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neochan · 1 year

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THE PRIDEFUL GAMER (M)

SERIES MASTERLIST LINK | remember this is part two of a series! read part one for context!

PAIRING | best friend!haechan x reader

SYNOPSIS | lee donghyuck had the largest ego you’d ever seen for someone who stayed cramped in their dorm room all night playing video games; but when you stay in with him the night after a raging party, you find yourself realizing that ego just might be deserved.

WC | 10.8k

WARNINGS | cursing, mentions of alcohol & weed, sexual comments, hyuck shirtless and covered in paint, party games, comments abt virginity, switch!hyuck (slight sub, lean dom), sexual content (nothing too crazy).

A.N | i know you guys have been waiting for this, so i hope it lives up to the hype :) and if it doesn't - sorry

“Haechan, I need you to fuck me.”

Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, tired eyes ringed with heavy circles and glinting in judgement.

This was fucking ridiculous.

No matter how many times you sat in front of the mirror and practiced, you couldn’t get the words out with a straight face. Even the wet dreams that plagued your sleeping hours weren’t enough to prepare you. After all, you still couldn’t believe what you were going to ask Haechan to do. Or participate in, rather.

It wasn’t that you were scared, or that you didn’t want it, because trust and believe your mind and body both craved him; it was just stressful. Asking your bestfriend to give you some dick and then go on and mind his business like nothing happened?

Unfathomable.

But it was Haechan, and something in your brain told you he’d jump at the chance to fuck you; at least you were hoping so. How could you not think that when he said things like –

“If I open the door, am I gonna see boobs?”

Case in point.

You yell back, a blush of embarrassment heating your face while you fumble around to act like you were putting on makeup and not practicing asking him for sex, “No you pervert!”

The door swings wide open and the boy in question steps into the tiny room, “That’s a damn shame.”

God Damn.

Ever since that alcohol induced dream, your body had taken the liberty of reacting every time you caught sight of Haechan. It didn’t matter if he was drunk with pasta sauce smeared all over his face after he smashed a bowl of ravioli (true story), or if he was all done up for a class presentation on the history of the toaster oven (out of all things); your body reacted the same either way.

It went further than just sight though. If you so much as smelled someone wearing similar cologne to what he normally wore, arousal bells started ringing and you had to sprint home to relieve the ache between your legs.

This time wasn’t any different.

Fluffy, dark brown hair is what you see first, gelled stylishly in effortless waves around his head, save for the small curls on the nape of his neck. When you move your gaze lower, you lock eyes with his, and a spark of curiosity blooms. Then it’s his perfect pink lips set in a cute pout, and rounded jaw that you often stared at when he ate because it made you think of how good he’d be at eating you out. The thoughts start to creep into your mind, and you have no choice but to shake them out and replace them with something else, which so happened to be his outfit…or lack thereof.

He wasn’t wearing a shirt, revealing a cute tummy with faint lines and deeply toned biceps. You’d punched him in the stomach once before, and you didn’t need to see abs to know that that man was rock solid. Multicolored neon body paint decorated his torso and back, tiny splatters here and there, but the star of the show is a lime green handprint wrapped around his throat (Jaemins probably). His black sweats also had paint on them, but his combat boots didn’t have a drop of color. If he expected to get out of the frat with them looking spotless, he had another thing coming.

“You do know the theme is neon?” His voice jolts you back into reality, and the blush that was gone finds its way back to your throat and cheeks. You were literally sitting in front of the mirror with a neon pink bralette on, why was he asking you this? Slightly, you nod. “Then why are you staring at me? I know I’m not ripped like Jen or Jaem, but come on, I can rock the dad bod!”

“Haechan. Take this with a grain of salt, but you have a decent body.”

Automatically, the compliment goes to his head, “Wanna see all of it sometime?”

Yes, please.

“No.”

A cheeky smile forms on his lips, “Thought so…”

“I’m actually surprised you’re going. Don’t you have a video game competition or something?” You stand up from your spot in front of the vanity and grab your leather jacket that was laying on the rack beside it.

“I can’t pass up free liquor. You know this.”

For some reason, your outfit seems like its missing something, and desperately your eyes are searching for it… ah! A necklace. You couldn’t go in a frat without some form of jewelry. Unable to reach behind yourself and clasp it, you hold it out to Haechan who doesn’t hesitate to grab it and push your shoulder, so your back was to him. “So, the plan is to get hammered?”

Tender fingers brush aside your hair, a spark igniting in the pit of your stomach. You feel almost giddy at his touch, and you’re not sure you entirely hate it. You anticipate more, and he doesn’t disappoint. His hands reach around your throat, the heavy pendant resting at the base of your throat while his fingers work at the nape of your neck to clasp it.

“The plan is to get absolutely drunk, find a bad bitch and fuck her till the entire house knows my name.” His voice is low, dropping right next to your ear, and the air blowing from his lips makes your shiver into his touch at your neck.

“S-Sounds like a good plan.” you whisper.

What was this boy doing to you?

“Wanna help?”

“H-Help? Help with what? Help you?”

He backs away, hands held out in front of him and a smile cracking his features, “Yeah. Wanna help me find a frat bunny?”

I’m right here.

“Oh, uh, sure.”

“Perfect.” He starts to head out before turning back to you, “You didn’t think I was gonna ask if I could fuck you… did you?”

Your response comes out suspiciously fast, but Haechan had pregamed before stopping at your dorm, and he definitely didn’t catch it, “No! I would never! You’re like… really fucking gross. Sorry Hyuck.”

“Ahhh, theres the Y/N I know!” he claps you on the shoulder, “By the way, Jeno and Jaem are waiting in the car downstairs so hurry up.”

With that, he’s gone, the slamming of the front door resonating deep in the pit of your stomach, your nerves buzzing, and every muscle tense.

This was going to be a long night.

People were already throwing up in the bushes by the time you and the boys arrived, but you’d rather wade through puke than sit in Jeno’s car a second longer.

The entire ride to the frat house was a mess. From being squished between Jaemin and Hyuck, thanks to Jeno reserving the front seat for his precious bottles of Smirnoff and Hennessy (Seriously, he wouldn’t move them. He even buckled them up in case he crashed the car. As if the bottles wouldn’t break.) to having one of said bottles passed around the backseat and promptly spilled all over your upper body; you couldn’t take it anymore.

Unfortunately, the situation was made worse by Haechan's actions. As the cold alcohol spilled all over you, his hands peppered over your body, gliding through the sticky liquid that was rapidly drying. When he touched the lace of your bralette, his fingers inadvertently brushed against your nipple, reigniting the warmth in your stomach.

You really hoped he hadn’t noticed.

Jaemin, on the other hand, kept shoving his arm around to try and garner your attention towards his phone, which had pictures of sorority girls pulled up.

“Which ones should I take back to my place tonight?” He kept asking you, again and again and again until you and his minty breath were quite acquainted.

Needless to say, you wanted out.

So, when the car came to a screeching halt along the sidewalk, you were all but climbing over Jaemins lap to get the door open.

“You know, I’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have you all over me, but this isn’t what I meant.” The flirtatious jokes from Jaemin were already starting, but he wasn’t the target tonight, Haechan was.

“Sorry, Haechan’s body odor was starting to get to me.” You send a warm smile to the boy clambering out of Jeno small coupe behind you.

“I literally haven’t even started being mean to you yet, why are you throwing insults?” Haechan stands tall, the heels of his combat boots making him tower over you, “And I’m wearing old spice anyway, this shit lasts ages. You must have been smelling Jaemins dick… I heard it’s quite overused.”

The pink haired boy whips around, hands shoved deep into the pocket of his sweatpants, “Why are you mad I get more pussy than you?”

Jeno thrusts a bottle of alcohol into you and Haechans hands, leaving Jaemin empty handed, who looks at you with a pout. You uncap your bottle, a dark thing of Hennessy, and pass it to him.

Haechan snorts, “Not mad, just annoyed that you keep me up all night with your grunting.”

Jaemin passes the bottle back to you and gives you a wink, but he doesn’t say anything else. Instead, the four of you start walking through the grass and up the steps to the frat house.

The front lawn was littered with red, plastic solo cups, ping pong balls, and empty beer cans. Toilet paper hung around a poorly spray-painted piece of cardboard that read, ‘welcome to the jungle’. College students hung around the porch smoking cigarettes and weed, and somehow a joint ends up between your fingers before you’ve even reached the front door.

“Wanna shotgun that?” Haechan smirks, wiggling his eyebrows when you shove the loosely wrapped blunt between your lips.

Inhaling takes a minute, the burning sensation of the weed filling your lungs and immediately reaching your bloodstream. You blow the smoke directly in Haechans face as a way of declining his offer, though pressing your lips against his and sharing a smoky kiss sounded real good right then.

He waves a hand in front of his face, “Fine. I see how it is.”

Whoever handed you the blunt plucks it out from between your fingers before you can pass it to Haechan and disappears around the side of the house.

“Well, that was mean.” Jaemin sighs defeatedly.

“I’m pretty sure Renjun is inside selling if you want to buy something off of him.” Jeno shouts over his shoulder.

“Fair warning though, he doesn’t roll well.” You spit tiny green pieces of marijuana onto the front walkway and cringe at the taste. There was a reason you didn’t like edibles.

Jeno just nods to the freshman pledge assigned to door duty (a scrawny boy who went by the name of Shotaro) and shoulders the front door of the house. Immediate booming bass finds your chest and rattles through you, the smell of spilled alcohol and cheap drugs clouding the house in a thick smog. Black lights hang from the ceiling, the people loitering near the entranceway glowing brightly in neon oranges, blues, green, yellows, and pinks.

You vaguely notice a few of the brothers roaming around passing out beers to the partygoers, but one in particular notices the four of you crowding the entrance and discards his last beer to a random girl at his side before jogging over.

“Jae!” Jeno and the brother lock hands and embrace, slapping each other’s backs in a way that looked painful.

The only reason you had gotten into the frat parties all year long was because of Jaehyuns and Jeno’s relationship – they were on the hockey team together, and brothers.

Jung Jaehyun was a senior, the head of the most popular frat on campus, NEO, and Jeno’s half-brother. You’d never really interacted with him, but from what you heard, he was a nice guy with an even nicer girlfriend, and they were head over heels in love with each other. You didn’t see her around anywhere, not that you would know what she looked like.

“Looking for someone?” Haechans voice, gravelly and low, finds your ear and makes you shiver despite how hot it was in the house. You hated the way he made your body feel, but not as much as you should have.

“You’re about to be looking out of one eye if you don’t back the fuck up.” Hostility was not your strong suit, but Haechan just drug something out of you.

“Jesus Christ, you need to drink. You’re so much better drunk. A lot nicer.” He smiles down at you, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and you can physically feel your heart beginning to melt.

A little voice in the back of your head is telling you to say, and you’re so much better when you shut up, how about you put that mouth to use between my legs?

But you refrain.

It’s very hard to refrain.

You almost slip.

That is, until you realize Jaehyun has since walked away and left the four of you to party how you please.

“Okay. I’ll be staying sober. Well, as sober as a good couple blunts make me. Please try to stay in the house, it makes it so much easier when it’s time to go and I have to round you jack offs up.” Jeno smirks, handing his bottle of alcohol to Jaemin who gladly takes it.

You’re surprised he hasn’t already gone looking for someone to fuck, it was well known that him and Jaehyun didn’t particularly get along. Something about Jaemin fucking Jaehyuns ex… you didn’t know the full story.

Jeno grabs Haechans bare shoulders, “Please, for the love of God, do not jump in the pool again. Last time you almost drowned and I don’t feel like planning a funeral for your sorry ass.”

“I make no such promises, but I will try my best.” The younger boy beams.

“Alright, go have fun, and try not to catch a STD. I’ll be over with Renjun if you need me.” And with that, your friend Jeno breaks from the group, his neon painted bare back shining brightly amongst the crowd right before he fades in.

Jaemin breaks off almost immediately after chugging the bottle of alcohol Jeno had given him.

Haechan, who wasn’t one for parties and usually stayed holed up in his dorm room playing video games all night, sways by your side awkwardly.

“Aren’t you gonna go find a frat bunny to fuck?” You shout over the blaring music.

He looks almost nervous when he shifts his gaze to you, “I don’t really see anyone of interest… except you of course. Wanna go fuck in the bathroom?” A shit eating grin blinds you right before he lifts the Smirnoff bottle and takes a swig, finishing it with a grimace.

Wouldn’t it be nice to say yes and get his part of the challenge over? Fuck, how you wanted to grab his hand and drag him to the nearest bathroom, but frat parties weren’t the place to hook up, and you wanted to take your time with him anyway.

“I wouldn’t let you touch me with a ten-foot pole.”

“You’re telling me you don’t wanna hit this?” He rubs his free hand across his chest and stomach, dipping it so far as to drag down a bit of his sweatpants. A strong V-Line peeks out and you almost choke on air, eyes bugging out of your skull.

“Keep your fucking clothes on Hyuck.” You sputter.

He cocks an eyebrow and reaches out for your hand, which you hesitate to take. What was he doing? Was he trying to bring you into the nearest bathroom?

All he does is tug you towards the main room, an open area full of students dancing, drinking, and smoking, “Interesting… Come on, let’s party.”

The feeling of his calloused fingers enlaced with yours was enough to send your mind spiraling deep into the thoughts that plagued your dreams – like what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your neck, or shoved between your thighs, maybe even down your throat.

Mentally, you tell your brain to shut up (it always did get slutty in these environments).

“Y/N!!” A girly voice shouts off to your left, dragging both you and Haechans attention. Lisa, a girl in the same major as you, who you’ve known for a couple years now, is barreling toward you and the boy you’re linked hand in hand with. She shoves a few partygoers to the side, an opened beer can in her hand which she’s cautious enough not to spill.

When she finally makes it to your side, her eyes dip down and make note of your hands crushed together, a freshly waxed eyebrow popping up in question at you. Immediately you yank your hand away from Haechan, who glares in protest but doesn’t say anything.

“I didn’t think I would see you here!” She’s beaming head to toe and slings a paint splattered arm around your shoulders.

You smile back, “Jeno made me come.” She’d had a crush on Jeno for ages, and from the look on her face at the mention of his name, it still existed.

“Oh, he’s here? I didn’t even know!! I need to go find him asap.”

“Well yeah, it’s his brothers party and all…” Haechan pipes up from beside of you, nervously biting at his nails. He always chewed his cuticles unrecognizable.

She looks up at him with a weird expression before extracting her arm and turning to face you, her back to Haechan, who sneers and throws up a middle finger in her direction. It makes you chuckle, but thankfully she doesn’t question it.

“Well, a bunch of us are playing games upstairs if you wanna join.”

You start to say no, but you can tell in her eyes that she wasn’t going to take that as an answer, so you nod your head, “Sure.”

A squeal so loud heads turn, erupts from her mouth, “Good!!! Ima go find Jeno and then head up there. I’ll see you soon.” And with a kiss to your cheek, she’s gone.

“Well, guess we’re playing games.” Haechan huffs, reaching for your hand now that she was gone, “I hope it’s spin the bottle so I can kiss you.”

Me too.

Rolling your eyes, you start towards the stairs, “Haechan?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

Haechan didn’t shut up.

In fact, he kept his mouth running all the way up the stairs, through the bodies loitering in the hallway, around a puddle of puke, and into the makeshift living room Lisa must have set up.

Not like you were paying much attention to what he said anyways. Instead, your mind chose to focus on the way his back looked in the dim lighting of the frat house. Underneath a layer of pretty tan skin, the boy was all muscle, stretching and tensing when his lithe legs carried him up the inclined stairs. And when he turned around to make sure you were still following him, despite his hand being attached to yours, you notice the muscles carried all the way around to his abdomen and torso.

Because the house was hot and humid, the paint splattered on his chest was fading and streaking. The neon paint dripped down his body, with some even dribbling into the waistband of his sweatpants. The idea of the paint staining his v-line creates a sensation of warmth in your stomach.

You wanted to see him naked so bad and it made you mad.

What happened to the boy who stayed in his room every day and barely touched vegetables? What happened to him being a friend and just that? Had one night of drinking skewed your common sense? Or was this just a side effect of the challenge you were doing?

Whatever, he’s fucking hot and he has a big dick, you argue with yourself, images of what you saw on his phone flashing through your mind.

Haechan getting his dick sucked by some random girl, forcing her to deepthroat and then whimpering.

The thought alone almost makes you steer him into the nearest bathroom, but the makeshift living room comes too soon.

“I literally can’t get rid of you.” Jaemin perks up from his spot on the floor, bottle of liquor tucked away in his lap.

“Talk to Lisa.” You shoot back flatly.

As you glance around the room, you realize that the only person you recognize is Jaemin. While a few faces seem familiar, you can't recall their names or where you may have seen them before.

Hyuck guides you over to the circle where everyone is seated and takes a spot, leaving you to settle in opposite him. "Looks like it's just you and me," he says with a grin, displaying his gleaming white teeth. You can't help but wonder how they would feel against your inner thighs, and you unconsciously clench them together while crossing your arms.

You didn’t know how long Lisa and Jeno were going to be, or if she was still downstairs recruiting more players, but you’re lucky not to be left alone with your thoughts too long, because a couple minutes later, she, Jeno and Jaehyun (surprisingly) filter into the room, one after the other.

Haechan’s eyes cut to you, and he smirks, eyebrows wiggling in a stupidly suggestive way.

“Okay! Seems like we got enough players.” Lisa pipes up, taking the spot next to you that sat empty (thankfully no one had sat and tried to make acquaintance. you were too sober for that). Jeno sits off to your right, and Jaehyun takes the spot next to Haechan.

Jaemin leans in towards the circle, appearing invested as he asks, "What game are we playing?" His gaze travels up and down Lisa's body, and he licks his lips. You roll your eyes; of course, she was the one he was after tonight. Too bad her eyes were on Jeno.

She gives a short giggle before replying, “How about seven minutes in heaven?”

A low murmur ripples through the circle but affirming head nods set the game in motion.

Honestly, you find the game awkward and childish, something played in your early high school years, but maybe the universe and luck would be on your side tonight.

Wasn’t the whole point of tonight to get into Haechans pants? This silly little game was the perfect opportunity.

He seemed to be on the same wavelength because one glance and you see him making kissy faces directed at you.

Why the fuck was he so weird?

And why did you want to crawl across the circle and kiss him?

“Great, can we use that bottle Jaemin?” Lisa asks, and he’s quick to shove it in the middle. He must really want her to come home with him tonight if he’s giving up his alcohol that easily – or the bottle at least.

Lisa takes a finger and spins the bottle, the handle flying around so fast it looked like a blur. You hold your breath, silently praying it doesn’t land on you. You could probably hear a pen drop in the room (plus the thumping bass coming up through the floorboards).

It comes to a standstill, pointing at a random girl you’ve never seen before. She looks nervous, but that was to be expected, right?

Lisa spins the bottle again and you thank your lucky stars when it lands on another girl in the circle.

Two girls down, about 12 of you left.

The next few rounds follow a similar pattern, with two unfamiliar people being chosen and then awkwardly leaving the circle. At some point Jaemin and a blonde headed bimbo filter off to surely fuck.

The game starts to feel pointless, but then the bottle lands on you.

Haechan immediately perks up from being previously slumped against a pillow. The bottle of Smirnoff by his side was slowly draining, and you could tell he was feeling it a bit. A rosy blush spread itself on his cheeks and his eyes shined bright. An eager look crosses his face when Lisa tips the bottle into spinning.

Whoever it landed on was going to be shoved in a tiny closet with you for the next seven minutes. Time ticked slow, your eyes following it’s every move.

Spinning.

And spinning.

And stop.

“No fucking way.” Haechan pouts.

Your eyebrows raise, a short, disbelieving laugh rushing past your lips. The bottle has landed between Jaehyun and Haechan, more towards the latter, but nearly dead set between.

“Well, who is it then?” Haechan urges, pushing himself up on his knees, “Cause it’s more towards me, so I think it’s only fair…”

“Maybe by a single degree.” Jaehyun argues, locking his eyes with yours and giving a lopsided smile.

It strikes you as odd that Jaehyun, who you're pretty sure has a girlfriend (Jeno had mentioned her once or twice), is even participating in the game. Despite this, he seems to be making eyes at you, smiling with deep dimples and winking. You just stare back at him, causing the tips of his ears to flush red. You weren’t going to be the cause of a scandal if he was, in fact, still dating that girl.

So the dilemma (that wasn’t really a dilemma) dawns on you. Your best friend or the boy who (maybe) had a girlfriend? You contemplate storming out of the room and forfeiting the game – but what was the fun in that? And anyways, Haechan looked like he was getting antsy.

“Come on Hyuck.” you grumble, pushing yourself up off the dusty floor and slipping out into the semi-crowded hallway. The boy eagerly follows on your heel until you’re shouldering a random door and slipping into a dark room.

It feels much bigger than the closet you were envisioning, though where was the fucking light? Both of you search the walls to no avail. Faintly, you see the outline of a bed and walk over to it, dropping down on the sunken mattress – Haechan following your lead.

