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#typically as a distraction on the first place
lina-linny · 2 days
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summary: yn is insecured about talking to much but her boyfriend hyunjin is there to comfort her
genre: hurt, comfort, fluff
words: 1k
It was a typical Friday evening. As always, Yn stumbled through the door of the small apartment she shared with her boyfriend Hyunjin just as he sat down in front of his canvas. Loaded down with bags, she tried to get rid of her shoes with moderate success.
"Yn-aaaaah how was work, love?"
"Good," she replied curtly, putting down one of her numerous shopping bags, which were filled to the brim. Hyunjin was taken aback. When yn came home on Fridays, she usually never stopped talking to him about her work. About how much fun she had with her new project at work, what she had for lunch or what her annoying colleague had done again. It wasn't like her to be that curt and dismissive, hyunjin realized with a frown. shrugging his shoulders, he began to draw. maybe she was just tired.
yn was completely caught up in her usual routine. everything was the same as always. But instead of looking forward to the weekend with her boyfriend and finding comfort in her upcoming weekly "painting-tea-talking ritual", she was plagued by countless self-doubts today. Was she not pretty enough? Was she really annoying hyunjin? Was she too loud?
Sighing, she walked through the kitchen and put the freshly bought groceries away in their designated places. When she had put the last can in one of the cupboards, she put on some tea water and opened the shelf with her thousands of cups. without thinking about it, she pulled out her comfort cup and filled it to the brim with hot water. looking at it, the cup wasn't particularly pretty. the design was peeling off nicely because of the frequent washing, and yet it was perfect in yn's eyes. it had been the first gift hyunjin had ever given her. when she met him, she was stuck in one of the darkest periods of her life. plagued by insecurities, stress and unhealthy relationships, hyunjin had smuggled himself into her life as a small glimmer of hope and when he wasn't there or she couldn't express her worries, she clung to the cup.
Ironically, the reason she needed to hold her cup today was her fear of losing hyunjin. Was she too exhausting? lost in thought, she picked out a tea bag and carefully let it disappear into the water in the cup. then, as usual, she sat down next to hyunjin, who by now had a rough sketch on his canvas and greeted her with a beaming smile.
the artist had been looking forward to her usual ritual all day. yn could only muster a half-hearted grin. as she slumped into her usual chair, hyunjin waited patiently to finally hear all about her day. he was dying to find out whether her colleague ayumi had so obviously made a move at her much too old and happily married boss again, or whether linh from the marketing department had spilled her coffee on her colleagues again and had brought these heavenly muffins as an apology for the chaos, which yn would quote "kill for". in both cases, this would be the third time in a month. but instead of the usual gossip, a depressed silence followed. hyunjin tried to ignore the silence by turning his attention back to the painting in front of him.
he began to paint a dark blue. he carefully let the brush glide over the canvas. as he always did. as he had done hundreds of times before and yet it was wrong. the line was wrong. it didn't show what his heart wanted to express. it was too big and too small, too wide and too thin. it lacked any warmth, just like hyunjin. the room was warmed by the rays of the setting sun and his sweater gave his body a pleasant temperature but it didn't reach his heart.
"yn-ah what's wrong? why don't you talk to me? you can't make me beg so brutally. give me all the tea!" hyunjin's mouth twisted into a pout and made yn smile slightly.
"I don't know, Jini... I talk too much anyway... I don't want to distract you from painting." to say hyunjin was confused would be an understatement. he furrowed his brow worriedly.
"jagia where did you get the idea that you talk too much? i love to hear you talk. especially when i'm painting! i want to know how your day was. every day! i want to hear everything you have to tell me my muse. i can't paint without you. the lines don't get right the painting can't really convey what i feel but when you're with me, when i hear your honey sweet voice it just becomes real love. i never want you to shut up understand?" hyunjin curled his shapely lips into a pout as if his girlfriend had personally attacked him with her previous statement.
"okay, okay jini!" yn laughed, but hyunjin didn't want to let the whole thing go so easily.
"jagi, what makes you think you talk too much?" hyunjin shifted so that his full attention was on his beloved. he looked at her anxiously as she nervously kneaded her hands and clutched her cup for support.
"well... i just thought... you know, hana, you know the one who regularly sleeps with the ceo... i was talking about our date where we went to see this beautiful van gogh exhibition and well... she said i always talk way too much and that i never let anyone get a word in edgewise. and... maybe she also said that... she's surprised that someone like you is still with me at all... and i mean she's not entirely wrong, is she? i always talk so much. when you paint i ramble non-stop. you don't get a word in edgewise and i'd understand if you were annoyed with me for that... or something"
"ohh love..." hyunjin sighed and wrapped his girlfriend in a warm hug, pulling her onto his lap, which she only commented on with a sad smile.
"have you forgotten that I always ramble the same way?" He lovingly nudged her nose, which made her giggle.
"i sometimes ramble on for hours about how great our new choreography is or how annoyed i am with one of the boys and as far as i can remember you always love to listen to me. so please don't stop. you shouldn't listen to hana this little..."
yn stopped her boyfriend from uttering a sinful insult to hana by placing her soft and tea-warmed lips on his. hyunjin sighed into the kiss and pulled her closer to him. Their lips moved as if they had never done anything else before. They danced a dance whose choreography only they knew. Hyunjin's hands were soon in her hair as he tried to take away her insecurities with his kiss alone.
panting, they broke away from each other but hyunjin didn't let her escape from his strong arms. slowly, he covered her now laughing face with kisses. smiling, hyunjin buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled her scent. "soo... are you going to tell me how your day was, my muse?" he asked, pressing a tender kiss to her sensitive neck, which made her giggle.
"okay... do you know how annoying hikaru was today? he's been running around all day and..." hyunjin returned to his canvas even though one of his hands was now occupied holding yn's, who by now was sitting in her own chair again, sipping her tea as she talked.
by now, the sun had disappeared and was replaced by the soft shimmer of the moon. the cool evening air wafted through the open windows of their shared apartment and yet hyunjin was much warmer than he had been just a few minutes before. her voice dripped like liquid honey straight to his heart and the soft giggle that had just left her lips made hyunjin beam. he carefully applied the brush and... the line was perfect.
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xiakato · 2 days
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Through The Dance Of Fire And Rain: Solitude
This first part of this short series is mostly world building, smut will come later
The rain shatters on the cold cobblestone walkway, the dark clouds taking over the once beautiful blue. The sounds echo through the desolate, empty streets. The sorrowful cello and piano. The music from both beautiful melting into the rain. The rain doesn’t let up, neither do they. A girl, curious yet afraid, follows the sound. Drawn in, she finds her steps slowly, taking in the sorrowful tune, the darkness hidden beneath such sadness. Typically she stays inside, but something compelled her to exit her safe home, in such weather no less. The once bustling street, now empty, a shell of its splendor. The sorrowful tune leads her to the Cathedral, a place she has gone a handful of times. Yet this place is a mystery to her, The beautiful gothic architecture goes hand in hand with the sadness and darkness that echoes through the streets, the alleys.  She pushes one of the heavy cathedral doors open, laying her eyes on them.  Two beings, one holding a cello, the other playing the piano ever so gracefully. Almost ethereal, the rain hitting the windows in stark contrast of their all white clothing. She wants to stop and watch them from afar yet she keeps walking, entranced. The cello player lays his eyes on her as if he sees through her entire being. Her muddy shoes dirtying the pristine cathedral floors, her umbrella falling to her side, her damp hair sticking to her face. The beautiful sorrow that is unfolding in front of her eyes is too much, overwhelming. 
The woman now takes a glance at her, unfettered in her pursuit of true pain. She has heard of these two, only appearing when the rain does, disappearing as quickly without a trace. A tear rolls down her cheek, she doesn’t notice as her mind floods with her past relationship with the town dock hand. He wasn’t the best but wasn’t the worst, he tried yet it wasn’t enough. He moved on quickly, she didn’t. She is still stuck on him like the mud to her shoes. She comes back to bearings wiping the tears away from her eyes. Focusing on the two ethereal like beings that are now only a few feet away from her. Both of them are staring at her as they continue to play, bringing sadness to this town. Their eyes are devoid of emotion, of life.  The man slowly ends playing his cello.
“What brings you here young girl?” His voice is deep, commanding and soothing. 
“I felt like I needed to come here,” Her voice is oddly confident, surprising even herself. 
“Then,” He pauses looking over at the woman, she stops slowly as well, “You must need answers.” 
“Answers? I don’t need answers to anything.” 
“Answers to why you never got on with the dock hand, tragic. That boy is such a pure soul, heaven has high hopes for him.” 
“What do you mean?” She asks, her eyes quivering yet not leaving the man. 
“His soul is pure, chosen by heaven to ascend when his time has come, he will become one of us.”
“What are you…?” 
“We are angels,” The woman talks now, her voice cold and distant. The young girl looks at the woman, stunned at her beauty despite the lifeless behind her beautiful emerald girl eyes. Looking back at the man, he has a smile, albeit very small. 
“Then why didn’t it work?” She asks, eager to hear the reasoning behind it.
“He’s pure, you’re not. In fact the darkness in your soul is what led you here,”  The man explains to her as he stands up, his height catching her off guard, “Don’t be afraid, the darkness that has been inside your soul this whole time is merely waiting till you are able to feel it.”
“What will happen when I do?” 
“You’ll become like us, we are angels yes, but we are more and less than angels, We are the fallen.”
“The fallen…” She mutters as she looks between the two.
“Yes my dear, The Fallen, we are fallen angels, distracted and consumed by the darkness in our souls.”
“How can I not become like you?”
“Find them, find your fated lover. They will restore the purity in your soul.” 
“Do you guys not find yours?” 
“I did, I wasn’t his,” The woman stares at the window, her fingers itching to play the keys once again. The young girl looks at the man, waiting for his answer
“I killed her,” His eyes reflect a tinge of pain before going back to dull and lifeless, taking up his bow. He stares at the other fallen, “Wonyoung,” His voice soft, tender filled with unexplainable emotion. She smiles ever so slightly hearing her name fall from his lips. 
“Y/n,” Her voice filled with the same unexplainable emotion, the young girl can only stand and watch as the beautiful sorrowful fills the senses once again. She watches on, they ignore her, her questions left unanswered, unasked. She turns away and walks back down the center, slowly taking in the tinge of heartbreak, despair. Pulling back up her umbrella, a note falls to her hand taking it and reading it aloud. 
“The heart was meant to be broken,” She stands still taking in the note before tossing it aside, walking away quickly. She feels their gazes on her as she walks away. 
Getting back home, she is greeted by her mother, “Oh Kazuha, I was just about to go looking for you,” 
“Sorry I took a walk, enjoying the music, “ She explains, kicking off her shoes, and hanging her umbrella. 
“I see, those two have always played such beautiful music, always filled with despair.” 
“You’ve met them?” Zuha asks her mother, curious. 
“Never but some of my friends have, the two of them have been around here since even before your great grandparents my dear.” 
She could only nod, processing the age of the two in the cathedral. Why here? In that very cathedral? She needs more information, the thought of her own predicament fleeing from her mind, she searches through her family's library looking for anything about them, anything. The rain has yet to yield and yet have they. Their sorrow echoes still through the town, her mother sits by the window in the library in the rocking chair. Her eyes closed, her mind filled with the memories of her husband. Kazuha can’t find anything, “Mother?” 
“Yes my dear?” Her mother opens her eyes looking at her only child, the love and affection that is only found in a mother is evident. 
“Y/n and Wonyoung,” She says simply hoping that is enough.
“So you’ve learned their names,” Her mother smiles, looking back at the falling rain, dripping down the window pane, “You wish to know more don’t you?” 
“Yes, mother.” 
“Y/n and Wonyoung, They go back centuries, during the Otrian war. Y/n  was rumored to be a general with a secret love from the enemy nation of Grador.”
“That war was with Grador,” Zuha says, “How does that work in the eyes of his comrades, his subordinates?” 
“Never well, my daughter. The last battle, The battle for Zylourgos.”
“The day that both nations fell.”
“I’ve taught you well Zuha, that day everything changed. Grador’s armies have caught wind of Y/n’s lover. Captured her and brought her to use as a bargaining chip.” 
II
The sounds of marching, armor clanging with each step, thousands of armored men stand close to one another, ready to strike, some scared, some steel their resolve. For Glory, For honorable death 
“General Y/n, we come to make you a deal,” Grador’s general shouts, Y/n’s eyes widen as they drag her out, his hands crushing the stone they rested on, “We will spare your lover, Ning Yizhuo. To bring a end to this war, to end this mindless killing,” 
“What is it that must be done,” Y/n says ignoring the remarks from his soldiers.
“Leave the city of Zylourgos, take all of your forces out of Grador and you may take her with you,” Grador’s General points at Yizhuo. Jumping down from the fortress walls, Y/n stands tall, his strength reverberates throughout the battlefield.
“Release her to me first and we shall leave,” Y/n demands, the general of Grador nods, releasing her. She runs as fast as she can. 
“Y/n!” She calls out desperately, “ Don’t trust th-”
Y/n stares in horror as the spear rips through her chest, “Yizhuo!” he dashes, catching her in his arms, her blood coating his armor. His hand cupped her cheek, her eyes fluttering, catching one last glimpse of his face. As her hand touches his face one last time before her life leaves her, “No no no please Yizhuo, Please not like this. Please please please,” He rocks her in his arms, “Yizhuo please, don’t leave me like this.” 
Y/n screams and screams, yet the screams of pain fall on deaf ears. The sound of iron against iron takes over. That was the day that both nations fell at the hands of one man. 
“The sorrow from his cello makes sense now, but what of Wonyoung?” 
“Wonyoung is a bit of an easier story to tell, Jang Wonyoung, The last Princess of Otria, The Divine Serpent.” 
“Didn’t Y/n kill everyone in both nations?” 
“Wonyoung was the exception. Her chosen one was Y/n,”
“How is that possible?” 
“God doesn’t care for the likes of us Kazuha, questioning him will only lead us to ruin,” She smiles, “Y/n couldn’t bring himself to kill her which led her to become one of the fallen with him, The divine serpent and The divine dragon together forever in damnation.” 
Kazuha sits there in silence looking at her mother watching the rain, enjoying the music. 
“Solitude knows no bounds my daughter, Solitude can make you stronger, but it can also make you weaker. Find your chosen one my dear,” Her mother takes her a coin pouch, “There’s enough to get to the next few towns.” 
“But-” 
“Dont worry dear, I will still be here when you return and so will they,” Her mother gestures out of the window towards the cathedral, “In fact you may even run into them again in your travels.”
Kazuha sighs, going to her room she knows anything she says won’t matter. Packing everything she would need for her trip, everything she hopes she would need at least. She says goodbye to her mother who sits still in that library rocking chair by the window. She sets off in the rain, looking back at the cathedral, leaving with more questions than answers. Yet she is unable to get more, she knows they won’t answer her. She gets to the train station and waits, a book clenched between her fingers. 
III
“Why didn’t you tell her Y/n?” Wonyoung’s voice gained some of the emotion it once had, her slender hands trailing up his neck to his face. 
“Tell her what? That she doesn’t have a destined one?” He looks down at Wonyoung as she nods, “I couldn’t, I… just couldn’t bring myself to tell an innocent girl that she will become like us, beings devoid of emotion.”
“Not being able to tell her that is emotion Y/n,” Wonyoung lays her head on his chest, “We aren’t as emotionless as you think.” 
“She doesn’t have a chosen one because of me Wonyoung, of my choices, my actions, my.. Destruction.” 
“God has a plan for everyone Y/n, that was just his for you,” She sways in his arms as they use their powers to continue to play the music. The two dance through the rain, their pristine white clothes covered with darker than black ink, as they dance through their despair, through the streets, empty, devoid of laughter, love, of life. Kazuha’s mother smiles as they pass her house.
“Those two always enjoy themselves in some way,” She cracks a smile as she fades in golden rays of light, the two watching as the rays of light ascend to the heavens. God has reclaim one of his precious angels. The two continue dancing as the rays of gold continue to ascend around the town, the rain comes to an end. The two fallen disappear from the streets, the music stops. People flood the streets once again.  The train finally comes, with Kazuha boarding and finding her seat, her heart feels heavy, burdened by something she feels like she missed. She ignores that feeling, as the train sets off from the station. Her stop isn’t far but far enough from home on foot that it is a two day ride on horseback. She watches through the train window, the clouds that once covered the ever expanding blue now retrating. She smiles softly as the train follows the hill side, silently saying goodbye to the place she grew up. Vowing that she will be back, better and happier. Still the music haunts her mind, she can’t get her mind off it. She slightly understands the pain of Y/n but she can’t come to even understand the pain of Wonyoung, her destiny was to be unable to let him go.  Despite her not being his destined, his chosen one. She watched as he destroyed her nation and another because of another, yet she stands by him. Not allowing him to stand alone in his abyssal despair, haunted by the memory of holding his dying lover in his arms. 
Wonyoung has devoted herself to him, and only him despite knowing he won’t love her the way she does him. Kazuha’s mind doesn’t wrap around it, and doesn't understand what love does to a person. Will she ever? She thinks to herself. 
“Excuse me?” A voice knocks her out of her thoughts, she looks over to a rather good looking man standing before her, “Is that seat taken?” 
“No, go ahead,” She gestures with a friendly smile, he smiles back sitting in front of her. 
“So where are you headed?” He asks, getting comfy in the seat, “Anywhere exciting?” 
“Unsure, I’ve never left my hometown, so I’ll go where the wind guides me.”
“Ooo a fresh new adventure! Ah, where are my manners? I’m Pulcinella,” He offers his hand to her, she shakes it and he leaves a kiss on her hand.
“I’m Kazuha,” She tells him, as that smile never leaves his face. 
“So I’m guessing that your hometown is the one we just left,” She nods, confirming his suspicions, “tell me have you met them? The rumors around your town say there’s fallen?” 
“No I haven’t,” She feels as if she shouldn’t tell this man she just met about them, she feels off by that smile never leaving his face. 
“Ahh rats, I wish to actually meet the fallen once,” he chuckles as they feel back into normal conversation. He’s easy to talk to, he has a broad view on the world, soon he grabs his bags saying goodbye, he jumps out of the window and disappears before she even sees what happened to him. 
May her journey be long and fruitful.
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applauseforsally · 2 years
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This ain't important but....
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butchlifeguard · 1 month
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something i was thinking about on stand yesterday.. danganronpa shsl lifeguard who tries to save a dying person they find, bonus points if they dont come clean about it at first because they think they actually killed that person with their efforts
#or if they do actually kill them which would be really tragic. this happens in chapter 4 of course#ok i actually put way too much thought into this. to put it into perspective i had shifts with 5 hours on stand saturdsy and sunday#i thought of it on saturday 20 mins in. so this concept has been in my brain for a while#anywayyy im thinking she had some pretty high profile eddie aikau type saves and got a little famous off that#AND is always offering to help people#so for the sake of writing another tragic athlete yuri ch4: i think the victim in her case is someone who is adamant about not wanting help#like a woman playing a sport typically seen as being manly (american ‌foot‌ball rug‌by wrestlin‌g etc etc)#im imagining shes from a family of pretty good (male) athletes and is constantly dealing with comparisons to portray her as weaker#she wont accept help or medical assistance because she thinks it makes her weak. which is a trait female characters should have more#so you get two really valid worldviews and its debatable whether the victim actually needed medical assistance/help or if it#just made things worse#anyway im imagining the ending of the previous chapter shows a black screen with#'unknown: hey hey are you okay?'#and ms life guard tries to give her situationship a slightly dignified resting place so we dont discover the body for a little while#not too long but a little while#actually i think the lifeguard killing the athlete with chest compressions would make a really compelling scenario#where the actual person with murderous intent was someone who poisoned or near-fatally hit the athlete#and they get to walk free (under extreme suspicion from other students) while the girl who got sooo close to saving her dies#lifeguard could be someone whos easily distracted but locks in while on duty to the point where shes like a different person#but slipping up and breaking the athletes rib (or whatever) was her one moment of panic#because she cared about the victim on a personal level#i neednto be sedated so i shut the fuck up. tomorrow is the first day of school bro#i DID say i had 10 hours to think about this
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specshroom · 6 months
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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*
Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?
In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄
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You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.
The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.
Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.
The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.
Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.
"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.
He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.
"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"
The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.
"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"
Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.
"Hey!"
"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.
You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,
"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."
The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.
"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.
It's quiet for a minute until you ask.
"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."
The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.
"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."
"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.
"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.
"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.
"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"
You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.
You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.
"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.
He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.
"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.
Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.
"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."
You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.
"You're serious?"
You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,
"This is what I do."
The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.
"Magic, I mean.... Magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.
"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."
"We?"
"Alright! Alright."
"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight little-"
Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.
"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."
"...Alright. That sounds good."
You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."
"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."
He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.
"Cmon. Sit."
You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.
"Now?"
He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.
"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."
You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best mates.
You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.
"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."
He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.
Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,
"can I sit?"
He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."
You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.
Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.
An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.
"That should do it."
You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.
"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."
Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"
He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.
"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."
Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.
"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"
You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.
Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.
You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.
This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"
You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.
You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.
You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.
You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.
"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.
"Nononono, Please no. Please."
Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.
"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.
"I need you."
Your heart jumps in your chest.
"I need you to fuck me...please."
You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.
"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."
"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"
You reach down to gently hold his massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.
All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.
"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling this human pussy up so good!""
You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.
"I've got you big guy."
You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.
Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.
You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.
You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.
After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.
You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.
"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,
"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."
You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.
"You're a size queen."
You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.
"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."
You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.
"Shut up, you're the one with the-"
"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."
Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.
"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"
He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.
"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"
You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.
"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"
"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."
You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.
"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."
He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.
You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.
"If you ask nicely."
He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.
You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.
"Please fuck me Grim."
Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.
You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.
He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.
It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.
You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.
You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.
He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.
Knock knock knock
You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.
Knock knock knock
"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"
The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.
"BOY! What do you want?!"
You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.
"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"
Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.
"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."
"But I was-"
"Tomorrow."
The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.
"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"
Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.
"Thank you for...helping out"
He says, quite genuinely.
"Anytime."
You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.
"Anytime?"
You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.
"Unbelievable."
You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.
"Just unbelievable."
You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.
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writers-potion · 4 months
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Writing Female Fighters
The Heroine Must. Fight.
Today's female protagonists cannot sit on the side crying and breaking down or whimpering as the battle ensues.
Readers want to see autonomous female fighters who can at least defense themselves with courage and adequate skill.
Not all women are the same, but the heroine should get her butt moving.
Less Muscle, but More Flexibilty
The average woman is shorter than the average man, which makes it more difficult to wield a long sword or slam something down on the opponent's head.
A woman who works out can plausibly be stronger than a male couch potato, but if her male counterpart works out as much as her, the man is going to be much stronger.
On the other hand, the center of gravity in a woman's body is lower than a man's which makes it harder to knock her off her feet.
She is also more flexible, which gives her advantage in grappling fights, making use of complex landscapes, or deflecting blows.
A woman's small size can also be an advantage if her opponent has only ever trained with male opponents. His big hands might not get a good grip on her slender limbs.
In historical fiction, giving your heroine good muscule build can be tricky as exercise was generally considered harmful for women, with some exceptions for horseriding any maybe archery at best.
In such cases, make your heroine an accomplished dancer or an eager horsewoman, or the only girl whose father considered to be son replacement and thus, gave her a boy's education.
Women of lower classes who couldn't afford to be fashionably weak will be plausibly stronger, perhaps even more than an idle gentleman.
More Room for Negotiation, but Prolonged Ruthlessness
In the Suspense part of your fight scene, females are more likely to negotiate and talk more, strategically trying to descalate the situation rather than attacking on a momentary impulse.
Generally, women are less aggressive than men and remain level-headed longer than her male counterparts, opting for non-violent methods first before using force.
Exceptions apply if she is trying to protect her children (or someone who she cares for as a child). Mothers can be tigresses.
A female pre-fight conversation may be: "If you had not done so-and-so and betrayed me with so-and-so, we could have been good friends as I thought we would be." "What do you mean? It was in fact you who brought bad blood between us. I can still hear you laughing with so-and-so, taunting me, purposefully making me look bad -" "But that was so long ago! If you want me to say sorry about something so insignificant, you should have just said so: I'm sorry. There. Satisfied?" "Ha! I can't believe you say that so easily. You still don't get it, do you?" "Who's being petty and unreasonable now?"
A male pre-fight conversation will be shorter: "Who's the coward now?" "You're wrong." "Prove it." "Bastard."
Compared to men, it will take more time for a woman's fight hormones (adrenaline, neurotransmitters and such) to kick in.
She would be slower to engage initially, throwing reluctant punches and thinking, but she'll grow more and more violent and lose all rational thought and compassion, and once she's in full flow, may not stop even when her opponent begs for mercy.
When writing a male-female duo, you can show him going for the first blow while she observes and strategizes first. When he's past his peak and panting, she is flying about left and right. Later when the tension wears off and she becomes wobbly and teary, she can rely on him to have recovered faster and distract other teammates so that they won't see her cry.
Plausible Skills and Backstory
In many cultures and time periods, the general attitude of society towards girls is that they have no place in fist fights or martial arts, unlike how it is encouraged for boys of the same age. So if your heroine has physical prowess that surpasses typical 'fitness' or is hidden, build a backstory of how she's obtained it.
For modern heroines, it can be as simple as signing her up for martial arts classes or yearly membership at the local gym. For historical fiction or girls with strict 'feminine' upbringing, it can be trickier.
It can be related to profession: maybe she was an erotic wrestler, catfighter, or an assasin who thought killing was more honorable than prostitution. They may have dabbles with it for a short time and is now trying to hide their past from their respectable employer or fiance.
It can be family backstory: Perhaps her mother was an accomplished martial artist or she had to fend for younger siblings on the streets from an early age. Maybe she was the only girl in a family of many boys who refused to be the punching bag.
Inexperienced Female Fighters
A woman with no fighting experience or training is likely to resort to one of these on instinct:
Try to talk herself out of the situation, attempting to persuade or negotiate for her life.
Grab something to use as a weapon. This instinct seems to be stronger for women than it is in men.
Use her hands to try and break free, or kick (often wth little success)
Pull hair
Scratch.
In a serious fight, pulling hair and scratching won't be helpful, except when the police come to find her body, they would find the opponent's DNA under her fingernails.
Plausible Weapons and Clothing
All of the above applies to scenes where both parties have no weapons, or has the bare minimum (like one dagger each).
Weapons are equalizers, and if your heroine is pointing a gun at her opponent she will definitely NOT hesitate to be the one to shoot first.
When giving your female character a weapon, choose one she can plausibly use. It would take an unusually brawny woman to wield a great medieval longsword.
For historical fiction, give your heroine something she'll plausibly own. Swords and firearm were a no-go for women, but archery was borderline acceptable.
For clothing starters, you definitely CAN NOT dress her in a tight miniskirt and chainmail bra with long, flowy hair and multiple silver chockers. Unless she's trying to seduce her way into her opponent's bedroom, and he has a chainmail bra fetish.
A practical heroine will have her thighs covered, preferably with leather but at least with fabric, since a lot of blood flows through the thighs and a slash would be critical.
She'll keep her hair tied, tucked under a helmet, braided back, etc. so that it won't impede her vision.
