Feyre, Mor…”

“Cassian,” you let the smile grow a bit as he prattled on. “I’m not in love with you.”

“Oh, thank god. No offence.” He offered you a guilty looking smile which softened as he nodded in encouragement for you to continue.

“But I did want to talk about that night…” You trailed off, trying to gauge Cassian’s response as he quirked his head to the side and furrowed his brows in confusion. Well, here it goes. Taking in a deep breath, you reached into your pocked and placed the pregnancy test on the table.

“Cass, I’m pregnant.”

----------

I have so many ideas for this and how I want to continue it but would love to hear your thoughts!!

[bellamoooon]

Childhood best friends to lovers, i love this concept a little too much and got carried away lol <33

She’d never know, at least that’s what he convinced himself of.

She’d never know that she was like a breath of fresh air after drowning for hours, that she was like the first bit of light rising up in the morning, that she was like the feeling of warmth when getting praised, that talking to her was like hearing his favorite song for the first time again, that her laugh was engraved in his brain and he could hear it even when she wasn’t around, that her presence radiated light that seeped right into his bones, that seeing her was like a shot of espresso immediately waking every nerve in his system, that her smile gleamed with such brightness it could light up the whole world in an eternal darkness, that her eyes said so much more than anything she had ever said, that she was a perfectly aligned harmony when everything else was out of tune.

She’d never know, but he did.

She lived within him; His whole life had been reduced to her.

“Wow Art, this is really good!” his literature teacher spoke as she read his paper, “y’know, if the whole tennis thing doesn’t work out, you could be the next big writer, I mean it.”

For his literature class, as a “creative exploration exercise”—his teacher calls it—they had been assigned to write a paper on someone of something which they could understand as unrequited love, of course he had chosen you, because what better example than you and Art.

You and Art have known each other since diapers due to your parents being best friends from their college days up to the present day, which sort of brought the two of you together one way or another, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, and neither would art.

Growing you with you might’ve been one of the best things he has ever been able to experience, he wishes people could actually get to feel what its like to be shined on by your light, for him, it truly is unearthly every time.

Sure, you two had distance shoved in your faces when he went to MRTA, but when he returned home for breaks, it was like nothing changed, it was just you and Art.

And of course as cliché as it may be, the inevitable happened, Art began to fall in love with you.

At first, he tried to convince himself that it was just the affection he had for his best friend, but he had no way to deny it. From the second he stopped just seeing you, but when he started seeing you.

He could try to blame it on his hormones and being a teenager, but everything else contradicted that.

In the summer, seeing you in your two-piece swimsuit didn’t seem the same, especially since you had started to grow into your big girl body, as his nana said.

At Christmas when he saw you walk into the living room dressed as Cindy Lou who from shoes to hair, with a goofy smile, but why did it make him blush? You seemed the same, you did this every year.

Patrick mocked him for having a small picture of the two of you in his wallet, but he didn’t care, whenever he was having a bad day, or missed home, he’d look at the picture, instantly erasing anything that disturbed his thoughts.

But you’d never know that. And he was okay with that. For the most part.

A couple of weeks he went back home for spring break, he was feeing at ease, he’d see his parents, his nana, and…you.

“Artie! My sweet boy!” his grandmother called out as he walked out of the car to the front porch with a suitcase in his hand, and a wide smile. His grandmother ran up to him wrapping her arms around him, her warmth immediately transferring to his skin, he was home.

“Nana, hey, how’ve you been?” he spoke with a sweet tone as he hugged her back. Sure, tennis was his whole life, but coming back home felt like a weight was lifted off his back, he doesn’t have to be THE Art Donaldson, he was just…Art.

“You look so tired baby boy, let me take your bags, go take a shower” his nana said as she shut the door behind her.

“Nana, seriously don’t worry—“

��Will you just let me take care of you while you’re here? You’ve gotta do all this yourself at school, but not here Artie” and well, there isn’t much arguing with nana Donaldson, it’s just how it’s been his whole life.

After his shower, Art walked in his room with a calm breath and loose muscles, how he needed that warm shower, as he walked over to his bag, which was placed next to the window he began to look for some clothes.

He wasn’t one to feel prying eyes on him but by reflex, Art lifted his head as he looked through the window, it was you.

You covered your mouth clearly giggling as he looked down at himself completely naked only covered by a towel wrapped around his waist, “fuck me” he muttered as he looked up once again but now face completely flushed and the tips of his ears burning red.

He waved awkwardly as he pulled the curtains closed feeling flustered, he wanted to get his mind off of her, so he said, how’s that going? Not great.

His nana looked up as he came downstairs with a puzzled expression, your name left his lips.

“What about her?” She asked as she left a plated grilled cheese in front of him.

“Why didn’t you tell me she was home for the break?” She laughed, why is she laughing?

“Sweetie, I thought it was obvious, she always come back home for breaks” she shook her head as she smiled playfully, “though, I think there’s something about her being here that bothers you”

“What— no, no, it doesn’t bother me, I just— would’ve expected something else, I don’t know”

“You sure?” She slid the paper across the counter with delicacy, “are you absolutely sure baby?”

“Nana! I told you to stop snooping, come on!” He said taking the paper as quickly as possible, could this day get any worse?

“One, I wasn’t snooping, it fell out of your backpack, and two, Artie, you know you can tell me anything, right?” He lowered his head ever so slightly as he grabbed the sandwich to then take a bite.

“I know.” He said once he swallowed, she leaned against the counter with curious eyes.

“She’s good, she’s smart, and really talented, did you hear she put out a song?” He lifted his brows in surprise, you really had picked music, over psychology, huh…

“Huh…well that’s great, I’m sure she’ll do great with all that” his nana scoffed as she muttered a small “art…” with a warning tone, “what? I mean it”

“You gotta give me more than that after that thing you wrote, Art, I taught you better than this.”

“I just—! I don’t know what to say, Nana, that’s the problem. Not to you, not to Patrick and most definitely not to her” he spilled, fiddling nervously with his hands, “I’d screw our friendship, one sided feelings aren’t worth risking years of trust.”

“Well you never know Artie, sometimes holding onto those feelings is painful, even if something is on the line, it isn’t worth it if you’re hurting” she was right, but Art would never say that out loud, this was all too much for him.

“It’s just…it’s not easy”

“Well my boy, no one said love was easy, and sometimes, just sometimes, the most complicated loves, are the most beautiful ones” he listened intently as he finished off the grilled cheese, she was right, maybe all he needed to do was tell her.

You had to know.

So there he was at 2:34 a.m throwing small pebbles at your window, just like he did years ago to then go the skate park at midnight and sit at the top of the ramps while you talked till sunrise.

“Stop throwing rocks Donaldson, you’ll wake the dog” you came out the door in pjs but wrapped in a jacket, he turned with a confused expression “I came running down when I felt the first two rocks” you laughed softly as you blushed slightly, God you missed this.

It’s like being kids all over again.

“So how’s tennis and all, Mr. Stanford?” You asked as you swung your hanging feet off the ramp.

“Y’know tennis is the same always, trust me, you don’t care” he laughed as he shook his head, “but Stanford is nice, just not the same without you and Patrick on my ass all the time”

“Ah, of course, because that’s the biggest change you’ve had since we were kids up to today” you rolled your eyes as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Yeah…” he chuckled dryly as he looked away, could he be more obvious, goddamn.

“What?”

“No— no, it’s nothing” he insisted.

“Art I know you, it’s not nothing, what’s up?” You pushed as he looked up at the sky biting his lip while humming, “Art?”

“Hm?” He turned to look at you again, you lifted a brow silently asking once again, “ah…I— I love you” he blurted out unable to stop himself.

You opened your mouth but nothing came out.

“I have since the summer you turned fifteen, you just— you kinda started to seem different to me, and I— I fell in love with you.” He sighed, “and I know timing sucks and it’s gonna make things weird, but if I didn’t tell you, it would eat me alive, y’know it’s been so long—“ his rambling got cut off as your lips crashed onto his almost immediately.

His body tensed up completely, the feeling of your lips foreign to his, but so familiar at the same time, the reality was better than any dream he had ever managed to build up in his mind, your plump lips tasting faintly like cherry lip gloss, he was most likely dreaming, he thought, cause there is no way he had told you how he felt, and even less probabilities of him kissing you.

As you pulled away, he found himself instinctively following you with parted lips and eyes shut, he was so high with your mere presence, a soft giggle from you snapped him back to reality as his eyes opened up slowly, pupils blown, he looked as if he had just seen God.

“…Did you just—“

“Kiss you?” You ask slightly tilting your head with a giddy smile, “seems like it”

You shrugged as you snorted softly.

“Oh.” Oh was the only thing his brain could process for him to say still stunned.

“Okay— so you tell me you love me, but I kiss you and all you say is ‘oh’, I mean—“ you said as you licked your lips as you thought.

“I just— I didn’t think you’d— like…you…like…” he fumbled as he tried to pull a thought out of the back of his brain.

“Art, you’re telling me you didn’t expect me to kiss you, when I’ve literally had this…I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, and I’ve been as subtle as a marching band” you tell him as a blush creeps up your face while you chuckle nervously.

“You’re kidding, right?” You shake your head with a small grin, he scoffs as he covers his face with his hands, “am I just that dense?”

“Not dense, more like…oblivious” you laugh as he glares back playfully.

Then there’s beat of silence, that moment where suddenly everything had fallen into place, he’s been pining over you for years, and you’ve waited for the right moment for as long as you can remember, but then the question settles in, what now?

“Uhm…art…?” You turn to him with hesitation, he hums in response “what now? I mean, you’re going back to cali after break and I’m going back to New York…”

“Hm…I hadn’t really thought that far into it” he said softly turning to look at you with gentle eyes, “what now?” He asks back softly.

“I— I like you, Art, I’m in it for the long game.” You spoke honestly as you fiddled with your fingers.

“I’ll play the long game. You’re out there, I’m out there too, we’ll see each other in summer, thanksgiving, and Christmas…I mean it, I— don’t just like you.” He confessed as he chewed on the inside of his cheek nervously.

“I can do that” you said softly, smiling back at him, letting out a small breath, “long game…?”

Your hand cupped his cheek making him face you, he smiled as he nodded, looking down at your lips and back at your eyes “long game.” He muttered as he leaned in kissing you once again, holding you gently in a fear of breaking you.

That right there. That was it, you were the living proof of unrequited love for him.

[nerosukehiro]

𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘱 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦

Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

(Smut)

A/N… all I can say is I’m on my period rn, and I’m going fucking feral for this man.

(Not proof read)

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄ ▄▀▄▀▄▀ ▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Everyday was always the same routine. Eat, train, eat again, train more, eat again then go to bed. Life as a soldier wasn’t so bad. I mean you get a bed, 3 meals a day, form friendships with amazing people and if you’re really lucky you’d get to be Captain Levi’s fuck buddy.

As first it was an accident. We had lost so many people during the mission and I just happened to be there for Levi in that moment. He was frustrated and needed some relief, so I offered a helping hand.

What I didn’t think was that meant he would push me on his desk and rearrange my insides. Instead of my hand it was my pussy, not that I mind though.

The captain may be on the short side but this dude literally has a fucking third leg hidden. Lucky for me I’m shorter so I have to constantly look up to him. Anytime I do he smirks at me which just makes the butterflies in my stomach do dances.

It has been a few months since my first sexual encounter with Humanities Strongest. I assumed it was a one time thing and never again, however, Levi had other plans.

So for the last 4 months we had been screwing around together. It’s a secret neither of us tell other people.

“Cadet Y/N, will you meet me in my office in 10 minutes.” Levi not really asking but commanded. As I was finishing cleaning I looked at him for a second then my eyes shot to Sasha. I quickly looked back at the Captain and he shot me a quick wink and a small smirk.

“Uh yes sir!” I saluted and he walked off making me feel a bit nervous.

“Should I go ahead and plan for your funeral?” Sasha asked me causing me to laugh but also still have fear.

Is he wanting to call it off, did I do something that upset him? Surely not since he winked and smirked at me. But we always wait until everyone is asleep, wonder why he’s wanting to see me now?

“Hey you better get going, wouldn’t want scary man to get mad would we?” Sasha says this making me laugh. She so good, I love her so much.

“Okay, I’ll come find you when I’m done with him.” She nodded and smiled.

“Bye bestie!”

__________________________________________________

Before I could knock on the door, it opened and a hand grabbed my wrist pulling me inside with my body getting pushed up against the wall.

“God I fucking missed you.” Levi grips my face and smashes his lips against mine. “But I thought we agreed to wait until everyone was asleep?” My heart is literally pounding out of my chest.

“About that, I want to change our terms. Come sit with me.” He started walking me toward the couch that was in his office. Before I could sit down he gripped my hips and made sure I sat on his lap.

He looked in my eyes and smiled. This caused me to gasp, I have never seen this man actually smile before.

“Are you okay? You’re acting different.” He started laughing. I tried to get up from his lap but his arms wrapped around my waist pulling me even closer to him making my ass sit right on top of his crotch.

“I’m tired of hiding our relationship, I want everyone to know that you belong to me. I can’t keep watching these pubescent boys stare at what’s mine.”

Is he serious?

“Levi, I thought you said relationships were a waste of time. That was the first thing you said before you fucked me the first time and now you’re jealous of other people looking my way. Why do you care?”

He picked me up bridal style and carried me to his bedroom, gently putting me down on the bed he stayed on his knees at the end. He let out a sigh and looked up at me.

“Because… I- fuck this harder than I thought. I want you. Not just for one night, I want you all the time. I want to wake up to you in the morning or in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep. I wanna be able to hold you, kiss you, fuck you whenever I want. I wanna one day marry you and have kids with you if that’s something you’d want. These last 4 months have been the best of my life. Please let me make you mine.”

To say I was at a loss for words was an understatement. So he does feel the same way I do, after all this time? I could tell that he nervous, he was staring into my eyes waiting for me to say something back.

“If you don’t-“ I stopped him from finishing his sentence by giving him a big kiss. “I’ve been waiting to hear this. All I want it you Levi.”

__________________________________________________

“Fuck that’s a good girl, taking my cock so well baby.” Levi praises me. We’ve been going at it for a few hours now. Pretty sure it’s night time since it’s pitch black outside.

“L-Levi I- fuck I’m gonna cum!” This is probably the 8th time I’ve said that sentence. He was deep inside of me, his tip literally kissing my cervix. He was giving me everything and I was loving every second of it.

After we confessed our feelings his face went straight to my pussy making me cum on his tongue 4 times. This man is a hater for dirtiness but loved to make a mess out of me. In fact he took pride in making me squirt with just his tongue alone.

“So deep! So fucking deep baby!”

My throat was so sore from all of the moaning I had been doing. He loved hearing it. It let him know how he was making me feel which was pure pleasure.

“I wanna hear you say who’s owns this pussy.” He demanded and if I wasn’t so cock drunk I would have done as he asked but no. He just has to have a big cock and knows how to use it. He has my eyes crossing, my tongue sticking out. The sound of skin slapping against each other. His heavy balls smacking against my ass and the noises my pussy was making was lewd. Anyone who could walk by Levi’s quarters would be an idiot if they couldn’t figure out what was going on.

As he got tired of waiting, he wrapped his hand around my neck and started to squeeze. “Fu-ck! Yours! MY PUSSY IS YOURS! PLEASE LEVI I NEED TO COME SO SO BAD!!!”

I literally fucking screamed. The way he was hitting spots only he has ever been managed to reach on top of rubbing my clit has me seeing stars. As he kept going I could feeling myself getting ready to squirt again.

Of course I warn him whenever so he has time to stop and not cause a mess to happen. But for some reason Levi did not give a fuck.

“Squirt on this dick baby, Daddy’s gonna fill you up so good.” I’ve lost it. Whenever he calls himself that it always makes my pussy 10xs more wet than usual. He knows this, we’ve fucked countless times so of course he does. Drenched his thighs, my bottom half, pretty sure it’s all over his bed too. But yet again he does not fucking care.