“What a coincidence that it’s you and me. I mean, I knew you wanted to fuck me, but seriously, how did you rig a spin the bottle game?”

In this moment you’re glad for the darkness enveloping the room – then he wouldn’t see the shock and embarrassment flooding your face.

Defensively, you shove his chest, “Shut up. I didn’t rig the game.”

The smirk is almost evident in his tone, “Oh, but you do wanna fuck me?”

“No – Haechan I wanted to play a game. Of course fate would give me your ass.”

“Maybe fate wants us to hook up.” he murmurs.

I’d agree with fate then, you think.

A million thoughts flood your mind in a millisecond. How convenient it was that you were stuck in an empty room, with a bed, with Hyuck – with a shirtless Hyuck. The dim lighting outlines the contours of his chest, and you can feel yourself clenching your thighs together for what felt like the umpteenth time.

“Would you like that?” You whisper, slightly leaning closer to him. He wasn’t that far away. Maybe a foot at most.

“Is the sky blue?” He retorts, ever so slightly leaning into you too.

You roll your eyes, “Is that a trick question – because it’s nighttime right now and the sky is black.”

“I don’t know, maybe you should kiss me and find out.”

His voice is lower than normal, which surprises you. But not as much as the statement. You knew he was like this – forward and flirty. Though it’s different when you actually want to reciprocate.

Time slows down and the electricity of the moment surrounds you two. His lips are inching towards your own, long, slender fingers grabbing your thighs.

Fuck, it’s happening – Everything you’ve been dreaming about for weeks on end. How did this happen so fast?

You can smell the alcohol on his breath – wondering if he’ll taste sweet like brandy.

“Hyuck…” you whisper, “ I-“

Light and sound flood the room, startling the fuck outta you and making you jump three feet back into the headboard.

“Oh shit –” the partygoer curses.

The girl on his arm giggles, “’m sorry. Didn’t mean to barge in on you two!” They slam the door, and the muffled sounds of the party bring you back to the present.

Yellow spots cloud your vision as you fumble to stand up, almost tripping over what you can assume to be a backpack.

You swallow thickly, “Let’s go back downstairs.”

“I’ll meet you down there.” Haechan whispers, one hand running through his hair, “You go on ahead.”

Without another word, you slip into the hallway and slink down the stairs – into the hands of hundreds of drunk college kids. You see Jaemin taking shots and Jeno smoking it up with Renjun.

What the fuck just happened.

And why did I ruin it.

After a good twenty minutes away from each other, you realize he was the only person who you cared to hang out with. So, you found him utterly intoxicated on the kitchen floor and forced him to dance with you.

Well really you just forced him off the kitchen floor which he really didn’t want to leave, but once he was up and moving, he took you by hand and made the night worthwhile.

Now two hours later, with most of the alcohol Jeno had supplied gone, all you can think about is sucking Haechans dick.

It’s because of the way he danced (and smelled, and looked, and…). His hands reach out and greedily grab at your waist, fingers twisting through the empty belt loops of your jeans. A bit of the paint he had on was smudged against you, thanks to him pulling you into a bear hug earlier in the night.

He was drunk, and it made him extra touchy. Though you didn’t mind, in fact, you welcomed it now that your resolve was slipping. So, when he pushes you against the wall, one hand held high over your head, his other circling your jaw, it’s no surprise that your heartbeat goes wild. A blush rises hot on your face; his eyes finding yours and piquing with dull amusement.

“I gotta tell you a secret-” he slurs, swaying in your arms. He thinks for a minute before putting a hand over his mouth, “Wait, I can’t tell you.” When you don’t respond, instead, electing to stare at him in amusement, his lips jut out into a pout, “Why don’t you like me?”

One of your hands pushes against his slick with sweat chest, “I do like you?” Your breathing becomes labored when his lips pull back in a sloppy grin.

“You like me? You like me!!” Haechan teeters a bit to the left, almost falling into another couple that were vigorously making out, “They need to get a room… we need to get a room.”

We had a room.

“We need to get a room?” You question, eyes widening when he leans in so close he’s only an inch away from kissing you.

“Can I kiss you?”

It feels like the room comes to a crescendo, every sound clashing yet becoming silent at the same time. All you can think about is his mouth and how pretty and pink his lips are. How it would be heaven to meld into the strong grasp of your best friend. How the constant nights of intimate dreams of him weren’t enough to satisfy you. How you should have taken him up on his offer in that damn room.

How you wanted to go to that damn bathroom now.

But this was wrong.

The wrong time, wrong place, wrong everything.

You were drunk, he was more than drunk, and surely that would affect whether you thought he fucked the best.

From around his shoulder, you spot Jeno staring at you with a beer in his hand – so much for staying sober. He’s smirking, slightly chuckling, and cocking his eyebrows at you as if asking, ‘you gonna kiss him?’

“Haechan.”

The boy has gone from being semi coherent to humming some sort of song that wasn’t even close to the one that was playing.

“Haechan!” you shake his shoulder in an attempt to snap him out of the stupor, and suddenly he stands up tall.

“Y/N, I missed you!!! What are you doing here?” It was like he was seeing you for the first time.

He was too drunk to function. You should have expected as much, but you’re still slightly disappointed that you wouldn’t be able to go forth with your plan.

You sigh and grab his arm, the disappointment nearly sobering you up, “Let’s go find Jeno and get you home, okay?”

His eyes go frantic, “We can’t forget Jaemin! We have to find Jaemin!!!”

“Don’t worry Hyuck, I’d leave you here sooner than I would him.”

Maybe then I wouldn’t have the urge to ride you on the frats sofa.

“Meanie.”

Steaming bags of takeout hang off your arm as you fumble to push your way through the unusually small dorm door.

“Hyuck! Jaemin!” you yell, hoping one of them would dart out of their room and help you with the load of cheap food you were threatening to drop on the ground. You shouldn’t be surprised when all is silent except for the smash of controller buttons and Haechans frustrated screech.

You wade through the mess that nearly makes you gag – piles of clothes, dirty socks and mud caked shoes. Books and pages of lecture notes litter the ground accompanied with crushed RedBull cans – evidence that Haechan did indeed leave his room at some point.

“Yo, you really need to clean this shit up.” you pantomime throwing up and toss the bags of takeout on Haechans dark blue bedspread that was actually made for once.

His back is to you, eyes trained on the video game he was playing, giving you a half-hearted grunt to acknowledge what you said. The too-big headset threatens to engulf his head, nearly sliding off as he jolts forward in the gaming chair.

“Fuck! Fuck! No… no… don’t… SHIT!” Exasperation floods his tone once the screen turns completely red and his character returns to the main lobby. “You guys suck ass.”

Without hearing their response, he shuts off his monitor and spins around to face you, who was patiently waiting on his bed, “Sorry. I woulda got the door for ya, but…” he gestures behind himself.

“It’s fine.” you mumble.

His eyes travel from your face and to the short ass skirt that was slung over your hips. Immediately your face heats up. Why was this awkward? Does he even remember what happened last night? How you almost kissed in some random frat bros room? Or how he had you pressed up against the wall, asking to kiss you. Does he remember the drive home? How he laid in your lap, drunkenly massaging your thighs? Surely he had to remember you tucking him into bed with the promise of takeout tomorrow night?

But when you look him in the eyes, you just see your friend eager to eat – not someone who you nearly fucked last night.

You clear your throat, “Um, where’s Jaemin?”

Haechan shrugs and starts sifting through the boxes of rice and pork cutlets, “He left early this morning. Said he wouldn’t be back until tomorrow. Bet that means he’s going to get some pussy.” He takes a bite of rice and speaks through the mouthful, “Twenty four hours though? That’s a long ass time for him.”

You snort and take the box of rice he was gesturing towards you, “Nah, that’s light work for Jaem. As long as he lets us know he’s alive, I think a sex bender might be best for him.”

“You know, he’s still mad that you wouldn’t let him leave with that girl last night.” Haechans laugh rings through the room, making you smile. He had such a pretty voice.

“He was drunker than the both of us combined.” You tear the end of a soy sauce packet and dump it into the container in your lap. “Speaking of, what do you remember from last night? Did you, like, totally black out?”

“Not much, just that you were coming over today.” He says through another mouthful of food.

Great, so he didn’t remember anything. How convenient for you.

“Well… you ended up peeing on this guy when we were leaving because you missed the bush.”

“I missed the bush?”

“The whole bush.”

“Oh my god.”

“I know.”

The food was long gone, with empty containers flooding his trashcan that begged to be taken out.

You were bored.

Here you were, laying on his bed with a lowcut shirt and a fucking miniskirt, and he was back to playing his game.

For the past hour you tried to get him to join you, but to no avail. Who knew that your first target would be the hardest to fuck? How can you accurately judge how good he fucked if he wouldn’t even lay on the bed with you?

One last chance or you were leaving.

This was an all or nothing moment.

“I’m horny.” It was a declaration. A statement so bold, he turns ever-so-slightly towards you and raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

You scoff, “You heard me. I need to fuck someone or something.”

The squeak of his chair rings through the uncomfortably silent room as he adjusts himself. What was he thinking? Was he disgusted? Flustered? Did he feel the same?

“Well now that you mention it…” he swallows thickly. Was it hot in his room? Could you feel it too?

You push yourself up into a sitting position, “Come help me.” His dark brown eyes flutter, the tops of his cheeks dusting a light pink color, but he stays silent. "No smart reply? No sexual comments? Did I really fluster the Lee Haechan?"

He gets up from his gaming chair, almost toppling over in the process and spilling the can of Redbull he was clutching onto for dear life. "I am not flustered. " The mattress dips under his weight as he gets comfortable next to you, his gaze falling to the lowcut shirt you wore, "Can’t I touch them if you’re serious?”

His bottom lip juts out in a pout, obviously joking around (your boobs always seemed to be the butt of his sexual comments), but even still, you find yourself removing your shirt before you can think.

The look on his face is priceless, wide eyes almost bugging out of his skull, “I was kidding! Jesus Christ Y/N, put your shirt back on!” his voice has somehow pitched up two octaves, obviously taken aback, but for some reason his eyes remain open and transfixed. It looks as if he’s almost salivating, especially when he watches your nipples perk up from how cool he kept his room.

Reaching out a hand, you clasp his wrist and bring it closer to your body, “But I’m serious.” The bewildered expression never left his face, even when you had him cup his palm around your breast, and then when he took matters into his own hands and gave you a fair squeeze, which made you giggle.

“Am I dreaming? This must be a dream?”

You hop up on your knees, making your tits bounce in the process which drops Haechan’s jaw, “Not a dream, very much reality.”

Slowly and sexily, you crawl towards his seated position beside you, “I want you Haechan.” You breathe the words out slowly, giving him time to comprehend what the fuck his best friend just said.

Confusion flits across his face and he hesitates, “But Y/N…”

“But what? I want you. I want you to fuck me.” His pupils blew wide at the confession.

“Y/N… I can’t.”

Disappointment fills your heart and deflates your ego in a millisecond. You should have known. How could you be so stupid? Of course, he didn’t want to fuck you. You were best friends for fucks sake. It would ruin everything. Why did you even try? Because you were drunk and horny the night the challenge was first brought up? Pathetic, really.

Haechan must have seen the worry and doubt fill your eyes because all of a sudden, he’s grabbing your shoulders, “No, It’s… It’s not because I don’t want to,” His eyes wash over your half naked body, and he licks his lips, “Trust me, I want to…but I’m…I’m.”

Leaning in ever so slightly you whisper, “You’re what? Scared?”

It was a taunt, a tease, a challenge, and he knew it, but he just shakes his head, “Y/N… I’m a virgin.”

Now it was your turn to be shocked, completely taken aback by this new revelation, “You’re a… virgin?”

Pink tints his cheeks and collarbones peeking through his oversized t-shirt, and he hangs his head to avoid eye contact, “Yeah, I’ve never had… never had sex.”

“But you always say –”

“I talk a big game, okay?” The reply rushes from his lips, embarrassment kicking him in the ass, “Yeah I’ve gotten head before, and I’ve eaten a few girls out, but I’ve never had actual sex. It’s… just never happened I guess.”

Here you were, trying to seduce not only your best friend, but your best friend that has just told you he was a virgin. You were trying to steal a virgins innocence. How fucked could you really be?

To be fair, he always acted like he got hella pussy, you argue with yourself.

“Jaemin knows.” He mutters, as if it was of any relevance to the situation.

“Well,” You start, sitting back on your heels, “Here I am shirtless, asking you to fuck me…” His eyes flicker up and lock with yours, “What are you gonna do about it?”

Another challenge.

He did well with challenges, and this time was no different.

You continue, “Unless you believe the ‘only have sex after marriage’ bullshit –”

“Absolutely not.”

Greedy eyes search for an answer on his face, but there’s nothing, only a permanent blush and frantic furrow brows, “Okay, then do you wanna go back to gaming?”

“…No.”

He still isn’t advancing, just sitting with his hands dropped into his lap and looking at you with his wide doe eyes, “Then what?”

You sit there, watching as Haechan fidgets with his hands, clearly nervous about what comes next. The sexual tension that hangs between you two feels like a thick fog. You want him, and you can tell that he wants you too, but the knowledge that he’s a virgin puts a damper on things.

You don't want to be the one to take his virginity. That's a big fucking responsibility, and it's not something that you take lightly. You start to wonder if maybe you should just call it a night and go home. But then Haechan speaks up, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and you turn to look at him, really look at him for the first time since you arrived. He looks vulnerable, and you can see the fear in his eyes. But you can also see the determination. He knows what he wants, and he's not going to let anything stand in his way.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. You know what you want too, but you also know that this is a big deal. You can't just jump into things without thinking them through. "I don't know if I'm the right person for that, Haechan," you say finally. "Taking someone's virginity is a big deal. It's not something to be taken lightly."

Haechan nods, his eyes still locked with yours. "I know. But I trust you, Y/N." His words make your heart skip a beat, and you can feel your cheeks heating up.

"Okay," you say finally. "Okay, we can do this.”

Somehow, the tables had turned on you; and this was getting a lot sappier than you had anticipated.

The awkwardness settles back into the room, Haechan staring at you with his doe eyes, the nervousness flitting about his delicate features.

It’s a beat – a short pause before he speaks so low you almost miss it, “You know I want to fuck you.”

“Then what’s stopping you?”

Maybe he’d give you a logical answer and you’d understand; put your shirt back on and let him get back to his video games while you silently scrolled Instagram.

But when was he ever logical?

And when were you ever one to back down?

Faster than you can register, he’s pushing your shoulders backwards until you fall breathlessly against his pillow. He climbs over top of you, his usual goofy smirk replaced with an intensity you both had felt the night before at the frat house. “Nothing’s stopping me.” His breath tickles your cheeks, “But I can’t tell if you’re fucking serious or taking a joke way too far.” A scoff rumbles in his chest, “I’ve damn near bared my soul to you tonight.”

“Not a joke-” you try to argue, but he talks over you.

“Ya know, just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean you can treat me like a plaything.” his head lolls to the side, “Well I mean if you wanted to, you could – but that’s not the point..” He sighs, pressing his face closer to yours, so that you were almost nose to nose. One more inch and you’d be kissing him, “I’m trying to say that if this is a joke… I’m sorry, but I’m gonna fuck you.”

“I – Are you sure about this? You won’t regret anything in the morning?”

He scoffs, “Have you not been listening to me when I speak to you? I’ve been wanting this for ages,” Eyes, half-lidded with desire, wash over your exposed chest, “I’m not gonna regret a damn thing.”

The butterflies in your stomach flutter uncontrollably when Haechan dips his head and captures your lips in a kiss. All you can taste is the fizziness of the redbull he’d been drinking earlier, and something undeniably him. It was urgent and wet, lips sliding over yours to deepen the kiss, dribbles of spit smearing on your cheeks. He was messy.

“No regrets.” You solidify, breath hitching in your throat when his hands cup your breasts – his thumbs flicking over your nipples.

He groans, hips desperately pushing against you, “Let me eat you out.” he asks, though it wasn’t really a question because he starts to lower himself down your figure; pressing wet kisses to your chest. First it’s your collarbone, then the swell of your breasts, all the way down until he hovered right above your skirt.

Your head is reeling with how forward he was, “You’re kinda bold for a vir-”

He slaps a rough hand over your jaw, “If you even so much as utter that word, I’ll shove my cock so far down your throat you won’t be able to speak for a week.” Tauntingly, he quirks an eyebrow as if to dare you, “And anyways,” he continues, moving his hand up to ruffle your hair, “Just because I’ve never stuck my dick between a woman’s thighs doesn’t mean I don’t know how to please one.”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow, in shock or contemplation of his words, you weren’t sure.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that baby,” Lust drips from his words like venom, the pet name rolling off his tongue a little too certainly, “Sitting up here playing video games has made me exceptionally good with my hands,” he smirks, “and I guess I’m naturally good with my tongue… I don’t know, you’ll have to tell me, yeah?”

Furiously, you nod your head, eyes wide and marveling at this side of Haechan. The one slightly out of breath and bursting with the need to taste you. He was hot. More so than you were expecting. You should pay closer attention sometimes.

He doesn’t waste time undoing your skirt. Instead, he pushes it up until it bunched at your waist, and pretty pink panties were the only thing blocking him from doing what he wanted. Hooking his fingers into the waistband, he pulls them down agonizingly slow. “So pretty.” he whispers.

Without hesitation, he flattens his tongue and licks up your slit, a low rumble building in his chest. You tasted exactly like he had imagined.

The contact makes you gasp, and you fumble around for something to hold onto – choosing his hair as the only viable option. One tug and he’s whining against your clit, hips pressing into the bed unbeknownst to you.

“Y-you like hair pulling?” You question, doing it again to test the waters. He doesn’t answer, just groans against your pussy, tongue swirling around the sensitive bundle of nerves. Strong arms hook underneath your hips and pull hard, until you’re sat right up against his face.

“Hyuck.” you whimper, legs shaking. He was relentless, nosing your clit and fucking you with his tongue – all but lapping at the embarrassing amount of arousal wetting the inside of your thighs. “Hyuck!”

He perks up, lips puffy and jaw shining in the dim light of his bedroom, “What?”

You feel almost shy at his stare, a blush settling over your cheeks and burning hot at the back of your neck, “D-don’t wanna cum just yet.” You stutter out.

Surprisingly, he rolls his eyes, “Let me stretch you out a little bit, okay baby?” There’s no time for you to respond because two of his fingers press against your entrance and slide in with ease. Simultaneously he dives back in, teeth slightly grazing your clit.

“Fuck!” Your back arches up off the bed, hips rolling against his face. His fingers pump into you, the stretch leaving your thighs shaking.

“See baby, all done,” He slips his fingers out and gives you one final suckle, “God, I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Words are unattainable right now, head still reeling from how fucking good he was with his tongue. That’s where he’d gotten the most practice, but you weren’t expecting that. It was what – less than two minutes? Yet you were already fucked out, body buzzing with excitement. If that was just the beginning, what was to come?

While lost in your thoughts, Haechan rid himself of his shirt and shimmied his shorts down.

The video didn’t do him justice.

Yeah, he looked decently big on his phone screen, but after weeks of contemplation, you could only assume it was the angle.

Oh, how wrong you were.

His cock stood thick and heavy, proudly slapping his lower stomach when he moves to throw his clothes on the floor. It was red and leaking pre-cum, and your mouth waters. Oh, how you wanted to hop up and stuff him down your throat. You wanted to milk him until he was shaking and sobbing for you to stop.

But another part wanted him in you, now.

Deep lines of muscle were etched into his torso – contracting when he leant down to kiss you again. You can taste yourself on his lips, but that wasn’t what caught your attention. Haechan was whimpering; all but shaking against you. The vibrations shot straight into your veins like a drug and when he pulls back and sits on his knees, you almost moan.

You are no better than a man.

Watching the way he touches his body, so soft and careful; tugging at his cock impatiently while his eyes are transfixed on the way your pussy clenches around nothing – it sends a desperate signal down between your thighs.

“Enough!” You whine, “Want you in me.”

His trademark smirk appears on his face, “Okay baby… but..,” he chews on his bottom lip in hesitation, “… I don’t know how long I’ll be able to last..”

“I don’t care!” You wail, annoyed, “Fuck me.”

“So demanding,” He huffs, hands fumbling to push your thighs apart. Looking to you for reassurance that everything was alright, he appeared somewhat uncertain and hesitant.

“It’s okay, ” you breathe, gasping when he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance. “Hold my hand!” It was a statement to make him feel surer of himself, but deep down, you knew it was because you were just as nervous.

Shakily, his hand slides into yours and pushes it against the pillow next to your head. He takes a deep breath. This is silly, he chides himself, just stick it in! You’ve been dreaming about this forever! Be a fucking man.

Slowly, he pushes himself fully into you while still maintaining eye contact.

“Fuck!” you both curse at the same time. His eyes flicker in the back of his head, lips trembling when he bottoms out, now sheathed inside your warm cunt. It’s taking everything in him not to cum right there – and you know it too. He stays like that for a minute longer – not moving, just processing.

