#okay now back to your regularly scheduled programming | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lainiespicewrites · 4 months ago

Text

Needing some attention

Hello all! Just a little sherlock one shot that was cooking up in my head! God I love that man!! I promise We'll get back to the regularly scheduled program soon! I PROMISE!!!

Summary: Sherlock is busy with work, and you try your best to stay out of his way but you can be quite fussy when you want his attention.

Warnings: Cursing. Sex MDNI, P in V sex. Fingering, Multiple Orgasms. Creampie. Unprotected sex. dirty talk. Sherlock being painfully handsome! Soft Dom sherlock

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Entranced, yes that was the word. I was fully entranced just watching from the doorway. The bright morning sun streams through the window of the study, casting a warm glow around him as he works. His features are almost angelic, of course; truly, he was anything but. The thought causes a soft giggle to escape my lips.

“If you were trying to be discreet, you’ve blown your cover,” he says, his voice low, smooth, and calm. There’s an ever-present smirk on his face. Throughout the whole interaction, he never once looks up from his desk. Another giggle escaped me, and I took a few steps into the study.

“Not sneaking, simply admiring.” I smile. “You’ve been working at this one for quite some time,” I tell him. I walk over to his desk, standing behind him, my hands gently resting on his large shoulders. His smirk grows wider, and he hums softly. I feel myself gasp as the detective captures one of my hands from his shoulders and brings it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm.

“Yes,” He says, his voice steady and strong. “And still much more work to do. I don’t want to keep you cooped up in here watching me go mad. It’s a beautiful day, darling. Why don’t you go take in some of that lovely sunshine we’ve been blessed with, and I’ll work on finishing up here.” I bite my lip, my eyebrow raised in question, but I hold back my protest. Sherlock is a busy man. I’ve always known that. He never blatantly tries to ignore me or keep me otherwise occupied. So I nod, giving him a soft smile. I lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“Okay, my love, please try not to go too crazy, will you?” I giggle. The request earns me a chuckle, and he looks up briefly to meet my gaze as I move to leave his study.

“I shall do my best, my darling.” He says before turning back to his work, leaving me alone again with my thoughts. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right; as always, I shouldn’t waste away in this flat waiting for him to finish his work.

So I do head out to town for a while. I walk the streets of downtown London in the warm spring air, breathing life into me. I stop at the market to see what fresh flowers they’ve got. Baker Street could certainly use a touch of color, and I know Sherlock won’t mind. After picking out a few bunches, my basket full of florals, herbs, and a few baked goods, I make my way back to the flat. It’s late afternoon now. I busy myself arranging the flowers in vases and putting away my other goods.

I still haven’t heard a sound from Sherlock. Peeking my head into his study, I see he’s still right where I left him. I sighed and shook my head. With nothing better to do I join him in his study. I scan his shelves for something to read, it’s been one of our favorite ways to spend quiet time together lately. Lying together in the garden, reading our respective stories. I look over at him again; still lost in his work, he’s probably barely even noticed my presence. Finding a story that is a particular favorite of mine I curl up on the chaise and open the book.

This may not have been nearly as good an idea as I’d thought. Since I woke this morning, I’ve been craving Sherlock's affections. Sitting so close now, only to be ignored and left unnoticed, has only annoyed me. I let out a huff, sitting up and looking over at his desk… nothing. I sigh and turn back to my book. I lie back, settling in again, struggling to get comfortable. Another hour passes. Or at least it feels like an hour. I suppose I can’t be sure. And I feel as if I’m going to go insane. I let out a groan of frustration.

“Not enjoying the story?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. He’s far too smart to believe that is the source of my plight. I pull back from my book far enough for him to see me roll my eyes, and he chuckles. “I do so love watching you squirm.” He says with a dark glint in his eye. And finally, he lays down his pen and slams his book shut. I raise an eyebrow at him, not daring to speak a word, but my eyes are full of challenge.

“I was hoping to spend a nice relaxing evening with you, my darling,” he teases. “But seem’s you needs an attitude adjustment.” He’s standing behind me, his breath hot on my ear as he purrs. “Am I going to have to fuck it out of you darling? Or are you going to apologize for being so bratty and impatient?” My mouth goes dry, and my body is suddenly on fire.

“S-sherlock.” I gasp. “I- my love, I didn’t intend to … I-” I stutter, trying to find the words, but it seems all competent thoughts have left me. This is just how he wants me. This is exactly what I meant, Sherlock is no angel. He likes to play dirty. Make me flustered and shy and needy. He won’t stop until I’m begging. Nothing gives him more pleasure than making me tell him all the dirty things I’d love him to do to me. All it takes is a look, and he has me melting. And as annoyed with him as I am for turning me into a brainless, incompetent, desperate woman. He knows this is exactly what I’ve been needing all day.

He chuckles and steps around the sofa, standing in front of me. He takes the book from my hands, tossing it to the side. He leans over me, a primal look in his eye as his knee gently parts my thighs and he hovers over me on the sofa.

“What didn’t you intend to do, my love? Hmm? Did you not intend to huff and pout for my attention? Is that it?” He smirks, nipping playfully at my ear as he chuckles darkly. “You just forgot your words, didn’t you darling, just forgot how to ask properly. It’s alright, my sweet. I’ll remind you.” He purrs his lips trailing down my jaw and neck as his tongue traces my collar bone.

“I’m sorry, my love.” I pant, my chest heaving. Instinctively, I tilt my head back to allow him better access. He lets out a feral growl, and his hands squeeze my hips possessively as he starts to explore my body with his touch.

“Oh, I know you are my sweet. And I’m going to give you the attention you so badly need.” He smirks, his hands slide under my skirt gripping my thighs, a low growl escaping him as he kisses my neck. I let out a soft needy moan my body arching into his my thighs naturally spreading to make room for him. He chuckles his breath tickling my skin where he’s biting at my collarbone.

“Still so impatient; you haven’t learned your lesson, have you my darling?” he cradles my face in his hands, kissing me passionately. His tongue explored my mouth as we kissed. When he pulls back, he grabs my wrist, nearly dragging me off the chaise. Before I can begin to fall, he catches me, holding me against his chest. “Now what should I do with you?” He purrs. I look up at him, my eyes blown wide with lust and desire.

“Sherlock, please,” I begged, my voice weak and pathetic. He lets out a low growl that I can feel deep in his chest. He grabs me around the waist, picking me up he holds me tightly with one arm as the other sweeps the papers from his desk. He sets me down and steps between my parted thighs.

“Please what, my love? Hmm? Ask for what you want darling.” He teases his hand, slowly creeping up my thigh again. his fingers graze the fabric of my panties, and my breath hitches.

“I-I can’t.” I blush, biting my lip. Sherlock chuckles his other hand gripping my chin to make me look at him.

“Yes, you can, sweetheart. You’ve had those filthy little desires playing in your head all day. And I want to hear every detail,” he growls. My breath catches in my throat as I hold his gaze.

“T-touch me,” I beg and grab his wrist, pressing his fingers more firmly against my core. “Here, please,” I whine. Sherlock lets out another low growl, capturing my lips in a searing kiss as he starts to slowly rub me through my panties. I whimper and arch into his body.

“So wet already. You’re such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He smirks, and finally, he slips his fingers beneath the fabric of my panties, pushing two inside me, curling them as he starts to pump them in and out. I let out a desperate mewl, my hips moving, grinding on his hand. He moves his thumb to rub circles on my clit. He smirks as he watches my face contort with pleasure. “That’s it, my love. So beautiful when you’re like this. So desprate for my affection. He adds a third finger and pumps them faster, curling them just right so I’m seeing starts. My hands come up to clutch his shirt, my thighs shaking and head falling back, letting out a needy moan. My walls clamp around his fingers gushing on his hand.

“Oh sherlock!” I whimper, panting as I come down from my orgasm.

“That was beautiful sweetheart,” He smiles, kissing me tenderly. “We’re far from done. You know that, don’t you?” he teases. I giggle, nodding shyly. Without further preamble, he tears open my blouse, his eyes raking over me hungrily. He tears off his own shirt, tossing it aside, and cups my face, kissing me passionately. He gently pushes me back, laying me back on the desk, his lips trailing down my body. He stops when he gets to my breasts squeezing them softly and leaning down to capture my nipple in his mouth sucking and flicking with his tongue. I moan loudly, my back arching, pushing my breast further against his mouth.

He groans sucking soflty and then swithing to give attention to the other breasts. He shoves up my skirt, bunching it around my waist, and then fumbles with his zipper.

“I can’t wait be inside you,” He moans. I gasp as I feel the thick head of his cock brush through my folds

“My love, please, I need to feel you filling me. Make me whole.” I beg. With a feral growl, he surges forward, sheathing himself inside my tight heat. He lets out a groan, giving me only a moment to adjust before he sets a punishing pace.

“Fuck,” He moans. “You’re so tight, so perfect, darling. Is this what you needed, my sweet? To be filled and taken. Reminded who you belong to?” I nod and let out a breathy moan. He pulls my leg up around his hip and drives into me deeper. The angle allows him to hit that perfect spot deep within me. My eyes roll back, and I feel myself climbing to my high.

“My perfect girl,” sherlock praises his as he brings his thumb between us to rub my clit. My body shakes beneath him as he captures my lips in another searing kiss.” Thats it, my love. Let go,” he coos. “Let me feel all your pent up desire and love as you cum for me.” he encourages. I feel my pussy spasming on his cock and he growls “Good girl,” With those words I tumble over the edge my toes curling my head falling back gushing on his cock as my body trembles with pleasure.

“Sherlock!” I cry out as my orgasm crashes over me and he fucks me through it. I feel his hips start to falter and he takes my hand pinning my wrists to the desk as he fucks me, his breathing ragged as he lets out a string of incoheart praises.

“Yes,.. fuck.. You’re perfect, my love. Gonna fill you with my seed… such a good girl for me. Take it all, darling.” He growls in my ear, his body going stiff as he releases inside me. His hips jerk softly as he works himself through his orgasm.

We stayed like that for a moment, our bodies connected and whole. With a soft groan, Sherlock stands and slowly pulls out of me. He takes my hand, helping me sit up on the desk. He cups my face and peppers it with kisses, pulling back and searching my face for any sign of discomfort. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, his voice soft and tender. I nod a satisfied smile on my lips.

“Yes darling, I’m perfect.” I giggle. “I am sorry for being such a brat when I’m being needy.” I blush, ducking my head to tuck myself against his chest. Sherlock chuckles.

“I know you are, my sweet. the truth is.” He says with a slight smirk in his voice. “I quite enjoy it, I was finished with my work hours ago. But I do so enjoy watching you squirm.” He winks.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ let me know what you think! Comments and reblogs are always welcome!! Tag list

@foxyjwls007

@enchantedbytomandhenry

@summersong69

@carrie80reads

@identity2212

@caramariehurst

@redheadrouge

@warriormirkwood

@gummydummy19

@deandoesthingstome

@shellyshellshell

@mary-ann84

@starfirewildheart

@henryownsme

@mollymal

@wa-ni

@toooldforobsessions

@pono-pura-vida

@Chloeforde

@liecastillo

@mrsevans90

@evie-119

@margauxmargaux07

@thearcana-moonlight

@secretdream2

@wtfdudesblog

@juliaorpll78

@nothingbettertosay81

@bobabubblebuttbitch

#henry cavill #fanfic writing #fanfiction #henry cavil x reader #henry cavill smut #henry sherlock #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock smut #captain syverson #captain syverson x ofc #august walker #captain syverson smut

305 notes · View notes

buurmanuitwien · 1 month ago

Note

hii love ur new joost imagin, if your reqs are opened i wanted to request a joost x reader where theyre dating and they do the trend grwm except my boyfriend does the voiceover

ofc!! i hope u enjoy, sorry it's short, finals szn is evil >:(

grwm

influencer!reader x joost

fem!reader x joost

description: you're an influencer, and joost does your voiceover.

//fluff

word count: .6k

WARNING: RPF FANFICTION AHEAD

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

a/n: sorry if your not from a german speaking country, pretend it's whatever language u speak from that one line

“Try being an influencer for a day, try it.” is by far your favorite Tiktok quote.

Because you have! You are actively an influencer and by god is it easy. A minute long video of you doing your makeup every morning, with a vlog, fit check, or rant video later, and you made enough to live comfortably. This left you with time to do your favorite things, put your full effort into side projects that result in something you love, volunteering at your local Women’s shelter, spending time with your boyfriend.

Who, by the way, your fans adore. When you first hard launched it was an odd mingling of fanbases. The fans of his music weren’t exactly the type of people who’d watch a pretty girl list her pet peeves while washing her face. But then again, your fans, your actual fans, the ones that followed every side project of yours and met it with overwhelming praise and enthusiasm, they were the type to be into Joost’s stuff. In fact, one of the top comments was “OMG MY TWO WORLDS COLLIDING”. But over the years, as you have evolved into a more individual creator, Joost and you became a unit. You had ad libbed on a number of his songs, he was in many of your videos, so on and so forth.

So it wasn’t surprising for your followers to receive your latest video. You at your desk filled the screen, and Joost’s voice began to play.

“What is up guys? It’s Joost, and I’m here to voice over mijn meisje’s morning routine.” Joost exclaimed, intro practiced and perfect from his days being a content creator.

“Joost!” Your followers can hear you whisper laugh. “They don’t speak dutch!”

“Um okay. Hallo zusammen. Guten Tag.” He speaks in short, terrible german.

You start to laugh again, but it's quickly covered by Joost’s commentary. “So first, she puts these clips on, forehead out. Now she's putting something on her face uh..”

He trails off as you put REFY primer on your face. You weren’t a fan of the primer, but you chose it for the video because it looks like-

“Is that fucking jizz?!” Joost shrieks and you lose it in the background.

The video goes silent for a second before a new recording starts. “Sorry for the interruption, back to regularly scheduled programming.”

You begin to put on foundation as Joost says, “Now we’re onto the base, AKA contour.”

A quiet “no” accompanied by a giggle has him correcting himself. “No, she says no.” he says, trying to stifle a laugh.

You begin to blend with a beauty blender as Joost says, “Now we are hitting ourselves in the face. Why?”

He pauses for a second as you show off a blush palette to the camera and begin to apply. “Okay now we are putting on some blush on our cheeks to um… make em red, make us look more.. Happy?” Joost tries.

You cackle but quiet immediately as a new body enters the frame. Joost is now on screen, as voice over him gleefully says, “Oh eyeliner! I know this one! But who's that sexy guy?”