She'll support her breasts with a strong sport bra. In a historical eprioid, she'll either tie her breasts tight with a fabric bandage or support them with some kind of leather corset.
Invent a female version of male fighter clothing of the time you are writing about if it doesn't exist.
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xreader-writing · 2 months
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"who's in your top three for hotness in f1?"
✦ Summary: Y/n interviews some fellow drivers to find out who they think are the hottest in F1
✦ Pairing: F1 grid X Driver!Reader
✦ Characters: George Russel, Lando Norris, Toto Wolff, Daniel Riccardo, Charles Leclerc, Carlos Sainz and Y/n
A/n: I want to publish this for dayslol. Sorry, English is not my first language.
I found these gifs here, but I couldn't give credit, I'm sorry 😭😭
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"So George, who's in your top three for hotness in f1?"
"Just like that?" He says laughing to his friend who laughs along.
"Yes, let's answer that."
"Okay, hmm... I'll take first place, of course, second place I'll give it to you and... Lewis will take third place."
"At least I won second place." Y/n laughs and George agrees.
"I know some who will say your name for first place." He speaks with a mischievous smile.
"Who?" Y/n furrows her eyebrows and George rolls her eyes, smiling.
He approaches Y/n, which moves the microphone away from the body, George speaks in her ear, placing his hands in front of her face so others can't read his lips.
Y/n's eyes widen when she hears the big list her friend is making, this scene would generate memes for a long time.
"That's enough George!" Y/n says pushing the pilot who laughs at her reaction.
"Fact, Those are facts!" He says laughing and Y/n can't help but laugh along
"These are not facts, thank you for giving us a little bit of your time Mr Russel.
George smiles and waves to the camera.
"Okay, let's try to find more pilots" Y/n says walking a little and the Cameramen follow her.
"Look, it's Lando, let's go... Landoooo!" Lando is distracted talking but smiles when he sees who was calling.
"Hi kitten." He says approaching Y/n and gives a slight smile to the camera.
"please tell us, what is your top three beauty in f1?" Y/n puts the microphone in Lando's mouth who seems very surprised.
"Okay, I think... I think Carlos will take third, I'll put myself in second and... You can take first place." Lando says awkwardly.
"I'm surprised Carlos isn't first."
"No, he is to be first for Ferrari friends." Y/n can't help but laugh at this.
"Or Williams friend" They talk at the same time and laugh about it.
"Thanks for that Lando, see you later." Y/n says laughing a little and leaves in search of more pilots.
"Oh look at Toto guys, let's go!" Y/n says excitedly and runs to him, before anyone pulls him to do something.
"Oh my God, no..." Toto says jokingly when he sees Y/n approaching smiling.
"Yes, Toto, I have a question that your answer will totally change our lives today." Y/n says trying to stay serious.
"I highly doubt it."
"Well... who's in your top three for hotness in F1?" Toto looks at her in disbelief.
"No, you didn't just-"
"Yes, I did, come on we need answers."
"I refuse to answer that.
"Yes you don't need to answer, we know that Christian horner It's in first place." Toto looks at Y/n in complete disbelief.
"What the fuck-"
"Please, this is a family atmosphere sir." Toto passes his hand over his face trying not to visualize a murder for Y/n.
"Don't you have anything else to do?"
"You're right, I should be looking for younger pilots, bye Toto!" Y/n says, moving away, and Toto smiles.
"That girl is terrible"
"Is there anyone in particular you want to talk to?" Y/n asks looking at the Cameramen.
"Maybe-" He is interrupted before he can finish.
"s/nl/n!!" They look and see Daniel Ricciardo coming with his typical smile.
"Daniel Riccardooooo!" Y/n smiles and Daniel comes to hug the pilot, rocking them both from side to side.
"Are you the reporter today?" he says, letting go of her and messing up her hair that he had messed up during the hug.
"I'm the reporter today, and since you're here, you'll be my victim."
"Oh no!" he jokes and they both laugh.
"So Danny, who's in your top three for hotness in f1?" Daniel smiles and looks up at the sky thinking for a bit.
"You can have all three seats, Sweet baby." The people around listening scream at this and Y/n really didn't expect that response.
"You can't do this!" She says, pushing him lightly.
"Oh I already did that!" He continues smiling at her embarrassment.
"Please Danny give us another answer." She begs her friend who shakes his head.
"No, this is my final decision."
"Okay, okay, we'll accept this today, thanks for the embarrassment Danny." She jokes and he hugs her again and she starts to walk away with the Cameramen.
"Love you!" He says watching her walk away.
"Love you too!"
"Okay, let's continue... who were you going to talk about before?" Y/n said as remembered that him was interrupted by Daniel.
"Charles Leclerc."
"Oh yes, Charles Leclerc, let's go after him." Y/n said walking faster and more objectively this time.
"Have you seen that video of the boy calling Charles? We can try that." Y/n says laughing and the Cameramen smiles along. "Oh no need, there's the man." Y/n approaches Charles, and touches his shoulder to get his attention.
"Mr. McQueen, would you like to answer some of our questions?" Y/n puts the microphone right in Charles' mouth who pretends to bite it.
"Do you still call me that?" He says laughing and hugging her by the shoulders.
"Yes forever, now... can you tell us your top three for the most handsome in F1?" Charles thinks for a moment and smiles at the camera.
"Well-"
"Of course I'm in first place, then Y/n and last, you, right Charles?" Carlos says, joining the conversation and appearing on the other side, making Y/n stand between the two.
"Why do you think you're number one on my list?" Charles says raising his eyebrows.
"Because I'm number one in your heart." Y/n looks at the camera rolling her eyes.
"Would that be your list Carlos?" Y/n says bringing the microphone closer to Carlos.
"No, you're at the top of my list hermosa"
"Ass kisser" Chalés says with a fake cough.
"What's your list Charles?" Y/n says turning the microphone to Charles.
"Okay, I'm first, Y/n is second and I'm going to put Pierre third." Carlos' eyes widen.
"Fuck you Chales!"
"WE'RE IN A FAMILY ENVIRONMENT!"
"At least I know I'm number one on Lando's list." Y/n looks at the camera, her mouth clenched shut to keep from laughing.
"Absolutely Carlos, absolutely." She pats Carlos on the shoulder, who doesn't understand.
"What does that mean?" Carlos looks serious and Y/n smiles mischievously.
"Nothing Carlitos, nothing..."
"And your list Y/n?" Charles smiles.
"No, I'm just the reporter today."
"Let's go there, we want to know." Chales says trying to take the microphone from Y/n's hand.
"Stop it Charles!" Y/n says pulling the microphone back, and the two start a playful fight.
"Stop kids." Carlos says trying to take Y/n's hands away from Charles' hair.
This will get a lot of views
"well, we'll end it here, but maybe we'll do a part two with the other pilots, thanks for watching, bye." Y/n smiles and waves to the camera Along with Carlos and Charles.
"And... cut!"
"I love you Y/n."
"I love you too Charles."The two hug, and Carlos rolls his eyes.
"I don't get paid for this." Carlos sighs.
Bonus - Some comments that were published.
User1 "I wonder who George was talking about..."
User2 "I wish I had what she and Charles have...
User3 "Someone to pull your hair?"
User4 "I think Lando likes her"
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breadbrobin · 9 months
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call it what you want
luke castellan x reader — percy jackson and the olympians
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[fem!daughter of aphrodite reader]
summary: he fell first, you fell harder, and all at once.
warning: tooth-rotting fluff. literally i think that’s it it’s just sickeningly cute
word count: 2.1k
(the luke brainrot is so real i wrote this at like 4am last night plsss)
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luke castellan thought you could have hung the stars in the sky. he wouldn’t know any different, nor would he care to find out. in his mind, you were perfect. the most perfect, in fact.
there was one person that no one could hate at camp, and that was you. a friend to all who’d have you, a sister to those who needed you, and whatever you were to luke.
not even you understood the nature of your relationship with him.
years of friendship slowly became changed, twisted, slightly more than you’d bargained for. it was a happy change. realising you were in love with luke castellan was an ever-continuous process—a little one day, a little more another. but for luke… gods, realising he was in love with you came as easy as breathing. every smile on your lips, every laugh, every surreptitious look across rooms set his heart aflame. fluttering, dancing, swirling.
it wasn’t like you didn’t love him. you did. you surely did. but time hadn’t been kind to your heart and children of aphrodite have never been truly lucky in love. helping others achieve their loves was more common. more often than not, you and your siblings were happy with just that.
“anyone you got your eye on?” you asked one day as you sat with luke on the dock. your bare feet dangled into the water, toes just touching the cool surface.
“maybe. maybe not. when are you leaving?” he avoided the question, gazing out at the water and squinting in the glare of the sun.
“two weeks. i’m staying for my birthday this year.” you looked over at him. “you can tell me who it is, you know? i won’t laugh, i promise.”
he shot you an exasperated look. “what makes you think there is someone, princess?”
you lean over and nudge his arm teasingly, missing the blush on his face. “you’ve been distracted lately. quiet. you smile more though, and i’ve seen you blushing. who is it?”
“maybe i’m sick. what if i’m dying, y/n? then what? you’re assuming i’m in love when i’m actually dying?”
you raised your hands mockingly. “hey, you’re the one who mentioned love, pal. not me. ask yourself about that one.”
he rolled his eyes and elbowed you gently with a soft smile. his smiles were always soft, you realised. gentle and kind—two words you’d use to describe luke castellan any chance you got. you looked at him in the sunlight. and pretty, you thought. gentle, kind and pretty.
late nights were always for thinking.
you’d had trouble sleeping since you were a kid. not just the typical demigod issues with nightmares, but difficulty falling asleep in the first place. when those times struck, and the late hours before midnight slipped by, your thoughts wandered.
as always, your thoughts circled a few items; your family, your friends, then, always, luke.
he was separate to your friends, always had been. you didn’t really know why.
gentle, kind and pretty, you recalled. it had been a few days since the lake and you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about who he was in love with. was there some person out there at camp who held his heart, truly and deeply? why did your chest ache? were you having a heart attack?
you pressed your fingers to your pulse point in concern, then pulled them away after a few seconds. you were fine. why did you feel like that?
no one ever said children of aphrodite weren’t oblivious to their own feelings.
time ticked by into the small hours of the morning, and still you couldn’t find sleep.
you rolled out of bed and stepped into your slippers, pulling a fluffy robe around your body and stepping out into the warm night. the air was still and calm, a juxtaposition to your whirling mind as you crossed the camp, stepping down paths and stepping over tree roots in a manner you’d memorised from countless treks on similar nights.
the hermes cabin was always warmer than your own, but tonight the heat was almost stifling. you could feel the heat heavy in the air as you breathed, and sweat beaded on your lip as you crossed the cabin silently to luke’s bed.
he was sleeping half sitting up, a colouring book and set of pencils splayed out on his lap. it was one you’d bought him for his birthday years ago. you had no idea he even used it.
quietly, you packed away the pencils and put them and the book on the side table. as you did, luke’s eyes cracked open. he frowned.
“y/n? are you okay?” he rubbed his eyes, sitting up straight and stretching his neck.
“can’t sleep,” you whispered.
he nodded and pushed his sheets off. he pulled a sweatshirt on and led you out of the cabin.
this was normal for you both. if one couldn’t sleep, you’d find the other and keep each other company until you felt you could rest. it was always nice knowing someone was there to talk to, or even just sit with. there was never resentment, never irritation from the other person. you would always come find each other. finding each other was like second nature to the two of you. you swore you could find luke in any situation, with your eyes closed, all your senses blotted out, by instinct and connection alone. you could find luke castellan without even a second thought.
you sat on the porch of the cabin with your legs hanging over the edge. luke’s legs were crossed.
“what are we doing for your birthday?” he asked finally.
you shrugged. “nothing, probably. maybe i’ll get some cake. i don’t know.”
“you didn’t do anything last year,” he protested. “you need to this year. it’s the big 18.”
“we didn’t do much for your eighteenth.”
he shrugged. “we did more than nothing, though, pretty girl. come on, we have to do something.”
you shook your head. “you wanna do something, you can plan it, pretty boy. i don’t mind.”
he sighed dramatically, leaning back and lying down on the rough wood. “fine. i will.”
you laughed quietly and lay back next to him, staring up at the wooden overhang above you.
you could feel his body heat against your arm as it lay between you. he was like a furnace, honestly, always radiating heat. it was nice in winter, but oftentimes stifling in summer. this was not one of those times. instead, you revelled in the closeness between you and almost—selfishly, confusingly—wished you were closer. maybe even close enough to touch.
your birthday was a quiet affair. your siblings wished you happy birthday and gave you a handful of small gifts, mostly beauty products and clothes that would fit you perfectly, even a cute bikini you put on under your clothes, and then you all went on with your day.
it was nice, honestly, getting well wishes but little attention. you needed no celebration or pizzazz, just friends, smiles and the occasional hug.
arms wrapped around your waist from behind. you yelped in shock and turned around, finding yourself face to face with luke. he had a bright smile on his face and a smudge of glitter on his cheek.
you reached up and ran your finger over it, trying gently to remove some to no avail. “you have glitter.”
“i have glitter everywhere. i guess that’s what you get for asking one of my siblings for wrapped paper.” he removed his arms from your waist to reveal a poorly wrapped gift in purple glittery paper.
you laughed, taking it. “i’m surprised you haven’t got more of it on you.”
“oh, believe me, princess, i do.” he cringed, stepping back slightly. “happy birthday.”
you smiled up at him and opened the present, ignoring the glitter sticking to your hands and the warmth in your chest and cheeks.
he thought you looked like the sun had come down to earth.
it was a colouring book and a set of pencils. you smiled widely and flipped through the pages, revealing beautiful art. “you remembered i wanted one?”
“yeah, mostly because you kept stealing mine to colour in,” he teased. “but of course i did.”
you reached out and hugged him. “thank you, luke!”
“come on,” he pulled back and took your hand. “present isn’t done yet.”
“what have you planned?” you groaned half-heartedly as he pulled you through camp, jogging slightly to keep up with his long strides.
“don’t sound so scared, princess, it’s a good thing. i promise.”
you just sighed with a smile and let him lead you to the dock.
there was a small basket at the end of it.
you gasped excitedly. “luke, you…”
“happy birthday, y/n.” he sat down and pulled you gently down to sit next to him. he opened the the picnic basket and handed you a sandwich and a mini juice box with a bashful grin. “i would’ve sprung for coke but mr d. has a monopoly on the stuff around here.”
you laughed slightly and began eating, sitting cross-legged and looking out at the lake. the sun beat down on your back and your entire body felt warm. you suddenly weren’t sure how much of that warmth was from the sun, and how much of it was from love.
love.
whoa.
you froze with your juice box halfway to your lips.
luke looked over at you. “you okay?”
you nodded slowly, eyes wide, and set down your juice and sandwich. “i wanna swim.”
he frowned. “okay? now?”
you nodded and stood up. you were wearing your new bikini anyway, so you just pulled your shirt over your head and dropped your shorts next to it. “you coming?”
his eyes were slightly wide, but he nodded and stood up, setting his food down too and removing his over clothes.
you sat down on the dock and slid into the water. it was cold, but more refreshing than shocking. you swam out a few paces as luke jumped in directly, the splash hitting you.
“luke!” you gasped as he surfaced.
he just laughed. “sorry, princess. you’re in the water anyway.”
you pouted at him, but couldn’t stay mad, instead, you watched him as he floated a few feet from you.
he looked confused. “are you okay? was it the sandwich?”
you shook your head. “the sandwich was fine. i’m just…” you pursed your lips and swam slightly closer. “was it me?”
he frowned even deeper. “was what you?”
“when i asked you the other day, you said you were in love with someone. was it me?”
you felt a little bad for putting him on the spot as he looked away, abashed, but when he looked back at you, eyes strong and jaw set, and said, “yes,” you didn’t regret a thing.
“why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.
“why not?” he shrugged. “why does the sun shine? why does the wind blow? just because that’s the way things are. and i guess… yeah, me being in love with you is the way it is.”
you were silent for a moment, a small smile on your face. “well, that’s good then. i’m not sure how long this has actually been a thing, luke castellan, but i guess that me being in love with you is also… just the way it is.”
he swam slightly closer, a smile breaking across his face. gentle, kind, pretty. “yeah?”
“yeah, pretty boy. now kiss me. it’s my birthday, after all.”
“yes ma’am,” he grinned. one of his hands slid around your waist, warm as ever in the cold water, and he pulled you closer to him. he savoured the moment for a beat, just studying your face, memorising the look in your eyes, the sun on your skin and the soft smile on your lips. then he pressed his lips to yours.
you finally understood what people meant when they said ‘fireworks’. they were right. kissing luke was like playing with fire or dancing in the rain, or watching christmas lights twinkle. it was exhilarating, sweet and safe all at the same time; pure and honest love. and he was one damn good kisser.
when he pulled away you were out of breath, treading water still. you swam backwards, pulling him with you by the hand on the back of his neck until you were in the cool shade of the dock, using it to keep you afloat. it was much colder under there, but at least now you had him to keep you warm.
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violet-eng · 8 months
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F!reader spoils Lil Dragon!Zhongli... at first | Fluff🧸 (with dragon)+ 🔞 (with human Zhongli)
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🎨by: @nagarnia_art and @JeanGreyCG
Summary: You're doing some research in the woods, looking for certain minerals, when you feel some tiny tiny eyes staring at you. After Zhongli morpps from a dragon to a human, things get a bit... hot...
Tw: with human Zhongli smut 🔞, PIV. Insinuations of breeding season, with dragon Zhongli just some cute Dragon behavior bc I ended up traumatized after writing some angst.
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Your research is going well. Your reports to the Fontaine Science Institute were successful during your last expedition, earning you praise from your superiors. You have been living in Liyue for over six months. After learning about minerals that can emanate energy, you sought out information to educate yourself on the subject. 
The rocks in Liyue seem to have a memory, possibly due to the work of their Archon or as a natural result of high evolution and energetic vestiges from ancient wars. 
Zhongli, the Parlor consultant, had told you about a spot at the foot of a valley that might interest you, and you were amazed. You had no reason to doubt the man's wisdom. You had formed a deep bond of friendship with him because you admire his extensive knowledge about everything. You set off almost immediately. He had offered to accompany you, but you had refused because you prefer to do your research alone, surrounded by nature and away from the attractive distraction that Zhongli could become.
Your friend is attractive, in a way that you tried to express in your letters to your friends at Fontaine, but never succeeded. Your banal words and names do not do justice to the physique of this man of unshakable character, steely sense, and tenacious gaze. You could not bear to make a mistake in his presence during the expedition, not because you were clumsy, but because his figure moved your senses, your ground, and betrayed your own perceptions.
So, as you walk through a pleasant area of foliage, covered by the fierce, scorching rays of the sun, you decide to let your guard down, to take off your jacket and your gloves. You use a ribbon to tie up your hair as you walk on, arriving at the place Zhongli had shown you beforehand. The passage is strangely comfortable, very suitable for a quiet investigation, full of strange figures of small rocks of irregular and curious shapes.
Under the canopy of large trees, you spread out your arsenal of tools on the grass, put on your protective visors, and get to work. Sequencing the rock profile takes little time, your agile skills allowing you to avoid unnecessary pauses or clumsy backtracking typical of an amateur. Then you take the samples, tiny particles that do not alter the correct and productive nature that King Geo has protected for years, and while you wait for the filtering to finish, a strange sensation runs down your spine.
You had let your guard down during your experiment, letting the peaceful appearance of the place convince you, something very unprofessional on your part. So you turn to the side and feel a presence. Among the bushes, you spot a pair of curious little spheres, and you jump as the leaves rustle in the presence of an unknown being. 
A deep relief washes over you as the creature in question appears on the scene. A small dragon, microscopic in physiognomy compared to adult forms, with curious eyes and a golden tail twisted into a spiral. Its little paws make furrows in the ground, its face dejected, as if it had been caught doing something illegal.
"Little one, have you been watching me all this time?" You ask the cute little creature, who hides his head between his front paws, realizing he can't do it with his tail, which isn't long enough.
"Come here, don't be afraid of me," you whisper, approaching it cautiously, holding out your hands.
The dragon gathers itself in its own anatomy, growling low, sounding almost like a common cat, you can't help but laugh at it. You bring your fingers up to the growling pellet and stroke its head, right between its underdeveloped horns. You notice a puff of breath coming from the little guy's nose.
"How cute, you liked that, didn't you?" you laugh as you stroke his head and then his back, causing the miniature dragon's tail to wag.
"Come, sit with me, we'll have to wait a long time until the filtering is finished," you take him in your hands, on your palms.
"Wow... I've never seen one of your species so small... and those scales," you comment, bringing your face close to the reptile's, "I'd swear you have very, very soft skin, you're very rare, uh," you add, while you turn to your tools, which emit a strange smell.
You leave the dragon on the ground and approach your machinery, no, nothing out of place... well, now you can turn your attention to the little guy who... what is he doing?
You notice the tiny creature rubbing against your foot, making strange squeaks. It's... it's mating with your shoe? You burst out laughing and shake your foot, pushing it away and picking it up again.
"You horny little bugger," you say, poking him in the nose, "I forgot that your species is in mating season. I regret to inform you that you will get nowhere with me, I am not of the same species... ours is impossible."
A sad sigh escapes from the little animal's chest, and you notice how its whole face becomes depressed, its horns and ears seem to droop in deep disappointment.
"Don't cry," you say, putting it on the ground in the grass and lying down in front of it, "we can play if you want, to distract you a little”.
That got his attention, because he looked at you again. He walks up to you with his little paws and puts one on your nose, he starts to sniff you with that little button in the middle of his little face.
"Ohhh... do you want a little kiss?" you ask, flooded with tenderness, "I would do anything to make you happy" you say, placing a tender kiss on the dragon's forehead. Is like a puppy...
The dragon retraces his steps, accelerating and rolling his head in madness. You see him writhing in place, as if he had suddenly fallen ill, and then... poof... a golden flash and a trail of smoke,  ike the one he had just exhaled through his nose. A faint wave of heat and a faint smell of sulfur as a figure began to form behind the column of smoke.
You straightened up in your seat as the column disintegrated, revealing the very embarrassed image of Zhongli, covering his mouth as he coughs, with traces of smoke and golden flames escaping from his throat.
He is wearing little clothing, a tunic of the same color as the skin of the dragon you spoke to earlier... is that perhaps...? 
"You," you point an accusing finger at Zhongli, and he looks at you with flushed cheeks, "what was that? Aren't you going to say anything about it?" you say to the man, appearing to be annoyed, although in reality, seeing him in that outfit has aroused something pleasurable in you.
"Well?" you insist.
"Are you going to give me that kiss or?" he interjects, his voice still weak and embarrassed.
His embarrassment fades for the next hour, during which he relentlessly thrusts himself into you, waiting for your boring explorer machine to end.
The filtering of the rocks continues, the particles falling into the vessel like sand in a crystal clock. The small machines emit tiny clicks and a faint plume of smoke and gas. The rumble of the cycle's drumbeat advances in rhythm with your moans as you feel Zhongli sink deep into you.
You lie on the grass, your pants and panties around your ankles, your hands on your head clinging to the foliage, your waist encircled by Zhongli's large hands holding you steady so he can work his way into your pussy. You feel his pelvic bone against your center, his balls against your skin, and then he pulls away to enter again. Gently, lovingly, afraid to break you and hurt you. He's painfully slow, but how good it feels.
You hear him make low, rasping noises as faint plumes of smoke rise from his nose, as when he looked like a dragon. His cock twists inside you, slapping against your cervix, massaging your wet, warm depths that mold to the shape of his member. You feel the warmth rush down your legs, an electric current coursing through every fiber of your limbs, your chest heaving in desperation.
The orgasm hits you both at the same time, decorating Zhongli's cock with a white ring as his cum spills into you like thick ropes from his ecstasy. He pulls back your panties and pants, leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek.
"May I mark you?" he asks with a look of honor, his face sublime and devoted.
"Don't even think about it," you say, joining in, noticing the sadness in his eyes, "we weren't even supposed to do it. It was just supposed to be a kiss and that's it," you seem to scold him, though it's you who's scolding yourself for being so unseemly and impetuous, though damn... you've enjoyed it so much... ....
Sensing your hostile tone, Zhongli wraps himself up and immediately transforms into his small reptilian form.
"Please stop being so dramatic," you express, leaning against one of the tree trunks and letting out a laugh. "Come back... I don't want to wait alone," you say, crossing your legs and putting your jacket down.
Zhongli, the dragon, approaches you with short steps, due to the length of his small legs, and climbs onto your lap, where he rubs the fabric of your coat, nestling into the fabric to take refuge, and lets out a yawn before closing his eyes and settling down for a nap. You stroke his back and coo to the little creature, feeling him purr like a cat.
"How cute you are when you sleep," you laugh, stroking his nose, causing him to bite your finger, "did you just mark me without my permission?" You ask, but he just squeals and jumps off your lap, looking for a way to escape. You catch him with your coat and throw it at him like a fleeing rat, but he manages to escape and hide in the bushes... you don't see him again for the rest of the afternoon, but you know that when you return to Liyue Harbour you will demand an apology, an explanation... and maybe a round two.
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peachessndreamss · 15 days
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Wolfswood
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Summery : Cregan receives an injury while out hunting, his wife cares for him
Characters : Cregan Stark x f!wife reader (no use of Y/N)
Warnings : Cannon typical injury and first aid/wound care, cannon typical hunting
Word count : 4k
A/N : Cregan Stark I love yooou. Also, apologies in advance if this is the most boring thing you've ever read.
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Winter had arrived with devastating speed and brutality in the North. The first heavy snowfall had destroyed the last remaining crops left out in the fields and the woodpiles stacked as high as two men and just as wide had looked like enough to see them through two winters but soon began to deplete at an alarming rate. 
And when a great boar had been sighted at the edge of the Wolfswood, Lord Cregan Stark quickly called the men of his house to a hunt, knowing it was better to find the creature now and make use of it rather than let it be starved by the winter. 
They had set out in the pre-dawn, 10 men of House Stark, wrapped in layers of leather, wool and fur, mounted on the most surefooted horses the Winterfell stables had to offer. Lord Stark rode at the front of the group, his steward and close friend Martyn Snow riding beside him, the two of them talking as they disappeared from sight. 
Once in the Wolfswood Lord Stark had led the hunt, first on horseback as they tracked the creature deeper into the cover of the dense wood and then on foot, when the terrain had become too dangerous for the horses and the boar needed to be harried out of its hiding place.
Cregan had been moving slowly north, stepping over tangles of brambles and avoiding tree roots thicker than his thighs, the men of the group formed a large crescent shape as they moved slowly, hopefully driving the animal toward a clearing. One of the men at the end of the line gave a sharp whistle to indicate the group should stop, instinctively his head moved toward the sound and in that split second of distraction Cregan missed the rustling of dead leaves and the heavy breathing of an animal charging. 
The great tusk of the boar gored his left thigh. Cutting deeply through the skin to the muscle beneath, bright red blood immediately falling to the leaves at his feet. The power of the blow from the animal knocked him off his feet and sent him slamming into the cold ground, the back of his head knocking hard against a tree root. The metallic stink of blood filled his nose as shouts went up from the men of the household, they abandoned the hunt and gathered around their injured lord. 