“Hyuck…” You whimper, resting your legs on his back. He mumbles a mhm, too focused on steadying his breathing, getting his bearings, finding the will to actually fuck you. “Hyuck, you have to move.”

“M-maybe we should use a c-condom.” He stutters, eyelashes fluttering and tangling together. The interlocked grip on your hands falters when you rut your hips up against him. “F-fuck, we need to use a condom.” His breathing is labored as he tries to gather everything he’s feeling and seeing at once. The way your pussy sucks him in, squeezing around his length just fucking right, the feeling of your nipples brushing his chest every time he bottoms out, and the wet kisses being pressed to the juncture between his neck and collarbone. It was making his head dizzy, and he can feel himself already about to – “I’m gonna cum if you keep, fuck – y/n, stop kissing my n-neck.”

Lost in the satisfying pleasure of him stretching you out, you hadn’t even realized you were kissing him – everywhere. Licking at the place just below his earlobe, suckling bruises into the honey gold skin of his throat, and nipping at his jaw. And every time your lips or tongue grazed him, he shallowly thrusted into you – too caught up in the sensations to get a steady rhythm.

You purse your lips in a pout, pulling your head back to rest on the pillow, and stare up at him, “Why stop if you like it.”

“Good p-point.” He stutters out, burying his head into the crook of your neck. Maybe that would hide the pink tinging his cheeks – the embarrassment. Or maybe it was because he wanted to be enveloped by you completely. “Fuck,” He groans, his cock dragging against your walls with a concentrated pace – like he wanted you to feel every inch of him. And if that was the case, he was succeeding.

You mewl and moan every time he slips out of you, just to fuck into you deeper than before. Time doesn’t pass, you don’t register anything but the burning sensation in the pit of your stomach – one that catches you off guard. As you arch your body into his touch, your mind begins to cloud.

Words of praise spill from your lips uncontrollably, "You're doing so well," you murmur, and he whimpers. “So good Hyuckie,” You moan, feeling his head still buried in your neck. “Keep going, baby.” The encouragement rips a broken sob from his throat, but he keeps driving his cock between your legs. He couldn’t stop – how could he? You were like his own personal brand of heroin.

His voice comes out muffled when speaks, “Want you to- fuck.. need you to...” His fingers are trembling, jaw slacked as he forgets his train of thought, “Slow down, wait – I need you to, y/n.. oh fuck this.” a rush of air tickles your body as Haechan tightens his hold and flips you over; worming his way underneath your body so that your legs were now slotted over his waist, cock still pushing into you. “There we go,” he mutters.

The action sends your head spinning, and a squeal rips from your throat. “Woah!”

“Woah!” he mocks, bullying his cock into you at such a fast pace, you were battling to keep your balance. His hands held onto your hips so tightly, there were bound to be a few fingerprint shaped bruises tomorrow morning. But that didn’t matter – not when he was burying his length into you again and again and again, abusing your g-spot to the point you’re babbling nonsense.

Your thighs are quivering on either side of him, struggling to keep yourself bouncing on his cock. Equally shaky hands pepper his chest in an attempt to hold onto something as the fire in your stomach burns hotter. Every whimper, every sob, every moan that falls past his lips is like another burning ember – shooting and twisting through your veins.

“G-gonna cum, Hyuck, gonna – “ you mewl, clawing at his collarbones and shoulders.

A harsh slap lands on your ass as he continues to piston his hips up underneath you. Just hearing you say the words edges him even closer to his own orgasm, “Please baby, cum – shit, cum on my cock, you can do it.” He groans through gritted teeth. Another smack lands, “God, I know you can do it.”

Your eyes roll back as you completely fall apart – he never stopped fucking into you. Not even when you all but collapsed on top of him, heartbeat erratic and gasping for breath. Not even when you begged him to slow down, begged him to give you a chance to recover, maybe get into a different position.

“Just give me one second baby, fuck, I still need to cum,” Like a lightbulb went off, he perks, “Wait- where do you want me t-to cum,” He’s rocking his body into yours now, sweat rolling down his temple with the exertion of holding back. “An-Answer! I can’t hold it anymore you feel too fucking good.”

Swirled in your own euphoria, you barely register his words, yet you manage to whimper against his neck, “Cum in me Hyuckie, please, I’m on the pill.”

The permission is all he needs, but the nickname is what sends him straight into a head high that has him burying his cock deep in you and releasing. Strong arms wrap around your torso and pull you against his shaking body while spurts of cum flood your pussy. He sounds exactly like he did in the video he showed you a few weeks ago – like he was sobbing with relief. Whining and whimpering, lolling his head side to side as he fucks the last of his cum deep into you.

He tries not to move, he tries really fucking hard, but every time you twitched, it squeezed around him again and again – curses flying from his body as he tried to squirm away. He slips out of you quickly, cum smearing on his belly and all over your thighs, “That was…”

You can hear his heartbeat – almost as erratic as yours is, and he’s puffing air, trying to catch an even breath. Both of you are sticky and tired – worn the fuck out. If you tried to push yourself off of him, you think you might topple over, so you don’t. You stay locked in his embrace, listening to the way his breathing slows and chest thumps.

“That was what?”

He runs a hand through his hair, “Everything I’ve dreamt of.”

Giggling, you snuggle closer to him. Who knew he’d be the type to sweet talk after sex. With how much he boasted and teased, you thought he’d be more… you don’t know… arrogant? You liked this side of him though.

Ah, shut up! you think to yourself, you’re not falling in love with him, so stop.

Haechan was a friend no matter if he did just fuck your brains out.

“Gonna go to the bathroom.” you mumble. Anything to get away from him and the swirls of ooey-gooey feelings.

Clambering off of him proved to be easier than you thought earlier, and the wobble to the bathroom was only slightly embarrassing. You thank God for privacy when you shut the door behind you.

As you look at your reflection in the mirror, you realize how much of a mess you are. Your hair is disheveled, mascara smudged and streaking, and your lipstick is smeared. Dark colored hickies scattered across your chest and collarbones. Despite this, you feel satisfied and content (Regardless of any stupid feelings that might be lingering).

Yet if Hyuck were to sneak in the bathroom behind you and beg for another round, you’d give it to him, no matter if the original challenge was a one and done kind of deal.

Your eyes widen into saucers… the challenge.

It was actually done – or at least partially.

You smirk.

Challenge 1/3 complete.

Maybe you should have stayed the night, but you were gone before the sun peeked over the tree line.

Haechan was still faintly snoring when you had slipped out from underneath the covers, and he only slightly stirred when you accidentally banged your toe on his gaming chair. His parted lips, and tinged cheeks made him look like an innocent angel.

One that you corrupted.

As you hurriedly walk back to your dorm building, you can’t help but feel a little bit of guilt fluttering about your stomach.

“Was this really a one-time thing?” he had asked right before his eyes had fluttered closed.

You had sighed, fidgeting with a thread on his comforter, “I don’t know Hyuck… maybe… I – I don’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Perhaps his shoulders had deflated with disappointment at your response, but you’d like to think he was just tired.

“Okay, let’s pretend it never happened then. Everything can go back to normal and… and if you want, I’ll be here to satisfy you again.” He had grinned then, although rather grim.

“Deal.”

You shoulder your dorm door and drop your bag on the kitchen table before grabbing a water out of the fridge. Thirstily gulping, you realize that even though it was his first time, he knew how to wear you out.

Points for that, you think.

You quietly slip into your room and take a seat at your desk after tossing the crushed plastic bottle into the trashcan. This is the moment you've been waiting for - a chance to rate the very first boy in the challenge. You grab a stray notebook from a stack nearby, open it to a fresh page, and begin.

Points for doing good his first time…Points for multiple positions…Points for eating you out first…Points for being whiny…Points for being eager…

There wasn’t really a system for your rating, but you take a satisfied look at the number and nod your head.

Congratulation Hyuck, you’ve received a 7.4/10, you think.

Despite it being his first time, he did exceptionally well. Who else could have lasted as long as he did, said the things he did, or fucked the way he did. Slowly, you find yourself slipping back into the memories, a play-by-play from start to finish – until a ping from your pocket drags you out.

Your heart leaps up in your throat.

What if it was him? What if he was asking why you left?

When you pull your phone out from your back pocket, you sigh in relief. It was just Jaemin.

You toss your phone onto your desk and slump against the chair. Jaemin didn’t press the question of why you were up… and hopefully he didn’t say anything during breakfast.

Pushing yourself upright, you dance through the laundry strewn across your floor and into the bathroom.

Despite what you said, you also had to wash the sex smell away. God, you were becoming just like Jaemin. Up at the ass crack of dawn to shower off cum and sweat and spit. Unexpectedly, you grip the shower curtain as a thought bounces around the inside of your skull.

Na Jaemin was just getting his dick wet… with Yeji, of all people. One of his recurring fwb situations.. But.. he was fucking her.

The video he had showed you the first night flashes through your brain. His cock thick and proud, pushing into the girl so fluidly, so rhythmically, so intensely. Until she squirted and he laughed. He had fucking laughed. You remember what he had said, “God you’re so fucking hot. NaNa did that, didn’t he? Mhm…come here pretty girl.”

And even though Haechan had pounded you into the next week, you feel yourself clenching around nothing.

Don’t worry Jaemin, your turn is next.

did you like it? if you did, consider leaving me a like, a reblog, a review, or some feedback in my askbox :)

A. NOTE | big thank you to lou, @peachjaem00, for helping me get over my writers block for this fic.. and for just being fucking awesome! i love you <3

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a-substantial-trash-pile · 9 months

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Studio TV Solutions presents Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware (2020) [not a real movie]. A movie with a totally improv’d script starring a moltey crew who are sure to give you a rip-roarin’ good time!

anyway hi new au just dropped. i’m calling it HLVRAIM. it’s HLVRAI but it’s a blockbuster movie and the science team are played by actors. i have many thought on backstories n stuff that i will stick under a “read more” here otherwise this post will be hella long on people’s dashes. 👇👍 pls care about this i thought so hard and much

Half Life VR but the AI are Self-Aware was put out by Studio TV Solutions in 2020 and destroyed the box office with how fun it was and how well the cast played off one another. The cast was given a general outline for the script with the goal for it to be mostly improv.

Gordon Freeman: Mannie Flores (Dominican American, age 28, he/him) - Popular Youtuber/Twitch streamer (“Radi0Mann”). Got offered the role in HLVRAI thanks to the creative things he’s done in his Youtube/Twitch career. This is his first “official” acting gig. He was pretty starstruck at first, but then as he got to know everyone, he realized they’re all a bunch of dorks (affectionate). - Started off as a gaming channel, but then started branching off into various creative endeavors as he got more popular. He still plays games too though. - One of the things Mannie did in his internet career that hit the mainstream was when he wrote, directed, starred in, and filmed his own movie in just 2 weeks because he failed a bet with his audience. Except the movie was actually really good and funny and heartfelt (i want to say it was about “a man who got left behind on earth after everyone else was raptured because god literally forgot about him”, but i think the concept might’ve been done already). - Met Benji through HLVRAI. They hit it off and now they’re dating. They tried to keep it secret for a while but Mannie had a slip-up during a stream that sort of blew it out of the water.

Benrey: Benji Song (Japanese/Chinese, age 30, he/they) - Started off as a film sound designer in the industry, then through a series of silly willy little events—possibly even shenanigans—got roped into a role in a passion indie film that became wildly acclaimed and flung him into the spotlight. Been an actor ever since, but isn’t the most proactive in taking jobs much to their agent’s annoyance. People never know where he’ll pop up next. Sometimes Benji will sneak in sound designer work behind their agent’s back. - Honestly likes background work more because everyone’s got these expectations of them as an actor that they feel pressured to meet. But he’s also afraid of disappointing people. He’s working on it. - Met their partner Mannie through HLVRAI. Totally was a fan of his streams/videos beforehand though. When they mention that, Mannie gets flustered. - Does music as a hobby. Electronic stuff mostly—enjoys mashing together all sorts of sounds and trying to make them work. After HLVRAI, Mannie’s streams gets cool new music that’s made by somebody going by “johnwicklover1994.” wink

Harold Coomer: Hau’oli “Hau” Kaleo-Kirchhoff (Hawaiian/Samoan, age 66, he/him) - Old musician who’s supposed to be retired but once in a while will release a song or even do a concert (but nothing crazy). - Hau’oli is pronounced [hh-ow-oh-lee], but he also goes by “Hau” for the haoles’ sake. :) Kaleo is [kah-leh-oh]. also Hau’oli sounds a little bit like the name Holly so that’s a fun coincidence i didn’t realize until later. - Most of his music is chill island tunes but he has been known to dabble in rock and jazz. - Married to Mose (been together for 30 years and counting).

Bubby: Mose Kaleo-Kirchhoff (German, age 69 [nice], xe/him) - Veteran actor—been in the acting industry for a long time. One of his more well-known roles was in a popular sci-fi series. - Married to Hau’oli (they got married the moment it was legal). - i went with a name that started with “M” cuz when Gordon first asks Bubby for his name, xe’s like, “mmm Bubby.” and i headcanon it’s because Mose was about to say xir own name and had to swerve last minute and the thing his brain resorted to was Bubby lol.

Tommy Coolatta: Luis Tanglao (Filipino, age 37, he/they) - Child star who dropped out of the industry when he hit his teens and then came back years later as a comedian. He has material about how fucked up being a child star was. Will only take acting roles if it interests them. - They don’t care about how the public/media sees him. He’ll speak his mind and call out BS when he sees it. Interviewing them can be a war zone. - Hosts a popular podcast with some buds they discuss things like video games, their lives, news, etc. Just shooting the shit. - Sunkist is their actual dog and she modeled for the png photo that was used. Her name is actually Biko. She is a very good girl. <3

Darnold Pepper: Sage Haven (African American, age 40, he/her/they) - Famous cooking show host who gets offered roles in movies. Got popular by how unconventional her meals and cooking methods are and how funny he is. - Has had multiple food/cooking/baking shows over the years. Every competition-based one they’ve had focused more on good vibes, fun, and encouraging one another rather than drama. One show involved people competing to see who could make the best full course meal with the catch being they could only cook everything in a microwave. Many microwaves perished. - Changed their name to Sage Haven during their transition. They chose it because it reflects his passion and also is a play on the phrase “safe haven”, which is what she wants to be to others. - He has an adoptive daughter named Kit. She helped them think up bits and jokes. She also had to help explain what Half-Life was.

haven’t gotten to gman and forzen’s actors yet unfortunately. thinking gman’s actor could be a talk show host? because that would be funny. anyway thanks for humoring me on my shenanigans. bye

#hlvrai #frenrey #gordon feetman #benrey #tommy coolatta #dr coomer #dr bubby #darnold pepper #hlvrai boomer #hlvrai au #hlvraim

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ktaerssoi · 5 months

Text

blabber mouth

summary: the multiple times you were caught having an interaction a little more than friendly with paige.

paige bueckers x fem!reader

(582)

notes: not proof read sorryyyy. also sorry for disappearing for the past three days i was preoccupied. anyway i actually like this i hope im not wrong. i keep watching this one caitlin clark edit someone save me she is so fine. - kate

you had been known to the fans of UConn women's basketball, usually hanging out with the girls. you had met them through azzi, the both of you majoring in communications, and eventually, you had been indoctrinated into the team. you had grown close to many of the girls, befriending everyone. and maybe even going on a few dates with a special girl you had the privilege of meeting.

that being said, it wasn't common for you to be seen in tiktoks or lives. that's why fans went borderline insane when they saw you leaning your head on paige's shoulder in the background of one of ice's lives.

rumors of you being in a relationship were swarming the internet, fans trying to find even more "proof" of you together. they had been right, you were dating, but no one else needed to know that.

that's why you posted a video on paige's tiktok making a disclaimer that you guys were "just friends." however, the fans had gotten a taste of you two together, and weren't about to stop the edits or comments.

being a secret girlfriend to UConn's star player wasn't easy, you needed to go to all of the games to make paige happy, but you also couldn't be too public about your relationship.

you had thought you were doing a pretty good job, you sat directly across from the home bench and cheered when acceptable. you had been recognized more and more often now as you had officially posted with the team and were with them almost all the time.

your phone was blowing up with follow requests and tagging notifications, and your newfound fans wanting to get to know you outside of the girls. checking through notifications one day, you saw you had been tagged an abundant amount of times on one post.

clicking on the video, it starts to play a lovey-dovey edit audio as you watch clips of you a paige at the games. her pointing to you in the stands, you cheering as she shoots a three, and her hugging you after a game were all clips included in the edit.

needless to say, that was not the last of those edits.

you and paige had been going on date nights frequently throughout your almost year-long relationship. along the way you guys had gained a bit of a following on social media, being spotted almost everywhere it was difficult to just be a couple in public.

you and paige had finally had a good amount of time where the both of you were open and could do anything, deciding you would go to a nice little restaurant near by your shared apartment.

you had been laughing about some funny story paige had been telling about her day when a fan came up to your table. "wait, oh my gosh, no way, ohmygosh, you're paige bueckers! and you're her girlfriend!" you had gotten flustered at the correct assumption, not wanting to deny it but knowing you would have to denounce it to protect paige's future.

"oh um," you were cut off by paige grabbing your hand, giving you a look before turning to the girl. "that's me, do you want a picture? i have some time."

you smile as you watch her pose for the photo, what you hadn't realized was that you were visible in the background admiring her like she was the sun.

the fans had a field day with that single photo.

#wcbb #wlw #i need her #paige bueckers fic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb

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lqveharrington · 1 year

Text

Many Kisses | M.M

summary: miles is just too cute and you can’t contain it anymore, him returning it back <3

pairing: earth 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

warnings: (not proof read !!) no use of y/n, fluff, loads of kissing, miles being an adorable person and great boyfriend in general, lmk if i missed any

a/n: my brain just thinks on a daily that miles is so cute that i wanna pocket him and keep him for myself, ALSO, i do truly believe miles would call his s/o cute names in spanish a lot because of his mother. (p.s. the other one-shot is under way !!)

————

You were beyond bored, scrolling through your phone to at least sufism the boredom Miles left you in. He was playing video games and you were curled up in his bed, not entirely sure why he invited you over in the first place.

You had changed into some of his clothes upon arriving, picking his oversized shirt and old shorts to feel more contented despite the lack of affection coming from your boyfriend.

“Miles?” You call out, turning to face his backside.

“Amor?” He responded back in his subtle flirty way.

You huff in amusement, pulling his blanket closer to yourself as the smell gave you comfort. “How much longer do you have?”

“Uh, I don’t know… It could be awhile. Why?” Miles leaned with the game, slightly jumping. “You good?”

“What? Yeah, m’just bored.” You smile at how he focused on the game, knowing that his tongue was poking out.

It was normal for Miles to put all his attention on one thing and still be so cute while doing so. Working on a school project, helping his mother cook, or simply sleeping next to you. But for you being the only one to enjoy his adorable face making and mannerisms, you felt like pocketing him up and keeping him for yourself.

You stared at him while he was gaming, but being too quiet brought Miles’ attention back on you.

“Mi vida?” Miles pushed away from his set up as the loading screen pulled up, spinning around to face you instead. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You hum, pink dusting your cheeks. “Jus’ thinking.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He take your hand and laced it with his. “Besides me of course.”

“Technically, nothing else.” You mumble, glancing away from him and down to your intertwined hands. “Your just so… I’m not too sure how to describe it. Like, ugh.”

“Like, ugh?” He raised his brows.

You click your tongue, “Like so cute, I guess is a word to describe it. I just wanna squeeze you so hard with a hug and never let go.”

“Cuteness aggression comin’ outta no where.” Miles’ pecks your hand. “Give me a sec.”

You shut your eyes as he lets go of your hand, sinking into the comfort of his bed. Only when you feel the weight shift on the bed do you open your eyes.

“What’re you doing, Miles? I thought you and Ganke had to game for a bit?” You question as he slots himself in between your legs, head resting on your shoulder.

“We did, but I realized that my amazing, cute girlfriend needed my attention.” He pecked some of your exposed shoulder, slowly making his way up. “You’re just so incredible, mi vida.”

You blink, feeling tired from the weight on you.

He continued to leave light kisses and kissed all over your face. Your forehead, cheeks, nose, anywhere accessible to him he would kiss. The one place you wanted a kiss he was purposely avoiding.

You give a joking pout, still patiently waiting for the kiss on your lips but still received none.

Miles left one last kiss on your forehead before laying back down, moving his body to lay on his side to face you.

Staring at his lips then back to his eyes, you sigh. “Miles?”

He hummed, keep his arms around your waist secure as your legs were tangled with his.

“I wanna kiss.”

“You got plenty of kisses.” He tried to hide his amusement, knowing you weren’t going to stop until you got a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, I guess…” You bit your lip and think about your next move. “But you kinda missed a spot?”

“Where, mami?” Miles took one of his hand and brought it under your chin. He left a soft kiss to your cheek, “Here?”

You let a small smile slip through, “No…”

“You gotta tell me where, baby.” He rubbed the soft part of your check with his thumb. “Otherwise, I won’t know.”

“Here.” You pointed to your lips, his eyes following your movements.

