#what do you mean they are sworn partners

[cloud-iceshadow]

“Sworn Partners”

[iceunhie]

— out of this world (and into another) : genshin impact

premise: you could've sworn the transmigration curse didn't have an effect on you... so what exactly are you doing here?! (alternatively, you tumble straight into your favorite video game; and you're kinda fucked)

...or, a genshin manhwa otome game inspired au.

act i: scaramouche, alhaitham, wriothesley.

↳ act ii: lyney, neuvilette, kazuha, kaeya. (next)

warnings. fem!reader but can be imagined as genderless if u'd like hehe, a shit ton of manhwa tropes in one, this is a hot mess aka not proofread all that much, half clunky half decent writing

a/n: as promised via the poll heh,, while i do plan to make this an actual au, im not that sure ^^; just the tip of the iceberg here tho!!

MAIN MASTERLIST | AU MASTERLIST (coming soon)

YOU — unsuspecting civilian turnt transmigrator

you've always been too attached to fictional characters for your own good.

yes, even the ones that are remarkably irredeemable (the power of a backstory is very formidable) and complex (complexity is a virtue!)

villains have always been destined to die, be cursed, or destined to curse others. it was heartbreaking, really. you've wished for a chance to rewrite their fates for them to find even a sliver of happiness, even when the fate of their plot says otherwise.

which is why when you find yourself awake into the game of your dreams, “Teyvat's Seven Stars”, like any lover of cliche novel and manhwa tropes, this is the time you think that maybe life wasn't so shitty on you.

....there's only one tiny, teensy, itty bitty problem here, actually.

you're not the protagonist. you're not even one of the protagonist's faithful friends and underlings that light protagonist's road to conquering the world and its men (and as of the 4.0 update, it's women); no, you're none of those.

you're a no name extra, and not to mention, a character involved with the game's main villain characters who are coincidentally the love interests of the game's black route!

[ unlock transmigration package: ultimate transmigrator's route ( ????? MODE ) ]

[ no ] [ yes ]

( 国崩 ) SCARAMOUCHE — the tyrant

“as of today, you will be engaged to crown prince kunikuzushi, who is her grace the shogun's rightful heir to the throne.”

when given approval to stare at your so-called soon to be husband, you expect the worst, mostly. the multitudes of character dialogue you've played through detailing his rather discourteous personality (which basically meant he was a huge asshole) don't exactly paint a pretty picture.

however...

who was this tender hearted looking scaramouche that ‘obliterated armies in the blink of an eye?’ the t in tyrant stands for tyrannical, not timid!

eyes like lighting framed by the longest eyelashes you've ever seen and an unfairly pretty face, comparable to a fair lotus. after fawning over his otherworldly countenance, a sinking realization of dread pools in your stomach.

oh, you are so screwed.

essentially tied to the indigo-haired ticking time bomb of a future tyrant due to the strong standing of your family for a period of until the main story starts, you're destined to never get crown prince scaramouche's affection, being his fiancée who scaramouche is arranged to for political means only.

not to mention, you're in an even more deadly position; of all the characters you switched souls with, it's the one that essentially dies by their own fiancé's hand because they were horrible to him! what atrocious luck!

frantic, you wrack up about three ways to survive.

plan a) win over the shogun's favor by being an appropriate partner unlike the original flavor of this body, who resorted to bullying the innocent prince and unknowingly digging their own grave or b) be a guiding friend to scaramouche as he learns the ways of the world and c) make sure you don't end up giving the protagonist a bad ending via his twisted personality.

weighing all these options, you decide to do all three in hopes to cement a life instead of a deathflag. prevention is better than the cure (aka: the protagonist) after all!

(you may also just want to spend time with your favorite character. having a time limit and a sign that says ‘i'll die in the future!’ should at least warrant you extra time to show some affection to scaramouche, at least.)

so, you do what anyone in your position would do: give affection! lots of it.

admittedly, it wasn't all flowers and rainbows. scaramouche—ahem, kunikuzushi—was very shy and reserved indeed, with his mother ei even worse off! (besides, who trains and studies all day and has to stop crying every time they were injured?! that was just too much!)

it was rather hard at first, the frigid atmosphere of the usually silent Tenshukaku Palace almost impossible to permeate. but with your amazing charm (read: deathflag radar) and social skills, you manage to let the members of the Royal family open up to you.

speaking words of praise in ei's cooking (a very difficult feat to accomplish), spending afternoons with your fiancé and teaching him ‘how to be a shoujo worthy male lead, name-version’ (very confusing to explain), and the cherry on top, driving away that vile teacher of his—the Doctor—once word got out that he'd been taking advantage of scaramouche as a political puppet king in the future. trauma enabler destroyed! look at your immeasurable powers!

(“you're not a failure.” clasping kunikuzushi's hands in yours as he reels back from you. damn that doctor.

his tears shot a wave of heartache through you. you can't bear to see your favorite in such suffering. “whatever happens in the future, i won't abandon you.

no matter what, i'll always be on your side, okay?”

kunikuzushi looks at you with something in his eyes—something like adoration. “do you promise that?”

“yeah.” you say without hesitation, the glow of the sunlight hitting your face so dazzlingly that kunikuzushi's eyes widen that his mouth hangs agape in awe. “i promise, kuni.”)

to your greatest delight, your efforts worked in your favor.

ei now spends time with her son, and though it's almost always just a tad bit awkward, you and the guuji yae miko get the two to strike up conversation, and overtime, kunikuzushi becomes more open to you.

(“[name], what kind of man is your type?”

“huh? well...” you think for a while. this was a great opportunity to say it, right? that life changing protagonist quote!

“to me, the only person i'll ever like the most is you, kunikuzushi.”

“do you really, really mean that?” and oh, he looks so cute—flustered and red from your words. worth it.

“yup! now, i made some shimi chazuke, try some—”)

(admittedly, lots of favoritism is involved.)

—and while you reap the fruits of your hard work, you spend warm, sunlit afternoons with ei at tea, even learning about other nations from scaramouche's aunt nahida and even befriended a few of his future affiliates—childe (though for some reason, kunikuzushi always pulls you away from him whenever he spots the two of you together), signora (she tolerates you, you think) and etcetera.

(“then, if i do well, can you kiss me on the cheek, [name]?”

you agree, much to his delight. scaramouche avoids the gaze of a certain pink haired fox eyeing him questionably. unbeknownst to you, he glares at the woman's scrutiny.)

unprecedented things unrelated to the plot happen too; like how your family, which basically only saw you as a political bargaining chip and an unwanted child they could get rid of easily—no longer sent you any demeaning letters demanding money once scaramouche found out....

(“they've been leeching off of you for how long?” so scary... is this was kunikuzushi is like when he's worried?)

(“...kunikuzushi, how long will you keep up that weak-hearted facade of yours? if they find out how.... dishonest you are....”

“i don't need the reminders of a foxy old hag that doesn't know her place. this is fine as it is.”)

(you don't need to know.)

but, you're nothing compared to the inevitable flow of the plot. inazuma is wracked with war, and it just so happened that you'd been unceremoniously kidnapped by a certain resistance leader's trusted general, used as a hostage bargain for approximately the majority of your life. in the worst moments in your dreary cell, there's only one thought in your mind.

....kunikuzushi's face, devastated when he tries to reach for you, before slipping away from him like sand— face morphing into an unbridled state of rage that's too natural, too familiar. when did he learn to make a face like that?

(they say the kingdom was wracked with thunderstorms all night that day.)

afterwards, fate doesn't make it kind for you.

years go by in the blink of an eye, with your capture fervently forgotten in the midst of the growing animosity of the two conflicting forces.

although you did hear that yae sent out a search party for you while at the resistance's base, the shogun's forces never reached you.

eventually, you got released secretly by sympathy of kokomi, the leader of the resistance, who felt pity for you getting caught in the crossfire. letting you go under the condition that you'd likely never meet any of the precious characters you've gotten to know and change was a heavy price to pay, but you didn't have any choice.

indeed, no matter how much you tried to divert the plot, your duty as an extra has ended, and you were even lucky to even be alive. you could only hope that your fiancé—ex-fiancé—took note of your lessons well, bidding farewell to inazuma as you hop on the boat to mondsdat.

by now, you at least hoped that scaramouche and the protagonist met, his true chance at happiness starting now that you were basically dead.

(even if your heart felt like breaking into a million pieces.)

....is what you thought would happen, but why is it that after three years from your supposed capture, inazuma was still at war?

“that crazy prince... he's still working to find his former fiancée... and he's razing almost every village apart looking for them!”

“—didn't the shogunate say that whoever finds her would receive almost 3 million mora?”

“the entire lot of them are lunatics, i tell you. all because of a missing person, too!”

what's more, why was it still going because of you?!

( 艾尔海森 ) AL-HAITHAM: the information guild master

to be fair, normal people don't really run into one of their favorite characters often after transmigrating.

but to be fair, again, you certainly didn't think you'd actually be in your favorite video game franchise caged in bed with essentially one of its main love interests.

eyes wide and unceremoniously looking—definitely not ogling— at the toned body that's currently enveloping you in its arms, the soft tuft of ashy gray hair caressing the crook of your neck, murmuring incoherent mumbles of—is that another language?

???????

you blink, looking down at the bare body currently embracing you. oh. oh.

you're an extra.

you're just an extra, but why are you in bed, currently being served breakfast by the most gorgeous man you've ever laid your eyes on, with a pretty view of the rainforests' canopy?

“you should lie down. if i recall, sufficient sleep is required in order for the human body to perform its basic bodily functions. although our partnership is temporary, to let you fall to harm is a situation i'd like to avoid as much as possible.”

“....what?”

“...?”

the guild master, al-haitham, is a character in Teyvat's Seven Stars that is heavily debated on whether he's technically a villain or not. in the game, he's the right hand of sumeru's leader, nahida, working as the overseer of the AKASHA, a guild that gathers information to the nation's leader. he's a pretty shady character—always working behind the scenes and very unfalteringly blunt—and a ‘villain’ for crown prince scaramouche's route, helping the protagonist escape his clutches.

he's often the subject of comedic ire, his banters with a certain broke architect always the highlight of any bonafide al-haitham fan.

“we're expected to work together by lord kusanali's decree in the duration of investigating the hivemind project the lord suspects the baron siraj is partaking in.”

right, that one scene in the game where al-haitham needed to go undercover to infiltrate a coup de etat staged by one of the factions against nahida... right... what.

you were that extra! the one that fell in love with him and pined for his affection!

(“well, i get that part, but does sleeping together really have to play a part in this...?”

al-haitham gives you a mere quirk of the lip, tilting his head. “we do have to play the part of a married couple in dire straights, do we not? this cover is more efficient.

...besides, i don't have anything to complain about. you're certainly better company than kaveh.” )

in truth, al-haitham wasn't bad company. far from it. aside from the internal giggling and fangirling (you) and the incredible stack of books (alhaitham) that you have to see more than the grey haired man on a daily basis, the two of you work out a rapport that stems from memories of the body you transmigrated in.

he's nice to be around, surprisingly considerate when he wants to be—he tells you about the books he always reads....

(who even reads ‘20 Tongues Language Memorization Guidebook: A Basic Overview of Vocabulary and Terms’ for enjoyment?

the content makes your head run in circles because of how complicated it is; but who wouldn't like to listen to an extremely attractive man overexplain to you with a calm and pretty voice?)

...is generous enough to provide meals and cook dinners that have you crying tears of gratitude because you know how awful yours compares (it was either too bland or too seasoned; al-haitham is surprisingly picky when he wants to be)

(you assigned al-haitham the title of “absolute s-tier husband material”— his capabilities are out of this world!)

by chance, you once gave al-haitham a little tidbit of information that proved to be valuable later in the investigation—courtesy of your avid game knowledge—when you two had been lost to the psychological illusion magic cast by siraj when you two finally broke in his estate.

(“whatever happens, if siraj messes with your mind, just make sure to think of me instead of anything else.” al-haitham lets his hand find yours.

“you once asked me if i trusted you, [name].”

“....” you're treated to one of al-haitham's rare smiles, one that warms you up from within. “i do. so don't let yourself get hurt.”)

however, your temporary partner had faltered for once, flinching when siraj took the form of his old grandmother who'd passed to exploit al-haitham's mind, hesitating and frozen in place while siraj inched ever closer to finding out his weakness.

and you couldn't stand it, the character you cared for—the al-haitham that always had a plan, always knew how to stay calm, had looked so unsure and hopeless.

(“wake up, al-haitham!”

with you cradling his face, al-haitham stares back at the only constant in the memories of his grief, eyes meeting yours. “you don't have to do it all alone. i'm right here, aren't i? believe in me.”)

your (fake) husband snaps back to reality, finally allowing enough time to apprehend siraj and put a stop to his malicious project.

(“thank you.” al-haitham tells you solemnly. it hits you that this may be the last time you may ever see him. “i'm grateful that you brought me back to y— to my senses.”

there's a sincerity in your voice that rings from your heart. “anytime, al-haitham.”)

you thought that was the end of it.

defeating siraj meant you two no longer had to associate with each other, but somehow, to your great surprise, al-haitham doesn't stick to the plot at all. you were sure you didn't interfere with the game, though?

for some reason, al-haitham doesn't erase himself from your life, unlike the original route's flow.

in fact, he's become... easy to run into, a constant in your otherwise mundane life. he takes you out to lambad's tavern for an occasional drink, says he's lending you his headphones when you find yourself overwhelmed by the city (you were never good with noises) and even helps you out as you vent your problems to him.

(the day after, said problem conveniently disappears. how strange....)

and most of all, allowing you to enter his personal space... leaving kaveh's jaw dropping when he accuses al-haitham of having a lover.

“you're always going who knows where with them! what else is there to figure out?”

“...we are merely friends.”

“a friend that you let into your personal library? do they know that you still keep the ‘fake’ ring in a box inside the closet?” kaveh laughs. “nice try, al-haitham.”

(after all, kaveh could never unsee the way al-haitham's eyes softened at the feeling of the head on his shoulder lean onto him, with you no doubt asleep. he even took his headphones off! kaveh has never seen him actually take them off in order to keep the person who's sleeping on his shoulder as undisturbed as possible.

in fact, kaveh doesn't think he's ever seen al-haitham be this touchy or considerate with anyone this much before.

.....and most importantly, kaveh would never forget the way al-haitham, a man who found no merit in politeness and preferred bluntness, a man who preferred solitude rather than company—deliberately getting close to someone—pressing a fleeting kiss on the crown of your head.

kaveh blinks. it seems even the throes of love can reach even the most unconquerable of peaks....)

( 莱欧斯利 ) WRIOTHESLEY — the monster duke of the north

“—i need you to gather information on duke wriothesley. serve him undercover as one of the prisoners of the fortress.”

the duke of meropide—a man swamped with terrible rumors. they say he was exiled from the nation due to murdering his entire family. they say he possessed a face worthy of the title of a beast— grotesque, littered in scars. they say that any who end up in his estate, the iron prison of the north, meropide, never saw the light of day again.

(“only criminals of the worst kind are fated to be sentenced there. nobody returns, so we've stopped questioning it...” )

so to say you're not fearing for your life that bad right now is a massive understatement.

“now, mind telling me how you were able to sneak into the most impenetrable prison in all the land, miss prisoner?”

how did it end up like this?

so you wake up and find yourself in jail. lovely.

seriously, of all the places you can transmigrate into, why did it have to be fontaine?! Teyvat's Seven Stars chapter 4's main starting point, the nation of justice is littered with dark themes and high difficulty capture targets.

.... such is the case with the man in front of you. unlike what the rumors of him say, duke wriothesley paints a rugged yet dashing picture of a nobleman, even if he was —if you recall— one of the hardest capture targets to conquer in the game.

a villain character who you played once during one game route, acting as the driving force during one of the love events of one of the protagonist's other love interest, lyney. duke wriothesley almost assassinates lyney's younger brother, freminent, leading lyney to rally up a certain group to bring the nobleman down.... a typical side character villain, who's existence was added as late as 3 patches away from lyney's.

(even inazuma would be better than this! at least the tyrant route could be avoided, and let's not mention the easy sumeru route as well...)

“well, miss prisoner, cat got your tongue?”

in summary: fortunately for you, the body you transmigrated is in the position to spy on the current affairs of the fortress of meropide, with courtesy and with permission of one of Fontaine's leaders, neuvillette. unfortunately for you, it seems our dear monsieur wasn't able to inform wriothesley beforehand, leading to the current situation.

aka, you're pressed dangerously close to wriothesley's chest, with a knife at his throat and his hands pinning you against the wall, noses almost touching. you're not sure if this is even the kind of tension that two people who are trying to kill each other are supposed to have...

(“i'm an ally!” you sputter out. wriothesley raises an eyebrow at you. “monsieur neuvillette sent me.”