“I’m gonna fucking cum in this tight little pussy, maybe get you pregnant, put a ring on the finger and then everyone will know who you belong to. I bet you’d like that huh? Me making you a mommy? Fuck just saying that and your pussy clenched around me.”

The only thing I could say was “Please Daddy! Make me a mommy. I want your cum so bad. Wanna. Feel. Full.”

And just like that he lost it painting my insides white with thick ropes of cum. He smiled at me and gave me a big kiss on the lips before pulling out and getting up to get something to clean me off with.

“So… trying to get me pregnant?” I said as Levi finished cleaning himself and I up. He looked at me and chuckled. “And gonna put a ring on your finger, just you wait. Soon you’ll be Mrs. Y/N Ackerman.”

I gripped his jaw and gave him an another big kiss before saying.

“One step at a time.”

[toasttt11]

cleared up

September 1, 2022

Mary laughed as James tripped and tried to pretend he didn’t and he shot her a playful glare.

Mary and James were the last ones on the ice after practice just shooting more pucks together until they had to get off for the next team to practice.

Mary and James have spent most of their time together the last two week since they met, something that has definitely surprised anyone who knows Mary.

Will was just glad Mary has found such a good friend and glad to see her so happy.

Mary just feels comfortable with James and she decided to tell him about her ear into a few days ago and he took it extremely well, James was immediately asking questions wanting to be aware of everything involving her ear and he naturally started staying on her left side making sure to never go on her right side so she could hear him clearly.

It was a small thing but to Mary it just showed how accepting James is and she’s really glad to be his friend.

Ryan walked up the tunnel and standing at the bench as his practice was about to start and frowned crossing his arms seeing Mary with some guy.

He immediately did not like this and frowned even more seeing her laughing and smiling with the boy, he loves seeing her smiling and laughing but not with this … boy.

Ryan and heard from Mary and Will about James but he hasn’t had the chance to officially meet him yet.

Ryan is happy that Mary had a friend but he didn’t like how it made him feel seeing her with another guy who he had no idea what James felt for Mary. James could have a crush on Mary for all Ryan knows and Ryan doesn’t want anyone else with Mary unless Mary likes them than he will painfully accept that and step back but he has a feeling she won’t do that or he hopes she won’t.

A small part of him was upset over the fact he couldn’t be the friend Mary needed.

Mary and James cleaned up some of the pucks that they used before turning heading towards the bench to get off the ice when Mary saw Ryan standing at the bench, her face brighten and she waved at him.
Ryan looked over seeing her waving at him and his face brightened despite his thoughts by just seeing Mary and he softly waved back.
James raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Come on Jamesy you have to meet Ryan.” Mary told James and grabbed the sleeve of his jersey pulling him to Ryan.

James nodded slowly, He’s heard a lot about Ryan from Mary so it was nice to see the face of the boy he’s heard so much about.

“Ry!” Mary smiled brightly at Ryan taking her helmet off as she hopped off the ice and walked over to Ryan.

“Hey Ellie Belly.” Ryan mused fondly his hand brushing against her blonde hair that was in bubble braids.

James looked between the two with a growing smirk immediately realizing what was going on.

“Ry this is James my friend and line mate.” Mary proudly introduced with an easy grin staying close to Ryan’s side.

Ryan looked at James titling his head and James just raised an eyebrow having a feeling he knew why he was getting look from Ryan.

“Nice to meet you.” Ryan spoke monotonously making James and Mary both give him identical looks not believing his words.

“Nice to meet you. Mara doesn’t shut up about you.” James teased not taking Ryan’s word to harm and gave Ryan a smile. He immediately realized Mary and Ryan obviously like each other, it’s obvious. Ryan probably thinks James likes Mary, which James does not.

“Does she?” Ryan started smiling again and looked at Mary teasing relishing in the pink that dusted her cheeks, the pink just different enough from when she is on the ice Ryan immediately could tell the blushing was because of him and not from the ice.

Mary just rolled her eyes fondly at both of their teasing and shook her head before heading to the tunnel and started heading down the tunnel to the locker room.

“Man you have got it bad.” James smirked teasing crossing his arms over his chest.

“So?” Ryan crossed his arms to giving James a look, he’s not sure why James is bringing this up.

“Oh i just wanted you to know i’m not interested in Mary like that all. I purely care for heras my friend.” James just honestly told Ryan, he wanted to clear this up immediately. He’s found his first real friend in Mary and he wants to make sure Ryan doesn’t have a grudge or they don’t have a decent relationship with one another because he knows how much it will mean to Mary.

The tension in Ryan’s shoulders loosened and he un crossed his arms, “Thanks man.” Ryan gave him an appreciated look because James did not need to tell him this but James did.

“Mara is my friend now. I want to make sure i’m chill with the people she loves.” James just honestly answered shrugging nonchalantly.

“Good answer.” Ryan nodded approvingly patting James on the shoulder, “Now i know her and she’s definitely waiting to you so hurry up.” Ryan said looking amused as James threw him a wave before rushing down the tunnel and to the locker room where Mary was.

Ryan shook his head fondly, he has a feeling James would be sticking around now.

Ryan is glad Mary has found such a good friend but he wishes he could be that friend for Mary or even more than a friend but every time he even tries to say something about his feelings Will has interrupted them.

Ryan took that as sign to just wait and be patient for once because one day he is going to confess his feelings to Mary and he is not going to be interrupted.

He just needed to be patient.

[dirt-str1der]

Boys were invented for me to chase around the nightmare woods with a big knife and blunderbuss

[xervn]

melatonin

two-shot | enemies to fuckers sevika x reader

pt. 2

ao3 link

summary: you're forced to go on a business trip with your least favorite coworker and share a room with her. now you can't sleep.

18+ MDNI | 4.1k words | tags; canon divergence, sevika is a little mean, sevika is nonchalant fr, reader is a brat, very light sub/dom, vaginal fingering, scissoring, begging kink, praise kink kinda, porn w/ plot-ish, no use of y/n

new record; took me 4 days to write. i don't know who possessed me. i love enemies to lovers so bad FUCKKKK!!!

“One room.” The motel owner, an old, short, and grotesque-looking woman with a thick accent, says. 

 “One room? Clear another one out then?” You insist, mildly threateningly. The woman’s eyes glaze over as she blinks. She’s not moved.

“There are two beds; who cares?” Sevika grumbles, clearly over your antics.

You shoot a glare in her direction, lip forming into a scowl. “I’m not sharing a room with you; you look like you snore.” 

She tells you something along the lines of go fuck or kill yourself (you weren’t really listening) before pushing past you and replacing the room keys on the counter with a stack of silver cogs. 

The owner collects the cogs with a grunt before adjusting her small reader glasses. Sevika strides off towards the rooms, and you quickly turn after her.

“Couldn’t you have tried to help?” You ask. Your eyes burn a hole through the side of her face.

She doesn’t spare you a glance. “You’re dramatic, and I don’t have the patience to deal with your bullshit right now.”

You hate her. You fucking hate her. You’ve been working alongside Sevika for two years now, yet you can’t shake the feeling. It started when you first met; Sevika was cold and critical, reprimanding you even though you were young and starting out. That’s not even what drove you to hate her, though; at least back then it felt like she was looking out for you, but you were painfully mistaken when you got promoted within the year. 

You don’t know what it was; jealousy, doubt, but her distaste for you only grew more apparent. There were fewer critiques and more insults about how you work or about your intelligence. Insufferable. She was insufferable.

There hasn’t been a day she’s been likable since then, so imagine your reaction when Silco tells you and her to go on a little business trip to Bilgewater. No matter how much the both of you wanted to protest, you didn’t. Instead you two argued amongst yourselves the whole trip there. 

Why would you want to spend even more unnecessary time around her?

The minute you guys enter your room, you don’t speak a single word to each other, let alone look each other’s way. You take turns using the restroom to get ready for bed, and then you find a place for your belongings, and Sevika ejects her bionic arm for the night. Although you two definitely don’t like each other, it doesn’t mean you don’t trust each other. You know she won’t rob you; she knows you won’t (can’t) take advantage and kill her. That’s the only semblance of peace you share.

— 

A faint amber light soaks through your eyelids, and you blink them open to the popcorned ceiling. You toss and turn in your bed, rustling around, unable to find a good position, and it doesn’t help that the cheap mattress is, well, cheap. You can’t sleep. You’ve always had trouble sleeping, but it’s never been a real problem before; you’d just stay up. Yes, you have permanent eye bags because of it, but it’s not like you can choose otherwise. You‘re from Zaun; any aid for it is not exactly accessible. 

However, the meeting you have tomorrow is important, so it’s important that you find a way. You can’t afford to slack off or doze off during it; you’re the negotiator, and tomorrow makes or breaks a trade deal that will be most beneficial for Zaun’s income. 

You rustle in your bed sheets again, and Sevika immediately groans. “Can you stop? And turn the lamp off.”

You look at her and you’re about to apologize, but you hold your tongue when you remember who you’re talking to. “I can’t sleep.”

“Turn the lamp off and fucking figure it out.” She snaps, turning her back towards you.

“Can’t you hear?” You squirm around, making as much noise as possible to get your point across. “I’m trying.”

“Find a different way. Count poros. Turn the lamp off.”

You scoff, eyes back on the ceiling, “I’m not five; counting poros doesn’t work, and I’m not turning off the lamp.”

You can hear Sevika shifting in her bed. “I knew you should’ve stayed back,” she sighs, “and you’re scared of the dark? Grow up.”

“Wow, fuck you. If you had asked nicely, I would’ve turned it off, and what do you mean I ‘should’ve stayed’? You’re not my boss. I’m more valuable than you are.” You angrily rant. 

“Alright, you are talking way too much right now. Cut it out.” 

“…No.” You reply. It sounds unconvincing with your lack of words, but it was the best you could come up with.

“Do you need calming tea or something? What will get you to shut up, because I’m about to hold a pillow over your head and call it a night.” She growls.

“Nothing. I can only sleep if I get a concussion or if I drink my pants off.”

She says your name like a warning, “If you ruin this deal, I’ll make sure to see you off myself.”

You bite back, “Sevika, if I could sleep, I would be sleeping. I don’t want to ruin it either, but your scolding isn’t helping.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, then Sevika grunts stubbornly. It’s followed by sheets moving and a dull stomp on the floor. You turn to look, and you see Sevika sitting at the side of her bed. 

You glance at her muscular thighs in those gray shorts—you couldn’t help it—before staring back at the ceiling. “Are you going to make me tea?”

She pushes off the bed with her one arm. “No.”

“Switching rooms then?” You ask as your eyes follow her shadow’s movement on the walls. 

“No.”

“Then... What is it?“ You turn, flinching a bit when you find Sevika peering down at you. 

She looks hesitant, timid; the first time you’ve ever seen it. “I’ll help you.”

Your defenses go off, and you quickly sit up. “Wait. You’re not going to kill me, right?”

“Over sleep? Are you stupid?” She pushes you back down, and not with much force, obviously.

You lay there, defeated. “So?”

“I said, ‘I’ll help you.'” She restates.

You stare up at her with slight annoyance, “Well, you have to tell me how?”

She has an indecisive frown before exhaling, “If you come, you’ll shut up.” 

Your head shakes in confusion. “Come? Where are we going?” 

“You’re an actual idiot.” She groans.

You gasp in offense. “You’re the one being fucking cryptic—“

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.” 

“What?”

“I’ll fuck you to sleep.”

“I heard you; I’m just,” you laugh nervously, “are you serious?” Your ears must be playing tricks on you. 

“We’re not close enough to joke around with each other.” She says plainly.

Baffled, you reply, “We’re not close enough to fuck either?” 

“Do you really care about shit like that? Sex is sex.”

You think about it for a second. You’ve never been in a proper relationship, and you’ve only had a handful of hookups, but you’ve never slept with someone you dislike, and you definitely don’t like Sevika. Even if she is hot. “Well, I guess not—“

“—Then what’s the issue?” Her eyes bore into you.

You gulp at the sudden weight of her stare, but you don’t crumble. “The issue is that I don’t like you. At all.”

Sevika scoffs, “I’ve seen the way you stare at me. You’re not subtle. At all. I saw you do it a few minutes ago.”

How embarrassing. It’s true, between all your hate are moments of admiration. Sevika is “cool,” she’s respected, she’s feared. She’s also full of herself, naggy, and blunt. Both things can be true. But on top of that, she’s hot to the point it’s frustrating. 

One time, while she was sitting in her designated booth at The Last Drop playing poker, she locked eyes with you after a big win. There was that sexy, satisfied grin she always gets after every win, and she had the audacity to lock eyes with you. 

Your thighs pressed together. You beat yourself up over it for the rest of the night and the following day; you couldn’t even look her in the eye without getting unreasonably angry.

Your face is turning warm, but there’s no point in turning away—you have to fake it until you make it. “Okay? What’s your point?” You ask, even though her point was very clear. You’re running yourself into walls.

Sevika already deciphered that; her face reads, ‘Where the fuck are you right now?’ “Listen, I don’t like you either, but if you want to sleep, I’ll help you, and if you don’t, I’ll get another room.” She explains.

You can tell it’s her final offer. You chew your bottom lip until you remember Sevika is still looking at you. Hiding your face behind your hand, you can’t believe you’re considering it. Sex with Sevika. Sounds mad when you repeat it in your head. It’s just sex, though, right? You knew she loved Zaun, but you didn’t know she loved it this much. Sleeping with you, practically her arch nemesis, for the betterment of society. That sounds insane. This is insane.

Sevika kisses her teeth, “Forget it—“ 

“—Okay,” you interrupt, “help me.” You’re unable to look her in the eyes. 

She looks at you dubiously, and her lack of doing anything unnerves you, so you continue. “Please?” You slowly look up at her, and you swear her eyes darkened. 

“Please?” She mimics. “Didn’t take you for the submissive type.” 

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You reply, although it comes out like a whisper.

“Mhm,” she hums apathetically, pulling up the covers draped over you. Her knee makes a dip in the bed. “Make some space,” she asks. You sit up, and you have no idea what to do. Looking left and right, you'd think you were trying to cross the road. She stares blankly. “Just spread your legs.” She commands.

You immediately do as she says, and she chuckles to herself at how you continue to prove her right. You’re clearly not a fan of that, your frown prominent. “What’s funny?” 

Sevika kneels herself between your legs, using her arm to help balance her in place. “Man, you love to argue.” 

You shrug. “I’ll stop when you fuck me to sleep. If you can... Don’t you think you’re a little overconfident?” 

Sevika slowly blinks at you, unsure of whether she should be turned on or irritated. You take it as the latter, and now it’s your turn to chuckle to yourself. But your self-satisfied giggling stops when she leans over you, inches away from your face, “You’re about to find out.” 

You never took the time to process Sevika kneeling between your legs, and now you can feel each exhale from her on your face. Your body starts to process it too: your breathing gets heavier and your heartbeat gets faster. You don’t have a crush on her or anything, but this is an unusual, unsurprisingly hot experience. Your eyes flicker to her full, uneven lips before they squeeze shut.

Sevika flicks your forehead. “Wh—ow?!” You whine, rubbing your head with your hand to soothe it. 

“I’m not kissing you.” She clarifies.

Your face warms with embarrassment, fingers gripping at the fabric beneath you. “How was I supposed to know you wanted a staring contest?” You grumble.

Sevika rolls her eyes, barely shaking her head in disappointment. Her face moves on from yours, and her lips attack the exposed curvature of your neck, licking, biting, and rendering you speechless. She gives you no time to regulate your emotions, and you let out a soft groan you would’ve otherwise swallowed down. Just what she wanted: less talking, more moaning.

Letting her guide the tilt of your head, you awkwardly rest your hands on her shoulders. You’re unsure of whether you can or should touch her. She pauses. “Sor— I… uh…” You stammer and put your hands up. You decide to just stop speaking to save yourself.

