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#but this just feels so dismissive of returning fans
malefilus · 2 years
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I’m really sad about it but I really am not looking forward to the next Dragon Age game. All of the press and statements that have been released just feel like it’s gonna be a let down in one way or another. I understand that the company and devs want to draw in a wider audience and get more people interested in the series, but the statement of ‘you won’t need to play the first games to play this one’ really concerns me. As well as them saying the Inquisitor won’t be a huge factor nor will your (possible) romance with Solas? A huge part of why I personally was looking forward to this game was that tie in. That ending of will it be a bitter end truly or will there be a chance for some sort of happiness? I felt before the announcements a bigger sense of need to not mess up my choices. Now I just feel like it’s going to be a horrid let down and something that ties in poorly with not so great character development. I’m hoping I’m wrong but man, it really is looking like this isn’t going to be a game for the older fans.
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tequilaasquared · 4 months
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So I totally agree with the sentiment that S6-9 was painful without Mickey because I almost gave up myself. But I’ll be an Ian Gallagher defender to the end and I really hate when his own stans dismiss his storyline because Mickey wasn’t there and they hated his love interests.
Him becoming an EMT was arguably one of his most important story arcs throughout the whole series and it was crucial to his character development. And more importantly (for me anyways) it was such positive representation of life after a bipolar diagnosis. Watching someone deal with a life changing diagnosis and not be villainised by the narrative and see them make something of their life and have a career and stability, was so inspirational to me.
(I’m not including the s8-9 gay jesus storyline in this rant because I acknowledge that it WAS objectively poorly written despite it having potential)
I totally understand if Mickey is your fave and you aren’t interested in Ian’s arc without him. I get that the show would be boring and a waste of your time if your fave is gone and none of the other characters are interesting enough for you to continue watching. But to see Gallavich stans call Ian’s development trash and outright invalidate it is always so disheartening to me. Especially when I’ve seen the same people praise the other Gallagher sibling storylines just to purposely dismiss Ian’s. Like you can just say you weren’t interested because Mickey wasn’t with him without shitting on him.
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theostrophywife · 10 months
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chicken noodle soup.
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pairing: mattheo riddle x reader
song inspiration: is it really so strange? by the smiths
author's note: just a soft fluffy comfort fic cause i've been thinking about matty lately and i needed cheering up after the end of kwaf. let's all laugh at the fact that i set a 1k limit on this fic only to fail miserably lmao 😭
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Mattheo Riddle was not a fan of Mondays. 
Most of the time, Mattheo spent the first day of the week nursing a hangover and getting higher than a hippogriff at the Astronomy Tower with his friends to achieve equilibrium. The only thing he looked forward to every week was the prospect of riling you up in class. To be fair, it didn’t take much to get under your skin. Being himself seemed to do the trick. 
As he walked through the castle halls, Mattheo smiled to himself as he plotted out all the different ways he could provoke you on this dreadful day. For some sick and twisted reason, he reveled in the fact that only he could manage to rouse such a violent reaction out of you. There was something satisfying about the way your eyes blazed, your rosy cheeks tinged with heat as you told him off.
Maybe he'd flirt with you today. Tell you how good you looked in your short little skirt. Watch as you turned as red as the tie around your neck. His pretty little Gryffindor good girl. In Mattheo's mind, you were his to tease and taunt.
With his usual swagger, Mattheo sauntered into Advanced Transfiguration fully prepared to test out his new tactics on his nemesis, but you were nowhere to be found. 
At first, he figured that you were just running late. Throughout the duration of your rivalry, Mattheo had never once witnessed you skip class. He would’ve bet his entire cigarette supply that you’ve had perfect attendance since first year. When Professor McGonagall started the lesson and you were still missing in action, Mattheo was understandably concerned. 
The uneasy feeling in his stomach didn’t mean that he was worried about you though. This was purely about mutual benefit. Mattheo couldn’t very well have his Transfigurations partner skipping out on lessons. Even though he regularly did so himself. But still, that was different. Everyone knew he was a delinquent. You, on the other hand, were anything but. Until today, you’ve probably never missed a class in your life. 
Mattheo waited. Surprisingly, the two of you had the majority of your classes together. All of which dragged more than usual since you weren’t there to yell at him for dicking around. When you still hadn't turned up for Charms or Herbology, he became convinced that something was horribly wrong. Missing one lesson was alarming, but three in a row? That was entirely out of character for you. 
When Professor Sprout finally dismissed the class, Mattheo sauntered over to Granger’s desk. As always, she was surrounded by her two dimwit friends who immediately tensed the second he loomed near. Potter and Weasley shot him matching menacing glares, but Mattheo ignored them entirely. 
“Granger,” he drawled, leaning against the wooden desk. “Care to tell me where my partner’s been all day?” 
The Gryffindor girl appeared a bit perturbed by the question. “Why do you want to know where Y/N is?” 
Mattheo sighed in exasperation and produced the set of notes he’d taken during class. A first for him. He couldn’t remember the last time he actually listened to an entire lesson, let alone take notes, but he knew that you would have a million questions for him when you returned. The notes were his way of saving himself from your relentless interrogation. 
“Figured the little know-it-all would want my notes.” 
“Y/N is feeling a bit under the weather,” Hermione said cautiously. “I can take the notes to her if you’d like.” 
“No.” Mattheo declared rather suddenly. He cleared his throat and attempted to smooth over the sharp response. “No, McGonagall tasked me with it. I don’t want her docking points from my house when she finds out that you did my dirty work for me.”
Hermione raised a brow. “Sure.” The quirk of her mouth told Mattheo that she wasn’t convinced by his excuse. “Well, Y/N is resting up in the tower if you fancy a visit.” 
After a quick detour to the kitchens, Mattheo made his way over to Gryffindor tower. It was surprisingly easy to gain access to the lion’s den. He simply threatened a third year to let him in and got on with it. They truly needed to upgrade their security measures. One glare was all it took for Creevey to crumble and cave. 
With a satisfied smirk, Mattheo walked past the gaudy common room. For Salazar's sake, hadn't the Gryffindors ever heard of subtlety? The decor consisted solely of crimson and gold and the furnishings looked like something out of that muggle show his nan loved to watch—Antiques Roadshow. Antique was right. The worn out couch that he passed looked older than him.
Merlin, now he was starting to sound like Malfoy. Mattheo hurried along before he caught the urge to fold origami notes and chuck it at Potter's head. Fortunately for him, the place was devoid of the Chosen One or anyone for that matter.
By now, his fellow classmates were all in the Great Hall eating dinner, which he was thankful for. It was no secret that Mattheo’s presence wouldn’t be welcome here and he wasn’t really in the mood to fight his way through the Gryffindors just to deliver a note from the kindness of his black heart. Thank Salazar that there wasn’t a single soul in the tower to bicker with. Until he reached your dorm, of course. 
The relationship between the two of you was volatile to say the least. Despite Mattheo’s reputation, you weren’t shy about telling him off. When you were first assigned as partners, Mattheo had fully intended to let you do all the work while he skipped class to smoke, but he quickly realized that this would not be the case. You hunted him down at his hideout in the Astronomy Tower and discovered him blissfully sharing some premium grade mirthroot with Theo and Draco. When you found him, you were so angry that you dragged him by the ear all the way to the library, much to the amusement of his friends. Needless to say, Mattheo never missed a study session again. 
In a way, Mattheo admired you for it. Aside from his friends, everyone in the castle feared him. It was sort of refreshing to have someone call him out on his shit. Especially if that someone was a funny, feisty, ferocious Gryffindor who he enjoyed pestering every chance that he got. Mattheo always did have a penchant for girls with an attitude problem. 
Even as he knocked on your door, the Slytherin boy couldn’t help but chuckle to himself when he heard you grumbling from the other side. 
“Oh, for Godric’s fucking sake, what is it now?” 
The door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Y/N. Clad in striped pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, you placed a hand on your hip and frowned. Even in the throes of sickness, you still somehow managed to inject venom in your glare. Mattheo grinned like an idiot. 
“Nice slippers, princess.” 
You huffed, crossing your arms. “What do you want, Riddle?” 
“To make sure my partner doesn’t slack.” He waved his set of notes around. “Don’t think your sickness excuses you from studying.”
“This is payback for making you revise with me after you fell off your broom and broke your arm, isn’t it?” 
Mattheo cringed as he recalled the quidditch accident that sent him to the infirmary for a week. In true Y/N fashion, you were sitting by his bedside with a stack of books in your lap the second he woke up. Madam Pomfrey hadn't even put his arm in a sling yet before you were drilling him on proper spell enunciation and wand movements.
“You terrorized the infirmary with your mnemonics,” Mattheo said with a dramatic sigh. “It’s my turn now. This is sweet revenge, Y/N.” 
You squinted at his barely legible handwriting. “I’m just surprised you took your head out of your arse long enough to take notes.” 
“Glad to see that illness hasn’t lessened your bite. If anything, those teeth seem a little sharper than usual.” He leaned against the doorframe and smiled down at you. “Feeling a bit feral, princess?” 
“Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?” you quipped, baring your teeth at the aggravating boy. 
The gesture appeared intimidating for a full second until you sniffled and launched into a coughing fit, which made Mattheo frown. 
“Are you alright?” 
“Of course I am. I regularly cough my lungs out on nosy Slytherins whose sole purpose of existence is to make my life a living hell.”
He pressed the back of his hand against your forehead. The way his brow furrowed strangely resembled concern. Mattheo trained his chocolate brown eyes on you, examining the rosiness of your cheeks and the slight pinch of discomfort in your features.
"You're burning up." Mattheo's hand dropped from your forehead to the side of your neck. He pressed his fingers against your pulse point, feeling the erratic beating of your heart underneath his touch. It was strangely intimate. "You have an elevated heart rate."
You flushed and swatted his hand away. "Well, yes. That usually happens when one is ill."
"Come on, you should sit down."
"Don't tell me what to do, Riddle."
Mattheo rolled his eyes before dragging you by the elbow. Your protests fell on deaf ears as he barged his way into your dorm and walked you over to the bed. You watched as he pulled up a chair next to you before rifling through the contents of his backpack. Out of the sordid mess of his belongings, Mattheo produced a small container of soup. With a flick of his wand, he conjured a spoon. 
“Here, have some of this. It should help.”
As soon as he pried the lid open, the heavenly smell of chicken noodle soup filled your senses. Mattheo scooped up an equal amount of soup and noodle and blew on it to cool it down before tilting it towards you. The sight of him offering you food like you were some helpless toddler was only slightly insulting. You swore to Godric that if Mattheo started making airplane sounds, you’d strangle the bloody twat.
 “I can feed myself, you know.” 
“Just eat the damn soup, Y/N.” 
You rolled your eyes in return, but obliged nonetheless. Despite the source, you could never resist comfort food.
“Chicken noodle soup?” 
As soon as you tasted it, you knew that it wasn’t just soup. It was your favorite soup. The very same one that Winky made every third Wednesday of the month. You knew because you looked forward to it every time. It was even marked on your calendar. That’s how much you liked it. 
Mattheo nodded absentmindedly. “Yeah, I know it’s your favorite so I bribed Winky to make some.” 
You furrowed your brows in confusion. “How do you know it’s my favorite?” 
For once in his life, Mattheo looked utterly uncomfortable. He averted his gaze and busied himself by stirring through the carrots and celery. “You, uh, mentioned it in class once.” 
You couldn’t help but smile. Maybe it was the fever talking, but you thought that was sweet. “You remembered that?” 
Mattheo looked up, a stray curl kissing the tops of his cheekbones as he met your gaze. The shy smile on his face was alarmingly endearing. Sometimes when you looked at those angelic curls and stupid big, brown eyes, you forgot that you were supposed to loathe him. “Of course. It’s my favorite too.” 
You chuckled, sniffling a little. “It’s like a hug in a cup, right?” 
The curly headed boy nodded. “It totally is.” 
After you finished the soup, you expected Mattheo to take his leave. Instead, he inspected the vials of potions laying out on your night stand. He read through every label, frowning a little. 
“You should really have some pepperup potion in here.” Mattheo remarked as he arranged the vials one by one. “Are you sure this dose is potent enough? Maybe you should ask them to brew something stronger.” 
“Pomfrey prescribed them herself. No offense, but I think I’ll take her years of healing experience over your expert opinion.” Mattheo gasped rather dramatically, which made you chuckle. “As much as I appreciate the notes and the soup, I don't think it's wise for you to stick around. I’m feeling a bit better, but I might still be contagious.” 
Mattheo shrugged. “It’s alright, I’m not scared of a little cold. Besides, I still have to go over the Transfiguration assignment with you.” 
“Aren’t you worried that I’ll get you sick?” 
“Not really,” he said, waving off your concern. “I know you’re going to pester me about everything you missed in class, so I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone.” 
To your surprise, Mattheo’s notes were extremely detailed.  It was a bit hard to read given his boyish scrawl, but with a little help in translation, you were making great progress in becoming fluent in Riddle. The more Mattheo explained the concepts and ideas that were discussed in each class, the more baffled you were. You've always known that he was smarter than he let on, but this was borderline impressive.
“How do you know all of that?” 
“I asked.”
“You asked?” Mattheo stared blankly at your surprised expression. “You never ask questions in class.” 
“I never had to since you're always there interrogating the professor like the little know-it-all that you are. Thanks to your absence, I had to fill your role in class today.”
You grinned. It grew wider and wider, spreading until your cheeks hurt. Mattheo glared at your joyous expression. “What? What’s that shit eating little grin for?” 
“You missed me.”
Color flooded Mattheo’s cheeks. You were surprised to find how well crimson suited him. It was almost the exact shade of your house colors. “Don’t be ridiculous—”
“Riddle, you asked questions in class. You took notes for me. You brought me chicken noodle soup." Mattheo flushed as you pointed out the obvious. "You totally missed me.” 
“If you tell anyone, I’ll hex you.” 
“Admit it, Mattheo. Your day was utterly dull without me.” 
Mattheo rolled his eyes, sighing in defeat. “Fine, you’ve got me. I was bored out of my mind without you around. How else am I supposed to pass the time if you’re not there for me to argue with?” 
“There’s plenty of other people in the castle that you could bicker with.”
“Yeah, but they’re not you.” 
He seemed a little shocked by his own statement, but he didn't try to retract it. In fact, Mattheo almost seemed resigned to it.
“Careful, Riddle. It almost sounds like you have a crush on me.” 
“I’d have to be a bloody idiot to fall for a girl who absolutely despises me.” 
“That wasn’t a denial, you know.” 
He pinched the bridge of his nose like the very idea of it vexed him, but you caught the little smile he hid beneath his fingers. Mattheo snatched the notes from your hands. “Focus on the lesson, will you?” He grimaced as soon as the words left his mouth. “I can’t believe I’ve just said that. Look at what you’re doing to me, Y/N.” 
“You’ll live, Riddle.” You poked a section of his notes that you hadn’t quite deciphered. “Now what in the bloody hell is the Gobstopper Ruffian?” 
“The Goblin Rebellion. Merlin, my handwriting isn't that bad.” 
“Are you kidding? A kindergartner writes more legibly than this.” 
The hours passed while you bickered and bantered. You hated to admit it, but you missed arguing with him too. Laying in bed all day had you positively bored, but yet time passed within the blink of an eye as you went back and forth with Mattheo. Somewhere between discussing the possibility of Longbottom running an underground exotic plant ring and arguing over the best Smiths song, the sun had set over the horizon. Mattheo rubbed his eyes and yawned. 
“You look knackered, Riddle,” you teased, patting the spot beside you. “Do you want to lie down for a bit?”
Chocolate brown eyes widened at you. “Lie down? With you? On your bed?” 
“Yes, that’s typically how people do it.” You smirked as he shot you an apprehensive look. “Unless you’re too scared.”’
Never one to back down from a challenge, Mattheo lifted the covers and gestured for you to make room. “Scoot over, then.” 
The jest seemed to have backfired on you because now Mattheo was crawling into bed and making himself completely at home. All the apprehension from earlier melted as he pulled you against him, his chest pressed against your back as he nuzzled into the crook of your shoulder. You stifled a giggle as Mattheo released a satisfied little sigh. 
Mattheo wrapped his arms around you until you were covered in the scent of amber, cinnamon, and leather. You never expected to unearth the fact that Mattheo Riddle was a great cuddler, but yet here you were, reaping the benefits of this newfound revelation. He slipped his fingers through yours and nuzzled closer. 
"Who would've known that Mattheo Riddle was such a great cuddler?"
"If you tell anyone—"
"You'll hex me. Put a curse on my family. Set my possessions on fire. Yes, I know, Riddle. You keep threatening me, but you never follow through. I'm starting to think that you're losing your touch."
Mattheo squeezed your hip before twining your legs together. "I wouldn't test me, Y/N. You're in a very vulnerable position right now."
You chuckled as he scooted even closer. "Maybe, but you won't do anything."
"Why's that, princess?"
"You like me too much," you retorted, chuckling as Mattheo buried his face in your hair. "One day without me and you're already a needy mess."
"You infuriate me," Mattheo whispered against your ear. "But you're also the best part of my day. I couldn't imagine fighting with anyone else but you, my dear nemesis."
"I totally loathe you, Mattheo Riddle."
He chuckled as you snuggled into him. "I loathe you too, Y/N Y/L/N."
The irony of the statement contrasted with how tangled up you were wasn't lost on you. For two people who supposedly hated each other, cuddling with your enemy had never felt so right. The steady beat of Mattheo's heart lulled you towards sleep. You were slowly succumbing to its hypnotic lullaby until Mattheo's voice broke through the silence.
“Y/N?” He murmured against your hair.
You shifted, your eyes feeling heavy as his warmth enveloped you. “Hmm?” 
Mattheo’s voice was low and gravelly, flowing like honey in your ears. “This is nice.” 
You smiled against the pillow, staring at your intertwined fingers. “Better than chicken noodle soup?” 
You felt him grin against your skin before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss on your temple. “Way better than soup.” 
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@annaisabookworm @bubybubsters @criesinlies @niktwazny303 @therealallisonspear @athenalikethegoddess @clairesjointshurt @vixzwrites @elle4404
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yandereunsolved · 25 days
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Yandere Five w/ apocalypse reader— 'the end of the world is the most unfortunate circumstance to develop an obsessive trauma bond.'