“how am i supposed to trust you after i saw you slinking around here, knife at my throat?” he replies, eyes narrowing. “i know that i'm labelled as a beast, but i don't really know what came over that pretty little head of yours when trying to sneak into my chambers.”

what does he take you for?! “...are you accusing me of something indecent?!”

“just saying — i've met lots of prisoners with your excuse, my lady.”

“i'm prepared to use this knife, you know.”

“hah.” wriothesley grins. “how aggressive. more aggressive than most. do you want me that bad?”

“stop twisting my words!”)

in any case, you hate wriothesley. you know he's one of the characters in Teyvat's Seven Stars and is a villain for one of the easy love interest routes in the game, but his personality is... a real piece of work.

you'd rather the protective and kind kazuha, or even the charming and elusive lyney! why did it have to be him?

not only did he not believe you, he even told you to prove your authenticity! you're just glad that his assistant sigewinne had been there to vouch for you — you're not sure if you'd even be on your two feet right now if she didn't.

so now you're stuck constantly on your feet, running to and fro — helping the dark-haired man record new prisoners, establishing trading routes to the main city of Fontaine, and treating other prisoners of the fortress with sigewinne.

your biggest surprise by far, though, is just how... different the duke is from the rumors. his scars were merely battle scars of honor (to which sigewinne rolls her eyes, “your grace, please stop trying to look cool”) he got from various succession fights, not scars to show how he was cursed to turn into a beast. he has a love for tea, but always seems to have a cup of your favorite blend with him when you feel tired after a long day of working (laboring) for him and the estate.

(“your daily report of new convicts, your grace.”

“-this is the tea you like, your grace. i've prepared it in advance.”

“you're very adamant on proving yourself. aren't you sick of such tasks by now, miss prisoner?”

“no.” wriothesley's expression screams 'why not?' on it. “ it's because of my own misjudgement of you.”

“...elaborate.”

“i may have had unnecessary prejudices on your conduct thus far. but you're... not like what the rumors paint you out to be.” you say sincerely. “you're more amazing and incredible than anyone else. i truly do admire you.”

wriothesley's expression; you couldn't decipher it. “i see.”)

he's battered, but caring. sigewinne makes you watch (in horror) as she doodles cartoonish looking characters on his face when he's asleep — wriothesley never fusses, only an exasperated sigh to his assistant. he's harsh with his tasks and duties, but is the first to rush you into sigewinne's infirmary to tend to you after you pass out from overwork.

(“don't worry, [name]. the duke may not look it, but he's very gentle!” sigewinne giggles. humoring the little girl who was the first to show you actual decency in this place, you try to nod. sigewinne doesn't seem convinced.

“i'm serious! after all, compared to other people who've snuck into the fortress, you're the first he's treated this way.” she says cheerily.

“what does that mean?” you can't help but scoff at that. “so he just works someone to the bone from the get go?” you shudder. damn production zone...

sigewinne blinks. “ oh no, not like that. it's just that he's never been so lenient before. in fact, when you fainted, he even gave me the order to prioritize treating you over anything else.”)

well, this wasn't exactly what you thought you would be doing when you transmigrated into your favorite game, but you suppose you can take it.

besides, you'd miss a certain duke otherwise. life truly is full of strange twists....

a/n: thank you for making it this far! if anyone asks why wriothesley's was short, listen, this was completely impulsive and i was out of inspiration LOL, but i do hope you enjoy! look forward to new parts though hehe :3

@ ICEUNHIE: do not repost translate or plagiarize my works.

[miumura]

TREATIN’ ME LIKE AN ENEMY ｡ ｡ ｡ ｡ 엔하이픈 🪽 ✦

( 𝓢 ) ﹕ in a secret relationship with your “enemy”

──── enhypen hyung line x f ! r ╱ ⌕ est. but secret relationship, workplace / co-workers au, fluff, comfort ( ? ) ∿ w. petnames, rude co-worker + mention of blood in sunghoon’s ( nothing graphic ) wc. 1.6K+ ( 1645 ) ｡ ｡ might need to make jey into my top 5 bc i love this song 😆

❛❛ 💬 ❞ 𝗦𝗢𝗣𝗛 > 𓂃 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗖𝗞 𝗢𝗨𝗧 𝗕𝗢𝗢𝗞𝗦𝗛𝗘𝗟𝗙 ⋮ 🪽

LEE HEESEUNG

“You’ll be working with…Lee Heeseung,” your supervisor said to you during a team meeting, unknowingly dropping a bombshell. It left your co-workers to exchange nervous glances around the room. Everyone knew you and Heeseung were practically sworn enemies, your relentless competitiveness with each other being the worst-kept secret in the office.

“So, go sit with your partner and start working on a new proposal,” your supervisor wrapped up the meeting, leaving everyone to scramble around to switch seats.

You chose to stay put, looking extremely disinterested as Heeseung was making his way over to the empty seat next to you. As you glanced at him, he seemed to wear the same look too as he sat down.

He scooted his chair closer to you, opening up his laptop. “Let’s work on this project with no hiccups, alright?” he says, his voice loud enough for others to hear.

To everyone else, you two were like oil and water—certainly not a good pair in other people’s eyes. What your co-workers didn’t know, however, was how Heeseung sneakily chose to get closer to intertwine his hands with yours under the table.

You subtly squeezed his hand back, both of you trying—and failing—to suppress the smiles threatening to creep onto your faces.

They certainly didn’t know how good of a pair you two could be.

PARK JONGSEONG

“Oh come on, you’re avoiding me even when we’re alone now?” Jay teased after trying to get your attention for the past few minutes. “It was just an act, I promise.”

You didn't even look up from your screen. “Suddenly sending me spam emails at once in front of our co-worker, and telling me I can’t delete them because one of them has important project details…” You tried to grit your teeth to hold back your frustration, but the words still slipped out. “And now I have to go through every single one of these with the same titles but blank emails? That’s a bit mean, don’t you think?”

"People were getting suspicious," he said, rolling his chair closer to you, only for you to shove it away with your leg. He just smirked, clearly amused by your reaction. "They said I’ve been too ‘normal’... or I guess, too nice to you lately."

“Well, I rather have a nice boyfriend right now, instead of him watching me go through these emails,” you huffed, your eyes still fixed on the screen. “You could at least share me another copy of it or just tell me now if it’s actually anything important.”

“I would think it’s rather important,” Jay replied, drawing out the last word in a teasing sing-song tone.

Finally, you glanced over at him, your frustration barely contained. He wore a small but sly smirk, his eyebrows slightly raised, clearly waiting to see what you’d do next.

“Are you going to tell me?” you asked, not sure whether to be more annoyed or curious.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to those emails for that?” He said, causing you to abruptly spin around, with your eyes glued once again.

“You’re really mean,” you said, thinking of the plan to ignore him once again.

He lightly chuckled, getting up from his chair and walking behind you. His hand rested on the back of your chair, and you felt a familiar warmth when his other hand slid over yours on the mouse.

“It’s this one,” he whispered close to your ear, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. You jolted slightly, turning to face him, eyes wide in surprise as his heartwarming smile spread across his face. “Why don’t you read it?”

You cleared your throat, your fingers lingering on the mouse as you clicked on the email. But there were no project details—just a simple message:

“Let’s go to the place you’ve always wanted to go to?”

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly turned to face Jay, lips parted in surprise as you watched his eyes light up, clearly waiting for your reaction.

“So, what do you say?” Jay crouched down to your level, holding your hand gently.

“Let’s go on a date?”

SIM JAEYUN

"Do you not know how to do a single thing?" you asked in disbelief, flipping through the “messy” weekly report Jake had written.

"Are you seriously trying to criticize my work right now?" Jake shot back, his voice sharp enough to make heads turn outside the break room.

He stepped closer, reaching for the paper in your hand. His brows furrowed, and his expression hardened, his frustration clear as he tilted his head to meet your gaze.

“Do you think you’re my bos—” Jake stopped mid-sentence, his ears perking at the sound of hurried footsteps outside. His eyes darted to the window of the door, catching a glimpse of a group of people quickly scurrying away. He walked closer, double checking to make sure everyone was out of sight.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, his serious demeanor melted in an instant. He turned back to you with a cheeky grin, a sight you started to get familiar with. Without hesitation, he crossed the room to wrap his arms around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug.

“Not at work, babe,” you said as you nudged him away from you, although you still wanted to be in his embrace. His pouty expression had you lightly chuckling as his hands stayed firmly on your hips.

“Are you really the same person a minute ago?” you teased, wondering how your boyfriend was able to change expressions that quick.

“Is my acting that good?” Jake asked, his grin growing even wider, his pride written all over his face.

"A little too good," you admitted with a small laugh, your fingers tracing gentle circles over his knuckles. "I wonder what you were going to say next? Do I think I'm your... what?"

“Boss,” he clarified where he had left off from, his tone softening as he added, “and we both know that’s not what you are.”

“So, what am I?”

“I think you’re my girl,” he said confidently, but then he quickly shook his head. “Scratch that—I know that you’re my girl.”

PARK SUNGHOON

“And… Y/N,” your co-worker trailed off, his tone suddenly sharp as he glanced over your report. The air in the room grew heavy, and an uneasy silence filled the space. “You’ve done better work than this.”

The sound of a pin dropping could have echoed in the room. All eyes shifted to you as heat rose to your face. Your own gaze flickered from the report in his hands to the floor, shame creeping in.

“Are you going to say anything?” he pressed.

“I’m sorry…” you managed to mumble, your voice barely audible.

“That’s it?” His tone grew harsher, and your eyes darted back to him, surprised by the sound in his voice. “Aren’t you going to reassure us that you’ll do better next time?”

“I…” You bit your lip, trying to steady yourself, but the sting from the broken skin sent a jolt through you.

“I don’t know why you’ve been so—“

“If you don’t mind letting her finish her sentence instead of acting like a jerk, that would be greatly appreciated,” Sunghoon’s voice cut him off, making everyone turn toward him.

You blinked, shocked to hear him speak up for you. The whispers started immediately—no one expected Sunghoon to defend you, not given your so-called “bad terms.”

“Instead of giving her constructive criticism, you’re just trying to tear her down,” Sunghoon continued, his voice calm but serious. He picked up a copy of one of the very reports laid out, flipping through it with sharp precision. “And honestly, I don’t think you’re in any position to talk about anyone else’s work.”

“Excuse me?” The co-worker looked both offended and startled.

“When was the last time our supervisor called your report anything more than average?”

The room filled with hushed murmurs, and you saw the co-worker’s face turn red. He fired back, “Why are you defending her? Aren’t you two supposed to hate each other?”

Sunghoon leaned back slightly, crossing his arms. “Should I just leave my morals because of some petty label people decided to put on us? I won’t stand by while you talk to her like that.”

“You two clearly have something going on—” the man started, pointing an accusatory finger at both of you, only to stop mid-sentence when Sunghoon suddenly scraped his chair against the floor and stood up.

The entire room fell silent as Sunghoon grabbed your arm, his touch firm but not forceful. Without a word, you stood as well, letting him guide you toward the door.

“If you’ll excuse us both,” Sunghoon said, his voice having an unmistakable edge, “call us back when this team can manage a respectful meeting.”

The door shut firmly behind you, muffling the chaos of the room. Sunghoon immediately turned to you, his hands gently cupping your face.

“You’re bleeding,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your lip with tenderness. You winced slightly, and he frowned. “I’ll get you some ointment.”

“Hoon, you didn’t have to do that…” you said softly.

He shook his head, his hands still framing your face. “Come on, even if everyone thinks we’re enemies, I wasn’t going to just sit there and let someone treat my girlfriend like that. And I’m sorry I didn’t step in sooner. I didn’t think that jerk would keep going like that.”

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you smiled up at him. “He’s always been like that. I’ve just dealt with it for so long.”

“Well, you don’t have to anymore,” Sunghoon said firmly, his hands moving to gently hold your arms. His eyes softened as he looked at you. “Regardless of what people think or what they call us, I’ll stand up for you.”

“Always?”

“Always.”

‘💬’ ─── this was supposed to be an 0t7 work but i started blanking out 😖 but hey first hyung line work !!

[theemporium]

[2.6k] following the aftermath of the impromptu vegas wedding, little leclerc and max navigate married life. and charles is still not coping well with the whole situation.

series masterlist

.

“Does this mean I get to sit in the Red Bull garage in Abu Dhabi?” 

Charles’ head snapped around, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flaring. And if he wasn’t currently on hold with the fifth lawyer he had contacted in the last hour, you could’ve sworn he would’ve jumped over the bed and smothered you with the pillow you were currently holding to your chest. 

“Don’t give me that look,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “Maybe I want a change of scenery. I’m always in the Ferrari garage.”

“You’ve seen the Alpha Tauri and the Alpine garage too,” Charles retorted. 

You shot him a blank look. “That’s because you have Pierre watching over me like a stalker.” 

“No, he’s just being your friend,” your brother tried again. 

“So him barking at the mechanic who was just getting me water had nothing to do with the promise you made him keep?” You countered, watching as a flush of pink spread across Charles’ cheeks. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand. 

“Liar, Pierre told me about the promise,” you mused, watching as his face burned even brighter at your admission. 

As it would turn out, finding a last minute lawyer to completely null and break the marriage was much harder than Charles ever intended it to be. And after he was practically forced to halt his attempts until the race had passed, the high of P2 didn’t seem to thwart your brother’s efforts in completely shattering the connection between you and Max Verstappen. 

He had spent every free and waking moment trying to sort out the mess, including now contacting lawyers back in Monaco to get involved. And yet, the boy seemed to be getting nowhere. 

“Shouldn’t you be focused on the last race of the season instead of this mess anyways?” You continued as your eyes glanced over at the clock on the wall. “We need to leave for the airport soon. I don’t think they are going to hold the jet because you’re phoning divorce lawyers—even if you’re Charles Leclerc.” 

“You seem eager to stay married to him,” Charles grumbled under his breath as he narrowed his eyes at you. “Is there something you’re not telling me? Was this planned? Have you been seeing him for a while now?” 

“Are you hearing yourself right now?” You shook your head, letting out a huff as you pulled the pillow closer to your chest. “How come Yuki isn’t getting as much shit as I am?” 

“Because Yuki is not my sister,” he stated simply, pausing for a moment before he continued. “Plus, Yuki and his partner seem very happily married.” 

You perked up a little. “Wait, you know who he married?” 

“Well no,” Charles admitted, his brows furrowing together. “But he must be, no? He’s been happy ever since the wedding. They must be keeping it private.” 

“Apparently he didn’t even tell Pierre,” you said to your brother, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. “Maybe he’s embarrassed with who he married.” 

“Can’t be more embarrassing than marrying you—OW!” 

“Don’t say stupid things then,” you snapped back at him with an innocent smile on your face. “You’re just pissed I got married before you.” 

Charles’ glare hardened. “No, I’m pissed because you got married in Vegas of all places.” There was a pause. “And the fact you practically married a stranger!”

“Max is hardly a stranger, you’ve known him since you were like five years old!” You argued back.

“Still a stranger!”

“You are so dramatic,” you commented. “Maman accepted it, why can’t you?”

“Maman is confused,” Charles muttered with a crease between his eyebrows. 

You raised your brows. “Did you say that to her?”

Charles’ face paled a little. “Well no—”

Your grin widened.

Charles blanched. “Don’t you dare!”

You cackled as you reached for your phone. “This is payback for disrespecting me and my husband!” 

...

...

“I don’t understand why I have to be blindfolded.”

“It’s a precaution insisted by Christian.”

“Do all wives have to be blindfolded then?”

“The ones with the former name Leclerc do.”

You pressed your lips together to hide your smile as you wrapped your arms around Max’s bicep, letting him lead you into the Red Bull garage with the black cloth tied over your eyes. You knew you probably didn’t have long until Charles came running to drag you out of the Red Bull garage and back to the red side, so you took up Max’s offer in the meantime. 

You didn’t count on Christian Horner being two steps away from Red Bull’s very own Christian Grey to his garage guests. 

“Does this mean I get to blindfold you when you come to the Ferrari garage?” You asked, your voice lighthearted and your tone teasing. 

“It is one of the scenarios I would let you blindfold me,” Max answered and it took everything in you to not suddenly halt your steps. 

“Max Verstappen, you little flirt,” you said as you let out a disbelieving laugh, hoping the boy hadn’t turned back to look at you when you could feel your face heating up. 

“You’re my wife. Surely I’m allowed to flirt with you now,” the Dutchman retorted, his hands moving to rest over yours as you two finally came to a stop. 

“You’re saying you wouldn’t have flirted with me before?” 

