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cravetive · 7 months

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𝗖𝗢𝗡𝗙𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗗

✩｡ Pairings: Neighbor!Jungkook x Fem!reader

✩｡ Synopsis: Y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

✩｡Warnings: Smut! cussing, mentions of masturbation, spanking, doggy style, sex in a public place, unprotected sex (sigh), teasing, creampie, rough sex, pinning, sex toys, sweat and other bodily fluids, a bit of exhibitionism i guess (elevators have cameras), sexual frustration, consensual sex, if you're reading this for the plot don't, there is no plot.

✩｡ Authors Note: lord give me one chance, one chance is all i need.

✩｡ Word Count: 5.k

“Are you using it right now?”

“Yes, it’s a bit uncomfortable, to be honest.”

“Omg! Are you in public?!”

“I just made a quick run to the convenience store for a few snacks.”

“Oh, you’re brave” Mina, Y/n’s friend spoke through the phone that was pressed between her ear and shoulder. Y/n sighed, grabbing a bottle of water and making her way to the front of the store. “it’s in low mode anyways, it just feels like I’m riding the bus on an unpaved street” Y/n laughed whilst placing her items onto the counter for the cashier to scan.

“I've never had anyone try it out in public, this is exciting!” Y/n rolled her eyes and scanned her card, grabbing her receipt and bag before stepping out of the convenience store and into the scorching sun of July.

“Relax I’ll be home in like 3 seconds” Y/n huffed, wiping some of the sweat beaming on her forehead. Having been locked in her air-conditioned apartment for the last 2 days had caused her to forget the heat wave that had taken over the city in the last week and it didn’t matter that she was wearing her shortest summer dress because she felt like she was boiling alive.

“Okay, just remember you can change the motions and speed on the app, but I would recommend you start off slow so that you can adjust” Mina spoke urgently on the phone, but Y/n could only focus on her apartment building as it came into view, her flip flops dragging against the pavement as she took hurried steps. “Yes, yes just know that you owe me big time!” Y/n yelled into the phone.

Y/n wasn’t experimental in any aspect of her life, she liked what she liked, and she knew what she didn’t. Her life was simple, boring as Mina would describe it, but she preferred it that way, it had worked out for her, and she didn’t see the need to stray from it. which had only made her that much more apprehensive when Mina came to her with the proposition of testing out one of the new sex toys her company was developing.

Y/n didn’t like the idea at all, and she had even readied herself to decline but upon noticing the desperation in Mina’s eyes that late afternoon she just couldn’t bring herself to say no. Y/n first-handedly witnessed how hard Mina had worked on this project and she couldn’t be the reason behind its failure which had led her to reluctantly accept. It had only taken 4 days for the package to be delivered to her front door, the small box containing the pink bullet vibrator Mina had designed which was now nestled between her legs.

“I will kiss the ground you walk on after this!” Mina promised on the other end of the call which caused Y/n to laugh as she stepped into her building. her feet shuffled as she leaned forward to tap on the elevator button and She subconsciously pressed her legs together as she stood waiting for the doors to open, the low vibrations from the toy leaving her a bit out of breath.

“Alright, I’ll call you back later on” Y/n huffed which caused Mina to giggle on the other end.

“Hot and bothered already?” Mina joked which caused Y/n’s already flushed cheeks to deepen in color.

“Shut up, it’s the heat” Y/n yelled as she watched the elevator doors open.

“sureeeee” Mina teased which led Y/n to end the call without further explanation.

She stepped into the small space and pressed the button to her floor before standing all the way back into the corner, her back pressed into the mirrored wall behind her. Y/n bit her bottom lip as she watched the elevator doors close slowly. she didn’t understand the buzz behind these sex toys or this market, the bullet wasn’t even doing anything to stimulate her and if she was honest, the vibration alone was starting to irritate her.

Y/n was sure her hand could do a better job.

“Hold it!” a voice shouted which caused Y/n to snap out of her frustrated trance, she reached forward and stopped the doors from shutting. The voice’s owner rushed inside, and Y/n took in his flustered appearance as he turned back to thank her. She recognized him as the man who lived 2 doors away from her and was notoriously known for his loud parties and for the woman who came and went from his apartment. It had been more than a few times she had found herself knocking on his door at 3 am due to the loud music.

And if it wasn’t for the fact that the guy was easy on the eyes she probably would’ve already complained to management.

His name is Chun-woo? Jungkook? Something like that she thought.

Y/n offered him a small and awkward smile before pressing herself against the wall once again. She rarely ever interacted with any of the residents in the building and today would not be the exception. She was already hot and sweaty and all she wanted to do was to get to her cool air-conditioned apartment and binge on her delicious snacks.

“It’s really hot outside” the man commented, tapping on the button that Y/n had already pressed earlier. She dragged her eyes over to his back and hummed, nodding her head in agreement.

“you’re from apartment 902 right?” He glanced back at her, and she noticed the piercing that wrapped around the end of his bottom lip, she had never stood as close to him to notice it before and for some reason it only made him appear that much more handsome.

“Yeah” she smiled, squirming in the small space in which she stood.

Within the silence that soon overtook the small elevator, she could hear the way the man struggled to catch his breath, having fallen victim to the heat wave outside. His long black hair had stuck to the dampened skin of his forehead and his broad shoulders rose and fell as the elevator began to ascend.

Y/n tried to focus her eyes on the floor beneath her and not on the man who stood there with his back now turned to her but ever so often she would find herself staring at the white loose fitted t-shirt he wore, drenched with his sweat. She also tried to stop herself from biting down on her bottom lip while she noticed the muscles that pressed from the thin material around his shoulders while subconsciously rubbing her legs together.

It was rude to stare, she knew that, but the elevator was so crammed there were only so many alternative places she could look, and he was so tall, so broad and his tattooed arm called for her attention, the intricate colors and patterns leaving her in a trance…she blinked quickly, her cheeks turning crimson from the thoughts flooding through her mind.

She opted to stare at the ceiling instead, noticing the way the bright lights would flicker subtly as the elevator continued to climb levels, and then suddenly there came a pulsation from between her legs, one that was probably already there but she hadn’t been able to notice before. Her eyes widened in horror as her mind registered the cause and her hand reached for her phone in urgency as the small vibrations from the small toy caused a faint sound inside the compact space.

“Do you hear that?” Jungkook spoke, turning to look at a very disheveled Y/n, she looked back to him in pure embarrassment, her fingers frantically searching for the app her best friend had downloaded onto her phone.

“Mhm? Ah No, I think it’s the elevator” she giggled nervously and Jungkook nodded, biting down on his lip and turning to face the elevator doors once again.

Y/n had forgotten all about the small object that lowly vibrated inside of her, which was now causing her clit to pulsate painfully under her black thong. Her hands shook as she pressed on the pink icon shining through her screen, and her eyes scanned the app quickly trying to find the off button on the small evil little thing stuck inside her pussy.

“fuck” she breathed as sweat beads began to form on her skin.

The panic running through her body didn’t allow her to focus on the small words in front of her, no matter how hard she squinted. Her fingers continued to urgently press against random buttons, trying to shut off the damn thing but all she had accomplished was for it to change motions, going from a light vibration to full-on pumping. She covered her mouth in shock at the new movement and gripped the handrailing on her side for support.

“how the fuck- “she groaned.

“What was that?” Jungkook asked, looking at her through the reflection on the doors and for a moment she loathed how attentive this man was.

Y/n could only shake her head, her hand trembling against her phone while she tried to overpower the sensation taking over her body.

She had underestimated the damn thing, thinking all would be good if she kept it at a low tempo, who even goes to the store with a sex toy in their pussy? She cursed herself for the irrational idea.

She stared at the screen in concentration, soon finding the pulse button and beginning to tap on it frantically but the thing wouldn’t budge and soon she felt the speed increase. Her mouth widened in horror; her eyes fluttered closed as the vibrations rocked through her body in waves and soon her breaths became extremely uneven. She hoped and prayed her neighbor wouldn’t notice but Jungkook watched from the distorted reflection in front of him at how much she struggled to stay still.

She was sure the universe hated her, she must have been paying for some karmic event she had forgotten about because there was no way in hell this was happening to her.

Suddenly almost as if in coordination, the elevator began to tremble underneath her feet and then her eyes opened wide, was this a figment of her imagination? Was this a silly joke being played on her by the gods? Was this punishment for experimenting with her sex life?

The elevator shook uncontrollably causing Y/n to lose grip of the railing, she fell onto the floor with a loud thud, her bag of snacks ripping open and spilling its contents on the floor. The lights above her flickered on and off and then everything stopped.

Her heart, the rocking of the floor, her brain, and even the elevator came to an abrupt halt but not the vibrations between her legs, it was the only thing that remained as her body squirmed on the floor from the pulsations erupting from her clit.

“What the fuck” Jungkook muttered as he held onto one of the railings, his arms strained with veins running under the skin as he was too shaken by the sudden tremble.

“Did we just have an earthquake?” he exclaimed while his eyes trailed to the spot where Y/n once stood but she was no longer there and then his eyes trailed down, where he found Y/n thrown across the floor along with her snacks. Jungkook let go of the railing and reached for her limp body in an attempt to help her.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, taking a step towards her but Y/n squirmed, backing into the wall behind her.

“Hey, relax” he spoke, his voice but a whisper as he grabbed onto her arm and lifted her off from the floor. She whimpered as he brought her back onto her feet, her hands holding onto his forearms for support.

“I think we’re stuck” he concluded, unable to feel the motion of the elevator beneath his feet. Y/n didn’t say a word, afraid that her attempts at speaking would demonstrate the utter pleasure she was in, and she was mortified. Jungkook noticed the way she slightly trembled underneath his touch, her eyes looking up at his in fear and then an urgency to calm her came over him.

“don’t worry, we can just call someone to help us” he removed his eyes from the agitated woman and scanned the panel at the side of the door, reaching to tap on the red button at the very end. Y/n could only focus on 2 things, the wetness that soon pooled through the thin fabric of her panties and the feeling of his hand on her arm.

His hands were big and soft, and she could feel the small callouses on his palm pressing against her skin. She had to get out of this situation and quickly, she could feel the pressure building in her gut and it was familiar to the one she always got when pleasuring herself during late nights.

She was going to come.

She should’ve been focused on the elevator, on trying to get out of the cramped space, and not on coming undone in front of her neighbor from 2 doors down while he held her. She pushed aside her current desires and removed her eyes from Jungkook's hand on her arm. She carefully scanned the floor for her cell phone and once in her view, she bent down to collect it, her hand fumbling with the device as she picked it up from the floor.

When she turned it over, her heart plummeted. The screen had cracked completely, a few pieces of glass missing, and the screen blinked in different colors in front of her. at that very moment, she wished the elevator would plummet down to her death, she gasped for air as the realization hit her that the only other option she had was to remove the little bullet herself, but she couldn’t, she wouldn’t.

What would her neighbor think? She would have to move from the building entirely to escape from the humiliation alone. What would she even say? oh, hey yeah hold on a minute let me remove my SEX TOY from my vagina…she was mortified.

Her attention was drawn back to the elevator in which she stood as a voice appeared from within the small speaker inside the panel and her heart skipped a beat at the sudden relief that someone would come to help her leave this hellish predicament.

“Sun tower, how can we help you?”

“Uh yea, listen we’re stuck in the elevator” Jungkook spoke his hand reaching to wipe away some of the sweat forming on his face.

“Oh yes sir, sorry about that the building has lost power due to the heat but no worries we are working on the issue, and the elevator should be up and running in no time” Y/n groaned in frustration, deciding it would be best to move away from Jungkook’s touch entirely and found her place back to the corner of the elevator.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Jungkook sighed, growing frustrated with the entire situation.

“Mhmm, it should take about an hour” the person informed. Y/n jolted in surprise, An hour!? Y/n wouldn’t be able to hold off for an hour. Her legs were trembling, and her heart was beating abnormally fast against her chest. She knew her body and she had a good 5 minutes at best. She ran to the speaker, attempting to focus on controlling her body as she screamed into it in desperation.

“No sir” she moaned, her teeth coming down to bite down harshly on her lips as she attempted to contain herself “You don’t understand I need to get out of here!” her hands held onto the elevator panel for dear life, and she was almost at the verge of tears. “Sorry ma’am we are doing everything we can” Her breaths were uneven as she retracted from the wall, her hands falling by her sides in defeat.

Jungkook noticed the way she struggled to breathe, her chest heaving as she attempted to bring oxygen to her lungs and his eyes squinted in suspicion.

“Hey, are you okay” he asked again, taking a few steps towards her but Y/n raised her hands, her stare darkened and blurred. “Please just stay on that side” she panted, her legs pressing together once again as she battled with another moan that sat on her tongue.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jungkook asked and oh how Y/n wished that was the reason her body convulsed in the way it did now, her extremities shaking at the feeling of the sex toy vibrating inside of her.

“I-i” she whimpered, attempting to form words but her brain was too consumed by the pumping between her legs, her hands reaching to force her hips from buckling at the feeling. She promised herself she would never speak to Mina again, this was all her fault, she didn’t even want to do this and now she was masturbating in front of this complete stranger. She leaned over and her mouth fell wide open, a loud yelp falling from within.

“woah” Jungkook rushed to her side, his hands reaching to give her support but that only caused her to shiver, the stimulation of both the toy and the man holding her throwing her into complete disarray.

“What is that buzzing sound?” Jungkook asked again, his eyes falling on the floor in an attempt to find the source, but he was met with bags of chips and bottles of water. He focused his hearing on the sound, it was faint, but it was there, and it was driving him crazy. He followed the sound and once his eyes reached the exposed skin of Y/n legs, he looked up into her eyes in surprise.

She looked back at him in embarrassment, her face reddened in shame as sweat trickled down her forehead. She didn’t have the energy to pretend anymore or to try to explain how she wasn’t a sex addict of some sort, she could no longer control what was happening, deciding that she was no match against the orgasm that would soon rock through her.

“Are you? - “his eyes looked into hers and a moan escaped her lips in response. His body tensed at the realization, but he couldn’t take his eyes off hers, entranced by the way she trembled underneath his hands. “Is that?” he gulped looking back down to her shaking legs.

“ah fuck” Y/n moaned, burying her face into his chest, the action causing Jungkook’s heart to leap out of its position. he should’ve been focusing on the predicament they were in, how it would take an hour for the apartment to get them out of there, how hot it had gotten in the cramped space, but he could only think about the girl who was coming undone in his arms, soft pants and moans erupting from her lips into his chest.

“My phone” she whimpered “Ah my phone is broken” She gripped his arms trying to regain control of her body but it was no use, she had been pushed past her limit and she could feel her arousal drip from between her legs.

Jungkook couldn’t ignore the way her whimpers caused goosebumps on his skin, the way her soft moans called upon his member to rise and press against the fabric of his underwear. It was wrong and he knew it, she was vulnerable and unraveling in front of him, but he couldn’t fight it, he was salivating at the thought of what her pussy would look like underneath the skirt of her dress, he imagined it glistening with her juices as the toy moved inside of her and his dick quivered underneath the constraints of his clothes.

“Can I-? “He whispered his half-lidded eyes glancing into hers with lust and desperation.

“Can I help you?” Jungkook gulped, his body tensing at the question. He wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed him back and screamed at him, in under different circumstances he probably wouldn’t have been so upfront, but they had an hour to kill and it almost pained him to see her like this, the toy not being able to assist her in the way he knew he could.

It took a moment too long for Y/n to realize what he was asking, it was not like she was even in the right state of mind to think over anything at that moment yet, she nodded her head miserably, her eyes shutting as another wave of pleasure ran through her body whilst she permitted him to assist her.

“Shhh don’t worry, I’ll take care of you” Jungkook whispered into her ear which lured a moan out of her lips.

He moved in front of her, and his eager mouth found hers, their lips melting as they slid against each other, Jungkook felt the warmth of her skin as she pressed her body into his and his hands snaked along the fabric of her short dress. She was so complaint, so willing and it was driving him over the edge. He responded by pressing his body against hers and she soon felt Jungkook’s prominent boner against her lower belly.

She wondered how long he had been that hard, how long was he pondering if he could fuck her…Y/n wasn’t like this, she didn’t think about these things, and she also wasn’t often so eager to fuck a stranger in the elevator. She couldn’t control herself; she needed relief, and she needed it fast.

“mm gonna take it out” Jungkook dragged his lips away from hers with a hum and trailed his fingers down to the hem of her dress. Y/n whimpered as he teased her, his fingers hovering over the skin of her thighs which were tightly pressed together in an attempt to stop her wetness from dripping down her legs.

“Is that okay?” Jungkook whispered, staring back into her eyes with hunger and she was sure that look alone was going to have her spazzing in a short moment.

He guided his hand past her thighs, his fingers brushing by the hem of her panties and hooking his fingers along them, Y/n threw her head back in pleasure at the intrusion, her legs shaking beneath her as he played with the lace material that was between his digits.

“p-please” she begged, her body trembling from the mere anticipation.

Jungkook smirked at the sight before him, he loved the control he had, loved the fact that she needed him. he unhooked his fingers and dipped his hand inside her panties, turning it over so that his palm was now facing her sensitive clit and applied just enough pressure to make her squirm.

“Fuck, you’re wet” Jungkook hissed, his lips finding shelter on the exposed skin of her neck.

“p-please” Y/n whimpered, unable to repress the longing from between her legs.

Jungkook dipped his hand down further, finding the toy embedded between her warm walls, and groaned at the feeling of her juices coating his fingers as he slowly extracted the toy from its rightful home. The pink little object vibrated against his hand, and he chuckled lowly at the feeling, Y/n sighed in relief, perhaps thinking that was the end of her torment.

Her pussy pulsated sorely, her mind clouded by the impending climax that pressed down on her gut and she needed it, she needed it badly. She pulled Jungkook closer and crashed her mouth into his with eagerness. She would often hear the screams of pleasure that poured out of Jungkook’s apartment when she walked past his door and right now, she needed him to help her in the same way.

Y/n reached for the strings of his sweatpants and quickly undid the knot there, pulling them down from his waist and then dipping her hand into his underwear where she found his rock-hard cock, painfully quivering against the material. Jungkook groaned into her mouth, his body lurching forward at the sensation of her warm hand stroking him under his Calvin Kleins.

“fuck” he muttered as he pulled away from her kiss, his eyes fluttering close.

“I want to fuck you so bad” he groaned, his hands reaching to caress her breasts through the fabric of her dress.

“Then fuck me” Y/n moaned, and it didn’t take more than a second for Jungkook to turn her around and press her against the mirror of the elevator, his hands moving quickly to pull down her black thong and throwing it across the floor. He parted her legs and Y/n watched from the reflection as he licked his lips in admiration.

She didn’t know what she had gotten herself into and she sure as hell wasn’t prepared but she didn’t care, she needed his cock inside of her walls and that’s all she could think about.

Jungkook pushed down his underwear, exposing his cock as he gave it a few more pumps before aligning himself to her welcoming pussy. He watched her arousal drip from her core, and he whimpered at the sight. it was all that he had expected and more, he slowly dragged the tip of his cock against her wet folds which caused Y/n to yelp, her hands reaching to grip the handrails for support.

