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On The Twelfth Day Of Nickmas...
Day 12 of Juno's 12 Days Of Nickmas
The party was interesting. Bri kept making subtle jokes no one was picking up on but the four of them. Nick noticed Larray flirting with Jared on occasion, but Jared never faltered where his attention was fixated. Gifts were exchanged, food was eaten, and Tik Toks were made of the famous now-proclaimed annual Sturniolo Christmas party.
"What a fucking night." Chris stretched as the door down the stairs closed.
"I know, right." Bri smiled as she was cleaning up small amounts of trash.
"Ready for bed?" Matt came up the stairs and joined by her side.
"Mhhm." She nodded weakly. He wrapped his arm around her and led her off to his room.
"I guess she's staying the night." Jared chuckled.
"Do you want to?" Nick offered up. Jared looked at him, knowing it meant more of what they weren't openly discussing was going to happen possibly.
"Yes." Jared didn't mean to, but his voice was eager. Chris smirked to himself as he walked down the stairs.
"Goodnight! " he yelled to everyone on the first level. Jared walked into Nick's room and saw the stain left on the sheets.
"Second time I've had to change these because of you." Nick laughed as he stripped the bed.
"Second time?" Jared raised a brow. Nick froze, realizing what he just said.
"I mean... I.. It's the first." He stuttered as he continued tugging at the sheet.
"You sure about that?" Jared sauntered over and wrapped his arms around Nick the way he did earlier. Nick felt his heart stop beating.
"No." He whispered the truth.
"No?" Jared copycatted his moves from earlier by running his fingers down Nick's body.
"Last night I ..." Nick wanted to tell him to see his reaction. He turned around. "I might have watched our car video." Nick's eyes gleamed as he saw Jared's loving expression. Jared kissed Nick's forehead.
"I love that video." he rested his foreheads on Nick's. They stood there for a moment, reveling in the silence. There was a sense of comfort Nick hadn't felt in a while. He felt like he could be himself without any repercussions. He could let his guard down. "I'm glad we met." Jared broke the silence.
"Me too."
"I know you are. Otherwise, you wouldn't have texted me." Jared winked at him. Nick sat on the bed.
"Were you mad?" He made a joke back.
"Of course not." Jared crawled on top of Nick and sat on his lap. Nick felt a heat wave flow down his body. "I had a feeling we would be good friends when I first met you."
"Really?" Nick perked up at the underlying compliment.
"Of course not. You hated me."
"I didn't hate you!" Nick was appalled he would think that.
"You barely spoke to me." Jared rolled his eyes, recalling the first time they met.
"If I remember correctly, I was having a bad day." Nick tried to recall the events before Jared walked in.
"Oh. I'm sorry." Jared felt terrible for not considering Nick's day.
"It's okay. Everyone is entitled to a bad day." Nick shrugged it off. The silence settled in again, and this time, it was uncomfortable. It felt like one of them needed to say something to address their position or feelings, but neither of them had the nerve to go first. Jared sighed. "What?" Nick looked up to see Jared staring off.
"Can we just talk about it?"
"About what?" Nick played dumb.
"Us?" Jared flicked his glance down to Nick, then away again.
"You are -"
"Your best friend. I know all that. Earlier, you said we weren't just best friends." Jared called him out.
"Best friends don't exactly do what we have been doing." Nick looked down at his waist, where their bodies were connected.
"So we are more." Jared perked up and looked at him.
"Yeah." Nick liked how excited Jared looked to be more with him. His dick started growing. Even though Jared was older than him, little things like the look in his eyes made Nick want to be more in control. Jared dipped down and kissed Nick in the middle of his thoughts. Their lips were moving together for a while before Jared started creating friction on Nick. "Mhhmm." Nick moaned on Jared's lips. Nick was ready to explore with Jared. A friendship turned into lovers wasn't what he had planned the day he got Jared's numbers, but he wasn't going to complain that his actions put him here. He tugged at the bottom of Jared's shirt. Jared slipped it off with one hand. His skinny white body was exposed.
"Take them off." Jared slid off of Nick so he could unbutton his jeans. He slid them all the way off.
"Your turn?" Nick asked. Jared slipped his sweatpants all the way off. Jared started tugging at Nick's shirt, wanting to see his skin. Nick shook his head lightly and pulled Jared onto him again. Their kiss was passionate and heated. Nick loved feeling even closer to his best friend. He denied this feeling for months without realizing it was making him ache. Nick shimmied back onto the bed more so his legs were no longer hanging over. Jared took this as a chance to re-situate himself on top of Nick. Nick nodded consent for Jared to press down on his swollen tip. Jared spit in his hand and rubbed it over Nick's soft shaft. Nick groaned from the simple pleasure.
"Ready?" Jared was ready. Crossing this line with Nick meant never going back, but Jared was okay with that. He decided he wanted Nick no matter what it meant moving forward.
"Yeah," Nick said, a little breathless. He was looking at Jared on top of him and falling for him. He had seen Jared countless times shirtless, but seeing him on top of him, ready to feel the pleasure Nick could give him, was euphoric. Jared started sliding down on Nick, feeling him inside. He winced a little as Nick's girth stretched him out. "Is it okay?" Nick was worried. He had been intimate with guys before but never like this. Jared started rocking slowly, feeling the pleasure of Nick touching deep inside of him.
"Oh my God." Jared threw his head back as he started rocking faster. Nick instinctively grabbed Jared's waist and made him move deeper.
"Fuck." He bit his bottom lip.
"I want you." Jared came down and kissed him again, continuing the motion with his hips. Their kiss became sloppy and rushed. "Harder," Jared whispered on his lips. Nick started snapping his hips upwards to bounce Jared up and down on his dick. Jared slammed down hard, feeling Nick touch all the right spots. His hands held onto Nick's chest for leverage and balance.
"You fucking like that?" Nick moaned. Jared didn't answer. Instead, he grabbed Nick's hand off of his waist and set it on his own hard penis. Nick understood what he wanted and started stroking him. Nick was going strong until Jared looked down with his green eyes and smirked slightly.
"Nick." Jared moaned loudly.
"I'm cumming." Nick bit his lip and looked at their hips rubbing against each other.
"Me too." Jared felt himself slowly release on Nick's shirt. Nick pressed his hips upwards, ramming himself as far into Jared as he could fit, and let his load go. "Fuck!" Jared winced from a little bit of pain and a whole lot of pleasure.
"Ugh, Jared." Nick let his name slip off his tongue in a lustful way. Jared rested his head next to Nick's. He felt a smooth pair of lips press on the side of his face. "You okay?" Nick asked, again checking on his friend.
"Mhhmm." Jared mumbled and nodded. They lay together for a few minutes, just taking in the moment. This moment was going to change everything between them, but neither of them seemed to mind.
"Hey, " Nick said, wanting Jared's attention. Jared lifted his head, lethargic from his euphoria settling in. "Merry Christmas," Nick smiled at him.
Taglist: @trevorsgodmother @strnilolover @chrissbug333 @kirby0strombolli @abbilmao @ksturnz @marrykisskilled @thenickgirl
That's it! It's late but this is the FINALE <3
I'm sorry it was late writing Nick Smut had me intimidated
#junos 12 days of nickmas#12 days of nickmas#12 days of christmas#sturniolo triplets#nicolas sturniolo christmas#nicolas antonio sturniolo#nick christmas#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo christmas#christmas short#nicolas sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo smut
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I've let my thoughts on Spare Me Your Mercy marinade a little in my brain and I'm now ready to try and put some words to my feelings about this show.
Overall I liked the show and I had a great time watching it. I thought the overall look was great and fit the theme and genre really well. Tor and JJ did really well and the whole cast was really just great.
It was just a really great attempt at more serious BL and it could have been amazing but it just fell short in some very important places.
I don't know if it would have fixed everything but a longer run-time would have done wonders because it would have given them more time to flesh out the plot and the relationships and fix any plot holes.
I'll go into the things I think were missing and my thoughts on them below.
The Missing Connection
A big part of what was missing from the show was more time spent on the relationship between Dr. Kan and Tew because the whole plot really relies on them developing feelings for each and that being a conflict in the murder investigation.
This interview with the screenwriter Lux that @clairedaring posted does make it seem like a longer screen time wouldn't have fixed this entirely since Lux spends a lot time making excuses about why they don't have NC scenes and how that would have detracted from the plot. I think this is absolutely ridiculous because the majority of BL fans would have been entirely happy with the amount of NC scenes we got if they'd just developed the relationship better and spent the right amount of time on the relationship to fit the plot and the emotions needed to make the plot land.
I'll give them the benefit of the doubt and believe that a longer run-time would have fixed it because otherwise I don't think Lux completely understands how important the relationship development, and any NC scenes needed or hinted at to make that believable, is for the plot.
Deceiving On Screen
A big problem with Dr. Kan and Tew's relationship and it's development on screen is that they were trying to deceive each other for a large part of the series. This makes it really hard to discern as a viewer when the characters are behaving or acting a certain way because of their ulterior motives or when they're doing so because of their actual feelings.
For the characters' real feelings to really come across on screen you need scenes where the characters are expressing their feelings in a situation where they don't need to keep up the ruse. This could be them alone reflecting on or reacting to the person, or conversations with people they are close enough with that they'll share some of their real feelings.
This is something that The Heart Killers has actually done a lot better than SMYM. Like Fadel's masturbation scene or the conversations between Fadel and Bison and between Kant and Style. They desperately needed more scenes like that in SMYM because it would have made it a lot clearer what Dr. Kan and Tew were thinking and feeling when it came to their relationship, because honestly, most of the time, I wasn't sure.
The Ending
I was very worried about the ending, especially towards the end, and it did end up frustrating me, but I think it weirdly fit the show because it was realistic, when Dr. Kan and Tew's relationship hadn't really been given a proper chance to develop or deepen.
Like with their surface level relationship(?) it makes sense that Tew would still try to arrest Dr. Kan even with all the reasons Dr. Kan gave for his actions.
It also helps that I understand the ending as being a little open. Like if you ask me, we never know for sure whether Tew actually brought Dr. Kan all the way to the station or not.
No matter what though it feels like a weird message to send after the show spent so much time advocating for euthanasia, but I guess they couldn't ignore that it's still illegal ... or something.
Again if they'd just spent more time developing the relationship and maybe even allowed Tew time to digest what Dr. Kan has been doing then it would have made more sense for Tew to not arrest Dr. Kan.
Like I would have even been happy for Tew to go back to Bangkok because he didn't want to arrest Dr. Kan but he still couldn't stay, knowing what Dr. Kan and Nurse Ohn were doing.
Then they could have given us a second season of Dr. Kan and Tew separately working towards making euthanasia legal in their own ways and then their ways could have crossed again and finally they would be in a place where they could be together!!
If I had any writing skills and the time I would be writing this canon divergence fic as we speak. Anyone's welcome to give it a go though!
Euthanasia
The one thing I think the show succeeded at, was showing exactly the good that euthanasia can do when it comes to terminally ill patients which also seems to be the most important point for Lux.
It felt like a weird side note though, when Dr. Kan euthanized Boss, and I've seen some people talk about how this feels like an ableist comment from the show. I don't necessarily believe that that's the case, I mostly just think this was another place where the show suffered from having only 8 episodes.
It makes sense that Boss had to die for plot reasons but I just wish they'd commented on it.
As I talked about in my previous post I think it was a risky choice to make to euthanize a disabled person without commenting on the act, especially since there's such a large difference between euthanizing a terminally ill patient and a disabled person.
With all this being said I still don't regret spending the time I did on following along with this show and posting about it. I had a good time doing so, I just hope that we can get a similarly more serious and crime related show in the future.
And in the mean time I just hope Petrichor the series turns out better.
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odd request but… sfw pyromaniac reader x Dabi from Mha?? Idk my sister told me about it and I thought it was interesting 🤷♀️
Dabi x Pyromaniac!Gn!Reader — (headcanons and oneshot)
♡ wc ; Hcs is 492, Oneshot is 1,012. Total is 1,504.
♢ synopsis ; pyromaniac x pyromaniac, it's just about as sweet as it can get, not that much (this is Dabi we're talking about), bittersweet fluff.
♤ a/n ; nothing of note
♧ warnings ; none
Headcanons
I. To start, there would be a clear bond over fire, Dabi would find himself a bit drawn at the fact someone shares an obsession with flames, as it aligns with his own tendencies. Sucker might even find himself feeling a dark sensation or twisted camaraderie in their shared attraction.
II. You guys wouldn't always talk about fires though, not like you're gonna sit there and talk about the marveling flames swallowing everything it associates with, every time. however, these talks aren't out of the question, speaking of the shared destructive nature brings a thrill into their conversations.
llI. Despite their mutual interest in fire, Dabi would remain emotionally distant. While he might appreciate the connection, his traumatic past and the darkness of his goals would make him detached from forming a deep bond. He would only keep his partners at arm's length, emotionally speaking, not like he'd ever open up that way nonetheless.
lV. However, what he will do is encourage these inclinations if they align with his own goals of descent and vengeance. He could see their mutual love for fire as an opportunity to act together. You have fun, he enacts his ideals or lashes out at society, win-win.
V. Regardless of how well-versed you are in handling fire, if he feels that his partner's recklessness could jeopardize their safety or interfere with his own plans, he would step in to rein them back. whilst at times in a blunt and possibly harsh manner.
Vl. Despite his otherwise often complex demeanor, Dabi might show a twisted form of support or understanding, especially when his partner struggles with their own battles or frustrations related to their pyromania. He would offer encouragement in his own blunt way, perhaps reminding them of their strength or how society never understood people like them, and not to care.
Vll. It would be far from conventional affection, but it would be genuine in its own right, coming from a place of shared pain and bitterness. Sometimes his ways are hard to identify, the best method you can tell that he cares is by the way he annihilates things that hurt you or have hurt you.
Vlll. He would encourage his partner to embrace their darker side and take pride in it, pushing them to pursue their goals just as relentlessly as he does. The league is the best at doing whatever they want, and you can be sure he'll expect you to adopt the same mindset, with complete disregard for any consequences.
IX. training with you is a must, not all the time sure, but every now and again to bring a little spark. Challenging each other and pushing one another, the charge of the rushing flames coursing through you while you have to think fast on your feet. The pure addictive adrenaline that you feel, you know he wouldn't actually hurt you like that, but it's so fun.
X. Destructive fire dates are a must, he wouldn't really out loud call it a date, and if he did he'd make it sound so laid back. Those dates where all you do is indulge your urges together are the best. The sounds of laughter and swooshes of the inferno are topped off with the two colored captivating sight, such a beautiful hue your flames make together.
Oneshot
Sometimes, your boyfriend stumbles upon abandoned buildings for the League to lay low in, and other times, he finds them by chance while scouting for new recruits. Whenever the two of you want some time alone, he brings you to these places—just the two of you, talking about anything and everything.
Today, you’re walking side by side through a dark withered forest, where the path has been so worn down by countless footsteps that it seems to be sinking into the earth, with tufts of grass and dirt poking back through. The sound of your footsteps, rhythmic and steady, has a comforting familiarity.
Right now, neither of you is speaking. It’s not uncommon for moments like this—sometimes, words aren’t necessary. After all the endless conversations Dabi has with the League, silence can be a welcome relief.
As you walk, a building comes into view, growing larger as you approach. It looks more than just abandoned—practically rotting before your eyes. You wonder if it’s even safe to step inside.
“That’s not a very reassuring look, are you sure it’s okay to go in there? It looks like I won't be able to come back out again,” you ask, throwing a quick glance at him.
“I thought the same,” he replies. “But after the others went in and came out alive, I’m sure it’s fine.”
"Whatever, if I feel any nausea I'll burn it, do the same if you feel that way too."
A small smile appeared on his face, and you shared your own, you both knew deep down the place was gonna burn at the end of the night anyways. It’s just what you do—you walk, talk, hang out in the buildings, and then set it ablaze together, your flames together as one devouring what’s left.
"That reminds me, I haven’t told you about the 'recruits' I had to deal with today. Tried to bring a few in, but they didn’t make the cut,” he says with a frustrated sigh, his tone turning into a low hum. “Feels like we’re hitting a wall. Nothing but dead ends lately."
You hum in response, already familiar with their recent struggles, endless complaints about the same issues, coming from both him and the others. The frustration is starting to wear them down. As you continue walking, the entrance of the building becomes clearer, and the halfway-opened door's rust on its edges becomes more visible with each step.
"..Their loss, I'm sure they know that now, their last moments were filled with regret I bet, should've gone along." you looked off to the side.
"yeah, but they'd only agree because they're afraid, better getting a no than figuring it out ourselves they aren't the real deal. Saves time." He manages to get in front to move the door for you, a loud creak yelped from the rotten door. When you went back to look at him you felt that feeling you were looking forward to all day, wildly infatuated.
a gentle smile appeared on your face as your eyes softened, walking past him and continuing the ongoing conversation, "I suppose you're right. Anyways you get to burn people so win-win." as you entered he followed, hearing a satisfied hum from him.
Dead center of the building there was a hole, like you used a circle cookie cuter and cut the middle of the building, through the floors and all. The moonlight was vibrant tonight, gently shining its light in the gap. You stepped into the center, gazing upward, while Dabi paused just before entering the light.
"Sometimes, the fire's radiance isn't the only light I look forward to. The moons can be nice too, second to fires of course."
"..great minds think alike or whatever that stupid line is, but yeaah," Dabi replies, sounding like he's mid-stretch— "The moon's light ain't so bad itself." he huffs out the last bit.
"Sometimes, I wonder how the moon, a cold, lifeless rock, can appear more beautiful than the sun, a blazing ball of fire. Flames are mesmerizing, yet the moon's glow seems to rival the sun's brilliance. Isn't it strange how the soft light of the moon, merely a reflection of the sun, can feel so captivating? Does that make sense?"
You feel yourself run out of breath for the rest of your sentence, and you can feel the stare of judgment coming from Dabi, despite not being able to see his face in the dark.
The silence grows thicker before it shrinks once more "Okay crazy, I get what you mean." he chuckles "I wouldn't say it as poetically as you did, but your right." You can hear it in his voice that he's tired, he probably doesn't wanna think too much right now and you're definitely heading the conversation to deeper thoughts territory. So you stop and ask a simpler question instead. "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?"
"I love you too." you hear his boots step closer, finally seeing him, blaze adorning his body. His smile, a mixture of a smirk, "didn't think you'd say something so corny to tell me you care."
You can feel a slight burn of embarrassment under your face but you brush it off with a puff. "Yeah, that was stupid whatever, I should've known that's not our style."
"It never was, but I’ll give you credit for giving something new a shot—now you know it ain't right." He forms fire on the palm of his hand, raising it up to you, filling the gap between you and him. "how about we do it right? This place is dull, could use some light."
You smile, "It sure does, but I think my flame color fits it better than yours." you challenge him. "Nah, mines better." he smiles.
You read him like a book and beat him to something he's done plenty of times before during these kinds of situations. Blasting fire at the wall, holding his gaze as the flames spread through the space.
"doesn't that look—"
"Wrong? yeah."
He answers as he repeats your actions, instead of the wall he sets the ground ablaze, roughly shoving a flare to the other half of the building behind him in flames. A lot more than yours, and quicker. You smiled.
"Let's see who wins this time. Before the colors share as one."
"You won't stand a chance. But let's see you try anyways."
#mha x reader#bnha x reader#dabi x reader#touya todoroki x reader#dabi headcanons#dabi oneshot#my hero academia x reader#dabi x y/n#dabi x you#dabi todoroki x reader#gn reader#oneshot#headcanons#idk what more tags to add but yeah
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WAIT WAIT. do plants literally need love to survive???? Tesla died so quickly in part because she was neglected in her needs as a person -- did the twins only survive because Rem showed them that there was a place they COULD survive? Did Tesla's body just go "there's no place for me here" and shut down? The dependent plants only survive because people care for them and tend to their needs. Are independents the same, just with different needs?
#im having a lot of half-formed thoughts about how the plants 'know' 'how to be' a person/a part of something greater#they have a more powerful connection to symbiosis than humans do -- they KNOW they can't survive without community#humans can -- and often do -- lie to themselves that they don't need other people#but the plants KNOW that they wouldn't survive alone. and they know that humans wouldn't survive without them#the independents play a different role. they're able to see and understand humans' frequent need for self-reliance and they refute it#wait don't only the first couple tags show up in search#trigun maximum#trigun tesla#trigun#ok back to rant#independents are the mouthpiece of the plants -- their advocates#most symbiosis in nature works on a more fundamental level where such communication isn't necessary#but the humans' symbiosis with the plants operates on a higher level of consiousness#free will and sentience are essential elements of it. the humans' inventiveness and enduring will is needed for the survival of the plants#this is all just a bunch of loose post-its on the wall btw otherwise id jyst make a post about it lol#anyway thank you for your time i love yall
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We’ve talked in the past about Julia’s red shirt (in her season 1/season 4 outfit) showing her sympathy towards Carmen. What about other parts of her outfits?
First, to contrast with the red shirt peeking through her dark pantsuit, we have Julia’s ACME suit.
[ID : two cropped screenshots from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. The first one shows Julia Argent on the train in India, in her dark suit with red shirt outfit. The second one shows Julia in Rio de Janeiro, in her ACME suit. End ID]
The ACME suits, being uniforms, are all the same (the biggest difference being skirts for the women vs pants for the men), the same way the agents are asked for uniformity, conformity and following orders.
The suits have no color apart from a navy so dark it’s close to black - in fact, depending on the lighting they look almost black and white. Quite like their way of thinking.
[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. Agent Zari and Random White Agent stand on either side of a door. They are in the shadows and their uniforms look dark and desaturated. End ID]
As I noted on a previous post, at the same time Julia receives her suit and as such lets go of her red shirt, she is asked to renounce her feelings that Carmen is innocent. Season 2, where she almost exclusively wears the ACME uniform, is the one where Julia briefly doubts Carmen and struggles to reconcile following her superior’s orders with her convictions. Ultimately, when she does not manage it, she resigns (season 3) and as such goes back to her red shirt outfit. It is in that outfit that she teams up with Carmen in a substantial way in season 4.
Other agents (and, notably, agent Zari, the most featured ACME agent apart from Julia and Chase) tend to wear black gloves. In line with their behavior, this suggests keeping a distance with their environment, refusing to feel things too deeply. Julia doesn’t wear gloves, however, not even in Stockholm where the weather would definitely justify it. Despite Chief's insistance, Julia keeps paying attention to her feelings.
Then, Julia’s glasses. Her glasses in seasons 2-3 are ACME regulation eyewear : once again, they’re part of the uniform, so the same model as the other ACME agents. Big, bulky, they’re almost rectangle in shape, all sharp angles : this suggests rigidity and an absence of flexibility in ACME’s mentality. Also note the dark lenses : they symbolically obscure the vision.
[ID : a screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In Indonesia, Zari and Random White Agent stand against the sky. Their glasses' lenses are noticeably very dark. End ID]
And what about Julia’s original glasses, the ones she wears before joining ACME and those she returns to as she leaves ? They are the exact opposite of the ACME glasses : round and clear, what you need to look at the world as it is.
[ID : a cropped screenshot from the 2019 show Carmen Sandiego. In San Francisco, Julia wears her red shirt outfit with her round glasses. End ID]
#carmen sandiego 2019#julia argent#if you think i'm reading too much into this. yeah. i'm me. reading too far into tiny details is what i do#(though tbh i keep going from 'this is reaching right?' to 'this is so obvious i'm breaking down an open door' so...)#and let me tell you i'm having the time of my life#you wouldn't imagine the glee i felt thinking about this#mentally i'm lying oin my bed giggling and kicking my feet as i type this#that post wasn't lying. the most fun a girl can have is analyzing making connections seeing patterns etc#anyway with all that (see: post) in mind if i had been in charge of the show i would a. have put julia in a uniform with pants#oh my god that skirt is the ugliest thing i've seen in my life.#also i want julia to be butcher#b. maybe more importantly i would have made julia wear her uniform sliiiightly wrong#like sometimes her tie isn't well fastened. or her vest is partially unbuttoned#or like that moment in rio where she says she still believes in carmen's innocence and her glasses are low and she has to recenter them#(they sort of have that with the gloves but she's not the only agent not to wear them so it doesn't really go all the way)#idk. like she tries to fit it tries to just put her head down and work tries to get into that mold acme wants her to be in#and she's. not terrible at it. she's used to being discrete and working well#with only a quick look you think she's perfectly in line with the other agents. a closer look however tells you otherwise#and shows you how she's not quite at ease with what's asked of her and it makes her miserable#which leads to her leaving acme later#do you see my vision
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Teyvat's "Most Down Bad" Award Goes to Alhaitham for a Second Year Running
Seeing everyone making fun of Alhaitham for his "stalkerish" tendencies in this event is funny, because I feel like a lot of people missed that "Be literally everywhere Kaveh is" has been Alhaitham's MO from the day Kaveh appeared in the game.
From only grabbing his house keys after Kaveh returned from the desert (he couldn't have had both sets of keys at the end of the Archon Quest unless he went home and got Kaveh's copy) to ditching conversations to get back to his house only after Kaveh came home, to showing up without any warning or explanation in Kaveh's hangout with some ridiculous excuse about hearing his voice through noise-cancelling headphones... Refusing to offer any help in the Temple of Silence story quest other than staying in the library with Kaveh...
Since when does Alhaitham willingly cover anyone else's duties?
But this trend of "Be everywhere Kaveh is" didn't start when they were adults. It was already in place when they were still Akademiya students--and it's a trend that didn't end even when they had their fight.
Even when they weren't speaking, Alhaitham dogged Kaveh's every step through published responses to Kaveh's research articles in academic journals. He insisted on keeping a line of communication between himself and Kaveh open, even if the only way to do that was through very public ideological clashes. Pulling Kaveh's pigtails to get his attention lolol. It's implied that, for at least the few years between their fight and Kaveh moving in, this was the only communication between them--Alhaitham's refusal to allow their connection to entirely fade away. (And the fact that this is revealed in Kaveh's character stories--through his precious journal that records the moments of his life that had the most impact on him--shows just how deeply he values the fact that Alhaitham didn't give up.)
Another relevant side note: Alhaitham never asked Kaveh to give up his half of their house. Knowing half of it belonged to Kaveh, knowing that Kaveh may one day want to reclaim his part of it, knowing that it was listed as theirs, Alhaitham moved into the house and made zero effort to change its ownership. He was completely fine with living in "his and Kaveh's house." The stories suggest it was only months later (or even longer) that Kaveh even noticed he had the house, and he transferred away ownership of his portion without Alhaitham ever asking him (or even seemingly wanting him) to do so.