Yandere Five had been but a barely pubescent teen when he so wisely chose to manipulate time to win an argument with his dismissive parental figure. It was jarring in the beginning. Everything he had ever known had been stripped from him. There was nothing left but debris and blood.
He always had his powers to aid him, yet for the first time they failed. He realized that his reliance on them is what caused this problem in the first place.
How could he be so idiotic?
Fastrack, six years or so, he tended to lose track due to the harsh winter blocking what was left of the sun and the overarching smog always present. Where was he going with this? Oh, yes. It made it difficult to calendar because of the extenuating circumstances.
It had to be about February when he met you. The snow had settled over more monotonous ruins of what was probably a rural town. Most of the sun rays were blocked by smog and strange cloud formations manipulated by the effects of it all. Still, he could see you, leaning against what still stood of a brick building, devoring a stale-looking twinkie.
"This one's interesting, huh, Dolores?" Think we're gonna have to shoot em'?"
Yandere Five ends up sticking by your side to culminate resources and find your true reasoning for being here. That's totally the justification, yeah. It isn't as if he is incredibly touch starved and on the edge of losing what little sanity he had. He just needs to figure you out. That he does, a little too well.
Yandere Five becomes overbearing. You can't tell if you are being questioned by your future murderer or stalker. He demands you answer all his questions promptly and with the utmost truth. He doesn't fluff them and act nicely or reply with basic human empathy. He simply loses his edge after he learns one more thing about you.
Are you allowed to do the same to him in return?
Absolutely not.
You learning about him is on a need to know basis. So if he feels that you need to know it, you will.
Take him by his word. You have to.
Yandere Five isn't the largest fan of physical affection, or physical anything in fact. It takes years in the apocalypse for him to willingly be touched by you. That's at least how he tries to appear. His expressions are always so blank and dismissive. A sarcastic quip is always on the tip of his sharp tongue.
Yet after only a few months of traveling together, he is more than eager to feel your skin under his.
He doesn't want to be near you, no, but you injured yourself by being foolish. He warned you against it, and still you continued. So now he is using some of the minimal medical supplies you both have so he can patch you up. If both of you were back pre-apocalypse, then he would definitely install a tracker inside your arm. For protection, obviously.
He doesn't want to be touched, no, but you're shivering. Losing the only other seemingly living human being, besides Delores, in the apocalypse would leave him at a great disadvantage.
He doesn't want intimacy with you, no. He has just to cuddle you to protect you and keep the nightmares away. He has to kiss your irresistible lips to keep your morale up. He has to let his thoughts about you to linger about in private, unexplored places so he may relieve himself to release relaxing and happy hormones. It's simple as that.
Deep down, he knows the true reason is that he has become utterly smitten with you. He has just chosen to do his best to gaslight himself, even though statistics state it only makes those feelings worse. Perhaps he wants that. Maybe he just wants one person in this fucked-up world that is his and his wholly and unequivocally.
Yandere Five even gets rid of his beloved Delores for you. He was growing paranoid about her. She kept teasing him about how lovesick he was. She was talking about starting to fall in love with you too. The final straw is when she said she wanted a threesome with you. In the dead of night, he disposed of her, a bullet in her head.
Strangely enough you dropped the subject after asking once. It puzzled him. Did you truly dislike Delores that much to be so nonchalant about her disappearance? Did you know what he did? Of course you didn't. You obviously hated Delores and are glad she is gone.
Good.
He likes it this way.
No more distractions, just you two.
Yandere Five doesn't want to figure out the equation to get back to his pre-apoctalyptic life. He writes down a bunch of meaningful numbers in chalk. They aren't coordinations for returning to the academy. They're calculations about your possible romantic relationship, sexual aspects, how submissive you are, and more.
He has detailed a four letter plan in his private journal.
S ubmissivness — how complacent are you? are you gullible to his tactic? how strong is your moral code? would you go along with him knowing how truly infatuated he is with your very existence?
I nterest — how are you feeling? what are your reactions? he needs to know every single thing about you. he needs to know all of your likes just as importantly as your dislikes.
N eutrality — how will his actions affect you and everything else around you? what is the path that will keep you closest to him while also making him seem like the one in charge? this is how we will know if he has gone too far.
S way — how close are others getting to you? are they looking to befriend you? are their true intentions more sinister? he has to analyze every expression and every movement of those who make any contact with you.
You call it his diary. It is not a diary! Diaries are for feelings; journals are filled with statistics. Besides, you won't ever find the location of his actual diary. He writes it in southern Sumerian anyway. You don't have a chance at deciphering it.
Yandere Five meets the Handler while you are snoozing away after a particularly hard day of labor. He can't believe the promise this strange woman puts before him. He works for this Commission for five years, and after that, he's good as done. He gets you in whatever place he wishes for the rest of your lives.
It's a bunch of bullshit as far as he's concerned. Miracles usually don't come with strings attached. Then again, does he really have a choice? He doesn't want to see you suffer anymore than you already have.
So he takes this once in a lifetime 'golden' opportunity.
Let's just hope this one doesn't bite him in the ass.
Yandere Five tells you that he has a way to get you out of here. The both of you just have to spend a little time away from each other. His body psychically aches while way from you, and it isn't just because he's a crotchety old man. The both of you weren't going to be young forever.
He doesn't necessarily hate the job until he learns that killing you is part of keeping the time continuum in check. He doesn't wait a day after learning that information. He takes your hand and escapes somewhere in the past.
Of course his calculations were rushed and were off in the worst possible way. Of course he ends up in the middle of his father's funeral, both of you stuck in your thirteen-year-old bodies. Of course Kalus has to make a sex joke about it.
Damn it! He wants to scream at the top of his lungs.
He needs you! He had you all to himself, and then other people just had to fuck it up.
It's okay. It's okay.
He'll figure out a way to stop all of this and keep you forever.
Forever. What a pleasant thought.
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simpxxstan · 3 months
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best friend's older brother mingyu
this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the members' headcanons in the event too as i post them through this month!
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warnings: SMUT 18+ NSFW, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT making out, dry humping, untouched orgasm, mingyu is a slight perv
thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who you haven't seen in seven years
ever since he'd been selected into the under-19 basketball team, and then the national basketball team for south korea, you'd only ever see him on the tv screen in his games and interviews. he hasn't come back home in ages and has probably forgotten all about you.
that does not, however, mean that you have forgotten about him. you've watched all of his matches, kept track of his records, and following him like his #1 fan. you are his #1 fan, you think. you keep a scrapbook with all of his achievements and photographs and every little symbol of him. you're perfectly content with loving him in secret, in the depths of your heart. the ideal man, the hypothetically perfect match, the epitome of perfection.
his sister does not know about your not so little crush. she's aware that you liked him once or twice in school days. but she's dismissed it because you haven't seen him in ages, how can one have a crush on someone they haven't met in years?
oh but you can. it's a wild pining, that blooms into warmth every once in a while, when you open your scrapbook each night, when you watch him play on the tv. and as each day passes, instead of your desire for him decreasing, it seems to be rapidly rising.
for, if fifteen year old mingyu had been taller than his entire class and a certified visual, twenty-two year old mingyu is an absolute god. it's positively worse for you because unlike others, who treat mingyu as a celebrity crush, you know him. you remember what his touch feels like, you remember what his scent is like, you remember what his gaze feels like. you remember how nervous he made you every time he talked to you. you remember how broad his back had been even as an adolescent. you remember how raspy his morning voice would be freshly after he had hit puberty. you remember how kind he used to be to you, because you were sister's best friend. so, unlike the others, your fantasies are based on real things and not just intangible imagination.
thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who retires from his basketball career after winning the gold medal at the olympics
he returns to his hometown, a cherished celebrity, because he wants to go back to his normal life. he's seen how some of his most respected seniors got dismissed as soon as they could be replaced by young talent, and mingyu wants to retire while he's still remembered as the golden star of korea. so he retires at the helm of his career, a hero.
and while he will miss the team, he won't be missing the pressure that came along with it. he'd rather become an engineer like he'd always wanted to and live a steady life ahead.
but when he returns, he sees you. after seven years. standing next to his sister at his home, where there are a ton of unfamiliar faces, all here to get selfies with the celebrity.
"who's that?" his sister barks out a laugh, "you don't recognise y/n? you idiot!" y/n? fuck him for not realising you've grown up too. fuck him for not remembering how pretty your eyes had been underneath the thick glasses you'd worn since childhood.
"how could i? i saw you last when i was, fifteen?" "yeah. and i was twelve." "nice to see you're still my sister's best friend." "nice to see you back home. congrats on the win, though." mingyu smiles. you smile too. fuck. you have dimples. where did the nerdy little girl with braids and freckles go?
thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who joins your college, majoring in aerospace engineering, which is coincidentally also your major
he sits next to you. it's your first day in class and mingyu's joining three years late but no one really minds. everyone is too busy fawning over him. look at his arms. look at his smile. look at his long hair.
"why are you sitting here? there's plenty of place for you to sit." "i'd rather sit next to a familiar face. why, do you want me gone?" "no but you're distracting." he leans in closer, leaving nearly no space between your seats. "distracting?" "yes. if you haven't noticed, there are like a dozen cameras pointed at you right now, and a dozen more eyes. not to mention that everyone wants to sit next to you, so you choosing to sit next to me ruins my chances of making friends with others." your glare is stern, and mingyu can't help the way his heart races when you look at him like that from above your glasses.
"i'm shier than you think. i'm here to escape the attention too." you sigh, "i don't remember you to be like this." i don't either, mingyu wants to say. from your height difference, he can see a bit of your cleavage and he almost drools. "people change, y/n-ah." you turn your face away as the professor comes in. "well, please focus in class then. otherwise i won't really like you sitting next to me, no matter what your excuse is."
thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who begins to rely on you totally in college
from sitting next to you in class, to sitting next to you and his sister during lunch, he's become a permanent feature in your periphery nowadays. and you're not sure you can take it any longer. because fuck your memory had served you wrong.
mingyu still smells like that, his voice is still like that, but he's grown at least three sizes bigger, and he just doesn't fit in the small class seats. his arm is nearly always on your desk, especially because he is left-handed. you always sit on one end of your seat to ensure mingyu and your legs aren't constantly touching. and it doesn't help that he laughs at even your smallest jokes because he always, always ends up slapping your thighs or arms during his laughter. frankly, every day in class is torture.
it doesn't help that mingyu now hangs out a lot more with you and his sister. so if you're doing homework in the library, mingyu tags along. if you're gossiping in her bedroom, somehow mingyu's also there, although he's engrossed on his phone. eventually, you stop becoming conscious of his presence, and stop censoring your conversations. it's not easy, but not impossible.
mingyu eventually invites himself over to your house for a study session before the exams. it's just the two of you, because your best friend is studying with her own group of classmates who have the same major as her. it's safe to say, it's a completely useless session for you because you get no studying done.
mingyu is literally in your personal space throughout the evening. he may be sitting opposite to you, but somehow his knees knock against yours under the table, his long hands stretch across the table to take the highlighter you're using from your hands, and he leans right into your face on the pretext of listening to what you're explaining. finally you can't take his attention on you any longer, and you take too many bathroom breaks to calm your racing heart.
thinking about best friend's older brother!mingyu who is a part of the varsity basketball team
he may be a freshman, but he's still the captain because his skills are undoubtedly the best among the lot. and while he has retired from the national team, he still loves the sport enough to be a part of the college team.
of course, he wins the inter-college basketball varsity cup, and the entire college is roaring and cheering for him. mingyu knows you're somewhere in the stadium- he'd spotted you right before his final match-winning shot, but now he can't see you at all.
using this as a means to escape the attention of cameras and other people, he runs through the corridors to find you sitting in a classroom, empty because everyone's at the stadium in the grounds to watch the match. "didn't you watch the match?" his voice makes you turn around, slightly jerking at the sudden voice. "of course i did. i knew you would win."
you look heavenly right now. not that you don't all the other times, but especially today because you're wearing the jersey he used to wear for the national team. he knows a hundred other girls were wearing it too in the stadium, but they were all copies. this is the original- he knows because his sister has told him that she's given it to you. and while it's loose on your body, there's crazy rush of arousal running through his veins right now as he sees his name written all over your back: number 9, mingyu.
"then why are you hiding here? i was taking out my sis for lunch afterwards. my treat. she'll be happy if you come along." i will be too, but he doesn't say it.
"no i- i have some revision to do. the viva's day after tomorrow, and i know i-" you stand up to face him, but your words fail you when he takes three steps closer towards you until his entire figure towers over you. "or are you just avoiding me?" he can see the effect he's having on you, the way your skin gets redder with blush and the way you keep averting his eyes. it makes the adrenaline rush quicker and his braveness increase. he's high from the victory and from playing his beloved sport after so long, so he's not averse to taking a few risks right now that he would not take any other day. so he leans in closer to you, until he can smell your perfume.
"why would i avoid you? and why are you here? shouldn't you be celebrating with your team?" "i wanted to see you." "don't lie to me for no reason, please." mingyu huffs, and pauses before replying. he takes in a deep breath, inhaling your delicious scent again, before he replies. "i'm not lying. why don't you believe me? is it so imposs-""not impossible. just, i don't know. irrational. doesn't make sense. look i know you may feel shy but i'd think you're used to this kind of attention. in fact, i always thought you rejoice in this attention."
you're right. you're so right, because any other day, and he knows he would be out there with his team, hollering and celebrating the win. but right now, he can't think of anyone but you. even on the field, from the moment he spotted you in the stands, he couldn't think of anything but how he wants to play for you. win for you. impress you. so that you have more reasons to like him. more notes to add in your-
"i saw your scrapbook." he sees the way your eyes dilate. "when?" "when i went to your house." "you fucking snoop-" "was that all a lie?" "min-" "i need to know, i need to know. i need to know because i can't think of anything else. i need to know because i don't want anything else from my life. i need to know."
"no!" you finally look up at him, cornered against the desk because he's caved you totally. "it's true. all of it. so what? will you laugh at me for it?" at that, mingyu's confidence falters for the first time. "laugh? why would i l- y/n, what are you saying?" "i know what you're doing. all this smooth talking, all your attention, you're just playing me along. and i won't be played along, mingyu."
"fuck, is that- is that what you've been thinking all along? fuck, no wonder you're avoiding me." he mutters under his breath, but he can see the confusion in your face too. "what do you mean, mingyu?" he doesn't want to answer, because he knows he will fuck up the words. so he just says, "stop me if you don't want this."
and he leans in and kisses you. it's a messy kiss from the first moment, because he's moving too fast and you're moving too slow in your shock. he pulls back after a second, his eyes glazed. "talk to me, y/n. tell me somethin-" "kiss me again, mingyu. kiss me like you mean it."
so he does. your tongues clashing and you moan when his hands wrap around your hips. spurred on by your sounds, he picks you up from the desk in one go. you squirm in his grip, wrapping your hands around his neck, clinging on to him as you float in air for a second. but you don't break the kiss. he holds on to you like dear life, as he turns around and sits on the desk himself, pulling you on to his lap. he carefully pulls away from the kiss for a breath and leans against the wall.
mingyu drags you closer to him, your legs folding around him and- "fuck, gyu- you- you're hard?" he hisses when you grind your body against him. "you're so hard from some kissing?" there's a teasing lilt in your voice, and for some reason, it's turning him on even more. but then his grip tightens on your hips as he pulls you to grind over him faster, while kissing you desperately.
your hands get lost in gyu's soft, long hair. mingyu's hands trail along your bare thighs under the skirt, and when he touches the hem of your panties, he feels from over your panties just how wet you've become, and he moans from the sticky feeling. "don't stop, gyu," you're whispering, and he doesn't. he sees you throw your head back, as you crave the friction and keep grinding against his crotch. the sweat from mingyu's body has trailed onto you, and he finds droplets of sweat running down your neck into your cleavage. he bucks his hips up into you at the sight, and you hold on to his shoulders to grind on him faster.
"can you come like this, baby? i can- i'm going to, if you keep moving your h-hips like-fuck!" and he does. kim mingyu, star of the generation, national basketball champion, icon of the college, comes right in his pants as you ride him and kiss him, chasing your own high. he doesn't stop you, although the humping is pushing him to overstimulation, but he keeps biting your lips and your neck the way you seem to like it, and soon you pull off his lips with a scream, your entire body trembles, and he can see the way your thighs quiver and then go still.
"that was so hot, baby." mingyu says after a minute of the two of you just looking at each other, coming down from your highs. "it was so risky- what were we thinking!" he laughs as he sees the shyness kick in after all this time, "don't go all innocent on me, love. now, do you want to take this home, or do you want me to keep kissing you here, my pants wet with my own cum like a teenager?"
and then, you giggle. the prettiest, fucking giggle ever in the world. for all your brisk attitude, you go soft over him at this moment and hug him, pulling him to your chest. but he's so wrong if he thinks you're talking soft, because he then hears you whispering in his ear, your breath hot against his earlobe, "i want to go home and ride you properly, gyu. will you let me?"
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flowerbetweenfangs · 4 months
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A Lesson In Discipline
Warnings: Breeding/Mating/Use of Pheromones
When you had brought the jars of pheromones, there was a bit of doubt lingering in the back of your mind. After all, plenty had taken advantage of the werewolf pack moving into your city. While the identities of the members were a secret, they were always skulking about on the full moon, picking their mate for the night.
Those who were chosen said it was the best sex of their life, raw and primal. Bowlegged walks and the scent that clung to them gave credence to their claim. And for the remaining cycle of the moon, they would have good fortune and preferential treatment as the packmember’s mate.
You dabbed a drop behind your ears. While your nose couldn’t pick anything up, you hadn’t expected it to. Hopefully, you hadn’t been duped with just plain water.
The next day while out, you caught a few people looking at you with hunger. Glazed over eyes, lips parted slightly as drool seeps out just enough to moisten lips, some stand up taller, muscles taut as they look ready to pounce on you, a slight rumble in chests and throats as they look you over, nostrils flaring as they drink in your scent.
Even when you washed behind your ears in the public bathroom at university, you could see the few who let their gazes linger just a little longer. The glimmer of hunger was there, but restraint had returned. It figured college students would be a prime pick for the pack.