He pulls you close to him, kissing you on the lips with his own soft ones, smiling into it when you quickly return the kiss. You cup his face, kissing him multiple times and giggling when he copies you.

“I love you so so so much.” You mumbled between kisses.

“I love you so much, more than you will ever know.” Miles says after giving you one last kiss and rests his forehead on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

————

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crljhnn · 2 years

Text

The older Jefferson

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x fem!Reader

Summary: After Rowley announces that his older (half-)sister, who lives quite far away and has never met the Heffleys, is going to visit him over the break Susan invites his family over for dinner. Her not being what Rodrick expects, he starts crushing, which results in him trying to impress her - failing horribly.

No physical description; No use of y/n

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: None

A/N: Hi, just a quick warning that English isn’t my first language and that this is also the first time I’ve ever written a longer text in English that isn’t a school assignment. I also don’t fully understand Tumblr yet, which makes me honestly a bit anxious to post.

[This and a gender-neutral version are also posted on AO3]

“Why haven't you ever mentioned that you have an older Sister?” Rowley and Greg were sitting on the Heffleys living room floor - Rodrick occupying the whole space on the couch - playing a video game. Well, Greg was. It was a single-player. He promised they would take turns, but by now Rowley had been over for about two and a half hours and hadn’t even had the chance to touch the controller yet. He gave up on asking and settled on just watching about 45 minutes in.

“I talked about her before. Multiple times actually.” That is true. Rowley looks up to his sister a lot “Also, she is technically my Half-Sister. She’s been living with her Dad for longer than I remember. Normally we are the ones flying over to visit during summer break, but she hasn’t visited since she was a little Kid, and after her school schedule finally allowed it, we thought it would be a good idea if she, for a change, came here instead.”

“It sounds like you two get along great!” Mrs. Heffley walked in, holding a laundry basket under one arm while carrying Manny with the other.

“We do! I can’t wait to show her my room and have her around for the entire break! I have so much planned out already, it's gonna be so much fun! Best summer ever!”

“That sounds lovely Rowley, I wish Greg was so excited to hang out with Rodrick, but they just won't get along.” Susan sighed, throwing a pitiful glance at her two oldest, who simultaneously let out a laugh hearing this.”

“Yeah, never gonna happen.” Greg says, “I would rather spend the whole summer in school than voluntarily hang out with this idiot.”

“My Sister is actually around the same age as Rodrick.” Rowley buts in. Greg doesn’t understand how this is relevant, but it probably adds to his mother's yearning for her two oldest sons to get along. Rodrick lets out a laugh hearing that.

“I can’t wait to meet them. Just imagine an older, female version of Rowley. That’s actually fucking hilarious!”.

“Watch your language! Also, I'm sure she is wonderful.” Gregs Mom loosens her lecturing stance, turns around, and smiles at Rowley “I would love to have you and your family over for dinner sometime. It has been a while since I’ve seen your parents and I would love to meet your sister.”

“That sounds great Mrs. Heffley. I will ask my parents as soon as I get home!”

That brings us to about a week later, when the Jefferson family, including their oldest daughter, is standing in front of the Heffleys House, ringing their doorbell.

Rowley has been telling you all about his best friend Greg for years, which made you somewhat excited about finally meeting him. However, you can’t say that the picture your brother painted is entirely positive, finding him rather irritating in many of the stories you were told over time. You aren't too mad though, assuming it is normal for young, teenage boys to act like jerks every once in a while. Not everyone can be such a sweetheart as Rowley. Overall you're glad your brother managed to maintain such a long-lasting friendship.

And then there was Rodrick. You've heard rather interesting stories about him as well. In the beginning, you found those quite amusing, that was until you realized that Rowley was genuinely terrified of him. Not the best first impression someone could make on you. Influenced by seeing your younger sibling grow up to be such a sweet and genuine person you tend to be a bit protective from time to time.

You hear some hushed voices from inside, and you can identify one of them as female, reminding someone to behave. Then the door opens and a woman, who you assume to be Mrs. Heffley, kindly smiles at you. Your suspicion is confirmed a second later when she introduces herself and shoos you into the house, before continuing to greet the rest of your family.

Crossing the threshold you can now see a man standing slightly behind Greg's mother. He introduces himself as Frank, making quite a kind impression on you. Then he leads you into the living room to meet his sons.

The two older ones hardly even notice you at first, too occupied with arguing and rowing with each other.

“Boys!”, their father speaks up, successfully catching their attention. Rather comically their gazes fall from their father to you, their eyes widening and their mouths dropping open. You were not what they expected. While Greg looks just shocked, you would describe Rodricks state as mesmerized.

He recovers fast, pushes Greg off of him, stands up, and puts on what he hopes is a charming smile. Extending his hand he starts to introduce himself.

“Hi, I’m-”

At least he tries to.

“Rodrick. I know. My brother has told me one or two rather interesting stories about you”, your smile is sharp. He gulps, his confident smile turning sheepish, cursing Rowley in his head. You are not what he expected and you are definitely not anywhere close to being a female carbon copy of your, in his eyes, embarrassing younger brother.

He normally wouldn’t consider himself the kind of person who has a type, but from now on, if someone asked, he would probably revert to describing you. You were just ethereal, everything about you was attractive to him. The way you walked, talked, and carried yourself, but also your clothing and hairstyle. Your pretty face just rounds up your whole appearance, making you all the more alluring.

He had to get on your good side. While a family dinner, especially with Greg present, may not be the best opportunity, he could ask Rowley to put in a few good words for him. That kid was easily influenced (or intimidated). Still, making the best possible impression over dinner wouldn’t cause any harm either.

You turn to the other boy who has been silently watching the exchange. Now that your attention is on him he starts feeling nervous as well. Your expression, however, turns a bit more friendly.

“And you must be Greg.” he nods. You introduce yourself and lastly say hello to Manny who is sitting on the floor playing with some figurines. By now the others have entered the room, causing Susan to start leading you all to the dining table.

You’re seated between Rowley and Greg, across from Rodrick, which results in quite frequent eye contact. On one side you really want to intimidate him a bit. This could maybe make your brother's life a bit easier, at least for the time being. On the other side, you do want to make some conversation, maybe throw in a bit of (family dinner appropriate) flirting or at least find out if he’s single.

It’s really hard to hold a grudge against someone who is entirely your type.

While you’re conflicted, Rodrick, on the other hand, is sweating. Nervously fidgeting in his seat. You didn’t seem as irritated with him anymore, if the eye contact was anything to go by. Was this his chance to redeem his shitty first impression? He cursed his brain for failing to come up with something cool to say.

Since when is it so hard to talk to girls? Is it getting hotter in here? What impresses girls? What does he normally brag about? His band! That’s it. Now he just has to bring it up somehow. Maybe he can bribe Greg to ask him about it. No, that’s too risky, he can’t count on Greg to not fuck this up. He is just going to casually bring it up ‘I’m in a band by the way, pretty sick huh?’ ‘Do you like music? Cause I’m in a band’ No that’s stupid everyone likes music… ‘Which kind of music do you listen to?’ That’s good, he should bring up the topic of music first, that’s a normal conversation topic. After that step two is to bring up the band. That’s easy, he got this.

Now he just needs to wait till your attention is on him again and then he can smoothly lead the conversation in the desired direction. He has to calm down, he can do it.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Your eyes meet again.

“I’m in a band!” He speaks way louder than intended, his voice is squeaky, and in the middle of the sentence he has the most embarrassing voice crack imaginable.

Silence.

The sole attention is now on him. All he hears is Greg's snickering which causes him to kick him under the table.

“Ow!” That was not Greg's leg. He looks up to see you looking at him with a questioning expression.

That’s it. He fucked up. His chances were already low, but he still managed to shrink them even more, making them most likely completely vanish. Great. His ears were ringing, all he can hear is Greg's quiet laughter in the background.

“I'm sorry I didn’t mean to kick you, I-” he starts his apology but loses track of what he is trying to say when he sees your expression change. You're clearly trying to suppress a smile, but it's not working at all.

“You’re adorable.” Rowley chokes on his food, and Greg's laughter abruptly stops

“Rodrick? Adorable?” That’s it. Greg gives up on ever trying to understand girls. How can his stupid older brother embarrass himself like that, then kick the poor girl under the table and still be perceived as adorable by her, especially since she is so much out of his league?

Rodrick however, was still not functioning properly.

“So that band, is its name by any chance Löded Diaper?”

“Yeah.” He is proud of himself for speaking at an appropriate volume without stuttering. “How do yo-”

“I saw your creepy white Van in front of the house. What’s up with that, kidnapping little kids as a side hustle?” You are still smiling, and with your stupid joke you somehow manage to relax the atmosphere a bit, the adults going back to their conversation.

Rodrick too is now smiling, looking at you with an expression you could only describe as lovestruck, even though you just insulted him.

He is contemplating making a joke about how the space in the back could be quite useful for more than just trapping kids but decides against it, fearing to make it awkward again. Getting nervous about taking too much time to come up with an answer he instead lands on “No only kidnapping pretty girls like you.”. As soon as the words leave his mouth he regrets it, realizing it's in fact not a funny and flirty thing to say, but honestly rather creepy.

At the end of the evening, Rodrick has messed up flirting with you multiple times, however, it’s his luck that you find his desperate attempts to look cool to impress you weirdly endearing. Not that he realizes that. Calling Rodrick confused, questioning why you were still talking to him, would be an understatement.

He certainly doesn’t know how he can have messed up so many times and still end up finding a little note with your number on it in his pullover hood after you left.

#rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #rodrick heffley #fem!reader #diary of a wimpy kid #fluff #first meeting #oneshot #x reader #reader insert #fanfic

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lefteagleblizzard · 1 month

Text

𝔚𝔢𝔢𝔨𝔢𝔫𝔡 𝔴𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯𝔰

Mike Schmidt x male reader

Summary: Many weeks have passed since your relationship with Mike began. Every chance you got, every break from studying, you spent with the Schmidt siblings, especially on weekends. Today, in particular, the three of you spent the whole day together, which ended with Abby falling asleep in the middle of a board game she insisted on playing despite the late hour. In the process of cleaning everything up, you and Mike start asking each other some questions to get to know each other better. The situation escalated from there.

Warnings: Age-gap (5 years) between you and Mike. Male reader. He/him pronouns used towards the reader. Fluff. Mike can speak Spanish, translation to everything at the end (y’all, every time I watch that video on YouTube of Josh answering the web’s most searched question about him and he starts speaking in Spanish... 🥵) Smut at the end. Top Mike. Bottom reader. Table sex. Reader being called “good boy”. Handjob (M receiving). Rimming (R receiving). Anal sex.

Words count: 4500

Part 1-Part 3-Part 4-Part 5

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

The weekend had arrived, bringing with it a much-needed break from college lectures and a chance to spend time with Mike Schmidt and his younger sister, Abby. The three of you had spent the day immersed in simple pleasures: watching Abby's favorite movies, preparing meals together, and even an impromptu dance party in the living room, which left Abby giggling uncontrollably.

As night fell, Abby suggested playing a board game. It was a game designed for children, colorful and straightforward, but its appeal lay more in Abby's enthusiasm than in the gameplay itself.

Mike sat back on the couch, his eyes softening as he watched you and Abby playfully argue over the rules of the board game she insisted on playing. His feelings for you had grown quickly over the past few weeks, and he often found himself marveling at how easily you fit into his life. It was a feeling that both comforted and surprised him-this natural blending of your world with his.

Mike's gaze lingered on you, noticing how you engaged with Abb, your smile genuine and warm, It was moments like these that made him realize just how much you meant to him. The thought of spending nights like this more often, with you by his side, filled him with a profound sense of happiness.

Abby seemed to relish the sight of you and Mike together, often teasing you both with exaggerated gestures of affection.

Whenever you leaned in to kiss Mike or wrap an arm around him, Abby would dramatically roil her eyes, feigning disgust in a way that only a precocious child could. "Ew, you guys are so gross" she'd declare, her face scrunched up, though the playful twinkle in her eye gave her away.

Mike enjoyed playing along with Abby's antics.

He would sometimes pause mid-kiss, turning to her with mock seriousness, "You're just jealous because he can’t resist my charm."

Abby would respond with an exaggerated gag, making you both laugh. "Ugh, please, spare me!" she'd cry, pretending to shield her eyes.

Abby's competitive spirit shone through as she took an early lead, her laughter infectious as she watched the two of you struggle to catch up.

Despite the game's child-like simplicity, you and Mike indulged her, enjoying the shared moments of joy and the occasional eye roll when she pulled off a particularly clever move.

Eventually, the day's excitement took its toll on Abby, and she gradually succumbed to sleep, leaning against Mike's side. Her soft snores were a testament to the fun filled day, and you couldn't help but smile at the scene.

He gently shifted her into his arms, carefully carrying her to her bedroom. The sight of Mike's gentle care warmed your heart, showcasing a side of him that made you admire him even more.

Once Abby was safely tucked into bed, Mike returned to the living room, with a soft sigh, he bent down and kissed you, his lips brushing against yours with affectionate warmth.

"She's out like a light," he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck.

With the game almost cleared away, you caught the hint of reluctance in his demeanor, as if he was fighting the urge to suggest calling it a night. He wanted to savor this rare moment of togetherness, not wanting to seem like the boring type who couldn't keep up.

"Hey," you started, your voice light as you gathered some puzzle pieces into a box, "how about we play a little game while we clean up?"

Mike looked at you, one eyebrow raised in curiosity. "A game? Haven't we had enough of those for one night?" he asked, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of fatigue.

He had been running on the relentless schedule of work and caring for Abby, and the idea of simply wrapping you in his arms and falling asleep was incredibly appealing.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you continued tidying up. "Not that kind of game. I was thinking more of a question game—just you and me. We ask each other questions to get to know each other better. Nothing too serious, just...fun."

Mike hesitated, his instinctive walls coming up. You could see the reluctance in his eyes. He wasn't one to open up easily, even to someone he was dating. The thought of revealing too much too soon probably made him uneasy. But he also didn't want to seem boring or unwilling to engage with you, especially after the perfect day you had spent together. He sighed softly, then gave a small nod, agreeing to your proposal.

"Alright," he said, his voice quiet but warm, "but you go first."

You grinned, pleased that he was willing to play along. You folded up a blanket that had been tossed over the couch.

He sat on the couch and leaned back, stretching his arms with a yawn before picking up some toys scattered there that Abby has hidden in the morning.

“If you could travel anywhere in the world, where would it be and why?"

Mike paused, thinking it over as he picked up the scattered game pieces from the floor. He was silent for a moment, his brow furrowed in thought. "I don't know," he finally admitted, "I've never really thought about it. I guess.. maybe somewhere quiet. A place where Abby could be happy, where she could run around safely and just be a kid without any worries. Maybe a small town by the coast. She loves the water

You smiled at his answer, not surprised that even his hypothetical dreams were centered around Abby's happiness. "That sounds nice," you said softly, picturing the scene in your mind.

"My turn," Mike said, turning to you as he finished stacking the board games. "What about you? What's something you've always wanted to do but never had the chance to"

The question caught you off guard. You hadn't expected Mike to be so direct, but it was a good kind of surprise. You thought about it for a moment before answering. "I've always wanted to go on a road trip across the country," you admitted. "Just pack up and drive, see where the road takes me. No plans, no schedules, just freedom"

Mike nodded, seeming to understand the appeal. "Your turn, champ," he said, getting comfortable on the couch while he handed you this bag where all of Abby’s toys were.

He rubbed his eyes, trying to stay alert with a tired smile.

Mike’s head was resting on one of his hands, his eyes half-closed in a relaxed state as he waited for your question.

To break the tension, or perhaps to prolong it, you quickly thought of another question to ask.

"Say something to me in Spanish."

Mike blinked, clearly surprised by the request. You had heard him mumbling to himself in Spanish once before, early one morning when he thought he was alone in the kitchen. You hadn't understood what he had said, but the sound of the language rolling off his tongue had been intoxicating. You had been craving to hear him speak in Spanish again ever since.

Mike raised an eyebrow at your request, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. A small, knowing smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were already flushing with anticipation.

He studied you for a moment, clearly amused by your request. Without further hesitation, he leaned a little closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper as he spoke in fluid, flawless Spanish.

"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto," he said, the words flowing effortlessly from his lips

The way he said it, with such ease and confidence, sent a shiver down your spine. There was something undeniably hot about hearing him speak in a language you didn't fully understand, the foreign syllables carrying an air of mystery and allure.

"What... what did you just say?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Mike rubbed his eyes, clearly tired but still amused by your curiosity.

“It’s a secret,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. “But maybe, if you’re lucky, I’ll whisper it to you again...sometime.”

Grinning, you gave a nod and smoothly took the bag from his hands. With a swift motion, you began collecting the scattered toys and papers, turning the cleanup into a playful dance.

You could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he pondered a question to satisfy his curiosity. A slow smile crept across his face, transforming into a sly grin. Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Before we got together, what’s one dirty thought you had about me?”

A rush of heat surged to your cheeks, and you instinctively placed your head on the table, shoulders shaking with a mix of laughter and embarrassment while you held tightly the bag. "Why did I invent these rules?" you groaned, half in regret and half in amusement.

Mike chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered state. His eyes went to esaminate the rest of the room, satisfied in seeing that there was almost nothing left. "Come on, you can't back out now. Rules are rules."

Taking a deep breath, you lifted your head, your cheeks still burning. "Fine," you said, your voice tinged with shyness. "There was this one time... you were fixing something around the house in a tank top. I don’t really remember what you were fixing, I wasn’t paying attention to that, you know? I was just watching you, and I couldn’t stop thinking about— hmph..." You paused, your voice trailing off as you hesitated.

Mike leaned in, clearly eager to hear more. "Thinking what?" he prompted, his tone encouraging.

You laughed nervously, finally relenting. "i kept making scenarios in my head of you pulling me close and kissing me. And more..."

The tension between you was almost palpable, a charged current that seemed to pulse through the room.

“For the record, I knew you were staring." He whispered softly at you before turning his back at you to pick up some shredded paper from the ground

You smiled softly at him, happy to know that the attraction you felt for him was mutual.

This game you started will end soon.

After moving around to pick up toys and scattered pieces of paper, you started to feel the heat creeping up your neck. You had been so focused on the game and the conversation that you hadn't noticed how warm it had gotten. Tentatively, and feeling a little self-conscious, you decided to take off your shirt to cool down.

You hesitated for a moment before you slowly pulled off your shirt, revealing your bare chest. You felt a little shy, your skin tingling with a mix of nerves and excitement as the cool air hit your exposed skin.

When you finally looked up, you saw Mike staring at you in awe, his gaze fixed on your chest. There was something almost reverent in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The intensity of his gaze made your heart race, and you suddenly felt very self-aware.

He caught your eye and winked, a gesture that sent your heart racing. In a fit of playful defiance, you grabbed your shirt and threw it at him, your cheeks burning under his gaze.

Mike raised an arm to shield himself from the attack, laughing quietly as the shirt hit him squarely in the chest. His grin widened, clearly amused by your reaction. "Hey, no fair! Can't blame a guy for appreciating the view.” He protested, but the grin on his face told you he was anything but annoyed.

You couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, feeling both shy and bold at the same time.

Finally, after what felt like hours but was likely only a few minutes, the room was clean, and there was nothing left to distract you from the simmering tension between you. You turned to Mike, a sudden idea popping into your mind-a bold request that you weren't sure you had the courage to voice, but the thought of his hands on you was too tempting to resist.

"Hey," you began, your voice a little hesitant, "how about a reward for all that cleaning?"

Mike looked at you, intrigued. "What kind of reward are we talking about?" he asked as he leaned in slightly.

You swallowed, your heart pounding in your chest as you worked up the nerve to ask. "A massage," you finally said, your voice almost a whisper. "On my back. I could use one after all that moving around."

He nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Sure," he agreed, his voice low and velvety. He rubbed his hands together, warming them up as he asked, "Where would it be more comfortable for you?"

Without overthinking it, you moved closer to him and, in a swift motion, settled yourself onto his lap, your back facing him. He let out a surprised huff, followed by a low grunt as he adjusted to your weight.

"Easy there," he murmured, clearly taken off guard by your boldness. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your hips. "You're getting a little too good at this teasing thing."

"Everything okay, old man?" you teased, laughter bubbling up inside you.

"You're lucky I like you," he shot back, grinning as his hands settled on your back.

Settling into Mike's lap, you felt a flutter of excitement mixed with a warmth that spread from your cheeks down to your toes.

You could sense Mike adjusting slightly, finding the right balance to support you as his hands settled onto your shoulders. The touch was gentle at first, exploratory, as if he was reacquainting himself with every curve and line of your back. His fingers pressed into the muscles at the base of your neck, drawing out a sigh from you that was part relief, part pleasure.

"You've got a lot of tension here," Mike murmured, his voice low and intimate, the kind of tone that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I blame you for that," you teased, your own voice barely above a whisper.

His hands moved with practiced ease, kneading the knots and tightness with a care that was both soothing and intoxicating. Each stroke of his fingers felt deliberate, a careful balance between pressure and gentleness that sent warmth spreading through your body. You couldn't help but lean back slightly, closer against him, feeling the heat of his body seep into yours.

