#he's very smart and i'm very smart and somehow this is one of my least intellectual friendships

[physticuffs]

it's so delightful how my love for different people can come in so many textures and shades <3 <3 <3

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡ Motivation ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!mingi x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!yunho

♡ Genre: smut/angst

♡ Summary: Yunho hasn't been able to get you out of his head or his life since the night his best friend Mingi fell for you. He tries to look at you as his best friend's girlfriend, surpressing any forbidden feelings that arise for you, but one night and a single forgotten pair of panties is all it takes to make him break. What will he do when you walk in on him in one of his most vulnerable moments? More importantly, what will you do?

♡ Word Count: 7.9k-ish

♡ Warnings: reader's the brat of all brats, just a tad bit manipulative, both Mingi and Yunho simp for her hard, some subby boy vibes w/ a lil dom Mingi, a lil dom reader, jealous Mingi, perv Yunho, kissing, male masturbation, panty sniffing/licking, deep throating, sexual fantasies, penetrative sex, rough sex, marking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, nipple play, choking, low-key breath play, fingering, swallowing, overstumilation, throat fucking, creampie, handjob, things get very wet, general worship, pet names (baby, good boy, baby girl).

♡ A/N: I need to make this clear. This fic is in no way 7.9k words of smut. There's at least 1k words of something else in there so, ya know, I'm not a total pervert (I am a total pervert 💜). I have so much more planned for this trio but this is what I have for now and I hope all of my sexy chubby babes out there have fun with it. Love you my darlings.

There’s something off about you. 

Yunho knew it the moment that Mingi brought you home from the club. It wasn’t a rare occasion for Mingi to bring a girl back to the apartment. Usually Yunho would be right by his side, stumbling through the door with his tongue shoved halfway down the throat of a girl whose panties hit the ground before he could even learn her name.

But that night he made the rare decision to stay home. He had a paper due the next day and it was either lock in or fail. So instead of partying with his friends, scoping out his prey for the night, he spent his time rotting on the couch, staring at his laptop until his retinas burned out. Fully consumed by the task at hand, he hardly noticed what time it was when the front door clicked open and you came skipping through like you owned the place. 

“Ooh, a smart one” you teased, leaning over the back of the couch to grab a peek at his screen.

You smelled like strawberries and cream with the faintest hint of vodka. Fresh. Sweet. Edible. Your lips were glossy and plush, tinted with a shade of pink that made them particularly kissable. Even by the quickest glimpse of you in his peripheral he could tell that you were pretty. Not pretty like things people take pictures of. Pretty like things men start wars over. 

“What’s your name?” you asked, extending a smooth, manicured hand out to greet him.

Mingi groaned, his arms already around your waist to usher you towards the bedroom, “It doesn’t matter what his name is.”

“Yunho” he managed, turning to get his first full look at you. Heat rushed to his cheeks at the sight of you in that tiny black dress. It clung to your curves for dear life, making every part of you look especially plump in ways that made the heat rush to other parts of his body. 

“Yunho?” you giggled, your fingers skimming his, leaving little sparks of electricity dancing at his fingertips. You didn’t say his name. You sang it like a lullaby, your eyes seeming to twinkle at the sound of it. “I like that name.”

Mingi was all over you, ready to tear you apart, and you were doing nothing at all to stop him but somehow you still seemed fixated on Yunho. Or maybe he was the one fixated on you. “I’ll see you later, Yunho” you winked, Mingi nibbling at your neck just enough to make you moan it out. 

You were just another girl. Mingi’s girl at that. Yunho knew he shouldn’t care and yet he found himself staring at the spot you were once in long after you’d left it. He couldn’t understand what it was about you but he wanted you to come back. Lean over the couch again. Whisper in his ear. Say his name.

“Yunho? I like that name.” 

Shrugging it off, he rubbed his exhausted eyes, dragging his attention back to the task at hand. What he felt was nothing. Just some weird side effect of sleep deprivation. It’d be gone in the morning and so would you. Only that wasn’t true at all. The feeling didn’t go away and neither did you. Not that morning or the morning after that or the morning after that. Mingi kept bringing you around and that feeling—this almost surreal pull you seemed to have to you—only worsened with each passing day. 

Mingi felt it too. Yunho knew that he did. The only difference was that Mingi could indulge in it. In less than a week you were Mingi’s girlfriend and he was crazy about you. Ravenous almost. Yunho had never seen him get this way over a girl. Anything you wanted, everything you wished for. You only had to ask and Mingi  would stop the world to make sure you had it. More than once Yunho wanted to stop his best friend and ask, “What’s she doing to you?” Were you a witch? A demon? Some magic being that had cast a spell upon his best friend, making him your zombie slave.

Whatever you were, your presence in the apartment was driving Yunho insane. He couldn’t stand to hear your voice because he heard it in his dreams. He couldn’t stand to see your face because it’s all he pictured when he closed his eyes at night. Anytime your body was anywhere near him his fingers seemed to tingle with the urge to touch you. Even when you weren’t around the scent of your perfume lingered in the air so that he couldn’t forget you once. Not for a second. Your existence was a small form of torture. Wanting you, longing for you, but not being able to have you was enough to make him insane.

There’s something off about you and Yunho can’t explain it. He can’t justify why he so desperately needs Mingi to get rid of you and he can’t justify why he’s standing outside of the bathroom door listening to you as you sing in the shower, blissfully unaware of his presence. It wasn’t his intention to end up here. He’d been on his way to the kitchen to grab a snack when he noticed the door was cracked and the shower was on. Naturally he’d assumed it was Mingi but before he could go on his way your singing pulled him back. 

You’re adorable when you sing. You’ve done it around him before—cheesy pop songs at karaoke nights—and each time he finds it more endearing than the last. In the back of his mind he knows he shouldn’t be standing here. He doesn’t even know why he’s standing here. Maybe the answer’s something wholesome like him wanting to be near you when you’re doing something cute or maybe it’s something filthy like him getting hard at the knowledge that on the other side of that door you’re completely naked. Or maybe it’s somewhere in between. Either way he knows it’s not right. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be feeling this. 

“Get it together. What’s wrong with you?” he groans, raking his hands down his face. He presses his palms into his cheeks, fingers drumming at his temples. “We have to get out of here.”

“Hello?” you call out and Yunho’s heart stops dead in his chest. He doesn’t move an inch. He doesn’t even breathe. He couldn’t if he wanted to. There’s no way you heard him. 

“Hello?” you repeat, peeking your head out from behind the shower curtain. Fuck, you heard him. You wait a moment, positive that you heard something but not entirely sure what. Glancing over at the mirror you catch the reflection of a silhouette just outside the door. “Mingi, if you’re trying to scare me it won’t work. I can see you.” 

Yunho’s plan to run in the other direction is halted by your words. You’ve already seen him. He can’t just run away now. If he does and you mention it to Mingi later you’ll know it was Yunho anyway. You’ll think he’s a creep and a pervert. As if him standing here to begin with does anything to argue against that theory. 

Clearing his throat, Yunho digs deep to find the most normal explanation for his current position. “I’m sorry. I just had to use the bathroom. I didn’t know—”

“Oh, Yunie! Hold on a second!” Switching the water off, you reach out to grab your towel from the hook and toss it around yourself. “I’m sorry if I was hogging the bathroom” you apologize, hurrying out to gather your things. You expect him to come in but when he doesn’t you open the door yourself to find him standing there like a lost puppy. A terrified lost puppy. 

“Yunie, you okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

“I…uh…I…” he stutters, struggling to find the right words—or any words at all—in the presence of your half naked body in front of him. Even wrapped in a towel you’re glorious to look at. What skin that's left showing is more than enough to fuel the imagination and he wishes it weren’t. 

“You…uh…you what?” you tease, feeling guilty when he averts his gaze from you, his energy growing even more anxious than before. “Calm down. I’m just messing with you. Seriously though, everything okay?” You rest your hand on his chest, smoothing over the soft white cotton of his t-shirt. His chest tenses at your touch, his heart picking up speed. It thumps against your hand like the beating of a drum and you twiddle your fingers along to the tune. “If you ever need anything, Yunie—”

Yunho slips around you to get into the bathroom, knowing he’ll combust if you touch him for any longer. “Thanks but I’m good, really. I just needed to use the bathroom.”

You giggle, turning to bid him farewell, “Well alright then. You have fun in here.”

You’re barely out of the bathroom when Yunho’s pushing the door closed behind you, listening for your footsteps before rushing to the sink to splash cold water on his face. This is borderline embarrassing. All you did was touch his chest and he’s short circuiting. What’s wrong with him? The sensation of something pulsing elsewhere on his body brings his attention down below his waist where a rise in his sweatpants has his cock pressed right up against the edge of the sink. 

“Seriously? This is not the time” he whispers down at it, knowing that there’s no way he can leave the bathroom in this condition. At least not until he’s sure you’re really gone. Reaching down to readjust himself, his attention’s drawn to something blue lying on the ground near his feet. At first he’s unsure what it is, it’s all bundled up, indiscernible from any other fabric, but when he picks it up there’s no mistaking what the lace blue fabric is or who it belongs to. 

Your panties dangle from his fingertips, delicate and pretty, a little silk bow adorning the front band. Yunho’s no stranger to the type of panties that you like to wear—he’s caught a glimpse of them once or twice when your dress was shorter than you might’ve known—but touching them is different and the added knowledge that you’ve worn them has him straining even harder against his boxers. The voice in the back of his head whispers that he should put them back. Leave them right where he found them and walk away before he does something he shouldn’t. 

But there’s another side of him, one that would gnaw its own arm off for any piece of you, and it has him burying his face in your panties, every inhale filling his lungs with the sweetness of your scent. He loses himself in thoughts of what it must be like to have his face pushed between your legs, your pillowy thighs resting on his shoulders as he drags his tongue along your slit. His tongue darts out, soaking the lace and he swears he can taste you. His free hand finds the waistband of his sweatpants, shoving them aside with his boxers in one swift motion to take himself into his hand. 

Yunho hisses at the satisfaction of his palm skimming his length as his cock slips free. “Yunie” you always call him. He doesn’t know when you started calling him that but every time you do it does something to him. Would you call him that while the tip of his tongue’s circling your clit? Would you tug at his hair, grinding yourself against his face, and say “Yunie”? Precum leaks from his cock as he circles the tip, your panties becoming a gag to muffle the sounds escaping his throat. He squeezes his eyes shut, desperate not to catch the slightest glimpse of himself in the mirror. 

The sick part is he doesn’t know if that’d stop him. He should probably feel bad but there’s no room for a conscience right now. There’s only room for you flooding his taste buds. Only room for the pursuit of a high unlike any he’s felt before. The pressure building inside of him is almost too intense, his knees going weak each time he strokes his cock.

Biting down on the fabric, Yunho feels the muscles in his stomach tighten. His slick fingers dance up and down his shaft as he thrusts into his fist. Are you one of those girls who closes her eyes when she cums or do you leave them open? Would you stare down at him with tears in your eyes, your bottom lip quivering just as you’re on the edge of your high?

“Yunie” you whisper into the void of his fantasies, “I told you if you ever needed anything…” 

Your voice sounds so clear. It rings in his ear as if it isn’t coming from the depths of his mind but from you directly. Yunho’s eyes open slowly, cautiously, to find out why it seems that way. Because it is that way. You’re standing right there beside him in your towel, watching him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

When you realized that you’d left your panties behind you didn’t expect to come back to this but you aren’t exactly complaining. You’ve always known that Yunho had a thing for you and the harder he tries to pretend that he doesn’t the more obvious it is. 

You almost feel bad for how much fun you have teasing him when you all hang out together. He probably thinks it’s all accidental. Your hand brushing his when you walk by, your panties peeking out when you bend over, your voice getting a bit lighter when you say his name. All of it’s intentional. Done for the express purpose of seeing how far you can push him before he breaks. Seeing him standing here with your panties stuffed between his lips, his cock leaking all over the tile floor, you figure he must’ve hit his limit. How lucky you are to be here to see it. 

Cupping his cheek, you gently trace his jawline, pressing your body against his side. “Don’t stop,” you coo, staring into his warm brown eyes, “Be a good boy and cum for me.” 

You’re gorgeous. As gorgeous as you were the day he first saw you. Gorgeous enough to make the word “shame” non-existent. His fingers are still wrapped around his shaft, his cock throbbing in his grasp as your lips grow closer to his. When you’re close enough to feel the lace brush your lips, you pluck it away with your teeth, no barriers left between the two of you. He’s trembling, on the verge of falling apart and you’ve never wanted anything more.

“Tell me, Yunie. What’s my pussy taste like?” You tilt your head, brushing his lips with yours, and his body shudders one last time before he’s gushing down his hand, warm droplets of cum marking his sweatpants and pooling on the sink. He pulls away from you, fighting back what’s left of his orgasm as he tries to catch his breath. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck” he whines, reality hitting him like a freight train. Fumbling to fix his pants, he looks back at you to find you giggling.

“You’re so cute you’re flustered” you say, your panties now secure in your hand. You can see him spiraling. The pleasure of his high and the confusion of your reaction splitting his world in two. Approaching him casually, you offer him a quick peck on the cheek. A treat for a job well done. “You might wanna clean yourself up. Oh and thanks for holding onto these for me” you smile, shoving your panties into his pocket, “But you can keep them.” 

Exiting the bathroom as quietly as you came in, you disappear down the hall leaving Yunho alone to pick up the pieces of whatever that moment was. There’s something off about you and now Yunho knows it for sure. But why does that make him want you more? 

“Oh come on! Are you serious?” Mingi yells into his headset, the scene playing out on the TV mere seconds from launching him into a blind rage. 

You’d advised him to do something relaxing before bed. Listen to some rain sounds. Do some yoga. Drink a nice cup of chamomile tea and read a book. Unsurprisingly, jumping on the game with Jongho and Wooyoung wasn’t anywhere at the top of that list. It wasn’t even on it. 

“Stop yelling at him, it’s not his fault!” Jongho shouts back, defending Wooyoung despite knowing that the mistake was kinda his fault. 

“Mingi, what’d we say about yelling?” you ask, shuffling past the war zone on screen to grab something from the dresser. 

Mingi pouts, sitting up in bed, “It’s not my fault, baby. They’re betraying my moral loyalty here.”

Wooyoung scoffs, surely rolling his eyes on the other end, “You’re so dramatic.”

“I am not dramatic!”

Slipping out of your towel, you toss on a baggy shirt and hop into bed with your boyfriend. “You are kinda dramatic” you tease, cuddling up beside him. Mingi throws a look back at you, one ripe with betrayal, and you rub his lower back to soothe the pain. 

Mingi giggles, your fingers like magic to the muscles of his back. “Don’t start. You know that’s my spot.”

Jongho audibly cringes, “Alright. Match over. I’m out before this gets weird.”

“You’re going to bed already?” Mingi whines, “I was just getting started.”

“Tell ‘baby’ we said goodnight” Wooyoung says and Jongho hops right in with him. 

“Goodnight, baby.” 

“They said goodnight” Mingi huffs, his fingers at the ready to click the game off. 

“Goodnight boys!” you sing just before Mingi rips his headset off, tossing it off to the side with his controller.  

Never happy to see Mingi sulking, you take him by the arm, guiding him to lay by your side. He settles right in, tucking his arms around your waist to hold you tight. For all the things he’s tried to help him unwind, nothing’s ever seemed to work as much as being next to you has. Just the feeling of your body beside his like this, your fingers massaging his scalp as he runs his hand along the arch of your hip, is enough to make him forget that anything else in the world exists. It’s one of many reasons he rarely ever lets you leave. You wonder why you’re even paying rent at your place at this point. Outside of work 90% of your time is spent here with Mingi and—

You chew at your bottom lip, recalling what occurred a few minutes ago. You and Mingi aren’t the type to keep secrets from each other. Especially not about something like this. It might be Yunho’s worst nightmare for you to tell him but there would’ve never come a day where you didn’t. 

“Baby” you sigh, playing up an innocent voice that signals to him you’re about to say something not so innocent. 

Mingi grabs his phone, opening it up to check his notifications, “What’d you do?” 

“What’d I do? Why’s it always something I did?”

“You know I didn’t mean it like that” he swears, kissing you on the nose, “So, what’d you do?”

You tug harshly at his hair, your own bit of revenge, “I didn’t do anything, well, I mean, kinda? You know how I had to go back and get my underwear from the bathroom?”

Mingi nods, invested in some message sent to him through the group chat but still allotting some attention to you. 

“Well…” you continue, “I found them and they were kinda…in Yunho’s mouth?”

Mingi begins to type a text message but stops in his tracks at the conclusion of your sentence. “They were what?” 

“He kinda sorta had them in his mouth and his dick was in his hand but it wasn’t, like, weird or anything” you ramble, trying to explain enough that the stunned look on your boyfriend’s face fades. If that were ever possible. 

Mingi responds to you with a long span of silence broken by hysterical laughter. “I knew it! I knew it! I told you. He’s a pervert.”

“Mingi, he’s not a pervert” you scold, finding the word a tad harsh. 

“I mean, I’m a pervert too” he shrugs, “I’m not that much of a pervert though. I knew he liked you but I didn’t know he was that serious about it. That’s kinda pathetic actually.”

“Pathetic? So, what are you saying? You’d never suck on my panties?” you ask, just to get a rise out of him. 

Mingi pinches the bottom of your shirt, raising it up to expose your lack of panties. “If you ever wore any around me maybe.”

You swat his hand away, taking your turn to pout, “That’s not the point, Mingi.”

Dropping his phone, Mingi stares intently at you, seriously contemplating Yunho's actions and your reaction to them. “Then what’s the point? You saw him doing it and what? You liked it?” 

There’s a shift in the bass of his voice, something different about his body language. You know what it looks like when your boyfriend gets jealous and with a few simple words you’ve more than gotten him there.

“I never said I liked it.”

Mingi rests a hand on your leg, skimming along your velvet skin to tuck a thumb right where your thighs kiss. “You never said you didn’t like it. Is that what you want me to be? Some pathetic little boy beating my dick to you cause I can’t have you for myself?” He slides his thumb up higher, coming into contact with your clit and he can already feel how swollen it is. 

A moan threatens to escape you, racing its way to the tip of your tongue but you choke it back, refusing to give him the satisfaction. “What would be so bad about that? Huh? Am I not good enough for you to beg for?” you ask, grabbing his wrist to still the slow circles he makes around your clit. 

Pressing harder against the sensitive nub, he grins at how your hips instinctively raise to meet his touch, “Don’t be a brat. You want it.” Even with the death grip you have on his wrist, he manages to sneak two fingers between your legs, dragging them along your entrance. You can feel yourself clenching, your arousal coating his fingers as he teases your slit. He’s right, you do want it, but you want something else much more. 

“What I want…” you say, your other hand clamping around his wrist, “Is for you to beg for it or you get nothing and I mean nothing.” You push him away, rolling over on your side, your back turned to him in the ultimate act of defiance. “Goodnight, Mingi.” 

It pains you to do this. Your clit’s throbbing from just a few seconds of contact, the warmth pooling below your waist worsening all the while, but you can’t let him have this. You never can. 

Mingi cuddles up behind you, his chin propped up on your shoulder. He’s giving you the eyes, those shimmering brown boba eyes that always make you soft for him, but you aren’t even looking his way. 

“You aren’t really going to sleep are you?” he pouts, sliding a hand up your shirt to squeeze your side. 

You throw out a fake yawn, shifting in bed to get more comfortable, and let your eyes fall closed, pretending he isn’t there. That’s the worst thing you can do to Mingi. Ignore him. Deprive him of your affection. He loves to present himself as indifferent, a man fully unaffected by whether you want him or not, but if you pull away even an inch he’s groveling at your feet. You enjoy it, maybe a little too much, but a girl has to have her fun. 

“Baby, turn back over…” he whispers, trailing kisses up your neck. He stops right behind your ear, his breath tickling the back of your neck, “Please.”

A chill washes over you and you arch your back, pushing your ass back into his growing bulge. You can’t help the faint smile that creeps across your lips at the sound he makes in response. He sounds like he wants you so badly it hurts. Good.

Gently nibbling at your ear, Mingi cups one of your breasts, his thumb and pointer finger coming together to apply light pressure to your nipple as it stiffens for him. “Pretty please. Just turn around. Just look at me, please.” 

The decision to give in isn’t an easy one. You could keep going like this all night if you wanted to, letting him have just enough of you to keep him hard until the sun rises, but you decide not to. Not out of compassion or pity but out of your own selfish desire to see the look on Mingi’s face when he’s this needy. 

Turning to face him, you find yourself far from disappointed at what you see. He has that look, the same one that Yunho did when he realized you were standing beside him, like the sun sets and rises in your eyes. It’s addictive. 

“You want me, Mingi?” you tease, your hand disappearing into his pants to palm the cock that aches so badly for you. You trace the veins along his shaft with your fingertips, feeling the blood rush to its swollen head.  

Mingi’s on the verge of a whimper, his mouth crashing into yours in an attempt to conceal it, but it tumbles out anyway and you stroke him faster, always wanting more. 

“Want you…mmm…need you” he mumbles between sloppy kisses, his arousal coating your palm. “Please…fuck…I need…I need…”

Snatching your hand back, you grab onto his shoulders, rolling him on top of you. You tug your shirt up over your head to leave yourself naked beneath him, your breasts sitting beautifully on your chest. “If you want me then take me.” 

You present it as if it’s a challenge. In a way it is and Mingi has no intention to back down. He’s on you before you can say another word, devouring your figure with his hands. You clumsily help him out of his clothes, tickled by his eagerness. It isn’t that Mingi doesn’t notice your amusement. It’s more so that he doesn’t care when he plans to fuck it right out of you anyway. 

“Mingi!” you squeak when he snatches you up, forcing himself between your legs, your ankles resting at his shoulders, his fingers digging into your plush hips. 

He aligns himself with your entrance, pushing the tip in to watch your juices leak around him and pulling back out at the last second. Licking his lips, he slides two fingers through your folds, rolling your clit between them. “Do you know how pretty you are?” 

“I don’t know” you pant, your body tingling from head to toe, “Show me.” 

Technicolor dots sprinkle your vision as he slams into you all at once, his thickness stretching you beyond what you remembered he could. You can’t control the way your body vibrates in response to the pleasure, the fullness almost too much to handle. Mingi reaches out for your neck, his fingers closing around it as his hips snap into you harder. You feel helpless, completely at his mercy, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

“You’re so fucking wet for me, baby” he grunts, his gaze drifting down to the place where your bodies meet. Each and every time he pulls back his cock’s wetter than before, dripping with juices so decadent he’d get down on his knees and lap them up right now if you asked him to. “You think Yunho could get you this wet? Think he could fuck you like me? Hmm?” 

You part your lips but nothing comes out, just short uneven breaths mimicking the English language. Mingi leans in close to you, his grip loosening, “Can he do it? Can he fuck you like I can?” 

“Aah…n-no…mmph” you moan, holding onto his biceps to keep yourself steady, “Only you, Mingi.” His hand closes around your throat once more and your words are lost again. Hooking an arm behind one of your legs, he pushes your knee to your chest, slipping in even deeper, and your vision blurs with tears, your stangled moans filling the air. 

Mingi can’t get over how precious you are. How ridiculously perfect you look taking his cock. From the first night he met you he knew that no other girl could make him feel the way that you do. You fit him like a glove. It’s like every groove and every dip, all the finer details of your walls, were crafted especially for him. Yunho could never make you feel this way because you weren’t made for him. You were made for Mingi. Even your body knows it. It tells him by the way it responds, clenching around him so tightly that he can barely move. 

