#my friend likes sending voice messages but i LOATHE voice messages god

[maxillness]

Secret Love Song || LH44 x Russell!Reader

Warnings: 18+, unprotected sex, age-gap, degrading kink, praise kink, sub!lewis

Wordcount: 1.4k

“Oh, fuck. Just like that, baby” He moaned from above her. His hands were tangled in her hair as his back was pushed up against the door of his drivers room

“Your lips feel so good around me” He couldn’t stop praising her, even though he knew she was gonna be in charge when they got to her place after the race later

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this; saliva dripping down your chin, red cheeks, my cock in your mouth” His body was starting to sweat as he twitched in her mouth

“Just like that. Fucking hell, I’m gonna-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence before he shot his hot loath down her throat

She stood up as she swallowed his cum. He zipped his trousers back up before kissing her tenderly “I’m gonna return the favour when we get to your place after the race, okay love?”

“If you win” She kissed his cheek before leaving the room. They both managed to get back to the others without being seen leaving his drivers room

“Where were you?” George asked her with a hint of concern in his voice

“I was just at the bathroom, no need to worry your pants” She chuckled as she walked over to him

“I’m just looking out for you” He said with soft eyes

“George, I’m 20, you don’t need to look out for me anymore” He had always protected her through out their childhood, he was worse then their parents

“You’re right. I’m sorry”

Normally after her and Lewis had fucked or she would have sucked him off, they would be clingy with each other. Her lips would be all over him. On his lips, cheek, neck, throat, chest, stomach, anywhere they could be, they would be

But they couldn’t this time. Nobody knew they were together, and god forbid they ever told anyone, her brother would absolutely destroy him, both on and outside the track

I wanna kiss you so bad rn

She heard the ping of the message she had sent across the garage. She looked over to Lewis who had picked up his phone. He looked over at her before typing

I want to kiss you too love, but you know we can’t <3

She knew it was true, but what if they fucked with the rules? What if they stood in the corner and it was just a little peck before going back to talk to people they were talking to before

Win the race and my lips will be all over you ;)

She smiled as she sent the text. She looked over at Lewis who was blushing hard. He was talking with Bono who looked confused at him

She could hear their conversation, but she guessed Lewis’ excuse for his slightly red cheeks would be something like it was hot in the garage

It gave her some kind of rush, knowing she was the only one to draw this kind of reaction out of him

It also made her folds wet, but she would never dare to tell him that

She spend the rest of the day in the garage, sending him texts with either different kinds of praises, promises to fuck him when he wins, or wishes about the two of them

You’re always doing so good for me

You better do good on the track, Hamilton

I’m gonna fuck you dumb when you win

I’m gonna fuck your brains out

I wish you could hold me in your arms

I wish you could kiss me before your race

Every time she sent a text, she looked over at Lewis who would just blush harder every time, if that was even possible

Her brother had questioned her multiple times who she was texting, but she would always say it was one of her friends

Like wise did he ask Lewis, who said it was either his parents, his neighbour who was sitting Roscoe, or one of his friends

Stop sending me all those text love

Why? I can see you like them <3

She looked over at him, eyes went down to his slight boner in his trousers

You drive me crazy woman

At least I fuck as good as I drive you crazy ;)

He won the race, of course. I mean, if he hadn’t my won, maybe he wouldn’t get to fuck his teammates sister

“You need a lift home?” George asked her

“No thanks, George” She didn’t give him a reason why, but he brushed it off like he was used to it

“You did so good, baby” Her hand was on his inner thigh as he drove them to her apartment. His breath was heavier as her handed hockey closer to the place where he needed her the most

“Thank you, love” He said, his words almost getting caught in his throat. Her hand started stroking his thigh, making him harder by every stroke

They had barely entered the apartment when Lewis was all over her. His hands on her waist, pulled close to him as his lips were on hers and her hands were on his ass, squeezing him every so often

“Fuck, I want to return the favour, love” His lips traveled over to her jaw

“Then get to the bedroom, Lew” Her hands traveled him to stroke his sides

“No, I want you now” He backed her back so her ass hit the dinning table “Please” His hands went to the back of her thighs, lifting her up on the table

“Lewis, we should go to the bedroom” He had already gone to his knees as she spoke

He didn’t listen to her words, he instead proceeded to pull her closer to the edge of the table. He lifted her skirt up, giving him access to pull down her panties as she bucked her hips

She gave in, and let him do what he wanted to her. He threw her panties the floor beside them before spreading her knees, giving him more access to her cunt

He pulled one of her legs over his shoulder before darting his tongue out to lick through her folds

She moaned at the contact between his tongue and her clit. He flicked over it with his tongue as he entered her with on of his fingers

As her moans started getting loud, he inserted another finger “What wouldn’t your teammate think, huh? If he knew how you fuck his little sister” He hummed at her words giving her extra pleasure

She bucked her hips into his face, grinding on his tongue she came close to her orgasm “Fuck, baby. You’re doing so good for me” Hs Eleanor’s her head back, rolling her eyes into the back of her head “Fuck, I’m gonna cum”

A few more thrusts of his fingers and flicks of his tongue, and she came around his fingers. He rode out her high before pulling out of her and standing up

She got to the ground “The bedroom, Lew” He kissed her quick before going to the bedroom

She chuckled at his eagerness. She walked into the bedroom, seeing him already stripped naked and laid on the bed

“Good. You’re already ready for me” She smirked as she walked over to him

“I’m always ready for you, love” He said pulling her into his lap. She pulled her shirt off and unhooked her bra. She threw them both to the floor

She spit in her hand, and started stroking him slow. She lined herself up with his cock, slowly pushing him in making them both moan

“Fuck, you always fill me up so good, Lew” She smirked as she started moving. She loved hearing his moans and whimpers coming from him

“You sound so pretty” She kept praising him as he started bucking his hips up into her, meeting her thrusts

He gripped her hips tighter, slamming her down onto him. Both their moans were loud and heavy as they came closer to their orgasms

“You feel so good around me. Fuck, love. I fucking love you” He spoke between his moans “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum, fuck, please”

Her fingers went to her clit, circling it between her fingers. Her actions pushed her closer to her orgasm

“Cum for me, baby” He came into her, holding her down onto him. Him coming into her, sent her over the edge, coming around him for the second time today

She pulled off of him, going to the bathroom to get a damp towel to clean them both up. She laid down beside him, scooting close into him under the duvet

“I love you” He sighed holding her close kissing her forehead

“I love you too” She kissed his chest laying down hearing his heartbeat

[lalachat]

"And there you were..."

Author's note: Hey girl hey... I'm back! Im sorry for the prolonged time between these late chapters:( Fixations are weird and frangible things. You have one for a month and then get tired of it, but come back to the same one every now and then. That's basically what writing is for me... I know it may not be fair to you readers but I am trying my best because i truly love you guys... This is not the best thing that I have written for this story, but we are finally at the end! It has been a rollercoaster for us all. Thank you for those who have stuck with me since day one and thank you for those who randomly stumble upon this shit show of a story and send me sweet messages<3 I hope this is good enough xoxo

Summary: Crossing over the rainbow bridge is not what you expected it to be, especially when you're told you cannot stay long, but everything was worth it in the end.

This is for all my Lucien girlies❤️

Warnings: profanity, potential grammatical errors, and a happily ever after!

Word Count: ≈ 2,237

Chapter 11: You're my mate

“Who are you and where am I?” you blinked rapidly at the blinding light invading your gaze.

“Welcome my child, you know where you are and you know who I am-” the voice sent a warmth through your body at the raw power it held, yet it was still tenderhearted.

You blinked a couple more times to readjust your sight at the most ethereal woman you have ever seen standing before you. This cannot be real…

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” you asked.

“Not quite, I fear I have taken you too soon,” she gave you a soft smile as the realization hit you. Only one person could take your life too soon.

“Oh my gods, you’re the mother!” You bowed to her immediately, unsure of what the proper greeting was for a celestial being. She giggled.

“No need for such formalities, stand up my child. I have something I wish to discuss.” She offered you her hand which you gladly accepted. You felt a zing rush through you at the touch. The power she held was beyond anything you felt from Rhysand and the other high lords.

“Of course,” you smiled, “What exactly would that be? Have I sinned too much to remain here?!”

She laughed yet again, “You are quite the humorous one, and no, I am not here to discuss your sins. I want to discuss the mistake I made with your mate.”

You stood there in pure shock, “Azriel?”

“Yes, I wholeheartedly apologize for fating you two together. That shadowsinger never got over his self-loathing I’m afraid.” You looked at her puzzled. “You see, when I fated the two of you, I had hoped his self-destructiveness would disappear once he met you,” she smiled at you again as you listened, “that was until Elain Acheron had stepped in and took that place before you ever could.”

“Believe me mother, I am well aware…” you sighed. “I tried so hard,” tears began to form in your eyes.

“Oh my love, I know you did, and this is all my fault. I am sorry for causing you so much suffering. It is clear to me now that I should have fated you to someone else,” she gave you her hand again, “Come walk with me.”

She led you hand in hand over to a cauldron. She waved her hand over it to reveal your friends still circled around your body, only this time a certain auburn-haired male began to awake.

“LUCIEN!” You wept at the sight of his chest rising and falling again, “He’s alive!”

The mother nodded, “I brought him here and sent him back, just like I am about to do with you.”

“I don't understand, why bring us both here in the first place if we are only going to be sent back?” You watched as your friends noticed Lucien’s movements as you still lay there cold.

“Because my child, I have been watching you for quite some time and realized that your love without a bond for another male grew stronger than any completed bond I have ever seen.”

“That’s not possible- nothing is stronger than a completed bond,” you looked at her and shook your head in disbelief.

“I never thought something like this would happen but you two have proven me wrong. You both have just done the impossible,” she smiled at you, and she took hold of both of your hands, “That male loves you more than anything.” Her thumbs caressed the small marking along your wrists, your eyes followed the movement as you chuckled.

“So, what’s going to happen to now?” you looked up at the creator of everything you knew.

“I am going to send you back,” she kissed the top of your forehead and you felt something inside you shift, “I am sorry for taking you both too soon, but it had to be done. I have now made things the way they should be,” she smiled as she gestured to the cauldron.

“What?” you looked at her in disbelief.

“Step into the cauldron, it will take you back to your loved ones.”

You looked in to see Lucien now trying to wake you as the others watched in awe of his liveliness, “Lucien did the same thing?”

“Yes,” she nodded as you began to slowly step your way into the cauldron. You were waist in before you stopped abruptly as anxiety ate at you to ask a certain question.

“I won’t have any special powers like Feyre, Nesta, and Elain right?”

“No, this is different than their rebirth. You will have no power; you will remain as you were before.”

“Good, that’s good. Powers would have been cool though,” you smiled as you submerged the rest of yourself into the sacred artifact. Just before your ears went under you could hear the mother say something to you before you left.

“Everything is alright now, I love you my child. You have made me proud.”

You smiled as the liquid surrounded you and sparkled against your skin. It almost looked like Starfall which made you smile reminding you of home. You were heading back home! You felt your body tense like it was being winnowed back to your reality. It was a weird sensation, but you could slowly feel the memory of the mother and everything she had done for you fade as you passed through a barrier.

“Y/n!” you could hear someone crying out your name. You were trying to regain your senses as firm hands caressed the hair out of your face. One of their tears fell onto your cheek. It almost felt hot. Your eyes squinted at the feeling.

“Lucien look!” Someone cried out, as Lucien’s eyes scanned over your face slightly scrunching up at the foreign feeling of a tear that was not your own on your face. He let out a small, relieved gasp.

“Y/n?” He wiped off his tear that had fallen as he saw your chest take a deep inhale, “Oh my gods!” He wept, “You’re alive… you’re alive!”

His hands caressed your own, trying to give your cold skin more warmth. Azriel letting some of his own tears fall at the sight of you breathing again, Elain was rubbing small circles on his back in comfort. Mor and Feyre’s hands covered their mouths in shock at the events unfolding before them as tears of joy left their eyes. Nesta had let out a much-needed breath she didn’t know she was holding as she smiled at the two of you breathing again. Cassian thanked the mother repeatedly as Rhysand grabbed Feyre’s hand with tear filled eyes.

You began to wiggle your toes and fingers, getting used to the feeling of yourself again as you opened your eyes to see Lucien with the biggest smile you have ever seen from him.

“Lucien?” you questioned. Your mind was foggy, unable to really remember anything except the fact the last time you saw him he was dead.

He pressed your hands to his lips, “I’m here…”

You began to cry, “You’re alive!”

He nodded his head as he pulled you into his chest, “And so are you!”

You wrapped your arms around him in an instant, “Don’t ever leave me like that again!”

“Like hell I would live in a world without you,” he smiled as he cupped your face and kissed you tenderly. It’s right then you felt something trying to ignite inside your chest, no restraints or walls were holding it back as it set your soul aflame. You pulled away from Lucien and looked at him in amazement as you sent that flame to where it was trying to pull itself to. Lucien’s eyes widened as he slowly felt his empty chest cavity burst into life filled with everything you were sending his way. Love. Passion. Trust. Protectiveness. He couldn’t but help but smile as he got to say these words again knowing he would be complete, “You’re my mate!”

You let out a laugh of relief at the words, “Mates,” as you kissed him so hard you both fell back into the earth beneath you.

“That’s impossible,” Azriel said in disbelief. Elain’s face was ghost white.

“Well brother, the mother can work in mysterious ways,” Rhysand smiled at you finally getting your happy ending.

Lucien pulled away from you breathless, “I love you.”

You gave him a toothy grin and kissed him once more, “I love you!”

The wind kissed your skin as you both got up off the ground hand in Lucien’s. The presence of the wind almost felt familiar to you. You looked up at your mate and saw he had the same expression. Both of you looked at each other before you both whispered a soft thank you into the wind to let it be carried away to wherever it was headed as your friends began to crowd you both. Feyre ran into Lucien’s outstretched arms as Mor crashed into yours.

“Oh gods I am so happy you’re alive!” Mor cried.

“I think that was enough bonding for a lifetime,” you laughed as you cried with your best friend.

“I am just glad you are okay!” she smiled as she let Feyre hug you next. She looked over to Lucien and gave you a warm smile, “I am so happy for you both, take good care of him.”

Rhysand and Cassian pulled you into a big group hug.

“What even happened? I saw you both die!” Cassian kissed your cheek fondly.

“I don't even know… I wish I could tell you both, but I'm just happy I get to keep my favorite bat boys around,” you laughed as Rhysand kissed your other cheek.

“Like I said to Az, the mother works in wonderous ways.” As they pulled you back into another huge hug.

“Stop you’re going to pop me!” you laughed as a pair of footsteps approached you. You looked up to see Azriel. He looked at you guiltily and you felt nothing towards the male. No hate, no resentment, no longing, no nothing. You took a deep breath as you said, “Bring it in Azriel, it’s alright…”

Azriel carefully joined the group hug, “I am so sorry…” you and the others just hugged each other tighter as a response. You heard a cough from outside the circle as Elain stood before you. Rhysand and Cassian gave you one last hug before they walked over to Lucien and the others. Leaving you with Azriel and Elain.

“Y/n if I had only known…” Elain’s voice trailed off. Their presence was a little much for you after knowing what they both caused, but without them you wouldn’t have your mate.

“Look, everything that happened between us is a lot to digest and it's overwhelming me right now, but I am willing to look forward and have a fresh start, just give me time.” You gave them both an awkward smile as you walked off to the others who were all showering Lucien in hugs like they had done with you earlier. The sight of it made you smile.

“Be careful with him! I just got him back,” you teased as everyone looked towards you.

“We just got you both back,” Feyre said with a soft smile, “Tonight we celebrate you both and your new bond!”

“Just don't feed him anything until we're gone,” Cassian quipped as he clapped Lucien on the shoulder. Lucien rolled his eyes at the comment as Mor whispered into your ear, “and when you do, you still owe us girls a story after all.” She winked as your face grew hot at the talk of the act of completing the bond together.

“Calm yourself darling, we have plenty of time for that later,” Lucien pulled you into his side, “Let’s celebrate with our friends yeah?”

“Fine, I guess we can let loose a little to celebrate beating death and finding our bond.” You smiled.

“Well, what are we waiting for?! Let’s go party! I’m ready to let loose after everything that just transpired,” Mor said as everyone left to go back inside. Lucien pulled you aside before you both walked in and pushed you against a wall as he kissed you with fiery passion.

“As soon as that little party is over, I am going to fuck you into the bed, wall, desk,” he began to kiss your neck as the fresh bond between you hummed in your chest, “Any surface that I can take you on till we’re both burning this court into ashes with our love.”

You moaned at his words, “You promise?”

“If that is what my mate wants,” as he stared into your eyes as you traced your fingers down his back.

“Only if mine is willing to live up to his words,” you smirked up at him.

“Oh y/n, you are going to regret doubting me,” he said before he gave you one last kiss on the lips before offering you his hand to lead you into the house where all your friends awaited to celebrate your miracle.

You giggled as you grabbed his hand and said, “I love you so much Lu.”

“I will never get sick of those words. I love you too,” he smiled down as your intertwined hands, “You really should get those tattooed.”

“Give me a few more like them and I will,” you teased pulling Lucien inside as he let out a small groan at the thought. Both of you eager to celebrate with your friends, and to finally be able to love each other fiercely for the rest of your lives.

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[ilygetou]

WEEK TWO DAY ONE | NON CON + DEGRADING. FT. ARMIN ARLERT.

PAIRING: armin alert x fem! reader.

C/W: non consensual, creampie, degrading, slight brat-taming, mean! armin, cursing, kinda of ooc cause armin is very sweet & nice but he's very mean here, MINORS DNI!!

N0TE: bro this is kinda rushed + i'm slowly starting to lose motivation for kinktober since my posts aren't appearing in the tags.

P.S: not much degrading, since i forgot this was supposed to have so much degrading in it, sorry for the girlies that have a degrading kink and have been waiting for this, i failed you </3

armin was tired of it. he was tired of you using him. he was so tired of you talking to him just for work.

notes? armin. homework? armin. classwork? armin. projects and assignments? armin.

“armin, homework?” you would always ask to copy form him and he always answers you with a grin on his face, his eyes soft as he hands you the work. even though, deep down, armin was filled with hatred and loathe.

armin is disgusted by you, armin hates you.

but always late at night, armin would find himself fisting his cock to the thought of you, getting off to the thought of you sucking his cock.

armin was more disgusted by himself than you, how can he get aroused by a girl like you? a girl that doesn‘t care about her friends or anyone‘s feelings – a girl who only cares about herself and doen‘t even know what’s happening around her, a girl who uses others to benefit for herself.

but still, everyday, every single fucking day, armin would be stroking his cock while he scrolls through your instagram and zooms on pictures of you with your cleavage out, your ass, zooms on your panties when you have your legs slight apart or when you’re wearing a short skirt revealing your panties to anyone who prays attention to the photo. armins least favorite part was the comment section, opening the comments just to find a bunch of men thirsting over you, along with his friends too.

he would always grip his phone with anger, and immediately log out of his account.

today, as soon as armin finished masturbating a sudden text from you popped up in his notifications.

“todays notes? pretty please :(”

armin huffs in annoyance, all of his hatred towards you comes running straight back. but armin still obliges, sending you an “ok :)” and then sending you the notes right after, without any hesitation.

but after days passed, armin started actually getting sick of you. why don’t you ask someone else for the notes? why don’t you pay attention in class? he was tired of it.

armin started ignoring you, his phone was blowing up with message from you and armin thanked god that you guys got a week off otherwise he probably won’t handle your whining and complaining.

this led you to showing up to armins doorstep, banging on his apartment door. “armin! s’ me!” and he would immediately recognize your voice, armin would let out a scoff as he gets up from his desk to unlock the door. And as soon as he does, you were met with a exhausted looking armin, eye bags under his eyes indicting that he has been studying the whole week with no rest at all.

without wasting a second, you invited yourself into his apartment, “what? do you need anything?” armin said, nonchalantly. a quick fake pout covered your face, “whaat? are you not happy to see me?” you whined to which armin clicked his tongue at.

you quickly brushed it off and went straight to the reason on why you’re here; “why haven’t you been answering my messages?” you said with your phone in your hand, shaking it in your hand while having the chat between you and armin open – showing him how much you’ve been spamming.

“m’ busy,” armin quickly said to which you frowned at, “busy doing what?” to which armin quickly response with; “studying.” you let out a scoff, “yeah right, for a whole week?” armin shrugged to which you clenched your fists at, “busy studying y/n, i don’t have time unlike you” you felt anger boil up inside you by armins words, “i’m busy too!” armin let’s out a chuckle, “busy doing what? busy partying? busy sleeping with a new man every day?” your eyes widened, “what the fuck, armin?”

armin walked back to his desk – he seated himself on his chair, and held his pen in-between his fingers, “do you need anything, y/n?” you almost wanted to say no but who else would send you the notes other than armin? “yeah, need you send me all the notes from last week,” a small smirked formed on the corner of armins lips he placed his hand on his chin before he started speaking.