“Relax.” She tells you, gazing at you through her loose, dark hair. It stirs something below you. 

You place your hands back on her shoulders, albeit reluctantly, and try to maintain eye contact so you look composed. 

Sevika doesn’t buy it. She glances at your hands, very tellingly. “…Relax.” She repeats, softer than she did before, and your heart skips a beat like you’re in a cliché. 

Hesitantly, you slide your arms around her shoulders, linking your hands together. It feels intimate, too intimate, and looking at her is getting harder by the second. Sevika chuckles in a way that borders on a scoff. “You wanted to do that; don’t be shy about it.”

You huff, “I didn’t know I was being teased to sleep…”

“Is it working? It’d save me time.”

“Fuck off...” 

“You’d hate that.” She replies, as if it’s undeniable. It is, but she’s way too cocky about it. You look like you’re about to curse her out, but you’re holding it back. 

Sevika grins smugly, and for a moment, she considers kissing you. Your arms are wrapped around her shoulders, your eyes are yelling, ‘Fuck me already,’ lips practically begging to meet hers.

This is intimate, too intimate. It’s fucking with her logical reasoning—not that this is logical to begin with. It sounds stupid, but it’s worked for her so far; she casually fucks on the regular, and she doesn’t kiss them ever. Never really felt like it. Yet, here you are, making her feel new things. She knows there’s no going back if she makes an exception with you, and quite frankly, you still piss her off. It’s conflicting.

You impatiently perk a brow at her. You had to stop yourself from flat-out asking her to continue; your ego can’t afford you coming off as begging.

For a millisecond she looks like she got caught, then a millisecond later, she’s on you again. 

She attentively kisses the skin below the curve of your jawline, her tongue making frequent warm appearances. It’s much more fervent, but rough in a way that makes you tremble. She always makes sure you feel her teeth gliding over when she moves to the next spot. Your legs move on their own, one leg curling up against her side. You’re already pooling where you’re seated, but now it’s getting uncomfortable to sit this damp. 

Experienced is how you can describe her right now. You heard rumors of her activity, but you never believed it. There was no way her ol’ grumpy ass was getting laid, no matter how incredibly sexy she was. Then again, you never got along, which makes this situation, this fucking feeling, even crazier. 

She was being extra careful not to bruise you at first, but she seems not to care anymore, only driven further when she hears your little gasps or feels your arms tightening around her. She’s getting carried away, but she’ll figure out how to play it off some other time.

 Sevika pulls back. She throbs at your dazed and confused expression.  “Come closer.” She ushers as she transitions to sitting rather than kneeling on the bed. 

With no hesitation, you don’t let go of Sevika as you push yourself forward on your hips, sitting your ass comfortably on the edge of Sevika’s lap. Her hand lands on your waist. She says, “Lay down for me.” 

You nod shyly, removing your arms from Sevika’s shoulders and descending onto the mattress. Sevika tries to ignore how the loss of your arms around her made her feel. Her hand travels to the waistband of your joggers. “You’re going to have to move these for me too.” She asks, shrugging her shoulder that’s missing an arm as a reminder. 

She doesn’t move; she waits. Your insides do a flip. She’s waiting for you to remove them how you are now: legs diverged around her, hips pointed towards her. You think about how vulnerable you’ll look and feel when you slide them off, showing her the sopping mess she unknowingly made between your legs. You know she’s going to see it eventually, but from you doing the honors? That’s tearing you apart. She notices a shift in your demeanor, but she doesn’t acknowledge it. “Hurry up.” 

“Can’t you move back…?”

Sevika rolls her eyes. “No.”

You whine in embarrassment, briefly shielding your face in your hands before hastily pulling at your waistband. You wish you had turned the lamp off.

Sevika’s hand clasps over yours. “Slowly.” She scolds. Scolds. You’re fucking flabbergasted. She’s doing this on purpose, you can tell. She’s barely holding back another signature, smug smile. 

“You’re such a dick.” You curse. A direct juxtaposition in your actions that don’t defy Sevika at all. Hell, it juxtaposes your body because of how you’re aching for her.

“Yeah, yeah. Off.” She pulls at the band of your pants, letting it slap down when she releases it. 

You mutter out a few more curses that she fully grins at before you silently begin to remove your joggers and underwear simultaneously. You lift your hips for mobility, and Sevika’s eyes are glued to the fabric making its way down your thighs, and you’re forced to watch how intently she’s watching you. You can try to insist this is humiliating and cruel, but you can’t stop throbbing just from this; her eyes anticipating your reveal, like you’re a self-opening present.

The clothing starts to bunch at the middle of your thighs, and your arousal is halfway there to being exposed to Sevika. The scent is what hits her first; it makes her want to yank your pants down and give you what you want, but watching you do it so much better.

Once it reaches above your knees, she partially moves out of the way so she can help you remove them properly. While she tosses it elsewhere, you debate pinning your legs shut. 

Sevika looks back at you—your legs, actually—and you do flinch them closed. She tsks. “Don’t be stubborn. Not now.” She didn’t sound like she was insulting you, even though a small part of you wanted to be offended. 

You let out a shaky sigh and avoid her gaze, slowly parting your legs. Thighs slicked with arousal, folds glistened with the same, you’re undeniably soaked. You prepare yourself to look at Sevika’s shit-eating grin, but when you do, it’s nothing of the sort. Her eyes are low, shaded, and memorializing, and her bottom lip fully disappeared between her teeth. 

Then she grins; she even laughs, just as you expected. You groan, not at her, but at how wet you got from it. “I didn’t even do anything yet.” She teases, her eyes still locked on the ego-stroking mess she made of you. 

“Such a di—“ You cut yourself off to moan sharply. 

Sevika’s thumb came in contact with your swollen clit, the rough pad of her thumb making perfect circles; the rest of her fingers positioned in the patch of hair crowning above it.

“How fast do you think you’ll come? I’m thinking,” she pretends to, only to press her thumb over your clit. Filthy words flutter from your lips, and you instinctively grind into her touch. “Three minutes?” 

You look pissed between your bouts of pleasure; it molds together attractively. Sevika can’t wait to make it break, make you cry, and fuck the attitude out of you. “What? You should see how wet you are; you’d think I already fucked you.” 

She feels the way you twitch at her words, and it makes the pressure between her legs unbearable. She should just strip and grind her cunt into you, but she knows she won’t be able to stop there. Fuck her stupid life; she’s losing the plot. 

Her thick forefinger collects your slick as she paths towards your entrance. You twitch as she slides it in, making you gasp. She chuckles as your walls clench around her finger, and she starts pushing it in and out, painstakingly slow. 

It’s not enough, yet you can’t bring yourself to beg her for more. It’s at the tip of your tongue, but Sevika was right; you are stubborn. She reads you like a book, and she can read you now. She angles her finger in a way that brushes against your g-spot, but at the same mind-numbingly slow pace. 

Your body doesn’t know what to do; you can’t find friction anywhere; you can squeeze against her finger, but it doesn’t change her speed; all you can do is writhe in place. “You look like you need something,” she says, almost like it’s a thought in her head, so condescending, so fucking hot. Your pussy tenses around her finger for the millionth time, and you almost, almost, cry. “You’re gonna cut my finger off at this rate.” You tense again. She chuckles. 

“Sev—Sevika,” you bite your lip to hold down a sharp inhale, but it fails miserably. “Sevika, you’re not helping.”

 “Should I stop?” She asks with the tilt of her head. Her finger does stop regardless of the answer. 

Your hands reach out for her wrist, weakly clawing at it. “No! No, pl...” You mildly cringe at yourself, turning away. 

Sevika’s brows lifted. “What was that? Pl...?” She begins her pace again, and you realize you didn’t appreciate it enough before. “You said it once already; come on.” 

Your lips tremble, “Plea—se—?” She barely lets you finish the word before slipping another finger into your drooling cunt. Her pace increases, and you let go of her wrist as you succumb to pleasure. 

 Your arousal coating her fingers makes the most obscene noises; she wonders if the entire motel can hear it. You try to suppress your moans with your hand, but you can never do it right, not with the way she’s fucking you. Sevika’s glad you can’t; having one arm would’ve been even more inconvenient otherwise. She needs to hear you sob out her name at least once. “Please what?” She leans over you as she slams her fingers into you, pressing them against your wet, ridged, gummy walls.

“You’re— fuck, you’re pushing it,” you groan, and just like that, she slows down. But you’re weak, and you crumble. “Wait, wait, wait—please. Please, fuck me... Fuck me to sleep.” You ramble loosely, back to scratching at her wrists again. There’s that smile you were thinking about earlier, the one she gets after a big win. She broke you, and she lost the plot ages ago. 

—

It’s been an hour, and you’re already on the brink of your third orgasm. Sevika folded and ended up, verbatim, stripping and grinding her cunt into yours. You should be asleep right now, but Sevika said you have enough time to catch up on it before the meeting. You hope that’s true, but you don’t care. You can’t get enough of her or her abs flexing with every desperate hump. 

So intent on getting her rocks off, practically using you for her own pleasure at this point—you already came twice now; any more is a bonus, just like the one building up right now. Your eyes are pressed shut, trying to envision your release so it comes quicker. “Just like that. Keep fucking me, please, Sev.” You beg through your teeth and quiet sniffles. Sevika’s fingers squeeze the meat of your thigh.

She murmurs, “You,” her movements get sloppier; you can tell she’s close, “feel so fucking good.” Now you’re close—no, you come at her praise. 

You’re shaking, grabbing at the sheets that have since slid off the mattress. You forgot how to breathe; all you can feel is your orgasm coursing through you. Your mind is turning fuzzy, and even fuzzier with Sevika still grinding into you. Your moans are pitchy and pornographic; you’re making sounds you didn’t even think happened in real life. “Sevika...” You sob out from overstimulation, tears threatening to fall from your eyes.

She loves it. “Shit…” Sevika moans, followed by several more curses as she shudders out her orgasm. Her vision goes blurry for a second from how hard she came. She tries to control her labored breathing as she comes to, breathlessly calling your name. 

When she focuses in on you, you’re passed out, fucked out, and peaceful. Sevika’s pupils dilate at the markings she left on your neck, then to your lips, which she’s yet to have the chance to kiss. She lets the sleep weighing on her win and carefully collapses beside you. 

>

[rafesangelita]

♡ after receiving sex dice as a gag gift from your girlfriends, courtesy of your early galentine’s day party, you decide to bring them into the bedroom and rafe is surprisingly on board..

warnings: sex dice lol, established relationship, flirty banter, laughing during sex, oral sex (m. & f. receiving), unprotected sex, so many descriptions of positions please bare with me, slight degradation, praise, rafe’s d game is a1 (!!!), marathon sex (?), overstimulation, crying, squirting, multiple orgasms, cream pie

a/n: now presenting… ‘ROLL THE DICE!’ 🤍 i felt like i was at war while trying to explain these positions in clear detail lol, just know i tried my best!

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 2.4k

rafe had been eyeing the pink gift bag you brought back from your best friend’s house, his curiosity only growing when you refused to let him see what was inside. “just let me see! what is it? girl stuff?” you laughed, taking the bag in your hands. “you could say that..” your teasing tone was torturing him, the anticipation making rafe groan. “come on!” he finally reached for the bag, snatching it at the same time you pulled, making everything in the flimsy gift bag fall onto your bed. “well, that’s great..” you whispered, watching as your boyfriend inspected the contents.

“pink condoms.. we don’t use those. chocolates, a face mask, a sephora gift card, some earrings, and.. hey, what’s in this red pouch?” your cheeks heated as he pulled on the drawstring, two pink dice falling into his hand. “oh.. babe, this is sex dice!” he laughed, glancing up at you incredulously as you hid your face in your hands. “it’s just a silly little gag gift, nothing more.” you waved it off, taking a seat next to him on your shared bed. you’d be lying if you said you didn’t think it’d be fun to try out, but knowing rafe, you knew he wasn’t really one for games.

he studied them, flipping the many facets of the dice. “..i don’t know, they have some pretty good positions on here,” he shrugged, “what do you think?” your eyes shot up to meet his, a pang of excitement lighting up in your tummy. “r-really?!” you smiled, your boyfriend pulling you on top of his lap before he nodded. “yeah, look in that pouch for what the number dice means.” you obliged, taking the small folded up piece of paper that was the instructions. “oh, wow.. the number dice determines how many rounds we go.” rafe looked down at the small thing and laughed.

“it goes up to twelve,” your eyes widened as he handed you the acrylic piece, “go ahead and roll it.” you rolled onto your side, tossing the dice for both of you. “three.” rafe was starting to get excited now, his lips trailing along your neck as he gave you the dice with the positions on it. you two were easily doing more than that amount regularly. you giggled when his breath tickled your skin, your head moving to the side to allow him more access. rafe palmed you through your top, a moan leaving your lips as he ran his tongue along your flesh.

“roll the dice before i decide the positions for us.” he groaned, pressing a kiss to your jaw. sighing, you did as he said, reading the positions out loud for him. “the first one is..” you trailed off, “sixty-nine.” you laughed. rafe hummed approvingly, moving his gaze down to the comforter where you tossed the dice again. “next one is.. butterfly?” rafe mumbled a ‘we’ll look that up in a second.’ before you announced the last one. “which leaves us to do.. full nelson.” rafe might as well have jumped up and cheered by the way he excitedly shook you by your shoulders. “full nelson?! fuck, yeah!”

deciding it would be best to go in order of the dice, you and rafe found yourselves settling into your sheets, both of your clothes long gone as you turned your back to him, swinging a leg over his torso. rafe was shameless in staring at your glistening cunt, the sight of your wet folds making him take his bottom lip between teeth. “you’re so fucking pretty down here..” he marveled, taking the pads of his thumbs on both of your puffy lips before spreading them open, your needy clit revealing itself to him. you moaned, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock as he squeezed the globes of your ass.

you adjusted yourself a little bit so you were more comfortable, scooting up closer to rafe’s face as he groaned at the proximity. he was already hard just by looking at you up close like this. “can we start, baby? i need to taste you already.” you hummed sweetly, pressing a soft kiss to his tip. while you started off slow, rafe dove right in, wrapping his large arms around your thighs to keep you in place. you gasped when his tongue circled your sensitive bud, your hips bucking at the sudden intrusion. “that feels so good, rafe!” you whined, deciding to put your mouth to better use and finally wrap your lips around his aching length.

“fuck!” he cursed, his fingertips digging into your skin as your tongue worked him skillfully. you knew what drove rafe over the edge, you knew what made him lose his breath and what made his chest feel like it was going to cave in. “ah, shit, you’re so good at that.” his eyes threatened to roll to the back of his head when he felt himself hit the back of your throat. rafe landed a harsh smack to your ass, the stinging sensation making you whimper. swallowing around his cock, you waited until you had tears running down your cheeks before pulling off of him with a sharp intake for air.

rafe could just imagine how much of a mess you looked like right now. swollen lips, watery eyes, spit and precum dribbling down your chin.. fuck he was tempted to drag you back up just to admire your pretty face. “you’re driving me crazy.” he huffed out, sucking your clit into his mouth where his teeth very slightly grazed the sensitive bundle of nerves. “please don’t stop!” rafe had no intentions of doing so, your boyfriend’s bruising grip on your thighs making you unable to move away from him. rafe knew you were close to cumming whenever you tried to run away from it.

swirling your tongue around his throbbing head, rafe felt the familiar tension start to build up in the pit of his stomach. he continued lapping at your sweetness until you started bobbing your head up and down his length, basically fucking your face with his cock. the wet sounds mixed with your moans was about to make rafe paint your face, but he decided against it last minute. “stopstopstopstopstop,” he pinched your side, “wanna’ save my cum for when i fill up this perfect cunt.” despite wanting to make him finish anyways, you did as he said, mumbling a ‘okay, ray..’

in almost no time, your thighs were trembling around his head, your nails raking down his skin as waves of pure euphoria washed over you, your orgasm hitting you deep in your tummy. with the side of your face resting on his thigh, you whined helplessly as your hips moved on their own accord, your hand still languidly stroking his length. you were begging him at this point for him to slow down the work on your poor overstimulated clit, your pleas going through one ear and straight out the other. “please, no more— i can’t do it!” you shrieked. rafe’s chest filled with pride knowing you were most likely ‘fucked out’ already without actually getting fucked yet.

you were struggling to move as rafe didn’t slow down his movements on your clit, another rubber band in your tummy snapping as he made you cum again, back to back. you laid there, completely at his mercy as you convulsed in his arms, your mouth open in a silent moan while your eyes rolled to the back of your head. you felt like you had transcended into another dimension, your body simply floating away somewhere else. it wasn’t until you let out a choked sob that rafe gave you a final lick, his face shining with your succulence as he massaged your skin to bring you down from your high.

how, how were you supposed to go two more rounds after that? while you were laying there, your limbs feeling like jelly, rafe was googling the butterfly position and smirking to himself as he pulled up the visual. you had something else coming if you thought you were done for right now. rafe on the other hand was just getting started. gently rolling you over, rafe stood at the edge of your bed before yanking your ankles and securing your legs to his shoulders. you moaned when you felt his heavy cock sitting between your folds, your eyes meeting his as he pressed kisses to your ankles.