“That feels like a trick question,” Max snorted before his fingers nimbly undid the knot behind your head, letting the blindfold fall away from your eyes as he stood in front of you with an almost smug look on his face. “But I would have flirted with you if I didn’t think your brother would have my balls for it.”

“So you just married me instead,” you retorted with a smile of your own.

“What can I say, I don’t half-ass things,” he said with a casual shrug of his shoulders.

“I should have known you give the vibes of a Vegas wedding kinda guy,” you remarked as you blinked a few times, getting used to the shift in light as you began looking around the garage. It didn’t look too different from the Ferrari garage, but it was still intriguing to witness it all. 

A different team. A different car. A different work ethic. 

After so many years with Ferrari, it felt like being in a foreign country as you stood amongst so much blue.

“What kind of wedding would you have wanted?” 

The question snapped you out of your daze, whirling your head around to look at the Dutchman with a curious expression. You waited to see if a witty remark was going to follow, but he continued to stare at you expectantly and you realised he was genuinely waiting for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “I mean, I know my mother always wanted me to have a fairytale wedding at some pretty venue in a white dress and—”

“I didn’t ask what wedding your mother would have wanted, I asked what wedding you would have wanted,” Max interrupted, and your lips parted a little in surprise. 

“A fun one,” you replied. 

Max’s brows furrowed together. “A fun one?”

“Yes, a fun one. You asked me what wedding I would want and it’s a fun one,” you repeated with a nod of your head, smiling a little at the visible confusion written across his face. “Everybody always talks about weddings being so intense and stressful and that’s just…not me. I don’t care about where it is or what season it’s held in. I would just want to be with the people I love and I want to have a good time.” 

He nodded, his lips pressed together as though he was processing your answer. “Surely the Vegas wedding fits that.”

“It would have if my family and friends were there,” you said, laughing a little. “Despite the dinner invite, Maman will probably string me up for not getting married with her there.”

Max’s eyes widened comically. “Wait, she was serious about that?” 

You snorted. “She’s already sent me the menu.”

“I am actually having dinner with your mother?” Max hissed and, for the first time in your life witnessed with your own eyes, you could have sworn he looked nervous.

“She won’t bite,” you laughed. 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother.”

“Well, she does want to meet the man I married.” 

“Oh my god, I am meeting your mother as your husband.”

...

...

“Be honest: would you have made me a bridesmaid at your wedding?” 

You blinked, looking up from the burrito bowl you had managed to grab from Ferrari’s catering before you looked at the blond across from you. 

“Or a bridesman. Whatever you call it,” Logan continued as he looked at you expectantly. 

You stared at the American with a fairly blank expression, though it didn’t seem to do much to his eagerness for you to answer the question. Though, you didn’t know why you were surprised about the whole thing. The last week had been Logan throwing random questions at you, Arthur laughing at your facial expressions and Oscar deeply sighing at the whole interaction. 

“You weren’t even invited to the wedding,” Oscar pointed out, poking about the salad bowl he had. 

“Neither were you,” Logan retorted.

“And thank god for that, Lando showed me the pictures,” Oscar grumbled with his nose scrunched up. “I would have been traumatised for life if I witnessed it with my own two eyes.” 

“Hey,” you frowned, kicking your foot out under the table until you hit his shin. “You know what, I’m suddenly excited not to see either of you during the winter break.”

Oscar snorted. “Sure.” 

“You still haven’t answered my question,” Logan piped up, his attention shifting to you once again. “Would you let me?”

“Depends,” you answered honestly as you leaned back in your seat. “Would you want to do a speech?”

Logan scoffed. “Obviously.”

“Then no,” you replied almost instantly.

The boy gaped at you. “What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t trust you,” you stated simply before you glanced over at Oscar too. “Neither of you, if I’m being honest.”

Oscar’s brows furrowed together. “Woah, what did I do?” 

“Existed,” you grumbled under your breath, only for the Australian to be the one to kick your shin under the table this time. “Ouch!”

“Not so fun, is it?” He grumbled back at you. 

“You didn’t even have a speech at your wedding! Surely no speech is worse than a bad one,” Logan added, far too invested on a speech you doubted he could even write.

“That’s not true. Yuki did a speech,” you told him.

Both boys’ raised their eyebrows. “He did?”

“Probably, seems like something he would do,” you shrugged. 

“Or maybe his partner gave it,” Oscar added. “Whoever that may be.”

“I can’t believe he still won’t tell us,” you said with your lips turned downwards. “In the Red Bull garage, Christian even asked him and he just giggled before running off.” 

“Maybe he’s a private guy.”

“You were in the Red Bull garage?” 

“Your difference in priorities are baffling,” you noted with an amused expression. “Yes, I was in the Red Bull garage. And Yuki being a private person is a load of bullshit. He’s the biggest gossip on the grid, he’s just sneakier than everyone else.”

“Which means he would hide it better,” Oscar pointed out. 

“At least Yuki would let me say a speech at his wedding,” Logan muttered under his breath.

“Would he though?”

“Shut up.” 

“I’m just saying—”

“You know what, I hope Lando scars you with more photos from her wedding,” Logan threatened, staring at the Aussie with narrowed eyes.

“Hey, my wedding photos aren’t that scary!” You frowned.

“The one of Max’s tongue down your throat says otherwise.”

“I am literally trying to eat my salad, can both of you shut up?”

...

...

“So, are we gonna talk about it?”

“Talk about what?”

“Your wedding.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Ha! Sure!”

Max’s brows furrowed together as he lifted his head, only to find the Australian staring at him already. They had both been huddled in his driver room in between meetings and practise sessions, enjoying some peace and quiet before the social media team tried to rope them into some weird activity. However, what Max assumed would be a mostly silent hangout where he could read over some data quickly devolved into the older Australian making little remarks until he finally gave in and put his tablet down.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh nothing,” Daniel said as he gave the boy a casual shrug, though his grin only seemed to widen in response. Max was about to open his mouth, to tell him that was fine before he returned to his work, but the Aussie already began speaking again. “I just think it’s such a funny coincidence that your childhood crush is now your wife.”

Max froze, his cheeks instantly heating up at his words. “I don’t know what you’re on about.”

“No? The conversation where you told me you had the fattest crush on Charles’ little sister growing up and used to constantly try to impress her on the karting races she visited doesn’t ring a bell?” Daniel continued, feigning innocence despite the fact he could see Max’s face growing pinker by the second.

“I think you have the wrong person,” Max said as he cleared his throat, suddenly finding his tablet interesting once again even though the numbers and words on the screen were practically gibberish to his whirling mind.

“And the conversation where you couldn’t stop talking about how pretty she was when you bumped into her in the paddock on Charles’ first Formula One race?”

“You must have imagined that conversation.”

“What about the time you ignored that famous actor because Lando told you he flirted with her when he visited the Ferrari garage?”

“I have no recognition of that.”

“And the time you—”

“Is there a point to this?” Max suddenly interrupted him, his face feeling as though it was on fire and his heart beating wildly in his chest and the smug look on his friend’s face was doing little to help the feelings bubbling in his stomach. 

“I am just waiting to see when you’re going to admit you masterminded this whole thing,” Daniel said to him, so sure and blunt about the statement.

“I didn’t mastermind anything,” Max said with a frown. “We got drunk and we got married in Vegas. Many people have done it before us. Many people will do it after us too.”

“And the fact she was your first love?” Daniel questioned.

“She was not,” Max scoffed, pausing for a moment before he continued. “And even if she was, I don’t like her like that anymore.”

“Oh, of course,” Daniel snickered under his breath. “So I am assuming you’re rushing to help Charles find a divorce lawyer then?”

Max paused for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I mean. After the last race, obviously. My focus needs—”

“To be on a race that has no effect on your life other than adding another trophy to your shelf?” Daniel teased. “As if you couldn’t be talking to lawyers on the radio whilst racing with your eyes shut.”

“It’s just not a priority right now,” Max huffed out, clearing his throat a little.

“Uh huh,” Daniel laughed, shaking his head. “You know, usually the first step is a date, not marriage but I am going to respect whatever lil’ mastermind plan you have concocted in your head.”

Max let out a whine, throwing his head back. “I don’t have a plan!”

Daniel raised his brows. “So inviting her to watch the race from the Red Bull garage is just a random act of kindness to the enemy then?”

“She’s my wife, not the enemy. And it’s not random at all.”

Daniel snorted.

“Oh fuck off,” Max grumbled. “This is why you weren’t invited to the wedding in the first place.” 

“Actually, you did—”

“Shut up.”

...

liked by arthur_leclerc, oscarpiastri, landonorris and 261, 738 others

yourusername season over and out🫡gonna go bully charles with the dutch national anthem for three months now

view all 13,547 comments

landonorris that's just evil

yourusername shut up or i will bully you too

landonorris why are you so rude when i am literally your personal photographer

yourusername you still made me pay for dinner

user IS THAT MAX???

user omg not the red bull/ferrari contrast

user i wonder how charles is taking this

arthur_leclerc still badly

oscarpiastri i have been begging for you to wear a mclaren cap all year

yourusername keep begging, loser

user the montagues and capulets could never

logansargeant i'm taking the blue as williams support too

maxverstappen1 keep telling yourself that

yourusername be nice

user HELP THE WAY HE IS PROTECTING THE RED BULL BLUE IN THE COMMENTS

user this is my roman empire

charles_leclerc take this down

yourusername no

charles_leclerc take this down please

yourusername still no

maxverstappen1 too much red

yourusername you said i looked good in red :(

maxverstappen1 i said you looked good in red bull merch, get your facts right

yourusername someone's cranky after all the shots last night

user THEY HAVE JUST ACCEPTED THE MARRIAGE AND BLATANTLY STARTED FLIRTING ON MAIN STOP

charles_leclerc why would you say this

.

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy

synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help

contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!

word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)

notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋

he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.

he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 

what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.

“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”

“you’re late,” you spit.

“am i? i could have sworn—”

“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 

“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 

what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.

“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”

“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”

typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.

he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 

i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 

but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 

he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 

you hate him.

“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”

“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”

“what?” your eye twitches.

“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”

before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.

“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”

“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”

is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.

“you’re an asshole,” you spit.

“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 

“i saw you post on your story last night—”

“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”

“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”

“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”

“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.

“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.

“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”

“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”

“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”

“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.

—————

like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.

hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished

btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 

i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him

oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)

you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.

okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.

k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.

the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.

wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?

that’s ok i don’t judge

so how bout the party? 

i can be ur escort ;) 

it’ll be fun!

from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.

—————

gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 

frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.

he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 

it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 

why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 

gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 

“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 

why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.

“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.

gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.

“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.

“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”

“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”

“he has a name. it’s—”

“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”

“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?

“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”

“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.

okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.

he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”

“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”

“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”

“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”

“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”

“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”

“you mentioned it first!”

“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”

“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”

“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”

he is not lazy, he wants to argue.

but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 

—————

the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 

gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 

“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”

“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.

“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”

you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 

“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.

“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”

you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”

he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 

“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”

“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.

“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 

settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.

“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”

he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.

“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”

“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”

you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 

okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.

“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 

“what makes you say that?”

“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”

he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.

“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”

“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.

“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”

“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 

but not so bad. 

“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”

“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”

“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”

—————

“hey, satoru?”

“that’s not my name.”

“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.

“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 

you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.

“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.

“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”

“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”

“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”

“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”

finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.

satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real

[gremlingottoosilly]

Moo business (monster!Konig x CowHybrid!fem!Reader)

Promotion to colonel has its perks. Having your own caretaker with fluffy cow years and a nice pair of...additions is one of them - and Konig is about to enjoy his new rank.

Content warning: Hybrids, Konig is a huge pervert, naive cow hybrid reader, slight dub-con, power imbalance, and inappropriate work behavior, lactation kink. Implied big chested!Reader

Humans have learned to live with monsters. Obviously, having dangerous, much more powerful neighbors in this tiny green planet, didn’t allow humans to actually thrive and succeed – the power dynamics were shifted ever since the first monster decided, that wearing a collar and identification badge doesn’t really go with their style. And humans would be much more suited to wear it. 

Unfortunately, monsters aren’t created equal – while most of them are killing machines with little to no regard to the danger of real life, there are some particularly fragile hybrids with no use in fights or even normal life. House cat hybrid girls, almost no claws and all purring and laying on their backs to let humans and other monsters pet their bellies. Sheep hybrids, all fluff and tiny, rounded horns that would never hurt anyone. Cow hybrids, adorable and silly, no use in the fights except for moral support. 

Which is exactly why König was fucking pissed. 

— G…good evening, sir. I will be your assistant for the day. I mean, every day. As long as you’re having me. 

You smile nervously, munching on your lips. When the only way up the social ladder was working in the army as an…assistant? Moral support? Waving your nurse training like you’d be able to safely secure a monster’s health when he is twice as big as you? 

Being a colonel in the army has its perks – better gear, better paycheck, better chunks of meat that he can bite off the enemies without higher-ups whining about war crimes and rules of war. Having a cute lil’ assistant with fluffy ears and a chest that physically can’t fit into the uniform, forcing you to wear permanent cleavage and just let a bit of chubbiness roll on the tight fabric is also a perk. For a pervert, maybe, but not for König who is already sworn to never deal with anyone who is this sensitive, this soft, and this…adorable. 

He thought he was quite certain in his wishes – if higher-ups really need for him to take a fuck toy, he wanted it to be resilient. Maybe a dog hybrid, maybe a vampire, just weak and hungry enough to overpower with little fights. Not someone like you, who has no idea what she is doing in the army and why her hands are trembling like he is going to devour you alive. Although, looking at the way your chest is swaying every time you flinch…maybe, he can do just that. Teach higher-ups a lesson on why he doesn’t need their handouts. 

— Dismissed. 

He doesn’t even look at you. Honestly, you’re a bit hurt – honestly, you almost want to yell at him or scream or tell all of your higher-ups that the colonel is a huge jerk who clearly doesn’t need a little cow darling to make him coffee and tend to his needs and be a huge moral support because they can’t take another fucked out recruit when the dangerous hybrid is in heat again. You feel like a glorified whore – the one that he doesn’t even want. 

— B…but…

You pout your lips, a billion questions raised in your mind – why is he like this, what is his deal and you should even look at him if he clearly doesn’t want you…and that look on your face, helplessness mixed with a bit of deliciously sweet anger, combined with your soft, doe features…

Colonel has a problem. 

He thought he knew what he wanted – a strong partner, someone resilient and fiery, someone who can take his cock anywhere without whining. Someone who wouldn’t require a lot of attention and softness, someone who knows their place. Now König looks at you, your floppy ears and trembling lips, and his gaze darts lower, his nose getting milk fragrances even under all of those layers of fabric. 

It doesn’t take a genius to know why they sent you. He doesn’t need a secretary, he doesn’t need an assistant and even if he needs help with something, there are always lower ranks ready to do whatever he says. You’re useless to him, on all levels he can imagine – and yet, he can’t find it in him, to truly dismiss you. To hate your trembling lips and obedient stare – no thought behind those pretty eyes of yours. He always thought he wanted someone strong, someone who is hard to break and resilient to any advances. 

He looks at you and, for the first time in forever, has this wild urge to protect. 

— Sir? Is everything alright? 

You tilt your head to the side, that naive stare you has makes his cock twitch in his pants. It was a long time since he had sex with anyone, especially that adorable. Some hybrids look like they are made to be fucked and loved and used in all of those delicious ways – he knows it’s problematic, he knows that having that view on fellow monsters isn’t right for someone as strong as him, but he wants to devour you. Wants to see that pretty eyes wide from desire – he knows you’d feel the urge too, it’s in your blood, to present your soft belly and even softer tits to a larger predator. 

Indulging on you would mean giving up on his attempts of constantly undermining the higher-ups – it would also mean that he would finally receive a partner for the extensive mating seasons that clash with his work and make his skilling rate go up – and not just for the enemies. Private Halseen, you will be missed. Your ass probably wouldn’t. 

— I thought you’d heard me the first time. 

— But I brought coffee.

— They make coffee machines in cows now? 

— Sir! I was just trying to…break the ice? I’m your new operator, or, um, assistant, I have nurse training, and I…

— What are you going to do with an injury? Lick it away? 

— M…my saliva has healing properties, so…

— They really sent me a magic cow, ja? 

— That’s a very…special way to put it, colonel.

You are surprisingly stubborn for someone who isn’t a confident killing machine. You balance the little tray with a cup of coffee – a big one, seems like you did your homework on that one – and he can’t help but imagine your hands gripping something else this tightly. Your body is trembling, your face switches between a sad and a surprised expression as he slowly emerges from his table to get a good look at you. 