During your latest lecture, a few stragglers seemed to paying more attention to you than the professor. Tight fists gripped pens and pencils hard enough to snap, fingers pounded on keyboards despite the owners not taking their eyes off you. The overwhelming scent of musk quickly filled the air as condensation formed on the large windows facing the courtyard.
When the bell rang, a sense of relief washed over you when the professor clapped his hands together.
“Class dismissed!” His normally monotone voice boomed through the classroom. The lookers slumped and slunk out. If they had tails, they would be between their legs.
“Except for you.” The professor pointed right at you.
As you walked closer, you noticed his nails seemed to be a little longer than usual. Or maybe they had always been that way? He leaned on his desk, but still towered over you.
“What were you thinking?” He hissed. His canines were slightly elongated, the rest of his teeth tapered. “Wearing something so potent?”
“Sir?” You asked. You swallowed hard, a quiver in your stomach.
“There are less disciplined wolves out in the city.” His nails scraped against the top of the desk, small shavings curling under the tips. “If you wander off campus, then you’ll be putting a target on your back.”
“I tried to scrub it off.” You confessed, not even trying to feign ignorance or innocence. “I thought that—”
“Less disciplined wolves wouldn’t give you a warning.” He growled, his muscles audibly straining as he gripped the desk tighter. Even as he spoke, there was a shift in his pants’ fabric as his erection grew. “Fortunately for you… I’m far more restrained.”
“Thank you for the warning.” You managed to stutter out, although you could feel the desire starting to fan to life inside you. He was an older man, but remarkably handsome, silver hair and a beard, with caramel colored eyes that looked almost amber. His dress clothes were tight against his body. Strong, and big. Both wide and tall.
Your face burned, and you hoped he didn’t see it. Actually, a small part hoped he did.
“You’re in no danger as long as you remain on campus.” He assured you, finally letting go of the desk and closing the distance between you. The scent of his cologne was strong. No, not cologne… Musk.
“We deal with unruly pack members diligently.”
The windows seemed to fog up more when he leaned down to your neck. Warm breath rolled over your neck as he panted, taking in your scent.
“That includes mates.”
(Part 02 is here!)
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4 A.M. - Sanji x Reader
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SUMMARY: Sanji's doing prep for the next day and you can't sleep which leads to a heartfelt and intimate encounter.
WORDCOUNT: ~ 1.5k
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It's around 4 A.M. when you get up from your hammock-turned-cot and decide to find something to do. Sleep clearly isn't coming. The past two hours of staring at the ceiling and swaying with the boat filled you with annoyance at your sudden case of insomnia.
Walking down the narrow corridor of the lower deck, you can hear the tiniest of creaks as the caravel floats along the waves. The night is so quiet, you can almost hear Luffy's snoring from his room. Usopp is mumbling in his sleep. Something about a pirate crew, carrots and onions. Nami and Zoro seem to be peaceful sleepers although with time you've learned that it's only a game of appearances - the thief and the hunter sleep with one eye open.
With each step, you can hear the repetitive sound more clearly. It's quick, separated by scraping.
The low light of the kitchen makes Sanji look almost inhuman, like the spirit of a chief cook who can't let go of the ship he had spent his entire life on. He's still in the same clothes, although the double-breasted jacket is nowhere in sight. The sleeves of his striped shirt are rolled halfway up his forearms. Where he's standing, the lonely lightbulb illuminates only half of his silhouette. The blond man toes the line of visibility as though he might disappear when you blink.
He looks almost divine.
"Can't sleep?" Sanji asks without looking away from the cutting board.
Only then, when he lets you know he's aware of your presence, do you realize you've been leaning against the doorframe and watching him for a good few minutes. Knowing Sanji, he won't think you odd but you're still a little flustered.
"Yeah. You?" you answer. In a few slow steps you're standing next to him, leaning your lower back against the kitchen counter.
For a moment, Sanji looks away from the cutting board and chopped carrots. His eyes stare into yours for a moment. It's nearly an inborn reflex that a wide smile curves his lips when he sees you.
"Not a fan of sleeping alone," he says and winks at you before going back to cutting vegetables.
The blush on your cheeks darkens a few shades (maybe he won't notice in the kitchen's twilight?). Truthfully, you have entertained that thought more than once and wondered whether similar fantasies kept him awake at night too. But you always dismissed them, thinking it wrong to have such intimate dreams regarding someone who might not even reciprocate your fondness. Sanji is, after all, a ladies' man - flowery words leave his mouth whenever a woman is around, no matter if she's taken or not interested.
Still, you believe there is something more between you and Sanji. Sometimes you think you've deluded yourself into believing this but it's moments like these, like the fond silence you're sharing now, that convince you it's not just your imagination:
Most of the time, the conversation between you and Sanji flows like a swift stream. But now, when the two of you are too tired to sleep, the silence is just as good. Even if you're not exchanging words and ambiguous comments, you feel understood. Like he knows you well enough to be able to guess what's on your mind. And you know what he might say in return, all the advice and wax poetic he revels in telling you. It's perfectly strange to converse with someone without saying a single word.
"Wanna see a trick?" you ask, breaking the silence.
Sanji is putting his chopped vegetables into large bowls. The movement of his hands is both careless and calculated as though he's letting his muscle memory take over the very last step of prepping ingredients for the next day's cooking. He's done this so many times, it's useless to think about the action too much.
"You trying to impress me, princess?" he asks in a low voice with a half-grin plastered on his face. The mischievous glint in his eye never quite seems to go away, especially when you're around.
"Nah," you answer, shaking your head, "just practising to show off in front of Zoro."
Sanji tries to pout but a genuine smile is tugging at the corners of his lips. "Cold."
Still, his eyes are glued to you. Though part of you is convinced it's not because you're about to show him a cheap fair trick. You take one of the teaspoons lying around and lift it in front of your face.
"You better not blink," you warn him.
He gives you a strange look.
"And lose precious few seconds of admiring you? Never."
Like most times, you're not sure how much of his sweet words you can believe.
With a quick move of wrists and fingers, you make the teaspoon disappear. After practising for a few days, the sleight of hand is almost flawless.
Sanji nods with appreciation.
“So you’re a magician, eh?” A low chuckle rumbles in his throat. “This explains how come you’ve bewitched me entirely.”
He leans on his arm against the edge of the counter. His head is slightly tilted as he's looking down at you. The lack of space between your bodies wouldn't raise an eyebrow in any other circumstances but now, when the night is dark and silent, the close proximity makes it hard to breathe. Your chests nervously rise and fall as you're breathing in each other's air.
“Truth be told," you begin in a slightly shaky voice, "I don’t know how to reverse the spell I put on you.”
But it seems as though Sanji has seen through your facade of humour and banter. The playful glint in his eyes mellows, becoming something more heartfelt. Your breath gets stuck in your throat and you must remind yourself to breathe.
“I’m quite content doting on you for the rest of my life."
You clench your jaw and look away for a moment. Flirty banter with Sanji is meant to remain just that - half-hearted comments with no strings attached. The problem is that, against your better judgement, you've been letting his wax poetic weigh down heavy on you, savouring each compliment and ambiguous remark like a soft river wearing down an unmovable boulder over time.
“Sanji," you whisper, "you need to stop saying all those nice things.”
“Why?” His voice is just as breathy and quiet.
“Because I’m starting to believe you.”
Something about his expression changes. You can't quite put a finger on it but Sanji's face looks softer, almost somber. His shoulders become tense as he wipes his hands on the dishrag hanging over his shoulder and tosses it on the countertop.
"Would that be so terrible, love?" Sanji drones his words. Part of you is convinced that he already knows the answer. "To believe that my every thought belongs to you?" His eyelids flutter as his gaze falls to your lips. "That I would tear out my own heart and bring it to you in my teeth if you asked for it?"
The short silence feels unbearable. You can hear your own heart thundering in your chest, beating at your ribcage to finally be freed. To let it make the decision this time.
“Alright, you’ve done it," you whisper more to yourself than to him.
You can hear Sanji sharply inhaling when you grab the collar of his elegant shirt and pull him into a feverish kiss. He tastes like cigarettes and spearmint chewing gum. His shirt is imbued with the smell of cooking oil. All of those strong aromas you've learned to associate with comfort and security.
His lips move against yours with passion and desperation known only to those who made friends with longing. Sanji places his hands around your waist, pulling you even closer to his body. If he could pull you just a little more, merge the two of you into one union, he wouldn't have to go a second without you.
Then, Sanji pulls just an inch away. His hot, heavy breath brushes against your cheeks. Swollen, red lips look even more enticing than they did before.
"Are you really going to woo Zoro with a magic trick?" he asks, somewhat tense.
Your laughter brightens up the dead of night. Sanji feels like his chest is about to burst open with flowers blooming inside his ribcage where his heart should be. And it would have been if he hadn't given it to you the moment you met.
"Just shut up."
Shaking your head, you kiss him again. Still holding you close, Sanji pushes you against the kitchen counter. One of his hands leaves your waist only to rest against the side of your head to deepen the kiss.
It's around 4 A.M. when you wonder whether being in love is like having a song stuck in your head. Or like an echo that forever repeats a single name.
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agroteraa · 8 months
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Artemis
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Oliver Quick x f!Reader
My fic masterlist
Part 2.
Part 1: Actaeon
Part 3.1: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.1)
Part 3.2: The Wrath of the Stag (ch.2)
Warnings: smut, oral, handjob, penetration sex.
Word Count: 5,5K
After the events of the last night, you didn't join in watching TV with the Cattons and Oliver. No, you weren't tired, but you were overwhelmed with emotions and all that had happened. Besides, you couldn't imagine how you could just go and watch telly with Oliver after that. It would be too embarrassing to pretend that nothing had happened, and you didn't think he'd be able to keep his face either.
So, you just went to your bed, tossing and turning for most of the night, thinking about what scenes in the bathroom. It felt like Oliver's hands were still ghostly wandering all over your body...
You came to breakfast very sleepy and visibly a little lost. It was a beautiful and sunny morning, and all Saltburn habitants were sitting at a table outside and eating various treats.
"Good morning, everyone!" you said, not being able to hold back a yawn.
"Good morning, sweetheart!" Elspeth replied, looking at you worriedly, "Is everything alright?"
Felix echoed his mother's look, slightly raising his eyebrows in concern. The others were busy with their own conversations, and only Oliver silently cast a brief glance at you, returning to eating his full English breakfast.
"Yes, it's okay, I'm just... I couldn't fall sleep for a while."
"Okay," Elspeth nodded, satisfied with your rather innocuous answer.
When you took a seat at the table opposite Oliver, you couldn't look into his eyes, your stomach was twisting, not from the hunger, but from the excitement. You didn't feel like eating at all. Duncan brought you eggs cooked in your favorite way, you nodded gratefully to him, but you were in no hurry to eat. Oliver noticed it.
"Is something wrong?" he asked innocently, looking up at you.
"Um, I'm just... I don't know, I guess I'm just not hungry right now."
"Hmm. Well, but I am. I've been hungry since last night. Very much," he chuckled, returning to his meal with appetite.
You gulped. It seems that he didn't mean breakfast at all now?
That had how your morning went, and then you went about your own business. Oliver, Felix, Farleigh and Venetia went to play tennis. You dismissed the game, and even more so there were exactly four of them. Instead, you went for a walk in gardens of Saltburn, read a book in a shady gazebo and muse upon the evening ahead. So, the evening had finally come, forcing the hot sun to forget about itself until the next day.
You thought and decided to politely decline the dinner. To be honest, you were feeling sick with excitement, and you definitely wouldn't be able to eat anything at dinner, especially if Oliver would be looking at you. It was better to seem a little weird now than to get a bunch of unwanted questions later.
Instead, you decided to stay in your room, citing a slight indisposition. You really had it, though, for a different reason. You lied down on the bed and began to remember the last night. His touch, his breathing, his piercing blue eyes that turned dark with desire at that moment... a desire for you.
It was hard to even believe it, but it seemed that was it. Your breathing got heavy when you started running your fingers over your lips, feeling your hot breath on your fingers, because you imagined that it were Oliver's fingers...
... ohh. You definitely needed to do something about it tonight.
* * *
"Where have everyone gone? I've been looking for y’all for half an hour," you said, finding Oliver in the library, who was comfortably settled in an armchair and reading a book.
"They're playing Uno. It seems that Felix and Farleigh will quarrel even more than yesterday over the remote control, and Venetia is also with them."
"Why aren't you with them too?"
"I'm not a fan of these kinds of games," Oliver explained with an emphasis on "these" not even looking up from his book.
"Mm, yes, about Venetia. Although she is not giving concerts in the bathroom tonight, but now there is only cold water running, apparently there is also some kind of heating malfunction, and the second bathroom still has not yet been repaired..."
At this point, Oliver looked up at you, his eyes narrowed slightly.
"Oh, really?"
"Mhm..." you confirmed, biting your lip.
He looked at you searchingly, tilting his head slightly to the side. Then, with a rising smile, he replied to you, "Of course. Enjoy yourself," and returned to reading his book. That was it, there was no further reaction or words from Oliver.
"F-fine." That was it? For some reason, you hoped that he would somehow hint that he would also join you, or at least react livelier to your words. But you had no choice but to go back to your room, get a bathrobe and go to that bathroom. You didn't bring a towel. Okay, Oliver, if you wanted to play ignore, we could arrange that.
Going into the bathroom of Oliver and Felix, you began to fill the tub. The room greeted you again with a pleasant dim lighting and the hum of water flowing down. His incomprehensible indifference throughout the day had upset you and even slightly angered you. Therefore, this time you had already put things on Felix's half on purpose and took his towels, no matter what Oliver had asked you to do.
After a while, you sank into the pleasantly hot water and began to wait. More precisely, at first you were really relaxing, but with every passing minute you were rather waiting for Oliver more than enjoying the process. But he did not come.
"Damn," you swore inwardly, and just as you were starting to think about getting out of the bath and getting ready, Oliver walked into the room.
"Hello!-" you started.
"Hi," he replied shortly and walked into his room, hardly looking at you. What?
You changed your mind about getting out of the bathtub right now and decided to sit in it until something would happen. About 5 minutes later Oliver came out, dressed in a domestic white tank top and stiped blue boxers. Your stomach turned over from this intimacy of his outfit. He went to his bathroom table, turned the water on and, as if nothing had happened, began to brush his teeth. He didn't start a conversation with you.
"So, uh, how was your day?" you began hesitantly, turning your head towards him.
"We played tennis, then took a dip in the pool, and then I enjoyed reading in the evening. Well, you’ve seen it."
"Yeah, that’s great..."
"And how was yours?"
"Not like... how I thought it would pass. I think I feel weird..."
"It must be because you didn't sleep well today. Go to bed early, yeah?"
"Huh? Yeah, I guess..."
You were a little lost. You looked at Oliver from behind, but he didn't turn to you. Of course, he was looking at you in the mirror again. He was a little on edge right now. This evening was not going quite the way he had imagined, but it was even intriguing.
The thing was that he had decided not to do anything with the second bathroom today. He overheard a conversation that the first bathroom had not been repaired again today, as the workers had confused the date and would arrive only tomorrow. So, it was even interesting for him to put it in the hands of fate. Would Venetia take over the only left bathroom again? Or would you just come in and innocently, hiding your gaze, ask Felix again or even Oliver himself if you could use their the bathroom again. Or maybe you would silently, struggling with your shame and desire, come to their bathroom and use it, hoping that something similar to the previous time would happen? Oh, he would definitely make your desires, which you were still afraid to admit to yourself, come true.
But no. You came to him and lied to him about the second bathroom, looking straight into his eyes.
"So, Y/N, do you want to remain innocent, but at the same time you know how to lie in your favor? It's interesting. You're beautiful and you did take a sacred bath, and now you really think you can be Artemis in every sense? No, no, no. No. Dear, there can only be one hunter here, and that's me," Oliver thought to himself, "And if you want to play on my field, well, I'll show you how it’s done."
With these thoughts, Oliver bit his lip contentedly, continuing to read the book while you left the library, but his thoughts drifted further and further away from the subject of reading.
At first, he wanted to nonchalantly go into the bathroom and, while he was brushing his teeth, catch your glances with his skin, hear your rapid breathing and catch the sounds of your feet fidgeting in the water. Then, having played enough with this longing, he would help you get out of the bathroom, wipe your beautiful naked hot body with his towel, hold your hands and take you to his room, where he would give you all the pleasure you would wish for. And this time he would have taken everything he wanted from you, enjoying you at its fullest.
But no.
You left your stuff on Felix's side. You took his towels. He told you not to do that.
His teeth almost bit his toothbrush in half when he saw it through the mirror. Was it an act of defiance, a way to attract extra attention, or a way to cause jealousy? Y/N, don't be a fool. But he hated to admit it, that some kind of jealousy had appeared in him anyway, and he was mad about it. No, don't you even dare to think that way. You were his, you would be only his.
The mood for a slow and sensual night has evaporated completely. Right now, Oliver could only bend you over and fuck you properly. Yes, that would be sweet too. But still, he didn't want to ruin everything and start your relationship like this. He'd better go to bed now, and tomorrow he’d know better.
"So, I'm going to bed, too. Good night, Y/N," Oliver said calmly, clutching the toothbrush in his hands with all his might, making it almost break it a second time.
You were left alone in the bathroom. What had happened? Were you too persistent, and Oliver was upset by your persistence? Or was he really that angry about your stuff left on Felix's table? It also occurred to you that he somehow intuitively felt and was upset about your lies, but of course he couldn't know that. But you still felt somehow guilty.
After getting out of the bathtub and draining the water, you dried yourself with a towel and, putting on your bathrobe, leaned your hands on the sink on Felix's side. You looked in the mirror and thought what should you do. No, you couldn't just walk away, there was too much left unsaid.
*Knock-knock*
"Oliver!"
The door opened a crack, in front of you there was Quick looking out of the darkness with his bright blue eyes. He took off his tank top and wore boxers only. You involuntarily looked at his beautiful torso, on which was nothing on but one chain, glittering on the neck. You gulped.
"Yes?" he asked in a low, hoarse voice.
"Can we talk?" this time it was you who walked into his room without waiting for an invitation or even more so a refusal.