Video-Joost carefully lifts up your chin, eye pencil in hand. As he carefully begins to apply it, voiceover-Joost is loudly complaining. “Who does he think he is? Touching my girlfriend like that.” Joost finishes applying your eyeliner in the video and presses a kiss to your forehead. Voiceover-Joost is still loudly complaining, until the sound of a pillow hitting his head shuts him up. The video ends with you smiling and waving at the camera as Joost says softly, “Oh mijn liefde, zo mooi.”

#joost klein fanfic #joost klein x reader #joost klein #joost klein x y/n #joost klein x you #joost x reader #joost #joost x you #joost fanfic #joost klein fluff #joost fluff #mari's scribbles

221 notes · View notes

formulafics · 2 years ago

Text

★ THE JPG CHRONICLES | PART 4

Scenario: in which the grid and fan favorite mclaren reserve driver opens a jpg account, but it isn’t what was expected. this time around, yn ln finally reveals who her boyfriend is.

Pairing: f1 grid x fem!reader

A/N: guys, we’ve made it to the last part of the jpg chronicles. i just want to thank everyone who’s followed along with this and i hope you enjoy 🫶🏻 also paying homage to the pink and orange theme since all of the other parts use that!

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3

yn.jpg

liked by logansargeant, landonorris, oscarpiastri, mclaren, and 245,678 others

yn.jpg VEGAS BABY ‼️ mom (my pr manager) said i can’t say what i want to say about the race. she also said if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all…so anyways vegas is pretty cool race aside 🥰

view all 5,432 comments

yn.jpg shoutout to @/logansargeant for his first appearance on this account!

⤷ logansargeant thank you yn

⤷ yn.jpg your welcome!!

landonorris caption is real

norrisnation yn speaking for the lando girlies (gn) once again

rizzciardo LMFAO REFERRING TO YOUR PR MANAGER AS MOM

⤷ yn.jpg she is mother

alphatauritaurialpha yn this isn’t a bf reveal :/

⤷ yn.jpg babe i promise the bf reveal is coming. i have plans for it

⤷ piastrispastry YOU GOT CALLED BABE BY YN YOU WIN AT LIFE

racing.news

liked by ynln.official, pierregasly, landonorris, snd 56,782 others

racing.news sources say yn ln is ‘in trouble’ with mclaren team principal due to her second instagram account where she is notorious for posting funny pictures of her coworkers.

view all 2,347 comments

norrisnation so this is why she’s delaying the bf reveal

ynln.official HELP???? IM NOT IN TROUBLE WHAT 😭

mickshumacher @/ynln.official 😳

⤷ ynln.official mick do not feed into this madness you’re better than that

⤷ sunnyshumacher mick and yn may not be dating but i love their friendship so much LMAO

landonorris im crying this is so funny

⤷ ynln.official of course you’re here

mclaren can’t take her anywhere 🫣

⤷ ynln.official ENOUGH

rizzciardo YN IN THE COMMENTS IS SENDING ME THIS IS SO FUNNY

yn.jpg and yukitsunoda0511

liked by landonorris, yukitsunoda0511, maxverstappen1, pierregasly, fernandoalo_official, and 367,891 others

yn.jpg home is wherever he is. ❤️

view all 5,672 comments

yukitsunoda0511 i love you ❤️

⤷ yn.jpg I LOVE YOU

landonorris the day has finally come 🙏🏻

⤷ yn.jpg stfu

fernandoalo_official 👍

⤷ yn.jpg dad approved. thank you nando

norrisnation ARE WE OFFICIALLY GETTING THE BF REVEAL? IS THIS THE REVEAL? IM GOING INSANE

yukitauri WAR IS OVER

yukitauri MY BABIES IM SO HAPPY RIGHT NOW

yukitauri ALSO MY PARENTS ‼️ MY PARENTS ONLY BC YALL ARE HATERS

yukitauri THROWING UP RIPPING MY HAIR OUT YN IT IS A DAMN TUESDAY YOU CANT DO THIS TO ME RIGHT NOW

rizzciardo i expect an increase in content of them. i need it

formulatsunoda ykw i’ll be so honest i did NOT expect it to be yuki but im not mad 🤭

yn.jpg

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, logansargeant, alex_albon, yukitsunoda0511 and 354,672 others

yn.jpg back to our regularly scheduled program 😼

view all 3,465 comments

yn.jpg i am @/fernandoalo_official btw and he is @/ynln.official. he’s just a silly teenage-ish girl

⤷ dreamyalbon YN PLEASE WHAT 😭

⤷ fernandolandoland okay but her relationship with fernando is so wholesome she rlly is his grid child

alex_albon nurse, she’s out again

⤷ yn.jpg 🤺

maxfewtrell this account is my roman empire

⤷ oscarpiastri same mate

maxsupermax we are so back

yukitauri idk about yall but i won’t be moving on from the bf reveal that is my home

yn.jpg @/schecoperez not commenting = hater 😿

thank you for reading! all feedback is appreciated — dae <3

GENERAL TAGLIST | @renarots @jsjcue @treehouse-mouse @lovstappen @illicitverstappen @minkyungseokie @arkhammaid @vroomvroomverstappen @vellicora @stopeatread @topguncultleader @cixrosie @leclercvsx @motorsp0rt @piasstrisblog @lokietro @spidersophie

JPG TAGLIST | @dl-yum @youdontknowmeshh @lighttsoutlewis @kodzuvk @sofs16 @raevyng @p4st3lst4rs @1655clean @judespoision @evans-dejong @leireggsworld @landosgirlxoxo @3joracha @lanando4 @toasttt11 @gaslysainz @sadg3 @scenesofobx @leilanixx @zaynzierulez @flippingmyshit @goldenharrysworld @celesteblack08 @thatoneembarrasingmoment @willowpains @coolio2195 @bey0ndne0 @sheslikeacurse @sadg3 @biitch-with-wifi @torchbearerkyle @plutotcles @cherry-piee (more tags in comments + some would allow me to tag 💔)

2K notes · View notes

sungbeam · 1 year ago

Text

𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

nonidol!kang yeosang x f!reader

yeosang doesn't remember your name, but he remembers what kissing you tastes like and how you like your eggs in the morning. just your regular prince charming trying to find his cinderella, or in this case, his passenger princess..?

9.5k (lord.....), nc-17, s2l, frateez au, college au, mentions of alcohol, swearing, kissing, humor, fluff, minimal angst, another cinderella story au/trope(?), drama (i bring i bring all the drama-ma-ma-ma), a girl who is not a girl's girl :l, the barest of proofreading

a/n: this is for the @atzhouse you can't outrage us event! guys if the flirting is lackluster, it's cuz im running out of rizz

“I don't believe you.”

The last place you expected to end up was in the front seat of some guy's white Lexus while the party raged on inside the ATZ fraternity house just down the street. According to him, he had to run out just before the crowd rolled in, and when he got back, somebody had snatched his parking spot.

“Okay, but why don't you believe me?”

The car smelled not like fresh leather, but an enchanting mixture of something like pine and smoked wood. Bitter, yet somehow, refreshing. You bet, even as the alcohol was hitting you, that it was what he smelled like.

His name was Yeosang—the guy sitting next to you in the driver's seat, the owner of this car, and the ATZ fraternity brother you bumped into at his house's own party. That had been just about twenty minutes ago when you'd ended up isolated from your pack of friends, and Yeosang had needed a desperate breather. It seemed he'd been running from someone (question mark), so you asked if he knew where the kitchen was. Eager to get away from whoever it was, he guided you straight to the kitchen and where the secret stash of flavored sojus were.

An offhand comment about wishing you didn't have to miss this one drama episode dropping tonight led to a longer conversation about the dramas you both enjoyed, which somehow landed you in his passenger seat.

The rest was history. Or—you supposed the rest was now.

“Because,” Yeosang said in a tone that sounded a lot like he was saying 'duh’, “you don't look like a biology major.”

He was gorgeous, even if the lighting in the party and out here was jack shit. The way the shadows cut across his face made him look like a faerie torn straight out of one of your old sketchbooks. You were half certain he had pointed ears beneath the cat-eared beanie he wore, but maybe that was just the alcohol doing its thing.

You sputtered out a laugh as he knocked back another gulp of his melon soju. He was more drunk than you were, maybe not by too much because that wouldn't have been fair, but it did take him seven tries to unlock his car seven minutes ago. “What's a bio major s'posed to look like?”

“Mmm…” he hummed, lips pressed together in a line that dug into his cheeks. “Not you.”

It only made you laugh harder. It wasn't even that funny. “That doesn't even make sense!”

“Does it have to make sense?” He squawked. His face shuddered for a moment as if he just experienced a glitch. “I forgot what I was gonna say, but it's the vibe.”

“The vibe,” you parroted in mild amusement. After you swallowed down your next gulp of soju, you gestured to him with the bottle, “Okay, now what about you? Your major, go.”

“I read shit.”

“Who doesn't?”

“Jared, 19,” he replied, dead serious.

Equally serious, you asked with wide eyes, “Really?”

He gave you an emphatic nod back. Really. Now, if you were a little less tipsy, you wouldn't have taken what he said at face value, but tonight was already miles away from your regularly scheduled program.

You pondered on that—the “I read shit,” not the misfortunes of one nineteen year old named Jared. “So if you read a lot of shit, does that make you a literature major? No, wait! I got it; you look like Comparative Lit.”

“Bingo,” he cheered, raising his bottle up into the air. “Wait. What do you mean I look like a comparative lit major? What does a comp lit major even look like?”

“I dunno, but it’s you.”

He pursed his lips into a deadpan at your callback to what he'd said before, and you merely stuck your tongue out at him like the mature adult you were. “Touché, my friend. Touché…”

Silence passed between you two for the first time since you met each other. In the distance, you could hear the muffled sounds of the party raging on. It wasn't that you didn't go to parties often; it was more so that you usually went to house parties hosted by friends or friends-of-a-friend. Making it all the way to Greek Row was not something you did every weekend, but a mutual friend—Chungha—knew the ATZ president and got you and your friends in.

Nearly finished with his third bottle (or was it his fourth?...), Yeosang knocked the remainder down his throat with a grimace. With the empty bottle, he set it at his feet on the car floor to join another—the cup holders were already occupied with yours and his second rounds. The first was abandoned on the frat house lawn somewhere.

“I think—” he slurred, blinking slowly at you like a cat, “—that you look like an artist.”

“An artist?” You parroted dumbly and felt warmth rise to your cheeks. “And why would you say that? Vibes?”

“Well, yes!”

You sputtered out a laugh at the way he said that. “Then yes, I am an artist,” you said, emphasizing the latter half of the word so it sounded like “teest” and not “tist.”

Yeosang gave a hoot. “I'm so good at this. Does that—does that mean you can paint me like one of your French girls?” He pulled his lips into an adorable, little smile, the back of his hand poised beneath his chin as he fluttered his lashes.

“I don't think I could do you justice,” you admitted. There was a rather annoying buzz at the back of your brain that was distracting you. With a shake of your head, you refocused your gaze on him. “You're too pretty.”

He preened at the compliment, unconsciously reaching up to adjust his beanie. “Like calls to like then.”

“What does that mean?” Your buzzed-out brain couldn't compute—

“It means that prettiness is attracted to prettiness, and I'm attracted to you.”

You whined, burying your face in your hands. Yeosang giggled to himself, incredibly proud at making you flustered, his knees curling upward to kick his feet in the cramped space. “I don't like you.”

“You don't?”

“No,” you raised your head up with a displeased frown, only to see that his eyes seemed to be twinkling with unrestrained happiness and something else. You weren't in the right state to hyper-analyze the way he looked at you, but it made your heart skip more than just a beat. “It's not fair that you're a literature major.”

��But I'm drunk,” he said innocently.

“That's even worse!”

He grinned boyishly at you, bashfully stretching his limbs and then cupping the back of his neck with a hand. “What if I told you I'm minoring in math?”

You deadpanned. “I don't think that makes me feel any better. You rule both the realms of words and numbers.”

“It doesn't mean I'm good at math,” he guffawed, leaning back in his seat. “It's only there 'cause my mom's a math teacher, and having a math minor makes my parents feel better.”

That sounded familiar… awfully familiar. The thought made you sober a bit, and it seemed your counterpart wasn't so wasted that he didn't notice the shift either.

“Uh oh,” he chuckled nervously, “what'd I say?”

You waved your hand around dismissively. “Oh, it's nothing. I'm kind of the opposite—my bio major is sort of to appease my parents and the fine art minor is for my sanity.”

He pressed his lips into a line, nodding in understanding. “Ah, I see,” he drawled. “So you don't… you're not happy? With what you're doing, I mean.”

Maybe it was the way he asked it, but it made the cogs in your head turn. You bit your lip. “I'm happy-ish. It's kind of a lot, but I'll survive.”

“'m sorry I upset you,” he pouted. “But,” he stammered, swallowing, “but I get it. My parents never wanna talk about my major anymore. Pretty sure they're just bitter and disappointed. I always feel like I’m walking on eggshells around them.”

You could tell that it affected him more than he wanted to admit. You wordlessly passed him your half-drunk bottle, and he gladly took a generous sip. When it was back in your hands, you guzzled down the remainder.

The buzz was getting better.

“Well, if they're not proud of you, I am,” you declared, setting the empty bottle at your feet. Your eyes blinked slowly for a moment as you got your bearings again. Maybe… maybe you should stop drinking! Yes, that would be the smart thing to do.

Yeosang hummed. “Thanks,” he said with a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He gazed over at you from his side of the car. “I'm proud of you, too. You'll be happy one day; it'll always turn out okay, Yn-ie.”

Something warm and fuzzy settled in your chest, like a cat had just curled up there, purring and content.

A thought suddenly popped into your head. “Yeosang, how do you like your eggs?”

He snorted and burst into laughter, coaxing a similar expression out of you. A moment later, you were trying your best to pout at him, “Hey! Don't laugh! I hear it's all the rage on the pick-up line scene.”

“You're trying to pick me up?” He giggled. All memories of the previous topic flew out the car window.

“Well, is it working?”

He licked his lips around a smile, leaning over the center console to rest his cheek against his fist. “Ask me again.”

You took another sip of your soju before returning it to its cupholder. “Okay. Yeosang, how do you like your eggs in the morning?”

“However you'd like them.”

You deadpanned, and that only made him laugh louder. His head tilted back so you caught a glimpse of his canines, before he brought himself back down to Earth. His cheeks looked as flushed as you felt—even in the dim streetlight you could make out the blooms of peony pink across his cheekbones. “Yeo.”

He reached over to pat your head a couple times, though the sloppiness of his movements made it feel closer to two affectionate smacks. “Okay okay. Sorry. How about we say it at the same time?”

“Okay.” That wasn't a bad compromise.