They moaned in unison as he entered her walls, her legs bucking as he began to move himself inside of her. Jungkook moved slowly, patiently waiting for her to adjust to his length but the feeling of her walls gripping him tightly like his dick was meant to be there was urging him to lose control and it didn’t help that he had a full view of her ass while his dick retracted from her pussy ever so slightly.

“f-fuck me harder” she moaned, and Y/n was sure she had never used those words before, but it was all the instructions Jungkook needed to pick up his pace. He began to thrust roughly inside of her, his hands coming down to hold her hips in place, keeping her from moving away as he pounded into her. Y/n leaned her head against the mirror, her mouth wide open as whimpers and moans fell from it.

The small elevator was soon filled with the symphony of moans and skin clashing together, Y/n could feel a burning sensation building as Jungkook kept his tempo, his black locks hanging over his face as he continued to ram into her. his hand came down quickly against her ass cheek, leaving a red imprint there and Y/n screamed in excitement.

“look how good you’re taking it” Jungkook moaned as he watched his wet cock retract and enter into her pussy over and over again. he reached underneath where their bodies remained interlinked and pressed the vibrating bullet that was still in his hand against her clit. Y/n yelped; her eyes fluttering shut at the sudden action.

“Come on, be a good girl, you know you can take it” he hummed his eyes taking in the way he was completely destroying her. He removed his other hand from her hip and reached to grab her arms, pulling them behind her back and pinning them tightly together on her lower back. Y/n shrieked in pleasure, sweat dripping down the sides of her face.

Jungkook moved his hips skillfully as he fucked into her, his eyes remaining on the view of her ass trembling as his cock glistened with her juices. It was beautiful and it only made his cock pulse with anticipation. He bit down on his lip as groans poured from his chest. never in a million years did he ever think he would be fucking his neighbor but never in a million years did he ever want to stop.

Y/n felt her clit vibrate against the toy, the nerves there buzzing with enjoyment. Her arousal dripped from between her legs onto the silicone material and down Jungkook’s hand, but he kept it pressed there while he hammered into her. She didn’t know if she liked it rough but whatever it was, he was doing, she wanted him to keep going.

“Come for me baby” he moaned, licking his lips as if he was tasting her juices in his mouth. “I know how badly you want to come” his hand came down harshly against her ass cheek again and Y/n responded with a yelp. Y/n was bent over, her tits flowing past her dress and her hair a mess, but she could only focus on the feeling of Jungkook’s balls slapping against her clit, the bullet that worked hard to keep up with Jungkook’s thrusts, and the way this man was fucking her into oblivion.

It felt good, fuck that, it felt amazing.

Jungkook plunged into her pussy with such need, with such desire that she was sure he was close to his climax as well. Y/n’s walls clenched around his cock, urging him to come undone inside of her and Jungkook groaned loudly, his hips beginning to move with a mind of their own as he searched for his own relief.

“Ah'm gonna come” Y/n yelled, her legs giving out from under her as they began to tremble, but Jungkook held her, and gave her the support she needed. He pressed her against the mirror and continued his pace, his eyes trailing to the reflection in front of them.

“Look at us baby, look how good you look while I fuck into you” he whispered into Y/n’s ear, his eyes falling on her hooded eyes and reddened cheeks. Her walls were tight and warm, and he knew he wouldn’t last long, his hand fell on her hip once more, gripping it there while he continued to drive into her quickly. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes from his strained arms, the way his veins stuck out from underneath the skin as he gave her his all, it was almost poetic and that’s all it took for her to reach the peak, her body shuddering against the wall and Jungkook’s chest. Y/n couldn’t hear anything, her eyes falling tightly shut as her orgasm rippled through her body. Her senses were completely gone as she tried to control herself and then there was a sudden warmness dripping from her core, it dripped down her legs and onto the floor.

“Fuck, you squirted baby” Jungkook groaned, his hips buckled and with one last hard thrust, he came into her quenched walls. He let out a trail of curse words Y/n couldn’t make out, too stuck on the way she had unraveled.

She had never felt something so euphoric, and she felt guilty about it.

Jungkook removed the toy that had remained pressed against her clit and threw it on the floor beside them. the bullet buzzed and jolted on the floor before turning off. Y/n blinked her eyes open and stared at the floor in shock, the little fucking thing had finally given out after tormenting her for so long, but she was too high off her orgasm, unable to find any other emotion but relief.

She turned over and looked up at Jungkook, his face was flushed just like hers and sweat dripped from his forehead as he adjusted his dick back in his sweats, a small smirk appearing on his face once he glanced back at her. He reached down to grab her thong and assisted her with slipping it back up her legs, his stare remaining on her. He took in how her chest rose and fell with each harsh breath she took. His fingers glided upward against the sides of her legs as he brought her panties back, his hands landing on the sides of her hips before grabbing the hem of her dress and sliding the fabric down to its rightful place.

Y/n was beyond embarrassed and sore, she didn’t know what to say to the man who had just fucked her literally senseless. Thank You? no that was fucking ridiculous. She reached for her bottle of water and extended her arm out to Jungkook, offering him some refreshment, it was the best she could do given the circumstances.

“Here, drink some” she smiled while Jungkook reached for the bottle, removing the cap and bringing it to his lips, taking a large gulp.

“don’t use those stupid toys anymore, next time just knock on my door” Jungkook muttered, passing her the bottle. Y/n nodded biting down on her lip before taking a drink herself.

“Hello! Is everyone okay? we are coming in to get you out” a voice yelled from outside the elevator doors. They both giggled at each other before innocently standing side by side waiting to be freed from the confined space.

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xjulixred45x · 8 months

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I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

#headcanons #drabbles #fem reader #neutral reader #male reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hotel hazbin #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox x reader #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor

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that-fic-girl · 8 months

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HAZBIN HOTEL X READER HC #1

Head canon: what it would be like to date them.

characters: Alastor, angel dust, husk, vox

disclaimer: everything i write about these characters might not be accurate to the actual story, please take everything in the fic with a grain of salt, none of this is canon!!

Alastor

he hasnt been in an actual relationship in a while so being close and vulnerable with someone is quite hard for him, especially as someone who associates emotions with weakness.

First off, its safe to say he adores the ground you walk on. He's in love with everything about you, your clothes, the smell of your hair, your sickly sweet voice. his loves it all.

If there was ever a problem you needed fixing, a person you needed taken care of or even a errand you needed to run he would tend to it himself. he would not let you lift a finger.

PDA is a iffy thing for him, he wouldnt do grand big gestures but maybe a hand on the hip or a few words of affirmation.

everyone in the pride ring quickly learned of yours and radio demon's relationship. And no one dared to mess with you, ofcourse there was people who wanted to test their luck but they would have to pay the price later.

his love language is definitely words of affirmation, he will sweet talk the shit out of you. At night when it's just you two in bed, he will have his hands stroking through your hair whilst you rant to him about your day and he'll reply with sweet nothings

"oh darling, i've missed you all evening"

"you looked ravishing today my dear.."

"mm your hair smells amazing, my love"

Angel Dust

Angel is one of, if not, the horniest mother fuckers out there but somehow, he manages to somewhat make a healthy relationship with someone.

you two are seen as "the bad bitch" couple. you're always out together, always getting into dumb shit together. You'll get yelled at by vaggie at early hours in the morning because the two of you where playing a childish game of tag in the hotel halls.

his love language is definitely physical touch, he'll have his arms slung around your waist almost all the time. Kisses are a MUST every 5 minutes, like this boy will NOT part from you. especially in the mornings when you have to leave for work;

"mmnnnnoooooooo...stayyy for five minutes pleasseeeee"

"but sweets..you're soooo warm"

"sweetheart please, you feel so comfy"

yeah good luck with that.

nights with him are VERY eventful, if it wasn't obvious. You two would usually be at it late hours into the night but sometimes, when you two where too exhausted to fuck like rabbits, he would be sprawled across your lap whilst you stroked his fur.

Husk

Despite his harsh tone and uncompromising demeanor, you understood that Husk wasn't trying to be malicious towards you. It was simply his way of communicating, and you knew that his behavior wasn't personal. Even though he could be abrasive at times, you loved him for his rough edges and authentic personality

You and Husk's time together was mostly spent at the bar. You didn't like to drink much, but you loved seeing him work and make cocktails like a pro. You didn't mind that it wasn't considered a typical date, because you liked spending time with him in whatever way he felt most comfortable.

Husk is not used to receiving compliments, as he didn't often receive them in his past life. When you complimented him, it caught him off guard and he was surprised. But he eventually learned to appreciate it, and it even made him feel a little sentimental.

Despite the difficulty, you were able to help Husk realize that you genuinely cared about him. He had been used to being surrounded by dishonesty and hypocrisy, but you were always sincere and real. He held you in high regard, as you were the only source of light in his life, and he didn't want to lose you.

vox

You were known as a strong and independent person who didn't need assistance from others. You knew how to stand up for yourself, despite being harsh and tough at times. Despite your exterior, no one was aware of the soft spot in your heart that Vox's affection and touch alone could melt away your severity.

He appreciated seeing your affectionate side, as it felt special and intimate, like a shared secret between the two of you. He knew you valued your privacy, and he respected it by never sharing photos or other details on social media. He didn't want to betray your trust.

You were often feared and respected when you were with Vox. People found it hard to believe that someone as intimidating as yourself could have a tender, caring side that was kept hidden from most. Vox was glad that he was the only one who got to see that side of you. He didn't want to share something so special and personal with anyone else.

Quite often, he would call you on the phone, knowing that sweet words could be just as effective as a kiss. He enjoyed hearing how your voice softened from its usual seriousness to a more affectionate tone. He was aware that when he said loving phrases to you, you would blush and smile shyly, and sometimes he even regretted not being able to witness it in person.

"i've missed you today babe.."

"mhm look at my pretty girl/boy!"

#Hazbin Hotel #Hazbin Hotel x Reader #Hazbin Hotel headcanons #Alastor #Alastor x Reader #Vox #Vox x Reader #Hazbin Hotel oneshots #Husk #Husk x Reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #vivziepop\

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cerealmilker · 6 months

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while visiting the doctor he asks you if you’d like to participate in highly important medical research for a bit of extra cash, he says they’ll pay five thousand bucks at the end of the research and all you have to do is “run a few standard tests and stay a couple of nights at a research facility”

you agree, i mean he said it was important and the fact they are paying you is a nice added bonus, what could be so bad about a couple of nights in a medical research facility?

the next day you arrive at the address given to you, an empty secluded carpark, with a black SUV parked in the middle. you get out expecting maybe a doctor or a scientist to happily greet you, they did say it was highly important, surely this is normal right? instead four suited men emerge from the doors of the vehicle and grab you roughly by the arms and legs carrying you into the car, kicking and struggling you notice one reach into his pocket, pull out a small cloth and push it close against your face. you only remember the sweet smell as you blackout.

florescent white light invades your vision when you re awake. groggy, you try to stretch your arms when you realise you cant move them, infact, you cant move anything from your neck down. you look down to see you are strapped down on a padded table, arms pinned to your sides, legs spread apart, naked and vulnerable. you were so confused, what the hell was going on?

you see a man, a clean looking older man wearing a white lab coat enters the room holding a clipboard and a pen and takes a seat next to you in a chair just out of your vision. you try to speak, to ask him what was going on but your words are muffled and barely audible, in your mouth was a small gag. after a couple of minutes hearing him writing on a his clipboard you notice a wet squelching sound approaching you, as it got to where you were strapped on the table you heard the man speak. “time is 22:43, first compatibility test starts now”

you felt multiple long slimy tentacles wrap round your already restrained thighs, more made their way onto your chest circling your breasts and eventually teasing your nipples, they began by gently prodding them, tapping and nudging your nipples before placing one of their suckers on each of them. this can’t be happening. you feel your clit twitch. no this- this is so wrong, you didn’t sign up for this, why was this happening to you? what was this thing? and why….why was it making you wet?

you didn’t get the chance to be confused for much longer, feeling another slimy appendage make its way up your legs, it makes its way up your thigh and then stops, right infront of your cunt. slowly it rubs itself up and down your slit, mixing its slime with your wetness before making is way to your clit. again it prods, pokes and taps at the bud between your legs. you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, you really dont want to be turned on by this but something about the way the tentacle on has now switched to suckling gently on your clit has you gushing.

“the subject responds incredibly well to stimulation provided by the first creature” the man speaks calmly, you cant stop your eyes from rolling in the back of your head, every single movement from the appendages had you twitching. its like they new exactly how and where to touch you.

you felt another appendage press at the entrance to your cunt. this one was thicker than the rest, the tip pushes into your hole, and even the first few inches are a stretch. it pushes further and further in stretching your little tight hole nice and wide for it. you cum just from the stretch alone, and the extra stimulation on the rest of your body. whatever this creature is, it does not care that your pussy has never taken anything this big before, it starts brutally shifting in and out of your stretched hole, rubbing up every wall again and again and again. you start to see stars, the overstimulation way too much for your poor body to handle.

and right when you think your on the edge, about to blackout. it stops and pushes deep down, up against your cervix. you feel its hot sticky fluid invade your womb while it twitches up against your walls. all the other appendages stop stimulating your nipples and clit, hearing them slither off and away from the table. you lie and wait, surely it was done secreting whatever fluid has just entered you and will pull out? a couple of minutes turn into ten maybe fifteen, the only sound you could hear being the mans pen on his paper.

again you hear the man speak “test will resume in 3 days, subject and creature will stay linked until birthing”

you start to cry as you hear him leave, realising you’re stuck there. overstimulated cunt stuffed to the brim with alien sperm, and a huge tentacle between your legs to keep you company till the birth of its offspring. lets hope it doesn’t get bored and play with that swollen little bud of yours.

#cl1t torture #cl1t #cl!t torture #cl!t overstim #tentacles #monsterfucking nsft #alien fucking #rapekink #r@pe fantasy #medical kink #medical examination #transmasc #ftm nsft

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wileys-russo · 3 months

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leah williamson, “dont give me that look, i don’t like that look” changing room with arsenal!reader please🥹🫶🏻

l.williamson II the look

"alright girls! relay time." david the step in trainer for the afternoon yelled out with a grin, the rest of the staff pairing you all off to make two teams.

"as a team you will hold hands as you go through the course girls, if someone lets go or falls over you go back to the start. once you reach the blue poles you will break apart and take turns one by one sprinting to the end and back going around the pole at the end. each team will get a baton to be passed onto the next girl, you drop it on the handover then you run again, repeating until your entire team is back." david explained, everyone nodding their understanding and you chuckled watching leah shush a few of the younger ones with a stern look, clearly taking this as seriously as she could.

"ready on three!" david called, both lines of women crouching and ready as your girlfriend smirked across from you, the pair of you on opposite teams and knowing how fiercely competitive leah was, the results of this would be interesting.

"two, one...go!" you both took off, stood at the front and leading your teams around the obstacle course set up by the trainers, giggles filling the air as everyone tripped and stumbled, doing their best not to take the team down and cause a restart, but the series of very different heights and speeds made this anything but easy.

you did your very best to lead your team through though you knew leah bested you at that as you couldn't stop laughing and she couldn't stop shouting like a drill sergeant.

"go lots!" you all hurried to detatch as you arrived to the blue poles, leahs team just having a lead as lotte and stina raced off together for the first lap.

"yes foxy!" you clapped as the girl grabbed the baton, sprinting off and giving your team a tiny gap as beth fumbled the baton and needed to return to the start, shooting your girlfriend a smirk who groaned.

"beth come on man butter fingers honestly!" leah moaned as the blonde finally passed the baton over successfully and re-joined the group.

"oh its for fun leah, lighten up for god sakes you're such a stick in the mud!" beth rolled her eyes pushing the blonde shoulder, ignoring leahs 'constructive feedback' as she was now clearly the only one taking it seriously, everyone elses jeering and laughs of delight filling the air.

"yeah baby, lighten up." you teased as she heard but ignored you, kyra tagging alessia who bless her heart tripped over her own feet earning leahs team their lead back as alessia stumbled off to try and make up time.

"its fine less just brush it off!" you yelled after her, all of you clapping and supporting as once again leah was instead yelling at her team to hurry, kim next up who sprinted off as alessia smacked the baton into katies hand.

"good job twinkle toes." you grinned to the taller blonde who groaned and playfully punched you, collapsing to the ground beside lotte. you continued to all yell and cheer for your team as leah continued to try and motivate hers through different ways.

"this is like when we did the pacer test at school. horrendous!" alessia sighed, chugging a bottle of water with a shake of her head, the day unnaturally hot and you were all feeling it.

the lead was never more than a few seconds, bouncing from leahs teams to yours as both of you purposefully hung back so you could race one another. you may have had different approaches to it but there was no denying you were both determined to beat the other.

the final duo before the two of you finished it up were the aussies, steph for leahs team and caitlin for yours as both you and leah were screaming encouragement, the training staff watching on in amusement as the rest of the girls sat down with their waters.

caitlin just had a head on steph and slipping the baton into your hand you took off getting a good start over your girlfriend who you heard curse angrily behind you as she grabbed the baton and sprinted to try and catch up.

so much so that she didn't go around the pole at the end rather just touching it with her hand while you did it properly which lost you your lead, your whole team protesting heavily as leah crossed the line just before you, dropping her baton and pumping her fists as her team started to celebrate.

"nah thats bullshit she cheated!" you puffed, hands on your knees as you caught your breath and your team backed the accusation. "nah you're all just sore losers mate!" leah beamed, arms slung around lia and kim.

"rules were around the pole, leah only touched so her team is disqualified. winners!" david declared pointing to your team who all cheered, jumping on top of one another as leahs team exploded in protest, david waving it off as he and the rest of the staff began to walk off the pitch.

"you're all just sore losers." you mocked your girlfriends earlier words as the group split up and started to head back inside the training centre for lunch. you tried to hug leah who huffed and side stepped you, storming off inside as you watched her go with a laugh.

"doghouse for you mate." katie barked and pulled you into a headlock, dragging you with her back inside and to the change rooms, chants of victory filling the room as your team reveled in their win.

"hello loser." you appeared in front of leah with a grin, the blonde ignoring you making you shake your head and knock her legs apart, standing closer to her.

"don't give me that look, i don't like that look." leah mumbled catching the somewhat stern way you stared down at her. "because you're being a child." you bumped your knee against hers. "you cheated so you lost, karma." you reminded as your girlfriend mumbled something inaudible.

"you know if the shoe was on the other foot you'd be mugging me off left right and centre lee." you reminded, arms wrapping around her neck as you moved even closer as she huffed and looked up at you with a frown.

"don't pout baby, you should have played fair and you'd not paid the price." you laughed but bent down to kiss at her puckered bottom lip anyway, earning the two of you a wolf whistle.

"fuck off cooney-cross." leah warned leaning around you to shoot the younger girl a glare as she paled and near sprinted out of the room. "leah!" you laughed pushing at her shoulder as she shrugged and looked back up at you, tapping her lips expectantly.

"my girl i fear its gonna take a lot more kisses to make the pain of this loss go away." leah sighed dramatically, her head resting on your stomach as she was sitting down while you stood, rolling your eyes and pushing her fringe out of her face.

"well its a good thing we have the rest of our lives to make up and make out then my love."

#woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso blurbs

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caitlinsclark · 2 months

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NOT CASUAL caitlin clark ² caitlin clark x reader | summary: it was never casual for Caitlin. part one ✰ bree's notes: i don't know if I did this justice, but this is the longest fic i've done so i hope you guys like it!! word count: 4.4k masterlist and tag list

The world had seemed to spin on its head when you walked away from Caitlin. Because you truly had begun to act as if it all had been casual. Kate was the sole witness as you indulged in a full fledged factory reset, waking up early to run drills in replacement of the early morning runs you used to go on with Caitlin.

In fact, you hadn’t wallowed for a single second and you didn’t feel the need to. The frustration only fueled more energy, energy that would be used on much more efficient things than Caitlin’s exhausting presence.

This newfound composure was tested at the first practice since the blowout you two had. You were far too determined to let it slip. Coach Bluder had first called for drills which you ran through with ease, able to block out the overwhelming glares Caitlin sent your way. At least, that’s what they felt like in your eyes. In reality, the brunette was staring at you longingly from her position on the other court, thinking that if you were focused you wouldn’t notice.

Her straight face was a disguise, hiding all the depressingly aching thoughts that flooded her entire body with disappointment. She wasn’t expecting for your words to hold the weight they did. Honestly, she had half expected you to eagerly pick her for the 1v1s you had run during practice but you didn’t even look in her direction when you picked Gabbie.

No matter how many times she turned over the argument in her head, she only heard the harsh words that flew from her own mouth. The reporters were right in their critique when they said she wasn’t great at defense, and that didn’t only extend to basketball.

“Money!” You cheered excitedly when you drained a 3 effortlessly, chest bumping with Kate who shared in your enthusiasm as you both landed back on the ground with smiles. Caitlin turned her back to you when she started to smile herself and shot her own 3, staying quiet as it swished around before falling into the basket. She silently celebrated along with you as if your cheers were for her too, since she wasn’t sure she’d hear them anytime soon.

After practice, you were in the locker room beaming as your phone went off. You gave a reaction that drew in attention, a little dramatic just for a ringtone. But it made sense once you answered the call and greeted the blonde on the other side of the phone.

“Hey, P!” You sent her a jokingly flirty wave with a huge grin, matching the energy of the extroverted girl on the other end.

She had a similar smile on her face, biting her lip to keep it down but failing, “Hi, ma.”

“Say hi to the team!” You flipped the camera to show the rest of the team who said hi and allowed the blonde to greet them back. They exchanged a few casualties as Caitlin stared hard at the athlete on the phone.

You didn’t see, but Paige blushed at the realization that the entire team had heard the way she greeted you with so much adoration. Your presence was capturing and she had been another to get succumbed by it.

The way you spoke held hope, “You’re gonna be coming to the game right?” Your eyes glimmered in the locker room lights and Caitlin wanted to cover her own ears at the sweet tone she hadn’t heard in days. She couldn’t help but torture herself with wondering how long this had been planned. Why were the two of you speaking with such familiarity?

“Me, KK, and Azzi,” Paige added as if you forgetting how many people supported you was ridiculous, “But mostly me.” The extra words invoked a small laugh out of you that endeared your teammates. They all shared matching knowing looks, minus Caitlin who wanted to avoid it all together.

Minutes later, It was only you and the brunette left in the locker room, but you didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered by it. You continued tapping at your phone with an eager pace and a grin. The girl who was normally glued to her own phone felt herself judging you bitterly, “You know she’s not just a friend, she’s into you.”

“At least she cares about me like a friend first.” You laughed it off like she was ridiculous, and she was in the moment. You both knew it when it rendered her speechless.

“I deserve that,” The brunette gave in, “but you know that’s not true, you were always my friend.” Her facade seemed to break the most you’d seen since that night. But you couldn’t stop the painful reminder about the absolute disregard it took for her to knowingly play with your feelings.

“I don’t know that, Caitlin,” You patted her shoulder as you corrected her, talking to her like a child who didn’t understand a complicated concept, “In fact, you’ve never even said otherwise til now.”

And you walked out right out the door, staring expectantly at your phone with a bitten bottom lip, highlighting your anticipation.

Her head fell into her hands and a line of tears threatened to spill out of her waterline. You believed that she didn’t internalize every time your hands held on a little too long, the time she covered your eyes so you didn’t see your favorite character die in a show, the time she almost felt the urge to get down on one knee when watching you juke her brothers out at soccer.

Despite her words, there were so many moments the two of you had shared. Caitlin knew that the no attachments rule was a load of bullshit the second that the two of you kissed. You pulled away far too quickly for her liking and she found herself greedily pulling you back in, enamored with the way you tasted, consumed by you entirely in a way she’d never experienced.

With a cleared throat, she attempted to shake it off and noticed your left open locker, leaning over to shut it for you.

Her movements slowed at the picture, somewhat hidden in the back of your locker, of the two of you cuddled up at her family’s house in Long Beach. That was the weekend that she knew the two of you had slowly been developing into something more.

The weekend that fear enveloped her being when she realized how much attention was truly on the two of you already. How much the two of you had to lose when you were able to separate yourselves from the pressure you usually had on you.

But that didn’t hold a candle to the pressure building up in her chest at the thought of you currently being swept away.

You and Paige had gotten closer since the first time you met during an intense match against her team. The game against UCONN was an energizing and highly anticipated one.

You’d been conscious enough to look at their roster before hand and scope out their starting players. It was easy to find previously taped games to analyze their usual game play.

So you weren’t surprised when Paige came in, a force to be reckoned with that left you impressed despite your team’s win. Impressed enough to find her after the game and offer her a good game personally.

“You gave me a run for my money,” You complimented with wide eyes, truly impressed at her IQ on the court.

She chuckled, lifting her jersey to wipe her hairline slowly. Your eyes might have slipped down a little at the action and you were not quick enough to lift them all the way back to her eyes.

The blonde just smirked, wordlessly holding her hand out for you to shake. You accepted and allowed your hands to stay connected for a few extra seconds.

“Anymore compliments?” She raised her eyebrows teasingly, “I’m always accepting from pretty girls.” Her flirty personality immediately popped out and you knew that she was dangerous.

“Oh, you’re good!” Your head shook in disbelief and allowed a laugh to escape as she did the same.

She rubbed her hands together jokingly and you shoved them down quickly, laughing along side her goofily, “Nah, stop the rizz hands! They’ll work!” The two of you hadn’t realized how close you got in the process, but it felt like a natural gravitational pull.

“Hey, I’m Caitlin,” A hand lightly appeared and rested on your waist, easily seen and very protective. But the brunette held her other hand out to Paige in a friendly manor even though you knew better, and Paige accepted happily. And that was the end of it.

You’d always thought she was attractive, how could you not? But there was something about the pull you felt to Caitlin that never let those thoughts stray too far without adjusting to the brunette. Now fear also played a factor in allowing yourself to give into anything of that nature.

Though your adoration for her was genuine, and you two had many discussions about the state of your opinion on dating basketball players.

It was prompted over a live with Azzi that you joined with a level of excitement to see your girls.

“Hi!” You waved, setting the phone down on your table. The girls waved back and were quick to ask you how the season was going. It was later in the live that Azzi squinted at the chat and said your name.

“They wanna know if you’ll go to their sorority formal with them, they’re a basketball player so apparently you’re soulmates,” Paige read out with a bitten lip, holding back a laugh as she waited for you to respond.

“Nah basketball players are sworn off romantically,” You made an ‘x’ with your arms and shook your head in distaste, “I’d break their ego in a 1v1 and we’d break up.” You played off the real reason and deflected when the girls laughed with you.

Paige had made a mental note to ask you about that later, and you assumed her intentions were simply coming from the place of a worried friend. You were comfortable enough to dive into the intimate details of yours and Caitlin’s falling out.

And you were met with nothing but support, which you expected from the girl. She’d been another outlet for you to maintain the composure you needed in order to function on a team with Caitlin.

The crowd was buzzing on both sides, Iowa and LSU. You were quick to scan your home side upon exiting the tunnel and going onto the court.

It was the first game since yours and Caitlin’s falling out which added a level of nervousness. In the sea of 22 jerseys, you were shocked to find one of your own draped on the pretty blonde you’d invited. This was at the same time that the cameraman also seemed to be made aware of her presence as she appeared on the big screen.

The cheers of the crowd summarized your reaction to a tee, especially as Paige stood up to turn around and point to make sure the camera would capture your last name on her back.

When Paige sat back down, she had the most satisfied smile playing on her face and it took everything in your willpower not to collapse at the wink she sent your way afterward.

Caitlin had to hide her face in Kate’s shoulder to ignore the scene, being overtaken by the pain in her heart. The blonde could only pat her friend’s head sympathetically, shielding her.

The game was intense from the get go, and your frustration with Caitlin only made you play harder. You were driving to the net with a tenacity that she had to admire even in your rough patch. You were much stronger than her considering she’d been missing almost every shot she’d taken. It was to the point where she’d just given the ball back to you when she got possession, too scared to fuck up even more.

Because of your handle on the ball, the opposing coach had been smart to have her players begin to guard you more consciously. It led to one of your opponents sending you flying to the ground during a layup, a groan leaving your lips as you fell flat to the ground.

You ignored the hand that Caitlin held out to you, trying to lift yourself up slowly on your own. Caitlin sighed at your pettiness, deciding to at least help you by giving you more time. She kneeled to tie her shoe, only standing up once you were settled back on your feet.

The game continued back and forth with a nail biting second half. Ultimately, Caitlin got pulled to the bench and you were deservingly still out on the court. The most frustrating part was that your team had still won, with your help as opposed to hers. With 10 assists, 25 points, and being speedy with practically every rebound, you had completely carried them to win the game despite the brunette’s multiple turnovers and fouls.

You were at the top of your game while she was at the bottom of hers. Caitlin watched as the team crowded around you from a distance, nodding appreciatively at you once you glanced in her direction. She ultimately chose to let you be as she turned and returned back to the locker room, body language unlike someone who just won a game.

You were so distracted by the girl waiting for you at the end of the hallway that you didn’t notice the one approaching from behind you.

With a grasp on your arm, Caitlin halted your movements to speak, “I need to talk to you.” Her posture was sluggish and slumped showing the same exhaustion she’d had on the court.

“Sorry, our work relations and window to talk finished the moment the buzzer went off!” You smiled curtly and plucked your arm to continue walking with Paige who tried to not look as amused as she was.

“Funny,” She deadpanned, rolling her eyes at the pettiness you were doing a great job at showing. This aggression was a complete flip from the affection you usually approached her with, it felt like a new person.

“No, my funny side is reserved for people that mean more than being a teammate to me.” You opted for checking your reflection in the mirror on the wall beside you, adjusting your hair just a bit. Caitlin was beginning to see red, but tried her best to push it down. She couldn’t help but get a last jab in though.

“What, like her?” Caitlin nodded to the blonde waiting for you down the hall. The thought of you agreeing had a pit growing in the brunette’s stomach. You followed her gesture and gazed at Paige, admiring the way her hair cascaded down her back in soft waves and framed her growing smirk at the sight of you giving her attention. She seemed secure as ever with her arms crossed loosely, raising an expectant eyebrow at you as if she knew what you were going to choose.

“Actually,” You kept looking in admiration at Paige despite Caitlin’s heavy stare on you, “yeah, exactly like her.” Finally, you graced the brunette with your eye contact to show the honesty behind your words, content on the way her shoulders slumped in response.

Caitlin’s grip on you loosened to a non existent one, accepting to physically let you go in her now weakened state from your words. But that didn’t mean she was going to let you go completely.

Her aching heart was only a fueling factor as she watched you prance happily over to the other athlete. That couldn’t be the end.

“Almost like there’s some kinda tension between you guys,” Paige side eyed you playfully, still managing to keep the air light and easy. You craved that breezy feeling as opposed to the way your heart clenched with the brunette you left in your trails.

You wiggled your eyebrows at her, “Some could say there’s tension between me and you, does that make it true, Bueckers?” It was a clear fish for something and your glance down to her lips as her tongue darted out to wet them seemed intentional. It was.

Caitlin could be called a sadist with the way she refused to move her eyes from the two of you. Her mind was a cruel force to be reckoned with as it began to compare the stark differences. Paige’s extroverted personality easily captivated you, shown by the way you leaned into her enticingly, biting your lip like you had to hold yourself back from being completely taken by her.

Caitlin had never been bold enough to give into you in that way, fearful of being rejected for her genuine personality than the one she put on.

The only similarity was the enamored look on Paige’s face, Caitlin hated to admit it was the one she caught herself giving you more times than not. Those tiny moments she indulged herself in what you two could’ve been. All sweet things that could be easily ripped away once things got serious.

The entire team was buzzing, taking up the living room in a cozy haze. You’d taken a few celebratory shots and had stepped outside with Paige to get a couple fresh breaths of air.

You were close as ever, your legs draped over her lap in a comfortable and cozy position. Your upper half leaned against the back of the couch, tilting toward her with a drunken imbalance.

It seemed like the perfect, quiet moment to let yourself indulge in the pretty blonde who seemed to welcome your closeness.

The scene was karmic at best, timing on no one’s side at all. As your lips got dangerously close, all it took was one finish push, you heard as the backdoor opened and slammed shut subsequently. By the time your eyes opened, you caught the sight of Caitlin walking past the glass door back into the house.

“On TruTV’s Most Awkward Moments,” She narrated and patiently leaned back, waiting for you to chase after her. Her tone didn’t seem angry, not even offended.

“I don’t have to go handle that.” You assured her, shaking it off and sitting back down on the chair. Her eyes burned into you with suspicion like she knew you would break.

You sighed, “I have to go handle that.” She smiled at you, a genuine smile, and leaned in to give you a tight hug. Paige squeezed you and you squeezed back, wishing that things could just be simple.

The light environment returned, despite the situation you’d been in moments ago. But Paige let a smirk take over her features again as she teased you when you pulled away

“If you guys ever need a third..” She trailed off and licked her lips dramatically, still able to make you laugh despite the situation you were heading into.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” You squeezed her arm before turning and heading toward the door Caitlin had disappeared behind.

“Good luck,” she called out, lacking any resentment and you felt like you genuinely needed it. You thanked her with a smile and went inside, searching for the emotionally challenged brunette.

Caitlin didn’t even look up at you from her phone once you’d entered the otherwise empty room she occupied, “Oh, don’t let me interrupt.” You walked over and plucked the device from her grasp, ignoring the incredulous look she sent you.

“You did interrupt,” you said plainly as you sat down in front of her, “Same way I interrupted the day you had someone leaving your dorm, except I’m going to handle it a lot differently because this was the grace I deserved.”

Her demeanor changed, a frown settling on her face, though she didn’t make a move to argue. She even nodded in agreement, staying silent as she waited for you to go on.

“We’re teammates, you have no right to get mad,” You reiterated what you said to her the last time. It was firm and took all of your strength to hold it together.

Caitlin tried to challenge you, shaking her head, “We’re more than that.” Finally hearing her say it made you want to jump up and down, but it wasn’t that easy.

You crossed your arms over your chest to protect yourself, “Are we? Because last I checked we’re barely even that.” It hurt that she hadn’t corrected you until then.

The reality check clicked somewhere in her brain, the thought of you truly believing that it all was reduced to nothing making her ill.

“I’m sorry I lied to you when I said it was casual,” Caitlin confessed weakly with a shallow breath, “It was not casual. You’re the only person I kept looking to today for reassurance, and when I realized you were looking to someone else for yours, I wanted to collapse.” The admission was easy, a scary leap from when she couldn’t even acknowledge the weight behind your physical relations.

“So another competitive thing?” You raised an eyebrow, hesitant to believe the quick change in attitude like some kind of epiphany.

“Not at all,” and with the way she looked offended at the insinuation made you want to believe her, “I was taking advantage of how understanding you were. You were there to ground me and basically be a girlfriend without me giving you the same validation. I couldn’t show you then, but you deserve to know the feelings were there, if any of that matters.”

You didn’t know if it did matter, couldn’t tell when your heart was buried under the emotions of the last few days.

“I was definitely jealous too. I’ve been jealous of Paige since the day you met.” Caitlin rubbed her eyes roughly like that could get her to say the next words easier and you pushed her hands away from her face, “But getting you away from her was never my angle. You should go back out there.”

You weren’t expecting the follow up confession, scrunching up your face while she looked away from you. You and Paige had met practically worlds before you and Caitlin had even started your agreement.

She knew you’d put two and two together, and you did. Her feelings had gone on for a lot longer than yours did. Caitlin took the advantage of you staying with her for a few more moments at least.

Her voice reduced to a whisper, looking at you with her head settled defeatedly on her fist, “Is this what you felt every time?”

“Yeah.” You sighed and moved to sit next to her, allowing yourself to sink comfortably into the couch within her presence. There was still a lot of room between you, a responsible amount.

“I’m sorry I was a coward,” She went to reach for your hand out of habit, but stopped midway where her hand dropped on the couch between you, “I didn’t deserve to have you come after me.” Caitlin toyed with the thread of the cushion to distract herself from the urge she had to be close to you.

“But I don’t think you deserved to see that either, same way I didn’t deserve to see it when I went to your dorm.” You reasoned, filling her heart with warmth at the way you still cared, despite the reasons she gave you not to.

A sympathy she was not qualified to receive after the way she’d treated you.

She shook her head at the generosity you were offering her, “No, I did. I was really shitty to you and that was payback for it. I got karma.”

You offered her a small smile, feeling like she’d suffered enough over the last day with Paige.

“Yeah, a little,” you agreed teasingly, grasping the hand she’d left lingering in between you two. You played with her fingers and she let you, too scared to scare you off with even a subtle move.

“Paige said she’d be a willing third if we ever needed,” You wiggled your eyebrows at her in a daring moment of silence.

Caitlin threw her head back in a genuine laugh, the comfortable environment returning that you hadn’t gotten even a glimpse at in a few weeks. You couldn’t help but giggle alongside her, squeezing her hand in a simple gesture.

Your head lolled to the side, taking a silent moment to gaze at her features appreciatively as she did the same. You were the one to break, to surge forward and interlock your lips with a searing and much missed intensity.

But the shortness of the kiss shocked you, full of sweetness and desire but no more than a few seconds until the brunette pulled away. You expected her to possessively push you back, show some sort of dominance to initiate something further.

But Caitlin cared more about showering the rest of your face with attention, craving to memorize every little detail that she’d missed out on thus far.

“I’m not doing anything with you for like two weeks,” You vowed as a warning to test the waters, pulling away slightly as she kept kissing all around your face, trying to get a word in through your interrupting laughs.

“I’ll wait,” She hummed, switching so she could hold your jaw, prohibiting you from squirming away now.

“Three weeks.” You changed your mind, staring at her to gauge her reaction.

She didn’t even twitch, still staring at you with an adoring smile, “Okay.”

“Four weeks,” You squinted at her suspiciously, waiting for a sprout of disappointment or hesitance.

“Okay.”

“Five weeks,” You challenged once more, though she gave the same response as she looked at you with amusement written on her features.

“Really, nothing? Five weeks and you’re okay? Are you obsessed with me or something?” You quirked an eyebrow, putting your hands on her shoulders to add a little bit of separation. But her hands made quick work of grabbing your waist to pull you back in as she made a loud noise of agreement, the warmth of a chaste kiss on your jaw following it.

“Not very casual of you.” You grimaced playfully, gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, twirling it between your finger tips as you switched to a happy grin.