“Baby…” you manage, locking your legs around him. You don’t need to say anything else. Your walls spasm so wildly that he can’t ignore the signs. You’re dangerously close and he’s right there with you. He has been from the start. He could’ve cum from the feeling of you alone and it took everything in him not to. 

“Say my name” he commands, reaching between you to play with your clit. 

Your body trembles from the overstimulation. It’s like you’re on a rollercoaster. Higher and higher, so high you’d think you were floating, and then that earth shattering, mind blowing drop.

“Mingi!” you cry his name out loud and clear.

Mingi turns your neck loose, enveloping you in a kiss just in time to spill into you, his seed filling you up deep inside, dripping down your thighs to make a warm sticky mess. Your tongues are still entangled when you both come down. Your spent bodies melting into each other’s. 

“You can have your fun” Mingi whispers between your lips, “Just make sure you remember who you belong to.” 

He eases down on the bed, resting his head on your chest, and you run your fingers through his hair, planting a kiss on his forehead. You smile to yourself, knowing that you got exactly what you wanted in every way. How cute it is that Mingi thinks you’re the one that belongs to him when he’s the one who belongs to you. 

He can’t go out there. Yunho’s been pacing his bedroom floor for 15 minutes trying to figure out what to do. But whatever he does he can’t go out there. He thought that if he woke up early enough he’d be able to prevent this but by the time he finished brushing his teeth you were both wide awake. Now he can hear the two of you in the kitchen, playing your music and cooking breakfast like you always do.

He turns to his bedroom window, contemplating how bad a fall from the 6th floor could really be. He’s tall enough to make it…maybe? Maybe he could call out of work. He has enough vacation days to make up for it. He could just crawl back into bed and pretend to be sick, hiding away until both of you left the apartment. 

The possibility dawns on him that you haven’t told Mingi at all. If you had, he probably would’ve murdered Yunho in his sleep. If not then why? What reason could you have for keeping this a secret? Then again, what reason do you have for anything you do?

“What? Are you dead?” Mingi says, bursting into Yunho’s room, nearly giving him a heart attack. 

Yunho tries to act natural, scrambling to pick up a few things from the floor to pretend he’s cleaning. “Knock much?” 

Mingi pats him on the back, throwing an arm around his shoulder. “Stop being so sassy. Breakfast is ready. Come eat with us.”

“I-I can’t. I have to get ready for work.” 

“You don’t work for what? Another hour? You’ve got time. Come on” Mingi insists, emptying the contents of Yunho’s arms onto the nearby bed. 

Yunho stands frozen, unsure what to do. He’s always found Mingi’s stubbornness charming but in this moment he completely despises it. “I told you I can’t—”

“Let’s go!” Mingi cheers, yanking Yunho out towards the kitchen before he can think of protesting again. 

Yunho blinks, his eyes adjusting to the bright sunny kitchen where you dance around the table pouring drinks into three glasses. The plates are already set, the delicious aroma of an expertly cooked breakfast filling the apartment. Your food’s always the best, he usually rushes to the table to inhale it, but today he stares at it like it’s been secretly poisoned. 

“Good morning, Yunie” you sing, twirling past him to place the container of juice back in the fridge. 

Yunho takes a seat, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than he’d like it to. You’re wearing the same shirt from last night with the addition of a pair of rose pink panties and some cute mismatched socks from Mingi’s favorite anime. Your hair’s messy but not a mess and you’ve yet to put your makeup on. Both men prefer you like this but only one can admit it. 

Mingi sits across from him, digging right into his meal. “So…” he says through a mouthful of food, “Are we going to Wooyoung’s party later or what?” 

“Eat” you whisper, gesturing towards Yunho’s plate and he does. “I don’t know, baby. I just have this feeling that somehow you’re gonna end up on that stupid fucking game and I’ll just be sitting there bored by myself. Unless, of course, Yunie’s gonna come keep me company.” 

Yunho nearly chokes on his food, rushing to take a sip of his drink to wash it down. “Keep you company? I don’t think…I mean…I don’t really know if I’ll have time. I’m kinda busy tonight” 

Mingi tilts his head, eyeing Yunho curiously, “You’re acting weird today. What’s up with you?”

“Weird? I’m not acting weird.” 

“Mingi, leave him alone” you sigh, easing down into Mingi’s lap. You pick a strawberry from the plate of fruit at the center of the table, flicking the leaves away. “If he doesn’t wanna come, he doesn’t wanna come. Maybe our boy has a date or something.”

“I don’t have a date” Yunho’s forcing out so quickly the worlds almost get jumbled. There've been girls in the past, too many to remember, but lately he’s found himself uninterested in them, his brain too preoccupied with one in particular to focus on any others, and for some reason he finds himself longing for you to know that. 

You take a bite of the strawberry, your lips pursed sensually around the fruit. Some juice drips down your chin and you wipe it away, licking it from your fingers. “So you’ll come for me then, Yunie?” 

Yunho’s jaw nearly drops to the floor. You couldn't have said what he thought you said. He must still be half asleep. “I’m sorry. What’d you just say?” 

“You’ll come for me. To the party.” 

“Oh…yeah, the party. I’ll come.” 

Turning back to feed Mingi the remainder of the strawberry, you share a knowing glance before turning back to Yunho. 

“What did you think she said?” Mingi asks, honing in on Yunho’s weak spot like a trained sniper ready to pull the trigger. 

It’s quiet enough to hear a pin drop. No one moves. No one speaks. Yunho’s so nervous it’s oozing off of him and you can feel it creeping across the table right into your lap. Just as the tension becomes unbearable you and Mingi erupt into laughter giving Yunho the feeling that there’s a joke he isn’t in on and he doesn’t like it one bit. 

“Thank you for the food but I really should get ready for work” he huffs, pushing his chair back to get up. 

“No, wait, hold on!” you say, hopping from Mingi’s lap right into Yunho’s. You poke out your bottom lip, batting your eyelashes at him sweetly. “I didn’t make you mad did I?” 

“I’m not mad at you, I—” his sentence trails off as he registers where you are. Straddling his lap…with no pants on…and your boyfriend sitting close enough to punch his teeth out. 

Yunho keeps his hands at his sides, careful not to touch you, but that does nothing to stop you from touching him. Brushing his hair out of his face, you subtly grind yourself down onto his lap, marveling at how handsome he looks fresh out of bed. “You look sexy with your hair pushed back. You should wear it like that tonight.” 

“Y-you should get up” he stutters, dodging any chance of eye contact with Mingi. He doesn’t want to push you off but he doesn’t want to get hit either. 

“Do you want me to get up or do you think he does?” Placing your arms around Yunho’s neck, you lace your fingers together, leaning your head back to address your boyfriend. “Baby, you want me to get up?” Mingi shakes his head, fully invested in the plate of food in front of him. “See? My boyfriend says ‘Yes’. What do you say?” 

Yunho takes a deep breath, the room suddenly feeling ten times smaller than it previously was. “What do I say about what?”

Mingi takes another quick bite of his food, rising from his seat to stand beside you. You look up at him with the brightest smile. His little demon. “What do you say about her?” he says, kissing you so deeply you almost tip out of Yunho’s lap. When he breaks from the kiss he pets your hair as your lips drift closer to Yunho’s mouth. 

“You want me, Yunie, yes or no?” you ask despite being able to feel the answer stiffening between your legs. 

Yunho hesitates, his eyes flicking back and forth between Mingi and you. Mingi. You. Mingi. You. Mingi. You. Yunho grabs your face, kissing you hungrily, months of pent up tension pouring onto your lips. You must admit, you didn’t know he had this in him. There’s enough passion to get drunk off of and you’re ready to down every shot of it he’ll give you.

Not one to share you too much, Mingi grabs the back of your neck, pouring his everything into another kiss. He only has you to himself for a split second before Yunho’s pulling you back to him. You find yourself breathless, being bounced back and forth between two men so quickly that everything’s a blur. There’s a mouth on you at all times. Pressed to your own. Kissing your neck. Marking your collarbone. 

Tilting you back towards the table, Yunho pushes your shirt up, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth. It fills the space between his cheeks, muffling his moans as he twirls his tongue around your bud. Still kissing you, Mingi reaches down to cup the other, enjoying the weight of it in his hand.

“Mmph, harder” you moan for both of them to hear. 

They’re beyond happy to do as you ask. Yunho’s teeth and Mingi’s fingers closing around your nipples. You can’t touch your panties to say for sure but you know they must be wet. Completely soaked through. Ruined.

Reaching your hand out to hold onto Mingi’s leg, you mistakenly come in contact with his clothed cock. The first brush may be an accident but the second isn’t and neither is the third. Determined not to let Yunho feel left out, you squeeze your hand between your bodies, massaging his bulge through his pants. Neither man can hide the ecstasy of what you’re doing to them, rutting themselves against your palm and moaning like it’s the best thing they’ve felt in their lives. 

What’s that word Mingi used to describe Yunho again? “Pathetic” was it? What would he call himself now? Is this not pathetic? Is this not pitiful? For you it’s none of the above and both in the same breath. They’re both pitiful in a needy, endearing sense. In a sense that you want them to be this way over you and only you. There was once a day where you couldn’t imagine anything better than one man who’s willing to worship you but now you know there’s something much better. Two. 

Tucking a finger between the band of Mingi’s underwear and his bare skin, you tug at the elastic. “Gimmie” you command, your head back, tongue sticking out to the sky. You do the same to Yunho and your body rises as he rocks his hips, freeing himself from the confines of his pants. 

Yunho’s heard you with Mingi before. The walls in this apartment aren’t the thickest and you’re far from one of the quieter girls Mingi’s been with. He’s gotten off to the sound a couple of times, picturing how you might look in all manner of ways, but he never imagined he’d actually be here to watch you open your mouth expectantly, taking Mingi’s cock to the back of your throat like gag reflexes don’t exist. 

Mingi strokes your cheeks, admiring how puffy they get with him filling them up. “You’re doing so well, baby, fuck…” he beams and you wiggle your tongue on the underside of his shaft, relaxing the muscles of your throat to take him better. In your hand Yunho’s dripping with enough arousal for your hand to smoothly skate up and down his length, circling the rim with your thumb before massaging it back to the base.

You easily set a rhythm, perfectly balancing the two. Mingi in your mouth and Yunho in your hand. The arch of your tongue. The rotation of your wrist. With Mingi it’s simple, you know what he likes and you know how to do it, but with Yunho it’s different. You have to learn him as you go. Which spots make him quiver. Which angles make him twitch. Lucky for the both of you, you’re a quick learner and symphony of hushed moans whispers that you’re doing it just right. 

Keeping an arm looped around your waist, Yunho gradually pushes your panties aside, giving you every opportunity to protest. When all you do is push your hips toward him he takes it as a sign, rolling his thumb through the warmth of your folds to find your clit. Your body jerks when he bumps up against it, a melodic hum of satisfaction vibrating around Mingi’s cock.

You lift your hips letting another of Yunho’s fingers slide along your entrance. When you come back down his finger slips in, your drenched hole sucking it right up. There’s an audible squelching as he swishes his finger around, your juices already leaking down into his palm. His fingertip finds that soft, spongy spot inside of you and curls into it, and you rock into him. Your body’s way of saying, “Yes. More. Please.” Yunho hears you loud and clear, pressing harder, delving deeper. 

Hearing your moans turn to strained whines, Mingi grabs the back of your head, gliding himself out of your mouth until just the head of his cock rests at the edge of your tongue. His cock’s still pulsing, pink and glistening with your spit, as the tip traces your puffy lips leaving them shimmering with his precum. You wiggle your tongue, pushing your head forward to draw him back in but he doesn’t let you. 

“Breathe for me” he says, teasing you with an inch, “I can’t have my baby girl choking, can I?” 

Following his instructions you take a few deep breaths, feeling the cool rush of air through your lungs. You hadn’t even noticed the deprivation and the sudden introduction of hair leaves your head spinning. 

“You okay?” Yunho asks, running a comforting hand across the small of your back. 

“I’m okay” you smile as cutely as you ever have, offering Mingi the same confirmation. “I’m okay so give it back to me now.” 

“You want it that badly?” he asks and you nod impatiently. “Then take it.”

Mingi thrusts into your mouth, stealing away your last breath of precious air. With how hard he’s fucking your throat you’d think it’s been weeks. You’d think he wasn’t just inside of you last night making you scream his name like it’s the only word you know.

Drool leaks down your chin, your hollowed out cheeks greedily accepting everything he gives you. Yunho sneaks another finger inside of you, scissoring you open, spreading you wide, his thumb still rubbing your clit at a merciless pace. At the start you were intentional, calculating your every move, but now your movements are mindless. You’re a slave to pleasure and everything else is secondary. 

In the midst of it all an odd feeling overcomes you. A tugging at your heart that makes you think that you never want this to end. You could stay like this forever. Spend every single morning with them like this. It may not be holding hands in the park on a sunny day but there’s something romantic about this moment. Something tender in the perversion of it all. The reason behind it begins to surface. A word that you try to chase away as soon as it begins to spell itself out. L…Lo…Lov…

“Oh god…” Yunho gasps, his eyes widening in shock at the suddenness of his orgasm. 

He hadn’t even felt it coming, he just knew he had at least a few more minutes in him, but here he is spilling all over your hand, covering your black nail polish in a sheet of white. He fingers you harder, bouncing you in his lap, wanting you to hit your high before he comes down from his.

The warmth of his cum splashing against your exposed pussy is enough to make you lose control and you give him just what he wants, your body going limp as your orgasm crashes into you like a wave. You feel a vacancy in your throat and open your mouth to scream but it’s muffled by a sudden rush of liquid cascading across your tongue. Mingi keeps your head steady as he empties himself into you, making sure you don’t miss a drop, and you lap it up happily, kissing the tip as he pulls out. 

There’s a whooshing in your ears and your limbs feel like jello. You’re a sticky little mess who can barely hold herself up and you love it. You love it so much. Planting a clumsy, dizzy kiss on your lips, Mingi stumbles back to his seat, almost missing his chair as he plops down. Yunho tucks himself back into his pants and you spin back around to face Mingi, elbows propped up on the table, chin resting in your palms. 

“So…” you say, still gasping for air, “You boys still got room for breakfast?”

[r3starttt]

TUTOR ME, BABY?

PAIRING: Bimbo! Abby x Nerd! reader

SUMMARY: Pretty blonde who doesn't get physics falls for the pretty Nerd. They smash, hard. at the very end...

CW: cliche cringe scenarios...yummy. Sarcastic, too sweet, too nervous, too cute Abby. She's so confident hehe. Sub Abby. Fingering. Lots of praising. Abby being babied ♡

AN: I enjoyed this. Forgot how to write segsy shit I'm so sorry about it. This is so not abby so if you expect that... get out of here? This is a bimbo in Abby’s body, so HAWTTTTTT.

Answering to a request btw... I will do perv Bimbo Abby ft pink vibrator if this doesn't flopp... anon... beware. Don't cancel me ♡ thx ily

TAGLIST: @twopeopleequalsfour-blog @greysontheidiot @sapphic-ovaries @bilsvlt @tlouloser @marsworlddd @1-800-fantasy @thesevi0lentdelights @lvlymicha @stickycherritart @abbys-muscles @usuck @thalchmy @lovelyy-moonlight

Abby Anderson had never noticed another girl the way she noticed you.

She hadn't noticed anyone for the matter. Not in years, at least. Not after Owen.

He was just a silly crush she had, a few drunk kisses. But one had ever touched her like he did. Not so easy to forget.

You saw her for physics, with her pink claw clip holding her glossy waves, cherry lip gloss reapplied twice before walking in class. Her volleyball hoodie hangs off one shoulder as she holds nothing but a Hello Kitty pencil case (even though there’s barely anything inside but gum, a black pen that looks like new and the number of a nail tech she likes).

She doesn’t usually sit at the front, it's try-hard territory. But today, she’s right behind you. Pink backpack unzipped, a lollipop in her mouth, blinking at the back of your head like you’re a riddle she can’t quite figure out. She likes your hair.

Abby heard your name once during roll call and whispered it to herself the whole walk back to her dorm. Just to remember it.

Abby knows physics. Like, barely. She passes.

She's insanely smart for every single subject, even without notes she somehow stays top of the class. But for this one specifically? nor the class or the teacher help her. She feels her body weighting a ton every single time she goes through the door and sees the teacher already standing there, always early and struggling with the computer.

So it takes a week, but eventually she talks to you.

“Hey,” she quietly tugs at the edge of your shirt, above your shoulderd. And you turn around, nodding. "Yes?"

“Sooo... I kinda need help? With this physics thing?”

You blink at her. “Mhm?” Maybe– and hopefully– she was referring to the current problem you'd barely solved and not something else.

"You’re just, like… really smart. And I’m really not. My brain just goes blank when he talks.”

You let out a tiny laugh.

Abby straights up.

At least she made you laugh.

“So maybe,” she continues, chewing her lip, “we could… do a tutoring thing? I can totally pay you! Or bring snacks. Or—like—carry your books or whatever you need. Seriously. I’m strong.”

You look down at your notes, thinking.

And both Abby and you are so sure you're gonna say no. But the words leave your lips before any regrets or doubts. "Yeah. We could try.”

And that’s how it starts.

She shows up at the library the next day in the tiniest pink cropped hoodie that says Angel in glitter. She’s holding two iced coffees and a whole bag of sour candy. She doesn’t even like sour candy. You do.

“You brought all that for me?”

“I just didn’t know what you liked,” she shrugs, “so I panic-bought everything.”

You laugh again. And Abby melts.

It's genuinely ridiculous how touch starved she is.

Every word out of your mouth sounds like heaven. Every time you point at the textbook, she pretends she doesn’t get it just so you’ll keep explaining. She starts braiding her hair and chewing on her pain, lets her fingers graze yours when you both reach for the highlighter.

And when she finally gets the excercise right, you shoot your shot, “See? You are smart,” and Abigail turns scarlet. Because you are so ridiculously soft spoken with her and your smile is so pretty she cannot control herself.

From then on, she’s everywhere. Outside your lecture hall. In line behind you at the café.

She even starts wearing your favorite color on purpose. And you notice.

Tutoring turns sacred though. One-on-one sessions in her house or your dorm where she listens, always—no gum, no phone, no nothing but her eyes on you, and the book, and the notebook, and you again.

And you stare back, eventually. You notice her biting her gloss of her lips every time she struggles and panics. And you remind her she's smart every single time it happens, to try and program her brain in a more positive way.

It works.

She manages a better score than you on the next test, to say the least.

And you're so sure tutoring will stop, she doesn't need your anymore and that's how it works. For her friends it does.

They look for the smart kid, pay them, leave.

Surprising enough was that she tried and didn't straight asked you to answer her test for her or some other shit.

But that's exactly why you should've known better. Because Abigail didn't leave you alone after that.

She kept finding excused at first, learning your schedule and walking through the halls when you did, waving at you from afar, taking time away from her friends to approach to you and ask how your day or week was going.

Then she chose social media to bother you, or that's what she thought.

You found it cute, how she'd somehow gotten every single one of your accounts and how she would talk with you like you've been friends forever. How she would reply to your stories with hearts or "you look so pretty."

You always smiled at her, yes, but your resting bitch face for the rest of the time made her feel like she was imagining it all and you were just being nice. It still made her stomach twist a little, the fact that you smiled at her despite it all.

At one point she had to make something up. A quick text on a Friday. "Tutor me? pls." With no explanation.

And you said yes, why would you reject that opportunity?

-

She waited for you and drove you to her house in her red huge truck. It was so pretty and so hers.

All drive home was her playing Taylor swift and rambling about literally everything. Her coach. Her teammates. What she had for lunch.

You just nodded. Like always. Soft hums, little smiles. You’d look at her when she laughed.

When you arrived, her dad didn’t even blink. Just waved like you were part of the furniture now, which, in Abby’s world, you kind of were.

And you noticed—again—how there were always two of everything now.

Two drinks in the fridge. Two packs of candy she didn't even likes.

You noticed. You always noticed.

“Hey.” Abby’s voice brought you back to the room. She was already by the desk, legs crossed on the chair, chewing loud on something, her pen between her fingers. The books were opened and messily stacked like always.

You blinked. “Sorry. What do you need help with?” Your steps quiet as you walked over, sitting beside her like you always did.

And then it started.

Abby leaned too close, pointed at the most obvious answer with her finger just to hear you say it. She laughed when you got all serious. Bit her lip when you explained something softly. Looked at your mouth. Looked and looked.

Until finally, you blurted it out—too overwhelmed, too curious to pretend anymore.

“Why are you doing all this?”

Abby paused, bubblegum halfway to a pop. “All what?”

You gestured vaguely. “This. The coffee. The rides. The—buying me stuff. Like… do you treat all your friends like this?”

And that’s when her smile shifted. No more giggles.

She leaned back a little. Eyebrows up.

“Oh,” she said, voice syrupy. “You think I’m trying to friend you?”

Silence.

You froze. Not like you didn't know.

But did she mean this?

“I mean,” you mumbled. “Maybe...?”

She scoffed—actually scoffed—then leaned forward slowly, one hand on the back of your chair, the other reaching to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

“You think I’d do all this for a friend?” she whispered, smiling like she already knew your answer. “Baby, no offense, but I don’t even like most of my friends.”

Then—without any hesitation—she kissed you.

Just leaned in and pressed her glossy lips to yours. Bubblegum sweet. Warm. Confident.

It was so... hers.

And then she pulled back, a shiny smear of lip gloss smudged across both of your mouths. Which she licked, shamelessly. “You’re really pretty.”

You sat there, blinking. Lips parted. Brain short-circuited.

She grinned, and you were still so sure it was to make fun of you. “Just wanted to return the favor. You’ve been making me feel like the smartest girl alive. It’s only fair I make you feel like the prettiest.”

You blinked.

Still not breathing.

Still hesitating on whether you should bite or lick your lips.

Abby just went back to flipping pages of her book like it was nothing.

“—so this one’s the, uh… fuck i forgot the name, wait." She said, tapping her pen on the textbook as she tried to remember. Her voice wobbled. Barely. “I feel like this one’s the...” And trailed off.

“You just kissed me,” you said, dumbly. Out loud. Like an idiot. Pretty stupid of you. Stupid.

Abby sat up straighter. Smoothed her hair like that would fix anything.

“Yeah,” she said. “I did.”

You blinked again. Your lips still tingled.

“Why?”

Abby let out the tiniest, tiniest laugh. Then she stopped pretending to read, leaning back in her chair, all flustered and brave at the same time. It was cute.

“Because.” She said, eyes soft and that stupid sheepish smile of hers.

She tucked her legs underneath her, sitting cross-legged once again.

“I thought… maybe you’d kiss me back.”

You blinked again. “I would’ve. I mean. I didn’t know I was allowed to.”

Abby looked up at that. Beamed.

“You’re always allowed to kiss me,” she said, fast. “Like—anytime.”

You choked on a laugh.

You’d never been good at this. Never been wanted like this.

So you whispered, “I don’t get it.”

Abby leaned forward, arms draped across her desk. “Get what?”

“You could have anyone.”

She blinked. “So...you?” It was so obvious for her. It had to be you.

The room went quiet. Just the hum of her AC. The scent of her perfume and her bubblegum. Her soft pink hoodie sleeves dragging along the desk as she reached out to touch your hand, gently.