You stepped into his dark, moonlit room. He stood a few inches away and silently looked you up and down. You continued, "You've been acting kind of weird all day, I'm sorry if this is me who..."
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience right now.
He silently pulled you to him, kissing you. You were very surprised, but you gave yourself up to this kiss with joy. Oliver kissed you passionately and long, then he took your hand and pulled you towards his bed. He carefully loosened the belt of your robe, admiring you from head to toe. Then he gently but abruptly threw you onto the bed and fell on top of you, leaning on his elbows and knees. Quick started kissing your neck, leaving hot prints of his lips on it, then he kissed your collarbone, then the place between your breasts. You started hugging him harder. Oliver continued his way down, kissing the place under your breasts and then slid his tongue over your stomach all the way to the bottom. You exhaled loudly, moving one hand to his soft hair on his head and squeezing it slightly.
He breathed out contentedly, and you could feel his smile on your skin. Then he cast a brief lustful glance at you, and went down even lower, to the most desired place. He kissed your inner thigh and then placed his lips on your folds. You felt his hot breath for a few seconds, as if he was enjoying this moment and didn't believe in it himself. Those few seconds seemed like an eternity to you, until he ran his tongue over your folds. You were already wet, so wet.
The tip of his tongue began to slowly glide up and down into the sensitive flesh all across your pussy, you left a sharp gasp. It was almost an electric feeling. Then he buried his mouth into you and started to run circles inside you with his wet and hot tongue. You began to moan softly while twitching your legs a little.
His hands were gripping your thighs, pulling your body even closer to his mouth. You buried both of your hands into his dark hair, letting a deep moan. Oliver was massaging your flesh from the inside, he was eating you out, almost humming to himself. Then he returned to caress your sensitive clit. You arched your back and you let out whine, burying hands deeper into his soft locks, almost tugging them. He let out satisfied pant and you looked down at him.
Gosh, he looked absolutely breathtaking, giving you a glare back with his piercing blue eyes on a half-seen face between your legs. And all this was happening in his moonlit room, like in some dark fairytale. It gave you a jolt of pleasure to the point you almost came.
He accelerated his pace and pressure until you tilted back your head and let out a long moan. You began to buck your hips but his hands were holding you firmly it almost hurt. His tongue got sloppy and messy as he feverishly caressed you. You couldn’t hold it back anymore.
“Oliver!..” you cried out his name, clenching his head with your legs, his strong hands released the grip.
He raised his head with lips and chin glistening in the dark, panting and smiling. He was looking at your bliss, the result of his work, with indescribable delight. Oliver looked absolutely stunning that way, being covered in your bliss that he gave to you. You had almost come for the second time at that view.
"I'm very glad that you liked it. And now," he leaned up to kiss you briefly on the lips, "It's time to go to bed. Sweet dreams, Y/N, tomorrow will definitely be a better day."
You were surprised that he wanted to end it, but you were barely thinking and were still beside yourself with bliss, so, as if in a fog, you pulled on your bathrobe, nodded to Oliver and left on fast but wobbly legs. It was like you were bewitched and you didn't do it all yourself, but at someone's behest.
Oliver smiled contentedly, falling back onto the bed.
"Sorry" was enough for his pride and patience, but not to the point where he could completely control himself and not break into a rage that would just tear you apart if he met his desires utterly.
Thus, tonight it would be his hand again, but this was definitely for the last time. Tomorrow he would be counting on your hands and not only on them.
* * *
Tomorrow was definitely a better day. Your appetite had returned, Oliver secretly was moving to you plates with pastries and fruits. You smiled and happily ate everything he offered.
But what happened in the last few nights seemed to remain only there. During the day, there was some kind of different, still a little tense atmosphere. Except that the ambiguity was replaced by a more agitated expectation and intrigue. It was still difficult for both of you to do small talks when the pictures of previous nights were so vivid in your heads.
Tonight was going to be a busy night, because James and Elspeth's friends, numerous Henrys and their wives, came to Saltburn. You also knew many of them, so you spent the whole evening in lively conversations with the exchange of news over the past year, endlessly promising to send greetings to your parents. Oliver seemed to be a little lost, especially at dinner, but you were seated quite far from each other, so even if you decided to talk to him, you couldn't do it. But you nodded at him from the other end of the table, lighting up the whole evening with your smile. He felt much less alone from that moment onwards.
The dinner was sumptuous, and numerous flowers and candles rested on the dark mirrored table, the candlelight danced beautifully on the faces of wining and dining guests. You stole a glance at Oliver - God, how handsome he was in this evening tuxedo, did he know that? You had a growing desire to get alone with him, but you had absolutely no idea how you could do it unnoticeably, and generally... take the initiative. You wouldn’t go to his bathroom for the third time, would you?
The evening was followed by a karaoke night led by DJ Farleigh. Everyone was having fun, singing along and clapping each other, it didn't matter if someone sang noticeably badly or really very well. Although “uncle” Henry's performance to the song “Low" was already too much, especially at the moment when you almost got smashed by his thrown jacket.
"Good Lord, give me strength," you thought, and then changed your prayer, turning your head to the side at Henry's wife, who eventually got his jacket right in her face, "Although no, please better give this woman strength."
Felix had been gallantly pouring you wine half the evening, asking how your mood was, and made funny comments about the guests. Then Venetia came, you also had a drink with her and a lively talk, and then she and her brother went to stand in a corner while smoking cigarettes, hilariously dancing to karaoke songs. Elspeth walked and chatted charmingly with the guests, and James sometimes eagerly but out of pace clapped to the rhythm of modern dance floor hits with often dubious lyrics.
Oliver was sitting on the opposite couch almost all this time, drinking some kind of tropical long. You didn't talk to him much during karaoke, but the conversation with his eyes was more than enough. His expressive orbs alternated between looking at you and following your rolling gaze as you watched another Henry who was making another drunken joke. And then his eyes started to burn a hole in you more and more, but he still remained silent and did not approach. Okay. In a different state, you may had started overthinking it or getting upset again, but not now. Now you were drunk enough to perform some karaoke hit and tell him everything with it. Well, telling something, at least.
"Farleigh!" you shouted, pointing at him.
"Yes!" he poked his finger at you in response, holding the microphone.
"Toxic" by Britney Spears!" you said, calling out a few "o-o-o-ohs" from the audience.
"Great!" the DJ of the evening grinned, putting the right song and giving the microphone to you.
The familiar sounds of a sampled violin came in, and then your voice followed:
Baby, can't you see I'm calling?
A guy like you should wear a warning
It's dangerous, I'm falling
There's no escape, I can't wait
I need a hit, baby, give me it
You're dangerous, I'm loving it
You sang, turning to Oliver and looking into his eyes. He sucked his cocktail out of a straw and then put it on the floor without breaking eye contact with you.
Too high, can't come down
Losing my head, spinning 'round and 'round
Do you feel me now?
He was sitting on the couch in his smart black tux, leaning back slightly and spreading his legs wide. Oliver was listening to you so attentively, as if this was not a Britney song, but some kind of revelation addressed only for him to comprehend.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
And I love what you do
Don't you know that you're toxic?
He grinned at you. You started swinging your hips slightly while you were singing. Oliver licked his lips lightly.
It's getting late to give you up
I took a sip from my devil's cup
Slowly, it's taking over me
What a confession. Or was it a call?
You kept singing while everyone else supported you and sang along too. Farleigh danced to the beat of the music, and Felix and Venetia just had a separate party in the corner of the room, as if they were really at a Britney concert, and not karaoke party, where their friend finally decided to sing, being a little drunk. Elspeth and James, somehow in an old-fashioned, but a very sweet way danced sitting on the couch. All this support from the Cattons was especially pleasant and inspired me to sing the song even more boldly!
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now (I think I'm ready now)
Intoxicate me now with your loving now
I think I'm ready now
Yes, it was definitely a call. Oliver shifted on the couch, outwardly remaining calm, but deep inside he just had a storm of emotions and desires.
Artemis was luring her Actaeon again.
The living room burst with applause and cheering. It was not that you sang better than the original, but still, this song had already become an everyone’s favourite hit, which could not be disliked in any case. And you sang charismatically, not to mention your body movements. You scored 100 points! And to Oliver it was all 200.
You chatted for a while with Felix and Venetia and one of the Henrys, who jumped up to you, drank more wine after such brave karaoke performance, and then sneaked out of the room, realizing that you urgently need to use the restroom. Your head was a little dizzy, but you got to that very bathroom of yours which actually worked fine. Having done all the necessary things, you began to wash your face and stood for a long time at the sink with the faucet open, gradually coming to your senses. Ugh, you shouldn’t drink like that, otherwise it won't be clear if you can remember the rest of the evening. And you really wanted the most interesting things to be just ahead.
"Oliver!"
He was standing against the wall opposite the bathroom exit.
"How did you know that you... that I... that I would go here and not, say, to your bathroom again?"
"Very simply, Y/N. You're drunk right now, and thus, you will most likely reach the place that you are most familiar with. Like on an autopilot. I decided that you use your bathroom more often than mine."
You thought about it. Indeed, everything was so simple when he explained it. He must be much more sober.
It was a good thing you left before Farleigh decided to make Oliver sing karaoke. It was unexpected and humiliating, very humiliating, but he turned the situation in his favor by handing the microphone back to Farleigh at the most ambiguous moment of the song. Soon it would be Farleigh paying his own "Rent". Fortunately, no one read this subtext except the two of them. Oliver wasn't worried much about that right now, he had more important things to do tonight, so he went looking for you, fortunately, it wasn't difficult at all.
"So, you sing," he stated, pulling away from the wall and leisurely approached you.
"Not really, more like when I have a little drink, huh..."
"Are you feeling better now, Y/N?"
"Yes, much better, thank you," you said, still musing, "And also I sing when there is a good reason for it"
Oliver came close to you, and leaning into your ear, asked, "Am I a good enough reason?"
You looked into his eyes, "What do you think..." and reached out to kiss him. The taste of your wine mixed with the taste of his sweet strong cocktails. "It seems he drank more than I thought after all, how is he holding up so well?" you wondered, but soon you lost the thread of thought when his tongue, even more saturated with alcohol, penetrated your mouth.
With a taste of your lips, I'm on a ride
You're toxic, I'm slipping under
With a taste of a poison paradise
I'm addicted to you
Don't you know that you're toxic?
Those lines from the song started spinning in your head again while your tongues were spinning in their own dance. You started to lose the feeling of the ground under your feet, but Oliver held you tight. But you still got to lean more on his sturdy body under that beautiful black and white suit.
Then, barely interrupting your kisses, you moved into your bedroom. It was lit by the moonlight, just like Oliver's bedroom last night. He began to take off your dress, gently kissing your shoulder. Then, you helped him undo your bra and stepped out of the shoes. At this time, he was taking off his tux without taking his eyes off you. He looked at you ecstatically from head to toe.
"Beautiful, so beautiful. Did I tell you that already?"
You nodded, smiling.
"I'll say it again. You're so fuckin’ beautiful," Oliver said with his deep sexy accent.
At these words, you became completely aroused and let out an inaudible moan, as he threw you on the bed, just like yesterday. After kissing you on the lips, he immediately went down on you, caressing your most sensitive part with his tongue and squeezing your hips harder than before. You shifted on the bed, entangling with his soft dark locks, and began to moan softly.
Oliver himself was also damn attractive, to say the least. His strong, slender stripped body covered yours, and only the chain was dangling on his neck. For some reason, this detail turned you on especially hard. Finally, you saw him completely naked, not just a couple of times in the tall grass, but right in your bedroom, when he was pressing you to the bed, towering over you. What a view.
His tongue was flicking over your clit, Oliver was almost moaning into your cunt as he eats you. You squeezed his head between your legs so hard, but he wouldn’t pull back. He was groaning and licking you relentlessly.
You were so close to orgasm, but he stopped and reached for your face, greedily kissing your lips with his shiny lips, this time for a long enough time so that you could taste your own arousal. It drove you crazy.
"Now you know just a little bit how delicious you are, Y/N," Oliver almost breathed those words right into your mouth.
He pulled himself up to you, and you felt his hard cock pressing against you. You put your hand on it, which made Oliver exhale sharply. Resting on his hands, he lifted up a little while you caressed it with your hand. He looked lasciviously at you, as your hand was moving up and down, stroking his dick. Then he hugged you and rolled over on the bed with you, and you were on top now. You sank lower, carefully wrapping your lips around his cock. He tilted his head back, mouth half open. The feel of your soft lips and warm tongue almost drove Oliver crazy. He put one hand in your hair, gently running it through.
"Yes, dear Y/N, that's it..."
"My sweet Y/N..."
Then you, without stopping your actions, looked him straight in the eyes. It was too much, and Oliver groaned and gently released you, turning you back down under him. His cock was harder than the steel of any sword that was in this manor.
"Do you know what is the best thing about a karaoke night, besides your amazing number?" asked Oliver and gave the answer himself, "It's that you can scream and moan all over the house, as loudly as you want. Or whatever I want it to be."
Those words flooded you with moisture, and at that moment Oliver entered you.
He gave you a moment to adjust to his size, his cock completely filling you up as he was buried deep inside of you. He exhaled, full of admiration and lust.
"Gods, Y/N, you’re so tight," he said breathlessly, kissing you. You started moaning into his mouth as he began to move. The pace of his hips was leisurely at the start, gently rolling into yours, your eyes were connected to each other. His strong arms caged your twitching body under him. It all felt so good you were afraid that you might just woke up from some kind of dream or fantasy that you had, thinking of Oliver and falling asleep.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you as he increased his pace. Soon, the speed of his pounding becoming relentless as his panting and your own moans. You wrapped your legs around his body, nails digging into his back as you gave him the perfect angle to go even deeper into you.
“Fuck, girl, moan for me, yeah. Let the whole house know who is giving it to you, that pleasure,” Oliver’s hot whisper almost burned your skin.
You let out the loudest groan as he began slamming into you, driving to the edge of existence. The entire floor was really filled with your screams of pleasure, echoing in the dark. His hips slap against yours loudly, shaking the old bed. He clenched his teeth, watching the way your doe eyes look up at him, eyes were full of sensuality and desire. Oh, how beautiful and docile you were, he could not believe himself it was all happening at least.
You clenched around him and soon you arched your back, his name fell from your lips. He followed later soon, burying his head into the crook of your neck as he was doing last movements with his hips.
You went soft and limp under him as he panted with his hoarse voice in your ear. Oliver exhaled contentedly, triumphantly smirking.
You changed your position by lying down next to each other. For a while, you both just lay silently in bed, recovering your breath and feeling the spreading bliss to every cell of your bodies. Quick began to slowly and gently stroke and caress your body, leaving a weightless touch on your skin. He gently brushed two knuckles of his finger against your soft cheek.
"Oliver," you whispered into the darkness.
"Yes, Y/N?" he said, playing with your hair.
"Tell me, you've liked me since Oxford, haven't you? At first, I didn't even realise it, but in recent days I've been thinking so much about our acquaintance and how you looked at me then… So I thought it might be true..."
Oliver chuckled softly.
"Yes, my clever Y/N, you're absolutely right. I lost my head about you nearly as soon as I saw you. Seems you can't hide the truth from you."
You smiled, snuggling closer to him, "It's so good that you also got to Saltburn this summer," you mused, "Maybe, it is some kind of fate."
Oliver smiled at your words, gently tucking a lock behind your ear.
"Yes, I guess, it is."
The mixture of satisfaction, happiness and alcohol acted on you like a magic potion, and soon you peacefully fell asleep on his shoulder. Oliver was very glad that it was your room and you didn't have to be disturbed in any way. Saltburn had his own eyes and ears, it was not worth creating unnecessary rumors now. He wasn't in a position here to be able to afford it, at least, not now.
He kissed you gently on the temple and carefully left your bed, dressing up in his tuxedo and returning to the living room.
The fun continued. The hunt was a success.
611 notes · View notes
pnutbutter-n-j-elyy · 3 months
Text
Never Say Never| Pt1
Warnings: Cursing
Pt2 Pt3 Pt4
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
You and Hyunjin had always been a passionate couple, with emotions running high in both good and bad times. It was something that you had yearned for- being in a relationship as passionate as a gasoline fueled flame; but in time you had realized what you had was both a blessing and a curse.
The day had started out like any other, but a simmering tension had been building up for weeks, ready to boil over.
Simple things had been irritating you both, yet you were too afraid to communicate those things in fear of causing issues.
You had just returned home from running some errands when you noticed the look on Hyunjin's face as he stared intently at something on the screen of his phone.
"Hey, I'm back," you called out, placing your bag on the kitchen counter. You had left the dorms earlier to run out and pick up a few things you intended to use to cook the guys dinner, running to a few other places as well throughout the late morning until early evening.
Hyunjin didn't respond right away, his side turned to you as he scrolled through his phone. You sensed something was off but decided to ignore it for now, too anxious of a person to start confrontations.
"How was your day?" you asked, trying to keep the mood light.
He turned around, a frown creasing his forehead. "Did you see this?" he asked, showing you an article from Dispatch.
You glanced at the screen and sighed. "Yeah, I saw it. They're always making up rumors and releasing things. You know that." The headline read:
STRAY KIDS HYUNJIN DATING FOREIGN NON-IDOL?
Hyunjin's frustration was palpable. "It's not just rumors this time, Y/N. They have photos of us together, and they're saying you're a distraction to my career." He rushed a hand through his hair. "And this isn't the first time its happened. Remember when you took my Instagram pictures but forget to edit your reflection out of the mirror? Thankfully it was just your shoulder, but you've put us in multiple situations because of stupid mistakes you make. Like the photo in the article-" He shows his phone to you. "Everyone knew I was doing an isolated photoshoot. None of the other members were there and I said you could come but to be careful when leaving so you aren't seen at the shooting scene. But rather you aren't careful and they have a picture of you in my varsity jacket."
You sigh in frustration. "Hyunjin, they don't even know what my face looks like! I always wear a hat and glasses and a mask and clothes that cover me up. I don't see the big deal in people speculating you being in a relationship! Just ignore it and it'll die down." You turn to go put some of the groceries away but Hyunjin spoke.
"I wasn't finished Y/N. You seem to think its that easy. I'm supposed to look desirable - attainable Y/N. I have to live the life of a bachelor even if it isn't the case."