“Not at all.” Her voice dripped in happiness as she leaned into you, accepting the way you pushed up to meet her halfway once more.

TAGLIST! @lovermcres @glorioushamsterqueen @miedmead @blueagle45 @pbloverr @cavillary @elizabethkitley @1-800-fantasy @into-f0lkl0re @mysticchildsuit @sapphicmermaid

#caitlin clark #caitlin clark x reader #wbb x reader #wnba basketball #wnba #basketball #caitlin clark x y/n #caitlin clark fic #caitlin clark x fem!reader #paige bueckers #paige x reader #uconn huskies #uconn wbb #uconn x reader

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aly4khq · 2 months

Text

- 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄 -

- 𝓼𝔂𝓵𝓾𝓼 -

word count: 2.3K

warnings: a little degrading, one singular slap, pet names, aftercare, slightly rough sex, mc is a troublemaker!

theme: crack filled smut

enjoy!

"ughhhh!" you laid in sylus' bed, awaiting his return from whatever hell spawn mission he went on. the soft silky sheets smelt of his expensive cologne, mixed with his shampoo that could be smelt better on his actual pillow. as time went by, his presence still gone, rage grew in you yet your mind pushed you to let him off—

CAWWWW!

"shit!" you exhaled as the sound of mephisto echoed around the massive bedroom. your eyebrows furrowed before you met eyes with the deafening crow that sat on top of the door. confusion and a slight annoyance overtook the rage as you lightly scolded the bird. "wha?- get down!", your hand flailed around, trying to convince it to retreat to your side— which just like its owner, didn't listen. instead going on the other way, mephisto's yells and squeals became louder.

after a while, the devilish bird came back, screaming your ear off before running in the same direction. your brain pushed you to let it to, yet your instinct told you to go after it's call. like before, mephisto came back, yet it was silent. but before anyone could speak, it left. "oh my gosh- mephisto wait!"

chasing after it, only a glimpse of black feathers helped you navigate around the mansion. a presence was falling behind, and you knew it. it was strong and make you feel...mind controlled. as you ran through the decorated walls, the lovely red painting and accessories made you fall in love with the scenery. the adoration for the colour red.

"what is that bird on about.." you murmured to yourself, a hand resting on your temple as you thought deeply. mephisto's shout abruptly came to a halt. He brought you to a mirror, one that you always looked in to test out your clothes. "damn, were you trynna tell me that my hair is beautiful?-"

CAWWW!

"excuse you! where's your matters!" scoffing, you grabbed a nearby hairbrush, brushing out the heavy coils of hair as it became fluffier. looking around, you secured the area before speaking. "just like your owner, firstly you get my attention, leave and return then you insult me!..how—"

"rude?" ...oh no. your body tensed up as a red and black mist shot out from the darkness, wrapping around your arm. gentle yet possessive, that mist flipped you around, pinning you against the mirror as a hand wrapped around the other, pinning it onto their waist. a few gasps and yelps coming from your now smaller figure. "am i really rude to you? or are you sensitive, sweetie?"

scoffing, your hands tried to fight against his tight grip, your mind questioning his strength. "no! you're just mean-gasp..! what is that?!" your eyes fell upon the deep gash in sylus' waist, reaching from his right lower hip straight across to his left upper torso. "none of your concern, why are you up so late?" his hand let go, as well as his evol as your hand fell onto your hips, making your way towards him.

"i was waiting for you, then somebody started yelling and running- or should i sat speed flying- to the mirror." a deep chuckle erupted from sylus, his body sat down on the sofa facing opposite to the mirror; a mischievous smirk on his face. his wounds soon enough disappeared as that same mist grabbed your waist, pulling you onto his lap. his chest to your back as his hand laid on your thighs.

"i thought i told a certain someone to go to bed," you hissed as he pinched your side. ", i never knew my woman would be so eager to go against my orders." his eyebrow lifted as his gently hand turned your face towards him, his expression naughty yet sweet. "i didn't go against your orders. i was curious and you said you'd be home in an hour! it's been 2 and a half!"

your rage grew as he pushed your lower back down, his hand lifting up your his shirt before checking your back for the tattoo that laid on your skin. the words, 'SYLUS' in cursive just below your spinal tattoo. "good." a huff escaped your mouth as you hit his leg, "you think it would be gone? it can never go away at and neither can i. don't be idiotic— ow!

his teeth latched onto your neck a he sucked the skin harshly for your comments, making sure to create new hickeys around your body as well as your back. his lips dancing around your skin as you shivered. "okay! okay! i get it!- ah! i get it!" only did he then stop, placing a soft kiss on your neck before his lovely deep voice filled your ears. his finger spinning around as he laid back, "turn."

turning around to face him, your hands pushed down on his shoulders. your eyes full of dominance yet they didn't top his. a deep desire in your chest as an intimate idea came across your mind. his eyes travelling down your body until it stopped on your hand that was also descending down. he hissed as you suddenly pressed your hand onto his crotch, giggling under your breath. "who said you could to do that?"

"me, obviously." you giggled, loving how he reacted to your touch. you tested him endlessly, kissing his neck before rubbing his slowly growing bulge. "provoking me is not a wise choice..." just as his hips buckled from the sensation, you slowly came off of his lap, happily rubbing onto his body. it was fun to tease sylus. until it was not. in a few seconds, you went from upright to in the air...over his broad shoulder. you squirmed around, pounding on his back, "let me downnn! you psycho!- AHHH, sylus no joke i'm gonna fall!-"

you kicked your legs as an attempt to get him to let go but he continued to play with you in his arms, moving you down his back and quickly retreating you. making it seem like a rollercoaster, all under his control. "shh, you're gonna wake up everyone in the N109 Zone." in his tone held a warning, a playful tone yet he had no hesitation to put you in your place. "i don't care- let me go you bastard! his hand gripped your thighs harder, second warning.

closing your eyes, the feeling of your comforter met your back as he pulled away from you, undressing from his dirty work clothes placing them into the laundry basket. "wait here." you watched as his figure disappeared into the shower room, the open space soon enough filling with steam. the urge to go in there was overwhelmingly strong, you wanted him. all of him for tonight before he's off again doing who-knows-what. an over exaggerated sigh came from your position on the bed as he took his sweet time.

once he came out, his body was drenched in water droplets, his v-line just showing before his towel blocked the rest of him. "you seem troubled by something." using another towel, he dried his hair awaiting your answer. "nothing..." his head turned around, eyes glaring into yours, instantly spotting your lie. "fine then, if you'refine then pass me my robe." you jumped up, a chance to touch him at least!

as you gave him his robe; your hand went to his shoulder, basically forcing him to stare into your eyes— which were non-surprisingly filled with neediness. his frown expression changed to a confusion and curious one, his eyebrow rising as you slowly moved your hand down..to his pecs...even further to his abs, nearly accomplishing your mission before his own hand grabbed your wrist. a sigh coming from above you, once you looked up, his eyes told you enough, "go to bed."

like always, you furrowed your eyebrows, a deep pout coming at your lips as you shook your head no. "what do you mean no?" "i don't want to sleep.." you moved your night dress a little, lightly flashing your tits at him. "you dare devil.." finally!, you thought. "but it's too late. and you need to sleep, we have an important auction to be at tomorrow." "awhhh..."

scoffing, he dragged you onto his bed, where you also originally was supposed to be. at first, you thought that he'd want to indulge in your sexy fantasies; dicking you down until you only remember his name. but to your misery, he sat beside you before tucking you in. angrily, you pushed the duvet off of you and him. "no!- sylusss! i wanna fuck ." he chuckled, looking down at you with a smirk, "how explicit, but you know the drill. beg baby." you whined, getting on top of him, grabbing his waist in your small hands before latching your lips onto his. your tongues hugging each other as your hand reaches up for his face, caressing the soft skin as his hand wrapped around your hip.

"if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me instead." you rolled your eyes before trying to get off his lap, when a strong grasp held you back. "excuse me? repeat that." and if we recall back to before, it was clear of what will happen next.

'..he had no hesitation to put you in your place.'

feeling reckless, you looked back at him, staring into his blooming eyes. "if you don't get to work, i'll get xavier to fuck me inst-" a large hand went around your mouth, forcing your head back as you felt sylus move from underneath you. "you just love to play with fire, don't you?" he flipped you over, so he was straddling your the back of your thighs. lust surrounded the room and filled the air as you fought against the hand restricting you from speaking before whining. his touch hypnotising as the familiar hands went into his bedside drawer.

in the meantime, he used his evol to rip your night dress off, throwing it somewhere in the room before grabbing your hands. "mhmm!-" "shut up." feeling the coldness of handcuffs, a deep groan came from the depth of your body, your legs kicking as you awaiting for his next move. a sharp, heavy blow landed on your right ass cheek, as your head lifted in a gasp of shock— and excitement — , the sting painful on your skin. you shook your body as an attempt for him to caress the now blooming with red skin. a little chuckle vibrating behind you as his hands rubbed at your ass, shaking the flesh to make it move. "how hypnotic."

"look at this tight hole," he spread your ass open with his hands, before spitting directly on your asshole. in a gentle manner, he let you speak, unravelling his evol. "have you ever been fucked here before?" you were about to ask where, when he circled your hole with his thumb, a delicious shiver filling his ears. "no...why?" his hand found space in your curls before turning your head to the side lovingly, his eyes softened. visible fear of hurting you in any way appeared in his eyes, his eyes scanning your expression. "do you want to?" your face went through all of your emotions like a wheel before it finally chose one. a playful smirk came upon your lips.

"...heck yeah. give me what you got big boy!-" "mood's gone."

(1,813 word count so far)

"mhm! ah!- sylus...it's nearly 4am! please, t'much-" "you can handle it." your sore and tired body was about to give in if it wasn't for sylus' hands occasionally moving your hair or tapping at your face, a reminder to stay awake. it's been around 4 hours, he gave you a little break before hand, making sure that he didn't overstimulated you too much. but as soon as he filled you with his load, hopefully giving you his child, his hands let you down slowly, resting your now fucked out body onto his black sheets.

"how pretty, you okay?" he spoke out to you as you nodded. but that's not a good enough answer for him. "words" a whine escaped your body right after you yawned, "yes.." he kissed the back of your head from behind you, slowly getting off of the bed to get you a wet towel, unknowing to the obvious stains on the sheets. but by the time he came back, he noticed them, a sigh from his chest as he lifted you up and into the bath he had prepared. "where are you going?", a soft voice came from the bathroom as sylus took off the sheets, putting them in a bucket separate from his other laundry. gently, he placed down another sheet, making sure it was straight before dazzling it with his favourite sheet scents. "changing the sheets, a little hunter couldn't contain all of me."

you scoffed, "no. you have mediocre dick. that's all me." the warmth of the water soothing your muscles with a relaxing smell. the air contained the lovely smell of body wash, takking control of your body as sleep snuck into the atmosphere. "i will fuck you in that bath right now until noon." his figure appeared in the bathroom as he walked over. "alright! you have the best dick game ever. 10/10."

he smirked before getting in with you, scrubbing your back with a cloth; making sure to rub into your skin. "damn..you're good with your hands." you complimented, your head reaching back as he continued his massage. "heard that before." he chuckled after before you followed, "shut up."

both of you were snuggled into the newly placed sheets, the smell gorgeous as he held you to his chest, arms locked around your waist as one of your legs were wrapped around his hips. a giggle coming from you as you got comfortable. a grunt came from the man above you, "stop playing. it's already the morning. and you're gonna complain for sleep."

you were gonna protest and argue back but the firm squeeze on your side was enough to silence you, "yes sir." lifting your head, he planted a soft kiss onto your lips; full of protection and love. you pulled away, feeling his smile of your forehead, your hands hugging his chest as you smiled. who knew that the lead of onychinus could be so sweet? "go to bed sweetie."

CAWWWWW!

"you too, mephisto."

i got bored in the end i'm sorryy 😖💔

do not steal @aly4khq's work even tho they are trash!

date made: 25/07/24

i do not give permission to repost or copy elsewhere.

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santaasi · 2 months

Text

moth to a flame

pairing: james potter x black!reader

summary: what could be more forbidden than loving your brother's best friend?

warnings: mdni, 18+, smut with plot (fingering), reader is sirius’s twin sister, james smokes, no use of y/n, english isn’t my first language

word count: 3.7k

a/n: i'm alive! and now i have bachelor degree! it was a hard few month but i survived and decided to try smth new. i've never posted smut before… sooo idk if it good or not but bc it was in my drafts for a long time now, and i wanted to post smth for u guys… now it's here. not my best work i think but nevertheless i hope you will like it. have a good time reading <з

"JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER, STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

The Gryffindor dorm was a whirlwind of noise and energy, laughter bouncing off the walls. You lay sprawled on your bed, desperately trying to wriggle free from his bear-like grip. You never understood where James got so much power from. He was an animagus deer, not a bear, damn you. You twisted and kicked in every direction, but his nimble fingers danced over your bare skin, tickling mercilessly and making you shriek with laughter. Time seemed to blur as your best friend’s relentless tickling pulled you away from your herbology test preparations. Your stomach muscles ached from laughing, and your cheeks felt sore from the constant smile etched on your face.

“Jamie, please stop. I'm going to die now," you mumbled without stopping laughing. “Sirius will come soon and there'll be hell to pay”

After these words, James grinned, loosened his grip, and rolled onto the other half of the bed. His warm brown eyes followed your every move, a gentle intensity in his gaze. He left a light kiss on your cheek before getting out of bed, and you breathed deeply, trying to steady your erratic breaths. You watched as James crossed the room in a few swift strides, heading to the desk and opening the window. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you felt the cool wind slide through the chiffon curtains, a refreshing contrast to your heated skin.

James's fingers, which had been caressing your skin moments ago, moved with deliberate slowness as he took a cigarette from the pack. He clamped it between his teeth, the flame from his lighter casting a brief, warm glow as he lit it. You couldn't tear your eyes away from him. His disheveled curls and rumpled white shirt, with its first few buttons teasingly undone, drew your gaze to his collarbones. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the veins on his forearms, each one accentuated in the dim light. That familiar, mischievous grin played on his lips, making you believe that James Potter did it all on purpose.

That grin shone on his face as if he had already won the Quidditch Cup against Slytherin. It made your breathing falter again, sending a whole crazy swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. You loved that James Potter grin, the playful twinkle in his eyes, and the way he slightly raised his head to exhale cigarette smoke out the window, where the sun was setting. Yeah, you liked everything about James Potter to the point of a stomach ache and an incredibly fast heartbeat in your chest.

You were the biggest fan of your brother's best friend. Sometimes, it seemed you literally couldn't live without James—without his jokes, his light touches, his gentle whispers in your ear, and those sparkling eyes like two precious stones. However, James probably didn't even know it, thinking of you only as his best friend's little sister.

“Hey you, don't touch my stuff!” you were indignant, watching him run his fingers over the photo that stood on your desk. You saw James roll his eyes, not paying any attention to your words, and take the frame in both hands, studying it carefully.

“It seems you fit in well with our shabby group,” the guy said quietly and looked around. "Everyone likes you, even Mr. Grumpy Peter”

In his hands was a white frame, its edges adorned with delicate gold filigree, cradling a photo captured just a few weeks earlier. In the picture, you and the Marauders are all there, faces lit with joy—Lily’s laughter bright, Marlene’s mischievous grin, and Dorcas’s warm smile. The scene is set in the cozy common room, where you had all gathered around, lost in the delight of silly Muggle games Lily had introduced. The simple pleasure of those games, so different from the usual weight of family troubles, offered a rare warmth and comfort. You hold this photo close, a cherished relic of laughter and friendship, its presence a bittersweet reminder of how much you missed Sirius when he left you and the rest of the family behind.

You were profoundly grateful to the entire gang for the chance to be reunited with your twin brother. It was a rare gift to once again be enveloped in his care and protection, to bask in his unwavering love. Your bond with Sirius had always been a delicate thread, frayed by circumstance. The divide between Slytherin and Gryffindor had severed your Hogwarts communication, yet at home, he remained your cherished brother. Though he could be infuriating at times, he was always a steadfast presence, an integral part of your very being.

But the rift deepened when his conflicts with your parents escalated, leaving you unwillingly caught in the crossfire. Sirius's bitterness led him to view you and Regulus as traitors, and then, when he departed, the bond between you was irrevocably severed. It felt as if a piece of your soul had been torn away with him, leaving life in the cold, shadowy manor utterly unbearable.

Then Lily’s intervention restored a semblance of normality. Sirius’s familiar gesture—ruffling your hair in the hallway, calling you "pearl," and flashing that familiar, mischievous smile—was a balm to your wounded heart. Even though a part of you grappled with guilt over maintaining your connection with Sirius while feeling disloyal to Regulus, you couldn't bear to be without your twin. And now, life seemed also incomplete without his cheeky Quidditch captain friend, James Potter, who had become an unexpected but welcome fixture in your world.

“What ‘bout you?”

The words came out of your mouth before you could think them through. You nervously bit your lower lip, your gaze fixated on James as he methodically extinguished his cigarette, leaving the window ajar. His movements were slow and deliberate as he slid his hands into his trouser pockets and made his way towards the bed. Each step seemed to draw him closer to you, the mattress sinking slightly under his weight as he settled next to your feet.

You shifted uneasily, trying to maintain some distance, but James’s presence was undeniable. Your heart raced with every inch he came nearer. When he finally reached out, his hand gently caressed your cheek, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. The faint, lingering scent of smoke began to weave its way into your senses, adding to the tension that filled the room.

“What ‘bout me, lovely?” He said softly.

His hot breath scorched your neck as James tilted his head slightly to the side. Your eyelashes fluttered and a soft sigh escaped your lips. You could feel the blush rising up your neck and stopping on your cheeks. You've never considered yourself the one who could melt at the sight of a guy… You have always been sure that you are a tough nut to crack and the path to your heart is not easy and thorny. But as soon as James Potter came into your life, sat so close to you and looked at you with his big chocolate eyes, you became a puddle in his hands and there was nothing you could do about it.

It was unbearable to have feelings for James Potter, the school’s shining star, who was constantly surrounded by a throng of admirers vying for his attention. But the situation was even more agonizing knowing that James was your brother's closest friend, the one who had rescued him from the chaos of your family, the brother Sirius had chosen as family.

Despite the unbreakable bond you shared with Sirius, and the way you two were as inseparable as a single machine, you never broached this subject with him. Why? Because you had seen and heard countless stories from friends and acquaintances whose relationships with their siblings’ best friends ended in resentment and discord. You understood the underlying issue all too well: no one wanted to be caught in the crossfire of a breakup between a family member and a closest friend.

For Sirius, the situation would be even more complex. You couldn’t imagine being forced to choose between your twin brother—who was half of you—and your closest friend. It was a choice you knew you could never make, and that realization only deepened the anguish of your feelings for James.

That’s why you remained silent, burying your feelings deep within yourself. Whenever you spent time together, you made a conscious effort to keep your distance from James, but it never seemed to work. With every encounter, your feelings for the Quidditch captain grew stronger, more consuming. Lately, however, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep everything bottled up. Listening to stories about his snogs was tormenting. Watching him flirt and interact with others was a growing source of anguish. You felt yourself unraveling under the weight of it all.

You licked your dry lips, drawing in a shaky breath, and cast your eyes downward before murmuring, barely audible.

"I-uh... do you like me?"