Please, let that sink in. Alhaitham actively left his grandmother's (presumably comfortable) house to move into "his and Kaveh's house," with no apparent explanation for why, and after doing so, he made no attempt to change that "his and Kaveh's" label. He moved into the house with no promise that Kaveh wouldn't show up on the doorstep the very next day and move in too. It almost feels like another deliberate provocation--I've moved into our house, are you going to come stop me? LBR, if Alhaitham had had his way, Kaveh would have been living there with him from Day 1...
There's also the fact that Kaveh literally can't write on a single message board anywhere in the entire nation of Sumeru without Alhaitham hunting his messages down and responding to them (which absolutely no one else does, by the way).
"NUH-UH!" "UH-HUH." "NUH-UH!"
Alhaitham's own character stories tell us explicitly that one of Alhaitham's defining character traits is "He is never where you need him to be," yet somehow...
Shot, and chaser:
Any time Kaveh is in the slightest bit of need or danger or just wants Alhaitham near, Alhaitham is "coincidentally" exactly where Kaveh needs him to be, whenever Kaveh needs him to be there.
Alhaitham didn't just "happen" to run into Kaveh in Port Ormos, an entirely different city from where he was supposed to be working. He didn't just "happen" to read the same terrible book as Kaveh when we know he otherwise would not waste a moment of his time on poorly-written literature...
He didn't just "happen" to appear when Kaveh was upset and needed a distraction in the House of Daena during Kaveh's hangout. He didn't just "happen" to be sitting around waiting when Kaveh needed answers after the Archon Quest. He didn't just "happen" to find Kaveh's academic publications and every single message board posting and respond to them at length and in public.
Which is exactly what Kaveh's mother told Kaveh he needed.
What level of down bad is "Abusing your powers as an Akademiya employee to keep tabs on your crush's library loans"? Just asking for a friend.
The only person for whom Alhaitham just "happens" to be available is Kaveh, over and over and over again--because he is very deliberately making himself a constant presence in Kaveh's life.
(Like, out of all things, I think people really underestimate the devs deliberately paralleling the romantic relationship between Kaveh's mother and father with Kaveh and Alhaitham's relationship. If you want to point to one thing that says "These two characters are intentionally queer-coded," it doesn't get any more obvious than this.)
Alhaitham, are you not embarrassed to be this transparent??? 🫣
#genshin impact#haikaveh#kavetham#alhaitham#kaveh#I wasn't even looking for half these screencaps#I was just scrolling through the content and “Oops; there's another one”#imagine thinking it's a “coincidence” to run into someone in a desert that stretches hundreds to thousands of miles#I say this in the most positive way possible#but I think Alhaitham might actually need an intervention#bro is reading PULP FICTION for a man#checking the message boards daily for updates from a dude he already lives with#skipping work to do favors for his favorite#I would say his Kaveh hyper-focus is impacting his quality of life#but Kaveh IS his quality of life so...#do you think the merchants in the market are getting savvy#when they see Alhaitham coming they're just like#“Oh Mister Alhaitham! Mister Kaveh was really admiring this painting the last time he came through--”#how many times do you think Alhaitham's brought home new foods only to never buy them again because Kaveh didn't like them?#we could end world deforestation with Alhaitham's pining alone
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Instacrush
max verstappen x reader
Content warnings: unprotected sex (p-in-v), rough sex, dirty talk, language, daddy kink, pining, flirting, possessive behavior, one bed trope,...
Word count: almost 7k
Note: I'm gonna add a smau at the end so keep reading!
My masterlist
The engagement ring on your finger suited you perfectly. It wasn’t overly large or flashy, but the single diamond gave off a subtle, delicate sparkle. It was beautiful and felt just right, symbolizing the love and unity of marriage. When you looked at it in the light, you almost thought you could feel the love Max had for you.
If only that were true.
“Remind me again why we’re doing this?” you asked, sitting down at the table across from Max.
“So we can practice and make sure we seem like a real couple,” he replied.
You sighed, your gaze once again drifting around the hotel room. There was a small sitting area, a dining space connected to a kitchenette, one bathroom, and a bedroom. You had already pointed out the single bed, and Max, ever the professional, reminded you that part of the assignment meant you were expected to share it. After all, this was a couple’s retreat. It wouldn’t have been a problem—if only you didn’t have a crush on him.
If only it were that simple.
You were completely enamoured with Max Verstappen, the handsome three-time F1 World Champion. Instacrush wasn't something you experienced often, so he took you by surprise. It was the first time you met him on your first day at work. You were so caught up looking around the paddock, so excited for your first time ever set foot in the land of speed. You were just an intern working in the social media department. Landing a job during the global economic recession was a dream come true for you, not to mention, working for such a big and top-tier team like Red Bull. And that’s where you bumped into him, his can of Red Bull splashed all over your new team uniform. And honestly, you didn’t remember much since you were busy looking staring at his eyes. The bluest eyes you have ever seen. It was like the water in the ocean in Maldives that you once saw in some travel magazines. It was pathetic to fall for him so hard and quickly. It had to be some sort of karma or divine intervention that you were with him in a hotel room.
Just the two of you.
“You know,” he began, wetting his lips as he leaned back in his chair. You blinked, only because you didn't want him to call you out on staring. “You don't have to look so miserable to be here. Is my company that terrible?”
“What? No. Max, you aren't a terrible company,” you promised, slumping a bit in your chair. The last thing you wanted to do was upset him. “Just been a bit since I've been in a relationship and I’m kind of rusty,” you said.
“I’m just not sure I’m the right one for this job,” you added.
“You’re perfect for this job. Why would you think otherwise?”
You froze like a deer in headlights, even as his compliment warmed your heart. It meant a lot that he thought you would do the job well. But how were you supposed to answer that question? That you adored him and it would be torture to pretend to be with him for a few months just to back to being coworkers after?
“We should practice,” you suggested instead of giving him an answer. The backstory wasn't overly elaborate, but you had to get it right.
He leaned forward, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Did someone say something to make you think you wouldn't be good for this assignment?” He asked in a low voice. “Because I'll straighten them out.”
You bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from whimpering. The thought of him putting someone in their place to make you feel better was swoon-worthy. “No, Max. No one said anything. You're right. I’m good for this,” you said before you added, “We’re good together.”
You couldn't read the look he gave you and it became more difficult not to squirm under his gaze. “Yeah,” he whispered, leaning back and clearing his throat. “So. We’re engaged. Going to a resort for a much-needed vacation. We’ll have to mingle with some of the guests in between investigating the owner. One of the first questions will be how we met.”
With an exhale, you recited, “We met at the track. Both slammed into each other. Both said sorry at the same time”
“And you gave me your hands for me to get up,” you smiled, making a show out of reaching for the glass on the table. “Our fingers touched first. Our eyes met second.”
“And we immediately befriended at first,” he smiled.
Your heart swelled. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world when he smiled like that. “We did,” you said, trying to blink the longing from your eyes. “We went on that reserved dinner with the team and talked a bit about ourselves.”
It was all the truth, except for the fact that you guys were never more than friends since he was with Kelly, and you. Well, you were just you, there’s nothing really special about you for him to like. You aren’t those supermodels he used to date, nor have the skinniest body type, you are chubbier, with red hair and freckles across your cheeks. Before accepting his request to be in a PR relationship with him just so he gets along with the image of not being a notorious playboy who drives a fast car as an occupation, you did ask him WHY YOU? WHY NOT SOME OTHER GIRLS? AND LET’S BE HONEST ANY OTHER GIRLS WHO ARE PRETTIER WOULD DIE TO FILL IN THE JOB, SO WHY YOU? He just stood there looking at you once again with the deepest set of blue eyes that made your knees go weak, We are friends so this is what a friend should do, right? Help each other out. And y/n I really need your helping hands now.
“Even proposed to you at the same restaurant,” he said, gesturing to your left hand. “But I actually got the ring after our first date because I knew I wanted you to be my girl,” he said with such conviction that you found it hard to breathe.
The way his eyes softened as he gazed at you, you found yourself believing him for a moment. You had to stay rooted in realism though. The point of the mission besides the actual mission was to act as if you two were crazy about each other.
Not that you had to do any acting on your part.
You cleared your throat and pulled your hand back from the glass. “If only that were true,” you said, absentmindedly twisting the ring around your finger. You weren't cynical about love, but this whole thing was a reminder that you were single and alone.
The silence between you two was deafening, filled only by the sound of your own heart breaking. You longed for his words to be true, for him to truly want you as his girlfriend. But deep down, you knew it was all pretend. Your fingers fidgeted with the ring again, a constant reminder of the lie you were living. The weight of the situation was almost unbearable.
His brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
Heat crept up your neck. You shouldn't have said anything. “I mean, what a briliant story you have in mind,” you replied to avoid saying you wanted to be his girl.
“Well, it was true, y/n.”
You pulled yourself from your thoughts when he said your name, which sounded like it melted on his tongue. It made you press your thighs together. You needed to stay professional.
“Most of it only, Max. Anyway, enough of that. Let’s move on,”
Max looked unsatisfied with your response, his blue eyes searching your face. He could tell you were deflecting, which was both attractive and frustrating. “Okay then. How about we move on to the next part of our relationship? The first date.” He leaned back in his chair and you mimicked his movement.
“Ah, our first date,” you said, the memory bringing a smile to your face. “It was a classic dinner-and-a-movie type date, right?”
Max chuckled at your summation of your first date. “Yeah, it was pretty basic, but it was our first date,” he said, his voice low. “I wanted to keep things simple and focus on just the two of us. No fancy restaurants or anything like that.”
You recalled how nervous you were leading up to the date, spending hours trying to figure out what to wear and worrying about what to say. In hindsight, you didn’t need to have been so worried.
“But you looked beautiful that night,” Max continued, a small smile playing on his lips. “You always do.”
You tried to ignore the way your heart quickened at his compliment. How was it that Max Verstappen, F1 World Champion, and certified heartthrob, could say something so casually that made you feel like the most beautiful woman alive?
“Thanks, Max,” you said, your cheeks starting to heat up. You twisted the ring on your finger, your nervous habit making its appearance. “You looked pretty good yourself, if I remember correctly.”
Max chuckled softly, his eyes fixated on your hand. “Are you nervous, Schatje?” he teased, a playful sparkle in his blue eyes. “You’re fiddling with your ring again.”
Your cheeks flushed even more. You should be used to his teasing by now, especially after the time you two had spent together recently while preparing for this PR mission. And yet, every time he called you darling, your heart would do somersaults in your chest.
“No, I’m not,” you denied, knowing how unconvincing you sounded. “Just… practicing my part, you know. For the acting thing.”
Max’s eyes darkened slightly as he leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming on the armrest. He knew that you were avoiding something, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he nodded in agreement. “Yeah, let’s keep going.”
He began to recite the next bit of their cover story. “What’s our favorite couple activity?”
You cleared your throat, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the mention of couple activity. "Well," you began, your voice shaky, "our favorite couple activity is definitely cooking together. It's a great way for us to bond and spend quality time together."
“Well it must be you will be the chef and I’m your assistant then, since I couldn’t even boil an egg to save my life, Liefje.”
Max's self-deprecating comment took you a little by surprise. You were used to seeing him as the confident, world-class athlete on the track, not as a hopeless cook in the kitchen.
You chuckled softly at his admission. "Well, I guess you'll have to stick to being my sous-chef then. I can teach you a thing or two in the kitchen."
Max groaned exaggeratedly. "I suppose I'll have to stick to fetching the ingredients and looking pretty," he joked.
You rolled your eyes playfully at his remark, unable to stop yourself from smiling. "Yes, you can be the pretty one, Max. I'll do all the hard work in the kitchen."
He chuckled, a lopsided smile pulling at his lips. "Well, I guess I should be thankful that I have a gorgeous girl doing all the cooking for me, then."
His compliment left you feeling warm and tingly, but you tried to brush it off and stay focused on the task at hand.
"But you have to promise me one thing, Max," you insisted, trying to maintain your composure. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for your condition. "What's that, Schatje?" he asked, his voice low and smooth.
You leaned forward a bit, your eyes meeting his. "You have to be my personal taste tester. Gotta make sure everything is just right."
Max chuckled at your condition, a smirk playing at his lips. "Ah, so I'm not only your sous-chef, but I also get the privilege of being your taste-tester?" he teased.
You nodded, a sly smile of your own on your lips. "That's right. You'll be my human guinea pig. No complaining, just eating." Max groaned dramatically, pretending to look disappointed.
Despite his initial reluctance, Max couldn't help but smile at your cheeky request. "Okay, okay, I'll be your taste-tester on one condition," he countered.
Your curiosity piqued, you asked, "And what's that?"
Max leaned forward, his eyes meeting yours, "You have to give me one of your special desserts afterward."
You laughed, surprised at his audacity. "Oh, now you're pushing it, Verstappen," you quipped. "But I suppose I can throw in a dessert for you, as a token of my appreciation for your taste-testing services."
Max leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smile on his face. "Deal," he said, a playful grin on his face. "Let's hope your cooking skills are as good as your baking, Liefje."
“Why don't you have a boyfriend?” He asked suddenly.
The switch in topic jarred you. “That’s. I’m. What? How is that relevant?”
It wasn't smooth, but it was better than blurting out that your hopeless crush on him was one of the major factors.
“I’m curious,” he shrugged.
You swallowed hard, unsure of how to answer. Truth be told, your life was dominated by work, leaving little time for relationships. But if you explained that to Max, he'd probably just call you a workaholic and laugh. He was the epitome of work hard, play just as hard.
"I don't know," you finally said, trying to sound casual. "I guess I just haven't found the right person."
Max scrutinized you but didn't press the topic further. Instead, he took a sip of his water, his eyes never leaving your face. Max wasn't buying your nonchalant attitude. He leaned back in his chair, still watching you closely. "I don't believe you. You're a beautiful woman, and yet you're single."
The compliment caught you off guard. Coming from Max Verstappen, the three-time FIA Formula One World Champion, it was a lot to take in. Trying to keep your cool, you retorted, "You don't have to flatter me, Max. I know I'm not some supermodel or something."
Max's lips curled up into a sly smile. He leaned even closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Who said anything about comparing you to a supermodel?" he teased.
You felt your heart skip a beat at his proximity. He was even more attractive up close, with his sharp features and those intense blue eyes. Despite your best attempts to keep your cool, you found yourself blushing again.
"Come on, Schatje," Max said, his voice dropping an octave. "Just tell me why you don't have a boyfriend."
The intensity in Max's eyes was almost overwhelming. You fidgeted nervously in your seat, feeling increasingly flustered under his gaze. Why was he so insistent on this topic? You tried to come up with a witty retort, a clever way to deflect, but your mind was drawing a blank. His intense gaze made it hard to think straight. "It's not a big deal, Max," you finally managed to say, your voice betraying your growing nervousness.
"Bullshit." He leaned back in his chair, studying you once again. "You're avoiding the question. There must be a reason why you don't have a boyfriend."
Max's persistence made you feel inexplicably flustered. He was so adamant about knowing the reason behind your single status. You wracked your brain, trying to come up with a convincing answer that wouldn't give away your secret. But the more you fidgeted and avoided his gaze, the more he seemed to be onto you. "Come on, y/n,” he coaxed again, leaning forward and bracing his elbows on his legs. "Just give me a straight answer."
Max's smirk widened as he saw the effect he was having on you. He could tell he was making you nervous, and that only made him more determined to get the answer he wanted. "You're making this even more suspicious, you know," he said, his voice laced with gentle mockery. "The more you avoid the question, the more interested I become."
There was something about the way Max said that that sent a shiver down your spine. Was he just teasing you, or was there a hint of genuine interest in his voice? It was hard to tell. "You're relentless, you know that?" you mumbled, trying to cover your nerves with sarcasm.
Max chuckled, clearly enjoying how much he was getting under your skin. "I can be very persistent when I want something."
Max's admission sent a flutter through your stomach. He was relentless in his pursuit of an answer, and it was both frustrating and exhilarating. You fidgeted in your seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. "And you always get what you want, don't you?" you retorted, aiming for a tone of sarcasm.
Max chuckled at your attempt at sarcasm. He seemed unfazed as he leaned back in his chair, his gaze still fixated on you. "I do, usually," he agreed. "But you're proving to be quite the challenge, y/n."
He took in your flushed cheeks and shifting eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.
Max's gaze seemed to pierce through you, reading your every reaction. "You're blushing like a schoolgirl, Schatje," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
His observant nature was both impressive and irritating. You tried to compose yourself, to appear unfazed by his words. But the more he teased, the more flustered you became.
The sound of your phone ringing snapped you both out of whatever spell you two were under. “Shit,” you muttered, “It’s Christian. I better-”
“Yeah, you should answer that,” he said, “I think I'm going to call it a night. It was simply lovely to have such a conversation with you, Lief”
You watched as Max stood from the table, a smirk still tugging at his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. The way his shirt pulled tight against his muscles didn’t escape your notice, but you quickly turned your focus to your phone. Christian’s name flashed on the screen, a reminder that despite the playful teasing and lingering tension, you were still on assignment.
Clearing your throat, you answered the call, doing your best to sound professional. “Hey, Christian. What’s up?”
Max lingered by the doorway to the bedroom, his blue eyes still watching you as he leaned casually against the frame. The man was frustratingly calm and composed, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several minutes flustering you beyond belief.
“Just checking in. Wanted to make sure everything’s running smoothly with you and Max,” Christian’s voice came through the speaker.
“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you replied, glancing at Max again. He raised an eyebrow, clearly hearing the conversation. “We’re just going over the cover story. Making sure we’re on the same page for tomorrow.”
“Good, good. Remember, we need you two to look convincing as a couple. This retreat is high-profile, and we can’t afford any slip-ups. Play the part, but don’t overdo it,” Christian said.
You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “Got it. We’ll be convincing.”
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set your phone down, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. Max was still standing in the doorway, his gaze soft but unreadable.
“You okay?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost concerned.
“Yeah,” you replied, though your heart still raced from the earlier tension. “Just… trying to make sure I don’t mess this up.”
Max pushed himself off the doorframe and took a few steps closer to you. “You won’t. You’re doing great, Schatje. Better than I expected, actually.”
The compliment caught you off guard, and for a moment, you let yourself believe that maybe—just maybe—there was more behind his words than simple encouragement. But you couldn’t afford to let your hopes get the better of you. This was a job. Nothing more.
“Well, I guess I should get some sleep too,” you said, standing up from the table. “Big day tomorrow.” Max nodded, his eyes flicking briefly to the bed in the other room. “Right. About the bed…”
You froze, realizing that you had been so caught up in the conversation earlier that you hadn’t given the sleeping arrangement much thought. But now, with the two of you standing there in a hotel room alone, the reality of sharing a bed with Max Verstappen hit you like a freight train.
“I can take the couch,” he offered quickly, sensing your hesitation.
“No, Max. It’s fine. We’re supposed to be a couple, right? Couples share beds.” You tried to sound confident, but your voice wavered slightly.
Max’s lips quirked into a small smile. “True. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, summoning what little courage you had left. “I’ll be fine. It’s just sleeping. No big deal.”
Max didn’t argue, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something unreadable. He gestured towards the bedroom. “Ladies first.”
You swallowed hard and walked towards the bed, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Max followed close behind, and as you both climbed into the bed, the space between you felt like an ocean. You were hyper-aware of every movement, every breath.
Max lay on his back, one arm resting behind his head, while you kept to your side, facing away from him. The silence was thick, the air filled with unspoken thoughts.
“Goodnight, y/n,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Goodnight, Max,” you replied, your voice tight with nerves.
You squeezed your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall asleep. But the warmth of Max’s body next to you, the steady rhythm of his breathing—it was all too distracting. You tried to push the thoughts away, reminding yourself that this was all pretend. That Max Verstappen didn’t see you as anything more than a colleague helping him out.
But as the minutes ticked by, sleep continued to evade you, and you couldn’t help but wonder—what if?
What if this wasn’t just pretend? What if Max felt the same pull, the same unspoken connection that you did? What if, somewhere in the midst of this fake relationship, something real was beginning to bloom?
You shook your head at the thought, frustrated with yourself for even entertaining such a ridiculous idea. Max was a superstar, a world champion, and you were just… you.
But as you lay there, feeling the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you, it was hard to ignore the tiny spark of hope flickering in your chest.
Maybe—just maybe—there was more to this story than either of you realized.
You shifted slightly in bed, careful not to disturb Max, who was still lying quietly beside you. You glanced over at him, only to find that his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly, turning his head to look at you.
You shook your head, suddenly feeling vulnerable under his gaze. "Too much on my mind, I guess."
Max smiled faintly. "Same here."
There was a brief silence between you, and in the quiet of the night, it felt like the weight of unspoken words was suffocating. You wanted to ask him if this was all just a game to him, if he felt the same tension you did, but you were too afraid of the answer.
Instead, you settled for something safer. "Do you ever get tired of it? The pressure, the constant spotlight?"
Max turned his head fully towards you, his expression thoughtful. "Sometimes. It’s part of the job, though. I’ve learned to live with it. But yeah, there are days when it gets overwhelming."
You nodded, understanding the weight of his words. "I get that. It’s hard to find balance when the whole world is watching."
Max's eyes softened, and for a moment, it felt like the walls between you two were crumbling. "Yeah. But it’s not all bad, you know? There are people who make it easier."
You looked at him, your heart fluttering at the implication of his words. Was he talking about you? Or was this just part of his charm?
Before you could respond, Max shifted closer, closing the small gap between you. His proximity made your heart race, and you held your breath as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from your face.
"You make it easier, y/n," he whispered, his voice low and sincere.
Your heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. There was no more pretending, no more acting for the sake of the mission. It was just the two of you, lying in the dark, and suddenly, it felt like everything you had been holding back was on the verge of spilling over.
"Max," you whispered, your voice trembling as you struggled to find the right words.
But before you could say anything more, Max leaned in, his lips brushing softly against yours. You imagined Max kissing you before, but didn’t think it would ever be so soft. His lips barely brushed against yours, but it felt like the beginning of something more. It tempted you like nothing else ever had. He must’ve felt it, too, since he deepened it. You melted. You surrendered. You never really stood a chance before him.
“So, you like me? Was that why you kissed me, or, ” You asked when he pulled back a little to gaze at you. “I’m sorry. I just need to hear you say it because I really like you and have for months. Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that because we have a whole acting and pretending thing ahead and now you know and I don't want it to be weird.”
Your mind almost shut down when he gave you a full-blown smile and said, “Yeah, I like you. I thought it was obvious. I tried dropping little hints, talking about your smile and teasing you.” He said. “You know Kelly dumped me because I remembered your coffee order when we were at the hospitality not hers,”
You stared at Max in shock, your heart thudding loudly in your chest. Kelly dumped him over... you?
"You remembered my coffee order?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max chuckled softly, his thumb gently brushing over your cheek as he held your gaze. "Yeah," he replied. "Every single time. It wasn't something I planned to memorize, but I guess I couldn't help it. You’ve always been in the back of my mind, even when I didn’t realize it." You blinked, overwhelmed by the sudden flood of emotions. All the late-night conversations, the teasing, the moments when his touch lingered a little longer than necessary—it all clicked into place. He wasn’t just playing a part. He liked you. Max liked you.
"You really are an idiot," you said with a breathy laugh, feeling lighter than you had in weeks. The tension between you two, the unspoken feelings, had been weighing on you for so long, but now everything felt so clear.
Max grinned, his face inches from yours. "Takes one to know one," he teased, his lips brushing against yours again.
You leaned into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. This time it wasn’t tentative or cautious. It was everything you had been holding back, all the feelings you had suppressed because you thought it was just part of the job, part of the act.
But this was real. You were real.
When you finally pulled back, you were both breathless. Max’s forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your hands.
"Guess we’re going to have to make this mission even more believable now, huh?" Max murmured, his voice filled with that same teasing warmth.
You smiled, biting your lip as you looked up at him. "We might have to practice a little more, just to make sure we’re convincing enough."
Max laughed, a sound that sent warmth coursing through your veins. "I think we can manage that."
A moment passed before you giggled, happiness blooming in your chest. Max Verstappen liked you. Wanted you. “Please do,” you breathed, pulling him back down for another kiss.
He groaned, ravaging your mouth as he moved on top of you. His knee pushed your legs apart so he could settle between them, swallowing down your whimpers when he pressed his growing hardness against your pussy. He ground his hips, your panties soaked as his tongue tangled with yours. The man kissed you like he had something to prove.
Like he wanted to own you.
His muscles rippled as he leaned up and grasped the bottom of your nightie. The vision of him above you like this was now engraved in your mind. “If you want me to stop, I will.”
Sleeping with him was moving fast considering you just confessed your feelings for each other, but you didn't care. “Don't stop,” you whispered, quivering as he tugged the fabric over your head.
Your hands moved up to cover your chest before he gripped your wrists. “Are you trying to hide from me?” He questioned, his smirk playful in comparison to the uncertainty in his gaze.
You didn't want him doubting himself or your want for him for a second.
“Maybe? I mean, look at you and look at…”
You wouldn't knock on your looks since you were generally confident in your appearance, but the driver was an entirely different level of gorgeous. “Don't,” he whispered, releasing a wrist so he could cup your breast. You arched your back and any uncertainty in his eyes before faded when a moan escaped your lips. “You're so fucking beautiful.”
The praise almost made your eyes water as he brought his head down, losing focus when he swept his tongue across your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as he did it again, a wave from a sea of ecstasy crashing over you. Your heart thudded faster, addicted to the feel of his sinful mouth, suckling gently as his hands continued to explore. You writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his hair to pull him closer. "Please,"
He chuckled, the vibration making your breast hum in his mouth. "Please what, baby?" He asked, his free hand moving to your other breast, pinching the nipple gently. You whimpered, your hips bucking against the floor. "Please touch me, please kiss me, please fuck me,"
“You are such a needy baby,”
"His hands slid down your sides, gripping your thighs and spreading them apart. He settled between them, his breath hot against your core. "You want me to touch you here?" He asked, his fingers gently caressing your folds through your underwear."
“You’re the reason I don't have a boyfriend,” you whined, your fingers twisting in his hair. Why did you say that?
He paused, lifting his head to look at you with a mix of confusion and realization. "Because of me?" He asked softly. "Because I'm always around, and no one else can compare?" He slid a finger underneath the fabric, touching you for the first time.
His finger traced your slit, gathering your wetness before pushing inside gently. You let out a sigh of relief, your hips tilting to meet his finger. "Is that it? Is that why you don't have a boyfriend?" He asked, curling his finger inside you, rubbing your g-spot.
“Y-yes… It's you, has always been you, Max.” you gasped.
He added another finger, pumping in and out of you slowly. His voice was low, filled with a dominance you'd never heard from him before. "So, every time you went on a date, every time they kissed you, it was me you thought of?”
His fingers moved faster, curling and rubbing against your g-spot. "And every time they tried to touch you, hold your hand, it was my hand you wished was there instead?" He asked, his thumb rubbing your clit in circles. "Is that it, baby?”