“sure, i’ll send you the notes” a smile of victory covered your face before armin started speaking again, “but, only if you let me have s-sex with you” armin stuttered – his shy personality still there. your smile immediately dropped when you heard armin, “with you? you’re probably a virgin” you chuckled before armin got up from his place and cornered you between the wall.

“i am?” it was armins turn to laugh, his hands roamed your body, “do you want the notes or not?” armins hand slowly made their way under your shirt – making contact with your breasts. “i-i do!” your breathe hitched, your eyes widened. the armin right now, is a different armin.

armin tucked down your shirt, your tits bouncing from the impact, “no bra?” armin snickered before he started toying with them, pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying your reactions. as you squirm underneath him.

his hand making their way downwards, toying with the end of your underwear. his pointer finger rubbing your cunt from above the fabric, creating a wet damp on your panties. “oh? you’re enjoying this? what a slut.”

you shook your head, “no, not a slut” you managed to let out – armin gripped your hair, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “don’t lie y/n, don’t even try to deny it. i see you throwing yourself at a new guy every day, pressing your breasts against him as you ask for help with your homework later at your place just for it to end up with you stuffed full of his cock, am i right?” for armin, that was just guess. everything he said was a guess. but he knew he was right when he saw how your eyes widened at his words.

“seems like i’m right” he whispered into your ears, you were slightly trying to break free from armins grip on you – but he was way too far stronger than you. “don’t even try,” armin was staring at you from above, his eyes full of hatred.

armin carried you and then seated you on his desk, pushing his books and papers aside. armin forcefully spread your legs apart, “s-stop..” armin shushed you – a wide evil smirk on the corner of his lips, armin pulled your panties before he let’s go of them, watching as they snap back to your aching cunt “this thing is in my way,” armin spoke – referring to your white panties that was keeping armin away from your slicked cunt.

without any hesitation, armin ripped your panties, causing you to let out a gasp — “what the fuck! n-no!” armin let out a light chuckle at your reaction, his blonde hair covering his eyes as he laughed at your weak state.

your dripping cunt was on full display for armin, your wet folds and your tight hole fully exposed for armin to see. armin’s cock throbbed in his pants as he stared at your pussy, he licked his lips before he tugged down his pants, his cock sprung out, causing you to slowly back away.

“want you to help me” armin slurred, you shook your head, repeating “no” as armin got closer to you. “you can’t say no, no isn’t an option.” tears started to swell up at the corner of your eyes and armin could almost feel bad, but the memory of you using him encourages him to continue his vile acts.

armin gave his cock a few strokes before lining it up your entrance, teasing your cunt by pushing his length in and slowly slipping it out — his tip nudging your clit which made you cover your mouth to stop any sounds from slipping. armin then forcefully shoves his cock deep within your pussy, a groan follow right after. “pussy so warm” armin said as he slowly starts thrusting into you.

armin dick was dragging along your velvet colored walls, his thrusts slow and gentle, not breaking his rhythm. “already so obsessed with this slutty pussy, so tight & warm, fuck.” armin uttered. armins thrusts slowly turned into rough-fast thrusts, his hips bucking into you aggressively.

you finally decided to give up and let your moans fall from your lips as armin continued to ruin & abuse your pussy with his mean, rough thrusts. “you like this, don’t you? always having different men use this pussy of yours, s’ finally my turn” armin spat. slight groans left armin as your cunt fluttered around his dick, deliciously.

while armin was whispering degrading words into your ears, he was getting closer & closer to his climax. “oh fuck, getting close, shit.” his dick was hitting your deepest spot, that spongy spot that made you feel so good and made you moan out loudly.

your cries mixed with your moans had armins cock twitch inside your cunt, “ah — fuck!” armin hisses, his thrusts not losing their rhythm, despite turning messy and sloppy.

“g’nna cum, fuckfuck!” armin let out a loud muffled moan as he emptied his balls, deep inside your pussy. his hot spurts making you feel so full.

armins breath hitched, letting out low pants. as soon as armin settled down from his high orgasm, he pulled out of your cunt, slowly. his semen dripping from your entrance and ruining the desk.

armin hummed in satisfaction, a smile of victory on plastered on his face. your messy cunt, your crying face, that was all caused by armin.

armin was proud of himself.

“maybe, you’re g’nna have to do this everytime you want something from me, how about that?” armin questioned in delight. you couldn’t respond, just sobbing silently.

“will take this as a yes, now go on & get yourself cleaned — don’t wanna have you staying here for too long.” armin was ready to leave before he adds on; “ah, also, will send you the notes later, thank you for entertaining me for a bit.” you watched as armin left to clean himself in the bathroom, causing you to cry much harder.

no matter how much you cry though, armin was certain that you will be coming back here, crawling. begging him to send you all the work.

[certifiednatelover]

Seeing stars-C.Sturniolo PART 1!

Songs that i recommend listening to while reading this series:

Where is my mind?-pixies

Runaway-lil peep

No more tears- Ozzy Osborne

Warnings:NSFW. If you are a minor or are uncomfortable with this topic DNI! Some angst? Fluff at the end! Lots of dialog. use of Y/n.

(NSFW IS THE OTHER PARTS)

Any disrespect and bullying towards me or my followers/readers will be BLOCKED!

English isn't my first language so I'm sorry in advance if my spelling+grammer isn't good!

no proofread!

words:1266

Key:

Y/n: Red

Chris: Orange

Nick: Purple

Matt: Blue

Olivia: Green

Others: Pink

Y/NS VIBE:

Summery: Y/n fall's in love with the schools biggest player, Chris Sturniolo. But what happens when he falls harder?

Chris's POV:

My phone rang for the 100th time today; Olivia's been bombarding me with questions about why I didn't go to her sweet 16. I open up one of her voice messages and I cringe as soon as I hear her high-pitched voice.

"Hey, bub. Why didn't you come to my birthday? I picked out an outfit just for you and you didn't come!"

God, that voice made me want to drive Matt's car off a bridge. I never understood why I chose Olivia. Hell, I could have any girl I want from our so-called "school" and I chose her. All the guys in my grade are drooling over her but oh, Jesus, they should run 1000 miles away from that woman.

I opened one message after another and they where all the same, some of them saying "you'll never find someone like me" and some "please come, I miss you, hun". Miss me my ass. The last time she missed me was when she was drunk at a club and she needed me to drive her back home.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

y/n's POV:

School has never been on my list of favourite things. Its probably the opposite. I put on one of my old band shirts and some baggy shorts. I'm not poor but I'm not necessarily rich, My parents work aboard a lot so I get the apartment to myself for months on end.

There are multiple groups in my school, I'll name them out for you.

1: Band kids

2: The stanley obsessed kids

3: The lacrosse players

4: Goths

5: Academically smart people

Yeah, that cliché shit. I'm one of the "band kids". Our school doesn’t really have bullying but we have DRAMA. Lots and lots of it, actually, It's mostly the Stanley obsessed kids and the lacrosse players that start it. I think you can guess what type of drama it is:

"Oh my God, Elijah, you totally just ruined my stanley!"

"Alex, let me wear your jersey!"

Yep, We have THOSE types of girls. God they annoy the FUCK out of me. Especially Olivia, all she does is pop a tit and she get anything she wants from her boyfriend Chris. Ewewewew.

-

I walked into the school building and I could already smell the odor from the bathrooms and changing rooms, I took one whiff of the school air and I felt nauseous. My friends walked up to me and I already mentally prepared myself for some useless yapping about them breaking their guitar strings and the gig we have next week. I gazed across the hall and spotted none other then The Chris Sturniolo making out with his "girlfriend" Olivia. I wrinkled my nose and looked away, I really didn't need to see the person I loved the most making out with the person I loathed, especially at 7 in the morning. Bloody hell, they should get a room, Honestly, it's embarrassing.

"Yo, y/n, you going to the gig this weekend? We desperately need a lead guitarist since Griffin fell sick".

I turned around as soon as i heard that familiar voice. I looked up and saw my closest friend Jett, we've been friends since K-garden and we both have a love for music. That's basically how we bonded, we're both 17 and hate Olivia.

"yuh i'll be there. send me the adress-"

I get cut off by Olivia screaming at chris about something.

"YOUR REALLY GOING TO BREAK UP WITH ME?"

"well yeah, you've been annoying me all week and I'm sick of your bullshit, your a homophobic little bitch and I'm finished with your BS"

"WHAT ABOUT PROM? DON'T YOU FEEL ANYTHING AT THIS POINT? WHAT ABOUT ALL THE THINGS WE'VE DONE TOGETHER??"

"I'm not going with you Olivia, you've bullied my brother for being gay and thats unacceptable. I'm disgusted by how I've always sided with you and lost multiple friends because of you. we're over"

Chris glanced at me as he walked off and i gave him a small smile, knowing that i'll see i'm english again due to him not being with Olivia in the janitors closet during 2 and 3rd period. Me and Jett walked to homeroom in a comfortable silence as Olivia stormed off into the janitors closet to cry or to call her father to pick her up.

-

2:00pm.

an hour and a half until the next gig. I sit down next to Chris's seat in English while fiddling with my guitar pick, waiting for class to start. Suddenly, I hear the door open and Chris steps inside for the first time this semester. I look him up and down and smile to myself, knowing damn well he won't have a clue on what we're doing in class.

He sits down next to me and raises an eyebrow when i quickly look away.

"You've never had an attractive boy sit down next to you?"

Holy shit his cockiness is sickening.

"I've seen far more attractive boys at gigs. Sorry if that bruises your ego."

I mutter as I turn to page 25 of my book and start reading the page.

"Oh come on. I bet you haven’t seen much. I'm the most attractive guy at school. You gotta admit that I AM a bit attractive"

I scoff and put my headphones on. God he was so obnoxiously cute it was sickening, I couldn't help but smile as he pouted and opened his book. He had a mix of confusion and flipped through a few pages of the book "private peaceful" with the look of pure shock displayed on his face. He tapped on my shoulder and whined,

"hey pleaseee help me with this work. I don't know ANYTHING about this book and we have a whole book report to write about this book. I'll pay you back!"

I groaned and reluctantly put my headphones off, glancing at the book and then back at him.

"how much you talkin'?"

I raised an eyebrow as be pondered on the price of my "tutoring".

"I'll pay you fifty bucks if you tell me about the book and one hundred if you write the book report for me"

My eyes widened as I head the price, I looked up at him with a confused expression.

"A HUNDERED DOLLARS FOR TUTORING? HOW RICH ARE YOU??"

I suddenly slap my hand to my mouth, embarrassed that those words slipped out of my mouth. He turns a deep shade of red and i instantly feel stupid for asking him. Of course he was rich. He was a bloody lacrosse player.

"I'm so sorry I shouldn’t have said that. You don't have to reply."

God I was so embarrassing. His gaze softened and looked down at me, smiling at me he told me:

"I guess my parents make a lot of money. Don't worry, you're not embarrassing. I'll give you my number. Call me this evening. I'd like to get to know you."

I look at him with a expression of pure shock and type is number into my phone while the bell rings, signalling the end of class.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chris's POV:

"I guess my parents make a lot of money. Don't worry, you're not embarrassing. I'll give you my number. Call me this evening. I'd like to get to know you."

I chuckle as she looks up at me with a shocked expression. I really liked her vibe. After Olivia created a whole situation with me breaking up with her, I wanted to find a new female friend. Y/n had the vibe i've been looking for all this time.

Yours truly, R.A.Y.Č.E.K☆🍓𖦹🍒𖦹☆

COMMENT IF YOU WANNA BE ON THE TAGLIST!

taglist: @tillies33ssss @bazooka-cazooka @christhopersturniolo

[sillycatgriddy]

i hate being sent voice messages . i’m not listening to all of that . i’m happy for u tho. or sorry that happened

[gayerthanevertbh]

Illicit Affairs - Part 2

A/N: oh my god i am so sorry for not updating, i’ve been lazy and busy but this part is a little short? i think lol but i still hope you enjoy!

Summary: You and she both agreed that it was just a whole “Friends with Benefits” some type of thing until you fall for her. You fall so deep that it hurts you to see her being in love with someone else.

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: smut; pet names; that’s all?

Word Count: 2.76 k

Taglist: @karmsgxrl @thatonebrazilian​​ @d14n4ol​​ @strangegardentaco​​ @lainjupi​​ @19jammmy​​ @how-to-disappearrr​​ @yeux-sur-la-lune​​ @bepisbeansprouts​​

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

not my gif!

It’s officially been two weeks since the last time you saw or even talked to Natasha – for two reasons. One, your feelings increase more than it shouldn’t. Second, she was extremely busy due to an emergency at the Avengers or some sort.

The woman liked it whenever you’re clingy, so that means she expects a message every day from you; until you actually don’t message her. You were reading your book at night in your bed until you hear the vibration of your phone on the nightstand.

Groaning, you grabbed the electronic device and saw 5 messages from the woman. I love playing this type of game.

Natasha: I hate it when you don’t text back.

Natasha: Are you busy?

Natasha: I know I’ve been very busy, kotenok. But, I appreciate a single message from you.

Natasha: send me a voice message?

Natasha: Getting impatient.

You giggled and find it adorable when she’s the one who is the clingiest of the both of you. Sighing out of laughter, you placed your phone back on the nightstand and continued reading your book.

You’re reading this book called Normal People and it kind of defines your relationship with Natasha – somehow. It was just all about sex, nothing more than that. Although you are loath to think that she’s using you for it, you don’t think so anyway.

Feeling tired, you decided to put your book away, and time to go to bed, excited for more messages that Natasha will send to you.

The moment you rise from your sleep, you immediately grab your phone to check the messages that your friend has sent you. To your surprise, it was a lot.

Natasha: I’ve been very horny for you.

Natasha: I know you’re awake, message me right now or you’ll regret it.

Natasha: That’s it, I’m calling you.

*missed 4 calls from Natasha*

You typed your fingers on the device and replied:

You: heyy:( sorry, i just woke up and i’ve also been reading for the whole night. X

Natasha: Kotenok, you should get better at replying to me. You know I hate it when you disobey.

She knows what she’s doing. You thought to yourself and sent a picture of you in bed, your comforter shielding your body away in the picture.

Not even 30 seconds later she replied:

Natasha: Teasing me, princess? Send me your titties I want to see them.

You: Demanding much? No, I have to go to work.

Natasha: Absolutely not, darling. You’re mine for the whole day. Go look at your front door.

“What?” You wondered to yourself and got onto your feet, rushing towards the front door quietly – so that Kate wouldn’t wake up, and opened it. Your eyes widen at the woman who has been standing outside for god knows how long.

“Hi, detka,” She smiles politely and kisses your forehead with gentleness in it. You felt your heart and stomach fluttering at the gesture. “Did you miss me?”

“Of course I did,” You added while you got comfortable on her chest. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not too long, I just wanted to surprise you that’s–”

“So are you two together?” Kate, I love you, but you’re ruining the moment. You turn your head and your attention span was on your friend.

“Uh–”

“No,” Natasha interjected with quietness in her tone. “We–We aren’t together. Y/N is a special friend.”

Kate squints her eyes seemingly and gives an “ah” sound, her eyes averted back to you and slowly smirks. You feel Natasha’s hand linger on your waist and pull you dangerously close to her.

“I made mac n’ cheese,” Kate says awkwardly while bringing her fingers on the back of her neck. “Poor Natasha, Y/N hasn’t let her in. Go on roomie, your guest must be itching to go inside of our humble abode.”

Chuckling, you brought Natasha inside of your cozy home with your hand intertwined with hers – feeling the gush of excitement firing to your loins. You sat beside her on a small circular dining table as Kate brought two small ceramic bowls of mac n’ cheese, the sight of the smoke filling the air.

“This looks good,” You added while munching on the food with your mouth boiling, making you blow out the hot air from your lips. Natasha giggled from the sight. Can this woman stop giving me butterflies in my stomach?

After a quick breakfast at your house, Natasha brings you back to her little apartment at Manhattan Square, feeling energetic or some sort. You’ve lost count of how many times she has brought you to the same apartment she lives in, and you wonder how it still feels like the first time going in.

Her apartment was small but very spacious. There was a single long white couch and across from it was just a normal screen TV that was on the wall – not big and not too small. Alongside that, there was a small dining table that has two chairs only across from each other. You think of how lonely her apartment was, it was like seeing a dead person’s house.

You were so out of your mind that you feel Natasha’s lips grazing against your naked neck, nipping at the skin gently as possible – making you let out a strangled moan that she always loves to hear over and over again.

“God, I’ve missed you,” She dangerously whispered at the back of your ear and firmly grabbed your hips to pull her against you, your buttocks were pressed against her pelvis tightly.

“Natty,” You breathed out – earning a hum from your friend.

“My little kotenok, always so desperate for me,” Her hands were now on both of your breasts and gives them a tight squeeze. “I can’t stop thinking about these naughty thoughts, you’re just so fucking pretty whenever you’re all submissive for me. It’s pathetic.”

Dirty talking was nothing new for Natasha, she was gladly an expert through it. She loves saying those nasty things that could keep you up all night and you loved every bit of it, if not, addicted to it. You feel her hips begin to roll against your body and softly push you on the couch, your front falling on the cushions.

Her lips possessively attack your back, your clothes and panties were already discarded from her hands that seemed to not get off you. She roughly palms both of your cheeks and slaps the other side with a loud smack!

“Oh, god!” You yelped in pleasure.

“Do you want to disrespect me again, little one?”

Smack!

“No,” You whispered while you feel your left cheek very warm. “I won’t disrespect you anymore. I’ll be such a good girl, I promise, Natty!”

She smirked, appreciating the sight behold her twinkling green eyes as she kneads onto your ass softly but aggressively; the possessiveness taking over her.

She takes off her tight pants along with her black lacey underwear, and your whole bottom was in between her legs. Is she going to hump me?

“I want you to stay quiet or else I’ll stop,” She threatened while kissing your neck softly, letting out a moan. “And stay still. Mommy will take good care of you.”

She thrusts into your ass with a loud guttural moan that made you even more aroused than ever. You hold onto the cushions tightly, your knuckles are turning white from the pressure as she leans her front closer to you, her head in your neck as you feel her pant against your skin.

“Such a good fucking girl, huh? Do you love it when mommy takes you like this, you little slut?”

You just nodded, you were too stunned to speak. And if you did, you’ll get another smack from your friend which you don’t complain but you love it when she grinds down onto you like some maniac in heat.

“Be a good girl and come for me, come on,” She begged while her hips are thrusting on you quicker than before. Her fingers are digging down onto your pussy. “You are so hot, come for me.”

----------

“When’s your next mission?” You asked timidly while playing with the strand of her hair, looking at her green eyes that shined through the light outside of her room.

“In a month, I’m assuming,” She replies with a small smile on her gorgeous face. She’s so beautiful and I’m just nothing to her. “We can go have dinner tomorrow? I’m not free today, Wanda is inviting me to the building.”

Your heart fell as you heard the woman’s name that came out from her lips. It’s not that you despise the Witch, in fact – you damn wished that it should be you other than her because what can you not give that she gives to Natasha? Your body and friendship is the only thing that Natasha wants from you.

Not you, not your love, nothing romantically.

And it fucking hurts like a bitch.

“Oh,” You said flatly while sighing. “Have fun, I guess.”

She felt your disheartened reply and shakes you a little until your eyes went back to hers. “That wasn’t a nice response, are you okay?”

“Y–Yeah!” You said with a nervous reply, suddenly feeling your back with sweat. You’re literally the dumbest person ever, Y/N. “Sorry, I was very dozed off. Of course, I understand, tell me all about it once you come home later.”

“Okay,” She said, convincing herself that there was nothing wrong, and kissed your hair tenderly with her soft lips. “You know, we should go out sometime. As friends, of course.”

You just feel like your soul has just left your body whenever she keeps bringing up her friendship with you. This is what you hate most about yourself, you’re falling for someone who you could never have. Natasha sees you as this person in the most platonic way but your eyes speak with feelings. Undeniable feelings for her – and it’s ridiculous how she can’t see that, she’s a spy.

“Why not,” You whispered and kiss her chest and earned a satisfied hum from Natasha, who’s holding you tightly from her embrace.

“I love you, Y/N. You are definitely my favorite person than everyone else.”

I wish I was yours completely.

You are currently back home after a quick hang out with Natasha – who wouldn’t shut up about Wanda – and you finally thank the heavens that you’re in bed at peace, until Kate fucking Bishop bursts into your room like some kind of psycho.

“Your hickeys are so obvious, please cover them up!” You laughed audibly and watch your friend flop on the mattress beside you, feeling it dip. Kate lifts her head up and uses her elbow as her leverage on the bed, looking at you with her signature squinted eyes.

“So, what happened there?”

You laughed again, “What do you mean?”

“With Natasha you dumb fuck.”

“Oh,” You tilt your head a little and tap your chin with the tip of your finger. Sighing, you replied: “We had sex.”

“And?”

“And that’s all,” You said, lifting your eyebrows in confusion. “What else is there?”

Kate laughs at how confused you were that she almost fell off the bed. My god why am I friends with her. “You did not seduce her?”

“I mean–”

“If you really like the woman you should! Do you love her?”