Your voice trembled, faltering until, by the end, your words dissolved into nothing more than a breathy whisper, a stream of air that barely formed a coherent sentence. And you would have died of shame on the spot if it hadn't been for James's thumb stroking your hot cheek soothingly. His gaze slid over your face, carefully, as if under a microscope, studying every detail that seemed to have already learned everything during these couple of months of your close communication. You were so beautiful with those confused eyes, and halting breathing, and that scar showing above your eyebrow when you frowned. You were divine.

James, having endured relentless teasing from his friends about his feelings for Lily, believed he was as transparent as an open book. He thought that all his innocent touches, lingering glances, and heartfelt compliments had not gone unnoticed by you, and that you were fully aware of how he felt. He was almost certain of it. But now, as he gazed into your wide, bewildered eyes—eyes that looked at him with a mix of adoration and anxiety—he realized he might not have been as obvious as he’d thought.

You nervously bit your lip and fidgeted with the rings on your fingers, and James couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head. His gaze briefly lingered on your lips, and he was consumed by a longing to taste them. When he looked back up, he stared straight into the depths of your soul, searching for the truth that lay hidden within.

“I thought you knew the answer.… Everyone knows…”

You blinked a few times, nervously swallowing the lump that was beginning to tighten in your throat. James Potter was far too close, encroaching on your personal space in a way that made your heart race and your breath catch. You slowly raised your eyes, trying to come up with some clever answer or make a joke of everything, just not to feel this shame and misunderstanding, just to stop this war in your head. But before you could make a sound, you were on your back again. A surprised sigh escaped your lips when you saw James's smiling face looming over you. His palm rested on your waist, gently squeezing the soft flesh exposed under your shirt.

"Do you want to know the answer, angel?" James asked slowly, bending forward slightly and stretching out each word. His voice was soft and sweet like honey, making goosebumps cover your body.

"Only if I... like it," you whispered softly to him in response, blinking your eyes in surprise, feeling your eyelashes tickle your cheeks.

You felt the ghostly brush of his lips against your temple, then your cheekbone, your cheek, and finally the corner of your lips. James Potter's teasing touch was driving you wild. Your hands instinctively clenched the fabric of his shirt in tight fists as you closed your eyes, a soft whimper escaping your lips. His kiss lingered on your chin before trailing down to your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

“James...” you exhaled, parting your lips as a shiver of impatience rippled through your body. Your fists tightened on his shirt, pulling him closer, desperately craving the contact you longed for. James's laugh came out in a low, throaty sound, and you pouted, frustrated by his playful teasing. But before you could voice your discontent, his lips met yours, pulling you into a tender, sweet kiss that made all your frustrations melt away.

Kissing James Potter was as enchanting as you’d imagined, if not more so. His lips, softened by your cherry balm, carried a lingering taste of cherries, mingling with hints of cigarettes, fresh herbs, and even chocolate—the same chocolates you’d savored just moments before, before James had playfully wrested the last one from you. Where had it gone now?

Your hands gently released his shirt, moving up to his shoulders, fingers threading through his tousled curls and drawing him nearer. You felt a delightful shiver on your lips as James exhaled a satisfied sigh and nibbled on your lower lip. You giggled softly, your fingers tangling further in his hair, pulling him even closer, savoring every second of the sweet, intoxicating kiss. James squeezed your waist a little tighter before reaching under your shirt. His fingers closed around your chest and you moaned softly into his lips, arching your back to meet him.

James slipped his knee between your legs, and you gently moved your hips, feeling the already wet fabric of your panties slide over the stiff material of his pants. James's lips moved lower, covering your neck with kisses, giving you time to catch your breath.

“Jamie... James... don't,” you whispered breathlessly with pleasure. His lips touched your sweet spot behind your ear and you moaned softly. James Potter will be the end of you.

“Yeah,” James said confidently in the area of your collarbone, quickly unbuttoning the buttons of your white dress shirt. James looked up at you for a second and you frowned slightly, not understanding what he was talking about. “Yes,” he repeated, looking you straight in the eye. “Yes, I like you, angel. Ever since you blew up our amortentia at potions,” you felt the vibration of his laughter on your neck when he left another kiss.

“But... but that was in the third year...” you whispered, not believing him. James liked Lily at that time, and probably still does. Sirius and Peter often joke that…

“Hmm...” James mumbled in agreement, moving lower, leaving light kisses on both of your breasts. "I couldn't confess ‘cause Sirius is my friend... you're his lil’ sister... and I was a fuckin’ thirteen-year-old loser who was afraid to even look in your direction."

You laughed softly, sliding your fingers through his hair, lightly scratching the skin of his head. James's hot breath burned your skin as his lips moved lower and lower down your body. Every new kiss is a new place. The cleavage. The ribs. Belly. Bellybutton.

"And then Lily brought you to us... and I couldn't just watch anymore... when you were so close... so beautiful... gentle... sweet..." James's lips touched the bottom of your stomach, and his fingers gently slipped under the elastic band of your skirt. But before he could pull it down your trembling legs, you grabbed his face with both hands, lifting it higher, connecting your lips. James Potter could resist anything, but not you. He could never resist you.

Kissing James Potter was like soaring through the sky, a rush of air that caressed your skin with a tantalizing chill. It was like the first warm summer rain, gently gliding through your hair, or the sun's rays breaking through after a long, cold winter, warming the earth with their tender touch. His kisses were like the living water from fairy tales—revitalizing and magical, making you breathe deeply and revel in the pure joy of the moment.

“As much as I would like to continue, but James...” you kissed his lips again, looking into his frowning eyes. Your hands gently stroked his cheeks, feeling a slight tingle from his growing stubble. "Sirius is coming soon and I... I don't want him to find us in such a-... such a compromising position." You blushed fiercely, your cheeks turning as red as a ripe tomato, and James’s laughter rang out once more. He leaned in to kiss you savoringly on the cheek, his touch both tender and playful.

His hand was gently stroking your stomach, and his knee was still moving slowly between your legs. You exhaled noisily, throwing your head back on the pillow, breathing heavily. Hips involuntarily moved to meet him and you squeezed his biceps with your hand. You whimpered when the pleasure became almost unbearable, when you wanted to feel something more.

“I think you're enjoying yourself too much, angel,” James whispered next to your ear, nibbling on your neck. You felt his hand slip through the elastic of your skirt, barely touching your pelvis. “Who am I to deprive you of this pleasure, pretty girl?”

You squeezed your eyes shut when James's fingers slid into your panties, gently tracing between your folds, smearing your arousal.

“Merlin... Jamie,” you muttered in a trembling voice, moving your hips towards his hands. You heard James chuckle, leaving kisses on your neck and collarbone. You were one hundred percent sure that his marks would remain in these places. And you would have objected if it weren't for the feelings that made you forget about everything. You moaned when his finger slipped inside your dripping hole. Your eyes opened and you met his brown ones, James left a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, look at me, angel,” James said hoarsely. “I want to see how good I make you feel”

You meowed and nodded, unable to say anything to him. His finger slowly slid inside your gummy walls, hitting that very spot, making you roll your eyes in pleasure. But you kept looking at him.

"Jamie... more," you said faintly, and he laughed, adding another finger, twitching an eyebrow, asking, "Is that better?"

You nodded your head, feeling a surge of euphoria. You've never felt anything like this before. Your fingers have never been so skillful and long to reach the cherished place that they make your whole gut cry with desire. James gradually increased the pace, making you moan softly, clinging to his shirt. You looked into his eyes, feeling them devour and memorize every emotion that slipped across your face. Enjoying your pleasure. His thumb slid over your clit in soft circular movements, and your body arched towards him with pleasure. You could feel the knot of pleasure tightening within you, on the verge of breaking free. Your eyes fluttered rapidly, and your lips parted in silent wonder. You tried to form words, but only soft, breathless moans escaped, betraying the intensity of the sensation.

“I know angel... just let go,” James whispered in your ear, and it snapped the last thread that was holding you back. You closed your eyes, moaning louder than before, feeling like you were coming. James was whispering something in your ear, continuing to pump his fingers through your orgasm, but you were over the moon with pleasure to attach any importance to it.

And a moment after it you felt empty. Breathing heavily, you turned your closed eyes to the guy who was grinning at you, licking your release off his fingers. You ran your hand tenderly over his cheek, trailing down to his neck, gently guiding him closer. Your body felt almost unresponsive, but your need to kiss him was overwhelming. You wanted to feel him, to lose yourself in the connection. As his lips met yours, you relaxed into the kiss, parting your lips lazily and letting James take the lead, savoring every moment. You could still feel the sweet taste of your juice on his lips and it made your heart flutter faster, giving reality to what was happening.

Your hand slowly slid from his shoulder lower to his chest, then to his torso and slightly lower, gently touching the buckle of his belt, but before you could even make an attempt to undo it, James grabbed your hands in his and pulled them away, shaking his head. You frowned, not understanding why he doesn't want you to bring him the same pleasure as he gives you. You wanted to please him. You wanted to do it for him.

“Not today, angel.” He kissed your knuckles, kneeling next to you. You sat up in front of him, your lower lip trembling as his hands began to button your shirt. You sniffed, not understanding what was going on. He wanted it as much as you did, didn't he?

Seeing your expression, James immediately cupped your cheeks in his hands and shook his head.

“I want you, beauty. Merlin, lovely... more than anything in this world, I want to take you right here and now.” James laughed hoarsely, shaking his head. “But like you said, I don't want Sirius or anyone else to get in the way, do I?” you were still pouting, blinking your eyes. James kissed you and joined your foreheads, looking into your eyes. "I promise I'll make it up to you, but later, ‘kay?"

“Okay,” you nodded, reaching for his lips once more. Having tasted James Potter, you felt an insatiable craving for more. With a playful smile, he pulled you closer, and you shifted to straddle him on the bed. His laughter rang out as he placed his hands on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze. Your hands wandered slowly over his chest, savoring the moment.

“So, there will be a next time?” you asked, playfully biting your lip. Before he could respond, you leaned in and kissed him, cutting off any potential answer.

You didn’t need a reply. In his eyes, you saw the same fiery intensity that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Now, James was the moth flying straight into your blaze. After tonight, there would be no turning back for either of you—both consumed by a fire that would burn without end.

thankx for reading <3

for all my lovelies who are waiting for james fluff i’m currently working on some fluffy stuff, so stay tuned!

and as always, you can share your opinion in comments or my inbox :3

- your santi 🪐

masterlist

#– santi 🪐#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter imagine #james potter blurb #james potter x y/n #james potter fluff #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x black!reader #bbf!james potter #james potter smut

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lilylovestowrite · 2 months

Note

Could I request Dr Ratio with a lover who makes plushies? Reader makes plushies to sell and secretly made plushie versions of him to cuddle. Poor Ratio gets a little jealous because he loves cuddling them.

WHY NOT ME? ୨♡୧

PAIRING ୨♡୧ Veritas Ratio x Gn! Reader

WARNINGS ୨♡୧None

SYNOPSIS ୨♡୧ Veritas loves your hobby of making plushies, but you need to stop cuddling them when he’s literally right there.

WORD COUNT ୨♡୧ 1.9k

A/N ୨♡୧ Thank you for the request! I actually make a few plushies myself! I’m a huge crochet girlie. Might post more on the crochet later <3

I thought it would be a rather funny part two to this fanfic!

Divider by @/cafekitsune

Ah, yes. Just Dr. Veritas Ratio, his loving partner, and their six foot tall elongated cat plushie.

The dead, beady eyes stare back at him as you slumber in complete peace. The rise and fall of your body from your deep breaths irritates him: how can you be so cuddly and vulnerable with that thing rather than your boyfriend. He could try and pry it from your hands, but the death grip on the cat and your stubbornness are of equal strength. A terrifying feat, if he does say so himself.

Veritas tries to be rational: you’ve been living alone for a while. Of course you have your habits that don’t really unstick. After your house was broken into, as your colleague, it was only natural that you move in with him since you can commute from the same place. It’s not like anything was going on. Well perhaps the tension between you two has always been more than tense, and there were a few makeout sessions in the faculty room. But your dating life truly began when moving in.

You’ve been dating for three months now. He’s never really sought the domestic lifestyle of making breakfast together, getting ready, coming back and spending time together. Veritas has always been chasing knowledge, and love has been placed on the back burner. But seeing your drive to teach students and revive the dead Sigonian language, he can’t picture a future without the two of you debating on meaningless quantum physics theories, or historical interpretations of ancient text. It’s not logical: if the two of you drive each other to improve, test each other’s knowledge, and most importantly love each other, doesn’t it make sense for you to be together?

Ergo, doesn’t it make even more sense for you to be cuddling him?

Veritas likes to think he runs purely on logic, but tonight, his pettiness gets to him. He rises from his place in your large four-poster bed and points at the cat plushie. “You bastard.” He hisses, and dives face-first into the silk pillows for some sleep.

A little childish, sure. But wouldn’t you be if your rival in love is a six foot tall elongated CAT?

Such a creature doesn’t exist. How ridiculous. He has to address this tomorrow.

“You’re getting upstaged by a cat, Doc?”

Perhaps Veritas should not have called Aventurine for advice on this manner. The way you and him think are extremely similar: disorganised, chaotic, yet strangely fascinating. So naturally, he’ll get advice from someone similar to you, right?

Well now he thinks he’s messed up. He frowns and runs his hand through his hair whilst hearing Aventurine let out the most ugly laugh he’s ever heard in his life. “You know what they say, two’s a company, three’s a crowd!” He squeals with laughter.

“I don’t know why I took advice from you. You don’t even have a love life.” He snaps, and Aventurine wheezes even louder, descending into silent laughter. Veritas hangs up and buries his face in his hands. He wants to tell you to stop cuddling that cat, but you’re its creator. Is it a motherly instinct to protect your craft? He does understand it to an extent, his own hobbies such as making sculptures, and he will wipe them down wherever he sees the chance. Perhaps, to get the message across, he should cuddle a statue? He shakes his head.

‘Ridiculous idea, Veritas. Zero points.’ The man scolds himself before returning to the blackboard to lecture his class.

You may or may not have a secret. Every night, you sleep with what seems like a six foot cat plushie, but right beside it, is a little plushie of your boyfriend: Veritas Ratio. It’s got his hair felted on, the lovely golden hairpiece he wears daily, and a lovely white wedding suit. Making plushies has become more of a hobby rather than a stress relief from your life as a Stellaron Academy Senior Professor, in fact, you’ve managed to make an online store and have sold some plushies to your colleagues. It’s a great hobby to have, the practicality and the feeling of satisfaction from completing a new project. But this one is… Slightly embarrassing. First of all, you’re not sure how he’ll feel about you making a doll of him. Will he think it’s like a voodoo doll, or think it’s creepy? Second of all, even though you’ve shoved your tongues down each other’s throats and lapped at each other like wild cats, for some stupid reason, you’re too shy to ask him to cuddle with you. Is Veritas Ratio a man who likes cuddles? Is he big spoon, little spoon, or too above showing affection? Will he stop sharing a bed with you right after? What if you snore in his face - then what? You’re not sure. You could ask, but even the idea of asking him makes you feel so weird, like, who asks if they want to cuddle? Are you a needy child? No. So you settle for a mini Veritas in hopes of not changing the dynamic between you two. Tonight, you settle in your bed, Claire de Lune playing faintly from Veritas’ phone as he reads to sleep. However, when you kiss his cheek goodnight, he glares at the cat plushie in your arms. It sends you into a mild panic: did he see mini Veritas hidden behind the cat? Worse, is he judging you for cuddling something to sleep? These thoughts plague your mind until you fall asleep, giving into your stress-induced fatigue.

“Gambler, they kissed my cheek and dove straight under the covers. Like they were allergic to me. You are all about public relations, so riddle me this.” Ratio sighs over the phone, toned bicep leaning on his mahogany desk at work. “And be serious this time, or I will religiously remind you of your single status.”

“Ouch, Doctor.” Aventurine’s buttery voice crackles from the phone. “Well, in order to know what people want, you sort them into what type of person they are. Sadly, you don’t work for the IPC, so you don’t get a file on your pretty little lover. But you’re not on a mission, just ask them what they want. No need to beat around the bush.”

“What if they think I’m too clingy? Or that I disrespect their work.”

“First of all, you’d be too clingy if they said ‘no’ and you still pestered them. Second of all, just tell them you love their plushies. You have them displayed all over your classroom, for Aeon’s sake. I think they know you love their handiwork.”

Veritas nods: “For once, Gambler, you have given me sufficient advice. Thank you.”

Now, he devises a plan.

“Love.” Veritas’ voice pulls you out of your crocheting trance. You’re making a bunny plushie with black yarn, sitting next to Veritas in the lounge, who marks his student’s papers. The evening sunlight pools in the hollows of his exposed collarbones, white fluffy robe lined with golden embroidery flowers (your addition) adorns his body.

“Yes, Veri?” You reply, looking up at him. You’re dressed in the same robe, and Veritas adores how much better white looks on you. Perhaps in the future, he would like to see you in a similar colour.

‘Stupid, get to the point.’ He hisses at himself silently. “About our sleeping arrangements…”

You look up at him, going completely pale. Has he found your Veritas plushie? Oh shit, shit shit-

“I was wondering if you would rather, well…” Veritas Ratio is a man of perhaps too many words, but for once, he seems to be tripping on his words. “...Cuddle me instead?”

You practically bounce out of your chair and corner him against the couch, “Really?”

That visceral reaction earns a rather strangled “Yes” from him, and you sigh in relief. His amber eyes scan your face meticulously, trying to read what you’re thinking.

“You know, I slept with a plushie of you instead, I was so nervous of asking-” You clap your hands over your mouth. You blabbed, like an idiot. And now he’s staring at you as if you were a fool. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“A plushie of me?” He asks, pointing a finger to himself, his baritone voice suddenly rising in pitch. “I thought you slept with that cat?”

“I-It was behind the cat,” you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, “sorry, it’s really creepy. I can get rid of it-”

“No, don’t.” He gently rests his hand on yours, unable to resist the grin. “You wanted to sleep with a copy of me? Why not ask me directly?”

“I didn’t know if you were into cuddling, so I just assumed…” Your voice trails off, and you suddenly realise just how ridiculous you sound. “I was shy, I’m sorry.”

“No need to apologise, love. Now, show me this plushie, and let’s cuddle.” He chimes. Suddenly, a gust of wind lifts a student’s test paper from his desk and it lands on his face. “Perhaps after I finish marking this blasted test.”

“Would you like me to mark the multiple choice papers?” His eyes glimmer, handing you a pen.

“The answer key is in the first drawer, help yourself.”

“Damn, not even the slightest bit of hesitation.” You grin. “Must be really desperate for those to be marked, huh?”

“Oh, hush.” He scolds you gently, tapping the tip of your nose with his red pen.

Claire de Lune permeates throughout the room, Veritas leading you in with his hand in yours. The night lamps on either side of your bedside tables emit a warm, golden glow that illuminates the lines of his jaw and accentuates the length of his lashes. He cannot contain the wide smile from spreading onto his face when he cradles the little Veritas doll in his hands: “Am I in wedding attire, love?”