“Get the beast,” was all he managed to say before the wintery sunlight faded from his view and he wasn't aware of pain or cold anymore. 
Lady Stark watched the hunting party return from the covered walkway between the Great Keep and the Armory. She expected to see Cregan leading the party, a triumphant smile on his cold reddened face with the great beast slung over the back of his stallion. 
Instead it was Cregan's steward, Martyn, who galloped in at the front of the procession, his horse wet with sweat, its nostrils flaring as it snorted. The animals rider didn’t look much better, the steward’s face was fearful and the same colour as the bark of the weirwood tree, his pale brown leather jerkin was darkened with blood. 
“My lady,” he called when he saw her watching, “Lord Stark’s been hur’, cut by the boar. Please send for the maester,” 
His words caused a lump of ice to form in her stomach, chilling her from her heart outward. There was always a risk when the men went hunting, and more often than not her husband returned home with some small injury or another but this had to have been serious. As she dashed into the Great Keep she caught sight of a wagon being drawn by two great horses, on the bed of the wagon a tangle of fur and blood, she fought a wave of nausea at the sight and ducked inside the keep. 
Her feet were light and silent as she reached the maester’s chambers, not bothering to knock on the old man’s door she threw it open with a crash. 
The maester was startled by her sudden interruption, jumping up from his stool at the desk with surprising speed and agility for a man who was nearing 70. He opened his mouth, ready to scold whoever had so rudely burst into his rooms, but his words died on his lips. 
“Lord Stark’s been injured in the hunt,” she said, praying her voice didn't waver and give away the fear that was gripping her throat like a claw. 
“Injured how?” The maester replied, moving toward the large wooden sideboard that dominated the room. On the shelves were jars, bottles and boxes containing every substance needed by a maester, and probably a few they didn’t need as well. 
“Gored, I don't know where, they've just arrived back, please come now,” she said firmly, not willing to keep Cregan waiting. 
The maester nodded and gathered his heavy leather case from the side, the bag was filled with sharp tools and simple herbs and mixtures for most every day healing.  He followed behind Lady Stark as she led them to the undercroft of the Great Keep, where there was a great deal of noise and disruption. 
The undercroft was a dark, cool, enclosed space usually used for storage, most days it would only see one or two visitors but now it was alive as men lit torches around the walls while others heaved Cregan’s limp form onto the huge oak table that sat in the centre of the space. They stripped him out of his blood soaked outer clothes and left him lying in his linen shirt and woollen trousers. 
The left leg of his trousers was ripped open at the mid thigh, revealing a 5 inch gash, skin and muscle had been torn apart and glistened dark red. A tourniquet above the wound had stopped most of the bleeding but his face was ghostly pale and his lips an unhealthy shade of blue. 
Lady Stark moved slowly toward the head of the table where Cregan’s closed eyes made him look almost peaceful, the maester went straight to the wound and began cutting away at his trousers. 
“Has he been talking?” he asked as he began to inspect the wound more closely. 
“A little, but he was unconscious for a minute or so after it happened,” the steward replied, standing by Cregran’s right hip, wringing his hands together. 
“Hello my love,” Lady Stark said softly, brushing her hand over his forehead, willing herself not to fall to her knees and weep when she felt how cold his skin was. 
His grey eyes fluttered open and blinked slowly, trying to bring his wife’s face into focus, the world around him seemed to shift violently, left and right, up and down but her warm hand on top of his head held him steady. 
“Now, what have you been up to?” she asked softly, as if addressing one of their children. 
Cregan’s whole left leg throbbed painfully and his stomach roiled with nausea, he swallowed once, finding his mouth and throat dry. 
“It's barely a scratch,” he croaked. Lady Stark gave a small huff that might have been out of amusement and stroked her fingers over the crown of his head. 
“‘Tis a dreadful looking scratch,” she replied, “still, the maester’s here now,”. 
Cregan hissed with the pain as the maester applied a green tinged ointment to the wound. Sweat broke out all over his body and he felt his hands start to tremble. 
“Did they get the beast?” Cregan asked, once the initial wave of pain had passed and faded back into a constant throb. 
Lady Stark glanced at Martyn who gave a small nod of his head. 
“Of course, and you shall have the beast's head for your chambers if you want”. 
He gave what appeared to be a weak nod before closing his eyes again and taking a deep breath. Cregan had known pain before but dislocated shoulders, broken bones and the sharp bite of Valyrian steel were nothing compared to this. 
At his thigh the maester had soaked a small piece of linen in a clear, strong smelling substance that he placed over the wound before tightly wrapping a clean bandage before removing the tourniquet tied high up his thigh. As the blood was allowed to flow back into the lower leg the colour returned to the skin but there were no signs of excessive bleeding at the wound. The maeester turned his attention to Lady Stark. 
“It’s as clean a cut as we can expect from a tusk, most importantly there’s no sign of dirt within, I have great faith that it will heal well,” the maester explained, wiping his hands on a clean piece of linen that was tucked into the belt at his waist. 
“I'll go to my rooms now and make a poultice to fight infection and in the meantime he can be moved to his rooms to ensure he's comfortable,” he added. 
With a small nod from Lady Stark the men still standing around the room went into action, they brought a stretcher and carefully moved Cregan from the table to the stretcher. He was then carried slowly through the Keep and up to his rooms. The masters chambers were the largest but the least used within the Great Keep, Cregan and his wife favoured the smaller but warmer Lady’s chambers, especially as they were the closest rooms to the children’s rooms. 
Once he was settled on the bed she sent for two bowls of water and a cloth before stripping him of the last remaining pieces of clothing. Unable to lift him from the bed to get his shirt over his head she cut the fabric straight up the middle with a small knife, pushing the two halves over his chest and cutting the sleeves apart to expose his arms. She also had to cut away what was left of his trousers, finding some of the material stuck to his skin with blood. 
Once he was as bare as the day he’d been born she soaked the cloth in warm water and set about washing him. Somehow the blood had managed to get up to his neck and down to the bottom of his left foot. She started at his neck, watching as droplets of reddened water ran down onto his chest and collected in the dark mess of curls that started at his collar bone, completely covered his chest and then funnelled into a thick strip that ran all the way down his stomach to the apex of his thighs.  
“I swear you're more beast than man sometimes,” she said softly as she dabbed at his chest, lifting the blood from his skin and hair. 
“It's the wolf in me,” he replied softly. 
Her head snapped towards his face, she’d had no idea he was awake and seeing his soft gaze on her face brought a wave of emotion flooding through her body. The usual surge of love she felt whenever she looked at him, intense relief at seeing his cheeks a healthy flushed colour after how deathly pale he’d looked before and bubbling anger brought on by the extreme fear that still sat in her stomach like a block of ice. 
“The wolf couldn't smell the boar sneaking up on you?” She asked as she felt tears burn her eyes. Cregan offered her a small, reassuring smile. 
“The wolf is more,” he paused a second while he thought, “passive...”. 
Unable to resist him, Lady Stark felt herself smiling and the two of them shared a laugh before she continued to wash him, revealing the pale skin under the dark curls and dried blood. 
“You're lucky it wasn’t more serious,” she said softly as she wrung the red water out of the cloth into a mostly empty bowl before dipping the cloth back into clean water, “if it’d caught on the inside of your leg you'd have been dead before they got you home,” she added, an icy edge to her voice as the fear that had gripped her throat now throbbed behind her eyes. 
“But I wasn't,” he placated gently, reaching out and taking hold of her wrist as she dabbed at his stomach.
“I'm fine,” he added when he noticed the tears gathering in her eyes and the angry wobble of her bottom lip. 
She snatched the hand from his, throwing the cloth into the bowl of clean water at her feet. The water splashed up, catching the skirt of her dress. 
“And what if you weren't? What if you weren’t fine?  Your son is barely 9 months old Cregan, do you expect me to hold the entire North until he comes of age? Fighting off every grasping lord from The Wall to Dorne trying to get to him and steal his birthright?” An angry tear tracked down her cheek.
“I cannot be regent, Cregan, I cannot be here without you,”. 
He reached out again and took hold of her balled first at the wrist, bringing her hand towards his face, pressing a soft kiss to her curled fingers. 
“And nor will you be,” he said softly, his lips still touching her fingers, “you and I are going to grow very old together, so old they write songs about us when we're all but turned to dust,”. 
She gave a small, watery laugh through her tears and pulled her hand out of his again. 
“Now you're just placating me,” she said, reaching into the bowl for the cloth and ringing it out. 
“Of course I am,” he replied with a smile, stretching his right arm up and settling it behind his head, the bend in his arm causing his muscle to flex and bulge under his skin. Were it not for the bandage around his leg he would have looked as if he was just relaxing for the evening. 
“I understand well that my most important duty is keeping you happy,”. 
Lady Stark scoffed at him and returned to the gentle washing of his stomach. A small smile tugging up the corners of his lips as he watched her tending to him so carefully. He'd been in a fair few scrapes before this one and was always happy to be tended to by his wife, the mixture of her gentle hand and sharp words always made him feel better. 
“Am I permitted to say how I'm enjoying your undivided attention?” He asked. 
“You may not say it” she replied, flicking her eyes to his face and catching him grinning at her. 
“I shall just think it then,”. 
They both fell into a tense silence as her cloth inched closer to the bandaged wound. The maester had said he would come by later that day to stitch the wound closed once it had time to dry and he could be certain there was no rot. Sweat broke out across his body as her gentle touch began to feel like needles piercing his skin, he kept his jaw firmly shut, unwilling to let a single sound of pain pass his lips.
“Would you take something for the pain?” She asked, not needing to hear him cry out to know he was in great discomfort, she wrang the cloth out again wetted it with clean water again. 
“I would rather keep my wits,” he replied, his voice strained. 
“Then perhaps a little when we’re finished and you can rest?” She pressed. She knew he disliked the effects of milk of the poppy but seeing him in such pain made her heart ache. 
“Perhaps,” he nodded before pressing his lips tightly closed, redoubling his efforts to stay silent.
She finished his bed bath at his left foot, cleaning the dried blood from the bottom of his toes and the ball of his foot. And all the pain that had passed before paled in comparison to the agony he felt as her hands gently tended the most ticklish part of his body. He fought with every ounce of willpower to stay still and not curl his toes and kick his foot out of her hands. 
Once finished she rung the cloth out one final time before standing and carrying the two bowls of water across the room and setting them aside to be cleared away later. 
“Will you sleep for a while? She asked him, moving back toward him and running her hand over his forehead before drawing a soft woollen blanket over his nakedness. 
Cregan nodded, suddenly feeling exhausted and wanting nothing more than to close his eyes and sleep until the dawn of the summer. 
“Alright, will you take a little milk of the poppy?” she asked.
He nodded again, opening one of his eyes to peek at her face. 
“And a kiss to sweeten it?” He asked, letting the corners of his lips quirk up just a touch. 
She laughed softly, taking the small bottle of white milky liquid from the table beside their bed. She unstopped it and helped him lift his head off the pillow, she held the bottle to his lips while he took a small swallow before dropping his head back onto the pillow with his eyes closed. 
“And to make it sweet,” she said, bending and pressing her lips to his. 
As she stood he opened his eyes again although she could already see he was fighting the effects of the milk of the poppy. 
“Kiss the babies for me as well?” he asked. 
“Of course,” she replied, stroking his forehead again and watching his eyes close as he finally gave in and allowed himself to be dragged into a dreamless sleep. 
She watched him for a few minutes, keeping an eye on the steady ride and fall of his broad chest. In sleep he always appeared to be younger, his features softened as sleep took away the worries and the duties he carried on his shoulders every day. 
Once she was happy he would sleep for a while and there was nothing else she could do for him, Lady Stark went in search of Martyn the steward, she knew he would be worried and was waiting for news of his lord and friend. 
She found him outside the stables, running a brush over Cregan’s stallion. 
“Is he alright?” Martyn asked as she approached him. There was a panicked edge to his voice and his face betrayed his worries. 
“He'll be fine,” she soothed with a nod, “he's made of strong stuff,” she added as she placed a comforting hand on his forearm. 
“I'm sorry he was hurt, my lady,” he said, already looking lighter knowing Cregan was alright. 
“You've nothing to be sorry for, he's a man grown and it's his own fault if he doesn't hear a boar sneaking up on him,” she said, making her voice playful and teasing. 
“I'll pray for him,” the steward said, returning to brushing the huge grey horse that stood patiently in front of him.
“Thank you, I know he'll appreciate that,”. 
She stayed talking to the steward a little longer, the two of them discussing how to make the best of the creature that’d been killed that morning. The sky was quickly darkening and the air turning colder by the minute, although no new snow had fallen that day there was a crisp smell of it on the air and dark, heavy clouds covered the sky, threatening a heavy snowfall that night. 
She left Martyn to his final tasks for the day and returned to The Great Keep, she went first to the nursery to look in on their children. The eldest, Aly, was playing on the floor with her nurse, the two of them racing carved wooden animals across the floor. She paid no attention to her mother when she entered the room, too caught up in her game, while their son slept in his cradle. 
She lifted the boy from his crib and carried him to a chair beside the fire where she sat, focusing on nothing other than the small sound of his breathing and the tiny movements as his chest expanded and contracted with every breath. 
After a few minutes Aly got up from her spot on the carpet, her wooden horse still clutched tightly in her small hand as she walked toward her mother. 
“Where's papa?” She asked, coming to stand beside the chair, reaching out her own empty hand to take her mothers. 
“Resting, the men went hunting this morning, do you remember?”. 
“Will he put me to bed?” Aly asked, letting the toy horse drop from her hand with a small thud. 
“Not tonight, I can do it tonight,” Lady Stark replied. 
The girl sighed heavily, like she'd received some truly dreadful news, her small shoulders slumping. 
“But Papa tells the best bedtime stories,”. 
“I know he does, and I’m sure he’ll have a very special one for you tomorrow night,”. 
After another heavy sigh Aly climbed up into the chair with her mother and younger brother, curling into Lady Starks chest and closing her eyes. The girl found a loose thread on the bodice of her mothers dress and begin to twist it around her finger, in a few minutes she too has slipped off to sleep. 
The warm weight of her children soothed the Lady’s fractured nerves, this wasn't the first time her husband had returned home injured, his body was a tapestry of scars, each one she'd lovingly touched and kissed in turn, learning his scars as closely as a traveller learns a map. 
When she heard the first spatterings of wet snow from the nursery window Lady Stark decided it was time for her to look in on her patient. Calling the nurse over and letting the young woman take the sleeping girl from her lap. 
“Let her sleep a few more minutes, then wake her or she’ll never sleep tonight,” Lady Stark instructed as she stood and carried her small son back to his crib. 
“And I'll be back to feed this one once I've looked in on Lord Stark,” she added, lowering him into the cradle and watching as he settled. 
The nurse nodded and smiled softly as she lowered Aly onto her day bed, covering the girl with a soft embroidered blanket. 
Cregan didn’t stir when the heavy oak doors of his chambers were opened and his lady wife stepped inside, she paused, watching him for a few moments to see that his condition was unchanged, the only difference was that he’d thrown the blanket off his body and was now lying naked, his whole body exposed to the cool air. Moving toward him she noticed his breathing was still easy and his cheeks were a healthy colour. She touched the back of her hand to his cheek and then his forehead. 
At her touch his eyes flicked open and he blinked slowly as the world around him came into focus. He made a small sound of approval that rumbled up deep from his chest as his eyes focused on his wife. 
“How are you feeling?” She asked softly. 
“Better for seeing you,” he replied, his voice gravelly. 
“You're a dreadful flirt Cregen,” she replied with a smile, knowing his ability to flirt was a far better indication he was on the mend than anything else would be. 
“Come lie with me,” he said, choosing to ignore his wife's chastisement.
“Only for a few minutes,” she replied, moving to the other side of the bed and climbing on it, settling herself beside him and placing her head on his shoulder. 
He wrapped one arm around her shoulders and encouraged her to roll onto her side, tightening her body to his in a familiar and comfortable way and she sighed contentedly. Her hand rested on his chest, her fingers pushing and playing with the dark curls of hair. Cregan turned his head and placed a soft kiss on her forehead, feeling the warmth of her body sink into his own flesh and bones. 
“I should ban you from future hunts,” she said, her voice muffled by having her face squashed on his shoulder, “make you take an oath never to put yourself in such danger again,”
“Even for you, I could not swear such an oath,” he replied, kissing her forehead again and keeping his lips pressed to her skin, breathing in the familiar and comforting scent from her hair. 
The two lay in silence for several minutes, Lady Stark listening to the steady and deep drum beat of his heart, the thumping sound reminding her that he was still alive, injured but alive and home with her and in their private moment it was easy for her to believe that was the only thing that mattered in all the known world. 
“But I can swear, it will only be death that keeps me from you,”.
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wheneclipsefalls · 3 months
Text
Little Gift - Latch
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Neteyam photo by @cinetrix
Pairing: Dark Aged Up Neteyam x Human Fem Reader
Warnings: aged up characters, DUBCON/NONCON, kidnapping, MDNI EXPLICIT, yandered qualities, possessive behavior, slight degradation, interspecies intimacy, swearing, power imbalance, sub reader, dom Neteyam, manipulation, hair pulling, creampie, a lot more stuff but at this point you hopefully know whether or not you should read haha
Summary: Victory is finally his and Neteyam knows exactly how he wants to celebrate it.
A/N: A little unsure about my word choice but it's been fun writing from Neteyam perspective for the first time in this series. Enjoy!
Main Masterlist I Little Gift Masterlist
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You belong here, perched on his lap with your head notched against his shoulder. So small and pretty that his legs barely register your body weight. He wraps a hand around your outer thigh to angel you further against him. This is perfect.
Everything is perfect. 
Pandora has rid of those Sky Demons and his prize, his little gift, is still here in his arms where you will always be. Those traitors are no longer here to tempt you with false promises of escape and a life outside of belonging to the Olo’eyktan. You may not realize it now but they would have broken you. It is only a miracle from Eywa that has allowed your beautiful spirit to stay in tack after all those years of inhabiting the same space as those treacherous creatures. 
The RDA may think that you are a gift given by them but in reality it is Eywa that has placed you on his lap.
You were created for him. Designed perfectly inside and out. 
His reward for all that he has had to endure. 
Now with you safely tucked in his arms and his People celebrating their freedom once more, he can rest. He is free to savor all that the Great Mother has offered him, although you prove to be difficult to rangle at times. That’s okay, he enjoys a good challenge. It makes your earned submission all that more satisfying. 
He’s not sure how long one human can cry for but it appears you are shooting for a record. Your tears have soaked the feathers of his Olo’eyktan attire but he doesn’t mind, not when you are snuggling into him for comfort. 
His plan of distraction worked wonders during take off but it was only a matter of time before your mind came back online and began worrying once more about the absence of people that never truly loved you. It’s to be expected however Neteyam is pleased to find that your response is not one of anger but sadness and seeking refuge. He couldn’t have asked for anything more ideal. 
He is your refuge, your one true home and the fact that you are learning that so quickly makes a sense of pride burst within him. 
The glittering gems of your new top compliment your own sparkling tears exquisitely. It had taken weeks for him to make but it was worth it. He would want nothing less for his pet on a night of such grand celebration. However, it becomes abundantly clear that he is not the only one who appreciates the outfit. 
It’s the fifth time Lo’ak has turned in the direction of the throne while dancing to check on you. Or at least, that is how his younger brother would be sure to phrase it but Neteyam is no fool. He can see the hunger in those eyes. Typical of his younger sibling to chase after what he can not have. What Neteyam himself possesses. 
Their eyes meet and it only takes a moment for Lo’ak to recover from being caught and roll his own back at his brother and turn to continue dancing. He’s not sure how much longer this game will go on where Lo’ak pretends to hold no interest. One way or another it will come out. Neteyam’s arm tightens around your waist, fingers running through your silky hair. 
It is then that he notices your little sobs have stopped and are now replaced with long deep breaths. It’s amazing that you are able to sleep through the banging drums and echoing calls but it seems that all of your crying has worn out your poor little body. Such a fragile thing you are. 
All the more reason to keep you close. And yet another reason he finds his mind swirling back to the idea of keeping you on a leash. Ideally he would carry you to and fro but there are times where he needs to have his hands available. With your habit to wander off he can’t risk having you fall and break your little neck. A leash would be the perfect solution.
Not to mention how good you would look trailing behind him, sweet little bow around your throat as a permanent reminder of his claim on you. 
His tewng [loincloth] is unbearably tight. It presses against your soft thighs but that’s not enough. For perhaps the hundredth time you shift in his lap, unable to sit comfortably on your red ass. You’ve given up on trying to convince him to let you stand but that doesn’t stop that supple little pout from gracing your lips every time you are reminded of the pain. Even in your sleep you try to wiggle and squirm from his lap. 
Of course there is another source of your constant squirming. A source that Neteyam finds his fingers dipping down to trace over as the base just barely peeks out of your tight pussy. 
This plug is much larger than the cute one you had stowed away in your old nightstand drawer. It had taken more than a fair amount of encouragement to slot that thick piece of plastic inside your cunt but the sight was magnificent. Complain all you want but the way your walls clench around it in desperation tells Neteyam more than he needs to know. 
It’s the largest size of his collection which means that tonight is the night. Tonight you will officially become his. Your pussy will soon forever have the imprint of his thick length inside of you, ruining you for any other man. Not that you would ever have the chance to be with another male outside of him again. Jared was the end of that line and the Olo’eyktan feels no hint of remorse for taking care of that pest.
Another flash of Lo’ak’s gaze.
Neteyam feels you stir when he lets out a deep sigh. However reluctant he is, it’s important to set his brother straight. Lo’ak has an overactive imagination after all and the last thing he would want is his little brother’s curiosity and desire becoming an interruption for the wondrous night the two of you are about to have. 
Those long lashes flutter open, throat caught on a sharp intake when he stands up and places you back onto the seat. Your dazed and confused look is one that Neteyam can’t help but coo at, the pad of his thumb running over your cheek. 
“Mawey, tiyawn [be calm, love]. I will be right back.” You’re already scrambling to your knees, finally keeping the weight off of your sore bum. “Be a good girl for me and stay put, yes?”
It’s a rhetorical question and one that he doesn’t give you a chance to answer before a kiss is placed on your hairline and the Olo’eyktan is parting the crowd. It’s obvious that there is a moment where you consider stopping him. You may be hell bent on never admitting it verbally but the other Na’vi put you on edge and being around him has become your one constant, a safety you can rely on. If not for his urgency Neteyam would take his time in teasing you on the matter. 
Your face always looks even more lovely with that deep shade of red, whether from anger or embarrassment or even both. 
Later, he reminds himself.  
The female rubbing up against Lo’ak looks more than put out by his lagged reciprocation. Her displeasure colors into slight shock when she spots her Olo’eyktan coming straight towards them. Lo’ak crosses his arms as his partner quickly signs the proper respect to their leader. Neteyam dismisses her easily. 
“Excuse me, sister. I require a moment with my brother.” Neteyam ushers Lo’ak away from the scene before giving her a chance to respond or offer to give them privacy. 
The fire’s light now just barely humming over their skin. The two brothers find a moment of solace on the outskirts of the celebration. Neteyam’s ears still buzz from the sensory overload it has taken for the past few hours. 
“If you’re going to ask me for another favor can it at least wait until tomorrow? There is a party, you know.” Lo’ak tall frame lazily leans against the nearest tree and he attempts to hide the way his eyes fly over Neteyam’s shoulder towards you by making a show of tying his hair back. 
“Funny considering how eager you were to grant me a favor earlier this morning.” Neteyam’s veiny arms cross over his chest, tail whipping back and forth in the cool wind. If Lo’ak is intimidated he doesn’t show it. 
“Aren’t I a wonderful brother?” Those sharp teeth shimmer as he makes a show of giving an over the top sarcastic grin.
“Lo’ak.” Neteyam growls. 
“Jesus, calm down.” Lo’ak groans, head thrown back against the bark. “She’s still your little toy.” 
“I am not stupid, baby brother. I see the way you look at her.” 
“Whatever.” Lo’ak bristles and makes his way to stomp off but he is caught by the upper bicep. 
“I don’t want there to be any…confusion.” Silence spreads between them, the only sound being that of Lo’ak’s harsh exhale. 
“I was only watching.” He finally says, voice dropping lower. 
“And you are free to.” Small steps bring him further into his brother’s space. “But let’s be clear about whose permission you need in order to touch.” 
“And I didn’t.” His arm is ripped from Neteyam’s grasp. “I’ve only ever babysat the little brat and done all that you’ve asked of me. If you are looking for problems to address I would start with her running off at every given opportunity. Take a look for yourself!” He flails an exasperated arm in your direction but Neteyam doesn’t even bother to turn. 
“I am aware.” There is no need to look in order to know that you have once again tried your hand at another escape. He can see it in his mind’s eye now, your small body carefully hoisting itself down from the high throne. Panicked eyes racing over the crowd in search of any Na’vi that could potentially halt your actions. All that before short legs race off into the darkness. “I’m giving her a head start.” 
It’s best not to let you go too far. Eywa knows you are very skilled at finding new ways to put yourself in danger, but a little chase is an exhilarating experience. 
“Oh yeah, you going to make me chase after her for you too?” Lo’ak spits out, urging Neteyam to roll his eyes at his brother’s antics. He resists however, that wouldn’t be very becoming of the Olo’eyktan. 
“I fear you would enjoy that far too much, brother.”
Instead of fiery words shot back the only line of defense Lo’ak puts up is a scoff and frowned expression, golden eyes simmering with words that he knows better than to voice. Neteyam can give his brother credit for that at least. He knows when he is stomping on dangerous territory. You, on the other hand, seem to be learning that lesson far too slow. It seems a cute tawtute like you are more of a hands on learner. 
“Can I be excused then, oh might Olo’eyktan?” He flourishes with a sarcastic bow. 
“Leave.” Neteyam bites out simply, forcing his eyes to remain trained on his younger brother as he joins the crowd again. It’s a safety precaution just in case Lo’ak gets a bad idea even after warnings. Much to the Na’vi girl’s dismay Lo’ak does not join her again on the dance floor and instead heads straight towards the fermented fruit. No doubt he will spoil himself into a drunken state. Unfortunately for him, Neteyam already has his hands full babysitting you tonight. 
He takes his time, however, greeting a few of the clan members and partaking in a small dose of alcohol himself. With your small legs it will take you forever to get a distance that makes this chase even remotely fun. However, once the drink is empty and he has done his dues as Olo’eyktan in the social event Neteyam can no longer keep himself at bay. There are other creatures of the night that could be waiting to catch a pretty prey like you.
Tracking you down is almost laughably easy with your sweet scent wafting through the air. A scent that only grows tenfold when he comes across a peculiar piece of plastic stashed in a bush. It’s the dildo that is meant to still be snuggled up in your little cunt. 
A sharp smirk cuts into his features. 
For such a smart little thing you really can be so negligent at times. With the dildo out your scent now goes from a dulled perfume to a thick fragrance that coats the air. He recognizes that aroma, he knows the way it tastes. Your arousal has only made you an easier target and now you have done nothing but take out the one piece keeping it plugged. Neteyam can envision so clearly that trail of slick that is sure to be marking your thighs. 
Such a messy little thing you are. Even after the way he cleaned you up so dutifully post launch, you have managed to turn into a wet temptation once more. 