You didn’t hesitate to answer that question. “Yes, I do, frankly.”

“Then seduce her,” She tells you while sitting up on the mattress, making yourself be in the same position as her. “Send her like a nude pic, tease her. Oh and also, flirt with everyone, especially when it's someone specific.”

You felt awfully dumb because this has never crossed your mind once, ONCE. And here’s Kate being more of a smartass than you, it makes you cringe to yourself but she was right. If you love someone, you have to get them to love you back. It feels too childish, but you like it. You like childish shit.

I hate myself but whatever.

“You have a point,” You sighed and hold your ankles with both of your hands. “I don’t take nudes… I’ll try though, plus I don’t think she’ll appreciate that.”

Kate snickered, “Um, I think she would. Have you seen the way she looks at you? It’s so lustful and devouring… I don’t know, it looks like she’s looking at you the same way you look at her.

You tilt your head once again and furrow your eyebrows. She was looking at you in a different way? You were quite taken back by her comment that you almost lost your balance.

“Really?” You asked in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Kate said in an obvious matter, waving her hands in the air. “You’re just so blind, so I do think she’ll like that. And I promise you by the end of the day, you’re hers.”

What if it doesn’t work? What if she still doesn’t want you? Of course, you want to do it naturally because it’s healthier that way so you decide not to seduce her that much. If she wants you, she’ll find her way to want you. But you need to get the span of her attention of course.

“You’re quite smart.” You remarked while playing with your nails, a bad habit.

“I know.”

You and Kate hung out for the rest of the night, talking about how it was going to be planned, and watched a movie that didn’t make sense to the both of you.

----------

At 2 in the morning, you were in deep sleep that you didn’t hear your phone buzzing on your nightstand. You woke up groggily and grabbed your phone, the light making your eyes squint.

You see one message from Natasha and your heart suddenly felt warm.

Natasha: Has anyone told you that you’re the prettiest girl in the world? You should hear that every day and every minute, you deserve it.

Quickly, you typed on your phone and hit send:

You: are you drunk texting?

Natasha: Of course not, my darling. I meant every word I said, kotenok.

Your thoughts wandered if Natasha did like you, just a tiny bit, but you hated being the idealistic person you are. Although we don’t lose faith, right? Your quiet laugh died down until you felt your phone buzzing again, making you more awake.

Natasha: I had sex with Wanda.

Oh.

You clenched your throat and feel your eyes begin to water as you placed your phone back onto the nightstand, your body suddenly feeling heavy from what she has said. You never thought that this was a very painful feeling, especially from a woman who never feels for you the way you do. You let out a very quiet sob, rethinking the words she has typed out. I had sex with Wanda. I had sex with Wanda. I had sex with Wanda.

You’re a total loser for being so incredibly in love with Natasha. It’s like this one scenario when there’s a popular person in school and you’re that nerdy loser who’s in love with the popular girl or something. It’s pretty cliche, not going to lie, but you’re in that position in life right now.

Falling in love was so different because it was just only you who was playing the game, she was never in it. So, in general, that’s technically your fault – not hers. But, how can you not fall in love with a person who treated you like a person?

The next morning, you never bothered opening your phone. You just kept going on your day as if nothing happened. Kate noticed how quiet you were throughout the morning and didn’t talk to you much, considering you probably need to be alone. It was a cool morning, the coldness hits on your skin perfectly well as you took a walk outside of your house, getting your mind completely off Natasha. You see two to three people alongside you, watching a couple having their arms wrapped around each other that makes you want to gag.

Going to your local coffee shop, you can’t believe who you just saw.

Wanda and Natasha, on the line, hand in hand.

This day could get any worse.

[jaeminscoffee]

Daddy Issues | S. Jn

Pairing | Seo Johnny x Fem!Reader

Genre | Smut, fluff

Wc;type | oneshot: 3.93k [not proof read]

Warning(s) | Pwp, dilf!johnny, y/n's a pillow princess, daddy kink, overstimulation, teasing, edging, dacryphilia, slight voyeurism, degradation kink, heavy use of the words 'doll, princess, slut, pretty, angel', typical lyra smut, i made haechan johnny's son (i was about to write changbin as johnny's son but decided against it) age gap, unprotected sex ( the Reader's on pills. Remember this is a fiction, don't play the wrong card irl) filth.

a/n- i found this request buried in my asks and was tempted to write it. Sure, the warning looks intimidating, but i know you wanna read it, y'all whores (ily) shoutout to @bakugou-is-my-bae @cvntzennie and @jenopollo for helping me decide what to post first! @suhpersonic

Minors try not to interact! <3

Age is just a number, so surely, there's nothing to be ashamed or embarrassed of, right? 

There's no reason for you to not fall for the friendly neighborhood bachelor, well not so bachelor bachelor, since he does go around asking people who knows of his marriage to pretend it never took place. 

Johnny's hot, super hot. Has the build of a supermodel. Has the face that one can only imagine belongs to a greek god, as you'd jokingly tell him how he seemed to be god's favorite and how you loathe Aphrodite for showing favoritism (which would always end up with you getting a very sultry, teasing look from the lad) 

Johnny has the type of personality that women can only wish the entirety of the male species would possess. He's an absolute sweetheart, life of the party, definitely the center of attention wherever he goes. And oh god, does he have an immaculate fashion sense. 

But Johnny's also the father of Donghyuck. Your best friend. 

More than being ashamed about the fact that you actually fell in love with a man who has a child of your age, it was the fact that you had to fall for Donghyuck's father of all people. 

Donghyuck is a sweetheart, definitely got his personality from his father but he's also got that glare that could creep the Lord's of the darkness from his father. He's got so much from his father that the resemblance is uncanny. 

You'd not want to get onto hyuck's bad side since you've gotten first hand experience at stopping him from almost committing homicide to someone who spoke shit about his friends, more specifically, you. 

But Hyuck's not in town. So a little fun with Mr. Suh wouldn't hurt anyone, correct? After all, you're still only a human with desires and the want to take risks. 

You'd always not so subtly drop hints at Johnny and he'd always give you that look that would have slick collecting itself between your thighs. A warning look. 

A look that said, "cross the line and you'll get it" 

But that's the thing, you want to get it and will do anything to get it.

"Y/n." 

You'd ask yourself less than a million times if you want to do this or not.

Sure, you weren't this hesitant when you decided to sext your best friend's father knowingly when he was in business mode to irk him up but that's one thing. 

And having to confront the same father who left a message smaller than a sentence that completely disregarded all the obscene text and images to show that he's not the slightest bothered or suprised by your behavior for that matter was another thing.

"Tomorrow at mine." 

It's almost as though he deals with hormonal teenagers one as such as yourself on a daily basis and that thought kind of backfired at you considering the whole 'Let's piss Johnny off so that he'd finally give me what i want' agenda. 

Ironic, huh? 

"Mr. Suh." you start hesitantly, unsure of what to call him, scared of what his reaction would be after your inappropriate shenanigans last night. 

Your stiff demeanor broke down a little with just a hint of shiver passing down your spine as you watch his features contort into a subtle but cocky smirk, "So now you're being all formal,"

"Well, what else would you like me to address you as?" you inquire, feigning oblivion to his tone and what he's implying at. "You tell me, doll. You seemed to have a lot of names to call me last night," he takes a step forward, prompting you to walk a step backwards, further into the corridors of his apartment and away from the actual location. 

"I do not know what you're talking about.. " you let your voice shrivel towards the end, eyes wandering around the complex, finding interest in every small detail as you avoid Johnny's teasing gaze. 

"You don't?" Johnny takes another step forward, latching his hands onto your forearms to prevent you from stepping further away, "You must have had a heavy sleep to forget all that you did last night," his voice drops dangerously low as he begins to walk backwards and back into the safety of his apartment, all the while keeping his gaze fixated on you.

"That won't do, would it? How about we take a walk down the memory lane? And see if that rings any bell?" He brushes your hair away from its static position on your shoulder, allowing him to appreciate all those fine details of your shoulders and neck that are exposed from your selection of clothing, an off shoulder. 

"How about we don't...?" You ask with skepticism, jolting slightly when you hear the door shut behind you and at the new intrusion of personal space by the lad.

"Why are you acting all shy now, Y/n? Weren't you the one so eager to get into her best friend's fathers pants? Just be the whore you are, darling. Your facade's fooling no one." okay you definitely didn't see that coming. 

Johnny's expressions morph into that of mischief as he watches your eyes grow wide and mouth fall ajar, "Am i not correct? Are you not a whore?" he asks with an eyebrow quirked up in a questioning manner.

You don't reply, almost as though the question was meant to linger in the open and that it was a rhetorical one. What you didn't expect, however, was for Johnny's hands to find pursuit around your neck, not necessarily applying pressure, but there as a warning. 

"Answer me." 

"I'm not.." you answer with a feeble voice, internally cringing at how squeaky you sound which only added to Johnny's amusement. 

"Really? Because I don't think good girls go around drooling at a divorced man, her friend's father for that matter and definitely do not send lewd images and voice out their fantasies to a guy twice their age, still want to pretend you're innocent? Or you admit it and we cut down the chase?"

"Yes, I am." you breathe out when his fingers tighten around your neck, a triumphant smile making its way onto his lips. Yet, Johnny felt the need to keep pushing,

"you're what?" 

"I am what you said I am," you speak, trying to avoid looking at the scrutinizing look on his face which seemed futile as he had his arms wrapped around your neck, keeping your head in place. 

"I want to hear you say it, doll. I need to hear you say it." At this point Johnny's intent was to get you into a flustered puddle in his hold and it sure as hell was going in that direction, seeing how you can't even hold his gaze for more than a few seconds in a shot. 

"I am.. I am a who-"

The sound of a phone ringing loud cut you off midway through your sentence, to which you were absolutely relieved. Johnny only seemed to grow annoyed the more he heard the phone ring. With a loud huff, he lets you go, not before giving you a stern look, "Go to my room." he instructed, making his way to the study. 

You let out a breath you've been holding in unknowingly the moment he steps away from you. You watch his figure retreat from you with awe, only now realizing how messy you felt between your legs and how your knees keep buckling. 

"Oh Hyuck!" you hear Johnny exclaim into the phone the minute you step forward to follow his command. 

Your best friend is on call with the guy you're about to fuck. 

Your blood runs cold as you shakily make your way into the apartment and towards the bedroom, shrugging off your sling bag, hanging it behind the door as you place your phone on the bedside table to wipe your hands dry from all the sweat that had accumulated at the palm of your hands. 

"Yeah, I'm fine, about to eat to my dinner actually" you hear the moment to make yourself comfortable at the edge of the bed, looking over to the door where Johnny stood with his arms across his chest, the other holding up the phone as he leans his weight onto one shoulder, leaning into the doorframe.

You take the time to really appreciate his appearance. He adorned nothing more than a simple grey sweat and tight black tee but he seemed ready to walk down a runway at any given moment now. His long hair, slightly disheveled looking almost intentionally messed up, compliments his features. And oh his features. 

The everlasting smirk stayed still on his lips, moving as he exchanged words with his son.

You only come back to your senses when Johnny snapped his free hand in front of you, gaining your attention. He points at his own shirt, then points at you, mouthing 'off' while he listens to Donghyuck speak about whatever he's speaking. 

"Really? Jeno said that? Tell him I'm more than willing to welcome him as my gym partner, the lad seems strong" Johnny makes a quick move to remove the gadget from his ear, before holding it in front of him after placing the call on speaker mode 

Your eyes widen the moment you hear the disturbance in the background and Donghyuck's voice resonate through the room. "no?? Why would you want to work out with him? He'll only make you feel old, you know?" 

"Says the one who still can't beat me at arm wrestling. If anything, i think Jeno would make the perfect gym buddy for me," Johnny raises an eyebrow at your defiance, cocking his head towards the side, staring down at you with a predatory look, "Hyuck, you know, Y/n-" you scramble to take your shirt off at the mention of your name on the call, "-stopped by earlier" he lets out a silent laugh of disbelief.

"Oh? Oh yeah! I'd told her I'd give her book back before I left but I forgot, did you perhaps give it back to her?" Donghyuck questions. 

"I figured you must've forgotten so, yeah i did." Johnny replies, pushing himself off of the doorframe, now walking towards you. 

"Man, I miss her! I might facetime her after I end the call with you," Johnny sets down the phone beside you on the bed, leaning down, placing both his hands on either side of your lap, finding comfort at the crook of your neck,

"I remember her mentioning something about her cousin coming over? Maybe wait for an hour or so before calling her" his lips graze against your neck each time he spoke, you let out a tiny whimper at the so longed feeling, only to earn yourself a small bite at the earlobe, immediately accompanied by a hand over your mouth, "you need to be quiet, doll. Or my son would find out how much of a slut his best friend is," he whispers in your ear. 

"Yeah? Did she mention which one?" 

"No, not really, she kinda just stormed out after getting what she wanted" Johnny creates a trail of kisses all the way from your neck to your shoulders, down the collarbone while one of his hand worked to unhook your bra, "Yeah, she's weird like that," you hear Donghyuck let out a chuckle as you whine into Johnny's palm, your figure slightly trembling from the fear of getting caught all the while being excited about the risky situation he's put the two of you in. 

"Anyways, I'll call you tomorrow? The boys are coming over now so I got to go! Night, dad!" Donghyuck speaks up again, "Night, Hyuck." 

You hear the beep indicating the call has ended. Johnny let's his hand drop from your mouth and makes its way towards your hair, brushing through the strands before pulling at it with a firm grip, "I had my son on call and here you are making all these sweet noises, you wanted to get busted, doll?" 

"It's not my fault! You-"

"ah-ah! Don't talk back, angel. You're already in deep trouble, don't want to add onto that now, do we?" He makes a swift move to have you lying on your back, your torso completely exposed to him while he remains clothed. 

"But Johnny-" you whine, jolting when you feel his hands caressing the soft flesh of your inner thighs, "How do you think Hyuck would feel about this?" his hands travel further north, cupping your heat from underneath your skirt. "fuck, you're drenched"

"Now tell me, pretty girl, what are you supposed to be calling me, now?" 

"Johnny-, tha-that was a joke! I don't have daddy kin-" you try clenching your thighs close from the sudden attention your core was receiving. Johnny wholeheartedly lets out a laugh at your attempt to hide your true feelings, making a quick act of disregarding your soaked panties somewhere behind him.

"Darling, the more you deny it, the longer we keep going at it-" his thumbs at your clit, applying pressure but making no move to quench your needs. You let out a sigh of bliss at the feeling, your back arching off of the sheets at the sensation.

In any other situation, you'd be embarrassed at how sensitive you'd gotten just from all the dirty talking and looks Johnny passed you. But that's the catch, he's Johnny, the only one who can get you this sensitive while doing the bare minimum. 

"Say it, Y/n." 

"No, Johnny! It's-it's embarrassing.." you plead with your eyes, grinding your hips against his fingers, earning a satisfied, dirty look from the lad. 

"Very well.. I'll just draw it out of you"

Without warning, Johnny with little to no resistance, slides two slender digits into your wetness, setting a pace fast enough to draw loud chains of cries from your mouth.

"You hear that, doll? You hear how fucking wet you are? Hm?" he growls animalistically, the thumb that remained on your clit now moving in circles with a motive to get you undone in seconds. 

"Johnn-..!" you whine out, feeling your orgasm growing so close that you could almost taste it, "Still going at that, angel?" he questions, not really expecting an answer as he soaks up the pleasured look on your face. "Johnny- I'm close.. -" you fail to notice the mischievous grin growing on his face as he speeds up the movement of his fingers. 

"Of course you are, doll" He feels you clench around his fingers, back coming off of the mattress as you ready yourself for your release, waiting until the last minute to draw his finger out.

"Why would you-? Johnn-I was so close!" you cry out as you sense your core clench around nothing, whining about the incomplete orgasm. "Why would I give you what you want when you wouldn't comply, baby? That's not how this works." He shrugs, licking his fingers clean of your essence, moving up from the bed to remove the shirt that seemed to be suffocating now.

"Johnny, please!" you whine louder, rubbing your thighs together to create some sort of friction, all unsatisfactory as it did not meet the same intensity as that of his fingers. 

"Please what, doll?" He smirks, knowing the ball is in his court and that you'd had to give in any moment now. Johnny leans down once again, drawing lazy circles at your clit, using his other hand to hold himself up above and close to you, his minty breath which had a hint of coffee fanning your face as you whimper, finally feeling your high building itself up again. "Spit it out, princess, you know you want to." he speaks in a soft voice.

"Please..please" you beg for nothing in particular, getting all worked up again, "The begging's lovely, doll. But you're starting to anger me here, will you say it? Or should I leave you hanging again?" 

You mutter prayers under your breath, hoping he wouldn't actually leave you hanging again, "Fine-" he moves again to remove his fingers from you to deprive you of pleasure all over again when you finally latch onto his wrist, keeping his hands in place blurting out, "Daddy! I'm so-sorry.. There, daddy, please make me come" you give in, the name, the feeling and look of pure victory on his face as he grins like a cheshire cat only intensifies the heat growing at a rapid pace at the pit of your stomach. 

"Final fucking ly, princess. Daddy will make you feel good" He reinserts his fingers in, drilling it with desperation to see you come undone as he draws rapid circles on your now sensitive clit with the other hand, watching you squirm under him.

"Joh-Daddy i'm coming..!" you cry out weakly as you feel your orgasm hit you with much force, easily driving you into over sensitivity. Johnny's patient in helping you ride out your orgasm, not stopping until you let out a throaty sob and plead him to stop to allow yourself some room to breathe. 

Johnny, however, makes no move to stop, only speeding up his fingers, his gaze fixed on where his fingers disappeared inside of you while his other hand held you down with a vise grip, "Give me one more, doll. I know you've got one more in you. " he pants, the feeling of his girth in confinement only throwing himself to sensory deprivation as he feels himself twitch inside his sweats painfully. 

You shake your head, tears now flowing elegantly down your cheek, your lips puckered into a slight pout, your eyebrows drawn together as you let yourself melt into the pleasure Johnny was providing you with. "Daddy.." 

You whine, feeling your second high reaching you ridiculously quick as you see Johnny's face contort in concentration, 

"I need to get you nice and wet for me, princess, you're doing so well. Give daddy another one" you coaxes you with his sultry tone, words and actions, inevitably having you come undone under him for the second time that night. 

You let out a choked moan, finally having enough as you curl upon yourself the minute Johnny removes his fingers from you, full fledged crying at the overbearing feeling of sensitivity. 

Johnny groans at the sight, leaning down to press a soft peck on your sweaty forehead before getting off of the bed to remove his pants alongside his boxer at a slow speed, granting you some time to recover.

"Condom?" he asks, readying himself to reach into the drawing when he notices you shake your head a no as a reply, "I'm on pills.." you mutter weakly. 

You hear him curse out at the thought of doing you raw, flexing his muscles before climbing on top of you again. He takes his time to gently turn you back onto your back, pressing his tender lips against your irritated one for the first time that night, his hand ever so slightly moving to play with your clit once again, making you jerk, "Daddy!" 

"Sorry, doll. Daddy just needs to make sure that princess is ready to take his cock" 

Your whining intensifies at his words, wiggling your hips to move closer to his own, "But I am ready! Look, daddy! I'm so wet and ready for you!" you whimper, earning a chuckle from the lad. 

Just like all the other times that night, he aligns his cock at your entrance without a warning, the tip ever so slightly pushing through your walls, "Alright, big girl. Show daddy how much of a slut you can be for him."

Suddenly, Johnny detaches himself from you, moving further away as he leans by the edge of the door, smirking at you whining at the loss of contact, "Patience, angel" 

He grabs hold of your hips, manhandling your body into all fours as he enters you completely with no trouble once he's got you where he wants you to be.  

Something about having to take Johnny from behind was so sexy that you could almost immediately feel your orgasm grow, "Fuck baby, keep clenching around me like that and i won't last long," he grunts, moving in you with a steady pace, 

"I never expected my son to befriend such filthy sluts like you, Y/n. Look at the mess you're making on my sheets" He grabs a fistful of your ass in a tight squeeze, the sudden shift in his demeanor only serving as a whiplash as you feel yourself growing closer and closer to the sweet orgasm. 

"Jesus, doll, you're so fucking tight i can barely move" Johnny growls, talking to keep himself from coming too fast. 

"Daddy.. I'm close. M-I'm so so close" you cry as your arms give out and you fall face first onto the mattress, the new stretch in your back only encouraging his cock to hit you deeper, finding the sweet cushion that serves as extra pleasure for you. 

"Me too, princess, me too.. '' You hear him let out a whine, his thrusts growing sloppier as he does you slower but deeper. 

He reaches around your body to find pursuit at your clit for the nth time that night, rubbing rapid, messy circles to go with his deep thrusts, "Daddy!" you reach your high with a high pitched cry of his name. 

Johnny comes not too long after you as he couldn't resist the constant tight clenching of your walls around his cock. He thrust slowly to ride out his high as you twitch helplessly, face scrunched up in too much pleasure. 