But what can you say more besides moaning at his touch.
He grinned wolfishly, his eyes locked onto yours. "You can't speak because you're so turned on, thinking about me instead of them. Isn't that right?" His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, his thumb pressing circles onto your swollen nub. "Say it.”
But you’re not thinking straight. You’re not thinking straight at all when all he did was teasing you like that.
He growled, his face hovering over your core. "Say it, or I'll stop." His fingers paused, buried deep inside you. You squirmed, your hips bucking, silently begging him to continue. "Say it," he repeated, his voice low and dangerous.
“Max” you breathed, clenching your legs together.
He tsked disapprovingly, prying your legs apart with his broad shoulders. "Not until you say what I want to hear." His golden eyes bore into yours, filled with desire and determination. "Say, 'Only you, Max. Only you.'" His fingers remained motionless.
“Jus’ need you. Need you to make it better. ‘M yours Daddy, only yours.”
His expression softened, and he rewarded you by moving his fingers again, crooking them inside you. "Good girl," he praised, his voice gentle. "Now, wrap your legs around my shoulders. I'm going to make you come with my mouth.”
You eagerly wrapped your legs around his shoulders, locking your ankles behind his neck. He lowered his face between your thighs, his breath hot against your wet flesh. "You're so ready for me, baby," he murmured, his thumbs spreading you open. "So swollen and needy.”
And without further teasing, he pressed his lips to your clit and sucked. Hard. His fingers curled inside you again, hitting that perfect spot. You gasped, your back arching off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. "Oh god oh god oh god,"
Max smiled around the soft pearl in his mouth and flicked it gently with the tip of his tongue. "Feel good, baby?" he breathed. His head tilted up to you, and he could see you were struggling just to breathe, face painted with a medley of emotions. You didn't know if you could, or should, be feeling this good from a man so evil. Max flattened his tongue and licked a long stripe up your pussy to ensure that you would. Then he posed the question again, smirking. "You like my tongue on this wet, needy cunt?" His words were so damn obscene, but you nodded anyway. Feeling small and powerless beneath those big, broad hands as they pinned you back on the sheets and spread you even wider for the taking.
He loved how innocent and lewd you looked at once, wincing with pleasure and still trying to keep your composure like you thought a good girl should.
And, just as your breaths were starting to hitch and grow more ragged in your chest, he pushed two fingers inside.
The act surprised your lover almost as much as it did you-not quite, but almost -upon feeling how tight you were, how resistant to even two digits you seemed to be. He hardly knew whether to shove them deeper or pull them out, so fast did your muscles contract around him. When you whined a loud, protracted, 'FUCK!' he figured he would stick with the former. He grinned, having never heard you speak, much less swear, out of pleasure like this. Your head lolled back and your body made an arch when his fingers curled inside you. You were panting, moaning, coating his hand with your juices, and Max knew you were close. He started pumping his fingers in and out while his tongue worked your clit, chin practically doused in your arousal by now. A swell of pride rose within him: he could finally bring you home to that sweet release, have you a shaking, soaking mess above his face like you were wholly his and no one else's. He moved his tongue even faster and sank his fingers straight down to the knuckle.
"Come on my face, Liefde. Show me what a good girl you are.”
And suddenly you were coming undone all over him—crying his name, clawing his skin, squeezing your legs so tight around his head you feared you might snap it in two.
He slowly licked you clean, his gaze never leaving yours. "You taste even better than you look," he murmured, a slow smirk spreading across his face. He leaned in close, pressing his forehead to yours. "And you look... like a masterpiece.
You took his face in closer and sucked your arousal off his tongue. Took him by surprise and dragged a mindless, lazy, half-crazed and careless tongue all over his, where your juices had no doubt collected too. That slutty, fucked-out look you gave him—like your brain had all but fallen out of your head with the orgasm he’d given you—was everything Max could’ve wanted.
Max's eyes widened in surprise as you sucked his face clean, his hands instinctively coming up to hold your head in place. He groaned into your mouth, his own arousal spiking at the filthy, careless way you were using your tongue.
He deepened the kiss, his tongue plunging into your mouth to explore and taste every inch of it. His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer against him, letting you feel the hard length of his cock pressed up against you.
“I need to fuck you now,” he said.
His voice was rough with desire, his patience worn thin. He reached between your legs, grabbing your thigh and tossing your leg over his shoulder. He positioned himself at your entrance, the head of his cock pressing against your soaked folds. "Hold on, Schatje,"
He slammed into you with no warning, burying his cock deep inside your pussy in one brutal thrust. You cried out in surprise and pleasure, your walls clenching around him as he fills you completely. He grabbed your other thigh, holding you in place as he started pounding into you with ruthless intensity.
“Feel a little stretch down there, huh?”
You didn’t have to say anything, just whimpering in time. Max kissed your forehead and let you fold into him as his dick wreaked havoc down below. He kissed you again, and again, and in between kisses, mumbled,
“That’s daddy’s sweet, needy little slut.”
“My perfect fucking Schatje, so good at taking my cock.”
Every syllable spoken aloud was like a brand new catalyst for your impending release. You barely nodded your head, opened your mouth and whined pathetically, but that’s exactly how Max wanted you.
"Shit, you were made for this, weren't you baby? Made to take my load." He's so lost in the way you whine, telling him he's right and he knows it when he feels the way your body clenches and flutters around him.
He pistons his hips, fucking you with abandon, his balls slapping against your ass with each brutal thrust. He reaches up to grab your breast, squeezing it roughly as he snarls in your ear. "Gonna fill this fucking pussy up with my cum, mark you as mine.”
His grip on your thighs tightened as he continued to pound into you, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh filling the room. "Not till I say so, baby. You gonna wait for me, aren't you?" He grunted, his own release barreling down on him.
“Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open.
“I'm Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Max practically growls, not missing a beat while still thrusting in you.
He grunted approvingly at your desperate pleas, his face contorting with effort as he held back his own release. "Not... till... I... say... so..." He punctuated each word with a powerful thrust, his voice harsh with command. "Look at me, baby. Look at me when you beg."
You preened, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length. “Please, daddy.”
“Jesus, you’re making me so wet. You’re such a little whore for me.”
“I’m your whore. Always, daddy, please!”
His face contorted with pleasure as you finally gave him what he wanted. "Good girl," he hissed, his pace becoming frenzied as he finally let himself go. "You're gonna take it all, aren't you? Gonna take every last drop?"
“Yes!!” You sob, biting down onto his shoulder to keep your cries down while he continues to fuck you into oblivion. You don't understand how such filth can spew from that pink, pouty little mouth of his. "Please-please-need-you-daddy-I'm gonna-"
“ I’m 'yours sweet girl, all yours, go on, cum for me love, cum on my cock, it's all yours" He gazed into your eyes, cooing at your parted lips and sweat slicked skin. It didn't take long for you to shatter around him his lips smashing against yours to swallow your moans.
"Want your cum daddy" You beg , desperate to have him claim you from the inside.
"Oh fuck baby, y-you can't say that, gonna, oh fuckkk" Your words throw Max right off the edge as he lets out a deep groan stilling his hips and shooting endless ropes of his spend into you. You both lay in comfortable silence, your fingers playing with his hair now disheveled.
“Do you mean it? After this is all over?” Anything could happen. Perhaps this was just to keep his bed warm. Something to keep him calm, you were just someone to-
"Of course Liefje" Max presses a firm kiss to your forehead, silencing the thoughts that tried to run wild. "You're mine"
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yourusername first day at work, welcome to the playground - newbie.
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user1 what a dream job 😭
user2 I wanna be there toooooo 😭
urfriend my baby's dream finally came true
yourusername wish me luck bestie
user4 what is your job?
yourusername i'm the new intern in social media for RBR
liked by redbullracing, yourusername, landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 3,962,028 others
maxverstappen1 this new (intern) social media manager has me doing all sorts of weird things, apparently the fans like me doing this…I’m yet to be convinced 😂 might need a long nap after this.
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username12 fyi we absolutely love photos like these 😂
landonorris I nearly fell off my chair laughing after scrolling through this post 😂😂😂
username13 thank you the new intern for convincing max to bless us with a world of meme worthy content, i beg for more
username14 he has no idea how much we love seeing this side of him does he???
username15 pls promote ur new intern to be ur lifelong admin @/redbullracing
redbullracing let me ask my boss first ferrari we still have open position for the new intern, wanna join? redbullracing back off mercedesamgf1 or u can work for us instead, why be an intern when u can be our new admin for a very demure, very mindfull team! username16 are they battling for the new intern 😂 username17 on track and offtrack battle
liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing and 26,882 others
yourusername life lately as the new intern at @/redbullracing
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username18 so u r the new intern that blessed us with so much max's meme
yourusername no need to tks me 🤗 username18 u r so pretty, might be my new wife
username19 oooooh max's in the like
username20 aww so cute
username3 the outfits slay
landonorris uhhh
username21 WHAT ARE YOU EOING HERE maxverstappen1 she's not on ur team, mate landonorris so i can not say hello to her ???
yourbff you are so effortlessly gorgeous please 😫 and whose hand is that wifey
username22 wtf is max and lando beefing in the comment
username23 shut the f up she's a swiftie OMG i need a challenge with max and checo with taylor
yourusername working on it, but these two know nothing 'bout the pop culture 😭 username24 OMG the devil works hard but u gotta work harder girl
liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, yourusername and 1,826,882 others
redbullracing Taylor Swift 1 - 0 Chestappen
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maxverstappen1 do not shame ur drivers publicly like that
redbullracing we do not 🤗 landonorris how can they not know about THE TAYLOR georgerussell63 i would have won this charlesleclerc if the ferrari's challenge could be this easy
username30 they cant even score a point
username31 OMG Chestappen
liked by 826,882 others
f1wags new wag alert!!! This might be the new gf of Max and she also works for Red Bull too
username32 OMG is she y/n the old intern now admin
f1wags that's her
username33 i follow her too and she is soooooooo pretty
username34 her new ideas for all their challenges are cool too
username1 😒😒
username2 BOOOO👎
username3 so it’s official then huh?
username13 BODY IS TEAA
username24 HOLYYY
liked by yourusername, danielricciardo, charlesleclerc, redbullracing, and 3,344,234 others
maxverstappen1 i think this called hard launch and yes this is my new gf @/yourusername took all the pics since she thought i'm not very good at it
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#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 fic#f1 x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#f1 blurb#red bull racing#red bull f1#red bull formula 1#red bull team
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mistletoe ─ alexia putellas x reader
part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!
in which: you try to drop hints to alexia through your christmas decoration
warnings: oblivious alexia deserves a warning on its own
wc: 6.5k
You and Alexia had met a couple years ago at the driving range which you worked at. The Spaniard, accompanied with some of her Barcelona teammates, had picked out your work place as their team bonding haven for the afternoon. You had taken a gap year between your bachelors and masters, spending 12 months in Spain with your aunt, in her apartment in the Barcelona city centre. You'd picked up a side job at the driving range which kept you busy throughout the year, but left you more than enough time to soak in the Spanish sun and to explore the rowdy streets of Barcelona.
You and her hit it off immediately, cracking jokes off of each other any time you had the chance. She liked how you didn't seem to treat her as Alexia Putellas – the footballer, but just as Alexia. Human Alexia. Not the one that everyone seemed to want a signature from, or a picture with, but just the one in her day-to-day life. The persona that she didn't get to be most of the times when she was out and about, so it was a welcome change for her.
By the end of their time at the driving range, Alexia had had to endure endless teasing and torturing from her friends about her connection with you. The midfielder hadn't had a romantic interest in a good while, forever claiming she was too busy, but she knew damn well that was a little white lie to cover up for the fact that – despite the attention she faced every single day – she was just really, really shy. So when her friends realized that Alexia was hitting it off with one of the workers from the range, they were adamant that she tried to get your number.
While you were closing up, putting the last sets of chairs on tables and making sure all lights were off and doors were locked, you were suddenly startled by a tap on your shoulder. You couldn't conceal the squeal that escaped your lips, but were quickly comforted once you turned around and saw the face that you'd been thinking about all afternoon.
Alexia's advances had definitely gotten to you throughout the afternoon. You remained professional, but you found yourself gravitating towards their lane every time you had a free moment. You spent most of your time mingling with Alexia and her friends, talking about everything and nothing. It was safe to say that a little flirting had occurred, but you knew who Alexia was and you wouldn't have put it past her for that to be something she did on a daily. You assumed that the Ballon d'Or-winning midfielder could have about anyone she wanted, so you quickly wiped the thought away of her being into you of all people.
"Oh, Alexia, it's you," you chuckled, holding your hand over your chest where your heart would be. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to scare you," Alexia said, her Spanish accent seeping through whenever she spoke English. "Don't worry. Everything okay? Was everything to your guys liking?" She gave you a curt nod, and moved her weight from one leg to the other. She seemed a little restless, but you couldn't put your finger on the emotions that were etched on her face.
Alexia opened and closed her mouth a couple of times, trying to come up with the right thing to say. You were just about to make a joke, when she reached into the crossbody bag she was carrying and pulled out a piece of paper. "Do you have a... uhm," she frowned, looking around. "How you say... una birome?"
A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, amused at how restless the otherwise so composed footballer seemed. Despite your efforts, though, you couldn't help Alexia with her translation. You'd picked up a couple classes here and there, and your Spanish had gotten a lot better ever since you started your year out here, but your knowledge of the language still left a lot to be desired.
"Una biroma?" you replied, cocking your eyebrow at her. "No, birome. E, not a," Alexia frowned and seemed to have forgotten about what she actually needed, busying herself with explaining the pronunciation of the word. "Alexia, what do you need?" you interrupted her before she could get lost in her words, both wanting her to tell you what she wanted, but you were also running late to dinner with your aunt. You needed to lock up the range and drive home quick if you wanted to beat the evening traffic, but Alexia was giving you a hard time at doing so.
"Something to write, uh..." "A pen?" "Sí, a pen!"
A breathy laugh escaped your lips as Alexia's face lit up. You reached into your back pocket and pulled out the pen you used to write down people's drink orders during the day. "Here. This should do, why do you need it?"
Alexia snatched the pen from your hands and scribbled something down on the piece of paper she'd taken from her bag. Before you could grasp what was happening, she was done and pushed both the paper and the pen back in your hands, before rushing off towards the parking lot. You could just about clamp onto both before they fell down, calling after Alexia, but to no avail. She'd already turned the corner outside and she was out of sight. You shook your head and frowned, wondering what could've startled her all of a sudden. You opened up the crumpled piece of paper and noticed she'd written down her number, a couple scratched out numbers and it was written all wonky. She had clearly been nervous about giving you her number, but you still didn't feel like it warranted her just running out on you like that.
You couldn't help the warm feeling that nestled itself into your stomach at the fact you had seemed to make Alexia Putellas nervous. The Alexia Putellas, 3-time UWCL winner, 2-time Ballon d'Or winner, had gotten so incredibly nervous around you that she sprinted away when she gave you her number.
What you didn't know, whilst you were locking up, is that Alexia was receiving an unimaginable amount of stick at how she handled the situation, but her friends were silently proud of her nonetheless for at least attempting at putting herself out there. They know she struggled with it and for her to make this first step, despite all the pushing by her friends, it was a big leap.
Later that night, when you arrived back home from dinner with your aunt, you decided that would be a good time to message Alexia. You didn't feel like it was appropriate to text her right away, deciding to let some tension build up between the both of you before you allowed her the reprieve of knowing you liked her back.
You texted a little back and forth that same evening, and before you knew it had you a date set in your calendar. You'd agreed on going for coffee the day after, and the rest was history.
But what first seemed like happily ever after, was going to be nothing like it. Not in the slightest. Your first date with Alexia was amazing. The energy you shared at the driving range carried over to the café, the both of you sharing a couple hours talking about everything and nothing with each other. You talked about her career, her youth, her path up to where she was right now, and you talked about your studies, your home back in England and your experiences in Barcelona. You thought the two of you shared a real connection, but you couldn't shake the tinge of disappointment you felt when you didn't end the date with a kiss.
Nonetheless, a second date came, and the two of you still hit it off. You conversed like you'd known each other for years, never a moment of silence when you were together. It felt right with Alexia, you felt comfortable and you could tell she felt the same. And even if you couldn't sense it, you knew because she told you. She opened up about how she felt like she could be herself around you, a welcome change from her usual day-to-day life where she felt like she had to perform and be the version of herself 24/7, day in day out. Your heart had warmed at her words, and you couldn't help but hope that this time, your date would end with a kiss. But nothing was less true.
Weeks went on, date after date happened, you had both been to each other's apartments, but that base hadn't been covered yet. Despite your – sometimes not so subtle – hints, you started falling into a pattern of just casual friendship. It felt like, every week, the mountain was becoming higher to climb. The tension was palpable between the two of you and you knew the Spaniard could feel it too. She'd been more careful around you, a little less expressive and a little less touchy. You don't know who initiated what, but you knew something had changed in the air.
Before long, you started having doubts about the whole ordeal. You knew that, going into this, you were dating a professional footballer. You knew how their schedules got, how busy they were, especially someone like Alexia. Their time at football didn't just stop at practices and games, it was meetings, shoots, media events and so on. Alexia had weaved around her appointments to be able to see you regularly, but it had started to feel like she was slipping away a little.
-
Christmas was around the corner, your favorite time of year. Work had died down tremendously, understandable seen the ranges were outside. No one was interested in freezing their asses off playing some golf around this time of year. But from time to time, you had some customers that came in for a drink. You had gotten through most of your workday on Monday afternoon, when suddenly your phone chimed with a message.
From: Ale ⭐️ Hola, chica. Are you at work? I'm passing by soon. Wanna say hi. :)
You smiled at your phone, the message perfectly encapsulating what had drawn you in about Alexia. She was so sincere, she made you feel like you were genuinely important. She went out of her way to see you, even if it was just for an hour, she would move her shoot and shorten her time for the media just so she could grab a coffee with you. That's why the lack of romantic connection between the both of you confused you. There were a handful of times where you felt like you were going to take the first step, but you didn't want to push her into something that you weren't sure whether she wanted. She had opened up to you about how hard she found it to manage a relationship with her career, so the last thing you wanted to do was force one onto her. That's the reason why you decided to let her come to you, but months had passed now and nothing happened. The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm of seeing each other weekly, catching up over a coffee or a film in either's apartment, but the midfielder seemed content with the situation you found yourself in right now, and it had started frustrating you to no end.
On one side, you assumed that it would be better to cut contact. You had to admit it, you were falling for Alexia and if you wanted to make sure you didn't get too hurt from the fall, you had to put yourself first and make an end to it. But you couldn't. Not when her strong arms engulfed you in a hug when she hadn't seen you for a week, not when you came home to your plushies meticulously arranged on top of your made bed as a thank you for letting her stay over the night before, and especially not when her lips softly kissed your cheek every time she wished you goodbye, eye contact lingering a little longer than you should, forever wishing she was kissing your lips goodnight instead of your cheeks goodbye.
You quickly rid yourself of your thoughts and sent Alexia a reply, not wanting to keep her waiting too long.
To: Ale ⭐️ Yeah, I'm at the range.
You didn't intend to be curt, but you had gotten worked up about the situation in your head and didn't feel like being overly nice to her right now. You finished up a bit of work and managed to answer a couple emails before Alexia's arms wrapped around your shoulders, pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you turned around and got up from your chair, meeting her embrace with one of your own.
"Hola," Alexia mumbled against the side of your face, squeezing you a little tighter before letting go of your body and placing her hands back in the front pocket of her hoodie. You took a moment to take her in. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail that was trying it's best to keep all her hair at bay, but a couple baby hairs managed to escape anyway. They stood up proudly on top of her head, almost mocking the rest of her hair that was tightly tucked away. She was dressed in a Barca hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants, keeping her safe from the cold wind outside that mercilessly nipped at every bit of skin it could find. Her face was covered in a thin layer of sweat, remnants of the run she was on before she stopped here. She looked adorable, really, and you could just about press down the urge to surge forward once again and hide your face in her neck.
"Hey you," you smiled, locking eyes with her. "Good run?" Alexia nodded, still trying to catch her breath, the difference in temperature making it harder to regain her composure, your work place a lot warmer than the outside. "Yeah, it felt good. Had training earlier but I felt like a run, so I was happy that my legs were working with me."
You chuckled, no longer surprised at Alexia's incredible work rate. She'd worked hard to be where she was, and there was no way that she wasn't going to keep her spot cemented up there with the big names in football. So with that thought in the back of her mind, she kept working hard every single day, even though she had proved herself and others time and time again that she was the best.
You tried to match Alexia's excited energy, but there was something inside you that didn't allow you to be as expressive with the midfielder as you usually were. Whether it was the thoughts you were having about your situation before she walked in, or something else, you couldn't quite pinpoint, but there was a tension building between the two of you and it didn't feel nice.
"That's nice, Ale," you sat back down on your chair and absentmindedly started doing a bit more of your work, not thinking much of it. You and Alexia had co-existed a lot of times in her apartment, you doing some work for school and her rewatching her games, but this time the Spaniard wasn't having it. "Oi!", you exclaimed, as you felt Alexia flick your ear. "What was that for?" you questioned, cocking an eyebrow at her as you turned your chair back over to her, her face sporting a crooked grin.
"Am I not interesting enough for your attention?" she said, clearly meaning for it to be a joke, but you could sense the hint of disappointment in her voice. You cursed yourself internally for making Alexia think like that of herself. "No, Ale, I just need to get through some of this work here. I have a lot of emails to catch up with and seen as the range is quiet today, I was making good work of them," you tried to reason. "If you didn't want me to stop by, you could've said," Alexia quipped back, insecurity seeping through her voice. "No, no. It's not that," you said quickly, standing back up and grabbing one of her hands from her front pocket in yours. Alexia intertwined your fingers and you had to take a deep breath to compose yourself and to not get lost in the small display of affection the midfielder was showing you.
You meticulously picked out your next words, not wanting Alexia to feel like she's too much in this space right now. "I don't want you to feel like I don't want to see you, because I always do. You know that," you squeezed Alexia's hand and looked into her eyes, searching them for any sign of discomfort. "I was just a little busy. I'm sorry. I should've said."
Alexia pulled you into another hug, wiping away all the thoughts that were running rampant through your head. Right as you were sinking into her embrace, she pulled away. "No te preocupes. I'll let you finish up with the rest of your work. If you want to watch a film together later, call me. I'm free," Alexia pressed a kiss against your crown and left you to your own devices, stepping away from behind the counter gracefully stepping towards the exit of the building, picking up a jog right before she turned the corner and made her way back to her apartment.
You stood there for a couple moments, registering what just happened. Things always went like this. Alexia would show you some signs of affection, you'd get lost in it and pick everything apart about the small interaction in your mind for the rest of the evening. You didn't know what else you could do to make it clear to her that you wanted her. You'd voiced multiple times that you felt good around her, how you felt about the two of you, but it just seemed like she wasn't able to see through what you were saying. You tried to rid yourself of the insecure thoughts that were creeping past the walls of your mind and busied yourself with more admin work for the rest of the afternoon.
That night, you didn't call Alexia. You had a free night, but you didn't spend it cuddled up with her on the couch, like you had done often the past couple weeks. You and her would pick a film and get way too close to each other throughout it, before you inevitably fell asleep with your head on her lap, always disappointed the morning after when you woke up in her bed, alone. You appreciated that she carried you to bed, but you wanted to be with her. Not alone in her room, sheets cold on the other side, door ajar with the possibility of her joining you, but it never happened.
As much as you tried to distance yourself from Alexia, you couldn't. You didn't let yourself, but it was also nearly impossible with how the midfielder clung to you. You loved it, really, but you'd loved it more if you knew why she wasn't bridging the gap that was so, so clear between the two of you.
-
Christmas Eve. A day you'd grown to love over the past couple years. You didn't have particularly good childhood memories about the day, but ever since you were able to make your own plans for the festivities, December 24th had quickly become one of your favorite days. For the last couple years now, you and your friends had built the little tradition of going to one of your houses and celebrating it there. Everyone that attended made a dish, whether it was starters, main or dessert, and you all enjoyed the company with good food and a couple glasses of good wine. This year, though, you'd all agreed on having it in Barcelona. Your friends didn't want to pass up on the opportunity of seeing you, but they also really wanted to experience Barcelona in all its glory during the winter months. You couldn't blame them. If there was one thing you loved about these couple weeks, it was how nice the city was decorated. Christmas lights adorning every street lantern, Christmas trees littered throughout the city and the soft chime of Christmas music waltzing through the air.
You'd gone out of the way to decorate your aunt's apartment that was yours for the week, her going back to England to celebrate all of it with your family over there. She'd promised you she would give them all many hugs from you, a small side of yours still gutted about the fact that you wouldn't see your family, your mum for Christmas this year. But you knew, surrounded by your friends, you'd have an incredible night. This year, though, you all agreed that plus ones were welcome. You thought it was only fair that if they had to come to Spain, their partners were allowed to come too. That said, though, it seemed like you were the only one without a plus one. It wasn't really something that bothered you, having been single for quite some time now, but you would be lying if you said it hadn't been on your mind the past couple days. Your friends and their partners were out exploring Barcelona before they had to come to yours, and you couldn't help but dread the fact that you couldn't join them with a partner of yourself. Your thoughts dialed back to Alexia, seemingly inevitable, and you figured the least you could do was text her and wish her a fun Christmas Eve.
To: Ale ⭐️ Enjoy your Christmas Eve tonight, Ale. 🧡
You added a little finishing touches to your dinner table, meticulously arranging all the decorations that were on it as you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.
From: Ale ⭐️ Thank you, amor. No plans tonight, though. I have training tomorrow morning and we aren't very big on Christmas Eve in our family
Despite the nickname driving you wild, your shoulders fell visibly as you read Alexia's message. You couldn't imagine not having plans on Christmas Eve. A thought crossed your mind and you acted upon it before the flurry of confidence got lost on you.
To: Ale ⭐️ Wanna join us? There's a couple friends and their partners coming over. We're just having a big dinner. Nothing too crazy. If you want, I'll drive you home for training tomorrow? :)
You quickly turned your phone back off and shoved it back into your back pocket, already nervous about Alexia's reply. You busied yourself with a couple final preparations to the snack plates you made, that being your part of the food tonight. You gave your table and food one more look, deciding you were satisfied with how everything looked before you made your way over to your bedroom and picked out the outfit you'd bought for tonight.
You were shopping in Barcelona on your day off last week when your eyes fell on a elegant-looking black jumpsuit. You realized that you didn't have an outfit yet for Christmas Eve, so the choice was made for you, and a couple minutes later you left the store with an extra bag hanging from your hands. You showed the piece of clothing to Alexia through a picture over text, and she voiced how beautiful she thought you would look in it. It was a simple compliment, but it'd warmed you inside and it had you thinking about how it could've been had you guys decided to start a relationship somewhere during the last few months. You could've spent the holidays together, buying each other presents, wearing matching pj's, watching Christmas films on the couch with a mug of hot chocolate in hand. But despite all the flirting and teasing, nothing had happened between the two of you, and you were here in your bedroom, alone. Before you could sulk any further, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket.