“Okay, one, two, three—”

“Sunny-side up,” you both said at once.

Your eyes and his eyes widened at once, gasps of delight sounding into the quiet car. Could this guy be any more perfect?

“You're not bluffing?” You asked with narrowed eyes.

Yeosang shook his head vigorously. “Mm-mm. I wouldn't lie to you, Yn-ie. Scout's honor,” he slurred, holding his hand up as if he was a boy scout.

You giggled at the gesture, and he broke form to melt into an ooey gooey puddle of liquefied butterflies. For a moment, he just stared at you with a strange look on his face, one that you couldn't quite place when you were in this inebriated state.

You chuckled, shifting your position when one leg started falling asleep. “What’s wr—?”

He leaned forward and—oh. Oh. Those were—his lips were on yours. He had leaned over the console and kissed you. He was kissing you.

And when you didn't kiss him back, he drew backwards, an embarrassed expression painted over the adorable flush on his cheeks. “That—I shouldn't have done that, should I? I'm sorry; I dunno what I was—”

You crushed your mouth against his this time, effectively stealing the apology right off his tongue. He tasted like melon soju, and his touch was gentle as he brought his hand up to cup the side of your face, cradle your jaw. He was tracing the outline of your features in the dark like he could sketch them in the lines in his mind.

He tasted like the color of amber, warm and bright, but not blindingly so. He was mellow and sweet, with the undertones of the burnt wood in his cologne.

You melded your lips against his mouth like you could engrave him into you, and you were practically half over the middle console already. Yeosang's free hand fumbled backward to find the button on the side of his chair—there. The chair began moving backward with a monotonous brrr sound, and as it moved you couldn't quite keep your lips physically attached to his.

You disconnected from him for what felt like an eternity in order to climb over—shoes knocking against empty soju bottles, ass nearly bumping the horn—and with some clumsy, awkward maneuvering, you were on him again, this time quite literally. You tumbled into his lap, his hands landing on either side of your waist and your hands bracing against the back of his chair.

He loosened a soft groan with the return of your lips to his, and he hauled you down closer to him, until your chests were pressed flush against one another and you couldn't tell which heartbeat was who's. His beanie fell off at some point, but your fingers buried themselves within the dark, silken mass of his hair, a hat in their own right.

When you both pulled away for breath, your chests heaved in tandem to catch it. You settled your cheek against his shoulder while you inhaled the smell of his cologne, much stronger now that you sat against his chest with your nose by his throat. His hand warmed the small of your back with the other cupping the back of your head in an affectionate cradle.

“I don't think I've ever kissed someone like that,” you admitted into the quiet. You suddenly couldn't hear the muffled music blasting from the party in the background anymore.

“Me neither,” he replied, voice hoarse from the kiss. “I've never met someone like you before.”

“Never in your life?”

“Never in my life.”

“So let me get this straight,” drawled Wooyoung with both hands poised at his temples, eyes screwed shut against the bright morning light coming in through the window. There were currently eight people crowded onto President Hongjoong's bed at a time that was far too early to be alive for a group of people who partied until four in the morning. “You're saying that you know this girl's family life, how she likes her eggs in the morning, and how she kisses—but you don't even know her name?”

Yeosang was propped up against the headboard, squeezed between a very unfairly serene-looking Seonghwa and a mildly hungover Hongjoong. Yeosang's bangs were flat against his forehead and he squinted his tired eyes through the strands. “No, that's not what I said. I said that I know her name… it's just not coming to me right now.”

He knew your name. Right? You told him your name, right? He addressed you by your name at least once last night, right?

(If he was being honest, as soon as Yeosang woke up this morning, he started whimsically recalling the events of last night in his head. But once he realized he neither had your number nor remembered your name, he jostled his friends up to invade the president's room for an emergency round table discussion. Who would have guessed their alarm clock would be a very panicked Maltese screaming, “I DON'T REMEMBER HER NAME!”)

“Which pretty much means you don't know her name,” Jongho piped up where he was laying against Yunho's back on the corner of the bed, his eyes closed while he attempted to squeeze in five more milliseconds of sleep.

“Well, do you know who she came with?” San asked. “She probably has at least one mutual friend or else she wouldn't have gotten in.”

Mingi furrowed his brows together. “Not necessarily. The pledges might not have been thorough when checking.”

Hongjoong's eyes narrowed. “You were supposed to be there with them at the door, Mingi.”

“Oh, was I?”

Yunho cut in before Hongjoong could tackle Mingi off the bed. He grinned to himself, “Okay, but San has a point. Usually people are only able to sneak in if they're with a group.”

“Awh,” Wooyoung cooed, reaching over to pinch at Yeosang's cheek, “Yeosangie fell in love with a stowaway—ow! Hey! He just bit me!”

“Deserved,” Seonghwa said plainly. He turned his head so as to not have to face Wooyoung's wounded puppy eyes. It was too early for this. “Do you know if she came with anyone, Yeosang-ah?”

Yeosang scrunched his nose up, disgruntled. “No. I'm pretty sure she was looking for her friends when we met… something like that. I remember some things, but not everything.” He pinched the place between his brows in an attempt to piece together his memory of last night. He could remember the way you made him feel—it was the jittery warmth that came with falling, and his heart had never grown wings before like it had around you.

After the kiss, the two of you had sunk into a comfortable, quiet conversation about anything and everything beneath the sun. For the first time in a long time, he felt comfortable and heard by someone other than his fraternity brothers. You were perfect, for lack of a better word. And he knew a lot of words.

But how could he fucking forget your name?

He was never drinking that much melon soju ever again.

“She's a biology major,” he offered with a defeated sigh, letting his hand fall into his lap.

“What does she look like?” Hongjoong asked.

Yeosang's gaze went up to the ceiling as he recalled what you looked like to his friends. It was pretty dark the entire time he was with you, but there were a few moments when the streetlights hit your face and his conscience was constantly trying to keep his drunk ass from kissing you within the first ten minutes of meeting you. He'd managed to hold it together for a little bit longer before throwing all caution to the wind.

When he was done, San said in light amusement, “I'm just surprised you kissed her first. She must be something then, huh?”

Yeosang couldn't conceal the smile that slowly crept onto his face. “Yeah, she's…” He cleared his throat. “I just don't want last night to be the first and last time I see her.” It couldn't be—just when he thought he clicked with someone, the universe couldn't possibly be so cruel as to rip you away from him, could it?

“Don't you worry!” Mingi chirped, “We'll help you find your passenger princess.”

Seonghwa snorted. “Passenger princess? What is this, Cinderella?”

“It might as well be,” San chuckled, lifting his shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Operation: Passenger Princess is a go!”

Yeosang wasn't sure if recruiting his friends’ help was a good or awful decision. But because his past, drunk self hadn't done many favors for his future, sober self, he would take all the help he could get.

You knew the moment you stumbled out of your bedroom and saw your roommate that you were in trouble. It wasn't trouble in the conventional sense; considering her eyes were laughing as she watched your pitiful walk of shame from your room to the shared bathroom, you knew you were not going to hear the end of everything that happened last night ever.

“Not a word,” you said to her as you winced at the blinding bathroom lights.

Her toothbrush hung out of her mouth as she slipped in behind you to spit her toothpaste into the sink. When her mouth was rinsed and clear, she made eye contact with you in the mirror, eyebrows wagging up and down. “So you and Yeosang, huh?”

You glared at her from around your own toothbrush. You would have taken the damn thing out to defend yourself, but you were already late.

Reina took full advantage of your occupied vocal chords. “I never knew pretty frat boys were your type, Yn,” she teased, practically floating out of the bathroom to go check on the state of her espresso in the kitchen.

“Aye hae yuu,” you grumbled around your toothbrush.

“What's that?” She cackled, bringing a hand up to the shell of her ear. “I love you? I love you, too, Yn. But you know who else loves you?—”

“Dompt shae it.”

“Yeosaaaang!”

You loathed the fact that her saying such things made butterflies flap their wings and dance around in your belly. It was simply delusional to think of love when all you and Yeosang did last night was make out in his car and accompany each other in deep, provoking conversation… conversation that definitely didn't make you feel incredibly seen or anything… definitely not.

Finally, you were able to spit your toothpaste out to make your argument. “Okay, first of all, I don't even have his number. And—how could he love me?” As if possession of a phone number could even correlate to love either.

Reina paused, her expression arranging into loud incredulity. “You what? After all I went through to separate the two of you to go home, you didn't exchange numbers?”

Okay, so maybe you shouldn't have disclosed that information—now you just looked stupid.

You lathered up facial cleanser in your hands and on your face. “Look. Exchanging numbers was just the last thing on our minds—” Oh, Yn. Have you ever said something smart?

Reina snorted. “Oh, I know.”

“We didn't just make out,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming beneath your hands. You furiously splashed cool water over your skin before patting your face dry. There likely wasn't much time left before you and Reina had to run to meet your other friends at your weekly volunteering session. “We talked.”

“Uh-huh, and you know that denial is a river in Egypt, right?”

Suffice to say that Reina most definitely did not let your shenanigans from last night go. The two of you managed to reach the food bank sometime before fifteen minutes past your original start time. Everyone else was already stationed and on time, and because you and Reina were the last to arrive, you were sent straight to dishwashing.

As you and Reina pulled on your twin pairs of pink rubber gloves, your friend Mark Lee (and brother with the NCT fraternity) barrelled into the backroom with a dirty ladle in his hands. His head perked up at the sight of you both, a smile blooming on his face. “Well, good morning, Party Animals. How was the ATZ party last night?”

He deposited the ladle into the sink for you to wash while he went to go find a clean one.

“It was cool, but I think Yn would love to tell you all about her experience,” Reina teased, bumping her elbow against your side.

Mark sidled up beside the two of you and leaned in close in proper tea-spilling fashion. “Oh my gosh, did something happen?”

You scowled at Reina, then said to Mark, “Nothing catastrophic—”

“She hooked up with Yeosang!”

You cut her a hard glance. “Reina, I don't think Neptune heard you.”

Mark's eyes went comically wide, jaw slackening. “Yn and Yeosang? That's so wild. Like—like Kang Yeosang?”

“I think? We didn't exactly exchange last names, but why would it be wild? We just kissed and talked.”

“Who kissed who now?” The new voice had you all glancing back over to the kitchen door where another member of the group, Yura, walked in. Yura was Reina's cousin, and the two grew up quite close, so it was natural that they ended up in similar social circles. You and all your other friends got along pleasantly with her. She flashed you all a small smile. “From the sounds of it, I'm guessing you guys had a fun time at the party last night?”

“We did!” Reina chirped.

“Shame you couldn't come with us this time,” you said offhandedly. It wasn't like Yura to miss a party.

Reina cocked her head to the side. “I could've sworn I saw you there though—”

“Ah,” Yura waved her hand to dismiss her cousin's thought. She chuckled, “You're probably mistaking someone else as me; I had that paper I needed to work on last night, remember? But Yn, you and Yeosang?”

You groaned. “I thought we were over this.”

“Dude, we can't not get over this,” Mark quipped back. “Yeosang just doesn't do stuff like that—hook up with people, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Yura chimed in, “I've seen him at a couple other Greek parties with some of my sorority friends and he looks pretty standoffish most of the time. He's usually always with one of his brothers. He's kind of cold, really.”

Mark furrowed his brows. “I wouldn't call him cold; he's just a little shy, is all.”

“My friends told me that a lot of sorority girls chase after him,” Yura said with wide eyes. “They get, like, aggressive about him or something.”

You and Reina exchanged a look. Was that who he was running from last night? “That must be kinda stressful,” you said softly with a small frown.

“Apparently, that's why his social medias don't take DMs unless approved,” she shrugged.

Well, there went your backup plan of finding him on social media. Then again, if he recognized you or your name, would that help if you requested him? That was if you deigned to change your profile picture to yourself and not one of your silly doodles.

You couldn't help the weight that your heart seemed to gain as it sank to the pit of your stomach.

“Well, that's mildly disappointing,” Reina muttered, turning to quickly wash the ladle Mark had just dropped off.

“I just wouldn't want you to get targeted by any of those crazy sorority girls, y'know?” Yura gave a laugh that sounded almost nervous. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear before snapping on a fresh pair of gloves.

You nodded, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Yeah, no, I—I get it. Thanks, Yura.”

She gave you a sympathetic look. “Of course,” she said. With a wave, she made her way back toward the kitchen door. “Mark, we better get back to work. See you guys at lunch break!”

When she was gone, Mark clapped a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “Hey, listen. I don't really know the guy personally, but me and Wooyoung are pretty tight. I can get in touch with them if you want—”

Baekhyun, the section leader for your session, charged into the kitchen with his arm piled high with dirty dishes. If you didn’t fear for the safety of the porcelain bowl at the top of the stack, you might have chuckled at the scene before you. “Mark! We don't pay you to stand around.”

“Hyung,” Mark huffed exasperatedly as he rushed over to help Baekhyun before the section leader could get knocked over the head by a rogue dish assisted by gravity. “You don't pay us. We're here out of the goodness of our hearts.”

“Well, I don't get paid enough for this,” Baekhyun said once all the dishes were transferred to the sink, and you and Reina were put to work. “Now come on; lots to do!”

Just as Mark was about to follow after Baekhyun, he caught your eyes. “I'm serious about the offer, Yn.”

You smiled. “Thanks, man, but let me think about it and I'll get back to you.”

“Yeah, just lemme know!” And he was gone.

Word broke out that someone in the ATZ household was searching for a girl. Word of mouth was a method of dissemination that could spread like wildfire, leaping from one tongue to one ear to another, leaving only ash and debris behind. And around Greek Row, it became a massive game of Telephone.

But while nearly everyone in the university's fraternities and sororities knew about his strife, Yeosang’s efforts seemed to be for naught. The only thing that emerged from this were more people harping after him, claiming to be 'the one he was looking for.’ None of them were you.

Your name had manifested itself in his head about halfway into the week. He'd been toiling over the theory readings his professor assigned for Thursday's lecture when he'd underlined a word, and it came crashing down upon him with ice cold clarity.

His eyes went wide as he shot up out of his chair, nearly sending Jongho careening off his bed on the other side of the room. “What the—”

“Yn,” Yeosang said. Then he declared a little louder, a giddy smile on his face, triumphant and bright, “Her name is Yn.”

Jongho resettled himself on top of his bed. “Well that narrows things down for us,” he drawled, taking his phone out and typing something out. “I don't suppose you have her last name.”

Yeosang fwumped onto the edge of his bed with his lips pressed into a line. “Dude. I literally just thought of her first name. Do you really think I can come up with—”

“Okay, okay,” Jongho laughed, flicking his wrist at him for a moment before resuming his typing.