"Comfortable?" Mike asked, his breath warm against your ear.

"Very," you replied, the word coming out more like a contented sigh. You tilted your head to the side, giving him better access, the gesture both an invitation and an acknowledgment of trust.

His hands traveled lower, fingers tracing the contours of your spine with a touch that was both firm and featherlight. You could feel the calluses on his fingertips.

Mike's fingers splayed across your lower back, his thumbs working in tandem to soothe the tension from the long day. You could feel the strength in his hands, the surety of his touch, and it made you acutely aware of every point of contact between your bodies.

"You're really good at this," you murmured, the words slipping out between soft sighs of pleasure.

He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. "I used to give Abby back rubs when she couldn't sleep.” he replied, his voice a deep rumble that resonated in your chest.

You couldn't help but shift slightly, pressing back against him, the motion eliciting a low hum of approval from him that sent your heart racing.

"You're making this very difficult for me to concentrate."

You smiled, your eyes fluttering open to meet his gaze. "Who said I wanted you to concentrate?"

He laughed softly, a sound that wrapped around you like a favorite blanket, comforting and familiar.

You could feel your heart beating a little faster, your breath coming a little shorter, as if every cell in your body was attuned to the anticipation building between you.

Mike shifted beneath you, adjusting his position slightly, and the movement brought you even closer together, your bodies aligning in a way that was both natural and exhilarating.

You felt a surge of courage that prompted you to turn slightly, shifting so that you could see his face more clearly.

Mike met your gaze, his eyes dark and filled with an emotion that mirrored your own. There was a moment of silence before he leaned forward, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was filled with an urgency that left no room for hesitation.

His tongue traced the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart, and when you opened up to him, the kiss deepened into something raw and primal.

But it was the way he moaned against your mouth that sent a thrill of electricity coursing through your veins, the sound low and rough, vibrating through your very core. The moan was muffled, almost swallowed by the intensity of the kiss, but it resonated in the pit of your stomach, sending waves of pleasure radiating outward.

And then he rotated your head slightly, his hand gripping your chin as he deepened the kiss, his mouth moving over yours with a fervor that bordered on desperation.

You could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles coiled with the effort to maintain control, and it was intoxicating, the knowledge that he was holding back for you.

His hands slid down to your waist, and he pulled you even closer, your chest flush against his as he guided your movements with ease. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you.

He broke the kiss only to whisper against your lips, his voice a low murmur that sent shivers cascading down your spine. "My good boy," he breathed, his words a caress that resonated deep within you, leaving you yearning for more.

Mike's own breath was unsteady, mingling with yours in a symphony of shared pleasure.

As he pulled back slightly, his lips still brushing against your skin, he whispered with a husky tenderness that made your heart flutter, "Such a good boy for me.”

His mouth found its way to your neck, pressing kisses.

"Mike...”. you whispered, your voice a breathy plea, filled with a need that you couldn't quite put into words. "Speak to me... in Spanish... please."

The request hung in the air between you, and for a moment, you wondered if he would oblige. But then, his lips were at your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he began to speak, the words flowing from his mouth in a rich, rolling cadence that made your heart skip a beat.

"Eres mi chico bueno," he whispered, his voice rough and filled with a intensity that made your knees weak. "Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío."

You didn't need to understand every word to know what he was saying, the intent was clear in the way his voice caressed each syllable, his tone heavy with adoration.

His hand slid up your back, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck as he bent down to press a kiss to your shoulder, the gesture so tender, so filled with reverence that it made your chest tighten with emotion. You could feel the way his body trembled against yours, the effort to maintain control evident in every movement, every breath.

But it was the way he continued to speak, his voice low and breathy, that sent shivers down your spine, the words a mixture of praise and profanity that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

"Me vuelves loco," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto."

"Mi chico perfecto," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion as he leaned in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. The kiss was tender, filled with a depth of feeling that made your chest tighten with emotion, and you found yourself leaning into him, your body seeking the warmth and comfort of his embrace.

His hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours with a possessive hunger that made your knees weak.

The taste of him was intoxicating, and you found yourself drowning in the sensation, your body pressing against his in a desperate attempt to get closer, to feel more of him.

"Eres mío," he murmured, his words a promise, a vow that resonated deep within you. "Solo mío."

The declaration sent a thrill of pleasure through you, and you couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, the sound quickly muffled by his kiss. His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer, as if trying to merge your bodies into one, to erase the space that dared to separate you.

And as his lips moved from your mouth to your neck, pressing kisses and bites along the sensitive skin there, you felt the world around you fade away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a moment of pure, unbridled passion.

Mike shifted, rising from the chair with you in his arms and he carried you to the table with a grace that left you breathless.

The cool surface met your skin as he bent you over the table, a contrast that heightened the warmth of his body pressing against you. His hands roamed with a newfound urgency.

His lips followed the path his hands had charted, pressing kisses that were both gentle and insistent.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips, a sound of pure pleasure that echoed in the quiet room. Mike responded with a deep, resonant grunt, a primal sound that spoke of his own rising desire.

"Shh," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a playful reprimand. But his own breath was ragged.

Mike's hands found yours, interlocking your fingers as he leaned over you, his chest pressing against your back in a gesture that spoke of unity and devotion. His breath was warm against your ear, his whispered words a balm that soothed and ignited in equal measure.

His hand finds the front of your sweats, breaking your train of thought, and he smiles when you gasp softly.

"You're hard."

"Have been for a while," is all you say, face hot.

He just nods before kissing you again, hand rubbing against your bulge with his other one still on your rear.

His hands make haste with the strings of your sweatpants, loosening it just enough to reach in and grab your hard cock, releasing it from the confines of the fabric with a satisfied look. He rubs you softly, thumb placing just beneath the head, soaking in your noises.

He wraps his hand around you firmly now, stroking you slowly as he kisses you deep. It’s rather unfortunate that he must silence your pretty sounds but the vibration of your moans against his mouth makes up for the loss.

Mike was always this way - the pleasurer, rather than the pleased. Trust that he was always happily pleased with his time with you, with your reactions and moans, asking for more, but in general, he just wasn't the type to seek out his own gratification before giving you yours. Part of it riled you up inside, part of it made your heart yearn for him all the more.

He strokes you and you curl into him. It’s as though his fingers are laced with poison. And yet, his lips somehow carry the antidote.

Mike positioned himself in between your thighs, cock of his own throbbing through his jeans. The sight alone has you begging whatever gods may be for some kind of release, not that you’d ever repent for your sinful thoughts when it came to this man. Even if it meant going to something resembling Heaven. You’ve already experienced such a reality and he was right in front of you, rubbing his hardening self against you with no remorse or embarrassment.

Your hands reach down to finally feel him, the way he twitches against your touch, the way he groans just above you.

His hips buck up just slightly, seeking friction, and you chuckle before giving it to him. You buckle his belt and take him out of his jeans and boxers and revel at the sight.

He reaches down to help you. His mouth found yours again as his hands wrap around the both of you, rutting his leaking cock against yours, fucking into his palm.

You follow suit, hips rolling forward as you chase your high. He smirks against your lips before pulling away to look at you, "Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así."

You whine at the praise, face heating up even more - you didn't know that was even possible.

"I, I want-" You struggle to find the words, too lost in the pleasure of his dick against yours.

Mike kisses you again, understanding you regardless, and chuckles as he lets go of the both of you to help you shimmy off your pants completely.

His fingers find again the curves of your ass and he grins widely, groaning at the sight. The flat surface of his tongue laps up your hole, sopping up the area to make it easier for his thumb. He pushes the digit into your enclosure, slow yet eager.

"Mike," you sigh, eyes shut as you focus desperately on his touch.

Your hands clenched into fists on the cold table.

His tongue finally - thankfully - pushes past the precipice, your hips rising at the feeling. Already, your dick twitches in ecstasy, wanting more, wanting release. You can feel the way his facial hair curls upwards against you.

He spits once at your hole as he pulls away, his chin slick from his preparations. Two fingers pass easily through and leave you to crumble beneath him, scissoring them apart to make room for one more, rolling your head against the table, thrashing about as if you were being tortured.

He positions himself at your entrance. "Ready?"

You nod with furrowed brows and god, when he pushes the tip slowly past your rim, you swear you could die.

He pushes in steadily, slow but never faltering. He stretches you so well. You groan, a mix of pain and satisfaction flooding your senses. He holds your cheek, rubbing his thumb over the curves to soothe you as he seeks pleasure of his own deep within you.

You feel his dick twitch against your walls. He rolls his hips, aiming for that spot that drives you to madness. The angle allows this easily, your mind going blank as you become solely aware of the feeling of him entering and exiting your hole. He finds his rhythm, keeping his hands on you as he guides himself in and out, loving the way your ass looks as it ripples with every thrust. He moves his hand from your stomach down to your dick, holding it against the skin of his palm, fingers wrapping around you.

He strokes you at a pace mimicking his own movements, and your brain begins to steam, overcome with heat and desire.

"Shit," you grit, finally opening your eyes.

Your hips buck upward and his thumb shifts against your head as a result, sending you over the edge, spilling over his hand and onto your stomach.

Mike groans at the sight of you coming undone beneath him, pace quickening as he longs to join you in your ecstasy before thrusting a final time, moaning low as he spills.

Warmth spreads over you as he keeps himself slotted within. His hand rests on your stomach.

"You good?" He asks with a soft and reassuring cadence, leaning over to kiss your collarbone as his hands rub up and down your sides.

You nod, satisfied. He chuckles softly at your expression, taking it in affectionately.

As you turned to face him, you saw the exhaustion etched on his face, and your heart softened. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids heavy as he tried to keep his gaze focused on you.

"Mike," you whispered, reaching up to gently caress his face, your fingers brushing against the stubble on his jaw. "You look like you're about to pass out."

He leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he let out a deep, tired sigh. "I'm so tired," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled softly, your heart swelling with affection for the man before you. "Let’s get cleaned up real quickly," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

Mike's eyes opened slightly, a grateful smile tugging at his lips. "You're too good to me," he said, his voice filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter.

You shook your head, your smile widening as you helped him to his feet. "No, Mike. We're good for each other."

Later on, as you curled up together in bed, Mike's arms wrapped securely around you, his breath warm against your neck, you knew that whatever the future held, you would face it together, with love and trust as foundation.

As Mike drifted off to sleep, his body relaxed against yours, you couldn't help but smile to yourself, feeling utterly content.

Note: I want to extend my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who read the first part of this. Your support and kind words mean the world to me and have truly inspired me to continue writing.

I hope you enjoy this second part just as much as the first. Your feedback and encouragement are incredibly motivating, and I look forward to hearing your thoughts on this continuation of the story.

Thank you once again for all the love and support!

Translation for all the words in Spanish (done with the help of my brother so blame him for any errors)

-"Eres un chico hermoso y perfecto"= "You are a beautiful and perfect boy"

-"Eres mi chico bueno" = "You're my good boy"

-"Mi precioso, el más hermoso que he visto. Eres mío." = "My precious, the most beautiful I've ever seen. You're mine."

-"Me vuelves loco" = "You drive me crazy"

-"No puedo... resistirme a ti. Eres tan perfecto, tan malditamente perfecto." = "I can't... resist you. You are so perfect, so damn perfect."

-"Mi chico perfecto" = "My perfect boy"

-"Eres mío" = "You're mine"

-"Solo mío" = "Only mine"

-"Eres tan jodidamente hermoso así." = “You're so fucking handsome like that."

198 notes · View notes

sc0tters · 8 months

Text

Missing You | Nico Hischeir

summary: when you and Nico haven’t seen each other for a month his teammates pull off the surprise of a lifetime when you both needed it the most.

request: yes/no

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, swearing, slight exhibitionist kink?

word count: 2.68k

authors note: welcome to the fourth instalment of the 1000 celly, and what I think is our first one with a mclaren driver. I have missed writing for this boy so much! this is also the first smut of 2024 if I'm not mistaken! we also aren't going to acknowledge that this has taken me like four days to write this...

You knew you were in love with Nico.

It was hard not to be, he had been your boyfriend for the last four and a half years and you didn't want anything more. When you were with Mclaren you met him when he was on a trip to Belgium you two met during a party. You had just won the first race of your career but the moment you saw him, the world all of a sudden didn’t matter to you. But by the end of the night you couldn’t get enough of him.

Yet as your careers both got ahead of you and it meant that the only real time you found yourself together was a three week period where you were both off in the summer break. But after this year it felt awkward for you both. You were coming up to the Austin leg of the season and with that it meant that you were back in the states. It seemed that both of you let your careers take hold of your lives, so even though you had a week off you didn’t know if Nico wanted to spend the time with you.

That was compounded by the fact that you guys had a stupid argument, and when Nico ended the call with how he thought it would have been best if you didn’t come in your week off.

Nico had been having a rough week so when the video came up of you and Lando being interviewed by a child, it was the cherry on top of the shit cake. Not even your FaceTime call could have taken him out of it “there you are love!” You smiled as you saw the picture connect “finally found some time away from Lando?” Nico grumbled as he hadn’t even finished the video when you called.

Your face dropped as you furrowed your eyebrows “you okay?” You trailed off as it only seemed to piss him off further “why do you have to go get all flirty with your teammate?” The accusation made you freeze “okay back the fuck up hotshot.” You warned as you raised your hand signaling to him to stop.

It wasn’t often that you two fought but after months without sex - or any variation of it - you were both frustrated “I did not flirt with my teammate or anyone because I’m in love with you!” You were close to hanging up as you glared at him “you’ve got a funny way of showing that.” Nico laughed as he shook his head.

You were doing alright at the moment with your racing, many podiums and even a win in the season that could all but have been called Max’s. But with one DNF and one DNS coming right after each other, you were now stressed “look don’t make your team playing like shit right now my fault.” You grumbled not realizing that the comment had slipped out “if we’re so shit then maybe you shouldn’t come!” With that Nico hung up leaving you with the reflection of your shocked face.

As much as you wanted to apologize for what you had said, you were still upset that he could have ever questioned how you felt about him. It was clear the entire world noted how both of you were currently struggling not only in your sports but also how you just seemed to be out of it. You missed your boyfriend but as fans would have you sign random pieces of devils merch as the announcement of your relationship upon your win in Austria two years ago came with a whole new group of fans.

So when you were sat in the comfort of your hotel room and got the message from Jack asking if you wanted to come to a devs game before the race in Vegas, you knew you couldn’t say no. Not when this was attached.

Jacky Hughes: he misses you, even if he won’t say it

The text made your heart break especially after you watched Nico get injured. The Prudential Center was a place you found comfort in but this time as you sat amongst the crowd all you wanted was him. Nico’s name was proudly stapled on your back as you were in his jersey and a plain black cap as though it was going to be enough to hide your identity.

And it did until the final intermission just as the boys got back on the ice “she still not talking to you?” Nico had called you earlier that morning but as you were on your flight you had no way of answering it “I just miss her.” Timo couldn’t help but place his hand on the boys shoulder as he felt bad.

More than half of the team knew that you were here and Timo decided he could no longer leave Nico in his misery “look up there.” Six rows up sat next to Ellen and Jim Hughes, was you.

Nico felt his jaw drop as he locked eyes with you “hi.” You mouthed like he could even see what you were saying “love you.” Nico did the same thing as you as he placed his hand on his heart as you blew him a kiss.

That final period everyone swore that there was a rocket under Nico’s ass as he scored two different goals, both of which you knew were dedicated to you as the boy would smirk in your direction. It seemed that both of you were ready to finally see each other but as he got one of the stars of the game it left you waiting with Jack “thank you for getting me here.” You smiled at the boy finally taking your cap off as you realized you weren’t hiding anymore.

Jack brushed it off as it was more of a favour to the boys than something for you guys “just hope he behaves.” You had mentioned your apprehensions on coming because of how you two fought “have a feeing we both will.” You nodded as you watched Nico’s head stick out from the crowd “schatzi!” He called out acting as the cue that Jack needed to leave “have fun.” The boy patted your shoulder as he walked off to his parents.

It was only a few seconds until Nico was in front of you “hi.” He smiled noticing how you fidgeted with your rings just like you used to when you guys first started dating “you played well tonight cap.” The nickname had his mind fulling with thoughts, all as inappropriate as the previous.

His hand locked with yours as he clicked his tongue wanting you to stop “I’m sorry I called your team shit.” You were the first to apologize as your voice was soft not wanting his teammates to hear you “let’s go talk in the car.” Nico offered as he slid his arm over your shoulders letting your rest your head against him.

It had been a while since you were in New Jersey as your summer break was spent in Europe “how did you keep the boys quiet?” Nico asked as he locked his hand with yours over the center console “it was actually their idea.” You smiled revealing what the surprise was “Jack said you missed me.” You teased letting out a giggle as the boys cheeks turn red.

Nico couldn’t help but nod as he sighed “you and Lando are good friends and I know you love me.” The hockey player had found himself repeating the apology that he tried so many times to send you “I seriously think you’re on a great team.” You hated how badly you spoke about the team when Nico stood by your side through everything “can we agree we were both wrong?” The air finally felt light as the car came to a stop when the light turned red.

His eyes stared into yours as he swore that there was nowhere that he’d rather be “only if it means that I could kiss you.” Nico mumbled as it made you smile “never need to ask me that.” You shook your head as the boy dropped his head to the side as he let his lips touch yours.

A fire built up in your belly as his hand grazed your cheek finally stopping as he tugged on your hair “Neek.” You moaned feeling him smirk against your lips “I know baby.” Nico sighed having to pull away as the car behind them hooted as the light went green “so fucking happy to have you back my sweet girl.” He mumbled letting his hand rest on your thigh as he smiled.

Being captain of an NHL team came with a bunch of privileges. One that Nico never realized that he was meant to appreciate was an expensive apartment with a view that could have been worth a thousand bucks “this will never get old.” You gasped pressing your fingers against the glass as you watched New Jersey continue to move beneath you “feels great getting to watch you in it.” Nico’s breath fanned against your skin as the hairs on the back of your neck stood up.

It was as though your entire body melted as his hands gripped at your hips “even in all of this?” You joked looking down to the fact that you were fully clothed “would prefer if you were just in this.” His fingers tugged at the jersey on your shoulders.

All of a sudden an idea popped up in your mind “what’s stopping you pretty boy?” Your tongue darted out of your mouth as you turned to face him “you gonna let me?” Nico raised his eyebrows in surprise as he hooked his fingers in the belt hoops of your pants pulling you closer to him “you get whatever you want my little star.” You cooed pushing yourself onto your tippy toes as you wrapped your hands around his shoulders.

Nico grinned as he swayed your hips against his “fuck I need you schatzi.” His groan was caught as your teeth grazed his lower lip “don’t make me wait.” The fight was now long forgotten as he undid your belt “god you’re soaked.” His eyes blew up at the sight of the wet patch on your panties.

He helped you out of your pants “do something please.” You begged as his eyes had you feeling like he had you fully undressed “put your hands against the window then for me.” Nico moved your hair to the side of your neck.

As you listened to his command his pants grew tight around his boner “looking so good tonight in my jersey.” The boy cooed as he turned his attention to the flesh of your ass squeezing your skin between his fingers “just tonight?” You held back a moan as you wiggled your ass in front of him desperate to get a reaction from the boy.

That behavior was cut as he lay a quick slap to your skin that was quickly followed by a soothing motion “you’ve got such a pretty ass.” He mumbled to himself picking up the band of your panties only to let it snap again as it made you jump “I need you Nico.” You begged letting the cool glass hit your forehead “you have me here schatzi.” His hand palmed your ass.

It made you whimper as your jaw went slack “need you to touch me.” Your tone was sultry as your body tensed “you just a cock hungry girl tonight?” The boy was amused as he took the time to unbuckle his belt as you bit your lip in anticipation “asked you a question pretty girl.” His voice pulled you from your focus as you turned your head to face him “want you baby.” Was all he needed to hear as he dropped his suit pants letting them hit the floor.

Nico missed this view as you practically oozed with anticipation “god I’ve missed this cunt” His fingers traced on the lace on your underwear before he hooked his fingers into the waistband leaving you nude from the waist down “you don’t have to wait much longer pretty boy.” You smirked hearing the gasp that left his lips as you knew that he was palming his cock.

The boy dragged its swollen head over your slit spreading his precum over your clit “don’t tease me please.” You begged as your knuckles turned white as your fingers tensed against the window “how do you think they would feel seeing how needy you are for me?” Nico teased as he kissed your neck as he slid his cock into your cunt “so big.” You gasped as the boy gave you a moment to let your walls stretch as his cock throbbed inside you “moove p-please.” You moaned feeling his hands squeeze your hips.

He felt his head drop back as you whimpered “let yourself scream f’me baby.” Nico nipped at your earlobe as it made you squirm “they can’t hear you from up here.” He reminded you of where you both were “you want people to watch you fuck-me!” You yelled the last part as Nico hit your ass once more.

Nico growled from behind you as he had gotten carried away by the fact that that you were still in his jersey “deserve to see who you belong to.” His possessiveness made you clench your cunt around him “you like it when I call you mine huh?” You nodded as you cried out “belong to you cap.” If Nico didn’t have so much planned for you he would have came on the spot but he used everything in his power to not coat the walls of your cunt in that moment.