You turn at the sound of his voice. You don't know if it was the flippant tone he used while saying something so dismissive or if it was because of how fed up you were of hiding but you scoffed.
You felt a mix of anger and hurt. "So, what? Am I not supposed to be around you because you need to feed into people's delusions? Are you expecting me to sit at home and pretend like we're nothing more than just two people who have mutual feelings but can't act on them because of fanservice? All because of a tabloid article?"
He ran a hand through his hair again, clearly agitated. "It's not that simple. My career is on the line here. The fans, the company—they all have expectations."
Your temper flared. "And what about my expectations, Hyunjin? Does that not matter?"
Hyunjin's eyes flashed with frustration. "Of course it matters, but we have to be realistic. You- this could ruin everything I've worked for."
You laughed humorlessly at Hyunjin's slip up. "So...me loving you is ruining your career?" You licked your lips and then puckered them in thought. "Makes sense. considering I was the one who said yes to your advances." Your voice has a biting sarcasm to it.
"Y/N don't start. You knew what you were getting into- I warned you about dating an idol."
You threw your hands up in exasperation. "This wouldn't even be an issue if you just disclosed our relationship! How many times have we had to sneak around and hide like we're doing something wrong? And you didn't warn me about this. Matter of fact you warned me about how people would act knowing you were in a relationship. They don't know shit Hyunjin, because you have yet to tell anyone other than the members about us. And they wouldn't have found out so quickly if it wasn't for Jisung being nosy and following you."
He scoffed. "Its common sense. You've lived here long enough to know not all relationships are disclosed right away. "
"You gave me the impression that you were going to inform people! It's been a year, Hyunjin! A fucking year."
"You know it's not that simple. Disclosing our relationship could have serious repercussions. I could lose everything I've worked for."
Your voice rose in frustration. "And what about me? Do you know how it feels to be kept a secret? To constantly worry about getting caught, about being labeled as a distraction or worse? Getting doxxed? At least if you told people they could be warned of legal reprecussions! Or maybe they would feel inclined to love someone their idol loves just out of decency. Not labeling us as a couple to the public is making things worse. Its making it hard for me-"
Hyunjin took a step closer, his frustration evident. "Do you think this is easy for me? I have to think about my career, my future. It's not just about us!" His voice was sharp and there was a hint of something underlying you weren't sure you had ever heard before.
You felt tears of anger and hurt welling up. "So, what? Am I just supposed to sit here and accept that I'll always come second to your career?"
He shook his head, his voice rising. "That's not what I'm saying. But you have to understand, this is my life. This is what I've worked so hard for. I can't just throw it all away."
"But you don't realize doing all of that is just slowly throwing me away?"
The argument escalated quickly, with both of you hurling accusations and past grievances at each other. Each word was a dagger, cutting deeper and deeper. And if emotions were blood you would have been dead by now.
"You never appreciate what I sacrifice for us," you shouted, tears streaming down your face. Your throat hurt from the past few minutes of the screaming match you and Hyunjin had been in. "I'm constantly worrying, constantly hiding! And for what?!"
Hyunjin's voice was equally loud, the frustration palpable. "And you think I don't make sacrifices?! Playing damage control all the fucking time! I'm getting tired!"
The room felt suffocating, the air thick with unspoken hurts and unresolved issues. The argument had spiraled out of control, touching every sore spot in your relationship.
"You know what, Hyunjin?" you said, your voice trembling with emotion. "Maybe we need some time apart."
His face fell, shock replacing the anger. "Are you serious?"
"Yes," you replied, feeling a strange mix of relief and heartbreak. "I can't do this anymore. I don't want to fight with you-"
Hyunjin's expression hardened. "I should have never asked you out in the first place. I guess I'm finally free from that mistake."
That sentence hung in the air, a cruel echo of his frustration and regret. The final blow to an already fragile situation.
You had intended for this to spark a moment of calm, so you could both take sometime to gather your thoughts and talk things out civilly rather than pierce each other.
You hadn't expected it go anything farther than that. Not a breakup.
You felt your heart shatter, and without another word, you turned and left the apartment. Tears streamed down your face as you walked away, leaving behind the life you had built together.
The immediate aftermath was a blur. You found yourself at your best friend's place, seeking solace and trying to make sense of what had just happened. The pain was overwhelming, and every memory of Hyunjin felt like a knife to your heart. Your friend welcomed you with open arms, offering a shoulder to cry on and a place to stay, since they doubted that you'd want to be where Hyunjin knew you'd be.
They made you a cup of tea and sat with you on the couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"
You shook your head, the words stuck in your throat. "Not right now."
Your best friend nodded understandingly. "Take your time. I'm here for you. Whether you want to cry or be angry. Punch things, break things. Whatever makes you feel better. But for right now I'm gonna take this." They gently took your phone from your hands, entering your password and blocking the sultry eyed boy; already sensing that this turn of events wasn't a kind one.
Meanwhile, Hyunjin was left alone in dorms, staring at the space where you had stood before. Regret and anger battled within him, and he found himself replaying the argument over and over in his mind. He sat on the couch, head in his hands, wondering how things had gone so wrong. The words he had said echoed in his mind, each repetition amplifying his regret. "I should have never asked you out."
He knew he didn't mean it, but the damage was done. The love of his life had walked out the door, and he was left to face the consequences of his words.
He sat there ruminating on it, feeling his anger slowly melt away and turn into immense guilt and then a deep sadness that spurred an onslaught of tears when he heard the members arrive and Jeongin's voice ring out asking what you had made them for dinner.
Days turned into weeks and the void you left in his life grew more apparent with each passing day. He missed your laugh, your presence, the way you made everything feel better. But he also knew that the words he had said couldn't be taken back.
You, too, were struggling. The pain of the breakup was a constant companion, and you found it hard to focus on anything else. Your friends tried to comfort you, but nothing seemed to fill the emptiness you felt inside.
One evening, as you sat in your best friend's living room, staring at the boxes of the last few belongings you had yet to unpack in your new shared home. You couldn't help but think back to all the good times you and Hyunjin had shared. The way he used to make you breakfast in bed when you'd spend the night at the dorms, the late-night talks,. when you were and the spontaneous adventures you took- specifically the ones that were far from the public gaze where you didn't have to worry about hiding. It all seemed so distant now, yet so vivid.
BSF/N noticed your pensive mood and sat down beside you. "You're thinking about him, aren't you?"
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. "I miss him. I don't want to but I do. Its been months shouldn't I be over him?"
"You need to move on love. There are plenty of people who can love you better than he ever did." Your best friend stated with the conviction only that of an angry bestie could hold. "He may have been good but you can find better than that coward." You nodded along, grateful for your friend's unwavering support, but still fostering that seed of pain.
Hyunjin was grappling with his own feelings of regret and longing. He often found himself staring at his phone, contemplating whether to call you or text you. Even if he knew you had more than likely blocked him. He didn't dare text, because he didn't want to see the tangible answer to his biggest worry.
So instead threw himself into his work, using his busy schedule to distract himself from the gnawing emptiness. Rehearsals, recording sessions, and performances became his refuge. Yet, every time he stepped off stage or left the studio, the loneliness crept back in causing an ineffable ache throughout his entire being.
His friends and groupmates noticed the change in him. He was more withdrawn, quieter, his usual spark dimmed.
"Hey, you okay?" Felix asked one evening as they wrapped up practice. "You've been pretty out of it lately."
Hyunjin forced a smile. "Yeah, just tired."
Felix didn't look convinced but nodded anyway. "If you ever want to talk, you know I'm here, right? You never...really told us what happened...we want to be here to support you, you know?"
"Thanks," Hyunjin muttered, his thoughts already drifting back to you.
Nights were the hardest for the both of you. Alone in the quiet darkness, memories of Hyunjin haunted you. You didn't have his voice to fall asleep to, neither did he have your soft snores. You would often wake up, reaching out for you, to see if he was still on the line. Only to find a dark screen, only occasionally lit up with the random spam notification you got throughout the night. The ache in your chest felt unbearable, and more than once, you found yourself sobbing into your pillow, wishing things had turned out differently.
Hyunjin wasn't faring any better. He would lie awake for hours, staring at the ceiling, replaying every argument, every mistake. The guilt and regret weighed heavily on him, making sleep elusive. He missed the sound of your voice, the feel of your hand in his, the comfort of your presence.
One night, unable to bear it any longer, Hyunjin found himself walking through the city streets, lost in thought. The bustling noise of the city was a stark contrast to the turmoil inside him. He found himself standing outside your favorite café, staring through the window at the place where you'd shared so many happy moments. The happiest one being the moment he had first saw you, smiling at the register happily as a new hire taking his order- only to see the cutest face of disgust he had ever seen at the mention of the word Americano.
It was a stupid way to fall, but wasn't love stupid?
The days dragged on, and the pain didn't lessen. It became a constant, dull ache that colored everything you did. Friends and family tried to pull you out of your shell, but nothing seemed to help. The weight of Hyunjin's words lingered, a reminder of how things had fallen apart.
One particularly rough day, you received a message from your workplace. Your performance had been slipping, and they were concerned. It was a harsh wake-up call, a reminder that life was still moving forward even if you felt stuck in place.
You tried to throw yourself into work, hoping it would distract you from the pain. But every little thing reminded you of Hyunjin. The music playing in the background, a passing comment from a colleague, even the smell of coffee—all of it brought memories of him rushing back.
Hyunjin, too, was struggling to keep up appearances. He would smile for the cameras, perform with his usual energy, but behind the scenes, he was a mess. His bandmates grew increasingly worried, their attempts to cheer him up falling flat.
The breaking point came one night after a particularly grueling performance. Hyunjin had given it his all on stage, but as soon as the lights went down, the emptiness hit him like a tidal wave. He retreated to his dressing room, shutting the door behind him.
He sank to the floor, head in his hands, and let the tears fall. The loneliness, the regret, the pain—it all came crashing down. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to make things right.
Your breaking point was the night you sat alone in your apartment - BSF/N on a business trip -staring at your phone. Watching the birthday live you would have never been allowed to watch if your roommate was home. The ache was too unbearable, and sparked your motivation to finally let go so you could be free from it.
Once you had hit 3 months without Hyunjin, the pain began to change. It didn't lessen, but it became a part of you, a background noise that you learned to live with. You went through the motions of daily life, but the joy and spark you once had were dulled. But as 3 months turned to 6 months which then turned to 9 months, it was almost a distant memory. And you were able to laugh again, the hollowness of your cheeks disappearing and becoming flushed with youth and your noticeable dimples once more.
Hyunjin's friends and bandmates continued to support him, but they could see the toll it was taking. He was a shadow of his former self, his passion dulled by the heartbreak. It was unnoticeable to the public - to them he seemed fine, they just minimized his dull eyes to exhaustion rather than depression. But to his best friends, it was as clear as day how hard he worked to push through every day.
"Hyunjin," Chan said one evening, pulling him aside. "You can't keep going like this. You need to start living again."
Hyunjin shook his head. "I can't move on...what if they come back- what if - what if they take me back?"
"You're never going to know unless you try talking to them," Chan urged. "You owe it to yourself, to both of you, to at least try. Seungmin has seen Y/N around. They've talked and he says it seems like Y/N is struggling as well. Even if you don't get back together, if you become friends again first..." Chan sighed. "Seungmin asked Y/N to unblock you. So I'd try reaching out."
But Hyunjin couldn't bring himself to reach out. The fear of making things worse, of hearing that you had moved on, was too much to bear. So, he continued to suffer in silence, the weight of his regret a constant burden.
For you, moving on felt impossible at first.
One evening an old friend was hosting a small get-together and wanted you to come. It was a chance to get out, to try and find some semblance of normalcy.
You had reluctantly agreed. The evening was a blur of faces and conversations, none of which seemed to penetrate the fog of your indifference until and old crush had sparked conversation with you...
Back in his apartment, Hyunjin stared at his phone, fingers hovering over your contact. He wanted to reach out, to apologize, to try and make things right. But the fear of rejection, of causing you more pain, held him back.
He set the phone down with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. The silence of the apartment was deafening, each minute feeling like an hour. He missed you more than words could express, but he didn't know how to bridge the gap that had formed between you.
But in a spur of confidence he sent you a message. Simply apologizing as asking if it would be okay to meet up as friends.
Because he needed you in his life in some manner. He knew he couldn't live without you. And he would be content with loving you quietly, unknowingly, putting on a mask of platonic affection if it meant you'd stay around.
Which seemed to be what he would have to do, after recieving your response.
He didn't know whether to cry tears or joy or pain.
Because while you had agreed to meet him again, to spark a new relationship with him - he immediately regretted ever harboring a hope of you loving him again.
Especially after seeing your profile in his feed for the first time in a long time, causing him to wish he hadn't reached out, wish you hadn't unblocked him- wish you weren't so kind and loving to agree to be his friend again.
Because no amount of time with you, no amount of your presence could ever be enough to even cover a fraction of the pain he felt seeing a new face in your feed.
A face that mimicked the exact face he had in your company.
Eyes that mirrored the exact sentiment and display of love he felt.
The face of one who knew the one they loved was the moon in a world full of stars.
And he knew from experience just how easy it would be for you to fall for someone who gave you that-
Considering he had been that person for you once...
(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)
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@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric
@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee
@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin
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@minsungsthirdwheel @dreammix88
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folkloresthings · 2 months
Text
❛ HEAVEN KNOWS ❜ ❨ lando norris x singer!reader ❩
📻 track three: you’re just a boy (and i’m kinda the man)
in which the they were the perfect couple, until they weren’t. or in which we take a look back into what made heaven itself fall apart.
… OCTOBER 2023
INSTAGRAM. october second.
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yourusername time for another track! 🤡 i first started writing you're just a boy (and i'm kinda the man) after listening non-stop to taylor swift and shania twain and i decided what i really needed was to take those feelings and make a female power song of my own. so i wrote one! it helped me to remember that losing the love of a man does not make you any less of a person, and i hope it can do the same for others. oh, and it's also a bop.
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user QUEEN
taylorswift you're kinda making me feel like... i'm the man 💪👸
user i fear this will tear lando's ego to shreds
⤷ user it doesn't feel fair on him, like he doesn't get to tell his side of the story
⤷ user girl there's definitely a reason he's kept quiet 😭
lissiemackintosh soooo excited for this one!!!! my new karaoke song?
⤷ yourusername come at do it at the concerts
⤷ lissiemackintosh i like your fans too much to do that to them
user CLOWN LANDO ERA
REWIND... OCTOBER 2022
"guess what, guess what!"
lando was mid-game when you rushed into the living room, glancing up from the television when you bound into view. he slips back one side of his headphones, eyes following suit a few moments later once the screen is paused.
“what?”
“guess!”
lando sighs, but a smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “lewis finally retired?”
“no, silly.” scoffing, you slap at his arm and plonk down next to him on the couch. “management just called — i’ve been asked if i want to do a world stadium tour. the bowl, wembley, madison square garden!”
lando’s mouth fell open in slight shock, your excitement obviously contagious as his eyes light up. in a split second he wraps his arms around you and hugs you tightly.
“holy shit, babe,” he murmurs, squeezing your waist.
“i know,” you squeal quietly, muffled against his shoulder. “they just need to set up the next album release and then announce the dates.”
behind your embrace, the cogs of lando’s head start to turn and calculate the information. sitting back, he looks at you with confusion set in his brow.
“when would that be?” he asks, head tilted.
you shrug, not noticing his growing resentment of the news. “depends. they want the album done for late summer, so that means an autumn release. so probably in the new year.”
“the second half of the season?”
lando’s cold tone makes you smile, almost uncomfortably, waiting for his former excitement to return. uneasily, you nod.
“well, yeah, but—”
“i thought you said you were going to come to all the races, since you’ve only been to monaco and silverstone this season?” he cuts you off. you catch the frustration in his eyes like a hawk, shifting off of his lap before it bubbles over. “you’re not going to be able to do that if you’re on tour.”
“that’s not true,” you try and reason, hopeful that your calm tone might balance his. “there’s texas and vegas. besides, i don’t even know what dates i’ll have shows yet, i could fly in for race days.”
lando shakes his head, pushing himself from the couch cushions and onto his feet. “that’s not the point. you promised you’d be there for me this season. i actually have a chance for once, and you don’t even care.”
the dismissive tone that spits off his tongue makes you flinch, a heavy frown falling around your cheeks. “what am i supposed to do? turn down my biggest tour yet to come watch you race every single week?”
“yes!” lando exclaims, turning sharply. “that’s what good girlfriends do — look at kika and lily!”
anger pricks at your eyes and throat, swallowing hard to keep it at bay. “you haven’t been to one of my shows in months. you don’t even have time to listen to demos when i ask you to. there are two of us in this relationship, lando. it isn’t always about you.”
you see his defence ready behind his lips but you’re quicker, ready before he can speak.
“i went to every single race last season,” you tell him. your tone is calm, steady — making the words even more intense. “every one. i have been your biggest fan since day one. so don’t ever, ever, say i’m being selfish.”
lost for words, lando stares at you. only because he knows it’s true does he halt his argument there, turning and storming into the bedroom to preserve some dignity. you stare at the slamming door and wonder how he can watch on so easily as you slip through his fingers, and not want to do anything at all?
INSTAGRAM. november twenty—fourth.
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yourusername always your #1 fan (even when you dnf) 🫶
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carlossainz55 did he get a lollipop for being a good patient?
⤷ yourusername and a sticker 😄😄
user poor lando
landonorris my favourite nurse ❤️
user they’re sooooo cute
user that crash looked bad
yourusername dw guys i’m giving him lots of kisses and rubs better !!!!!