“You make me feel smart. Not just pretty or hot." Like that simple statement explained it all. And it did, because you somehow knew her so well, anything she could ever say would make sense for you.

And she smiled again—eyes sparkling, voice teasing now.

“But if you don’t kiss me back...”

So you kissed her.

A little awkward. A little desperate.

You leaned over the desk, hand on her cheek, and kissed her like you’d been thinking about it for weeks. And you kinda had.

And Abby? She melted. Like she always did around you.

Made the softest noise. Grabbed your waist and pulled you a little closer.

“Mm,” she hummed against your lips, grinning, pink-cheeked. She was in pure bliss.

-

And after that? God was she annoying.

"My girlfriend" was her daily statement. She bragged about you like she did about her favorite coffee and her new clothes and her gloss and her muscles and her smart ass and her everything.

And when she had class with you? she couldn't pay attention for the first month, really. She could only look at you and text you between class so the teacher wouldn't notice she had no clue on whatever they were teaching.

Always complimenting you and flirting.

"I like your shirt."

"Love your hair today."

"You look so pretty rn. Wanna kiss you so bad Babe ;("

And you felt your body warm every single time, wanting nothing more than to turn around and look at her face for hours, hold her hand and kiss her then. She was just the prettiest girl ever, and she was yours.

So yours she made sure you had a hoodie to see her when she practiced and later when she was kicking assess.

You didn't yell, just sat front row for her and clapped every time she scored for her team.

-

After the game, she was glowing. A little damp from sweat, hair tied up all messy, her cheeks pink from running around, adrenaline still buzzing through her arms. She practically ran into the locker room, only to peek back out again five minutes later with wet hair and a towel slung around her neck, now wearing a loosened white shirt and some pink sweatpants like usual.

“You stayed,” her tone betrayed her excitement. It made you smile.

You looked up from your phone. Still sitting on the little bench right outside the locker room like the most loyal girlfriend on Earth.

“Yup."

She melted. Literally looked like she might short-circuit.

Abby leaned down until her face was right in front of yours, hands braced on the bench by your thighs, her damp hair falling over her shoulder.

“You looked real pretty tonight, wearing my hoodie,” she whispered, glancing down.

You blinked. Swallowed. She was so close. Smelled like shampoo and body spray.

Her eyes dipped down. Looked at your lips.

“You gonna kiss me?” she teased.

And at your abscence or response, she kissed you instead, with one hand slipping around the back of your neck like she couldn’t wait a second longer.

She kissed you like she’d earned it. Like you were her prize for winning.

And when she pulled away—cheeks pink, eyes soft—she tilted her head. “Sleep over tonight?” She paused, looking into your eyes. "Pretty please?"

But quickly rambled at the mortified look on your face. "God—we don't have to do anything. I'm sorry."

You quickly nodded, cupping her face. "I know." But did you?

-

Because somehow you'd ended on top of her lap, holding her shoulders as she moaned against your lips. Hands on your hips and fingers sliding into the back pockets of your jeans to not so discreetly grab your ass.

She called your name between kisses, a smile on her pretty glossy lips, as usual. "You—sure?" Abby almost whimpered.

I mean, her dad was not home until late at night, she was freshly showered and smelled so good and looked so good—

"Yeah, I'm sure." You nodded eagerly, your voice breathlessly against her before you could think straight.

Your fingers unzipped her pink hoodie, taking it off her without questioning. It was urgent.

And then you slid your hands under her shirt. Fuck was she strong.

Your lips never left hers, and if they did, Abby would chase them back, cupping at the back of your neck and humming like she was starving. And she kinda was, ever since you accepted tutoring.

She wasn't wearing a bra, never did. Yet, nothing could've prepared you for the feeling of her hardened nipples between your fingers. So soft and tender you were almost afraid of hurting her.

"Fuck." She whimpered, tilting her head back as she guided your face close to her neck.

Your knee pressed between her thighs as you did, lifting her shirt up enough to reveal her body. She was by far the pretties girl you've ever seen in your whole existence. And she deserved to know.

"You're so pretty." Followed by a kiss on her abdomen, toned beneath your touch. "So, so pretty, Abby."

She was already squirming, widening her legs for you.

And you went back to her lips, leaning in for a messy kiss while your fingers slid under her clothes, straight into her clit, rubbing small circles against it.

There could never be a greater pleasure than this. Feeling her so wet for you, and seeing her eyebrows curved in bliss. Feeling her lips wide open as she gasps like your taking all the oxygen from her body.

"Yeah? that feels good, baby?" Your tone gentle and quiet, brushing some hairs off her face before cupping at her cheek and leaving a kiss on the bridge of her nose. "Just relax, yeah?"

And you don't have to ask her twice.

Abby crumbles beneath you, clenching at nothing every time you slide your fingers down her wet folds.

She's done it before, but it never felt like this.

"Please..." she whimpered, holding your wrist and guiding you lower. You slid the tip of your middle finger inside her, just teasing. And she moaned, covering her lips with her hand. "Ohhh, is that what you want?" Your tone quiet.

Abby nodded, blabbering a bunch of Yes and opening her eyes just enough to meet yours. "Come here." Her tone whiny and breathlessly as she cupped at your face, kissing you for the millionth time.

And then you slid your finger entirely, pumping it in and out, slow and gentle. "Oh fuck." She broke the kiss to look down at your hand under her pants, it made her even more aroused. "Fuck—ugh."

You were slow, taking your time and admiring every single subtle change in her face and voice. She was simply the prettiest.

You then added a second finger. Rubbing small circles on her clit, just as slow as your thrusts. "Does that feel good, Abby?" The innocence in which you spoke— Abby was in heaven.

"Y-Yeah, just don't stop."

No, you wouldn't.

Really.

[fatecantstopme]

Destination: Motel Feelings

Pairing: Tyler Owens x plus size!reader

Summary: Two friends. One bed. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: it’s just a whole lot of smut, with a droplet of fluff. Cursing, use of pet names, self-esteem/body image issues. Oral (M & F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), pretty fluffy sex overall.

“At least this motel is cleaner than the last one,” you mumbled as you entered the main lobby.

The motel was small, as most were in bumbfuck, Oklahoma, but it would have to do for the night.

“Who’s bunking with me this round?” Boone asked.

“Dexter’s with you. Dani and Lily are sharing, and then it’s me and Tyler,” you answered.

Since the six of you traveled together regularly, you’d made it a point to rotate sleeping arrangements to make it fair. This week was your week to bunk with Tyler. You always hated when it was just you and him, not because of anything he did, but because of how awkward you felt the entire time.

It wasn’t your fault he was gorgeous and charming and funny and smart…the combination of which made you want him with an unhealthy desperation. He was your favorite person to be around, but never alone. You needed a buffer to keep you from being incredibly awkward, or gods forbid, telling him how you felt.

You were certain Tyler wouldn’t be mean about your feelings or make you feel bad, but you were equally certain you weren’t his type. You’d met a fair amount of guys that looked as good as him, and not a single one of them was ever interested in you. You weren’t ashamed of your body, but you weren’t exactly comfortable being the only overweight person in your friend group.

You'd long since accepted the curves that came with puberty, curves that had only grown as you'd gotten older. Not a single part of you was what you would deem small, other than perhaps your height. You had large boobs and the back pain to accompany them, along with hips and an ass you were convinced could stop traffic. Your stomach had long been your biggest hurdle--and your main point of self-consciousness. Suffice it to say you were soft...and Tyler was very much not.

"You don't sound excited to be sharing a room with me, darlin'," Tyler teased lightly from behind you.

You chuckled in response. "I think I'd sell my kidney to stay in a hotel room without any of you for a week."

The rest of the team laughed while Boone and Dexter stepped up to the counter to check-in. Dani went next, grabbing room keys for her and Lily. The four of them went upstairs to throw their bags down, with a promise to be back in the lobby in 10 minutes for dinner.

You and Tyler smiled at the older woman behind the counter as you gave your name to check-in. The woman frowned slightly as she looked at her computer screen.

"Is everything alright?" Tyler asked gently.

"Well, it seems there was a bit of a mix up," she began. "We actually only have one room available."

"That's fine," you reasoned. "We only need one."

The woman nodded, but her expression still looked mildly uncomfortable. "It's--uh--it's a single."

You froze, contemplating the meaning of her words.

"Is there a couch?" Tyler asked, saving you from the discomfort.

She nodded, a look of relief crossing her face. "There is!"

"Then we'll take it," Tyler said with a smile.

A few minutes later, the two of you had your keys and were on the way upstairs to your room. You unlocked the door and barked out a laugh as you took in the space.

Tyler stepped in behind you and let out a low groan. "That's the couch?"

You laughed harder. "I didn't know they made couches that small. It's comical."

Tyler sighed and tossed his bag onto the freakishly small couch. "It's only for a night, right?"

You winced slightly. "At least two...possibly three."

"Shit," he mumbled.

"Ty, I'm not making you sleep on that tiny thing. You're over 6 feet tall...I don't even think you'll fit."

You both turned your attention to the bed on the other side of the room. Somehow, the queen sized bed looked dauntingly small to you.

"I'll, uh, take the couch," you offered.

"This thing looks like it's older than we are," Tyler muttered. "I wouldn't want my worst enemy sleeping on this thing, let alone you."

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely a text from Boone or Lily reminding you about dinner. "We'll figure it out after dinner. I'm starving."

Tyler nodded his agreement and followed you back down to the lobby where the rest of the team was waiting.

**********

By the time dinner was over and you'd said goodnight to the rest of the team, you'd nearly forgotten the predicament awaiting you in your room. Reality smacked you in the face the moment you opened the door and stepped back into the small space, a deep sigh settling in your chest.

"Why don't you get a shower first and I'll figure out how to make this work," Tyler said gently.

You just nodded, not wanting to consider the most logical solution to this particular issue. You grabbed your bag and entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You made quick work of your shower and nighttime preparations, slipping on an oversized t-shirt and a pair of very short shorts.

You stared in the mirror for a moment, lost in a wave of self-consciousness. Every dimple in your thighs was visible, the soft flesh jiggling with your movements. You'd forgotten to throw a pair of pj pants in your bag before leaving home this time, so the shorts were all you had. You sighed, knowing it wasn't gonna get any better than it currently was, so you grabbed your bag and went back out into the room.

Tyler was lying on the floor, a singular blanket and pillow his only form of bedding.

A light laugh accompanied your words as you took in the sight before you. "What the heck are you doing?"

Tyler looked up with an uncomfortable shrug. "Sleeping on the floor. What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're insane," you said lightly. "I don't even want to know how disgusting these floors are...I would much rather sleep on the couch than let you sleep on the floor all night."

"Having sat on the couch already, I can promise you the floor is more comfortable."

You scoffed. "Impossible." You crossed the room and dropped onto the couch with an oomph. "Jesus--this thing is a rock."

Tyler laughed at your obvious discomfort. "I told you. There's no way I'm letting you sleep on that thing. At least one of us needs to get a good night's sleep."

"So why don't you sleep on the bed and I'll sleep on the floor."

Tyler glared at you. "Not happening, sweetheart. My mama raised me better than that."

You rolled your eyes. "No offense, Tyler, but I think you're a little too old to sleep on the floor these days. You're gonna wake up with a slipped disk and a hernia."

His laughter brought a smile to your face. "I'm not that old, (Y/N)."

"Well I'm definitely that old--and I'm a year younger than you."

He smirked as he pulled himself off the floor. "You're taking the bed, you muppet."

Your jaw dropped, a choked laugh escaping your throat. "Did you just call me a muppet?"

"Yes I did and I don't regret it." He grabbed his bag and rushed past you to get to the bathroom before you could find something to throw at him.

"Muppet," you murmured under your breath. "He's the muppet."

"I heard that!"

"Get in the shower, Owens!" you laughingly yelled back.

You unceremoniously dropped onto the bed, a sigh breezing past your lips. You were tired and the thought of having the entire bed to yourself was a pleasant one...until you sat up and looked at the makeshift bed on the cold, hard, unforgiving floor.

You knew there was no way you could let him sleep on the floor. While the comments about his age had been a joke, you were both in your 30s now and sleeping wrong could genuinely fuck you up for days. You absolutely couldn't make him sleep on the damn floor.

You glanced at the empty bed beside you and groaned. Sharing a bed with Tyler ranked very highly on your list of most horrifying situations. There was a high probability you would actually combust from embarrassment alone. What if you did something weird in your sleep? What if you kicked him or pushed him out of the bed? What if you accidentally tried to cuddle with him? You would die of mortification.

While you were contemplating all the ways this could go horribly wrong, Tyler came out from the bathroom clad in his boxers and a scandalously tight white t-shirt. You bit your lip, looking away from him hurriedly. You could feel the blush heating your cheeks and you prayed he wouldn't notice.

You cleared your throat quietly before gesturing to the bed beside you. You couldn't quite meet his gaze as you said, "You're not sleeping on the floor, so you might as well take half the bed."

Tyler raised his eyebrows even though he knew you weren't looking his way. "You sure, sweetheart? I don't wanna impose."

You shrugged. "We're adults, Ty. I think we can manage to share a bed for a couple nights without making it weird."

He noticed you still hadn't met his gaze, a fact he chose to ignore. Instead, he opted to use the moment to his advantage, blue-green eyes sweeping over your form, noting the exposed, soft flesh of your legs. He had twin urges to sink his teeth into your thighs and feel them wrap around his head until he couldn't breathe. He quickly shook the image out of his head before those impure thoughts could make their way below the belt line.

"We can put a pillow in the middle if you want," he offered sweetly.

"The bed is a little small for that--besides, we only have three pillows on this damn bed and I'm using two of them."

Tyler chuckled as he scooped up his pillow from the floor and placed it beside yours. He lowered himself onto the bed, feeling the mattress dip with his weight. "Why do you get two pillows and I only get one?"

"Because you like to sleep as flat as possible like some sort of psychopath."

Tyler laughed heartily, his grin widening as he took in the small smile gracing your face. "A psychopath?"

"Retaliation for calling me a muppet."

He laughed again, smacking you gently with his pillow. The action earned him a glare, followed by a slow, teasing smirk. His mind went blank as you finally made eye contact with him. Your pupils swallowed up nearly all of your irises thanks to the dim lighting and the singular lamp on his bedside table cast the prettiest glow on your skin. The only thought that crossed his mind was the word 'radiant'.

He swallowed thickly, forcing the word back down his throat before he could blurt it out. You'd never once given him an indication you felt the same way he did, and the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

"Alright, weirdo. Turn off that light so we can go to sleep," you murmured, breaking the spell of the moment.

Tyler did as you asked before settling more comfortably into the bed. You laid on your side, back to him, and he felt the urge to run his fingers through your hair--yet another urge he immediately suppressed.

He rolled over so his back was to you and let out a soft sigh. He had to admit he was tired, but being in the same bed with you and not touching you was almost painful, enough so that he wasn't sure he'd be able to sleep.

"Goodnight, Tyler," you whispered softly, keeping your eyes trained on the wall, even though you desperately wanted to look at him one more time.

"Goodnight, (Y/N/N)." He paused. "Just do me one favor."

"Hmm?"

"Keep your icy ass feet away from me."

You laughed, swinging your leg back to plant your foot against his bare calf. He swore and nearly jumped at the sensation.

"They're like icicles!"

You giggled. "They're not that bad you drama queen."

He rolled over enough to glare at your back. "That's drama king to you."

You shot a matching glare over your shoulder before you both burst out laughing. You swatted his arm affectionately, trying not to marvel at the firm muscles beneath your palm. "Go to sleep."

He smiled as he faced away again. "Goodnight, icicle."

He heard your breathy laugh as you murmured, "Goodnight, drama king."

**********

The exhaustion must have kicked in at some point because you could barely remember falling asleep when you awoke in the middle of the night. It took you several moments to orient yourself, having forgotten where you were.

In those moments before lucidity settled in, you could feel a radiating heat at your back and you instinctively curled into it, pressing against something very firm.

Then you felt it--breath gently blowing against your neck, something heavy draped across your middle, and someone's very large body pressed against you from head to foot.

Tyler. His name slammed into your brain, pushing you firmly into wide-awake territory. You quickly realized it was his body wrapped around yours, his breath caressing your neck, his arm holding you tightly against him.

You laid there, utterly frozen, as you contemplated what to do. His grip on you was surprisingly firm, preventing you from simply rolling out of his grasp, and there wasn't much room on your side of the bed to escape to anyway.

Somewhere in Tyler's subconscious, he must have felt the shift in your body and the urge to ease your tension was one he couldn't ignore even in his dreaming state.

His grip on you tightened even more, pulling you back against his chest. He pressed forward into you and you shifted slightly in an attempt to distance yourself. In doing so, you wiggled your ass right against his semi-hard member, eliciting a soft groan from Tyler's lips.

With absolute horror, you felt him start to harden even more, the urge to melt into the floor growing with each moment. You didn't want him to wake up and be mortified, so you tried to move away from him without waking him.

Your movements stirred him into awareness, the current situation coming into focus as he awoke. You felt the moment Tyler woke up fully, his body going rigid against yours before rolling away from you with shocking speed.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, (Y/N)," he muttered in embarrassment. "I-I didn't mean--shit. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," you murmured, trying to diffuse the situation. "You were sleeping--it happens."

He groaned and rubbed his face wearily. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

His voice was low and pained, the tone making your chest ache. "You didn't. It's alright." You reached out a hand to brush against his arm. "Hey...look at me."

His body remained tense beneath your fingers. "Ty," you urged.

He finally turned to look at you and he found himself surprised at your open expression. You didn't look angry or upset, in fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say you looked intrigued.

"No more apologizing," you ordered when he opened his mouth with a clear apology on his lips. "I didn't mind."

Your eyes widened as you realized what you'd just admitted, a bright pink blush quickly deepening your skin.

Emboldened by your words, Tyler leaned towards you slightly. "Which part? Me holding you? Or my obvious physical attraction to you?"

You exhaled sharply. "Your what?"

Tyler's eyes scanned your face and he was certain he saw a whole lot more than intrigue written there--he'd even say it was desire. "Oh come on princess. You felt my reaction..."

You blanched further. "It's-it's a physiological response--"

"To you," he added firmly. "A physiological response to you."

Your mouth opened and closed in an embarrassing representation of a fish before you finally pushed out one word, "Me?"

Tyler smirked, looking around the room. "You're the only one here, sweetheart."

You looked down at yourself before looking back at him, repeating the motion twice before you sputtered, "You-you. No--you...no way. You can't."

He smiled at your fumbled words. "I can and I do. I've never met anyone who makes me feel the way you do."

"Physically?" you gasped in disbelief.

He chuckled. "Physically and emotionally, actually."

Your draw dropped further. "What?"

Tyler stood up and moved to your side of the bed, kneeling down in front of you. "Let me make this very explicitly clear, (Y/N). Yes, I find you attractive. Yes, I want you. Yes, I think you're incredible. No, I don't just wanna fuck. Yes, I want to be with you."

You stared at him in silence for a long moment. "Am I dreaming?" you whispered.

He shook his head and gently brushed a thumb against your outer thigh. "We're both wide awake, baby."

"Are you sure?"

He chuckled. "That we're awake? Very."

"No--that you want me."

Tyler grabbed both of your hands and squeezed them between his. "I am completely certain I want you in every meaning of the word. I would, however, like to start with getting to know you...biblically."

You let out a breathy laugh. "I would ask if you're drunk, but I already know the answer."

"Sober as a priest, darlin'."

"So you're just insane then?"

He cocked his head to the side. "I've never felt more sane in my life. I've wanted you since the day you walked into my life, (Y/N). Only way I'm walking away now is if you tell me you don't feel the same."

You stared at him, a look of confused wonder on your face. Never did you think Tyler Owens would be saying this to you...but here he was, literally on his knees, telling you everything you've wanted to hear for so long.

"Of course I feel the same," you said softly. "How could I not?"

He smiled as he slowly pulled himself up, but instead of rising to his full height, he began to slowly crawl onto the bed, forcing you to lay down to accommodate him.

He stopped once you were fully trapped beneath him, lips so close you could feel his warm breath. "Stop me if this isn't what you want," he whispered.

You lifted your head to close the gap between you, lips pressing firmly against his. He groaned into the kiss, immediately deepening it.

You slid your tongue along the seam of his lips, silently begging him to let you in. He obliged, tongue meeting yours with fervent passion. He tangled his fingers into your hair with one hand, while the other slipped under your shirt to gently rub at your hips.

You were inclined to allow him to kiss you until you passed out from lack of oxygen, but he finally pulled away just enough to suck down a lungful of air.

"If I'd known kissing you felt like that, I would have done this years ago," he murmured.

You chuckled breathlessly. "I haven't been kissed like that in a long time--perhaps ever, if I'm honest."

"Then allow me to make a promise. I will kiss you like that every day for the rest of your life."

You gasped. "That's...a rather intense commitment, Ty."

"Five years, (Y/N)."

"I'm gonna die in five years?"

Tyler chuckled and shook his head. "God I hope not. I meant, I have wanted to do that for five years...so no, it's not as big of a commitment as you'd think. I'd think of it more as an honor."

You stared at him in silence for a moment. "Who taught you to talk like that?"

He grinned, but you could see a light blush dusting his cheeks even in the dark room. "I, uh--I've read a lot of those books you told me about."

"Books I've read?"

He nodded.

"I had no idea."

"Well I knew how much you liked them and I was curious...so I started reading one and I couldn't stop. They actually gave me some ideas for things I'd like to do with you."

"I'm not quite sure why that's so hot, but it is. So if you could please kiss me again, I'd appreciate it."

Tyler grinned, leaning down to press his lips to yours. You sighed into the kiss and pulled him even closer to you, desperate to feel as much of him as you could.

He felt the same way, right hand sliding farther up your side under your shirt, exposing more of your flesh as he went.

His thumb brushed the underside of your breast and he groaned into the kiss as he realized it meant you'd forgone a bra. He moved his hand to properly cup your breast, kneading the supple flesh before brushing a thumb over your peaked nipple.

You gasped softly and you reached for the hem of his shirt to tug it off. He allowed you to remove it and proceeded to reach for yours. A wave of self-consciousness hit you and you grabbed his wrists to stop him from lifting it further.

"Maybe we keep it on?" you said softly.

He looked confused. "Why?"

You didn't answer right away. You didn't want to admit to the feelings of self-doubt or acknowledge your body image issues, but you also didn't like the idea of being fully exposed to him. Especially now that you could see exactly how well-sculpted he was.

His eyes scanned your face, looking for an answer to his question. You weren't making eye contact with him, but you weren't telling him to stop, which only added to his growing confusion.

"Do you want to stop?"

"No!" you said quickly. "I just--I don't..."

The confusion on his face was almost endearing. He wanted to see you, touch you, kiss you...and he couldn't understand why you didn't want him to.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he whispered.

You shook your head immediately. "It's not you at all, Tyler. It's me."

He frowned. "I don't understand."

You let out an exasperated sigh, realizing you really would have to be straightforward. "I don't really like the way I look without clothes on." Your voice was low, barely a whisper, but he still heard every word.

Realization hit him like an EF5 tornado. "Who made you feel that way?"

The harsh tone of his voice surprised you, so much so that you finally made eye contact with him again. His eyes were dark and there was a hint of simmering anger in them.

When you didn't answer, he asked again. "Who made you feel like you weren't beautiful?"

You exhaled slowly. "Do you want a list?"