The sound of skin slapping echoed in your ears as the sight of you in his jersey made his mouth water “hated thinking about those boys so close to you.” He grunted in your ear as his hands trailed up the inside of the jersey “you just look so fucking good in this.” As your hair was pushed to the side it had his name proudly displayed on your back.

You moaned as you nodded “’s all for you neeks.” You no longer seemed to care that you were against the window as your legs began to shake “I’m so close.” You announced as your hand trailed down to your clit as you began to rub at the sensitive nub.

As the boy realized what you were doing he swatted your hand away as he continued the assault on your clit “be a good girl and hold it f’me.” He clicked his tongue as he wanted to push you just a little bit further “i-i can’t.” You swore that tears were filling up your eyes as you whimpered “just a little bit longer.” He practically pleaded wanting to push you as close to the edge as he could.

Sweat made your hair stick to your skin “I need to-” your plead was short lived as he cut you off “let go for me.” Nico mumbled as his cock throbbed your body shook as you came “fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted as you pressed your head against his shoulder as your cunt clenched around him “there it is pretty girl.” Nico cooed as he kissed your temple as his orgasm came shortly after yours.

Nico watched your chest heaved as he slid his cock out of you “you were so good.” You mumbled turning to face him as you smiled “the night doesn’t have to end schatzi.” Nico cupped your cheeks as he pecked your lips “take me to your room cap.” He didn’t need to hear anymore as he threw you over his shoulder making you squeal as he laughed.

The door to his room shut and with that the rest of the events planned for you two weren’t going to be seen by New Jersey. Because as fun as that was, being tangled in the sheets was far more favourable.

#amber writes fics #nico hischier oneshot #nico hischier imagine #ambers 1000 celly #nhl smut #hockey smut #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #hockey oneshots #nhl oneshots

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hxney-lemcn · 5 months

Text

Best Friend — Idia Shroud x gn! reader

summery: Idia realizes that you might be closer than he thought.

tw: uhhh none I think.

a/n: idk if this is bad, I think I got Idia's personality right. This is kinda more platonic, but could be read as romantic.

wc: 0.6k

Master List

The more Idia got to know you, the more he realized you might’ve been less of a normie than he originally thought. Of course you were nowhere near Idia’s status of loser otaku, but you still surprised him. It started with you complaining about something called vocaloid? Idia hadn’t heard of vocaloid before, but when you explained the concept he realized it was your world's version of synthaloid. That was the first time he started to question his view of you. As you complained about not being able to listen to vocaloid anymore, he introduced you to some synthaloid songs. He watched as your eyes lit up, head bobbing to the songs as you scanned the lyrics.

He hadn’t heard of normies liking synthaloid, but you were still too extroverted. I mean you had how many friends in how many dorms? Total normie activities. Yet you shocked him once again when you then started complaining about missing this one video game you used to play. Apparently it was really chill but competitive. When you mentioned it was called AFK Journey Idia froze, he played a game with an uncannily similar name. So he introduced you to AFK Adventure, and found his heart jumping as you gushed passionately, comparing all the similarities and differences. AFK Adventure was still growing, and the fact that you played your version only months after it was released…he once again questioned if you really were a normie.

The final nail in the coffin was when you complained about how exhausted you were. The main reason why he classified you as normie was because you were social, you had friends, you barely had a phone! (That wasn’t your fault, you had no money after all). So when you complained that you were tired from all the socializing, that you found refuge in his room because you felt like you could truly relax by just playing video games…well he was a bit flustered to say the least. You found him comforting? You found his messy, gross room relaxing (Ortho tried his best to clean it before you arrived)? You enjoyed playing video games with him even if he would tend to blow up if someone annoyed him?

Idia found himself sharing more with you. It seemed like everywhere he looked (online) he’d find something about you to connect it with. You’d really like this anime, it seemed similar to one you described from your world. You liked chill games right? Well there's this mobile digital pet game you’d like, you just have to friend him. Oh, fanart of your fav character…he’d send it to you if he had the courage. He had also set you up with a pc, laptop, and upgraded your phone without a second thought. It was only to encourage you to go on games to give him rewards…totally.

And not to mention, when you first joined AFK Adventure, Idia kicked out a member from his guild to let you join. His other guild members were highly confused he let in a noob join since it was a whale only guild (don’t worry, you weren’t a noob for long…thank Idia’s credit card).

One night, when you both were playing a video game together, you had fallen asleep on his bed. The laptop he had given you was still running, but it was pushed to your side. Idia couldn’t help but feel his face heat up, you looked so peaceful in his space. That’s when he realized he wasn’t truly alone anymore, even if he stayed holed up in his room, you managed to wiggle your way to join him. You would rant about nerdy things to him only, a special privilege you hadn’t bestowed to any of your other friends. He had come to a conclusion that somewhat scared him.

Idia Shroud had a close friend, he wasn’t alone anymore.

#idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst wonderland x reader #idia shroud #twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #x reader

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lullxby · 4 months

Note

OMG, hiii!!! Never saw anyone taking requests for Niccolo before. 👀

How about Next-door neighbor Niccolo hc? Being able to see his window through yours 😮‍💨

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NEIGHBOURS (n.g.)

summary : in which a certain boy spent his whole childhood trying to get rid of you, only to realize that was the opposite of what he wanted.

w.c. : about 1k

a/n : eughhh i hate how this turned out but i told myself i had to get smth out

lowkey loved this request tho ty! 🫶🏻

also i might’ve spelt neighbours wrong idk

wattpad: poet1cmystery

warning(s) : stalking? bru idk 😭

| baby masterlist | navigation |

niccolo govender had known you since you were both children. for almost his whole life you had lived beside him. your families were close, which meant many nights were spent having dinner together. despite trying to get rid of you, it seemed he never had been able to escape the sight of your beaming face.

so, when the two of you were younger, you were close. but, with age, you guys grew apart, and now only spoke at aforementioned dinners. he hadn’t tried to stop it.

that didn’t mean he forgot about you. he’d see you in the halls, talking to your various friends. sometimes you’d wave to him. sometimes you wouldn’t.

lately, he’d see you at his house more and more. you began getting closer to camila, and spending more time with the girl, consequently seeing niccolo more often.

it all led up to one night, one life-changing night in nicco’s mind.

he had been lying in his bed, then saw a bright light flickering on and off from outside of the glass pane. after a few moments of the interruption, he pulled back the fabric of his curtains, coming face to face with your tired frame, a yellow flashlight in your hands.

he noticed how your grin spread as he locked eyes with you, your pretty smile reaching your eyes.

the sight puts a smile on his own face.

you gesture for him to open his window, as you slide open the glass on yours. he chuckles a bit at the request, but fulfills your wish anyways, giving you space to crawl across the old tree separating your houses, and into his bedroom.

his bedroom, where you had spent countless nights before, and were about to spend another.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

another time your parallel windows came in handy was when he was lost deep into the video hame he was playing.

you had been blowing up his phone, calling him, texting him, anything to get the boy’s attention. all of your extensive efforts proved to be futile when you went without answer for nearly an hour.

his eyes were glued to the screen in front of him, until he saw another flashing light from outside of his dark window, illuminating the bare branches of the tree in front of it.

after he finished the round, he took off his headset, thanks to the incessant flashing going on. he was worried you were in some sort of danger, and that was the only reason you could get his attention.

the thought didn’t make sense, but it was the best he had. but, instead of your expected pained imagine, he just saw you, holding up your phone and pointing at it. you mouthed the words ‘answer me,’ still jabbing a finger at the device.

he made sure his window was unlocked as he had left it, just incase, even in the dead of a wintery night, you’d want to sneak over to his house.

the fact he had ended the game for no reason made him roll his eyes, but he couldn’t help but have a growing smile at the fact you wanted to talk to him so bad. he liked feeling important, and that was exactly how he felt with you.

that was all it was, he had convinced himself. he didn’t like you. he just liked being feeling needed, special. it had nothing to do with the fact that his heart rate would pick up when you smiled, or the way his jaw would unintentionally clench when he saw you with another boy.

you just made him feel special. that was all he wanted.

right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

the most recent instance of your windows proving useful was something that benefitted him.

it was a bit past sunset, though not too late one summer evening. he had been sitting by his window, debating on going over to your room. despite living next to each other, he hadn’t seen much if you lately.

or heard much from you. he hated how much the fact worried him.

suddenly, your bedroom light flickered on. your curtains were sheer, making it easy for nicco to invade your privacy.

he knew it was wrong. god, it was so wrong, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away.

you stumbled in, being slightly pushed by a boy who looked to be a year or two older than you. you seemed to be enjoying it… sort of?

like it was your birthday, but you didn’t get the gifts you had wanted. still happy, but mildly awkward or upset, if that made sense.

before he knew it, he was walking through the night air, pounding at your front door.

it took a few moments, and a few more knocks, but eventually he was greeted with your familiar face.

shit.

he had just come over here, for no reason. he didn’t know what to say. you looked jaw-dropping.

how did he not notice that sooner?

his eyes ran over your figure, his mouth opening and closing multiple times. here he was, the typically rude, stand-offish boy, looking like s fish in front of you.

“my uh, my mom wants you.”

your eyebrows furrow. that was the worst thing he could’ve said. his mom wasn’t even home.

what the fuck was he thinking by doing this? what did he think would happen?

well, now you were shooing the other guy out of your house, small mumbled apologies tumbling past your lips as you slipped on a pair of shoes.

the guy was pissed, but got out after seeing niccolo glare at him, the act going unnoticed by you.

he walked back towards his house, you following him along, probably expecting some emergency.

safe to say, even with his parents and sister out of the house, you still spent plenty of time in his room.

divider made by h-aewo!

niccolo govender taglist: @trentknd @waterisnotreal0 lmk if you’d like to be added!

#niccolo rossi x reader #niccolo govender x reader #niccolo govender imagines #niccolo govender #niccolo rossi #harry potter imagines #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott blurbs #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott x reader

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yorshie · 1 year

Note

Dunno if you still take requests. But maybe for when you feel like it? (No pressure tho. You can totally ignore this if it isn't up you alley.)

How do them turtle dudes like to romance their honeys? Like who uses strategy (badly)? Who goes with the flow (also badly)? Who just blurts it out the first moment they realize what they're feeling (so SO badly)? And who just buries it behind heaps and heaps of repression (the absolute worst)?

And what about after being assured that their feelings are reciprocated? Is there a change in behavior or demeanor?

🧁

Cupcake Nonnie, I am so sorry. I have no excuse. I have no idea why this was so hard to write, or why it took so long.

I decided two birds one stone sort of thing with this one, a blurb about how exactly starting a relationship with each turtle might go, followed with headcanon style of what they would expect out of a relationship, how it would progress, and how a good relationship would affect them.

As always set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25, SFW

Michelangelo

By the time Michelangelo asked you to be his girlfriend, you low key thought you’d already been going steady for about a month. The turtle shows up like clockwork every Friday at your place, with a pizza and a soda, and the two of you stay up late watching movies while cuddling on the couch. Several times, you’ve woken to him stealing a hug or a nuzzle before leaving before the sun’s up.

So when he turns from the movie unexpectedly one night, the last item on your ‘what is Angelo about to ask me’ bingo card was a sheepish:

“Hey, babes, would you- will you be my girlfriend?”

You stared at him for a whole scene, taking in those baby blues, before you blurted out your own question. “I thought I already was?”

“Oh. Ok. Cool.” And he grinned like it was nothing, turning back to the tv, leaving you still staring at the side of his head like he’d turn back around with a ‘gotcha’.

Needless to say, you didn’t pay attention to the rest of the movie. Mikey, to his credit, picked up on your mood during the credits, and you had a long conversation over what exactly the two of you wanted to be to the other.

Mikey’s love language is physical touch and quality time spent together

Angelo loves PDA. Soft kisses and nuzzles, hugs, you name it, he’ll try and get away with it. One of his favorite things to do, because he’s a little shit, is to see how many innuendos he can fit into a conversation while still maintaining decency, just to make you turn red and his brothers sigh in exasperation.

Lowkey though, he doesn’t expect much from you other than your affection, and doesn’t have an overarching game plan. Sure, he celebrates anniversaries, but all the big milestones are simply tackled without him making a big deal out of them. One day you’ll just look up, realize you can’t tell where his stuff ends and yours begins, and have to come to terms with the fact that somehow the two of you are living together with no conversation about it happening.

Sunshine turtle approaches romance the same way he approaches life, with the firm belief that fun is the most important factor. Get ready for movie dates, late night parkour trips, canoodling on rooftops, etc. Just as often though, he will want to stay in. He’ll cook for you, cuddle while you while playing video games or watching a movie, include you in schemes and plans to drive his brothers crazy, anything to include you in his life or show off your bond to others.

There isn’t a big difference to Mikey’s behavior after he knows you’re into him, though now when he gets in your space he doesn’t hold back from touching you. Turtle was a flirt beforehand, he’s a flirt afterwards. The only difference is, now when he says something you know eventually he will get around to trying it. He says something flirtatious that gets a reaction? He’s not gonna forget, and he’ll bring it up at a later date.

He will stop flirting with everything that walks by eventually however. Guess calling you babes/babycakes/angelcakes in private had some spillover connotations (ie he can’t say it without thinking about you and it makes him gag trying to say it to anyone not you)

Donatello

Donnie’s blurted out his feelings for you in the middle of the Lair during Sunday Football. You’d arrived to find the turtles acting weird, leaving the room whenever you entered to grab snacks, suddenly making excuses and disappearing so every time you were left with an increasingly nervous Donnie who seemed to trail you around the Lair. By the time kick off happened, Raph, who seemed increasingly edgy, asked you to bring him another beer from the kitchen. You readily agreed, but when you turned from the fridge with the cold can Donnie blocked the way back to the others.

“Hey Don. You ok?” You asked, giving him a smile, craning your head back to meet his wide eyes.

“I like you.” He blurted out, practically looming over you.

You tilted your head, fighting the blush, convincing yourself not to read too much into it. “I like you to, Dee.”

When you went to move around him though, thinking the moment was over, he caught your hand, grip slightly sweaty. “No, I mean…” He waited for you to meet his eyes again, and he visibly swallowed. “I- I like you.”

You eyes widened, a second before your smile followed. “Oh! Dee…” You set the beer to the side, covered his hand with your own. “I like you too.”

His answering smile lit up the whole room.

Donnie’s love language is gift giving and quality time.

This turtle wants affection, but he doesn’t always know how to ask for it. You’ll have to pick up on his little cues to catch what he wants. Such as, if you notice him standing over you for periods of time before moving off and then returning, he might want to cuddle, and is just working up to asking for it. If you want things to go smoothly between the two of you, it’d be prudent to make a list of things you’re comfortable with and things you aren’t. It’ll stop him from worrying over things like hand holding and kisses, if he knows you’ll welcome his advances, and it’ll save you some headache trying to parse out what his nonverbal cues are if he is given free reign to just tell you what he would like.

Dee’s idea of romance is to spend time with you, in whatever way you’ll let him. If you want to park your butt and watch him tinker in his lab or the garage, this turtle is all for it. If you mention there’s a play you want to see or a museum you’d like to go to, he’s already scheming on how to get the two of you in. The turtle disguise doesn’t work as well on him since he’s so tall, but he can sit in the very back and turn into a ninja statue just for you.

He makes gadgets for you to stay in touch when you’re not with him, and readily goes into tangents about things you’ve said or done, or projects he’s working on for you. His brothers have learned to tune him out to various success.

As far as changes after the two of you start a relationship, it’s easy to say that that it’s leverage over him and his habits. If he needs to eat, sleep, or just get away from his computer’s before the blue screen fries his brain, his brothers send in you. He gets in a snippy mood and clearly needs a night out or a break, you’re the only one that can convince him to go. Ooo, feel the power.

With you in his corner, Donnie blooms. Yes, he’s a genius and a sarcastic little shit beforehand, but now he has a cheerleader, a partner in crime, someone to fuel his crazy schemes and to be his rubber ducky on occasion. Anytime any old doubt trickles in, he only has to turn to you and be reminded that someone is always there for him, through thick and thin.

Raphael

You ended up confessing your feelings for Raph long before he’d gotten the courage to say anything. He probably would have continued to ignore his feelings, if you hadn’t cornered him in his weight room and spelled it out, angry that he’d been successfully giving you the cold shoulder for weeks.

“Hey, you wanna tell me what I did wrong, or are you gonna go sulk in the corner?” You asked, arms crossed and hip cocked, blocking the entrance to the weight room.

“M’not sulking.” Came the instant reply, though Raph didn’t turn to address you directly. “What’re you doin’ here?”

“Leo said I could find you here.” You narrowed your eyes as he rolled his.

“Course he did, stickin’ his nose into-”

“Your brother isn’t my concern, you are.”

“Yeah?” He grumbled, still not looking at you, moving to rack up the manhole covers on his bar. “Why’s that, princess?”

Normally, that nickname made you feel special. Now, it pissed you off. Made you stupidly, sarcastically honest. “It’s probably because I’m not into him, I’m into you, dum dum.”

The weights clanked loudly together, and he turned just his head, glared at you. “Oh, real funny. Don’t go jokin’ about that.”

“I’m hilarious.” You answered. “And I’m 100 percent serious, Raphael.”

He turned to face you fully, head cocked, eyes slowly going from defensive to wide the longer you stood your ground. “You serious?”

You nodded emphatically, and he snorted, ran his hand over his face. “Damn. That’s fucked, babygirl.”

“It is not!” You started angry, but the wide smile on his face broke you out of the emotion.

Raph’s love language is verbal affirmation and physical touch

Yea this turtle can’t decide which is worse, telling you how he feels or seeing his large hands next to your small ones. But he so desperately wants to find the words, so desperately wants to ask you to hold his hand. Expect for him to start coveting private moments with you. He’ll agonize over what to say, what to do. You’ll have to lead the way most of the time, at least at the beginning, until he gets over waiting for the other shoe to drop, for you to change your mind about him and all the issues that come along with him.

Date nights with him are simple. He doesn’t like people, doesn��t like to be out of his comfort zone. He’d rather stay in with you, or up on the roofs where no one can see the two of you. He is very aware of how he is different from a human though, and so he will go out of his way to make sure he can bring normal things to the relationship. His gut instinct is to turn down anything new immediately, but all you have to do is pull out the goo goo eyes and he will bend. He wants to be helpful as possible to you to make up for the things he can’t do, and it’s up to you to make sure he understands how appreciated he is.

He loves to hear you voice your feelings for him, but he won’t outright ask for confirmation. Expect quiet moments where the two of you simply exist in the same space, or maybe cuddling while talking. Raph doesn’t like to be reminded of how different the two of you are though, so you might spend some time reassuring him that you love him, without telling him you don’t care about how different he is, because he will not believe you, or worse will get upset.

The differences in Raph are a long way down the line. At first, he might be even a little more standoffish, doubt and worry overtaking his usual responses. You’ll have to be dedicated to get anywhere past the initial ‘there’s no way this is gonna work, we’re both crazy for thinking this would work, you’re crazy for liking me, and I’m crazy for listening’ phase that will grip him hard. If you can weasel past that, however, be prepared to have someone that will never give up on you, ever. You’ll have a significant other that will come to your aid at the drop of a pin, at the first sign of trouble.

He’ll mellow out over time, become a little softer around the edges and a little less ‘the world is out to get me and mine’. He might even tolerate his brothers’ teasings over the two of you, as long as they do it where you can’t hear, trading huffs and denial for small smiles and easy laughter at their pointed questions.

Leonardo

You found Leo waiting at your window, the same way you’d found him countless times. This time however, when you let him in, you were concerned at his formal movements. He was always careful, but now he was watching you as though waiting for something.

“Hey, Blue?” You asked, moving automatically to start tea, the way you had every time he came to visit. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine.” He answered, and you could tell it was a knee jerk reaction, but you let it slide.

“M’kay, well, I was just about to start dinner? How does that sweet chicken with the rice I made last month sound?” You asked, already knowing his answer, moving to grab the ingredients.

He surprised you by moving into your space, catching your hand. “Can we talk, for a moment, first?”

You turned to give him your attention, careful to keep your movements slow as you took his hand. “Sure. Of course.”

Leo stood there for a moment, petting his thumb over the back of your hand, before he took a deep breath. “Stop me if I’m overstepping, but I need to speak my mind.”

At your nod, he continued. “I like you, more than a friend, more than I should. I wanted- wondered, that is, if you could feel the same for me?”

If he had lifted his head at all, he would have seen your answer in the high wattage smile plastered across your face.

Leo’s love language is verbal affirmation and quality time spent together

This turtle has thought of everything. He’s intimately turned his feelings for you over and over in his mind, viewed them from every angle to inspect for marks or imperfections before he even accepts how he feels for you. Once he’s accepted them, get ready for slow burn romance. He has a sequence of steps the two of you must dance through in his head, and if you try and skip any steps he will want to backtrack to correct it. You want to hold hands for the first time and share a first kiss? He’s not going to turn down smooches, but he might not even notice you are posed for one, considering he’s too busy marveling at the feel of your much smaller hand in his.