⤷ landonorris not as many as i’d like 😏
⤷ yourusername you’ve got a hello kitty plaster on your head you cannot be seductive right now
"oh, shit."
the fight that dreaded evening had hung over both you and lando for weeks, both of you much too stubborn to admit to any wrongdoing or, god forbid, apologise. but you carried on. if anything it was worse than not speaking. it was like nothing had happened, as if the conversation never even happened, as long as neither one of you mentioned it. still, there was a tension holding you at arms length from each other.
so to not bring up the same argument again, you followed lando to the next few races. come vegas, you had given yourself so much time to think about things and the way lando had handled it all that your mind was screaming at you to leave. to book a flight home, pack up your stuff and go. because how much more of this could you take? you weren't the trophy girlfriend, the wag whose only job was to look pretty beside her accomplished boyfriend.
you would do it after vegas, you decided. there was a few days off; time for you to talk to lando and explain your feelings, before walking out with your head held high just in time for the next race. then, the worst happened.
chatting idly to lily, the race only just beginning, you almost missed it. for a moment, you thought it was oscar spinning out. the bright orange sparks masked which number was painted onto the car, spinning drastically until the nose of the vehicle slammed into the barriers. lily grasped your arm, her sympathetic eyes making you look twice. number four, lando.
in a daze, you followed the one of the marshalls through the busy paddock until you reached the ambulance area. he had already been loaded in, paramedics and mclaren employees surrounding him. there wasn't enough room, they needed to go now.
"hop in, i'll drive you," charlotte's gentle voice appeared beside you, guiding you into the car as the ambulance hurried off. "they said he's probably fine, they just want to do the usual checks."
you nod, trusting her. you could always trust charlotte, right?
after what felt like hours, you arrived to the hospital and didn't think twice about elbowing every single person out of your way until you reached lando's room. he was laid still on the bed, eyes watching the small television in the corner. his leg was strapped up, an iv stuck into his arm, various bruises littering his skin and face. he looked up when he heard you, a crooked smile playing on his lips.
"it looks worse than it is," he assured you, noticing the panic in your eyes straight away. you breathe out some of the relief, the rest coming in a sudden pool of tears. "hey - hey, c'mere."
lando outstretches the arm that doesn't hurt like a bitch, ushering you to his side. you don't hesitate, lip wobbling as you hurry over and perch yourself on the side of the bed. tucked into his shoulder, you nuzzle as closely as you can without hurting him.
"i'm sorry, i'm so sorry," you mumble, and you both know just what you're apologising for. what was a stupid fight worth when chalked up to all of this?
"me too," lando replies quietly, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head.
sitting back, you look over his face. a small scratch from the helmet, just above his cheekbone. his eyes are drooping, tired from the impact and the drugs. you sniffle and smile sadly, thumb brushing over the wound.
"i'm going to move the tour," you tell him, and note that he doesn't protest. "if i'm on the other side of the world and something happens, i—”
lando shakes his head, cutting you off with a kiss. "nothing's going to happen. i'm still in one piece, aren't i?"
you hesitate, then nod, letting him shift over so you can lay next to him. resting your head on his chest, both of you quietly watching the rest of the race, you feel your head spin. maybe he had been losing you, but could you survive losing him?
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writers note: we're back baby. lando count yr days my man
taglist: @openthenyoor01 @racingheartsworld @celestialend @cha-hot @gr1mes-cc @bingussthirdtoe @destinyg237 @theonottsbxtch @allywthsr @imsorare @youdontknowmeshh @bellewintersroe @orangetreekid
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weirdkpopgirl · 6 months
Text
Stealing Kisses | Dream Reaction #14
Reaction: When their gf steals a kiss from them
Genre: Fluff, slight angst in some
Warnings: insecure thoughts, kinda suggestive, light making out in Jaemin's, kissing (obviously lol)
Word Count: ~3.1k
Author's Note: This idea came to me last week I think, and I thought it'd be fun to write. I think you guys like this type of stuff too lol. It was also nice to write something sweet and fluffy, a break from my recent stuff. Hope you all like it and thank you for reading ^ ^
P.S. I'm currently have a few fics I'm working on. But I'm going to try writing some shorter stories for the members and group things to fill up my second masterlist.
~ ~ ~
mark
The two of you were lying side by side on his bed, your gazes fixed on the ceiling. Mark was sharing his late-night thoughts, and you were listening attentively. Nights like these were a regular occurrence, mostly because Mark often had something weighing on his mind. Though it was usually just him recounting his busy day, tonight things seemed to carry a more serious tone.
“Sometimes, I’m just really not satisfied with myself,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Like so many people are relying on me— with the company, 127 and Dream. Then there are the fans too, I don’t want to fail them. But no matter how much time and energy I put in, it’s not enough.”
You carefully processed your boyfriend’s concerns, trying to put yourself in his shoes. It was so easy to say he was just overthinking and shouldn’t worry so much. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do so, given that you faced similar struggles. Those dismissive words weren’t what either of you needed to hear. Mark was undoubtedly the most hardworking person you knew, but you understood all too well the feeling of never quite doing enough.
Before speaking this time, you opted for a different approach of consolation. You shifted around to gently place your hand on his cheek, guiding his gaze towards you. With closed eyes, you leaned in to kiss him softly. Your lips moved slowly against his, hoping he could feel the comfort of your touch. Soon enough, Mark’s hand rested comfortably on your back, reciprocating the affection.
You stifled a light giggle as you pulled away, catching his slightly confused expression. Offering a small smile you used your thumb to caress his cheek reassuringly.
“You’re doing great, Mark,” you whispered sincerely. “You might not think so at times, but I’m always so proud of you.”
And it was those words that caused tears to gloss over Mark’s eyes. Then he was pulling you into a much-needed embrace, holding you tightly in his arms. You could feel the warmth of his smile as he mumbled, “Babe, I love you so much.”
Though you didn’t necessarily need to return the words for him to understand, you still said you loved him too. He deserved it, after all. He deserved every bit of love, understanding, and support. And you were more than willing to give it to him, wholeheartedly.
•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•
renjun 
You emerged from the kitchen, holding a plate of freshly cut mango in your hand. Renjun was sitting at the table, fully absorbed in the watercolor painting in front of him. Seeing him use the paint set you got for his birthday brought a smile to your face. He was so engrossed in the activity that he almost didn’t hear you sit in the empty chair beside him.
Renjun momentarily glanced up from his artwork to greet you. “Hey.”
“Hey,” you replied quietly, carefully placing the plate of fruit on the table. The two of you shared a smile before his attention was on painting again.
For a moment, you paused to admire the way his focused expression softened his features, making him even more endearing in your eyes. You always found joy in watching your boyfriend immerse himself in the things he loved. Renjun consistently poured his heart and soul into everything he did, and that dedication was one of the many reasons your relationship flourished so beautifully. 
After a few minutes passed by of you silently observing the boy, you leaned into place a quick kiss on his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, and a faint blush followed. 
“What was that for?” he asked, voice laced with curiosity.
You simply shrugged in response before confessing, “Just thought you looked cute.”
Renjun’s soft chuckle was like honey for your ears, and you couldn’t suppress a smile. “Oh is that so?” he teased, amusement twinkling in his eyes even as his gaze softened when he looked at you.
Now it was your turn to feel shy, heat naturally rushing to your face. Without a word, you reached for a slice of mango and lifted it to Renjun’s lips, quietly offering the yellow piece of fruit to him. Lucky for you, his eyes sparkled with fondness as he accepted the treat. 
However, he didn’t waste the chance to quickly steal a kiss from your lips, before taking a bite. Your eyes mirrored the surprise he had experienced earlier, and Renjun laughed now the tables had been turned. He savored the sweetness of the mango, just as he savored the sweet moment shared between the two of you.
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jeno 
You weren’t exactly expecting to return home to Jeno sprawled across your sofa. It was late at night, and you technically should have been back in your apartment much earlier. However, you got caught up in helping your friend rehearse for an audition and lost track of time. If you had known your boyfriend would be coming, you definitely would’ve gone home sooner.
 After quietly removing your shoes and shedding off your jacket, you carefully crossed the room to check the man resting on the couch. He looked so peaceful with his eyes blissfully shut and the pillow he held close to his chest. Yet, you couldn’t help but frown, thinking about how he must’ve been exhausted from work. While he never complained, you usually saw through his facade.
With a barely audible sigh, you fetched a cozy blanket to drape over him and tucked it snugly around his sleeping form. Leaning down, your lips pressed to his forehead and let your lips linger for a moment before pulling away. You straightened up, ready to start your nightly routine before heading to bed yourself. However, you froze when a warm hand tugged at your wrist. 
“Don’t go,” he murmured, almost sounding like a child begging his mom not to leave. 
The unexpected sound of his voice made your heart skip a beat. “Sorry for waking you up,” you apologized sheepishly, turning back to see him.
He shifted over a bit to give you some space, and you sat down beside him. Without thinking, your hand subconsciously moved to stroke his hair gently. He hummed at the sensation, appreciating any sort of affection from you.
“Don’t apologize. I liked it,” he said softly, leaning further into your touch. “Do you always kiss me when I’m asleep?”
“Sometimes,” you admitted quietly, feeling a blush creeping up your cheeks.
A small pout formed on his lips in response. “You should just kiss me when I’m awake so I can give you one back.”
His words would’ve sounded playful if they hadn’t been spoken in such a sulky tone. But of course, you sort of expected this reaction from Jeno. Chuckling softly, your embarrassment gradually began to melt away.
Moving your hand to caress his face, you casually said, “Well you can give me one now if you’d like.”
With your permission, Jeno happily sat up to pull you closer for a kiss that made your head spin. Nonetheless, it was a tender moment that left you both with silly smiles as you parted. Afterward, you took his hand in yours and suggested you both move to the bedroom so he could sleep more comfortably.
Later, as you cuddled up together in bed, Jeno smiled to himself as he felt a rush of love he felt for you. Even though it was past one a.m., he still found himself falling for you all over again.
•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•
haechan 
To say the least, Haechan was a little restless just chilling in his apartment with you. Usually, he liked being at home, especially with your company. But the original plan for today was to have a lovely date at Han River, which was forfeited due to the ongoing thunderstorm outside. He regretted not looking at the weather forecast beforehand.
So to cure his self-proclaimed “boredom,” Haechan proposed the idea of playing the pepero game. At first, you tried to decline, knowing that you’d be signing up for endless teasing and blushing on your part. That didn’t sound very fun to you.
“Oh come on, babe!” he pleaded, shaking the pepero box. “I won’t be annoying this time, promise.”
Knowing he was going to keep whining until you agreed, you reluctantly set aside the book you were using to ignore him. “Ugh, fine. But just this once!” you conceded, holding your pointer finger up as a warning.
Haechan grinned triumphantly as he tore open the bag inside the box to retrieve a Pepero stick. He moved to where you were sitting on the couch and lifted the chocolate-covered treat to your lips, gesturing to open it. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly complied and took the stick with your teeth. Haechan took hold of the other end, his eyes already sparkling with mischief.
As the two of you started nibbling, Haechan promptly contradicted his earlier promise of not being annoying. His eyes sparkled with mischief when you hesitated after he took the next bite, leaving only a few centimeters left. No matter how often you had been in close proximity with your boyfriend, there was something uniquely captivating about the way his warm tan skin was adorned with scattered moles, and how you could get lost in his deep brown eyes. Seeing those features up close always stirred a weirdly fluttery sensation in your heart.
“Don’t tell me you’re getting shy already, (Y/n),” he teased, his words slightly muffled by the long biscuit between his teeth. You merely glared at him in response, unwilling to admit how easily you were influenced by him.
To rebel, you decided to make a bold move of your own this time. Despite your racing heart, you seized the opportunity and bit the remaining piece, but not without planting a swift kiss on his lips. Haechan froze for a moment as you pulled away. A laugh escaped when you saw that he was too stunned to speak. Well, that was one way to shut him up.
Feigning innocence, you asked, “That’s what you wanted, am I wrong?”
It didn’t take long for a grin to spread across the boy’s lips. The initial shock of your unexpected kiss was replaced by a look of amusement. In the next moment, his right arm encircled your waist, drawing you close once more. You didn’t even have time to blush before his lips began to explore every exposed inch of your skin.
“You’re so bad for me,” he murmured between kisses, his fingers tangling your hair. “But I love it.”
You giggled, surrendering to the warmth of his affection. Maybe you’d be more inclined to indulge in games with Haechan now, knowing they’d end up like this.
•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•°•❀•
jaemin
In the solace of his apartment, Jaemin observed you interact with his cats in the living room. Usually, he’d be cooing and snapping a hundred pictures of you and his children. However, he wasn’t very amused at the moment.
Na Jaemin never thought he’d be jealous of his babies until he saw Luke rubbing against your leg and hopping into your lap. Your giggly response and the way you tenderly stroked your fingers through the feline’s soft white hair, certainly didn’t make him feel any better. Although he loved his pets dearly, seeing them snuggle up to you so easily made him feel a bit envious. 
“Hmmph, it seems like you’ve become more fond of Luke than your own boyfriend,” he scoffed, not even bothering to hide it. 
You looked up, noticing how he was resting his head in the palm of his hand, his elbow propped on the couch’s armrest. His body language fully displayed his discontent, and you tried not to laugh. Rolling your eyes, you returned Luke to his siblings and tugged the collar of Jaemin’s hoodie to pull him in for a sweet kiss. 
Any negative feelings dissipated instantly as his heart fluttered at the touch of your lips against his. Warmth spread through him like wildfire. But before he could reciprocate the kiss, you pulled away with a playful glint in your eyes.
“Does that make you happy?” you teased, gently pushing him back to give yourself some space.
Adoration shined over Jaemin’s eyes as he grinned. “Hm, I think another one would make me even happier,” he said, his voice husky with desire.
Before you could even respond this time, Jaemin was already leaning in to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that sent sparks flying between you. One of his hands rested on the nape of your neck, allowing him to press his lips harder against yours, while the other was placed firmly on your waist. Though you were initially caught off guard by the sudden intensity of the kiss, you decided to enjoy this moment of intimacy.
As you melted into each other’s arms, Jaemin was reminded once again of just how amazing it felt to be loved by you. Honestly, if he could have one wish, he’d probably wish to kiss you forever.
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chenle 
The steaming pot of oxtail soup stared up at you, and you lowered the heat to let it simmer some more. It was your first time cooking the Chinese soup. But recalling how your mom used to make it when you were younger, figuring it on your own hadn’t been too difficult. Although you were mostly confident in your culinary skills, you still wanted to be sure.
“Lele, can you come here for a sec?” you called out to your boyfriend who was probably playing some mobile game in the living room. 
You could hear rustling sounds, and soon the sound of slippers padding against the wooden floor reached your ears.  “Smells good babe,” he said, shuffling over to your side. 
Something about seeing Chenle waddle into the kitchen, wearing a black sweatshirt with the hood over his messy hair, made your heart strangely beat faster. But instead of ignoring that feeling like you usually did, you decided to act on it this time.
After dipping a spoon in the red broth, you raised the utensil to his mouth. “Taste it for me.”
Chenle complied, allowing you to feed him some of the soup. You tried to suppress a laugh as a smug yet impressed expression appeared on his face. However, before he could give you his feedback, you swiftly leaned in to give him a peck. 
The male froze for a moment at your actions. You chuckled softly and hugged his waist, as your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. His eyes widened in surprise before the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. A part of him wanted to tease you for stepping out of your shy image, but he also found himself enjoying it a little too much. 
“Did you like it?” you asked, glancing up at him innocently.
Chenle’s cocky grin widened as he leaned in closer. His eyes twinkled with mischief, as he used his pointer finger to gently tilt your chin upward. “Wait, let me taste it again to just be sure,” he teased.
It didn’t take much for you to understand that he was not talking about the food. You simply smiled as his lips brushed against yours before he went all in. Shivers danced down your spine as you melted into the electrifying kiss. By the time you finally pulled apart, Chenle was smiling like an idiot.
“Hm, that was delicious,” he breathed, earning a playful smack on the shoulder from you. Even though you had started it, his comment was unnecessary in your opinion. Was he trying to kill you?
Trying to recover from your now flustered state, you returned your attention to the brewing pot on the stove. Chenle’s laugh rang through your ears, and then he was squeezing you into a backhug. It was those types of moments that reassured you that being with Chenle could never be boring.
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jisung 
Amidst the dark sky, the street lamps cast a soft, golden glow as you walked back to your apartment. Jisung strolled beside you, holding your hand securely. Occasionally, you smiled to yourself, thinking about how tonight had been another lovely date, filled with laughter, shared stories, and stolen glances that spoke volumes without a single word.
As you neared your apartment building, you felt Jisung’s fingers intertwined with yours tighten. A sense of reluctance washed over him, realizing that he wasn’t ready to say goodbye tonight yet. Your presence always brought Jisung a sense of warmth that made him the happiest when you were together. He wanted to experience that just a little while longer.
Pausing in front of your door, your eyes widened when you were pulled into a tight embrace. Jisung seemed clingier than usual this evening, but you honestly couldn’t complain. You returned the hug by wrapping your arms around his waist and letting your nose press against the oversized hoodie he was wearing. The scent of the perfume Renjun recently bought for him filled your senses. It wasn’t bad, you thought to yourself.
“I miss you already,” Jisung murmured, his chin relaxing against your head. 
The soft longing in his voice left your heart melting. These were the types of words you expected to read in texts from Jisung. So hearing them in person was even more touching. A smile tugged on your lips and you pulled away slightly to glance around, ensuring there were no cameras around. Once you confirmed there were no prying eyes that might stir trouble for either of you, you reached up on your tiptoes and pressed a quick but passionate kiss to Jisung’s lips.
He blinked in surprise, heat immediately rushing to his cheeks as the unexpected affection registered through his mind. Any kiss from you always made his heart flutter and left him wearing a shy smile. Nonetheless, witnessing the fondness in your eyes as you were blushing too was irresistible for Jisung.
Chuckling he moved his hand to gently pat your head. “Cute.”
You blushed a little at his words and squeezed in one last hug before he reluctantly released you to head inside. 
“I love you, Ji,” you said quietly, glancing back one last time to ensure he heard you. He exhaled shakily and said he loved you more.
There was an unspoken sadness shared between you, both feeling the weight of the parting. The two of you were uncertain of when or where you’d meet again. However, you found comfort in the knowledge that the love you had with Jisung was too strong to let too much time pass without seeing each other. In the meantime, you would cherish those precious memories together.
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previous masterlist -> new masterlist
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suuuupernovaaa · 1 year
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Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader
You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.
Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.
The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.
"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"
Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.
"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.
"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.
"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."
He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.
"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.
"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.
"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."
You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.
"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."
You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.
You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.