His nostrils flared and he balled his hands into fists. "No one has the right to make negative comments on your appearance. No one, including you. I'm sorry anyone ever made you feel like you weren't a fucking prize, but that's their loss. If you don't feel comfortable showing me your body yet, then I won't push you, but I need you to know I want to see every inch of you...so I can worship every inch of you."

Your lips parted in surprise as you let his words sink in. There was no hint of deception in his voice or his gaze, and it gave you a surge of much-needed confidence.

You sat up just enough to pull your shirt up and over your head before letting your back hit the sheets. Your pulse was racing, breathing ragged, and you couldn't quite make yourself look at him.

Tyler was silent as he beheld your exposed torso, gaze sweeping appreciatively over every dip and curve, mentally marking every spot he wanted to spend extra time on.

He finally looked back up at your face, noticing instantly that your eyes were trained on the ceiling. "Baby. Look at me."

The dominance in his voice, while gentle, left no room for argument. You met his adoring gaze and the last dredges of worry left your body, taking the tension along with it.

He watched your body relax and a small smile formed on his lips. He leaned forward so he hovered over you once more and murmured, "You are absolutely exquisite."

With those four words, you melted, becoming a pliable instrument to his will. He kissed you softly before beginning his descent down your jaw, your neck, to your collarbone, and finally to your breasts.

"I think I'll stop here for a while," he mumbled against your soft skin.

You let out a breathy chuckle as you slid your fingers into his hair. He was true to his word, not a single inch of skin left untouched by either his mouth or hands.

The growing need for him was starting to become more prominent, the slick gathering between your thighs almost to an embarrassing level. As much as you were enjoying the attention he paid to your breasts, you needed to feel him elsewhere.

Before you could voice the need, Tyler continued his descent down your stomach, kissing every little mark he found. He reveled in the feeling of softness beneath his hands, wanting nothing more than to touch your body forever.

"Tyler," you whimpered, need evident in your voice.

He chuckled against your skin. "So impatient."

You squirmed slightly, desperate for some form of friction, a need he, himself, was also feeling. He hooked his fingers in the sides of your shorts and you lifted your hips to allow him to remove the last scrap of fabric from your body.

The sound that slipped past Tyler's lips could only be described as a growl. "That tiny bit of fabric was all that was between me and all of this?"

You nodded, unable to speak as he slipped a finger between your folds to collect your slick. He brought the finger to his mouth and sucked it clean, moaning softly at your taste.

"I knew you would be delicious."

He dropped to his knees off the edge of the bed, then grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him. A squeal of surprise escaped you, which brought a smirk to his lips.

"I wanted a better angle." With that, he threw your legs over his shoulders and dove into your pussy.

Your moans immediately drowned out any of the other sounds in the room, and even the ambient noise from outside. Tyler was incredibly skilled with his mouth, even more than you'd always imagined.

His tongue swirled your clit as he slipped one finger into you, gently curling it against the soft, spongey spot that made your toes curl. Your hips jacked off the bed in response, causing him to drape an arm across your abdomen to hold you in place.

"More, Tyler," you begged.

He grinned and added another finger, increasing the pace of the thrusts and his ministrations on your clit. Your hands clawed at the sheets as you neared your peak, desperate pleas to not stop mixed with your moans of pleasure.

Tyler, of course, did not stop. He wanted you to cum as much as you wanted it. He could feel how close you were, your pussy was squeezing his fingers so tightly it was becoming harder to move them. You kept trying to move your hips to grind on his face for even more friction, but he held you in place.

With a final flick of his tongue, you fell over the edge, waves of pleasure filling your senses. Tyler didn't stop until your moans turned to soft whimpers and you squirmed away from him.

He crawled back onto the bed, watching you as you came down from your high. He was certain you'd never looked more beautiful. When he said as much, you blushed deeply and averted your gaze.

"Oh come on, princess. Don't get all shy on me now."

You giggled lightly and looked at him again. He looked so damn good it was nearly offensive. You reached for his boxers with a murmured, "May I?"

Instead of answering, he stood up and removed his boxers quickly. You bit your lip at the sight of his very large member. The man gave off big dick energy, so you really shouldn't have been surprised.

You licked your lips absentmindedly as you looked at him. You pulled yourself up into a sitting position and flicked your gaze to his face. He was surprised by the hunger evident in your expression and he suddenly felt his need for you intensify.

He took a step towards you as if to crawl back on top of you, but you shook your head. "Lie down," you commanded softly.

The look in your eyes had him obeying immediately. As soon as he'd laid down, you climbed onto him, straddling his thigh. Your soft hand wrapped firmly around his cock and you began to stroke him slowly, earning soft sounds of enjoyment from him.

You smirked as you took in his expression, pleasure evident on his face. You lowered yourself, taking him into your mouth with a soft moan of your own. His hand was instantly in your hair, grip tightening as you started moving.

You swirled your tongue around his head before sucking tightly. You relaxed your throat and continued to take more of him into your mouth until he hit the back of your throat. Anything your mouth couldn't take, your hand pleasured.

His moans spurred you on and guided your motions. You picked up on the subtle things that seemed to provide him more pleasure and you focused on those. Your own enjoyment was evident in the moans you made around his cock and the way you occasionally rubbed your pussy against his thigh, desperately seeking some relief.

Tyler could feel his orgasm fast approaching, but he wasn't ready to cum yet. With a strong tug on your hair, he lifted your head off his cock. You whined in annoyance, a small pout on your face when you met his gaze.

"Sorry, baby, but I'd like this to last."

Your expression softened and you shifted your body to straddle his hips. You leaned forward to kiss him deeply. He met your lips hungrily, teeth nipping at your bottom lip before his tongue delved into your mouth.

You gently brushed your pussy against his cock, eliciting needy moans from both of you.

"I don't think I can wait any longer," Tyler murmured.

"Me neither," you admitted. You sat back up, an odd expression he couldn't name on your face.

"You alright, sugar?"

You bit your lip. "Could I...could I ride you?"

A wide grin spread across Tyler's face. "'Course you can."

You weren't accustomed to being on top, but it was something you really wanted to try with him. You gripped his cock and slowly lowered yourself down onto him, gasps and whimpers leaving your lips as you took all of him.

Tyler's grip on your hips tightened, a low groan leaving his throat as he watched his cock disappear inside you. You shook slightly, so he rubbed soothing circles into your hips and whispered, "Just relax, baby. I've got you."

You nodded and took a deep breath, allowing your body time to adjust to his considerable size. You placed your hands against his chest, using them for leverage as you lifted yourself up and dropped back down onto his cock.

The sensation was incredible...and the control was utterly intoxicating. You started to move faster, spurred on by the way his fingers dug into your flesh and the sounds of pleasure escaping his parted lips.

After several minutes, your thighs began to burn and your motions slowed. Tyler noticed your energy waning, so he pulled you down flush against his chest and kissed you deeply. He thrust up into you a couple times before flipping you onto your back.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured as he began to slowly thrust into you.

His movements were slow and calculated, leaving you utterly breathless. Your nails scrapped along his shoulders and back, moans slipping past your lips with each thrust. "Tyler..." you whimpered.

He nipped at your collarbone in response to his name, the sound coming from your lips was easily the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard.

He pulled himself up onto his knees, tugging both of your legs up to rest against his chest. The new position elevated your hips at just the right angle for each thrust to press firmly against your sweet spot.

The chorus of broken moans coming from you mixed with the sounds your mingled bodies made to create the most intoxicating symphony Tyler'd ever heard.

There was not a single thought in your head other than the overwhelming pleasure you were on the receiving end of. You were lost in it--in him. Your nails dug roughly into his biceps as you clung to him with all your strength.

Gasps of his name left you, along with desperate pleas to keep going. Tyler pushed past the pain in his arms as you drew blood, his sole focus on making sure you reached your peak. He watched your face contort in pleasure, chest heaving, eyes closed, moans dripping from your open mouth.

"Look at me," he whispered.

Your eyes fluttered open, taking a moment to focus on his blue-green ones. The moment your eyes met, you fell apart with a fractured scream of his name. The muscles of your core clenched tightly around him, forcing him to a slower pace.

Tyler watched you in awe, utterly enraptured by the sheer magnitude of the moment. Your legs shook as he took them in his hands and gently lowered them back to the bed.

Your hands had fallen from his arms, but you now reached for him. "Ty."

He leaned forward, placing both his palms on the bed beside your head, caging you beneath him once again. His thrusts had slowed considerably, but you knew he needed his own release. You could see it in the tension lining his jaw and the desperation in his eyes.

You nipped his jaw affectionately, earning a low chuckle from him. "I want you to cum inside me," you murmured.

A deep growl rumbled in his chest at your words. His pace immediately picked back up, now chasing his own release. "You feel incredible, baby."

You sighed sweetly, fingers touching his tanned skin and tangling in his hair. "So do you."

His moans mixed with pants of your name, and he dug one hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, clinging to you desperately. "I can't get enough of you. So perfect for me."

You moaned softly at his words, loving the praise coming from him. You could tell he was close as his thrusts became more erratic.

You pressed kisses to his jaw and the column of his throat before whispering, "Cum for me, Tyler. Please, baby, I need it."

Tyler groaned loudly, hips stuttering as he spilled his seed deep inside you. He moaned your name against your lips, thrusts slowing to nothing. He kissed your jaw before collapsing on top of you, heavy pants leaving his mouth.

You kissed the top of his head and rubbed your fingers soothingly over his back. You could feel some of the marks you'd left on his skin, a slight embarrassment sinking into you.

"You were incredible," he murmured against your skin. "So much better than I'd imagined...and I've imagined it a lot."

You giggled lightly at his admission. "I might have imagined it once or twice myself."

He lifted his head to look at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "And? Did I meet your expectations?"

"No," you said honestly, a small smile on your face. You saw his smirk fade slightly as you moved closer. "You exceeded them."

The tension in his face eased to a genuine smile. He pressed his lips against yours in a sweet kiss that still managed to make your toes curl.

Tyler slowly lifted himself off you, softening cock sliding out of you along with your mixed spends. You let out a soft whimper, which earned you a sweet smile and a loving kiss.

"I'm coming right back, princess. Just wanna clean up."

You watched him walk away to the bathroom, leaving you to wonder if you should try and get up too. After all, you needed cleaned up just as badly as he did.

He saved you from having to make that decision when he came back moments later with a warm washcloth. Your expression softened considerably when you realized he'd brought it for you.

"What's that face for?" he asked softly.

"Just appreciating how sweet you are."

He smiled. "I'm gonna pretend you didn't think I was just gonna leave you here with this mess." His tone was light, though slightly chastising.

"I've never had someone take care of me after sex," you admitted, a soft blush gracing your cheeks.

Tyler looked surprised as he slowly began to clean you up. "Clearly you've been sleeping with the wrong men."

You chuckled softly, even as you winced from the over-stimulation between your legs. "Looks like I made the right choice this time."

Tyler made sure you were completely clean and dry before responding. "I think we both did."

Your eyes brightened with emotion and you reached for him in a silent plea. He tossed the rag behind him towards the bathroom before crawling back into bed.

He grabbed you firmly, pulling you into his chest. You curled up against him, head resting against the muscle of his pectoral. You felt him brush his fingers down your arm, the movement affectionate and possessive.

You kissed his chest, a small sigh leaving your lips as you settled in. You felt the exhaustion coming to claim you and you could tell by Tyler's even breathing that it was coming for him too.

As you closed your eyes, your foolish brain began to overthink every moment of the night. You wondered if he would regret his choices in the light of day, or if he would want to actually have a real relationship with you.

Tyler felt the tension in your body and his grip on you tightened. "Turn your brain off, princess."

You inhaled sharply before letting out a soft chuckle. "How'd you know?"

"I know you. I can practically hear your brain overthinking," he teased. "Whatever your anxiety says is wrong. I'm in this for the long haul, okay?"

You exhaled heavily as if releasing all those negative thoughts. "I love you, Tyler," you whispered so softly he had to strain to hear.

His heart skipped a beat and a slow smile spread across his face. He nuzzled into your hair, his grip on your soft body tightening. "I love you too, princess."

The soft words of affection were the last you shared before falling asleep in each other's arms.

**********

The morning light shining in through the windows woke you, a groan of annoyance leaving you as you tried to block out the light.

Tyler's responding grumble sent shivers through your body, making you curl in closer to him. You felt his lips graze your forehead, as he said in a voice heavy with sleep, "Mornin', darlin'."

"Don't wanna," you groused.

Tyler chuckled lightly. "I know baby, but we gotta."

"Five more minutes."

He kissed your forehead again before untangling himself from you. "I'll give you ten. I'm gonna jump in the shower."

You whimpered as his warmth left you, but you quickly rolled over into the spot he'd just vacated. You sighed softly as you curled up, the residual heat from his body warming you.

He chuckled again and thought to himself that he could get used to this--waking up beside you. You looked even more beautiful in the morning light and he found himself excited to tell everyone he came across that you were his. He kissed you one last time before going to shower.

You heard the shower turn on and you debated the merits of joining him. You didn't want to get out of the warm bed, but you also knew you had to. A nice hot shower with the man of your dreams did sound rather enticing.

You groaned as you pulled yourself out of bed on slightly unstable legs. You slowly made your way to the bathroom, slipping in quietly. You could see Tyler's outline behind the glass, his back to you as he reached for his body wash.

You crossed the short distance, opening the shower door and stepping inside. "Mind if I join you?"

Tyler turned to you with a grin. "I'd love it, actually."

You reached a hand out for the body wash and washcloth he held. "Let me."

He smiled and handed them to you, but when you stepped closer, you saw the marks on his biceps--crescent moon shaped scabs. "Oh my god," you gasped. "Did I do that?"

Tyler's eyes followed your line of sight. "It's not a big deal, princess. They're badges of honor, as all marks from you are."

You bit your lip, clearly unconvinced.

"Baby." His voice was stern enough you immediately turned your attention to his face. "I'm okay. I promise."

You relaxed, the clear calm in his expression easing your worry. "Okay."

He grabbed your hips and tugged you towards him, a little smile on his face. "Besides, you've got a nice bite mark on that pretty collarbone of yours...and some finger shaped bruises on these sexy hips."

You looked down to where his fingers grazed your skin and realized he was right. A light blush crept up to your cheeks. "I have to admit...I quite like the idea of you marking me."

Tyler grinned wolfishly. "Now you know how I feel."

You giggled softly, allowing him to press his body more firmly against you, lips seeking yours for a gentle kiss.

When he attempted to deepen the kiss, you gently pushed him back. "We need to actually bathe, remember? The team's expecting us for breakfast soon."

He groaned. "They can wait."

"Tyler!" you yelped when he pulled you back in, pressing a warm kiss to your lips.

You could feel his cock begin to harden against your abdomen, his hands roaming your body like he wanted to memorize it. You sighed softly as he gently messaged your skin, your need for him growing with each passing moment.

"Come on, princess. Let me make you feel good," he begged against your ear, fingers dangerously close to your core.

"Please," you whimpered.

Tyler grinned, nipping at your earlobe, then your pulse point, focusing there as his fingers dipped into your dripping pussy. A soft moan of pleasure left your lips, head tilting back to lean against the cool tiles.

"I'm thinking we might just skip breakfast all together," Tyler murmured.

You laughed breathily, grabbing his face to plant another kiss to his swollen lips. "I think I'm okay with that."

Tyler spent the next 45 minutes making you moan his name as he gave you overwhelming pleasure. He also used up all the hot water in the entire motel, which you discovered when the two of you finally made it out of your room to meet the rest of the team.

"Dude, I had to take a freezing cold shower," Boone was grumbling as you and Tyler walked downstairs.

"Me too!" Dani chimed in. "Someone must have used all the hot water."

A sheepish smile graced your face as you overheard their conversation. Tyler let out a quiet chuckle, hand squeezing yours gently.

Lily made eye contact with you, noting your expression, your's and Tyler's wet hair, and the hold he still had on your hand. A knowing grin spread across her face. "I think I know exactly who used all the hot water."

[bratscave]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ — MY LITTLE PRINCESS !

includes. dilf! logan x 23! shy? reader, very lightly implied daddy issues, sexual content! (car pussy eating lol)

You’ve seen Logan here before, countless times, always in that same corner, nursing his drink in solitude. His age should turn you off, it really should but somehow that just got you more intrested, you had been stern on doing something about said-intrest but your fear of talking and interacting with men, held you back.

Tonight, tonight you were going to do it. You were sure of it. With your heart pounding in your chest, you slide off the barstool, your legs feeling a little shaky as you make your way across the room. Each step feels like it takes you all your power, and by the time you reach his table, you’re sure he can hear your heart beating out of your chest.

You pause for a moment, hesitating, before you finally force yourself to speak, "is the seat taken?" your voice was quiet, shaky even, you silently cursed yourself — you had wanted yourself to sound confident, god damn it.

He turns around with a gaze that was so intense, you were sure he was about to fuck you off to go somewhere else, yet he quietly gestured to the seat next to him. You slide into the seat opposite him, your knees brushing logans under the table.

"You're a bit young to be in a place like this," he murmurs, his voice deep and gravelly, carrying the weight of all the years he’s lived. There’s a teasing edge to his tone, but also a hint of concern, like he’s trying to figure out what a girl like you is doing in a place like this, with a man like him.

You feel a blush creeping up your neck, but you force yourself to hold his gaze. "Maybe I like being around… older men." Well not the older men around you, him though, very much so. "I'm not that young." you add on, it was true - since when were people in their mid twenties considered, young?

A scoff slips past his lips at your response, though it did pique his intrest. His thumb circled around the glass of his whiskey, you were sure that was at least the fourth one he had, "Not that young, huh? Then how old are you, princess?"

You practically feel yourself grow hotter at the nickname, on it's own 'princess' sounds so endearing, so loving — but with his rough tone, it got this different edge to it. "23," you mumble, obediently at his question.

Logan repeats your age, let's it slip from his tongue losely, makes it hang around the dimly light bar and between you.

"I wonder what your parents would think, princess. If only they knew where their little girl was right now, and who she was with."

You'd actually think he was somewhat concearned if it wasn't for the almost mocking tone in his voice, not like he was making fun of you moreover like he just found this situation and how you were behaving amusing.

The blush intensifies at his comment, you hated how you reacted to him, how your body did too; you didn't want to come of as to shy or inexperienced. that was not the case, well somewhat. Your absent father, certaintly wouldn't care - your mother, maybe but who'd tell her? "I'm not a little girl," you're grown god damn it.

His smirk only grew as you got increasingly red. It was cute.

"Oh, really? You look like a little girl to me, princess. All shy and flustered just from sitting at the same table as me. Can't even look me in my eyes."

Logan leaned a little closer to you, his tone almost advising, "You look like you need someone to take care of you, princess. Someone older. More experienced. Do your little boytoys not take care of you right, hm?"

It takes all your will power to not run off into the sunset, burry yourself a hole and think about what he said for the rest of your life. You manage to answer quietly, "you sound like you want to be that 'someone'"

"smart girl," he snickered, satisfied with your reply.

"I'll admit, I've been watching you for a while. You come here all the time and drink all by yourself. All alone. Always sitting at the same spot, watching others."

You can feel yourself get wetter at just his words, he had been observing you? The you, who looked at him countless times, sure he was not looking back or cared at that either.

Sooner then your mother would be proud of, you were in his car. Well- you and him were in his backseat. The car smelled old, looked old too but you didn't have time to make details out as he kept your legs spread for him, rough big hands patting the skin every now and then, to quietly tell you how good you were.

His tongue was way to busy to talk, licking and sucking with a precision that was applaudible. You couldn’t believe this was happening. Just hours ago, you were too shy to even speak to him, and now here you were, half-naked in the backseat of his car, your body squirming around.

He wasn’t gentle — Logan was thorough, relentless, like he had something to prove. And maybe he did, maybe he wanted to show you exactly what you’d been missing, what it was like to be with a man who knew exactly what he was doing. His stubble scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the rawness of the experience, making it feel more real.

He was so broad, taking up most of the space in that damn backseat and he was hungry. starved, or at least he ate you out like he was.

Logan would make sure that, for the next few days, you’d feel him in every corner of your body. You would ache, throb in all the right places — all because of him.

[lazysoulwriter]

warm kisses, cold mountains. - lando norris.

using this request to say that i'm writing for lando now! ♡ (sorry if I take too long bubs)

----

The cold air bites at your cheeks as you adjust the goggles resting on your forehead, your snowboard tucked under your arm. The Austrian Alps stretch endlessly behind you, a breathtaking backdrop to yet another Red Bull-sponsored training session. Snowboarding has been your life for as long as you can remember, and now, being one of the top athletes in the sport, you wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Well… except maybe for the man currently watching you with a grin from the sidelines.

Lando Norris, the McLaren driver who somehow became the love of your life, sits on a snow-covered bench, bundled up in layers, his nose and cheeks slightly pink from the cold. He’s been here all morning, watching you practice, cheering you on between his sips of hot chocolate.

When you reach him, shaking the fresh powder off your jacket, he immediately opens his arms for you. “Come here,” he mumbles, his voice muffled by the scarf wrapped around his neck.

You don’t hesitate. Settling onto his lap, you feel the warmth of his body seep through the thick layers of your clothes. He tightens his arms around you, nuzzling his face against your shoulder.

“You look amazing out there,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jaw. “I swear, I could watch you do this all day.”

You chuckle, running a gloved hand through his curls. “That’s literally what you’ve been doing.”

“Yeah, well…” He grins, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “Still not enough.”

You sigh, letting your forehead rest against his. The contrast between his warm breath and the crisp mountain air makes you shiver, but it has nothing to do with the cold.

“You should come with me on the next run,” you tease, tilting your head slightly. “I can teach you a thing or two.”

Lando lets out a laugh, shaking his head. “Absolutely not. I like my bones intact, thank you very much.”

You roll your eyes. “Coward.”

“Smart,” he corrects, his lips curving into a smirk before he kisses you—slow, sweet, and lingering, the kind that makes you forget about the cold entirely.

When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against yours again, his thumb tracing gentle circles on your waist.

“I don’t get how you’re not freezing,” he mutters, pulling you even closer.

“Years of training in the snow,” you say with a small smile. “And maybe the fact that you’re a human heater helps.”

Lando hums, clearly content. “I like being useful.”

“You are.” You brush your lips against his cheek. “In more ways than one.”

He grins at that, squeezing your sides playfully. “Good. Because I plan on being your personal cheerleader forever.”

You shake your head with a laugh before standing up, grabbing your snowboard. “Alright, since you won’t come with me, at least wait here. I have one more run, and then we can go back to the cabin.”

Lando groans dramatically. “Fine. But only if there’s hot chocolate involved.”

You wink. “And extra marshmallows.”

His face lights up, and before you can turn away, he grabs your wrist, pulling you in for another kiss—this one a little deeper, a little more lingering.

“Now go,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second. “I’ll be here. Always.”

With one last smile, you strap your board on and push off, knowing that, no matter how many slopes you conquer, nothing will ever compare to the warmth of Lando’s love.

And later, when the two of you are back at the cabin, tangled up under thick blankets, his hands tracing lazy patterns on your skin as the fireplace crackles softly in the background—you realize that some kinds of warmth have nothing to do with the temperature outside.