“you good?” he rested his hands in the crease where your thighs and your hips met, rubbing soothing circles there until you giggled softly. “not really..” rafe smiled, threading his fingers through yours. “tell me when you want to stop, baby, it’s all you.” you nodded, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt him teasing your clit with his tip. you loved how attentive rafe was. not only towards your wellbeing, but to the little things that made you whimper and squirm. “son of a bitch..” he cursed, slowly sliding into you with ease. your back arched off of the soft sheets, your eyebrows knitting together as he filled you to the hilt.

“fuck!” no matter how many times you and rafe had each other like this, the feeling of him filling you up and your velvety walls welcoming him in was unlike any other. rafe pulled out before thrusting back in with full force, his head rolling to the side as you cried out. you kept your eyes trained on his face, occasionally stealing glances at his toned stomach and biceps. he was truly a sight to see. your tits bounced with every thrust, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as his lower abdomen smacked the back of your thighs. “you’re doing so good for me,” he praised, “always so fuckin’ perfect.”

rafe picked up his pace, the force of his thrusts pushing you further up the bed until he had to pull you down to the edge again. you moaned as his cock continuously nudged that sweet spot inside of you, your legs now shaking around his head while he managed to get his fingers on your clit again. you were still so sensitive from your last orgasm, you couldn’t help but jolt at the hard circles being rubbed on your sensitive bud once again. rafe was so close, but he wanted to hold off from cumming for as long as possible, preferring to make you finish around him first instead.

“i can’t!” you gasped, “it hurts, rafe.” as soon as you said those words, he stopped. “yeah? it’s too much for you?” you nodded, your thighs shutting around his hand in response. he leaned down, keeping your legs on his shoulders as he kissed you sloppily. “would it make you feel better if we stopped?” you laughed, stroking the underside of his jaw with your finger. “do you hear me tapping out?” you shot back, “let’s try full nelson.” rafe has been waiting for this moment for a reallyyyy long time. the only reason why you two never got to it and made it a point to try it was unknown to him, but thank goodness for sex dice, right?

you didn’t have to tell him twice. he was already pulling you on top of him as soon as he got the okay. “i can’t believe this is happening.” you smiled as you lifted your legs, rafe wasting no time in bringing his arms up and over until his hands rested on the back of your neck, securing your thighs to your shoulders. your eyes widened slightly as you realized just how exposed and compromising this position was. your cunt was on full display, your folds threatening to open on their own as your head was forced to be faced down. “you alright?” rafe grunted, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

“uh huh..” you sounded uneasy, a laugh falling from rafe’s lips as he adjusted himself to prod at your entrance. “don’t worry, i got you.” was the last thing he said before you watched him enter you agonizingly slow. your lips parted at the sight. rafe kept going until he bottomed out, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. you swear you’ve never felt him this deep before, it was almost like he was in your tummy. “oh my god..” you whimpered, your eyes watering at how full you were. rafe was fighting every urge not to spill into you, his eyes screwing shut as he began a steady pace.

“shit, you’re wrapped around me so fuckin’ tight, m’not gonna last.” he said through gritted teeth. you were hiccuping and panting as he thrusted into you from below, the lewd sounds of skin meeting skin bouncing off of your bedroom walls. rafe angled his hips in a way that made you shriek, a knowing smile making its way to his lips as you now had tears streaming down your face. “i bet you look like a fucking mess right now.” he cursed, using one of his hands to snake down your side before giving your clit a small pinch. your head shot back while you looked up at the ceiling helplessly.

“r-rafe..” you were barely able to get his name out, your hands flying to hold onto his arm. you felt an unfamiliar pressure building up in the pit of your stomach as he continued rubbing your poor bud into your second orgasm of the night. “let it go go for me, ‘pretty, let me feel it.” you couldn’t even shut your thighs because of his strength forcing them open, a shaky breath emitting from your throat as your high ripped right through you, rendering you speechless almost immediately. rafe made sure to watch you intently, the sight of you unraveling making him follow suit.

it wasn’t until you felt a stream of wetness flow between your thighs that your eyes shot open in surprise. “did i just—” rafe let go of the grip he had on your neck and instead forced you to look up at him while he finally painted your walls with his seed. he was so turned on right now he couldn’t even think straight. rafe kissed you as his movements came to a stop, your thighs still trembling in his arms while he pulled out. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, both of you feeling absolutely spent. “i think i made a mess.” rafe laughed softly, nodding his head. “yeah? that makes two of us then.”

[ivyues]

Laptop Delivery - Bang Chan

Practice got a little more eventful thanks to an forgotten laptop.

It was a peaceful morning. Fresh from your shower, you padded into your kitchen, planning to grab a quick breakfast before heading to uni. But something on the counter stopped you in your tracks – Chris' laptop.  

Your heart sank. He’d stayed over last night but had to leave early for dance practice. The sight of his laptop sitting on the counter screamed trouble. Normally, he wouldn’t bring it over – it was too precious, filled with tracks, demos, and other vital material for the group. You knew his schedule was packed, and forgetting something this important could only mean bad news.

You snapped a picture of it and sent it to him with the caption:

"Forgot something?"

Still, you couldn’t shake the thought that it might be much more important. Without hesitation, you called him, even though you knew he was at practice.  

After a few rings, he picked up, slightly breathless. "Hey, baby. I’m… kinda at practice right now – what’s up?"  

"Did you leave your laptop here on purpose?" you asked, though you already knew the answer.  

"What?" His voice was sharp with confusion. "No, I thought I— wait, let me check the picture you send me."  

A muffled curse followed as realization hit. "Oh shit, no. I’ve got a meeting with some producers right after practice. I can’t believe I left it there." His tone was laced with stress.  

Chris hesitated. "I—" he started, then stopped himself. You could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He was probably considering rushing back to your place after practice, which would make him late for the meeting. Worse, you wouldn’t even be there to open the door since you'd already be at uni by then.

"I… could… bring it to you," you offered cautiously, knowing what value the device had to the group.  

"Really? Would that be possible?" His voice softened, a mixture of relief and guilt.  

"Yeah, but I’d have to leave now. I still have uni today," you said, already moving to grab your things.  

"Ah, that's amazing. You're an angel," he said warmly. "I’ll text you the room number."  

Skipping breakfast, you grabbed his laptop and headed out. On the way, you planned to stop by a bakery for something quick after the delivery, before heading straight to class.  

-----

At the JYP building, you knocked lightly on the practice room door, despite Chris’ text saying you could walk right in. The door opened to reveal Felix, his face lighting up with a grin.  

"Hey!" he greeted, pulling you into a quick hug.  

"Hi, Lix," you replied with a small smile. From across the room, Chris’ head shot up, his eyes locking on you. Relief and affection softened his expression as he quickly made his way towards you.  

"Hey," he murmured, stopping just in front of you.  

"Hi," you replied, reaching into your bag to pull out his laptop. As soon as the sleek silver device emerged, the room fell silent.  

The members froze, eyes wide. It wasn’t just a laptop to them; they knew what was inside – tracks, demos, lyrics, everything. The fact that you were holding it was proof of something bigger: the trust Chris had in you.

But before anyone could speak, Chris gently pulled you into the room, his fingers brushing your cheeks as he softly pulled your mask down.  

And then, he kissed you.  

It was natural, familia – something the two of you had done countless times before. But here, in the quiet practice room, with – unbeknownst to you – all eyes on you, it felt different. His lips were warm and soft, a silent expression of gratitude and love.  

The members didn’t move, still processing what they were seeing. None of them had expected this. Sure, they knew how much Chris cared about you, but seeing it displayed so openly caught them off guard.  

When he finally pulled back, his ears burned red, and he muttered a sheepish "I’ll call you later, okay? Thanks again", as he took the laptop from your hands.  

You, cheeks blazing, barely managed a nod as you stepped back. The silence lingered for a beat longer before you mumbled, "Y-yeah. Bye, everyone."

You turned and left, closing the door behind you.  

The moment the door clicked shut, chaos erupted.  

"YAH, HYUNG!"  

"I can't believe you just did that!"

"PDA MUCH?!”

"Channie hyung, what was that?!"

"Wow, so smooth. Too bad your ears give you away."  

Outside, you heard the screaming teasing very clearly and couldn’t help but smile, your cheeks still burning as you walked down the hallway. Chris could handle the teasing – he brought it upon himself after all.  

masterlist

[chrisissobabygirl]

☆ pepsi-flavored lips - c.s

c/w: fluff, kissing, swearing, i think that's it??

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

you hadn't thought much of it when you picked up the pepsi-flavored chapstick from the nearby store, taking it like an impulse buy—something silly to throw into your bag at the checkout. sure, it was cheap and a little kitschy, but it reminded you of chris. hell, he practically had pepsi running through his veins at that point.

and it had to be the best purchase you had ever made because chris was fucking obsessed.

it started with an unassuming kiss—a quick, fleeting one as he flopped down next to you on the couch of your shared house with him and his brothers, nestling his arm around you.

"hey," he said, leaning in to press his lips against yours like a habit before pulling back, turning his attention to the rom-com you were watching, subconsciously rubbing small circles on your shoulder.

his movements halted, his brows furrowing. you glanced at him, anticipating an explanation. he turned to face you, his tongue darting out to swipe across his lips. "wait. what the hell?"

you glanced at him. "what?" you asked, fegning innocence. "i thought i finished the last can 'f pepsi, kid." chris narrowed his eyes at you, a sly grin slowly forming on his face.

"you did, chris." you replied, amused at his reaction. "then why'd ya' taste like pepsi, ma?" he asked, piecing the information together.

"i really have no idea, ch-" you were cut off by his lips brushing against yours again—for longer this time. he pulled back, his eyes alight with joy like a kid in a toy store. "you fuckin' liar."

your laughter was immediate, bubbling out of you in surprise. you reached into your pocket, and fished out the small tube of chapstick. "it's chapstick, christopher. pepsi-flavored. see? it's really not that deep. i'm not stealing your pepsi, dude."

your boyfriend snatched the chapstick out of your hands, squinting his eyes to read the small label out loud, grinning from ear to ear. "why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"

"baby, it's just-" before you could complete your sentence, he lunged at you, attacking your lips with his soft ones. "you taste like pepsi," he muttered against your lips, his voice filled with awe.

you pulled away, giggling. "i think that's the point, chris." you pushed his hair out of his face. "best fuckin' purchase ever, ma," he let the chapstick fall onto the sofa and leaned in once more.

you laughed as he caged you against the couch cushions. his hands found your waist as he pressed his lips to yours again, this time slow and deliberate, savoring the flavor like he was tasting the cola from the can itself.

"you're insane," you mumbled, the grin tugging at your lips giving you away. "and you're delicious. you're wearin' this forever, y' know that, right?" he shot back, not missing a beat. "fuck, i'm buying this for you in bulk, kid."

shaking your head at his playful words, you couldn’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. a rush of affection overtook you, and without thinking, you grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him in for another kiss, hard and unapologetic.

"fuckin' pepsi-flavored lips."

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

a/n: him accusing reader of stealing his pepsi is CRAZY work

wc: 532

[rafedarling]

Rustyn goes through a phase where he is very clingy towards the reader and wants to hug and kiss his mother all the time and whenever Drew approaches or kisses the reader, Rustyn becomes irritable because his mother is only for him ,sorry if he gets too involved English is not my first language

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐚, 𝐧𝐨

pairing: dad!drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew loves teasing his little buddy especially now that rustyn has entered a clingy phase. he insists on being the sole recipient of your affection, becoming hilariously territorial whenever drew so much as gives you a kiss.

warning(s): fluff, teasing banter, a possessive toddler, mild suggestive humor between parents, and lots of adorable family dynamics.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe

Rustyn just woke up from his nap as you sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Rustyn in your arms. At two years old, your son was growing fast, but right now, he seemed small and vulnerable as he snuggled against you, freshly awake from his nap. His tiny arms wrapped securely around your neck, and his head rested on your chest, soaking in your warmth.

“You have a good nap, sweetheart?” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Rustyn nodded sleepily, his body still heavy with the haze of sleep. He hummed contentedly, nestling even closer.

From across the room, Drew’s familiar voice broke the peace.

“Baby,” he called, his tone laced with affection.

You looked up to find your husband leaning casually against the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling as they met yours. He wore his usual easy grin, the kind that made your heart flutter even after all these how many years.

“Hmm?” you replied, your lips curling into a smile.

Drew crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly.

Before you could reciprocate, however, a firm “No!” interrupted the moment.

You pulled back slightly, startled, and glanced down to see Rustyn glaring up at Drew. His tiny hand shot up, attempting to push Drew away from you.

“Excuse me?” Drew asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He crouched down to Rustyn’s level, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t kiss Mommy?”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, his blue eyes narrowing in determination.

“Mommy’s mine,” he declared, his voice firm despite its high-pitched sweetness.

Drew chuckled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, really? Well, fyi ‘for your information’, little man, Mommy was my woman first. Before you even existed.”

Rustyn’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout, his small arms tightening possessively around your neck.

“No. Mommy’s mine,” he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You stifled a laugh, brushing a hand over Rustyn’s curls.

“Drew, stop teasing him. He just woke up.”

“But it’s so easy,” Drew said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your temple.

Rustyn immediately reacted, a whiny “No!” escaping him as he pushed at Drew’s shoulder with all his might.

“Alright, alright,” Drew said, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

“I’ll back off for now.”

Rustyn gave him a triumphant look, his little chest puffed out as he settled back against you.

You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“You know you’re just making it worse, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“But come on, look at him. He’s like a tiny bodyguard.”

Rustyn’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Drew, as though ensuring he wouldn’t try anything again.

Drew leaned closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You think he’s gonna start charging me a toll just to kiss my own wife?”

You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb Rustyn.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been attached to me like glue all week.”

“Bathroom glue?” Drew asked, raising an eyebrow.

You groaned.

“Yes, even bathroom glue.”

Drew whistled, shaking his head.

“Man, he’s really got me beat.”

The next morning, Drew woke up to the sound of giggles coming from the living room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and padded down the hallway, stopping in his tracks when he saw you and Rustyn sitting on the floor.

You were still in your pjs, your hair loosely tied back, as Rustyn sat in your lap, clumsily stacking blocks. He was giggling uncontrollably.

Drew leaned against the doorway, with a fond smile across his face.

“Well, don’t I feel left out?”

Rustyn’s laughter ceased abruptly as he looked up, his expression instantly turning wary.

“Good morning, you two,” Drew said, stepping into the room.

He crouched down beside you and reached out to ruffle Rustyn’s hair.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head to kiss Drew on the cheek.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t having it. He quickly turned to block Drew’s path, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Mine!” he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone much older than three.