"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.
"It doesn't really matter. It's over."
"It matters to me."
You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."
He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."
You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."
Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"
You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."
He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"
"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."
"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."
How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?
"How do you look at me?"
"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."
It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.
Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.
"It does?" you ask finally.
He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."
You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.
"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.
You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.
He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."
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guppybibi · 12 days
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Late WIP Wednesday ..
(aaa km not sure if i should finish this, it started off strong but just fell off and now my brain isnt working)
Simon’s home & marriage was his refuge, until it wasn't. He knew something wasn't right when you were coincidentally prepared for his return, all dolled up when you greeted him with an “I miss you” kiss. No, he was sure it wasn't you when he saw that the dinner table was prepared with a generous spread of food on it.
There was no reason for you to come this prepared, everytime he comes home from deployment is a surprise. So..how exactly are you this ready? It didn't sit right with him, the whole thing felt like it came out of a painfully obvious scripted reality TV show.
But food was food and after countless weeks spent eating barely edible MRE’s, a home cooked meal was all he needed. Sluggishly, he sat down at his unsaid designated spot at the dinner table. He closely watched if you would sit down at your designated spot, if you didn't; that’d explained a lot. You do end up sitting at your spot, it wasn't all that hard to do though. Dinner with you was unsettling to say the least, all of the small talk you were making felt forced, it’s barely been an hour and he already feels like he's going crazy.
He knows more than to question you upfront though, having gone through enough interrogations to know that he should take his time and that you could get hostile if things don't go your way. You could be a threat for all he knew, and it's better to be safe than sorry. Unsure if it was the right decision, he starts out some sort of small talk himself, asking you some seemingly innocent questions.
“What were yer up to while I was gone, luv?” He asks mid chew. “Oh not much, I just picked up a new hobby actually. Clay sculpting! I've been watching online tutorials, I could say I’ve been getting the hang of it if I do say so myself.” Liar, was all he could think while he subconsciously nodded to your words. You hated clay, not fond of the texture it had and the way it’d get stuck under your nails. Perhaps it was another one of your impulsive decisions, jumping into conclusions should be the last thing he should be doing. It could cost him more harm than good, so he lets it slide. For now at least.
“Sculpting eh? That's new, have ye finished any?” He pauses, swallowing his food. “I’d love to see them.” A spark lights up in your eyes, but it didn't look right. There's a lit candle in there but it's far, far away. The lack of life in your eyes makes his stomach spin like there's a guinea pig rolling around in their wheel in there, it made him want to puke. He wasn't the biggest fan of prolonged eye contact anyway, so he’ll just avoid looking you in the eye to prevent making a mess. “Oh yeah I actually do! They're already displayed on top of our shelves, I’ll show them to you after.” You exclaim, if that was you anyway, which it wasn't.
Dinner passed at an uncomfortably slow pace, Simon swore he could hear each individual tick and tock of the clock, the scraping of utensils against the porcelain plates and each chew you took. He’s gone through debatably louder things than this, the booms of the explosions were unforgettable after all but this somehow takes the cake. Wanting to distract himself further, he helps with washing the dishes which you normally did but you specifically chose today to help do the other minor chores. Water, that was your weak point. He noticed it, you didn't drink water after dinner either. What kind of monster doesn't drink water to hydrate after eating roasted pork?
To test out this thought of his, he decided to ask another question. “I'm heading to the shower, luv. Care to join me?” Meekly, he suggests to you, deep brown eyes staring intently as he awaited the already expected answer. “Oh I..actually already showered earlier dear. Maybe next time.” A dishearteningly dismissive reply, just like he expected. “Alright, suit yourself luv. I'll be back.”
He thought about it, almost forgetting about the bubbly soap running down his body from how deep in thought he was. There was no doubt about it anymore, everything about you being you, pointed away. At this point, he didn't care what the fake you was anymore, rather where you actually were. You could've been dead for all he knew, replaced by the soulless woman that now roams around his home.
This was beyond cruel, beyond the pain physical torture could've caused. It was like the universe was a cat and he was a yarn ball, being played by it meticulously. The whole thing was definitely planned out by a certain someone he knew, the both of you are fairly private so it couldn't have been a random person. He couldn't handle this alone, as much as he’d hate to admit, the situation was way bigger than him to do alone. So, he decides to call a trusted someone.
“You tellin’ me ye think your wife got abducted or something..and a doppelgänger replaced her?” A gruff voice questions, lightly tapping his cigar against the side of the ashtray. Price, him and Kate are the only members of the Task Force so far that Simon allowed you to meet. Well, it unfortunately looks like the sergeants won't get to meet you under these circumstances just yet. Strangely enough, the clocks inside the pub weren't working. Must be a malfunction. The masked man nodded, sighing through his nose when he got a whiff of the alcohol-filled air in the bar.
“I feel so.” He grumbled. “Couldn't she be just having an off day? We all have those, Simon.” John opposes it, it was an unquestionable possibility they couldn't simply ignore. “No, I know my wife. In my years of being with her, she's never acted this way.” Ghost hissed back, a hint of crystal clear impatience seeping out from his words. The lack of respect in his tone wasn't intended, but what could he do when his wife is apparently kidnapped and replaced so seamlessly? “I guess you have a point, but you need to confirm it Simon. You shouldn't make any decision on impulse, if the woman in your home really isn't your wife then this is a bigger issue.”
Then the plan was set, still a little all over the place but there really wasn't any time to lose. Simon would further observe the woman who's allegedly ‘you’ to make sure he isn't making things up, then if he was incredibly sure it wasn't you, he’ll head to the police and file a report for a missing person. In all honesty, it wasn't hard to do, having gone through missions more intense than this. Yet the fact that you were involved made the bugs inside of him crawl, this was totally his fault.
He didn't hide you away from the world enough, he should've just kept you locked inside a cage like the little birdie you were to avoid any danger coming your way. Simon wasn't stupid though, that was inhumane, you were one of the only few people who has managed to make Simon feel less of a ghost and more of a human. So doing such a thing to you was unethical and out of the books, but how could you blame him for subconsciously letting his possessiveness and worry take over when you're literally so far from his grasp? Being so near before that he could easily grip at the back of your top, now so far that the trace of your scent is long gone.
It makes Simon feel sick, his core being left to rot. He comes from the pub to what felt like an empty house, not home because nothing would feel like home without you there. He’d rather be living in a pile of rocks and plywood with you than in a giant mansion without you, that would be the real hell. “Bloody hell..where are you?” He murmurs under his breath, stressedly rubbing his creased forehead. If he could, he’d pry at every surface that comes up within his sight just to find you.
“I’m back.” He whispers, unsure if the fake you was asleep or not. Anyone, human or not wouldn't be happy being woken up from their slumber. “Welcome home, hun. You alright?” Looking up from your cup of tea, you ask. “Yeah, just spoke with the Captain. That's all, no alcohol.” Simon was so used to you being a worrywart about his alcohol intake, telling you that he didn't have any alcohol is practically ingrained into the wrinkles of his brain. But the woman in front of him didn't seem to care less about his health, let alone him in general. The lack of nagging that usually filled his ears to the brim didn't feel right, he would've much rather gone through another one of your yap sessions about how constant alcohol intake affects him in the long run than..just silence.
He feels the desperation inching up on him, eating him whole. At this point, he's willing to admit he doesn't want you. He needs you. He needs to hear your fretful complaints about him getting deployed, knowing you’d shut up because you were used to it by now. He needs you to tell him to include more vegetables in his diet because he's not some kind of carnivore to be eating that much meat. God, he just needs you with him. Whatever bloody thing came with you he’d take like it was on a stupid Black Friday sale.
“Not yet..” He’d think every single night, eyes wide open as he prevents himself from making a rash decision. The woman sleeping soundly right next to him, if that was you..But it wasn't, even if he stared at the unfamiliar woman for ten hours straight, she wouldn't just magically turn into you. Well sure, she was a carbon copy of you from head to toe but she simply just didn't scream ‘you’. Whatever and whoever you were anyway.
“When all is said and done, I think it'll end well Simon. My gut feeling tells me so, it's rarely ever wrong so I’m pretty sure we should trust it.” You ramble on and on, the little amount of alcohol taking over your lightweight self. Simon was still courting you here, yet he remembers it like it's been replayed in his mind like a broken record. He trusted your gut, and he could consider that as one of the best choices he's ever made in life.
But..trusting you now? While you're probably out, all shivering & teeth clattering from the immense cold night? Impossible, he’s fully aware that you're a capable strong woman however..how far can his trust go? How far do you have to venture into someone’s soul to gain their fragile trust, something that can be easily broken with your own bare hands? Ghost doesn't trust you, but Simon does.
“You're a strong gal, you can hold on for much longer.” He supposes, deep in thought while he flipped around in bed. The fake you hasn't set off any red flags yet, acting normal. Too normal. He knew ‘you’ had a purpose for being here, one with malicious intent, though what exactly? One wouldn't simply come in here and replace his wife with a fake one just out of spite, unless they were a little cuckoo. Tossing aside to check the time, he presses the ‘on’ button on his phone. Weird, the time didn't show up. Maybe it's just a glitch in the system.
“Simon, Hey? Simon, wake up. Hurry, you need to get up.” A voice shakes, lightly nudging him in order to awake him. It's your voice, he can instantly sense its meekness. With one eye and another, they flutter open, still full of sleep in them. “Oh thank goodness, you're awake! But you seriously need to wake up, like right now.” You crooned, hoping he’d fully wake up to the sound of your voice. Groaning, Simon sat up, a few joints popping in the process. “What..? Yeah, I’m awake luv. Whad’ya need me for?” He questions groggily, eyes opening further once he gets a closer look at you. It's actually you, he can tell! The way your eyes meet his, connecting like a bee landing on a precious flower. The way your voice lilted to him like a mother bird nursing her hatchlings, it really was you.
“Wait–luv? You're here? Bloody hell, you actually are–Did you see the other gal who looked just like you? Tell me I’m not losing my shit please.” Then you shushed him, convinced he’ll continuously go on and on if you didn't. “Please listen to me closely, Simon.” You pause, noticing how his eyes bask in yours like it was long overdue. “You need to wake up, hurry.”
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savnofilter · 1 year
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At First | Izuki Midoriya
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      Pro Hero!Izuku Midoriya x Fiancé![FEM]Reader
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WARNING(S): sexual content, brat!reader, oral (f -> m), face fucking, reader low-key annoying asf, reader gets their doonies beat down, reader is a crier and squirter, mating press, reader is folded as she gets fucked, sometimes Midoriya gives mercy, sex with (barely) any clothes on, Midoriya is a big fan of eye contact, hickies, reader has brunch with bsf in the morning, established relationship.
WORD COUNT: 3.5k (14 mins).
READ MORE: masterlist + [students masterlist]
A/N: this originally was supposed to be written during panini19 so i had to come up with a new context as to why reader and midoriya were 'stuck' together. ☠️ either way i think i salvaged this pretty okay! wish i had finished this sooner lol... but anyways, thank you anon & @chxrryp0p !!
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Being cooped up in your shared penthouse was starting to become unbearable.
For Midoriya, less for you.
You see, recently, Midoriya has been on break for about a month, and the country was trying to adjust to it all. At certain times, he would have to clock in for emergency missions. Still, other than that, he has been vacationing with you, his fiancé, for about a month now.
At first, it was terrific. The saying that the heart grows fonder the longer you’re away is absolutely correct. Midoriya was all over you with his overwhelming urge to smother you in affection when he finally returned from being away for so long. You two would wake up, cook together, eat, have a good time for some of the afternoon, and then spend the rest of the night,, “catching up.” You did this routinely so that neither of you had to say what to do next for the day. You just knew. Later that night, you two would reconnect like tenfold when he would be off to save a city or something.
So yes, at first, it was great. Then, your behavior started to change.
However, not in a way that he found unbearable, but in a way that annoyed him. You would make little jokes about how “smol” he was—he hadn’t heard shit like that in years—or bluntly tease him about how subby and whiny he could get during sex.
“Hey, Izuku, can you get that for me?” You ask, pointing to the pair of headphones that dropped on the floor not too long ago.
Midoriya, being the kind fiancé he is, picks it up without a second thought, oblivious to your other ulterior motives. He’s met with a mischievous look when he hands you the earbuds, his brows furrowed in confusion when you grin at him. “What’s funny…?” He questions as he watches you start to giggle to yourself.
You shake your head and wave a dismissive hand at him. “Oh, nothing….” You teasingly chide him, thanking him for the kind gesture before folding your lips in to keep yourself from continuing to make jokes about him. He narrows his eyes, not necessarily at anything but indeed in annoyance. Midoriya rolls his eyes at what you were wordlessly insinuating.
“I’m not.”
“I’m just teasing you~” You sing in his ear and grin when he turns to you with a glare. “Do you want to prove it to me?”
“Prove what?” He mumbles against your lips. He rests his phone down to properly wrap his arms around your waist now that you two are face to face. “Why do you insist I’m “pure”-”
“You are!” You laugh, “I’m just saying… with us spending so much time together now, I think I’m just now realizing how cute you are…” You trail off and give the corner of his lips a chaste kiss as a mock reassurance. You maintain eye contact with him when you pull away and get between his legs, hands resting on his knees.
Midoriya now has a clear image of you on your knees in front of him with an expression of deviance that didn’t sit right with him. A flustered blush starts to form on his face before deepening a bit as he feels a boner begin to form. Your ‘outfit’ left almost nothing to the imagination, and the visual was starting to get to him. Rolling his eyes, your fiancé decides not to entertain or indulge your persistent behavior, though. His ignorance of your obvious motives makes you pout, crossing your arms as you challenge him. Your one-sided stare off with him ultimately bugs him, your hot gaze making him stare back at you. He sighs, resting his phone down again, and crosses his arms, his body language cutting you off. “But?”
“A sub would say no~” Your grin finds its way back to your face as you watch your boyfriend’s face twist into an expression of one you’ve never seen him wear before. The lucky sensation of hitting the jackpot crawls through your body; your plan finally falling into place. It was evident that your egging on was affecting him, and today, you made sure to wear something skimpy and easy to take off, too. It was only a matter of time before you could have him right where you wanted him.
Your fiancé tries ignoring you further, not wanting to deal with your brat behavior. Maybe he is a sub. Even with all this teasing, Midoriya still holds his urge to pin you down and fuck you into oblivion. But it felt different in his circumstance; if you could be a brat, he could also be a brat. He slowly shrugs off his annoyance, a deep sigh leaving him as he returns to scrolling on his phone and quietly gives you the silent treatment. There is no mistaking the disappointment that runs through your body, and now you’re thinking of the next part of your plan: provoke him with your actions.
Your hands on his knees slowly slide up his sweatpants, covering his thighs, squeezing periodically as they slowly rise on their intended arrival. You’re looking up at him with clear intent of what you will do, but he doesn’t look back.
‘fine, two could play at this game.’ a game at which you had started. You didn’t care about the audacity; you were in the mood to annoy your fiancé.
Your softly padded fingers finally make it to his hips. You lean up a bit to press more of your weight onto his body, the feeling making him budge. One of his favorite things about having sex with you was that he loved feeling your weight on him. Most times out of ten, when you did press against him, it was an easy ticket that would lead to the inevitable.
His cold demeanor still held up, although you knew his body was fighting to keep a strong front. You lean forward to kiss against his exposed abdomen; since he tends not to wear shirts at home, you can feel his soft but taught skin under your needy lips. One of your hands slips down to palm at his rising boner, a gentle hum of approval coming from you as you feel his length. Your other hand tugs at the side of his sweats, your eyes flickering to gaze at him.
He merely gives a glance once he realizes you’re looking at him, your eyes asking for permission. He presses his lips together and helps lift his hips, your kisses still descending to where he needed it most.
You don’t break eye contact until you have his cock freed from its confines, causing his length to tap you in the face lightly. Your mouth watered as it twitched once in need, and your pussy started to crave the feeling of wanting it inside there too. You double grip the base of his length before leaning in and pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his tip, your eyes now back on him again. The game of getting him off his phone is proven successful as he now has his full attention on you, his expression nothing but lust with a noticeable building pressure of his annoyance behind it. His breathing has deepened, though, and that was due to the fact you knew how to suck him off real good.
Your tongue laps at his tip, the textured and wet muscle dragging across the sensitive part, making his hips buck up to feel more of it. A grunt from deep within his chest lets you know his patience is starting to run thin, and it took everything in you not to smile. Still, you continue to tease. Your hands languidly stroking at his lengthy dick, a soft hum coming from you as the taste of pre-cum starts to cover your taste buds.
Midoriya would be a panting mess on a regular day, begging you for more, but today, he was feeling different. Today, you were making him feel feral. The way you can push his buttons was no joke, but you always knew when not to cross a line. With one hand, he rested his hand on top of your head. He slowly forces your mouth further onto his length, a slight but sadistic smirk clawing at his lips, watching as your hands stop their stroking to find refuge on the conjuncture of where his hips and thighs meet, needing to brace yourself as you take in his entire length into your mouth.
“Suck.”
You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel the tip of his cock poke at the back of your throat, his hand unmoving, and you know that you have no choice but to do as he says. With all the might you can courage, you suckle as you can, drool starting to pool from how open your mouth sat on his member. When you whimper and tap his leg, he finally lets you up on his own accord. Midoriya decides to be generous and lets you start at your own pace. At first, you were going at a comfortable pace, the tempo and suction he was used to, and he couldn’t complain. But just like many times during this break when he has given you an inch, you would sprint a mile.
An ingenious idea pops up in your head to catch him off guard. While bobbing your head, you reach the base of his length and deep throat him again, just like when you first started. But this time, you didn’t shy away from looking up at him with fake innocence as you pulled away and took it slow instead. Midoriya’s once complicit hand now grips your hair to control your bobbing. The more he guides you, the more he doesn’t stop himself from reveling in the sight of you starting to become a slobbering mess as your attempts to tease were really starting to piss him off. Midoriya then places both his hands on the side of your head after widening his stance on the ground and sprawls a bit to gain more strength in his movements. You weren’t sure what he was doing until a strong kick of your gag reflex hit you.