From: Ale ⭐️ Oh, eso suena bien. Are you sure? I don't want to intrude on your night with your friends.
You chuckled at her concern, and typed a quick reply.
To: Ale ⭐️ Yes, I'm sure. I'd love to have you with us here. Vendrán a las 7, pero puedes venir un poco antes si quieres :)
You tried your best to form a coherent Spanish sentence, knowing Alexia liked it when you made an effort to try and speak her mother tongue. She'd let it slip one time that she found your accent attractive, and ever since then you'd attempted to learn a bit more in your free time. A quick glance at the clock told you the time was nearing 6, so you waited for Alexia's reply and then quickly jumped in the shower.
From: Ale ⭐️ Perfect. I'll be there. See you soon. x
The jumpsuit fitted you perfectly, hugging and accentuating your curves in all the right ways. You put on a light touch of make-up, not wanting to go overboard but you liked to add a little extra touch to your look on days like these. You made your way back downstairs and lit some candles, trying to set a warm and homely scenery for your guests later. You put on a soft Christmas playlist and took a step back to admire your work, infatuated by how cosy your place looked right now.
You'd turned off all the big lights and replaced them with your cosy mood lightning throughout the apartment, casting your place in a golden glow. The shadows of the candles you lit were dancing all over the ceiling. Your Christmas tree, which you had spent hours on last week trying to decorate it to your liking, was tucked away in the corner of the living room, its twinkling lights shining bright. The dinner table was decorated lightly, adding a couple red and white details to the table decoration. There was a mistletoe hanging from the arched entryway from the dining area to the living room, and you couldn't help but think about the possibilities it could bring later on. The light scent of cinnamon and peppermint hung in the air, courtesy of a couple scented candles Alexia had gifted you last week. She'd recently learned just how much you liked the holidays, and wanted to give you something that you could use in your place. She wasn't big on it herself, her and her family never having made a big deal out of it, so for her to go out of her way to pick something up for you, meant so much more to you than she could imagine.
The soft hints of music waltzing through the air really finished off the perfect picture, and it's safe to say you were more than satisfied with the way your apartment looked right now. The time was nearing 6:45 and you knew Alexia would be here soon, followed suit by your friends in the following 20 minutes. Right on cue, you heard a knock on your door.
You could feel your heart skipping a beat, but you tried to ignore it. You wiped your hands on your jumpsuit and tried to regain your composure by taking in a deep breath, before making your way over to the door in a couple quick strides and taking a look through the peer hole of the door. If you were nervous before, you surely were now. You couldn't quite see all of it, but the outfit Alexia was wearing had already left a dry feeling in your mouth. You caught yourself staring and shook your thoughts, stepping back and opening your door, revealing the Spaniard in all her glory. She was wearing a pair of black suit pants, combined with a white blouse that she left opened at the top. Her hair was straightened and fell down her shoulders, a welcome change to the ponytail and headband she usually had in when you saw her. You didn't see her in something else than her sporty attire that often, so every time you did, she always managed to take her breath away. As if her outfit wasn't enough to throw you off balance, she was holding a a big bouquet of red roses in her hands. The look on her face told you that she knew this outfit would've pulled a reaction out of you, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss the goofy grin off her lips.
"Ale," you breathed, "Hey. You look incredible," you said, taking a step back and allowing her space to enter your apartment. She turned back towards you and shamelessly checked you out, letting her eyes rake over your jumpsuit-clad body before she met yours. "Hear who's speaking. You look amazing," she said, inching closer to you and pressing a lingering kiss against your cheek. You didn't fail to notice the way her hand wrapped around your waist for a second, the skin on your lower back burning where she had just touched you. "Aquí, para ti," she said, holding out the bouquet in front of her. "You didn't have to do this, Ale, you know-," "Shh, don't worry. You invite me, so I bring you something."
A blush coated your cheeks as you took the bouquet from her, placing it down on the counter while you looked for a vase. "This looks nice, you've done a good job on decorating," Alexia said, her voice ringing through the apartment as she explored your living room. You lifted your head from the cabinet in which you found a vase that would suit the flowers, and shot her a smile. "Thank you, I spent quite some time on it. I'm glad you like it," Alexia hummed and returned back to admiring your decorated apartment.
The night went on just as you'd hoped it would. Not long after Alexia arrived, your friends came up too. Long, heartfelt hugs were shared with everyone, suddenly realizing you'd missed them so much more than you thought you had. Alexia didn't need an introduction to any of them, but it's safe to say they were more than surprised when they realized she was your plus one for the evening. A lot of questions were thrown your way whenever Alexia was out of earshot, but you tried to quiet them down because the last thing you wanted, was to get upset about how everything with Alexia went down the last couple of months. You cut it down to "we're just friends," multiple times, but none of your friends could miss the tinge of disappointment that flickered through your eyes every time the subject got brought up.
Lots of good food and a little bit too much wine later, your friends started making their way back out. You'd offered for them to stay over, but they had all made a reservation for a night at hotels nearby. They were all flying back home tomorrow and they could use the rest before a long day of traveling. Alexia was lingering, and while you actually didn't want her to leave, you were also surprised. After all, she still had training tomorrow. With the clock nearing 12, you knew she was way past her usual bedtime. "Ale, you okay?" you questioned, the Spaniard busying herself with cleaning up your table. You frowned when she didn't reply, so you stepped in and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Alexia." "Hmm?" she mumbled, surprise clear in her voice. "Sorry, I didn't hear. What did you say?"
You chuckled and rubbed her shoulder affectionately before dropping your arm back to your side. "Are you okay? I know it's late, I thought you'd want to leave early because you have training in the morning," you said tentatively, not wanting to seem like you wanted her gone. "Ah, sí. Yeah, I should get going," the midfielder said, but you sensed she didn't really want to do that. "You don't have to, you know that. You can stay here too and I'll drive you to practice tomorrow. I don't have work this week and my aunt isn't here, it's not a bother to me."
Alexia's eyes lit up and you knew you had her. "If that's okay?" she asked again, wanting to make sure that she was not a bother to you. You nodded, offering her a big smile. "Yeah, of course. Don't worry. I'll get my bedroom set up for you."
Before she could muster up a reply, you'd already turned the corner and were making your way upstairs. Truth be told, Alexia had felt a little out of place all evening. She had fun, lots of fun even, but she could sense that the air between the two of you was charged with something she didn't like. In all fairness, she was jealous of your friends. They had all brought their partners and were spending their Christmas Eve all cozy and cuddled up with their lovers, while you two were still just going about things as "good friends". She was tired of dancing around the feelings she had for you, the feelings she was sure you had for her too. She wanted nothing more than to spend her days as your girlfriend, waking up together in your bed in the morning, spending your days together, you coming to her games and her coming to your work whenever you had the time. She didn't want to act like she didn't want you in a different way than she had you right now. It wasn't enough. And if it couldn't be, she'd have to cut contact with you.
Unbeknownst to her, you were thinking about her too in your bedroom. You made your bed and put out some clothes for Alexia to sleep in, and you couldn't help but think about how disappointed you had been that you didn't get to love up on Alexia like your friends were doing with their partners all night. A couple fleeting touches would've had to do, each one lingering a bit longer than the other, telling you that Alexia was clearly feeling the same way about the situation like you. Despite the obviousness of the whole ordeal, neither of you had succeeded in taking the next step. You were caught up in your mind, when suddenly an idea came up to you. The mistletoe.
You made your way back down and were surprised to see your dining table cleaned up. The kitchen was still quite the mess, but that was something you would tackle yourself tomorrow. "Thanks, Ale, you didn't have to do that. I could've helped you", you said, the Spaniard waving you off from her spot in the kitchen. "Don't worry, please. You invited me tonight and you're letting me stay here, the least I can do is help you with cleaning up."
You mumbled another quick thanks when she passed by you, making her way to the living room and plopping down on the couch. You wanted to follow her, but there was only one thing on your mind and you wouldn't let it go until you'd got what you wanted. You lingered between the dining area and the living room, very purposefully standing under your arched entryway where the mistletoe hung. You prayed to all the Gods that Alexia would understand the meaning of the Christmas ornament, but the dumbfounded look on her face when you didn't join her immediately told you otherwise.
"Come here, I want to cuddle," she stated. You wanted nothing more than to join her on the couch, to fall in her outstretched arms, but you stayed put, because what you really wanted was something so much better than a cuddle. It wasn't out of sorts for you to be cuddled up together on the couch, so she looked at you weirdly and cocked her eyebrow and head at you when you shook your head adamantly. "¿Por qué no?"
"Ale...," you breathed, vaguely gesturing towards the mistletoe hanging above your head. You didn't want to have to spell it out, missing out on the sincerity of the moment if you had to explain Alexia what you wanted. But you thanked your lucky stars when you saw Alexia moving up from the couch and making her way over to you in a quick few strides. Your luck ran out soon enough though, when Alexia halted in front of you but didn't make any further moves towards you. "¿Qué pasa? Why do you have twigs on your ceiling?"
At that moment, you wished that the ground would swallow you whole. You thought you finally were about to get what you'd been yearning for the past couple months, but much to your disdain, Alexia clearly didn't know what the mistletoe hanging above the two of you meant. You sighed and closed your eyes, taking a moment to ground yourself before speaking up. "Alexia, that's a mistletoe," you explained. "A what? Mistle... toe? What is that?" You sighed again and pinched the bridge of your nose, barely containing a laugh at the ridiculous situation you found yourself in.
"It's a Christmas decoration, Ale, and it-" "Ah, sí. It's nice," she finished her sentence and grabbed your hand, tugging you towards her and back to the couch, but you planted your feet in the ground. "Alexia," you said sternly. She looked at you with wide eyes, surprised at the tone of your voice. "Yes?" "It's a tradition that, when you're under a mistletoe with someone, that you have to... you have to kiss," you whispered the last word, almost not wanting to voice it out loud, scared that you might break the bond the two of you had been building up the last couple months. Maybe this wasn't what Alexia wanted at all, maybe she just wanted you as a friend and nothing more. Doubts started to creep in the longer the silence between the two of you stretched, neither of you making a move. "Oh...," Alexia mumbled at last.
You looked down at your feet, playing with the rings that clad your fingers. "Yeah," you breathed, before braving a look at her. "I mean, we don't have to... it's just a silly tradition, really. I didn't mean to-," before you could embarrass yourself further while trying to turn the situation around, you felt Alexia's hands cupping your cheeks. She tilted your head upwards and took a step closer towards you, resting her forehead against yours. She closed her eyes for a second and breathed in through her nose, composing herself for a moment before opening her eyes again and locking them with yours. She brushed your bottom lip with her thumb before speaking up.
"Can I kiss you?" "Please do."
#woso#woso community#woso imagine#woso x reader#alexia putellas#alexia putellas x reader#barcelona femini#barca femeni#barca femini x reader#spain wnt
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All characters are aged up 18+ MDNI
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Bakugou doesn't care that you are making a mess on his pants, couldn't care any less about the messy white streaks you are leaving behind on the zipper of the navy suit.
Both of you knew at the end of the gala, you would be here, Bakugou buried inches deep in you while you clawed his back because your guts were being rearranged.
But you didn't expect that to be here, in Kirishima's office.
The event was cut unexpectedly short, as Bakugou dragged you to a spare room that also happened to be Kirishima's office.
You have already cum twice, cunt spasming around Bakugou's cock, as you look up at him, silently begging to slow down.
"s..sl..slow down..please..I came..just came.." you whimpered in his ear, praying he would listen and have mercy on you gooey cunt.
The thrusts stopped and he settled deep in you. The tip of his cock squished against your cervix, the both your cream collecting at the base of his cock. For a moment, you thought he was going to show you mercy, gonna spare your tight cunt and go easy on you.
But the glimmer in his eyes and the slight smirk on his face told you otherwise, he was going to be mean tonight. Bakugou pulled out of you, cock glistening with your cum, tip a deep red colour pressing against your swollen pussy.
Bakugou smeared his precum on your hard little clit, before fully pulling away, a thin string of slick connecting you both before it breaks.
Bakugou backs up to take a closer look at your state, you are a mess, skirt hiked up at your waist, gooey little pussy on display, breasts spilling from the top of your shirt. The site of your nipples almost peeking from the neckline making his dick throb. He turns you around, hand gentle as he guides you to lean against the wall.
"I'll go easy on ya' jus' wanna make sure the pussy is happy you know", He said while aligning his tip with your drippy hole.
Pushing in with a single thrust, giving you a moment to get used to his thick cock stretching your gummy walls again, his hand reached around you rub on your clit.
A weak whimper left your throat when he hissed,"Loosen up will ya' cunt is gripping me too tight, need ya to let my dick breath babe". He rubbed tight little circles on your clit and started thrusting. Making sure to hold your waist so you wouldn't fall.
"m' gonna cum, pl.. please it's there ... Please please" you babbled on, cunt spasming around him, you looked over his shoulder, silently begging him to not stop.
Bakugou's hand sped up and so did his thrusting, he could tell you were close. He felt you tense up as you came around him, pussy gushing as you shuddered and clawed at his arm.
Following you, Bakugou came in your gummy walls with a low grunt, few more thrusts and he relented his movement and pulled out.
"yer dripping, little cunt leaking all over the place" he said while gathering your cummy mixture and smearing it over your clit.
"no..no it's se.. sensitive please", you said as you pulled away his hand.
Bakugou gathered you in his arms and took you to the couch, laying you down he went to the attached bathroom to grab a washcloth and clean the mess between your legs.
He fixed your clothes and covered you with blanket. Before sitting beside you and running his fingers through your here.
He pulled out his phone to check what was going on at the gala only to be greeted with a message.
Shitty hair : Better clean the cum off my couch too Bakubro 😀💪🏼🧽🧼
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#bnha#bnha x reader#mha#mha x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bnha bakugou#bnha smut#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou smut#bakugou katsuki x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou x you#mha smut#bnha x you#mha x you
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It's not like I'm falling in love, I just want ya to do me no good (and you look like you could) (18+)
Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader
Ewan Mitchell isn't one for parties, but for you? He'd make an exception. Surrounded by stars at the GQ party, his revered muse on the big screen becomes a twisted angel in his arms—leaving him seeing stars again as he finds bliss within your warmth.
word count: 6.7k
main masterlist ▪︎ teaser
Ewan thought he could keep up the celebrity facade, just for the night at least, but the ceaseless barrage of mingling is starting to get to him.
The boo hurled at him right outside the establishment still echoes in his ears. Maybe it wasn't even about him, but his annoyance had been triggered. He decides that it all has gotten to him. What a load of bull.
He had been on the fence about being tapped as an honouree of a lifestyle magazine. Like it means anything. What does this have to do with being an actor? How is this supposed to help his craft? He might as well have been tapped to do one of those videos where he shows everyone what's in his bag.
"It's exposure," his team had chirped in unison, practically reading from a PR handbook.
This wasn't the industry he'd envisioned when he first fell in love with the craft. But none of this is about craft. It's all publicity fodder, all noise.
What he really wants—what his entire being craves—is a BAFTA, a Golden Globe, a SAG award. Hell, he would trade every glitzy dinner party invite for the faintest whiff of Oscar buzz. That was the dream.
Instead, here he is, tethered to a seat at one of four long tables, littered with stars of every calibre—from industry titans to the disposable nobodies who would be forgotten by this time next month.
He had been encouraged to make connections. Socialize. He translated this as a polite way of being told to suck up to people. Maybe a casting director would remember him. Maybe some producer would pass his name along. Easy.
Flattery will get you everywhere in this business.
But at any given time, he would much rather suck on a bloody spliff.
Leaning over to Davey, he says, "I might sneak out for a smoke or something. That's fine, right?"
Davey snickers, sensing Ewan's agitation. "Oh, if you're asking me, I say do whatever you want, mate."
But then someone from his team, straight-laced, precious Lindsay, lets him know otherwise. "Ewan, I'd advise you to sit still for now. What if they call you up some time during dinner?"
Ewan doubles down, his leg anxiously shaking under the table. "Are they going to call on me?"
Lindsay balks. She hasn't heard Ewan sound this pressed before. "Well, we weren't told but—"
"Then I can go. They wouldn't care."
"Ewan, just—"
"Sorry, Lind, but I gotta take a breather. This is all just—"
Lindsay waves him off, resigned. Ewan has always been an easy client to manage, so she can't bring herself to begrudge him this. "Fine, whatever. Just make sure to hide the cigarette if the photographer shows up."
"Sure," he mutters, not meaning it in the slightest. Nobody would care if he is spotted smoking. They should be grateful he is not among the deviants doing lines in the bathroom.
He abruptly gets up from his seat, and backs right into... you.
Of all people. Ewan feels the blood drain from his face, his breath hitching as disbelief engulfs him. His hand instinctively rises, brushing against the silken warmth of flawless skin exposed by your backless dress. The contact sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he's certain he might pass out. You—right here, in the flesh.
You flash him a dazzling, effortless smile and murmur, "Oops, excuse me," your voice a melodic tease that leaves him utterly undone.
"Oh, no... no problem." He stammers, fully aware that he should be the one begging pardon.
You hold his gaze, ensnaring him so effortlessly. He realises how stupid he must look, with his mouth parted and his eyes wide. He should say his name. He should introduce himself, goddamnit.
But the moment shatters when someone calls your name. You step away without hesitation, and Ewan feels the loss acutely, like an unhooked fish left gasping on dry land.
Then it comes. That fucking sound.
The high-pitched squeal you let out is sharp, almost grating, but somehow it still strikes him as endearing. He'd probably hate it if it didn't come from you.
"Hi! Oh my god, how are you? I haven't seen you since our ski trip in Courmayeur!" Your voice carries, your excitement encroaching his space like an air of warmth.
Ewan follows your trajectory, his eyes trailing as you glide over to Eve Hewson. The two of you embrace like old friends, giggling like co-conspirators, your champagne glasses clinking softly.
He nearly rolls his eyes but catches himself. He knows he's being ridiculous, standing there like a sulking idiot, but the irritation bites anyway. He wants to blame the squeal, or the scene you're making, or the way you seem so goddamn comfortable in this world of chatter and pomp.
But that's not quite it.
He knows the truth, and it gnaws at him like a persistent itch he can't scratch. He's annoyed because he wanted you—your dazzling smile, your undivided attention—to be aimed at him.
He forces his feet to move, making his way down the side hall, where the din of the party fades into muffled chaos. He needs a breather, a moment to reset, but even here, your presence clings to him like static.
It's maddening.
Ewan has spent years watching you. On screens, in interviews, on magazine covers. You're like an open book he's memorised, every detail imprinted on his mind.
That birthmark beneath your right shoulder blade, briefly exposed in that love scene with Glen Powell. He remembers it, even though the camera barely lingered. The way your laugh bursts out unguarded, lighting up every corner of a room.
In one interview, you mentioned Meisner as your go-to technique, and it stuck with him. Of course you'd say Meisner, he thought at the time, like you were someone close to him, because you're all about connection, about living truthfully in the moment.
And here you are, in the same place as him, vibrant and ever so magnetic. Princess of every party, muse of the silver screen.
But you don't know him.
You didn't think you would be attending the British GQ party, but one of your Londoner friends happened to be throwing their birthday bash the night before, so you thought—why the hell not?
You were, of course, invited. Originally, the invite had been for the American GQ Men of the Year party the week prior, but filming schedules had other ideas. For the past two months, you'd been stranded in the icy landscapes of Winnipeg, immersed in the demanding shoot of David Lowery's latest thriller.
Grueling days and endless takes had left you with little energy for glamour. But now, with a few weeks off and the American crew taking a well-earned Thanksgiving break, you finally have some breathing room.
The London event seems like a perfect way to ease back into the whirlwind. And it doesn't disappoint.
The Roof Gardens is buzzing, the atmosphere heavy with the scent of expensive perfume and free-flowing champagne. You glide through it like you belong—because you do. Years of this kind of schmoozing have taught you how to navigate these waters. A charming smile here, a fleeting hug there, a bit of banter with a photographer who asks for the best angle.
You find yourself talking to your old castmate Eve Hewson near the bar, the two of you imbibing something bubbly and dry. She looks luminous as always, her dark hair framing her sharp, mischievous grin.
"Winnipeg, though?" Eve says, her tone incredulous as she leans in. "What the hell is Lowery making you do out there? Freeze to death for art?"
"Pretty much," you laugh, savouring the chill of your drink. "But it's worth it, trust me. The script is absolutely incredible. I just wish the weather wasn't trying to kill me."
"Classic Lowery. He probably thinks the suffering adds authenticity or some shit."
"Probably," you agree, rolling your eyes. For some reason, you find yourself circling back to an earlier incident.
"By the way," you say, leaning a little closer to Eve, "do you know who that guy was? The one I bumped into earlier?"
"Which guy?"
"Clip-on earring. Tall, kind of broody-looking in an overcoat? Wasn't talking much, just sort of... cruising awkwardly."
Eve shrugs, clearly drawing a blank. "I have no idea. Was he hot?"
It only takes you a second to consider this. "I mean, sure. In a tortured artist kind of way. Poor schmuck looked like he'd rather be anywhere but here."
"Oh!" Eve says, snapping her fingers. "Wait, he might be one of the honourees."
You arch a brow. "Not a goddamn influencer, right?"
Eve shakes her head. "No, don't worry. I think he's in that Game of Thrones spinoff. What's it called? House of Dragons?"
"Never saw it." You didn't have the time, truth be told. Also, the last seasons of its predecessor had been enough to edge it off your watchlist.
She taps her chin, thinking. "Wait... oh! Wasn't he that nerd in the movie with Jacob and Barry? Saltburn!"
"Oh my god. That's him? He did great in that role."
"Right? I could not have pointed him out. Kind of a chameleon, I guess."
"Guess so," you agree, the curiosity lingering.
The night unfolds exactly as expected. You exchange quips with Harris Dickinson, who flirts with you just enough to keep things interesting. You catch up with Nicole Kidman, who had been somewhat of a mentor to you when you acted alongside her in your third film at just 16. Jude Law joins your circle at one point, his charm as effortless as ever, and for a while, it feels like just another night on the circuit.
By the time you step outside into the crisp evening air, you're craving a bit of quiet. The gardens around the pavilion are softly lit, the gentle glow of fairy light casting long shadows over the manicured hedges. You pull your vape from your Loewe clutch, taking a long drag as you lean against a cold marble railing.
That's when you notice him again.
He's standing a few feet away, partially obscured by a stone pillar, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The faint smell of tobacco taints the pristine air, and you catch the same restless energy he had earlier.
You wander closer, the soft click of your heels against the stone catching his attention. He glances up, startled, as if he hadn't expected anyone else to venture out here.
"Hey," you say casually, holding your vape up as you stop beside him. "Can you hold this for a sec?"
Before he can respond, you hand him your purse, crouching slightly to tighten the strap on your heel.
He freezes, staring at the outstretched object. "Uh... sure," he relents, albeit hesitantly.
You straighten after a minute, taking the purse back with a quick "Thanks," and give him a once-over. Up close, he's sharper, more distinct. There's something remarkably intense about him that wasn't obvious before.
"I'm Ewan... Mitchell," he blurts, his words a little rushed.
You smile, tilting your head. "Nice to meet you, Ewan."
He fumbles for a response, his cigarette dangling precariously from his fingers. "I, uh, think we bumped into each other earlier. Inside."
"Yeah," you say lightly, your lips curving into a faint smirk. "I like your outfit, by the way. Very vampiric. Dior, right?"
He blinks, then chuckles softly, almost self-deprecatingly. "Yeah. Thanks. I like you too... I mean, I like... I like your dress, too."
You laugh at the accidental remark. There's something undeniably charming about him, despite his nervousness. "Why, thank you, Ewan."
The blush that creeps on his cheeks shows through the powder. He must have felt it, because he immediately trained his gaze down to his polished shoes.
Cute. So you make it your mission to break through his shell. These events tend to get repetitive after a while, but maybe tonight will be a lovely exception.
And so the game begins.
The two of you peacefully take hits of your respective choices of poison, your bubblegum-flavoured vapour melding in the air with his Marlboro red.
"You're quiet," you point out the obvious eventually, a teasing grin playing at your lips.
He almost laughs at the understatement but only shrugs. "Not much to say, I suppose."
"Oh, I doubt that." You lean against the balustrade, studying him. Ewan feels his pulse quicken under the weight of it.
You're so at ease. It's infuriatingly attractive. Your disarming allure, your grace in this world of make-believe, only deepens his self-consciousness. He knows what he must look like: an odd man out, fumbling at the edges of fame while you shine at the centre of it all.
He exhales shakily and finally replies, "Don't let me bore you."
"You're not boring me," you reassure him, before playfully adding, "Not yet at least."
There's a flicker of something unclear behind your eyes when you move closer and ask, "So what are you thinking?"
What he's thinking is that he's out of his depth, that he hasn't felt this kind of raw attraction in years—if ever. He's thinking you're the kind of woman who doesn't even have to command attention, and he's already hopelessly drawn in. But what he says is, "Just... wondering how I got here."
Your laugh is soft, rich with amusement. "To this party?"
"Or this moment."
His words surprise him, his ears burning as they register. You don't say anything, causing Ewan's nerves to spike. Did he sound too eager? Too pathetic?
But then, you smile. That damned megawatt smile that looks even better in person than on screen. "Well, it's a good place to be, isn't it?"
You lean a fraction closer, and could swear his heart is about to burst out of his chest.
"Do you always look so serious?" you ask, your gaze flicking to his lips, admiring the way they seem to be in a state of being perpetually curled. "Or is it just the brooding artist thing?"
"I'll take it if it works," he manages, his voice uneven.
"Oh, it's working," you say softly.
Ewan shifts his weight, tapping the cigarette against the edge of the balustrade. "Sorry, I just... I don't get it. These things. Everyone pretending they know everyone, like it's all some bloody performance."
You exhale a stream of vapour, watching it swirl into the night. He's finally opening up, and there is no way you're letting this slide. "It is a performance," you reply. "That's the point."
He shakes his head, gazing at you with a genuine softness you haven't been at the receiving end of in far too long. "But why? Why not just let the work speak for itself?"
There's something innocent in the way he says it, and it's endearing and definitely rare among your crowd. Ewan Mitchell isn't like the men you usually find at these industry events. He's no preening peacock, no walking cologne ad praying to be noticed.
There's something boyish in the way he fidgets, and yet also something undeniably grown in the way his eyes linger on you when he thinks you're not looking.