Too shy to answer the question, you throw a pillow at him and he giggles. “He’s so cute. You should make a matching one of yourself, like a couple’s item.” He suggests, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you closer. You entertain the idea, wrapping your own arms around him and resting both of your hands on his back, the blades of his shoulders emitting warmth. It’s not too bad at all, Veritas thinks, the smile unable to be wiped from his face when he sees how easily you melt into his arms. Even like this, intimacy seems more natural than your little routine of hugging plushie Veritas. The toy doesn’t breathe like him, isn’t warm, and doesn’t vibrate every time he speaks when you rest your face on his chest. Both of your heartbeats seem to slow to a normal rate as you speak about your day in more depth. Eventually, however, the scent of pinewood and light cologne mix to form a homely aroma, lulling the both of you to sleep halfway through a conversation about ancient history.

A few mornings later, you find your Veritas plushie on his working desk at home. Right next to it is a small statue of the same height, but it’s of you in wedding attire too. “Veri? Did you make this?” You call out to him, and he emerges from the kitchen. Although a blush paints his cheeks, he raises a glass of coffee to the two plushies.

“I just wanted to have a reference for when it happens in reality. It’s only logical, right?”

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genericpuff · 6 months

Text

I'm sorry, but this should come as a shock to absolutely no one.

Just a little bit of 'insider info' (and by 'insider' I mean I was a part of the beta testing crew a few years ago) Webtoons has been messing with AI tools for years. You can literally play test that very same AI tool that I beta-tested here:

Mind you, this is just an AI Painter, similar to the Clip Studio Colorize tool, but it goes to show where WT's priorities are headed. I should mention, btw, that this tool is incredibly useless for anyone not creating a Korean-style webtoon, like you can deadass tell it was trained exclusively on the imports because it can't handle any skin tone outside of white (trying to use darker colors just translates as "shadows" to the program, meaning it'll just cast some fugly ass shadows over a white-toned character no matter how hard you try) and you just know the AI wouldn't know what to do with itself if you gave it an art style that didn't exactly match with the provided samples lmao

And let's be real, can we really expect the company that regularly exploits, underpays, and overworks its creators to give a damn about the ethical concerns of AI? They're gonna take the path of least resistance to make the most money possible.

So the fact that we're now seeing AI comics popping up on Webtoons left and right - and now, an actual "Webtoon AI" branding label - should come as zero shock to anyone. Webtoons is about quantity over quality and so AI is the natural progression of that.

So yeah, if you were looking for any sign to check out other platforms outside of Webtoons, this is it. Here are some of my own recommendations:

ComicFury - Independently run, zero ads, zero subscription costs (though I def recommend supporting them on Patreon if you're able), full control over site appearance, optional hosting for only the cost of the domain name, and best of all, strictly anti-AI. Not allowed, not even with proper labelling or disclosure. Full offense to the tech bro hacks, eat shit.

GlobalComix - Very polished hosting site that offers loads of monetization tools for creators without any exclusive contracts or subscriptions needed. They do offer a subscription program, but that's purely for reading the comics on the site that are exclusively behind paywalls. Not strictly anti-AI but does require in their ToS that AI comics be properly labelled and disclosed, whether they're made partially or fully with AI, to ensure transparency for readers who want to avoid AI comics.

Neocities - If you want to create your own site the good ole' fashioned way (i.e. HTML / CSS) this is the place. Independently run, offers a subscription plan for people who want more storage and bandwidth but it only costs $5/month so it's very inexpensive, and even without that subscription cost you won't have to deal with ads or corporate management bullshit.

Be safe out there pals, don't be afraid to set out into the unknown if it means protecting your work and keeping your control as a creator. Know your rights, know your power.

#webtoons #webtoons critical #hosting recommendations #anti AI #fuck ai

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alygator77 · 12 days

Text

♬♪ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : beat of my heart ♬♪

♬ pairing. college au // drummer! gojo x psychology major! reader (f)

♬ summary. being a psychology major with a passion for music, you're no stranger to chaos—between juggling school, caring for your mother, and working at a local music shop, you've learned to keep your cool. but when a cocky drummer pushes your patience to the limit, a chance encounter with satoru gojo—an enigmatic, sharp-tongued musician—turns your world upside down. as you're drawn to his dangerous charm, an unexpected connection deepens, but so do the secrets you've both been running from. will you get caught up in his rhythm before you realize it’s too late?

♬ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, slow burn, smut, angst with comfort, some fluff, readers mom has dementia, mentions of suicide, alcohol/weed usage, unresolved trauma, commitment issues

♬ words: 7.3k

♬ a/n. hi lovelies, welcome to the debut of this fic :) very excited to explore this dynamic between satoru and y/n, thanks for reading ♡

♬ taglist: open

series masterlist ♬ next chapter → pending...

ch 1 // the first measure

“Emotional regulation is defined as the process by which individuals influence the emotions they experience, when they experience them, and how they express them in response to different stimuli.”

Staring at the neatly printed words in your psychology textbook, your mind automatically begins to dissect the concept.

Emotional regulation. The holy grail of human behavior, wrapped neatly in clinical terms. It’s the ability to keep yourself in check, to craft a perfect mask that hides what’s boiling beneath the surface. The world only gets to see what you allow. If it were as easy as the textbook made it sound, half your classes wouldn’t exist.

Letting out a breath, you sink deeper into your chair.

People aren’t simple equations you can balance, after all—people are… complicated.

Emotions, even more so.

They ebb and flow like unpredictable tides, swelling when you least expect them, crashing down when you think you’ve regained control. They are messy, stubborn, and relentless—especially when the brain stops following its own rules.

Your mothers face comes to mind—uninvited. Her once-bright eyes are now dull with confusion, emotions flickering in and out like static on a broken TV. Dementia has stolen the filter that once kept her reactions in line with reality. It’s as if her mind is betraying her, one piece at a time.

You press your fingers against the pages of the textbook. Will any amount of psychology truly prepare you to untangle the complexities of the human mind? Can it allow you to help her—or at least understand her—before she’s lost entirely?

Before you can sink further into that thought, an ear-splitting crash reverberates through the store, jolting you back into the present. Glancing up with a sigh, the peaceful hum of the music store is shattered by the clumsy cacophony of someone abusing a drum kit like it owes him money.

Clearly, emotional regulation isn’t on that guy’s radar.

Yet, somehow, you’ve grown used to it. Working part-time here has taught you how to tune out chaos, as if the dissonance of the store has become its own kind of background music.

It’s chaotic, but it’s your kind of chaos.

The strings of guitars being tested, the pounding of drum kits, the chattering of customers—it all blends into a rhythm you no longer notice.

You’ve been working part-time in this quaint little music shop for so long that silence has become unsettling. If it’s too quiet, your mind starts wandering, spiraling into places you don’t always want to go. And so, the chaos is your anchor—it helps you focus, keeps you present.

Studying in silence feels foreign.

“Ugh… I have such a headache,” Utahime’s voice breaks through your thoughts, her hand pressing to her temple. Standing a few feet away, she shoots a glare towards the drum section. “He’s been at it for practically an hour now. Like… come on. Is he trying to destroy that kit or learn how to play it?”

Glancing up from your textbook, you eyes land on a brawny guy with jet-black hair, slamming away on the drums with no sense of rhythm, no control—just brute force.

“Has it really been that long?” you ask, blinking at the scene. The noise had faded into the background for you, becoming just another layer of the store’s soundtrack.

Utahime gives you a look that screams disbelief.

“You didn’t notice?”

You shrug.

“Guess I’ve learned to tune it out.”

“Tch… wish I could do that,” she rolls her eyes, rubbing her temples like the sound is physically burrowing into her skull. “That guy is killing me.”

Oh, shit. Now that your attention is focused, you notice just how bad it really is. It’s not just noise—it’s borderline offensive to music. He’s not even playing the drums—he’s assaulting them—completely unaware of the sonic devastation he’s unleashing on the store.

Utahime lets out another long, exasperated groan, her entire body sagging as she leans forward in defeat.

“I swear, if he keeps going, I’m going to snap,” her elbows rest on the counter, and she presses her forehead into her hands. “y/nnnn,” she whines, lifting her head just enough to glimpse at you. “Can you please do something?”

Glancing around the store, you catch the irritated looks of other customers—one guy near the synthesizers is glaring openly at the drummer, his hand gripping a set of headphones so tightly you half expect him to snap them in half.

It’s like the whole store is holding its breath, waiting for someone—anyone—to make it stop.

A sigh escapes your lips as you close your textbook. It’s one thing to tune out the chaos when you’re focused on studying, but now that you’re paying attention, the noise feels like an assault on your senses too. You can’t blame Utahime for losing her patience—though she’s never been one to take matters into her own hands.

“Fine, I’ll handle it,” you mutter, pushing yourself up from your seat.

“Oh, thank God,” she breathes, finally peeling her hands away from her temples. “Please, work your magic. Before we all go deaf.”

You roll your eyes internally, though you can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

Magic. Sure—that’s one way to put it.

What Utahime calls ‘magic’ is really just years of learning how to manage other people’s shit without losing your cool.

It’s not magic—it’s survival. A skill you’ve honed out of necessity, not desire. And sure, maybe your love for psychology helps—you’ve got the theories to back up the practice—but most days it feels more like wrangling toddlers who never learned how to grow up.

Taking a steady breath, you step into the fray, weaving through the store’s labyrinth of instruments and displays. As you get closer, the vibrations from the drums rattle through your bones, crawling up your spine. The sound is unbearable, like nails on a chalkboard amplified through a megaphone.

The guy doesn’t even look up, his head bent low over the drum kit, raven hair falling in messy strands across his forehead. His arms move with the rhythm of someone who has no idea what rhythm actually is, and the muscles in his forearms ripple with each heavy-handed strike as he slams the sticks down like he’s personally offended by the drums.

You stand off to the side for a moment, watching him have at it. You’ve dealt with a lot of difficult people working here, but this guy? He’s so oblivious to the fact that the rest of the store is on the verge of mutiny.

Clearing your throat, you raise your voice, hoping to break through his focus.

“Excuse me!”

Nothing.

Another crash of the cymbals, loud enough to rattle your skull. Your jaw tightens as you try again, this time louder.

“Excuuuuse me!”

Still nothing. He’s completely in his own world, bashing away with reckless abandon. It’s like he’s in a vacuum, utterly disconnected from the chaos he’s creating around him.

Jesus this guy… your patience thins and you step closer—close enough now to feel the heat radiating off him from his overexertion. His shirt clings to his back with sweat, and the muscles in his arms continue to ripple with each reckless swing of the drumsticks.

He’s not just playing hard—he’s playing like he’s got something to prove.

As you reach out to tap his shoulder, you try to keep your touch firm but not aggressive, although, the moment your fingers make contact with him, his entire body jerks—drumsticks freezing mid-air as he whips his head around to face you.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, sharp and filled with a flicker of annoyance.

“What?” he snaps, voice dripping with irritation.

Keeping your expression neutral, you try not to let his attitude get to you.

“You’ve been at this for a while,” you begin, as calm as you can manage. “We have a limited selection and there are other customers who may be wanting to try this kit.”

His eyes narrow, clearly unimpressed.

“So?” he drawls, waving the drumsticks lazily, like your request is beneath him.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you press your lips together in protest. Stay professional, you remind yourself. Shifting your weight slightly, you square your shoulders and look him directly in the eyes.

“So,” you continue, voice firmer this time, “store policy is thirty minutes per instrument. You’ve been playing for over an hour.”

A low, sarcastic laugh bubbles from his chest, the sound filled with mockery as he tilts his head back slightly.

“And… what are you gonna do about it?” leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees like he's settling for a show—eyes glimmering with amusement as his lips curl into a smirk. “Throw me out?”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek—every fiber of your being is itching to knock this guy down a peg.

Ugh. What a tool.

The condescension in his voice grates on you like sandpaper, but you force yourself to stay composed.

“Look…store policy is pretty clear,” you reply evenly, nodding towards the sign behind the counter. “You either give someone else a turn, or I’ll have to ask you to leave.”

Your words seem to pique his interest—his smirk widens, eyes flicking over you slowly, appraisingly. Suddenly you’re more interesting to him than this drum set. He pushes himself off the stool in a slow, deliberate movement, and you hold your breath the moment he towers over you.

He’s by no means, a small guy.

The light behind him is blocked from his broad shoulders, and there’s a new edge to his gaze now. The moment he invades your space, it is just a little too close for comfort.

“Oh yeah?” your stomach turns from the low suggestive timber of his voice, “And what if I don’t feel like leaving, sweetheart? You gonna make me?”

Ick.

This guy might take the cake for being the most difficult prick you’ve had to deal with here, and that’s saying something. Working in this music shop, you’ve come across a lot of full of themselves wannabees, praising themselves like the next big thing—acting like God’s gift to music when all they want to play over and over again is ‘Stairway to Heaven,’ and ‘Wonderwall.’

A surge of discomfort ripples through your body, but you stand your ground. You know how this goes—he wants a reaction, and you’re not about to give him the satisfaction of seeing you flinch.

“Look dude, I’m not asking,” your tone sharpens, leaving no room for argument. “This is your last warning”

His eyebrows shoot up in mock surprise, and a low whistle escapes his lips, as if he’s impressed—but it’s the kind of faux admiration that makes your skin crawl.

“You’re a tough one, huh?” he muses, chuckling softly.

Leaning in, the heat of his breath brushes against your skin as he invades your space once again—far too close for comfort—and you feel his gaze sweep over you slowly, lingering in a way that feels slimy and unwelcome.

“I like a girl with a little fire,” he adds, voice dropping lower. “It always makes things more fun.”

Gross.

Your hands curl into fists by your sides and you fight the urge to recoil as a surge of revulsion twists through you like a knife.

But before you can respond—before you even have the chance to formulate the sharp retort already forming on your tongue—the air shifts and a new voice cuts in.

“Wow, did I just walk in on the world’s worst pickup line, or are we about to throw hands over a drum kit?”

Turning your head towards the source of the voice, your eyes land on a tall figure standing a few feet away—his hair is a striking shade of snowy white, messy and untamed, falling in tousled strands that almost brush against the black sunglasses obscuring his eyes, and even with his face partially hidden, there’s no mistaking the mischievous glint tugging at the corners of his mouth—like he’s watching the scene unfold for his own amusement.

Despite the casual nature of his appearance—jeans slung low, a loose-fitting hoodie—there’s something undeniably striking about him. It’s the kind of presence that demands attention without asking for it

Who the hell is this guy?

Clearly irritated by the interruption, the drummer straightens up—his smirk faltering as he sizes up the newcomer.

“This doesn’t concern you, man,” he growls, tight with irritation. “I’m just having a little conversation with her.”

The snowy stranger’s grin turns sharp, though his voice remains light.

“Yeeeah, see, that’s where you’re wrong,” he steps up beside you, and without hesitation, his arm slips around your waist, pulling you smoothly into his side like you’ve always belonged there. “Everything concerning her concerns me.”

Your heart skips a beat, caught off guard by the sudden, possessive gesture. Part of you bristles at the boldness, but another part… feels oddly safe in his grasp—like he’s been by your side forever.

There’s a shift in the atmosphere as the drummer's eyes narrow—like the balance of power has tipped—the presence of this stranger throwing him off.

“Oh really? And just who the hell are you?” he snaps.

Your mysterious stranger doesn’t miss a beat—he chuckles softly, his sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his eyes—brilliant, vivid blue, and gleaming with a spark that teeters between playful and dangerous. It’s the kind of look that makes your heart flip.

“Oh, me?” he feigns innocence with a nonchalant shrug, like this whole thing is just mildly amusing to him. “I’m nobody special.”

Sliding his sunglasses back into place, he casually pulls you in a bit closer, and you are met with the warmth of his body as he leans into you just slightly.

“Just here to make sure my girl doesn’t have to deal with assholes. Y’know how it is.”

Your mind scrambles to catch up.

Your girl? You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks as the words rolling off his tongue begin to register. You barely know this guy—hell, you don’t know him at all—and yet here he is, acting like the two of you are something.

But…maybe it’s working? Because the drummer’s eyes narrow further, his expression twisting as a furrow darkens over his features. Ah…but then you realize he’s not focused on the claim your stranger just made—no, his attention is locked on a different word entirely.

“Asshole?” he echoes, voice rising with indignation, practically spitting the word back. Clenching his fists, he steps forward with a scowl twisting upon you face. “You calling me an asshole?”

“Well, yeah,” your stranger remarks casually, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He shrugs again, utterly unfazed by the tension mounting between them. “When the shoe fits…I mean, you’re acting like one, aren’t you?”

Pure rage flashes across the drummer’s face, and you can visibly see his fists trembling slightly.

Uhh… on second thought, is this guy even helping?

Now you’re not so sure if your so-called rescuer is making things better or worse, because clearly, the drummer is on the verge of snapping.

“You better watch your mouth man,” the drummer snarls, fury simmering beneath the surface.

But the stranger’s grin only widens, and he exudes a confidence that makes it clear he’s not worried in the slightest.

“Heh. That’s a warning I get a lot,” he muses, tilting his head slightly. “But y’know what? I don’t usually listen.”

It's a wonder the drumsticks the drummer is fisting haven't cracked under pressure, given how tightly he clenches them—his knuckles turn white.

“You think you’re funny, huh?” he growls through gritted teeth.

A low hum rumbles against your strangers’ lips as he ponders the question thoughtfully.

“I mean, I’ve been told I’m pretty hilarious,” he scratches the back of his head, like he’s seriously considering the statement, then, glancing at you, his eyes gleam with amusement as his sunglasses slide down the bridge of his nose slightly.

“Whatcha think babe? Am I funny?”

The question—and that pet name—catches you completely off guard, leaving you momentarily speechless.

But the drummer isn’t interested in the little game your stranger seems to be playing. His jaw clenches—teeth grinding audibly as his face hardens into something feral.

“I’m about two seconds away from wiping that stupid grin off your face,” he spits, taking another aggressive step forward.

Fucking hell, is a fight really about to break out at your work?

Your pulse quickens, and for a split second, you think he might actually swing at him.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” the stranger says, still grinning like none of this phases him.

He releases his hold on your waist and steps forward with a smooth, almost lazy movement, placing himself between you and the drummer. His hands slip casually into his pockets, posture relaxed, but the air around him shifts.

“Let’s pump the brakes, big guy,” he tilts his head slightly, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. “You’re welcome to try. But I’ll tell ya right now—” his teasing lilt diminishes, replaced by something colder, more commanding, “you’re not gonna like how it ends.”

His words—a warning and a challenge wrapped in one—hang heavy, and for a moment it feels like the entire store is holding its breath, waiting to see what happens next. Glancing around, you notice a few customers watching the scene unfold.

Fucking hell—this has gone from bad to worse.

And yet…the drummer doesn’t swing. He doesn’t move—doesn’t even flinch.

He’s seething—rage evident in the set of his jaw, the clenched fists at his sides—but something about the stranger’s calm, unwavering demeanor is throwing him off balance. It’s almost impressive, really.

No, scratch that—it is impressive.

You misjudged this guy. He might have walked in here like a cocky troublemaker, throwing out cheesy one-liners and pushing your buttons, but now? Now, he’s cool under pressure, defusing a situation that could’ve easily escalated into violence.

Body language often says more than words ever could, and his is completely in control—relaxed, hands in his pockets, not a single muscle tensed for a fight, yet there’s a sharpness beneath the surface—an unspoken control that demands attention.