The small footprints along the dirt are almost pointless in his pursuit now that he has your scent. They only serve as a confirmation that he is going the right way. It doesn’t take long before the sound of your sharp panting reaches his upturned ears. It’s then that the Olo’eyktan takes to the trees. He glides along the thick branches without a sound, gaining a bird’s eye view of your desperate running. 
The full on sprint you started off with has come down to a clumsy jog. Even with your small stride he’s sure you could make it a lot further if you would simply stop looking over your shoulder every other second. An action that has you stumbling and grabbing your foot to pick out a thorn from the underside. Little curses rise between your harsh breaths. 
And then your breathing is cut all together. 
The sounds of claws and wild yips echo through the greenery. By the sounds of it Neteyam knows it must be a small pack of aynantang [viperwolves]. They aren’t close, at least not yet. With your back turned and eyes blown out in silent terror he decides that now is as good a time as ever to interrupt. 
Neteyam lowers himself down slowly, muscular arms controlling his descent into a movement so smooth and silent that it is nothing more than a shadow. A shaky hand covers your lips, the little puff of your beating heart pushing your chest out even more. One long step forward and now he can watch your trembling from above, his toes almost touching your muddy heels. 
“Their bite is not as sharp as mine, pet.” 
You scream before the sound can be stopped, spinning so fast your heel that you land directly on your red bum instead. Even without glowing tanhi dotting your skin, those dilated eyes have a way of making you glow in the night. Even more so when they dazzle up at him with unleashed fear and vulnerability. 
You scramble backwards, clawing at the muddy ground until you are clumsily trying to crawl back onto your feet. Fine by him, it’s easier to close the height difference when you are back to standing. He grabs your right arms easily, pulling you back against him. The fight continues as you turn to bash your first against his abdomen, even clawing at his thighs but then another sound cuts you off again. 
They are closer this time.
“They hunt in packs.” Neteyam informs you. “Circle their prey until there is nowhere left to go.”
A rustle of bushes to the left has your squirming changing from running away to ducking behind Neteyam. He allows the action, sharp teeth peeking from his grin when he feels the way your soft fingers dig into his thighs. 
“My father was almost killed by a pack once. Even in his avatar form he depended on my mother’s mercy to fight the creatures off.” You shake like a leaf in the wind, your face pressed against his lower back when the sounds get louder. He almost feels bad for scaring you so much, tempted to bundle you in his arms and shush your worries away. However, that would ruin the lesson. You are the one that decided to run off carelessly into the woods without him and now you need to understand why you depend on Neteyam for everything. Why you owe him your submission and affection. 
“I wonder how you would fair.” A few more wolves prowl from the bushes, inching closer. They creep forward with a hesitance at the sight of Neteyam, driven only by curiosity as your scent continues to fill the air. 
“Teyam.” You whimper into his hip, now latching onto the strap of his loincloth to urge him backwards. 
“What’s wrong, pet? I thought you wanted to be set free?”
A vicious snarl rip from the right and you stumble to cling to his left side now. That startled little scream is just barely muffled by the way your face is pressed into his hip. 
He coos at your little pleas. “Has someone changed their mind, hm?” Any other time you would be barring your blunt teeth at him but he knows that in the height of your fear there is no resistance left for him. You’re too focused on the prowling beasts that flash their own teeth in eclipse’s glow. 
“Teyam please, let’s go!” Voice caught on sobs that threaten to rise, you can barely make the words out. 
Your fear is palpable, but not just to him.The aynantang [viperwolves] can sense it too. They circle and watch with more confidence as the seconds roll by. Periodically they flicker up to his looming form, as if checking to see whether or not he will be a threat against their newfound meal. It would be easy to scare them off, something Neteyam has done himself many times. He’s hunted these forests since he was a boy and his own scent is something that the creatures have learned to associate with danger. 
Standing here now, however, he keeps a neutral position and one that the pack hesitantly takes as an opportunity to cinch closer. A flash of his knife and that confidence would disintegrate until the pack would scurry off into another corner of the forest. 
Neteyam keeps it sheathed. 
“You’re the one that ran off, little gift.” He reminds you, voice calm and cool. 
“I know! I know! I’m sorry j-just please!” 
“Please what, tiyawn? You have to be more specific.” 
You struggle to respond properly, hands frantically switching from tugs at the straps to clawing up at his arms. Regardless, Neteyam remains unmoved, arms crossed over his chest as he observes the scene with indifference. “Please..please don’t let them-” You gasp rearing back when you spot another viperwolf emerging from the left. It’s been there for a while but it appears this is the first time your weak eyes have caught sight of it. “I’m sorry! I’ve changed my mind! Please, I’m sorry.” You cry out in a shrill voice, plastering yourself under his arm. 
“Changed your mind on what?” It’s tempting to look down and see the way you so desperately seek his comfort but Neteyam is wise enough to keep his golden gaze sharply pinned on the emerging creatures. 
“On wanting to leave! You can take me home just please-”
“Oh can I?” Your chin is snatched between two fingers, forcing you to crane your neck up towards him. That mask of indifference is gone, replaced only  by a fierce stirness you are terrified to be facing twice in one day. “And what makes you think that is up to you?”
It’s hard to look into your eyes directly when they are bouncing wildly in every which direction. Perhaps it is your pitiful way of tracking the oncoming predators, or maybe you simply can not handle facing his gaze filled with ire. Either way, it is adorable to watch your natural submissive nature emerge. And all from a few viperwolves. 
Poor thing, what would you do without him?
“I-I’m sorry.” You say, voice so small and timid that only a Na’vi would have hopes of hearing it. Neteyam’s chest rumbles with a deep purr, other hand finally coming up to run through your hair.
“I know you are, tiyawn. You just get confused sometimes, don’t you?” No response is given, instead just a gasp as another creature inches closer and you dash into his arms. This time he wraps one arm around your small frame while the other goes for his sheathed knife. The advance pauses, aynantang  [viperwolves] pacing from side to side instead. Your reaction is premature but Neteyam basks in it all the same.
From the heated breath and salty tears painting his lower stomach he begins to worry that your fragile body will soon give out and lose consciousness. Keeping you tucked under his arm is the best move, easily accessible for when he needs to scoop you up without retaliation. However at this point, it seems that you are willing to do whatever it takes to earn his protection.
What a short memory you truly have. Perhaps if you listened to him more diligently like a good pet should then you would already know that his protection has been yours since the first time he saw you. He would defend you to his very last breath. Whether or not you asked for it would be irrelevant. That being said, you’ve always had the sweetest way of begging so who is he to deny himself such a pretty chorus of promises. 
They flow now freely from your lips. Pleading, crying, and begging for him to get you out of harm's way. He simply shushes you, making no rush as a rigid arm tightens to pull you even closer. 
The creatures are scared off within the first few hisses that leave his lips. Knife dancing under the moonlight with a deadly promise, they yip away reluctantly. Still, there is an advantage to not letting you know how easy it truly is to scare them off so he tells you to look away, to keep snuggled against him where they can not so easily see your fear. 
You remain that way when you are lifted into his arms. Your thighs strain to wrap around his ribcage but you eventually manage to lock your ankles together. With your shaky limbs locked in terror you are barely in need of his supporting arm, but he wraps one under your rear anyways. You remind him of a small syaksyuk [Prolemuris] as you cling with fervor, lighting his amusement to new heights. 
The walk back is pleasant, even when your shaking doesn’t stop and your racing heart beat is louder than the stomp of his feet. There is still great peace to be found with you in his arms and the promise of a wonderful night in the air. After tonight you won’t dare to leave him, not now that you have developed a healthy sense of fear and even more so once your body has taken him fully the way it was meant to. 
He holds back a groan at the thought. Your smell is still just as potent as when you first ran and now it holds an extra tang of emotion that makes it all that much sweeter. He manages to pick up the tossed aside dildo on the way back, but that acts as fuel to the flames. 
He has sought after your true mating for months and now that he is on the cusp of finally making it a reality it is hard to keep a rational mind. The natural urge to pin you down and take what has always been his morphs into a feral urgency that infringes on his thoughts. Although, he is determined to take his time tonight because it is isn’t enough to simply fuck you into the ground or find pleasure in that first stretch. No, tonight is about claiming you in every way possible. 
About teaching not only your body but your mind that there is no one else it belongs to. No one else that can provide for you in the way he can. Utter and complete submission is his goal. But to get you there, that will take skillful maneuvering and coercion. Otherwise it would not be a quest worthy of his time or attention. 
However, there is still one more way he can lock you into his life. One permanent reminder that would forever keep you shackled to him. An action that would have your scent intertwined with his so much so that it wouldn’t matter if it took. Pregnant or not the message would be clear. The confines of his loincloth feel suffocating at the thought. Would your tiny pussy even be able to hold half of his seed? What a pretty treat it would be to see it spilling out from your perfectly pink and tight hole. 
Pace now quickened, nothing can take away his laser focus. Not even Lo’ak’s obvious staring as you are carried swiftly along the outer edges of the celebration. Nor Spider who tries to run across the crowd and apologize again. Neither make it to him because all that he can feel is the warmth of your softy body. The pulse of your heart. The essence that is entirely yours, filling his lungs. 
Once back in the safety of his kelku [home/house] you are smart enough to not flee from his lap. He manhandles one leg to be thrown to the other side so you are properly straddling him. A sense of shyness must fall over you because you are silent while nervously fiddling with the feathers of his traditional attire. Or maybe you are still too shaken up over the little viperwolf incident to do much else. 
Neteyam is unbothered by it, instead using it as an opportunity to let his hands explore. Not in a sexual way at first, just simple brushes that are sure to have you melting for him.
“Now you understand why you must stay by my side. Don’t you pet?” Voice as gentle as the hands that run up the back of your neck, he can feel goosebumps rise in its wake. Eyes still fixated on the feathers, you nod shakily. If it wasn’t so cute he would be tempted to reprimand you for such a half hearted response but it appears luck is in your favor. 
His knuckles paint a trail up the back of your neck before swiping over your left shoulder. His other hand softly gathers your hair to the other side so your skin is bared for him. He thumbs at the side of your throat, feeling your pulse flicker beneath his fingers. 
“Such a pretty thing like you is not safe out there.” His hands bracket either side of your face, large enough to span the entirety of your head and tilt it upwards. It gives him the perfect view of your expression when both hands smooth up towards your hairline before parting and dragging along your scalp. Lips parted and eyes fluttered closed, he knows he has pressed the right button. 
“Creatures eager to snatch you up.” Neteyam draws out, nails ever so gently scratching along your roots. The shiver that races through your body is powerful enough to be visual. Massaging at the area in long strokes proves to have you breaking into pieces. Body practically limp against him, the Olo’eyktan watches with glee. 
No wonder Sky People are too soft for this world, all it takes to disarm you is some well placed pets. 
“And they’d be successful too,” The tips of his fingers come together to circle your hair into a ponytail. A small sound exhales from your lips, leaning into his touch without resolve. “Have you between their teeth before you could even scream.” That dark tone washes over you in a way so contrary to the warning message, his lips mere centimeters away from your own. 
One little kiss, more of a peck really. That is all you get. Just enough to have you chasing after him, a motion that is hard to do when he has you anchored by the root of your hair. 
“And that,” Another soft peck to your cheek, “is why you are so lucky to have me.” Neteyam allows his lips to linger longer this time but it’s still just as soft, almost more of a whisper than anything else and with the way you are trapped, there is nothing for you to do but take it. The noise that catches in your throat proves it is far from the passionate affection you desire. 
“Isn’t that right?”
“Yes Teyam.” You puff, the softest whisper as you try to learn forward for more. He tutts in disapproval, a slow but firm yank to your hair following. “Y-yes Olo’eyktan.” You correct yourself with a squeak and much to his delight, the fragrance from between your thighs intensifies. He’s tempted to look now and see if it has left a spot on his loincloth. 
“There’s my good girl.” He grins and finally you are rewarded with his lips capturing yours. Although slow and tender in movement the heat of the kiss is all consuming, spreading a message that can only reflect his complete control over you. Several times you try to squirm or wiggle but the hand embedded in your hair shackles you into place. 
Unlike most times you become a fidgeting little thing, it’s clear that your efforts are to get closer, not further away. Neteyam is a nice man after all and so he indulges that desire. At least to a degree. He kisses you until you’re gasping for breath. He kisses you until slick is seeping through your mini loincloth. And he kisses you until those soft little lips are ruby red and chapped from the harsh treatment. 
It doesn’t matter to you, that much is clear by the way you whimper once he pulls away. 
“Don’t be greedy.” He smirks against your cheek.
Your greed only intensifies when he slips one hand down to untie your loincloth. His other hand remains embedded in your hair as a leash, one that proves necessary as you are eager to rut up against him. Perhaps he would feel guilty for the way you blush in shame after another tug to your hair. That is, if your reactions weren’t so delightfully endearing. 
For reasons mysterious to him, humans have a habit of going against their natural needs. You are not exempt from this issue as you are constantly trying to deny your desire for him, even deny yourself the pleasure you so clearly require. It’s fortunate that you have him to override those silly concerns. And override them he does, quite easily since your body reacts like a live wire every time he is near. The smallest of touches have you aching for more.
Eywa has blessed him with such a responsive little pet and he has every intention of exploiting that sensitivity until you are screeching for him to stop. 
Small hands come to dig into his feathered mantle as he idly explores the curves of your stomach. He traces up until reaching the sparkling gems of your top. With two little flicks your hardened nipples are bared for him. 
It’s a rare experience to have you so cooperative as he bites and sucks at those little peaks. The emotions of that day have softened your resolve, a pattern that Neteyam makes a mental note of. 
He tunes into every sensation of satin skin beneath his fingertips. Atop his thighs. Prickling beneath his lips. Like a flower you blossom for him so exquisitely. Revealing petals that are just for him. Melodic whimpers that only he has the pleasure of inducing. The irritation of Lo’ak’s infatuation fades to the background with you so pliant in his arms. 
You are quickly driven to madness, or at least is how you plead when he continues to trace, worship and tease your small body. Neteyam is anxious too. His hard member presses painfully against the fabric of his tewng. However, being the first born son has taught him something that you very rarely exhibit: patience. The fruits of your labors are tenfold more exhilarating once following a period of yearning. 
And you yearn for him, little gift. So much so that your dramatic begging has him holding back a deep chuckle. 
A river of nectar flowing down your thighs, you act as if you will pitter into dust if not satisfied. 
It will be fun training you. Making you learn to sit patiently like a good pet when that inferno of fire burns deep within you. He can devise a plethora of creative punishments for when you inevitably step out of line. Neteyam looks forward to the long process. He wouldn’t want to succeed too quickly and cut the fun short.
Luckily your spit fire attitude is sure to draw it out, keeping him entertained and challenged for a long time. 
The reasoning is only further confirmed when he catches you sneaking a tiny hand between your legs. The grip in your hair finally releases only for him to sharply smack away your attempt. 
“Did I say you could do that?” 
You’re exasperated, pleading eyes staring up at him as a drawn out groan comes from your lips. 
“Well are you planning to tease me all night or actually do something?” 
You’re pinned onto your back in a heartbeat, this time his right hand curled around your throat instead of your hair. It may not be firm enough to cut off your airway but the oxygen in your lungs freezes all the same. 
“Oeyӓ tiyawn I have greater plans for my pussy than using your pathetic little fingers.” He growls into your ear, watching as you are too frozen in shock to bother struggling. “Because by the end of tonight it will be filled with my seed.” 
Your throat bobs with a thick gulp, stuttered words struggling to come forth but a tad more pressure against your pulse earns your silence. And to his fascination, your eyes roll back into your head. Fight it all you want, but it’s clear you have always thrived off of his domination. This power imbalance is one that you need. Satisfying that deeply locked away drive you have to be loved, pampered, controlled, and absolutely ruined.
Just in the way only he can deliver. 
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Squeeze any tighter and his fingers might just lose circulation. Regardless, the dildos have done their job effectively and now you are more than ready to take him. It was always going to be a tight fit, but at least there is little risk of real injury due to his preparations. 
You appear less convinced on that matter when his unoccupied hand roughly tugs off his tewng. Wide eyes stare down to where his full length lays along your stomach. He has to admit that in a position like this the size difference does become ever more staggering but he has every faith in you. 
“Neteyam please,” You whimper, shiny eyes staring up at him for mercy.
“Please what?” He hums. His fingers curl to massage that special spot inside while his thumb playfully runs over your clit. It has the desired effect, watching as your begging turns towards a different goal.
“Please let me cum! Need it! Neteyam please!”
Neteyam shushes you tenderly, relieving some of the pressure from you little button when he feels your cunt clench around him on the verge of an orgasm. You’ve never looked more beautiful than now, naked and spread across the little nest of blankets and pillows he arranged just for you. Long hair splayed out in every which direction and eyes already coated in a haze, it appears as if you have already been fucked dumb beneath him. 
“Patience, little gift. You will cum on my cock soon enough.” 
Your alarm flares up once more. 
“No Neteyam I can’t! It’s too big, it’s impossible-”
A large thumb presses over your lips to silence you. At this rate you are going to work yourself into hysterics and that would unravel all of the hard work he has done to get you here. A few more intentional circles on your clit has those protests flying out the door. It’s clear you require his help to stay calm and compliant the way you are meant to. The Olo’eyktan doesn’t mind aiding.
Your chest rises and falls dramatically as you melt under the pleasure. And when his three fingers are replaced with the head of his cock lining up, you hardly even notice. As long as that little bundle of nerves is being stimulated, you are hyper focused on seeing out that ecstasy to a finish. 
A soft kiss dampens your screech when he slots in just the tip. Already his mind swirls from the sensation but Neteyam manages to reign in his focus. Little ‘no’ s and pleas fall from your lips to caress his. 
“Mawey, oeyӓ tiyawn [be calm, my love]. You are being so good for me.” Another inch and it feels as if his own knees are about to crumble from how tightly you cinch around him. Small hands fists into the fabric below as your eyes squeeze shut. Neteyam shakily grasps one with his right hand, placing it along his shoulder that is now exposed with the feathered attire out of the way. “You can touch, little pet. Good girls deserve rewards.” 
With your face just barely reaching chest level the Olo’eyktan is forced to bend into an awkward position every time he goes to kiss away your tears, but it’s worth it. Those blunt little nails dig into his lower back. It’s a shame they aren’t strong enough to leave marks that he can cherish.
The air from his lungs are pushed out in a rush as he plunges ever so slightly deeper inside your sweet little pussy. You tense and cry beneath him, scratching as his back in haste. Although mere seconds away from popping his load far too early he still manages to reach down and play with your poor little cunt until more of that sweet essence is trailing out. 
“You need to relax for me, pet.” Neteyam grits, tail curling erratically. “Going to suffocate my cock like this, little one.” And it’s true because in all of his years of sexual maturity not once has he ever felt a pussy so tight, so responsive, wrapped around him. It drives him to the point of insanity. It takes every last bit of resolve he has left to not shove the rest of himself inside and plow you into the floor. 
But Neteyam knows better than to break his toys. 
The next few minutes test his mental and physical stamina over and over as you slowly take him inch by inch. Every slow push of his hips causes a domino effect of tears and incoherent cries from your sweet lips. He kisses and soothes and pleasures your trembling body until you’ve learned to relax again. Only to then restart the cycle when you take one inch more. 
However, nothing prepares him for the end result. No amount of dreaming or training could ever have done the sight justice as he sees the  way your soft belly bulges when he reaches the hilt. The shape of him is clearly visible, twitching so deep inside of you that it threatens to drive both of you into sensation overload. 
The groan that rumbles from his throat is one that you have never heard before. So rough and unleashed that your glittering eyes dilate in response. It’s still painful, that much he can see from the look on your face. So despite every instinct in him screaming to ruin your little pussy until it can take no more, Neteyam remains in place. 
Your swollen nub is red from his sensual play, nipples not far behind as he laps and kisses them like they are the last meal he will ever have. That beautiful blush now heats down your neck and torso, as if tempting him to continual his oral fixation. It accentuates most importantly that bulge of your stomach until he can’t help himself anymore, large hand spanning over your tummy to press on that area lightly. 
“Can you feel me, tiyawn? Right here?” He presses again, your mouth opening in a silent scream. “Taking me so deep, pet. My good girl.” 
 And it’s then that it feels as if something has clicked. Your bodies becomes attuned to one another. Burning stretch morphs into something otherworldly, those soft features finally unscrewing into fluttering bliss. And he draws out ever so slightly to rut back in, your head falls back against the pillows. 
He’s waited long enough. Pinned long enough. Crawled after you long enough. Now all that his body can do is take what you so freely give him. His hips snap forward without restrain, spurred on by the little sounds that pulse in the back of your throat. Little fingers scatter between gripping his muscular back and tangling into his braids. 
The heat that travels from his ears to toes is so intense that it feels as if he may burst into an inferno. And he truly might, little gift. With the way you hug his cock so snuggly as if you never want to let it go, you may simply kill him. He would be happy to go that way. To leave this world drowning in the bliss of your destined union. 
And for once in his life, Neteyam lets himself fully go. He chases that peak with fervent desperation. He drinks in every reaction you have to give him. And when the pleasure becomes all too much for you to take. When you grapple to crawl away from him and the mind shattering climax that is around the corner, he pulls you back down with a hiss. 
“No more running, pet.” He commands, a growl emanating so deeply from his chest that he almost doesn’t recognize his own voice. He hoists your left leg around his waist, effectively changing the angle to thrust in deeper. 
“Neteyam!” A screech like sweet honey from your lips as you finally tip over the edge. Body trembling so hard it takes that firm grip on your leg to keep it there, you crumble beneath him. His stamina is far from being drained as he rides you through it. Every wave of pleasure is stronger than a drug, leading him to cloud nine until he no longer wants to be anywhere else. 
“T-too much.” You gasp for air but your body is already succumbing to the onslaught. He can feel the way you are ramping up again. This is far from being over. 
“Give in.” Neteyam coos but the ring of that command is clear. There is no other option. That is the way it has always been because from the very beginning you have always been his. And sooner or later Eywa knew that the two of you would be here together, trapped in his love where you belong. 
“Oh God!” You cry out, body sliding up the floor with every thrust. 
Whether you find his queue by accident or on purpose is unclear but that first tug is enough to have his balls drawing up against his body, bracing to fly into bliss. There is a sticky mess between the two of you, slick enough to have those wet sounds filling the night air. Neteyam runs the flat of his nose over your sweaty temple and curve of your cheek. 
“My little gift.” He purrs, body on the brink of rupturing. He says it more for himself than you but is more than pleased to watch the way your eyes flutter close as the sound. Trembling, squeezing, and shattering around him, those are the moments your reserve of denial dries up.
That’s how it has always been. From the first night that he brought you home, tucked under his arm, you’ve had this other side that can be taunted out. Even that night as you had pleaded to be released only to have the gag put back in, his tongue had driven you to stillness. Your screaming of kidnapping had sizzled into a series of moans and ecstatic exclamations. 
There’s another side to him too.
The part of him that can finally bask in the one thing he has wanted for months. The part of him that yearns for reprieve day in and day out. The part that demands for rest- for freedom. 
Now he can finally surrender himself to the magic that the two of you create. To the sparkle that runs down your cheeks. To the sensation of being embraced so tightly by your little pussy. To the way his name has never sounded better from anyone else’s lips. Eywa has finally given him this gift, his sanctuary from every other pressure bestowed upon him. 
And now nothing is going to take it away from him.
Nothing will ever take you away.
Those are the thoughts that coerce his primal nature forward. The same that ramp the fire of his tongue demanding more from you. Pushing you further, harder, deeper. 
“You won’t let any spill out, will you pet?” He spits between grunts. 
“I-I’ll be good. I’ll be good. I’ll be good.” More of a chant on loop than anything else. One day you will beg properly. You will cry for his seed, for his babies. You won’t question whether or not pregnancy is possible as he fills your womb with his mark. 
You will wear that little bow on your neck with pride.
Neteyam forces his eyes open at the precipice. Even as his body convulses and cock pulses rampantly while painting your insides white, he won’t allow himself to miss a single moment. That imprint of your expression as he finally claims you past the point of return will stay with him. The drawn in gasp that is sucked in from your red lips when you feel that warmth will be what keeps him going on day after day. Major to minor details of tonight will be his soundtrack to perfection as he pushes himself to be the best Olo’eyktan possible. 
And when the day has worn him to the bone and those day dreams are not enough, there you will be. Waiting for him oh so sweetly. 
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“I want to sleep.”
Your muffled whine coaxes a chuckle from the Olo’eyktan.
“Then sleep.” He responds, only looking up from your spread legs for a second. So peaceful and sweet you are now, almost drowned in the hammock’s blankets and pillows. The picture of innocence and beauty only to then trail his eyes lower and find the evidence of his primal claim. His bioluminescent seed paints your weeping folds and inner thighs. A new spurt erupts from your still clenching hole only for him to push it back inside with his thumb again. 
It won’t make much of a difference. There is no way your small body could ever truly hold all of it but that doesn’t stop him from teasing you all the same. 
“Looks like this little pussy will need training to savor my seed properly after all.” 
Eyes still closed you let out a groan, trying to rip your thighs from his fingers. You remain trapped as exhaustion finally overcomes you, only a small incoherent curse from your tongue before passing out. 
Neteyam grins, reaching up to straighten the little pink bow around your throat. 
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Shoto Todoroki x Reader | First Kiss ❄️🔥💋
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Fandom: My Hero Academia
Ship: Shoto Todoroki x Fem Reader! 💋
Note: The fic gets a bit saucy, so A18+ ONLY just to be safe!
Genre: Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Making Out
CW: MDNI!, kissing, making out, boobs, fondling, romance, sexual tension, semi-spicy scenes, lemon
Link to My Master List
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Its mid-afternoon in the UA library. The early Spring sunlight is streaming through the tall windows and across the sci-fi novel you're flipping through. You sigh; content to finally have a Saturday off after a grueling few weeks of classes, training and internship activities.
You think back to a particularly tough training session that had taken place the day before - you had finally kicked Shoto Todoroki's ass in front of the whole class. You smile as you remember the shocked look on his face as you reached down to help him back to his feet.
"You had it coming, hot stuff." You winked as he grabbed your hand and let you pull him back to standing position. His face had flushed red in humiliation at the loss.
You're suddenly jerked out of your reverie when a figure looms over you, casting a long shadow on the desk before you. You turn, startled. As if pulled from your daydream, Shoto Todoroki has materialized before you – tall and handsome. You look up at him in surprise, mouth half open.
"I think we should kiss." Shoto's deep voice says above you, his tone neutral.
"Huh?" Your mouth drops fully open. Shoto is looking down at you with eyes alight with determination. That cute blush is back - splashed across his pale cheeks and across his aristocratic nose.
"I was thinking back to our fight yesterday, and the reason why I lost. It was because I was thinking about kissing you the whole time. I let myself get distracted. I think that if we kissed, I could get over it and refocus on training." So matter-of-fact! That was one thing you liked about Shoto - he was straightforward.
"Um...okay." With an effort, you close your gaping mouth. You’re absolutely dumbfounded. Shoto has never shown any romantic interest in you before. You’ve never caught wandering eyes on you in class, he’s never stashed a love note in your locker. None of the typical school love tropes have been leveraged here. If anything, the two of you are loose acquaintances on the cusp of being friends. Maybe a few more months of class and group activities together would have helped you bridge the gap and fully form a decent friendship.