You reply, "It's so people know who you are. Why would anyone want to go see your movie if they don't give a shit about you?"
"You see, darling, that's where talent comes into play."
"Hmm, okay. But do you not know how many thousands upon thousands of aspiring actors come to LA every year just to witness the death of their dreams, because nobody gave a shit about who they are? And I'm certain that a lot of them can outact us under the table."
Ewan takes a slow drag from his cigarette, buying himself time. The way you said "us" sends a thrill through him he's desperately trying to smother. "Well," he begins, "if you're talented enough, you'll eventually catch a break. People notice, don't they?"
"Talent isn't everything," you point out. "You need to have drive."
"That I have," he counters quickly, his voice laced with quiet conviction. He wouldn't have been able to climb out of a life of near-guaranteed anonymity in Derbyshire if he didn't possess drive. There's a confidence in him now, a spark you seem to notice, judging by the faint curve of your lips.
"And charisma," you add, your smile widening, "which, clearly, you also have."
"Thank you," he says on instinct. There's a pause, just long enough for him to wonder if he's again blushing under your watchful gaze.
"And," you continue, dragging the word out with deliberate weight, "in this day and age, you need to get people talking."
Ewan exhales, the corner of his mouth quirking up. "How do I do that, superstar?"
"A big, fat scandal usually does the trick." Your voice is casual, but your eyes gleam with mischief.
"Oh, brilliant," he deadpans. His sarcasm earns him another laugh, and he feels it in his chest like a warm shockwave.
"Or... you could date someone famous. Get on the PR train."
Ewan shakes his head, his brow furrowing. "Not for me, I think."
You drift closer, eyes narrowing slightly as if you're sizing him up. "Oh really? You wouldn't get with me if you had the chance?"
The question lands like a lit match in the conversation. He swallows nervously, "Of... of course I would. But I don't want it to be manufactured."
"How would it go then?" There's no mocking in your question, no cruelty in your smile—just curiosity, maybe a touch of challenge.
He falters, betraying the battle waging between his nerves and his growing comfort in your company. "How would what go?"
"How would you, Ewan Mitchell, get me?"
His throat goes dry. He considers dodging it, turning the conversation back to you with one of the rehearsed quips he uses for interviews. But that feels cheap in the face of your boldness, so unabashed and expectant. "Well, I'd ask you on a date."
"And I'd say yes... go on."
"And we'll go to... the cinema," he says simply, and for the first time tonight, he doesn't feel like treading water.
You laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, you're such a purist."
"What's wrong with that?" he asks, a touch defensive but also playful, emboldened by your attention.
"Nothing, you tortured artist, you," you tease, your tone lilting. "And then what?"
"Then... we could grab dinner or—"
"Would you kiss me?" you interrupt, your voice low and threaded with something heavier. Most would hesitate, worrying they'd gone too far, but you're not like most people. You never have been.
"If you... if you wanted me to," he replies, his own voice rough with honesty.
"But would you want to?"
His gaze flickers to your lips for the briefest of moments before snapping back to your eyes. The words spill out of him. "I'd be a fucking idiot not to want to kiss you, darling."
Back in the pavilion, music from the DJ booth intensifies, signalling the post-dinner stage of the festivities. But the booming bass that reverberates is nothing compared to the beating of your hearts.
"On this hypothetical date... do we take it a step further?"
Ewan's thoughts run wild, and they are betrayed by the way his pupils dilate. "What do you mean?"
"I am talking about hooking up." Your words are relaxed, but the way you say them is anything but. They drip with intention, with heat, as if you're privy to the fact that he has pictured that scenario a hundred times over.
"What do you take me for?"
"A warm-blooded man who's clearly attracted to me... and who I'm also attracted to."
"You like me?" he whispers hoarsely.
Instead of answering, you close the distance, your lips brushing featherlight against his. The tentative touch sets him ablaze. When you press harder, surer, he melts into you. His hands tremble as they come up to your waist, anchoring himself in the reality of you.
"Fuck me," he breathes when you pull back, leaving him dazed. "I can't—"
"Do this?" you ask, your lips hovering over his, pulling at the fringes of his restraint.
"No... I mean, I can't believe I'm kissing you." He stumbles over his words, clearly in awe. "I love you."
It's your turn to be taken aback. "Woah, what?"
"I mean, I've loved your work," he stammers. "You inspire me as an actor, you know. I've watched you since your early days. You're fucking amazing."
"Mmm." When he allows his hand to drift along your spine, you ask, "Have you ever... fantasized about... sleeping with me?"
"I... I don't—"
"I'm used to it. Being looked at. Thought of, in that way." There's a tinge of raw sensitivity in your admission, letting him see the real you.
Ewan wants more of it. After just a taste of who you are underneath the surface, he is left craving the rest. "Then I think you know my answer," he says.
You let out a low hum. "I know."
"You're such a goddamn liability," he murmurs, managing to sound equal parts affectionate and exasperated.
"I know that too. Come with me," you say, your tone suddenly commanding. You grab his hand, lacing your fingers through his, and tug him towards the pavilion. He follows without a shred of hesitation, his heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst out of his chest.
The two of you weave through the edges of the party, slipping past clusters of inebriated guests until you find yourself in the dimly lit, unattended coatroom. The small space is as luxurious as the rest of the venue, the perfect backdrop for the tension threatening to explode.
The moment the lock on the door clicks shut, Ewan's restraint snaps like a taut wire. His hands cradle your face as he initiates the kiss this time, his hunger for you bleeding through every press of his lips.
The rest of the party fades away, and there is only you. He didn't care about any of it anyway.
"You are so fucking hot," he groans into the kiss. "I can't believe this is happening."
"Believe it, handsome," you purr, sliding your hands down the material of his coat.
"Are you sure about this?" His question comes out as a whisper, his forehead resting against yours, his cigarette-scented breath fanning your face.
"Ewan," you say, "get on with it before they all notice we've been gone too long."
He huffs out a nervous laugh. "The way you talk makes me think you wouldn't give a shit."
"No, I wouldn't," you confirm, your grin wicked. "They should fucking wait for us."
"You have an attitude, princess," he mutters, his fingers digging into your exposed back.
"Been told I have a big head," you joke.
He hums, before dropping a line that floors you. "Bet you have a sweet pussy, too."
Your eyes flash with amusement, drawing closer until your lips graze his Dior earring. "Wanna find out?"
"Fuckin' hell," his breath shudders out of him, "yes... yes... yes." He knew it might make him come across as desperate, as a damn simp, but he could not bring himself to give a single flying fuck. Not when you perch atop the gleaming marble edge of the table, and spread each leg out to the side, tantalisingly slow. A precious flower to be plucked, right there for the taking.
For him. He feels unworthy. He has half a mind to check the room for cameras—maybe this is all a prank. But what a lascivious, cruel prank that would be.
Is this some twisted initiation ritual into the Hollywood elite?
You trail a smooth, manicured finger along his jawline, igniting a shiver that ripples down his spine. His nerves come alive under your touch, each one crackling with electric anticipation, flipping a switch deep within him directly connected to his cock.
As he has revered you as a goddess on the silver screen all these years, he now reveres you in reality, sinking to his knees.
"Don't keep me waiting," you whisper silkily.
Ewan takes a steadying breath, before diving in. His hands lift the smooth material of your dress, revealing the sacred area between your legs, barely covered in a white sliver of a thong. You might as well have come with no underwear.
The coat suddenly feels too constricting, so he unbuttons it with a sharp motion, letting the heavy garment slide to the floor. But almost immediately, a flicker of concern crosses his face. The Dior number is a rental, and if it gets damaged, it won't be his head on the block—it'll be Davey's. With a hint of sheepishness, he retrieves it, carefully draping it over the back of an upholstered chair.
You notice the gesture, subtle but telling. He doesn’t quite belong to your world—or perhaps he does, but he moves through it without succumbing to its superficial trappings. Your friend Timothée wouldn’t have spared the coat a second glance, long since desensitized to the weight of designer labels.
But Ewan? He handles it all with a kind of quiet reverence, as if even in a borrowed piece of luxury, he remains grounded in something real.
And it only intensifies your desire for him.
There's a wanton intrigue in your eyes as you take in the bareness of his torso. His muscles are defined, but not in the off-putting gym rat kind of way. Instead, there's a natural leanness to his form—a testament to a body honed not for vanity, but for purpose.
Kneeling before you, eyes bright with awe, he gets right down to work. He pushes the fabric of your dress higher, out of his way, and you help him along, your fist bunching the skirt to one side.
"God, you're... perfect," he whispers. His palms rest on your thighs, and when his lips press to the sensitive skin just above your knee, you let out an involuntary sound that draws a low groan from his throat.
"Ewan," you breathe impatiently, unable to conceal your need for him. But he doesn't rush, dragging his mouth higher, trailing kisses along your inner thigh, his eyes fluttering closed as he savours the sensation.
He pauses just before pulling down the waistband of your thong, glancing up at you with wide, darkened eyes. "Tell me if I'm... if I'm doing too much," he says, almost shyly.
"You're not doing enough," you reply. "Keep going."
So he does. He slides the white lace down your ankles, then presses his mouth to your core, his tongue pushing between your folds with a fervour that makes your head fall back. His guttural moan is muffled as he goes down on you, the vibration of it causing heat to pool in your lower belly. You press the flat stem of your heel to the back of his head, drawing him closer.
"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp aloud, your hips rolling instinctively against his mouth as he works you over. He licks you, sloppy and desperate, his inexperience showing but somehow making it even better. He's so determined to give you pleasure, so eager to make you come undone, that he doesn't care about anything else.
He doesn't care about acting like a starved animal as he sucks on your pussy. All Ewan wishes for, in that very moment, is that you cum all over him—the sweet substance flooding his tongue, dripping down his chin, far more sumptuous than everything they have on offer in the party's banquet.
He's seen you fake an orgasm for a scene before, but this is real.
His tongue flicks over your bud, and when you cry out, he doubles his efforts. He wraps his lips around the aching nub to suck gently, then slides a finger into you, curling it just right. Adding another, he increases the pace, his fingertips pulsing into that damned spot within your walls each time.
The defined bridge of his nose is flush against your clit as he moves, augmenting your pleasure. The whole thing is messy, unrefined, and so damn good that it has you teetering on the edge in no time.
Your thighs quiver around his head, and when your orgasm crashes over you, you clamp a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. Ewan keeps going, his tongue and fingers refusing to let up, coaxing every last shudder from you until you're trembling and gasping for air.
"Holy. Shit." You lean back on your elbows to recuperate as white spots flood your vision.
"Did I... was that... was that good?" he asks with his lips shiny and swollen, practically yearning for your approval.
"Yeah," you manage, but it escapes your lips as a small, incoherent sigh.
"Hmm? What? What was that... baby?"
Baby, he says. But with the way, he's being so sweet, so dumbstruck, he's certainly the baby in this dynamic.
"More," you give him a better answer, "C'mere." You pull him up to your level, tasting yourself on his lips. Leveraging your legs around his waist, you keep him caged in. The outline of his hardened cock presses against your pelvis, and when you grind into him, his teeth clamp down on your bottom lip.
"Aghhh, hey!"
"Shit, I'm sorry—"
"It's okay," you whisper, not letting him pull away. "I liked it. And I want more."
"Anything, baby," he promises, and the raw honesty in his tone makes your chest tighten. "Anything you want. I'll—fuck—I'll give it to you. I'm all yours."
You nod once, before he claims your lips again in a bruising kiss. One of the thin straps of your dress falls from your shoulder, and he visibly shivers in excitement at the sight of your exposed breast.
"Fuck," he sighs, his hand coming up almost hesitantly to cup you. His thumb brushes over your nipple, as he takes you in with lust-clouded eyes. He leans down and captures the flesh with his mouth, his tongue swirling around your tender peak until you're left squirming.
You reach for him, fumbling with his belt and his zipper, and he helps you, his movements even more hurried and uncoordinated than yours.
When he frees himself, you can't help but stare—his cock is long and hard, already slick with precum. The sight makes your mouth water, and when you drag your gaze back up to his face, you find him watching you, his expression somewhere between bashful and utterly wrecked.
Ewan's hair, once gelled to immaculate perfection, now lies in disarray. He'll need to borrow your comb before he dares rejoin the party. The lower half of his face bears the unmistakable traces of cum and smudged rouge, a vivid testament to the chaotic indulgences of the evening. And somewhere in the frenzy of fumbling and fondling, his clip-on Dior earring has gone astray. He feels the absence keenly, like a phantom limb, yet he resigns himself to the loss—for now, it's a dilemma best left for another moment.
"You're staring," he says, an uneasy laugh escaping him, but there's heat in his gaze, a newfound confidence grounding his nerves.
"Because I like what I see," you reply.
"Tell me if this is too much," he says, his anxiety resurfacing through the haze of lust. It's endearing—so much so that you can't help but smile.
"Ewan," you say firmly. "I want everything."
He groans faintly as he lines himself up. Carefully, he pushes into you, and the stretch is exquisite, sending a shiver rippling up your spine. You both moan, the sound echoing in the quiet of the room. He buries himself to the hilt, pausing to catch his breath, his fingers digging into your hips.
"Fuck, oh fuck," he murmurs, looking down at where your bodies meet. "Your pussy feels so good."
The compliment makes you feel something you can't pinpoint, but there’s no time to dwell on it. He starts to move, his thrusts tentative at first, testing the waters. But the whorish mewls spilling from your lips spur him on, and soon, he finds a rhythm—deep, steady, and just rough enough to leave you begging for more.
"Fuck, Ewan," you gasp, your nails scraping lightly against his back. "Yeah... just like that."
Your words are the only encouragement he needs. His pace quickens, and his grip on you tightens as if he's about to confess that he wants to own you. He's already yours, so it's only fair, isn't it?
He's spent years fantasizing about how your pussy would feel, squeezing his cock like a goddamn vice, and he's happy to find out that his imagination is nothing compared to the real thing.
"So sexy, baby," he mutters, his voice muffled as he nips at your neck. "Better than I ever—" He cuts himself off with a groan, his teeth grazing your skin.
You raise your legs higher up his torso to draw him deeper. The angle sends a bolt of pleasure through you, and your moans grow louder despite your attempts to keep quiet.
Then, suddenly, the doorknob rattles.
Both of you freeze, Ewan still buried deep inside your fleshy walls, his eyes wide with panic. The sound of a familiar voice seeps through the door, followed by a frustrated sigh.
"Where the hell did I leave my phone?" It's your friend, Florence Pugh. Her voice is unmistakable, and the realisation makes your stomach drop.
Ewan’s lips form a silent oh my God. You bite back a laugh, pressing a hand over your mouth as Florence jiggles the doorknob again.
"Seriously?" she mutters. "Locked? For fuck's sake."
You hear her footsteps retreat, her voice fading as she calls out to someone else. "Have you seen my phone? I swear I left it out here."
The moment the coast is clear, you both exhale in unison, the tension breaking into a mix of laughter and relief. Ewan drops his forehead to your shoulder, shaking his head. "This is insane," he whispers, though he doesn't feel a single ounce of regret.
"You're the one who couldn't keep it in his pants," you tease, rolling your hips slightly to remind him of your still-connected bodies.
His response is a low growl, and he resumes his thrusts, harder this time, filled with unfiltered desire. The near-miss only seems to have fueled him, the snap of his hips more frantic, more intense. The sound of your bodies colliding fills the room—mumbled curses, breathless moans, sticky slapping of flesh meeting flesh.
"God, you're incredible," he says, his voice strained. "I can't get enough of you."
You feel the coil in your belly tightening again, the pressure building with each thrust. Your delicate fingers dig into his shoulders, and he groans at the sensation, his cock twitching deep inside you. His rhythm falters for only a second before he recovers.
"Ewan," you gasp, your voice breaking. "I'm so close��don't stop."
"Come for me, baby," he says, his hand slipping between your bodies to find your clit. It sends you spiraling, your climax crashing over you like a tidal wave. You cry out, your body tensing and shuddering beneath him as he continues to move, chasing his own release.
He reaches up and twists your nipple, the sharp sensation making you gasp just before he comes. The sight of you—head thrown back, breast bouncing free from your designer gown, your smudged red lips parted in bliss—drives him to the brink. With a strangled growl, he slams into you one final time. His body shakes as he spills inside you, the warmth of his release flooding you completely. You both tremble in the aftermath, caught in the intensity of the moment, gasping for air, drenched in sweat and tangled in raw desire.
You blink lazily at him, a beautiful mess of tousled hair and make-up in dire need of a retouch. "Still think I'm a liability?" you ask.
"Oh, absolutely. But one worth keeping anyway."
Ewan sits in his dimly lit London apartment, the glow of his phone the only other source of light in the room. A half-empty bottle of Guinness sits forgotten on his coffee table. The screen displays your Instagram profile—your impossibly gorgeous face beaming at him from your latest post, which happens to be a professional photograph of you at the GQ party.
His finger hovers above the Follow button like it's the trigger of a detonator.
His newly-created account is laughably barren—no posts, no followers, no following. Just a desperate, last-ditch attempt to tether himself back to you, even if only digitally.
Ewan had always sworn off social media, claiming it wasn't his style, that he preferred the privacy and the mystique. Yet, here he is, spiraling, drunk on the memory of you and of that night.
The coatroom had been a blur. The attendant had returned far too soon, a flurry of apologies as Florence appeared behind her, claiming her phone from her coat pocket with a triumphant smirk.
Ewan remembers how Florence had tugged you aside, your laughter ringing out as she swiped her thumb across your lips, erasing the evidence of that kiss—or maybe just rearranging it. You had been whisked away to the ladies' room, leaving him standing there, disheveled, speechless, and utterly entranced. He hadn't even managed to get your number.
It's been days since, but he still feels the ghost of your touch, the echo of your moans, the scent of you on his skin. He's tried to focus, tried to pick up his scripts, but his mind keeps replaying the way you looked as you came.
He has even rewatched a film of yours, with special attention paid to a particular love scene. Watching it over and over, repeatedly going back to the timestamp where you're seen riding your male costar.
He felt aroused watching you. Also, incredibly fucking jealous.
"Pathetic," he mutters to himself, his finger still hovering. His thumb twitches, brushing the screen, but before he can commit to his descent into full-blown thirst, his phone buzzes violently, the vibration startling him into dropping it onto the couch.
"Shit." He snatches it back up, squinting at the screen. It's a call from his agent.
"Ewan," comes the voice on the other end, crisp and faintly incredulous. "What the hell did you do at that party?"
His heart stops for a beat. "Uh... what?"
"The party. The GQ one. The one where you disappeared for, what, an hour? Maybe more?"
Ewan's brain scrambles. "I don't—I mean, I just mingled. Like you suggested,” he stammers, his voice cracking slightly. "Why?"
"Because," the agent says, drawing out the word like it's a prize reveal, "you've been shortlisted for a chemistry test next week."
"A chemistry test?" Ewan echoes, blinking. "For what?"
"For her film," his agent says, emphasizing the pronoun like it's blasphemous not to know who you are. "It's one of those secret big-budget Hollywood projects only top actors are getting called for. We didn't submit you because—well, not to be rude, but you're not exactly on their radar for that level yet."
Ewan's heart starts pounding. He sits up straighter, gripping the phone tighter. "Wait, wait. What film? Who's—who's her?"
But he already knows the answer.
His agent drops your name, exasperated now. "Apparently she petitioned for you, Ewan. Said you'd be perfect. So what did you do?”
Ewan is stunned into silence. He leans back against the couch, a slow grin spreading across his face as the pieces click into place. You. You'd done this. You’d reached out and used your pull to bring him into your orbit again.
"What did I do?" he repeats. "Oh, nothing much. Just... made an impression."
"Well, whatever it was, it worked. Chemistry tests are next week in L.A. They'll send over the details. And Ewan," the agent pauses, lowering their voice slightly, "don't screw this up. This is huge."
"I won't," Ewan says, his tone confident now. "I promise."
When the call ends, he stares at his phone for a long moment, the grin still lingering. He glances back at your Instagram profile, his thumb poised over the Follow button again. Then he snorts, tossing the phone onto the cushion beside him.
"What's the point?” he mutters to himself, his grin turning into a full-on self-satisfied smirk. "I'll see you soon enough."
He reaches for the bottle of Guinness instead, lifting it in a silent toast to fate—or whatever it is that's tied you two together.
Something came out of all that mingling after all.
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#do me no good#ewan mitchell imagine#ewan mitchell#ewan mitchell x reader#ewan mitchell smut#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#hotd
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that spencer x bombshell one you just posted has me giggling and kicking my feet I think I’m in love with YOU 🫵
Now I’m thinking of spencer x bombshell where the team starts to not view reid as unwillingly tortured by her flirting. Like maybe Morgan makes a comment to reid about something he does and is like “don’t torture the poor girl” and he’s like oh shit I’M the one torturing too now?
im in love with YOU !! for you, ty for requesting ♡ fem
“Difficult,” you say, resting your head on the table.
“I know.” Spencer wiggles his pen back and forth between two fingers, thinking hard. This case is proving to be indecipherable. None of the details want to add up, and no clear profile geographical or otherwise appears.
“Useless.”
“Who, me or you?”
“Us.” You sigh morosely. “Mostly me.”
You're not being serious. Spencer huffs a soft laugh and continues to turn the details over in his head. You open your notebook and scratch down a couple of sentences with a pen, a visual thinker. Your mind map turns to a second iteration and then a third. You can't connect the dots because they're too far apart from each other; Spencer can't do it either. Not alone.
He scoots his chair as close to yours as possible, your knees touching, his elbow in your side. “Can I look?” he asks.
“Of course you can. Sorry about my handwriting.”
He shakes his head. Your handwriting is perhaps the only thing about you he wouldn't say was one hundred percent perfect. You can't control it like other things. It is perfect, in a way, because it's yours, but you've been writing quickly and he struggles to make out the occasional letter.
He leans in toward the page. “What's this word?” he asks.
You lean in to see it. “Coruscated.”
“The swimming pool?” he asks, lifting his face to yours. You're closer now, and beautiful like this. He can see the powder under your eyes, the lines in your irises, the slight fading of your lipstick at the corners of your mouth. There's an eyelash on your cheek. He lifts a hand to wipe it away. “What's so important about that?”
“It reminded me of something…” You pause as he touches your face. “Something…” Your voice lilts up in question, half-shudder.
“Eyelash,” he explains, blowing it off of his finger.
“Right,” you say, eyes oddly wide and soft at once, your eyebrows lifted at the starts.
“You okay?”
“Is she okay? Reid, you're torturing the poor girl. Give her some air,” Morgan says with a chuckle.
Spencer leans backwards in surprise, no idea what Morgan could possibly mean. Your eyes relax as you regain some personal space, your hands coming together loosely in your lap. You laugh weakly.
Spencer looks you up and down. He's torturing you? That doesn't make sense. For as long as you've known one another, the team has joked that your flirty ways and feminine wiles are too much for Spencer to handle. You once gave him an apology he didn't want, worried you actually were hurting him by being your playful self, and he'd set that straight immediately. You don't torture him. It's a lot of feelings to be doted on so much by you, and painful isn't one of them. Overwhelming, sometimes, and exciting, sure.
He never realised he had the power to overwhelm you. Not until that moment. You offer a funny smile far from your usual smirk and try to steamroll Morgan's claim. “Guess I should've made a wish.”
“What would you wish for?” Spencer asks quietly.
You still. Morgan shakes his head in disapproval, but he laughs again and stands up. “I think they'd call that a taste of your own medicine, sweetheart,” he says to you.
You meet Spencer's eye. “I think they would,” you say bashfully.
For three blissful seconds, Spencer enjoys the reality of having made you flustered. You, gorgeous, confident you, left flushed and a little daunted by his casual actions and simple (maybe slightly flirtatious) questioning. But then he remembers how much he likes you and pushes it away.
“Sorry,” he says, plastering a smile over uncertain lips, “I didn't mean to do that.”
“No, it's okay.”
He turns to your notes, but gives you a look from the side. “I hope you wished for someone to solve the case. We're never getting anywhere like this.”
“Are you saying you can't?” You rest your chin in your hand. “And here I thought you were more than a pretty face.”
You have a quick recovery rate, evidently.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader
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𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 - 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐧
bf!sunghoonx gf!reader (co-worker au!)
genre: smut, MDNI!
warnings: slightly jealous!hoon, marking, slight hair pulling, fingering, oral (f. receiving), cum eating, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), semi public sex? (in the office's storage room lol), cumming inside, overstimulation, sunghoon calls reader angel (duh) and good girl + lmk if i missed anything!!
word count: 1.9k
a/n: y'all remember when i said after party will be the first and last time i write smut? apparently, i lied
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mature content under cut, minors do NOT interact!
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
"what the fuck was that?" sunghoon asked once he slammed the door behind you. the sound made you flinch, yet you couldn't help but smile slightly.
"what was what?" you asked, your voice sweet like honey as you looked up at him with feigned innocence.
he gritted his teeth. "you know damn well what," he locked the door and turned back to you, "what were you doing in there?"
you bit your lip slightly, torn between amusement over how worked up he'd gotten and anticipation of what would follow if only you pushed him further.
"closing the deal you would have missed otherwise, because you were busy giving mr choi death glares," you said ever so sweetly, taking a step towards him, so close your chest almost touched his, but not quite.
you looked up at him and saw his jaw twitching, something that always happened when he was mad or upset. it wasn't only about his ego – he would have been able to close the deal, 100%. it was that mr choi was downright flirting with you for the entirety of the meeting.
"you didn't have to flirt back for a stupid deal," he protested. his hands found your hips, pulling you closer and closing the last bit of distance between you. you felt the heat of sunghoon's body against yours, not sure if it had been from the stress of the meeting or the anger he'd built up during that.
"leaving the fucker thinking he'd have a chance," he murmured, digging his fingertips into your skin almost possessively.
there was something about the rawness in his voice and the way he kept you close that made you want to push his buttons even further, although you knew you shouldn't.
"jealous?" you asked, a little bolder, as you brought one hand up to softly grab and toy with his tie. "i wasn't flirting, i was being nice."
"unnecessarily so," he added, looking down at his tie in your hand.
"you were the one who didn't want to make us public," you teased, pulling him down by his tie to brush your lips just slightly against his.
sunghoon's annoyed groan was muffled when one of his hands moved up to cup the back of your neck, making sure you wouldn't leave. he leaned down a little more to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue over your bottom lip. you opened your mouth, but he pulled back ever so slightly, to reply.
"doesn't mean you get to be flirty," he kissed you again, this time a bit harder, a bit less patient. "you're still mine."
the possessiveness in his voice and the roughness in his touch settled between your legs, sending fresh waves of heat through your body with each second that passed.