It’s brilliant in a way. He’s defusing the threat without lifting a finger—a textbook example of how to manage tension without aggression. This guy is winning a psychological game the drummer doesn’t even realize he’s playing.

Their silent standoff stretches, until finally, the stranger breaks the silence with his smooth and almost disarmingly casual voice.

“Look, man,” he shrugs one shoulder with a nonchalance that seems almost practiced. “This is me giving you a chance to walk away with your dignity intact.” Tilting his head slightly, he gestures toward you with a subtle nod. “She asked you politely to stop. This is a store, not your personal garage. So maybe it’s time you pack it up and go before you make things worse.”

There’s a moment—a pause that feels like it stretches just a beat too long—where you can practically see the drummer’s gears turning in his head, weighing his options, trying to hold onto whatever’s left of his bravado.

Then, finally, he mutters through gritted teeth,

“Whatever.”

The word is spat out, dripping with frustration and barely-contained rage, and with a sharp movement, he tosses the drumsticks onto the kit—the wooden sticks clattering against the drums in a final act of defiance.

“You’re not worth it, and this place sucks anyway,” he mutters, full of aggravation, but his heart no longer in it—it’s clear his fight has deflated.

Turning sharply on his heel, he shoves past both you and the stranger with a forceful shoulder, storming toward the exit, and once the door slams shut behind him, the sound reverberates through the store with an unmistakable finality.

Just like that, the tension breaks. It’s like the whole store exhales at once—the weight lifting from the air as the distant murmur of customers resumes.

Before you can fully process what just happened, the stranger beside you turns his attention back to you.

“Well, that was fun,” he remarks, “Could’ve gone worse though. I mean, I didn’t even get to throw a punch. Talk about anti-climactic, huh?”

You barely manage to take a breath as he closes the space between you just a little more, his movements slow and intentional, and your heart flutters the moment his sunglasses slip down slightly, just enough for you to get a direct glimpse of his eyes. They lock onto yours—those bright, vivid blues—and for a second, everything else around you fades into the background.

“Seriously though,” he murmurs, voice softer now. “You okay?”

There’s something undeniably genuine in his tone, something that cuts through the playful exterior and lands right in your chest. You weren’t expecting that—this tenderness from someone who moments ago had brushed off a near-fight like it was nothing.

His eyes—soft but still burning with intensity—hold yours captive, and for a second, you forget how to speak.

“Uh… yeah,” you manage, “I think so.”

“Good,” he says with a nod, pushing his sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Because I think you owe me a ‘thank you’ for that stellar rescue.”

You blink out of incredulity.

Thank you?

So much for tender—who does this guy think he is? You nearly scoff aloud. He wants a 'thank you' for a rescue that, truthfully, you weren’t even sure you needed?

Unsure whether you’re amused or annoyed by his arrogance, you open your mouth to respond—but before you can say anything, he cuts you off with a wink.

“Kidding,” he says with a chuckle, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Always happy to help.” His hands settle into his pockets and he pauses, the corner of his mouth lifting just slightly. “Especially when it means I get to rescue a pretty girl like you.”

The compliment lands harder than you’d care to admit as you feel the warmth creeping up your neck and into your cheeks—betraying the fact that—against your better judgment—you’re not entirely immune to his charm.

A flicker of something stirs in your chest…

—nope. Let’s not go there.

Pushing it down before it can grow into something more, you refuse to let that feeling root itself.

You’re not looking for attention, especially not from a guy like this—a guy who flashes a cocky grin like he knows it works. The kind of guy who acts like the world bends to his whims.

Romance? No thanks. You’ve got bigger things to focus on. He’s exactly the kind of distraction you don’t need.

“Rescue might be a strong word,” you mutter, finally finding your voice again as you cross your arms over your chest. “I had it under control… mostly.”

“Oh, you did? My bad,” leaning in slightly, his voice lowers as if sharing a secret. “But trust me, that guy? He was one wrong word away from turning this into a full-on disaster. You’re lucky I stepped in when I did.”

You can’t help but raise an eyebrow at his comment, refusing to let him rattle you this time, and there’s a flicker of amusement creeping into your voice as you challenge him.

“Lucky, huh? So, what now? You expecting a medal or something?”

His grin widens—a grin that’s undeniably magnetic, but you resist being pulled into its orbit.

“Naaaah, I’m not that high maintenance,” straightening himself, he regards you with a slight tilt of the head. “But… I’ll take a coffee if you’re offering.”

You blink, momentarily thrown off by his response.

Did he just… ask you out?

“Wait, what?” you stammer, not quite sure you heard him right.

“A coffee,” he repeats smoothly. “Y’know, like a reward for my heroic efforts.” He pauses, just long enough to make it clear he’s toying with you. “Or is that too forward? I can settle for your number instead.”

You can’t help the scoff that escapes your lips—a sharp exhale that’s part disbelief, part amusement. This guy is unbelievable.

Nope. You’re not going to let him get to you that easily.

“I don’t even know your name,” you shoot back, lifting your chin just a little higher, “and you’re already angling for a reward?”

“Ouch, y/n,” he replies, placing a hand dramatically over his chest as if you’ve wounded him deeply—his grin, however, never falters. “That stings.”

You stare at him, your brows furrowing in confusion.

“How do you…?”

“How do I know your name?” he finishes for you, clearly enjoying this a little too much. He tilts his head. “Well, for starters, your nametag.”

Oh.

You glance down quickly and—of course—there it is, printed neatly on the tag pinned to your shirt, and now you are mentally kicking yourself for not realizing sooner.

“Right… of course,” you shake your head in mild embarrassment. It’s infuriating how easily he’s messing with you.

An amused chuckle dances on his lips and he leans back ever so slightly—hands in his pockets like he has all the time in the world.

“But that’s not the only reason I know you,” he adds, voice taking on a more playful tone, almost like he’s daring you to figure it out. “You really don’t recognize me, do you?”

You blink, trying to piece together where you might’ve seen him before. There’s something vaguely familiar about his voice…have you heard it before? Do you know him?

“I don’t…” you start, trailing off, searching for any spark of recognition, but you come up blank. “Uhh… should I?”

Flashing you a toothy smile, he's clearly delighted by your confusion.

“Ouch again. Double whammy,” with a dramatic sigh, he shakes his head in mock disappointment as his crooked grin curves up. “I guess I’m not as memorable as I thought.”

Your eyebrow quirks up at his theatrics, and despite yourself, the corner of your lips do too. Ugh. You want to be irritated with him but somehow, he makes it incredibly hard to be.

“Right… well,” tilting your head, your voice dips with playful sarcasm, “maybe if you told me your name, it might jog my memory?”

With a soft chuckle, he slides his sunglasses off and rests them on top of his head, and just like that, you’re greeted with the full, unobstructed view of his eyes—striking, electric blue, so vivid they almost don’t seem real, and they lock onto yours with an intensity that sends a flutter through your chest.

“Satoru,” he says smoothly, as if his name alone should be enough to make everything click. “Gojo Satoru.”

The name floats in your mind, like it’s circling around something, but still, nothing concrete surfaces. He seems so confident—so sure that you should know who he is—and it only adds to your frustration.

Do you know him?

Generally, you keep to yourself, both at work and on campus—with your moms condition you don’t really have time for the exciting college life. Tilting your head, your eyes narrow as you study his face—surely, you would have remembered someone like him... wouldn’t you?

“Gojo Satoru…” you test the name on your tongue as if saying it aloud might unlock some hidden memory. But still—nothing. “Sorry, not ringing any bells.”

Satoru laughs again, rich and unbothered, like this is the highlight of his day.

“Wow, I’m really striking out today,” he shakes his head in mock dismay. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

Before you can muster a response, he reaches out casually, plucking a pair of drumsticks from an endcap display nearby, twirling them between his fingers like it’s second nature. He examines them for a moment, then looks back at you with a raised brow.

“So, since we’re here and I’m feeling generous… how about you check me out?”

You glance down at the drumsticks in his hand, then back up at him—his expression is unreadable, that signature smirk lingering as if he’s waiting for you to catch up.

“...you mean ring up the drumsticks, right?” you clarify, though your voice is uncertain.

“Sure, let’s go with that,” he murmurs, and then, with a sly wink, he adds, “But I don’t mind if you do both.”

For a beat, your breath hitches, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes.

Okay—this is guy is definitely a flirt. You’re not falling for his trap.

“Wow… you’re really not subtle, are you?” reaching out, you snatch the drumsticks from his hand. “How many women actually fall for that?” you turn on your heel towards the counter, and he follows in step.

“Hmm…I’m not exactly keeping score,” he admits. “But let’s just say I don’t hear too many complaints.”

Glancing back at him, you arch an eyebrow as you approach the register—fingers automatically moving to unlock your cash drawer, and he leans casually against the counter beside you, propping his elbow on it—like he owns the space.

“Will say though,” he adds, voice dipping lower, “I don’t usually have to try this hard. You’re pretty special.”

You scoff, your fingers hesitating slightly over the keys, though you refuse to let him see how his words make a tiny flutter bloom in your chest.

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” you mutter under your breath, trying—and failing—to focus solely on the transaction.

Satoru hums, watching you with that same playful gleam in his eyes.

“Nah,” his tone drops to something almost conspiratorial, “you’re definitely one of a kind.”

Yup. He’s a smooth talker—and without a doubt, bad news.

Pressing your lips together, you force your gaze to remain on the screen in front of you. He’s playing a game, and you’re determined not to lose.

As you scan the barcode on the drumsticks, he casually pulls out his wallet to pay, and that’s when something catches your eye—a student ID peeking out from the clear pocket inside his wallet.

Narrowing your eyes slightly, your fingers hover mid-air as you get a better look. The ID is familiar—yet you can't make out the school’s name plastered right across it, but the logo and the colors are unmistakable.

Wait a second…

“We go to the same school?”

Satoru looks up, his grin stretching even wider and the glimmer in his eyes practically daring you to catch up—he’s been waiting for this moment.

“Took ya long enough,” he teases, playful but with a hint of smugness. “Yeah, we do.”

You blink, the pieces clicking together a little too late.

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demand, unable to stop the half-accusatory, half-embarrassed tone that underlines your voice. A groan slips past your lips and you shake your head in frustration. “I swear…you’ve been messing with me this whole time.”

With an amused chuckles, Satoru lifts his shoulders in a casual shrug.

“Hey, it’s more fun this way,” he leans in a little closer, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you. “Besides,” he pauses, tilting his head just slightly while his lips curve into a sly grin. “I like watching you piece things together. You’ve got this cute little furrow in your brow when you’re thinking hard.”

The intensity in his eyes makes your breath hitch, and no matter how hard you resist, there’s that undeniable flutter in your chest, warm and unwanted.

“How come I’ve never seen you around?” you ask, trying to steer the conversation back onto safer ground.

“Oof. You’re killing me, y/n. I pass by you every day, actually.”

You frown, narrowing your eyes.

“Every day? Where?”

“The water fountain,” he says smoothly, tapping his fingers on the counter rhythmically, just a light touch. “Y’know, where you sit and study. Every afternoon, without fail. I walk by almost every day.”

Ah. That’s why his voice must’ve sounded familiar. You probably heard him—another voice blending into the background while you were studying.

“Really? Guess I never noticed you.”

Resting his chin in his hand, a dramatic huff falls from Satoru's lips as they form into a pout.

“Jeez…you don’t quit. I can’t believe I’m that forgettable.”

You can’t resist the soft laugh that escapes you, despite yourself—it’s hard not to find his antics at least a little amusing, and though you’d never admit it, the way he’s so desperate for your attention is almost… cute.

“Maybe you just blend into the background too much,” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow while extending your hand, silently gesturing for his payment.

“Ouch...” he winces dramatically, pulling out his card before placing it in your hand. “Okay, that one stung a little.”

“Yeah, well… I’m sure your ego will recover,” you quip, glancing up briefly before focusing back on the transaction. But there’s a brief pause as you swipe his card—a silence that suddenly feels charged with something else.

You can feel his gaze lingering on you, heavy and expectant, and you try your hardest not to give in to the pull to look at him again—but the heat of his attention is unmistakable, almost like a gravitational force pulling you in, and you can feel your pulse quicken under his scrutiny.

“I gotta say, you’ve got a sharp tongue—I like it,” he murmurs.

Your fingers freeze for just a second, your breath hitching slightly as his tone shifts, and you can’t resist—your eyes flick up and he holds your gaze captive yet again.

“But it’s a bad habit, y’know,” he continues, his voice dropping, growing more intent as his eyes flicker over your features. “Not being aware of your surroundings like that...” leaning in just a fraction, his words become a quiet murmur between the two of you. “What if some creep tried to take advantage of you?”

The gentleness in his demeanor… is he genuinely concerned? It’s hard to tell—harder than you’d like to admit—and it’s easier to convince yourself he isn’t—that this is all part of his charming routine, because that makes it easier to ignore the subtle pull he has on you.

“Well,” you keep your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest, “lucky for me, no one’s tried. Unless…” tilting your head slightly, a teasing smirk tugs at your lips, “you’re secretly admitting to being a creep.”

Satoru’s laugh spills out, rich and warm, breaking the moment just enough for you to catch your breath.

“Nah, I’m not creep,” his voice lightens as he straightens up just a little. “Just a concerned citizen looking out for someone who’s too absorbed in her textbooks to notice the world around her.”

You huff, though the corners of your mouth twitch upward against your will.

“I can handle myself, thank you very much,” you quip back, determined to maintain control over the situation. In a quick, defiant motion, you grab the receipt and shove it into his hand, a small victorious gesture.

“Right, right. You definitely proved that today when I swooped in for the rescue,” he teases, and his hand brushes yours ever so briefly as he takes the receipt—a touch so light is sends a tiny spark up your arm. “But hey, what if you don’t show up at the fountain one day? I’m gonna have to file a missing person’s report.”

You can’t help but laugh at his ridiculousness, the sound escaping before you can stop it.

“A missing person’s report? Seriously?” you roll your eyes.

“Yup,” he grins, emphasizing the ‘p’. “You’re there so often it’s practically routine. Same spot. Same time. Every day. It’s kinda predictable, y/n. If I don’t see you there one day, I’ll just assume some creep finally got to you.”

You narrow your eyes at him, though you can’t help the faint heat rising in your cheeks.

“Predictable?” you retort, trying to sound indignant. “I don’t think so.”

“Oh, you are,” he counters, clearly reveling in your reaction as he slips the receipt in his pocket. “But hey, that’s not a bad thing. It makes you easier to find if you ever disappear.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes, a snappy reply ready on your tongue, but he’s already raising his hands with a dramatic flair, like he’s about to paint the scene in vivid detail.

“I can see it now: ‘Missing: Cute girl who spends way too much time by the water fountain. Last seen buried in a psychology textbook. Answers to y/n.’”

It’s impossible not to laugh again, the sound bubbling up as you watch him weave his ridiculous scenario with such confidence and flair. His eyes flick to yours, and a satisfied grin tugs at the corner of his mouth—clearly pleased with the effect he’s having on you.

“Wow,” you manage between chuckles. “You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“Mhm,” he hums in agreement, leaning slightly closer. “Gotta be prepared. I don’t want anything happening to my favorite water fountain girl.”

Your heart flips—and for a second, it feels like he’s given you some kind of title you didn’t realize you wanted. You try to brush it off, to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks, but it’s not so easy with the way he’s looking at you.

“Riiiight… well, lucky for you,” you manage, attempting to sound nonchalant, “I’m not planning on disappearing anytime soon.”

“Good,” he murmurs, low and smooth. “Because I’d miss seeing you.”

You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep the upper hand, though the small smile that tugs at your lips betrays you.

“Uh-huh. Sure you would.”

There’s a brief moment, just the two of you—his gaze still locked onto yours, when—

“Ahem.”

You jump slightly at the sound, turning to see Utahime standing beside you, arms crossed, a knowing smile pulling at the corner of her lips. She gives you a look—a very knowing look—that sends heat rushing to your cheeks all over again.

“I’m taking my break,” she says, her tone casual but her eyes dancing with mischief as they flick between you and Satoru. “So… don’t get into too much trouble while I’m gone.”

Suddenly hyper-aware of the tension in the air, you swallow hard and offer her a tight smile.

“No promises,” Satoru quips, that cocky grin returning to his face as he leans against the counter slightly—clearly unfazed by the interruption.

After Utahime saunters off, he continues smoothly, picking up right where he left off.

“So...” he starts again, “What do you say? How about you give me your number? Just in case I need it, y’know, for emergencies.”

He’s relentless, isn’t he?

Heat creeps up your neck as you blink from his boldness—with a soft, incredulous laugh, you desperately try to find your footing again.

“You really don’t give up, do you?”

That familiar and confident gleam glistens in his eyes as his grin widens.

“Not when it comes to someone as interesting as you.”

There’s a flicker of something in your chest—a flutter that you’re quick to squash.

“Mmm… sorry,” you murmur, tone sweet but firm. “But I don’t think you’re ready for that kind of disappointment. I’m really not interested in players.”

For the briefest moment, his grin falters, and something unreadable flashes behind his eyes—a momentary crack in his facade. It’s so quick, so subtle, that you almost miss it. But there’s just enough time to wonder if maybe you hit a nerve.

Still, Satoru recovers in an instant, his playful charm sliding back into place like nothing happened.

“That’s cold, y/n,” his voice light and teasing, though there’s a trace of something deeper, almost wounded, lurking beneath. “You really think I’m that kind of guy?”

Tilting your head slightly, you cross your arms over your chest as you study him—gaze sharp but not unkind.

“Yeah, well, I’ve met enough guys like you to know how this works.”

With a soft chuckle, and a smooth, almost lazy motion, he lowers his sunglasses from where they’re perched atop his head—resting them back on the bridge of his nose as the dark lenses now obscure his eyes from you.

He’s hiding behind them—letting them do the work of shielding his real thoughts. Huh. Typical behavior for someone who enjoys the chase but avoids real vulnerability.

“You’re quick to judge. I’m just a guy who knows what he wants. And right now? I just want your number.”

Classic deflection—you think. He’s not even denying it. Still... something about the way he says it makes that familiar flutter stir in your chest, and you hate it.

“Yeah... that’s not happening,” crossing your arms more tightly, you try to maintain control of the situation.

His hands come up in mock surrender as a small, amused sigh slips from his lips.

“Bummer,” he concedes, though there’s no real disappointment in his tone, only amusement. “But hey,” he picks up the drumsticks from the counter, “offer’s on the table if you ever change your mind.”

“Right... I’ll keep that in mind,” you dryly reply, knowing full well that you won’t.

“Please do,” he shoots back with that infuriatingly confident grin. “Besides, I’ll be seeing you around, water fountain girl.”

The familiar nickname brings an unwanted warmth that you attempt to shake off.

“I wouldn’t get your hopes up, Gojo.”

But Satoru just steps back toward the door, exuding that same unshakeable confidence. “Oh, I’m not worried,” he says with a cocky smirk. “You’re predictable, remember? I know exactly where to find you.”

You open your mouth, ready to fire back with something witty, but before you can, he’s already halfway out the door, twirling the drumsticks between his fingers with effortless ease.

“See ya around, y/n,” he calls over his shoulder, the door swinging shut behind him with a soft jingle before you even have a chance to respond.