Drew snorted. “Here we go… again.”

You tried to smooth things over, rubbing Rustyn’s back.

“Rustyn, sweetie, Dada’s just saying good morning.”

“No,” Rustyn said stubbornly, glaring at Drew.

“Wow, sassy” Drew said, sitting back on his heels.

“You really don’t want to share, huh?”

Rustyn shook his head firmly, burying his face in your shoulder.

You sighed, giving Drew an apologetic look.

“He’s in full cling mode right now. It’s a phase.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember this when he’s a teenager and wants nothing to do with either of us,” Drew said, though his tone was light.

Rustyn peeked out at Drew, his pout softening slightly.

“Mommy’s mine,” he whispered, as if reiterating his claim.

“Alright, alright, she’s all yours” Drew said, holding up his hands.

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Drew shook his head, chuckling.

“You know, for someone so small, he’s got a lot of attitude.”

“Wonder where he gets it from,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Drew.

Drew smirked. “Definitely you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. Moments like this were your favorite.

By the afternoon, Drew decided it was time to reclaim some territory. While Rustyn was busy playing with his toy cars, Drew sidled up to you in the kitchen.

You were chopping vegetables for lunch when he slipped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Hi,” he murmured against your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, smiling as you leaned into him.

“You know,” Drew began, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I don’t think Rustyn’s watching right now.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“Drew,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real conviction.

“What? Can’t a husband show his wife some affection?” he asked innocently.

Before you could respond, the sound of tiny feet padding into the kitchen reached your ears.

Rustyn appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Drew holding you.

“No!”

Drew sighed dramatically, releasing you and turning to face Rustyn. “Really? I can’t even hug Mommy now?”

Rustyn marched over, his little fists balled up at his sides.

“No, Dada! Mommy’s mine!”

Drew knelt down to his son’s level, shaking his head.

“You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

Rustyn crossed his arms, his pout deepening.

“Mommy loves me more.”

Drew gasped, clutching his chest as though Rustyn’s words had physically wounded him.

“Oh, that’s cold, buddy. Real cold.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You walked right into that one.”

Drew looked up at you, his expression mock-wounded.

“You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I’m just enjoying the show,” you teased.

Rustyn, now satisfied that Drew had been properly put in his place, turned back to you and raised his arms. “Mama up, pleaze.”

You obliged, scooping him up and resting him on your hip.

Drew shook his head as he stood. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Rusty.”

Rustyn stuck his tongue out at Drew, prompting you to scold him gently. “Rustyn, be nice to Dada.”

“Yeah, listen to Mommy,” Drew said, grinning.

Rustyn huffed but leaned his head against your shoulder, clearly unwilling to share you anytime soon.

Drew stepped closer, placing a hand on your back.

“One day, buddy, you’re gonna regret pushing me away. You’ll want my advice on girls, sports, life…and I might just remind you of this moment.”

Rustyn didn’t respond, already drifting off into another nap.

You smiled at Drew, your heart full. “You know he loves you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Drew said, his grin softening into a tender smile.

“But right now, he’s a mommy’s boy so...”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added knowingly.

Drew nodded, wrapping an arm around you both.

“Not for a second.”

[jaeyunnz]

"Work Break Seduction."

ni-ki + f¡reader — ♡ 18+

WARNINGS — dom!ni-ki, sub¡reader, dirty talk, making out, cussing, rough sex, riki eats out reader, unprotected sex (stay safe dont do it.) pet names.

both characters are of age. (20+) not proofread, sorry if theres any errors. this is quite long but worth the read i promise!

Reader recently went into a new college and grew a school crush on Riki. Though he plays hard to get, your able to break his nonchalant demeanour.

Note : Riki was mostly requested, so enjoy. (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶)

Your parents recently moved to a different town, which meant transferring to a new college. It wasn’t as bad as you expected, though you didn’t really know anyone there—but that was fine. At least your childhood friend, Jess, was with you.

A few weeks passed, and you found yourself constantly drawn to a boy—Riki. Girls flocked to him, yet he always brushed them off or rejected their advances. No one seemed to know much about him. He was distant, only ever seen around small groups. But that only made him more intriguing. The mystery surrounding him pulled you in, making you want to learn more about him.

The problem? He avoided everyone—including you. The only times you ever spoke were during school projects, and even then, the conversations were brief or short talk.

This morning, once again, you found yourself paired with Riki. It didn’t bother you as much, but you could tell he wasn’t thrilled about the idea. “Alright, your partners have been chosen. Get to work, project’s due in two days,” the teacher announced. You scanned the room for Riki, and then your eyes landed on him. He was leaning back in his chair, his posture casual and almost lazy. You knew you had to make the first move and approach him, or he’d likely ignore you the entire time.

You hated that you always had to be the one to approach him—it made you feel almost desperate. Yet, here you were, getting up and walking toward him. He watched as you pulled out your chair and sat down beside him. “Hi,” you said, glancing at him for a brief moment. He responded with a small nod, his usual way of acknowledging you.

You settle into the seat, trying to ignore the awkwardness that always seemed to hang between you two. The silence stretched for a moment, neither of you making any effort to start the project. You glance at him, but he’s already looking at his phone, clearly disinterested. Then, you let out a soft sigh, wishing he’d at least pretend to care. Finally deciding to break the silence. “So, uh… how do you want to split this up?” you ask, trying to sound casual.

He shrugs without looking up. “You can do whatever,” he mutters. You bite back a small frustration. Damn, you knew he wasn’t one for much conversation, but it always felt like pulling teeth to get him to participate. Yet, there was something about his indifference that kept you intrigued, even if it was maddening. “I guess I’ll start with the research,” you say, hoping for a bit more input. He doesn’t respond, but you take that as your cue to begin.

The next hour passes in relative silence, except for the occasional rustling of papers and the tapping of his phone. You focus on your work, trying not to pay attention to how he barely acknowledges your presence. Though you’re starting to get irritated by how you’re doing all the work while he’s just sitting there—eyes glued to his phone, doing nothing at all, you can’t bring yourself to get truly mad. Not when he looks this… handsome.

Should you try to start another conversation, hoping he might actually respond? You really wanted to get to know him better, maybe even get him to show a little interest in you, too. Fuck it, might as well, you really like him. "Prom is coming soon, you going out with anyone?" Thats the first thing that came to mind, it was a bit personal, but your curious. Maybe you can shoot your shot?

He finally lifts his head up from his phone, placing it on the desk and locks eyecontact with you. "Nah. Not interested in that typa stuff." For the first time, he actually seemed engaged, and it left you a little thrown off balance. "Why not?" You say, he gives you a shrug. "Why are you asking anyway?" He raises an eyebrow, your slightly taken by surprise when he asks, trying to make yourself sound less interested. "I'm just trying to conversate with you, I mean your quiet as fuck."

He lets out a deep, small chuckle that sounds rich, causing you to snap your eyes at him. Shit, he's really talking to you? "Yeah, well you could've asked me anything," he taps the desk with his fingertips, "But that was apparently the first thing that came to mind?" He rests his arm over the head of the chair, scanning your body for a moment which causes a small faint redness appear on your cheeks. "A bit bold of you, I'll give you credit for that."

You slightly roll your eyes, "How was that bold? I simply asked if you had a prom date or not." He finally sits up straight in his seat, running his hand through his short black hair which catches your attention. "Really?" He chuckles a bit, looking around the classroom.

You raise your eyebrow in slight confusion before he meets your gaze again, "C'mon now. You don't think i've noticed you staring at me?" Your eyes widen, he leans in closer and suddenly your heart starts to pound unbelievably fast. "Every single time we have a class together, I see you." his cold fingertips trails up your thigh, "Your into me? Aren't you? I mean thats why you asked me such a question." Your body freezes, shivers running down your spine.

How the fuck did he know?

"Thats not..." unable to finish your sentence with his hand making contact with your thigh. "Not true?" He says, his hands creeping down to pull your chair closer to him, the both of your knees brushing against eachother. His eyes dart down to your lips, a teasing smirk appearing on his face. Before you can say anything, the bell rings, interrupting the intense moment.

"We can uhm... finish this project later?" He leans back against his chair, acting totally careless about what just happened between you two. "Meet me at lunch." Is all he says before leaving the room. You know your face is beet red, but you dont even wanna see how you look right now. So then you start putting away the paper work into your bag, packing your stuff as he leaves the room, not looking back at you once. For a moment you just stand in the now empty class with a blank mind, trying to process everything that happened.

At lunch, you find yourself sitting at a table in the far corner of the cafeteria, just as he asked. Your heart races a little, unsure of what to expect. You glance around, half-expecting him to bail, but then you spot him walking toward you, looking as casual as ever.

"Hey," Riki says, sliding into the seat across from you. His eyes briefly meet yours before he looks down at the table. "Hi," you reply, trying to sound casual even though your nerves are on edge. There’s a moment of silence between you two, the kind that always seemed to stretch on forever. You want to fill it with something, but words feel like they’re just out of reach.

Finally, he speaks again. "So, what’s your deal?" You blink, caught off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugs, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a split second before looking away again. "Like, why are you always tryna talk to me. You barely know me." His bluntness takes you by surprise, but somehow it doesn’t feel as cold as you thought it would. It’s almost… honest.

You take a deep breath. "I don’t know. You’re just different, you know? It’s hard to ignore." He raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "I'll take that as a compliment I guess."

"I mean yeah, like you’re this whole mystery. I just want to figure you out." For a second, he looks like he’s about to say something, but instead, he leans back in his seat, his gaze lingering on you a little longer. You feel like he’s reading you, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s trying to figure you out too. Then, without warning, he leans forward, closing the space between you. His hand brushes against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body.

"Well," he says, voice low, "maybe you’ll find out soon." Before you can process what’s happening, his lips are on yours. It’s sudden, soft at first, but the intensity quickly builds, and everything else fades away. The warmth of his mouth against yours leaves you breathless, and for a moment, everything feels completely different, like this is where you’re supposed to be.

When he pulls away, you’re left dazed, trying to catch your breath. He looks at you, his expression unreadable, but there’s a hint of something—something you can’t quite place. "You okay?" he asks, his voice a little rough. You nod, still in shock, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah. I think I’m more than okay." You bite your lower lip slightly, blushing profusely.

You both sit there for a moment, the air thick with tension and a thousand unspoken words. Your heart is still racing, but now, it's not from nerves. It's from the overwhelming feeling that something has shifted between you two. He doesn't move away, instead, his eyes search yours, almost like he's waiting for something.

Your mind is swirling, but your body seems to take over, leaning in closer, lips barely brushing against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him, his presence pulling you in with a force you can't resist. Without thinking, you kiss him again— this time deeper, more urgent. His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently grazing the skin as he pulls you in, his other hand sliding to your waist. Your heart hammers in your chest as he kisses you back with a hunger you didn't expect.

It's nothing like the first kiss-this one is raw, a mix of desire and need. You feel his fingers trace the line of your jaw, his touch almost desperate, and it sends a rush of heat through you. Your hands instinctively find his shirt, tugging him closer, as if you can't get enough of him.

His lips move with yours, more demanding now, and you match his intensity, breathless and wanting more. You can't explain it, but everything about him feels right-how he holds you, how his lips mold against yours, like this was always meant to happen. His hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer, and you can feel the heat building between you two. The kiss deepens, and everything else disappears-there's only him, only this moment.

When Riki pulls away, both of you are panting, eyes locked, faces inches apart. "You sure about this?" he asks, his voice husky. You nod, trusting your voice.

You're sure. You want this. You want him.

Without saying another word, he tilts his head toward a washroom near by the cafeteria. Afterall you both can't do anything with people around, so that was the only option. You get up, your heart beating even faster as he follows behind you. He pushes you into one of the stalls, locking it behind you.

He slowly turns around, pushing your back against the wall and his lips are on yours again, and this time, it feels like the beginning of something that neither of you can pull away from. The kiss continues, deepening with each passing second. His hands move, exploring, pulling you closer as if he can't get enough of you either. The way he holds you makes everything else fade into the background-the noise of the cafeteria, the people walking by the washroom, it all feels distant and irrelevant.

You feel his breath against your lips, a slight tremor in his touch as his fingers trace the curve of your back. Your own hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the strands as you pull him in even closer, wanting more of him. You can taste the faint trace of mint on his breath, and it only makes you crave him more.

Riki slowly pulls away from the kiss, the both of you breathless. Finally his hand slides down your thigh, inching under your skirt. "Can I?" He grunts out as you nod at him almost instantly. "Starting to think you've wanted this for a while now," he chuckles, slipping his hands underneath your skirt and groping your ass, a small moan escaping your lips. "S-shut up will you?" He smirks, his lips trail down, leaving wet kisses down your neck. 

You press your lips tightly together, glaring at him playfully. You can't help but feel a surge of need. It's like you're both fighting the same battle, giving in to something that's been building up for weeks. Suddenly you find your hand guiding his further up your skirt.

Riki doesn't hesitate, immediately shoving your hand aside and tearing your panties apart with his hands. He gets down on his knees and buries his face between your legs, licking and sucking at your dripping folds without warning like a starved man. Your eyes roll back to the back of your head, looking down at him in slight surprise. "Fuck, you're so wet." He growls against your pussy, his fingers digging into your thighs.

He groans as he feels your fingers gripping his hair tighter, your delicious moans spurring him on. He alternates between long, teasing licks and quick flicks against your clit, savoring your sweet taste. His hands squeeze your ass, pulling you harder against his face. "F...fuck ah mmph.." Your back arches against the wall, clawing at it slightly as you try to keep quiet, not wanting anyone to hear.

He hooks his arms around your legs and throws them over his shoulders, opening you up even wider. He laps his tongue greedily around your clit, determined to make you come on his face before he allows himself to enter you. "Mmh." He groans against your pussy, your body shaking slightly from the vibration. "A-ah Riki..." The stall gets filled up with slurping sounds along with your quiet desperate moans.

He slightly pulls back, looking up at you with half closed eyes. Your breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your forehead. "Riki or daddy?" He licks his lower lip slightly, smirking a bit as he sees your widened eyes. "I..I am not calling you that weirdo." He tilts his head back, "Hey hey, it was just a suggestion."

"I'll think... about it." You whisper embarrassed, turning a light shade of red when he lets out a quiet chuckle. "Thats my good girl." Your legs slightly tremble at the name, butterflies forming in your stomach before he spreads your legs wider, feasting on your pussy like it's his last meal. He growls against your cunt when you reach down to grip his hair. Your about to reach your climax and he knows it.

"I-I'm gonna-" you whine out, the sound echoes around the empty washroom. Riki snaps his mouth against your clit, sucking hard. "Come on my face, baby." His tongue laps up your juices, going fast and hard against your sensitive nub. "Give it to me." His words are more than enough for you to reach your high, finding yourself cumming all over his face, your thighs shaking violently while you try your hardest not to scream from the pleasure.

He feels your body convulse with your climax. He spreads your legs wider, pushing them back almost painfully, allowing him deeper access. His tongue goes wild, licking and sucking every last bit of your juice. He growls softly against your pussy before pulling back, licking your release off his lips. You suck in a moan, looking down at him.

Riki's cock is aching against his jeans, begging to be free. "P-please." He hears your soft beg. He unbuckles his belt slowly, eyes darkening. "Do you want my dick?" His voice is deep, seeing you slowly nod your head. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion, freeing his throbbing cock. He strokes himself slowly, letting you admire his impressive size. A droplet of precum pearls at the tip as he grunts. You stare intently, gulping at his length, "You're..."

He steps forward, turning you around and lifting your ass up, rubbing the head against your sensitive entrance. "Yeah? Think you can take it?" His voice is thick with desire as he pushes the tip just slightly inside you, a loud gasp escaping your mouth. "So far for being quiet." Riki says teasingly as you glare up at him playfully, swallowing hard. "I-I'm trying my hardest," He chuckles while pushing in slightly more, filling you with just the tip. "Am I too big?" He grunts, your hands going up to grip his shoulders tightly.