“Who're you texting?” Yeosang asked as curiosity drew him across the room to Jongho's side.

His friend sat up so he could peer over his shoulder at the phone screen. “I'm doing the heavy lifting,” he teased. Based on the social media handle at the top of the direct messages channel, Jongho was texting Chungha, a friend of the frat's but a closer friend of President Hongjoong's, and the recently graduated head of the Phi Omega Phi sorority. “Hongjoong hyung mentioned offhandedly that Chungha wanted to get some friends into the party on Friday, so I'm seeing if she recognizes this Yn person you're looking for.”

Yeosang’s eyebrows flicked upward as he settled into a more comfortable position on Jongho’s bed while they awaited Chungha’s response. In the meantime, he pulled out his own phone in an attempt to search for your name amongst his mutuals. He frowned at the lack of a successful search—did you use a different name or did you not have a social media account? Was that why you hadn’t attempted to contact him in the past few days?

For a moment, a shard of self-consciousness pierced through his chest at the prospect that you didn’t want to contact him. Did sobriety make you embarrassed at what happened that night? Had he made you uncomfortable with the amount of vulnerability that was in the car—no, the vulnerability was mutual… but maybe—

“Gotcha.”

Yeosang’s head whipped back over to Jongho’s screen. Having your name and major seemed to ring a bell for Chungha, and she forwarded a social media handle, along with a “tell Yeosang good luck ;)”.

“Thank you, Jongho. And bless up, Chungha,” Yeosang muttered as he swiftly input the social media handle into his search bar. There it was—a private art account with your first name in the biography line. There were only one or two people who you both shared mutuals with, which made sense.

His thumb hovered over the request button, and he bit his lip. With little else left to do and his heart banging around in his ribs from the anticipation alone, he clicked the button.

It didn’t take you incredibly long to accept his follow request and to follow him back. (Though, half an hour felt like an eternity when he was so anxious.) He made it painfully obvious that you acted in response, because Yeosang fumbled his phone between his palms like it was a hot potato, before he dropped it and stubbed his toe with it.

Jongho sent him a strange look as he handed the device back to a red-faced Yeosang, who furrowed his brows together to think of an opening direct message to you.

“It doesn't have to be perfect,” Jongho said as he peered over Yeosang's shoulder this time. He had even paused the game he was playing on his phone to stay tuned into the live entertainment.

Yeosang made a face. “Yes, it does.” It had to be the perfect mix of witty and funny and subtle and—

He figured it out.

@/yskang99: how do u like ur eggs?

Jongho released a sound of utter flabbergast, and Yeosang shushed him, both pairs of eyes pinned to the three dots that appeared on the bottom left-hand side of the screen.

@/studioyn: sunny side up

Yeosang broke into a smile, and Jongho's face contorted into pure incredulity. “What kind of security question is that?”

“Inside joke,” Yeosang replied giddily, rising from Jongho's bed to cross over to his side of the room. He collapsed into his desk chair and propped his feet up along the end of his bed.

Jongho scoffed, shifting his lounging position. He threw his friend another incredulous glance before giving up and returning to his game. He'd done his job.

@/yskang99: congrats u passed the test!

@/studioyn: ahh so that was a test? i imagined us doing a virtual handshake tbh

@/yskang99: i like that better actually

@/studioyn: also how did u find me lmao

Yeosang bit his lip through a grin. I have my ways, he typed out cryptically, cheekily.

@/studioyn: wtvr u say ig… 🤨🤨🤨

For a brief moment, Yeosang wondered if he should bring up the concern lingering in his mind—why you hadn't reached out to him. He didn't want to simply assume that he was “popular” enough that just anybody knew who he was, but he was also aware that most people were able to track him down on social media. But would that kill the vibe? He liked the energy.

@/studioyn: i can't get a read on whether or not ur any different than how u were drunk

@/yskang99: would that matter?

@/studioyn: not particularly, no, but i've met people who r

@/yskang99: no i get that, i've met my fair share too :/

He began typing out slowly: I missed you… Then he swiftly amended it to: I missed talking to you.

@/studioyn: awhh wait ik we've only technically spoken the one time, but i missed talking to u too yeo :’)

A smile split his face from ear to ear. Would you wanna hang out again? Only if you're comfortable, of course.

He watched the three dots appear, then disappear. You were thinking and his heart was sinking.

Finally, your response came in. I'd love to, but I don't wanna disappoint you with my god awful schedule this next week.

@/yskang99: what abt the weekend? something low stakes maybe?

@/yskang99: my brothers and i r going to the nct house on sat

@/studioyn: oh!! im actually close friends w mark lee :] i'll see if i can drag my friends along, and we can link up there?

The thought of seeing you again, even if it was at another dumb Greek party, made electricity zip through his veins. His stomach filled to the brim with butterflies, and he had to shift his position because of how much it tickled.

@/yskang99: yeah sounds great :D i'll look forward to seeing u

@/studioyn: same here yeo :’))

@/studioyn: how's ur week been so far?

Yeosang leaned back in his chair again, propping his elbows on the armrests to sink into a comfortable position. He had a feeling he might be here awhile, but he would sit here all night if it meant talking to you.

“Yn! We're gonna be late!”

You nearly jolted at the sound of Reina's voice carrying through the other side of your bedroom door. You dropped your phone onto your bed, racing to finish up the rest of your makeup. “You can never be late to a Greek party!” You countered, swiping your thumb over the pigment you just put on your lips.

Your bedroom door opened just as you were slipping a chain necklace around your collar. Reina poked her head in, her eyes looking you up and down. “Ooh-la-la,” she gushed with a teasing smile. “Someone's gotten all dolled up. I wonder who for…”

You rolled your eyes and ignored the obvious warmth rising to your face. “I just felt like it,” you defended weakly while spritzing a light mist of perfume over your neck and wrists. You stood up from your desk to collect your wallet, keys, and lip gloss to dump into a purse, then went over to retrieve your phone.

The screen displayed another message from Yeosang, no doubt continuing the conversation you had to abruptly pause because you would be late for the NCT party. This was going to be the second Greek party in two weeks—a record for your books. But you had a feeling it was going to be a good time like last week, you were sure of it.

As you skimmed the message Yeosang sent, you slipped out of the room to join Reina in the main living space. She casted you a pointed look with arms crossed over her chest and lips pressed together.

“What?” You blinked over at her innocently.

“You're never gonna see your boy at this rate,” she said as the two of you picked out your shoes for the night.

You sent a text answering Yeosang and letting him know you would be at the party soon. “He's not 'my boy,’” you said.

“Right. He's your man.”

You hated how hard it was to keep the giggle in your throat down. It was embarrassing how you smiled just then, too, turning your head away from a smug Reina.

God, he was just a guy; how did you get so head-over-heels after just one night? It had to be the fact that you'd been texting him nonstop over the past few days. Though you were busy and exhausted, you continued to check your phone all throughout the days and stayed up long into the nights just to talk to him. He had you hook, line, and sinker.

At some point, you'd forgotten what Yura warned you about on Saturday.

Your friends picked you and Reina up in one of their family minivans. A round of greetings went up as you clambered in behind Reina, and your friend asked where her cousin was tonight if she wasn't carpooling with the rest of you.

“She said she was at her sorority friend's house,” Sieun said offhandedly from the driver's seat. The minivan door closed on its own with a mechanical whirring sound. “She's probably at the party already.”

Some nights, parties called for a pregame session, while others (not unlike this one) was attacked raw. Sieun parked the minivan about a block outside of Greek row where there were spaces between cars along the curbs and where there was less of a chance of her accidentally running over a drunk partygoer stumbling into the street. The party was already in full swing with neon green strobe lights blazing aggressively through the front windows, and Gasolina blasting at nothing less than one hundred percent speaker volume.

You felt your phone vibrate in your hand as Reina grabbed your hand to avoid instantly losing you in the crowd.

@/yskang99: im on the second floor where there's less people 😋😋 they've got a nice balcony we can hide on!!

“Mark said they've got spiked Capri Sun somewhere in here!” Reina shouted into your ear.

You nodded your head vigorously. “Let's find it then!”

@/studioyn: gonna grab hard caprisun and then head up!! do u want some??

@/yskang99: surprise me w a flavor, pretty pls x

You grinned to yourself and slid your phone into your purse to focus on the task at hand.

The NCT fraternity house wasn't a completely unknown landscape to you and Reina. Being friends with one of its brothers and friends-by-association with all the rest, you'd popped by more than a few times. You could likely navigate this house with your eyes closed; that was what it was like weaving through the dark rooms and throngs of people squeezed together like sardines in a can, anyway.

Along yours and Reina's trek to the kitchen, you gained a couple people in your conga line of linked hands, NCT's own Xiaojun and Jungwoo. NCT frat brothers always pregamed, so the two brothers were already tipsy and giggled about your kindergarten field trip line (with Reina being dubbed the poor kindergarten teacher tasked with keeping you together).

When you arrived at your destination, it didn't take long for you to lose both Xiaojun and Jungwoo to the game of Texas Hold 'Em being played at the breakfast table. The singular lightbulb overheard made it feel like a smoke-filled backdoor gambling den.

“Aha!” You cheered after playing a game of mystery cooler roulette, and opened the cooler lid that held the spiked Capri Sun juice pouches on ice.

“Mine!” Reina snatched up the last cherry flavored one, the shiny aluminum slippery and ice-cold as she impaled the opening with the thin, yellow straw.

You grabbed a Pacific Cooler flavored pouch for yourself, and a second for Yeosang.

“Ah, is that for the man of your dreams?” Reina said between sips, her pouch already half empty.

You sent her a look. “He has good taste, which means he'll probably appreciate Pacific Cooler as much as I do.”

“As long as it's not lemonade,” came a voice to your left. There stood a rather tall and lean man, his warm smile enunciated by the dim kitchen lighting as the green strobe lights from the living room painted across his face. “I can't deal with sour shit,” he explained, making a face.

You laughed. “That's valid. Fruit Punch is a classic though.”

“Can't argue with that,” he replied, leaning down to pick his poison for the night. He stabbed a straw into his pouch of strawberry kiwi juice, then arched an eyebrow at you. “I feel like I know you. Do I know you?”

“Hey,” Reina chimed in as she leaned over your shoulder, “you're with the ATZ frat, aren't you? I recognize you from Twister last week.”

He smiled sheepishly from around his straw. “Ah… haha, not my best moment, but yes. I'm Yunho.”

“Reina,” your friend replied.

“Yn,” you added on.

Yunho's expression jerked as if he'd just been delivered an electric shock. He waved his pointer finger at you. “Oh my god, you're Yeosang's girl!”

Your eyes shuddered in surprise. Yeosang's girl. “Sorry?” You stammered. There was an insane amount of possessive pronouns being used tonight, buy you definitely weren't complaining about it, and could he perhaps say that again—

“Yeah, he won't shut up about you.” Yunho slurped up the rest of his juice pouch, draining and flattening the life out of it in record time. “He loves Pacific Cooler, by the way.”

He took his leave then, saying nothing else to you and Reina except for shooting you a pair of finger guns like saying 'go get em, tiger!’

Reina wheezed, draping herself over you for a moment. “Oh—my god! Good thing Yeosang's just as down in the trenches as you are.”

“Don't do this to me, Reina,” you whined and dragged her along out of the kitchen toward the second floor staircase. “I don't need encouragement; the crush is enough!”

“It's never enough,” she declared with her pointer finger up in the sky. “You are gone, my friend! Gone, I say.”

You patted her head as you both began your ascent up the stairs. “Alrighty; then gone, I am. Do you remember where the balcony is on this floor?”

She hummed. “Ooh! Somewhere by Johnjae's room, abouts. I just remember because Mark told us how—”

“Right—the sophomore year Romeo and Juliet reenactment,” you snorted. You couldn't wrap your head around the batshit crazy things that occurred around these parts. “Who convinced Doyoung to play Paris anyway?”

She made a noncommittal noise. “Must've been bribed—oh, there it is, but I think there's a couple out there already…”

There was most definitely a couple on the balcony. Their outlines were silhouettes against the residual strobe lights shining up from downstairs, so it was a little too dark to make out who they were. They seemed close—the girl was all over the boy, the latter trying to hold her up by her waist. Maybe she'd had too much to drink, and for a moment, you were glad someone was taking care of her.

But when she leaned in for a kiss, green light glanced across their faces to reveal their features to you. It was only a split second, but it was all you needed.

“Reina,” you exhaled in shock, turning away from the balcony with enough speed to nearly give you whiplash.

She didn't question you, as you both careened back down the hall from where you came from, heading for one of the open bedrooms on this floor to collect yourselves. When the two of you were out of earshot of the balcony, she hissed under her breath in utter disbelief, “Yura?”

You'd seen it nearly clear as day, too. That was Yura kissing Yeosang.

Your head spun as you shouldered your way into Mark's and Haechan's room, their names plastered on the door in foam letter stickers from the craft store. As Reina closed the door and turned on the lights, you sat down in Mark's desk chair attempting to make sense of what you and Reina just witnessed.

Yeosang and Yura? But wasn't Yura the one who warned you that chasing after Yeosang was a risk because of how many others were, as well? Why would…

Oh.

Well, now you just felt stupid.

Reina dragged over Haechan's desk chair to settle in front of you, her expression less enraged than before, and more concerned over what she was reading off of your face. “Hey, don't do that. Don't think like that.”

“You don't know what I'm thinking,” you murmured, setting the untouched juice pouches on the desk.

“You're thinking that you're stupid.”

“Okay, maybe you do know what I'm thinking.” You inhaled, then exhaled slowly, leaning forward onto your knees. “I don't really know what to think or assume.”

Reina nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “That's okay. I don't think I really understand what I saw either.”

“But that was Yura, right?”

She bobbed her head again. “That was my cousin, yeah.”

“Would it be fair to even think that she told me all that shit last week to discourage me from seeing him?” You didn't enjoy thinking that another person would have such malicious intentions without understanding their point of view, especially someone you considered yourself friends with.

“Well,” Reina drawled, “I think we both saw what we saw, and Yura was acting strangely about it on Saturday. It would be fair if you were hurt by it; I think your feelings have been clear.”

You gave a small nod. “Do you think he…?”

“I'm not sure, hon.”

You resolved to talk to him about it. If anything, you had these juice pouches left to console yourself, but you wanted to make sure you knew where his feelings laid. You would be lying if you said your heart didn't harbor even a glimmer of hope that this was all a misunderstanding, and that the kiss was an accident and didn't matter.

You and Reina left the relative safety of Mark and Haechan's bedroom to go find Yeosang. There weren't any new messages between either of you since the Capri Sun exchange, and you thought about texting him on his whereabouts.