----

[gotta-winwin]

OT13 Reaction -- to you being bullied in the past/highschool

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

tw: this one holds a lot of mentions of verbal bullying and cyberbullying - it's something very close to home for me and this fic will be for anyone who has experienced the same thing. remember that you are strong and the harsh words don't define you! i love you and stay safe <33

he can feel his blood boiling the moment you comment on your past experiences with bullies. seungcheol prides himself to be a level-headed type of guy, but the thought of you getting hurt - even in the past - strikes a chord deep inside of him. he's thinking about buying a plane ticket to your hometown just to find those fuckers and bury them six feet under. however, he's mature enough to know that violence never solves anything, opting to show you even more love than before (if that's even possible) to remind you that you are worth everything in the world.

jeonghan's mind is already whirring overtime the moment he finds out about your past. using his scary, evil, mastermind brain for good this time, he can't help but envision decking the people who've hurt you. doesn't mind listening to you as you rant, knowing that you need a silent supporter by your side. will never tell you about how he sees red just thinking about your so-called "friends" who made you feel so horrible about yourself.

joshua can feel his heart crack with each name you tell him you've been called. takes the time to reassure you that you are none of those horrible things, that you're kind and beautiful and so so so smart. traces his finger across every scar and imperfection you've been bullied over, whispering how much he loves you. doesn't mind giving your bullies the nastiest side-eye the next time he sees them.

although he's doing his best to be present as you tell him about your past, jun is internally screaming at himself because you. are. crying. it's like he malfunctions every time it happens, hating how sad and scared you look. despite his panic, he's awfully calm when he comforts you, explaining to you that no, you are not weak because of this. in fact, you're much much stronger.

soonyoung's somehow found himself perched on top of a chair, his body steaming with anger, holding too much rage to sit still. you can tell he's struggling to hold back the foulest curse words, knowing that he should at least let you finish your rant. the moment you're done however, he's cursing them, their mother, their partner, anyone he can get his metaphorical hands on. it's okay baby. he'd tell you once he's calmed down. they're probably failing in life. but look at you! you're successful and beautiful and you're dating me!

wonwoo's asking you questions in a way that makes you fear for what he's about to do. what's their address? social media? social security number? you have to physically sit him down and remind him that the bullying happened years ago in highschool and that there was no point in trying to get revenge now. he's visibly deflated by the news, but decides to just dote on you even more to prove to you that their awful words were wrong. i'm no good with words, but i'll show you how fucking stupid they were to hurt you.

jihoon doesn't really know what to say when you tell him. he only thanks you for feeling brave enough to share such a painful part of you with him, feeling happy you trust him enough to do so. neither one of you revisits the topic: until one day, you see a suspicious amount of rageful revenge lyrics and comfort lyrics in seventeen's new releases. i guess we can credit the making of Hug to that instance.

minghao's glad he meditated last night because what you just told him would have definitely set him off without it. he doesn't hesitate to hold you, asking you if you need anything from him. i'm so proud of you for surviving all that, my love. they were obviously blind and didn't see your worth. and i'm sorry you thought they were your friends. he makes it clear that he's here for you, whenever you need to talk about it again.

seokmin more than upset when you're finished telling him everything- he's confused. he doesn't understand why anyone would want to hurt you, let alone say all those nasty things and pretend to be your friend. he apologizes for crying, trying to laugh it off by saying idk why i'm crying so hard, it didn't even happen to me but i'm the one sobbing like a baby. promises you that he's never leaving your side and you don't have to ever worry about him turning on you like your friends did in highschool.

all mingyu can think about as he listens is that he could have made it all better if he had just been there. he tells you while gently wiping away your tears that he would've traded places with you in an instant. i wish we'd met when we were younger, love. i would have fought them all back. but most of all, he wishes he was there to protect the younger you, knowing a child didn't deserve all that.

although you're doing a great job already, seungkwan can't help but join in on dissing your bullies and so-called "friends." he nods along enthusiastically every time you throw an insult, preferring always to laugh about it instead of cry. he's hyping you up, agreeing with everything you say as you recount your highschool days. yeah, no she sounds like a bitch. i bet he couldn't even read a chapter book. bro probably stank, you were safer without him. she's sounding like one of those insane kdrama rich ladies - and not the hot ones.

vernon's quietly listening, storing away every single piece of information for the next time you guys return to your hometown. he's already preparing his plethora of insults and backhanded digs, ready to show them a taste of their own medicine. he quietly tells you that he can relate - school had never been kind to him either - and he somehow spins all your shared trauma into something beautiful. we were meant to be, he says, cause you healed me, and now i can heal you. his words make you smile through the tears - and you fucking love him for that.

chan's at a loss for words once you're finished telling him everything. he's overwhelmed by the sheer amount of harsh words and sickening moments, knowing that if he felt this bad just hearing about it, he couldn't imagine how you felt going through it all. you're much braver than i would have been, is all he says after a pause. i love you. chan might be a man of few words, but he knows just what to say.

[starcurtain]

A Look at Ratio and Aventurine... and Ratio/Aventurine

I was morally obligated to use this picture.

Anyway, I got an ask about my understanding of Ratio and Aventurine's relationship both in canon and as a ship that I have been holding on to for a while now because... phew, there's like... a lot to talk about there... But I felt I should at least give it a try, so here is my attempt to comment on the intersection of two of Star Rail's most complicated personalities. Long post is longgggg; you have been warned.

First, Aventurine's canon relationship to Ratio:

In the interest of not hitting tumblr's image limit, let's just throw out some of the information we have in one go:

It's pretty complimentary. (Yet somehow...)

The implication of the infamous "Keeping Up with Star Rail" video is that Ratio understands Aventurine better than anyone else, and Aventurine knows this. At the very least, putting all shipping aside, Ratio is the person who can explain Aventurine's behaviors best. He's the person Aventurine chooses do so. This suggests significantly more knowledge of each other's lives than the game first led us to believe.

Other people (read as: my GOAT Owlbert) perceive respect from Aventurine to Ratio, and although I read them as a bit sarcastic, the 2.1 mission logs not only repeatedly confirm that Aventurine views Ratio as smart and reliable, but that Ratio is reliable "as always," again indicating a longer and closer history of collaboration than we get to actively see in game. The devs were working hard to tell us "Penacony isn't Ratiorine's first rodeo," which is interesting--given Topaz's voiceline recommending the Trailblazer avoid working with Aventurine whenever possible, we're led to believe through 2.0 and 2.1 that not many people will willingly work with Aventurine more than once, let alone many times.

While going through psychological scrutiny from the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come his Harmony-infused self, the "Future" Aventurine suggests that Ratio and Aventurine are quite similar, and that Aventurine puts a surprising amount of trust in Ratio, to be willing to hinge such a dangerous plan on something as untested as Ratio's ability to act. At the very least, Aventurine's own psyche is pondering on Ratio and whether or not their connection has any emotional meaning.

But despite all this evidence suggesting Ratio and Aventurine spend significantly more time with each other than we get to see in game, Aventurine's own thoughts cast strong doubt on whether he and Ratio are actually close.

Aventurine's "About Dr. Ratio" voice line suggests that Aventurine believes Ratio does not particularly like him. He seems to think that Ratio would prefer to stay away from IPC operations where possible, and it's "unfortunate" for Ratio to be stuck with Aventurine as a conversation partner. He's tolerated, rather than enjoyed. His overall impression seems to be that Ratio mostly views them as distant coworkers.

When the "Future" Aventurine suggests Ratio did not betray Aventurine willingly, actual Aventurine immediately pushes back:

(Personally I'm on the fence about whether this was real doubt or just a ploy to continue sussing out Sunday; see my other post about this scene for some more thoughts.)

But if we take this statement to be played straight, it implies that Aventurine doesn't fully believe Ratio will side with him, even (maybe especially) in dire circumstances. If this statement is real doubt, then despite considering Ratio the person who best understands him, despite building an entire life or death gamble around Ratio's loyalty... Aventurine still doesn't think Ratio even likes him.

Aventurine's not stupid or blind, so theoretically he should be able to read the situation better than that. But actually, there's plenty of evidence both in the game and outside it to suggest that Aventurine is not the most accurate judge of his own relationships to others and is a down-right terrible judge of his own worth as a person.

"Future" Aventurine suggests that one of Aventurine's deep inner flaws--the truths that he rejects about himself--is a massive inferiority complex. This is backed up well by the mission text, where Aventurine's thoughts about himself spiral into self-harm, and the scene in the maze, where "Future" Aventurine taunts our Aventurine with the unforgettable fact that his entire life was only worth pennies:

There's also pretty consistent self-deprecation, with both "Future" and real Aventurine noting several times that he's a pathetic mess of a person that other people don't trust or like.

The overall impression 2.0-2.1 left me with is that Aventurine is perfectly capable of respecting and caring for others, but virtually incapable of accepting other people genuinely respecting and caring for him.

Part of this seems to stem from the directly-stated sense that he's a failure whose only worth is in transactional exchanges, using and being used by others (there's so many layers to this--internalized racism even), but I also suspect that much of his inability to accept genuine connection from others is defensive behavior.

Aventurine's true self, Kakavasha, is deeply hidden away, like the ghost of the child that manifests from his Harmony delusion in the Dreamscape. Although Aventurine clings to that person, claiming that he has "never changed," he actively coats over his beliefs, his kindness, and his authenticity with the mask of a "cavalier gambler," with glitz and glamor and showy distractions. No one gets to see Kakavasha. No one gets to know him, because being buried deep in the dirt is the only way to remain untouchable, and fiercely keeping one's distance is the only safe bet. (For both Kakavasha and any fools who would doom themselves by daring to care for him.)

So: Canon is telling us that Ratio is one of, if not the, closest people in the world to Aventurine. But canon is also telling us that that still means absolutely nothing at all, because Aventurine won't let himself be close to anyone living.

Aventurine's senses of self-worth, trust, attachment, and safety have been warped so badly by ongoing and untreated trauma and mental health issues that, at least until the end of 2.1, I just don't think he was capable of even accepting genuine friendship from Ratio, let alone anything more.

(Interesting side note here: Ratio is actually one of the people Aventurine calls "my friend" the least. He only says it directly to Ratio a single time in all of their lines of dialogue across 2.0 and 2.1, and even then, does so only when right outside Sunday's door, while almost certainly being spied upon by the Family. Anyone who knows how often "my friend" is peppered into Aventurine's dialogue otherwise should know that the absence of the phrase is actually pretty telling. It almost feels like canon Aventurine's not even sure he can call Ratio his friend, at least to Ratio's face.)

Which makes Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine quite sad and ironic:

From start to finish, Ratio canonically esteems Aventurine more highly than almost any other character in the game. I'm not even talking about shipping when I say that there is no character Ratio is closer to in the entire game.

At present, Ratio has only four voice lines about other characters, and of those four, Aventurine's is the only one that isn't someone from the Genius Society. The only one. Ratio's voice lines are also notably, uh, not very complimentary. Herta is "talented but not helpful to others" and "sees no one as her equal" (read as: she's self-absorbed). Screwllum is a "monarch, rather than a genius" (with the vague implications of being a tyrant), and Ruan Mei is overly ambitious and "fooling everyone."

Meanwhile, Aventurine is "our man" (who is "our" Ratio? who?) whose success "can't all be chalked up to luck," implying that part of Aventurine's success must come from skill. Ratio notes that Aventurine questions his own ability... but as far as Ratio's evaluation goes, he seems to doubt that Aventurine will ever experience a downfall. For someone who thinks 99% of the people he meets are mediocre failures scrambling around in the filth of existence, to be recognized as skilled and unlikely to fail is quite obviously glowing praise.

Then, of course, there are numerous moments that echo Aventurine's hints, implying that Ratio spends significantly more time with Aventurine than we see on-screen, that he knows Aventurine extremely well, and, although he tries (vainly) to pretend he isn't, he's clearly quite concerned with what Aventurine thinks of him.

Especially this last one. "No wonder that gambler likes you so much" is pretty intentional on the devs' part, confirming that Ratio and Aventurine are having off-screen conversations we players are not privy to, which obviously would indicate a closer relationship than the in-game cutscenes could cover.

Then, Trailblazer has the option to flat out ask Ratio to "rate" Aventurine. (Star Rail ship bait is not even subtle.)

At first, this line might read as all over the place:

"The bosses say we're partners but I wouldn't say that" -> Read as: Ratio wants people to know how their relationship is classified but doesn't want to admit to being actually invested.

"I see myself as the teacher to everyone I meet" -> Read as: Ratio at least pretends that he doesn't view anyone as his equal; everyone is either above him--geniuses--or below him--students.

"Aventurine is not that bad of a student" -> High praise; even Ratio can't pretend Aventurine's untalented.

"Actually, Aventurine's probably in metaphysical danger" -> Read as: Ratio is aware of the "void" Aventurine is experiencing and his mental struggles.

The ultimate takeaway of Ratio's "rating" actually says more about Ratio than Aventurine. When it comes down to it, Ratio's choice to answer this question for the Trailblazer instead of dismiss it tells us that Ratio has spent time quantifying and trying to define his relationship with Aventurine, is willing to at least discuss that relationship with other people (when we have no evidence he ever discusses any other personal/non-academic matters with anyone), and that Ratio pays attention to Aventurine's mental states.

Canon Ratio is not beating the allegations, I'm afraid.

But actually, I think the biggest tell about Ratio's canon relationship to Aventurine is that Ratio's behavior completely changes the moment Aventurine appears in the game.

In every single one of Ratio's other appearances, two facts are hammered home again and again:

First, Ratio hates interacting with fools and "noisy" people. He wears his plaster bust so that he doesn't even have to see them. Canonically, we're informed by both March 7th and Argenti that Ratio brought and was wearing his headpiece in Penacony. Curiously though...

The players never see it throughout 2.X--probably because 90% of Ratio's scenes are with Aventurine, and Ratio is never shown wearing his bust on screen with Aventurine--even in their very first meeting in the Final Victor lightcone. Aventurine clearly knows of the bust, but despite Ratio verbally going on and on about how Aventurine is the most "flashy" and "devoid of logic" person Ratio knows... the devs deliberately send their message: Ratio has chosen not to cut himself off from Aventurine.

Aventurine can be more "clamorous" than a screaming peacock, but Ratio will still not put up walls against him. This isn't accidental. The devs had every opportunity in the world to go the opposite route and make jokes about Ratio refusing to take the bust off in Aventurine's obnoxious presence; instead they decided that Ratio apparently has a glaring, Aventurine-shaped exception to his "I don't want to perceive you fools or be perceived by you" life rule.

This "willing to tolerate shenanigans only if Aventurine is involved" behavior continues basically throughout all of Penacony's plot. In 2.3 for example, if you turn around and talk to Ratio again on the Radiant Feldspar, he flat out says:

But there's no actual explanation for why he's there in the first place. He mentions he was assigned to watch over "the IPC's ambassadors," which theoretically should apply to Jade and Topaz, yet we never see him interacting with them in any capacity. He's never even shown in the same room as Jade or Topaz, and he's not shown doing any other form of business for the IPC on the Feldspar either. Theoretically, he could have been on the Feldspar to meet regarding the Divergent Universe... except Screwllum wasn't there yet, and Ratio doesn't mention a single word about the Divergent Universe to the Trailblazer.

The only person Ratio talks about in his dialogue on the Feldspar is Aventurine, and the only non-Trailblazer he talks to in 2.3 at all is also Aventurine, replying to him and only him in the group chat.

He looked like he might give it a shot to try to befriend Boothill and Argenti at the end of 2.3... but immediately changes his mind and leaves without saying a word to them.

It's not really a stretch to suggest that the only reasonable excuse for Ratio to attend the party on the Feldspar was if he was there for Aventurine, a behavior that he himself notes is out of character. ("A waste of time" he says, as he stands there anyway.)

But, second and even more importantly: Ratio's single most defining character trait is that he believes people need to pick themselves up. The entire point of his debut appearance in the game was to present his philosophy that if the powerful or privileged intervene to continually "save" the mediocre, ordinary people will never learn for themselves or get the chance to grow. It is in times of desperation, he says, that fools exceed their limits and reach greatness.

This is why, in 1.6, he insisted on Asta and the Trailblazer being the ones to solve the attacks happening on the space station, without relying on Screwllum or the other geniuses. Although Ratio did actively intervene a little (using the phase flame to save the researchers from death), he did so only from behind the scenes, where his actual help would not be noticed by those affected and where it had no impact on their decision-making or their struggles to solve the mystery.

He let Asta and the Trailblazer panic. He let them flounder. He even deliberately misled them at points, claiming that Duke Inferno must have kidnapped the researchers (when it was actually Ratio himself who re-routed them).

Ultimately, Ratio let Asta and the Trailblazer grow from their experiences.

This is also why he lets the Trailblazer go blazing in to fight Ruan Mei's faux emanator of the propagation, despite knowing that Trailblazer was not actually strong enough to win. Ratio watched and was ready to intervene... but in the end he did not, because it was the Trailblazer's fight to lose.

Ratio's most defining character trait is that he believes standing back and observing is the true kindness, rather than inserting oneself and denying people their autonomy or opportunities to grow.

Buttttt... then there's Aventurine, and suddenly the story is completely different.

Suddenly, Ratio isn't an observer but becomes essential to the plan. He's even walking around making big claims about being the manager of the task, flexing all of his C+ acting ability to actively carry out their mutual ploy.

In 2.3, he claims he was just there to watch, and his Penacony sticker asserts he's only "a supporting character"--yet we have never seen Ratio take a more active role in the entire game. Unlike with the Trailblazer in 1.6, he's not primarily watching events unfold from shadowy corners. He's in Penacony as Aventurine's active partner in crime.

And, even more telling--he later jeopardizes their entire mission just to ask if Aventurine needs help.

What? Huh? The character who is famous for the voice line "You look distressed. Is something troubling you? If so, you can figure it out for yourself" is suddenly offering his assistance entirely unprompted?

The guy whose motto might as well be:

Is suddenly out here throwing his own core philosophy out the window to solve Penacony's mystery for Aventurine and save him from himself in Aventurine's hour of greatest need?

A lot of people get hung up on the second half of Ratio's letter, the part about staying alive, which of course is very sweet. But I think the second half causes people to forget that the first part of Ratio's letter is, quite literally, the answer to Penacony's mystery.

Ratio gave Aventurine the answer.

This is like if your professor just gave you and you alone the score key to the final exam and then turned around to insist he "doesn't play favorites."

Of course, Aventurine is brilliant and didn't need Ratio's answer about dormancy, which makes the fact that Ratio went out of the way to give it to him even more odd. Ratio despises unnecessary repetition. If he wasn't dead worried, he would never have given Aventurine an answer that Aventurine had the power to find on his own.

And, as far as canon tells us, Ratio has never done this for anyone else.

The difference is night and day. It's literally the Gordon Ramsay meme, with everyone else in the entire game being the "fucking donkeys" to Aventurine's "Oh dear. Gorgeous."

So: Even if we entirely put aside shipping, if we look strictly at what we're given in canon:

Ratio treats Aventurine with more respect than he treats most other characters in the game.

He involves himself in Aventurine's struggles in a way that he flat out refuses to do for anyone else.

He compromises his own beliefs purely out of concern for Aventurine.

So, at least as far as we've been shown in canon, it is accurate to state that Aventurine is the closest character to Ratio--and unlike Aventurine (king of self-gaslighting), Ratio isn't even good at acting like he doesn't care.

Frankly, the whole thing is a little sad. Ratio's behavior is so blatantly out of character that a smart person like Aventurine should easily be able to determine it is genuine, but Aventurine's personal hang-ups and ongoing trauma make it difficult for him to even see that authenticity, let alone put faith in it. Even in canon, Ratio is mostly unable to help himself when it comes to Aventurine, which is especially unfortunate given how badly skewed Aventurine's perception of himself and others is by the start of Penacony's story.

PHEW! I finally made it through canon content!

Now there's just... everything else... 🫠

Well, to be honest, I don't think I could ever manage to put all my thoughts about this ship into one post. Probably not even fifty posts.

So rather than trying to say everything there is to say about Ratiorine, what I want to focus on is how fantastically these two characters just fit together. Like puzzle pieces that need to be mirror opposites in order to link, these two characters parallel each other while also perfectly filling in each other's voids. It's some of the best character pair writing I've seen in a long time (though I'm still sort of convinced it was at least 50% sheer luck on Hoyo's part), and my perspective on their ship can really be tied to my underlying perception of Ratio and Aventurine's characters as remarkably similar individuals:

It's obvious that Aventurine is not a healthy or well-adjusted adult man, but like... neither is Ratio.

Both of these characters are "not quite right" marginalized people who, at least in my interpretation, have essentially given up on even faking normality and are now just vaguely play acting their way through being functioning members of a universe that is entirely unequipped to accept them for who they are. In a world full of cyborg cowboys and people with wings growing from their heads, the game still manages to somehow convince us that Aventurine and Ratio are odd ones out.

Kakavasha can't even exist in the dystopian capitalist hellscape of the IPC's machinations. "Aventurine" isn't even a real person, just a never-ending performance, a slick, devil-may-care persona without a single ounce of substance.

Ratio, meanwhile, is a world of one, rejected from the only place he thought he could find validation and acceptance but unable to lower himself to fit in anywhere else.

Aventurine is so bad at making genuine connections that he turns everyday conversations into gambles because he doesn't believe people will care enough to keep talking to him without tangible incentive.

Ratio's insistence on treating everyone as students, not as equals, also means he has an excuse to never emotionally engage with anyone he meets. (This is not at all a textbook method of intentional avoidance to prevent any chance of social rejection. Not at all.)

At the end of the day, Aventurine and Ratio both come across as desperately lonely, and so caught up in their own situations that they really don't have the ability to climb out of that hole on their own.

Preventing them from even being able to maintain any form of relationship is also the fact that neither one of them can even find justification. Neither one of them has a reasonable answer to the question "Why am I alive?" anymore, because Aventurine's reason died on Sigonia and Ratio's reason died with an IPC invitation instead of a Genius Society letter. Though their differing perspectives have led them on opposite paths pursuing their own answers to that ultimate question of "Why should I keep living?" (Aventurine was headed toward giving up before the end of Penacony, while Ratio has invented an immeasurable, impossible goal to distract himself from feeling purposeless), both of them are pretty much miserably unfulfilled in their current lives.

They're also both violently allergic to emotional vulnerability and to having any of their flaws or true desires actually be perceived. Both of them put up insanely high walls. Aventurine pushes boundaries with everyone he meets to provoke their hatred in advance, before they can come to disdain him for his "real" flaws. He acts out harmful racist stereotypes to use others' preconceptions for advantage, manipulating every situation he's in--incidentally affirming the stereotypes against his people by doing so.

Ratio puts a physical wall of plaster between himself and others, but the plaster bust actually doesn't have anything on the mental and emotional gymnastics he's engaged in to justify his isolation from the world, doing everything in his power to convince himself that he's isolated by choice, that it's perfectly logical for Veritas Ratio to have nowhere to truly belong, no one to truly belong with. He's so mundane after all. Of course the geniuses don't want him, that's just commonsense. But everyone else is so... different, so foolish, so illogical... It just wouldn't be reasonable of him to try to become one of them either, to be their friend instead of their distant educator. (You know, if you never try to integrate with others, then they can't reject you. Ratio has learned his lesson.)

Somehow, Aventurine and Ratio are two of the most competent and successful people in Star Rail's entire universe and simultaneously also two of the most misfit, reject, dysfunctional messes in the game. Like... Blade has a better support network than Aventurine and Ratio combined. The 7000-pound murderous mech with a disabled, genetically-modified war veteran who never got to live a normal human life hiding inside it is more capable of making friends than Aventurine and Dr. Ratio.