"I-I can take it.." you whimper out. "You sure?" He feeds you another inch, making you wince slightly. He watches your face closely. "Tsk, you're only halfway there." He pulls back slightly then pushes in another inch, hitting a new spot inside you which causes your mouth to open wide. "You really can take my whole dick? Don't wanna hurt you." His voice drops lower.

You just nod, desperation taking over you. "Good girl." He praises darkly, then grips your hips tightly and slams his hips forward, impaling you completely on his massive length. For a second, your vision gets blurry, the pleasure overwhelming. "Fuck!" He roars as he bottoms out inside you, gripping on your hips tightly. You let out a loud straining moan before hearing someone walk into the washroom.

The both of you freeze, and Riki doesn't move inside you just yet. Your slightly panicking but he doesn't seem to care because he begins to grind his hips slowly, letting you feel every inch of him. Your mouth opens wide, but he quickly covers it with his hand, leaning down and whispers against your ear, "That pussy just swallowed every inch of my cock like such a good girl." His hands grip your thighs roughly, pulling you open wider. You swallow hard, whimpering against his palm. "Shh, don't wanna get caught do you?"

Finally that person seems to leave — and Riki's hand leaves your mouth. His thick shaft drags in and out of your tight, soaked pussy at a brutal pace. Each thrust makes you wince and whimper, your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He pounds into you relentlessly, the sound of his skin slapping against your ass filling the room. "F-fuck ah.. Riki-" You roll your eyes back, your mind becoming blank.

He can feel your gentle scratches against his back as he pounds into you, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Fuck, baby. This what you wanted? My dick destroying your insides?" You nod, opening your mouth to speak but words come out as moans instead. He pulls your hips further up to get deeper inside you. He leans forward, his mouth finding yours in a harsh, bruising kiss as he continues to rut into you.

He groans loudly into the kiss as he feels your pussy clench tightly around his throbbing shaft before breaking the kiss, panting heavily. "Shit, you're squeezing me so fucking tight." He adjusts his angle, deliberately targeting your G-spot with every powerful thrust.

Your trying to grip on the walls, but your fingers slip. "G-gonna cum..." His eyes darken with lust at your words, his thrusts becoming even more forceful. "Cum for me, baby. Milk my dick with that tight cunt." He reaches down and circles his thumb over your clit, applying pressure in time with his thrusts.

And with that, He feels your release bathe his length, making him groan loudly. Your pussy pulses around him tightly, almost painfully. He pumps into you erratically, losing his rhythm. He lowers his head and watches as your fluids coat his shaft, making it glide easily in and out of your body.

He pants heavily, finally unleashing his pent up load deep inside of your wet cunt. Your back arches against him as he does so, the both of you letting out loud moans from the feeling. Then he pulls out slowly, his cock glistening with your juices. "Fuck." He holds your waist and you tremble, putting your whole body weight on him since your struggling to stand.

The bathroom stall feels too small now, the air thick with the weight of what just happened. You’re both still breathing heavily, and there’s a quiet, almost uncomfortable stillness between you.

He leans back against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face as if trying to process everything. You do the same, your mind racing a little. It’s strange how quickly things shifted, how in the span of just a few minutes, everything between you changed. You glance over at him. He’s still looking at you, his eyes soft, his expression unreadable. For a moment, neither of you speaks. You’re both just sitting there in the aftermath, unsure of what to say next.

"So… that happened," you murmur, trying to break the silence. He lets out a small laugh, but it’s low, more to himself than anything. “Yeah. Guess it did.” His voice sounds different now, less guarded, but there’s still that underlying tension. You’re not sure if you’re relieved or nervous. A mix of both. "I didn’t expect it to happen like this, especially here." He looks around the cramped stall, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips. "Neither did I. But… it’s not the worst place, I guess."

You roll your eyes, half-smiling. “So… what now?” you ask, the question hanging in the air between you. He pauses, clearly thinking it over. Finally, he looks at you, his gaze steady. "I don’t know. But I don’t want it to be a one-time thing." You can’t help but smile, a warmth spreading through you. "Neither do I."

💘: thank you so much for all your support on my storiesss!! i didnt expect anyone to like them, so thank youu!!!🥹💕💕 ill get to the rest of the requests soon, im currently busy w school so itll take some time, thanks for your patience🫶

[etherealrin]

♡.ᐟ sanrio rings!

how proplayer!rin accidentally reveals his relationship with you to the public

warnings: none // wc: 929

note: my first post ever, hi LOL. ooc rin perhaps? female reader (reffered to as rin's gf)

rin forgets he even has the plastic ring on. so when he gets interviewed post-match and the cameraman zooms in on his right hand, which currently grips the microphone, he's a little confused.

"mr. itoshi!" the reporter exclaims, "what an odd choice of jewelry! and on the ring finger too, are you perhaps engaged?"

what? engaged? rin plasters a frown on his face, ready to go off at the woman.

"i have no idea what y-" rin begins, but cuts himself off. oh shit, he thinks. of course, on his ring finger sat the stupid little kuromi ring he had gotten with you in shibuya last week. his mind races back to the memory, and he groans internally.

"rin, please! let's get matching ones!" you squealed as you dragged him towards the staggering rows of gachapons deep inside the city's neon lit streets. the whole shop was filled to the brim with machine after machine, and one in particular had caught your eye. it was one containing comically large rings of sanrio character faces, ranging from cinamoroll to my melody to kuromi.

"fine, if that's really what you want to spend 400 yen on," he had sighed. he knew you would somehow rope him into wearing the diabolical little accesory.

"i really hope we get my melody and kuromi! y'know it's basically canon that they like each other, right?" you told him, laughing.

"i hope you know i'm not familiar with any of the sanrio lore," rin began. "but- if it's with you, it's not so bad…i guess." the last part was barely audible. you pushed him toward the white machine, with a little "you first!"

to his fortune (or now his misfortune, he figured) he did indeed manage to obtain the black kuromi ring you had wanted him to wear. his attention then shifted to you. you were crouched down over the machine, and, wait…why were you performing a summoning ritual? you had pulled up my melody pictures on your phone and waved it around like a mystic.

"you're silly," rin deadpanned.

"but it'll work, watch this!" you shot back. the tips of your finger grasped the small wheel of the gacha machine and you turned it slowly. an opaque pink ball dropped out of the prize slot. "i did it! see?" you said smugly, giving rin a pointed look. "now you have to put yours on, so we match!"

rin sighed, but he slipped the ring onto his finger, choosing the exact same placement you had done for youself. the right ring finger?

"hey- you do know what this means right?" he asked you, a faint rose tinting his cheeks.

you giggled. "it's a promise! we're now engaged under the laws of sanrio!"

"so? what's the news?" the reporter inquires again. rin snaps back to the present, having temporarily forgotten he was in a post-match interview and on nationwide live television. oh, you must be watching too, he realizes. itoshi rin could only come up with one explanation now: the truth.

"i got it with my girlfriend the other day, she wanted to match," he says with all air of nonchalance that he can muster.

"girlfriend? mr. itoshi, you're in a relationship?" the reporter almost drops her microphone out of shock. rin feels his cheeks heat up, and he wants to smack himself for blushing on live television at the mention of you.

"yes. i have been in one for quite a while now," rin starts. "and she's the sweetest, most stunning girl in the entire universe. now if you're done asking me about my private life, do you have anything for the real game? or are we done here?"

"o-oh, yes…" the reporter babbles on about something he had done in the match and rin wraps up the interview at light speed, wanting to leave and to see you immediately.

when rin finally knocks on the door to your third floor apartment (and notices the glittery sanrio stickers plastered onto it) you open it almost instantly, with a finger pointing at his face.

"i saw your interview," you say, dragging him into your living room where he promptly sprawls out on the sofa, hiding his face in his hands. "i can't believe you forgot to take it off, it's been three days!" you laugh. "but…it was cute. really, thank you. i know how hard it must have been to tell the whole world about us,"

"it was worth it, for you," rin says softly. he's a bit embarrased now. yet he's running his fingers through your silky hair now, twisting and turning it, his lilting touch teasing your exposed shoulder and making you giggle as if being tickled. you notice the kuromi ring, still sitting on his ring finger as if it was the most rightful place for it to belong. he grabs your own right hand, lining your fingers side by side with his, grinning a little at the pink my melody on yours.

"hmmm, i love you too, rin" you reply to the boy. he pulls you closer and inhales deeply, breathing in your nectarine-like sweet perfume.

"you should come to my game next week in my jersey," he mentions suddenly. "i mean there's no point in going through the agony of having lukewarm people online trying to guess who my girl is, i want everyone to know its you." you can't help but smile up at rin. his azure eyes shine with something fragile and genuine, love. you give him a soft, small kiss, and he sighs contentedly.

"i'd love to," you promise.

a/n: if you've made it this far i luv u, this is inspired by the sanrio rings i got with my friend haha

masterlist!

[onceinablueberrymoon]

made for this | husband!salesman x pregnant!reader

part 3 is up! scenario: pregnant!reader has a doctor’s appointment and wants to help husband!salesman by recruiting some new players at the clinic. the salesman has a different idea in mind… setting: a couple months after the events of season 1; sequel to this but can be read as a stand-alone fic warnings: pregnant!reader; a bit of spice and a lot of fluff; both reader and salesman feel morally superior to others; no use of y/n; second person POV word count: 931 notes: thank you all for the love on the first part! i hope i didn’t make the salesman too ooc, i try to keep things as accurate to the show as possible! but i think he is somewhat capable of having soft moments, although very rarely. i have at least one more idea for this series (if it can even be called that), so be on the lookout for that ٩>ᴗ<)و (also if anyone has any ideas for this ship, send them my way!) please enjoy! borders by @strangergraphics-archive

“Hey, can I borrow some business cards? I have an appointment at the clinic today and thought I’d pass some out.”

At your call, your husband walked into the bedroom to find you standing in front of the mirror next to your shared bed, adjusting your outfit for the day. He crossed his arms.

“I don’t think so. Any public involvement with the Games could endanger you,” his gaze lingered on your swollen stomach. He sighed, “You can’t defend yourself in your condition, no matter how much you think you can.” 

You just rolled your eyes and shot him a piercing look. 

“My pregnancy doesn’t impact my job, though. I can take care of myself just fine.” You took a couple steps towards him. “Who’s the one who befriended Gi-hun again? You?” You looked around the room before you pointed at yourself. 

“Me, that’s who,” you grinned proudly, only for your husband to cover his face with his hands, his patience clearly running thin.

“Besides,” you shrugged, “it’s not like I’ll be playing ddakji and smacking people. No, my dear husband, that’s your thing.” You brought a finger up to your lips. 

“I have my own ways to play.” You flashed a wicked smile towards your husband, causing him to shiver. 

Right there and then, you knew that you had won the battle.

…or so you thought.

In the blink of an eye, your husband swept you off your feet and pinned you on the bed with only one arm. Your startled expression pleased him judging by the wild look on his face. His unoccupied hand came to gently press on your growing stomach, adding to the tense situation. He brought his lips up to graze your ear.

“See how vulnerable you are? Just think,” he lightly bit at your helix, “others won’t be so nice.”

It was your turn to shiver. 

When you didn’t respond, he continued nibbling at your ear with his hand still firmly planted on your belly.

Soon after, he lifted his head and asked, “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” He kissed you deeply, only breaking away to gasp for air. The most smug expression was plastered on his face. 

“Oh wait, I do.”

How cheeky of him. And cheesy, too! 

You huffed, “Wow, already starting with the dad jokes? And not even the good ones either.” His eyebrow quirked upwards before he bent down to press his nose against yours.

“Do you really want to play this game?” He whispered softly, causing you to shudder. “You know I always win.”

Turning your head to the right, you let out a small chuckle.

“Oh really?” You retorted, “Prove it.”

This sent him into a borderline frenzy as he started planting kisses down the side of your neck. You threw your arms around his neck, a smile on your face. Sometimes it was just too easy to manipulate him.

As he was about to leave a mark, a sharp movement stopped him in his tracks. He blinked, snapping out of his trance. You were both confused when there was another movement, although not as sharp as the first.

The two of you looked down at your rounded stomach, and your husband removed his hand. The baby’s kicks continued nearly every minute, while you both just watched, not moving a muscle. Then, your husband lifted himself up off of you, moving to sit on the bed beside you. You sat up and, taking one of his hands, gently laid it on your stomach. Your husband carefully wrapped an arm around you, now acting as if you were made of glass.

“They’re so active. Do you think,” he paused, then in a whisper, asked, “Do you think I hurt them?” 

“No… I think they’re just making themselves known,” you kissed him on the cheek. 

Both of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, only to soon realize that you were now running late for your appointment.

“Is there any chance I can still get those business cards?” You pleaded. 

Your husband chuckled, “Absolutely not. In fact, I’ll accompany you.” 

“I thought we weren’t allowed to be seen together in public?” You furrowed your eyebrows. 

He let go of you and turned to open his briefcase at the foot of the bed. Pulling out some files, he nodded, “There’s quite a few prospective players residing at that hospital. You attend your appointment, I’ll recruit more players.” He flashed his signature smirk, putting the files back in his briefcase.

“Wow, I thought you wanted to come to my appointment with me!” You laughed, giving him a light shove.

Your husband gave you a knowing look, “I can’t do that. But I expect a copy of the sonogram.” He stood up, holding out a hand for you to take.

“What a gentleman.” You took his offer and stood up.

Placing a hand on your husband’s chest, you teased, “Try to take it easy at the hospital, hm? Most of the prospects there are already on the verge of cracking. We don’t want to break them before the Games – it wouldn’t make for a good show.”

Wrapping his arms around your waist, your husband pouted, “But where’s the fun in that?”

“Giving them a tiny sliver of hope, only to eventually rip it away…” You looked him straight in the eyes. “The suspense is so thrilling, don’t you think?”

“And here I was starting to think you weren’t cut out for the job,” he chuckled. He checked his watch, noting the time.

“We should get going – it’s rude to be late.” 

a/n: by the way, i don’t think i have it in me to write full-on smut, the most i can probably do is a bit of lime lol

tags: @preppyfella

[goldsainz]

# DREW STARKEY — ACTORS ON ACTORS !

MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ drew and you participate in variety’s “actors on actors” series.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ cursing, talking about nude scenes, probably inaccurate acting experiences.

003. NOTE !

✯ sorry to all the actors i stole roles from😭 also zendaya is used as a face claim for the social media but the writing is inclusive and has no descriptors of physical appearance… or at least i hope so.

word count : 5,4k (chat i got carried away)

The cozy studio was bathed in warm light, designed almost as if to feel like a welcoming living room. Two plush chairs faced each other, separated by a low coffee table adorned with a few carefully placed books and a small vase of fresh flowers. Everything about the space was crafted to exude intimacy and warmth, inviting open conversation.

Drew Starkey entered the room first, his usual calm confidence mingled with a tinge of nervous energy. He smoothed his shirt absentmindedly and scanned the setup, trying to ground himself in the moment. He was used to being in front of cameras, but this felt different. This wasn’t just about promoting a project or answering rapid-fire questions on a press junket. This was you.

“Hello,” Drew started, a smile gracing his features as he took in the fact that he was sitting right in front of his number one celebrity crush. His hand hovered awkwardly in a small wave, as if he couldn’t believe this was real.

“Hi,” you said back, a giggle falling past your lips when you noticed his sheepish look. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” he said, his voice just a little higher than usual. Drew cleared his throat, laughing at himself, which made you laugh too. “Sorry, I’m… a little nervous.”

“Oh, don’t be,” you reassured him with a warm smile. “I promise, I don’t bite.”

“Good to know.” He chuckled, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great, thank you. What about you?”

“Pretty good, can’t complain.” A laugh bubbled out of him, and subsequently, you. The way he rubbed the back of his neck made you think he was still pinching himself that this was happening.

The cameras rolled, capturing the easy charm and immediate chemistry between the two of you. 