The balcony by Johnny and Jaehyun's room was empty now, barren of any evidence somebody was there in the first place.

You and Reina wandered back down to the main floor. The party was nowhere near over; the night was still young. Hope was sinking fast in your stomach as the two of you traveled from room to room in search of him, but with no luck. Even asking around was useless.

“Text him,” Reina encouraged, as the two of you sipped on the juice pouches that were supposed to be for you and him.

She held your spiked juice while you texted him.

As time passed, and a response had yet to come through, you tossed yours and Reina's flattened Capri Sun pouches into the nearest garbage can.

If he wasn't going to answer, then maybe you would just go home for the night. You had a lot to think about.

Defeated, you let Reina sweep you under her arm and guide you to the front door. “Let's go home, hm?” She said, rubbing your shoulder.

On your way to the front door, you paused. You thought you heard someone calling your name—

You turned around to find Mark barreling toward you through the crowd with another guy at his side. “Mark?” You shouted over the music.

“Hey, we've been looking all over for you,” he said. Nodding to his friend, he told you, “This is Wooyoung, by the way, the ATZ brother I'm friends with.”

“Yeosang's been looking for you,” Wooyoung said in earnest, eyes as wide as Mark's. Had they been looking for you as much as you were looking for Yeosang?

Something like hope sparked in your chest again—you were at odds. The fight had nearly dissipated from your blood and you were ready to go home. But if he was trying to find you… it must be worth it then, right?

“Where is he?” You asked.

It was nearing midnight by the time you settled yourself on the concrete curb outside the ATZ frat house just down the block from the target being thrown at the NCT house. With everyone over there, no wonder it was quiet enough to finally hear yourself think. With the coming of deep autumn, a slight breeze wafted by that drifted over your skin and raised goosebumps on your arms.

You heard gravel crunching from behind you, coming down the ATZ driveway, and before you could turn your head to look, a warm jacket was placed over your shoulders. You held your breath, fingers finding the lapel to keep it from slipping as you glanced over at your counterpart.

Yeosang lowered himself onto the curb next to you, mimicking your position with his knees bent and arms resting upon them. “I—my phone died,” he said lowly.

“Oh.” That took care of at least two of your questions.

“Is there—” He stopped himself, amending his statement, “There's something on your mind.”

Understatement of the century. You pulled his jacket around you, the intertwining scents of alcohol and his cologne lingering on the collar. “I was going to meet you at the balcony, and I was there, but… but I saw you and Yura, and…”

It was his turn to say “oh.” He angled his body toward you now until his knees bumped against yours and he was muttering out an apology he didn't need to say. He laid his upper body over his arms that were folded onto his knees and peered up at you through lengthy lashes.

He was waiting for you to finish.

You swallowed, following his lead and turning your body toward him. “I saw her kiss you,” you said, the sound barely audible to anybody but you and him. “Reina and I went somewhere to kind of just soak in what we saw, and then we went back out to find you so I could talk to you about it, but we couldn't find you.”

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” he murmured, eyebrows furrowed together. “It—it didn't mean anything. She did try to kiss me, but I pushed her away before she could.”

You believed him. You loosened a small chuckle from your lips. “Y'know, it sounds silly to me now, but last week she told me that there were a number of girls who were pursing you and were very aggressive about it.”

He snorted. “If there were any, I only know of one.”

“She…?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, lips pursing. “I know she's liked me for a while, but I've made it clear I don't see her the same way. At last Friday's party, I was actually trying to lose her in the crowd when I found you.”

Your eyes widened. “So she was there?” Then Reina had actually seen her cousin at the party; Yura had lied about where she was.

“She told me tonight that she was scared about me liking you more than her,” Yeosang said as he lifted his body back up to rest his cheek against his fist. “She was really drunk—which was why you probably saw me trying to hold her up—and then she… tried to kiss me. I pushed her away, and one of her friends found us, so I handed her over and went to get some air.”

And that was why you couldn't find him. You released a breath you didn't realize you were holding in. “Are you—are you okay? I'm so sorry she did that to you.”

The corners of his lips tugged upward in a reassuring smile. “I'm alright, thank you. And it's not your fault.”

“I know, but still,” you insisted. “Your boundaries were violated, and it makes me feel so icky that I've called her a friend of mine, and—what?”

Your words came to a screeching halt when you realized that Yeosang was just smiling at you. Or rather, gazing at you, admiring you. It was whatever he did whenever his eyes possessed a set of twin jewels in his irises that needed no light to glitter like gold; and when his grin softened at the corners by a tenderness that knocked the wind out of you, all words and systems failed you.

You recognized this look, except this time, you weren't drunk.

“I'm really happy I met you,” he said in your silence. “And I'm happy I got to see you again.”

You nearly melted. You smiled back at him, replying quietly, “Couldn’t have said it any better. Thank you for being honest with me.”

“And thank you for believing me.” He reached for your hand, his movements slow as if giving you an opening to pull back if you wanted to. But you didn't, and you closed the remaining space to link your fingers and press your palms together.

You and Yeosang shared mutual smiles in the dim lighting outside his fraternity house. Your heart beat had quickened a considerable amount now that he was so close to you again.

You cleared your throat. "Just to be clear though—when you said she was scared about you liking me more than her—?"

His smile reached his eyes and turned them into upturned crescent moons. "I'm not scared," he said, "that I like you more than I have ever liked her." By a landslide.

Your heart gave a lurch in your chest. "Good," you smiled. "That's good, because I like you a whole lot, too."

“Do you wanna get out of here?” Yeosang inclined his chin toward where his car was parked a couple vehicles down. “Properly this time, now that we're not completely wasted?”

You laughed. “I would love nothing more.”

Pleased, he helped you to your feet. You must have stood up far too quickly though, because the blood rushed up to your head in a riptide current. You swore as the vertigo hit you, and your footing stumbled.

“Woah, careful there, pretty,” he murmured, his low voice by your ear as he steadied you with one hand pressed between your shoulder blades and the other around your waist.

Oh, there went your heart… it flew up to halo around Yeosang's head, and it wasn't yours anymore—

“You okay?” He mused.

You cleared your throat, straightening. “Yeah, I'm great,” you said sheepishly, ducking your head toward your chest.

A warm, fond chuckle left his mouth. “Cute,” he murmured. He lifted your chin up so you would look at him, his eyes darting down toward your mouth, and yours mirroring his movements. “I was wondering…”

“You can kiss me,” you blurted out, ignoring the utter leap in your pulse and the heat crawling up the back of your neck.

You tasted his smile as he leaned over to seal his mouth over your own, a long awaited return to the place that felt just right. You breathed him in, inhaled him, devoured him whole—you wrapped your arms around his shoulders to pull him closer just as his hands pressed you flush against him.

In the distance against the heavy house music in the background, a cheer went up into the night sky.

You and Yeosang parted only to crane your heads in the direction of the noise, only to find what looked like a gathering of your friends and his friends hooting and applauding like it was New Years.

“OPERATION: PASSENGER PRINCESS WINS!” The guy from earlier, Wooyoung, practically howled up at the sky.

You pressed your face against Yeosang's shoulder as he groaned. “I am so sorry about them,” he chuckled through a grimace, lips grazing over your crown.

You laughed along with him. “My friends are also among the guilty party, Yeo.”

He kept his arm around your waist and you kept your head against his shoulder as the two of you walked away from your friends and toward his car. Contentment curled itself up over your chest again, and it nestled in deep, as if it planned to stay awhile.

“By the way,” you piped up as he unlocked his car.

“Mhm?”

You opened the passenger side door and leaned over the top of it to ask, “What the hell is Operation: Passenger Princess?”

Yeosang sputtered out a laugh and his cheekbones burned red. “How about we save that for our third date?”

You blinked, lips parting.

Yeosang grinned impishly. “Close that mouth, pretty, or I'll close it for you.”

Your jaw snapped closed, and his laugh echoed against the houses along this street. You climbed into the car after him, flustered beyond words. “I don't like you,” was all you could come up with.

“I'm sure you don't.”

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if you enjoyed! also, the plan is to try and write another wooyo frat au as well, so pray for me...

atz m.list

permanent taglist: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @tinkerbell460 @meosjinn @hyunjaespresent-deobi @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @floatingpluto @gyulfriend @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @soonyoungblr @justanotherkpopstanlol @kangfication @pxppxrminty @fluorescentloves @haechansbbg @jaerisdiction @super-btstrash-posts @jundundun @http-gyu @mvvnsseul @mars101 @synthwxve @empire-x @kflixnet @atzhouse @cromernet

#atzhouse #cromernet #kflixnet #ateez x reader #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang x reader #ateez oneshot #ateez drabbles #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #yeosang fluff #yeosang imagines #yeosang oneshot #yeosang drabbles #yeosang scenarios #rager: you can't out rage us

749 notes · View notes

livfastdieyoung69 · 5 months ago

Note

OH OH YK WHAT I NEED BAD? KO SIBLING X CODY OOOOO I NEED IT I NEEDDDD IT

NEW BEGINNINGS

(Cody Rhodes x Non-described!Owens!Reader, can be read as adopted or not)

Anger issues and complaining runned in the Owen’s family. It was what your family did, most of you on the side, but your brother, he did it for his literal career. Like seriously, Kevin just complained for a living- he got on a microphone and yelled. As jealous as you were, it wasn’t your gimmick unfortunately. The two of you grew up side by side, falling in love with wrestling together, and eventually even growing in the business together. Though you had pretty similar styles, Kevin loved being in the WWE and everything he stood for there, and you loved being in TNA, and all of the accomplishments you’ve made in the company.

Though you were on separate paths, whenever they happened to cross, you’d sit down and have lunch, or dinner, or whatever else you could manage and do what Owens’ did best- complain together.

“How’s working with all of the Bloodline guys, still?” You ask after taking a gulp from your soda. Before you can even finish, he’s rolling his eyes and groaning with a mouthful of cheeseburger.

“Still fucking terrible. There’s more of them! Like an endless amount, they just keep popping up out of nowhere, and the more that come, the crazier they fucking get,” His exasperated sound makes you laugh. “I’m serious!”

You shake your head while he takes another massive bite out of his burger.

“Who’d you just work with? Uh, what’s his name? That woo woo woo guy? Zak Ryder!” You nod, taking a bite of your own food after muttering the ‘You Know It’ part of the catchphrase.

“He’s Matt Cardona now- that’s his actual name. He’s a nice guy…a lot, but nice. Like so much, really, all smiles and enthusiasm all the time. When Chelsea won the title, he brought a replica the next day and everyone thought it was the real one.”

This was how it usually went- catch up through each others feuds and how annoying everyone else was, and eventually the chatter would die down and you’d eat for a little, and then someone would pick up an actual conversation. The only problem here though, was there was one more feud of Kevins you were trying to avoid, but it was kind of hard. He was a massive deal in the company and a massive part of Kevins life right now.

“I know what you’re doing.” Kevin states causally, leaning back in his chair after starting on his fries.

“What?” You try to laugh it off, but you don’t look up from your own plate.

“Cody. You don’t wanna ask me about him.”

“….I just figured you’d want to keep your mind off it with the match at the Royal Rumble coming up.” You try, but he shakes his head. That was still in a couple weeks.

“Dude. I know you’re a fan- you literally still have the shirt from when he did the Dashing thing years ago. You liked Stardust, you know who else liked Stardust? No one.“

“Okay, I get it, you don’t have to publicly shame me about it. You can complain about everyone else, that’s my exception.” The two of you are quick to go back to silence while you try to finish your meal, and he chugs down another soda. The man ate ridiculously fast, nothing could stop him.

“You know,” He broke the quiet again. “You would really like WWE. Paul keeps bugging me about talking to you.”

“So you’ve told me,” You shrug. “I don’t know. TNA’s my home at this point, I can’t imagine leaving.” A laugh rips through you at a sudden thought and he nods his head for you to continue. “Maybe, maybe if you got Cody to ask-“ His eyes close with a sigh, and he immediately starts shaking his head, which only makes you laugh harder.

“Don’t push it.”

That had been about a week ago. You’d both gone back to your regularly scheduled program, him on Fridays and you on Thursdays. His feud with Cody continued, with a whole bunch of shit happening over there, and you moved on to work with other TNA superstars. After another long Thursday night you’re ready to conk out from the very fun, but tiring, on top of the night of wrestling, celebration with Joe Hendry for his new, recent title win (you’d already given your condolences to Nic).

As soon as your head hits the pillow, your phone rings. And you know it’s Kevin because you had set his theme song for his ringtone.

“What’s wrong?” You answer on the first ring. It’s late, and this is unusual, the first thing your mind goes to is that something happened.

“Did you see the news?”

“What fucking news Kevin, you’re freaking me out-“

“WWE and TNA signed a contract, anyone can go anywhere,” He rushes out, your name following it. “Anyone can go anywhere.”

You aren’t even sure what to say, and the phone line goes quiet while you stammer before Kevin interrupts.

“I gave Paul your number- he wants you in the Rumble.”

And now, here you were. This was fucking crazy! Of the entire TNA roster, you, Joe Hendry, and Jordynne Grace had been picked to join the Royal Rumble. Everything was so different here, you could see why Kevin liked it. Everything reminded you of him, and to be able to see him this much was so great. You traveled together, for the first time since your teenage years, and with all of the excitement you felt that young again too.

The Guerrilla was packed. It was great to see people you had worked with in the past, like Naomi and AJ Styles, but it was also great to meet new faces. Maxxine Dupri was the nicest person you had ever met, and so pretty. And you finally got to meet Chelsea! She wanted to keep in touch in case Matt tried to take her actual belt next time, apparently she hadn’t known he bought the replica.

Right now, the women’s rumble was seconds from kicking everything off so it was mostly women in the area, but a couple guys were wandering around too. Joe Hendry had stayed near you, which both of you were thankful for, he was actually a pretty shy guy behind cameras and you hated being alone around so many people. Jordynne and Naomi were a lot more acquainted than you were with her, so they snuck off to the side to have a chat.

The match was quick to begin with Iyo Sky and Liv Morgan before others started to quickly fill in. Your number was later on, you’d gotten 22. You didn’t want to be so late, and had tried to fight Paul about it but he was adamant the crowd would be excited, plus you had enough spots behind you to stay in for a while. The crowd started to wear out in Geurilla, and eventually you found yourself in the small room everything led to, with about ten other entrants, Maxxine had just went through the curtain at number 14.

“So,” Kevin strolls up from behind you with a bowl of something from catering. “I don’t want to hear a single word of this. But I called in a favor.” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to him, and he holds up a hand. “Not a word.” And then he walks out. What the fuck?