"am i?" you challenged between kisses. sunghoon grabbed your hip tighter and walked until your back hit the small shelf in the back of the tiny room. it held binders and a pile of loose files on top of it. without breaking the kiss, he carelessly shoved the files aside, landing them on the floor, and grabbed the back of your thighs to lift you up and sit you down on the shelf.
only then, sunghoon pulled back, a string of saliva connecting your lips from how messy your kiss had been. he placed his hands on your thighs, forcing your legs open, which caused your skirt to ride up slightly, and stepped between them – so close you could feel his already hardening cock against your clothed core.
"you are," he replied, leaning down to kiss your neck. his hands found their way to your hips again, holding you tightly as his kisses turned into nibbles and bites.
your eyes fluttered shut and you placed your hands on sunghoon's shoulders, digging your fingers into his shirt whenever he found the spots he'd grown familiar with by now.
"made it clear for everyone," he said satisfied after licking over another mark he'd just left, pulling back slightly to admire the mess of hickeys and bite marks all over your neck.
"sunghoon," you said, your voice a little breathless, as you pulled him closer again, bucking your hips up just slightly to meet his own.
he groaned lowly at the contact, sliding your skirt up fully so it rested around your waist and pulled you against his crotch again. your breath hitched, your hands dropping from his shoulders to his hips where you started to open his belt, but he grabbed your wrists to stop you.
you opened your mouth to protest, but quickly closed it again when sunghoon kneeled down in front of you, coming to eye level with your cunt. he slid your soaked underwear down your legs and shoved it into the back pocket of his pants.
"so wet for me and i barely even touched you," he remarked, looking up with a smug grin for a second, before burying his face between your thighs and licking one long stripe along your wet folds without further warning.
your eyes fluttered shut again, your hands automatically finding their way to his hair. he closed his lips around your clit, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it again with a satisfied hum.
"shit, angel, you taste so fucking sweet," he mumbled, his words muffled by your cunt. he alternated between soft kitten licks against your folds and clit and pushing his tongue past your lips into your drenched cunt.
he was hard, painfully so, but he was determined to make you cum before he'd even think about himself. sunghoon loved the taste of you. he could eat you out for hours if you let him, and he'd die a happy man if only it was with his face between your thighs.
you slightly scratched his scalp, pulling on his hair to pull his face closer into your heat, and letting out a choked moan when his nose bumped against your clit.
you could feel sunghoon's lips curling up into a smile. "that's right, angel, let everyone know who you belong to," he slurred before focusing his tongue on your clit again and placing a finger on your entrance, slowly pushing it inside.
"f-fuck, sunghoon," you cried out as he curled his finger just in the right spot, "please"
sunghoon suppressed another grin, adding a second finger and picking up the pace.
"cum for me like a good girl."
it only took the demanding tone in his deep voice to let the knot in your stomach snap – to come undone right on his fingers, while his tongue kept circling around your clit. he pumped his fingers in and out a few more times, helping you ride out your orgasm, before pulling them out, standing up and holding them up to your mouth.
your cheeks flushed, but you parted your lips and swirled your tongue around his fingers once he'd placed them in your mouth, tasting your own release.
sunghoon's pants tightened uncomfortably more at the sight – you looking up at him with those innocent eyes as if you weren't sucking your own cum off his fingers after he'd eaten you out in the office's storage room.
you reached for his belt again and this time he let you open it. you unbottoned his pants and opened the zipper, making sure to trace your fingers along his clothed hardness.
you were about to slide off the shelf, ready to return the favor to your boyfriend, but sunghoon placed his hands on your hips again, stopping you.
he pulled down his pants and boxers just enough to free his aching cock, painfully hard and leaking precum from the tip.
you bit your lips, carefully reaching to touch him, curling your fingers around his length and softly sliding your thumb over his slit. sunghoon shivered under your touch, hissing a curse and throwing his head back a little as you began to pump his shaft up and down.
"angel, i– fuck, stop," he struggled, but gripped your hand when you didn't obey. instead, he brought his tip to your soaked cunt, teasing along your folds just enough to make both of you whimper, before he aligned himself with your entrance and pushed in fully without another thought.
you gasped at the sudden stretch, your hand flying over your mouth to muffle your sounds. sunghoon gave you some moments to adjust to his size before starting to move when you gave him a little nod. his thrusts were painfully slow, letting you feel every inch, but it felt equally as intimate.
"hoon," you whispered, not trusting your voice.
he lowered his head and rested his forehead against yours. "yes, angel?"
all your boldness was gone and you felt almost too shy to ask for more, so you just bucked up your hips, hoping he'd understand.
"shy suddenly?" he asked with a grin, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, but still complying.
his thrusts turned faster, harsher, his tip kissing your cervix each time. you tried to move against him, meeting his thrusts, but sunghoon's hands were so strongly holding onto your hips that you couldn't move – that it would for sure leave marks.
you gripped his shoulders for support again, and buried your face in the crook of his neck in an attempt to dampen the moans that fell from your lips uncontrollably by now.
but your sweet sounds only spurred him to thrust harder, deeper – anything it took to hear his name roll off your tongue like a mantra.
"s-sunghon, i– nghh, close," was all you managed to say as you could feel your second orgasm approaching faster than ever.
his hands left your hips, one of them grabbed your hair and yanked your head back, while the other found its way between your bodies, drawing figure eights around your clit. your eyes fluttered shut, but you forced them open when you felt a light tug on your hair.
"look at me when you cum," sunghoon demanded, his gaze so dark that you did your best to keep your eyes open as the waves of your orgasm rushed over you.
the sight of you cumming, your high pitched moans, and the way your walls clenched around him would have been enough to trigger sunghoon's climax too, but he held back, not wanting to stop just yet.
he kept fucking into you at the same pace, the pleasure of your orgasm starting to turn into pain.
"hoon," you whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders deeper, "too– too much"
sunghoon lowered his head to give you a soft kiss that starkly contrasted the intensity of his pounding. "just a little longer, angel," he whispered, "you'll be a good girl and take it, right?"
you nodded, closed your eyes, and it took only a few more thrusts until you felt his cock twitch inside you. sunghoon came with a low groan, painting your walls white.
he pulled you against him, your head resting on his chest, and held you close to his body until both of your heartbeats steadied and you caught your breaths. he slowly pulled out, watching as the mixture of yours and his cum dripped down on the shelf, before looking up at you again.
"you okay?" he asked softly and leaned in to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.
you only nodded, not yet trusting yourself to speak.
"good. then turn around and bend over for me."
‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙·̩̩̥͙*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊
© dazzlingjaeyun, 2024. please do not copy.
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Yuta and a 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 reader who has a habit of making nsfw jokes at any given time..?
SUPER FREAKY GIRL: YUTA OKKOTSU
yuta okkotsu loves having you as his girlfriend, but there is nothing that would prepare yuta from this side of you— making everything sensual; you just love having your shy boyfriend flustered and blushing, just overall giving him a hard time. . . and a boner.
w/c: 5.7k
warning : lots and lots of suggestive conversation, fluff.
𝜗𝜚 . . . i'm having too much fun writing this one because yuuta is one of my favorites jjk's character.
yuuta okkotsu is head over heels for you. as your boyfriend, he treasures the moments you share and finds immense joy in every little aspect of your relationship. he loves the way you look at him, how you laugh at his jokes, and the tenderness of your touch. however, there's a unique side to your dynamic that always keeps him on his toes and completely off guard.
you have an incredible talent for dropping cheeky, flirtatious comments at the most unexpected moments. whether you're out with friends, in a casual setting, or sharing a quiet evening alone, you never miss an opportunity to tease him with your playful remarks. it doesn't matter if you're surrounded by people or if it's just the two of you—your provocative comments come effortlessly, catching him by surprise every single time.
yuuta finds himself blushing and stumbling over his words, his usually composed demeanor melting away under your mischievous influence. the way you playfully provoke him, turning his calm and collected nature into a flustered mess, is something he can't quite get used to, even though he adores it. your comments add a layer of excitement and unpredictability to your relationship, making every interaction with you both exhilarating and endearing. It’s a playful dance that keeps your connection vibrant and full of sparks, and yuuta wouldn’t have it any other way.
just like that moment, you and yuuta were deep into your combat training at the usual training ground, along with your friends. as you both took a brief pause to catch your breath, you decided to lighten the mood with a flirty comment.
with a playful smirk, you said, “you know, yuuta, if you keep dodging my attacks like that, i might just have to find another way to catch your attention. should i flash you some tits?”
yuuta, slightly flustered and caught off guard, tried to maintain his composure but ended up stumbling over his own feet, falling to the ground with a surprised laugh. his cheeks flushed a soft pink as he looked up at you, his usual calm demeanor giving way to a charmingly embarrassed smile.
yuuta's reaction was absolutely adorable, and you couldn't help but feel a hint of satisfaction that you'd managed to break through his otherwise calm demeanor. he chuckled softly as he attempted to pick himself up from the ground, still wearing that endearing blush on his face.
“that's— ah. . .”
his voice was shaky, a mixture of surprise and embarrassment. he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, but it was clear that your words had made his heart skip a beat or two.
“i-i wouldn't... mind— uh. . .”
and don't forget the other day when you and yuuta were hanging out with friends in inumaki’s room, the group chatting and laughing together. yuuta was seated on the floor beside you, comfortably leaning against the wall as he engaged in conversation with his friends. you, sitting next to him, were enjoying the relaxed atmosphere and the easy camaraderie.
as the conversation flowed around you, you decided to add a bit of playful mischief to the mix. without drawing attention, you let your hand slide down and gently squeeze yuuta's thigh. his eyes widened slightly, and he momentarily faltered in his conversation, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.
yuuta tried to maintain his composure, but the warmth of your touch and the unexpected squeeze made him shift uncomfortably. his friends, too engrossed in their discussions, didn’t notice the subtle exchange. you couldn't help but smile at his reaction, enjoying the way your simple gesture made him blush and fidget while trying to keep up with the conversation.
when your friends don't notice, you lean closer, “have you been working out with gojo, babe?” you smile at him, your sweet, sweet, innocent smile. “it feels like your thighs have gotten more muscle than before,” you give his thigh another squeeze. “can i make a mess on your thigh?” you whisper in his ear, slightly giving it a kiss.
you and your dirty jokes. . .
you were spending a cozy evening in yuuta okkotsu’s dorm room. the room was softly lit, creating a warm and intimate atmosphere. you were lying on your stomach on his bed, deeply focused on your lego puzzle as you assembled the pieces with meticulous care. meanwhile, yuuta sat on the sofa near the bed, engrossed in a book, his gentle presence adding to the comfort of the night.
every now and then, you glanced over at yuuta, admiring the way he seemed completely absorbed in his reading, his eyes scanning the pages with a look of serene concentration. the quiet of the room was punctuated only by the soft rustle of pages and the occasional click of lego pieces snapping into place.
you couldn’t resist taking advantage of the peaceful moment to tease him a little. with a playful smirk, you glanced up and called out, “babe, do you have a driver's license?” you ask him. yuuta looked up from his book, a hint of surprise on his face at the unexpected question. he blinked a few times, considering the question before replying.
“a... driver's license? yeah, i do. i got it a year ago. why do you ask?” his expression was equal parts confusion and curiosity, and he marked his page before fully turning his attention towards you. the lamplight cast a soft glow over his features, making his dark eyes seem even more intense as he looked at you, waiting for your response.
you smile, looking over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend, “do you think i need a driver's license, too, to ride you?” yuuta's face instantly turns a deep shade of scarlet, and he splutters wordlessly, clearly caught off guard by your suggestive comment. his heart rate quickens, and it's clear that your words have had quite the effect on him.
he swallows hard, attempting to regain his composure as he struggles to find a suitable response to your question. after a moment, he manages to blurt out a response, his voice shaky and his eyes wide with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal.
“y-you— uh, i mean, n-no, you don't. . .”
his cheeks were flushed, and he shifted nervously on the sofa, his heart still racing from your playful comment. he couldn't help but feel flustered by your boldness, but at the same time, he found your confidence and assertiveness incredibly attractive. clearing his throat, he tried to respond in a more composed manner, attempting to hide the effect your words had on him.
“no, baby... y-you don't need a d-driver's license to...” he stumbled over his words, unable to finish the sentence as his mind wandered to the possible implications. yuuta's brain is short-circuited, his thoughts overwhelmed by the sudden fantasy that had filled his mind. he flushed an even deeper shade of red, his eyes widening in surprise as his imagination ran wild for a moment. he clenched his jaw, trying to compose himself, but he couldn't shake off the effect your words had on him.
he swallowed hard, his fingers gripping the edge of the sofa as he tried to collect his thoughts. “baby, that's... um... t-that's not fair...” he groaned, almost whining.
you chuckled, amused by how easily your boyfriend became a blushing mess. you push yourself away from the comfort of his bed to walk over him. instinctively, yuuta opens his arms, gladly and warmly welcoming you to his lap.
“what's not fair? i'm just asking you a question,” you look down at him. yuuta's arms automatically wrap around you as you settle in his lap, pulling you closer to him. the warmth of his embrace provides a sense of comfort and intimacy, and he gazes up at you with a mix of slight embarrassment and affection.
“you know what's not fair,” he mutters, his voice still faintly hoarse from the earlier flustered response. he lets out a soft chuckle, his cheeks still tinged with a hint of pink. his eyes fix on yours, a slight pout on his lips as he pretends to be indignant.
“you're playing with my heart,” yuuta leaned back into the sofa, pulling you even closer against his chest as he continued to pout slightly. despite his feigned indignation, there was a hint of playfulness in his eyes, a glimmer of enjoyment in the way he reacted to your teasing.
his arms wrapped around your waist, his touch firm and warm. he could feel your body pressed against him, and the closeness only heightened the intimacy between you. his heart raced in his chest, the sound of it like a gentle thrum against your skin.
“you're being mean,” he accused, his voice soft and somewhat teasing. yuuta's grip on your waist tightened slightly, the playful pout still on his lips. he looked up at you with the cutest puppy dog eyes, his face the picture of exaggerated disappointment, but there was a hint of mischief behind his gaze.
he let out a soft sigh, his voice a playful grumble as he continued his act of indignation. “you're toying with my emotions... it's not fair. i can't handle it when you say things like that.”
yuuta's eyes never left yours, holding your gaze with a mixture of playful affection and mock frustration. he maintained his pout, his lips pressed together in a fake frown as he continued to grumble about your behavior.
he shifted slightly underneath you, causing your hips to press against his crotch, eliciting a sharp inhale from him as he seemed to be struggling to keep up with the charade. his hands moved to grip your hips, his fingers pressing gently into your skin as if to silently urge you to stop teasing him. “i'm sorry baby, didn't mean to,” you murmur, voice so low yuuta is afraid it reaches his crotch, especially with that little smile of yours. but knowing your nature, he knows you didn't feel sorry at all, not even a wee.
yuuta swallows hard, your sultry voice sending a shiver down his spine and straight to his core. despite your mock apology, he can tell from the look in your eyes that you're not even remotely sorry at all. he takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure as your words and your body pressed against him have an undeniable effect on him. but he plays along, feigning a pout as he speaks in a slightly breathless voice.
“you're not sorry. you're a tease.”
yuuta's words were barely a murmur as he struggled to rein in the desires growing within him. he shifted slightly, his grip on your hips becoming more firm. his body tensed beneath you, his heart hammering in his chest as he tried to maintain his composure. yet, despite his attempts to keep his cool, he couldn't help but find your teasing behavior incredibly tantalizing. the way you made his body respond so intensely to your every word and touch was both maddening and irresistible.
“no, i mean it, i'm really sorry,” you again, murmur softly. your hands are moving around, caressing yuuta's bare chest. now he kind of regrets wearing nothing but a black boxer when you are around.
yuuta's breath hitches as your fingers caress his bare chest, the sensation sending a rush of heat through his body. he bites his lip, trying to maintain his composure as your touch ignites a fire within him. he knows he's fighting a losing battle, but he still tries to keep up his act of feigned disappointment.
“you— ah. . . you really don't seem like you're sorry,” he replies as softly as he can, his voice sounding a little more huskier than usual. you laugh a little before shaking your head, “no, not at all.” slowly you move your hips— your palm puts pressure on his chest.
yuuta's eyes widen slightly as you move your hips, your touch causing a sharp intake of breath to escape from his lips. the pressure of your palm on his chest combined with your seductive movements makes his heart race even faster, his chest rising and falling more rapidly as his restraint begins to falter.
“you... tease,” he whispers under his breath, his voice laced with a mix of frustration and undeniable desire. his hands grip your hips a bit tighter as he struggles to keep control of his own body's reactions. yuuta's body trembles involuntarily as you move against him, the friction between your bodies causing him to bite back a moan.
his eyes are fixed on yours, his expression now a mix of pleading and arousal. he wants you, desperately, but he knows you're enjoying this little game of tease and denial. he swallows hard, his voice strained as he speaks. “you, you're driving me crazy teasing me like this.”
suddenly, you stop moving, and he looks at you confused, eyebrows knitting together the moment his body is covered with cold nothing.
“i'm hungry,” you said. getting up from his lap and walking over to your phone. yuuta was too stunned to speak, he looked at you with eyes wide open, having his brain working twice as hard to process what the fuck is just happened— you standing near his bed with nothing but his navy blue shirt.
yuuta was left speechless, his body cold and abandoned as you abruptly got up from his lap. he sat frozen, watching you as you stood near the bed. his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions; frustration, confusion, and undeniable arousal. he felt vulnerable and exposed, his body still tingling from your touch, yet now left with nothing to relieve the tension.
“hungry?? seriously?”
yuuta’s voice was a bit strained, a mix of annoyance and disbelief. here he was, sitting there half-naked and flustered because of your actions, and all you could say was that you were hungry.
he ran a hand through his hair, trying to gather his thoughts and regain his composure, but it was difficult to do so while feeling so exposed and wanting nothing more than to have you back on his lap.
“you… you can’t just leave me like this and then say you’re hungry…” he wanted to protest, to pull you back to where you belong and demand that you finish what you started. but he also knew you well enough to know that your teasing could continue for much longer if he didn't tread carefully. you turn your head, masking a confused look, purposely acting oblivious to make your boyfriend frustrated; it works. “like what?” you ask, “i can't eat now?” you added.
yuuta's frustration grew as you played oblivious, pretending to be completely unaware of the effect you had on him. his jaw clenched, and he let out a small, frustrated noise as he tried to find the right words to respond. he knew you were enjoying this, reveling in his growing frustration.
“no... you can eat later— i…”
he swallowed hard, his mind filled with images of you on top of him, your hands running all over his body. but he quickly shook his head, trying to snap out of his fantasies and focus on the current moment. you groan a little, pretend to be a little annoyed, “but baby, i'm hungry. . .” you look at him while pouting. you again, walk over and stand before him— making him eye-level with your bare thigh. your eyes focusing on your screen, scrolling through a bunch of restaurants and ready to order some food.
yuuta's breath catches in his throat as you step close to him again, his eyes fixated on your bare thigh right in front of him. his hands clench at his sides as he struggles to keep himself from reaching out and pulling you onto his lap.
he takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts and find some semblance of control, but the sight of you in that position makes it increasingly difficult. he can feel the tension and desire rising within him, and he knows you're just stoking the flames even higher.
“babe. . . we can order later.”
yuuta's voice is low and strained as he speaks. his gaze is fixed on your legs, the temptation to reach out and run his hands up your thighs almost unbearable. his heart is racing, and he's struggling to keep his thoughts from spiraling out of control.
leaning forward slightly, he looks up at you, his eyes pleading and filled with a mixture of lust and frustration, “can't we... can't we do something else first, please...?”
yuuta's gentle and desperate comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as you continued to focus intently on your phone, scrolling through various food options. absorbed in your thoughts, you muttered aloud about your cravings.
“hmm, what should we have for dinner tonight?” you pondered, your eyes glued to the screen. “i’m really craving some chicken. it sounds so good right now. what about you, babe? any particular food you’re in the mood for?” you didn’t even bother to look up, lost in your own world of food choices. yuuta’s dark blue eyes followed you with a frustrated face.
yuuta groaned internally as you continued to obliviously scroll through your phone and discuss dinner options. he knew you were teasing him, prolonging his suffering by pretending not to notice his growing desperation. his eyes darkened as he watched you, his patience wearing thin with each passing moment of this maddening game.
he bit his lip, trying to rein in his frustration and maintain his composure, but it was a losing battle. he wanted you, wanted you badly, and you seemed determined to keep him in this state of agonizing limbo.
“babe, please. . . i don't care about dinner right now,” his voice was strained, a mixture of frustration and desire as he pleaded with you to stop this maddening game. his hands gripped the edge of the sofa, knuckles turning white as he fought the urge to snatch your phone away and show you exactly what he wanted.
“i just want you, i need you... please. can we do something else first?” he couldn’t hide the pleading tone in his voice, the words coming out almost like a desperate whimper. yuuta's heart pounded in his chest as he waited for your response, his eyes fixed on you, silently begging you to put down the phone and give him the attention he so desperately craved.
he could feel the tension in the air, the palpable sexual energy between you both, and he knew that you were fully aware of the effect you had on him. but you continued to act nonchalant, driving him to the edge of his patience. he swallowed hard, his voice barely above a whisper as he spoke again.
“babe... please...”
“later baby,” you mumble while your eyes are still on your phone, you touching his cheek for a second before walking away to sit on his bed. yuuta's heart sank as you dismissed him, your careless words and brief touch doing nothing to quell the fire burning within him.
he watched in disappointment as you walked away and sat on the bed, a small part of him hoping that you were just trying to build up the tension, but the logical part of his brain knew that you were actually serious about waiting.
he let out a frustrated sigh, his body still aching with desire as he tried to accept that he would have to wait a while longer for the release he craved.
“later? great...”
yuuta leaned back on the sofa, feeling defeated and frustrated by your lack of attention. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and push aside the growing disappointment and lust coursing through his body. it was difficult, knowing that the object of his desire was right there, casually scrolling through the phone while he stewed in his own frustration.
he fidgeted on the sofa, shifting his weight and trying to find a comfortable position while he waited for you to finish your phone business so that you could finally give him the attention he craved so badly. yuuta's mind is raced, filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. he couldn't understand how you could be so unaffected by the tension and desire that was palpable between you both.
as he sat there waiting, he began to imagine different scenarios in his mind. scenarios where you suddenly set your phone down and pounced on him, giving him the release he so desperately needed. but he knew that was unrealistic, and it only served to frustrate him further.
“done!” you declared with a sense of satisfaction as you tossed your phone onto his bed. finally, you turned to yuuta, giving him a sweet, reassuring smile. with a playful bounce in your step, you pushed yourself off the bed and walked over to him, making him think that you were ready to spend some quality time together.
however, his hopeful anticipation quickly turned to confusion as you walked right past him and headed towards the fridge. opening the door, you bent over to peer inside, scanning the contents with focused determination.
“yuuta, baby,” you called out, “do you still have that vanilla ice cream? i’ve been craving it all day!” your tone was light and cheerful, clearly more interested in satisfying your sweet tooth than in the cozy moment he had hoped for. yuuta's face fell as he watched you walk past him without even acknowledging his desperate need for your attention. his heart sank as you bent over and started rummaging through the fridge, your focus completely on your craving for ice cream.
he couldn’t believe how easily you seemed to forget about his frustration and desire, as if they were completely insignificant compared to your hunger for sweets. he frowned as he spoke, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice.
“mmm, yeah, it’s still in there…”
after a thorough search through the fridge, you finally spotted the vanilla ice cream tucked in the back. with a satisfied grin, you pulled it out and made your way back to yuuta. you plopped down beside him on the sofa, the ice cream container now in your hands.
without giving yuuta much attention, you set the ice cream on the coffee table and reach for the remote. you turned on the tv, casually flipping through channels as you settled into a comfortable position beside him. you pull the shirt up to your chest, showing yuuta your matching black underwear. the evening’s cozy atmosphere resumed as you started to focus on the show, your attention now firmly on the screen and the ice cream in your hand.
yuuta watched with a mixture of disbelief and frustration as you sat down next to him, completely oblivious to the needs he had been shamelessly expressing just moments ago. he couldn’t believe that you were actually more interested in watching tv and eating ice cream than paying any attention to him.
“what are you doing?” he asked in disbelief. his eyes couldn’t help but roam over your body as you pulled the shirt up and revealed your matching underwear. his body involuntarily reacted to the sight, but it only frustrated him even more, knowing that you had no intentions of satisfying his desires.
you turn your head to him, a confused look coloring your pretty face with a pair of your eyebrows arch, “what? i didn't want the ice cream to get to your shirt,” you tell the boy before turning your attention back to the tv.
yuuta let out a small, scoffing laugh at your nonchalant response. he couldn't believe that you were even more concerned about getting ice cream on his shirt than you were about his obvious frustration and need.
“oh, thanks for that,” he replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he rolled his eyes. “i really appreciate you looking out for my shirt, but i think i was hoping for your attention on something else…” you just nodded, clearly not really paying attention to whatever he just said.
yuuta gritted his teeth, feeling increasingly frustrated and ignored. he watched as you continued eating your ice cream and watching tv, as if he wasn’t even there. he could feel the heat rising in his body, a mixture of anger and arousal that he couldn’t seem to control.
he shifted on the sofa, trying to get more comfortable, but the friction between his body and the fabric only made his frustration grow even more. he clenched his fists and tried to speak calmly, despite the frustration threatening to boil over.
“love... can we talk for a minute?”
“hm?” you hummed softly.
you turn your head to him— eyebrows arching for the second time. he watches how you lick your ice cream, starting from the bottom, and dragging your tongue to the top before putting the ice cream full inside your mouth.
yuuta couldn't believe how completely innocent and oblivious you were acting as you licked your ice cream in that incredibly seductive manner. it was driving him insane, his body responding with desperate need even though he was angry at your indifference.
“can you... can you stop doing that for a minute?“ he tried to keep his voice steady, failing to conceal the desire lacing his words. “i need to talk to you about something... it's important.” your side lips irk, like you're mocking him, “what? you wish it was your dick, huh?”
yuuta's face flushed red at your blunt and accurate comment. it was as if you had read his mind and were now taunting him with his own desires. he fidgeted on the sofa, trying to keep his tone steady despite the obvious discomfort in his pants.
“shut up...” he muttered, his voice low and full of frustrated arousal. “i just want to talk to you about... something else, okay?” yuuta's eyes darken as you mock him with that smirk on your face, your words going straight to the growing frustration and arousal within him.
you nodded, “okay.”
but your hand is moving slowly— fingers pinching your ice cream stick and pulling it out and in for a few times, still with that mocking smirk in your lips. yuuta watched as your hand moved, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, involuntary moan. he knew you were doing it on purpose, trying to tease and torture him even more, and it was working all too well. he bit his lip and clenched his fists, trying to keep his control and not give in to the growing need in his body.