You feel your body being manoeuvred onto your side as he whispers sweet nothings which pass right through your ears as you feel him softened inside you, the feeling ridiculously soothing for your used up walls, 

"You did amazing, darling." he kisses your temple, not making any move to remove himself from within you, which you silently thanked him for. 

You both lay in silence as you turned your body towards him, earning a hiss and a playful smack from him as it added pressure onto his sensitive member. You wrap your arms around his torso, about to nuzzle into his chest and just drift away to dreamland when you hear the familiar ring of your phone from the table beside the bed. 

You feel Johnny's body shift to reach out to get your phone, looking at the caller ID before handing it to you with a smirk that you knew meant that he was up to no good. "Oh! It's hyuck" you exclaim in shock, quickly accepting the call and placing it near your ear, moving to get away from him. 

But Johnny seemed to have other ideas, as he latched an arm around your torso to keep you from moving, "Hey-" you begin, immediately feeling Johnny experimentally thrust into you again, making you whine, "Y/n! I miss you~-oh hey, are you okay?" you hear Donghyuck's voice from the other side, 

You look at Johnny with a pleading and warning gaze to which you earn yourself a toothy grin from the lad, 

"Of co-course! Just a little.. peachy,'' You turn around to place a hand on his chest to halt his movement, "You don't sound just peachy.. I've heard you like this before!" you hear Donghyuck make those noises he makes when he's thinking as Johnny keeps thrusting lazily the more you look at him, you see him open his mouth to speak, "Oh fuck! You're getting laid, aren't you???" 

"Tell Hyuck daddy says hi"

[wreckmetoji]

idfc

An ongoing fic in which you don't realize you have both Fushiguros at your feet.

↳ Toji Fushiguro/Reader

Part 4/?

Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 5

content warning. age gap, mention of sex, mild breeding kink if you squint, afab reader, profanity, slight angst, unrequited love, nobara being a supportive friend, mentions of domestic toji

This is part four of a several part story revolving around smut. **Minors DNI**

1.5k words

What can I say, I live to please. Besides..." "You ain't seen nothin' yet." 4:03 am is what the clock read by the time you had settled into your bed for some much needed, actual sleep. Toji had thoroughly fucked you over nearly every surface in your house that night, leaving no part of you untouched. By the third round, you had nearly lost all feeling in your legs and angry bruises were spotting the surface of your neck, thighs, and hips, the occasional hickey littering your chest. That didn't seem to stop the two of you from going another two rounds after that. What surprised you even more than his stamina, was the fact that he lay beside you in your bed, arm lazily draped over you as he slept silently. In all honesty, you had expected him to leave the moment he was done with you, recalling him saying at some point that this was just him throwing you a line, a simple no-feelings-attached fling to get your mind off the mistake you'd made the night before. For the most part, it worked, but some part of you felt disgusted with yourself for what transpired. When you woke up in the morning, Toji was gone. He had the courtesy to at least plug your phone in and place it on your bedside table, as well as lock your front door. How did he do that? Not seeing your phone for more than twenty-four hours meant you had a lot of messages and calls to catch up with, your chest squeezing slightly seeing that the most recent one had been a missed call and text at 2:47 am. It was from Megumi. By that point in the night, you were sure Toji had you bent over the railing on your balcony, but it was all hazy by this point. That same part of you that felt guilty for what, or rather who, you'd been doing all night is the part of you that texted Nobara first. Incoming call... "Nobara Kugisaki" "WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, BITCH?!" Nobara screeched into the line, causing you to hold the phone at an arms length away as she hurled several choice insults at you. "We thought you were dead, no one's been in contact with you since you and Megumi left the bar," She chastised once she managed to calm down. "I know, I'm sorry. Some shit happened and... promise to keep a secret?" You whispered into the line, as if someone might be listening. You trusted Nobara with your life, Yuuji too but that boy couldn't keep his mouth shut if his life depended on it. So you entrusted your drunken mistake with your mutual best friend to her, and her only. "I was wondering when he was gonna make a move," She sounded so nonchalant, as if everyone but you had expected this. "He's had a thing for you ever since our last year of high school. You didn’t know?" Her words made your stomach churn. Megumi had been secretly pining for years, and you went and fucked his dad. "That still doesn't explain where you've been since you got home, did you go into a coma?" "I was... busy." Nobara gasped, your name falling from her lips in shock. "No shit. Rebound, who was it?" You both loved and loathed that she could see through you so easily. You two couldn't keep anything from each other. How could you tell her this without making it sound as bad as it actually was? "He brought my phone over, and I was just in a really bad place emotionally..." The line was silent. "It was his dad. It was Toji." Unsurprisingly to you, Nobara was more intrigued than disgusted, considering anyone and everyone that went to the Fushiguro household thirsted for Megumi's hot, ripped dad. Although she had a lack of interest in men, she asked the obligatory spill the beans, what was it like? It took nearly ten minutes of just you talking to explain everything that happened, in as little detail as possible. "So that man banged you on every piece of furniture you own and turned you into his personal cum-stuffed twinkie?" Don't make it sound so crude. "More or less, yeah." "I don't see whats wrong with that. Just don't let Megumi know, he already hates his dad." You hadn't planned on it. Nobara and you caught up for another minute or two while you got changed, hanging up when she had to leave for her extra curricular classes. Now left with your thoughts, you sighed, wandering into your kitchen aimlessly. You cursed every couple steps because holy shit your legs hurt. Deciding it was too straining to stand, you sat at your kitchen island, your head in one hand as the other held your phone, your conversation with Megumi opened. [10:20pm]Gumi: I'm sorry.

[10:22pm]Gumi: There were better times to tell you how I feel, this is my fault.

[11:09pm]Gumi: You're the most important person in my life. Just know that no matter how you feel, I'll always be here.

[2:47am Missed call]

[2:47am]Gumi: I'll give you your space. Take care of yourself, please.

Shaky fingers hovered over the keyboard of your phone, nausea building up in your gut. You were about to put your phone down, leave it for later, before the three dots popped up, letting you know he was typing. He must've seen your read receipts.

[. . .]

[9:56am]Gumi: Thank god you're safe

[9:57am]Gumi: Can I call?

The call notification popped up before you could even send the message you'd typed out.

Incoming call... "Gumi Bear"

Your thumb hovered over answer, hesitating for just a moment before answering and bringing the phone up to your ear. You could hear the concern in his voice when he whispered your name into the receiver, a guilty knot twisting in your gut. "You don't have to say anything, I was just worried about you." There was a click on the other end, followed by some rustling. "You left so quickly, I was gonna come bring your phone but... it was probably best that I gave you some space. When my dad didn't come home I assumed it's 'cause he couldn't find you." A long sigh came from him, but your brows furrowed. Toji still wasn't home? The sound of your balcony door sliding open made you jump out of your skin, having to slap a hand over your mouth to prevent from screaming right into the receiver. From the phone you could hear Megumi calling your name, hearing the sudden commotion, completely unaware of the brief staring contest you had with the tall man stopped mid-step into your house, cigarettes and lighter in one of his hands, the balcony handle in the other. Both your eyes were wide, seeming to surprise each other. Had he been out there this entire time? "H...Hey, sorry, I... a spider, I saw a huge spider and it scared me." Mentally face-palming at your sorry excuse for your outburst. Toji seemed to find it entertaining as well, chuckling to himself as he slid the door closed. Megumi was silent for a moment, but ultimately accepted the explanation. He continued, promising he'd only take a minute of your time. You couldn't hear anything he was saying over the pounding of your heart as it leapt in your throat, watching Toji slide his shoes off and stride over to the kitchen, the flat of his palm brushing the small of your back as he passed by. "Let's just forget this happened, we can start over. Okay?" His voice dropped in tone, obviously hurt by the decision. "I think... I'd like that, yeah." There was a brief silence. "Okay, well," Megumi breathed in deeply, "That's all I wanted to say. I'll let you go. Text me if you need anything." A noise of affirmation came from your throat, the line going dead soon after. Small hands placed the phone face down on the countertop, hands overlapping on top of your phone as you stared up at Toji through your lashes. He didn't ask who called. The rest of your morning was spent with Toji, not much was said. It wasn't awkward, it was a surprisingly comfortable silence, for the most part. He'd made coffee and toast, his capabilities of displaying qualities of domesticity surprising you to say the least. The kitchen clock read 1:02 pm when he said he'd be leaving and you walked him to the door. As the two of you stood in the doorway, you found yourself unable to piece together the right words swimming in your head. Toji seemed patient, smirking with his hands stuffed into his sweatpants pockets as he faced you, back to the apartment hallway. "Well, um..." All night, and you decide to be awkward now?! "Thanks for everything, I guess?" You extended a hand, offering it to Toji for a handshake. The action made him snort, one hand coming out of the pocket of his soft cotton pants and placing it in the dip of your waist. Firmly, he tugged you closer to him, leaving a searing kiss on your lips. It was as fiery as it was short. He left you dumbfounded when he parted not a second later, waving as he walked down the hall. "Let's do this again soon."

[fairyoftbz]

insecurities | l. juyeon

🧸 pairing: idol!juyeon x (insecure) fem!reader 🧸 word count: 2.7k 🧸 genre: angst, fluffy end 🧸 tw: mentions of insecurities, doubts 🧸 a/n: sorry i forgot to post, i had a busy day and im exhausted, i hope it's gonna be enough! 🧸 requested: yes! thank you, it is very cliché but i hope this is what you had in mind! 💝

╰☆☆☆☆╮

Juyeon came home tired but happy, excited to see you again after a long day of intense practice and a show where he participated as an MC. You, on the other hand, were not as happy as he was, but you were for sure tired of something.

You couldn’t deny it, dating Juyeon had positive points, he was everything you could ask for in a man, but there were just as many negative points. He was an attractive, sweet gentleman, and it was almost impossible for him not to attract other girls, not even doing it on purpose. And it was one of your many insecurities even if you considered yourself pretty, you couldn’t help but get insecure every time he talked to someone else.

Because let’s be honest, in the Korean music industry, every single woman looks like an absolute goddess. So, when he interacts with someone, and they’re a bit too friendly, your heart pinches in pain as he gives them the smile he keeps for you and you only.

You think that they are more interesting, prettier and funnier than you, which has the ability to send your thoughts to the dark side of self-consciousness, not feeling pretty or enough next to those women. And tonight, it was hard to watch on National TV your boyfriend being extremely friendly with the other MC.

You had tried to comfort yourself that it was just a mask, that he had to look friendly and handsome on TV. However, you couldn’t help feeling disappointment and anger as he gave attentive eyes to the other MC as she explained something, his eyes falling on her lips pressed against the mic.

Juyeon walks through the main door, tossing his keys on the chest of drawers, getting rid of his jacket and shoes before joining you in the living room, happy to see that you were watching the same channel he appeared on. Eyes glued on the screen, your thumb rubbed against your lips, feeling the skin of the cuticles you scratched while watching your boyfriend feeling rough against your lips.

“Hi love,” he said as he sat next to you, pressing his lips on your cheek. You didn’t react, only emitting a slight hum as he sat comfortably.

Juyeon frowned but didn’t raise your bad mood, trying to think what was going on inside your head. Maybe you had a bad day, or you were just tired, despite scratching his head and think, he couldn’t pinpoint what had brought you in such a bad mood.

“Did you have fun?” you bitterly spat, and Juyeon’s eyes widened, surprised by your tone, the wrinkle on his forehead deepening as his brows furrowed at your attitude.

“I did. Are you mad or something?” he bluntly asked, and you sighed, taking the remote to turn the TV off, falling in an unpleasant, uncomfortable silence.

“Oh no, I’m super fine. I really enjoyed my boyfriend giving heart eyes to another girl on national TV, it was such a nice thing to watch,” you bitterly chuckled, and Juyeon’s eyes widened even more, not expecting you to pull out the jealousy card on that.

“Babe, what are you talking about? You know-”

“Please, spare me your fake confusion and lame excuses, I clearly saw what I saw. My eyes never deceive me,” you said while standing up, but Juyeon was quick to imitate you and grab your wrist to prevent you from walking away. You tried to free yourself from his grip, but he only tightened his hand around it.

“Juyeon, let me go,” you said through clenched teeth, trying to prevent the tears from escaping your eyes. Breaking down was the last thing you wanted to do in this situation.

“Not before you explain to me what this fuss is all about,” he said, irritation replacing confusion in his eyes. You let out a mocking scoff, your eyes filled with anger and disdain boring into your boyfriend’s, holding eye contact for a few seconds.

“You really think I’m this dumb? I clearly saw the eyes you gave to the other MC when you were both animating the show. Cracking jokes, giving her smiles that could outshine the sun, your eyes ogling her lips when she was talking or smiling. Did you really think I wouldn’t catch that?” you raised your voice, letting anger take over your body.

“I never did all of that, I don’t know what you are insinuating,” he spat, trying not to show it, but your words hurt him, hating the fact that you could imagine him cheat on you or fancy another girl.

“Go on social media then, you will see what I am ‘insinuating’! Everyone is already talking about how whipped you are and how cute of a couple you would look together. Some fans are even starting to make edits!” you shouted, shoving your phone in your hoodie’s front pocket.

Juyeon sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his nerves a bit, a gesture that had the ability to enrage you even more. Your family used to do that when they found you annoying or wanted to belittle you, and now seeing Juyeon doing the exact same thing as them really made you even more insecure about this whole situation. Your family made you feel like a real burden during your childhood and teen years that it hurt you to think that Juyeon was probably agreeing with that thought right now.

“Y/N, I don’t know what you are talking about. I was just trying to be nice, I can’t be rude or it’s mine and the group’s reputation that I’ll take down with me-”

“No it’s okay, no need to explain yourself, the message was very clear,” you said, and you finally freed yourself from his grip, your heart breaking as Juyeon sighed in annoyance again, seeing him almost roll his eyes.

“It’s not what I meant, and you know it. Don’t react like that, please,” he started, but you waved your hand in front of you.

“No, no, I got it, you-”

“Y/N, for the love of God, stop being so fucking insecure, it’s getting so fucking annoying at this point! I can’t do anything without you getting fucking doubtful, start having faith in me and in this relationship, dammit!” your eyes widened as Juyeon eventually snapped, his mouth slowly closing as he stared at you, realisation hitting him that his words and tone made a lot of damage once he saw the tears gather in your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

The couch separated the two of you, creating the illusion of a painful wall that made you shiver, feeling like your apartment had lost all of its warmth on the spur of the moment. His words were brutal, and they bounced around your skull, your head turning towards the corridor to swallow the lump forming in your throat, trying not to break down in front of him.

“Y/N, I’m-”

“Leave me alone,” you replied, voice wavering as you walked out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut before locking it.

Juyeon sighed and carded his hands through his dark locks, closing his eyes as he thought of the words that had escaped his mouth too quickly. He cursed under his breath as the living room fell into a deafening silence, his hands linked at the back of his neck as he thought of what just happened.

“Why did I say that,” he muttered under his breath and collapsed on the couch, unlocking his phone and scrolling on social media to try and momentarily forget your beautiful face painted with a hurtful expression because of him, but it was to no avail.

He saw what you saw; the fiction, the edits, the collages, he saw and read everything. He already hated seeing you cry and being hurt, but he actually loathed himself for being such an idiot and not comfort you about the whole situation with what was happening on every social platform.

His heart shattered in millions of pieces as he pictured you crying in your shared bed, holding the stuffed animal he got you for your anniversary tight against your chest, letting you drown in your insecurities and intrusive thoughts. He loved you very much, but despite him trying to remind you every single day, your intrusive thoughts always managed to get the upper hand when you found yourself hanging out on your own or with some friends. It was as if your brain shut out everyone who tried to reassure you or make you feel better, letting you drown and struggle in your sorrow.

Yes, the other idols were pretty, but they were nothing compared to you. Juyeon had only eyes for you and cared about you and, of course, his members, but never had he thought about leaving you for someone else. His intentions were just to sound and appear nice and welcoming on TV because he knew that some fans, antis and media wouldn’t hesitate a second to bash him on different platforms and articles for his rudeness and insensitivity towards his idol colleague. And not only would he break his reputation, but also the group’s, and that’s the last thing he wanted.

However, he also understood that it was something hard to watch for you, even if he reminded you every single day that you were the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Sitting on the couch, he started reflecting, putting himself in your shoes for a second. How would he have reacted if he saw you being super friendly and affectionate to another man? Someone more handsome, nicer than him, cracking jokes here and there to see you smile and laugh.

He tossed his phone on the couch space next to him, where he wished you were instead of crying yourself in your shared bed, watching the device bounce, collide with the armrest and fall on the ground. He didn’t even fret checking if the screen cracked, head too high in his thoughts to bother.

Resting his elbows on his knees, he pressed his joined hands against his mouth, tongue poking his inner cheek as he realised he had really messed everything up. His knee started bouncing at the disgusting thought of losing you, perfectly knowing that he had to do something before you could slip through his hand like grains of sand.

Juyeon stood up and knocked on the bedroom door, softly calling for your name.

“Y/N?” he asked, and you didn’t respond, faintly hearing you cry on the other side of the wall. “Go away, please,” your strained voice barely making it to his ears, his fingers drumming against the surface of the door in frustration.

From your side of the bed, still holding that teddy bear close to your chest, you let your tears damp the top of its head, feeling the exhaustion of crying kicking in. Juyeon didn’t knock another time, trying not to push your buttons too much to save his chances to talk to you.

You heard a small thud on the lower part of the door, frowning as you wondered what it was. Deep breathings filled in the silence lingering in the corridor, selfishly feeling a bit relieved that you weren’t the only one hurt in this situation. Juyeon was a smart, tolerant man, he knew when to put his pride aside and not blame you for something you said or did. Well, it’s not the case for this time, and it’s probably exhaustion that spoke for him, and that, of course, doesn’t excuse anything, but he wanted to apologise and make up for everything.

“I know you probably don’t want to see me or hear my voice after what I’ve told you, but I really want to apologise for what I’ve said,” you held your breath to hear his faint, low voice on the other side of the door. You sat up and felt dizzy for a quick second, still holding the teddy bear against your chest, your face buried in its head as you let the tears keep rolling on your cheeks.

“I know it’s hard to date me, and I’m really sorry, I wish we had a simpler life, where we could hang out and go on dates like two normal people. It’s also hard for me to not be the type of boyfriend everyone wishes to have, but I’m so damn grateful to call you mine.” Juyeon marked a pause and ruffled his hair, pushing the front pieces away from his hair while thinking of his following words.

“I… you don’t know how much I’m sorry for using your insecurities against you. I shouldn’t have, it was the dumbest move I could ever do, but I just didn’t know what to answer. You are so pretty, so beautiful, amazing, and absolutely wonderful to have around to me, so seeing you this insecure makes me mad every time you compare yourself to someone you think looks prettier, thinner, or more perfect than you. It’s... really frustrating because I try my best to make you feel like a goddess and worth it every day, but those unrealistic society standards and god damn social media make you feel like you are not worth an ounce of love,” he took in a big breath and raised his knees upwards, letting his forearms rest on them.

You slowly opened the door behind him and dropped the teddy bear by his side, letting him know of your presence. He was quick to notice it and turn around to hug your legs tightly, your hands finding their way in his hair and started massaging his skull.

“I’m so sorry, Ju,” you faintly whispered, and he breathed in deeply against your skin as if he finally found you again after being separated from you for years.

He grabbed your cherished stuffed animal and stood up, holding it against your chest with a tender smile. He sat you down on the bed and gave you a proper hug, mouth pressing loving kisses on your forehead and temple as his hand caressed the back of your head, holding you as close to him as possible.

“I’m so sorry Y/N, I really am. I love you so, so much, I’m really sorry for all the stupid words I’ve thrown at you,” he said, and you shook your head, squeezing your arms around his middle tightly as an answer.

“I guess I have to accept that you have eyes only for me. But you know, it’s hard to acknowledge it and believe it when you find everyone around you ten times more beautiful than you are,” you mumbled against his chest as you sat on his lap, and he nodded, feeling a lump rising in his throat.

“I know Y/N, I know. I wish I could rid you of those insecurities, my heart breaks each time I see you so unsure of yourself. You're just so beautiful and amazing, it honestly kills me to see you like this,” he whispered, and you bitterly chuckled, gently pulling away to look at him with pearly eyes, his arms around you holding you still tight, making sure that you wouldn’t go too far from him.

“You can’t do that, but maybe you can help me soothe them by keeping loving me the way you’ve done since day one,” you mumbled, and he smiled, his eyes shining with tears just like yours.

You both cupped each other’s face and sadly smiled at the other, Juyeon feeling comforted at the sensation of your thumbs wiping the tears away from his cheeks and vice versa.

“We just need time, love, but I promise I’m going to help you realise how much you mean to me and how beautiful you are. And how much I don’t care about other girls,” he mumbled, and he gently drew your face closer to his, your lips grazing against his mouth. You closed your eyes at the proximity, feeling so much love and passion in his kiss that it was getting hard to breathe.

“I love you so much, Y/N,” Juyeon pulled away from your lips and whispered against your mouth, his hot breath mixing with yours.

“I love you too,” you smiled, burying your face in his neck, your boyfriend kissing the crown of your head while hugging you tight.