Dates are simple things, he’s too paranoid to sneak into movies like Donnie or Mikey, instead he’ll go for walks with you, try and spot stars with you through the light pollution. If you want to do nothing but watch movies and lay against him, he’s in heaven, but he absolutely loves to hear you read from books out loud to him.

Expect lots of talks with Leo, but it’s less about sharing information and more he just wants to hear your voice, turn his brain off and simply exist for a moment where no one expects anything from him. Not to say he doesn’t listen, and not to say what you tell him isn’t important, but its calming to listen to simple workplace gossip after dealing with crime fighting and high stakes espionage. On the flip side, there will be times when he comes to you clearly lost in his head. In those instances, he just wants to be reminded that you care for him, that you’re by his side, that you willingly chose to be with him.

Most of the changes with Leo are the two of you are together happen privately, after all he is a very private person. The others don’t get to see him unravel, set aside everything bothering him. The first time you realized you cracked the code, is when Leo told you something that was bothering him, without getting defensive. Like he knew even if you disagreed with him there would be no judgement. After that, the two of you were inseparable.

The only outwards change, that everyone picks up on, is his sense of humor. Before, it only came out in high stress situations, during fights, one-liners to goad others into making mistakes. But after meeting you, it morphs into quiet, humorous observations. The first time he dropped a joke in the middle of dinner just to make you snort into your soup, his brothers froze, wondering what the hell was happening. Raph legit asked Donnie if body snatching was a thing and if they needed to quarantine Leo.

#fanfic ask #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #bayverse leonardo #bayverse raphael #bayverse michelangelo #bayverse donatello #bayverse leo x reader #bayverse raph x reader #bayverse donnie x reader #bayverse mikey x reader #tmnt bayverse x reader #cussing #cursing #my writing requests

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therentyoupay · 1 month

Note

How would you write Elsa falling first? I absolutely adore your loser Jack pining after put together Elsa, but how would you reverse their roles?

i promise i promise i did not mean to write a one-shot for this. and i SWEAR it is ACTUALLY a one-shot. it is the OLD-SCHOOL definition of a one-shot, because i opened this ask and thought, aw, wouldn't it be cute if i just wrote a little tiny ficlet to illustrate an example of this scenario instead? and then out came 5,297 words. in one sitting. in ONE SHOT.

i would also like the record to show that i LOVED this challenge, i love trying out new scenarios or styles that subvert all the habits i've gotten myself into over the past decade or so!! thank you for this ask!! and, also, let the record show, that even as i wrote a full 5k+ of fic leading up to a "she falls first, he falls harder" scenario, i still couldn't quite hit the mark... in this case, i think it's open to interpretation as to whether she falls first, or they fall at the same time. 🤣 ENJOY. p.s. LOSER JACK?? LMAO WHAT IS THIS

“Watch your head—“

She ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding the churning of what appeared to be a factory conveyor belt gone awry. A tiny creature smaller than even a Norwegian Mountain Troll cried out in dismay as a cascade of nutcrackers fell into a sorting bin meant for what appeared to be that latest handheld gaming device—the Swap, or something.

Elsa grinned at the chaos surrounding her—little elves scolding one another, scurrying about—and wasn’t the slightest bit embarrassed to see the Pooka—Bunnymund—grinning in delight at her delight.

(I told you, his eyes seemed to say, as he gestured for her to continue ahead of him through the vast workshop chamber toward the office tucked away in the back. You wouldn’t regret it, if you came with me.)

Without giving him the satisfaction—yet—Elsa merely took in all the productivity around them, and let her gaze sparkle with the Wonder she knew was in them; dryly, she marveled, “It’s July.”

“Christmas doesn’t take holidays, mate,” Bunny winked. “Especially not here.”

Elsa stuck her courage to the sticking place as they approached the office—the door was slightly ajar. No matter what happens, Elsa inhaled and exhaled; you can always go back to Ahtohallan, to Antarctica.

You don’t have to stay here—with them.

Strengthened by this truth, Elsa squared her shoulders and softened her face into something curious and approachable as Bunny opened the door, not bothering to knock.

“OI.” Bunny stepped through the office, holding the door wide, which allowed Elsa to wait at the threshold—suspended between two worlds, two moments, two paths… perhaps two different lives.

“WHAT—Bunny, how many times I say, KNOCK, this program, it is DELICATE—“

“I got a delivery,” Bunny interrupted, and his whole body flinched at the look she gave him, “Er. I mean. I got someone here who you might wanna meet.”

And if Elsa had known then what she knew now, she would have realized in that moment (when North laid eyes on her that July evening in the middle of his work on the newest rollout of the popular role-playing video game—the Sums, or something) that, truly, the future was always in motion, her path already treaded, and—despite all her beliefs, her past, her heartbroken memories—her heart was already preparing to have two homes.

Elsa had visited plenty of warm—tropical, arid, sweltering—and chaotic, sprawling places in her travels, but none quite compared to the utter bustle of the Workshop.

Over the next three weeks of her stay, Elsa grew accustomed to the factory’s noises, to the bickering between the elves and their strange adoration for her, to the yeti’s curious questions about her years at the south pole. They asked relentless questions about the melting ice caps, the fierce predators, and the tiny human-made stations; she answered them as best she could, having wandered Antarctica for only half a decade before Bunnymund happened to find her at the tip of Cape Adare. When she tried to explain that she was much more familiar with the Arctic, they listened politely, but they were clearly much less interested in land so close to home. They also had the strangest custom of bringing her icicles when they returned from their perimeter patrols; she was growing quite a large collection of them in the guest room in the Main House.

The others—called Guardians, she learned—flitted in and out of this headquarters at seemingly all times of day.

Sandy was shocked and delighted to see her again; they’d run into each other just once during the late 1940s, and only when Elsa was passing through a city—Barcelona, if Memory served—to familiarize herself with the changing of the times as quickly as possible.

Sandy made no delay in giving her a much more insightful tour of the Workshop than North’s exuberant one had been, which had focused rather on not-so-subtle hints at how wonderful a life it was to be a Guardian, and such wonderful news it was to hear that Elsa was intrigued by Bunnymund’s offer to meet them, and so wonderful that Elsa had been spending all these years doing all that she could to explore the wonders of the world.

(North was lovely, and welcoming, and fierce—and so boisterous!

And not subtle at all.)

After a few days of visiting the Workshop, Elsa grew comfortable enough to truly relax as she roamed its halls, visited the various stages of production, and occasionally caught up with Bunny as he flitted in and out of the Shop (“Easter is on Holiday!” he’d said, with another wink). She dined with North and his team of merry workers, often with Bunny, who, she learned, was rather too fond of eggnog, and sometimes with Sandy as well.

After only a few hours into Sandy’s first visit, Elsa allowed herself to laugh with her whole chest at the ridiculous antics, the absurdity of it all, the bickering among Sandy, and North, and Bunny—and allowed herself to be endeared by the clear respect they held for one another, by the lightness in the air, the distinct sensation of family. That night, Elsa didn’t immediately retreat to her room after dinner, as she normally would have.

The Memories were not so painful, here.

And their stories!

They regaled her each night over (and after) dessert—about this horrid creature named Pitch Black, about the Moon, about the Battle of Burgess—they all sounded like fairytales to Elsa, even if she, herself, had practically been living in one for nearly two hundred odd years.

The others told her of two other coalition members who fought beside them—both of whom were exceptionally busy, and who would not be journeying to the North Pole again until it was time to celebrate the Equinox.

Elsa was curious about Toothiana—and anxious, about the Memories she protected—and especially curious about the Guardian named Jack…

Frost.

She did not shy away from asking more about him—Elsa had far too little time to worry about such silly fears like embarrassment; immortality was funny like that—and her curiosity grew with each tale she heard. The Guardians spoke of Jack with a mix of fondness and exasperation—his mischievous nature, his loyalty, how bloody annoying he is, I tell ya, that’s what I say.

Elsa could not help but laugh at Bunny’s pervasive frustration with his teammate; his respect for Jack was clear, even if his patience was not.

Still… she had been wandering the world for over 200 years, and in all that time, she had never encountered any others like her, and certainly not anyone especially like her.

The thought of meeting someone who might understand, who might have powers like hers, stirred something deep within her— something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She caught Bunny staring at her in the midst of a reverie by the fire during an after-dinner coffee, so she crisply declared, “Don’t say it.”

“What’s that, Ice-pop? Sorry, couldn’t quite hear you over all of that Hope in your heart.”

Bunny, Elsa learned, was used to ducking snowballs.

Later that evening, as she stood by one of the desperately-tall windows in the corridor leading to her guest quarters—watching the snowflakes drift lazily from the sky—Elsa couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to actually meet him.

The thought of Jack—a potential ally? a friend? a teammate?—occupied her mind more and more as the days passed, and with each story the Guardians told, Elsa found herself hoping that this Jack Frost—a teacher? a guide? a confidant?—would be looking forward to meeting her, too.

Sometimes, late at night, she would lie awake and wonder what it would be like to have someone in her life who understood her powers as deeply as she did. She imagined his face, always in motion, always just out of reach, and felt a strange sense of—Hope? Elsa rolled her eyes at the ceiling. Anticipation? Perhaps.

Fear?

In these quiet moments, she found her spirit reaching out, as if she could almost call to him—but of course, he was completely out of reach, never having met her before, and likely, perhaps, not even knowing that she existed until only recently... But her heart would quicken at the idea of meeting this person like her, of seeing his eyes—what color?—filled with the same understanding, the same longing for connection that she felt.

What would he think of her? Would he see the strength she had built over centuries? Or would he only see the loneliness that still clung to her, despite all her efforts to cast it aside?

The questions swirled in her mind, mingling with a strange sense of exhilaration that made her feel both alive and vulnerable.

She could almost hear the laughter they might share, the way their powers could dance together in the air, creating something beautiful, something new.

And in those moments, she couldn’t help but smile, imagining a world where she wasn’t alone, where someone else could stand beside her in the snow, not as an adversary—

But as an equal.

“And did he wield ice magic as a human, as well?” Elsa pressed over after-dinner coffee in the drawing room, leaning forward in her chair near the fireplace. North’s giant hands were absurdly large compared to his delicate teacup. “Before he became a Guardian?”

“As a matter of fact—no. The power came later, AFTER Turning.”

Elsa considered his words carefully. Something about his expression seemed rather cagey; centuries of reading strangers’ faces had only honed her political prowess, which had been born out of survival as much as any sense of duty.

“North, tell me: why do you want me to join the Guardians?”

“I—ah! ELSA—

“Because ya’d be mighty good at it!” Bunny blurted, calling over from his newspaper reading on the other side of the drawing room, to North’s indignant sputtering, “if you wisened up and stopped hiding all Hope and Wonder!” And then, as an afterthought, “And it’ll keep Jack humble, I reckon!”

“ASTER!” North scolded fiercely, but he set the tiniest teacup down with the tiniest clink and placed the saucer on the coffee table with such deliberate care, even in his fit of anger, that Elsa couldn’t hold back a small, genuine smile.

“Dont’cha worry, Ice-Pop,” Bunny told her later, as they stood in the wide, cold corridor leading into the main entry chamber of the Workshop, where Bunny preferred to open his portals. Elsa quirked a brow at him, and he chuckled. “We’re not here to actually convince ya. We just want you to see that there’s another option. This Choice… well. Guardians gotta make it for themselves.”

She still had too many questions. How is it that I had never crossed paths with any of you but Sandy, before?

How is it that I have managed to avoid Pitch for all these years?

Why me? What can I really offer—when you already have someone who can already do what I do?

“You still have time before you have to decide. And you need to meet the rest, anyway. Just think about it, is all,” he said, all his wisdom seeping into the very air around them. He cracked open a portal and, a moment later, he was gone.

“Oh!” said an utterly beautiful creature, her wings fluttering with so much excitement and delight that she was practically vibrating. “You must be Elsa!”

Elsa and Toothiana took to one another with surprising ease; time had steadied Elsa’s heart, had taught her the patience and endurance and the strength of a glacier; time had energized Toothiana, who took charge of the world with her vast army and a wide smile. But it had been so long since Elsa had even felt anything remotely similar to the feel of holding onto her sister—and Toothiana understood, completely.

Toothiana shared stories of her own—a whirlwind of adventures collecting memories and moments, each one a treasure she held dear.

(Toothiana's eyes softened as she took Elsa's hands in her own, her understanding gentle yet firm. "I know what it’s like to carry the weight of Memories, Elsa," Toothiana whispered, her voice a comforting balm. "But here, with us, you don’t have to carry them alone. We’re all in this together, and we’ll help you find your way.”)

And Elsa found herself starting to believe her.

To Believe in them.

When the Guardians gathered around the fire—taking time, they said, to ensure that past mistakes were never repeated, that they carved out time for themselves the way they never used to—the conversation inevitably turned to their adventures, to answering Elsa's questions. Somehow, Jack always seemed to be at the center of their tales.

She was rather alarmed to realize the extent to which she had begun to wait for these moments, eager to hear more about Jack, piecing together an image of him in her mind that was as elusive as snowflakes on the wind. Why on earth does not a single Guardian commission a portrait, for goodness’ sake? But Elsa dared not ask for a Memory; apparently, there were still some things left worth being too embarrassed to ask for, after all.

So she contented herself with the way Sandy would add details to the story that the others had forgotten, conjuring up glowing scenes of Jack’s playful antics in vague, golden sand—flurries of snowflakes, intricate frost patterns on windows, and the gleeful laughter of children echoing through the air.

She would find all their efforts rather suspicious… if they weren’t all being so utterly obvious about their Hopes.

Thus, one evening, as they were all gathered around the fire, Elsa couldn’t help but ask, “How did Jack become a Guardian?”

Bunny’s keen eye sharpened upon her cheek; she withstood the scrutiny, allowing him no further entry to her mind, as he added, “Jack was chosen by the Moon, like the rest of us.”

“But Jack…” Toothiana’s voice was soft and somber and unusually serious; the atmosphere in the room shifted, its axis tilting ever so slightly. “He had a harder time accepting it. At first! That is.”

“Took him a while to figure out, is all,” Bunny held his boomerang up to the light, checking the polish. “He came around, eventually.”

“Why?” Elsa asked, genuinely curious.

Sandy floated closer, his golden sand forming an image of a young boy standing alone in the snow, his face a mixture of confusion and sorrow. The image flickered, and the boy’s expression shifted to one of determination and hope.

“Not easy for Jack, his Turning was,” North said, his voice softening. “Not easy for any of us… But Jack had no Memories of his past, no knowledge why he was Chosen. It wasn’t until centuries after his Turning that he found his center.”

“His center?” Elsa echoed, intrigued.

“FUN!” North boomed, smiling, and sending teacups clattering everywhere. Elsa clutched her saucer with both hands. “But not just ANY fun—bringing joy and wonder to children, making them BELIEVE in magic and in themselves. THAT is Jack’s true power!”

Elsa considered this as Bunny complained about dropping his boomerang polish and spilling it all over the carpet. Toothiana was laughing at him and offering to help in equal turns, as Elsa’s mind turned over the implications of centers—and Jack’s in particular. She had spent so long searching for her own purpose, her own… center? Do I have one? As well? Is that why Bunny had found her, out alone at the edge of the iceberg, at the exact moment when she had let it all go, had accepted that she may never find her purpose, that perhaps she did not have one—was that the moment that they had been waiting for?

And now, here in this team, Elsa might soon meet someone who had also once struggled with the same questions, who had found his answers in the most unexpected ways… It makes me, dare I say it… Wonder...

She glanced at the Guardians, each of them so sure of their place, their role in the world, with all their quirks and their trust and their happiness. They had found their centers, their reasons for being. And Jack—this mysterious figure who was off wreaking havoc in some apparently historic winter season in New England—had somehow found the same. She wanted to know more about this spirit who had lived in solitude for so long, who had found a family among these remarkable beings, and who wielded the same icy power she did, yet in a way so different from her own—or, at least, so they thought. Nobody could quite seem to explain to her the exact mechanics of it all.

The more she heard about him, the more she felt a growing need to meet him. She caught herself imagining what their first meeting might be like—whether he would be as mischievous as they said, or if they would take a liking to one another right away, bonded by their similar powers, their similar stories… Perhaps he might help her make sense of… all this? Maybe there was something in him that could help her understand herself better. Maybe he could be… another friend? An ally. A partner. Elsa did not care about the name; what mattered was only that they could learn from each other.

But still. She could not quite deny that her excitement at the chance of meeting him was, perhaps, a bit more complicated than all that.

“I still don't understand. You already have someone whose powers are like mine,” Elsa pointed out reasonably, just when the others had started to turn the conversation to simpler matters. “How could I possibly contribute?”

Bunny barked with laughter from the other side of the circle, over the recipe book he was now reading, preparing for their grand dinner to celebrate the Autumnal Equinox. Sandy giggled in golden, sparkling shimmers. North’s laughter was as reassuring as it was alarming.

“ELSIE, my dear,” North boomed as he strode closer to the wing-backed chairs that Toothiana and Elsa were hoarding by the fire, just under the wide window of the central tower, which overlooked the northern tundra. “It is not about powers alone! It is CENTERS.”

“And besides!” Bunny called out over his recipe book, adjusting his reading glasses over the bridge of his twitching nose. She could feel his cheekiness from the other side of the room, but Elsa was particularly amused by the way Toothiana’s whole body tensed up in preparation for Bunny’s antics. “You’re the better deal on both fronts, anyway!”

Toothiana scolded him for the next five minutes but hardly put any real fire into it, and North’s voice echoed throughout the study (“Now, now, Bunny—Jack has only been with us for two years now—and he has done SPLENDID job—“), and Sandy had already fallen asleep in his preferred winged-back chair by the fire, lulled into a nap by the comforting sound of his fellow Guardians arguing over something utterly ridiculous.

Late that night, as Toothiana hastily prepared for departure and her return to her endless work, she caught Elsa by surprise.

“We’ll understand if you would rather return,” Toothiana was gracious, so considerate in her efforts to not step on painful Memories, to not push Elsa too hard or too fast, too soon. “We recognize that this choice, this Oath, is not for everyone. But we hope you’ll consider it.”

Elsa nodded, appreciating the understanding in Tooth's eyes, though she couldn’t quite find the words to express it. The kindness and patience offered—by all of them—made her feel both comforted and conflicted; this was a choice she had to make for herself, but knowing she wouldn’t be judged either way brought a small measure of peace.

Toothiana let out a knowing smile that Elsa didn’t quite understand.

Two days before the Autumnal Equinox, the North Pole was strangely quiet; all others were out and about and attending to their centers, preparing their final tasks before they would all meet for the celebration, here in North’s home.

She thus found herself wandering the hallways alone, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor, thinking of the word home, and how it had changed for her over the years—first, her kingdom; then, her sister; then, the secrets that lay in the depths of Ahtohallan, and then nowhere at all.

What was home?

She paused in front of a large, intricately carved door she hadn’t noticed before. There was something inviting about it, something that called to her curiosity. Without thinking, she reached out and pushed it open, stepping into a room bathed in a soft, ethereal glow.

The room was a gallery of sorts, filled with shelves upon shelves of intricate snow globes, each one containing a different scene—some of them cheerful, others serene, and a few that looked like they were mid-snowstorm. Elsa moved closer, her breath catching as she realized what she was seeing. Each snow globe was a memory—not one of Toothiana’s collections of course, but rather, a moving picture—a small clip of some film, captured in glass and suspended in time.

She reached out to touch one that was particularly beautiful—a snow globe depicting a small village blanketed in fresh snow, children playing and laughing as they built snowmen and threw snowballs. The scene was so vivid, so real, that she could almost hear their laughter.

“Beautiful, no?” a voice said softly from behind her.

Elsa turned to see North standing in the doorway, a fond smile on his face as he watched her.

“They’re not Memories,” Elsa whispered, more to herself than to him. “They’re… Reminders.”

“Yes. They help with the Wonder, of course.”

Elsa couldn’t move her gaze away from the glass again. “Whose are they?”

North stepped into the room, his presence filling the space with genuine warmth, with joy. “They belong to all of us. The children, the Guardians… and a few others.”

He gestured to a shelf on the far wall, where a single snow globe sat, slightly larger than the others. It depicted a lone figure standing in the middle of a frozen lake, surrounded by a dense forest. Snowflakes danced around him, but there was a sadness to the scene, a loneliness that tugged at Elsa’s heart. Her fingers itched to reach out and touch the glass.

“That one,” North said softly, “also belongs to Jack.”

Elsa’s breath caught. She had heard so much about him, yet she still knew so little. The thought of him, alone in this beautiful but desolate scene, stirred something deep within her.

Are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?

“Yes, he’s been through much,” North continued, his voice gentle, washing over Elsa’s rapidly-blinking thoughts, through the strange swell of sadness that swam through her chest. “But he IS strong, and has found his place among us. Still, there are parts of him that are… sometimes, difficult to reach. Things that… perhaps… someone may help… heal?”