“why... why are you doing this to me?” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and frustration. yuuta's body is tense as he watches you play with the ice cream stick, the sounds of your slurping and licking adding to his growing ache. he can feel his self-control slipping, the desire for you growing stronger with each passing moment.
“i just— i just want to talk to you... can you please. . .put the ice cream down for a minute?” his voice is pleading now, desperation bleeding into the words. again, you nodded, “yes, babe.” so you are putting the ice cream down— down to your throat until you gag before slowly pulling the ice cream out of your mouth.
yuuta’s eyes darkened as he watched you put the ice cream down your throat, the sight of you gagging only adding to the overwhelming mix of desire and frustration coursing through him. he swallows hard, his voice growing even more strained as he speaks, “y/n, that's not what i meant...”
yuuta's frustration and arousal reach a boiling point as he watches you continue to tease him on purpose, making it increasingly difficult for him to think clearly. he knows he should put an end to this maddening game, but his body is betraying him, responding to every action and movement you make.
he takes a deep breath, trying to rein in his desire and speak calmly, yet he can't help the hint of pleading in his voice, “can you please, just stop what you're doing and talk to me?” you nodded enthusiastically, your smile widening as you finally turned your attention back to yuuta. “yes, baby, i’m all done now. we can talk,” you reassured him, placing the ice cream stick down on the table with a contented sigh.
he noticed a small smudge of ice cream lingering at the corner of your lips. the sight made you look even more sensual. you were clearly enjoying the moment, and the bit of ice cream on your lips only added to the fire. it was white and creamy and all yuuta could ever think was how you look with his cum on your lips.
he swallowed hard, his mind wandering to thoughts of how you would look with it replaced by his own... he tried to brush away the thought, but the image was already burned into his mind. “thanks, listen, I really do need to talk to you about something...”
yuuta’s voice trailed off as his gaze fixated on the ice cream smudge on your lip. His mind was overwhelmed with thoughts and images of what he wanted to do to you, and he found it increasingly difficult to focus on the conversation. he cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice even as he continued speaking, “it's important... or at least, i think it is, but i can't concentrate with... with...” he pauses, his eyes locked on that damn smudge of ice cream on your lip.
“with what?”
yuuta’s frustration and desire grew stronger as he continued to stare at your lip, the ice cream smudge taunting him. he knew he should just blurt out what he wanted to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself and form a coherent sentence.
“that, that ice cream smudged... on your lip,” he manages to say, his voice strained and low, “it's distracting me.” he tried to keep his voice steady, but he could hear the slight waver in his tone, betraying the struggle he was having to keep his focus and control. he clenched his fists, silently willing you to just wipe that damn ice cream smudge off your lip, but you just sat there, seemingly oblivious to the effect it was having on him.
he shifted on the sofa, trying to find a more comfortable position, but the movement only served to remind him of the growing ache in his body. he wanted to reach out and wipe it off himself, but he knew that would only make things worse. he swallowed hard, his voice strained as he spoke again, “babe... can you please just wipe that ice cream off your lip? it's driving me insane.”
“oh?” your thumb moves across your lips, brushing the ice cream off of you before licking your finger. “sweet, just like when i swallow you.” yuuta's breath hitched as he watched you wipe the ice cream off your lips with your finger, and then casually licking it clean, as if you were blissfully unaware of the effect you had on him.
he couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at your nonchalant attitude, but at the same time, his body responded to the sight, stirring with renewed desire at your words, “babe... what are you doing to me...”
you taking off your shirt before moving closer, “wanna taste yourself?” you mumble on his lips after you ring your arms around his neck, closing any gap between you and him. yuuta let out a soft moan as he feels your lips on his, the taste of the sweet ice cream still lingering on them. your arms around his neck only added to his growing arousal, and he found it increasingly difficult to keep his control.
he let his hands roam over your bare skin, tracing the curves and ridges of your body with his fingers as he spoke in a ragged whisper, “god, you're driving me crazy... you know that?”
smiling, you whisper “i know,” on his lips as you push him to lie on the couch, slowly with you on top of him. yuuta's body responds eagerly to your touch and movement, his hands instinctively reaching for your hips and holding you gently in place on top of him. he can feel the heat from your body radiating through him, the sweet, lingering taste of the ice cream still clinging to your lips.
he looks up at you with a mixture of frustration and desire, his voice coming out in a low, gravelly whisper, “you're going to be the death of me, you know that? i-i want you so badly.”
“we can forget the chicken, i'm craving to get rail out of nowhere,” you mumble on his lips, licking his bottom lips. a low, guttural moan escapes from yuuta's lips as he feels you licking his bottom lip, his body responding immediately to your touch and words. he can feel his resolve slipping as his hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you even closer to him on the sofa.
he manages to speak through gasps and breaths, “jesus... the things you do to me.” he can feel the heat of your body pressed against his, his hands begin to roam over the bare skin of your back, tracing the contour of your curves as he no longer fights the rising tide of desire and frustration within him.
by the end of the night, yuuta had certainly made sure that you were thoroughly exhausted and satisfied, paying you back for all the teasing and driving him crazy. the combination of his pent-up frustration and desire had led to a night of intense passion and energy that left you both breathless and spent.
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How He Handles Jealousy
Thank you so much for the request for this headcanon! It turned out to be longer than I initially anticipated, but I hope you find it enjoyable to read. Happy reading!
Being fresh in a relationship often means confronting one's own insecurities. One of these is the question of whether one can fully trust their partner and how to deal with it when the partner themselves is plagued by the question of whether they are truly enough. So what about the ghouls: How do they handle this in both directions? In this scenario, we assume that you are in a relationship and that you, of course, never pursue any ill intentions when creating a situation that makes your loved one jealous, and vice versa. We are always talking about a healthy level of jealousy.
Jin
Jin does not strike you as a man who becomes jealous easily. He has rank, status, outrageously good looks, and charisma. Who would dare to even consider getting too close to his beloved? And what could lead him to think that you might have an interest in someone other than him? Exactly: nothing.
Nevertheless, even the king of Frostheim occasionally experiences a strange feeling in his chest when he sees you showing a little too much interest in another person. There's nothing wrong with playing it safe, right? He will be quite open about his jealousy, though he wouldn't label it as such. Instead, he will explicitly ask you what you have going on with the other person. Depending on your answer, he will either allow you to continue interacting with them undisturbed or he will ask you to keep your distance. If you disagree, he will accept it but will become noticeably clingy and unusually touchy in the presence of that person in the future.
Conversely, Jin cannot imagine that you could ever be jealous of anyone. Aside from the fact that you are his everything, which he always shows you in his own way, he considers you superior to all other people. How could you possibly think that anyone could measure up to you? Since he can't stand most other people anyway, he would never deliberately get too close to someone else.
He won't notice your jealousy unless you communicate it clearly. Initially, he will stare at you in disbelief and will need to process what you just said. Once he has absorbed the information, he will suddenly start laughing heartily. He'll begin to grin devilishly, cup your chin, and gently pull you a bit closer to his face. "Come to my room after the event tonight. I'll show you enough good reasons why you don't need to worry."
Tohma
Tohma is a true gentleman with far too good manners for you to ever suspect that he feels jealousy. However, in the early stages of your relationship, this feeling is anything but foreign to him, as your time together is limited, and he is careful to keep your relationship a secret for as long as possible. Who wouldn't feel negative emotions when they see the person they desire getting close to other people, even if it's just a fleeting touch of their hand?
Without the chains he has bound himself with by moving to Frostheim, he would certainly be the type to charmingly but firmly put any rivals in their place. Depending on how far the rival has gone with you, it could even be imaginable that he would elegantly beat him to a pulp in an alley. Otherwise, a public display of your connection through physical contact would suffice to remind the audacious guy who he’s messing with. However, in Frostheim, Tohma is forced to use different means. If your new clingy acquaintance suddenly starts keeping their distance from you, it will likely be because they received an anonymous and highly convincing threatening letter. Everyone has skeletons in their closets, and Tohma knows exactly how to find and leverage them.
Although he is rather distant, Tohma has a seductive way of conversing with others, so it's highly likely that one or two women may have cast an eye on him. Since you are suffering as much as he is from the secrecy of your relationship, you will, sooner or later, inevitably find yourself ensnared in the burning arms of jealousy.
Even if Tohma can empathize with your feelings because he knows them as well as you do, he will want to maintain the façade at all costs and will earnestly ask you to be patient and hold back just a little longer. Sooner or later, everything will fall into place, and you can be together whenever you want. But whatever happens, don't act too rashly, as Tohma's goals for his service to the Frost King will always take precedence. By letting you into his life, he is undoubtedly risking a lot, so cut him some slack if he can't change his public behavior for now. The silver lining is that you'll receive more messages asking you to bring him "special documents" to the vault room. Reviewing those together will always take a bit more time.
Luca
Luca sees you as an honorable person and won't easily entertain the thought that anyone could take you from him, unless it’s death itself. Some situations may seem strange to him in the early days of your relationship when he sees you getting close to other men, with whom you're building a tighter (albeit genuinely platonic) relationship. Even Luca is not immune to feeling a bit uneasy.
Assuming that everything must be as it should, he will swallow that uncomfortable feeling for a long time and won’t let on. Unfortunately, he will do this until it boils over, and his feelings overwhelm him. In the next situation he observes – even if it’s just lunch at Sho's food truck – he will come directly to you and confront you both. Since by that point you likely won't have known anything about Luca's emotional state (how could you?), you'll be utterly incredulous and shocked as you watch Luca throw all his pride overboard, take your hands in his, look deep into your eyes, and seriously ask whether you still love him and want to stay with him, or if you've decided to be happier with another man. The shame reflected on his face when you tell him he couldn't be more wrong will remain a topic of conversation on campus for a long time. He won't stop apologizing to both you and your friend, promising that such behavior won't happen again. It might be best to take the poor man along to your meetings so he feels better.
Luca is an old-fashioned gentleman, inherently friendly and courteous to everyone. Unfortunately, he can quickly lose sight of his surroundings when he believes he is doing the right thing, leading to situations that may push others too far and evoke jealousy without him ever intending to.
If you react to your jealousy with a corresponding mood, Luca will quickly notice and address it. However, he won't pick up on any subtle hints you might drop that aren't blatantly obvious, as he won’t be aware of any inappropriate behavior. Once he knows how you feel, he won't stop apologizing and will be overwhelmed with guilt, culminating in showering you with attention and gifts. He promises you that he won't make such a mistake again, and he means it.
Kaito
Unfortunately, Kaito suffers from extremely low self-esteem, which also reflects the intensity of his feelings. Any tiny bit of attention you give to another man will immediately be interpreted as a sign of disinterest in him. At first, he will try to calm himself down. "Come on, Kaito, that's perfectly normal! Everyone has friends of the opposite sex! It doesn't mean anything." Despite all his efforts, his insecurity will eventually overwhelm him, and he will try to speak to you privately during a quiet moment, trying to subtly inquire about the person he is feeling envious of. "What exactly do you two discuss all the time?" "Where do you know him from?" "Does he have a girlfriend?"
Depending on the nature of your response, it will either calm him down for a while or bring him to tears. However, he would never bring it up in public. His crying will, at worst, only be noticed by his neighbors (who probably aren't surprised). Have some compassion for the poor man. He is so happy with you and still can't fathom that an angel like you chose him as her boyfriend of all people. Him, who feels like he has nothing to offer. Thus, the fear of losing you becomes even more pronounced because you might realize that he is really worthless. This, of course, is not true, and you've likely told him enough times. However, words alone won’t help him in this case. Involve him in your outings with friends and communicate or show publicly that Kaito is your boyfriend. Besides making him the happiest person on the planet, it will help calm him down.
If you, on the other hand, become jealous of someone Kaito is interacting with, you can assume that he won't pick up on it at first. After all, he wouldn’t know what there is to be jealous about. Sure, Kaito didn’t pass up any chance to flirt with other women on campus before your relationship, but that was, as stated, before you got together. Meanwhile, he would never risk making you feel unloved. If you initially don’t communicate your jealousy directly and react with a worse mood instead, the last thing he will suspect is jealousy.
So if you can’t shake off those feelings, communicate them. He may respond with confusion and even shock, but secretly he will be flattered. This will be an opportunity for you to boost his self-esteem, which can only benefit Kaito. He will cease any activities that lead to your jealousy and will make it clear in public (as long as you both agree on how to appear in public) that it is only you by his side.
Alan
It’s relatively hard to imagine Alan becoming quickly jealous in the classic sense. Since he’s already unsure in the early stages of the relationship whether it was the right decision to enter it on his part, he wouldn’t really hold it against you if you got closer to other people. Not that you yourself would ever have such thoughts, but Alan might interpret even the slightest closeness to someone else as you reconsidering your relationship with him.
Just because he won’t actively bring it up doesn’t mean he won’t feel uncomfortable when he sees you (in his view) getting too familiar with another person. When his chest tightens, and he feels the urge to step in, hold you in his arms, and never let go to ensure that you belong to him alone, he would never act on that feeling.
On the other hand, he would never assume that you might be jealous of another woman he interacts with. Let alone that he would ever give another woman enough attention for you to even consider it. So, if you want to clear things up, you’ll need to bring it up directly with him.
Knowing that you're jealous would simply break his heart, and he would wonder where he went wrong. Did he give you the impression that you’ve become unimportant to him? Did he not give you enough attention? Did he actually get too close to someone else? He would apologize a thousand times and reassure you that you are his everything and that there’s really nothing to worry about. He would avoid the other person as much as possible from then on, or at least behave much more distantly. He would never want to give the wrong impression or hurt you in any way.
Sho
Sho is a very easy-going and uncomplicated guy when it comes to relationships. He gives you all the freedom in the world and fully trusts that you’d never let anyone cross the line. The only thing that could trigger jealousy in Sho is his highly developed protective instinct. Thanks to his friendship with Leo and their excessive clubbing, he knows the dark sides of human nature all too well, and he wants to shield you from them at all costs.
So, if he notices another guy leaving his hand on your shoulder for just a millisecond too long, the good man’s protective instinct kicks in, and he feels the need to set that guy straight by joining in and adding some physical contact with you. He will throw the rival a few unmistakable looks. Once the boundaries are established and Sho has made it clear with his body language what happens if the guy gets too close to his beloved girlfriend, Sho will disappear just as quickly as he came. Have fun with the rest of your evening!
In the case that you are jealous when Sho interacts with certain people, he’ll notice it from your body language right away, unless you outright tell him. Sho is, after all, an extremely attentive and surprisingly empathetic man who doesn’t miss a single one of your glances. Even though he would expect the same trust from you that he gives you, he doesn’t react with disappointment or rejection, but with loving teasing. “What, seriously, you’re jealous of her?” He simply finds your jealousy too cute to be genuinely angry.
Sho also belongs to the type of guy who would take you along to meetings with the respective person to make things more obvious and help ease your insecurities. From now on, he’ll also be a little more careful to ensure that his actions toward others don’t provoke any negative feelings in you.
Leo
Leo would never admit that he’s jealous of someone who (in his eyes) is getting too close to you. Absolutely not. If he feels anything, it’s anger because you’re risking being seen together, and his followers might think there’s trouble between you and the influencer. Yeah, that’s definitely the only thing that comes to his mind when he sees you with a supposed rival. It’s the same when he sees overly nice comments from men about you under his videos and promptly deletes them. Don’t let it go to your head or get any silly ideas.
So, don’t think too much of it when he grumbles at you to be careful how you interact with other guys because it could give off the wrong impression. Don’t read too much into it either if he starts marking his territory when you don’t listen and still let that boring guy (allegedly) get too close. For Leo, the smallest form of physical contact is enough to trigger his jealous attentive radar. He’ll then quickly start pushing himself between you two, showering you with physical (and surely inappropriate for the situation) attention. Additionally, in his usual cruel style, he’ll subtly insult and try to humiliate his supposed rival. If you’re in a relationship with Leo, you’ll have to love him very much to deal with his behavior.
In Leo’s eyes, it’s obviously nooooo problem at all if other girls get too close to him. After all, he’s a popular influencer and can’t neglect his fans. Why would you even think he’d start anything with one of those airheads? If you do somehow let your jealousy show, you can expect to be met with plenty of scorn and mockery on his part.
Leo won’t be able to stop laughing and will call you “stupid” in the most creative ways more than once. Of course, he’ll never show outwardly how cute he actually finds your jealousy. And he certainly won’t change his behavior toward his fans. Bad for business.
However, he’ll now start including you in his videos much more frequently to make you feel better. It’s definitely not because he enjoys showing off his cute girlfriend to everyone and bragging about you. Now, he just has a really good excuse to hide his true intentions behind.
Haru
Haru is usually too busy to worry about something like jealousy. Just like you, he also has his tasks and his daily life, which you can arrange however you like, with whomever you like. Things only get critical if you start spending time with someone else (for whatever reason) that’s meant for the both of you. The first couple of times, he would take it as normal, but by the third rejection, his attention would be caught. Do you have someone else?
Haru isn’t really the type to want to take away anyone’s freedom. And certainly not yours. But sooner or later, he won’t be able to bear that uncomfortable, gnawing feeling in his chest anymore and will ask you, more or less casually, what’s going on. Are you lacking something? Did he do something wrong? If you ask him more specifically why he’s asking, he’ll calmly explain that he finds it strange that you have less time for him and that he’s worried you’re dissatisfied with him. Since you certainly aren’t (and if you are, please bring it up directly – communication is everything in a relationship!), you’ll reassure him that there’s a very good reason for your absence and he doesn’t need to worry. He’ll accept any explanation you give with relief because he fully trusts you.
In the reverse situation, Haru will quickly sense your discomfort if you somehow develop jealousy. He may not invest as much time in a relationship as others, but the time he does take for the both of you is used to its fullest. As a result, he gets to know you very well, very quickly, and senses right away when something is wrong. He’ll immediately ask you about it and want to know exactly what’s bothering you.
If it’s his light flirting with female guests at the Safari Park, he’ll do his best to cut it out, even though it’s completely meaningless to him. However, he won’t always succeed entirely because it’s just part of his nature, so please don’t hold it against him too much. Whatever else has triggered your jealousy, he’ll try to stop doing it from now on, as long as it’s within his control (some circumstances just don’t allow certain behaviors to change). At the same time, he’ll encourage you to have a bit more self-confidence and stop doubting his feelings for you because they’re more than genuine. To be sure, though, he’ll conspicuously and practically tell everyone just how fantastic his girlfriend is. Absolutely everyone. In every situation. Ren will get tired of hearing it. Towa, on the other hand, will love it. Eventually, everyone on campus will know that you are the great love of the ranger. You’ll also soon read this fact on the new brochures for the Safari Park. Still have doubts?
Towa
Once you enter a relationship with Towa, you are completely devoted to him. You are his dandelion, and he is your Prince Charming. Your love is pure and true, making it unthinkable for anyone to come between you. While Towa wouldn’t dream of restricting your time with friends, he won’t tolerate anyone who seems to have more than friendship on their mind.
Towa feels his emotions intensely and is quickly overwhelmed by jealousy once it arises. You'll notice his mood shift instantly—where sunshine was, storm clouds now linger when you and a friend are too close. He’ll wait for you to approach him, but if you bring it up, his anger will flare. Why would you let anyone come so close? Explanations won’t suffice here, and actions must follow to calm him. A little more physical distance between you and your friend will be necessary from now on. Towa dreams of a fairytale romance with his soulmate, and that includes avoiding any outward appearances that could be misunderstood.
On the flip side, it’s rare for Towa to get close to someone else, as he tends to keep people at a distance. Besides, it’s almost unthinkable for him to give much attention to anyone other than his beloved dandelion. His love for you is deep and genuine.
Should the impossible happen, and you feel jealous of someone else, Towa would drop that person in a heartbeat. Everyone besides you (and maybe Haru) is practically irrelevant to him. He’ll have no problem acting in a way that reassures you. “You’re being silly, dandelion. You’re the most beautiful flower of them all!”
Ren
Poor guy. Wasn’t it painful enough for him to realize his feelings for you and act on them? Now he must also admit that you mean so much to him that even the thought of you leaving him for some brainless dullard drives him insane? Even though you likely wouldn’t give him such reason to worry, the thought is hard to avoid. Ren has healthy self-confidence, but at the beginning of your relationship, he can’t shake the fear that you might be one of those girls who’d ditch him for a macho guy at the first chance.
Ren’s jealousy is noticeable by how harshly he insults his supposed rival. “Why are you hanging out with a guy who looks like he sleeps at the gorilla enclosure?” or “Are you sure you’re actually texting with him and not an AI? No way that guy learned how to write.” These are just some of the quips you’ll hear. It won’t take much to figure out how Ren is feeling. He wouldn’t ask to join you at these meetups or accompany you if you asked. Nor would he ever demand you stop seeing this person; it’s still your life, after all. However, showering him with extra affection won’t hurt, and though it won’t make his mood improve immediately, he’ll deeply enjoy your attention. He knows he has to handle his feelings himself, and with time, he will.
You’re unlikely to feel jealous of anyone in Ren’s life, as he tends to avoid most people. If anything, you might get jealous of an online acquaintance he chats with often. Should you bring it up, he’ll likely be annoyed since he can’t comprehend how someone can feel threatened by a person who isn’t physically present.
He’s not the type to change his behavior just because you’re uncomfortable. He expects the same freedom he gives you. However, he’ll (grudgingly and indirectly) assure you that you never need to worry about him being interested in anyone else. After all, you’re his fellow inmate in the prison called Darkwick, and no one could replace you.
Romeo
Romeo is a territorial type who hates when someone tries to intrude on his kingdom. It’s not pure jealousy driving him to chase off his so-called rival but more so his outrage at someone daring to approach what belongs to him (yes, you belong to him).
However, how he reacts depends heavily on who you’re spending time with. If you’re hanging out with Kaito, Romeo won’t care much since he doesn’t see him as a threat. But if your “rival” is more elegant and even remotely comparable to Romeo’s beauty, things get dangerous. First, he’ll start appearing around you more often, publicly wrapping his arms around you and giving you tender kisses on the cheek. While you’re still trying to figure out what’s happening, he’ll brush your flushed cheek and whisper in your ear about how stunning you look today, all while shooting a triumphant glance at his rival. Not only does he publicly claim you, but he also secures a romantic interlude in his office—unless, of course, you can resist a jealous Romeo. This scenario could repeat endlessly, but it wouldn’t be wise to test Romeo’s patience. One day, your rival might mysteriously disappear. Strange how things happen…
Conversely, Romeo expects you to have enough self-confidence to not let such a petty feeling as jealousy control you (easy for him to say). There will likely be plenty of occasions to make even the most confident person sweat with anxiety. After all, Romeo is incredibly attractive and knows how to use his charm to get what he wants. Who wouldn’t be tempted?
If you can’t hold back and express your discomfort over his behavior with someone else, you’ll initially be met with disbelief and disappointment. Did he really choose a partner so insecure that she thinks the infallible Romeo would ever be in a relationship with someone replaceable? Nonsense. His words might make you feel like he’s dismissing your feelings, telling you to pull yourself together, but his actions will tell a different story. From then on, he’ll bring you along to meetings with that person, showing you subtle yet unmistakable affection for everyone to see.
Taiga
It won’t be easy to provoke jealousy in Taiga. Not because he’s incapable of such feelings or because he doesn’t care about you, but simply because he hardly takes his eyes off you. He’s quite the clingy type and takes you practically everywhere he goes. Where would be the time to connect with someone else well enough for Taiga to have any wrong ideas?
However, if you do have enough time to become close friends with another guy, such that you have some (purely platonic) physical contact (a hand on the shoulder is enough), Taiga will quickly become dangerously jealous. Who dares to touch his beloved lucky charm?! This friendship won’t last long, as Taiga will swiftly come up to you, casually drape an arm around you, and with the other, draw his weapon and shamelessly aim it at his rival. “I think it’s time for you to leave.” Even though he says this calmly with a smile on his lips, hardly anyone will miss the seriousness of the situation. He’ll tolerate your complaints about his behavior and wave them off with boredom. But he will do it again if anyone approaches you in that way. His jealousy only flares up with charismatic types; the only exception might be Romeo. With people he perceives as losers, you can remain friends as you like. Don’t look at him like that. You chose this relationship for yourself.
In the very unlikely event that you become jealous of someone in Taiga’s vicinity, an (extremely uncomfortable) solution will also quickly present itself. Taiga will notice your jealousy if you react to him in a particular mood. When you tell him the reason, he will laugh loudly and pat your head, visibly amused as he asks if he means so much to you that you become jealous so quickly.
“No reason to worry, kitty cat, look.” Without hesitation, he pulls out a weapon and aims it at the person who triggered your jealousy. You should really react quickly at this point to prevent something worse. He truly doesn’t care about anything except you, and unfortunately, he has no qualms about showing that.
Ritsu
To provoke someone like Ritsu into such a base feeling as jealousy would take quite a lot. He is an extremely pragmatic man who has his own way of handling feelings, which he keeps quite well under control. Moreover, as his chosen one, you must possess certain qualities to even be considered at his side, including loyalty.
So why should Mr. Shinjo even worry that you might fall for another man? After all, you entered into a relationship, and that comes with rules—like an invisible contract that you both signed with a kiss. If he has doubts about you, they are likely to be well-founded—like obviously more than purely platonic physical contact with another man or blatantly ignoring Ritsu in the presence of certain people. In this case, he will immediately address it and ask for clarification of the matter.
Conversely, it will also be difficult for him to develop jealousy towards someone Ritsu associates with. You know his professional nature too well. So unless you yourself tend toward strong jealousy over trivial matters, you will only be overwhelmed by your feelings in absolutely justified situations.
Ritsu is a good observer and will quickly notice if something is wrong with you. He will directly address it to inquire about the reason for your mood swing. However, he would be a bit disappointed if you didn’t bring it up yourself. He will address the problem directly and won’t waste time on the fact that he cannot comprehend your feelings, because the fact is, you have them, and he doesn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Whatever behavior led to your jealousy: he will cease it immediately.
Haku
Haku is not someone who becomes jealous easily, which is why he grants you a lot of freedom. You would have to give someone an unusually large amount of attention to evoke that feeling in Haku. However, he isn’t the type of person to directly express his discomfort. Instead, he will endure the feeling and the sight of the two of you for quite some time until he can no longer help but take action.
Nevertheless, he won’t directly address it; instead, he will take care of the problem himself, activating his hunting instinct and increasingly joining you whenever you’re with that particular someone. In doing so, he will try to more or less subtly solidify his status as your boyfriend. A spontaneous kiss on the cheek, his arm around your waist throughout the meeting, the casual question of when he can expect you tonight… Yep, he’ll manage his emotional chaos on his own. So you can sit back and enjoy this extra attention.