You’re a cow hybrid – they are naturally adorable, naturally soft, and naturally made for someone like him to tower over. He is good over 7 foot, even in mostly human form, and his monster height would be almost twice your size – he'd love to take you like this, raw, bully his giant cock into your, no doubt, tight pussy, and make you squeal from the stretch. Maybe, he can help you with milk production – put another hybrid into you, make your belly swell from his cum. Keep you locked away in his room like a perfect little treat, using your soft body as a perfect pillow. 

He can’t help but lick his lips in anticipation – saliva collecting in his mouth as the thinks of all the ways he can use such a pretty secretary. There is no way you don’t know why they sent you here – no way you think that your self-worth is something more than being his obedient pet, beloved toy. König never thought of settling down, the bloodshed is his one and only partner – but he looks at your rounded horns, at your twitching ears and pouty lips – and he thinks about putting his earring right into your floppy ear. lick away all the blood and calm you down as you’d squirm under the pain, soothe your panicking cow brain as he would bully his cock even deeper, claiming you as…

Ah, shit. You’re still here, waiting for his answer – your eyes are shocked and afraid, anticipated a little bit because of course you’re aroused, his pheromones are too overwhelming for a thing like you – you stare at the bulge in his pants, at nis, no doubt, hard cock – and he can almost see gears in your head turning slowly. God, you’re adorable. 

— You forgot the milk. 

— Sergeant Horangi didn’t say anything about milk. 

So, Horangi was the one to set you up. Of course, tiger shifter probably got his hots on you – pretty prey, perfect for every hunter nearby, but, just as a good officer, he let you go to his colonel first. You talk back with a surprisingly fierce tone and König appreciates the way his mask covers up his whole face – you couldn’t see his smile, the way corners of his mouth jerked up at your pout. Continue like this, and the colonel will do more than just smile at your antics. 

— Probably because he knew that our milk is shitty. 

— If…if you need me to bring you something else, I will do it right away, sir. 

— No need, Kuhen. I think you have what I need right here. 

His cock twitches in his pants again – your eyes are locked on his bulge, you slowly push the tray to the table. You’re naive, you’re cute, and he knows that KorTac probably pays you triple for being this adorable and playing dumb like the good girl you are – bastards probably know that if you’d be upfront and pushy, he would just set you away from his office. 

But standing here, munching on your lower lip, your soft, pink tongue disappearing in your mouth only to reaper to lick your lips again, your face not ever betraying the emotions you, no doubt, are feeling – König can smell your arousal, can almost see the way your pussy is glittering with juices flowing right into your soaked panties. They send a lamb – a cow – to his chambers and they know that he would never resist a good hunt. You allow him to cut through the chase, to just pin you to his desk and take what’s his – but anxiety, that stupid fucking worm eating his brain over the tiniest facts, is making him question everything again. He knows he thinks too much, he knows it’s not going to do him any good – still, he wants to be sure that you’re not too dumb to understand his advances. Still, he wants to play a bit more. Delay the moment of sex because his doubt can eat him alive otherwise. 

— Take off your shirt, Schatzen. 

He doesn’t even look at your chest, bouncing from the tight shirt you were wearing – poor buttons holding on for dear life, barely containing your soft flesh – he drinks up your expressions, embarrassment, and poorly hidden curiosity. You saw the job requirements for an operator, saw his profile – high risks, high aggression, can be very, very violent – and you decided that you can take him, for the right pay. 

— You want me to…take off something else, sir?

A smart girl would run the fuck away from him – but you just lock your hands in front of you, not even bothering to cover your chest. God, he wants to be with you forever – just for that little look on your face your nervousness. You’re standing in front of him, only wearing pants and your bra – and you’re afraid that he isn’t going to like what he sees. 

Just for this expression, he might as well push a ring on your finger already. 

— Ja. Bra is next. 

You nod like you expected this. You probably did – for a prey hybrid, you’re surprisingly smart in understanding what he needs. Your bra is lacy and cute, white, with little flat roses printed – surely not something he expected from military personnel, even if your duties are laying in under him, not with your belly in trenches and your cute hands squeezing the trigger. 

Your breasts look even bigger without a bra to keep them close. You place a hand under your chest, feeling a bit awkward with your colonel just standing here, looming over your form. You lick your lips – he cocks his head closer to you. You can hear something shifting under his hood – you don’t know what his face looks like, rumors were opting for either a bunch of tentacles tucked neatly inside of his hood, the head of some mythical animal, or a normal, but disfigured and burned human face. You don’t know which option you prefer – even the files you were reading before choosing this job didn’t give you an answer. There is something stirring inside of you when you’re thinking about tentacles, though. 

— Braves Mädchen…good girl. 

You smile, feeling the knot in your tummy getting even tighter at the praise. You like him – despite his rough exterior and the obvious arousal, you like being liked, wanted, and devoured by a much stronger predator. Not having any supernatural powers, your only survival option in this world is to appease the strongest – and it looks like you just got a really juicy target. 

Suddenly, König grabs your waist and lifts you to his table – documents go flying around and you put a bit more, thinking of how long it would take to put everything back together. He doesn’t care for your concerns – the next thing you know, you are pushed ever further into his table, and the colonel lifts the end of his hood just enough to envelop his mouth on one of your nipples. 

— S…sir! Please, a little warning next time…

He laughs, his hands pressing small, sweet bruises into the curve of your waist. His mouth feels cold at first – then he flicks his tongue at your hardened nipple, and it feels like an oven. You moan you squeak, you squirm under him – all those documents and transferring and half a dozen Suits trying to tell you of how dangerous your work is going to be, how unstable and irritated the colonel is, how he is probably going to shoo you from his office the first two weeks – all of this comes flying right out the window. 

— You already think of the next time, Schatzen? 

König never tastes something as sweet, as silky, and smooth as your breasts. There is something deep, primal, wild in the way he sucks and bites at your nipple – he devours the taste of your skin and it feels like he can come to his pants just from the feeling alone. You’re squirming in his grasp, poor thing, probably aren’t used to sensation – he closes his eyes and allows his monster to take over, to take what he wants from you. 

He shifts to your other breasts, warming and cooling them at the same time. He isn’t an expert in that weird kind of massage, but you don’t need an expert in boob sucking when all of your cow instincts telling you to spread your legs and allow him to put babies in you, to breed like the prey you are, to take care of you outside of this stupid job. You’re terrified that his sharp teeth can draw blood and arouse at the way his tongue clicks at your nipples so perfectly, so naturally, like he was doing it his whole life. 

You moan, whispering little begs and praying to deaf ears. Your hands are going to hig his neck, to just kind put your fingers on his hood and just keep it here, not daring to try and direct the movements of his tongue. All of those days of constant preparing for the worst, long nights of studying the psychology of hunters, of predator hybrids, didn’t leave you much time to milk yourself in the past week – you might just be a hybrid, but it doesn’t release you from the endless burden of constant lactation. 

— S…so embarrassing…please, sir, we need to stop or I will…

— Ja, meine Kuh? Did you want to say something to your colonel? 

— Please, I’m going to…fuck, this is embarrassing…

— Language. 

He closes his teeth on your tender bud, making you moan his name – his callsign – loudly. He grunts from satisfaction, finally tasting sweet milk pouring from his body – might be the only thing that makes cow hybrids useful for someone as strong as him. 

Your milk is sweet, rich, and creamy, and your little cries only make it tastier. He pushes his tongue deeper, swirls it around your hardened bud, waits for you to moan even more – every inch of your being makes him feel weird, protective, like he already put a baby in that soft tummy of yours and made you his. It’s dumb, you aren’t even connected on the official level – but he sucks your milk ever so passionately, forgetting about every mission trouble he had.

Sucking your tits feels like therapy – giving up all of his powers just to kiss you, to bite you, to drink your milk, and softly massage the flesh until your pussy starts to grind against the round corner of his table. Poor thing, he doesn’t even touch you in any way – you’re too precious for this, and he falls too deeply into your eyes and the swell of your chest. 

— Sir! Pl…please, don’t…if you’d stop, I will…

He drinks your milk swiftly, feels the liquid dripping down his chin – always a messy eater, one of the reasons he used the mask to hide his embarrassment. He can’t look at your face, the angle is too far off for this, and it disappoints him – he wants to drink your pretty expressions, wants to know that he is one to make that pretty cow this slutty. Just a few minutes ago he was ready to get your ass off his office – and now he is changing between two of your round breasts, making sure to not waste a drop. 

Fuck, this is far better than any milk the base kitchen can provide. 

He sucks a little bit more, pressing his tongue against your swollen, abused nipples. You whine at the sensation, poor little hybrid isn’t used to his teeth and his mouth – he’d have to make sure to repeat this procedure every other day, if possible, to get you used to direct milking. He’d have to spend weeks spreading your pretty cunt for him, teaching you how to milk his cock and meowl like a good prey hybrid you are – but he didn’t become colonel because he was afraid of challenges. 

He stops sucking with a little pop, final droplets of milk falling to his lips as he licks it, groaning from pleasure. His stubble made the soft skin around your nipples irritated and you tremble when the cold air hits them – you feel fragile, used, your pussy is twitching around nothing, the pulsation forcing you to grind against the corner of his table like a bitch in heat. 

König made you like this – half-naked, trembling, so fucking horny that you can’t even look at him without dropping to your knees, and it almost made you want to run away. He squeezes your tits again, enveloping the soft mounts in his large, rough hands – you whine a little bit, still all too sensitive after this pleasurable torture he created. 

— How do you feel? 

He sounds…weaker now. Almost embarrassed at his little outburst, he picks up your bra and helps you get dressed – you both want more, to check if his table is really as sturdy as it looks, but König has a training session in 30 minutes and you have König’s training session, standing behind his shoulder and watching him yelling at the recruits. It would be hard to get scared at him again, when every time his cold gaze darts to your face, he softens. When you look at him and can only imagine milk dripping down your chin – your milk, no less. 

— I’m…empty. In a good way, I mean. Thank you, sir.

You feel weird when he gently helps you get into your clothes, his fingers are simply too big for the buttons – he presses his head against your shoulder, trying to concentrate, and you awkwardly hug him for stability. He chuckles. 

— My pleasure, Schatzen. 

You stand here, awkwardly – your neck enveloped with a collar, with his name on it, and he can’t pry his eyes away from it. God, he never knew that being a colonel would allow him such a cutie as a bonus. KorTac didn’t seem like an organization that would give away wives so easily, but König isn’t going to complain. 

He just has to make sure to keep you chained to his table, that’s all. 

[cyberstrm]

-> catch me if i fall

levi ackerman x gn!reader

cws: injury details, injured reader

a/n rewatching aot,,,, soft levi brainrot

"what the hell are you doing."

levi's harsh voice cut through the silent kitchen. you could tell he wasn't asking, per se, more like demanding to know why you were up.

two weeks ago, the scouts were on a recon mission outside the walls. it was supposed to be standard, but things went rogue quickly. your ODM gear snapped and you fell tens of meters through the trees. you hit the ground, hard, and shattered your knee. you don't remember a lot of it, just a lot of your own screaming and your captain whisking you onto his horse.

a day or so later, you woke up, knee in layers of bandages. you'd been ordered to stay in bed by your captain (and partner, awkwardly enough) levi ackerman. you'd never seen him so rattled, hands shaking, voice trembling.

"you fell, you fell so far and i couldn't catch you in time."

honestly, staying in bed was getting very boring, so you chanced a trip to the kitchen in the middle of the night when you assumed levi was asleep.

evidently, he wasn't.

"i...um, well, i wanted-"

"you're supposed to be in bed, your leg isn't healed yet."

you scowled. "yeah, i know, but-"

"look at you, you can barely hold yourself up." his tone was harsh, even though it was clear he was trying to be caring. he approached you slowly, setting a hand at your lower back. you flinched away, annoyed.

"i know. i'm bored, and being cooped up in my room is driving me mad." you turned to face him, but moved too quickly. your knee twinged, and you legs buckled.

levi caught you swiftly, holding you tight. his gaze softened.

"listen, i know it's hard. but you're not going to heal if you move around too much."

you sniffled, feeling tears prick in your eyes.

"shhh, angel, i know. it's okay. come on, let's get you back into bed."

he helped you back to bed, holding your waist tightly as you limped beside him.

he set you down on the cool white sheets, and tucked you in neatly. he stroked the hair from your eyes gently.

"stay for a bit?" you asked, batting your eyelids.

"mhm."

he sat by your side, still stroking your hair softly.

"i'm sorry." he said out of the blue.

"for what?" you asked, puzzled.

"for not being able to catch you, when you fell."

you chuckled. "don't be silly, it wasn't your fault." you sat up, looking into his slate grey eyes. he didn't look convinced. you took his face in your hands. "it wasn't your fault."

"i'll catch you next time. i swear it."

"i mean, you caught me earlier, in the kitchen," you smiled weakly, trying to make him feel better.

you could've sworn you saw a smile flicker across his face. he leant forward and kissed you.

"get some sleep now, doll."

[miyukisu]

If You're Down, Boy .ᐟ

❤︎ | Karasu thinks you've got quite a mouth on you—time for him to show you what he can do with his too and make you shut up (3k wc) ╰ feat. karasu tabito (bllk) x afab! reader

kinktober entry no. 7 | kinktober masterlist

tags - college au, you and karasu are mean to each other, enemies to lovers, hate smex, rough smex (?), handjobs, p in v, p*rn with plot, hair pulling, drunk smex, he slaps your ass once, unprotected smex, dubcon(?), profanity

minors do not interact

College life isn't complete without experiencing at least one frat party. At this point, joining a game of beer pong or spin-the-bottle were some of the pre-requisites before you leave the so-called hellscape.

You picked your poison and you ended up involved in a circle, playing the infamous game—Seven Minutes in Heaven.

Everyone knows what goes down in that game. People get laid. Well, maybe nine times out of ten—they do. You were hopeful you'd be one of those lucky cases because why not? You're in your youth and in college. This was the only time engaging in Seven Minutes in Heaven induced sex is acceptable.

Although, your hope quickly ran thin as soon as your friends declared that your partner was none other than Karasu Tabito. The alcohol you had consumed earlier began to cloud your thoughts as the cheers of the people around you flooded your senses.

Right in front of you—Karasu had a flat expression. It's like his face was telling you just how much he dreaded the thought of being stuck with you in the basement for 7 whole minutes.

It was an apt reaction to have. After all, you hated each other's guts.

The arguments you had 2 semesters ago rang through your head as your friends practically dragged you two to the basement, knowing that neither of you would have the initiative to do so.

You swore, the whole way down, his eyes were on you—judging and scrutinizing like he always did. That's precisely what annoys you about him. Karasu Tabito was so goddamn hypercritical and it really showed when you two worked together on a final project.

Who cares if he was smarter or better—does he have no concept of politness or respect? AT ALL? In the end, your relationship went up in flames and after that semester, you two wanted nothing to do with each other.

But, as you can see right now, being in a circle of mostly common friends made that impossible. And on this fine Friday night, you find yourself locked in the basement with your sworn enemy.

��───────────

You sat on the dusty staircase that led down to the basement while Karasu stood off to the side. For a large frat house, you didn't expect the basement to be so cramped and dim...

"Yer really not gon' speak at all huh?" he started.

You whipped your head to face him, expression already filled with confusion. "And what is there to talk about?"

"Irritable as ever—I see."

"Wow. I wonder what causes that. Hm?"

He lets out a chuckle of disbelief. For a moment, he had nothing to say back because he figured 2 semesters apart would be enough to at least ease the tension between the two of you. But it would seem that he was mistaken. Sourly mistaken, in fact.

"Still can't move on?" he asks with that all-knowing smirk of his. It irritated you even more to see him so relaxed, arms crossed over his chest and idly leaning against whatever junk was piled in this basement.

"If you got partnered up with anyone as mean as you—you'd understand how I feel," you retorted. Karasu only huffed in amusement before straightening his posture.

"Oh, I'm the mean one now? Seems like you forgot all of the things you said—"

"But you started it," you cut him off.

Both of you knew it was insanely childish to be arguing over a months old spat and debating on who started it all. But maybe it was the emotions building up over time or... the copious amounts of alcohol circulating in both of your systems.

"Yer such a child," he jeers. "And you're fucking annoying," you respond back.

Silence ensues until Karasu whispered something under his breath. "Bitch..."

You quickly shot up, fiery gaze locked on the taller man. "The fuck did you call me?"

Karasu looked down at you as you stood right in front of him. His eyes were dark, but dazed. "Ya heard me."

"Fuck you."

"Hm, ya wish ya could."

Your jaw fell open; the audacity of this man put you in shock. "Oh, please, you're probably a two pump chump anyway. Don't be so cocky."

"Heh, ya think I'm a quick one? Why don'cha see fer yerself? Or are ya too scared?"

The sudden shift to provocation was unexpected. You were prepared for him to come back with an emotionally fueled response—not this. Definitely not this.

"There's no way I'm touching you." You look off to the side, crossing your arms for full effect.