You giggled as Juyeon applied pressure on your waist, making you fall on your side on the bed. His hand gently cradled your cheek, thumb caressing your cheekbone with a soft smile on his face. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead against his, feeling him chuckle and gently press his lips against yours.

[chilligyu]

info: lee jihoon/gender neutral reader, pg, best friends to lovers au genre: fluff, romance | word ct: 5.5k warnings: none summary: when it came to love, no one was prepared. not even jihoon, who could spend hours turning words into magic, especially when love was mysteriously delivered in the form of a letter to his locker. note: heavily inspired by to all the boys I've loved before, but with a twist! no love triangles or anything like that, so just enjoy awkward people falling in love! and thank you to @dreamystuffers and @starlightjoong for taking a sneak peek and telling me what you think!

tagging: @xfirebenderx, @moriiyun, @ohmygoshcheese, @gyu-log

Lee Jihoon, a genius in many ways, was never good when it came to words. At least, not the spoken kind. The kind that you had to think up on the spot, responses, answers, comebacks, small talk, he was absolutely terrible at it. But if you gave him the time to think, to really dwell on his thoughts, he could create something truly beautiful. Which was why he preferred to express his feelings with letters. And while, yes, he could pen something magnificent, the next great classic novel perhaps, he typically kept his messages short and to the point. Much like the man himself.

There was one time that he wrote a “letter” that was simply—

F U C K Y O U

—printed out on seven separate sheets of paper and taped to a row of lockers. All in response to a teacher confiscating his iPod. No one could prove it was him, though, and nothing happened in response to it. He never admitted to his crimes, and despite it being painfully obvious who the author of the message was, there was no hard proof pointing to the culprit. It became the most well-known secret at their high school. And Lee Jihoon became somewhat of a living legend because of it.

The only one who knew the truth was you. His best friend. You were his go-to when it came to proof reading all of his letters. He was the writer, you were the editor. Half the time you were also a berating parent, chastising him for trying to assault people with words. Which was also why, more often than not, his letters never got sent. He would sit in his room for hours, writing letters that were either half the length of novels or only a few sentences long, and after giving it over to be edited, it would get tucked away in his desk drawer. Never to be seen or heard from again.

See, Jihoon was an emotional person. Not in the sense that most people would assume, he didn’t get offended easily, one mean comment wouldn’t leave him crying, he was simply—emotional. Whatever he was feeling, whether it be good or bad, it was powerful, sometimes overwhelming. So instead of erupting like a hormonal volcano, which he had already done plenty of, he put his emotions to paper. At the behest of his aforementioned best friend.

“You can’t go around yelling at people.” You began one afternoon just after entering high school. “Even if you’re writing it down, you’re still yelling at people.”

Jihoon, the definition of “hard to read”, was visibly pouting. “You’re the one who told me to write down how I feel. Now I can’t even send these to anyone?”

“I mean, you can.” You backpedalled. “I’m not your mother, despite Seokmin’s insistence. I can’t stop you from doing anything you’ve set your heart to. All I can do is advise you not to because you’re going to have a terrible few years here if everyone hates you.”

He clearly wasn’t thrilled by your logical response, but he admitted defeat anyway. “Fine. Don’t send the letters that I write. I get it. No one wants to read them.”

You groaned loudly. “You are so dramatic. I’m saying don’t send the literal hate mail to people. Don’t send the stuff you write to vent out your feelings. But if there’s something you want to say to someone, something that you can’t bring yourself to say out loud, by all means! Send the thing! I know you loathe the idea of talking to people, you also hate being misunderstood more.”

He also hated how well you knew him, not that he would ever say that out loud.

That was also something he wrote down in a letter, one he decided to send.

You crumpled it up immediately and threw it back at his face.

“Letters are powerful things, Jihoon.” You added. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives with nothing more than words. Because words mean so many different things to so many different people. You just gotta say the right ones.”

At first, he was only humoring you. Honestly, he thought you completely senile until he gave it a shot. After spending hours hunched over his desk writing things no one else would see, he was starting to realize that maybe you had a point. Instead of roaming the halls shouting obscenities in his head, he was able to reassure himself by knowing he could write about it later. Even the smallest grievance, he would write it down. He would sometimes scribble it down on the margin of a textbook if he was feeling particularly overwhelmed in the middle of the day.

The letters became his therapy, his outlet, eventually he could stroll past some annoying upperclassmen and not feel rage coursing through his veins. It was—nice, almost. Not being subjected to his own hectic imagination at every turn. Feeling at peace for the first time in what felt like ages.

Until he found a letter in his locker, one addressed to him during his senior year. From a secret admirer. The contents of which would be seared into his memory for the remainder of time.

Lee Jihoon, it began.

I have never been able to tell you how I feel, in person or in a letter. For several months now, I’ve tried. I’ve tried to write letters like you for so long, and I just can’t get the words right. I don’t know how you do it. So I’m going to do something different. I’m going to stop being scared. If you meet me in the courtyard after school, I’m going to be brave for the first time in my life. Please help me be brave, Jihoon.

Again and again, he read that short letter. Practically baffled that someone out there wrote an honest-to-god letter that was addressed to an honest-to-god person. And that he wasn’t the writer, that he was the recipient. The thought alone made his heart race, and to comprehend that this secret admirer perhaps harbored feelings towards him? It was next to impossible. But no one writes a letter without true emotion behind it. That’s a fact he was coming to understand.

“I need you to come with me.” He told you after showing you the letter. “I’m—I’m not sure I can do this alone.”

You rolled your eyes. “Jihoon, obviously this person doesn’t want to make a public event out of their confession. You should really do this without me.”

“I know, and I’m not asking you to stand at my side or anything.” He reiterated. “Can you like—stand in a bush or something? If I know that you’re there I won’t feel the need to—"

“Did you just ask me to stand in a bush?” You guffawed. “You did not just ask me to stand in a bush Lee Jihoon because if you did then you’re about to get your ass kicked into next year!”

“I didn’t mean literally!” He quickly denied when he did, in fact, mean it literally. “Just—stand around the corner, okay? Be my moral support!”

Pursing your lips, you knew that there was no getting out of this. “Alright, fine. I’ll come with you. But I’m not happy about it.”

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.” He swore. “Have I ever told you that you’re the best?”

A smirk teased at your lips. “You could mention it more.”

“Consider it done.” Jihoon grinned, gathering up his things and heading for the door. “Don’t forget! After school! Courtyard! Don’t be late!”

Once he was gone and you were completely alone, your face fell in disappointment. “I wouldn’t dream of it…”

By the time that school was finally over for the day, Jihoon was a bundle of overactive nerves. He was excited and terrified and anxious and nauseous all at once. The bombarding sensations kept him cemented in place, gripping the edge of his desk until his knuckles were about to burst through. He had been like that for the entirety of their last class, still as a statue as a cold sweat broke out across his brow. You were standing in front of him, head tilted and wondering what he was planning to do next.

“Class is over.” You reminded him. “Everyone’s left.”

Very slowly, he nodded. “Y-yeah. I can see that.”

His voice sounded as if it had been completely stripped down. Like he had screamed himself hoarse by saying those few words.

“Your secret admirer is probably waiting.” You tried to spur him. “We should get going before I change my mind and head home.”

He audibly swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Well—maybe that’s best. Yeah, I can wait until tomorrow.”

You eyed him incredulously. “You’re going to stay here until tomorrow. You’re insane, get up.”

“I’d rather not.”

“And I’d rather not grow old and die here.” You countered. “C’mon, Jihoon. Your admirer asked you to help them be brave, how exactly is this helping them?”

He had to admit, you had a point. If they were brave enough to put their feelings out there, he had to at least meet them half way.

Sighing loudly, he started to pry his fingers off his desk. “Alright, fine. We’ll do things your way.”

You rolled your eyes for perhaps the hundredth time. “You’re absolutely insufferable. Why do I hang out with you?”

“Because I’m funny.” He said with the most serious face in the world.

Which actually made you laugh.

“I hate you.” You chuckled. “C’mon, let’s get going while we’re still young.”

Jihoon inhaled and exhaled deeply to calm himself down.

This is just the beginning.

Except—it wasn’t.

He stood in the courtyard, seemingly alone, with the note that brought him there clutched tight in his hand. As his moral support you were keeping your distance, as promised, but no one else joined you. Minutes passed and he did his best to remain hopeful. It was hard, especially when a familiar voice nagged at the back of his mind. The same one he struggled with every day to ignore.

No one would ever like you, so why did you bother thinking otherwise?

While the negative thoughts slowly took over, Jihoon didn’t know what to do next. He was defeated, almost destroyed. And even though you walked up behind him and took his hand in yours, it did little to stop the bitter tears from welling in his eyes.

“I should’ve known…” He whispered angrily. “This was all just—a joke. It’s always a joke. Who could ever like me?”

“Stop it, Jihoon.” You hissed at him, squeezing his hand tighter. “They said they were scared, maybe they couldn’t follow through with it. Maybe they were afraid of being rejected. You never know what’s going through someone’s head. Don’t beat yourself up, okay?”

Nothing you said was going to make him feel better. He quickly wrenched himself from your grip and backed away from you.

“I’m going home.” He clipped. “Bye.”

Before he left, he made sure to crumple up the note and toss it at your feet. When his heart was broken, he wore it on his sleeve. You understood what Jihoon was feeling, he had been living with an extremely low self esteem due to his height and his general inability to make friends for as long as you knew him. He was quiet, shy, reserved, he was slow to open up to others and hesitant to trust. That’s why you tried to be excited for him, and now that things hadn’t gone as planned in more ways than one your heart ached just like his.

The next day, Jihoon strolled into class like a drunk zombie. By the looks of him, he hadn’t slept a wink. Too busy being destroyed by his own thoughts to bother with anything like sustenance or sleep. He took up his seat beside you, and you immediately shoved your desk into his.

“Still upset?” You asked, even though you already knew the answer.

Sluggishly he lifted his head up and then quickly dropped it back down.

It was worse than you thought.

“Are you going to talk to me today?” You teased in an attempt to get a reaction. “Or am I going to have to go bother Hansol?”

Grumbling slightly, the barely responsive mass that was your best friend raised his hand and dropped a crumpled wad of paper on your desk. At first, you assumed it was just another one of his letters. They weren’t uncommon when he was feeling—unwell.

But it was another note from his secret admirer.

You were startled because he didn’t usually stop at his locker in the morning.

Lee Jihoon, it started similarly.

I’m sorry for not showing up yesterday, I was scared. I couldn’t bring myself to face you, please don’t be mad at me. I’d like to keep writing you letters, if that’s okay. Let’s get to know each other and maybe one day I can be brave again.

Once you were finished reading, you immediately began analyzing Jihoon’s face again. You had never seen him look like this before, completely vacant. While he was hard to read to the entire world, he was always an open book to you. Now reading him was nearly impossible even with your expertise.

“What are you gonna do?”

He shrugged lazily. “I don’t know. Sit here for the rest of eternity. Wait for the soft embrace of death.”

“Jihoon.” You exasperated. “We both know you’re not actually going to do that.”

Except he actually might and you actually couldn’t take that chance.

“Are you going to write them a letter?” You tried, again. “Maybe that will work out better.”

“I already did.” He murmured. “I don’t think they want to read it though.”

“Jesus Christ…” You groaned loudly, taking Jihoon’s face in your hands and looking him dead in his lifeless eyes. “They still like you, they’re scared and human like the rest of us, it is not the end of the world! Give them another chance and stop being such a goddamn drama queen!”

Silence. Pure unadulterated and perfectly aggravating silence.

“Alright, you leave me no choice. I’m bringing out the big guns.”

Being careful to keep an eye on the teacher, you pulled out your phone and started texting Jihoon’s mother. According to your message, you and Jihoon were going to be studying late at the library, and he would probably need to spend the night at your house. Which wasn’t a complete lie, maybe you would get some studying done. But, in all honesty, you had other things in mind.

“Take your pick.” You instructed, a box set in each hand. “Descendants of the Sun, or Record of Youth.”

Immediately after school, you dragged your best friend to your house and sat him down in front of the TV. Your parents didn’t even question it when you told them this intervention was a matter of life and death, that the patient might need to be admitted for the night. They simply let you do what needed to be done.

Jihoon, who had been relatively catatonic for the past 24 hours, finally showed a glimmer of something. He gave the slightest suggestion of a nod towards Descendants of the Sun and you happily popped in the first disk. As you claimed a spot beside him, popcorn and banana milk in tow, he naturally relaxed against you. You were the only person who got to see him unguarded like that, the only person he himself would allow. And while he was typically someone who kept his true self hidden from the world, there was a part of him that would forever belong only to you.

“Thanks.” He practically whispered, resting his head on your shoulder. “I—I needed this.”

“I know.” You smiled. “Are you ready to talk yet?”

He sighed heavily. “No. Not really. I still have a lot of thinking to do.”

“Well, if you need help thinking you know where I’ll be.” You offered without wanting to seem pushy.

If you weren’t mistaken, you could’ve sworn he actually chuckled.

“Yeah. I do.”

Little by little, your best friend was slowly returning to normal—or as close to normal as you’ve ever seen him. Eventually he started getting sucked into the drama, going rigid when things got tense, and actively pretended he wasn’t crying whenever You Are My Everything played. It was, overall, a job well done. You could sleep easy knowing that Jihoon would be just fine. As you drifted off, you felt him hold your hand and squeeze it gently.

Everything was going to be okay.

And if only to prove that point, the next day was nothing like the one before. Jihoon was back to his old self as if nothing had happened at all. Just another Thursday without a word or whisper about the chaotic tornado his secret admirer had unleashed onto your day-to-day life. He even had a letter for you to read by the time lunch rolled around. Apparently, some freshman irritated him over something seemingly small. At least—to you it seemed barely worth mentioning. But nothing ever really felt small to Jihoon. It was all or nothing, always living in black and white. Which meant that almost everything was important to him in some way. So you read the letter, and you edited it gladly.

Once you were done, he had something else for you. Another note from the admirer.

“This is the third one, right?” You murmured, glancing it over once before looking up at him. “Have you written back yet? Besides the one where I assumed you insulted their very existence with your entire arsenal of hurtful words.”

The blush crawling up his neck was an answer in and of itself, but the thick stack of paper he pulled out of his backpack solidified it.

“I’ve tried a few times.” He admitted hesitantly. “Nothing I write is good enough.”

“Oh, only a few times?” You teased, knowing full well that Jihoon’s definition of a few was the same as calling Jane Eyre a short shopping list. “What’s got you so stuck? Usually you have no issues penning essays over trivial things like cracks in the sidewalk.”

His brow furrowed defiantly. “Hey, proper sidewalk and road maintenance is important to modern infrastructure. If we start overlooking cracks in the pavement, then what? What about traffic lights? Can we afford to allow a single bulb to go out? No, of course not. That’s anarchy.”

You couldn’t believe your ears.

“Jihoon…” You started with an exasperated look. “I was joking.”

Trying to hide the fact that his blush was turning a deep crimson, and failing quite miserably, he pulled a paper from the stack and put it back in his bag. Also something he tried, and failed, to hide from you.

“Are you kidding me!” You laughed, raking a hand down your face. “Did you seriously have a letter in that pile you were going to send to our congressman?”

“No—yes—ugh!” He groaned. “Can we forget about the stupid sidewalk for a second! That’s not important right now! Help me! How do I do this?”

Deciding you had teased your best friend enough, you placed your chin in your hand and smiled at him. “How do you do what, exactly? I’ve never had anything to do with the letters you write, I just read them so someone knows how you’re feeling.”

Who were you kidding, you could never tease Jihoon enough.

He rolled his eyes so hard that he rolled his whole head with them. “Like you’ve ever needed further insight into my head, you always know what I’m thinking before I do.”

True.

“But I don’t understand the first thing about—this.” He finished with a labored sigh, gesturing sharply to the handwritten novel in front of him. “You know that better than anyone.”

Again, he was telling the truth. In the years you had known Jihoon he had never developed serious feelings towards someone else. He had barely entertained the notion since entering high school. He always talked himself out of it because feelings were complicated and bothersome. Plus, he was terrified of being rejected. Like most people are. His intrusive thoughts just so happened to be louder than most.

“I hate to break it to you, Jihoon,” You started in a whisper, “no one knows the first thing about this. Not even me. The only person who can help you is yourself.”

His sour expression made it obvious that he obviously didn’t like your response. “Great. Super helpful. Thank you for your continued wisdom.”

When he moved away from you, you grabbed him by the sweater and pulled him back in. “Why do you always stop listening to me when I’m about to make my point?”

He narrowed his eyes at you. “Because it takes you forever to fucking get there.”

“Alright, you got me there.” You chuckled. “Listen, I’m not kidding when I say that you’ve got to do this one on your own. As much as I can usually sense what feelings are doing somersaults in your stomach, this is a first for you and therefore a first for me. I’ve never seen you like this before, so unfortunately you’ve got to discover this one on your own.”

As you spoke, his features slowly softened until all that remained was a very nervous teenager who didn’t want to screw up his first real chance at love. That’s all Jihoon was at his core, that’s all anyone was.

But you had to admit he almost looked kind of cute.

Almost.

“How do you always know what to say?” He grumbled while crossing his arms. “It’s annoying.”

“You’ve got a really weird way of saying thank you.” You smirked playfully. “Well, maybe this last nugget of advice will get you started in the right direction.”

“Why are you always—” He seethed through his teeth. “How are you still not at whatever your point is!”

You shrugged, because you honestly had no clue. “I'll get there when I get there. You want to hear it or not—”

“Spit. It. Out.”

“Now is that anyway to—”

Wow. You stopped, suddenly fearing for your measly life. If looks could kill—

“Alright, alright, you win.” You conceded. “If you’re having issues writing a letter to your secret admirer, here’s my advice. Stop trying to put words to your feelings and start putting feelings into words. You’re spending too much time trying to say it perfectly that you’re not saying it at all. It doesn’t need to make sense to anyone else, it doesn’t even need to make sense to you. So long as you put them out into the world, they’ll be heard and one day they’ll be understood. You get me?”

The look on his face was—strange. You had a hard time placing it, which should’ve been weirder than it was. In fact, you were seeing lots of different sides to Jihoon lately, sides you never thought existed. This time his eyes widened, the aforementioned scarlet blush had disappeared, and there was a radiance to him that you had never seen before. Like suddenly he could see clearly through the storm of his thoughts.

“Thank you.” He exhaled with a smile. “I’ve never thought about it like that before.”

Feeling triumphant, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I’m starting to wonder what you’d do without me, Jihoon. Three days and you’ve been completely undone and redone by this letter.”

“Letters are powerful things.” He muttered. “They can break hearts, mend souls, and change lives. You taught me that.”

“I guess I’m a pretty good teacher.” You boasted, giving him a squeeze. “Despite the fact that I’m actually quite terrible with words.”

He shrugged off your arm. “Except you always know what to say, how exactly does that work?”

“Just because I can make you see reason doesn’t mean I’m good with words.” You laughed easily. “That simply means that I’ve perfected the art of understanding the impossible. Lee Jihoon. I can’t use words like you do. Trust me I’ve tried, I can never get the words right.”

For a moment, he didn’t have any sort of response. Which was definitely weird. It was a well-known fact that he was terrible with the sorts of words he had to speak, but he didn’t have issues when talking to you. That’s because you were friends, best friends. There had never been this sort of unnerving silence before. Not that you could remember, anyway.

What is going on in your head, Jihoon? You found yourself wondering since you couldn’t read his face. Have you started to figure it out?

“Sorry, I was thinking.” He muttered suddenly, shaking his head. “But I know what I need to write now. Will you read this one too? Even if it gets pretty long?”

“Of course!” You exclaimed with a smile. “When have I ever shied away from a challenge?”

The soft glisten in his eyes made your heart flutter.

“Never.”

When the bell rang and you parted ways, you wondered if Jihoon had ever written you a letter.

Well there’s a first time for everything.

For the next week, he was in full writer mode. And there were no more notes from his secret admirer, not that you expected there to be any. Every chance he got he was scribbling something down on whatever surface he could get his hands on. Textbooks, paper, his arm, he was more inspired than you’d ever seen before and nothing was going to stop him. He didn’t even come over to your house over the weekend, a ritual you hadn’t broken in the ten plus years you had known each other. It was a lonely week, for sure, but you knew it was for a good cause.

Then, after what felt like an eternity of silence, he approached you in the courtyard with a single sheet of paper in his hand.

“Hey…” He started uneasily, his grip tightening. “How’re you?”

Seriously? You mused to yourself with a smile. “I’m good, how’s the writing?”

“Done.” He clipped. “And—I think I covered everything.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, eyeing the sheet of paper. “With all of that writing I thought you’d have a novel for me.”

He shook his head, while a blush crawled up his neck. “Sometimes being concise is more effective than being overly wordy.”

“That’s true.” You grinned. “Easier for me to edit anyway.”

Nodding, he shoved the paper into your hand. “Here. Take your time, I don’t want you to rush it.”

“I won’t.” You promised, resisting the urge to start reading right away. “I know you put a lot of thought into this.”