If you are the one who becomes jealous (which is more than understandable considering Haku’s naturally flirtatious nature), he will quickly notice regardless of how you communicate. Not that he would want to hurt you intentionally, but he will likely find your jealousy quite adorable and will playfully tease you about it. He certainly won’t pass up the chance to annoy you. “Watch out, I’m meeting a certain lady today who is quite pretty, but she can’t even begin to compare to the princess in front of me,” or “I don’t know if you’re ready for this, but I’m seeing that one person today to whom I recently told her hairstyle looks good. But don’t worry: I won’t take her home.” He’ll ride that horse for a long time.
But rest assured, Haku only wants what’s best for you. So to take away any uncertainty, he will present you even more obviously as his beloved girlfriend in public. He won’t suggest it himself, but if you express a desire to meet those individuals who triggered your jealousy, he won’t refuse. After all, he has nothing to hide. However, you’d need to be pretty thick-skinned to endure that meeting, during which Haku will naturally be all over you the whole time to show you that you needn’t worry about anyone taking his flirting seriously, as everyone should already know he’s taken.
Subaru
The former Kabuki actor suffers from many insecurities regarding himself. This is likely connected to his somewhat impractical ability that can activate without his active involvement, showing him things that were never meant for his eyes. Despite all circumstances, he has entered into a relationship with you and, given the physical contact you’ve likely had, knows pretty much everything about you there is to know. This includes knowing your sincere feelings for him.
Because of this, there’s hardly any reason for Subaru to develop jealousy. You have your friends and handle them your way. That’s absolutely okay for him. The only exception might be strangers who have just appeared and are still difficult for Subaru to assess. In this case, especially charismatic individuals who are also very friendly toward you could provoke some jealousy in him, but he would never show it openly or address it, because, as mentioned: he knows you and trusts you completely. However, you might notice a change in his suddenly much more self-confident and assertive demeanor towards the strangers, indicating what has triggered this character change.
Conversely, Subaru will notice even the slightest change in your mood or behavior and interpret it correctly, so your jealousy won’t remain hidden for long. Being who he is, he won’t stop apologizing, sincerely assuring you that he never intended to evoke those feelings in you. The situation is visibly uncomfortable for him.
Since he takes your feelings very seriously and feels them himself through your physical contact, he will take all necessary measures to nip them in the bud. This includes, of course, assuring you thousands of times that you never have to worry. He’s far too polite to simply dismiss other people, but he will still behave a bit more distantly towards those individuals.
Zenji
Given his circumstances, Zenji was likely quite difficult to convince to enter into a relationship, so he probably gives you a lot of freedom in how you interact with others—even though he, too, can reach his limits. However, he would never expect you to completely devote yourself to him when you still have your whole life ahead of you.
When it comes to the feeling of jealousy in general, he knows it all too well, as he practically feels that biting sensation towards anyone who has the privilege of being physically close to you and feeling your warmth. However, assume that he would never communicate this feeling under any circumstances. He loves you too much and is too at peace with himself and his situation.
We can probably skip the reverse scenario, as besides a few chosen ones, no one can see him anyway. But if Zenji was already that kind of person in life, it stands to reason that someone with the right disposition could quickly become envious of his admirers, with whom he interacts very openly and invitingly, even if he never has any ulterior motives.
Zenji is the definition of a pure soul. If for any reason you were ever in a situation where you became jealous of someone who interacted with him, he would notice—whether you show it or not. Without ever bringing it up himself, he would simply cease the behavior that led to your jealousy. For you should never even entertain the idea that anyone could be more interesting to him than his dearly beloved muse.
Rui
Since Rui is someone who could easily steal a girlfriend from one or two guys, he is even more wary of guys of his caliber. It’s not that he doesn’t trust you per se, but he just knows how quickly someone can be tempted when the right buttons are pressed. To make matters worse, Rui isn’t really able to defend himself. He can’t just take you in his arms to present you as his or stand up to a guy to show dominance. Your relationship is, at best, only known through hearsay. Of course, he will feel unbearably burning jealousy when he sees someone who can touch you so easily while Rui stays in the background. And this type of jealousy is a thousand times worse than the one he literally feels toward anyone who has the privilege of touching you.
In a relationship with Rui, you should be quite careful about how you interact with other men, as Rui finds himself in an extremely vulnerable position that has been exacerbated by your relationship since he suddenly has even more to lose than before. Since he already feels guilty about being in a relationship with you when you should ideally be with someone who can offer you more than he can, he will never openly reveal his feelings to spare you what he considers an inappropriate guilty conscience. Nevertheless, his jealousy will inevitably reflect in his mood and won’t escape your trained eye. When confronted about it, Rui will admit his jealousy but assure you that you don’t need to worry about him because you haven’t done anything wrong, and it’s solely his problem. At this point, it doesn’t really matter how you react, whether you change your behavior towards the person involved or not. Unfortunately, the damage is already done for Rui.
On the other hand, Rui makes a tremendous effort not to give the impression that he’s still acting the same way as before your relationship or even before his curse. However, flirting is just too natural for him, so he can’t always suppress it, even if he doesn’t really think anything of it. He will quickly realize if he has crossed a line in your eyes and immediately backtrack. He would never hold your jealousy against you, as he’s self-aware enough to admit that it is absolutely justified, even if he would never go too far.
As far as it’s in his power, he will unobtrusively try to communicate to every woman that he is more than happily taken. So, never be too angry with him. He really is doing his best.
Ed
The elegant vampire is not so easily made jealous, especially since you certainly know what kind of dangerous man you’ve gotten yourself into. He’s also a bit too old and experienced to be overwhelmed by such feelings. However, he absolutely will not tolerate attention-seeking and obvious rivals who come a little too close to you.
Let’s be honest: Ed is a drama queen and has no sense of shame. So brace yourself for a performance worthy of an Oscar. “So you want to abandon your poor, sick lover? You would just leave me to certain death?” While speaking in a dramatic tone, he physically pushes his rival away with his back and throws himself around your neck after letting out some truly serious coughs. “Haven’t I given you all my attention and love? Haven’t I satisfied you to your utmost delight every single time? What have I done wrong?” Before you can even sink into the ground out of embarrassment, he begins passionately kissing along your neck until he eventually reaches your mouth. If you don’t push him away, he will continue this act until you both find yourselves in a rather compromising position in front of everyone present, while he gains access to your mouth with his tongue. If that’s not one of your kinks, you should definitely reject him and dramatically declare that he is your great love and has absolutely nothing to fear. He will only be satisfied once you’ve embarrassed yourselves so thoroughly in front of everyone that no one would ever think of getting too close to his prey girlfriend again. But if we’re being more honest, that’s definitely better than the scenario where your supposed rival suddenly disappears from campus and is never seen again.
Conversely, Ed loves to flirt for his life. It’s in his nature to wrap his prey around his finger so they willingly give him whatever he desires. Fortunately, his interest in other people is quite limited, so you will rarely see him interacting with anyone else besides Lyca and Rui. However, if situations do arise that provoke jealousy in you, Ed will definitely notice it immediately. And he will exploit it.
He loves you fiercely. You can be assured of this when he enters into a relationship with you. However, he remains a man who loves exaggeration. So, if he observes changes in your behavior that indicate jealousy, he will ride that feeling until he pushes your patience to the limit, leaving you with no choice but to explode and confront him. Just as in the case where you “made him jealous,” he will fairly pull the reverse show and swear his sincere love to you in the most emotional way you can imagine, immediately sending the lady (?) he was just with to hell. He will then hope that you will throw yourself around him, just the way he loves it.
Lyca
For Lyca, the concept of a relationship is quite new, and he must first learn to cope with the new emotions that have opened up to him since then and learn to assign individual feelings. This also includes jealousy. However, it is unlikely that it will quickly become a part of his portfolio, as physical contact is something natural for him and merely a sign of affection. He must first understand that this affection can indeed go deeper before he begins to worry about other guys.
Once he learns what distinguishes a relationship from a good friendship, he will indeed feel that uncomfortable tightness in his chest when he sees you with someone (like Ed) who develops in his new definition of appropriateness. Instead of observing or addressing you about it, he will impulsively take action and confront your perceived rival. “Hey, why are you so close to her? She already has a boyfriend, got it?!” Despite Lyca’s heated mood, the situation can quickly and calmly be resolved, as he will listen to your explanations and apologize if he has indeed overreacted (which is quite likely at the beginning). After all, he is still learning, and everything takes time.
In the unlikely event that Lyca interacts with girls that provoke jealousy in you, he will only acknowledge your feelings if you openly communicate them. A changed mood will otherwise simply be dismissed as “women are just unnecessarily complicated.”
“Huh, why are you thinking such silly thoughts? Look.” He will immediately wrap his arms around you and give you an unexpected kiss on the mouth. “Do you think I would want to do that with someone else?” However, Lyca takes your feelings seriously enough that he will adjust his behavior toward the individuals involved in the future. Whatever has caused your jealousy will now be stamped as “inappropriate in a relationship.”
Yuri
The great and exalted Yuri Isami would never feel such a base emotion as jealousy. Where do you think you’re going?! It’s not as if he has no experience with relationships and therefore cannot assess what behavior toward others is normal and what isn’t. No, no. He has much more important things to do than pay attention to your leisure activities. As if he would care how close that one guy gets to you, how casually he places his hand on your shoulder, or the way he looks at you. As if Yuri would even give a thought to whether he’s coming so close that the guy can smell your delicately fragrant perfume, which Yuri loves, or whether you give that guy the same charming smile you give Yuri every time you finally see each other again after a long, work-filled day. Really. Completely beneath his dignity.
So if he asks you who that dishonorable worm is that you’ve been spending so much time with lately or about whom you’ve mentioned one too many times in Yuri’s eyes, he only wants to comply with your alleged request that you should get to know each other better and participate more in each other’s lives. Even the biggest idiot on the planet wouldn’t miss the intentions behind his questions, and it’s certainly incredibly tempting to mention that he is definitely the epitome of the jealous boyfriend. But do you really want to do that to this proud man? He would deny it anyway, and dwelling on his obvious questions would probably only lead to a bad atmosphere. Just assure him that the worm is just a worm you like and that no one can compare to your knight in shining armor. But go ahead and enjoy the feeling of having completely captured this man’s heart.
If you ever feel jealous of someone Yuri is involved with, you will need to communicate it directly, as Yuri won’t quickly come to the idea that you are jealous, even if you react to him with obviously poor mood and irritation.
Even though he will feel very flattered when you confess that you are jealous, he unfortunately belongs to the type of person whose self-confidence should not be stroked too much. He will give you a lecture on how silly it is to give in to such a lowly feeling as jealousy and remind you that there is no reason for it. However, if you insist on it, he will pay more attention in the future to how he interacts with other people so that it doesn’t provoke negative feelings in you. The positive side of the story is that Yuri will then give you even more attention and become even more romantic. Because in truth, despite all his strictness, he would never want you to feel bad.
Jiro
Many of the feelings that develop in Jiro during your relationship are completely new to him. The fluttering in his chest when you’re together, the goosebumps your touch gives him, the need to feel your whole body against his skin, and also this new discomfort he feels when he sees you with another man. Generally, he doesn't mind if you spend a lot of time with other men, so it takes quite a bit of physical closeness to evoke feelings of jealousy in him.
Jiro is a pragmatic and very straightforward man. When he observes a situation where you get close enough to another person to provoke jealousy in him, he will first carefully watch both you and himself until he is sure that he can't dispel his insecurity on his own. So be prepared for questions later like, “Is there a special reason why you’re so close?”, “Am I no longer evoking romantic feelings in you, so you've reconsidered our relationship?”, “Is it normal to have multiple lovers?”
Since Jiro is quite an attractive man who works with numerous patients, it won’t be uncommon for him to interact closely with them, and some examinations may take a while. He will never think anything of it and will never come to the idea that you might think something of it either. It’s his job to take care of his patients. Nothing more, nothing less.
The only exception might be if he has experienced jealousy himself beforehand. In that case, he will have taken note of the trigger and will make sure to avoid giving you the same feeling. Therefore, he will closely observe you in this scenario, and at the slightest hint that you might be jealous, he will come to you and directly remind you that you don’t need to worry. Even if you’re not actually jealous. If he hasn't experienced jealousy yet, you will need to directly address your feelings with him and probably explain them in detail so that he can understand, which will likely result in a very awkward conversation for you. And no, he won’t really be able to understand it, as he will never see a reason for jealousy from his perspective. Nevertheless, he will then try to avoid the behavior that triggers those uncomfortable feelings in you.
#tokyo debunker#tokyo debunker x reader#tokyo debunker headcanon#kaito fuji#haku kusanagi#jin kamurai#tohma ishibashi#lucas errant#sho haizono#leo kurosagi#alan mido#towa otonashi#haru sagara#ren shiranami#subaru kagami#zenji kotodama#rui mizuki#edward hart#lyca colt#yuri isami#jiro kirisaki#taiga hoshibami#romeo lucci#ritsu shinjo
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Fates - SatoSugu x F!Reader (Part I)
Summary: Y/N is Gojo Satoru's beloved wife, or maybe, not so beloved if we consider the rage festering in the form of abuse. Suguru however, has a connection to her too, and it's time he gets to his girl. Warnings: Satoru is a Yandere, he is psychotic, abusive, and bad. Mentions of slight depression, scared reader. Please let me know if I missed anything. A/N: Queen Goddess Ena cooked with this, I was so bored at work I just came up with this, this story will only have two parts I don't want to drag it much :33
Pupils glazed, it has almost become a signature look in the Satoru household. Her pupils look red, eyes puffy, and she's a mixture of mingled sniffles and broken cries. Satoru thinks, she cries a lot. What even is the need for it? It's not like he is harming her, he hasn't shown her half of what he is capable of. Yet, the way she cowers and flinches against him… makes his stomach churn uncomfortably.
"I brought your favourite." His voice echoed, a signal for her to stir awake instantly. Meek, hurried footsteps are heard a few seconds later as she drags herself to the dining area. Dressed eloquently, satin, lavender satin clothes and her beautiful cleavage on sight. It reminds Satoru that she is small, fragile, powerless. Sometimes when her actions become inexcusable, that reminder is needed. How else would someone like Gojo Satoru contain his strength otherwise?
"Wow, you look beautiful." His glossy lips parted, the compliment oozing out with a mixture of conflicted emotions. His eyes well hidden under the mask. "Thank you" She answered without thinking, it's only possible through months of practise after all.
"You're welcome, my Princess." Satoru croons, holding her bruised wrist and helping her sit. The hold is nice, kind and passionate. Unlike the time when it bruised, unlike the time when she wouldn't listen and deny eating. Some lessons are learnt the hard way, you can't help but feel guilty about it later on. For Satoru, it's one of those days where he is feeling upset over his actions. When that emotion trembles his psyche, his affections know no bounds. Why else is the dining table saturated with everything her silly, little heart could possibly desire. Yet, there is one thing missing. Her appetite.
She settles down the dining table, eyes glancing at the larger man who sat next to her, "All your favourites, now be a good girl and finish it up." He grins, it's okay, he can smile for the both of them on days when she can't. He can be positive for the both of them when she can't. What else are relationships for?
"You know I can't finish it up alone." She sounds scared, voice containing slight tones of malice. That doesn’t faze Satoru, he knows that it will happen. His Dearest, Sweetest little girl can be angry at him. She is allowed to be angry at him, he belongs to her anyway, just as much as she belongs to him. However, the fact that her eyes are filled with tears and her soft, smooth voice is breaking when she says it is what punches him in the gut.
"Well, you know, no punishments when you can't finish the food. Bonus points for trying!" Satoru tries to sound excessively excited again, a desperate attempt to mute the bubbling feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"Okay" She hums, taking a bite of one of the pastries placed in front of her, humming in her approval. They seem tasty, yummy.
"I- uh," Satoru's voice is quick to distract her though, "I'm sorry for being a bad husband." Satoru answers, "It wouldn't happen again." There he goes, she has lost count to how many times Satoru has said these words. That he wouldn't do it again, that it wouldn't happen again. She doesn't believe him anymore, a bored nod is all he gets as a response.
Satoru's lips are pursed in guilt, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." He echoes again, that's true, he shouldn't have.
He shouldn't have sprained her wrist, he shouldn't have yanked her to the floor and yelled at her, he shouldn't have watched when her shoulder collides against the lamp and he shouldn't have watched her hiss in pain when she falls on the broken shards of glass. He shouldn't have done that because she didn't agree to have a baby. He shouldn't have…
"If it’s any consolation, I will not be botherin' you to ask you for a child again. Just thought you'd love me more with it." Satoru's voice drops into an ashamed murmur, admitting that all he wants at the end of the day is her love, it's freeing in a way. It's like confessing your sins at a church and just letting the almighty handle it.
It's just… her expression. She seems so out of it, so numb, broken… that he doesn't understand what to do, or say.
"Look, I'm running out of options here Sweetheart." Satoru's larger hand placed atop hers. The weak flinch not gone unnoticed, "How can I make it up to you?" He asked again, gnawing at his lip. "I'll do whatever you ask me to, I promise."
No he won't. If he would have actually done whatever she asked of him, they would have been divorced long, long ago. Satoru is good with words, his words almost seem healing, but that's all they are. Mere Fucking Words.
Before she could say anything, Satoru's phone vibrates. The only thing she is thankful for, is Satoru's impossible schedule. Being the strongest sorcerer ever has it's perks for her. She gets to rot in the Gojo estate alone. Much better than the company of her cruel, narcissistic husband.
Satoru gets up, taking the call and walking away to the hall-way. She can hear him trying to deny this mission, but reluctantly accepting it. A sigh escapes him when he comes back to the dining room, kneeling in front of her.
"Hey, Princess…" His hand reached to her cheek, caressing the cut that's still healing. "I have to go for a mission, you could even go outside if you like!" He smiled, giving her the bait to ensure at least momentarily happiness. What can she even do when she goes outside? Nothing. Satoru has his clutches deep within her family, her parents love him. He is sponsoring her brother's education, he takes control of everything. He has taken an active participation in her father's business. Nothing can be done now, the last time she mentioned divorce Satoru went livid. She doesn't think she can handle that ever again.
Another rehearsed nod happens, as she watches The Strongest leave her be.
Once his presence is gone, her heart bursts open to wails of agony, breathless sniffling and scream crying. What did she ever do to anyone! Why is she facing this! Her hopeless sobs echoed the premises, all she could hear was her own voice, broken, sobbing like a child. Until even that stopped, until silence enveloped her and exhaustion blanketed her into slumber.
The next morning, she is awake, realizing she passed out on the dining table. Her back hurts at the weird position she slept in, an aching groan escaping her lips. Satoru's texts on her phone wishing a good morning. Life is back to being hell. She responds to his texts with a sigh, dragging her boulted feet for a shower. Contemplating, thinking if there is any escape at all which can be possible. None, nothing comes to her mind. Absolutely nothing.
Drying herself up, applying ointments and bandages to the wounds caused by her husband, she gets ready to go outside, the mall seems nice. Satoru is out of Japan for a few days, perfect opportunity to gather herself back again, after all, Satoru needs something to break, right?
The commute goes by in a haze, thoughts on thoughts piled up, overwhelming like auditorium chatter of an audience.
"Uhm, excuse me, I really liked this one." One of the girls next to her spoke, whiskey-kin hair, a few years younger. It was an only designer in the Chanel store which was left. "Uh- okay." She hums, leaning away. Well, that was too easy? The girl beamed with happiness. "Oh wow! Thank you so much miss!"
Y/N had learnt how to respond with smiles that avoid any questions, and that's exactly what she did. Smiled back at the girl.
"My name is Nanako, I am here for shopping because my birthday is coming up soon. You are here for shopping too, and from the bruise on your jaw and neck, it seems your husband says sorry with new things." She was taken aback at the boldness, blinking.
"N-no, it was just- an accident." "You don't have to pretend in front of me, I don't think your husband is around anyway." Nanako winked, smiling back. "You're really beautiful, pretty sure my dad would have treated you way better. Leave the bastard, dump him!" She continued, following a very confused Y/N out the store. What was the deal with this girl even? "Your dad would be almost my dad's age." "Adoptive! He is a few years older than you I think." Nanako hums again, "Coffee? I like you because you gave me my favourite dress!" "I don't think that-" "Please!" "Uhm, okay." Y/N speaks, giving up and following up.
They settle in one of the coffee shops in the mall, settling in. The waiter comes in and asks for their order, "Iced Mocha, please." Y/N hums, and Nanako orders a Frappucino for herself.
"Nanako, who have you bothered now." A silky voice echoed from behind, her eyes lingered to the man in front of them, black hair touching his back, eyes responsive and appealing, his cologne was strong, musky and spicy, a close-eyed smile plastered on his features. "Geto sama!" Nanako chirps happily, "Please come sit next to us." She urged the man, who scanned Y/N and Nanako.
"Hello, my name is Geto Suguru." The man coos, watching her look submissive and even scared. She continuously reminded herself that Satoru is not here, nothing will happen. "Y/N Gojo." She hums, the large diamond ring on her finger noticed immediately.
Suguru is meeting Satoru's wife for the first time, he had heard that Satoru had changed; he is not the epitome of kindness anymore. It's evident. The bruises on her jaw and cheek are evident. His eyes softened, his heart hurts. Suguru met Y/N first, when she wasn't Gojo's wife… and let her go, the curses within him erasing her memory. All because Satoru loved her and Suguru felt that he owed it to his best friend, to have someone like Y/N. To have someone who can show him how great it is to achieve true love. How a non-sorcerer like Y/N was able to take Suguru's heart away. Oh how he regrets it now, he let his precious Angel go, and now she is in hell. The reminder when her loving eyes turned to void after their last kiss. Suguru has had recurrent nightmares about it. Maybe that's the reason Satoru's behaviour has changed. The fear of losing Y/N back to Suguru.
Well, that fear is about to come true, Suguru has had enough.
"You look beautiful in that dress Y/N Gojo." Suguru's voice took the lead, smiling gently. "Pity those bruises don't really suit someone strong-looking like you." The next statement comes off as scathing. "Tell me, if the person you loved, and the person who loved you back, and you shared a kiss, and they forget you, what would you do to remind them?" Suguru's sudden question took her off-guard. What does he mean…
"Sorry?" "Oh don't be. I know the question is random." He hums, watching the waiter put down the coffee. "I would kiss him again, if a kiss doesn't remind him, don't think anything else will." Y/N answered. Her freshly manicured fingers grazing against the glass.
Suguru's smile only grows wider. "Oh right, wonderful." He hums, and in the next swift movement, his hands are grazing Y/N's jaw. Her eyes widening. What is with this man, what’s happening! Satoru would kill her, Satoru would kill this man. Why can't she move, why is she unable to resist - and why is her body not anxious? If Satoru was to come near to her like this, her heart beat would have raced and pounded recklessly, a panic attack brewing. Nothing is happening now- she is as calm as it can be.
"How I missed my Angel." Suguru hummed, leaning in and kissing her, forcing the most unforced kiss ever. His tongue contained something bitter, something that latched deep down her throat. Suguru wants his angel back, Suguru misses her, Satoru couldn't get someone he can't love properly. Suguru's entire being was shattered when he let her go, it's time he has her back.
#gojo satoru#gojo x reader#stsg#satosugu#satosugu x reader#geto suguru#geto x reader#yandere jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#yandere jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jjk comfort#jjk angst#jjk x you#satosugu x you#satosugu x y/n#gojo x y/n#geto x y/n#jjk#jujutsu kaisen
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This is a genuine ask and I hope it doesn't come off as rude, obviously people can do whatever they want forever, but what is the logic behind a lesbian dating a transgender man? (By lesbian I mean someone who is only attracted to women), wouldn't that exclude binary trans men then since trans men are men? Or is it like "Trans men can be lesbians because they have vaginas" which just feels like bioessentialism with progressive wording...
I think the core misunderstanding here might be in your use of the word "logic". And there's a super high chance I'm extrapolating more intention than you put into that word choice, but hear me out.
On a super basic level, I think it's important to understand the reasons people use words like "lesbian" and "trans man" in the first place. In certain contexts, it makes sense to assign these terms more rigid definitions: a study would likely have a single, clear definition for those words in order to talk about some research results. An academic essay might need a shared definition if they're talking about broad trends and systemic issues.
But when we're talking about an individual's choice of identity labels- the words they use to describe their own personal experiences and relationship to gender and orientation- it doesn't make as much sense to apply someone else's definition of those words to that individual's use of them. They're trying to describe their own internal world to you; what matters in that conversation is how they understand the words they use, and why they chose them.
Don't get me wrong: common understandings of a word can play a part in that conversation! My understanding of what "gay trans man" means has been shaped almost entirely by other people. I chose those words for myself because of what I think most people will understand them to mean. In twenty years, it's possible that the common understandings of those words could change, and I might use different words to better communicate the same internal experience.
But I also might not. I might decide that my personal connection to those words is more important to me, or even that saying I'm a "gay trans man", as a person 20 years older than I am now, better reflects my internal experience as one that was shaped by the time I came to understand myself in. Maybe it'll be important to me to communicate that I understand myself as a "gay trans man" because of what those words meant 20 years ago. Maybe it'll be important to me to ask tomorrow's queer people to learn about my context, and my story, in order to really understand me.
And maybe, when I fill out a survey for a queer study in 20 years, I'll read the definitions they use for all of these identity labels and categorize myself accordingly, even though I don't personally identify with those definitions or words.
So yeah, I could talk about all the reasons someone might identify as a "lesbian" and still be attracted to trans men. I could talk about trans men who still call themselves "lesbians" because of what the words meant 20 or 40 years ago, or some unique definition they heard in one place and decided they liked enough to keep, even though nobody else has even heard it. I could talk about lesbians whose partners turn out to be trans men, and who still feel attracted to them afterwards; whose partners are okay with, or even feel validated by, their lesbian partners still calling themselves "lesbians". I could talk about nonbinary trans men, and bigender or multigender trans men, who are women and/or lesbians as much as they are trans men. I could talk about bi and pan lesbians, who may find themselves attracted to one trans man or a handful of men- trans and cis both- but otherwise mostly experience attraction to women.
But like, the point shouldn't be to find a good enough reason to justify it. The point isn't the "logic". The point is to understand that everyone's internal experience is fundamentally different from yours, and to be curious about each individual.
It's great that you asked this question in sincerity, but I'm the wrong person to be asking.
When someone says they're a lesbian who's attracted to trans men, they're trying to share something about themselves with you! That is a precious, unique thing you are being entrusted with. Get curious! Ask them what those words mean to them, and take the opportunity to get to know them better. Learn their story! Connect!
I can't tell you that person's story any more than you can guess it on your own, no matter how much you try to logic it out. That's exciting! The world is big, and it's full of unique stories and perspectives you couldn't even dream of inventing! That's so much better than a logic puzzle, don't you think?
#trans#queer#lgbtqia#lgbtq community#lgbt pride#putting this in the normie tags cause I think more people need to be having this conversation
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