You don’t have time to think about that anyways, now you’re wishing Jordynne (number 19) good luck as the buzzer rushes. After her, is the great return of Alexa Bliss, who is granted the biggest pop so far, which Zelina Vega follows, and then all that’s left in front of you is the grey curtain covering the biggest opportunity you’ve received in your life.

That was both the longest and shortest minute and a half of your entire life, but when the crowd counts down, and the buzzer rings out, and your music starts playing, you’ve never heard anything louder. You fight to your last breath, and then you keep fighting. You make it pass Nia Jax’s mass elimination, and lots of other attempts, and somehow, its just you and Charlotte Flair. You give it your best, but the nerves get the best of you, and Charlotte ends up throwing you over the rope.

As disappointed as you are, you made it farther than you could’ve dreamed of, and as the fans yell for your attention while you walk back up the ramp, you can’t help but be proud. You walk through the curtain to find your fellow (past, and present) TNA stars cheering you on, and you’re too busy taking the praise with embarrassment and a shy gaze to the ground, that you don’t notice Kevins favor until you’re snapping a picture with HHH for media.

In all of his glory, standing directly across from you all the way across the room, is Cody Rhodes. Clapping. And staring at you, with that one smile. Y’know, the one, the Dashing Cody Rhodes shit eating grin.

“Oh my God, Kevin,” You mutter under your breath when the pictures are over and you can turn away. “What the fuck. Kevin. What the fuck.” Kevin is no where in sight, and Paul is laughing at you so hard.

“Heard you’re a pretty big fan,” You can hear him approaching from behind you and there’s nothing else you can do but face him and hope not to embarrass yourself any further.

“I’d say I’m an avid watcher, if that’s what you’d like to consider me, yes.” He’s still grinning at you like that, and it’s making this so much harder. The rest of the room is funneling out.

“Oh, okay, okay. Just a big Stardust fan, then?” Your lips purse into a fine line when you find you have no explanation.

“How much did he tell you, exactly?” God, you’re never coming back to this company ever again. Only to get back at Kevin for this. He shrugs.

“I’m just teasing, don’t worry,” His grin relaxed, and suddenly he looks more like the American Nightmare Cody, and his hand is resting on your shoulder. “I’m a pretty big fan, too. You were great out there.”

“Oh, I tried my best, thanks,” Your face is heating up again, and you try to push it off.

“Really, you were great. I hope I get to see you around some more.” You still can’t find any words, and the room seems to be getting hotter by the second. “Or, out of it either. Not to be this straight forward, and feel free to tell me to back off, but if you’re around tomorrow, I’d love to take you to dinner or something.”

“Uhm, uh-“ I’m between your sputtering you find yourself laughing. “You’re about to go fight to the death with my brother.” He laughs, looking down at his ring gear, and nods his head, because yes, he’s going to go beat the shit out of your brother.

“I’m guessing that’s a back off?” He looks back up through his eyelashes with the grin that makes you melt.

“No, no, please, bring him to hell and back.” You grin back, before nodding shyly. “Dinner would be great.” Before you have the chance to keep talking, Pauls calling him over, and he gives you an apologetic look and tells you somehow, he’ll get ahold of you before he rushes over to HHH. Kevin comes in shortly after, and laughs at you with no clue that his worst enemy thinks your fine as hell, and that you’re going to go chase Jey Uso down for his phone number. You sit in the Guerrilla for just a second longer and watch them both disappear behind the curtain before you run off to take a shower, and text everybody you’ve ever known that Cody Fucking Rhodes just asked you out.

Maybe you would be coming back to WWE a couple more times.

Wow look at me goooo it feels like its been so long since i wrote for Cody (prolly cuz it has been)

I’m hungry, sick, and tired but I’m ignoring all of my problems and sat down during raw and couldn’t stop so here you go ig

Enjoy this you probably wont get much more from me this month but im gonna try my best i think the seasonal depression hit me mostly last month but its supposed to snow on Wednesday so that’s when we’ll really see

#LIV writes;*!#Cody Rhodes x reader #wwe x reader #Cody Rhodes #Jey uso #kevin owens #tna x reader #i love tna #so much #idk what else to tag

139 notes · View notes

winterscaptain · 1 month ago

Text

burn.

Aaron Hotchner x GN!Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: welcome back to our regularly scheduled programming after several delays--I've decided to post this before the sideblog is ready because you've all been so patient!

words: 1.7k content advisories: PINING. so much pining its painful

summary: "you forget what you want to remember, and you remember what you want to forget." —cormac mccarthy. december 24th–26th, 2010

ajf masterlist (under construction) | sideblog under construction | what do you want to see next?

The party ends like all the best ones do—slowly, reluctantly, and with too many hugs at the door.

Penelope’s glitter trail fades down the hallway. Emily’s SUV engine kicks over just as Dave mutters something about Italian wine being better than Italian judgment.

You’re still holding your mug.

You should’ve left twenty minutes ago. Spencer caught your eye on the way out and gave you a look—not teasing, just curious. Like he wasn’t sure why you hadn’t moved yet.

The apartment is warm in the way lived-in spaces get after too many bodies and too much sugar. The tree glows soft and quiet. A few stray snowflake crafts litter the coffee table, evidence of Jack’s brief cameo before Jess picked him up for a Brooks-side thing.

You and Aaron are alone now.

He’s in the kitchen, rinsing the same glass twice. You’re in the doorway, trying not to overthink the fact that you’re still here.

“Thanks for hosting,” you say, just because it’s something to say.

He nods. “Sure.”

“Everyone seemed happy,” you offer, like it matters.

Aaron hums. Noncommittal.

He doesn’t have to tell you this is his second Christmas without Haley.

He doesn’t have to tell you the first one didn’t feel real. That last year, he didn’t decorate. Didn’t cook. Didn’t breathe, really. He spent the morning letting Jack unwrap presents and the evening staring at the bottom of a glass.

He didn’t feel the weight of it until this year.

Until the tree was up again. Until Jack drew a family picture and only drew two people. Until he realized how deeply silence cuts when you’ve survived chaos. Until he realized he didn’t know where Haley ordered the Christmas cards.

You shift your weight on the kitchen tile.

Aaron folds the towel with unnecessary precision. His hands are steady, but his pulse is loud in his ears.

“You’re not staying over tonight?” It comes out sharper than he means. Less invitation, more... alarm.

You blink. “Should I?” Your voice is soft, teasing, maybe. He can’t tell.

His gaze dips to your mouth before he can stop it.

Don’t.

His eyes flick back up to yours. “I just thought maybe you had somewhere else to be.”

“Tomorrow, maybe,” you say. He gets the acute sense you’re hedging your bets. “Not tonight.”

He nods.

You step away first. “I’ll get out of your hair.”

Aaron doesn’t stop you. Not right away. But then—

“Stay.”

You stop. Half-turned. He sees your shoulders lift, slow and uncertain.

“You don’t have to,” he adds quickly. “I just—don’t want you to go if you don’t want to.”

Your mouth tips up at the corner. Not quite a smile. Not quite relief.

“Okay.”

+++

He doesn’t breathe until you sit beside him on the couch.

The movie is some forgettable holiday comedy. You’re not watching it.

The lights are off.

Except for the tree.

Tiny bulbs blink lazily across the living room—reds, golds, soft white stars casting a sleepy glow over everything. They reflect off the glass ornaments, scattering glimmers of color onto the ceiling, the walls, the blanket pooled over both of your legs. The room smells like pine, like clove-studded oranges, like a home that’s been lived in, like the candle burning on the coffee table.

Neither one of you has spoken in a while.

Your head is on his shoulder, your legs tucked under the afghan, one of his hands resting over your shin—absentminded, not possessive. Just there. His thumb moves in soft, unconscious circles. You can feel the way his breathing changes with yours, how still he goes every time you shift. You could swear he’s holding himself together with duct tape and hope.

And you’re not doing much better.

“I used to think,” you start, your voice barely more than a breath, “that Christmas would always feel like it did when I was little.”

Aaron’s head tilts, not enough to look at you. Just to show he’s listening.

“Not the presents. Not even the family part. Just that feeling—like the world was softer. Like it could pause for a second.” You smile a little. “Now it just feels like we’re holding our breath.”

A beat.

“Maybe we are,” he says.

You glance up. The tree lights catch his profile. His eyes are on the window, not the TV, but you don’t think he’s looking at anything out there.

The light catches the scar on his nose, the one Foyet gave him. There’s another, fainter one under his chin—childhood bike accident, if you remember correctly.

You should say something. Ask if he’s okay. Ask what he meant. You look away.

Instead, you reach down and tug the blanket tighter over both your legs. His hand settles back over your shin like it never left.

He’s so warm. Stupidly warm. His shoulder is firm beneath your cheek, and his sweatshirt smells like him. You want to tuck yourself closer. You want to crawl inside the space between his ribs and stay there until January.

You don’t look at him on purpose, but you do. He’s already looking at you.

The breath catches in your throat. His eyes are soft. Quiet. But they’re searching.

You shift.

You hear the subtle change in his breathing. Feel the way his whole body goes still.

It’s comforting.

It’s also unbearable.

You see his pulse thrum at his throat. Quick. Hard.

You’re a profiler. You know what adrenaline looks like.

Aaron can feel your breath against his neck. The scent of your shampoo. The weight of your body leaning into his like you were made to fit there.

There’s a fraction of a second where you’re both leaning in. You don’t know who starts it. You’ll never know. But you do know what stops it.

Fear.

Not the kind you’re trained for. Not knives-in-the-dark fear. Not even heartbreak.

This is worse.

This is the fear of breaking what you already have. The fear of crossing into something so big you can’t get it back. The fear that one kiss could end it all, or change it so irrevocably that nothing is safe anymore. That there’s no room to pretend it’s platonic. No way to wake up tomorrow and call it anything less than what it is.

Your lips part.

So do his.

You both lean in. Barely.

And then—

You duck.

Not far. Just enough to hide in his chest.

His breath halts. But his arm comes around you without hesitation. He tucks you close, chin on your head. Protective. Resigned. Maybe relieved.

You don’t speak.

Fuck.

+++

You wake up to the smell of cinnamon and the distant sound of clinking kitchenware.

When you get up, you splash water on your face and brush your teeth in Jack’s bathroom—your toothbrush has its own cup now (you try not to think too hard about that). There’s a cup of coffee waiting for you on the counter—already poured, just the way you like it, and still hot.

Aaron doesn’t say a word when you walk in.

Jack’s back from Roy and Kathleen’s , tearing into a new Lego set on the living room floor.

You sit beside him, bare feet on the carpet. Aaron takes the armchair. Not the couch. Not beside you.

Jack talks enough for all three of you.

You laugh once at something he says—short, bright. Aaron looks up at the sound. You meet his eyes. For a fraction of a second, it cracks something open.

He looks away first. You get the acute sense that he’s not purposefully icing you out.

He’s just protecting himself.

His self-preservation instincts have always been better than yours.

The day goes on. Wrapping paper piles up. Coffee cools. Aaron reads the instructions while Jack builds.

You fold the blanket before you leave. Smooth it. Set it on the back of the couch like it wasn’t the scene of a slow-motion undoing.

Aaron watches you do it.

You both pretend it’s just a blanket.

+++

On Boxing Day (a holiday Penelope insists on honoring despite its unpatriotic British origins) Dave’s house smells like rosemary and caramelized onions and something else vaguely Italian that Dave refuses to name until dinner is served.

Spencer sits cross-legged on the floor helping his godson with a puzzle. Henry’s doing his best and to Spencer’s credit, he narrates his every move (for language development, of course).

Penelope is making spiked hot chocolate for everyone but insists it’s ‘medicinal’, and Emily is on her third glass of wine and definitely snooping through Dave’s record collection, crouched by the cabinet. JJ loosely supervises, watching Spencer and Henry on the floor with a soft look on her face. Will’s on duty today. You all promised to set aside a plate for him.

You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, laughing at something Derek said but not really hearing it. Jack is curled into your side, showing you the Lego starship he and Aaron finished that morning.

It’s loud. Warm. Safe.

It’s the perfect place to hide.

Aaron hasn’t spoken to you since he handed you coffee yesterday morning.

He hasn’t not spoken to you either.

Which is worse.

You’re good at playing normal. You’ve had years of practice. But every time you move, your senses stretch for him. And every time you look over—he’s already watching you.

Never long enough to call it staring. Always just a second too short to make you sure.

Jack shifts in your lap. You adjust him automatically, arms tightening around his middle. He’s warm. His hair smells like cinnamon. When he looks up at you, he’s grinning.

“Wanna see the secret compartment?”

You smile back, genuine. “Obviously.”

Aaron’s watching.

You know he is.

You don’t look at him.

Later, when the kids have bundled up and play outside in the yard, you’re still sitting on the couch, doing your best to slouch and relax without thinking too much about it.

You feel him before you hear him.

He sits beside you, not quite close enough to touch.

Neither one of you says anything.

You think, for a second, he might speak. That he might say thank you for staying. Or I didn’t mean to— or I wanted to—

But he doesn’t.

He just exhales.

So do you.

The front door creaks open. The kids come back in, tracking snow and laughter. Noise floods the room.

#aaron hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #tali writes fanfiction #a joyful future fanfic #fuck it we ball

80 notes · View notes

holyhaech · 4 months ago

Note

hiiiiii!!! can i request Jisung with the 3rd prompt please

stupid cupid

f!reader x park jisung (fluff, secret admirer)

you wake up on a random monday, normal as ever. everything following your regularly scheduled programming. well, until you get a text. it’s probably just your friends, asking you to join them at the party on friday, it’s valentine’s day after all! you already told them you’d go, but maybe they were just double-checking?

you open the text to see that it’s from a random number with the contact labeled “smu cupid”. what kind of stupid prank was this? i mean sure, you had no valentine. but this was just ridiculous. one of your friends must’ve signed you up for this.

you sigh as you read the text.