You wonder if he’s been into you all this time, or if this is just a whim he’s exploring. Either way - who are you to let an opportunity to kiss a hot guy go by the wayside? You snap your book shut and stand. "You want to do this right now?"
Shoto nods, and turns to walk away with the expectation that you’ll follow. You get up and sweep your things into your bag, heart beating double time. You quickly jog to catch up with Shoto – he’s already out the door. The two of you walk across the UA grounds in silence, your footsteps falling into a soft rhythm.  Your mind is going at a million miles per minute – could this all be an elaborate prank? Shoto has never struck you as the type to play a cruel joke on a classmate. Quite the opposite – when he’s not training he seems so soft and sweet. He strikes you as more of an introvert than anything else. He keeps people at a safe distance. You’ve always been under the impression that when it comes to Shoto, trust is earned, not freely given.
You wonder if this kissing business means that you’ve earned a bit of that trust? Who’s to say.
“So…” you say, attempting to break the tension. “Where are we going?” 
Shoto looks back at you, confused. “Isn’t it obvious? We’re going to my dorm room.”
“Oh.” You pause. “Wouldn’t that be a bit inappropriate? Like, what if someone catches us kissing in your dorm room? Won’t we get in trouble?”
“I’ll lock the door.” He says sensibly. “It’s no one’s business but ours.”
“Huh.”
“Oh – I think I understand what you’re getting at.” He runs a hand through his hair reflexively. “It’s no wonder you’re one of the top members of the class. A good hero always has a strategy. So we should come up with an alibi.” He brings his thumb to his chin as he stares into space, pondering.
“If someone catches us, I can say that I experimentally froze my lips with my power and that I asked you to help me warm them up. Naturally, the best way to do so was with your lips.” He turns to you expectantly to gauge your reaction.
What the actual hell, Shoto.                                                          
“You’re um…you’re fucking with me, right?” You look at him uncertainly. Shoto’s unusually harsh upbringing has caused him to be shockingly literal at times. Your eyes scan his face until the corner of his mouth quirks upwards into a small smile.
“Yes, I am.”
You burst out laughing at the unexpected joke, and his tiny smile grows into a full grin. He likes making you laugh.
“Listen…” He says reassuringly, “No one is going to bother us – it’s such a nice day. I overheard some of the girls saying they were going to take pictures near the campus cherry blossom trees. They roped Midoriya, Ida and a few other classmates into the activity as well. Bakugo, Kirishima and Sero are all training across campus in the gym. We should have at least an hour or two before anyone comes seriously looking for us.”
Wow. That must be the longest group of sentences he’s ever said to you directly.
“You’ve really thought this through.” You say, following him across the threshold of Class 1A’s dorm complex.
He smirks. “I’m strategic.”
You look at him appraisingly. He looks clean and trim in his tailored UA uniform. Aside from the scar surrounding his eye, he has the most perfect skin of anyone in your class. While the rest of your classmates have been stressing about moisturizer and SPF and acne treatments, you’ve watched Shoto sail through his hormonal teens without a skincare care in the world. The skin of his cheeks is the color of porcelain and looks so, so soft and deliciously kissable. His face holds a mixture of determination and apprehension.
You enter the kitchen and common room area of your dorm and see that it’s completely, blessedly empty - odd for a Saturday. Shoto is right - it is one of the first nice spring days on campus. You assume everyone is out enjoying the nice weather as he said. This is a good thing – it means your clandestine meeting with Shoto can stay secret. Everyone in Class 1A can be so nosy sometimes. You’re determined to keep this juicy little secret between the two of you.
He leads you up towards one of the hallways that encompasses the boy’s dorms, pausing in front of his door to fiddle with his key. His usually steady hands are shaking a bit as he turns the lock and pushes open the door to reveal his immaculately clean bedroom with it’s traditional Japanese décor.
You step inside and slide off your shoes, letting your bag drop to the floor.
“I forgot how traditional your space is, Shoto.”
He closes the door behind you and clicks the lock into place before discarding his keys on his desktop. He looks around the dorm room thoughtfully.
“It’s how I grew up. I never really had the chance to develop my own taste or style.”
“Maybe now that you have your own space, you finally can!” You say enthusiastically. “If you’d ever like to go shopping or want help putting together a Pinterest board, Mina and I can definitely help you find some inspiration.”
His flat line of a mouth quirks up into another small smile. “I haven’t really had the time to think about anything other than school work and the L.o.V. since we moved into the dorms. Maybe you’re right – this could be an opportunity to broaden my horizons. See what I like.”
“Yeah! There are so many fun ways you can bring more of yourself into this space. We can start with a throw pillow.” You say knowledgably, pulling up the Pinterest app on your phone. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Blue.”
You type the color into the search bar, and immediately the screen is flooded with hundreds of different shades of blue throw pillows – all kinds of patterns and sayings and beading and embroidery. You hand him your phone and encourage him to scroll through the options.
“I’m sure we can find something that makes you feel like you.”
His eyes soften a bit as he takes the phone from you, intrigued. He scrolls through the colorful images, overwhelmed by the options. After a few minutes of careful deliberation, he finally stops and double taps a picture, hyperlinking to a website.
“This. This feels like it could be me.” He sends himself the link so he can purchase the pillow later. He hands back your phone and you take a curious look – the image he’s drawn to is a long rectangle of fabric shaped like a whale. It has navy blue stripes along with a small curved tale and button eyes sewn on. You look up and see that the tips of Shoto’s ears are bright red.
“This isn’t what I was expecting – but I see now that it suits you perfectly.” You say, picturing the whale pillow in his room – a dash of whimsy against the otherwise stuffy outdated décor.  He practically glows at the compliment. You realize that this is likely one of the first times someone is validating a choice he has made for himself. You cough and toss your phone into your discarded bag – the moment feels oddly intimate.
Shoto’s eyes scan across your face and he speaks his next words slowly, almost deliberately. “This is what I’ve always liked about you, y/n. You always seem to know what to say to get someone to smile or to open up. Admirable traits in a future hero.” You feel your own face heating up at the sweet compliment. Shoto has never given you so much direct attention outside of class, and it’s exciting and almost unnerving to have those two intense eyes focused in entirely on you.
“Thank you Shoto, that’s a very kind thing to say.” You suddenly realize how very close Shoto’s face is to your own. He’s only a few breaths away. Shoto is a few inches taller than you, so you need to crane your neck in order to get the full picture of his beautiful face. You wonder nervously if he expects you to initiate – should you reach out and grab his face? Your heart starts beating much too fast and you see his intense eyes dart down to your lips, wanting. You take a step closer to him, leaning up to meet his face, and…
“Let’s get started.” He says abruptly, breaking the moment. He walks over to his closet and pulls out his bedroll, hastily moving to set up his sleeping space so that you’ll have a comfortable place to sit. Once he sets up the space, he takes a seat on the soft mattress and motions for you to join him. This wasn’t really what you were expecting, but you remember that Shoto is pretty sheltered. He clearly has a plan in mind here, so you decide to let him take the lead.
“Alright, before we start – I just want you to know that we can stop at any point you’d like. I want you to be comfortable here, so please let me know if at any time you feel like you don’t want to continue. Ok?”
You nod, appreciating the dialogue and Shoto’s forethought surrounding consent.
He takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. Leaning his head back, he exhales slowly through his nostrils. After a moment of deep breathing, his eyes flutter open. “It’s an exercise my father taught me for clearing my nerves before a battle.” He explains as he runs a nervous hand through his two-toned hair.
“Are you anticipating a battle here?” You tease, reaching over to place your hand on his thigh. Shoto eyes the hand curiously before matching your gaze.
“Of course not. But surprisingly – I have the same feeling of anxiety now that I usually have right before a sparring match.” His expression is stone cold serious, not even the hint of a joke this time.
“I understand that. It’s nerve wracking to kiss a person for the first time.” You quickly double back on your words. “N-not that I’m implying that this is your first kiss or anything, I-”
Shoto blinks. “Oh – this is my first kiss. I thought it was fairly obvious.”
“Oh! Oh, Todoroki – I didn’t realize!” You trip over your words a bit and it brings out a soft smile in Shoto.
“I think that’s why I’ve been so distracted lately. Once I know how it feels, maybe then I can move on and focus back on my training and studies. Is this not your first kiss?” He tilts his head to the side, questioning. You see no hint of jealousy in his eyes – he’s legitimately curious.
“N-no. I’ve kissed a few people before. Never anything serious! Just here and there at summer camp.” You smile weakly, face burning. Shoto nods appreciatively at your candid answer.
“That makes sense – you’re very competent at everything you do. And very attractive.” This last part brings a blush across Shoto’s pale cheeks. “I had assumed there were plenty of people who have wanted to be kissed by you.” The compliment is unexpected and it makes a laugh bubble up your throat. You start giggling and Shoto seems taken by surprise.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No – no! You’re just so sincere and sweet and I am so nervous right now. Shoto you’re competent and attractive, too. I hope that you know that!” This brings his smile back out again, like the sunshine after a long rainstorm.
“Why don’t we just get it over with, then? I’ve read a few articles and studied some movies and…well, I think I’m as prepared as I can be.” Shoto’s face is so open and earnest your heart squeezes in your chest. He studied for this??
Slowly, carefully, Shoto reaches out a delicate hand to cradle the side of your face. He scoots somewhat awkwardly closer to you, but the rest of his movements hold his typical grace. He leans forward, eyes half closed, and brings his lips to your own.
You dip your head to receive the kiss, and you feel his soft lips melt against yours. You close your eyes and revel in the feeling of his mouth. Everything about him is soft and electric at the same time – the points where your bodies are connected feel charged with some kind of buzzing energy that leaves your breathless. And just as soon as it’s begun – it’s over. A brief peck, a stolen moment in time. Shoto pulls away from you, eyes wide, as he catches his breath.
“So?” You ask, trying for nonchalance but failing when you realize your voice is just a hoarse whisper. “What did you think?”
“It’s…” Shoto looks at you thoughtfully, touching his fingers to his tingling lips. “It wasn’t what I was expecting. I just feel like I want to do it more – like I need to keep going.”
You laugh – “Did you really think you’d want to stop after your first kiss?” Shoto shrugs, unwilling to answer the question.
“Can we kiss again? Please. If you’d like to, that is?” He asks, and you note the want in his voice. You’ve never heard Shoto Todoroki sound desperate for anything in his life before this moment. You’re surprised at how he sounds fairly desperate for you.
You smile at him and lean in close, bringing your foreheads together. You can feel different temperatures playing across his skin as he works to keep his quirk in check as excitement roars across his body.
“Follow my lead, lover-boy.” You whisper, before crashing your lips together. You move at a faster pace this time, showing him how to slide his mouth against yours to have a proper make out. He picks it up quickly and absolutely relishes in it. His eyes are closed and his hands find either side of your face again. You let him hold you like that for a few minutes before you decide to take the reigns a bit more. You reach out to place a hand on his chest and softly push him away from you.
“Here – this will make things a lot easier.” You stand up and move to straddle him, slowly sliding into his lap and wrapping your legs around his back. You place his hands on your waist and wind your arms around his neck. “Comfortable?” He nods, his eyes blown wide and almost glassy with lust.
“This is okay?” He asks, looking down at the way his hands grip your hips.
“Absolutely. You’re going to want them there for leverage.”
“Leverage?” He asks weakly, his eyes trained on your lips.
“You’ll see.” You smile deviously as you take in how absolutely undone Shoto looks. “Okay, next step – have you done any research on French kissing?”
Shoto nods again, looking a bit uncertain. “I watched a romantic comedy online and at the end the main couple kissed that way.”
“Well it’s super easy – I’ll walk you through it.” You tilt your head towards his and melt your lips back together, starting out with a slow and soft kiss. As he begins to get comfortable with the pace of your kissing, you move to deepen it – running the tip of your tongue across his lips. He naturally opens his mouth to you, and you move so that your tongues meet. You guide him into a light dance, your kisses becoming more frantic as your mouths and tongues collide. This brings out a ferocity in Shoto that you hadn’t expected, and you feel his hands grip your hips with almost bruising force. You groan, turned on by the contact. You automatically rock your hips into his and he stills at the motion. You blush as you realize that you can feel Shoto’s dick becoming hard beneath you. Shit.
His hands fly off of your hips and he sits back, mortified.
“I’m so sorry-” you start to say as he runs his hand anxiously through his hair again. Shoto takes a deep breath and looks at you, eyes still fuzzy.
“Don’t be sorry! That was amazing, I just…didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He looks down between you pointedly. He doesn’t want you to get freaked out by the fact that he’s got a boner.
“Oh I’m not uncomfortable at all! Actually, quite the opposite.” This answer makes Shoto’s sculpted eyebrows fly up into his hair.
“Really?” He whispers.
“Yeah. It’s actually really hot.” You reach down and take his hands in yours, moving them back to your hips. You make piercing eye contact with Shoto as you roll your hips experimentally again – feeling his hardness even through your clothes. He groans at the contact this time, a soft sound that is just: So. Goddamn. Hot.
You grind against him again, picking up a steady rhythm as Shoto enthusiastically moves your hips. Struck by sudden inspiration, you lean forward to kiss a sloppy line up his neck. This draws a moan from Shoto that you weren’t expecting – low and sweet. You smile as you continue to kiss his neck, using your tongue when you find a particularly sensitive spot beneath his ear.
Shoto grabs your face with one hand and tilts your head up before crashing his lips back into yours. His kisses are heated and passionate as he bounces you on his lap, making you both see stars. You’re so wet you can feel yourself soaking through your panties. You pray that your school uniform pants won’t get damp beneath you – how embarrassing would that be?! At the same time - you don’t give a damn; Shoto’s mouth and his hands and his dick feel far too good. At the moment kissing Shoto Todoroki feels like the only thing you were put on this goddamn earth to do.
Tentatively, you feel Shoto’s hands wander up from your hips. You moan into his mouth as his hands find your breasts. “How is this?” He whispers hoarsely, running delicate fingertips across the peaks of your breasts. “Is this okay? I can stop if you want me to.” You moan your consent enthusiastically, and when he begins to softly knead your boobs over your shirt, your hormones fully take the wheel.
You hop off your classmate so you can quickly unbutton your shirt – your tie flying off as you work. Shoto remains sitting on the floor and does the same with his own uniform. In a moment he is sitting shirtless and beautiful before you, chest heaving as he works to catch his breath. He stares at you with bright eyes as you stand above him in nothing but a bra and UA’s uniform slacks. He has never seen a woman with so little clothing on before, and he is in awe.
You kneel down beside him on the bedroll and reach out to touch his perfect body. Your hand hovers above his perfectly sculpted abs and you look up at him, eyes asking permission. He nods, giving you his blessing to touch. You smooth your fingertips lightly across the defined planes of his chest and abs, marveling in all that he is. Your palm comes to rest against his chest and you feel his heartbeat – a quick staccato beneath your delicate hand. You push him lightly so that he moves to lie on the ground before you.
“You alright with all this?” You whisper, moving slowly to straddle him on the ground.
“If I get to have you on top of me again – absolutely.” And he grins – a genuine smile that radiates comfort. You’ve never seen a look like that before on Shoto’s face and it stops you in your tracks. You just want to bask in the glow of the rare gift of his beaming face.
After a moment, you collect yourself and move so that you’re on all fours and hovering over him. You shiver – you’ve never been so close to someone in this way before. He seems to notice your hesitation.
“You look cold – do you want to grab a blanket?” He reaches up and runs his hands up and down your arms, giving you more goose bumps. You nod, and he reaches to grab a thick grey knit blanket that’s folded neatly to your left. He pulls you down to lay on top of him and easily casts the blanked across your intertwined bodies. The knit feels luxurious and expensive – and it smells deliciously like Shoto. A scent that’s a mixture of sandalwood and fresh sheets wafts around you. It’s comfortable and warm and you feel so, so happy to be sharing this moment with Shoto.
He wraps his arms around you and feels himself get hard again at the delicate feeling of your bare skin against his own. He pulls you in for a kiss – and this time the passion is slow, sensual. You’ve never kissed someone like this before – like you have all the time in the world. He moves his hands up and down your bare back beneath the blanket – warming you up. He’s keeping his ice quirk at bay – both of his hands are the perfect temperature as they run across your soft, supple skin. His hands come to rest on your lower back as he moves to experimentally kiss down your collarbone.
“Oh! Oh, Shoto, yes.” Is all you can say. The use of his given name seems to turn him on even more, because his kisses become sloppier and he runs the edge of his teeth against your skin. He continues to kiss down your shoulder, pausing for only a moment in order to roll you both over so that he can have a turn on top. You gasp at the sudden movement – the dynamics have unexpectedly shifted and Shoto is in total control.
He gazes down at you, shifting the blanket so that it doesn’t get tangled between your bodies.
“You’re so beautiful.” He says, a note of wonder in his voice. “Your skin is so soft…I never realized how great it would be to touch you.” He runs a light fingertip across the delicate skin of your neck and across the expanse of your collarbone. He watches as he runs his finger down the slope of one of your breasts, stopping when he meets the soft cotton of your bra.
“Can we take this off?” He whispers, moving to palm your breast over the delicate white material. You nod, and prop yourself up so you can reach behind yourself to unclip the clothing. With a light “pop!” the bra clip comes undone and Shoto helps you discard the item. He takes in your breasts with a look of absolute amazement and cautiously reaches out to touch them. He gently runs the palm of his hand across your right breast experimentally. You gasp at the contact, and he nervously glances at your face to make sure you’re not in any discomfort. You smile at him, encouraging him to keep going. He kneads the breast in his strong hand a few times before experimentally rolling his thumb over your nipple. You gasp at the contact as pleasure surges through you – you had no idea you were so sensitive. Shoto repeats the motion, earning a soft moan. He smiles at the praise – unexpectedly mischievous as he moves so that he’s kneeling over you, able to tackle a breast with each hand. He goes to work pinching and massaging and rolling your breasts between deft fingers, drawing the sweetest sounds from your mouth.
“Shoto!” You cry out as he moves to spread more kisses across your neck as his left hand plays with one of your breasts. You reach down and squeeze the muscular plane of his ass, begging him to grind into you. He gets the message loud and clear – moving against you gently so that you can feel his hardness graze against you.
He’s causing so many delicious sensations across your body with his lips, hands, hips, groin – it’s almost too much. You feel like you might drown in him when suddenly –
A knock on the door causes you both to still.
“Todoroki?” Mr. Aizawa’s voice is muffled behind the door. You’re both rigid with fear. Shoto’s lips are at your neck and his breath tickles your bare skin. Your fist is tightly squeezed around his left ass cheek. You stare at the ceiling as you start to panic, wondering wildly what you’re supposed to do in this situation. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.
Mr. Aizawa knocks on the door again. “Todoroki – your father is here to see you.”
“My father?!” Shoto blurts out before he can stop himself. He scrambles off of you and looks around in a panic. “Why’s my father here?”
The walls seem to be thinner than you thought, because Mr. Aizawa supplies an answer from the other side of the locked door.
“Endeavor had a press conference at a hotel down the road this morning. He wanted to check in and discuss internships. I left him waiting in the common area. I’ll be in my office if you want to grab any internship paperwork while he’s here. I wouldn’t keep him waiting, kid.”
“Of course – thank you Mr. Aizawa!” Todoroki calls through the door awkwardly, listening as your teacher’s footsteps recede into the distance.
You and Shoto stare at each other in absolute horror.
“Do you think he heard us? Do you think h-he knows?” You whisper, panic lacing your voice.
Shoto shakes his head no as he gathers up his shirt and shakily tries to re-button it. “No – I don’t think he was out there long enough to hear anything incriminating.”
You let out a breath of anxious air, reaching for your discarded bra. “Thank goodness.” You re-clip your bra and shrug on your shirt.
“Endeavor is here?” You eye Shoto with concern as he dawns his tie and straightens his hair in a wall mirror on the back of his door.
“My old man likes to pop up at inconvenient times.” Content with his hair, he looks down at you. You’ve started to fold up his blanked and bedroll, patting down your own hair along the way.
“We should probably talk about what just happened…” He starts to say, but you shush him as you hear heavy footsteps coming from down the hall.
“Shoto!” A booming voice rings through the hallway, sending shivers up your spine. The heavy footsteps come to a stop right outside Shoto’s dorm door. The doorknob rattles as someone tries the lock. “How dare you keep me waiting!”
“I’ll be out in a minute, old man!” Shoto calls back bitingly. He glares at the door, thankful for the meager lock. He turns to look at you, and his eyes fill with panic. You scan the room for a place to hide – there is absolutely nowhere to conceal yourself in Shoto’s sparse, plain room.
Suddenly, you’re struck with inspiration – you point to the window. Shoto nods in agreement, dashing to grab your things from where they lay abandoned at the threshold of the door.
Quietly, you pad over to the window and pull back the curtains by a foot. You unlatch the window and slide it softly open before hoisting yourself into the wide window frame. It’s lucky you’re not afraid of heights – because Todoroki’s room is on the fifth floor. There is a small escape ladder for fire emergencies (you smile at the irony of Endeavor being the fire emergency in this case). You move to settle your feet on the top rung of the ladder, with plans to climb your way back to the ground so you can re-enter the dorm building from the back.
Shoto leans out the window and hangs your messenger bag around your shoulder.
“Find me later so we can discuss this.” He says, looking apprehensively over his shoulder as his father continues to bang on the door and callout his name. “I’m sorry this ended with you having to sneak out the window like some sort of criminal.”
“Ah, it’s no big deal! Makes it more exciting.” You grin and he smiles back. He leans forward and presses a small kiss to the corner of your mouth before moving back to close the window.
As he slides the glass closed, he says to you “I don’t think this is going to help me refocus. If anything, I’m more distracted than ever.” You give him a wink as he shuts the window soundly, drawing the curtains to cover your escape.
Hastily, you climb down 5 stories worth of thin metal ladder, landing gracefully in the soft spring grass. You walk to the dorm’s back entrance and let yourself in, walking past the laundry room and up towards the common area. Mina waves at you as she tosses some clothes into the washing machine, and you say a silent prayer thanking the powers that be that none of your friends had come looking for you while you spent your blissful hour hidden away, half-naked and moaning, in Shoto Todoroki’s room.
You climb the stairs two at a time until you hear the voice of the Number 2 Hero grumbling in the common area. Curious, you peak around the corner to see Shoto and his father seated on one of the couches, sorting through paperwork. Shoto has a dead look behind his eyes as his father lectured him about the importance of networking. He nods blankly a few times before his eyes catch sight of your small frame hiding around the corner. His entire face softens at the sight of you. Endeavor notices and turns to see what’s captured his son’s attention.
“You there! Are you a member of Class 1A?” He booms out, almost polite in his delivery. You walk out into the room, drawing yourself up to your full height.
“Dad – this is my classmate Y/N. She lives on the girl’s side of the dorm. Her quirk is extremely powerful.”
“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Endeavor.” You say, trying not to blush at Shoto’s compliment. Endeavor waves you off with a fiery hand.
“Ah, that’s right. I recognize you from the Sport’s Festival. Your quirk and fighting style were both quite impressive.” He looks at you appraisingly. “Are you a close friend of Shoto’s?” 
“She is.” Shoto answers smoothly. “Actually, she’s been tutoring me a bit lately on some techniques I’m not familiar with. She’s a greatteacher.” The subtext is not lost on you.
“Surely you don’t need help in your studies, Shoto. You’re at the top of your class.” Endeavor says gruffly, looking to his son for further explanation.
“Just showing him a few moves I picked up in one of my martial arts classes, sir! Shoto picks up new techniques like a Pro.”
Endeavor seems mollified by this answer. “Of course he does. He’s on track to become the best of the best.” The hero claps his hand on Shoto’s shoulder proudly, and you smile weakly at the discomfort that flashes across Shoto’s eyes.
“Well – I’ll let you both get back to your work! Shoto – if you want to practice those techniques again later, I’ll be in the library until 8 tonight.”
You see Shoto ever so slightly lick his bottom lip. His face is tinged with the lightest of blushes.
“Got it. I’ll see you there, Y/N.”
You have a feeling that Shoto isn’t going to be able to focus on his studies for quite some time.
----------------------------------
PART 2
PART 3
🔥 Link to My Master List 🔥
2K notes · View notes
sunghoonbite · 7 months
Note
okay how about enha's (the members you write for) reaction to reader crying during like really rough sex?
pairing: hyung line (- hoon) x reader
warnings: nsfw, rough sex, dacryphilia, choking, degradation, throat fucking, biting, mentions of marks and bruises
minors dni before reading
oh anon i love you . your mind. this took so long im sorry but i love this. i’ll get to my other rqs soon i swear. hope this makes up for the wait
when heeseung fucks, he fucks hard. and that’s exactly how you found yourself face down pressed into his mattress, whimpering out into the pillow beneath you.
heeseung gets carried away often. first he gets distracted by your outfit, and then by your curves, thighs, and body. when he gets his hands on you, he’s unable to stop. for lack of a better term, he thinks with his dick. so when he’s inside you, pounding you from behind as you whine, he goes faster with each noise. every little shiver of movement, every sound, he gets addicted to the feeling of you against him.
he gripped your waist, palms tightening into your skin, pulling you closer to him as if he wasn’t already inside of you. he let out a groan before fucking you harder, resulting in your legs giving out. to this, he responded by holding your weight up and continuing.
overstimulated by the feeling of him thrusting in and out of you, your legs shook. he was fast, panting, shakily moaning as he fucked you. he didn’t think. he just continued to fill you up, completely ignoring the possibility that he might be too rough.
“heeseung,” you shakily cried out, gripping the sheets.
“yeah?” he said, breathlessly, distracted by pleasure. you felt good, so fucking good clenched around him.
“too much, hee,” you whined. you hadn’t realized, but you had started to cry. tears that resulted from his coarseness formed, although not falling from your eyes yet, you sniffled.
“shit,” he spoke, pulling out at the sound. he began to console you, whispering out “hey, hey hey,” unintentionally conjoining each word together with the pace of his speech.
his grip on your waist made it easy to turn you around on your back, and he leaned over your body to wipe away tears that had found their way out of your eyes.
although embarrassed, you missed the feeling of him in you as soon as he pulled out, despite the roughness that took place. you lightly held onto his hand that now cupped your face.
“you didn’t have to stop,” you said, softly.
“but you’re crying?” he questioned in a similar soft tone, inadvertently tilting his head to the side as he spoke. he didn’t release his hand from your face just yet, allowing his thumb to rub against your jaw.
“i don’t mind,” you responded, “it feels good when it’s too much,” attempting to hide your humiliation for requesting him to continue.
heeseung’s lips curled up, and he turned his head to cover his smug expression. he readjusted, and spread your legs.
“yeah? you wanna cry for me, then?” his tone shifted, “wanna sob on my dick when you can’t take it anymore?”
your hands found their way to your head immediately, concealing your face. he didn’t typically fuck you in missionary, so having him above you, right above you, felt like you were on display. it was impossible to look him in the eye as he spoke to you in such a way, but he didn’t care. he enveloped your hands with his and pinned them each beside your head.
“missionary? why?” you somehow managed to ask, stumbling over your words as you looked to the side, avoiding his gaze.
he exhaled.