"I knew it."

With eyes narrowed, you returned your gaze to Karasu. "Knew what?"

"Yer a virgin aren'cha? Haven't seen a dick before huh?" And he laughs. Karasu bursts out in thundering laughter at the thought of you being inexperienced.

"You ass. I'm not."

It was a full-faced lie. Your last boyfriend busted even before you could get your clothes off. But that was irrelevant now that you're trying to keep your pride intact.

His laughter dies down. "Ah... that's what a virgin would say."

"Oh please. I bet I can do you in a minute," you tell him. It was only a second after then you realized that you just kept saying the first thing that came to mind. You were sober enough to hold a conversation and sit up properly, but clearly it was affecting your better judgment.

But rather than be opposed to it, Karasu matched your pace.

With an amused expression, he took on your challenge. "Hah! And I can do ya even faster. How 'bout that?"

Those devious eyes of his stared into yours. If it weren't for the booze—you probably wouldn't be agreeing to something so stupid.

────────────

As soon as the door to the basement swung open, you two stormed out. The once cheerful faces of your friends all faltered as they watched both of you get farther and farther away from the group.

Everyone assumed you two fought... again. Drunk and unbothered, they shrugged it off and went back to playing. They were none the wiser that just after entering a random bedroom on the second floor—you to got straight into business.

He was sat on one of the messy desks, pants unbuckled with his dick in your hand. You jerked him off at a quicker pace than usual; your pride was on the line after all. Besides, if he was hurt, he wouldn't be looking into your eyes like that.

"That all you got?" he asked, his voice a bit raspy.

You click your tongue in frustration. Truthfully, you had been expecting a completely different outcome—one wherein you would stay true to your word.

It had been more than a minute at this point. But, you placated yourself by thinking that you're fine as long as you can do it faster than him.

"Shut up," you retorted.

Karasu chuckled softly. "No one's cummin' at all if yer gon' be mean. Ya know?"

You looked him dead in the eye, anger boiling in the pits of your stomach. Of course, you could've goaded him into cumming with your words... or with your mouth, but in another sense. But you were set on winning this with minimal effort.

You ran your thumb over the slit, around the head. Hell, you even traced the underside of his dick, along the curve. But nothing. His expression never shifted once. It always remained in his neutral cocky expression.

Karasu eventually had enough. He grabbed your wrist, halting all your motions. "Jeez, yer terrible at this."

It was like a punch to the gut. But before you could take care of your bruised ego, Karasu had stood up from the desk, dragging you over to the bed by the wrist.

"H-hey, what are you doing?"

He threw you on top of the bed, creeping up from the foot of it. His eyes remained dark and determined. "Didn't I tell ya I could do ya faster? Well, let's jus' say this is my demonstration."

He deliberately crawled slowly to you before hovering just above your legs. Karasu wanted you to truly feel the impending doom... or pleasure rather. A calloused hand made contact with the top of your thigh which was a bit damp from sweat.

"Not lookin' too good for ya huh?"

"You talk as if you've made me cum already."

He laughs again in that same condescending tone. It made you want to rip your hair out, but it became increasingly difficult as his hand went further up. His fingertips ghosted over the skin that was barely covered by your skirt.

But the entire time, his eyes were still on your face.

"Heh... let's see how strong ya really are, shall we?"

He promptly lifts up your skirt with one hand while using the other to push your legs open. Unlike you who was influenced by alcohol and hubris, Karasu moved in a way that was deliberate and practiced. His confidence actually had roots.

A thumb slowly presses on to your throbbing clit. His smirk grows wider—if that was even possible—as he feels the wetness that pooled in your panties.

Truth be told, you hardly noticed it when you were so focused on stroking his dick earlier. But in your defense, you had a dick in your hand. And you may hate him, but it's undeniable that Karasu was still one of the most attractive men you've laid your eyes upon... that is, if he kept his mouth shut.

"Seems like ya made it easy fer me hm? Already gushing like a dam?"

"You're so fucking full of yourself."

"Hah... ya can be full 'f me too later—if ya behave yerself."

His raw words sent a jolt straight to your core. He barely gave you any time to recuperate as he dove straight to your sopping cunt, kissing it just above the fabric.

But he knew it wasn't going to cut it. He sat up again and swiftly pulled your panties off. Now that all was said and done, he got on to his stomach, hands holding you by the thighs to keep you in place. The scent of your arousal only served to make his dick swell even more as it rubbed against the covers of the bed.

He licked a long stripe up your folds, stopping to suckle at your clit. He made sure to spend an ungodly amount of time doing so—ensuring that you lose your mind from how good it felt. You instinctively arched your back, trying to move away, but his grip on your thighs only strengthened.

"Maybe if ya used your mouth on me like this... instead of whinin' ... maybe I woulda... maybe I woulda cum," he spoke between licks.

Karasu only went faster from there. He lapped up at your folds like there was no tomorrow. Both of your shaking hands found purchase in his hair chock full of gel. You knew he hated it when his hair got messed up, but this was one of the rare instances where he didn't mind at all.

A chocked out moan echoes through the room. The way he ate pussy was mind numbingly good that you had no way of stopping whatever sounds came out of your mouth.

"F-fuck," you exclaim, legs shaking as his tongue begins to prod your entrance. His pretty and pointy nose kept poking your aching clit unintentionally.

All at once—without warning—a blinding orgasm comes over you. With all your senses overwhelmed, you relax; your fingers slowly unfurl from his messed up locks. Your back lies flat against the mattress again as your chest rises up and down rhythmically.

He was kind enough to let you ride out your climax on his tongue. The whole time you were so enveloped in pleasure—his eyes were on your face and on your every expression.

Karasu gave your clit one final kiss before sitting up again, his dick bobbing from the movement. He used the back of his hand to wipe of your slick from his satisfied grin.

"Ah... shucks. No one was keepin' track of time huh? Can't blame ya. Seein' how fucked out ya look right now."

Another chuckle reverberates from his chest. Karasu was thoroughly amused by the chain of events. Maybe after seeing a more vulnerable side from you—he might reconsider his opinion on you. Keyword: Might.

"Oh shut up," you say for the nth time tonight.

"That how ya treat the guy that made ya cum so good?"

You let out an exasperated huff, annoyed that he one upped you. Even if he did eat your pussy out like a starved man—the fact remaind unchanged. Karasu Tabito was still your enemy.

"I don't... I don't care because you're still a fucking asshole."

Well, shit... seems like his opinion of you hasn't changed at all. If you hate him still, then it would only feel right to reciprocate those feelings.

Karasu groans, running his hand over his face and through his hair. "That so? Guess what, darlin'? This fuckin' asshole jus' won this bet," he says while pointing to himself. "And winners hafta claim their prizes."

"W-what?"

He easily flips you over like you weighed nothing. Those muscles were certainly not just easy on the eyes. Karasu was insanely strong. His long fingers dug into the flesh of your hips as he pulled your lower half up.

Your cheek was pressed into the bed with your ass up in the air. He made quick work of you, pulling your arms behind you and restraining you with a single hand.

For a while there was no other movement because he took his sweet time to appreciate the sight in front of him.

Karasu whistles, slapping your ass once. "Nice."

You tried saying something—anything to let him know that you haven't given up. But the sheer anticipation of his cock filling you, kept your mouth shut.

You hated him... but maybe not his dick.

"Were ya sayin' somethin'? My bad, darlin'. Can't hear ya over the sound of my dick goin' inside ya."

And he did just that—in one fluid motion, he stuck half of his length into your cunt. He hissed, not expecting for it to be this tight and warm.

"Nevermind yer mouth—if ya used this right from the start—I woulda busted instantly," he murmured.

Karasu threw his head back, only moving back-and-forth slightly. Soft and sweet mewls fell from your glossy lips.

This wasn't enough. You wanted even more. So much so that it was the only thing you could communicate to him. And he was more than happy to comply.

Not because you asked him to, but because he was planning on teaching you a lesson anyway.

"Try not ta break a'ight?"

But those words juxtaposed the harsh thrust of his hips. The sound of skin roughly slapping against each other filled the messy room. At this point, even Karasu found it hard to keep quiet.

"Been wantin' ta do this forever.... puttin' you in yer place and whatnot."

You only responded in short and ragged moans. Even though he had a vice-like grip on your arms, the pain barely registered as it was overwhelmed with sheer pleasure.

"Yeah? Feels great, right? If ya were nicer ta me... we coulda done this sooner huh?

Your pussy wrapped around his cock and the satisfaction of finally having you to his mercy slowly pushed him to the edge. Every rough thrust was fueled by all the pent up frustration he had for you over the months of being absolute assholes to each other.

It was a dangerous concoction of anger and lust boiling over, resulting in—this.

"Fuuuuuck," he drawled out. Karasu finally let go of your arms, letting them fall to your side. You quickly gripped on to the sheets as if to hold on to what remains of your composure.

Instead, he held on to your hips. His tight grip was almost bruising as he frantically chased the high you failed to give him earlier with your poor handjob. He pistoned in and out of you without care. All he sought after was his own high. You already came earlier, so he could care less at this point.

He kept bullying his cock into you, every sweet drag against your walls had you crying out. At one point, you even whined out his name. But you hardly noticed. Things spilled naturally from your mouth.

Even he almost missed it. But hearing his name fall from your lips in such a beautiful tone was music to his ears... and fuel for his dick. He wasn't sure what came over him, but he began pulling at your hair. It's like he was goading you into saying his name over and over again.

His pace never faltered once. He wouldn't have even broken into a sweat if it weren't for the humid room.

The final nail in the coffin for him was your 2nd climax. Your pussy sucked his dick in like it wants it to never leave. You fluttered around his length, messing up his rhythm for a moment.

"Shit... for an annoyin' woman like ya... ya sure have the sweetest pussy."

"Karasu..." you helplessly breathed out.

As if on cue, his thrusts had another hiccup, indicating that his own climax was near. But he was quick enough to pull out, making a 'pop' sound as he did.

He shuddered as he shot out long hot ropes of cum over the curve of your ass.

Much to his dismay, he had to settle for rubbing himself off to cum. But he wasn't about to finish inside you. The thought of him and you making an accident sent shivers down his spine, honestly.

[glasvera]

Hi not sure if your looking for requests but can you write something like the fic you just posted with punisher and winter smut but this time just winter? (Ps if you want could you add his kraken tentacles bc im are real sucker for those.please and thank you!)

Oh I GOT you-

What You Do To Me

Winter Soldier x Fem!Reader

Description: You've recently acquired a new hero suit, and suddenly, Bucky's performance is suffering. Your obliviousness to his plight is maddening, and eventually something in him is going to snap.

Warnings/Disclaimers: SMUT (18+ only, Minors DNI!!!!), cursing, clothed sex, Bucky's arm tentacles, asphyxiation, rough sex, vaginal sex, tentacle bondage

A/N: Marvel Rivals has been doing a really good job of getting me all hot and bothered for characters I didn't think twice about when they were in the MCU. Godsdamn.

Word Count: 3.2k

“Hey! Barnes! Snap out of it!”

His teammate’s voice finally breaks through to him just in time for him to duck in cover while a sniper’s bullet grazes his organic arm. Bucky winces in pain and shakes his head to clear his mind; this mission hasn’t been his best work by far. He was being reckless. None of his teammates needed to tell him that.

But, then again, you had just begun debuting your new super suit. A skin tight leotard clings to your curves, lifting you in all the right places. Your tights stop at your thighs, leaving the rest of your skin exposed as they squish into the plush of your legs. I mean, could anyone really blame him for ogling?

“Bucky!” he hears your lilting voice call out as you make your way over to him, worry etched into your features.

Oh great. Now he’s never going to get you out of his head.

You slide over to hide behind cover with him, and he instinctively catches you by the waist to halt your momentum. A yelp escapes you when he inadvertently tugs you close to him. His metallic hand is cold, even through the fabric of your suit. You could have sworn it felt like it was trembling. But you don’t have time to think about that when you see the blood soaking into his shirt sleeve. Your hand hovers over it in an instant, your eyes closing shut and muttering the proper words as a cool blue light pours out from your palm, and he groans out his relief even if he shoots you a glare afterwards.

“Don’t worry about me. Get to the rest of the team and do your job.” He hadn’t meant to put so much venom into his voice, but you being this close to him was driving him crazy. He could smell your perfume, feel the curve of your bosom when he pulled you to him, hear the sweet concern in your voice as you uttered your incantations. Being around him right now was dangerous for you, and it wasn’t because of his reckless fighting.

That doesn’t stop him from feeling terrible pangs of guilt when you recoil from him, visibly hurt. “I…”

But this is the battlefield, and there is still truth to his words. You steel yourself and nod briskly. “Right. Of course. Be careful, Soldier,” you respond curtly before taking off back into the fray.

Even with you tending to the rest of the team, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. It was starting to frustrate him endlessly. Frustration, at least, was an emotion he could channel. His attacks get more aggressive, his shots more deadly, and he ensures every enemy who crosses his path feels his pent-up rage. That doesn’t mean he dodges well, however, and as your team finishes off the remaining stragglers, he’s a sweating, bloody, bruised mess. The adrenaline begins to fade, and suddenly it’s much more difficult to stand up straight.

You had followed his orders to the letter, leaving him to his own devices. You trusted Bucky, after all. He had been one of your partners for quite some time now. But now that the battle was over, you knew it was best to check up on him. You’d seen the way he was fighting. With an exasperated sigh, you approach him to help him to the med bay. He stiffens a bit but doesn’t protest when you throw his arm over your shoulder. The two of you stumble over to the make-shift medical center, and you lie him down onto a low table.

“S…Stop fussin’ over… over me,” he mumbles weakly when you place your hands over his wounds. “‘M fine… I swear.”

You let out a deep sigh and shake your head. “If you were fine, I wouldn’t have had to drag you back here. Let me take care of you.”

Bucky doesn’t hear a word of it. His ears are ringing, and his eyes are glued to your lips as you speak. Lips that would look so pretty wrapped around his--fuck. It’s too late, and he can feel the blood beginning to rush south. He lets out a low groan and turns his head away from you. If you were going to heal him no matter what he said, then he would just have to do everything in his power to avoid looking at you.

You take his silence as defeated compliance and continue your work. Your eyes shut tight, and you recite your healing spells while hovering your hand over different parts of his body. With the extent of his injuries, the two of you stayed behind long after all the others had left. That much time leaves far too much of it for Bucky’s mind to wander. Closing his eyes doesn’t help. He can still smell the faint fragrance of your perfume, and occasionally you rest your hands directly atop his body to better channel your magics.

It’s maddening.

And what’s worse is that you’re completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. When he shifts about, you can only assume it’s from the pain. With his mask on, you can’t see the way his face reddens with each escalating fantasy in his mind.

“Ah!”

Your sudden scream yanks him out of his perverted day dreams, and his eyes snap open to find his metal arm having come to life. The plates have withdrawn and tentacles wrap around your wrists, binding them together in front of you.

“Y/N! I’m so sorry!” he apologizes as he reigns himself in and sheathes his eldritch appendages back into his arm. Fuck, when had he…?

You were completely caught off guard, your chest heaving with your quickened breaths. It had happened just as you were finishing tending to the last of his wounds, and it was so sudden you had no chance to react. Of course you had seen Bucky use these in battle to crush his enemies, and so of course for a split second you were absolutely terrified. But they had been surprisingly gentle, looking only to restrain rather than constrict or break. This only left you even more confused.

“I-I… I’m okay,” you reassure him as you stare down at your wrists. When you finally meet his gaze, you can see the way his brow furrows. “Are… are you okay, Bucky?”

Why did you have to look so damn cute when you worry over him? Why did your suit hug your tits so perfectly as you leaned over him? His face feels hot, and he rips off his mask in a desperate attempt to ease his discomfort. It does little to help.

“Can’t… can’t control myself around you,” he mumbles mostly to himself, but with his mask off you’re able to pick up on his words.

“What do you…?” After a few moments, a few glances at his flushed face and blown pupils, you catch on to his meaning. You blush and let out a soft, “Oh.”

Did the Winter Soldier really think about you like that? But then the pieces are falling into place, and all of his behaviors from the last few hours are starting to make a lot more sense. Sure, you were hoping to catch his eye with your new suit. You’d been crushing on him for a while. You never would have expected to have such a strong effect on him, though. Admittedly, you felt empowered by it.

Bucky suddenly sits up then, ready to push himself off of the table. “You did your job. I should be going.”

But you place a hand on his chest, not using much force, but enough that he stays seated and eyes you dangerously.

“Let me go, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire.”

Despite his words, he scoots back slightly as you get closer. You rest one knee on the table alongside his hip, bracing your hands on his shoulders as you throw your other leg over him and straddle him. The bare skin of your thighs scrapes along the rough fabric of his cargo pants.