“you are beautiful, i love your smile. i see you smile from the back row of prof. lee’s lectures, usually when you talk to your friends. god, i wish i could be the one to make you smile like that one day. - andy.”

odd. i mean, it’s sweet and all, but it has to be written by a bot. there’s no one in your lectures named andy. not to mention the whole back row is usually too busy playing roblox to notice anything in front of them.

so you make it your mission for the next 2 days to track down this andy guy. you look back during your lectures, glancing at the back row, which confirms your suspicions. no one in the back row does anything but play video games.

little do you know, there’s a guy directly behind you 2 rows back. he looks at you every lecture, then hides behind his macbook once you turn around. he wishes he wasn’t so shy. but alas, that’s who park jisung was. the quiet nerd in the back of the lecture hall.

you gave up on the third day, thursday the 13th. there’s no chance that someone was going to as you to be their valentine. you convinced yourself that you were okay with that. the messages didn’t stop though, one per day.

tuesday: “i love the way you did your hair today, if i was yours i’d braid your hair every day if i could.”

wednesday: “you’re so smart it boggles my mind! how did you know the answer when no one else did? you amaze me everyday.”

and now, thursday: “this sounds weird but could you go to the big lawn at 4pm? i get out of my last class at 3:30, so i want to ask you something.”

well here you are, 3:58, standing in the middle of the big lawn, looking like a loser. the clock keeps ticking down, with you doubting this whole thing more and more every second.

at 4:02 he shows up, out of breath with flowers in his hand. your secret admirer was none other than park jisung? the boy you had a crush on for all of freshman year? this had to be a joke.

“you’re…andy?” you ask, suspicious.

“uhh yes! it’s my english name. my korean name is park jisung.” you extend his hand holding the flowers, handing them to you.

“i can’t believe this.” you say incredulously.

“did i do something wrong? ireadthatflowersaregoodforconfessionsandtheseremindedmeofyouand.” he rushes through his words, panicking

you cut him off with a kiss on the cheek. “it’s perfect jisung, thank you.”

his cheeks turn crimson. “oh, you’re welcome.” he responds meekly.

“i just wanted to say that i’ve had a crush on you since two years ago, in english 101. and at first i thought it was just a fleeting thing, i don’t know i’ve never been in love before. but my feelings just kept growing the more and more i saw you. i was just wondering if you would like to be my valentine? sorry that all sounded really creepy.” he stops himself to find you making eye contact with him with a bright smile on your face.

“i like you too, jisung or should i say…andy.”

he looks back at you with wide eyes, obviously not expecting this reaction.

you pull him in for a soft kiss. he melts into your lips, sinking into you with every passing second. you pull back to take a breath, with him panting in front of you.

“i love you, yn.”

“i love you too.”

you come together in an embrace, slowly rocking back and forth, enjoying the sunset behind you both.

a/n: title is inspired by nct dream's stupid cupid. hope you like this anon! i feel like it kinda sucks but oh well! we're our harshest critics ig. made this bc i'm tired of the fuckboy jisung allegations!!! that man is a capital L LOSER. he would cream his pants from just a kiss, its true!

#nct fanfic #nct au #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x you #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #park jisung #jisung nct #jisung x reader #nct jisung x reader

82 notes · View notes

365emotionlessfaces · 5 months ago

Text

@schemmentits sorry for the spam! we’re nearing the end of this one. even now i’m thinking of possibly doing a sequel 😅

The Aspiring Teachers Program

Part 9 WC:~1.1k

‘Oh, unh-unh. No way,’ Ava thought, as she watched Melissa and Barb turn on their heels and start heading for one of the rooms down the hall. She immediately followed them. When she walked through the door, the two women were talking in hushed tones about something clearly important.

“I thought I told y’all that if you had any tea, you had to loop me in. How am I supposed to be the most beautiful principal with all the knowledge if y’all aren’t gonna inform me of the knowledge? Come on, y’all, spill.”

Barb looked to the redhead, waiting for Melissa to make the first move.

“Alright!” Melissa threw her hands up after a few moments of Ava staring into her soul. “I went to the Aspiring Teachers Program a long time ago, when I was goin’ through my divorce. I had a whirlwind romance with a nineteen year old, and gave her my stuffed Ronny Jaworski eagle on the off-chance that she might find me again.”

“Well, that’s stupid,” Ava remarked.

“Thanks, Ava,” Melissa muttered out through clenched teeth.

“No, I mean you got that fine young thing out in the hall practically throwing herself at you, and you worried about some girl you haven’t seen in a million years? Girl, please.”

“That’s the thing, Ava, she is the girl from the Program.” Barb pointed out, before turning to Melissa. “And you told me that you just hated the girl’s name, but you hated it because it reminded you of your young girl from Chicago,” Barb said with a few soft chuckles. The glare she got from the redhead made her smile disappear instantly.

“Oh! Well, go get her then! What are you waiting for?” Ava grabbed Melissa’s arm in an attempt to pull her out the door, but Melissa shook out of the principal’s grasp.

“I can’t.”

“Why not? She’s literally right out there, and clearly she’s still into you if she’s carrying around that weird little eagle thing,” Ava said.

“What if when she realizes who I am she hates me for breakin’ her heart? Then, she never talks to me again?”

Just as Ava was about to tell Melissa how silly she was being, Janine poked her head into the door. “Everything okay?” She asked.

“Janine! Tell Melissa that your little friend out there has it bad for her, and all she needs to do is admit her feelings and we’ll all go back to our regularly scheduled lives. Well, except her. She gonna be gettin’ nasty!” Ava did a little dance for emphasis.

Janine pulled the rest of her little self into the room, and gave Melissa a questioning look. When Melissa wouldn’t look up at Janine, the young girl put the pieces together. She, too, had witnessed the moment Melissa saw Ronny.

“Oh! My God! You’re Em! Of course, you are! The eagle and the red hair, and the fiery attitude, it makes so much sense now! But she-” Janine looked at the door, clearly thinking about you “-doesn’t… oh my god, she has no idea! You gotta tell her, Melissa. It’s like a fairytale come true. Star-crossed lovers. Destiny!”

Melissa groaned loudly after the girl practically shouted the last word. This day was not going anything like how she expected, or wanted! Somehow, Melissa had managed to fall in love with the same girl twice. In her defense, she didn’t know that you were the same girl. It had been so long since she had seen Parent Trap’s face, she hadn’t been sure if she could have picked the girl out of a lineup, but now all she could notice was every similarity between you and the girl from years ago.

The three women just stared at Melissa, waiting for her to say or do something. “Alright!” The redhead huffed. “I’ll do it, but I’m not doin’ it tonight, not with all youse guys around being nosy.”

True to her word, Melissa didn’t confess her feelings that night, much to the dismay of her friends and colleagues. She couldn’t bear it. She just knew the moment you found out that she was the one from the Program all those years ago, that you would never talk to her again. She figured she could try and enjoy one last night of being able to see your beautiful smile and your eyes that shined brighter than some of these kids’ futures. One last night to hear your sweet voice.

Over the following week, Melissa could tell that you could sense the growing tension in the break room growing, but had no idea what was going on, and when you asked, Melissa was increasingly thankful that no one was willing to spill the beans. Janine, Ava, and Barb were all getting increasingly frustrated with Melissa, but none of them would tell you why, and when you asked Melissa about their looks, she panicked and she acted like she had no idea that the women were giving her stranger and stranger looks as the week went on.

It all came to a head on that Thursday. The following day would be a non-contact day. The students wouldn’t be at school, but all of the teachers would. Everyone knew that Melissa would be taking the day off, she hated non-contact days, so the three women who had confronted Melissa last week were ready to cause some chaos.

You were the last to arrive in the break room for lunch, much to Melissa’s dismay. Melissa had already warmed your food, like always, so you took your seat and began eating, choosing to listen to the conversations around you, rather than contribute, definitely being quieter than Melissa had grown used to. Jacob and Janine were talking about a movie they were planning on seeing over the weekend, and Mr. Johnson was telling Ava about this underground casino he’s running.

No one in the room noticed as Ava and Barb made eye-contact and enacted a plan they had been preparing for days. Barb turned to her friend and asked loudly what her plans for the weekend were.

“Yeah, Em, got any special plans?” Ava asked innocently. Janine whipped her head to look at the older women after hearing a nickname that no one used for Melissa. The redhead then watched as Janine had a conversation with you across the room, just through your eyes. Before anyone could say anything else, they all watched as you stood quickly, the force of your chair sliding back causing an awful noise, drawing the attention from anyone who hadn’t already given it, grabbed your plate of food and left the room without a word.

Not a single soul left in the break room knew what to do. They didn’t dare say another word because Melissa already looked like she was going to tear Ava limb from limb.

Barb wondered for a moment if she had actually crossed the line this time. She worried that Ava’s life may truly be in danger. That feeling was not quelled when the redhead stood and glared at them. “I’ll deal with you two later,” Melissa said before stomping out of the room to finally face the music.

Part Ten

#lisa ann walter #melissa schemmenti x reader

56 notes · View notes

scoonsalicious · 1 year ago

Text

Unwanted: Chapter 13, Uncomfortable - Pt. 5

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Self harm.

Word Count: 2k

Previously On...: I can't even. Betrayal. Just, ultimate betrayal.

A/N: And we are back to our regularly scheduled programming! Nola was great! I had Lavender-Lemon beignets at Ruby Slipper Cafe, and holy shit! They were heaven on earth! 10/10, would eat again!

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Please let me know if you’d like to be added!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

“Pocket! Oh my God, Pocket!” A concerned voice broke through your haze. You hadn’t even realized you were curled up into the corner of your shower until Wanda stepped forward, turning off the now ice-cold water and was crouched down before you, wrapping you in an oversized towel sheet. “Honey, what have you done to yourself?”

She gently padded at your skin, the soft white cloth coming away spotted with your blood where it had touched open wounds.

“I’m fine, Wands,” you muttered through chattering teeth, your entire body trembling against the freezing tile. “I’m fine. You don’t need to be here.”

“Like hell you are,” she retorted, her usual calm demeanor shattered at the sight of you. “You’re hurting yourself.” You felt her cool, slim fingertips trace gently over the lines of your harshly scrubbed welts. “Honey, what happened? Why would you do this to yourself?” Her gaze flicked around the bathroom: your discarded robe, the streaks of bloody water slowly circling down the shower drain, your ruined skin under her hand. She gingerly removed her fingers from your arm and you instantly missed their warmth. “What did Barnes do?”

All you could do was shake your head as you shivered.

The look Wanda gave you was brutal in its pity. “Oh, honey,” she whispered, enveloping your body into a fierce hug. At the contact, the last of your defenses broke, and your sobbing began again, a tidal wave of pain rushing through you as you clutched her to you.

When your sobs had subsided, Wanda pulled back from you, putting your face in her hands. “Can you get up, sweetie? We need to get you off this floor or you're going to freeze.”

You nodded, and with her assistance, managed to stand. Once you had yourself steady on your feet, Wanda’s hands began to glow red. “I just need to get you warm, okay?” she asked. When you nodded, she let her magic flow around you, and you felt your skin warm and dry, and your towel turned into a long, plush bathrobe. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?” she asked you hopefully as she led you back into the main room and deposited you gently in the corner of your couch. All you could do was feebly nod in return.

“I think we’re going to need some reinforcements,” Wanda said as she pulled out her phone, sending out a quick text. “Now, you just rest here and I’m going to start cleaning up the bathroom, okay?”

Before she could walk away, you reached out and grabbed her arm. “How did you know to come in here, Wands?” you asked. “How’d you know I needed you?”

She cast you a soft smile. “Bucky called me. Told me you’d had a fight, that he’d really fucked up and asked me to check in on you.”

You nodded. At least he was capable of doing something right.

“You wanna talk about it?” she asked gently. You shook your head, but took her hands and put them to the sides of your head, giving her unspoken permission to view the memory directly from your mind.

Wanda looked at you. “Are you sure?” she asked. You nodded, wanting her to understand, but not wanting to have to explain how absolutely betrayed you felt, to relive the pain of it. You felt the familiar warmth enter your temples as Wanda’s fingers began glowing once again. Unlike the last time she had sifted through your memory, this left you feeling hollowed out and empty inside.

“Are you shitting me?” Wanda asked in surprise when she’d finished, her fingers returning to their normal hue. “Is he a fucking moron?!” You couldn’t help but bark out a quick laugh at her response; it was rare for Wanda to ever use profanities, especially in reference to another person, let alone another member of your team, but it was nice to know that you weren’t alone in your assessment of Bucky’s actions.

Before either of you could say anything else, your bedroom door flew open and Natasha came bursting through. “I swear to God, Wanda, this better be a legit emergency, because I was just about to—” She paused at the sight of the two of you sitting facing each other on the couch, expressions forlorn.

“What did I miss?” she asked cautiously.

“Come help me clean the bathroom, Nat, and I’ll explain.” Wanda stood and held out a hand to Natasha. She turned back to look at you. “Rest a little bit. We’ll be right in the other room if you need us,” she said before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Nat cast you a confused look before following Wanda into the en-suite and you sighed heavily. You were exhausted and you couldn’t believe the turn the night had taken. Where were you even going to go from here?

The worst part was, the only person you wanted to talk to was Bucky— not the Bucky who had said those horrible things, who had betrayed you, but the Bucky who had been your best friend, who you had trusted with all the dirty details of your past, who you thought understood you better than anyone else in the world.

Where had he gone, and who was this stranger that had taken his place?

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to keep the tears from falling once again.

“Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Nat shouted from the bathroom. In seconds, she was storming back into the bedroom and out the door. “I am going to kill him,” she muttered to you before leaving, and a few seconds later, you could hear her banging on Bucky’s door across the hall.

“Oh dear,” Wanda said, coming out of the bathroom. “I should have anticipated that reaction from her.” She came to sit beside you as you both listened to the muffled shouting as Nat ripped Bucky a new one.

A wicked smile tugged at Wanda's lips, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, I did warn him. Barnes can't say he didn't see this coming."

You managed a weak chuckle and leaned back against the couch, feeling a little more grounded now, surrounded by your friends' protective wrath. It was oddly comforting, even if all you wanted was to be left alone to deal with your own heartbreak.

"He'll survive," Wanda said dismissively, her fingers absently tracing winding paths in the plush fabric of your robe. Her gaze drifted back to you, her expression softening once more. "The more important question is...how are you doing?"

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly, your eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. How were you supposed to answer that? You felt like your heart had been ripped open and then stomped on, then fed back to you.

"Better than Barnes," was all you said, eliciting a choked laugh from Wanda.

"That's not much of an achievement, sweetheart."

"I know," you replied softly, eyes still fixed on the ceiling. "But it's the best I can do right now."

She smoothed your hair. “Would you like me to help you sleep, love?” You nodded, grateful for the assistance she was offering.

She took a glance at your bed. “Oh,” she said once she saw its stripped state. “Well, that won’t do.” She raised her hands and conjured up a luxurious bed set, with silk scarlet sheets and a downy scarlet duvet. “There,” she said, sounding pleased with herself. “That’s much better.”

You looked at your newly transformed bed in awe. “Is that, like, going to disappear at midnight or something?” you asked, transfixed by what you had just seen happen.

Wanda laughed softly. “I’m a witch, sweetie, not a fairy godmother. It’s permanent. Dry-clean only, but permanent.”