Which is why I love that the devs decided to make their canon backstory: "Some absolute treasures in the IPC and the Intelligentsia Guild had the galaxy-brained idea of pairing Ratio and Aventurine as strategic partners." The game's writing really said: "These two characters are so socially stunted, they have to be assigned a relationship like it's homework."

They may not have it all figured out yet, but the fans see the design: Now that Ratio and Aventurine have each other, they're not alone anymore. I have never seen two characters better fit the "Is anyone going to match my freak?" meme only for the actual answer to be "Yes."

Ratio is "plays chess with himself" levels of loner weird? No problem--Aventurine is "Wanna take bets on who's going to die today?" weirder. Ratio wears a plaster bust to ward off idiots? Aventurine transforms into a monster on command, which is pretty much guaranteed to achieve the same effect.

Ratio wasn't chosen by Nous? That's fine, Aventurine's one job as a "chosen one" was to save his people and now they're all dead. Nobody can keep up with Ratio in conversation? Watch a single comment from Aventurine turn him into a fumbling mess on live television.

Ratio's inability to relate to the experiences and development of any peers his own age have left him extremely isolated and with a permanently scarred sense of self-worth? Wow, I wonder if Aventurine knows exactly what that feels like.

They just... fit.

And, changing focus a little here at the end: While I personally think that recovery from trauma requires internal motivation and self-kindness foremost, I also think that Ratio and Aventurine's relationship should be considered from the perspective of how they help to fill each other's gaps.

Unlike any connection at the Genius Society who will always evoke unpleasant memories of Nous's rejection, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel intellectually inferior. Aventurine has nothing but good things to say about Ratio's intelligence, and it's even apparent that Ratio felt comfortable enough to at least mention his Genius Society woes to Aventurine, something he explicitly does not do with anyone else.

Even when it comes to social interactions, Aventurine isn't going to make Ratio feel inadequate, because honestly? Aventurine's almost as bad at them as Ratio. Aventurine is much better at faking it socially, but when it actually counts? When he's trying to be real with others? A solid 70% of the people who meet Aventurine still end up wanting to strangle him. The guy tried to apologize for threatening to detonate the Trailblazer like a bomb by buying them a model train...

Then there's this:

Aventurine is the only character explicitly called Ratio's equal in game, and more than just treating him respectfully as an equal, Aventurine also exhibits one extreme appeal that no one else in game has ever shown to Ratio: Aventurine makes Ratio feel needed. For Aventurine, Ratio is not a forgettable after-thought as he is to Herta and most of the other geniuses. He's not just "some weird guy who scolds me about school" like he is to the Trailblazer. Ratio's intellect and skill were integral to Aventurine's plan from step one to the very end. Ratio has a place in Aventurine's plots. For a character who directly assesses worth by how beneficial a person can be to others, the fact that Aventurine can make Ratio feel wanted and valued probably produced some of the strongest personal fulfillment Ratio has had in years.

On the opposite side, Ratio's in a unique position. Out of every relevant character in Aventurine's story, Ratio is the only one who has nothing to lose by choosing Kakavasha over "Aventurine." Ratio doesn't profit off Aventurine or take any expensive gifts from him, like the Trailblazer does. He doesn't need Aventurine's luck for anything at all. He'd be able to work for the IPC even if Aventurine wasn't in it. Ratio certainly doesn't want the glitz and glamour of a shallow gambling hustler persona. His work doesn't require Aventurine's continued involvement like Topaz's and Jade's does. He'd probably prefer not to know any Stonehearts at all, thank you for asking.

Outside of deliberate-acting insults about Sigonians for Sunday's sake, we're not told that Ratio has any connections to--and therefore has no preconceived biases against--Sigonians. Being a person who values self-determination and a refusal to live in mediocrity above all else, he would have nothing but esteem for how far Aventurine has managed to come despite the harsh circumstances of his life. Ratio probably wouldn't even think Aventurine's belief in Gaiathra is that strange; one of Ratio's doctorates is actually in theology.

Unlike literally everyone else in the universe who needs "Aventurine," we have every indication that Ratio's respect and admiration will only grow when he finally gets to meet "Kakavasha."

Loneliness, rejection, betrayal, a lack of understanding from others--all of these can leave wounds that only genuine, deep bonds with others can heal.

On death's doorway, in the darkest shadow, when Aventurine had to make the choice between passing on to be with the family that loved him and choosing to return to a reality without them... Ratio's letter was there, telling Aventurine the exact thing he needed to hear to choose life: Someone is waiting for you to come home.

If the resounding rejection of Star Rail's Nihility is belief in humanity's power to make meaning in our own lives through our connections to others, then the ultimate message of Ratio and Aventurine's arc in Penacony is that no one needs to be alone. The world is not as empty as you fear.

And that is a message that Ratio and Aventurine can learn best through each other.

(I just... love them so much...)

[socialobligation]

Salutations. 🤓🤚 (this is kinda rambly sorry)

How we feeling about Todoroki not understanding social cues and completely messing shit up w/ shawty. (Personally I think it's a hilarious idea.) "Ommgg get outtt" "...okay?" Dips the fuck out. I think it could be a funny smau thingy or a drabble or WHATEVER it'll be good cus ur hella funny!! (ALSO I SAW UR KIRI× ALT-ISH READER AND I KNOW THAT WOULD ALSO EAT WITH LIKE AN ALT READER X TOKOYAMI OR SHOJI literally my favorite characters and I always thought that alt reader was very similar to dadzawa reader person so aizawa v. Readers bf would be funny too) okay I'm stopping nooowwww much love

get out | s. todoroki

what starts as a miscommunication lesson slowly unravels into something much softer, where teasing turns into quiet confessions, and maybe—just maybe—you're both a little more obvious than you thought.

it’s been months now. the two of you have fallen into that rare kind of friendship that feels effortless—the kind built from shared late-night study sessions, stupid inside jokes, and a surprising amount of mutual patience. shoto isn’t someone you expected to become your closest friend; he’s too formal, too literal, too composed. and yet somehow, he became your person. steady. dependable. stubbornly honest.

he's smart, meticulous, and considerate in ways that sneak up on you—the way he memorizes your coffee order, the way he lends you his umbrella without comment when he knows you forgot yours, the way he notices when you're tired and offers to carry your books without asking. but even after all this time, he still stumbles over basic social cues like they’re potholes on an otherwise flawless street.

and honestly? it's a little endearing. a little dangerous, too, when you’re harboring a crush you can’t quite figure out how to hide.

case in point: today.

when you shove his shoulder lightly, laughing as you say, "oh my god, get out," he reacts without hesitation.

he stands up.

"okay," he says, already halfway to the door with the solemnity of someone obeying a direct command.

you blink at him, stunned. "wait—no, i didn't mean—"

he halts mid-step, looking at you with genuine concern. "you told me to get out."

"it’s a figure of speech, dude," you groan, dragging a hand down your face. "like… 'no way!' or 'shut up!' it doesn't actually mean leave."

he blinks, processing this new data. "i see."

"do you?"

"not entirely."

you laugh, shaking your head as you pat the cushion beside you. "sit back down, you're fine."

he hesitates, then retraces his steps with careful precision, lowering himself stiffly into the chair across from you, posture perfect like he’s bracing for another misunderstanding.

you snort into your drink. "you're so formal. it's like hanging out with a very polite cat."

he tilts his head slightly, considering. "is that meant to be a compliment?"

"sure," you say, grinning.

he looks genuinely pleased, though the slight furrow between his brows suggests he's filed the statement away for later analysis.

you pull your legs up onto the couch, scrolling lazily through your phone while he watches you with quiet attentiveness, like you might do something critical at any moment. it's not weird. or at least, it’s not weird to you anymore. shoto pays attention to people he cares about.

he just doesn’t always know how to show it.

"you can chill, you know," you say, glancing up.

"i am chill."

"you're sitting like you're about to recite the national anthem."

he straightens further. "good posture is important."

"relax, mr. posture," you tease, grabbing the nearest pillow and tossing it at him.

it smacks him in the face with a soft thud. he doesn’t even blink.

he catches it carefully, setting it on his lap like it’s a fragile object.

"thank you," he says, genuinely.

you burst out laughing.

"okay," you say, setting your drink down, "lesson one. when someone says 'get out' while laughing, it usually means 'i can't believe you just said that, that's hilarious.' not 'please leave.'"

he nods slowly, committing it to memory with grave seriousness.

"lesson two," you continue, leaning forward a little, "if i call you 'stupid' or 'dummy' while smiling, it doesn't mean you're actually stupid. it usually means i think you're being… cute."

he processes this with a blink. "so verbal insults can sometimes signal affection."

"exactly."

he nods again, more confidently.

"lesson three," you say, gesturing to the pillow he's still holding, "if someone throws a pillow at you, it's usually affectionate. like, it means they like you."

he stares at the pillow. then at you. back at the pillow.

"oh," he says simply, like a puzzle piece clicking into place.

you clear your throat, suddenly needing to look very intently at your shoes.

"not—not always like, like-like," you add hastily, stumbling a little. "sometimes it's just friendly. but… sometimes it’s… y’know."

he watches you for a long moment, his gaze steady, thoughtful.

"is it… like that?" he asks.

you glance up, heart hammering.

"maybe," you say, soft, unable to summon anything cooler or smarter.

he tilts his head again, as if weighing the information.

"good," he says finally, in that same plain, almost reverent voice.

you blink. "good?"

"i like you too," he says, with all the certainty of a fact he's double-checked.

he tosses the pillow back at you—lighter this time, more casual—and there's a flicker of a real smile tugging at his mouth.

"reciprocal," he adds, because of course he would.

you catch the pillow against your chest, laughing despite the way your heart is doing somersaults.

"lesson four," you say, regaining your composure, "if someone says something obviously ridiculous, like 'i could totally fight a bear,' you're supposed to play along. not start listing reasons why it's inadvisable."

he looks genuinely troubled by this. "but fighting a bear would be strategically unsound—"

"shoto."

he stops. reconsiders.

"you could absolutely fight a bear," he says, voice deadpan.

you cackle, tossing the pillow at him again. he catches it without effort, a glint of humor in his eyes now, subtle but unmistakable.

"you're getting there," you say, sinking back into the couch with a grin.

"thank you," he replies, a little looser, a little lighter.

he's still shoto—precise, literal, impossibly sincere.

and now, maybe, a little yours too.

[highway-143]

obsession- nishimura riki

genre: fluff, suggestive, maybe angst (?), university au, s2f2e2l (idk man) answer to this ask

pairing: soccer player!riki x fem!reader

taglist: @urlocalmultigroupfan @minkilicious @vrusha01 @shyoko @planetmarlowe (open taglist)

word count: 4.5k

now playing: mastermind- taylor swift

a.n- ty anonie ehehe ilysm ur so sweet

tw: fluffy fluff, shirtless riki (HAHAHA) profanity, a lil kissing but idk

(mostly proofread)

all scenarios are fake and are not meant to harm any idol in the story

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you liked riki.

that was an understatement, actually.

you had the biggest crush on him it was possible to have.

and he was completely oblivious. or at least you thought he was.

you've had a crush on him since 11th grade, when he moved into your school. he was smart, funny, and the most beautiful boy you had ever seen. best soccer player too.

too bad you were too scared to talk to him.

so you thought it was the miracle of miracles that you ended up at the same university. he had gotten a full-ride scholarship to play on their soccer team, the marlins, and you somehow got in with your nervously-written application.

in all fairness, it was probably looking like you followed him. but you didn't, it was just fate.

and fate was what found you here, outside the sports field, staring at the coach's assistant ad.

that was your in.

so you texted the number, fingers crossed and heart hopeful.

you: hey, is this coach wilkins? i'm y/n l/n and i'd like to apply for the assistant job you had posted.

and then two hours later, you get a response.

wilkins: you've come to the right place! meet me in my office this afternoon around 3 and we can talk some more!

you giddily walk to her office all the way across campus from the dorms, iced coffee in hand and a sense of 'finally' coursing through your veins.

"hey! y/n, right?" she says as you open her door. her features are very tight and controlled, a slick back ponytail giving her a more youthful look even though she had to be in her late thirties. "come on in!"

you smile and sit across from her at her desk. she points to your drink.

"americano?"

you nod.

"those are my favorite!"

you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. "yeah, they're delicious! im actually so addicted to coffee"

"girl, me too." she leans back in her chair, propping her sneaker-clad feet on the desk. "so," she rubs her hands together. "most of the job is just helping out the team, getting waters and moving equipment, you know the drill."

she picks up a soccer ball from where it sat on her desk. "and of course there would be compensation. are you up for the job?"

you grin, liking her more and more. "of course! thank you so much coach!"

"call me sarah. first practice is tomorrow at 5 in the morning. don't be late."

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"come on cupcakes, you can run faster!"

needless to say, coach wilkins is a little harsher with her team than she is with you. you watch as the group of 25 boys pant on the field, legs pumping as they run laps from goal to goal. the air is frigid and the sky is dark with the hint of light coming from the east.

you didn't regret being up to see it, even if it meant less sleep than normal.

you turn to sarah. "so how long do they last."

"as long as i tell them they need to." she winks and you laugh. "but it's usually about fifty laps before one of them needs a break."

"damn, that's impressive."

"not when the opposing teams can do sixty. that's what we focus on in morning practice. endurance."

you watch as one of the boys stumbles.

"hey crane! pick up the pace!"

he nods and pushes ahead.

you watch in awe.

"how do you just... get them to listen to you like that?"

she laughs. "i really don't know. but i do know that they know that i care about them and their futures. that might be part of it."

all of the boys push through, the first collapse at lap 57.

"great job, marlins! we're almost there!" she shouts across the field.

you scan through the sea of faces, trying to find the one all of this was for.

riki.

he was in the very back, arms raised above his head and sweat on his forehead. his tank top looked just as wet despite the chilly breeze.

his hair was a tousled mess, wet and on the verge of dripping into his eyes. it was a good look on him.

you pick up the bag of waters and start handing them out, the group of out of breath boys thanking you as soon as their hands touched the cold plastic.

your finger brushes riki's when he reaches for one, and your eyes meet his even in the swarm of sweaty shirts and shouting voices.

he grins, a sweet one that you had come to love, and says "thanks"

you smile, nod, and keep distributing the water.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

"wait up!"

you turn around, hearing the voice you knew all too well, and drop the bag of soccer balls in your hands. riki comes to a stop in front of you and smiles.

"you're y/n, right? didn't we go to high school together?"

he sticks out a hand, and you shake it. "yeah, we did. i think we might have been in the same-"

"world economics class, yeah!" he interrupts, but you laugh anyway.

he grabs the bag of balls and walks with you to the storage closet across the field. "so, what did you come here for?"

"i... don't really know. i haven't decided on a major yet, i'm just trying everything."

"that's real. i didn't know you were into soccer though."

you look up at him, giving your carefully thought out excuse.

"yeah, my cousin plays so i know my way around and i saw the ad so... why not make a little extra money, you know?"

he tosses the bag into the shed and looks back at you. he looks tragically beautiful in the sunrise lighting, hair pushed out of his glinting eyes and body shimmering with sweat.

"cool. anyways, i'll see you at practice tonight?"

"yup!"

and you watch him jog off the field and back onto campus, an excitement you hadn't felt since 11th grade filling your body.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it wasn't long before you were hooked on riki.

it all started on the third day of practice. sarah had you bring the team dinner, just sandwiches from the deli down the street.

riki, instead of sitting with his friends, walked over to the bleachers to talk to you.

you were sitting with sarah, but she gave you a part knowing, part amused, and part curious look, and gets up to berate jack wilson for throwing a tomato at grant james.

"hey," he says, sitting next to you and unwrapping his turkey sandwich. "so i was wondering... do you like parties?"

"depends on the party. why?" you ask, leg bouncing and heart racing.

"there's like... this thing? it's on sunday, and it's like, kind of a party, but more like a banquet for all the sports teams."

"yo, that's cool!" you say, trying to sound oblivious.

"yeah, it is. but there's this thing where all the starters for the teams bring.... like, a date? so i was wondering if you'd maybe wanna go? like i know we don't really know each other but it's better than asking my sister and you're the only other girl i know at this school."

you fight a giggle that was brewing in your chest, along with the massive fist-pump and cheer that would inevitably happen later.

"yeah, sounds fun! mind if i give you my number and you can text me the details?"

"sure," he hands you his phone and cracks his knuckles while you tap on it. "thank you again, you're a lifesaver."

you grin and nod, happier than you could ever have been.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

riki texted you saturday night.

riki: hey y/n, its riki. the banquet thing is gonna be at 7, so i'll come to your dorm and pick you up around 6:40 so we can walk there.

riki: sound good?

riki: its formal dress btw

you jump up and down in your room, and your roomate stares at you like you've lost your mind.

you: okay, that's perfect! see you tmrw

riki: 👍

you throw yourself onto your bed and kick your legs into the mattress. your roomate watches you with curiosity.

"are you okay? what happened?"

"just... something i've been waiting years for."

she nods and goes back to reading her book, shaking her head at you.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you were on edge all day sunday.

the team had the day off for practice, so you didn't see riki at all.

nope, that's a lie.

you did see him at walmart with his little sister when you were shopping, but you ducked into the next aisle before he noticed you standing by the ice cream.

you didn't want to be awkward around him.

in retrospect, you probably would've been fine if you said hi and started a conversation, but your nerves and the family size bag of goldfish in your cart got the better of you.

you put a lot of work into your appearance that night.

the only times riki had seen you, you were wearing workout shorts or sweats and a ratty hoodie that was comfy but definetly well-loved.

but this time, it was different.

you were in a black silk dress with a low cut and a long slit from ankle to mid thigh. the straps were thin, holding the fabric up just enough so you could show a little cleavage.

a few silver bracelets adorned your wrists, a dainty necklace accentuating your collarbones, and your hair fell in perfect curls around your face.

you pulled on a pair of black heels, making yourself taller.

good, riki was fucking giant.

and when you met him outside your building, purse in hand, you're pretty sure you saw his jaw hit the floor.

he stared at you, and you did a little twirl, blushing when he blatantly looked you up and down.

"holy shit, you look stunning."

you could say the same about him, his black suit crisp over his white shirt that had a few of the buttons undone and a sliver of chest showing that you hadn't seen since senior prom.

"thank you," you say, still standing three feet away.

"we... we should get going."

you follow him through the campus, winding around the many buildings filled with students enjoying their day off.

"you look... really handsome in a suit." you say, half giggling, half embarrassed.

he laughs, a deep sound that has your legs shaking, and smirks at you.

"i haven't worn it in a while, i'm surprised it still fits."

you smile. "is it the same one from prom?"

"yeah, but i'm fairly certian i've grown since then."

"yeah, you definetly gained more muscle."

he grins, hoping you wouldn't see how happy he was that you noticed.

truth be told, riki found you really cute. your personality made him weak in the knees, and your kindness had him wanting to be around you more than he thought he'd want to be.

he was surprised that he'd never met you before.

you walk past a group of little kids playing at a park down the road. one of them, a little girl, was shouting at a boy at the top of the kiddie zipline.

"dont get hurt!" you hear her yell up to him.

you pause, and riki stumbles when he realizes you weren't walking next to him.

"okay, i promise!" he calls down.

she watches in fear as he jumps off the ledge, swinging down to where she waited at the bottom.

"you're so brave!" she said, giving him a hug.

riki recognized the look on the boy's face, it was the same one he had not even two minutes ago.

you coo at the scene.

"aren't they cute? remember being a little kid and being able to show affection like that? god, i miss those days."

you keep walking, and riki follows. "yeah, it was great."

"did you see the way he looked after?" you ask, a sparkle in your eyes when you meet riki's gaze.

"yeah, lovestruck."

you and riki laugh, your heart filled with love and happiness.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

the banquet was nicer than you thought it would be. there were thousands of people, all dressed in formal attire and milling around the room like they owned it.

riki quickly found some of his friends, and introduced you to them.

heeseung, the point gaurd for the basketball team, shook your hand and gave riki a bro hug.

jake, one of his closest friends and defender on the soccer team, gave you an easy smile, and pointed out his date, ashley, who was talking animatedly with a group of girls.

"i don't think she cares about me." he tries to laugh it off, but you see the hurt in his eyes.

riki claps him on the shoulder. "bro, she's not worth it then, you're better than that."

"yeah man," says heeseung, handing him a glass of soda from a waiter. "you're way too good to be chasing any girl that doesn't give a shit about you."

jake chuckles and takes a swig of (what you assumed was) coca cola.

"come on, y/n," heeseung turns to you. "you'd go for a guy like jake, right?"

you stutter, unsure of what to say.

"i mean, yeah! he's handsome and funny, what more could a girl ask for?"

heeseung shakes his head, laughing at riki's face.

"dude, you look like somebody just smacked your mother." says jake.

you turn to find riki composing himself, wiping the jealousy off his face and replacing it with an eye roll.

"okay buddy, time to get you off the caffeine."

jake shakes his head defiantly and takes another sip of his drink. "if you do, there are gonna be two extra balls rolling around on that soccer field."

everyone bursts into laughter, jake's smirk proving his shift in emotions.

the panel of coaches gathers everyone's attention, announcing that dinner would be served soon, and that people should start taking seats.

you, riki, heeseung, and jake all sit together, ashley somewhere across the room with the other girls.

"so riki, are you ready for the first game?" asks heeseung.

"ehh, mostly. kinda nervous but i know i'm gonna play well."

"uh, you definitely are," you say, raising an eyebrow at him. "you're literally the best forward on the team, you're gonna win the game for us."

he smiles at you. "thanks, i hope you're right."

"she's right bro, you're insanely good at soccer." says heeseung, picking at the food on his plate. "like it's scary."

riki laughs, taking a bite of steak.

jake tells you a story about his older brother and a bowl of mac and cheese for the next ten minutes, and you stand up to use the bathroom when he finishes.

jay, one of the players on the football team takes your spot, looking at riki.

"where the fuck did you find her?"

riki laughs, trying his best to not look like a dork in front of one of the most well known kid in the school.

"she's the coach's assistant for our team. i had to ask somebody last minute and she was right there." he lies. "i don't really care about her, she's kind of annoying."

jay smirks. "great, mind if i take a shot at her?"

riki's jaw clenches, furious that jay was treating you like an object to be acquired, but he has a reputation he needs to build.

"nah bro, she's all yours."

jay slides out of your seat, walking back to his table.

heeseung and jake stare at riki like he had gone insane.

"um, what the fuck just happened?"

riki shrugs his shoulders. "i have an impression to make. plus, she would never go for a guy like him. too cocky."

"okay dude, you could do that without insulting her."

riki frowns, eating his asparagus. "okay. but it's not like she's here, she doesn't have to know. and i didn't mean it."

"tell that to the girl that just ran out of the room."

riki's eyes go wide, and he swivels his head to look around, not seeing you anywhere.

"oh fuck," he looks at heeseung. "which way did she go?"

heeseung points to an entrance, and riki immediately stands from his seat.

but his path is blocked by jay.

"just asked her out, and man, you've got a weird one. she started crying when i said you told me i could have her."

riki curses under his breath.

"what was that?" asks jay, raising his eyebrow.

riki fumbles. "uh... nothing, i just... nothing."

"where are you going?"

"uh... bathroom."

riki runs toward the restroom, opening and climbing out the window, racing across the field and sprinting to your dorm in his suit.

good thing he ran for a living.

but it still wasn't enough. by the time he found your building, the doors were just closing behind you.

he stops just in front of the entrance, putting his fist on the glass and panting heavily.