“Maybe I want to get burned,” you retort seductively.

His jaw clenches, and he takes in a deep breath. You were going to be the death of him.

“Last warning,” he growls. “I’m not gonna be gentle.”

Oh gods, you don’t want him to be gentle when he talks like that. You settle onto his lap, and his hardness presses up against your core deliciously. You grind against him as your hands grab hold of his vest collar. Strong hands grip your hips, trying to hold you still, but you can see the turmoil in his eyes. It’s taking every ounce of his restraint to keep him from fucking you like an animal.

Well then, you just need to break through that last little bit.

“I don’t want you to be gentle,” you purr as you raise a hand to trace your finger along his jaw.

He jerks his hips up into you then, releasing a staggered breath as his head hangs low. “Shit…”

The pad of your index finger encourages him to lift his chin and look at you again, and it’s at least some consolation to him that your eyes seem just as crazy with desire as he feels. “I’m a healer, Barnes. You can be rough with me.”

That’s it. The final thread snaps. He grabs a handful of your ass and cradles your head with the other, lifting and tossing you so you lie on the table beneath him. His lips crash onto yours. Technique is abandoned for raw desire as a clash of teeth and tongue ensue, but it’s so rough and devouring that you moan low in your throat. He bites and tugs on your lower lip until it’s swollen, tangles his fingers into your hair and pulls until it almost hurts, and his metallic fingers squeeze and fondle your breast through your suit. Your legs wrap around his waist and you desperately try to grind up against him to relieve the aching pressure in your core.

He breaks the kiss, pulling back to admire his handiwork as you stare up at him with half-lidded eyes, and immediately attacks your neck. He bites just below your ear and sucks hard on the skin before laving his tongue along the bruise he leaves. 

“Ahn… Bucky…” you moan, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck.

His name on your lips is intoxicating, and he growls against your skin as he grinds his growing bulge against your needy cunt. His hand leaves your breast to tug desperately at the neckline of your leotard and reveal more unmarked skin. At least this suit was made to withstand all sorts of stress and impacts that would destroy normal fabri-

RIIIIIP

It tears like paper in his grip, and you gasp out in surprise when he rips it straight down the middle. The sight of more and more of you bared before him sends him into a frenzy, and you notice the metal plates shifting as though those tentacles of his were begging to break free. This unrestrained side of him shouldn’t turn you on this much, but you can feel the wetness pool in response.

For a split second, a flicker of remorse passes over his face. “Sorry,” he mutters, but just as quickly he returns to pawing at your flesh and fondling your exposed breast.

Your arms leave his neck and you raise them above your head, crossing your wrists.

“I told you not to hold back,” you state simply, looking pointedly at his metallic arm.

He cocks his head to the side and gives you a warning glare. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” he argues, but he can’t deny that the thought of it was drawing forth incredibly hot images in his mind.

“What, you think I’m not strong enough for a little bondage?” you accuse, pouting and sticking out your kiss-swollen lips.

“That’s not--fuck,” he stammers, words failing him as he feels the last of his self-control slipping away. “If I hurt you--”

“--I’ll heal it later,” you interrupt him, bringing your hands down to cup his face tenderly. “Bucky, if I didn’t want this, if I didn’t want all of you, I wouldn’t be here.” His movements stop as his attention focuses on your face and your words. You nod your head towards his metallic arm that looks ready to burst at its vibranium seams. “I know you can control it. I trust you. Plus,” you pause, shooting him a flirty smirk as you return your arms to rest above your head, “what kind of girl would I be if I didn’t take advantage of the Winter Soldier’s tentacles?”

A breathy chortle vibrates from his chest. “You’re terrible. And kinky.” He lowers his head just inches away from your lips, capturing your gaze. Metal slides and shrieks as plates shift, and you hear the quiet slithering before you feel tendrils wrapping around your wrists again.

“And it’s fucking sexy,” he finishes before kissing you again.

Those tendrils don’t stop at your wrists. You feel them parting the remaining fabric of your ruined leotard, wrapping around your breasts, curling around your thighs… Bucky ruts into you shamelessly now, grunting animalistically into the kiss as he spears his tongue into your mouth. You fight for dominance but relent quickly as his lips and tongue devour your very essence, tilting your head and deepening the kiss. Resting his weight on a mass of tendrils, he quickly unbuckles his belt and nearly rips the button and zipper off of his pants as he tries to free his cock. The weight of it falls solidly against your stomach, and you whimper at the heat of it against your skin.

“Mm…” you moan between kisses. “Fuck me,” you mutter against his lips.

Oh, that sound was definitely being archived in his memory for later. But you teased him to the breaking point earlier, so it’s only fair that he returns the favor.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he asks, taking himself in hand and stroking it as he nudges the tip teasingly against your clit. You frown up at him and let out a soft mewl. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“Bucky,” you keen. “Please…”

“Please what?” he taunts, rubbing the tip up and down your drooling slit. You try to buck up against him, but tentacles wrap around your hips and hold you down.

“Please!” you practically cry out. “Please fuck me!”

“Fuck, that’s a good girl.”

He lets out a triumphant huff before guiding his cock to your entrance. Slick with your juices, he slides in slowly yet easily, only giving you just long enough to accommodate to the stretch before pushing in further. Your head falls back against the table with a soft thud as a low moan drawls from your lips. He fills you perfectly. Once he starts moving in and out, you can feel every delicious draw of his length along your walls.

“Yes, fuck…” you curse as your ankles lock behind his waist. The tentacles on your hips release their grasp, instead traveling upward to wrap around your beautiful neck. You feel Bucky hesitate, but once they squeeze you gently, he can’t miss the way your pussy clenches around his cock in response. Fuck, there was no way he was going to be able to last long with you. Not if you were going to keep being this kinky, this sexy.

You angle your hips up to meet his thrusts as he increases his pace. Immediately your moans increase in pitch as he starts hitting that perfect, spongy spot inside you. His pubic bone hits your clit with every thrust, and your thighs quiver around him as you feel the pleasure building. The tendrils around your neck squeeze harder, leaving you with just enough air to remain conscious, and yet another snakes down your stomach to circle your bundle of nerves. You were in heaven, your eyes going crossed as he fucks you in earnest. He goes harder, faster, grunting as he palms your breast and pinches the nipple between his fingers.

CRACK!

That’s the only warning you have before the table snaps straight down the middle, and both of you go crashing down to the ground. It takes you both by surprise, but Bucky is too far gone to let it affect him for long. Instead, the tentacles wrapped around you lift you and reposition you until you’re on your knees. You’re thankful to still have your tights on as your knees meet rough concrete, but that’s the last sane thought you have before Bucky enters you from behind. The tendrils around your wrists lift your arms up so your back is arched against his chest as he leans over you. His arm wraps around your waist and grips tight, fucking into you like a feral animal and panting desperate growls and grunts into your ear.

Tendrils leave your neck and you gasp for air, and then they’re replaced by Bucky’s firm hand. He doesn’t choke you, instead content to feel the curve of your neck beneath his fingers as his thumb caresses your jawline. Your moans go uninhibited now, singing a song of lust and debauchery for his ears alone.

This angle has him somehow hitting your g-spot even more thoroughly, and the tentacle at your clit flicks and rubs ceaselessly. You can feel yourself getting close, and the way you spasm and clench around his cock drives him closer and closer to the edge himself. Your velvety walls suck him in like they never want him to leave, like his dick was made to be in your pussy.

“Bucky, I-I’m, I… fuck--”

“Me too, Y/N,” he concurs in a gravelly voice.

He fucks you with reckless abandon, bringing you closer, closer, closer--

“Cum for me,” he commands before taking your earlobe between his teeth.

The coil shatters, and a wordless scream leaves your jaw slack as you shudder and convulse around him. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over you in its hedonistic warmth. Bucky follows soon after, his thrusts quickening and his groans growing more and more feverish. With a few final thrusts and a guttural roar, he empties himself in your womb. He’s panting, sweating through his clothes, and the two of you collapse sideways onto the cold concrete floor as you catch your breath.

“That was…” you breathe out, not even sure what the rest of the sentence was supposed to be.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees, returning his tendrils to the safety of his metallic arm as it shifts back to its original shape. He hugs you close, spooning you and holding you gently. It was a stark contrast to the way he was pounding into you just moments ago. “Stay with me for a while?” he asks you softly.

Yeah, you were definitely going to need to heal yourself after that. But for now? This…

This is nice.

You respond to him by snuggling closer against him, resting your arms over his. You can stay like this for as long as he wants you to.

[duckymcdoorknob]

How your first sleepover with Genshin Men went

Fair warning, this is pure crack. No over-exaggerated fluff or cute stuff, just as real as sleeping beside another person can get!

Leave characters and ideas in the comments for part two !

Feat. Kaeya, Kaveh, Itto, Kazuha, and Diluc.

(Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five)

Taglist: @ticklish-n-stuff @elysianavenue @chrimsss @switch-writer @giggly-squiggily

You stared at your boyfriend lovingly as he cleaned up from the simple dinner date you had just shared. How lucky you were to have ended up with such a wonderful man like him… Lost in your own thoughts, you fail to miss the sudden pattering against the rooftop of his home.

He sighs and listens intently to the area outside before coming to a conclusion: it was way too heavily raining for you to go out there. When you blinked back to reality, you saw your lover knelt in front of you, wiping his hands with a towel.

“(Y/N), love, it’s really coming down out there… would you be okay to stay a little longer so it can calm down?”

“Hmm- what? What?-“ his words took a bit to process “I suppose…”

The rain failed to calm down, it only seemed to roar more severely. You sighed longingly as you looked out the window. You heard a gentle chuckle and felt a hand on your shoulder. “Follow me, let’s start getting ready for bed.”

You furrowed your brows. “What do you mean, follow you?”

“You’re my partner,” he answered. “There’s no way I’d ever let you sleep anywhere else than my bed.

You sighed and obeyed, completing as much of your nightly routine that you can (all while wearing pajamas that definitely aren’t yours). You settled into bed next to him, immediately being wrapped in his arms.

You settled with a smile, closing your eyes and cuddling close…

Kaeya: The Revolving Door

After a few short minutes of relaxation, you felt your boyfriend squirm beneath you. Within an instant, Kaeya had muttered something and gently slipped out of bed, carefully placing you on the fluffy mattress.

“What’s wrong, honey?” You asked, still fully alert.

“Bathroom light,” He answered as he stepped back toward the bed.

He settled back down, then after a little maneuvering, it was like he never left.

You both closed your eyes once more, attempting to rest.

Fifteen minutes later, you were about to fall completely asleep. That is, until you felt yourself being moved again.

Your lover ever so carefully moved you off of him, retreating to the restroom once more. You groaned and opened your eyes. “Kaeya?”

“I fr-go- bru-h- eef-“ the distorted response was undoubtedly from a toothbrush in his mouth.. you couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at him as you waited for him to return.

And as he had done previously, Kaeya returned to bed and settled down with a content sigh.

Perfect, now the two of you can-

“Wait,” your boyfriend groaned. “Light.”

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go.”

Finally, the light was off, and Kaeya was in bed. You curled up against his chest and sighed with a smile. “Goodnight, love, ” you hummed as you closed your eyes.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replied, kissing your forehead.

After two minutes, you felt Kaeya squirming again. Though, he didn’t move a muscle, despite the uncontrollable squirming.

“…Darling?” he asked softly.

Barbatos give you strength…

“Yes, my love?”

“I gotta pee.”

Kaveh: The Acrobat

The room was silent, albeit the gentle hum of a ceiling fan. You felt your consciousness leaving you slowly, and you were close to falling asleep…

Until you were accidentally smacked across the forehead by his hand.

While you were upset from being woken up, you couldn’t help but chuckle as you picked up his wrist to move it from your forehead. You planted a gentle kiss on the back of his hand and placed it down on your cheek.

You could’ve sworn you saw Kaveh’s lips curl upward at the gentle kiss, but it was short lived as he suddenly flipped over onto his other side.

You smacked face-down onto the mattress, barely registering what had happened. You groaned and slowly picked yourself up, rubbing your sore nose. When your eyes landed on the unmoving body of your boyfriend, you rolled your eyes and turned away from him.

You figured there was no sense in attempting to cuddle with him when he was moving so much. You closed your eyes and attempted to fall back asleep. After about five minutes, your eyes got very heavy, and you were near falling asleep.

However, sudden rustling from the other side of the bed made you alert. Before you could register what had happened, you were being pulled back into Kaveh’s arms.

You squeaked but ultimately relaxed, turning around to kiss him on his lips. You both smiled and you rested your head in the crook of his neck.

Finally the two of you were almost both asleep. You could barely keep your eyes open, and were seconds away from falling a totally asleep.

And then, it happened.

And boy did it happen suddenly.

Within seconds, you landed smack-dab on the hardwood floor, having been accidentally kicked in the back.

“AGH- KAVEH!” You yelped, rubbing your sore bottom.

Your boyfriend awoke with a start, looking around frantically. “Honey?! Where are you, what’s the matter?”

You groaned and clawed your way back on the bed, “Nothing… Nothing is the matter,” you replied curtly.

“A-Are you sure? Why were you on the f-“

“I am ten seconds away from taping your limbs to this bed, that’s why,” you spat. You sighed and fell forward onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him. “If you kick me off the bed again, I’m sleeping on the couch, capische?”

Kaveh only nodded fearfully as he kissed the top of your head.

Itto: The Loose Cannon

You sure did love your darling boyfriend. Life with him was never dull, and nights were… well, interesting to stay the least. He would always get so much more energized during the night, simply bouncing off of the walls.

Well, tonight marked your first sleepover, so he opted for eating spicy ramen with you and watching movies. Halfway through the film, your boyfriend excused himself to the restroom, proudly announcing that he had a battle to fight.

You rolled your eyes. You couldn’t help but smile at the stupid codeword.

By the time he returned, the movie was done, and you were drifting off on the couch. Your eyes flutter open as you smile at him. “Everything come out okay?” You teased.

Itto merely laughed, scooping you up. “Yeah, yeah. It’s beddy time now. Now, come on! Let this big strong oni keep you company!”

You allowed Itto to carry you to his bed, wrapping your arms around him. And that is how you ended up where you are now… caged in his giant arms as he squirms uncomfortably behind you.

“Itto…?” you asked softly. “Is everything-“

“Yeah! Yeah I’m great… just uh…” he trailed off. “Nope! I’m good!”

You sigh, back settling down against his chest, you felt him squirming still, frowning gently. Well, you had to trust your boyfriend. If he said he was okay, you had to believe that-

Your chain of thoughts was interrupted by an almost cartoony-sounding toot echoing in the room. Your eyes snap open, and you push away from your boyfriend, looking at him with disbelief. “Did you-“

“No!”

You begin to giggle. “Oh gods- okay-“ You chuckled despite the smell now filling your nose. Once it subsided, you returned to his arms with a sigh. “Feeling better now?”

Itto nodded against your head, planting a gentle kiss too. He returned to lying comfortably, his own eyes closing along with yours. The two of you are almost asleep when you hear the noise again…

“Itto!” you whined, scooting away from him. “Not again!”

“I’m sorry! It was that ramen, I swear!” The oni whined.

“Well try harder!”

“I can’t help it!”

You groaned loudly and rolled your eyes before returning to cuddle him again. You sighed, damn near falling asleep.

And yet again, that pungent smell filled your nostrils…

“Oh my gods- ITTO!” You yelped, turning away and pinching your nose. “Stoppit!”

Before he could reply, he stood up quickly from the bed, retreating to the bathroom with a hasty shut of the door.

It’s been twenty minutes… no signs of organic life from the bathroom.

You sigh and roll over.

Kazuha: The Apologist

Kazuha led you to his bedroom by your hand, gesturing for you to get comfortable. You obliged immediately, snuggling into the soft sheets. When you looked back at him, he looked sheepish. “Are you okay, dove? I can sleep on the couch if it’s too awkward-“

“No, no! I apologize… I didn’t intend to make you think something was wrong, I’m just-“ he sighed, looking away. “Do you think… would you be willing to hold onto me as I typically do you?”

You smiled at him softly, holding your arms out. Your lover smiled back at you and instantly settled down in your arms. He sighed in satisfaction as he felt your arms cage around him. As his body relaxed—and boy did it do so fast—a soft ‘oof’ left you. Kazuha immediately lifted his head. “I’m sorry, love. Did I startle you?”

You chuckled again. “No, Kaz’. Just wasn’t expecting it.” You gently rubbed soothing circles on his back, and you felt all of his worries melt away.

Things were going well. The atmosphere was quiet and peaceful. You felt yourself growing tired, but you were soon interrupted by Kazuha reaching up to itch his nose. “M’sorry,” he murmured.

“No need to apologize, my dear…” you gently kissed the top of his head.