With that, he turned around and walked off without another word. Leaving you holding something that looked like little more than pen ink on paper, but felt like a confession on fire. Once he was out of eyesight, you exhaled a breath you had been holding unintentionally and started reading.

To the person I have never loved before. It began, and you weren’t prepared for the roller coaster you had willingly climbed into.

This isn’t for the person I’ve loved all along, no. This is for you, someone who managed to stir my emotions more than a raging monsoon with only a few words and the hint of a promise. Who are you? I wondered to myself, because you were without equal. How could I have missed you? You were extraordinary. You didn’t have a face, all I had of you was a letter slipped into my locker, you were a ghost and I was set ablaze by your words. I had never felt like that before, my heart was unprepared. As was I. You made me question everything, and made me realize things I had never seen before.

What I felt for you wasn’t love, even though I thought it was at first. You presented me with feelings I decided I would never feel, so I could only assume that it was love. I felt like a live wire, ready to spark at a moment's notice. All I could think about was you. The infinite options and scenarios I dreamt up, all because of you, was astronomical. It was exhilarating, and I found myself drunk on the endless possibilities that you presented me. What else could make me feel that way, if it wasn’t love?

The answer was one I didn’t expect, and it hit me like a tsunami. I started to feel that way towards someone I already know. Someone who has cared for me more than anyone should, they have been my best friend for years so how could I suddenly feel the same way? How could my friendship for them become intertwined with the love I thought was solely reserved for you? And how could I have missed it after being enveloped by their warmth for so long?

You changed all of that. You made me see clearly for the first time in years and I was completely undone. Everything I knew was suddenly challenged, my feelings towards the most important person in my life changed without any warning, and I didn’t know what to do. How could I ask them, a friend, to see me as anything more? I was lost, trapped in an endless loop of destructive thoughts and desire. Desperately wanting to scream my feelings from the rooftop while fearing the voice that would have to put words to them. Your feelings for me awakened my feelings for them, and suddenly the words that have given me comfort for so long escaped me.

Still, you helped me.

In ways I can only thank with this letter.

You helped me because you are the one who told me to start writing letters. It’s always been you. You are the one who has given my thoughts meaning when I struggled to communicate with the world. One that could never understand someone like me. You are the one who wrote me a letter, asking a coward to help you be brave. It took me a while to realize that you were one and the same, but I picked up on the hints you left behind. I’m sorry it took me this long to figure it out.

Would you have showed up had I not asked you to come with me? I think about that often, were you only afraid because my initial thought was that there was no way it could be you? The impossible notion that my best friend could love me anymore than they already do? I have a thousand more questions I want to ask you, but I think I’m brave enough now to ask you in person.

So I’m going to end this letter here, because you deserve so much more than the words I’ve hidden behind for years. A letter I started to write for someone I thought I didn’t know, to the person I’ve never loved before. Funny, how it ended up being a letter to the person I’ve loved all along.

As you read the last line, tears already streaming down your face, you had never felt happier.

“You figured it out.” You whispered, almost in disbelief. “For a second there I thought you never would.”

You don’t know when Jihoon came back, but he was suddenly standing in front of you taking your hand in his. “It really shouldn’t have taken me that long, I’ve only seen your handwriting a thousand times before.”

Laughter bubbled past your lips as you dried your tears with your sleeve. “I was terrified that you would’ve figured me out from the very beginning. Looks like I really give you too much credit sometimes.”

“You do.” He agreed. “So, what did you think of the letter? Any edits you can think of?”

“This isn’t the type of letter that needs editing.” You stated plainly. “It would take away from the author’s meaning.”

“What would that be?” He asked, clearly teasing you. “Enlighten me.”

You shook your head defiantly. “No, no way. It’s your letter, why don’t you tell me what it’s supposed to mean?”

Part of him didn’t want to make it easy, that much you knew with absolute certainty. But, for the sake of time and your poor heart, he would let you off the hook. Just this once.

“That I love you.” He said softly. “More than anything else.”

Choking out a sob, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in close.

“I love you too, Jihoon.”

In the end, neither of you were good with words, but you only needed to know what to say to each other.

[maybedefinitely404]

Day 30: Dukexiety

Day 30 - When you look in the mirror, you can’t see your own reflection, just your soulmate. (Never heard of this prompt before, so I guessed)

Content warnings: maybe some anxiety? Just some wholesome for ya.

Word count: 1.5k

This ficlet is dedicated to @marshymoop. 

Virgil was told he had brown hair; the color of a walnut. Sometimes if he grew it out long enough, he could just catch a glimpse of the color when it fell into his eyes. Apparently those were brown too. 

A friend of his mom’s was an artist and had drawn him when he’d turned thirteen, but it hadn’t looked right. The face staring back at him from the canvas didn’t feel like his at all. He didn’t recognize the curve to the nose or the bags under the eyes; it just looked like a stranger. The more he looked, the more uneasy he felt, and he’d tucked it into the back corner of his closet, never to look at it again.

His reflection, where he’d seen the face of his soulmate since he was a baby, was far more familiar to him.

Black hair streaked with white.

Sharp green eyes.

A smattering of freckles over olive skin.

Sometimes it was odd, smearing makeup under eyes that weren’t technically his, and trying to fix hair that was shorter than what showed in the reflection, but it was a problem everyone had until they met their soulmate. He just hoped that the dark clothes looked as good on the real him as it did on his reflection. 

 ---

Virgil was struggling to focus on the textbook paragraph in front of him when his phone chimed. It was a welcome distraction from the existential quandaries that came with Philosophy 103. Just a quick break, he promised. 

 Remus: heyyyyyyy

 Aaaand there was that plan out the window. He couldn’t care less though, studying be damned, because now his heart was pounding and a nearly painful smile was stretching his cheeks. It had been a week since Remus had messaged him, and the pent up joy was all coming out at once. 

 You’re back! He replied amidst flapping hands. How was camping? His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. 

 I missed your messages. I missed you. I was lonely.  

 He said nothing.

 Remus: i caught a squirrel. i couldn’t keep it though

 Virgil: Did you name it at least?

 That’s adorable. You’re adorable and a goof and amazing.

 Remus: Yep. Squirrely Temple

 A picture message showed up moments later, showing a surprisingly relaxed squirrel sitting in a styrofoam cup, a single peanut clasped in it’s little hands. The taker of the photo wasn’t visible, though that was to be expected. 

The next one featured what Virgil assumed was the same squirrel, this time wearing a crudely constructed paper top hat. It held another peanut, and once again seemed shockingly unconcerned. 

The photo was quickly replaced with a call screen and Virgil accepted it eagerly, still laughing.

 “Did you see the squirrel?” Remus asked excitedly, to which Virgil could only laugh harder.

 “Why is it in a hat?” He wheezed.

 “I made it out of sap and a brochure I found. I think Squirrely Temple looked rather dapper.” The grin was evident in Remus’ voice.

 “And you didn’t keep it?” Virgil inelegantly kicked his schoolwork off the bed to lay across it, grabbing his fidget cube from the side table.

 “Nah, something about preserving wildlife and not having enough room at home,” he yawned, “Me an’ Roman gave him plenty of peanuts before we left though. A whole pile on a wood stump.”

 “You sound tired,” Virgil teased. There was a small twinge in his chest at the idea of Remus going to bed already. He’d been off the grid for a week. Virgil was loath to admit, but he’d missed his friend more than expected. 

 “I think my body just sees an actual bed and the ‘tired’ protocol is,” Another yawn, “activated.”

 Virgil yawned in tandem. “You should probably sleep, then.” He tried to keep the disappointment from his voice. 

 “Take your own advice, and I’ll consider. When’s the last time you got six hours of sleep?”

 “Consecutively?” 

 Remus snorted. There was a whoosh of air as he dropped onto his bed, and a brief lull in the conversation before he spoke up. “I think I’d rather talk to you than sleep, actually.”

 Damn, how was he supposed to respond to that? He pressed a cool hand to his reddening cheeks, glad the other couldn’t see him. “Wow, is that genuine emotion coming from Remus?” Virgil retorted instead. We can talk for hours if you want. I missed talking to you. 

 “My bad, I think I still have some fresh air in my system.”

 God, he’d missed him. A single week had felt like a whole year without their constant interaction and updates throughout their days. They’d only known each other for months (had it only been months?) but in that time, talking to each other had become so ingrained in their lives, it seemed wrong to not wake up with his phone blown up from messages. It was so effortless, wasting hours away but feeling like no time had passed at all. It meant the world to Virgil.

 And despite their jokes and snarky conversations, he had a feeling it meant a lot to Remus too.

 It was as if he blinked, and the sun had set in the sky. The room had gradually turned dark as ink but Virgil couldn’t be bothered to flip on the lights, not when he was so captivated by Remus’ voice as he recounted his family camping trip. He didn’t notice nor care; this was more important.

Only when Remus’ yawns grew closer and closer together did it occur to him that the other was several hours ahead, blasted timezones. It would be early morning there.

 “I think you should try to sleep,” Virgil grinned as Remus tried and failed to keep talking through another yawn.

 “Maybe,” He sighed.

 “Talk tomorrow?” For the first night in a bit, Virgil felt that same, familiar warm bubble in his chest.

 “I actually had a question for you, first.”

 Pop.

 Remus sounded uncharacteristically nervous, putting Virgil on edge instantly. Everything he’d ever done wrong flooded through his mind. Oh god, how did he find out about the third grade Christmas concert?

 “Do you want to vid chat?” He blurted.

 Virgil’s breath caught in his throat.

  “Like, tomorrow. Or not. It’s okay if not.”

 Remus never stuttered. Something about it was unbelievably adorable. 

 “Just for fun, because we haven’t before, but if you don’t want to there’s no pressure-”

 “Yes.”

 All blubbering screeched to a halt on the other end, and Virgil couldn’t decide if his predominant emotion was anxiety or excitement. Besottedness, maybe? Either way, it made his face heat up to the tips of his ears and his feet wiggle.

 “Yes?”

 “Yeah, let’s do it.”

 “Okay!” Remus let out a relieved laugh that bordered on a giggle, “When?”

 “I end classes at one tomorrow.” 

 The man murmured his way through timezone math for a moment. “Yeah! Yeah, okay! I can do that! Yes!”

 Virgil bit his lip, but a laugh made its way through anyways. “I can’t wait.”

 -----------

 Whatever confidence Virgil had developed the day before, it had completely evaporated by the next morning. His mind wandered during classes, too busy coming up with worst case scenarios. What if the connection sucked? What if they spoke over each other and it was awkward? What if they had nothing to talk about and it got awkward? What if they weren’t compatible face to face? It added a whole new layer to their relationship they hadn’t explored before.

 What if they weren’t friends by the end of it? 

 He was equal parts relieved and petrified when his final class ended and there was nothing between him and the call. The whole walk back to his dorm was spent watching the numbers on the clock tick by, each minute sending a rush of adrenaline through him until he was sure he’d collapse from nerves right there on the path way. 

A text from Remus came through three minutes before their agreed time.

 Remus: Ready?

 NO, he wanted to scream. There were too many variables, they were leaving the comfort zone and that’s where Virgil thrived!

 Virgil: 5 mins

 He set up his computer and paced around his room for the remainder of his time. His eyes caught a blur of motion in the mirror and he turned to his reflection, his flapping hands slowing as he studied the face before him as he’d done hundreds of times before. Not his face, but the only one he knew as his.

A part of him was suddenly weighed by guilt as he looked into those bright eyes, because the guiltier part of him knew what he had was a crush. A helpless one, at that. And a hopeless one. What was the point pining after someone when the universe had already handpicked someone else for him? 

Stupid universe and it’s stupid soulmates. 

The chime of an incoming call startled him out of his reverie and he swore under his breath. He tried to soothe down his hair, rub the stress from his eyes, but it was hopeless when he couldn’t see if it actually looked okay.

He sat in his desk chair and took a few measured breaths before clicking accept. The video stuttered and glitched before it finally settled, and Virgil’s breath caught in his throat. 

 Black hair streaked with white.

 Sharp green eyes.

 A smattering of freckles over olive skin. 

 The silence stretched between them for achingly long before Remus beamed into the camera, and it was the most beautiful thing Virgil had ever seen.

 “Well, hello there, soulmate.”

Taglist:

@max-is-tired

@joylessnightsky

@marshymoop

[jadelynlace]

Keeping Secrets⎮Ink Drinker Modern Vikings AU Blurb [Ivar x F!Reader]

☞ catch up on the series here.

☞ additional anon request can be found here.

author’s note: We’re headed back in time to before everyone knew, and while on vacation with his family, Ivar nearly loses his mind because he finally figures out that he wants to tell them. The divider is by @firefly-graphics​ & the quote towards the end is from this page, which I encourage every Vikings fan to check out!​

content warnings: Smut: outdoor sex (kinda?), car sex, and just the general gist of Ivar navigating himself with his dick. Also some bickering, which really is just added foreplay at this rate. And, because I can’t help myself: Ivar in his feels.

word count: 1600+ words

pairing: Ink Drinker Modern Ivar x F!Reader

Somewhere on the forefront of your mind, it sounded like a good idea, in retrospect. You’d tag along for the week, just to spend the extra time off with the man you saw nearly every day; and in hindsight, it should be fun. But his twin brother, built tall with those blues eyes sent the whole trip to foul your mood. You had to pretend to loathe him, even while his essence from the night before was still leaking from you.

Hvitserk was your best friend, through everything, and you still could not fathom the possibility of speaking the ill words of you and Ivar. Your mind concluded he would lose it, his brain would cave in on itself, unable to accept such an occurrence. Even when you knew better of this man.

It had been three days of stolen glances, bedroom eyes, and secret text messages between you and Ivar. His words—complaints of lack of affection as if there wasn’t the remainder of his family in the same vicinity. And as much as he craved you, you craved him. 

“Hvitty, do you mind if I take your truck into town?” You ask suddenly over coffee. “I’ll do the food and alcohol run for today,” 

“Yeah, knock yourself out,” Hvitserk replies through a mouthful of food. 

“Do you mind if I tag along?” Ivar says then and you cough through a quick inhale of your coffee.

“So you can knock me out?” You try and Ivar only rolls his eyes in pretend distaste.

“No, there’s an art shop on the corner near the liquor store, that’s all,” Ivar grumbles at you, raises his lip and you have half the mind to challenge him, and full intent to do it.

“And?”

“Why are you such a—Hvitserk is she always like this?” Ivar asks, tossing his crumpled napkin at his brother, and even though he was trying his best to find anger with you, his lips still couldn’t call you a name.

“Just take him Y/N,” Hvitserk groans. 

You’re through with your shower, navigating your way through the water with your phone, sending quick image after image to Ivar and you’re shocked he hasn’t snapped the damn device into two pieces. A tease of you covering your folds with his favorite garments, you’re dressed and waiting in the driver’s seat for him. But he’s silent most of the ride, the cabin offers a low hum to his playlist, the turn signal every now and again as you both steal glances at one another.

“There’s a better lot at the end of the street,” Ivar says as you turn the wheel, still unable to park the vehicle in a spot that’s unoccupied. “Trust me,” He mumbles back, eyes still on his phone and you take his word for it, finally finding a decent spot that’s nowhere near any life or commotion.

When you shift the truck to park, the engine dies and Ivar’s phone is nearly flying from his hand, arms reaching across the center console to grab your face. Locking your lips with his and you can hear the tell-tale moan from deep in his chest and he opens your mouth with his tongue.

“Thank god,” You whisper softly, pulling back just enough for Ivar to rest his forehead on yours.

“I want to tell them so badly,” Ivar mumbles meekly and the tone of his voice sends an ache through your heart.

“We just have to wait it out,” You reply, still shocked that he even spoke of it. 

“My left hand is not the same,” Ivar groans against your lips and you can’t stop the giggle the passes, cupping his face as he melts into your touch.

“Tell me why you picked this parking lot,” You say. 

“Why do you think I picked this parking lot?”

“Because no one will hear either of us moan?”

“Get in the back seat of the truck, or help me God—” Ivar starts as you suddenly pull away, detaching your seat belt and nearly throwing the door from the truck.

You’re hardly able to close the next respective door as Ivar reaches for you, settling you over his lap and you both moan when covered middle brush one another. As if you two are teenagers, wild animals when it’s only been three days. Not even the longest drought between the two of you but the time acting as enemies only adds fuel to the ever-raging fire.

“Do we have a time limit?” You ask back as Ivar’s hands slide along your chest.

“No—how long do I usually take in an art store?” He asks, fingers moving and you let another noise of pleasure slip.

“A long fucking time,” You whisper and Ivar only smiles, your hands tangling into his hair, tugging the hair tie free as he pulls your mouth to his. 

“Are you alright if I’m bare?” Ivar mumbles against your mouth and he can feel you nod, your fingers reaching for his belt and even the slight touch of that makes him moan. “Put it in for me,” Ivar breathes.

Through a raise in your thighs, you wiggle what you’re wearing to move enough, exposing your center and Ivar’s groan grows twice as loud. Trying to keep himself from tearing the material from your thighs, it’s a complicated maneuver to finally shed from your clothes, the two of you sharing snickers as you move.

When your thighs cross each side of his, Ivar pulls you closer once more, your hand creeping up his shaft before you sink down onto him. Hissing alongside him, your mouth finally drops, letting a moan crawl through and Ivar’s hips buck immediately as he bottoms out. You hear his head drop back against the panel, groaning with biceps that crush against you, and you both savor the sensation. 

When his blue eyes finally catch yours, there’s a small flick of your hips that makes his lashes flutter, trying to will himself to stay present as your walls squeeze him. You can feel his hands move then, catching your sides as he helps you move, dropping his forehead to rest against yours and you only whimper.

“We should just tell them,” Ivar whispers but you shake your head, not knowing if the groan he lets out is out of pleasure or frustration.

“Just keep fucking me Ivar, we’ll worry about that later,” You peep back before you’re bounced in his lap. Dropping your head back suddenly, Ivar’s lips trail along the exposed skin, careful to leave the flesh bare in his wake, and with a graze of his teeth, you only moan. Leaning back against him as you roll your hips much more quickly, chasing the band that starts to coil in your stomach.

Ivar bounces you as do, his hands on your hips as he rocks you, thrusting up into you while his cock brushes that golden spot that makes you cry out. His mouth swallowing the noises because they’re his, even as they echo through the truck, fogging the windows and you can feel Ivar’s muscles tense under your fingertips.

“Inside?” He grumbles, trying to hold his composure with your walls as they squeeze him and you nod, panting as his moans change in octave with the closer he finds himself. “You have to come first baby,” He then adds.

“I’m so close—” You whimper, humming as you bite down on your bottom lip and Ivar pushes up into you again and again, the repeated force finally sending you over the edge. As you tip, Ivar pulls you closer, mouth to yours with no movements as he twitches alongside you, filling you up while you both pant into each other's mouths. 

“Fuck baby,” Ivar groans, heart beating in his ears, and his eyes finally open to see you watching him, eyes full of adoration stuck on him and he smiles softly. “Hey gorgeous,” He says.

“Hi, Ivar,” You smile back before pulling his mouth to yours. “Let's go get our stuff—if you’re fast enough in the art store we can do this again,” You tease and it only causes Ivar to snicker.

“One more minute,” Ivar says softly, leaning back against the seat as his arms wrap you, laying you against his chest and you only hum. “I don’t get to hold you enough,”

*

“How was the art store?” Ubbe asks you, a sly smile on his face and you only crease your brow in worry that the act is written across your forehead.

“I didn’t go in, why do you ask?” You say back, standing your ground.

“Ivar has a challenging personality, that’s all,” Ubbe shrugs. “I know you can handle your own though, but if he ever does something that you don’t like just tell me. He’s always been a...challenge,” Ubbe shrugs and your heart sinks for a moment. Maybe Ivar wants to tell them so badly so they can stop putting him on the pedestal of evil nature.

“A challenging personality?” You reply back and you almost want to laugh because no one makes you feel how Ivar does. Loved and accepted and you’re glad you’re the only one who sees that side of him.

“He means that sometimes he can be a dick, but mostly he’s just a jerk,” Bjorn echos from his spot. But you bite your tongue regarding knowing him in the ways that you do; because Ivar is the farthest from either scenario when he’s treated with the love and respect he so craves.

“It must run in the family,” You hum, shrugging as you offer each man a smile. You pass by the living room, offering Ivar a smile that he gladly repeats as he and Hvitserk enthrall themselves in the video game. When the match ends, Ivar finally speaks up:

“Listen, brother,” Ivar starts from the couch. “Y/N and I—”

“Wait, what time is it? Oh god—hold that thought, my roast is going to burn!” Hvitserk nearly yells as he jolts from the couch.

Ink Drinker Tags:

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full masterlist can be found here. ⎮ requests are closed!

[robininthelabyrinth]

Curse-breaker (Chapter 3/4)

- ao3 -

There were more guards than usual around the Unclean Realm, undoubtedly as a result of Wen Ruohan’s refusal to move from their gate, but that wasn’t a problem for them.

They knew all the ways in and out.