You exhaled, beyond impressed. “If I were you,” you said, awestruck, “I’d be using my powers for all kinds of evil.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Wanda said with a smile. She waved her hand and conjured up a satin scarlet sleep set. “Why don’t you go change and I’ll turn down the sheets?”

You nodded, picking up the night clothes she’d created for you and headed to the bathroom to change. When you came out a moment later, you saw Wanda had conjured herself a matching sleep set. “You didn’t think I was going to leave you alone at a time like this, did you?” she asked. “We’ll make it a slumber party, and Nat’ll get a matching set when she comes back.

“Thank you, Wands,” you said, rushing toward her and embracing her.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said, patting your hair gently. “That’s what friends are for.”

You held each other for a moment, lost in the comfort Wanda provided. You were so grateful to have friends like her and Nat.

As if you’d conjured her with your thoughts, the door creaked open and Nat slunk through. She made a face at the sight of the two of you in your matching sleep sets and scowled when Wanda raised a glowing hand, transforming her clothing to match.

“We’re having a slumber party, Natasha,” Wanda said, as if that perfectly explained why she’d given Nat magic pajamas.

Nat’s expression softened. “Of course we are,” she said, coming over to the two of you and wrapping her arms around you both, effectively sandwiching you between her and Wanda.

“I hope you didn’t physically disable Barnes,” Wanda said. “Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course, but we’re already a man down.”

Nat snorted. “No physical violence needed,” she said, pulling back from the hug. “He’s beating himself up enough as it is.” She turned to you. “I don’t like saying this, because you know how much I hate the way he’s been treating you since Carthage showed up, but he knows how badly he fucked up. I’m not saying you should forgive him– you’re the only one who can make that decision, but once you’ve taken some time to process everything, I think you should talk to him.”

You swallowed and nodded. You couldn’t fathom doing it right now, but you knew you’d have to eventually.

“That’s a lovely painting,” Wanda said, nodding her head toward where Twilight in the Tropics sat on your desk, and you were grateful for her for changing the topic. “Where did it come from?”

“Looks like a Stark Apology to me,” Nat said, then chuckled when you nodded.

“Let’s get you to bed, Pocket,” Wanda said. “It’s been a long night and you must be exhausted.”

God, but you were. Every fiber of your body ached as you crawled into bed between Wanda and Nat, the new, magic silk sheets feeling delicious against your skin, and the duvet enveloping you like a cloud.

“Now, about that painting,” Wanda said, raising her hands again. “I think you deserve a little show after everything you’ve been through tonight, don’t you?” As her hands glowed, the lights dimmed and the painting lit up and came to life, as though you were looking through an open window onto the living scene as Frederic Church had painted it in 1874. The moonlight rippled on the water, the wind whispered through the palm fronds, and the sounds of a tropical night filled your room. It was breathtaking.

“Holy shit,” Nat said in a hushed, revenant voice.

“Thank you, Wands,” you whispered, squeezing her hand on top of the duvet. “This is amazing."

“Let it lull you to sleep, sweetie,” Wanda said, squeezing your hand back. “Goodnight, Pocket. Good night, Natasha.”

“Night, Wands,” you said, feeling a small smile touch your mouth. “Good night, Natty.”

“Night, Wanda,” Nat said, stifling a yawn. “Night, Pocket. Tomorrow will be better. I promise.”

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

210 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 2 years ago

Text

my ears fill with the sound of you kneeling [K.Bishop]

pairing: sub!kate bishop x dom!reader

summary: you and your girlfriend explore a slightly unconventional form of comfort after you catch her slipping into her self-destructive tendencies again.

warnings: smut -> minors and god look away [literally just porn with feelings…like a LOT of feelings; petplay/puppyplay; vibrator use; humping/grinding; finger sucking; a touch of overstimulation; kate exploring her submissive side while R tries to guide her through it]

wordcount: 2.4k

a/n: i was working on a few requests and then i blacked out and wrote this whole thing instead. i'm sorry [but also, you're welcome :)] i have nothing else to say for myself, enjoy. [we'll be back to our regularly scheduled wholesome hailee steinfeld programming next week]

* * * * * * *

“I can explain.”

Those words never mean anything good, especially when they come from the mouth of a certain stubborn archer. A stubborn archer you happen to be very much in love with.

You sigh the second her words reach your ears, making sure to count down from five before turning away from the fridge to face her. You’re not sure what you’re expecting to find but you’re sure expecting it wouldn’t have helped much anyway.

Kate stands in front of you, her face littered with small (badly bandaged) cuts and noticeable bruises forming on her gorgeous face.

The purple suit she wears whenever she goes out on “Avengers business” (as she likes to call it) hides the damage you’re sure has been done to her body. You don’t know whether to yell at her or ask her if she’s okay.

Ultimately, you do neither and instead, walk away before you say something you’ll regret. Just because your girlfriend happens to be a very powerful and stupidly reckless superhero doesn’t mean you have to like it. You’ve learned a lot about the brunette since you started dating her and sometimes that information was more of a curse than a blessing.

“y/n, wait!” She calls out before following after you like a lost puppy. “Just hear me out.”

“Hear you out?” You scoff. “Why? So you can lie to me and tell me you’re totally okay when we both know the truth?”

The lack of response tells you everything you need to know.

She’s slipping again. Letting herself get caught up in fears and doubts that only make her act more reckless than usual. She’s not getting hurt because she’s unskilled or lacks proper training, she’s getting hurt because she wants to. Because she thinks she deserves it.

You hate that you understand where she's coming from. You're not a stranger to self-destructive tendencies but at least yours don't involve getting repeatedly punched in the face.

She follows you all the way into the bedroom and it’s not until you’re both in the safety of those four walls that her hand grips your wrist. You could escape her hold if you wanted to but you’re not angry enough for that. A part of you wishes you were so you didn’t have to look at the pain written all over her face as she turns you around to face her.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Please,” she says, taking a step closer. “Tell me what I can do to fix this.”

She's practically begging you and despite how badly you want to pretend tonight never happened, you catch a glimpse of the desperate look in her eyes. You don't think you've ever seen it before and yet you know exactly what it means.

Kate's begging for more than just your forgiveness right now.

You know you shouldn’t do it. You should tell her to take a shower and then climb into bed with her and help her recover from her mistakes. But your response slips out before you can stop it.

“Kneel.”

Your breath catches in your throat as she complies immediately with your command. A part of you had been expecting her to do it and yet it stuns you all the same.

You’ve never seen your girlfriend like this. Not only is this the most submissive she's ever been with you, but it’s also the most relaxed you’ve seen her since her destructive cycle started up again.

For the first time in weeks, the weight she carries on her shoulders every day disappears. There’s no shame, no regret, no pain in her eyes. Nothing but pure adoration and submission.

“Please,” she whispers. “I need you.”

Her words should be arousing, and in a weird way they are, but you can’t stop the waves of concern from crashing into you. You can tell she really does need this. Needs to let go of herself and have someone else take the wheel for once. But you’re not sure if that person should be you considering the way you’ve been treating her since she walked through the door.

You open your mouth to tell her that much but she’s quicker than you are. Her hand reaches out for yours and she holds your wrist tightly before bringing it closer to her mouth. You watch with wide eyes, barely able to breathe, as she slowly takes two of your fingers into her eager mouth.

The warm wetness that surrounds your digits is unlike anything you've ever experienced before. The vulnerability turns into intimacy right in front of your eyes and, even though you're nervous as hell about messing this all up for her, you let the moment envelop you until everything else fades away.

You know, deep down, you need this just as much as she does.

When you finally speak again, it's in a tone you've never used before, not with Kate, not with anyone but you seem to hit the nail right on the head considering the reaction you get out of your girlfriend. “Good girl. Is this what you need? To have your pretty mouth filled up and used?”

She whines in response, the sound coming out muffled yet desperate. It’s the closest she can get to confirming your suspicions in this state.

A shiver runs down your spine at the thought of all the things you could do to her. Kate’s always been strong. Resilient in all aspects of her life, and it really would be so easy to push her to her breaking point. But you don’t want to do that. Not tonight. Not when you can see how much she needs to be both comforted and dominated.

You are a little upset with her still though so you decide to meet her halfway.

“Strip.”

You remove your fingers from her mouth once the command is out in the air, ignoring the whimper she lets out at the loss. You pretend to ignore the telltale sound of fabric rustling as she removes her clothes while you walk to the bedside table and take out a familiar wand vibrator.

Your steps are slow and deliberate once you decide to make your way back to her. It’s impossible for your eyes not to trail down her contradiction of a body. She’s full of toned muscles from years of archery and martial arts training and yet there’s an air of softness to her skin.

An air of warmth that seems to radiate from her even now. Even as bruises litter her torso and cuts nip at her soft thighs.

“You look so pretty on your knees for me, baby.”

She shakes her head although a small pink hue spreads along her face at your words. “Not baby.”

“No?” You ask as you come to a stop in front of her, forcing her to tilt her head back to look up at you. “Then what are you?”

A beat of silence passes and you almost expect her to keep her desires to herself…until a single whisper falls from her inviting lips. The sound is so quiet you almost wonder if you imagined it.

“Puppy? Is that what my good girl wants to be for me? A cute little puppy?”

Your hesitation at using the name fades away the second Kate’s eyes light up at the sound of it. You’re not sure how long she’s kept this desire a secret from you but it’s merely another thing to add to the long list of reasons why you love her.

The look on her face is enough of a response but she still uses her words, clearly looking to keep being your good girl. “Yes, please.”

“Such a good puppy.” Your free hand comes down to pet the top of her head. You chuckle to yourself while she whines and presses up against the loving touch. “A little puppy like you needs to be trained. Do you think you can handle that, pup?”

She nods instantly and you know she’s placing all her trust in you. Trust that you’ll take care of her the way she needs right now. That you won’t leave her like so many before you.

“Stay like that, okay?” You reach over to grab a random pillow from the bed and place it between her legs.

Her hips buck forward before you even do anything. You coo at her, placing a quick kiss on the top of her head and positioning the vibrator on top of the pillow. You make her wait a few agonizing seconds before you switch the toy on.

The sound she lets out is more of a whine than a moan but neither of you mind too much. You move the toy around, making sure it’s pressed right against her clit and pretending you don’t notice the speed with which her wetness covers the vibrator.

You step back once you’re satisfied and the pout she gives you might just be the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen. “You have to be trained, remember, pup? No touching. If you want to cum, you’ll have to hump that vibe like the needy little puppy you are.”

A part of you thinks she’s going to complain about the rules you’ve set in place but then her face contorts in pleasure and you know her mind is too far gone for her to argue back.

There’s no better feeling for you right now than watching as your girlfriend lets herself go like this. There may be a lot of things the two of you need to talk about later but right now is all about helping her feel good. It’s about providing her with something she’s always wanted but never had.

You’re lost in a world of your own as your eyes hone in on the way she grinds her needy cunt against the toy. You could probably come undone from the mere sight but you’re not thinking about yourself right now.

“How’s that feel, puppy?”

You don’t expect her to be able to form words right now but she surprises you. “Good! Feels, oh- feels so good!”

“I’m glad. You deserve to feel good, pup.”

She half-whimpers, half-moans in response.

It only takes a few more moments for her movements to grow sloppy, a telltale sign that she's close to the edge.

“I’m gonna-” One quick look at your face causes her to change her words. “Please, please can I cum?”

You can’t hold back your smile as she asks for permission. “Yes. Go ahead and cum for me, puppy.”

She doesn’t leave you waiting for long. All it takes is a few more seconds of her humping the vibrator for her to fall apart. Your eyes widen slightly while you take in the enticing sight before you. The way her whines grow louder, the way her whole body trembles and her head flies back in pure ecstasy.

“y/n!” She cries out.

You’re there in an instant.

You’ve missed so many things, messed up even more, but you’re there when she needs you this time. There’s no hesitation in your movements, no other thoughts in your usually crowded mind except being the support beam your girlfriend desperately needs right now.

“It’s alright, you did so good for me.” Your voice is barely above a whisper as your arms wrap around her trembling frame.

She slumps forward into you, incoherent mumbles and soft whimpers leaving her lips. The sight would be heartbreaking if you weren’t acutely aware of the way her hips continue to rock against the vibrator still snugly nestled against her sensitive cunt.

“Katie,” you mumble. “You can stop, darling. You don’t have to keep going.”

Even as the words escape you, you can tell she doesn’t want to stop. She’s sensitive and vulnerable and so, so needy.

“Please…” You can’t see her face but you can feel the desperation in her voice as her breath hits your neck.

You instantly pull her closer to you, whispering soft reassurances as your hand slowly slides down her body, teasing and caressing her overheated and battered skin. Her body trembles against yours and you feel her bury her face into the crook of your neck in search of some stability.

You’re happy to provide it for her, allowing her to hold on tightly to your arms despite the sting her nails leave behind on your skin.

Your fingers finally reach the buzzing toy and you grab onto the handle to lift it up and press it further into her dripping pussy. She reacts immediately, letting out muffled gasps of pleasure as she continues to grind against the overwhelming stimulation you’re providing her with.

“Shh, you’re okay.” You don’t know if your words register in her mind but you keep going anyway. “Such a good puppy letting me play with you like this.”

“Need…please…”

“I know, pup, I know. Just let go. Let me make you feel good.”

She was closer to the edge than you expected because those words are all it takes for her to fall apart again. Her grip on you tightens to the point of being painful but you don't dare move away from her.

You let out a soft sound of your own when you feel her wetness drip down onto the toy in your hand. You're sure your fingers are soaked with her release but you don't focus on anything except your shivering girlfriend.

“Good girl,” you whisper as you turn the vibrator off and move it away from her. “My good little puppy.”

You feel a different type of wetness hit your neck. You're not sure if the tears are from pleasure or pain but you comfort her all the same.

“It's alright, Katie, you're alright.”

The whimper you get in response tugs at your heartstrings enough to get your hand moving. It's a bit awkward considering the position you're both in but you manage to slip your fingers between your neck and her mouth.

It only takes a second for her to register what you're offering her. Her lips part and she takes your fingers into her mouth, moaning at the taste of herself that lingers on your soaked digits.

“Shh, I've got you. You're safe with me.”

You both know your words are true and a sense of calm settles into the air around you.

It's going to take a lot more than this moment of pleasure to help Kate out of the cycle she finds herself in but this is a good first step. And you intend to hold her as tight as this when you finally begin to navigate what comes next.

#kate bishop x reader #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x you #kate bishop fic #kate bishop smut #kate bishop #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #hawkeye fanfic #marvel #marvel fanfiction #mcu #wlw #wlw fic #writing

717 notes · View notes