"fuck. ugh."

he pulls out his phone, texting you.

riki: where'd you go?

you: sorry riki, i had an emergency. tell the guys i'm sorry i had to leave early.

riki: oh riki: do you want me to bring anything?

you: no, thanks though.

riki: ok, see you tomorrow morning

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you thought you'd be fine.

you thought you could just drown yourself with ice cream and tears and end up being happier.

but you were wrong.

practice the next morning was hell.

you ignored riki, tried not to acknowledge him when he stood right behind you, tried to distance yourself.

and he just thought you needed some time.

so he didn't try to talk to you. just played harder than ever during their scrimmage, channeling his anger towards jay.

but mostly his anger towards himself.

he couldn't stop beating himself up about it, internally kicking his nuts for being so fucking stupid.

and you just cried.

you felt like you wasted your time, like he was leading you on, like your heart had broken.

because it had.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

it was thursday night. you hadn't talked to riki for almost two weeks, and you were starting to get over it.

emphasis on the starting to.

you were putting away all the equipment, wheeling the goals away in preperation for the football game that night and collecting balls that had been forgotten near the bleachers.

and then you realize you aren't alone.

riki is kicking a ball around the field, dribbling it between his feet.

and he's not wearing a shirt.

great. whoop dee diddly doo.

you turn around, not wanting to deal with him, but he sees you before you can hide.

"y/n!" he runs over to you, but you pretend not to hear him.

maybe if you stay very silent....

nope.

"hey." he taps you on the shoulder and you spin around.

he stumbles backwards from the glare you're giving him, but keeps talking anyway.

"are you okay? i feel like you're avoiding me. what's wrong?"

he was trying to be careful, but that just made it worse. how dare he act like nothing happened. like he didn't do anything?

"whats wrong?! i'll tell you what's fucking wrong!" you're practically yelling to cover up the tears in your eyes. "it's the fact that you think i'm annoying! the fact that you brought me to that damn banquet and then fucking traded me like a piece of meat."

riki's eyes show his sadness now, his regret.

"and the fact that you called me 'stunning' and talked with me and acted like you liked me and then just..." your voice cracks and you clear your throat. "just acted like i didn't matter."

he tries to speak, but you don't let him.

"and you wanna know something, nishimura? i fucking liked you. i had for a while. but now i'm not so sure."

you walk away, leaving riki alone and at a loss for words on the field.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

you don't talk to riki after that.

and he feels like he lost something important.

it's like how you feel a phantom earbud after listening to music for too long.

or how people who lost limbs sense pain in the appendage they don't have.

he had become so used to your bubbly personality, the way you could smile at anything and see the best in any situation during practice.

but you were gone, and he kept thinking he could just send you a text, fuck, even call you.

but he couldn't.

some people in his situation would be too distraught to keep up on schoolwork and sports. but not riki. his anger at the situation only fueled him during practice.

and when the first game of the season came, he was fucking ready.

coach wilkins was talking in the pre-game huddle.

"okay cupcakes, you've practiced hard and done every damn drill in the book. i know you can win this game today."

the guys nod, but riki is solemn among the nerves.

"ready?" everyone cheers. "go marlins!" she shouts.

the team breaks and runs to the field, riki at the center and facing his equal the opposing team.

you watched from the stands, a speck in the sea of blue, yellow, and silver.

you told yourself you wouldn't go, that you wouldn't think about riki.

but your willpower sucks, so you left your dorm in a marlins tee shirt, shorts, and sunglasses resting on your head even though it was dark and cloudy.

you stared as riki fought the opposing team for the ball, the stands erupting in boos, cheers, and screamed insults when the ref called a foul on him for tripping another player.

the goalie caught the shot, thankfully.

you watched the rest of the game in absolute horror, waiting for someone to finally score a point.

and then, in the last minute of stoppage time-

riki scored.

you were jostled around in the stands, the echo of cheers sounding through the stadium and out into the rest of the world as jake sprinted to riki and pulled him into a huge hug.

the rest of his team crowded around him, slapping him on the back and congratulating him.

the announcer's voice rings through the stadium. "aaaaand riki nishimura scores the final, and winning, point! marlins win the first game and will move up in the championships!"

the cheers are louder now, and you watch as somebody walks up to riki with a mic. his face is projected onto the screen, an elated smile making him look absolutely adorable.

the person with him, a reporter you think, speaks into the mic before pointing it at him. "mr. nishimura, you just won the first game! how does it feel?"

he laughs when jake shakes his shoulder, giving him a dorky grin.

"it feels great, sir!"

"anybody you'd like to thank?"

riki's smile softens, and he starts talking again. his eyes stare into the camera, but it feels like he's looking directly at you.

"yeah, firstly, coach wilkins of course! she was the one who got me here. and then there's somebody else."

the crowd whispers, the noise quieted when riki continues.

"i made a mistake, i hurt somebody that i cared for. and i hope she can forgive me for it. i dedicate my win today to her."

you have to stop the gasp that threatens to rip out of your throat. your heart is beating at a million miles per hour and you feel like all eyes are on you even though nobody could possibly know.

"well... i hope you and the young lady can kiss and make up." the man winks into the camera, making the crowd laugh.

you wait for everyone to leave the stadium until all that's left is you and riki, standing on the field and looking up to where you sat, illuminated by the industrial lights.

"y/n." he calls.

you start walking down to the field, stopping when you get to the wall seperating it from the bleachers.

"i'm so, so sorry for hurting you."

you stand there, just watching him while he walked closer to you.

"i thought that i would look cool in front of jay if i acted like i didn't care, if i let him 'have the girl.' but believe me, i was furious that he was treating you like that, but i thought i wouldn't fit in if i didn't act like them."

he's standing right in front of you now, the barrier the only thing between you.

"but i realized i was wrong. that night, at the banquet, bring around you felt like.... like being in another world. a perfect one. and i want to try again with you, but only if you'll give me a second chance. i know i might not deserve one, but it's up to you."

you watch him carefully, his face a mixture of sadness, guilt, and worry.

"riki, i...." you pause, wiping a tear from your eye. your voice feels like it's about to give out any second, so you whisper.

"i'll give you one."

riki doesn't think he heard you right.

"you're for real?"

you laugh. "for real."

he jumps over the short wall, leaving his ball behind and pulling you into a big hug.

"can i kiss you?" his words are the quietest you've ever heard as his lips come close to your ear.

you dont respond with words, but with actions.

and when thunder rolled through the sky after a flash of lightning, that's where the rain found you and riki.

lips pressed together, arms thrown around each other, and the rest of his team on the other side of the field recording the whole thing.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

a.n- gang im crying shit.... anyways if you liked this fic, please comment/like/reblog and lmk if you have any ideas for another fic!

masterlist you might also like: kissed- n.rk

[that-smallinjured-bowylamb]

how do you think Riddle, Lilia and Azul would deal with having a wife who is dedicated, sweet, loving and a bit scatterbrained sometimes… but they’re also scary protective, mama bear instincts. Someone hurt her man and she’s gonna end your whole career. . (If they ever have kid together, some fae or human or mer person tries kidnapping their kid, they sneer at the wife and the boys, and wife comes flying in with murderous energy, and scares the shit out of the kidnappers (scared the husbands too). and wife goes over to their kid and hugs them while the kidnappers flee, kid hugs mom, while crying “mama” happily)?

A/n: SRRY FOR THE LATE REPLY I WAS TLAKING WITH SOME OF MY FRIENDS AND COMMENTING ON SOME POST !!! BUT ANYWAYS IVE BEEN DAYDREAMING OF THIS FOR DAYS ON END AND IM SO HAPPY SOMEONE MENTIONED IT !!! THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING AGAIN @nesting-dreams !!!

💋🪽Wifey material, but can still kick ass💋🪽

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Lilia Vanrouge [💋🎀], Azul Ashengrotto

Warning ⚠️: slight cussy, Reader could be fem but I'm using "you", reader kicks ass, I'm bad at describing fights helpp, reader taking a slipper and chucks it at a mer (Azul's part), reader does a suplex on somebody (Riddle's part), Reader went full-out on brawling (Lilia's part), OOC bc future, you have a child (scary), and ofc, my Grammer is so indescribably amazing.

Summary: You are a dedicated, sweet, a little bit of a scatterbrained wife. You've sworn to be with him, always and forever, taking responsibility for bearing a child as well, you were such a sweetheart, despite being a little forgetful, he still loves you very much. Oh, and your child as well, "Hehe, silly momma!" [Insert name].

But... what happens if your man/kid gets hurt/kidnapped? Oh, suddenly, those perpetrators are in a boxing ring with you.

Riddle Rosehearts

You and Riddle were a happy married couple, sure you get into quarrels but you've managed to work it out somehow, despite for your scatterbrained-self, you were dedicated and sweet. Slightly protective of him, he didn't really know about that part, really. Especially when you stare into a woman's soul for flirting with him, he didn't take notice at all. So, when he turns around, your there, all sweet and flowery with that cute tendency to forget something or another. He's blushy around you, just like the day he caught feelings for you. And, your child [insert name] really loves you! You're the best momma! So what happens if...

Your man gets hit:

•Riddle was surprised by the sudden punch this guy made. He stood up, wobbling from the sheer impact, pointed his wand (or whatever he could use as a Harry Potter stick)and was ready to say the magic words (Miska, muska! Mickey Mouse!), "Off with your!-" another sudden move. It was you.

•Man's just watched his wife, throwing herself to that man, round-house kicking him, with a straight face. Then suplexing that guy with raw strength.

•He's not sure if he's the wife or nah.

•So, in the end. He has to be the one that stops you from beating the guy to the dirt and turning the guy into a DIY plant (Aye, at least it counts as a breathing organism that you surely took out to harvest).

•He gifted you, [your favorite chocolate in a box and your favorite flowers in a bouquet], [the clothes you've been eyeing out for months in your favorite color], [the food you wanted to try out again bc it was so good], [your favorite limited edition shirt], and lastly the dinner he paid for you.

•...Not before calling the cops on this guy's ass.

When your kid almost got kidnapped:

Listen, you're kid is intelligent, but got SOME of your genetics (Rosehearts blood is strong, damn), the kid was left-handed (<-at least how I picture it, you can imagine smth else, though), smart, and almost mature (<- that is, until you arrive at home and the kid did a 180° switching back to a playful kid), and was almost sweet to every stranger (but gives nasty side-eyes at suitors that tries to flirt w/ you whenever you both go shopping), so imagine to your surprise you see your child being DRAGGED by the arm bc of SOMEBODY (And Riddle is a witness before he could do sht cuz your faster):

Lilia Vanrouge [Hanafubukki PLEASE NOTICE ME 🙏🙏🙏]

•What the fuck. Why does he ALWAYS deliver LATE? And why do you turn into Sonic the Hedgehog whenever something happens?? This, has gotta be from the time you were at NRC weren't you? (Or nah, and it was smth else completely)

•Nvm that. Now he's wondering where you've even learned these things.

• "Mommy!!" Cried [insert name], running straight at you, and you, of course, hugged your child back.

•Man, Riddle loves a good wife that knows how to kick ass. And maybe, he could break the cycle with you.

You and Lilia had a very interesting history together (just imagine with me, okay?) And he could never ask for anything else, when he gets nightmares of the war, you somehow know this, always wake up and stay beside him as long as needed until both of you fall asleep. Always there when he needed help but never spoke aloud about it, and always tending to his needs while he tends to others and yours. You, were his great balance in life, though he never showed the signs he was hurting, maybe it dulled overtime, but that didn't mean it didn't hurt. So, you were there, you've helped and that was enough for him. And the two of you had a child, [insert name]. The child took their mischief, playfulness, and maturity from their father. While they've taken your dedication and sweetness from you, of course. But the thing is, you and [insert name] were both forgetful of things. But, don't worry, the three of you can be one, happy, but clumsy of a family. So, when the time some random fuck-ass fae comes to hit/kidnap your man/kid? Nah, I'll win.

When your man gets hit:

•The fae had the audacity to flirt with you, now had enough audacity to hit THE general of Briar Valley? HECKS NAWH. The fact is, either the fae didn't realize it was Lilia or was a drunk. [<-but even so, no one can deal with Vanrouge even if they aren't sober]

•As soon as he was about to retort, you came into his vision...

•And round-house kicking the fae with raw strength, even going as far as to tackle him down, stomp on his crotch, and molly-wap the guy towards the air.

•So, let's do a 2nd marriage but this time he's the bride and you're the groom.

•Hmmmm... That strong ass gorilla-like grip you had there... he's thinking he'll be put into his place if he ever dare to cross you.

•Which, will never happen, of course. (Fortunately.)

•Welp! He's doing the chores this time! Please don't look so stern my dear! You'd get wrinkles if you do! Here, a kiss might help you! *Ignoring the guy who is in a current state of physical and psychological pain.*

What if your kid almost gets kidnapped by a fae?:

Now, I'm not saying your kid might be dumb, but although getting genes from Lilia and all. The kid still has some of your genetic, otherwise, that ain't your kid. So, imagine looking away for 1 millisecond, only to see your kid following a man with candies in his pocket, Lilia had already halted the fae, but that didn't stop you from bolting over.

•When Lilia saw you running over like a mad bull, he knew he had to step aside.

•That fae almost met their creator.

•The fact that your child was encouraging and cheering you on was funny to Lilia. Look at his child, aren't they so cute? Aww! And look!- *You bitch-slapping the fae on the ground.* A strong wife he has! Hah! All of you must be jealous he pulled a baddie. (And totally not trembling in fear)

•So after that, you all went back to being that wholesome family that went out for a very wholesome outing together.

Azul Ashengrotto

To start off, Azul had become a successful shady- business man, you became his wife, then the two of you had a child. Which, uncle Floyd and Jade loved to play with and prank Azul. Oh, but this time? Your genes got HALF of the child and HALF of Azul's. And I'm talking abt appearance. So they kinda looked like you, but in mer version. Not sure if they had your eyes or Azul's eyes bit no matter what, your child has the charm of that of a merfolk from the deep-sea. So what will you do, if your man/kid gets hit/kidnapped?

Your man gets hit:

•In no fucking way did that mer just TAINTED your beautiful husband with that hand.

•So when Azul regains composure and sees you holding a slipper, "Honey... What in the fucking sevens are yoU DOING!?-" *Cue to the slipper at max velocity like it's in a speeding dial to contacting the great sevens up above, then gets CHUCKED at the mer in the face, the air vibrating within vicinity.*

•.... babe, what are you exactly? What if our child has that same strength as you- *Gets interrupted by you hugging him.* "Aww, Zuzu, are you okay? You're not hurt anywhere are you?" ... Yes he's fine, just a little bit shaken... [<-Literally]

•So fast forward to him spoiling you in a way someone gets threatened at gunpoint. It's like your the mafia boss instead of him.

•Yeah, his clients are NOT going to mess with Azul's husband. (Did I say husband? Yes. So is he the wife now? Also yes.)

What if your kid gets kidnapped?:

Your child isn't dumb, nor smart. But your child still has underdeveloped strength, so in comes Azul with his two big-ass blueberry popsicle giants. But before they could do anything, a terrifying aura comes rushing in and Azul froze recognizing it was you, as the Tweels witness a practical murder in glee from the usually sweet and dedicated 'wife' of Azul, wondering if they'll ever find the same type of wife like you.

•Holy sevens, here we go again. Didn't this happened last time?

•You were there, forcing the mer to get tf out of that forsaken water, but even if the mer tried to escape under water, you followed with abnormal strength and speed.

The mer kidnapper: "WHAT THE FUCK IS THATTT????" *He said while swimming away from the oncoming silhouette of an angry mother.*

•Yes, your child is safe. Just witnessing you shoving a rock in the mer's throat, flipping him twice, spinning him across the air, and throwing him upwards into the sky, then blasting his dehydrated ass towards the sun.

•Yea, you were officially the man of the house. Not him, damn.

THE END!

A/n: sorry if it took awhile!!! @nesting-dreams !!

[rabotimagines]

This is a bit old but I was reading this post of yours https://www.tumblr.com/rabotimagines/777430496310329344/battlefield-flirting-gn-bot-reader-x-megatron

And it for me thinking of the constructicons cause the way your wrote Scrapper was adorable. And it had me thinking of a rare time the bots and cons have to work together over something, and you have the constructicons being little fangirls.

And holding back Scrapper from going over as he gushes you glanced at them(completely missing Long Hual who’s already walking over)

Just big dorks, I love big dumb himbo mechs my sweets

Please never be shy to mention my older works I like talking about stuff I've shared old or not (*´∀｀)ﾉ, also I'm assuming you meant Scavenger based on context.

"Paparazzi" GN BOT Reader x The Constructicons

Summary: Constructicons fanning from afar. (Long Haul up close)

G1 characters: The Constructicons, a lil' bit of Ironhide.

Genre/Theme: Yearning/jealous gestalt.

Warnings: Constructicons being possessive while not in a relationship with Reader.

Pronouns: You, Your, Yours

Notes: Flirty Autobot Reader! The cons all want a piece, actually, but Constructicon focus, reader threatening Long Haul a little. (He likes it so its fine)

"Scavenger, stop fragging trying it, you useless fragger!" Bonecrucher yanked Scavenger back by his grappler. Scavenger yelped and nearly took a knee from the force of it. Scrapper grabbed his arm and forced him to stay up right before he could make a big show falling down in the dirt.

Scavenger helplessly wriggled against the hold he was in. "Why not!? We're on the same side right now!"

"Because you're going to embarrass us, you pathetic loser!" Mixmaster snapped. Hook scoffed and tried very hard to pretend he was not a part of his own gestalt via looking away from the entire scene while off to the side.

The Decepticons were on a temporary ceasefire right now with the Autobots. And well... more than a few Deceptions figured they'd obviously try and take advantage of the situation to interact with you a bit.

But the Autobots were smarter than that. Because they had made sure not to let you be without at least one of them by your side at all times. Optimus had kept you particularly close for the first joor of the cease fire. Megatron making a point to converse with both of you. Optimus smart enough not to let Megatron even a klick of privacy with you. But you just seemed somehow entertained by the development. Chiming in occasionally with your usual smile like you weren't stuck in between both faction leaders heated glares.

Thundercracker had surprisingly managed a few private words in with you. You were stuck with the twins as guards at the time, and they were both distracted by Skywarp and Strascream. All until that red mini bot noticed and came stomping in and physically got between the two of you. He immediately and loudly started chastising Thundercracker for being a pervert. That got people's helms turning back towards you and Thundercracker to retreat. While you physically held the red mini bot back from breaking the held peace.

Ironhide was with you now sitting right next to you on a large rock. And they were faced by a truth they hadn't had the privy to know before now. You and Ironhide were close to one another. Very close. Sure, you were friendly with everyone enemy or not, but-

Scapper watched you grab Ironhides arm and then use it to both pull the mech closer and lean your full frame weight against him. Ironhide jolted and stared at you with a frown. Your smile curled a bit more in clear amusement, and you said something to him. Whatever it was made, Ironhide's optics brighten, and his plating fluff. Scrapper could feel a bit of jealously curl in his own fuel tank. So Scrapper already wasn't looking forward to their next mind meld if even he was feeling this way about it.

Scrapper then watched Ironhide shove you off his arm aggressively- which had Bonecrucher and Scavengers plating visibly bristling at the sight. You were theirs to break and make after all- but you only laughed and pushed Ironhide back. The sound much lighter than how you'd usually laugh on the battlefield around any of them.

"Slag it all-!" Scrappers' attention was brought back to his gestalt when Scavenger cursed and promptly broke out of the hold he was in- and rushed forward. Oh Primus, if this idiot breaks the ceasefire on accident!

You noticed Scavenger running over and wordlessly stared. Which only made Ironhide turn and watch just as Mixmaster closed in on Scavenger and tackled him. They hit the ground, and Mixmaster sat down on top of Scavenger, effectively pinning him in place. Scavenger scrambled at the ground while Mixmaster rightfully degraded him.

And you saw that entire thing- Oh, joy and Ironhide was making his way over here now. This could only go well...

-

Ironhide marched off towards Long Haul's disruptive gestalt. Now Long Haul couldn't help letting himself get a touch closer and ended up stopping in his tracks to stare. You looked- different so close up. Well, it's not different, but it was definitely different being able to actually see you like this. Your faceplate, the shape of your olfactory, and your optics. He could even make out a few scrapes and scratches in your metal.

You must've felt him staring because you turned immediately towards him, and your optics found his visor. Oh, slag- well- it's been a fraggin while since he's done this, but he knows he's supposed to go over or make himself scarce when he's been caught staring. Long Haul glanced at Ironhide, still focused on the rest of his gestalt before he let himself get even closer to you.

"Hm- oh uh-" your optic bridge creased in thought. "...Long Haul-? Right?" You wondered aloud. Slag- you knew his designation- unaware of the effect you had on him, you just continued on. "Sorry I call y'all different things in my helm." You laughed like it was no big deal. "I like 'Doll' a bit better for you to tell the truth." You're smile curled, and Long Haul could feel his visor brightening under the playfulness in your tone.

"Uh, right. That's me! ...Ha ha-" Oh Primus, fragging come on-! it hadn't been that long since he'd done this... had it? Primus, how long had he been a Decepticon, and how long ago was his last bar pick up? Long Haul stared before finally sitting down next to you on the rock. Not nearly as close as Ironhide had been not feeling particularly lucky about you saying something if he got as close as you two had been.

Fortunately, you just seemed to find his floundering amusing because you just slightly raised your optic ridge. You then huffed a breathy vent that could have been taken as a laugh- (He was taking it as a laugh and a win in his processor.). "Right, now... what's got you over on my side of the red tape, Doll?"

"What? I can't-" Long Haul gestured vaguely, and why the slag did he do that? "Socialize during the ceasefire?"

"Oh, is that what you're doing now? How brave of you." You praised him, and Long Haul knew you were trying to make a joke from the soft amusement oozing into your voice. But he had to tamper down the urge for his engine to purr. Why the frag was he acting like this right now!? He wasn't Scavenger! Have they not had an actual interaction with you in so long that his frame was glitching over benign slag now!?

Long Haul was so worried over his frames reaction- and his plating fluffing and what you'd think that he almost misses it. But he was close. The closest he'd ever actually been to you before. And Long Haul needed to have a critical optic for noticing small slag for all the projects they'd build- so he sees it. Long Haul notices your optics crinkle and your smile becoming just slightly more pronounced over his response. Long Haul is struck with a sudden realization that made his plating clamp back down and his processor to stop to focus immediately.

You knew.

You knew what you were doing to him-!? You knew!? You knew what you'd been doing to them, and- you enjoyed it! It wasn't just some thoughtless habit!

Something heated, he usually only feels when it's all of them as Devastator forms in his tank, and he acts without thinking.

Long Haul couldn't stop himself from grabbing your arm when you almost turned away. "You know-!"

Before anything else happened, you grabbed his own arm with your free one and yanked him closer. Your chassis pressing against his own Immediately derailing his train of thought and making him release your arm. You waggled a digit in his face and clicked your glossia. The pad of the digit coming down and pressing were a mouth would've been on his mask if he had the equipment. "Careful now, Doll, you might just get burned if you get too close. We don't want that now..."