Drew’s grin widened as he began. “First of all, let me just say—I’m completely starstruck right now. I mean, the way you completely own every role you take on... it’s incredible.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, a bashful laugh escaping as you waved off the compliment. “Oh, stop it. You’re making me blush!”

“I’m serious,” he pressed, leaning forward slightly. “You’re like… the blueprint. If I ever get even halfway to where you are, I’ll consider myself lucky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” you said, your voice teasing but your cheeks undeniably warm. “But thank you, that’s so sweet. And honestly, you’re being way too hard on yourself. You’re incredible in Queer. You’ve got this natural charm that just lights up the screen.”

“Natural charm, huh?” He smirked, pretending to preen, which made you laugh again. “I’ll take that.”

“Good,” you replied, smiling. “You should, because it’s true.”

Drew’s gaze softened, the teasing giving way to something more earnest. “That means a lot, really. Especially coming from you. You’re like… Hollywood royalty to many.”

You tilted your head, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “To many, huh? And are you part of this many?”

Drew’s eyes widened, and he laughed, a little caught off guard. “Oh, absolutely. I’ve got a lifetime membership to the fan club.”

“Good to know,” you teased, crossing your legs and leaning back in your chair with an air of mock superiority. “I’ll have to start charging you membership fees.”

“Totally worth it,” he shot back, his grin widening.

“Well, thank you,” you said with a soft laugh, “So, we’ve both got some things in common, which I think is pretty cool.”

“Like working with Daniel Craig?” he asked.

“Yes! Honestly, I still reminisce about our time on set… he’s genuinely incredible, isn’t he?”

“He is, yeah. I found myself just admiring him and sort of forgetting I had to act too. He’s just… he’s on another level, for sure.”

“Daniel’s a master of his craft… Most of my scenes as Paloma in No Time To Die were with him, and at first I was so nervous because, like, what if I messed up in front of the Daniel Craig?” Drew let out a laugh at your words, and you couldn’t help but laugh too. “But when he noticed I was nervous he reassured me that it was all good. He’s just the best.”

“You’ve worked with so many high-profile actors.” You nod slightly at his words, as if it were the most common thing in the world. “Are you always nervous when meeting them, or was it just a Daniel thing?”

“It wasn’t just Daniel, no, but I think it depends. For example, when I did Oppenheimer with Cillian Murphy, for some reason I felt more relaxed… even though I had some nude scenes with him.”

“Nude scenes just make you connect, don’t they?” he joked, leaning back with a sly grin.

“They do, actually,” you replied, leaning into the banter. “You’d think they’d be worse, but honestly, with the amount of seriousness and concentration they take, it’s like you don’t have time to be nervous.”

“You clearly pulled it off flawlessly,” Drew said with mock solemnity. 

“You did too in Queer.” You compliment him, “I watched it a few days ago, and the chemistry you had with Daniel was just off the charts.”

Drew’s face lit up, a mix of pride and bashfulness crossing his features. “Daniel’s an amazing scene partner. He really made it easy for me to tap into everything.”

“Well, it shows,” you said. “It was such a raw and beautiful performance. I might’ve shed a tear or two.”

“Okay, now you’re just trying to make me blush,” Drew teased, pointing at you with a playful squint. “But seriously, that means a lot coming from you.”

“Hey, give credit where it’s due,” you shot back with a grin. “You’ve got this way of making everything feel so real. Like when you’re in pain, we’re in pain. When you’re in love, we’re falling right alongside you.”

“Wow,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear it. “I don’t know what to do with all these compliments. This is the best therapy session I’ve ever had.”

You laughed, crossing your legs and leaning forward slightly. “Well, I’m glad I could help. But now I’m curious—how did you prepare for a role like that? I mean, it’s so emotionally intense, no?.”

“It was a lot of journaling, a lot of talking with Luca about backstory and motivations,” Drew explained, his tone more thoughtful. “And honestly, I kind of drew from real-life experiences. Not the exact ones, obviously, but just feelings of vulnerability and… wanting to be understood.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said softly, your smile turning tender. “It’s amazing how much of ourselves we pour into these characters.”

“Exactly,” Drew agreed. “And sometimes it’s terrifying, but when it resonates with people, it feels worth it.”

“It definitely resonated with me,” you assured him. “And I’m sure with countless others too.”

“That’s really nice to hear,” he said with a soft smile.

“How was it for you to work with Luca? Because I remember it being one of the highlights of my career.”

Drew’s eyes lit up at the mention of Luca Guadagnino, and he leaned forward slightly, as if the memory itself was a magnet pulling him closer. “Oh, working with Luca was… incredible,” he said, his voice laced with awe. “He’s got this way of creating such a safe, open space on set. It’s almost like he’s not just directing—he’s inviting you into this world he’s building in his head.”

You nodded eagerly, your own memories of working with Luca bringing a nostalgic smile to your face. “I know exactly what you mean. He makes it feel like you’re collaborating on this deeply personal piece of art, rather than just executing someone else’s vision.”

“Exactly!” Drew said, gesturing animatedly. “And he has this way of pulling things out of you that you didn’t even know you had. Like, he’ll ask you one simple question, and suddenly you’re diving into this emotional rabbit hole.”

You laughed, tilting your head in agreement. “He asked me once, ‘What would this character, Maren in my case, dream about?’ and it completely changed how I approached the next scene.”

Drew’s mouth dropped open in mock surprise. “He asked me the exact same question!”

“No way!” you exclaimed, your laughter spilling out in disbelief. “I love that! It’s honestly such a deceptively simple question, but it opens up so many layers.”

“It really does,” Drew said, chuckling. “And then you’re sitting there like, ‘Okay, now I have to rethink everything I thought I knew about this character.’”

“It’s kind of genius, though,” you added. “He makes you work harder, but not in a way that feels forced. It’s like… he trusts you to figure it out, but he gives you these breadcrumbs to follow.”

“Exactly,” Drew said again, his tone growing softer. “I think that’s why his films feel so intimate, he gets the human part so right.”

You smiled, letting his words settle in the air for a moment. “I think that’s what makes working with him feel like such a privilege. It’s not just about telling a story—it’s about feeling it.”

Drew nodded, his gaze thoughtful. “And those are the moments that stick with you, you know? The ones where you felt something real, even if it was just for a moment.”

“Completely,” you agreed, your voice soft with sincerity. “Those moments are why we do this.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in companionable silence, the weight of the conversation settling in the cozy studio. Then, Drew broke the quiet with a grin. “Okay, but did Luca make you do those impromptu rehearsals at, like, the crack of dawn?”

“Oh my God, yes!” you burst out, your eyes widening. “I’d just roll out of bed with zero coffee and somehow be expected to pour my soul into a scene.”

Drew laughed, his face lighting up. “Right? It’s like, ‘Good morning, here’s your emotional breakdown for the day.’”

You laughed along with him, the shared experience adding another thread to the easy camaraderie forming between you. “But honestly, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat.”

“Same,” Drew said, his expression softening again. “For Luca? Anytime.”

“Absolutely,” you agreed, your eyes locking with his for a moment before the warmth of the studio light reminded you both that the cameras were still rolling.

Drew shifted in his seat slightly, his expression thoughtful. “You know, it’s kind of wild—hearing you talk about all these incredible experiences. You’ve been doing this for so long, and yet it’s like you’re just getting started.”

You tilted your head with a small smile. “That’s sweet of you to say. But yeah, I guess I have been in this industry for most of my life. It’s all I’ve ever really known.”

Drew’s eyebrows lifted. “That’s crazy to think about. I didn’t even consider acting until after college. You must’ve been, what, ten? Eleven?”

“Eight, actually,” you corrected with a chuckle. “My first role was in this little indie film. I was basically just the kid who ran around in the background eating ice cream, but I thought it was the coolest thing ever.”

He laughed, clearly amused. “That’s adorable. And now you’re the Hollywood It Girl. No big deal.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, your laughter light. “Oh, stop it. But yeah, it’s been a journey. Growing up on sets definitely shaped me, for better or worse. Sometimes I wonder what it would’ve been like to have a more ‘normal’ childhood.”

Drew’s smile softened. “That must’ve been such a whirlwind. I can’t even imagine starting that young. I didn’t even think about acting seriously until high school.”

“Oh, I’ve read about that!” You said, your voice lighting up. “You were all about sports growing up, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted with a chuckle. “I was your typical small-town kid—baseball, basketball, you name it. I was convinced I was going to go pro in something, but clearly, that didn’t pan out.”

“Well, I think acting suits you pretty well.” 

“Thank you,” he says with a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “But yeah, the real shift happened in high school when I joined a drama class. It was all Samuel Beckett and absurdist plays, which at the time I thought was the coolest thing ever.”

You leaned forward, intrigued. “So that’s what pulled you in? Drama class?”

“Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “And then I went to Western Carolina for college. I double-majored in English and theater, thinking, ‘If this acting thing doesn’t work out, I’ll at least have a backup plan.’”

“That’s so realistic of you,” you said with a laugh. “Meanwhile, I was ten, telling anyone who’d listen that I was going to win an Oscar one day.”

“And look at you now,” Drew said, gesturing to you with an almost reverent smile. “You made it happen.”

You chuckled, a bit flustered by his admiration. “Well, not quite, just an Oscar nominee for now. But thank you. You know, I think your journey’s pretty incredible too. A double major? That’s no joke. And starting later in the game like you did… it must have felt like a slow burn, but it’s clearly paid off.”

“Yeah, I guess,” Drew said thoughtfully. “It was definitely a slower burn for me. I didn’t land my first real gig until I’d been auditioning for what felt like forever.”

“I think that makes your journey even more special,” you said, your tone sincere. “You came into it with all this life experience and maturity. It shows in your work, you know? There’s this depth to your performances that’s just… rare.”

Drew’s ears turned a little pink, and he laughed softly, glancing down at his hands. “Wow, you’re gonna make me blush over here.”

“Good,” you said with a teasing smile. “It’s only fair after all the compliments you’ve been throwing my way.”

He looked up, his grin sheepish but warm. “Touché. But seriously, hearing that from someone like you—someone who’s been at this for so long and is so insanely talented—it means a lot.”

“Well,” you replied with a playful tilt of your head, “I think it’s safe to say we’re officially mutual fans.”

Drew laughed at that, the sound easy and genuine. “I can live with that.”

The conversation shifted into more comfortable territory as the two of you shared experiences, trading stories about acting and the film industry. Drew, now feeling at ease, leaned forward with renewed interest.

“You know,” he began, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I've been thinking about how different TV shows and movies are, especially when it comes to the pacing and character development. Like, in a show, we have to maintain this ongoing energy for the characters over multiple seasons. But with movies, it’s a totally different vibe, right?”

You nodded, understanding immediately where he was going. “It’s definitely a huge shift. With TV, you’re given time to build on a character slowly. Every episode is another chapter, so you can explore new facets of them and keep the audience hooked for longer periods of time. But movies, they’re this intense sprint. You have to get everything across in just two hours or so, but in a way that feels just as layered and satisfying.”

Drew's eyes lit up with excitement, clearly passionate about the topic. "Exactly! You have to balance the action and suspense while still giving the characters these moments of vulnerability. Over multiple seasons, you can really let them grow and change. It's like a slow burn. But when you're doing a movie, you don’t have the luxury of that buildup. It has to be this concentrated emotional punch right from the start.”

“That’s one of the biggest challenges of film, for sure," you agreed. "In a film, every second counts. You can’t afford to waste a moment. But I think what’s also interesting is how both mediums can explore a character’s journey from different angles. TV shows can dive into their backstory in more detail, but movies... they really need to hit those emotional beats and leave an impact without dragging it out."

Drew smiled, clearly engaged in the discussion. “In TV shows you need that perfect balance of suspense, character development, and personal growth. And then, at the end of the season, you drop a huge bombshell that leaves people wanting more.”

You laughed, raising an eyebrow playfully. “Sounds like you’ve been doing some serious thinking about it. What’s the secret to keeping the audience hooked without losing the depth of your character?”

He leaned back, his expression thoughtful. “Well, I think it’s about letting the characters evolve with the story. You need to make sure the audience sees the human side of your character, even when they're in these crazy situations. It’s what keeps people invested in the long run.”

“You’ve really got the process figured out,” you said with a smile. “But you’re right—it’s a different rhythm for TV. With a movie, you get to go deep quickly, but with a show, you have to keep it dynamic and varied. And let’s not forget, you need that cliffhanger at the end to make people binge-watch the next season.”

Drew’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “You’re giving away all the secrets! Next thing you know, people will be expecting a cliffhanger every time they watch a movie."

“Well, movies and TV are both art, but they demand different approaches,” you said, “and you’re doing an amazing job balancing both. I’m honestly so excited to see where your career goes next. Both worlds are lucky to have you.”

He chuckled softly, clearly humbled. “Thanks. I think I’m just lucky to be a part of both. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be in a show that gets people talking for days?”

“Right? You’ve got Outer Banks, which has such a dedicated fanbase, and then movies like Queer that touch people in such a different way. It’s amazing to watch your versatility.”

He leaned in slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. “I’m just trying to keep up with you. Honestly, your transition from action to more emotional roles is inspiring. I hope I can pull off something even close to what you’ve done with your career.”

Your smile softened, your voice sincere. “Well, you’re already doing it, Drew. You’re already there. It’s not just about the roles—it’s about the heart you put into them. And you’ve definitely got that.”

Drew’s smile faltered for a moment, the weight of your words sinking in. His gaze softened, as if he were truly reflecting on what you’d said. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms but keeping his eyes on you, his expression thoughtful.

“It's crazy, isn't it?” He began, his voice a little quieter now, “The idea of giving so much of yourself to something that feels so... intimate. But when it works, when the audience feels it too, there's nothing like it.”

“Exactly,” you agreed, your voice a little quieter now. “That's the real magic, when the audience feels like they know the characters, like they're right there with them. It’s not about the plot twists or the fancy sets—it’s about the emotions that we build and share with them.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, his gaze drifting away for a moment before returning to you. “Speaking of emotions, I just saw your new movie, We Live In Time,” he said, his voice taking on a softer tone. “It’s one of those films that stays with you, you know? It’s raw in a way that makes you uncomfortable, but it’s also beautiful. How did you tap into that for Almut?”

Your expression softened as you thought back on the experience. We Live In Time had been a journey—a raw, almost therapeutic one. “It was an emotional rollercoaster, honestly,” you said, leaning back slightly, letting the memory settle in. “I think the hardest part was showing that moment where her whole world shifts. It was such a raw, profound type of emotion I had to channel in order to do justice to the character and her experiences.”

Drew sat back, letting the weight of the conversation settle. “I think that's what makes your career so incredible. You never just play a character. You become them. And you take us with you. Every heartbreak, every triumph, every moment of doubt... we feel it all with you. That's what makes your work so powerful.”

You met his gaze, feeling the depth of the conversation linger between you both. “It’s all about connection, right? Connecting with the character, with the audience, and with the emotions that we all share as humans. Because at the end of the day, we’re all just trying to make sense of time, love, and the moments we get.”

Drew smiled, his expression genuine and soft. “Well, you’ve definitely made sense of it for me. We Live In Time—it’s not just a movie. It’s a reminder to cherish what we have. And that, in itself, is something special.”

You smiled back, your heart full as you let the words sink in. “Thank you, Drew. That’s really sweet of you.”

You both shared a comfortable silence for a moment, before Drew broke it with a playful grin. “You know, it’s clear you’ve mastered the art of vulnerability on screen, but I can’t help but wonder—did you ever have moments on set where it was just... impossible to take things seriously?”

You laughed, the sound light and genuine. “Oh, absolutely. In fact, as a kid, it was all impossible to be serious,” you admitted, shaking your head at the memory. “I remember this one time during a scene on set when I was probably around 9 or 10. We were supposed to be doing this emotional scene, and I had to cry on cue. But instead of crying, I couldn’t stop giggling. It was a dramatic moment, and my co-star was all serious and trying to get through the scene, but I just... lost it.”