Elsa side-eyed him, beneath her lashes. “You are growing less subtle each day, I fear.”

His boisterous laugh told her he wasn’t deterred in the slightest.

“Elsa, when few more centuries you have, you too shall learn when to drop SUBTLETY. No?”

Haven’t I already? But she humored him with a smile instead.

“Whatever you decide—we will support you, your Majesty.”

Elsa’s smile slipped, without her meaning to. Throat thick, she whispered, “No one has called me by that title for a very long time.”

Her eyes pricked with tears as North stepped closer to her, looking down at her—the way her father used to. The way her father might have, had he lived long enough to see her step into her own power, at last.

“I do not call you Majesty because you were Queen, or Snow Queen; I say because I remind you that what you have, and what you are, at your center, is FULL of that which makes living so majestic. It is my sincere wish that—“ and Elsa inhaled at the strange expression that passed his face, the soft mix of hope and resignation all at once— “You will choose the Oath with your full heart.”

Elsa wanted to thank him, but she didn’t want to lie; before she could settle on the perfect breath of diplomacy, North patted her shoulder in reassurance, and left the gallery, leaving Elsa with all the Reminders that were not hers, but insisted she be strong, anyway.

She gazed into the large snow globe, at the figure standing alone on the frozen lake in the deep forest, and Wondered, truly, for the first time, This was also my past…

Will I also find my future here, too?

The Equinox arrived, at last. Elsa had fashioned herself a dress for the occasion, and the excitement buzzing through the Workshop was palpable—everywhere she turned, there were smiles and knowing glances exchanged between the elves and the yetis, as if they all shared a secret that she was just on the cusp of understanding, but not quite privy to.

Elsa did not startle at Bunny’s sudden entrance behind her, but it was a near thing.

“Stop twitching,” Bunny muttered as he sidled up beside her, at the window, where she was watching the horizon and waiting for the other Guardians to arrive. When she glanced up at him, she found his nose twitching in nervous anticipation. “Don’t overthink it, Ice-pop. Jack’s a handful, but he’s got a good heart.”

“Oh? No further jabs at your friendly foe?”

“Nah,” Bunny grinned. “Today, I’m on my best behavior. Scout’s honor.”

“You mean ‘Toothy’s honor’.”

“Aye, that too.”

She considered pointing out that his nose was equally twitchy, but she let it slide.

Elsa understood.

And that understanding grew as some of the Guardians started to all trickle in at once; Toothiana sent wide glances about and around the room upon her arrival, and later, as she fussed with the elves’ itineraries, kept catching Bunny’s eye when they thought Elsa was not looking; Sandy checked his watch repeatedly after greeting them all with warm, sandy hugs; perhaps he was conscientious of the time… and yet… North’s laughter was too loud to be completely genuine. Elsa was beginning to understand the true purpose of tonight, swiftly and deeply; this night was no mere dinner, and no simple introduction. Tonight was an audition. An interview.

A trial.

At this point, Elsa didn’t even mind the inquisition; she just wanted it to start.

The storm outside had been raging for over an hour, and yet there was still no sign of Jack. The wind howled, whipping snow into frenzied swirls that danced and spun against the windows of North’s Workshop. The Guardians stood by the large bay window, watching the tempest with a mixture of awe and concern. Elsa had seen far fiercer storms before… but seeing this storm here, now…?

Elsa didn’t know what to think.

“Where do you suppose he is?” Toothiana murmured, her wings fluttering nervously as she peered out at the swirling snow. “When I got off the globe with him a few hours ago, he’d been in a good mood! Do you think he got distracted along the way?”

Sandy nodded, his golden sand forming an image of a snowflake, delicate and intricate, before it dispersed into the air. North stroked his beard thoughtfully, his gaze never leaving the storm.

“Such a nuisance,” Bunny agreed, his ears twitching as he squinted into the whiteout. “But he’ll wear himself out soon enough. Let’s get started, shall we?”

“Perhaps we might,” North rumbled, his voice filled with a deep, resonant certainty. “Jack may wish to make GRAND entrance—”

Elsa stood slightly apart from the others while they discussed, her eyes fixed on the tempest outside. The storm’s power called to something deep within her, something she recognized and understood. She had created countless storms like this, back in her darker days, when her emotions had been a force she couldn’t control. Here, she’d wanted to be a good guest, so it had been a month since she’d truly put her powers to proper use, out in the relative safety of the deep Antarctic deserts. But this…

There was a wildness to it, a reckless abandon. This storm wasn’t about emotion. It was—it’s—

He’s playing!

Just as the words passed through her mind, a voice suddenly piped up behind them, casual and completely out of place in the loud, bustling, tense atmosphere.

“What are y’all looking at?”

The Guardians turned as one, startled by the unexpected intrusion. There, leaning against a large shepherd’s crook, was someone who could be none other than Jack Frost—his expression one of casual amusement as he took in the scene before him. He had somehow appeared without a sound.

The room, which had been brimming with anticipation, fell into a moment of stunned silence, then burst back into noise and life in the very next breath.

Elsa blinked, her heart still racing from the intensity of the storm and the weight of her expectations. But now, seeing Jack standing there, looking so nonchalant and distant, she didn’t know whether to laugh or feel disappointed. He was lean, with his staff slung over his shoulder, and there was an air of mischief about him, tempered by something darker, something cautious.

North was the first to fully recover, letting out a booming laugh that overpowered the other surprised voices in the room. “Jack, you never fail to surprise us! We were just admiring your WORK outside, no?”

Jack grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Oh, that? Yeah, just setting the mood.”

Bunny rolled his eyes, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re a menace, Frostbite. You know that?”

Jack shrugged, his grin widening. “Just doing my job.”

Elsa felt a strange mix of emotions as she watched the easy banter between Jack and the other Guardians. She realized, perhaps too late, that she had built up this moment in her mind, imagining a dramatic, powerful entrance that would define their first meeting. Instead, she was faced with the reality of Jack Frost: a mischievous, irreverent spirit who seemed to take very little seriously, including the storm he had unleashed.

It was at that moment—in her quiet evaluation, her unexplained disappointment, her curious, lingering hope—that Jack caught her gaze.

Blue.

The playful expression slipped away, just for a flash; his blue eyes met hers, and she saw something there amidst the lingering laughter—something raw and guarded, something that told her that, like her, he was grappling with his own mixed expectations.

For a fleeting moment, Elsa’s breath caught in her throat, not just from the intensity of his gaze, but from the unexpected warmth that spread through her, as if she’d been touched by a sudden gust of spring wind.

“Jack, Jack, my boy, come—meet Elsa! Our dear Elsa—this is Jack, our newest Guardian.”

Elsa’s heart leapt into her throat. The room seemed to hold its breath as Jack hesitated—and then he stepped forward, approaching them at the window; Elsa stood patiently at Bunny’s side, watching Jack’s tousled white hair catch the light of the whiteout outside, watching as his blue eyes deliberately scanned the decorations around the room.

Jack Frost… ?

Elsa waited, patient as a glacier as Jack’s smirking gaze flickered over the gathered Guardians as he reached them, and he saluted North with a deliberately careless air. His smirking gaze lingered on each of them before finally landing on hers.

“Yeah, I’ve heard a lot about you,” he replied. His tone was not unkind, but deliberately casual. “New Guardian, right? They’ve been talking about you non-stop.”

There was a hint of something sharp in his voice, and Elsa felt a pang of anxiety, which she pushed down; Bunny was covering his muttering face with his hand, and Toothiana was rolling her eyes to the ceiling in dismay—or perhaps prayer. Elsa quickly assessed the crisp stare and the hard line of his jaw; she’d been hoping for warmth, for understanding, but what she found in Jack’s gaze was something closer to suspicion.

Keeping her gaze on his, trying to ease the tension she could feel coiling between them, she softly corrected, “I’m not a Guardian.”

At least, not yet…

Or so I…

Elsa felt her chin raise; old habits falling back into place; perfect and pretty and polite, all smooth ice underneath; an effective mask for a Queen.

“I’m here on an invitation,” she said softly, and knew that he would not see the ice daggers in her eyes; not yet, although she was certain he was looking for them. “I’m very grateful to North and all of you for hosting me in honor of this autumnal celebration.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

That is suspicion there, isn’t it? And guardedness… He was trying hard to hide something behind a facade of coolness—some debonair indifference. Elsa recognized the act immediately but played along because there was something else there, too, something that made her heart ache with a familiar loneliness. I’m an ally, she tried to impress upon him through nothing more than the thought. Enough of this!

I could be a friend!

But then, Toothiana swooped in, her wings fluttering with a cheerful energy that instantly distracted them—if not immediately lifting the mood.

“Well! Isn’t this just the perfect way to spend the Equinox?” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together, drawing their attention away from one another; Elsa was grateful for Toothiana’s quick thinking, her impressive tact. “Jack, I’m sure you’re energized and starving for a glass of eggnog after all that storm-making. Let’s not waste any more time!”

“Uh, did Bunny make it?”

“What’s it to ya, you little twerp?” Bunny shot back, narrowing his eyes with mock suspicion.

Jack grinned, the tension easing slightly as he fell into what must have been familiar banter. “Just making sure it’s safe, is all. Wouldn’t want our guest of honor to get sick on her first night here.”

“Actually, she’s been here for over a month now—“

Elsa watched the exchange (Jack was rolling his eyes) with a mixture of amusement and relief and… unease. (Toothiana’s interruption had indeed worked wonders, shifting the focus away from the awkwardness of their initial encounter and giving everyone, including herself, a chance to breathe.)

(And yet… the warmth of the room contrasted sharply with the chill still clinging to her thoughts.)

As they all moved toward the dining room, Elsa fell in step beside Toothiana, grateful for the other Guardians’ subtle (for once!) alliance and support. She marveled at how, even two centuries since her last political summit, Elsa still remembered every step of walking into a political negotiation; Elsa knew how to navigate delicate situations, how to read the subtlest shifts in tone, how to win.

Elsa had always been a fine Reader of the Room; centuries of invisibility had only strengthened her skills.

And so the Trial begins…

This first impression was a test—one she intended to pass.

And although Jack started to relax once they were all seated and well into the evening—his guarded expression giving way to something more genuine as he bantered with Bunny and teased North about his over-the-top decorations—the knots in Elsa’s stomach remained.

How could she make him see that she wasn’t here to replace him—but to find her own place among them?

The Guardians fell into their usual rhythm as they ate and laughed together, the conversation flowing (mostly) easily between them. Elsa, too, had found her own rhythm with the Guardians during her month-long stay, understanding certain inside jokes and the fascinating nuances of their personalities. But even as she joined in their laughter, the tension between her and Jack was palpable, thicker than the winter storm raging outside.

She observed how Jack's eyes flicked between her and the other Guardians, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he noted instances of the easy familiarity she had developed with them over the previous weeks. He joked along with everyone else, but there was a sharpness to his tone, occasionally—and it seemed that all the other Guardians could clearly tell, even if they were choosing to ignore it with varying degrees of patience… and understanding.

Elsa could feel him measuring every word she said, every laugh she shared with the others. It wasn’t just that she was new or unfamiliar—it was that she had quickly become a part of something that Jack had spent years, perhaps centuries, building with them.

All of the Guardians’ assurances and encouragement over the past month had not hinted at the true nature of their concern; Elsa realized quite quickly that this rift wasn’t something that could be resolved with pleasantries or polite conversation.

Winning his trust wouldn’t come easily—it would demand more than just time; it would require something deeper.

Later that night, after everyone had retired to their quarters or gone out for their evenings of work, Elsa found herself wandering the halls of North’s Workshop, her mind a whirl of thoughts and emotions, as was her wont.

The evening had not exactly gone to plan, but she supposed it could have been worse. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Jack still viewed her as a threat. It bothered her more than she cared to admit. She’d need to discuss it with Toothiana tomorrow. Perhaps they might lend me a snow globe?

As she rounded a corner, headed toward the snow globe Reminder gallery, she nearly collided with Jack himself—who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. He was leaning casually against the wall, his staff resting on his shoulder, but there was a tension in his posture that belied his relaxed demeanor.

He’d been waiting for her.

“Jack,” she said, startled but keeping her voice steady; once more, familiar, old-fashioned patterns of politeness resurfaced in her moment of uncertainty. “I beg your pardon. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. “Could say the same about you. Can’t sleep?”

Elsa hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. “Just... thinking. It’s been a lot to take in.”

Jack nodded, though he didn’t seem entirely convinced. He pushed himself off the wall and took a step closer, his expression unreadable. “You know, everyone seems pretty excited about you joining us. North, Bunny, even Tooth—they all think you’d be a great addition.”

She could hear the ‘but’ hanging in the air, unspoken but heavy between them; the way addition sounded like replacement.

Elsa squared her shoulders, meeting his gaze head-on. There was an intensity in his eyes, a challenge that sent a shiver down her spine, though she quickly attributed it to the cold. “Jack, I’m not here to replace you.”

The words hung in the air, sharp and clear. For a moment, Jack’s expression flickered, something vulnerable and upset flashing in his eyes before he quickly masked it with a smirk. “Who said anything about that?”

“No one—listen to me, I know you’re worried,” Elsa continued, refusing to let him deflect. “But you have no need to be. I’m not here to take your place. I’m here because…” Why am I here? “I was invited. I am simply getting to know you all better. I’ve been alone for some time.”

“Spare me the politicking,” Jack huffed, which, indeed, Elsa did take offense to. Especially since she genuinely had not been trying to be diplomatic; just careful.

Perhaps he didn’t believe her story… about being alone?

The idea was more painful than she expected.

Elsa’s eyes narrowed slightly, holding Jack’s gaze. “I’m not here to play games, Jack. I’m just looking for where I might belong—that is all.”

“Will you take the Oath, then? What’s your center?”

Elsa couldn’t explain it, but this struck her as an absurdly personal question. Still. She could recognize a caged animal when she saw one. So, Elsa took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his question press down on her. The idea of the Oath, of finding her center, had been something she had pondered endlessly since she’d learned of its existence—perhaps since her arrival, if she was being honest. But to be confronted with it so directly by Jack, someone who still seemed to see her as a rival, made it all the more daunting.

“I’m not sure,” she finally admitted, her voice quiet but steady. “I’ve been... trying to understand what it would mean for me to take the Oath, to become a Guardian.” She willed him to understand, at last. “It’s not something I want to rush into without being certain.”

Jack’s gaze remained fixed on her, his blue eyes sharp, but there was a flicker of something softer there—a recognition, perhaps, of the honesty in her words. “And your center?” he pressed. “Do you even know what it is yet?”

Elsa hesitated again, her thoughts swirling. A long time ago, she had known who she was, what she was meant to do. She’d thought so.

But after everything she had been through, all the loss, the isolation, and the rediscovery, she wasn’t sure if her center was what it once had been.

“Perhaps I might have, once,” she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper. “But now... Regardless of whether or not I join you, I’d like to think that there is something at the core of why I am still here.”

“In the Workshop?”

“No, I mean… I mean here.”

Jack tilted his head, studying her with a mix of curiosity and caution. Something told her that she finally got through to him, just a little. Elsa felt herself feeling sympathy for him; even after becoming a Guardian, he was still filled with such…

Fear.

Doubt.

He didn’t respond immediately, his expression unreadable. For a brief, startling moment, she wondered what it would be like to stand by his side, to take the Oath together—as allies, as... something more?

She brushed the thought aside, but the idea lingered, persistent.

Then, finally, he let out a small, almost reluctant sigh. “It’s not easy, you know. Being a Guardian. Finding your center. It’s... it’s not something you just, like, stumble upon.”

“I understand,” Elsa said, her tone sincere. “But if there’s a chance that this is where I’m meant to be—then I’m willing to take that risk. I’m not interested in taking that away from you. You—you haven’t even seen what I can do yet! We don’t even know how much overlap we’d find in our powers, anyway!”

“You impressed Bunny in Antartica,” he practically accused. “That’s enough to say something, isn’t it?”

Elsa was trying her very best to remain steady and calm. “And what about you? What did it take for you to find your center?”

His eyes snapped back to hers, and for a moment, she saw something raw and unguarded in his gaze. “So they didn’t tell you everything, huh?”

She gaped at him. Honestly!

Elsa took a deep breath, steadying herself as she met Jack's gaze. "Jack, you’re being ridiculous. I’m not here to steal anything from you—certainly not your place among the Guardians. I haven’t even decided if—I don’t know if—“

“I already know you’re gonna join us,” he said, almost in a whisper, as if admitting something he hadn’t wanted to face.

“Oh?” Elsa raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious. “And what makes you so sure?”

Jack hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching hers, and then, with a passion she hadn’t expected, he replied, “Because there’s nothing better. There’s nothing like it. It’s everything.”

Elsa was stunned by the raw intensity of his words, the conviction in his voice. She could see it in his eyes—this was more than just a responsibility, more than just a role for him. It was his purpose, his identity—his life, or whatever this agelessness was. For a moment, the air between them seemed to crackle with something unspoken, a deep understanding that went beyond words.

She felt her heart skip a beat, a strange mixture of emotions swirling within her—curiosity, admiration, and something else, something unfamiliar. Her pulse quickened.

Jack seemed to realize the weight of his words, and he quickly looked away, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “Wait. I... I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting,” he said, his voice softer now, more hesitant. “I guess I’ve been... on edge, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

Still shocked by how deeply his declaration affected her, how his passion stirred something within her that she hadn’t felt in a long time, Elsa softened at his apology, nodding slightly. “I… understand. And I accept your apology. I appreciate… you saying that. I’m sure it wasn’t easy to come home and see someone new in the middle of it all.”

Elsa thought she heard him laugh under his breath, mouthing the word Home—

Jack nodded, his shoulders relaxing just a bit. “Yeah... it is. Anyway. I’m tired. I think I’m gonna call it a night.”

Elsa watched him start to turn away, a sudden sense of urgency bubbling up inside her. “Jack, wait—”

He paused, glancing back at her, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. They were so wide, when they weren’t glaring!

“Shouldn’t we start over?” she asked, her voice gentler, almost tentative in her rush. She extended her hand toward him. “My name is Elsa. I happen to wield ice magic. E. Aster Bunnymund found me on an iceberg a few weeks ago as I was in the middle of creating a particularly notable blizzard, and he invited me to meet his friends, whom he loves and respects very much.”

Jack looked at her hand, then back at her face, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. Slowly, a smirk crawled over his face.

“Alright, I’ll bite,” Jack floated closer, and Elsa held steady—stories or no stories, she had not been prepared to see him fly! “I’m Jack. I also happen to ‘wield’ ice and frost magic. Bunny did not find me on an iceberg, but I’m pretty sure he’d love to stick me in one. Nice to meet you, Elsa, who promises not to steal my spot on the A-team. Welcome to the madness,” and he reached out and took her hand in his, giving it a firm shake.

The moment their hands touched, a strange, electric current seemed to pass between them, and Elsa felt her breath hitch in her throat.

Oh—

He’s—he’s rather handsome, she realized with a start.

They held each other’s gaze for a moment longer than necessary, the air between them thick with something she could not, would not name.

Jack was the first to break the silence, his voice a little rougher than before. “Yeah... maybe we should—”

They let go of each other’s hands, but the sensation of his touch lingered, warm and unsettling. Elsa felt a flush creep up her cheeks, unsure of what to make of the emotions swirling inside her.

“Uh—goodnight, Elsa."

“Goodnight, Jack,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt.

And with that, he turned and disappeared back into the shadows of the corridor, leaving Elsa standing alone in the soft glow of the snow globe gallery. She watched him go, a mix of hope and uncertainty swirling in her chest. The conversation had been difficult, but it had also been a step forward—a tentative, fragile step toward something more. Right?

As she turned back to her quarters, Elsa found herself tracing the line of his smirk in her mind, the curve of his jaw, the sharpness of his eyes—after weeks of wondering about what he might look like, might be like, she finally had the vision, the Memory of his face.

She rushed with the ornate door handle of her guest room, eager to be inside her room, alone, in the peace and quiet, and finally process the events of the evening, to reflect on all that she'd learned, she'd accomplished, she'd proved.

Exhausted by the sheer weight of so many careful decisions in so short a time, Elsa closed the door behind her with a deep sigh. Exhausted, yes, but also satisfied. She shut her eyes as she leaned against the back of the door and allowed herself a small, tentatively victorious grin, content in the knowledge that when she drifted off to sleep that night, the echoes of their meeting, their tentative truce would fill her mind; this moment gave her, indeed, a sense of Hope that she hadn’t felt in years...

But, in her mind, the Memory that lingered most vividly, as she tossed and turned—was his face.

ao3 ✨

#08192024 update #fixed some typos!!! some missing italics representing thoughts which i think tumblr ate!!!#jelsa #sanfangirl-cynicalromantic #I LOVE YOU LADY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL OF YOUR SUPER THOUGHTFUL ASKS #therentyoupay two homes #therentyoupay fic #therentyoupay fic prompts #therentyoupay ask #ngl it's also so good for me to just write one-offs and ficlets and prompts every once in a while!!#A PALLTETTE CLEANSERRR #also spoiler alert if jack is not pining then ELSA IS THE ONE PINING LMAO

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