“i wanna see you,” he replied before entering you once again, “you look so fucking pretty when you cry.”
jay is usually pretty gentle during sex, unless you make an effort to let him know that you wanted him to be rougher than usual. he has absolutely no problem with that, since he’s actually been hoping you’d offer. he’s respectful, too respectful, which makes you want a taste of something more harsh. luckily for you, he can be a mean dom.
when it actually came down to it though, he was more intense than you had in mind.
“sit down,” he ordered. you did.
he placed his thumb and pointer finger between your chin, and tugged lightly to open your mouth. you allowed him, parting your lips more.
he unbuckled his belt mere inches away from your face, letting his pants fall and his clothed bulge stare back at you.
once he uncovered his cock, he didn’t even begin to warm you up before entering your mouth almost entirely. you let out a small whimper at his size, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair in response.
he started to rock his hips back and forth, moans falling out of his mouth as he fucked yours. jay had never made you suck him off in such a way, so quickly filling your throat and making you gag.
before tonight, he’d often brush stray hairs from your flushed face as he guided you to lick his tip and downwards, slowly easing up to gently permit you to suck him off at your pace. he’d release small groans as you did.
“fuck, doing so good, baby,” he’d say, with a smile as he looked down at you.
now, though, he had your hair gripped as he smacked his cock to the back of your throat. he barely gave you air to breathe in as he relentlessly fucked your throat, forcing you to rely on just your nose to inhale.
you looked up to him with watering eyes from the intensity, clawing your fingernails into the sheets that rested below you to release tension.
it’s not that you didn’t enjoy it, quite the opposite, actually. but he was so harsh, so fucking ruthless and it made your throat burn. taking him into your mouth at all was a struggle due to his size, and here he was, forcing you to take it. honestly, it was all you ever wanted from him and more, but you couldn’t help the tears falling from his rough his cock felt hitting your throat.
jay removed himself, and placed a hand on your cheek, tilting your head up to him.
“too much? do you need me to stop?” he asked, sweat dripping from his dark hair. his chest rose and fell expeditiously with his hurried breaths.
“no, jay,” you mumbled, voice sounding a little more desperate than you anticipated, “keep going, please. make me cry.”
it didn’t give him a second thought before he parted your jaw and fucked into you once again, keeping his grip on your hair tightened, fixing your head into place so that he could look at you.
tears fell and you sniffled, looking up at him with sparkling eyes, and he took his thumb to rub the droplets away.
“so fucking pretty,” he muttered, “such a good girl, crying on my dick.”
fucking jake is exciting. he’s always up for trying new things, which includes rough sex. however, he was always worried of hurting you, despite your pleas for him to bite and mark you. he had convinced himself that he would simply be too much for you, not realizing that’s exactly what you wanted to happen. you wanted him to completely lose control, lost in the way he fucked himself into you.
concerned, he’d constantly check in with you during his attempts to be rough. it’s not that he didn’t want to fuck you, marking you as his in the process, but it was all so new. what if you felt too hurt?
“fuck,” he’d groan under his breath, starting to pick up the pace unknowingly, thrusting his hips into you. when he realized, though…
“shit, sorry,” jake would say, slowing down to a more gentle speed.
you never minded. he’s just shy, you thought.
jake was absolutely not shy. he’d spit into his palm and fuck his hand, murmuring your name when you weren’t around. he’d look at innocent pictures of you, smiling and posing, wondering how you’d look with mascara running down your pretty cheeks. he’d stare at your exposed skin in your off-the-shoulder top and hold back biting your skin until it became red, his teeth creating crevices and marks. he’d watch as you make a cup of coffee in the kitchen, quietly fantasizing about bending you over the counter.
tonight, as you laid beneath him in missionary position, he connected his lips with yours as he adjusted inside you.
“so tight,” he muttered, biting his lip unconsciously as his hands rested on each side of your body.
he felt his hips jerk into you like usual, stopping himself before going further, his eyes fixated on the curves of your body. he wanted more of you.
you let out a moan at him going deeper, but as always, he continued agonizingly slow. he was shy, you thought, but you knew he wanted to be deeper inside you. you knew he wanted more.
“jake,” you whimpered out, eyes gazing upwards to meet his.
“sorry, i know,” he quickly apologized before you could continue, “i’ll be gentle.”
“don’t,” you protested, desperation evident in your voice that you failed at covering, “please, be rough with me.”
with that, jake’s eyes lit up a little, “hm?”
“i don’t want you to be gentle. i want you harder,” you explained, moans getting caught in your words as he was still inside you, “please jake.”
he didn’t respond, but he dipped his head towards your shoulder, taking your skin in between and bit, exactly how he imagined before. he let out a groan, feeling you against his teeth, before fucking into you as deep as he could.
your back arched subconsciously, nails digging into his back as you whined out, tears already piercing into your eyes at his size.
“this is what you wanted, yeah?” he asked, voice raspy due to his low tone. his mouth traveled to your neck as he decided to leave his mark there, too.
“yes, jake,” you struggled to speak, “fuck.”
at your strained voice, his head adjusted so that he could look down at you. your face twisted into an expression he hadn’t quite seen you make before, eyes shut closed and mouth wide agape. he began to pound you, repeatedly now, your tears now beginning to fall.
he picked up the pace at that, aroused by how your mascara smeared. it was better than he imagined, and he resisted cumming inside you right then and there.
“you okay?” jake said, having to make sure, although knowing it was likely exactly what you wanted.
“yes,” you replied in a breathy whimper. his hand met your throat and he tightened his grip slightly, choking you a bit, but not to the point of harming you.
“good,“ he replied, “taking me so fucking well. my pretty slut.”
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hannieehaee · 7 months
Note
hii!! i hope ure having a great day
i just wanted to request loser!scoups hehe I RLLY LOVED CHANS VERSION AND WAS HOPING TO SEE MORE 🫶🏻 anyways take your time to answer when ure free, thanku!
18+ / mdi
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content: loser!seungcheol, afab reader, smut, dry humping, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 2686
part 1, part 2, part 3
a/n: hii thank u for requesting <33 i never considered loser!cheol before but ngl i loved writing it hehe i hope u enjoy <3
masterlist
despite popular belief, seungcheol was actually a bit of a loser.
okay, maybe his appearance didn't necessarily fit the bill (with his slicked back hair and bulging muscles), but everything else about choi seungcheol truly screamed loser.
even with a large group of fratboy friends, seungcheol was still the loser of the friend group, being the only one who had opted out of joining the frat and who spent every day and night studying rather than ever attending any of his friends' parties.
this was all by choice, he swears! seungcheol was just far too serious about his education to let anything become a distraction. and it had always been like this, even dating back all the way to middle school (jeonghan could vouch for this, having known him basically since diapers). due to this, seungcheol had always been kind of a black sheep in any and every social situation he ever found himself in. as a result, seungcheol ended up becoming shy, awkward, utterly embarrassing in social situations, and as jeonghan liked to put it, a 'virgin loser.'
even if seungcheol wanted to disagree with his friend, he knew he was right. here he was, twenty-one years of age and still a lonely virgin who had never even felt the touch of a woman's hand in his. he'd had opportunities before, set ups orchestrated by his friends, but he always managed to fuck them up. due to jeonghan's outgoing disposition, the girls he usually set him up with were set for a surprise upon meeting a his friend seungcheol, who could not even hold eye contact for more then twelve seconds (he counted).
except this year that would all change.
now in his senior year of college, seungcheol had an epiphany.
on the very first week of senior year, upon being assigned a new dorm-mate due to his previous one transfering, seungcheol finally saw a mirror of himself.
his new roommate was, for lack of a better term, a fucking loser (the term being courtesy of jeonghan once again). seungcheol had barely met the guy, yet he could not stand one more moment of conversation with him. not only was he a know-it-all who could only ever talk about academics, but he was maybe even more of a loser virgin than seungcheol was (at least that's what seungcheol was able to assess from the three separate occasions in which he walked in on his roommate watching porn in the common area of the dorm). his hygiene was terrible and his wide-rimmed glasses made him look like the typical nerd in every high school movie. everything about him was what seungcheol feared to one day become.
this one week of torture had been enough for seungcheol to finally take jeonghan up on his offer to join his frat and subsequently move into the frat house. granted, jeonghan had to break a few rules to allow a new pledge with zero obstacles in the way, but jeonghan was just charming enough to get away with it.
seungcheol had already spent the past 10+ years with perfect grades and pristine extra curriculars, so he figured that even if he completely flunked these last two semesters, he would still be a shoe-in for the masters program he'd been eyeing since arriving to university.
so now seungcheol was immersed in the frat lifestyle, though he still felt a bit out of place, which unfortunately for cheol, was something his good friend jeonghan noticed immediately. but this would only be a problem for a short while.
unbeknownst to seungcheol, jeonghan had orchestrated a plan for seungcheol's first frat party. it all started with giving seungcheol a bit of a new look. jeonghan insisted on throwing out most of cheol's 'nerdy clothes' (admittedly, he did dress like an old man at times), traded in his thick-rimmed glasses for some better fitting specs and lastly, gave cheol a trim to better frame his face. after all these changes, cheol felt more confident but still did not feel ready to attend one of the frat's well-known parties.
the decision was, however, taken for him, as he found himself in attendance to one just a few days later. also unknown to cheol was that jeonghan had been playing cupid once more, scouting to see which one of his closer girl-friends would be a good fit for his friend. and of course, his attention immediately fell on you.
jeonghan had only known you since the last semester of his junior year, in which the two of you had partnered up for a project that took up the entire fifteen weeks of instruction. the two of you hit it off pretty easily, but you hadn't quite caught his attention in a non-platonic way.
but you had caught someone else's.
although it had only been a fleeting moment, jeonghan caught onto every single look and action that had occurred the day in which seungcheol had accidentally interrupted a study session between the two of you.
he had easily noticed the blush in cheol's cheeks upon seeing you for the first time, along with the way he shyly checked you out when you weren't paying attention. what had surprised him the most, though, had been the way you checked out his friend as he went to leave the room. that had been enough for jeonghan to decide to play matchmaker between the two of you if the opportunity ever arose. and that was now.
getting the two of you alone was not difficult, but jeonghan knew better. he knew that sending the two of you into an empty room, completely blind to whatever he was planning was just a bad idea. so jeonghan decided that for the first time in his life, he would not scheme. he would simply set up the scene and leave the rest to you.
when jeonghan first came up to you a few days back and let you know about his friend's crush on you, you had been pleasantly surprised. what had shocked you the most, though, had been the revelation that jeonghan's cute friend was actually an inexperienced virgin. jeonghan told you to please not bring it up to cheol, but that he felt it was best you knew so you didnt feel caught off guard should you ever try to hit him up (which he knew you would). what jeonghan didnt realize was that this fact excited you more than you'd like to admit.
planting that seed was more than enough to get you looking for cheol in the empty room jeonghan had said he'd be in (okay, maybe he did scheme a little), prepared to deflower the pretty nerd you'd been thinking about every time you started to notice him sitting alone in the library every other day.
you had dressed to the nines, donning a red slip dress that gave you breathing room but still accentuated every part of your body you wished to stand out. ready and confident, you quietly opened the door to what you assumed to be jeonghan's room, knowing you'd find his pretty friend inside.
sitting alone on the bed, seemingly trying to psych himself up as he whispered affirmations to himself, the boy jumped back upon your unexpected intrusion, with his hears instantly turning red at realizing who you were.
you were jeonghan's pretty friend. the one seungcheol had had some unbecoming thoughts about immediately after seeing you in jeonghan's room last semester (and subsequently seeing you around campus as his eyes would unknowingly always search for you). and you looked .... fuck. and you were alone in han's room with him .... and you had closed the door right behind you .... and now you had walked all the way over to where he was sitting at the edge of the bed, not shocked at all to see him there ....
"hi," you smiled at him.
"h– hey."
"are you okay? how come you're here all alone?", you sat next to him on the bed, damning all boundaries, apparently.
"oh, i ... just a little nervous, i guess."
"yeah? of what?", despite the unexpectedness of the situation, you seemed genuinely interested, so seungcheol responded.
"it's, uh, my first party as a member of the frat."
"oh, really? i had no idea you were a member of the frat. that's pretty cool, seungcheol."
"you know my name?"
you scoot closer, smile still on your face, "yeah, of course i know your name. do you now mine?"
"oh, i, uh, yeah ..."
"okay, so we know each other. do you maybe want a friend to go out there with? maybe that would ease your nerves," your hand had somehow made its way to his thigh, now invading his personal space a bit. except he couldnt find it in himself to complain.
"t– that's fine, i, uh, i have han and– "
"but arent i better company?"
"y– you're ..."
"can i be honest with you, seungcheol?", you didnt wait for a response, "hannie told me that maybe you needed some help. that i could maybe help you out?"
"help? what type of help do you mean?"
you leaned in even closer, "do you want me to show you?"
"i ..."
"all you have to say is 'yes', cheollie ...", you breathed out now close enough for him to feel your breath on his lips.
he nodded and made an embarrassing noise of affirmation, completely giving up on speaking.
it was embarrassing how easily he let you turn him into a puddle, not even bothering to question how or why jeonghan orchestrated this situation. but that didnt matter as he finally felt the lips of a woman against his own – your lips; the lips of the girl he'd been crushing on from afar, jealous that maybe you'd become more than jeonghan's classmate. this was a clear declaration that his assertions had been incorrect.
seungcheol wasn't sure what to do with his hands (or with his tongue) as he kissed you. he felt you smile against his lips at his whimper, making feel that maybe you were making fun of him. when you pulled away, he feared that maybe he'd been right.
"cheollie, let me show you, yeah? just let me– yeah, like that", you positioned him in a way that would allow you to straddle him as you said this, wrapping his arms around your waist, "okay now let me show you how to kiss me, okay? just open your mouth a bit for me and let me teach you. then you can try it on me."
with that, you leaned into his open mouth, sticking your tongue inside as you played with his own, sucking on it and causing his eyes to roll back, another embarrassing moan leaving his lips.
"do you wanna try it now?", you asked as you pulled away.
he feared his voice would betray him, so he just nodded before leaning in.
seungcheol mimicked your previous actions, though his were a bit sloppier and more desperate. he whined at the way you sighed and pulled at his hair due to the way in which he suckled at your tongue and squeezed his fingers on your hips.
eventually you began to also kiss him back, making it a battle between your tongues all the while seungcheol tried to keep up.
suddenly your hips began to move against his own, making him groan in pleasure. after that, you leaned over him, causing the two of you to lay on the bed as you practically rode him through your clothes.
cheol couldnt help his cries of pleasure at feeling you press against his now swollen member. he didnt want the feeling to end, so he grabbed onto your hips and helped you in your movements, even grinding his own hips upwards to match you.
"cheollie ... do you want more? hmm? wanna feel what its like?", you purred against his ear while pulling off your dress, leaving you in a tiny bralette and thin panties.
"yes! fuck, please. i'll take whatever you wanna give me, just ..."
"shhh, it's okay. i'll give it to you, pretty. you dont have to beg. want you just as bad," you kissed him again before he could reply.
without him noticing, you had thrown off your bra, something which made him completely blank when you pulled away and began talking to him. none of your words made it through his head. he was far too busy looking at the pretty nude girl in front of him. he salivated at every inch of naked skin, wanting nothing more than to lick and kiss at every curve. out of all parts of your body, his eyes were glued to your tits. the fleeting thought of suffocating in them flew through his head, making him shudder.
"cheol?", you grabbed onto his chin and pointed his gaze towards your own, finally breaking him out of his trance.
you giggled at his confused face, causing him to sheepishly apologize for dozing off.
"it's okay, pretty. i'd be distracted too if i could get all these clothes off you ... that's what i was asking actually, can i?" your hands began to teasingly pull at his top, mangling it a bit so it could expose some skin.
his nod was all you needed to rip off his shirt and pull off his pants with urgency that had seungcheol blushing. after getting him fully naked, you threw off your panties and finally sat against him completely bare. the heat of your skin against his was enough to have him burying his face against your neck and begging you once more to please give it to him.
"shhh. i'll give it to you, pretty. i– i'll give you everything," and with that, you sank down on him, throwing your head back at the intrusion.
meanwhile seungcheol was completely gone. the warmth of your body against his had been one thing, but feeling your heat wrap around him was what truly did him in.
it's not like he had stayed a virgin by choice. he had tried to hit it off with many of the girls jeonghan set him up with, but none of them showed any care for him. they'd all expected him to step up and fuck them. even when he would try to shyly explain that he had never done anything sexual before, he'd just be met with scoffs or laughter. but you had walked him through it. you had complimented him and made him feel comfortable. you had made him see pleasure for the first time in his life.
although these thoughts swam through his head as you fucked yourself on his cock, seungcheol's mind was otherwise completely empty. all he could think about was how good you felt and how pretty you sounded as you threw your head back and pulled at his hair. you were just the embodiment of pleasure.
all cares and worries were gone from his brain until the moment in which he felt all his pleasure reach a peak.
he didn't want to be a fucking loser and cum so soon, but you just felt so fucking good, he couldnt help himself. he cried a warning out to you, to which you encouraged him to let go and told him you'd follow him soon.
his orgasm was something he never couldve imagined. but your own orgasm soon trampled that experience. your tightness as you let yourself go while still wrapped around him had him delirious with pleasure. without meaning to, his nails dug into the skin of your pretty hips as he lost consciousness for a few seconds.
unable to fully process it, he felt a sweet peck against his lips before feeling you cuddle against him. he didnt have to think twice before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.
"remind me to thank that idiot", he spoke up after some moments.
"who, hannie?", you giggled against his chest.
"yeah. he was onto something when he made me get ready in his room."
"oh? he sent me in here looking for you."
"that fucker", he chuckled, "owe him one."
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mapis-putellas · 15 days
Text
Three’s a crowd
Pairing: Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x reader
Words: 3389
Warnings: swearing
Summary: You accidentally tell Ona about your relationship with Ingrid and Mapi despite promising them you’d keep it to yourself. Their reaction is nothing like you expect.
Notes: I’m sorry I’m advance for the terrible Spanish. Also, this may not flow smoothly and I apologise for that. I tried my best!
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"I mean, I'd make out with them but like -platonically, you know?"
"You can't make out with someone platonically, idiota."
"Of course you can! We've done it like, so many times before already. I mean, maybe it was platonic at first, anyway. But it's definitely not now." You wave your hand dismissively. It takes promptly three seconds before you freeze in the midst of shoving your belongings into your back at the words that had just escaped your mouth without meaning to. Eyes widening, you turn to face Ona who was staring at you with a look of pure shock on her face. Her mouth was agape, hands frozen mid air in the midst of pulling off her jersey.
"qué?" Her eyebrow raise.
You panic. "Uhh, nothing. I said nothing," you scramble to collect the rest of your things, hoisting your kitbag onto your shoulder before slowly backing away from her. "You're just hearing things, Ona. I didn't say anything."
You see, this...relationship, or whatever was going on between Mapi, Ingrid and yourself was new. So new, in fact, it didn't quite have a label. In the privacy of their home, you were like any typical throuple. You kissed. Cuddled. Held hands. They'd dote over you and you craved their attention and affection. In public, however, they tended to stay away from you. Not in a mean way. A least, you didn't think so anyway. Sure they'd speak to you. Pull you into he occasional side hug if you did particularly well in training. Soft, subtle smiles would be shared between the three of you.
But that was it, and that was okay. It was just easier that way anyway. Nobody questioned you; talked you into thinking that maybe joining their relationship wasn't the best idea. You were already going a good enough job of that yourself, after all, and the rumours and speculations that would surely appear if started being affectionate in public certainly wouldn’t help.
It wasn't like you didn't want to be with them, because you very much did. It was just...they were perfect together. Had been together for years before bringing you into the mix. What did you bring into this...relationship that they didn't already have?
The answer was nothing.
Perhaps that train of thought wasn't fair, you thought. It had only been a month, after all. A month was nothing. It was why you'd chosen to remain silent. That way, you wouldn't cause any issues.
"ey ey ey, no," her hand grabs your arm, preventing you from making your escape. "You are not going anywhere chica. Sentarse." She all but demands, pointing your cubby.
"No, Ona," you futility attempt to free your arm. Ingrid was going to kill you. Literally murder you before bringing you back to clean up the mess. Both she and Mapi had asked you to keep this to yourself, and you'd broken their trust before talking without thinking. You and your stupid big mouth.
"Really. I have to go. I said I would-"
Ona shakes her head, effectively cutting you off mid sentence. "Sentarse." She says again, sounding less amused than she had before. It has you shrinking in place, but yet, your stubbornness has you once again shaking your head.
"No. I'm not a dog." The door was just there. Your eyes desperately flicker around the room in hopes of finding something that would distract the defender so you make a break for it.
"Y/n, I swear-"
"What is going on?" A new voice fills the room, and both your heads turn at the sound. At the sight of Mapi standing before you, tanned, tattooed arms crossed against her chest, your eyes wide almost comically. Oh shit. Shit shit shit. You were dead. You were so dead.
Mapi's eyes flicker from Ona's face to her grasp around your arm, prompting the defender for sigh heavily before dropping it. She turns and sits, bending down to begin removing her boots. The knowing smirk on her face was hidden. She knew it.
"Qué está pasando?" Mapi asks again, dropping her arms and making her over to you. You instinctively take a small step closer to her, staring at Ona with pleading eyes when she looks up and makes eye contact. She stares right back at you for a few moments before sighing lightly and shaking her head, rising to her feet and tugging off her jersey.
"Nada," she finally speaks, and you let out a subconscious breath of relief as feel your heart beginning to settle in your chest. Crises averted. For now, anyway.
Mapi eyes Ona for a second before nodding and turning to face you. You don't seem to realise the look of concern still etched on your face, but the Spaniard decides that for now, she'd drop the subject in an effort to prevent furthering your impending panic.
"Are you ready to go?" She asks instead, and you nod, allowing her to place a steady hand on the small of your back to guide you out of the locker room. You glance back at Ona who just so happened to be staring right back at you. She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head slightly to the side in question, and you nod, the defender mimicking it before focusing her attention back to her kitbag.
"Ingrid is in the car already." Mapi tells you in her heavily accented English as you make your way outside, her hand absentmindedly trailing up and down your back in a subconscious action of comfort.
You hum does little to comfort her.
"What happened, amor?" She gently pulls you to a stop, her hand on your hip gently coaxing you to face her. You comply, albeit a little hesitantly, eyes focusing on the tattoo on her neck. Looks can be deceiving. They could be indeed. A small part of you admittedly wants to tell her, but you figure doing so and spilling your guts and in the middle of a car park with all your teammates surrounding you wouldn't be the best idea.
"Later?" You plead instead, and though the Spaniard hesitates, she nods her head and once again starts guiding you back to her car with her hand on the small of your back. The remainder of the walk was completed in silence, Mapi opening the trunk of her car allowing you to dump your kitbag in the there along with Ingrid's and her own before opening the back passenger door.
You slip inside with a tight smile and without your usual kiss to her cheek in thanks, and the defender finds herself frowning as she closes the door and makes her way round to the drivers side, completely missing your less than enthusiastic greeting to Ingrid. You settle in the back with your headphones in, perhaps a not so mature response, but one you deemed necessary to get your thoughts together before the inevitable conversation ahead.
"Is she okay?" The Norwegian questions, glancing back a you in concern. She doesn't normally like talking about you with you in such close proximity, but she figures due to the loud music currently emanating from your headphones that you wouldn't be able to hear them. Besides, she was only doing so out of concern.
Mapi shrugs, "no sé. Ona said something, I think. Said something she did not mean to, maybe?" Her eyes follow Ingrid's for a second before she starts the car, pulling out of her parking space with relative ease. The plan had been for you to stay with them tonight, so she purposely misses the turn to your apartment and continues straight to theirs.
"Ona said something to her?" Ingrid frowns.
"Sí. She look like, how you say..." Mapi tightens her hands around the steering wheel, "como un ciervo atrapado en los faros?"
"A dear caught in headlights?" Ingrid responds, and Mapi nods.
"Sí." The Spaniard confirms.
Ingrid reaches out and places a steady hand on the defenders thigh, giving the bare, tanned skin a soft squeeze. "Did you ask?"
Mapi nods as she eases the car to a stop at a red light. "Talk later, she said. So obstinada." She grumbles.
Ingrid couldn't help but smile, "Like you, you mean?" She teases, earning herself a playful punch to the arm.
"She is worse." The Spaniard grumbles, and Ingrid laughs softly.
With a quiet sigh, you place your AirPod back into your ear. You were stubborn, she was right. But it wasn't like you weren't willing to talk about it. You just didn't want to do so where there was a risk somebody would hear.
The looming conversation ahead seemed way more daunting now.
*
"Go shower, bebé," Mapi finally breaks the silence as Ingrid closes the front door and locks it behind her, and you nod mutely as you kick of your shoes and make your way down the hall to their bathroom. Their bathroom. Ingrid and Mapi's. Not yours. That thought alone makes your eyes burn with tears.
Pathetic.
You miss the look of concern shared between both women share as you close the bathroom door behind you.
"I need to text Ona." Mapi murmurs as she pulls out her phone, a gentle hand resting atop of her own stopping her in her tracks.
"Qué?"
Ingrid shakes her head, "I know it's hard, but you need to let her come to us. It's obvious that she doesn't want us to know what happened with her and Ona, and we need to respect that. Forcing her to talk will only end badly."
Mapi sighs, knowing her girlfriend was right. Still, she couldn't help but push.
"But, what if-”
"No, kjære," Ingrid takes both Mapi's hand in her own and squeezes. "Let her come to us."
"Sí, mi amor."
Both knew the topic of conversation between you and Ona had evidently been about them. If not, you would have come to them. Just like you had when Lucy had said something to upset you. It wasn't like you to push them away. Mapi knew that. She also knew Ingrid was right about letting you come to them, despite her reluctance to do everything possible to figure out what was going on.
"Okay. Go find us a movie to watch. I'll make a start on diner." Ingrid places a soft kiss against the Spaniards cheek before disappearing through to the kitchen. Mapi watches her go before letting out a quiet sigh and curling up on the corner of the couch, picking up the remote to turn on the tv.
You finish with your shower long before Ingrid finishes with dinner, and you appear in the threshold of the living room clad in both their clothes. Ingrid's sweater, and Mapi's sweatpants, your hair wet and hanging down by your face.
Mapi gestures you over with one of those smiles that makes you melt, "Let me do your hair, amor. Sit." She opens her legs and pats the spot in between them. Your reluctance was evident as you comply, placing your hands on either of the Spaniards thighs as you settle and allow her to start combing through your hair.
"Dinner smells good." You finally find it within you to talk as you feel Mapi's fingers beginning to part your hair with the intention of braiding it. You didn't like leaving your hair down to sleep, and you found it endearing that Mapi had somehow remembered that fact despite it being weeks since you’d told her.
"Mhh," Mapi hums, "huele deliciosa." She agrees.
After tying off your hair with a hair tie, Mapi's tattooed arms loop around your waist, her hands clasped together against your stomach. You expect her to talk. To push you into opening up about what had happened earlier. But she surprisingly does neither. She simply rests her chin against your shoulder and presses a kiss to your cheek before once again picking up the remote.
"You pick." She mumbles into your ear, and you nod, eyes skimming over the screen.