New ways, like the hole in the wall their little brother had teamed up with his best friend to carve out so that the two of them could leave little gifts and pass messages to them, and old ways, ancient ways, the ways of the dead that they’d learned from the still-lingering saber spirits that burned in rage and hate forever like an endless longevity candle.

Rage, and hated – but also love.

The saber spirits didn’t have to keep burning, keep fighting, but that was what their masters had wanted, and so they did. They fought against evil, time and time again, forever and always, and through their endless battle, in their hearts, their masters were never truly lost.

It was that simple.

It was that complicated.

It was time, they thought, to straighten things out. The saber spirits meant it as a gift, but the masters saw it as a burden; that wasn’t how it was meant to be at all – they just didn’t understand each other, steel and flesh speaking different tongues, meaning different things. The gaping chasm of understanding between life and not-life, which no one could bridge.

Well.

No one until them, anyway.

If a fish and a bird fell in love, where would they live?

On the shore, they thought. Right in the middle.

All they needed was someone to tell them that was an option.

It was time.

They passed like a formless spirit themselves through the many walls and guards in their path, heading to the sect leader’s study, as familiar to them as their own palms. Inside they found what was familiar, too: the heat-rage-pride pulse of Jiwei, resting in pride of place by her master’s side, and beside her was her master, their father, standing with his hands folded behind his back and looking out the window into the distance as if it would give him answers to questions that had eaten away at him his whole life.

They approached.

They were detected, of course.

“I already said that I didn’t want to be disturbed,” their father said, and although they had snuck close many times to hear him speaking, that beloved voice more familiar to them than their own, not daring to talk to him as they did to Huaisang who had always promised to keep their secret, there was still something different about hearing it so near, without walls between them.

They sighed happily.

“Didn’t you hear me? I said…Jiwei? What’s gotten you so excited –”

Their father turned.

His jaw dropped, eyes going wide and round as saucers, an absurd and silly look that suited him so much better than did the grim scowl and sad listlessness, interspersed with increasingly frequent bouts of uncontrollable rage, that he wore on his face more often than not these days.

What they had in mind would hurt, they knew, and equally they knew that they would not be able to act if they did not act fast – they were loathe to hurt people, much less people that they loved, and those that they loved would be equally unable to bear to see them hurt, yet both were necessary now, if they were to do what they had decided to do.

They did not allow themselves time to doubt.

They moved forward as quickly as a saber strike, sure and true, and their hands connected with their father’s chest and belly, heart and dantian both, with enough power to knock the breath out of him, taking advantage of his shock to strike when he would not even think of dodging.

In that moment of breathlessness, they latched on – latched on, and pulled.

What-are-you-doing-stop-that, Jiwei said, but even her ceaseless rage was blunted by the joy of seeing them once more.

You are hurting him.

I-am-not-I-am-refining-him-I-am-strengthening-him-as-he-strengthens-me-He-is-my-master-and-I-love-him.

You are hurting him, they insisted. Flesh is different. Flesh is brittle. Too much strength, and he will break.

Let me show you.

It hurt, of course, just as they’d expected. Not as much as when they’d shattered, though, and it was that – and perhaps only that – that allowed them to persist, using themselves as a cauldron, forcing their qi that was neither wholly spiritual nor resentful, neither fully alive or un-alive, through their father’s meridians, reshaping them as they went to be something capable of accepting the harsh, resentful, corrosive love of a saber spirit.

When they were done, their father stared at Jiwei, hearing her sing in his soul with an unprecedented clarity, feeling her love for him the way she meant for it to be felt, feeding his own love back to her in equal measure, giving everything of himself without holding back to the only thing on earth that he had ever loved without restraint.

His eyes were clear.

“A-Jue,” he whispered. “A-Jue…what is this?”

“A gift,” they said, their voice raspy with disuse. “Of many years making. I’m sorry that it took so long.”

Their father, unbreakable, burst into tears.

-

Later, when their father, his eyes still wet (though now from laughter rather than relief), told them about the ‘curse’, about his promise, about the rumors, and even about Wen Ruohan waiting for the chance to repent of his regrets, they thought about it for a while and said: “Let me see him.”

-

Wen Ruohan had done many things worthy of condemnation in his long life.

He had schemed and plotted, playing the hero and the villain both in their turn; he had fought in wars of such brutality that the current generation could not even begin to comprehend them, and he had also murdered in vile and underhanded ways, abandoning all integrity and righteousness, to ensure that such wars did not happen again. He had sought to strengthen himself by means both fair and foul, betrayed who he had to betray and stepped on who he had to step on; he had followed his ancestor’s path with his head held high until he had very nearly become a god.

He was not accustomed to regret.

Not accustomed did not mean immune: there were things he regretted, of course. The loss of his first family, the two sons and a daughter that he had failed so thoroughly that he still could not stand to hear the sound of their names, each one declared utterly taboo within the Nightless City – the wife he had married for power and then divorced in a fit of temper, driving her and her not-so-secret lover to the end of their rope in unspeakable desperation – the faithful servants he had sacrificed as pawns in his power plays and only afterwards realized how much he had relied upon them –

His brother.

His curse.

If by some miracle of fate he could choose to change a single thing in the ancient life that he had so far lived, it would unquestionably be the death of his brother.

Wen Ruohan had had quite a few brothers, in fact – his father, much like the usual style of leaders of the Wen sect, had fancied himself both empire-builder and emperor, and had had children accordingly, both his own and those he’d adopted, with all the headache-induing and often life-threatening dramatics associated with that – but to Wen Ruohan, there had only really ever been one that mattered.

Only one.

Wen Ruohan didn’t even remember any longer whether Wen Ruoyu had been his blood-related brother, sharing a father and maybe a mother, or if he’d been some child seized from another sect and given the Wen surname to help grow their power. It hadn’t mattered to him back then and it didn’t matter to him still, for all that he now prized his personal bloodline even above merit.

All that mattered was that Wen Ruohan had loved Wen Ruoyu more than he’d ever loved anything in his life, more than his sect, more than cultivation, more than power, and that Wen Ruoyu had died not knowing it. Had died cursing his name, spitting blood onto his face, fingers scrabbling at his neck in a futile attempt to choke him, wishing with his final breath that Wen Ruohan would never again know a single moment of peace.

Well, he hadn’t.

Ever the dutiful brother, he closed his eyes to nightmares, and woke to dreariness. He madly sought power enough to ensure that such a thing would never happen to him again, only for his obsessive quest to drive his few remaining loved ones into the grave; he had very nearly succeeded in becoming a god, and lost all interest in life in the process. The only joys remaining to him were his ever-growing power, his ever-expanding sect, and, sometimes, the blood and pain of other people, which he used as a reminder that he was not truly alone in this world.

And Lao Nie, of course.

Wen Ruohan had almost entirely succeeding in sealing off all of his emotions by the time Lao Nie showed up, smiling and carefree and reckless, half in love with the death he knew awaited him – showed up and battered down all of Wen Ruohan’s defenses. Wen Ruohan wished, now more than ever, that he had carried on in his attempts to make himself a true god, above all humanity, and not yielded to the siren call of friendship. Perhaps if he had been a god, he wouldn’t have been so hurt when Lao Nie barreled onwards with his life, leaving him behind not once but thrice – perhaps he wouldn’t have tried to kill him.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have nearly murdered the little boy that Lao Nie had on occasion shoved into his arms during a visit, no matter how many times Wen Ruohan reminded him that it was inappropriate – the little serious one who looked so bewildered by it all but who still called him Sect Leader Wen the way Wen Ruohan instructed rather than listening to his father’s not-quite-joking suggestions of ‘Uncle Wen’, the little crybaby that had all unknowingly once tricked Lan Qiren into a logical conundrum that had made the man’s mind splutter out like a machine falling all to bits while Wen Ruohan and Lao Nie had roared with laughter…the one that had been charming enough to make him change his mind and opt to keep little Wen Xu around instead of sending him out to be adopted into the branch families the way he had with the other children he’d refused to acknowledge, mourning as he still did his first family.

He hadn’t meant to hurt Nie Mingjue.

Not like that, anyway.

It’d taken some time for the regret to creep in – his initial bout of horror had been more shock and irritation at having hit the wrong target, the shame of making such an elementary error to hit a boy he hadn’t seen in years rather than the man standing right in front of him, and then he’d shrugged it off, thinking to himself that the loss of a son would be as good a way to punish Lao Nie as the loss of his life. It wasn’t until his spies in the Unclean Realm came back and described to him what he had wrought…

Nie Mingjue didn’t look anything like Wen Ruoyu, not really, but in Wen Ruohan’s dreams he wept tears of blood in just the same way, spitting up foam as his eyes rolled in his head, dying – dying – dead.

Not dead.

It wasn’t a curse, Wen Ruohan knew, but if there was something he could do – anything he could do – he would do it.

He had to.

“You have to let him go,” someone said, and Wen Ruohan looked up in surprise: he’d been waiting for half a day already and god or no god, his legs were numb with sitting.

He didn’t recognize the too-tall young man who stared down at him, one eyeball eerily colored red and steel grey – the young man’s clothing was non-descript and ill-fitting, mismatched as if he’d picked it off some laundry pile without thought of coordination. There was something of the Nie in his face, the breadth of his shoulders, but his features were finer and sharper, his waist more slender, his fingers lacking in the familiar calluses of the saber; he looked like he’d be a fierce war god when he’d grown into his body but that he hadn’t quite gotten there yet.

His golden core shone.

Wen Ruohan stared. His lust for power had long ago become an essential part of him, and in front of him was power, power at such a young age – if he could claim that cultivation for his own, maybe he could stop describing himself as nearly a god, could actually call down a heavenly tribulation and leap up to join the heavens in a single bound.

And then, maybe then, at last, he could have peace.

“You have to let him go,” the young man said a second time, and Wen Ruohan was distracted by wondering what he meant, not sure he understood and not entirely sure he cared. “That’s the only way. You have to let him go.”

He shifted forward, and something inside Wen Ruohan warned that he would strike.

It seemed ridiculous, though. Wen Ruohan, the finest living master of arrays, was not afraid of anything this young man might try to do – only a spiritual sword could pierce his armor, and even that, only one that took him utterly by surprise. No one would dare try to strike him.

Especially not this young man, who carried neither sword or saber.

Perhaps that was why Wen Ruohan never saw it coming – the young man’s hand moved in a jabbing motion, the way a sword would swing, and suddenly, impossibly, there was sword intent given physical form through spiritual energy, piecing through his defenses, slashing down at him and aiming right at his neck.

-

“Let me get this straight,” Lan Qiren said, rubbing his forehead. “Nie Mingjue reappeared after something like ten years out alone in the wild, and when he did he brought some sort of technique that just…fixed the Nie sect cultivation issue. The one that was killing you, and has been killing your ancestors for – generations.”

Lao Nie nodded.

“And then you allowed him to see Sect Leader Wen, who he attacked…in a way that happened to mimic some old tragedy that has apparently haunted him for years, thereby allowing him to resolve some long-held heart demon. And now Sect Leader Wen has retreated into seclusion in order to explore this moment of enlightenment further, and doesn’t intend to bother the rest of us for a while. Certainly not by continuing his schemes to take over the cultivation world.”

“That’s right,” Lao Nie said. “Though I don’t expect he’ll be in seclusion all that long; the Wen sect doesn’t practice –”

Lan Qiren held up a hand, indicating he wasn’t done and didn’t appreciate being interrupted.

Lao Nie obediently fell silent.

“And then,” and by now Lan Qiren was speaking through somewhat gritted teeth, “when Sect Leader Jin rushed over because he wanted to get in on what he perceived to be Wen Ruohan’s attempted takeover of the Qinghe Nie, your son attacked him, too – except in this case, he crippled him.”

“I did say anyone who trespassed would be killed on sight,” Lao Nie said, entirely unbothered. Because of course he wasn’t – why would anyone think that suddenly being freed of a lifetime’s death sentence would make him less reckless and shameless? If anything, his overwhelming joy had just made him even more arrogant and inclined to insist on getting his own way. “It’s been known for years, and no exceptions have ever been made, not even for sect leaders. Why should Jin Guangshan think himself different?”

“That’s a terrible excuse,” Lan Qiren scolded. “And besides the point.”

“What is the point?”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth, then stopped, thought it over, and sighed. “The point is, I suppose – are you going to the Jiang sect next?”

Lao Nie blinked. “The – Jiang sect? Why?”

“Because instead of the cultivation world breaking the ‘curse’ on your son, your son has apparently taken to breaking the curses of the cultivation world,” Lan Qiren said dryly. “And he’s already gotten four out of the five Great Sects, so why not complete the set?”

Lao Nie’s lips quirked. “Four? I can see the others: my Nie sect’s qi deviations, Wen Ruohan’s madness for power, the Jin sect’s terrible luck in getting that scheming old lecher selected as their next sect leader…but what did he do for the Lan sect?”

“It was in his name that you forced my brother out of seclusion all those years ago,” Lan Qiren pointed out. “And now I spend half of every year traveling wherever I wish, and the other half teaching; it is everything I would have wanted. Meanwhile, my brother has finally through his children learned what it means to care for others instead of rotting to death in a self-imposed grave built from ill-fated love…if that’s not curse-breaking, what is?”

[todoscript]

Love Capsule

anonymous requested: Can I request a Bakugou scenario where the reader and the Bakusquad drag him out on a shopping trip and they see a whole section of vending machines and decide to check them out to see what cute, tasty or weird things they can find and the reader and Bakugou either get lost/ditched or squeezed together in a tight row but they have a good time and maybe the reader got a rare all might mysery figure and Bakugou wants it, so they they he can have it in exchange for a date?

genre: fluff pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 4.8k+ warnings: bakusquad shenanigans. bakugou cursing. pining.

author’s note: My Bakugou angst fic isn’t done yet but I wrote this request on the side. I wanted to have something to publish after not posting any written work for awhile so I did my best to get this out asap. sorry if it seems rushed! (also reposting this because the post stopped showing up in the tags).

There are only a fair bit of things Bakugou loathes more than wasting his valuable time. And that includes wasting that time by getting dragged into public places he has no desire to be, alongside the four most senseless nitwits the boy has ever had the displeasure of befriending.

It feels less like a friend group to him and more of a gathering of idiots as he watches four out of the six huddle around the aisle of vending machines across the mall. Where’s the other one, you might ask? You’re standing right next to him, sipping a bottle of sweet lemon tea dispensed to you from those vending machines.

“Ooh, look at this one!” The other girl in his squad, styling unruly pink hair, pokes a finger toward a blue machine in particular. What she finds interesting about it is that it’s absent of all buttons except a single one above the coin slot.

“Says here that you only have to pay a hundred yen for a mystery item,” Sero reads the instructions printed boldly across the surface, his grin showing his pearly whites. “Can range from food to even toys and cheap plastic jewelry.”

Popping up behind his taller friend, Kaminari squints incredulously at the sign before his eyes brighten like he’s concocted a conspiracy. “No, dude, I’ve heard of these kinds of vending machines before! They want you to think it’s some ordinary convenience vending machine, but these things actually have some super-secret big prize hidden inside!”

“Uh, no, that’s how you get your money robbed from you, Kaminari,” Kirishima tells the blonde, and yet his warnings end up floating from one ear and flying out the other. Kaminari fishes out a small stash of coins taut in between the lint balls of his pockets.

“Yeah yeah, just wait until you eat those words when I come home with a Playstation 5!”

“Why would there be a Playstation 5 of all things in there?” Ashido asks skeptically. She notes the small slot near the bottom, appearing sizable to dispense a large water bottle at most.

“Okay, maybe not an actual PS5, but probably the voucher you take to the game store to retrieve one, of course!” He waves the doubt away as he kneels and begins his succession of slotting coins in the machine until agitation eventually ebbs his features. About five hundred yen down the drain and all he’s amounted with in exchange are two Gudetama keychains, two packets of off-brand oreo cookies, and one can of that cheap instant black coffee he dislikes. Though if it’s one thing, he and the drink have in common it’s that they’re both positively bitter.

Kirishima, Sero, and Ashido all snicker wryly behind him while he deadpans at the snotty series of prizes with the skin between his eyebrows crinkled in defeat. Ashido takes this as the time to move along the row, dragging her sullen blond friend by the elbow. “Moving on! I want to get to the one with the Yakult drinks already!” She points onward and leads her compadres down the treasure trove of intriguing automated food vendors. Two of the boys press forward enthusiastically. Kaminari has to be lugged out of his brooding in order to play along.

“God, please just take me out already,” Bakugou mutters while leering his signature miffed face behind them. According to the giggle he registers chiming to his left, it seems you heard his complaints.

“Hm, not having a good time, I’m guessing?” you ask. The metallic edge of your lemon tea creases into the cushion that is your plush bottom lip. Bakugou finds himself staring there longer than he should and immediately tears his eyes away before he’s caught.

Your playful tone throws him off a beat later than he should��ve taken to reply. “Of course. I didn’t even want to be here to begin with,” he sneers with a brisk click of his tongue, crossing his arms. In a sense, he’s only telling half of the truth.

It’s true Bakugou did not desire to be here on his own accord. The squad dared to call him at the dead of midnight, when he was already tucked into bed by nine o’clock sharp and indulging in a needed rest, only to be ruefully awoken by his phone blaring across the expanse of his dorm room. The four should’ve suffered an earful from him as they tried to arrange a shopping trip of all things at that hour. However, his disinterest in the subject withered at the bait of your name casted into the conversation. Which to them was hook, line, and sinker. The cunning group of friends reeled him in at the idea that his crush would tag along. So, in the end, they got the rowdy blond to yield to the stupid shopping trip.

Though could it count as a shopping trip when four out of the six in their group were so transfixed by the weird vending machines in the place? The same four that organized said gathering to begin with? They’ve yet to cross into a single store here for crying out loud.

“If all you morons are gonna do is waste your damn money on these things, then this is a complete waste of time.” Bakugou doesn’t sugarcoat his irritation in the slightest. You still try to quell the bitterness in his tone with the saccharine that saturates your own.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, lighten up,” you tease playfully, pinching a small bit of the fabric on his arm to lightly urge him forward.

“You should at least try and join in on the fun with everyone—” At the turn of your head, your sentence cuts off, astonished to come across an empty space where your quartet of friends should be.

“And they’re already gone…” you say in disbelief. Your finger initially pointed in that direction falls limp. With their speedy curiosity plowing down the line of machines, the four have effectively ditched you two, leaving no trace of where they could’ve taken off for next.

The sigh from your lips lingers in amusement. “Well, guess it’s just you and me, Bakugou.”

When your eyes meet him again, you witness the scowl he glares at the abandoned space in front of the vending machine. The leer is menacing enough that if the contraption were an actual person, they might have rattled in fear, dropping down the snacks and drinks contained inside to sate his anger.

“Um, Bakugou?” you attempt to call out to him, but he’s too fixated by the peeved thoughts strewn in his head to hear you properly.

What the fuck are those dunces thinking? They planned this, didn’t they? God, I’m going to fucking kill them all! He babbles a seething torrent in his mind. Each one is more unrelenting and harsher than the last while a vein blisters prominently on his forehead.

What were the odds that going on a little shopping trip would end up with him left behind with his crush? Well, Bakugou thinks it’s absolutely none, and that this shit had to be preordained. If not, then it was just his bad fucking luck he supposes.

“—llo, earth to Bakugou Katsuki? Please send back a reply when you receive this message.”

At last, your voice surfaces, no longer drowned in Bakugou’s turbulent sea of thoughts as the hand you wave in front of him swims its way to his attention. “Huh?” He shakes his head twice to grip himself back to the matter at hand, observing in time the playful smile that curls mischievously on your lips.

“All back together I see. Good.” You start pulling on his arm and lead him in tandem with your steps. “Now let’s get going!”

Though he quirks up an eyebrow, Bakugou, weirdly enough, does not reject the way you drag him along without waiting for his response. In fact, with the other four gone, he finds it compelling that you’re taking the reins and asks mildly, “What? Are we gonna be doing some actual shopping now?”

His joke earns him your laughter resonating in melodic lilts to his ears before you leave his side to toss your empty bottle into the recycling bin. “Nope, we’re gonna be doing something even more fun, of course!” Then you resume dragging Bakugou down the walkways of the mall.

It’s not long until he questions the consecutive twists and turns he’s forced to take, having only been answered by your pursed grin multiple times.

“Hey, no more questions! Just trust me!” you quip at his refusal to be quiet and just obediently follow. The blonde can’t help it, of course, given the circumstances he’s wound himself in. Not many boys his age can control themselves if the person they like is pulling them along with as much enthusiasm as you are right now. But Bakugou is different from those other simpletons, crafting a mask to cover the elation hidden beneath with usual displeasure. Nothing but his uncharacteristic lack of annoyance and the ample glances in your direction could truly give himself away to his affections for you.

So with that, he places a generous amount of hope that you guide him somewhere more entertaining than that borefest he witnessed from the squad earlier.

But the moment you two reach your destination, he wonders if he may have accidentally misplaced that same hope down a rabbit hole instead.

“What the…” Bakugou’s words drift in the air at the quizzical sight before him. Mouth hanging open, he’s unable to conjure any sensible thoughts in time before you step in front of him.