Drew raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Giggling during a dramatic scene? What happened?”

“Well, my director, bless her heart, kept trying to give me these 'serious actor' looks. She was this no-nonsense kind of woman, and she had this way of narrowing her eyes when things weren’t going well. I tried my best to hold it together, but then my co-star—who was way too good at being serious—looked at me and just gave this super intense stare, and that was it. I burst out laughing right in the middle of the take.”

Drew chuckled, shaking his head. “I can just picture that. You were probably trying to hold it together, but it must have been so hard with all that tension in the air.”

“I swear, the more I tried not to laugh, the harder it became,” you continued, grinning at the memory. “It was one of those moments where you’re like, 'Why am I even here? I can’t do this.' But somehow, I got through it. The director had to take a deep breath, and we did a few more takes. Eventually, we got it done, but I think we all were on the verge of cracking up the whole time.”

Drew let out a laugh, clearly imagining the scene. “I can’t blame you. I feel like as a kid, you have no filter. Everything feels like a joke, and it’s so hard to be serious when everyone else is trying so hard.”

“You have no idea,” you said, your voice still light. “There were so many times I’d be doing a serious scene, and I’d start thinking about something random, like a certain meme or a funny sound someone made on set—and then, bam, it was game over. I’d be holding in a laugh like my life depended on it.”

Drew smirked, leaning in a little. “I totally feel that. I mean, as an adult, I still have moments where I struggle to keep a straight face. I once had a scene where I was supposed to be super intense, but the prop guy was standing just out of frame, and he made this ridiculous face at me—completely threw me off. I couldn’t stop laughing, and it ended up taking hours to finish the scene because we kept cracking up. Honestly, I think the crew started to get annoyed with us after a while.”

“See?” you said with a grin. “It never really changes. Truthfully, the older you get, the harder it becomes to hold it in. But then you look at the footage and realize how much fun you actually had, and that makes it all worth it.”

Drew nodded thoughtfully, a playful twinkle in his eyes. “Yeah, that’s the thing. Sometimes it’s the moments you didn’t plan for that end up being the most memorable. Like when you have a laugh on set, and suddenly you feel closer to everyone, even though you’re supposed to be in character.”

“Exactly,” you said, your smile widening. “There’s something so beautiful about those unscripted moments. It reminds you that acting is, at its core, about connecting—whether that’s through laughter or the heavy stuff. And even though I had my fair share of giggling fits as a kid, I think those moments taught me just as much as the serious ones. Maybe more.”

Drew leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “It's funny how those little moments—like a laugh in the middle of a serious scene—can end up being the ones you remember the most. I think those are the ones that make the work feel real, you know?”

You smiled, your gaze distant as you reflected on the years of working on sets. “I know exactly what you mean.”

“Yeah, like those unscripted moments,” Drew added, his voice quieter now, as if the weight of the sentiment lingered in the air. “They give the performance an authenticity that you can’t get from just following the script to a tee.”

You nodded, the words hanging between you like a shared understanding. “Exactly. And as a kid, I was so focused on getting it ‘right’—on being perfect—that I missed the beauty of just being in the moment. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized how important it is to let go of the idea of perfection. It's in those mistakes, the wrong takes, the bloopers—that's where you find the truth.”

Drew's expression softened, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. “I think it’s key not to be afraid to show the mess, the imperfect parts of a character, because that’s what makes them human.”

A small chuckle escaped you, the warmth of the moment filling the studio. “Right? We’re all just a little bit of a mess, trying to figure it out, but that’s what makes the journey worth it. We’re constantly learning, constantly evolving, and we bring that to our work. The growth, the mistakes—it all shapes us.”

Drew nodded, his gaze shifting as if reflecting on those same ideas. “Yeah, and the growth never stops, does it? Just when you think you’ve figured it out, something new happens, and it challenges you again.”

“That's the beauty of it,” you said, your voice quieter now, the bond between you both deepening. “The challenge is what keeps it exciting, keeps you moving forward.”

Drew grinned, a playful spark lighting his eyes once more. “Well, I guess we’re both lifelong students of this thing called acting, huh?”

“Absolutely,” you said with a laugh, the lightness returning. “And just like any good student, we’ll always be learning. Who knows, maybe we'll even get better at not laughing in the middle of dramatic scenes.”

Drew let out a hearty laugh, nodding enthusiastically. “I think that’s going to take years of practice, honestly.”

You both shared a moment of genuine laughter, the warmth of your conversation filling the space around you. You leaned back into the chairs, the laughter still lingering in the air, a sense of camaraderie that made the space between you feel comfortable and open. You continued sharing stories, moving seamlessly from one experience to the next.

The conversation began to slow, the easy flow of stories fading into a comfortable silence, as you both shared an unspoken understanding. The light laughter that had filled the room now felt like a warm, lingering hum between you.

Drew shifted slightly in his chair, his gaze turning toward you with a subtle, thoughtful expression. “You know,” he began, his voice softer now, “I really hope we get to work together sometime. I think it’d be incredible. It’s the kind of thing where I can already imagine what it’d be like. Just... easy, real. Like this.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you kept your composure, offering a smile that spoke volumes. “I’d love that. If you receive a call from your manager these days… maybe I had something to do with it, so be prepared.”

The air between you both was charged, the quiet intensity of the moment not lost on either of you. There was something unspoken, something deeper that neither of you addressed outright but that seemed to hang there all the same. The connection was undeniable, yet it lingered in the silence, unspoken, but clear.

Drew finally broke the spell with a playful grin, his eyes flicking back to yours. “Oh, I’ll be ready. Can’t wait to see what magic we create together.”

You returned his smile, your heart racing ever so slightly, though you kept it hidden behind the ease of your words. “I’m sure it’ll be something incredible.”

As the interview wrapped up, there was a lingering sense of something unspoken between you both, an attraction that neither of you had to mention but was so clearly felt. The kind of connection that could only be hinted at, but would never truly fade. It was the kind of moment that would stay with both of you long after the cameras stopped rolling.

“Thank you,” you said softly as the final moments of the interview started to loom, your voice carrying a depth that reflected everything unsaid between you. “This has been amazing. Honestly, it feels like we’ve been talking for hours, and yet it still doesn’t feel like enough.”

He nodded, his expression soft but genuine. “I feel the same way. This has been one of the most honest and open conversations I’ve had in a long time.”

The crew began to pack up, signaling that the interview was at its end, but neither of you seemed in any hurry to break the moment. The usual chatter and movement around you felt distant, as if the two of you were in your own world for just a little longer.

“You know,” Drew said, his voice quieter now, a hint of sincerity threading through, “I think we make a pretty good team even just sitting here talking. Imagine what we could do with a whole script.”

Your smile softened, and you nodded, the words feeling right, but the undertone of something more—something unsaid—hung in the air. “Yeah, I think we’d be unstoppable.”

The moment stretched between you both, filled with the kind of comfortable tension that comes when you realize you’ve shared something real. Something that felt like it could turn into something more.

You both stood up, a final, lingering moment before the usual goodbye. Drew extended a hand, his gaze holding yours a beat longer than necessary.

“Take care, okay?” he said, his voice warm, like the words carried more than just a polite farewell.

You shook his hand, the warmth of his touch lingering just a moment longer than expected. “You too, Drew,” you replied, your voice soft yet carrying an undercurrent of meaning that mirrored his own.

As you turned to gather your things, you couldn’t help but glance back over your shoulder. He was still standing there, watching you with that same thoughtful expression, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. The faintest smile curved his lips, as if he were replaying the conversation in his mind.

“See you around,” he called out, the words simple but loaded with promise.

“Yeah,” you said, meeting his gaze one last time. “See you around.”

Walking away, you felt a peculiar lightness, as though something intangible had shifted, leaving you both exhilarated and curious. It wasn’t every day you met someone who made you feel seen in such a profound way, and as you left the studio, you found yourself smiling, a quiet hope blooming in your chest.

And for a fleeting second, you allowed yourself to wonder what could come next.

[melminli]

I LOVEDDDDDDD your Thanos “bang bang bang” post and it made me very curious abt how they know eo and stuff and like I’d love to read more about it in general if you don’t mind. It’s so great and I love your writing <333 have a fun day / night 🫶🏻

BANG BANG BANG ll

summary - thanos was always just such an easy person to argue with. you really hated the guy and that was something that was never going to change, even if your life was on the line and it fucking was.

pairing: (thanos) choi su-bong x fem. reader

word count: 1.8k

contains: violence, angst, death, drug use and addiction, dark content - just usual squid game stuff really

a/n: ty so much! this turned out kinda freaky but that is because thanos is a freak so, i didn't really have a choice.

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There was an eerie silence among all the participants for the first few seconds after the first death happened. The realization of what this meant for everyone present slowly sank in, and you thought that maybe the crazy man with all his screaming, wasn't quite as crazy as you originally thought. The real madman was probably the person somewhere upstairs or - you didn't know exactly where, but you knew that they were watching you.

“Don't move!” His voice shouted again, but this time with a completely different force. It may be that this was the most logical conclusion one could draw from what had just happened, but some seemed to throw all logic out of the window as soon as the fear of death hit. It only took one person to panic to set off a domino effect and from one second to the next loud gunshots could be heard, following the fearful screams of one person after another. The participants were being slaughtered like frightened animals in a cage, what kind of sick game was really going on here?

You too began to tremble as you looked down at the floor, dissociating and trying to ignore your surroundings as best you could. You had to stop yourself from flinching when the person right next to you was killed, even as you felt his still warm blood covering your cheek, even as a small river of it started pooling around your foot. You were most likely going to leave a trace of him all over the ground as soon as you started walking again - whoever he was. It didn't take very long for everyone who had moved to be shot, maybe half a minute - and yet it must have been the worst half minute of your life so far.

“Don't you dare move,” Thanos said in a voice you weren't used to hearing from him. “I'm serious, don't make me mad.”

You just looked at his back from behind, with a tense posture while you tried to regain control of your breathing again. Finally, there was complete silence on the pitch again. Even if it wasn't an entirely welcome silence.

The voice from the loudspeakers began to speak again and you already knew that this would be a voice that would haunt you in your nightmares. “Let me repeat: You can move forward while the tagger shouts, Green light, red light. If your movement is detected afterward, you will be eliminated.”

Ah, so that's what you meant with eliminated. A bit literal but no biggie! The game continued, but no one really dared to move a muscle even when the puppet looked away. You then saw Thanos shift slightly out of the corner of your eye and noticed that he was pulling his cross necklace out of his t-shirt. Safe to say, that you could barely believe what you were seeing right before your very eyes. You've got to be kidding me, they took everything we had from us, but he was allowed to keep that old thing? “Are you seriously going to take that stuff now?” you whispered in disbelief but didn't really judge him for it. You were this close to just laughing out loud at the absurdity of the scene, but you didn't.

“You don't have to be jealous, sweetheart,” he replied with slightly shaky hands as he stopped his movement abruptly when the doll finished talking. He just stared longingly at the colorful pills in front of him. “I don't mind sharing with you, you know that.”

You sighed inwardly at the thing you were about to do. You had been clean for maybe about three years by now and quitting drugs of any kind overnight was fucking hard - definitely one of the hardest things you had to do in your life. On the other hand, your life was still as shitty as before, the only difference being that you were now consciously depressed and unhappy, so who cares? You could die every second anyway. “Thanks.” you just said after taking the pill out of his hand and threw the thing as quickly as possible in your mouth as soon as the doll looked away. Yeah, you were the biggest hypocrite on earth, old news.

It only took maybe a few seconds after that for you to feel the effects of the pill and then finally, all the stress started to dissipate. Your muscles relaxed, all the shouting about whatever felt like a soft pillow hugging you and the weird laying positions of the dead around you suddenly seemed incredibly funny. These were really strong pills, you could practically feel your whole body tingling. “Why are they all suddenly forming a line?” you asked with a grin and Thanos just hummed, not knowing the answer himself. “No idea, but watch this,” he said and waited until the puppet had turned towards you to push the person next to him, causing everyone in front of them to fall over too. “Ding! You lost,” he told them while wiggling his eyebrows and smirking after he watched them get shot.

You didn't even try to stifle your laughter at the scene. “You really are such an asshole.” you replied, shoving him aside this time after the doll averted its gaze. You then ran away as fast and as far away as you could so that he couldn't take revenge on you for what you had just done. However, you quickly stopped moving with both hands in the air as soon as the girlish voice emitted red light as if you were surrendering to her. You stifled your grin and pretty much failed when you noticed a slightly older woman standing relatively close to you. “Hey, are you trying to hide behind me to use me as a shield?” you spoke out without moving your mouth much and watched as she began to sweat more after you realized what she was doing. Still, she didn't pay you any further attention. “And now you're ignoring me too?” you spat out annoyed and grabbed her by the arm when you were free to move and pulled her in front of you against her will.

She tried to fight you off but you forced her further forward while she tried to defend herself. “You're older than me, aren't you ashamed of yourself?” You asked her and stopped walking before the robot's face turned towards you.

Number 57, who was still resisting your grip, stumbled a little to the side when you suddenly let go of her. She was about to howl in delight when she noticed how everyone else stood still. “No…” she mumbled out fearfully. “It's because of that bitch! I didn't -” she tried to defend herself to someone as she looked around the room, but her head caught the bullet before she could even finish her sentence.

“I may be a bitch, but at least I'm still alive.” you sang to her dead body on the floor before running past her. You didn't know how much time was left, but you had almost made it to the finish line anyway. You stopped with your back to the robot girl this time and it didn't take you long to spot the purple hair in the crowd. “Su-bong!” you shouted his name, since you had somehow gotten separated while running. You waited until he yelled back with a what?! “Last one there, gets fucked in the ass!” you yelled out without any shame or filter and saw his facial expression turn serious at the challenge. “Let's Go!”

The whole game went by relatively quickly once you took the pill from Thanos. It was actually quite fun, you thought to yourself as you both jumped around like two crazy people with grinning faces, waving your arms around wildly. I know it's not socially acceptable to say this, but I fucking love doing drugs! It was like everything around you was happening in slow motion and all the decisions you made felt foggy, like you didn't even realize what you were doing.

You loved being this person, it felt great to forget everything and just - not think. “I have won! No, really! You crossed the line two steps after me, I saw it!” you exclaimed before Thanos could object to a single thing. “Didn't anyone else see that?” you exclaimed in disbelief as if the others weren't busy staying alive while watching several others die right before their faces. You didn't care about the looks they gave you as you waved your hand. “No, they definitely saw it. I won.”

Thanos just gave in with a heavy sigh and a roll of his eyes. “Yeah yeah, I'm getting fucked in the ass which is gay, very funny.” he just mumbled to himself annoyed, and continued to avoid your gaze, but couldn't help grin again when you slapped him on the shoulder laughing. “Hey, why did we stop doing all this again?” he asked you when he couldn't remember the reason. All he knew was that he hadn't had this much fun in a long time, even though he knew that he always had a great time with you - no matter what.

You laughed. “Oh, that's because you promised me that we'd both get clean together, and then you spent the money I gave you for rehab on more drugs behind my back.“ you laughed along with him, even if Thanos frowned a little at the memory and you started to smile forcedly after remembering again how he had betrayed you. “Or what was it again? Was it something about that Youtuber you told me about…” you mumbled to yourself obliviously, feeling any sense of happiness begin to fade. You finally gave up, the details weren't that important anyway. “It doesn't really matter though, right? In any case, you used the money for something else, whatever it was. Even though you knew how hard I worked for it - hell, I didn't even eat most days to scrape it together, man.” you stated while you looked him in the face, even though he averted his gaze from you. “That's just fucked up dude.”

Exactly. You actually hated being this person. You might not remember it right now, but you would as soon as the effects of the pill wore off, which hopefully wasn't soon. You really hoped it wasn't soon, because you didn't want to be aware of anything that had happened today.

next.