Ingrid makes her way into the room just as you'd decided on the lion king, carrying a plate in either hand. She hands one off to both you and Mapi before once again disappearing and returning with her own.
It was pasta. Your favourite.
"Gracias." Mapi grins, settling back against the couch with you still between her legs and shoving a large forkful of food into her mouth.
Ingrid stares at you with a smile, one you couldn't help but mimic as you both watch the Spaniard stuff her face. Knowing you were in the way, you shift yourself over Mapi's leg and settle on the couch between them instead.
You ignore Mapi's playful pout at the action.
"Thank you." You whisper, and Ingrid smiles again as she gives your thigh a squeeze.
"You're welcome, elskling."
It didn't take long before dinner was quickly demolished, three empty plates sat on the coffee table as the three of you lay comfortably on the couch. You were in between Ingrid's legs now, your back to her chest with one of her arms wrapped securely around your waist. Mapi was curled up next you both, her head on Ingrid's shoulder as the Norwegian combs her fingers through her hair.
The defenders arm was thrown lazily over your stomach, tattooed hand resting on the gentle curve of your waist. Your own hand settles on top of her arm, the pad of your thumb trailing over warm skin. 
The silence between you was comfortable. You were comfortable. So much so you almost want to bring up the elephant in the room. It couldn’t be that bad, right?
You sit up suddenly, yanking yourself out of both woman's grip. Mapi whines unhappily, but Ingrid nudges her softly as she shakes her head and sits up too.
Understanding, Mapi sighs lightly and forces herself to sit in front of you, her rear end perched on the edge of the coffee table. She tries to take your hands, but frowns when you gently push them away.
"I told Ona." You blurt out.
Ingrid's eyes widen, but you didn't need to see it to know she was disappointed. You could tell by the way an alarmed Mapi meets her gaze over your shoulder. You desperately try and fix your mistake.
"Well, I didn't tell her. We were talking, and it just slipped out. I didn't mean for it to happen. I swear. It was just a joke. I mean, it wasn't a joke. I was just trying to tell her a joke. That's when it happened. Please don't be mad. Or well, you can be mad. I betrayed your trust. But please don't be mad. It was an accident, I swear." You weren't aware that you had started crying until you feel Mapi's hands cup your cheeks and wipe away your tears.
Her hands were warm, and you relish in the feeling as you force yourself to take a few breaths. Ingrid's arms, you now notice, were tight around you too, her hands beneath your shirt resting on the bare skin of your stomach. You inhale and exhale, feeling her hands move with you.
"It is okay," Mapi was the first to speak, scooting a little closer and moving her hands to rest on either of your thighs. You desperately cling to to them with your own. "I am not mad. And Ingrid is not too, right?"
"Right." The Norwegian murmurs in your ear, her chin hooked over your shoulder. Her hair tickles your cheek.
"But I told..." You whisper, your voice breaking slightly, leaning back into Ingrid as much as your body would allow.
"Sí. You did," Mapi agrees. "But it was an accident, no? You did not mean to."
"Mapi's right, elskling."
"I always am." Mapi smirks, and you couldn't help but laugh when Ingrid playfully kicks her with her foot.
"She is right,” Ingrid repeats. “We are not mad at you. Being mad at you for something you didn't mean to do would be stupid. And besides, it's about time we start letting people know, mhhh?"
You blink, craning your head to the side so you were more or less looking Ingrid in the eye. She stares down at you, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to your nose. It scrunches up at the action, and both she and Mapi share a look when you flush and bashfully stare down at your lap. When Mapi reaches out to take your hands again, this time you let her.
"You want to tell people? About us?" You murmur.
This was not how you thought this conversation would go.
"Mhh," Ingrid nods. "Sí." Mapi agrees.
"But, what if..." you trail off.
"What if what, amor? Talk to us, por favor." Mapi coaxes, squeezing your hands again. You look up at her, and she smiles oh so gently at you it has your mouth opening before you could give it permission to do so.
"People will talk. About us. And that won't bother me, not really. But I don't want you guys to change your mind. You were perfect before, and I don't exactly bring anything to the table." You admit.
"Baby, no. Do not think like that. This is new, yes, but that does not mean we have any doubts," Ingrid starts, her frown identical to Mapi's whose eyes have grown shiny at your words. "I can almost guarantee people will talk. That's just what they do when they see something that they're not used to. But that doesn't mean their opinions matter."
You nod, feeling something inside you slotting into place.
"My opinion, yours, Ingrid's are what matter amor. If we are happy, then that is all that matters, sí?"
"Sí." You nod.
"You are happy?" Mapi pushes, and you nod with a genuine smile. "Bueno. Now stand, por favor." She holds her hands out for you to take, and you place your own into them allowing her to easily pull you to your feet. With a kiss to your forehead, she takes your place in between Ingrid's legs and tugs on the material of your sweater to pull you closer.
You yet again comply, ending up sat on her lap with your legs either side of her hips atop of Ingrid's thighs. Mapi's arms loop tightly around your waist, holding you tightly to them both, and you melt in their embrace as you rest your head against her shoulder.
Ingrid's face was just millimetres away from your own, and you smile when you feel her lips press softly against the top of your head.
"Something to the table. What does that mean?" Mapi settles back into Ingrid when she feels the Norwegian secure her arms around both herself and you.
Your eyes rip open. Damn. You hoped they wouldn't bring this part up. When Ingrid remains silent, it becomes clear she expects you to answer Mapi's question. So with a sigh, you do.
"It's an idiom. It means to do something that will benefit others." You mumble, less than happy.
Mapi's eyebrows furrow.
"You do not think you benefit us?" She places her hands on each of your sides and gently tugs your upper body away from her. You let her, but not without a pout and refusing to meet her eyes.
"Bebé, look at me por favor."
You shake your head.
"Elskling." Ingrid's warning voice echos around the room along with her fingers tapping gently under your chin, and you sigh heavily as you comply with the Spaniards words. Mapi's eyes immediately meet your own, but they didn't hold the stern look Ingrid's did.
"You do not think you benefit us?" She asks again, and you hesitate to shake your head.
"Por qué?"
"I don't know. I just...your relationship was perfect before me." You fumble with the chain hanging from Mapi's neck.
"No relationship is perfect, my love." Ingrid cuts in, Mapi nodding in agreement. "We love each other, yes. But all couples have their issues. Including us."
"If anything, being with you only makes us stronger. Because now there's three of us, instead of two. Meaning there is lots more love and time to go around." Ingrid hand grips your thigh and squeezes. You rest your own on top of it, gripping her fingers and squeezing hard.
Mapi nuzzles her nose with your own for a second before dropping her head back onto Ingrid's shoulder. "You make us better, sí?" She reaches up and cups your cheek, her thumb grazing gently over the still damp skin.
Your lips quirk up into a hesitant smile.
"There's that smile." Ingrid coos, and you flush slightly as you fall forward into their arms, hiding your face into the Spaniards neck. Mapi grins as she cups the back of your head, and Ingrid mimics is as she presses a kiss to her cheek.
"Our girl."
**
@ktgoodmorning @goldenempyrean @girlgenius1111 @alexias-putellas @mapis-russo @wileys-russo
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nevernonline · 11 days
Text
✧.* how to lose the girl; xmh
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synopsis: minghao was feeling tired of shallow relationships. his friends, noticing his frustration, challenge him to pursue a girl and then push her away within ten days. intrigued by the idea, he reluctantly accepts the bet as a fun challenge.
part of my ninety minute movies one shot series. ♡���
paring/s: afab reader x non-idol hao.
genre/s: humor (sort of lmao), low-key fuckboy hao
warning/s: alcohol consumption, some bad jokes, nothing too bad or seggsy
word count: 10.3k
content: all the vibes of how to lose a guy in ten days but nawt. enjoy xo!
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Day 1 - The Bet
In the lively heart of the city, Minghao, was out flaunting his charming looks and a playful grin, typically on his much too expensive and lavish work lunches which gave him and the rest of his colleges an excuse to pick up a bunch of beautiful women to take home every night, a lot of them falling hard for him no matter how poorly he left them hanging the morning after. But lately, he noticed how he always found himself drowning in a sea of shallow connections, and it was starting to wear on him.
Sensing his distress, his friends hatched an interesting plan to inject some excitement into his love life: they dared him to make a girl fall for him and then push her away in just ten days! “No way in fucking hell could he pull this off, he’ll get bored by day four.” jeered one friend, gleefully rubbing his hands together. With a mix of reluctance and curiosity bubbling inside him, Minghao accepted, eager to see how fast he could make a girl sprint for the exit.
Across town, y/n was navigating her own challenges. She was as her friends described a fierce, independent powerhouse who was on a mission to conquer the advertising world and prove to her office overrun by male colleagues that she meant business. Relationships? She just viewed them for what they were distractions in her quest for success—something she simply couldn’t afford. With her sights set on her career, she was about to discover just how unpredictable life and love could be when the most unexpected challenges came knocking. 
Day 2 - The Meeting
Minghao first spotted Y/n at a coffee shop, her eyes glued to her laptop as she furiously typed, rather loudly should he add. He decided she would be the perfect target. Something about her tight lipped focused face, her hair perfectly slicked into a ponytail, not a hair out of place, something about her felt more like a challenge than a perfect sweep for his bet. 
He approached her with his trademark smile, confident and carefree. “Is this seat taken?” he asked, gesturing toward the empty chair across from her. y/n looked up, a mix of annoyance and intrigue in her gaze. 
“Actually, yes,I don’t care to do my work around a fuck boy flirting with me, my office has enough of those. Have a good day.” she replied bluntly, not ready to be derailed from her work.
Minghao, undeterred by her obvious dismissal, sat down anyway. “I’m Minghao,” he introduced himself. “And I think you owe me a chance to change your mind.”
She raised an eyebrow, still looking down at her computer, typing a bit less loud now, almost as if she was intrigued and didn’t want him to know but the scowl on her face said she was still skeptical. “Oh, really? And how do you plan to do that?”
With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned in closer. “Let’s just say I have a few tricks up my sleeve,” he replied playfully. “But first, you’ll have to let me take you on a perfect first date.”
Y/n almost chuckled at his audacity, but there was an undeniable spark of intrigue in her gaze. Little did she know, mingling with Minghao was about to shake up her life. 
“Fine. If that will get you to leave me alone while I work, I’ll agree.” 
“I’m not leaving here until I get your contact information,” Minghao laughed. 
Rolling her eyes, Y/n dug through her wallet, searching for a business card. “Here,” she said, finally pulling one out and extending it towards him.
But Minghao just held his hand up in a stop-motion gesture, shaking his head. “No, not a business card. I need to know you’ll actually show up, so let me have your personal phone number instead.”
Y/n stared at him, incredulity mixing with a lingering smile. “Oh, so bold. And what makes you think I will?”
“Because,” he leaned closer, his expression earnest now, “I have a feeling that once you get to know me, you won’t want to miss out. Plus, if I leave with a business card, how will I ever convince you to let me take you on that perfect date?”
Her skepticism flickered for a second under the brightness of his confidence, but she still hesitated. “You really think you can convince me?”
“Absolutely,” he replied, his tone teasing yet sincere. “And if I fail, I promise I’ll leave you alone forever. Deal?”
For a moment, Y/n pondered the spontaneity of his request, weighing the pros and cons. Finally, a grin broke free on her lips as she typed her number into his phone, the anticipation of the unknown sparking excitement within her. “Alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, handing back the phone with a hint of warning in her tone.
Minghao's eyes lit up with genuine delight as he saved her contact. “You won’t regret this,” he promised, his voice softening a touch.
As he returned the phone to her, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter of uncertainty mixed with exhilaration. Perhaps there was something to this spontaneous gamble after all. Little did they know, that simple decision would pave the way for an unforgettable connection and adventures neither had anticipated.
Day 3 - The Chase
Over the days that followed, Minghao played his part, showering her with attention that ranged from over-the-top romantic gestures to quirky surprises. He brought her favorite pastries to the office, sent her memes that made her laugh, and even bombarded her with cheesy pick-up lines. Each time, Y/n found herself torn between annoyance and amusement.
At first, she had tried to brush him off, responding to his texts with one-word replies or simply ignoring his more audacious attempts to brighten her day. However, Minghao persisted, his cheerful determination almost unwavering. One afternoon, she returned from a long meeting to find her desk decorated with colorful sticky notes adorned with doodles and handwritten compliments. “You’re the best part of my day,” one note claimed, and despite her initial irritation, a small smile tugged at her lips.
Minghao was relentless, his charm starting to break down her walls. She had to admit there was something about him—he was refreshingly carefree, unlike the uptight guys she usually dated. While others might have tried to impress her with their accomplishments or flashy gifts, Minghao found ways to make her laugh, embracing a lightheartedness that was both refreshing and frightening. But Y/n was determined to keep him at arm's length; she had a career to focus on.
Still, the more time they spent chatting, the more she found herself looking forward to his texts. Each meme and quirky voice note felt less like an intrusion and more like a highlight of her day. One evening, after a particularly grueling week, she found herself daydreaming about a potential picnic under the stars, something Minghao had suggested a few days prior.
“No, no,” she chastised herself, shaking her head as she turned her attention to her laptop. “Stay focused.” 
Yet, every time she tried to immerse herself in her work, her mind would inevitably wander back to him. The way he laughed, the warmth in his gaze, even the way he playfully challenged her every now and then—there was an undeniable pull that made it hard to ignore him.
On a particularly busy Friday, while sipping her coffee and reviewing a presentation, she felt her phone vibrate on the desk. A message appeared: “Hey, just thought you might want to know that your favorite pastry is waiting at the corner café. No obligations. Just a little pick-me-up to start your weekend. 😊”
Y/n's heart softened, a flutter of appreciation sweeping through her. “Okay, this is getting ridiculous,” she muttered to herself, trying to suppress the smile creeping onto her face. Maybe she could allow herself a moment of distraction.
She quickly glanced at the time and the empty office around her, nobody here really worked on the weekends aside from herself so she decided to take a break just this once. With a random jolt of excitement, she stood up, brushed aside her work-related thoughts, and headed to the café. She spotted him sitting comfortably at a small table, a bright smile illuminating his face. Before she could even say a word, he raised a pastry in greeting, “I didn’t know if you liked it warm or cold, so I got one of each, just to be safe!”
Her laughter bubbled out despite herself. “You really didn’t have to do this.”
“But I did, you mentioned to me the other day you never have fun on the weekends anymore because you're busy working, ” Minghao countered, setting the pastries down and leaning back in his chair. “Life's too short not to indulge in the little things. Besides, you're worth it.”
His words stirred something in her, something she had kept buried under layers of practicality. A mix of anxiety and excitement danced in her chest as they shared bits of pastry and stories, laughter weaving between them effortlessly. And for the first time in what felt like ages, Y/n considered that perhaps life wasn’t just about hard work and career goals—it could also be about spontaneous moments and unexpected connections.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting warm hues of orange and pink across the café, Y/n let herself enjoy the moment, her defenses slowly crumbling, piece by piece. “Want to go for a drink? Unless you have plans or something?” 
“You’re asking me out? Wow, Y/n, I’m pleasantly surprised. I’d actually enjoy that. Big boss lady is paying, right?” Minghao pressed, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.
Y/n rolled her eyes, but a laugh escaped her lips. “Very funny. I should have known you’d want to make this about money,” she teased, her heart racing slightly at the thought of stepping into the realm of casual dating.
“I’m kidding. But you know I’d never let you cover the whole tab, right?” he replied, his voice playful yet sincere. “How about we split it? One thing I’ve learned is that relationships, friendships or otherwise, are all about balance.” 
“That sounds fair but please let me get it actually I feel a little bad about you always paying anyway. Plus, I asked you. That's how it works right?,” she agreed, her spirit lifted by his lightheartedness. “Where do you want to go?” 
“I know this cozy little bar just around the corner. They have some cool drinks and the vibes are good,” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “Plus, I’ve heard they serve a mean nacho platter.”
“Nachos and drinks sound perfect. Wow- I hate that I actually got excited by a fucking macho platter, but okay.” she replied, feeling a surge of excitement and momentary embarrassment over some fucking chips with cheese. She was surprised at how nervous yet invigorated she felt. 
As they walked to the bar, the warm evening air enveloped them like a casual embrace. With every step beside him, Y/n felt the weight of her daily grind lift. “So, what’s your go-to cocktail?” she asked, surprisingly eager to keep the chatter flowing.
“I’d say I’m a classic and simple beer or wine dude, but I’m always game for something a bit off the beaten path. You?” 
“Dirty martini,” she answered, a proud smile crossing her face. “Simple but sophisticated.” 
“Ah, the big boss lady indeed. But the real question is gin or vodka?” He winked, and for a moment, she felt herself blush, something she hadn’t experienced in ages. 
“Vodka, but shut you fucking mouth and don’t tell any martini enthusiasts. Extra dry, extra dirty.” 
“Not extra wet and extra dirty?” 
Y/n nearly choked on her own spit, watching his face crinkle into a big smile before they erupted into laughter. 
They snagged a small table tucked away in a corner, perfect for engaging in their own little world. 
After placing their orders, conversations flowed as smoothly as the drinks. Minghao effortlessly switched between sharing amusing anecdotes about his life and asking Y/n about hers, genuinely interested in her career aspirations and what fueled her passions. With every laugh they exchanged and each shared story, Y/n found herself relaxing more, drawn into his effortless charm. 
“Alright, I need the truth,” Minghao said, leaning in as if about to share a juicy secret. “What’s your biggest guilty pleasure?” 
Y/n took a moment, contemplating her answer before finally admitting, “Reality TV. It’s a little bit shameful, I know, but there’s something about the drama that I can’t resist.” 
Minghao laughed heartily, the sound filling her with warmth. “No shame in that. I actually can’t lie and say I don’t enjoy watching Love Island. I’m more of a cooking show fan, to be honest. Nothing quite like watching people fail spectacularly while I sit there eating takeout as if I can cook this shit myself.”
“Okay, we’re definitely going to have a night where I introduce you to some of the best reality stars of all time, where you will sit and not fucking complain. And since I can cook, I will go hell's kitchen style on the stove. ” she declared, a playful challenge glimmering in her eyes. 
“Hey, look I’m game, but only if you let me judge your cooking like I’m the god himself Ramsay.” he exclaimed, his excitement unmistakable. “Just let me know when. I’ll bring the snacks and the commentary.”
As the evening progressed, they shared stories about childhood memories, dreams, and the quirks that made them who they were. With each revelation, Y/n felt a deeper connection forming, an understanding that perhaps taking a little time away from work wouldn’t derail her ambitions after all. 
Maybe it was time to let a little chaos in, she thought, as their conversation twisted and turned down unexpected paths, igniting sparks of joy she hadn’t anticipated, making her question everything she thought she knew about herself and about love.
Minghao got the vibe that his little plan for making Y/n fall for him could potentially end up with him feeling the same way, but not yet. He pushed that feeling deep down inside his gut, almost like he could hide it from everyone, including himself. His heart raced with excitement, but mingled with a twinge of anxiety. He didn’t want to rush things or scare her off with his burgeoning feelings. Just because she was opening up didn’t mean she was ready for more, and he wanted to tread carefully even if it was just to fuck around for a bet with his friends. 
“So, Y/n, since you’re not working tomorrow, want to come hang out at my place for a bit? Have a nightcap? Maybe watch a movie or something?” Minghao questioned, his voice casual, but the flicker of anticipation in his eyes betrayed him.
Y/n hesitated for a moment, the prospect of going to his place stirring a mix of excitement and nerves within her. She knew this was a step beyond their playful banter, a leap into a territory where she would need to confront what she was feeling. But the words “why not?” danced on the tip of her tongue. 
“Sure, I’d love that,” she replied, a hint of eagerness surprising even herself. “But fair warning, if we’re watching a movie, it has to be a good one. Nothing corny please.”
“Oh come on, you seem like you’d love a good rom-com, I can tell.” Minghao laughed, and she found herself laughing along, the playful banter feeling natural and comforting.
As they bickered back and forth about their movie preferences, Y/n felt a flutter of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him. Maybe this was the chaos she needed in her life—this lighthearted connection that sparked something new and exhilarating.
“I know just the film to break your resistance,” Minghao declared, raising an eyebrow mischievously. “Prepare yourself for a classic, then. I think you’ll love it, it’s one of my favorites.” 
“Alright, I’ll take your word for it. But if it’s as terrible as I imagine, you owe me.” Y/n countered playfully, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. 
“Deal.” he shot back with a cheeky grin, and the two clinked their glasses together in agreement, the camaraderie between them solidifying.
As they finished their drinks and shared a few more laughs, Y/n couldn’t shake off the feeling that this was just the beginning—like an entrance into a world she had pushed away for too long, forever maybe.. And Minghao, with his undeniable charm and knack for fun, was animating a side of her she had almost forgotten existed.
After wrapping up the evening at the bar, they stepped back into the cool night air. The streets were softly illuminated, the stars twinkling overhead, creating an atmosphere that was very special. As they walked side by side toward Minghao's apartment, the distance felt comfortable, but somehow charged with an undercurrent of anticipation.
“Y/n,” Minghao said, breaking the gentle silence, “I know we’ve only just started hanging out, but I just want to make sure you feel okay about this. I mean, about coming over.” He glanced at her, his expression earnest. “No pressure at all—I just genuinely enjoy your company.I’m not trying to be a player or whatever you assumed I was when we first met.”
His sincerity made her heart flutter. “I’m glad you said that, but it was fuck boy and you maybe have proved yourself beyond that title. I enjoy this too, and I think it’ll be fun to hang out more and get to know you. Just…uh, promise you wont judge me too harshly if I end up hogging the blanket during the movie or talking with popcorn in my mouth or something.” 
“Fair warning accepted,” he replied, a teasing gleam in his eye. “I might have to initiate a blanket-sharing strategy, I think we can make it work.” 
They both laughed, the playful energy crackling between them as they approached his building. Maybe she could allow herself to embrace this unexpected chaos, to explore a connection without overthinking it for once. And who knows? Perhaps Minghao wouldn’t just be a passing ship but a delightful step into a new chapter of her life. 
As they stepped into his cozy apartment, Y/n tucked that thought away for later, intent on simply enjoying the moment—and the thrill of where it might lead them.
Minghao took her coat off her shoulders, hanging it on the small black hooks by his front door. Sliding his own off gently placing them side by side. Instructing her where to place her shoes and bag on the marble entry table donning photos of his friends and family. 
“Your apartment is really cute, I can tell you like living here. It has a warm feel to it.” 
“Yeah, I do,” Minghao smiled taking in a whiff of his tobacco scented room spray, and grabbing y/n’s hand to lead her into his living room, taking a brief stop at his bar cart and grabbing a bottle of wine, while handing her two glasses to carry in her empty hand. 
The aroma of the wine filled the space as he poured their glasses, the deep crimson liquid swirling beautifully.
Minghao grinned, taking a sip of his own before handing one of the glasses over to her. Their fingers brushed for a moment, sending a spark of electricity that made her smile shyly. “Make yourself comfortable. I’ll grab the remote.”
Y/n settled onto the couch, sinking into the overly plush cushions. She took a moment to look around, noting the way the soft lighting cast a warm glow over the walls adorned with art—pieces that seemed to reflect Minghao’s adventurous spirit, each one telling a story.
When he returned, remote in hand, he plopped down beside her, his warmth radiating through her as he casually leaned back, scrolling through his streaming options. “Alright, let’s see what we have here. Brace yourself for my fucking unmatched taste in cinema,” he teased, glancing at her with a twinkle in his eye.
“Give me all that you got, I’m ready,” she replied with playful confidence, leaning into the moment.
With a few flicks of the remote, they settled on a classic action-comedy. The opening credits rolled as they adjusted their seats, finding a naturally comfortable closeness. The shared space between them began to feel charged with anticipation. 
As the film began, they laughed together at the antics on screen, occasionally glancing at each other, enjoying the laughter as a bridge between their hearts. Every shared chuckle seemed to layer on the connection that was forming, an unspoken understanding lacing the air around them.
“Minghao, I, uh have got to admit, this isn’t what I expected tonight,” Y/n said during a quiet moment, her eyes sparkling. “But I’m really glad it worked out and that I met you.”
“Yeah? Really? Me too,” he replied, his gaze softening as he turned to her. “I’ve wanted to hang out like this for a while. I wasn’t sure if you’d feel the same, but I’m glad we did. I’m glad I forced you to give me your phone number that day.” 
Y/n felt a warmth spread through her chest at his honesty. She had been guarded for so long, and here was Minghao, effortlessly peeling away at her layers with every shared moment.
As the movie progressed, he reached for the popcorn bowl perched on the coffee table, offering it to her. Their fingers brushed again, igniting an electric thrill that danced between them. The film faded into the background as Y/n found herself getting lost in the depths of his gaze.
“Okay, I’ll admit,” she began, leaning in slightly, “your blanket-sharing strategy may be your ultimate plan to seduce me. I see you.”
Minghao chuckled, taking her playful jab in stride. “Guilty as charged. What can I say? Who could resist a cozy blanket and beautiful company?” He pulled the soft throw from behind the couch, draping it over their laps.
As he settled back beside her, their shoulders nudged together under the blanket, his hand wrapped around her thigh and Y/n felt her heart race. There was an undeniable chemistry in the air, palpable like the fragrance of the wine swirling around them. 
Without thinking too much about it, she rested her head on his shoulder, throwing her hair back to reveal her neck—not as a move, just a way to make herself more comfortable. As she leaned in, she caught the subtle scent of Minghao’s cologne, warm and inviting, and felt the gentle rise and fall of his shoulder beneath her cheek. It was a small gesture, yet it felt so natural, almost like an instinctive draw to his warmth.
Minghao looked down at her with a side eye, surprised at how effortlessly they had crossed this invisible line. He couldn’t help but notice how soft her skin looked under the low light and the way her eyes widened with joy as she laughed at the antics on the screen. Her laughter was contagious, reverberating through him and making his heart race a little faster, a little louder in the calm of the room.
Suddenly, Minghao felt an unfamiliar pang of anxiety creep into his chest. The bet had seemed innocent—a way to explore the chemistry simmering between them—but now it felt like a threaded line tugging at him in different directions. Maybe the bet was a bad idea after all, because now he felt himself falling for someone without knowing what could come next, just like that. It was as if he had opened a door to an inevitable chaos while still trying to remain in control.
Yet every time she shifted slightly against him, every laugh that slipped from her lips, deepened the connection he felt. He had initially thought he’d be the one charming her, the one doing the chasing, but here they were, and Y/n’s mere presence had knocked him off his feet. It startled him, this flicker of vulnerability—that maybe he wasn’t just playing a game; he was investing real emotions.
“You okay?” Y/n murmured, tilting her head up to meet his gaze, her brow slightly furrowed as she noticed the contemplative look on his face.
He quickly masked his thoughts with an easygoing smile. “Yeah, just caught up in the movie,” he replied, trying to divert her attention. “The action scenes are really intense, right?”
Though she seemed to accept his diversion with a playful nod, he could see the hint of curiosity lingering in her eyes, a flash that told him she sensed something in the air between them. A moment of silence stretched between them like a tightly pulled string, neither of them willing to break it. Instead, they allowed the movie to fill the space, as he leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips. Something subtle and quick that was just perfect for the moment and wouldn’t derail the nice night they were sharing, he wasn’t ready for that yet. 