More peaceful minutes passed until his leg randomly spasmed, causing you to startle again. “I-I’m sor-“

“Kazuha, honey,” you soothed, “it’s okay. You don’t need to keep apologizing for things you can’t control.”

“Okay, I’m so-“

You gently poked his side to state your point. He startled with a small squeak. Afterward, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, removing it from the ponytail and untangling it. He hummed in satisfaction, relaxing into your arms once more and closing his eyes.

It was a wonderful experience. Your lover finally passed out in your arms and slept for a good hour. As you eventually felt yourself growing more tired, you were startled awake when Kazuha shook violently in your arms with a gasp. He woke up panting, throwing his arms around your neck.

You sat up immediately, coddling him. Your hand returned to his back as you whispered in his ear. “It’s okay, love… I’m right here… I’m here…”

He trembled in your arms, holding you impossibly closer. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice shaking.

“Hey, hey… sweetheart it’s nothing to apologize about. I’ve got you,” you gently hummed, kissing the top of his head. “I’m right here.”

“These nightmares still plague me… I’m so sorry (Y/N)… I must’ve frightened you.”

“I’m okay, love,” you reassured him.

Kazuha hesitantly settled back in your arms, feeling utterly blissful from the gentle rubbing on his back. He slumped down against you once more, sighing gently as his breaths gently puffed against your neck.

After a while, you both were absolutely exhausted. Kazuha was the one who was still awake as you finally drifted off to sleep. He lay peacefully, listening to your heartbeat slow and slow.

As he was about to fall asleep… his tummy growled loudly, waking you immediately.

“I’m sorry…”

Diluc: The Furnace

You smiled as you felt Diluc’s strong arms cage around you. His hand immediately found refuge in your hair, gently scratching your scalp and sending chills down your spine.

He continued his actions for a while, and you seemed to in a blissful daze. Little hums of satisfaction left you as well as tiny gasps every so often. Your lover merely grinned, taking solace in knowing he was making you feel relaxed.

You were close to falling asleep when you suddenly felt extremely warm. You start gently panting as you swallow a few times.

“Love? Are you alright?” He asked you in a concerned voice, sitting up.

“Yes, of course,” you hummed in response. You reach over him onto the night stand, grabbing the water he always kept there and positively chugging it. “I think I was just a bit thirsty.”

Diluc chuckled as you lay back down. His hand found itself rubbing gentle circles on your back, the warmth traveling from your shoulders down to your hips. It was soothing, and his hand was wonderfully warm.

After a while, he got the idea to press his hand against your bare skin, having snaked it under the large shirt he had given you.

You shivered from the sudden change in temperature, but Diluc continued anyways. He looked down on you lovingly as he saw you relaxing in his hold.

Your lover let his head fall back against the pillow, and he gently closed his eyes. He was near falling asleep when he felt you peel yourself away to grab more of the water.

“(Y/N)?”

You sigh between gulps of water, almost like a toddler drinking some after being outside all day. You put the cup down with a sigh before slumping back on him. “Archons, I must just be dehydrated. Nothing more,” you quickly reassured him.

You settled back into his arms, exhaling as you felt heat engulf your body again. You narrow your eyes in confusion and annoyance.

What could be wrong?

You were watered, fed, and calm. What could possibly be-

As Diluc’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you impossibly closer, it dawned on you: Diluc ran warm.

You tried to ignore it, but the temperature continued to overwhelm you. You gently pushed away from your lover, hoping to get a second of relief from the blistering heat.

Your boyfriend opened his eyes and frowned, noticing your movements. “Darling?” His voice was laced with concerned as his palm traveled up and down your torso. “You’re drenched in sweat, is everything okay?”

You closed your eyes and exhaled. “Just peachy.”

“Are you sure?”

You sighed. “You’re very warm.”

He chuckled, allowing you to crawl out of his arms. When you settled down to his right, his left came out to interlock your pinkies.

Despite just being denied the gift of cuddling you in his arms, Diluc still insisted for you two to be touching…

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[estcaligo]

Sebek's Opinions on Popular Partner Nicknames or Why He Refuses to Call You That + What Nicknames He Would Use

*Sebek x reader *Romantic *A few slightly suggestive parts

After you and Sebek started dating, Lilia mentioned that he sent Sebek a link to a list of modern nicknames for couples. Later, you ask Sebek what he thinks of them.

What he thinks of popular nicknames

[Princess] "While I love you dearly and have sworn to serve and protect you, you are neither of noble blood nor a member of any royal family! Calling you this would only lead to unnecessary confusion!"

[Kitten] "You are a human, not an animal! Not even a beastman. Why would I call you such a thing?"

[Baby] "You are not an infant. Is this your childish attitude slipping through again? Get yourself together, human!"

[Boo] "…Pardon? Are you attempting to frighten me?"

[Sugar] "Sugar is a type of food. Are you suggesting I devour you? What? You… you do? W-Wait—"

[Honey] "You're still talking about food?! Grr… your incessant rambling has stirred my appetite! This is your fault, human! Now you're coming with me. We're going out to eat - NOW!"

[Angel] "I've read about these supernatural beings in overseas religions, but you possess no features that resemble them. You are a magicless human! Enough with this nonsense!"

[Doll] "You are a human being- a weak human, I might remind you! Dolls are lifeless and purposeless objects… If anything, you're far from lifeless. Quite the contrary - it's too lively whenever you're around!"

[Pookie] "You suggest I call you the same name my sister used for her stuffed toys? Have you no self-respect?!"

What he would call you

Sebek isn't the kind of guy to use overly sentimental terms, but if he wants to express his love and admiration, he'd choose something straightforward yet heartfelt. He loves you a lot, after all.

[My Love] Simple and elegant. Timeless classics.

[Darling] Would use in private moments, probably in an unusually quiet voice. But I think it'll also work for a daily life.

[My Dearest Heart] Would say this when overflowed with emotions. Hugging you tight after a long period of not seeing each other, or kissing goodbye.

[Beloved] This carries a note of respect, so he wouldn't hesitate to use this in public or when talking about you (later, he still needs to get used to it). Overall, calls you "beloved one" in daily life.

[Sweet Companion] He values loyalty and appreciates the fact that you've chosen to walk beside him in life, despite the challenges you'll face. He is proud to call you that, with both affection and appreciation.

[My Fair One] Read this in one of his many books and thought it suits you perfectly - to admire your grace, beauty, and strength. Unintentionally says it when he sees you in some cute outfits. Or when you're triumphing after some achievement - he (secretly) thinks you look most radiant in those moments.

[My Heart's Desire] Alongside his desire to serve Waka-sama, of course. But he means it. You're now one of his objects of admiration and dreams. He uses this when he misses you or is a little desperate for intimacy (hug him or kiss him asap!!).

[Fire of My Loins] When his passion is stirred, this one might slip out. Uses it in most intimate moments.

[ (My) Human ] Forever and always. A nostalgic reference to where it all began - when you were just his "human" in the most innocent of ways.

[itoshiidarling]

yandere x reader but darling is a loser (and maybe a touch manipulative. just a little. actually they both are, as a treat)

they profess their eternal love to you, begging you to date them, please they'll do anything, they'll make you so happy and buy you everything you want and take care of you so well !

so, obviously, you can't really say no. chances are nobody's ever going to tell you they're in love with you again (unless it's as a prank), but you're not exactly crushing on them, so you're not gonna outright accept, either.

“okay, well, if you clean my house and cook me food, i might date you.”

they're jumping at the opportunity, promising your house will never know dirt again and that they'll cook all of your favorite foods whenever you want [how exactly do they know all your favourites by heart?], but you're getting a headache and you kind of just want to go to bed already.

when you wake up, okay, yeah, maybe they do intend on keeping that promise of cleanliness... all your clothes are gone from the floor and neatly folded and hung up, your bedside table isn't a mess, your desk is clean ... and it smells strangely nice. you could've sworn it reminded you of a perfume from a year or two ago.

when they see you're awake, [what the fuck are they doing in your— oh, cleaning, right. they were sitting down, just looking at you, though...] they tell you good morning, that they've made you breakfast that's ready whenever you want it, offering to cuddle you back to sleep if you're still tired.

it's like they're living with you from that day on, always making sure you're as comfortable as possible at every moment. you're tired? please, let them carry you up the stairs and change you into some comfortable sleeping clothes [just ignore it when they stare at you like you're their universe] and put your head on their chest !

you mention a new, limited edition anime figure you realllyy want, but it's too expensive? it's just so detailed and pretty and — what do you mean the mailman just delivered it.

you're ranting about your annoying coworkers and how you wish you could just quit and not have to worry about money? oh, don't mind them while they inconspicuously log into your email to send your boss a message.... just come with them, they have a private spa appointment booked to get your mind off it, you've got the whole place to yourself ! (maybe they could bathe with you, though? just don't mind the way they press against you, they're just lightheaded, is all ! oh, but don't leave the bath, they're okay !)

you wake up late because your alarm didn't go off, but they're quick to reassure you that you don't need to worry about being on time to any job because, i mean, you don't have one! no worries, they're perfectly capable of taking care of you — if they couldn't do even that, how could they call themselves your partner? [you don't remember ever actually confirming your relationship, but at this point, you think it makes sense to assume].

you don't exactly feel great about them doing all your chores and not helping financially, now, but, on the other hand... lazing around all day, doing anything you want with an over-eager partner does sound... pretty good.

you decide to see if rewarding them works instead of actually putting in effort to building the relationship, and lo and behold... a little kiss has their efficiency increasing by a thousand percent just so they can sit on your lap and ask for another kiss, just a peck, pretty please. do you want them to buy you another figure? concert tickets? or maybe... make the reward a little better? them leading your hands to the buttons on their shirt doesn't mean anything, they swear, it's just...

maybe you would want to thank them a little more for all their hard work? ♡

[keerysfreckles]

sparks fly — LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: “drop everything now, meet me in the pouring rain. kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain” — or when y/n goes to lando's childhood home in england, after her night turned for the worst.

warnings: abusive relationship, cursing, not proofread

a/n: shoutout to pookie nat for finally getting me into taylor 🙏

masterlist !

⋆ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ୨୧ ˚

y/n knew from the moment she watched her first rom-com, she would find a love like the movies. how to lose a guy in ten days. thirteen going on thiry. ten things i hate about you. twenty seven dresses.

the list could go on. she was more than positive she'd find someone to love her the same way these fictional men loved their partners.

y/n met her first love during her spring break of her second year of uni. she could've sworn they were meant to be. they had plenty in common. they were studying the same major, both loved hockey, both wanted to study abroad someday, in paris or germany.

she thought it was perfect. until the fairy tale castle started crumbling.

during their third year of uni, y/n noticed patrick changing. he got more focused with his school work, but became more aggressive when y/n was involved.

y/n thought at first it was just the stress from exams coming up. she justified it as everyone's on edge, getting antsy for the year to be done with.

however it only fell downhill. the words of aggression turned into loud yells heard from their shard apartment at late hours. the yelling turned into patrick throwing any item he could find, which soon turned into y/n dodging almost everything patrick threw.

he hasn't hit her yet, which was possibly the only thing keeping y/n in the relationship. she really believed he could change. but as days passed, and his anger only progressed, she wasn't sure the old patrick was still inside.

sure, the man would always try to make it up to her. a million open eneded apologies could only do so much.

on the twenty third of october, that's when shit hit the fan.

"patrick please, just let me go to bed. it's late, we're both angry and not thinking right," y/n tried reasoning with him, knowing her words don't mean a thing to him.

"no, you're going to tell me what you were doing out so late."

y/n only lets out a scoff. it was the same fight almost every time she went out with friends, or simply went to the library to study. patrick never believed her.

"for the last time, i was out with jess. all we did was go shopping," y/n explains again. her own anger starts rising. she feels the bottle inside her shaking, getting ready to explode.

she stands from the couch, walking to their shared room.

"you think you can walk away from me?" patrick quickly follows, slamming the bedroom door behind him.

"what is your problem!" y/n finally shouts, "you never believe me. what do you think i'm doing? cheating on you? how can i do that when you barely let me leave this goddamn apartment?"

y/n's breath heaved. she felt a small pressure release as she finally got the courage to yell at the man standing in front of her.

"who do you think you are?"

as patrick spoke, he stepped closer to y/n. causing her to step back, eventually becoming trapped between the him and the wall.

"who gave you the right to talk to me like that?" patrick seethed, before reaching out and grabbing y/n's wrist.

his grip only tightened when she let out pained sounds, as tears started forming in her eyes.

she tried prying his hand off her wrist with her other one, "let go," she begged.

y/n started kicking. she didn't know where her feet were ending up, but was grateful patrick had started backing away from her movements.

she managed to release her wrist from his hold, and ran towards the bedroom door. grabbing anything she could before leaving the apartment, she was able to grab her phone and her shoes.

patrick tried grabbing at her again, yelling and begging for her to come back. she was still struggoing to slip her shoes on even when she got outside.

y/n swore she still heard patrick's yelling from where she stood.

once she got at least a block away, the tears couldn't help but fall. her vision became fuzzy as she kept walking. she kept tripping over he untied shoe laces, stepping in the puddles from the rain beginning to fall from her sky.

as if the rain was matching y/n's mood.

in the ten minutes she continued to mindlessly walk, y/n couldn't believe how stupid she had been. scolding herself for staying with the man who only made her the worst version of herself.

y/n kept walking, until she seemed to find herself in an all too familiar neighborhood. she couldn't even begin to count the times she's been here.

she tries ridding her tears, knowing its no use as her eyes are probably bright red and puffy.

she begins to knock on the door of the house she knows too well. as her hand leaves the wood, her mind only begins to spiral.

what are you doing? they might not even be home. this could be too much for them to handle. they won't want to see me. they can't do anything–

the sound of locks turning brought y/n back from inside her mind.

cisca stood on the other side of the door, in the warmly lit house. her heart broke at the sight of y/n drenched from the rain, her shoes barely holding onto her feet, and her shaking hands.

"oh darling," cisca starts.

"i didn't know where else to go," y/n's voice shakes as cisca lets her inside. she's gone for a moment, before coming back with a towel for the girl.

"you know you're welcome here any time," cisca brought y/n towards the living room, not caring if the couch gets wet. she can always fix it later.

"you dry off some more, i'll be back with a cup of tea," cisca rubs y/n's arm before leaving for the kitchen. the older woman's mind wanders to all the possibilities for why y/n was at their home at the late hour.

minutes pass and cisca sets the warm cup of tea in y/n's hands, instantly receiving a thank you from her.

cisca gasps slightly at the bruise already forming around y/n's wrist. "sweetheart, what happened?"

she rubs her back as y/n explains everything to the woman. from the point patrick began getting verbally violent, to the events that happened no less then half an hour ago.

cisca couldn't believe her ears. the sweet y/n she knew would never have stayed with someone like that, but cisca hardly knows her at any more. ever since she started uni she rarely comes over to her best friends childhood home.

after pulling y/n into a much needed hug, cisca began setting up the extra bedroom. while y/n stayed on the couch, finishing the cup of tea in her hands.

"hey mom, i heard noise from my room. everything okay?" lando peeks his head into the spare bedroom, instantly confused to why his mother is setting up the bed.

"y/n is out there, and she just needs to be comforted right now, okay? she's had a rough night," cisca explains as lando nods in understanding.

lando walks through the hallway towards the living room, and just like his mother, his heart sinks at the sight of y/n. she's hunched over on the couch, finally getting warmer from being out in the rain.

"i thought i heard noise out here," lando chuckles, hoping a light hearted mood might fix the atmosphere around y/n.

once their eyes meet, he knows one slightly fun comment won't make anything better. he sees her bloodshot eyes, and worried expression.

"oh, baby," the nickname slips through his lips. one he's called her many times in the past.

he kneels in front of her to wrap his arms tightly around her waist, as hers reach for his shoulders.

he didn't know how much comforting she needed, but could only guess it was a lot after she started crying against his shoulder.

he continued to hold her, rubbing his hands up and down her back. his heart started to break once she started shaking in his arms. a mixture from the crying and her body finally letting the stress and anxiety get to her.

"i should've listened to you," y/n mumbled against his shoulder.

lando doesn't respond, knowing exactly what the girl meant.

her grip loosened slightly on his shoulders, now just resting her hands there as she looks at him.

"you were right. he wasn't a good guy. you had a feeling and i should've listened to you," y/n rambles on, knowing lando's been right about patrick since the first time the two men met.

"what did he do?" lando asks, moving his hands to hers. however, his fingers brush over y/n's brusing skin. the action makes her flinch slightly, and lando's heart breaks for the second time that night.

"i shouldn't have come here," y/n states, beginning to shake her head back and forth. "i'm sorry."