Long Haul arched his spinal strut instinctively when your other servo suddenly dug into the notches of his back. Only making him press closer to your own frame, causing a slight sound when metal pushed on metal. You tilted your helm slightly, your face now only a digit away from his own- "Do we?" Your tone was dark. Your optics sharp. Your em field that was brushing along him warmly had gone completely flat. And Long Haul suddenly remembered the other Autobots weren't the only reason the Decepticons hadn't been able to capture you right yet.

... And maybe Long Haul did want whatever you were promising him if he didn't comply.

But the look in your optics told him that was not what you wanted to hear from him right now.

"N-no." Long Haul settled on getting out.

The almost devious expression on your faceplate turned back to looser and more playful- like usual. "Good." You pulled away from him and stood up. "Till next time then, Doll!" You practically sung. With that, you turned and waltzed your way over to where his gestalt was definitely getting threatened by Ironhide- and Long Haul was suddenly very aware he really liked watching you go... he has to suppress his engine from revving, and he could still feel his back plating shifting where you'd grabbed him roughly.

You threw your arm over Ironhide's paldron and tugged him closer to you, making him and the rest of his gestalt snap their attention right to you instead. His gestalt was absolutely going to hate him when they mind melded again. But hey, it wasn't Long Haul's fault you were so addicting! Primus- they needed a better strategy to get a hold of you and make you theirs yesterday! Especially when you did everything on purpose!

They may be mad after the mind meld, but afterward, they'd at least be as serious about you as Long Haul was right now... For better or worse.

[incomingalbatross]

I like the "sweetheart" backstory. It DOES change it, from being (what looks like) a sarcastic, scornful epithet developing into a genuine endearment, to being a genuine endearment more-or-less tainted by bitterness throughout the trilogy. BUT. I don't mind that change.

Haymitch's use of it in SotR is so tender and affectionate and sounds so absolutely natural in his mouth that it's a shocking contrast between what he was as a teen and what he is by the time of the 74th Games.

Teen Haymitch is soft around kids and loved ones without any effort. Adult Haymitch's sentiments come out sharp-edged and broken and angry 90% of the time, even toward those he loves most.

It is also ENTIRELY IN KEEPING with the first use of it in THG and just adds another layer of typical cross-purposes between Haymitch and Katniss. Because the first use of it comes after Katniss shoots the apple out of the roast pig's mouth, then comes back and locks herself in her room and cries for an hour because she's Ruined Everything.

At dinner a few hours later, we get this:

The adults begin some chitchat about the weather forecast, and I let my eyes meet Peeta’s. He raises his eyebrows. A question. What happened? I just give my head a small shake. Then, as they’re serving the main course, I hear Haymitch say, “Okay, enough small talk, just how bad were you today?” Peeta jumps in. “I don’t know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go.” That makes me feel a bit better. It’s not like Peeta attacked the Gamemakers, but at least he was provoked, too. “And you, sweetheart?” says Haymitch. Somehow Haymitch calling me sweetheart ticks me off enough that I’m at least able to speak. “I shot an arrow at the Gamemakers.”

Katniss clearly takes it as condescending and insincere, and so do we - but the SotR intrepretation WORKS here. And makes it much funnier.

Haymitch, looking at Katniss's tear-blotched face and trying to figure out what went wrong: "And you, sweetheart?" WAIT why did I call her that no I'm not supposed to CARE about them abort abort abort Katniss "surely Peeta is trying to sabotage me when he's being nice and says he loves me" Everdeen, reacting characteristically: How DARE he patronize me like that

And the other thing I like is that it adds a layer to the Haymitch-Katniss relationship. We all know the parallels, we all know they both see themselves in each other and hate it... BUT this means that he also saw Louella in her. He doesn't just see her as a younger mirror of him, he sees a smart, spunky little girl he tried to protect and couldn't. A girl who deserved to be safe from the Games. And I just... it makes me happy that Haymitch was seeing her from the start as a child he wanted to protect, along with a kindred spirit.

ALSO, finally, I think if/when Katniss learned this was an inherited endearment she'd have very messy feelings about that. Which is fun.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

unfulfilled order. l Din Djarin

💔 a few ways to break your heart 💔

Summary: you didn't follow his orders, but you didn't think it would end like this

Warnings: angst, one grumpy Mandalorian, tears, being abandoned on a planet, team breakup

A/N: the second season of broken hearts. new character.

your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. 🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

a few ways to break a heart [masterlist]

The rain was falling so hard you could barely see more than a few feet in front of you. It wasn't until lightning streaked across the black sky that you saw the Razor Crest in the distance. You were close. The heavy footsteps behind you indicated that Mando was still with you. You hadn't spoken since the incident, but you felt a conversation was inevitable. Not after what had happened.

“You were supposed to stay on the ship,” he growled as soon as the Razor Crest’s bridge closed and you were standing in the dry, warm interior.

You took off your wet jacket and threw it on the floor. “You needed help. Those guys were dangerous.”

“You were supposed to stay on the ship,” the Mandalorian repeated. You glared at him.

"I already told you. Those guys were..."

The warrior took a step towards you. He towered over you, his armor making him seem even larger. Meanwhile, your clothes were so wet they stuck to you like a second skin. The cold slowly seeped through your body, freezing your bones. But fire burned in your eyes, and Mando could see it clearly through the visor in his helmet.

"Once again, you disobeyed my orders," he said. He sounded calm, but you could sense that he was overcome with emotion. "I can't work with you if I can't be sure that you'll listen to me."

“I’ll listen to you if your orders aren’t so idiotic,” you hissed. “You were one against four guys in uncharted territory. Yes, that’s very smart.”

"I've dealt with situations like this before."

"But now you have me. I'm here to help you!"

"So far, you've only caused problems!"

The Mandalorian's last words hung in the air. You stared at him as if you were waiting for him to say more, as if you were challenging him to take up the fight, but he just turned around and disappeared behind the cockpit door.

"Dank Farrik!" you hissed, feeling tears welling up in your eyes. This wasn't how it was supposed to end.

You had been traveling with Din for quite some time now. You had been useful, or at least you had liked to think so, although he had never told you so. You had helped him care for Grogu, you had occasionally done minor repairs to the ship, and in reality you had accompanied him on his quests. You had made a good team. Until now.

The Mandalorian had been cold towards you for some time now, speaking even less and avoiding situations when you were alone. Maybe you had done something wrong? Maybe you had offended him somehow? You weren't sure. The code he upheld was respected by you, the orders he gave were carried out, almost.

“Din?” You noticed him twitch slightly when you entered the cockpit some time later. You were already dressed in dry clothes, but your hair was still damp. “I… I won’t apologize. I did what I thought was right, just like you’ve done many times.”

Silence. His hand, hidden in leather gloves, moved over the panel, pressing some buttons, but he didn't say a word. You folded your arms across your chest and took a deep breath.

"They could have killed you. I couldn't let that happen."

"Baskar protects me. And what protects you?" his voice sounded like a machine, completely devoid of emotion.

"I managed. I managed on my own for so many years. I didn't suddenly become useless because I met you!"

"I don't know how you survived so long being so thoughtless and irresponsible."

You unconsciously dug your nails into your arms harder, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. Mando had never spoken to you like that before. He ignored you, and that was even more humiliating.

You wanted to say something. You wanted to make him look at you. You would rather have him yell at you than treat you so coldly.

Finally he spoke, but it wasn’t anything you wanted to hear. “I’ll leave you on Nevarro. Greef Karga will find you something to do. Something that won’t pose a threat to others.”

"You're not serious." You gasped out in surprise. "And you? You'll leave me there? Alone?"

"You'll manage. You've always managed, right?"

You looked at the reflection of his helmet in the cockpit window, not believing what you were hearing. You didn't deserve to be treated like this! You wanted to say something. You were overcome with the urge to shake him, to make him understand that you were only doing this out of concern for his safety.

Mando must have seen the expression on your face in the reflection, because he spoke before you did.

"You should get some sleep."

The soft sound of the automatic doors let him know you had left the cockpit.

"Good to see you! Still hanging around with that armored guy?" Greef Karga's cheerful and deep voice reached you as soon as you set foot on the Nevarro landing pad.

The warm sun was shining on your face, and a pleasant light wind was playing with your hair. The man approached and shook your hand, but after a moment he frowned.

"What happened?" he asked with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"Ask him." You grumbled, nodding towards the Mandalorian exiting the ship. "Maybe he'll tell you more."

"But..."

You adjusted your backpack and headed towards the city buildings. You didn't feel like spending another second near Din. You didn't want to be humiliated any longer.

It wasn’t until an hour later, after you’d showered and prepared a meal, that someone knocked on your apartment door. Karga slipped inside with an uncertain smile on his lips, looking around the modest room. “You know you could always move in here, but I thought you’d choose Din’s house. That’s where you lived before. With him and Grogu.”

“I have no intention of forcing myself on him.” You replied a little more nervously than you intended. “Besides, he made it clear that he didn’t need me.”

“He would never say that.” Greef snickered, but looking at you, he immediately became serious. “He said that? Oh, you didn’t believe him, did you?”

“He was quite convincing.” You were chopping vegetables so hard that at the last second you pulled your hand back so you wouldn’t cut your finger. “I think our partnership is over. If you could help me find something new here, that would be great.”

A large, warm hand touched your shoulder as the man patted you fatherly. “Din must have meant something. He’s changed a lot since you flew with him.”

You turned around, looking at your friend with tears in your eyes. “Do you really think so? For the past few weeks, he’s made me feel like I’m nothing but a nuisance. He doesn’t say anything, and when he does, he just criticizes me.” Your voice shook, but you quickly regained control. “I couldn’t let those thugs hurt him or kill him, I would do it again if I had to. But he… He treats me like I’m just a nuisance or a problem. It was different at first, but now… I have no idea what’s changed.”

"Din can be stubborn. But he never does anything rash."

“Oh, thanks!” you snorted, smirking. “Just find me someone. I’ll hook up with some crew and soon I’ll be completely out of his sight.”

Greef cleared his throat, then added quietly. "Din cares about you, you know that, right?"

"I don't think any of us knew him. I thought I did, but as soon as I did something... Kriff! Just find me a job, okay? I want to get this over with."

Finally, the man nodded, said goodbye, and left you alone. You felt awful. It wasn't until you were alone that you allowed yourself to cry. If you meant nothing to Din, if you were just unnecessary ballast, what were you supposed to do now to deal with all these feelings? You'd never seen the man's face, but you were sure you'd recognize him on the street without a problem.

“Never mind. You’ll forget…” you mumbled quietly to yourself, wiping your cheeks with your hand. “He’s already forgotten about you.”

redemption : unfulfilled order. l Din Djarin

[rosenclaws]

Hi! I really, really love your writing, especially these headcanons.

This is gonna sound really weird but could you write Logan with a reader who struggles with friendships and making friends? And general loneliness?

I'm struggling with feeling like I have no one right now and I just would really like to read about Logan loving on me and making me forget that for a bit

HI!! of course I can. we don't really talk and im so ass at responding BUT my dms or inbox is always open if you need someone to talk to <33 I really understand where ur coming from this was literally me all through college. I didn’t make a single friend bc I commuted and I felt so lonely. Also dofp and trilogy logan can be read more platonic so if u arent happy with it i can redo them!

Origins Logan -

I think that Logan isn’t great with making friends either. He’s not super interested in making friends so he’s very content being alone or being with you. But he notices a small sadness in your eyes sometimes. How you never seem to go out with people or the way your voice falls when he tells you he’s going to the bar after work with some work friends. He wasn’t sure what it was at first but then he saw you tucked away with tears in your eyes one night and decided it to get to the bottom of things.

See making friends is hard. You try. You really do. But no matter how nice you are and how much you try to reach out it just never works out. You never told Logan about it. Fearing he’d laugh or think you were lame. But it breaks his heart to see you so sad. He puts you in his lap and assures you that he’s there for you. He’ll be your boyfriend, your best friend, your support system. Hell he’ll even be your enemy if you wanted him to be.

He takes you out to town more in his free time encouraging you to join that book club you see flyers for or maybe that running group. Of course he won’t push anything but he just wants to see you happy. Whatever you need from him he’ll be. Because he loves you and he’ll be by your side through it all.

Trilogy Logan -

It’s stupid. At least it feels stupid. You live in a mansion with people just like you. Yet somehow you just feel lonely. You didn’t grow up here. You came very late in life and your powers didn’t warrant a spot on the team. In fact you swear the only reason Charles let you in is because they needed an art teacher. You’d sit in the kitchen at dinner by yourself while everyone was chatting around the counter. You would take walks when the students and staff played games. You were never invited to go out afterwards. Hell you aren’t even sure anyone else knows your name.

Until Logan came along. You knew him, of course you did he was The Wolverine after all. But you swore he never even gave you a second glance. It was your birthday and you were once again alone. You debated on going to the store and buying a cupcake but before you could make a decision Logan made it for you. A cute pink box sat on your bed with a card in very proper handwriting. The card just read Happy birthday signed by Logan of all people. It was your favorite flavor too. You confronted him and he just shrugged. He had always seen you but he was a lone wolf kind of guy. Still he liked you and in the spirit of…teamwork? He reached out. Logan was more than the grumpy man you thought he was. He was funny and had a sharp tongue. But he was sweet and a big softie. Only you got to see that side. He was your friend and slowly he made you feel seem. Made you feel loved. Now you have someone to exist in silence with and you’ve never been happier.

DOFP Logan -

I think it’s similar to trilogy Logan in the sense that he sees you when you feel like no one else does. He’s observant and the man can see that you don’t talk much to anyone. At a staff event you stayed quiet in the corner. Your face had “get me out” written all over it. A look he knows too well. He doesn’t know what draws him to you exactly. He thinks your smart and the kids love your class so why hasn’t he seen you around more.

The truth is you hated these events because you want to be apart of the fun so badly. To talk and laugh and befriend the people everyone seems to idolize. But no matter how hard you tried you just faded to the back. Making friends isn’t as easy as asking someone if they like ponies or the color purple. So when Logan. The Wolverine of all people walked up to and talked to you. It was bizarre. Not that you were complaining but fuck how did he even know who you were?

You start to overthink everything with Logan. Are you too clingy? Too forward? Should you ask if he wants coffee when you asked him yesterday if he wanted an extra donut? Eventually I think he asks you about it and you confess that making friends isn’t easy for you. Logan doesn’t think you’re weird or a loser for it. He understands shit happens and things aren’t easy for everyone. He is not a people person either and making friends is low on his skill set. But he likes you a lot and he’ll happily be your friend. Maybe more if you’re interested. He’ll be whatever you want him to be.

Old Man Logan -

Logan notices you’re just a little off. That you aren’t as happy as you used to be. A part of him is worried it’s his fault. He’s gone so much working and when he’s home he’s exhausted. He tries to take out on a nice date every other week. Something that you’ll remember for a long time. He’ll by you flowers he thinks are pretty from the store. They aren’t the most expensive but you don’t care. Was he not doing enough? I think he hides his worry until one day he finds you teary eyed laying on your bed and he can’t hold it in any longer.

It feels silly to tell him. He’s got so much on his plate and it’s not his fault he has things to do. He takes such good care of you and loves you. But you’re lonely. You go to work you come home and that’s it. You have Logan but you don’t have any friends and its starting to weigh on you. You try but people can be mean or they already have friends. You feel like theres something wrong with yoj. Logan frowns as he reassures you there’s nothing wrong with you. Absolutely nothing. Making friends ain’t as easy for some people and that’s okay. He would pick you up in his arms and cuddle you. He makes an effort to be the person you can always come to. Texting you things in between his rides. He’ll let you blow up his phone with everything you’re doing. He can’t always respond but he promises he reads it. When he comes home he’ll listen to you talk, ask a few questions and smile when you do. It can be hard but the loneliness isn’t forever and Logan will be your beacon for as long as you need him.

Worst Logan -

Wade has a lot of friends and sometimes it can be overwhelming as hell. So sometimes Logan just fucks off for a little bit. He enjoys the quiet more than the noise of people. That’s where he meets you. You live next door but he’s never met you. Not even Wade really knows who you are. You’re quiet and reserved and seem to stumble on your words. But Logan likes you. You’re much more tolerable than Wade for long periods of time. Sometimes you show up to ask for help or to drop off something but you don’t stay long.

After a while Logan asks why you don’t come to dinner or any of Wade’s parties. That’s when you tell him the truth. You aren’t Wade’s friend and that sometimes your jealousy gets the best of you when it comes to hearing how much joy and life comes from his apartment. Wade is friends with just about everyone but for some reason he never bothered to befriend you. You’re lonely and despite your small attempts to become closer they never went anywhere so you kind of just gave up. Until Logan came along. He was nice and he looked at you and gave you the time of day.

Admitting to him you were lonely was hard but he understands. He was the same way for years. All his friends had died and he had no one for a long time. He never wants to be that lost again and he won’t let you feel that way anymore either. He listens and he tells you that things might feel bad now but it will get better. He can’t tell you when but he’s there and he hopes his company can distract you even just for a little bit. Wade was appalled with himself for not introducing himself sooner once Logan brings you to a Sunday dinner.

He doesn’t force you to talk to anyone or suddenly expect you to be amazing at making friends with these strangers but he is there when you look back. Offering a smile that encourages you to open up just a little more. And if things feel like you’re losing it again, he’s right there to comfort you. He’s just a wall away and there’s no where else he’d rather be than with you.

[supernatural-bias]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐬 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

↳ includes: scout, engineer, heavy, medic, sniper, and spy (i forgot demo i'm so sorry)

↳ warnings: bad translations, slight mentions of world war two and malpractice

↳ song: with a little help from my friends—joe cocker

masterlist | commissions | carrd

𝐒𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐭

• He would be so smug about it

• Puffing his chest out and everything

• His friends in the past- and even family members -have teased him for mispronouncing words or speaking too fast, and it’s made him a bit self conscious about the way he talks. But after hearing that you find it endearing, its a giant ego boost for him

• “Yeah dat’s right! Who’s awesome? I’m awesome!” Scout smiles as he flexes his arms in your face, subjecting you to what he likes to call a surprise gun show. You pretend to hate it as you shove his arm away, but chuckle all the same

• He’s already gloated before that he already knew his accent was the best. Boston is the greatest place in the world after all! But hearing it from you really just sent him over the moon

• Makes a point to talk to you a lot more now; as if he didn’t already

• “Yo! Hey did you see that kill out there? I totally messed dat Spy up! One wrong step and pow! He’s dead meat!”

• “I saw Scout. I was covering your flank while you did it, remember?”

• “Yeah yeah, but I just thought you’d like ta hear about it again.”

𝐄𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐫

• Didn’t consider himself to have an accent until you pointed him out

• Sure, he says the occasional y’all and ain’t, but not enough to qualify as a whole different way of speaking

• It wasn’t until he dropped a hammer on his foot and cursed that he understood what you’d meant

• “What in the sam hill! Sweet hell!” He’d exclaimed, startled. Once the throbbing in his leg had subsided, Engineer replayed his words in his head, making a slight o with his mouth as he realized you were probably right. To some extent at least

• He was a born and raised Texas boy, so it makes sense that the culture rubbed off

• Doesn’t understand at first that you find it nice. Maybe he thought you pointed it out just because you could? He’s a bit distracted when it comes to anything but machinery, so he misses context sometimes

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲

• Surprised that someone like you who can speak English fluently finds his mannerisms attractive

• Gets frustrated sometimes when he can’t remember certain words in English. Heavy is a very smart man, so it aggravates him when he looks illiterate in front of his team

• That’s why hearing that you like his mother tongue caught him by surprise

• “But you don’t know any Russian?” He’d rumbled out as a question. When you shook your head no, still sporting a smile, his eyebrows furrowed further

• “Nah. But I like hearing it when it comes from you. It sounds more natural. Like you’re more comfortable than normal, you know?”

• You’re technically right. When Heavy slips into Russian, often whilst talking to Sasha or simply forgetting that not everyone on the team know how to speak it, he is more comfortable in his words. They flow better, and he’s flattered that you’ve noticed

• One hundred percent offers to teach you Russian in his spare time. He finds it slightly adorable how you stumble over words in your broken translations, but always manages to softly correct you

• He’s a really good teacher

𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜

• Positively thrilled that you like his voice

• When you tell him for the first time, he goes into shock for a moment before breaking out into the biggest smile you’ve seen. Somehow its a perfect balance between excited and malicious

• “Do you hear zhat Archemedies? Mein freund here enjoys my accent!” He cooes at his bird, chuckling in a way that would make anyone’s insides squirm

• Once you look past Medic’s initially devious reaction, it’s very clear he enjoys knowing this

• If anything, the ex-doctor would have thought that you’d enjoy the more stereotypically romantic sounding languages. Spanish, Latin, etc

• German has always been considered harsh or scary sounding, and it turned a lot of people away from hiring him after the events of World War Two, which he understood. Still, Medic finds himself absolutely tickled that you are drawn to his accent

• Finds himself slipping more and more into German while doing checkups on you now. When he catches himself, he translates most of what’s he’s said back to you. But sometimes he’ll simply forget, and it leaves you wondering if he’s offered you a glass of water or the opportunity to swap your bladder out

• You sincerely hoped it was the former

𝐒𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫

• Oh my god you killed him

• Sniper is very reserved. Living in his camper, hunting his own game for dinner instead of joining the others, literally pissing in jars, etc etc

• Being a man of few words comes part and parcel with that; which normally works out just find because Scout talks enough for ten people

• Hasn’t said much to you before. He mostly communicates in head nods or slight tilts of his coffee mug in your direction. Maybe a few ‘good mornin’s’ tossed around, but nothing more than that

• “You know, you should talk more.” You’d said to him one day while pouring a fresh pot of tea you had just boiled into your own mug. He preferred black coffee himself, but whatever floats your boat

• “You voice.” You elaborated after a sip. You must have noticed his confused look as you carried on. “It’s nice. Can’t imagine that you don’t have gals throwing themselves at you all the time because of it.”

• Suddenly very grateful he wasn’t drinking any of his brew at the time, because what you said surely would have made him choked

• He, in fact, had had a few ladies approach him in town before saying something along the same lines. Even a few fellas. But nothing made him blanch this strongly like you had

• Excuses himself as he walks out of the room suddenly, tilting his hat down to cover his face no one can see the furious red tint forming

• Sniper leaves you in the communal kitchen. Holding a steaming cup of liquid and looking very confused

𝐒𝐩𝐲

• Already knew before you told him

• To anyone else, it would have been passible as just curiosity. But Spy’s job is to know things, and it is an undeniable fact that you found his voice attractive

• Doesn’t utilize this weapon often. You are not a weak willed person swayed by just a few words, so when he needs something he pulls out all the stops

• Of course, that doesn’t stop him from being impressed when you eventually admit your little not-so-secret-secret to him. And of your own free will. He didn’t have to pry it out of you, which was a feat on its own

• Much like Heavy, he extends the offer of teaching you how to learn his language. Now that he no longer has this knowledge as a bargaining chip, he might as well seize the opportunity to teach you a proper language

• Considers using electroshock therapy to condition you faster, but nixes it pretty quick

• Again, like Heavy, he finds it cute how horrible you are at French. More amused than anything, but he can appreciate the way you practice verbs in your free time even when he isn’t leaning over your shoulder

• That you know of, that is

• Praises you often in french, letting excited phrases slip when you nail a particularly hard set of words

• “Merveilleux ! Tu t’améliores beaucoup, ma petite. Encore une fois.”

• While you don’t understand the full extent to his words, you smile and continue on, eventually realizing what he had said later in a fit of embarrassment