As the film progressed, Y/n shifted again, curling her body towards him slightly as a particularly funny scene played out, her laughter bubbling forth. It was that unfiltered joy he found intoxicating—a refreshing reminder that life could be this light, this fun, and maybe even a little crazy.
Day 4 - The Competition
During a group outing with friends, Minghao decided to reveal the second phase of his plan: he started being annoyingly competitive. “Let’s have a game night.” he declared, his voice ringing with enthusiasm as he rallied everyone around him. "I challenge you all to a series of ridiculous contests, from karaoke battles to board games. Losers buy the drinks." There was a mixture of excitement and groans from the group, but Minghao was unfazed. He thrived in this atmosphere, eager to galvanize Y/n into joining him in the chaos.
Y/n, who he knew hated losing, found herself reluctantly swept up in the energy of the night. A glimmer of excitement sparked in her eyes, even as she partnered with Minghao, who pretended to be completely uninterested in the competition. She could see the mischievous glint behind his facade, his playfulness luring her in.
As they tackled their first karaoke challenge, Minghao grabbed the microphone. He belted out an off-key rendition of her favorite song, doing little to hide his comedic flair. “You're fucking terrible at this.” Y/n teased him, trying to contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sight of his unfiltered enthusiasm.
“Maybe I’m just trying to get you to help me improve,” Minghao shot back, his smile never wavering. He pointed the microphone at her cheekily, inviting her to join in. The playful energy between them was palpable, the laughter of their friends helped her gain confidence.
Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t quell the smile creeping onto her lips. “You know I fucking suck at singing, right?” she joked, hopping up on stage beside him. In a moment of spontaneity, she grabbed the microphone and took the lead, pouring her heart into the next part of the song, using her off-key notes as a comedic backdrop. Her confidence radiated, and soon the others joined in, clapping and singing along.
The laughter and energy of the room felt electric, and for a moment, the competition melted away, leaving only joy. The night continued with a series of board games and ridiculous challenges, each one causing Minghao to lean in closer to Y/n as they plotted ways to win. 
 “What’s your game plan?” he whispered to her, though the intensity of his smile hinted he was thoroughly enjoying the game itself more than he let on. The way his eyes sparkled made her heart race a little, stirring a thrill she hadn’t anticipated and in that moment all she wanted to do was wipe the smirk off his face with her lips.
“Honestly? I think our only plan is to distract the other teams with our charm,” Y/n replied, gesturing theatrically. “We’re clearly the most entertaining, so I kind of like it. It's a sweep.”
Minghao laughed, and the sound resonated in her chest. “Perfect strategy.” He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against hers as they whispered strategies into the fray of friendly competition raging around them.
As the night wore on, the playful banter and friendly sabotage culminated in a final showdown—an impromptu trivia contest that had everyone shouting questions at one another. “This one’s a gimme. Come on.” Minghao said, grinning ear to ear as he looked at Y/n. “I’ll let you take this one.”
She raised an eyebrow, half-surprised by his sudden willingness to let her answer. “Uh-huh, so this is your secret strategy—make me do all the work?” she said, nudging him playfully.
“Only the smart person's work,” Minghao shot back, laughter dancing in his voice as he leaned into her side. “And besides, I can’t afford another karaoke performance like that—I’m salvaging my reputation here.”
She smirked, appreciating the electric vibe still lingering in the air. “Fine, but you better promise to make up for it after this.”
Their competitive banter continued as the final questions rolled in. Y/n felt surprisingly exhilarated, and she realized that within the madness of the game night—amidst the silly antics and the thrill of competition—something deeper was taking root in her heart. Minghao, in all his competitive glory, was not just a friend; he was somebody who brought out a side in her she hadn’t even known existed.
Day 5 - The Realization
As time progressed, y/n found herself letting her guard down, enjoying Minghao’s company more than she intended. They shared late-night conversations, honest stories of their pasts, and hilarious anecdotes that made her laugh until she cried. But just as quickly as those feelings bloomed, fear crept in. Could she afford to get attached?
Both of them shied away from being honest with their feelings as a matter of protection from their pain in the past. 
Minghao especially realized how complicated the situation was. Could he really move forward with her without telling her the truth of why he asked her out in the first place? However, if he tells her the truth, he could lose her altogether. Each day that he hesitated felt like a weight pressing down on his chest, an unspoken tension hanging between them like the heavy clouds before a storm.
He recalled the tender moments they shared—the laughter, the stolen glances, the way her smile lit him up even when he felt like the weight of the world was on him. But lurking beneath those cherished memories was a foundation built on secrets and half-truths. He grappled with the fear that if he revealed the underlying reason for his affection, she might see him as just another guy in her life trying to throw her off her path, rather than someone who genuinely cared.
The truth was like a double-edged sword; it could liberate him or shatter the fragile bond they had formed. In those quiet moments, he could feel his heart wrestling with his mind—one part needing authenticity, while another begged for the safety of keeping his own secret. Was there a path that could lead them both to what they wanted rather than hurting them both?
He knew that eventually, he would have to choose a direction, but every path was filled with uncertainty. Perhaps, for now, he would focus on the little things—the warmth of her hand in his, the gentle way they navigated tough conversations. Yet, deep inside, he wondered how long they could remain strangers to their own truths. The clock was ticking, and each moment felt like an opportunity slipping away. 
Day 6 - The Plan Backfires
In an effort to push Y/n away to avoid hurting her, Minghao started purposely sending mixed signals. He ignored her texts, acted uninterested in their plans, and even pretended to be busy whenever she attempted to schedule time together. But to his surprise, Y/n didn’t waver. She matched his energy with playful banter and unwavering support, showing up outside his office with his favorite coffee just when he needed it—the same way he had done for her.
Each time she appeared, a smile lighting up her face, it reminded him of how deeply she understood him, and he knew his plan was backfiring. She took his teasing in stride, firing back with witty comebacks that reminded him of the vibrant connection they shared. He felt the walls he was trying to build between them start to crumble, intrigued and frustrated by the strength of her positive attitude. 
Why was he pushing her away when all she seemed to want was him? He could see the concern behind her laughter, the way her brow furrowed slightly when she caught him lost in thought, and it tore at his heart. Was this really the right way to protect her, or was he simply running from something that could be good for both of them?
On one particularly tough day, as he stared out the window, he caught a glimpse of her leaning against the wall, coffee in hand, waiting for him to take a moment to breathe. The sunlight caught her hair, giving her a glow that made her look like an angel in real life, and his chest tightened. She wasn't the kind of person to give up easily, and maybe that’s something he was drawn to. 
Instead of the irritation he anticipated feeling, Minghao began to appreciate her staying power. In that moment, he felt both grateful and terrified—grateful that she cared enough to stick around, and terrified that the longer he held back, the more he risked losing a part of himself he had forgotten even existed.
With each passing day, the facade he’d constructed started to feel less like protection and more like a prison. He saw how much she believed in him, not just as a friend, but as someone capable of finding happiness again. But as the walls crumbled beneath her unwavering kindness, he grappled with the realization that if he didn’t confront the truth soon, he might not just push her away, he might just lose her. Minghao knew he would have to decide soon to continue the charade or to find the courage to let her in. 
Day 7 - The Confession
One night, while they were taking a walk, the air was heavy with tension, and Minghao couldn’t take it anymore. “Why do you keep coming back? I’m clearly trying to push you away,” he blurted out, the words spilling out in a rush, tinged with frustration and desperation.
Y/n stopped, turning to face him, her expression suddenly serious for once. “Because, Minghao, I see something in you. I didn’t set out to fall for you, but I can’t help it. You starting to pull away is confusing me. What changed overnight that you can barely even look at me anymore?” Her tone was both challenging and vulnerable, a blend that cut through the discomfort hanging between them.
“It’s because—” Minghao swallowed hard, his heart racing as he looked into her eyes, feeling the weight of the truth pressing against his chest. He focused on her furrowed expression, “This was a bet, and I—”
“A bet?” Y/n’s voice rose, sharp almost like a knife diving into his chest. The surprised look on her face shifted rapidly from confusion to hurt, and it churned something deep within him. He was struck again by the disbelief in her eyes.
The silence between them was thick and suffocating. Minghao took a breath, searching for the right words, but they were lost on him. “I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” he pressed on, his voice softer now. “We started out as a joke—something to distract myself. It was my friend's idea that I foolishly agreed to. And then… then you became real to me.” He paused, trying to convey the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him.
Y/n crossed her arms, visibly hurt, but her gaze didn't waver. “You mean to tell me that all this time, all those moments we had—that they were just part of some fucking game with your buddies?” Her voice trembled slightly.
“No. It may have started that way, but it turned into something much deeper,” he pleaded, desperate to convey his truth. “I didn’t plan to fall for you. I didn’t plan on feeling this way at all. But once I did, I didn’t know how to handle it. I thought pushing you away would protect you from the truth.”
Y/n shook her head, her expression a blend of frustration and heartbreak. “You think pushing me away protects me? Minghao, it only pushes me into uncertainty. If you had just told me from the start, I could have chosen to stay or walk away. But now, you’ve  just made everything ten times fucking worse.” 
Feeling increasingly guilty he stepped closer, trying to bridge the distance he had created. “I’m so sorry, Y/n. I should have been honest with you. I never wanted to hurt you. The fear of losing you, it…” he trailed off, unsure how to articulate his feelings.
Y/n took a deep breath, her demeanor softening just a fraction. “You need to make a choice, Minghao. Either let me in, all the way, or please let me go. I.. uh, can’t handle this right now. I’ll try to give you a call in a few days or maybe see you around.”
The weight of her words settled heavily in the air, and Minghao realized that it was time to confront not only the truth of their beginning but also the reality of what was blossoming between them. He had been running from the idea of vulnerability for so long, but now faced with Y/n’s determination, he found just enough strength within himself to start breaking down the walls he had built. As he watched her walk away from him not turning back around like he wished she would have, for once, Minghao felt the stirrings of hope amidst his fear.
Day 8 - A Challenge
With Minghao’s words hanging in the air, Y/n found herself re-evaluating her feelings. She had initially wanted to leave him there on the street as a part of her past, but the connection they shared was stronger than she had anticipated. Maybe, just maybe, she didn’t want it to end after all, but she wasn’t willing to let him get away with tricking her so easily.
She decided on her own plan—something to throw him off his game truly in her own style just to get back at him, but only all in good fun. It was time to show Minghao that she wasn’t someone to be underestimated.
Y/n had gotten in contact with one of Minghao's friends, a guy named Jisoo whom she had met during their karaoke competition. After a quick chat filled with enthusiasm and laughter, she proposed the idea of entering a “Battle of the Bands”-style karaoke show hosted by her workplace for charity. Jisoo was immediately on board and even rallied a few more of their friends to join in. But Y/n made one thing clear: they absolutely couldn’t let Minghao in on the secret. This was her chance to catch him off guard.
In the following weeks, his friends practiced relentlessly. Y/n wasn't just aiming to win at work; she wanted to create an unforgettable evening, one that would leave Minghao in pure shock. They practiced their songs, and even designed matching outfits for the event—a whimsically themed performance that would be impossible to forget.
Finally, the night of the charity show arrived. The venue was filled with colorful lights and the buzz of excitement as coworkers and friends gathered, taking their seats for what promised to be a lively night. Y/n donned a not necessarily work appropriate dress that reflected the playful spirit of her prank and maybe to catch someone's eyes.  She could already see Minghao mingling with some of his friends, his laughter filling the air, and she felt a mixture of nerves and anticipation flutter in her stomach.
As the show kicked off, the energy in the room was contagious. The first few acts were entertaining, but Y/n could barely focus. She was waiting for her moment to take the stage and introduce Minghao and the others who were waiting to humiliate their friend gathered backstage, the excitement was palpable. They could hear Minghao in the crowd, cheering loudly for the groups, and Y/n smiled to herself, knowing what was coming next.
When it was their turn to perform, Y/n’s heart raced. She walked onto the stage, focusing on the bright lights and the sea of faces staring back at her. She could spot Minghao in the crowd before she introduced him, watching his slightly puzzled but amused look on his face as he recognized members of his circle.
“How’s everyone doing tonight?” Y/n shouted into the microphone, and the crowd erupted in cheers, clinking their glasses and waving them in the air as the spotlight warmed her skin. 
“I have a special surprise for you all this evening!” The anticipation in the room built up in waves as she paused for effect. “You won’t believe what I’ve been up to. If you haven’t already heard, I recently met someone!” 
The crowd roared in excitement, whoops and claps echoing around the venue. 
“Shocking, right? You might have seen him around the office. Can we get a spotlight on him?” 
The beam of light swept through the crowd until it landed on Minghao, who looked around, momentarily startled. 
“Everyone, meet Minghao!” Y/n continued, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We actually met at the coffee shop below the office. I was drowning in my mid-week project when he approached my table and asked me out on a date. I’ll admit, I was pretty hesitant at first. But he worked his charm on me.” 
She smiled warmly, letting reminiscence wash over her. “We ended up going out a few times after that, but just a few nights ago, he let me in on a little secret—it was all a bet set up by these guys right here!” 
Y/n dramatically pointed behind her at a group of men clad in glittery outfits, their faces a mix of embarrassment and amusement as they realized they’d been called out. Laughter erupted once again, and Minghao could only shake his head, a smirk on his lips as the crowd carried on, fully entertained by the unfolding story.
The laughter from the crowd soared, and Y/n could see Minghao’s face shifting from amusement to slight embarrassment when a man behind him yelled up to the stage. “A bet? Seriously?” he called out.
“Yes. You heard that right.” Y/n responded, leaning into the microphone as she theatrically rolled her eyes, embracing the absurdity of it all. “Turns out, my romantic escapades were all part of some grand scheme these guys made up.” 
The men behind her chuckled sheepishly, with one of them, a tall guy with a dazzling smile, shouting playfully, “In our defense, we thought it was a great idea. Including Minghao.”
“Oh, it definitely was,” Y/n replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thanks for the great dates,you guys. I had no idea I was part of a reality show, I watch them enough you’d think I’d catch on.” She paused for comedic effect, letting the laughter settle before leaning closer to the audience, her tone more serious. “You know, honestly, Minghao surprised me in ways I never expected.”
She glanced over at Minghao, whose cheeks were slightly flushed under the spotlight but wore a sincere smile. “I was a bit hesitant at first, sure. But then we really connected. And who would have guessed that the guy who interrupted my focused day with a charming smile would become someone so special?”
Cheers erupted from the crowd again, and Y/n took a deep breath, enticing them with what was coming next. 
“And, since we’re being honest here,” she continued, teasingly leaning into her role as the narrator of this unfolding tale, “I feel like we need to make Minghao work just a little for his redemption. No?” The audience murmured in excitement.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ve arranged a little surprise for him tonight,” Y/n said, gesturing to the side of the stage. “Minghao, my friend, you've got just one more challenge ahead of you.”
Out of nowhere, a karaoke microphone was handed to Minghao from his left side and the crowd erupted into cheers and laughter again. Minghao held it awkwardly, glancing at Y/n with a mix of uncertainty and delight. 
“What am I supposed to do with this?” he asked, genuinely confused but slightly intrigued. 
“You’re going to sing! Duh. Don’t be dumb,” Y/n declared, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. “The audience deserves to see what they’re in for. Plus, it’s only fair after that little trick you pulled. You’re going to serenade us all.” 
Minghao let out a laugh, his initial shock transforming into acceptance. The crowd erupted once again, chanting, “Minghao! Minghao!” 
Feeling the energy in the room, Minghao stepped forward, climbing up the stairs with a new light in his eyes. “Alright then, I guess I have no choice but to give the audience what they want!” He took a deep breath and gazed at Y/n one last time before launching into a fun, upbeat song that brought everyone to their feet.
As he sang, Y/n couldn’t help but feel a rush of  affection. Despite the insane circumstances that brought them together, there was something genuine unfolding between them, amplified by the shared laughter and excitement of the evening. 
With each note, Minghao seemed to shed any lingering nerves, pouring his heart out into the music. The audience was enthralled, dancing and singing along, swept up in the joy of the moment. Y/n found herself cheering louder than anyone else, her laughter mingling with his infectious energy.
And maybe, just maybe, she thought as she watched him shine on stage, this night was the perfect reminder that sometimes the best stories come from the unexpected. It wasn’t just about the twists and turns of their initial meeting; it was about the connections forged when they embraced things together. As Minghao finished with a flourish, the crowd erupted into applause, and Y/n couldn't help but wonder how many more surprises awaited them on this journey.
Day 9 - A Change of Heart
Determined to make a last-ditch effort to win her back, Minghao doubled down on his resolve. He sent her a series of texts brimming with encouragement, recounting the fun they’d had the night before. “I never imagined I’d be up on stage like that, but it was totally worth it,” he wrote, his fingers flying across the screen. “You have this incredible way of bringing out the best and most ridiculous in people. I genuinely had a good time, especially seeing those fuckers in glitter pants.” 
He poured his heart into his messages, sharing how her laughter had ignited a spark within him, and how getting to know her was quickly becoming the highlight of his life. “You made me feel brave, even while I was totally making a fool of myself,” he typed with a grin, imagining her laughter echoing in his ears. “And honestly, I wouldn’t change a thing about it. You’re amazing, Y/n.”
As the hours passed without a response, doubts started to creep into his mind. Had he gone too far with the whole bet thing? Would she take his lighthearted texts as desperation? But he couldn’t shake the feeling of knowing there was something real between them.. So, he gathered his courage and decided to call. 
When Y/n picked up the phone, her voice sounded bright but cautious. “Hey, Minghao. What’s up?”
“Y/n, Hi I don’t know if you saw my texts, you’re probably busy, but I just wanted to check in after last night,” he replied, his heart racing. “I hope you’re still not too mad at me for the bet thing. I promise I didn’t mean for it to be a setup. I actually really enjoyed being with you."
There was a momentary silence, and he held his breath, waiting for her response. “I’m not mad,” she finally said, her tone softening. “I thought it was an interesting twist, honestly. You had me laughing for hours after I got over it a little bit and after talking to your friends. But I just… didn’t want to feel like I was part of some game.”
“I totally understand,” he said quickly, wanting to assure her. “I’m really sorry for how it started. But I want you to know that my feelings for you are genuine. I liked who I was with you last night and every night really , and I want to get to know you better—like, for real, not as a bet.” 
Y/n paused again, and he could almost hear her contemplating his words. “You mean that?” 
“Absolutely,” Minghao responded, feeling more confident. “I know we started under unusual circumstances, but every moment I’ve spent with you has felt real. You bring out a side of me I didn’t really know I had, and I really love who I am when I’m with you. So, what do you say? Can we start over?” 
He could hear her take a deep breath from the other end, and his heart raced in anticipation. “Okay, let’s do that,” she finally said, her voice brightening. “But let’s be clear the only bets this time will be on actual games, not people's feelings”
Minghao laughed, relief washing over him. “Deal. Just me trying to impress you from now on.” 
“You already have, that was your promise from the start and you followed through.”
As they chatted and made plans for their next outing—a casual coffee date, just like they first met no strings attached—Minghao felt a renewed sense of hope. He was determined to show her that he was sincere, that the bet was just a silly beginning to what he hoped would be a beautiful journey together.
After they hung up, Minghao couldn’t help but smile to himself. It wasn’t just about winning her back; it was about starting anew, embracing the possibility of a real thing. And as excitement bubbled in his chest, he began to plan how he could make their next date unforgettable. After all, if Y/n could turn a wild bet into a night filled with laughter, he was ready to dive in and see where this newfound adventure would take them both.
Day 10 - The Second First Date.
As the days crept closer to their date, Minghao found himself overrun with excitement and nerves. He wanted everything to be perfect. Standing in front of his closet, he debated over his wardrobe, tossing shirts onto the bed haphazardly. He could feel the pressure mounting the stakes felt higher this time—not just because he was going to see Y/n again, but because he wanted her to see him as more than just that guy than a guy who bet on her feelings.
Eventually, he settled on a casual but stylish outfit, one that he felt confident in. Being genuine was the goal, after all, and he didn’t want to put on a facade. Just before he headed out the door, he glanced in the mirror, giving himself a final pep talk. “You’ve got this. Just be yourself.”
At the coffee shop, the aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the chatter of customers. Minghao arrived early, pacing a bit with anticipation. He chose the same cozy corner table her first noticed her at, where they’d have some privacy but still be part of the lively atmosphere. 
When Y/n walked in, his heart skipped a beat. She looked effortlessly beautiful, her hair cascading over her shoulders and a warm smile lighting up her face. She spotted him, her eyes sparkling with familiarity, and his nervousness began to fade away as she approached.
“Hi, nice to meet you, you’re Minghao right?” she greeted, her voice filled with warmth.
“Hey, yeah. I’m glad you made it,” Minghao replied, standing to greet her. They exchanged a brief hug, and it felt surprisingly comfortable.
As they settled into their seats with steaming cups of coffee in hand, the conversation flowed naturally, as if they’d never left off. They chatted about everything their favorite shows, upcoming plans, and the ridiculous things they’d seen online lately. Laughter punctuated their discussion, the kind that made the world around them feel distant.
At one point, Y/n playfully leaned back in her chair, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, tell me—what’s your strategy for impressing me today? More dance moves? Karaoke?”
Minghao laughed, feeling lighter than he had in days. “Let’s save the dancing for another time. I’m still trying to recover from the last performance,” he said with a smirk. “But I promise I have a few tricks up my sleeve—nothing too embarrassing.”
“Just promise me no more betting, I’m out of chips for now.” she said, stern but unable to hide her smile.
“Cross my heart,” he promised dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “From here on out, it’s just me and you having honest and genuine fun.”
Their coffees had transformed into connection, a beautiful blend of camaraderie and flirtation. As they moved towards dessert, Minghao felt a spark growing between them. 
With a playful glint in his eye, he decided to take a leap. “So, if we’re doing this—like, seeing where it goes, how about I take you on a mini-adventure next time? Something a little less…traditional?” 
Y/n raised an eyebrow, “And what exactly does that entail? You are not talking about hiking, or something like that right? I would kill you.” 
“A  little scavenger hunt around the city?” he suggested, warming to the idea. “We could visit all the spots we love, and maybe even some new places. Get ice cream, take pictures, and just enjoy the day.”
Her face lit up with enthusiasm. “That sounds amazing. I love it.”
Seeing her excitement filled him with joy; this felt right. With their coffee date unfolding so smoothly, he was beginning to understand that this was not just about rekindling a spark but about building something new. 
As they wrapped up, Minghao walked her to her car, and the atmosphere felt electric. Before saying goodbye, he couldn’t resist leaning in slightly. “If I promise to make each outing better than the last, will you promise to keep coming back?”
Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I think I can manage that, if you also kiss me” she replied, her smile brightening the evening.
With a renewed sense of hope, Minghao pulled her in from her waist kissing her multiple times before backing up slightly and letting her get into the driver's seat, she rolled down the window and wagged her finger at him for one more kiss, and then he  watched her drive away, heart brimming with anticipation. He was ready to dive into this adventure, ready to explore whatever lay ahead with Y/n by his side. Their story was only just beginning, and for the first time in a long while, he felt like everything was falling into place. 
Epilogue
The days that followed were an exciting blur of planning and anticipation. Minghao found himself digging into his old notebooks, jotting down ideas for the scavenger hunt, trying to think of all the little things that made their city special. He wanted to weave in personal touches that would make the day unforgettable for Y/n—places that could bring back memories of their first date or spots he knew would make her full of  joy when he revealed them.
With each idea, he found he was not just planning an outing but also crafting an experience centered around her, and this realization filled him with a sense of purpose. He’d always believed that little moments could mean everything, and now he was eager to show Y/n just how much he cherished their new relationship.
When the day of the scavenger hunt arrived, Minghao woke up with a mix of nerves and excitement. He’d set everything in motion, and now all he needed to do was let the day unfold naturally. He picked a comfortable outfit—something relaxed but still appealing—and made his way to the meeting spot they had agreed on: a park that was alive with the sounds of laughter, children playing, and the distant strumming of a guitarist.
As he waited, he felt a buzz of anticipation in the air around him. The moment he spotted Y/n walking towards him, his heart soared. She looked radiant, her hair dancing in the breeze, and her smile lit up the entire park. 
“Hey, you.” she greeted, a lilt in her voice that made him grin wider.
“Ready for a little adventure?” he asked, trying to mask the excitement bubbling beneath his calm exterior.
“Absolutely. Just tell me what we’re doing,” she replied, eyes sparkling with curiosity.
“First off, we have to get our scavenger hunt gear,” he said, pulling out a small tote bag he had packed. Inside were colored pencils,a camera for taking photos at each stop, a notebook for jotting down clues, and a list of locations they'd be visiting.
“What’s all this?” she laughed, peering inside with delight.
“Just some supplies to help us document our adventure” Minghao said cheerily. “The first stop is that little coffee stand we found last week, where they have the pastries.”
With a shared laugh and playful banter, they made their way through the park, stopping for pictures at every significant spot—an old oak tree where they took selfies, a fountain that they threw pennies in while making a wish, and a mural that had caught Minghao’s eye during their last outing. The connection between them deepened as they shared stories, memories, and more feelings than ever. As they reached the coffee stand, Minghao took a moment to watch her as she chose her pastry. She had a way of illuminating the boring everyday things, and he felt grateful every time she shot him a smile. After they got their treats, he pulled out the next clue.
“Okay, next up,” he said with excitement, glancing down at the list he had created. “We have to find the spot where they sell the best ice cream in town. But there’s a catch—you have to lead the way.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Me? Alright.. This should be interesting.”
With her leading the way, they began to navigate the streets, stopping to chat with street performers and peeking into quirky shops. As they reached the ice cream parlor, the enticing scent of waffle cones met them, and they quickly placed their orders. 
“That is definitely a win,” Minghao said, savoring the first bite of his matcha chocolate chip. He looked over to see Y/n’s eyes light up with delight as she tasted her basic but cute vanilla with sprinkles.
As they sat outside, sharing stories about their favorite childhood flavors, Minghao felt a warmth spreading in his chest. Each moment they shared layered on a sense of intimacy, deepening their bond.
The rest of the day continued in this delightful fashion, each stop on the scavenger hunt bringing them closer together, transforming their connection into something rooted in genuine affection. The final clue led them to an overlook, a perfect sunset view of the city sprawled out before them.
As they stood side by side, overlooking the vibrant hues of orange and pink washed across the sky, Minghao turned to her, feeling the weight of the moment. 
“I’m really glad I took this leap,” he said, his voice sincere. “Today has been incredible. You make everything better, including me.”
Y/n looked at him, her expression softening. “I feel the same way. This day has been one of the best I’ve had in a long time. Really, thank you.”
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, he could feel the pull toward her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and leaned in, capturing her lips in a gentle yet tender kiss. It was a clear promise of what was to come—not just in this moment, but in all the moments yet to unfold.
Standing there, as the last light of day faded into twilight, Minghao felt a newfound certainty settle within him. This was just the beginning of a beautiful adventure with Y/n, and he was ready to explore every twist and turn that life had to offer together.
Minghao had set out to lose a girl in ten days but instead found something he never expected: a genuine connection. As he and y/n embarked on their new adventure as one and they both realized that sometimes love sneaks up on you when you least expect it, and sometimes, the risks of opening your heart are worth every moment.
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