And just like that, the store feels quiet again, as if the air shifted back to normal now that he’s gone. You stand there for a moment, blinking at the closed door. You should feel relieved that he’s gone, that the exchange is over, but instead, you’re left with this strange, restless feeling you can’t quite shake.

What the hell just happened?

Shaking your head, you exhale a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. There’s a part of you that’s frustrated—frustrated at how easily he slipped under your skin, how effortlessly he managed to unsettle you with nothing but a grin and a few flirtatious remarks.

You hate that you’re even thinking about it. About him. He’s just another guy with too much confidence for his own good.

But something about the brief crack in his facade sticks with you. That fleeting moment where his grin faltered, and something else—something almost vulnerable—flickered behind those cocky blue eyes.

What was that?

With another shake of your head, you push the thought aside. He’s a flirt. A player. The kind of guy who never takes anything seriously.

That’s all there is to it.

You don’t have time to psychoanalyze every flippant guy who crosses your path, even if there’s a part of you that’s still curious.

Just as you’re about to shake off the thoughts entirely, your phone buzzes in your pocket, snapping you out of your daze. You pull it out, glancing down at the screen.

Kyoko: Hey sweetie, just wanted to let you know your mom's been having a rough day today. She’s more confused than usual, keeps asking for you. Maybe you could visit soon?”

Reality crashes back in—grounding you in the weight of your responsibilities.

With a sigh, you run a hand through your hair, already mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead.

You: Thanks for the update, Aunt Kyoko. My shift is almost over, I’ll be home soon.

Focus. There’s no room for distractions—not right now.

Not with Satoru Gojo. Not with anyone.

a/n. thanks for reading the debut of bomh (or i guess the re-debut since this is a rewrite? hehe). i'm excited to explore a lot of topics in this fic, and rewriting it definitely helped rekindle my passion for this story. so, i'm looking forward with whats to come! hope ya'll enjoyed 💕 → you are currently all caught up ♪

taglist:

@gojoslefttoenail @satoryaa @ninjaturtletoes @murtabuckz @sorcerersseestars

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@lovebittenbyevans @kaemaybae @bloopsstuff

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cherry-leclerc · 7 months

Text

i hate you. i hate you? ☆ cs55

genre: humor, fluff, love confessions, childhood friends to enemies/rivals to lovers (damn, tongue twister), maybe a bit angsty (don't worry too much about it though, lol), flashbacks that add to a tiny slow-burn

word count: 3.5k

The dwindling friendship that comes crashing down when you get offered the opportunity of a lifetime. Leading to a bumpy road with your best friend.

req!... i swear that when i put angst ITS NOT BAD. anyways, enjoy, anons!

Me encantaría formar parte del equipo, you muse whimsically, pigtails flying against the winter breeze. Sería un sueño hecho realidad.

Despite being young, you knew you were different— came from a divergent background compared to those around you. Your family definitely didn’t have the resources to fulfill your dream to kart or race professionally. You partially blame your brothers for getting you into the sport.

Si. Lo sería, a particular Spaniard, agrees. You smile. Your parents share a pitiful glance before sitting you down. It wasn’t going to happen, not because they didn’t want to but simply because they couldn’t afford such an expensive hobby that would probably kick you in the butt.

That’s where your first guardian angel appeared. Carlos Sainz Sr. Better known as your best friend's father. Without a doubt, he offers to sponsor you, for he grew keen on having you around, enjoying time by the pool with his two girls and shy son.

Was there a way you could ever thank him? No, not really— nothing would ever cover all he’s ever done for you, but you’d make sure to try your best to find a way. Even if it took you a lifetime.

“You’ve known her for a lifetime! Probably five, for all we know!” Lando yelps, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t just call it quits on your friendship just like…” He snaps his fingers.

Carlos shrugs. He fills up a styrofoam cup of coffee, silently offering one to his moody friend. The Brit rolls his colorful eyes. You’re making a mistake, he presses. It’s the Spaniards turn to grow serious.

“Por favor—she should have thought about that before she stole my seat.”

That, you did. It wasn’t an easy decision to make. It could have never been, even if you had been warned. But suddenly you were getting an opportunity, the kind you only ever dreamt of. Carlos would be fine, he was a man who would eventually have a pile of teams interested in keeping him around. You, on the other hand, were surprised that anyone was even intrigued in having you form a part of their F1 team, much less— Ferrari.

This was it, and you had to grab at the opportunity. You just never imagined losing a friend along the way.

Why would you even consider accepting? You flinch and he’s looking as if he regrets it, so you give him the benefit of the doubt.

I know this isn’t what we were expecting, but think of it this way. I'd be coming in 2025 and you would already be too busy preparing to join Audi! It’ll work out. You’re still doing that, right? You knew he was, he had been so excited and told you as soon as he found out. Audi was in his blood.

He runs a large hand through his tangled hair, sighing. Still. You have to say no. You can’t do that to me. It’d be embarrassing.

Your shoulders drop an inch. Why? Because you’re being bought out or because a woman is keeping your seat? His silence is enough for your heart to break and for your mind to be made up.

I’m signing.

There is indignation, and then there is you.

“You are such a—argh!” Pounding your fists against the locked door, you reach out to briskly twist the knob, trying your best to get out of the cramped room. The world was spinning, and you could feel a migraine rolling in strongly, but you swore—swore—you would kill him as soon as you got your hands on him.

The morning had started off fairly simple. Show up, run a few tests on the stimulator, get to know a few of the mechanics you’d be working with, and finally, sign your contract. You had waited longer than intended, due to minor changes you had suggested, so you were extremely ready to get it done. This was supposed to be your day.

That is until the grumpy Spaniard pushed you, locked you in, and ran off before you had a chance to register what was going on. Fred had been adamant—show up on time. The next time he would be available would not be until three weeks, and that was ridiculously long if anyone were to ask. Carlos knew that.

Charles hums slowly, munching on a pack of M&M's when he hears the spine-chilling scream you let out, wood vibrating as you punch angrily. Hurrying over, he unlocks it from the outside, surprised by your appearance. Your hair is tussled, face is blotchy, vein throbbing. It’s definitely a sight to say the least. He mentions something about —he went that way— and —think about what you’re going to do— but you’re off before you settle with any of it.

The twists and turns make your head hurt, practically seeing red before you come to a halt. Smiling sophisticatedly, Carlos is sat, legs crossed, fingers pointing to his watch. No. “News for you, my dear friend; Fred just left.” The Spaniard winces playfully, already making his way out the door. “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

Charles was right. You should have thought about what you would do. Jumping onto his large back, your flimsy hands dig into the forest he calls hair, and pull. He screeches, swaying from side to side as he hurriedly tries to disconnect your legs from around his waist. Let go, he groans harder when you pinch his arm.

“Why? Why did you do this—any of this?” At this point you’re kicking and screaming, panting, heaving. “Is it really that difficult to accept it? You lost. I’m in, you’re out.”

“At least we know she’s a fighter.”

Coming to a sudden stop, your eyes flicker to the familiar voice, instantly burning up. Fred taps his foot gingerly against the white tiles, an amused Monegasque standing right behind him. Jumping off of the sulky brunette, you begin to shake your head in disbelief, pointing towards the exit. “N-no…you’re supposed to be gone. He…” Then it hits you. This was a fucking set up.

“While I’m evenly impressed by your toughness, I will say, I think we should put a hold on signing.” Your stomach drops. The older man quickly waves his hands in dismissal, grinning apologetically. “We still want you! Nothing has changed, but I think it’s for the best that you fix things with Carlos before doing so. It’ll be good for you two.” With that, he bows his head, and strolls away, heading for the airport.

“I’m out too,” Charles whispered, slowly stepping back. “Fill me in on what happens, though!”

As soon as your breath evens out—and Carlos creates a safe distance between you two—you let out a deranged chuckle. He almost cringes at the cold sound, but keeps his chin up high. “You did this all on purpose?” It’s a question but comes out more like a confirmation, which in a way, it was. Shutting your eyes, you tilt your head with a ghostly smile. “You knew he hadn’t left and let me make a fool out of myself. Why would you do that?” you grit, orbs laser focused on him as if you could light him up into flames if you really set your mind to it.

“Why would I not?” he stubbornly spits back.

“You asshole, I’m just trying to make your dad proud.”

A pinch of guilt dives deep into his veins as he watches you stomp down the hallway, mindlessly tugging at his heart.

I say we let him burn, Ana pitches the idea, laying flat on her bed as you scoff with a knowing smile.

Does it make me a bad person if I don’t disagree with you?

She sits up, eyeing where you calmly paint down on a canvas. She squints her eyes. “What even is that?” Holding your art with pride, you shoot a sheepish smile. Nice, huh? The Spaniard’s youngest sister giggles, nose scrunching up at the dark sight. “I’m confused—is he supposed to look like that?”

You curl an analytical brow, shooting a quick snarl. “I think it’s pretty good. And yes. He’s supposed to be getting run over by my future car. What a sight.” You dramatically swoon.

Ana drops her stare, focusing instead with a teasing curl gripping the corner of her lips. “Remember when instead of plotting his death, you’d be fantasizing about a life with him? God, I could still remember all the hearts—the glitter.” She shudders, faintly recalling the mess in her room, which led to Reyes giving you both a good scolding, but not before winking at a red-faced you.

Looking away feverishly, you shake your head, picking up the flimsy paint brush once again, never once bothering to make eye contact with her. “I was young. Stupid as shit. I can’t even remember what I loved about him.”

“Liked,” she corrects you.

You cough. “Right. Liked.”

If the Spaniard took the time to sit down, roll through a philosophical journey, wonder where things might have changed for him—it would have saved him enduring a puddle of dreadfulness at this very moment.

Ana’s wedding. The first of his sisters who would get married. It was a bittersweet day, and not just because she was finally leaving the family nest. “Who is she…” he can hear himself ask. Almost demand. The brunette smirks, slightly pleased.

“My best friend. You’re nemesis,” she jokes.

Carlos growls slowly, lightly pinching her cheek as she yelps. “With. You know what I mean.”

“Lalo. She met him a few weeks ago. Very nice guy.” A beat. “Please don’t ruin my wedding.”

But he’s not even listening. Brown eyes follow to where you stand straight, arms crossed over your body like a shield. He always knew you’d been self-conscious, but never understood why. You were stunning. Lavender dress hugs your curves beautifully. A trace of honey fills any area you fall into. Your hair is nicely pinned up, allowing him to enjoy your silky skin.

And it seems like Lalo too.

Rubbing a large hand against his smooth jaw—which was only neat since Reyes had hounded him to fix his appearance for his sister’s big day—he smoothly made his way over. Rupert warns the Spanirad with his eyes, but Carlos scoffs. Did everyone think he had something up his sleeve?

“Enjoying yourselves?”

Mid-sip, your face freezes, doe-eyes flickering between Lalo, then Carlos. Then Carlos, then Lalo. God, when did the room begin to boil? Your voice gets caught in your throat, to make matters worse. Carlos’ personal trainer pity’s you for a split second, deciding to help out. “The drinks are stellar, mate. We’ve been hogging the bar for so long at this point.”

The brown eyed boy studies your so-called date, faking a cold smile. “You don’t say…Carlos, by the way,” he says, extending his arm out. “Remind me of your name again, sorry, she’s just never mentioned you before. At all, really. I apologize.”

“That’s okay, we only just met a few weeks ago. We’re taking it slow.” We’re. The word itself makes the 29 year old fear he might puke right then and there. “Eduardo, but you can call me Lalo. Huge fan.”

“Mines or hers?” Carlos bitterly questions, thick lips forming a straight line. Lalo awkwardly clicks his tongue to the roof of his mouth, pulling away and leaning in to hold you close.

“Guess it’s my turn to apologize now. Hers. Always. But you’re pretty cool, too, I suppose.” His voice is light, unbothered. It makes Carlos tick furiously, though he doesn’t dare show it. You can’t pinpoint the moment tension rose up, snapping you out of your trance. Blinking hastily, you aim a sour snarl at the Spaniard.

“We were sort of having a good time, so…” You shoo him away with a jeweled hand. “I just don’t want to kill the vibes. You understand, right?” Barely giving him a chance to respond, you turn back to your conversation, leaving Lalo and Rupert to appear puzzled, but stupidly playing along.

With a raw click of the tongue, the 29 year old takes a step forward, leveling down to your ear. “Pretend all you want, but you’re still wearing my initials around that pretty wrist of yours.” And walks away.

It was true. Your parents had gifted you a lucky charm bracelet for your fourteenth birthday, and Carlos greedily beat everyone to it. A car, for your love for Formula One. A chili, a shy thank you for his nickname. An ice cream, well, because you just loved ice cream. And a cursive CS. For him.

Watching him walk away left you with a hole in your heart. You did not need a reminder like that on a day like this. Wearing it was purely out of habit, it had no meaning to it anymore. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. The need to use the restroom was a complete lie as you wordlessly peek for the broad Spaniard. You spot his glossy shoes first, sticking out the photo booth.

“Scoot,” you say, gently cramming him in deeper. Once you get situated, you slide the silver charm off, handing it over to him. “Here.”

He furrows his dark brows. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want anything tying me back to you anymore. It was kind—sweet—but that was past you. You’re cruel, mean, rude, a fucking jerk now. I don’t like that, so— here.”

“I don’t want it,” he retorts, curling your flat hand into a fist, forcing you to hold it tight.

“Well I don’t either, so what is there to do? You know what; I’ll just sell it. It’s not even that significant,” you mumble, already making your way out, but not before he hauls you back. Falling straight onto his thigh. You can feel your pulse quicken, your cheeks tingle, and your eyes suddenly burn. “Let me go,” you squeal, trying your best to weasel out of his grip. He groans, placing a large hand on either side of your hips, pushing you down.

“No. Just listen to me first.” Sighing, you nod. You should be climbing off; there’s room for two. He should be pushing you off; there’s room for two. But none of that happens as he clears his throat, rehearsing his words over and over before you raise a neat brow, waiting for him. “Perdón. Por todo.”

Not what you were expecting and he could tell when you let out a small gasp. Nervously, he licks his lips, admiring your plump ones that don’t lay too far off from his own. “I used to be so proud of you when we were just kids. When you first admitted you wanted to race too. It was adorable, the way your eyes lit up.” Your breath deepens, unknowing of what this was leading to. “But I’ve always been proud. That’s never changed.”

“You’re a terrific liar,” you timidly chuckle, patting his shoulder, making him back off a little. But he only ricochets forward, twice as close. Your insides churn.

“You don’t know how fucking happy I was when you got a seat. Over the moon. But I won’t lie; I was hurt and said some shitty things that have no excuse tied to them. I know I hurt you—I know that now. But that feeling vanished when worry came creeping in. I don’t want you to sign that contract.”

You flinch, reality crashing down on you once again as you examine the Ferrari driver. “Why apologize if you haven’t changed? My feelings aren’t a joke,” you whimper pathetically, tears sliding down your cheeks, soft brows drawn together.

He panics, gingerly brushing them away to the best of his ability and you don’t have the power to fight him off anymore. You’re too busy getting your heart broken once again by the same man.

She’s beautiful. Insanely—it’s insane. Her eyes are a shade of green I’d never thought I’d like.

I once wore a shade of green shorts last summer and you called them ugly. Said it looked like vomit.

Carlos sighs dreamily, dominantly shaking his head.

Well crap. I must’ve changed my mind.

Present him, was taking in your frantic sobs and he doesn’t know how else to calm you if it's not by rubbing your back gently. It takes a while, but you eventually ease up, occasionally letting out a shaky breath. “First of all, let me tell you why I did everything within me for you not to sign. It’s no good.”

You tilt your head in confusion, nose runny as he hands you his handkerchief. “I-I’m confused.”

Carlos chuckles. “What was the one thing I would always complain to you about when I was away racing?” Lack of privacy? “Okay, second thing I raved about…” When you don’t answer, he sheepishly wiggles his brows. “How tired I was with my team. It’s exhausting because like it or not—we’re not at our prime. I don’t think we will be for a couple of years. But for my benefit, I’ll be gone, and then it’s only going to fall on-”

“Me,” you finish, glossy eyes dancing through his painful expression.

He nods. “Listen, Charles will be fine. Mentally not, but he’ll do just okay. It’s you I’m worried about. Not only will you dive in, nose first into a world of ruthless men, but you’ll always be the entire blame. In their eyes, it'll be you. What did you do wrong? How could you fuck up? And sure, you might sometimes—it's inevitable— but other times you won’t. But you’re a girl, and that’s enough for the fingers to be pointed at you.”

Shaking your head profusely, you instantly reach up to catch your hair from falling from its tiring up-do. He helps you out, combing his fingers nicely, though this time it doesn’t get rid of the queasy feeling. He was right. God, why did he have to be right?

“I’m well aware of what I’m about to get myself into. But I think I can handle it. I can’t not do it—imagine how many girls it would help pave the way for? I’m sure as fuck it won’t be easy, and it might threaten my sanity, but I need to do this. And I’m sorry.”

An unfamiliar wave crashes against his warm eyes, a low breath being expanded into the air. You can feel it, taste it. Mint mojito. Your body told you, you liked it, with the way you wanted to lean in and kiss him—just to confirm. Pursing your lips, you continue. “You have your future decided and I have mine.”

With a hesitant bow, and a tide of curls flying forward, he clears his throat. “You’ve always been this way. Dedicated. And I could never decipher why. Until now.” He can’t help but brush his nose against yours. Your eyes flutter shut, allowing him to appreciate your pretty features. “If you’re sure, then I’m right behind you.”

You almost want to laugh, but are too scared to ruin the moment, so instead count his freckles. “I am…” A sharp inhale. “But what’s the second thing?”

“What do you mean?”

“You said ‘first of all’. I would assume there’s more…” You know there is, but you just want to hear him say it aloud. You’d seen the way he glared viciously at Lalo, chest firming. You’d seen the way things had shifted between you two, months prior, after his break up.

If this racing thing doesn’t work out, you would make a killer artist. He whistles.

Down boy, you joke. It’s just a swan. I resonate with them.

He sits up straighter. Then consider me a swan, too.

You laugh loudly, tossing your head back as he smiles. Why all of a sudden?

Just.

“It took me a while to get here, but I’m here.” He cradles your delicate face. “I think I love you. I-I mean I know I love you. Your stubbornness, your compliance. Your level-headedness, your intrusive actions. Your need to persevere and be better—even if others make it hard on you.” You giggle, poking his chest. “But above all, I love the way you made me work for it. I’m glad you did because how else could I have realized if you didn’t drag that dead-beat?”

“Hey! He’s nice!”

The 29 year old tsks. “Nice isn’t enough and you know it.” His pink lips graze over yours as you lean in too. “You’ve always been a smart girl…” He’s about to kiss you when you slide back, leaving him hanging. He clenches his jaw, seeming teased.

“I love swans because I know I can love as deep as one.”

“I can too.”

“And I know, you know, that I love you too.”

“I do know that.”

“And I lit you up on fire, but only on paper!”

His brows furrow. “Yeah, we can circle back to that. But I don’t care. I love all that about you. And I want you to know my father has always been proud of you.” He winks. “But never as much as me.”

“We’re doing this then?” you ask nervously. “Y-you’re still going to have to grovel. I don’t give up that easily. Especially after all you’ve put me through.”

Carlos gently nods, eyes adoring you. “I’ve waited more than a decade for this moment. What’s one more?”

And he kisses you.

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