He fucks his hips into your mouth as you try to keep up, eyes alarmed and hands gripping at him for support. You now had no other choice but to take him in, still bobbing your head like the greedy brat you are. You could faintly hear his labored breathing over the sounds of your poor mouth taking in his face fucking, the feeling sending deep arousal straight to your crouch.
You shift as you try to somehow ease the tension between your thighs, your eyes now prickling with tears in frustration as you so badly want to touch yourself. The ability to do that was simply impossible because you had no choice but to take your fiancé’s girthy cock in your mouth. You squeeze your thighs together to release the build-up tension in your loins, trying to brace yourself for what will happen next.
“Look at me,” Midoriya commands, a tug at your hair, making you peek an eye at him. You don’t miss the dark look in his eyes as you undoubtedly look at a mess. All of your control surrendered to him and the rough pace of his hips. For a moment, he stops altogether, and your confused eyes are peering up at him again for guidance. He tugs you off by the base of your neck, eyes dark as he stands up. Consequently, your confusion doesn’t last very long before he’s guiding your head to retake his length now that he’s standing up.
It’s obscene how the sound of you swallowing his cock echoes in the spacious living room; the bustling city sounds quickly drowned out by your full mouth, his heavy breathing, and even some of his soft profanities and sounds of pleasure to accompany yours. You don’t try to hide that you have now slipped one of your hands into your loose and tiny shorts, your other hand holding onto him for support. Your knees, although separated enough to take in his rough thrusts, were probably starting to bruise, but you didn’t care. You shamelessly moaned as your fingers played with your wet snatch; the slight hum to your noises aiding you not to gag on his length.
“Look at me, Y/N.” Midoriya tugs at your hair again to let you know he means business. Once you look up at him, he groans at your tear-filled eyes and presses you fully against the bush at the base of his cock. He holds you there as he wordlessly finishes down your throat, rocking his hips to ride the rest of his load into the back of your throat. You gurgle on his length before he pulls you away, you recoiling as you desperately try to gain your breath back from it being prolongedly taken away from you. He watches you choke and catch your breath, patting your hair down as you compose yourself. “You alright?”
You nod and wipe your mouth, only for him to grip your wrist and pick you up. He quickly tosses you onto the couch, and he’s on you, leaning down to give your messy mouth a searing kiss. His hands are heavy and fast on you, his fingers tugging down your useless tank, and his other moves your shorts and panties to the side, not bothering to get a lick of clothes off your body correctly. As you’re distracted by the kiss, he slips his tip into you, the poke making you flinch at the contact. Your hands helplessly grip him as he pulls away.
Midoriya looks down between both of you to watch as his cock splits you open, his hands finding the back of your knees and pressing your thighs close to your chest in a mating press. You gasp as you can’t help but suck in a small breath and feel the weight of his cock slip inside you, the position not allowing you to adjust.
“Z-Zuku, wait—!” You pleaded. A winded groan escapes your lips, and you tilt your head against the sofa. “I-I have brunch tomorrow afternoon! I can’t take it like this-”
“Mm, should’ve thought of that before pissing me off.” Midoriya dismisses your sorry excuse to get out of this mess. A mess you started. A mess that you curated. A mess that you caused. He wasn’t having any of it. If you wanted him like this, then he’d play the role.
Despite his words before, he did give you a moment or two before he began thrusting inside of your hungry cunt. His thrusts were heavy and fast, and he wasn’t sparing you the grace of not bottoming out, which he knew you hated. The noises you let out were nothing but obscene. The leather couch squeaked in protest while your moans fought back in an obnoxious match of who could desperately cling to reality. Your pussy is so undoubtedly wet, and your sloppy blowjob from earlier helped with the fact he had no issues to hinder him fucking you silly now.
He watches in glee with hungry eyes as your face rivals a pornstar, and nothing but lust and submission is written all over your face. With each thrust, your chest jiggles at the force, the sight making his cock twitch again. He waits no longer to lean down and take a nipple into his mouth, teeth nipping at the sensitive bud before sucking feverishly. He loves your chest, and the fact that at this pace made them look more delectable. He is generous in leaving other marks on your chest to compliment your clear skin, wanting everyone to know what you made him do. A chuckle tickles your skin as he can’t help but find it funny that your words aren’t coherent anymore.
“Is this what you wanted, hm? To be fucked like a little slut?” Midoriya spits out at you as he straightens to hold your thighs up. He moves to the side of the couch so your lower body rests on the arm of the chair, an angle that makes your body fold from the hold. His heavy thrusts successfully knock the wind out of you, the impact springing, overstimulating tears to your eyes. Your trembling hands were trying hard to keep up by gripping the seat beneath you, but it was useless. Your feeble attempts were no match for him.
Your whimpering at the new angle is all he needed to know that you are enjoying this. It was evident by the way that the tears that rolled down your face were evidence that you were indeed close. He glares down at you as he speaks, “Touch yourself, Y/N.”
You tilt your head up and hum as you almost didn’t hear him. He reaches down to roughly rub your clit to wake you up, the gesture indeed doing the job. You cry out at the feeling and hurriedly reach down to do the work instead, a shiver wracking through you as you follow his command. Your cunt is unbelievably tight around him, and the squeeze makes him dizzy. “Cum, please let me cum, please,” You beg, getting lost in his fucking. There were no thoughts at all in your head. Just dick and knowing you wouldn’t get off easy if you came without asking.
Your fiancé grunts as you start to fumble with your words, bearing witness to you getting fucked so stupid that you had no choice but to fall into what you knew you needed most. Today, although you irked him to no end, Midoriya was feeling gracious and let you release first after feeling his second climax coming around the corner. When you finish, it happens so fast that it was almost painful. Your body shook as you squirted on him and yourself, your body freezing as your walls pulsed around his length, his hips stuttering against yours as he couldn’t help but finish in you. Midoriya leans down to sloppily kiss you as you both come down from your high. It wasn’t long before he was pulling away and flipping you over, hands on your breasts and his chest pressed against your back as his cock was back inside your sensitive cunt. Midoriya was sure that you were fucked dumb at this point, but he, too, was pussy drunk over you as well.
Indeed, a few more rounds could cure his lust.
— ✮ ★ ☆ —
"Y/N!" Your best friend calls out to you when she notices your figure approaching her.
You smile and awkwardly walk over to her, a noticeable limp to your stride as much as you try to hide it. She raises a brow at the display, her eyes trailing your unmistakably disheveled appearance. However, you did look put together all the while.
“You okay, N/N?”
“Y-Yeah! Of course, why?” You rush to answer her question with your own. You and her have a stare-down once she notices you haven’t sat down yet, and you know the act added to her suspicion.
“Why won’t you sit down?” She accuses, brow raised. You nervously laugh it off and forcefully push her shoulder as your rough handling earns a dirty look from her.
“I’m getting there, you know?!” You smile hard, your words with a grit added to your speech from your teeth being clenched together. Still, the awkward eye contact continues as you try to hide the wince as you sit in front of her. Suddenly, her eyes and face lit up like a bulb had gone off.
“No fuckin’ way-!”
“Watch your freaking mouth,” You mumble as people start to look over, and you try to cover up your skin that exposes your neck.
“I’m going to take a wild guess that the reason you didn’t respond to me till this morning, didn’t join the group call, now wearing suspiciously warm clothes for the hot weather and walking weirdly is because of him?” She leans on the table to get a closer look at you with a shit-eating grin as if she already knew the answer.
“... yes.” You also break out into a stupid grin, you two giggling like madmen as she slaps your arm at the admission.
“So the plan worked?! You got to tell me everything!”
As you catch your friend up on everything, you can’t help but feel bad for egging Midoriya on for as long as you did… but it was all worth it. At first, the idea to annoy him was simply a dare. Still, soon enough, it became a plan to see another side of your fiancé you realize you had never seen before.
After the many rounds yesterday, you did find out and learn your lesson, though. Before you fell asleep for the night, you did apologize to him for being a brat, and you two fell asleep to a movie after having a much-needed takeout meal that rivaled a mukbang from your activities.
One thing was for sure, though: your state of the aftermath was a great way to remind yourself not to annoy him as much as you had prior.
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miserableworm · 4 months
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Hiiii !! Would it be alright to ask for a lyney x reader where he comforts you when you’re sick/period? Thank you <33
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★ a/n - thank you sm for the request <3 getting taken care of when not feeling well gotta be one of the best feelings ever so this was pretty fun to write
★ sypnosis - Lyney had a show come up, but your period had other plans for the evening.
★ tags - Lyney x fem!reader, comfort, fluff, period (no mentions of blood), cramps
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"I can't go to your magic show tonight," you whisper, feeling a pang of guilt. The discomfort from your period cramps is almost unbearable, and the idea of sitting through a performance seems impossible.
Lyney, who had been adjusting his magician's hat, turns to you with a concerned look. "Oh? And why is that?" he asks gently, though you can see a teasing glint in his eyes.
You take a deep breath, trying to muster the courage to tell him. "It's just... I'm not feeling well. My period started, and the cramps are really bad."
Lyney's expression softens even more. "Ah, I see," he says, nodding knowingly. "Lynette has those too sometimes. Say no more." Then, with a mischievous grin, he adds, "Though I must admit, I thought you might be avoiding my grand finale. It is quite dazzling, you know."
You manage a weak smile and rolled your eyes at him. "As if I'd ever miss one of your shows by choice."
He steps closer, his eyes filled with a mix of concern and amusement. "Let me take care of you," he says softly. "The magic show can wait."
"Lyney, you can't just miss your show because of me," you protest. "People are expecting you. They'll be disappointed."
Lyney waves a hand dismissively. "Nonsense. The show will go on without me. My assistants are more than capable. Besides, what's more important right now is making sure you're comfortable."
"But Lyney-"
"No buts!"
Before you can protest further, he's already in motion. Lyney heads to the kitchen and returns with a hot water bottle. "This should help with the cramps," he explains, placing it gently on your stomach. The warmth spreads, bringing a measure of relief almost immediately.
"Thank you.." you murmur, touched by his thoughtfulness.
Lyney isn't done yet. He disappears for a moment, then comes back with a small box. "Here," he says, handing it to you. Inside are your favorite snacks and some herbal tea. "I always keep these things ready, just in case," he adds with a wink. "Lynette taught me well."
You can't help but smile, feeling a bit of the heaviness lift. "You really didn't have to go through all this trouble."
"Of course, I did," Lyney replies, sitting beside you. "You're important to me. Besides, magic isn't just about tricks and illusions. It's about making people feel better, making them smile. If I can do that off stage as well, then I'm happy."
"You're so cheesy."
As you sip the tea, Lyney begins to tell you stories about his adventures and mishaps with Lynette. His voice is soothing, and soon you're laughing despite the discomfort.
"But really, Lyney," you say, interrupting his tale about a mishap with disappearing doves, "you should go. The audience will miss you. They'll be wondering where their favorite magician is."
Lyney raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk on his lips. "Are you trying to get rid of me, Y/N? Because if you are, it's not working. I can be quite stubborn when I want to be."
You chuckle, shaking your head. "No, I just don't want you to get in trouble or disappoint your fans."
"Trust me," he says, leaning in closer, "the only person I care about disappointing right now is you. And I know you need me more than they do at this moment."
Before you can argue further, he pulls out a deck of cards and begins performing a series of close-up magic tricks right there. His fingers move with mesmerizing skill, each trick more astonishing than the last. For a while, you're completely absorbed, forgetting about the cramps entirely.
Seeing your smile, Lyney gets up and performs another trick. This time, he makes a coin appear from behind your ear and then disappear in a flash of light. As you clap softly, he bows dramatically.
"And for my next act," he says, reaching into his pocket for another prop. But when he looks up, he sees your eyes closed, your breathing even and peaceful.
He chuckles softly, shaking his head. "Was I that boring?" he murmurs playfully.
Quietly, he tucks the blanket more snugly around you and stands up, careful not to wake you. Stepping closer, he gently places a kiss on your forehead.
"Sweet dreams, Y/N. "
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requests are open <3
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syeren · 10 months
Text
“How they would comfort you” — JJK MEN HEADCANNONS.
GENRE: Fluff, mix of comedic comfort, overall comforting auras <3
________
GOJO
gojo is so unserious please
if we’re talking about teenage!gojo, good luck.
atp you gotta help yourself with your own comfort because HE would do anything and everything to make you one of two things:
angry or trying to be angry at him but end up laughing
“Please?”
“No.”
“C’mooon—“
“I said no.”
Gojo lets out a huff in annoyance, mimicking the same movement as a child as he juts out his lower lip. “You’re no fun.”
You gave him a look, a look of pure disbelief and awe as your own boyfriend was throwing a tantrum. During your shift at work, it was obviously not the best. With customers blazing in with drink orders that stacked to the bottom of the sticker, spill-mishaps, and that bitchy manager of yours… You opted to vent to Gojo in hopes to ease your mind. Well… You had hope, atleast.
“I’m literally having the shittiest day and you—“
He cut you off, widening his eyes largely while staring into the depths of your soul. You had stopped talking as you also stared him down, not wanting to back off from the silent fight of eye contact. Copying him, you too enlarged your eyes with tears threatening to prick themselves close.
“What are you doing?” You asked him, still holding the eye contact. Without blinking, Gojo responded back in a monotonous manner.
“Looking.”
“For what?”
“I dunno.”
“You’re hopeless.”
The fight continued on, seconds passing as both of your eyes reddened from the lack of moisture. The air felt chillier, and any gust of air that passed both of your pupils would be deadly to this competition. You swore silently you wouldn’t lose this battle, and intensified your gaze with your eyebrows furrowed. Upon doing that, however, the sight of Gojo’s unblinking eyes and silent tears rolling down his cheeks was definitely a sight to see. You stifled a laugh, not wanting to ruin your opportunity to win until you let it out. Your shoulders shook as you giggled loudly within the bedroom, wiping the tears away as Gojo returned the same enthusiasm.
“W-Why the… Just why?” You asked, still heavily confused about the whole eye contact competition, but finding it ultimately amusing. You calmed yourself down, letting out the occasional breathless chuckle.
“I would rather you let out happy tears than sad ones. So, turns out I won anyway.”
“Fuck you.”
________
NANAMI
the BEST comforter, hands down
tbh i’ll say this honestly rn,,, i wasn’t a big nanami fan previously but even i would tell this man would be sooooo great at making you feel better
puts YOU firsthand, no objections
if you end up objecting tho, then he will take matters into his own hands
“I can take care of myself, y’know?” you stated firmly, trying to push off Nanami’s strong grasp around your arms. The man in question simply heard you cough once, and deemed it as a sign of you getting sick.
He let out a gruff sigh, not responding to you with words but through his actions, hoisting you up easily by your thighs and carrying you to his king-sized bed.
“One cough and you think this is the end of the world!”
“That one cough can end up making you think that the world is ending for you,” he retorted back, placing his hands on his hips as he finally situated you onto his bed; the plush duvet covers instantly swallowing you whole.
“You always think you can handle yourself,” he continued, pulling the duvet covers up and gently lifting your head from the pillow, fluffing it up a bit before placing you back down. “If you really want to try and take care of yourself, I will not dismiss that… However…”
He crouched down beside the bed, balancing on his haunches as he smiled softly at your tired expression.
“… At least let me aid you a tiny bit, love.”
________
MEGUMI
this hoe istg
hoe in a loving way by the way, pls don’t track me down
BUT! since this boy is SO nonchalant and passive, however he has that certain side to him that makes him so welcoming and warm. it’s charming, to say the least.
it’s like he knows you and your quirks so well that you didn’t even notice them at first
You and Megumi were walking hand in hand down the busy street of Tokyo, Harajuku, in hopes of finding the cute café you were eyeing a couple weeks back. You were astounded, of course, but Megumi was getting a little antsy of not being able to locate the café you had your sights upon.
“We’ve been walking for ages,” he sighed, matching his pace beside you through the busy streets. You gave him a look before flipping your attention back to the map on your phone, staring hard at the complicated details provided.
“No wait— Ahh! Maybe we take a left over here?” you said, turning abruptly which caused Megumi to be swallowed by the crowd. You whiplashed your head to the side to locate him, but to no avail, he was gone from your side.
A slight rise of anxiety started to bubble up in your chest until warm, slender fingers laced around your own. Peering up, you saw your boyfriend instantly by your side once more, leading you through the crowd wordlessly. Never once did he loosen his grip, it was firm and gentle. A tiny squeeze of his hand alerted you to look at him again, to which a little smile was plastered on his face.
“Hurry up. I found the café you were trying to find.”
You didn’t notice the same café’s address was in his phone’s search bar, though.
________
YUJI
LORDDDDDDD
golden retriever boyfriend right here
so undeniably understanding and prioritizing to your needs, no wonder he looks up to nanami a lot
i feel like he’d be the type of boyfriend who would go through a spontaneous, yet step-by-step routine to pamper you
You were over at Yuji’s house, unwinding and relaxing while playing on his PC. Well, trying to unwind and relax, but the stupid game you wanted to try out wasn’t going so well.
“Fuck!” you screamed out, running your fingers through your hair and tugging at your scalp. “I got the same character pull again!”
Yuji peeked over at the screen, apparently this game had a gacha system implemented in it. Certain number of pulls have a higher chance of a guaranteed character, but you weren’t so lucky.
“There’s no hope…” You groaned out, slumping back in your chair as Yuji inches closer to the screen. He eyes the character displayed on it, annoyingly mocking your very state.
“Can I try?” he asks with a wide, toothy smile.
You huffed out a sigh, glancing over back to the screen briefly before back at him. “I only have like… One pull left, but knock yourself out.”
He excitedly moves his body closer, instantly clicking on the character banner you were trying to get and watched the pretty hues of blues and yellows swirl around. Tiny sparkles littered the blackened screen, before—
“Is this a good character?”
Huh? You adjusted your torso once more and sat up to look at the screen to see the desired game character you’ve been wanting to get. This entire time, now gotten from the lucky hands of Yuji.
“Huh?!” you exclaimed loudly, eyes wide at the sight before you. There was no way that he pulled the character you were ogling over— One you spent your hard earned in-game currency on as well as losing every single time.
“I’m guessing he’s good! Judging that reaction of yours—“
“Fuck off,” you said with a distasteful tone, but a wide smile playing on your lips.
________
an; so basic but so cute 🫶
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