"you have nothing to be sorry for, you can stay," lando tries to reason with her.

he continues to try even when he follows her back out in the rain.

"y/n! just come inside!" he runs after her, his socks getting damp from the drying puddles outside. he looks up, the rainfall definitely slowed, but y/n's hair was beginning to get wet again.

"no lando, it's fine. i'll go back there for the night. he's probably calmed down by now."

lando reaches y/n, "you can't possibly want to go back there. he hurt you. you can barely move your wrist because of the bastard."

y/n turned to see lando looking at her, his curls falling slightly from the drizzling rain.

"you can't go back there y/n."

"i've already ruined yours and your mom's night."

lando laughs, "that's the last thing you've done. you and i both know you're more than welcome to stay the night."

after minutes of silence, lando speaks up again while stepping closer to y/n.

"i want you to come inside. i want you to be comfortable and safe."

it's as if a switch went off in y/n's head. a switch she's surprised didn't go off sooner.

seeing lando like this, standing in the rain in front of her. wanting nothing more than to make sure she's protected. something patrick would never have done, during any circumstances.

he watches her eyes flick between his own and his lips.

he lets out a shuddered breath as she simply begins walking closer to him.

"y/n, you went through way too much tonight. i don't want to add to any of your stress."

y/n shakes her head, "lando i've never been more sure of anything."

lando's hands find their way to her waist as she finally steps in front of him.

"take away my pain lando, please. you're the only person who's been here for everything. you're the only one i need. i'm so stupid for not seeing it earlier. i should've never went on that stupid date. i should've listened to you, and– and if i did i would've been here so much sooner."

y/n catches her breath. her heart hammers in her chest waiting for lando's reaction.

tears begin to blur her vision once more, her emotions getting the better of her as lando doesn't respond.

"lan, please say something. you're what i want, not h–"

y/n stumbles back slightly from the impact of lando's lips pushing against hers. her hands hold onto his face, scared that if she let's go, she might just be imagining this.

"please, let me take you back in–"

now y/n cuts off lando's words, making the man laugh into the kiss. the sound and feeling sending shivers up y/n's spine.

lando breaks the kiss, but feels y/n's breath fanning over his lips.

"now can you please come back inside?"

"one more," y/n mumbles against his lips before he has the chance to reject her offer.

[wonboni]

CUPID➶ Y.JUNGWON

∝cupid is so dumb

『•˙synopsis: even after endless of hints your best friend still can’t seem to know that you like him.

『∙˙pairing: bsf! Yang jungwon x fem reader

『•˙genre: fluff,crack,best friends to lovers,a tiny bit of angst

『•˙word count: 1.3k

『•˙warnings: jungwon is clueless,reader is kinda hurt

『•˙note: jungwon is so cute in these pics

It’s a familiar kind of agony. A slow, sweet kind of pain that begins in your chest, spreads up your throat, and lodges itself in your head like an annoying song on repeat. You, of course, know exactly what’s going on. You’ve known for months, maybe longer, and yet—despite the loud, blaring signals you've been sending—you’re still stuck in this strange, frustrating limbo.

You’re in love with your best friend, Yang Jungwon. But the worst part? He’s completely and utterly clueless.

It all started innocently enough. The two of you were just two souls thrown together by fate, surviving high school with nothing but each other. Your days were spent with inside jokes, shared glances, and too many hours of studying together. But somewhere between laughing over silly memes and walking home from school, you started noticing little things. The way Jungwon smiled at you, the way his eyes lit up whenever you spoke, the way his voice always softened when he called your name.

And that was when you knew. You were in love with him.

But there was one big problem. Jungwon, your oblivious, socially dense best friend, had absolutely no idea.

At first, you tried to convince yourself that he might just be shy. Maybe he was waiting for you to make the first move. So, you dropped hints—big ones, small ones, subtle ones, and blatant ones—but it was as though you were speaking in a language he couldn’t understand.

---

It was a typical afternoon when the latest disaster occurred. You and Jungwon were sitting in your favorite spot at the local café, slouched over a pair of textbooks. You weren’t really studying, though; you were too busy focusing on the way his fingers absentmindedly tapped the table, how his messy hair framed his face perfectly, and how his lips... Oh, his lips.

You couldn’t help but stare. Maybe you could’ve sworn you were being subtle about it, but honestly, your heart was in your throat, and your stomach was doing flips.

"Hey," you said, your voice slightly wobbly. "Do you think we’d look good together?" You immediately winced at your own words. Was that too forward?

Jungwon didn’t even look up. Instead, he continued scribbling on his notebook, his brow furrowing in concentration.

“Look good together… like, as study partners?” he asked, looking so genuinely confused you almost choked on your own breath.

You blinked. Was that seriously his response? "No," you said, trying to keep your voice calm. "Like… together. As a couple."

Jungwon paused. For a moment, his eyes locked onto yours, his expression unreadable. Then, with all the seriousness of a boy trying to solve a math problem, he scratched his head.

"I don’t know. I mean, we’d probably make a pretty good team, right?" He laughed awkwardly, as if the very idea of the two of you being together was as natural as teaming up for a project.

Your heart plummeted.

"Yeah, we would," you said with a strained smile, hoping he didn’t see the hurt in your eyes.

He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

---

Later that evening, as you walked home together, you couldn’t help but feel defeated. Jungwon was humming something, happily oblivious to your inner turmoil. You wanted to scream at him, ask him why he couldn’t just *get it*, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t risk losing your friendship. Not when the thought of him in any other capacity was so far out of reach.

You were just... stuck.

“I don’t get it,” you muttered under your breath, almost too quietly for him to hear.

“What’s that?” Jungwon asked, not even turning to look at you.

You shook your head. “Never mind.”

“Come on, you can tell me,” he said with that warm smile of his, the one that always made your heart do somersaults. “You know I’m always here to listen.”

It took everything in you not to spill your feelings right then and there. You could already picture it—his confusion, his awkward silence, the way he would likely laugh it off like some joke. So, instead, you let out a bitter laugh and gave him a small, nonchalant wave.

“Just thinking about how ridiculous I am sometimes.”

“Hey, stop that.” Jungwon nudged your shoulder with his. “You’re not ridiculous.”

You stared straight ahead, not daring to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I am.”

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy, but it was painfully telling.

---

A week passed, and Jungwon’s cluelessness only grew more pronounced. In fact, you were beginning to wonder if he was living in a different dimension entirely. There was one instance where you thought for sure he would catch on.

You were walking home from school together again, and the air was getting colder. Your hands were frozen in your pockets, and you decided to try one more last-ditch effort.

“Jungwon,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “What would you do if someone confessed to you?”

He looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Like... a confession confession?”

“Yeah,” you said, playing it cool. “Like, if someone told you they liked you, what would you do?”

He scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I don’t know... depends on who it is, I guess.”

Your stomach flipped. You could feel your heartbeat rising. This was it. The moment you’d been waiting for.

You pushed yourself to ask, “What if it was... someone you really liked?”

Jungwon blinked at you, then let out a small, nervous laugh. “I’d probably ask them if they were sure, and if they were, then… I guess I’d go for it?” He gave you a confused smile. “Why do you ask?”

Your heart sank. “Oh, no reason.”

---

Finally, one evening, as the two of you sat on the couch in your living room, Netflix playing in the background but neither of you paying attention, you decided to confront it head-on. You were tired of playing this foolish game. Tired of wondering, *What if?*

“Jungwon,” you said, voice small but determined. “I have to tell you something.”

He paused the video, turning to face you with a look of concern in his eyes. “What is it?”

You bit your lip. This was it. You had to say it. You had to say the words that had been swirling in your heart for so long.

“I like you,” you whispered, hoping the weight of the confession would finally force him to see what had been right in front of him the whole time.

Jungwon blinked, his eyes widening as though he hadn’t expected this at all. Then, without skipping a beat, he smiled that ridiculous, adorable smile of his and said, “Of course you do! You’re my best friend. I like you too. We’ve been friends forever!”

You froze. “No, no, Jungwon. I mean I like *like* you. Like, in a way more than friends.”

For a moment, he stared at you, utterly dumbfounded. Then the gears in his brain started to turn. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again.

“Wait… like, *that* kind of like?” he stammered, his face now flushed pink.

You nodded, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and hope. “Yeah. That kind of like.”

Jungwon’s eyes widened further, and then—finally, after what felt like an eternity—he grinned, a mischievous glint appearing in his eyes.

“Wait, so... this whole time? When you kept dropping hints... you were serious?” He burst out laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. “I thought you were just messing with me!”

“Jungwon!” you groaned, face burning. “You’re impossible!”

But Jungwon only chuckled and scooted closer to you, his expression softening into something much more tender. “I guess I’m kind of an idiot,” he admitted, “But... I think I like you, too.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I do.” He smiled, his usual playful demeanor now replaced by something far more sincere. “Guess we’re both fools for love, huh?”

And just like that, the game was over.

And you, for the first time in what felt like forever, could finally breathe.

©️ WONBONI

[disneyprincemuke]

» disneyprincemuke's f1 masterlist

series

vettel reincarnate * female!driver -> after retiring from formula 1 at the end of the 2022 season, f1 legend sebastian vettel realised a while after the announcement that he would miss the paddock way too much. instead of taking back his announcement, he pairs up with an up-and-coming driver and gets her a seat in a race car in formula 1.

in another life * female!driver x logan sargeant -> "if not in this universe, do you think we're at least together in another?" "there has to be at least one where we're happy."

it's nice to have a friend * logan sargeant x platonic fem!driver -> it's never fun feeling like an outsider, so you'd sworn that nobody would ever feel the way you did all those years ago

i'm giving up your ghost * multiple drivers -> i’d live in these stories forever if it means being with you

fast times and fast nights * f1 grid as wags -> what do you expect when you put the grid and their partners on a reality show?

i said "i love you" * valentine's day special -> different reactions to the phrase

max verstappen

midnights -> a compilation of lonely midnights shared between you and max following your breakup

5 times -> there are five times max almost caught himself saying he loves you, and then there’s the time that he finally let you know

3 times -> you've had a crush on the racing prodigy for as long as you've known him - you had your own troubles biting back on words too.

glitter -> it’s the morning after a party, and you find yourself tangled up in bed with your boyfriend

the other woman -> everything falls into place in your mind when max fails to show up for you at the one event you desperately wanted him to be at

charles leclerc

i quit drinking -> you were never one to turn down alcohol. when you do, it causes a ruckus among your friends.

to forget you -> you avoided alcohol to forget the likes of charles, but he coped by drowning himself in the very same thing that reminded him of you

you called -> you called, so he came.

dancing with your ghost -> the ghost of your relationship lingers in your old apartment, reminding you of what's lost

george russell

sex -> it was supposed to be just sex

be mine -> your last night together ended on a bad note, and now you’re back after months to explain yourself

alex albon

love like this -> alex may be the reason your parents are separating, but he proves to you that soulmates still exist

get this right -> the thought of proposing to you is one that always comes easy to alex, but what he hadn’t expected is how difficult it is to execute it

first podiums -> it’s her first win in formula one as a female driver and her boyfriend can’t be any happier for her

logan sargeant

take my hand * prince!logan -> the princess, to inherit the throne after marriage, is having the hardest time trying to find a man to wed. until, a certain duke of somewhere comes riding in to ask for her hand

our spot -> a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

our spot, 2 -> it’s about two weeks since you last saw logan and you find him sitting all alone in the dark

oscar's girl / logan's girl -> logan never thought he would meet the girl that broke oscar’s heart

where the fun begins * frat!logan (college!mick) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

to the moon and back * dad!logan -> the misadventures of little luna sargeant

carlos sainz

one of your girls -> you’re just another name in black ink in his long list of girls, and you should know better. so why are you at his apartment in the middle of the night after weeks of radio silence?

oscar piastri

logan's girl -> oscar truly never thought he would ever see the girl that was the cause of his first ever heartbreak

mastermind -> oscar did not expect that he had to share a bed with you during his trip to visit you over his break

mick schumacher

no other shade of blue, but you -> you didn't have a favourite colour up until you met him

where the fun begins * college!mick (frat!logan) -> logan sees you wrapped around another’s arms shortly after you ghost him and he decides to wreak some havoc

invisible string -> unbeknownst to you, there was a force that was pulling you and mick together your entire lives

[reiding-writing]

AHHHHH UNSUB READERRRR such an elite concept, could I maybe request soccer calling her post transfer just to talk to her?? of maybe the team catching wind that he's been in contact with her after the case??

THE PHONE CALLS

spencer & gn!unsub!reader || 0.9k || bloodied roses event!!

WARNINGS: just morgan prying and getting absolutely nowhere with it

a/n — ik it was just a typo but calling spencer ‘soccer’ had me laughing for like five minutes thanks for making my day 😭🙏

main masterlist!! ⋆｡°✩ unsub!reader masterlist!!

Spencer had spent a lot of time on his phone recently.

An abnormally long amount of time for somebody who’s sworn off technology in favour of the more ‘traditional’ methods of doing things.

5PM. On the dot. Every single Wednesday. Rain or shine, office or case, Spencer Reid was talking to somebody over the phone.

There were a few theories floating around.

A hidden partner? Almost immediately shot down with how rigorously timed the calls were.

His mom? She had just as much of a hatred of phones as he did, and everyone knew he sent her letters every day anyway.

A doctor maybe? A therapist? A librarian from somewhere in rural Russia that had the singular print of some random piece of literature that Spencer was trying to get his hands on?

It was honestly anyone’s guess.

The fact that he was being oddly secretive about it wasn’t helping anything either.

It was like he was scared of the team finding out. What was there to be ‘scared’ of? They we’re practically family, he surely knew that they wouldn’t judge him for whatever it was, so why was he keeping everything under lock and key?

Hotch told people that they should just leave it, that he’s entitled to his privacy and doesn’t have to tell anyone anything that he doesn’t want to. But that doesn’t exactly fair too well when you’re talking to a group of people who analyse human behaviour for a living. And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

And Hotch wasn’t even following his own advice.

“That’s good, that’s great news,”

Spencer wasn’t exactly quiet either.

He’d practically barricaded himself in the break room to be able to take the call privately, but his voice was still easily heard through the glass, and it wasn’t exactly helping to dim the over-active curiosity of his teammates.

“You know what I mean, it’s progress, it shows that they’re trusting you,”

His pacing also left something to be desired, rhythmic and almost mechanical like it was a way for Spencer to blow off whatever nervous tension had built up during the course of the phone call.

“Alright, yeah, I’ll speak to you next week okay?” A small pause. “Okay, bye,”

Most of the team scrambled to make themselves look busy as Spencer pocket his phone and emerged from behind his self-imposed glass wall, but there was always one who didn’t know how to follow a crowd.

“Alright, you’ve kept your secrets long enough, who is it genius?” Morgan’s voice wasn’t accusatory as it was curious, and he gestures outwards for Spencer’s answer. One that doesn’t come.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I talk to a lot of different people,” He re-takes his seat as his desk with a small shrug, lips awkwardly pressed into a line.

“You take the same phone call every single week at the same exact time, that’s not ‘a lot’ of people pretty boy, it’s one,” Morgan leans forward in his chair, elbows on the table. “So, who is it? A girlfriend?”

“No—” Spencer shakes his head almost too quickly.

“A boyfriend?”

“No it’s not—” Spencer sighs exaggeratedly. “It’s nothing like that, it’s just an acquaintance,”

“An acquaintance you talk to every single week no matter what, even when we’re in the middle of a case,”

“I like having a fit schedule,”

Morgan shakes his head with a laugh. “Nothing about this job is ‘scheduled’ Reid, you’re telling me you only keep a schedule when it comes to this specific acquaintance of yours?” His raises his eyebrow unbelievingly, but Spencer doesn’t back down from his stance.

“They have a much stricter schedule than I do, we talk when they’re available,”

Morgan gives a small breathy laugh and a slow, almost mocking nod. “Right, sure,”

“I’m telling you the truth, I don’t know what else you want,” Spencer shrugs again, this time with a small air of exasperation.

He wasn’t technically lying. You did have a strict schedule at the facility you’d been moved to, and you used the one phone call you had a week so that you could speak to him. He wouldn’t want you to waste it by him not picking up. That wouldn’t be fair.

“Whatever you say pretty boy,” Morgan fiddles with the pen in his hand before pointing it across the bullpen in Spencer’s direction. “But rest assured, I will find out who you’re talking to, even if it means having Garcia hack into your phone records,”

Spencer hopes for both of your sakes that Morgan doesn’t find out who he’s talking to.

Although the threat of Garcia didn’t really hold any value, not that Morgan knew that. All they would find was a psychiatric institute, and for all he could’ve been speaking to absolutely anyone there, patient or staff.

So for the time being, your weekly talks remained something kept held close to his chest, something that would hopefully stay that way indefinitely.