“Tada! The Capsule Toy Gacha Room!” You spread your hands outward to present him an unhindered view of the room. It’s teeming with small capsule toy machines that line the walls, stacked on top of each other not to waste a single space inside. His red eyes squint at the assortment of bright colors painted on each machine that assaults his vision.

“Why the hell are there so many of these things?” Bakugou asks, jabbing a finger at the machines. You reply as you walk inside, “It’s the Gacha Room, Bakugou. Of course this place is gonna be filled with them.” You impart him an answer he is not at all satisfied with.

“I used to come here all the time when I was a kid! Glad it hasn’t really changed,” you say, noting the only real difference between then and now were the new toys and characters updated with the current trends. He begrudgingly trails behind you into the narrow corridors sandwiched with the machines on each side. The modest little tune you hum between your lips is a stark contrast to his disgruntled huffs accompanying his dragging feet.

Bakugou thinks being here is not any different from what the other four are frolicking about outside. This might be the worse alternative, considering you give money to a machine that grants you an item at complete random. You have no way of knowing what or who you’re going to get until the colorful sphere pops out at the bottom. And then, in an instance, your anticipation fades away when you open it and receive the character no one particularly cares about—the little charm inevitably gathering dust, forgotten in the drawers of your desk. Overall, these toy capsule machines were just gluttons devouring the money of parents whose kids always whine about never getting what they wanted.

Still, because it’s you, he stays and watches you indulge in your little nostalgia trip.

As your eyes glide down the row of toy dispensers, trying your best to decipher the items contained behind the blurry glass, you chime in, “Say, Bakugou, don’t you have any memories of gacha machines?”

Bakugou’s brows furrow in contemplation. He racks through the nooks and crannies between the crevices of his mind and recalls some standout memories. “I guess. Few of ’em were stuck in front of the arcade place near my neighborhood,” he answers, but those memories immediately begin to sour the more he looks into the details.

You don’t see how his face slowly contorts with annoyance while he plays back a scene in his head.

At the time, Bakugou had only sprouted to the young age of five years old. He’s huddled around his posse in front of the arcade he mentioned, slotting a coin inside the capsule machine that was stocked full of charms of Pro Heroes, which housed a very special limited edition prize of All Might to honor their collaboration with the famous Number One of Japan.

The boy was positively giddy at what was to come out, remaining hopeful thanks to the giant poster of All Might gazing down upon him with his triumphant grin. Yet even when his squeaky little voice hollered out a “Plus Ultra!” to reinforce his luck, he was given dirt in response.

But you know who did get that mystery All Might prize?

Deku. Fucking Deku.

Right after he had his spin of the machine, the green-haired boy stepped up, gave it a go, and got All Might on his first fucking try. To say five-year-old Bakugou was bitter would only be putting it mildly. The unbridled emotions bundled in his tiny body were just waiting to burst in an explosion.

But in the end, did he fight Midoriya for it? No, he did not. For if he did, his mother would have scolded the hell out of him, and his young self reflected in the moment that avoiding parental wrath outweighed the limited edition Mystery All Might figure charm, as sad as that sounded. So since then, he’s tried to repress that memory in the far corners of his mind.

But it seems God just desires to spite him.

“Hey, look!” You pull lightly on his shirt to capture his attention, eyes trained forward at whatever piqued your interest. Bakugou peeks over your head, and what he’s met with does not please him.

“They have a gacha machine featuring Pro Heroes here!” you shout cheerfully, walking toward it with the hem of Bakugou’s shirt in hand, who begrudgingly follows along despite a groan nearly leaving his mouth.

“Isn’t this cool?” you ask. You squat down to peer into the peculiar machine located at the very bottom of the stack. Bakugou clicks his tongue as part of his reply, hands buried in the pockets of his trousers.

“No.”

“Hey, one day they’ll be making toys and charms of you as well, Mister ‘I’m Gonna Be The Number One Hero,’” you say with a giggle, and your comment sparks a bit of pink to dust his cheeks while he looks down at you from his standing position.

He attempts to join you and your fixation on the Pro Hero capsule machine. However, when he starts bending his knees, he finds this to be a bit difficult. The more he squats down, the more Bakugou realizes they truly made this place for children and not bulky teenagers like him training in hero school. His knees and bottoms almost brush up against the plastic sheen of the machines on each opposing side.

Though he has to fidget into a particular position to get somewhat comfortable, he eventually gets there and kneels next to you.

“Why don’t we give a go at this thing?” you suggest, and he tilts his head, eyes narrowed.

“No way, these are a fucking waste of money,” he rejects.

“Hey it only costs two hundred yen!” you counter, “And plus, you might get a certain hero you want, like say... All Might?” You attempt to lure him in using his idol’s very name, but Bakugou doesn’t take the bait so easily and remains rigid in his stance.

Even if he did want to try for All Might, he’s sure his capsule is long gone by now anyway.

“Aw c’mon, Bakugou, pleaseee?” you draw out your pleas in a cute little tone that takes the blond by complete surprise. Unaware of how much power you have over him, the doe eyes and pout that paint your features make it difficult for him to maintain his hardened facade. Feeling his walls begin to melt away at the endearing sight, he ultimately grits his teeth, eyes shut as his hands rummage down into his pockets.

“Fine,” he mutters in defeat, and that smile appears on your lips once again as you lift your arms in triumph.

Pulling out two separate hundred yen coins, he promptly slides them both into the coin silt. When he hears them clank against the other change inside, he goes for the handle and gives it a quick turn. One of the capsule balls begins its journey down the machine and quickly arrives at the hatch that Bakugou lifts to retrieve his prize.

Snapping the capsule open, he’s met with Endeavor’s ugly mug, seeming even more unsightly from the low-quality production of the charm. The paint job is beyond sloppy, with the colors on the costume not depicted accurately and the figure’s pupils drawn to make him appear cross-eyed.

“Hm, you got the number one hero,” you tease, lightheartedly nudging your elbow at his sides because you know full well it isn’t the number one hero he wanted. Bakugou ignores your taunts and shoves the flame hero’s plastic face down the depths of his pockets, making sure to give it to Todoroki later just to annoy him.

“Yeah yeah, your turn, princess.” He scooches a bit to his right to let you have your go. You gladly follow, taking out the two hundred yen from your money pouch.

Bakugou remains disinterested throughout the entire process but is still attentive enough to observe how you hum those casual tunes of yours despite doing something so mundane. He also starts absorbing the cute shape of your nose and the outline of your lips from this angle. It isn’t long until he realizes how close you are in this position, to the point where he could practically smell your fragrant scent, and soon that pink hue diffuses on his face again.

Fuck, I need to stop that, he urges.

By the time he turns away, the capsule machine has begun its machinations once again.

The sizable sphere descending the hatch this time has striped patterns of red, yellow, and blue, colors that remind him all too much of a certain Pro Hero— Wait. What the fuck—

“This one looks a bit bigger than the others, don’t you think? Wonder what... Oh, hey, it’s All Might!” You go through the emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and then finally, glee.

Bakugou feels like he’s reliving those horrible memories once again as he beholds the shiny, miniature figure nestling in your palms before you lift it to grant a better view of its glory. It twists around from how you pinch it by the attached string while it’s hovering in the air. When the Pro Hero’s face turns in the blond’s direction, it’s like the inanimate object is somehow taunting him.

Compared to Endeavor’s shitty charm, All Might’s is a proper representation of who he is. The better quality plastic molded accurately into the man’s figure, the crevices between his muscles delved into displaying his well-defined physique. The colors on his costume are all correctly painted in his signature red, white, yellow, and blue. They even got the broad grin and shadowy features on his face to the tee.

Whichever company created this toy indeed did All Might justice because it looks exactly like the one Midoriya unsealed right in front of his envious five-year-old eyes.

Bakugou’s body shakes with suppressed anger. His hands clench and then unclench themselves while in conflict with his thoughts. Then, he suddenly moves toward you, darting for the charm that you narrowly pull out from his grapples in time.

“L-Lemme see!” he demands, shifting his hand around to grab hold of it for some reason. The act has you befuddled while you continue to move the toy away to evade capture.

“Huh? Why?”

“I need... to fucking make sure— OOF—”

His sputters are the last things that escape his lips before he staggers off balance due to all those hasty movements. It sends his body toppling over yours onto the floor, where your head would’ve thumped against the hard ground had the boy’s well-trained instincts not maneuvered a hand beneath it in time to cushion your fall.

Your descent to the floor is not at all graceful, wincing slightly at the impact. It’s when the pain ebbs away that you and Bakugou finally realize the very awkward position you’re suddenly both in.

Bakugou is hovering over you, body between your legs as one of his hands is cradling your head. The other is situated next to your face against the ground to keep himself upright, letting his eyes stare down at your stricken expression.

Unknowingly, you had settled your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder out of impulse during fall. The other one is still grasping the All Might figure, which is unharmed despite the abrupt movements.

Bakugou can feel your even breaths caress his lips from how close in proximity both of your faces are in this position. If any of you so much as move the wrong way, your lips would undoubtedly collide into each other. Though Bakugou doesn’t mind the notion, he isn’t going to instigate it if you aren’t willing. But the way your eyes line toward his lips, giving him a similar enamored look to the one he has right now, it seems both of you are on the same page.

Taking your mutual fixations as the sign to continue, Bakugou draws himself forward to close the distance while you rise to meet him in the middle.

And finally, he gets to kiss those lips of yours. The lips that adorn your cute face he always snuck glances at. The lips so unhinged in their playful teasing toward him. The lips he’s been so mesmerized and bewitched by throughout this chaotic excuse of a shopping trip.

And when they meet, they’re as full and soft as he imagined them to be, melding perfectly against his.

The hand he’s nestled under your head allows him to press you further into the liplock. You’re nearly enveloped in his wistful machinations, wanting to drown in the sea of his affections as your arms find their way around him.

You would’ve allowed yourself to do so, if not for the unfortunate security camera you catch in the corner of your eye from where you laid.

Your eyes widen, staggering out of their half-liddedness. You pat your hand in rapid succession against his shoulder, getting the blond to stir and separate from the kiss—an act he detests as he doesn’t want the embrace to end.

“What?” he gruffs. You point up at the ceiling, and he turns in that direction. When he detects the security camera about to automatically shift toward this particular side of the Capsule Toy Gacha Room, his face grows full of panic. He lifts himself off your body immediately.

With the two of you remembering where you are, you rose from the ground and cleaned yourselves up. You try to appear pristine as possible, without letting any suspicion about what has happened get tossed in your direction. Still, the red faces plastering both of your features are already a dead giveaway.

“I… Uh…” Bakugou’s still lost in the haze of the heated moment, unsure of what words he should utter. Much to his relief, his burden lifts when two notifications from your phones ring in sync together, diverting your attention.

When you open your phone and slide across the notice, a text message from the Bakusquad ascends onto the screen.

Mina: heyyyy just finished going through all these vending machines! you wont believe how much money we spent!!

The message follows a selfie of the four holding a myriad of drinks and snacks together in the picture. You can’t suppress your giggle at the endearing sight. Another chime sounds when a new text pops up at the bottom.

Eijirou: let’s all meet up again at that blue mystery vending machine!

“Well, you heard them,” you say while clicking off your phone, “we better get a move on.”

Bakugou relays your words back in a slow nod, following through with a rough “yeah” that cleaves his throat. The two of you walk alongside each other once again while you leave the Capsule Toy Gacha Room. Only your steps padding against the mall’s confounds accompany the quiet atmosphere established between you two—awkward and a bit unnerving.

It’s when you’ve both made it to the meet-up spot in front of the blue vending machine that you alleviate yourselves of the strained tension.

“Soooo… was there any reason you wanted to get your hand on this thing so badly?” you question, drawing out the All Might charm that led those heated events to transpire. It dangles between your fingertips and glances at Bakugou along every rotation. The blonde bounces his eyes between you, All Might, and the ground, unsure if he should admit that he was acting out of childish jealousy and bitterness.

“I… Urgh… Fuck…”

You raise an eyebrow when he fumbles with his words. He mutters blatant obscenities between every possible resolve that crosses his mind.

“Look, forget it. It’s not important,” Bakugou concludes, but you think differently, not satisfied with his answer.

“No. Tell me.”

With that weight in your tone, Bakugou realizes he can’t avoid the subject any longer. He releases a long sigh as he leads you through the infamous tale, observing how your expression grows from concerned to downright amused.

“Really? You’ve held a grudge for that long?” The laughter you initially attempt to suppress ends up bubbling from your throat. Hearing it spurs Bakugou to clutch his hands together into shaky fists.

“Look. If you know me, then you should remember I never want to lose to fucking Deku. The fact he got the All Might charm right after I got garbage fucking pissed me off!” he exclaims loud enough for his harsh words to reach a couple walking by. They spare worried glances at the blonde when they stroll past him.

“Hmm…” you muse in thought. Bakugou can tell by the glint rising in your eyes and your tone that you’re up to something again. “I can give you mine if you want. But only for a very small price.”

He quirks an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. “And what would that fucking price be?”

The smirk prominent on your pretty lips widens while you teeter your weight to your tippy-toes in front of him.

“A date. Just a single date will suffice,” you tell him, and Bakugou’s caught off guard by how simple the offer is. His delayed response has you leaning forward, appraising him for an answer.

“Well..?” You wave the charm before his eyes by the thin string as if to hypnotize him. But in all honesty, Bakugou knows that sweet smile of yours and luster in your eyes is all you need to have him wrapped around your finger.

His playful smirk surfaces his lips. He provides his answer by snatching the figure right from your dainty fingertips.

“You got yourself a deal, princess.”

You happily clap your hands together. “It’s settled then! We’ll have a date here at the mall next week!”

“Hah?! Why the fucking mall again?!”

“Because we didn’t do much here anyway, so I say we should give it another shot together next week!”

“What? And go shopping? I don’t wanna be your bellboy the entire time—”

“Mom! Mom! Look at that boy’s All Might toy!”

You and Bakugou are both surprised by the new, high-pitched voice that enters in the middle of your riffraff. Your eyes trail along to sound and come face-to-face with a young boy staring at the toy in Bakugou’s hand.

“I want one too!”

Unable to control his gloating, Bakugou dangles the charm next to his face.

“Yeah well, too bad, kid. It’s mine so f—”

“Bakugou,” you warn. You halt the obscene words from entering the boy’s ears and avoid giving his mom a hard time.

“Argh… I mean... scram!”

You almost smack yourself. You can’t believe Bakugou has the guile to argue with a child at this age.

Though he forgoes the curses, that doesn’t make Bakugou’s words sound any less harsh. As a result, the kid pouts. He pouts hard. His eyes start to become glassy, lining the edge of his lashes with droplets. Recognizing her child on the verge of breaking out into tears, the mom acts quickly. She’s by his side, patting his back.

“Sweetie, why don’t you go to that blue vending machine over there and see if you can get a toy too,” she cheers him up instantly, dropping a hundred yen coin down her son’s small palm.

“Okay, mom!” he responds, gleeful again.

He dawdles over to the machine with purpose in his steps, inserting the coin, and pressing the lone button on the mystery vending machine.

You and Bakugou don’t perceive any noise emitting from the machine, and yet the little boy is putting his hands into the slot to pull something out.

“Mom, why did the machine give me a paper that says PS5?”

Both of you go rigid. Kaminari is not going to be happy hearing about this.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

BABE. WHAT IF GERALT DRINKS A LOVE POTION!?! WHAT IF HE?? CoNfEsSeS!?!?

This is why I come crawling into your messages begging for prompts. You get me, boo. 

tw: love potion, Yen interfering but in a nice way

---

Yennefer had grown bored of watching the bard and Witcher dance around each other like courting swans. It had been years and they still hadn’t figured things out between them. It had probably been more than years; more like decades. The bard, something not-quite-human but not inhuman enough to be suspicious or a problem, was too frightened of losing Geralt a second time to say anything to him about his clear and obvious feelings. 

The Witcher, too self-loathing and repressed to express anything other than frustration or exhaustion, didn’t know how to say anything for fear of driving his only friend away for good. She’d been watching the two idiots circle each other in an endless loop of yearning for far too long and the sorceress was finally ready to give them a little push in the right direction. 

“Jaskier,” she drawled, approaching the bard after he’d concluded a public performance. “It’s been awhile since we’ve traded blows. How are you and that Witcher doing?”

“I am still the finest voice on the Continent and Geralt is the grumpiest Wolf Witcher to ever grace the halls of Kaer Morhen,” he winked. “How have you been, dear?”

“I remain the most ravishing woman alive, fortunately.”

“Of course,” he bowed in mock politeness. Their banter had gotten less fiery and more friendly after she and Geralt had come to their understanding about Ciri’s education. Split custody of an affectionate, exuberant magical child worked wonders for strained relationships, apparently. “What can I do for you on this fine occasion, Lady Yen?”

“Oh hush,” she came alongside him and elbowed him lightly in the ribs. He bumped his shoulder back against hers, falling into camaraderie as if they’d never parted. “I actually have something for Geralt this time, but figured you’d be easier to get a hold of. I was correct in that assumption, as per usual. I thought he might be missing his White Gull while out on the Path and I know how he stresses himself nearly to death, so I brewed up something fun for him to try.”

“He’ll be overjoyed to have an equal substitute to his Witcher liquor.”

She pressed a small vial of swirling gold liquid into Jaskier’s palm. There was a label hanging from the tag containing a blocky #9. The sorceress smiled warmly and shook out her heavy skirts, adjusting them to her liking before opening a swirling purple portal. “I have some things to take care of in the next county over, so goodbye for now, darling.”

“Good day, gorgeous.”

And just as soon as she’d appeared, Yennefer was gone.

---

“Geralt! Here, I’d nearly forgotten. Yennefer said this would work like White Gull next time you want to get pissed after a job,” the bard said, passing along the little golden vial. The Witcher pulled the cork, sniffed at it, shrugged, and put it away in his pack. 

“Remind me to thank her next time we cross paths.”

“Already thanked her for you,” Jaskier winked. “No worries.”

“You terrify me, bard.”

“You love me, Witcher.”

“Hmm.”

---

“Geralt, what’s wrong?”

“That wasn’t… that wasn’t White Gull at all, Jaskier.”

“What was it, then!? Are you going to be okay!?”

“It wasn’t poison. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay, so what was it, exactly?”

“It was a-” Geralt clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head furiously. He took a few deep breaths before releasing a muffled, “I can’t talk.”

“What do you mean you can’t talk? You barely talk as it is! Do I need to worry about you or not? Should I send for a healer or no? Was I duped by a very clever, portal-making doppler or was that really Yennefer?”

Geralt glared but kept his hands over his mouth. Jaskier could see from his seat beside the Witcher that he was trembling in place. His shoulders were set in a tight line and his legs were bouncing in place. He was putting a great amount of effort into staying as still as possible and even with his great Witcher willpower was failing him. Slowly, carefully, Jaskier reached out one of his hands but Geralt shook his head and pulled himself further away. 

“Geralt please tell me what’s wrong! I’m scared!” Tears started to well up in his eyes and his hands fluttered uselessly, desperate to touch but banned from doing so. Geralt hated seeing the fear mounting in Jaskier’s eyes, turning down the corners of his gorgeous mouth. “Geralt, tell me something! Anything, please.”

“Love potion,” the Witcher finally managed to grind out. 

“Oh. Do you need me to leave so you can, you know, deal with it?”

Geralt growled and turned away, hands moving from his mouth to grip at the tops of his knees. His fingers dug into the material of his leather trousers and he grit his teeth. “No. Not that kind.”

Jaskier stood anyway, legs wobbling, and took a slow step back. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, she said-”

“She knew what she was doing,” Geralt snarled, standing also. He took a measured step in the bard’s direction and Jaskier’s hands rose again; he wasn’t sure if it was an attempt to ward Geralt off or to welcome him closer. “She knew she was meddling.”

“Meddling!? Geralt wha- what’s going on?”

The Witcher picked his way easily over the forest floor, closing the minimal distance between them. One of his hands reached to grip at Jaskier’s waist and the other cupped the bard’s jaw, holding him still and tilting his head back so they were making firm eye contact. “She’s tired of watching us stay quiet, Jaskier.”

Jaskier, for his part, was trying desperately to summon words enough to answer, but Geralt’s calloused thumb was brushing back and forth against the skin of his cheek and it was incredibly distracting. “I- uh, I don’t know wha-”

The Witcher pulled him closer. There was no pressure, no point of contact that Jaskier couldn’t escape if he wanted to; he just really didn’t want to move. This gorgeous dream was too good to be true, but he was very much enjoying it. 

“Bard,” that low, hungry growl made Jaskier weak in the knees. “Do you love me, too, or do your racing heart and fluttering eyelashes deceive me?” 

“I do,” Jaskier breathed, finally relaxing into his darling Geralt’s comforting embrace. “I love you so incredibly much. With every fiber of my being.”

“May I kiss you?”

“Yes. Gods, yes.”

The thumb on his cheek never stopped moving. That soft caress was the only thing holding Jaskier to the surface of the earth, it felt like. If Geralt let go of him then he would certainly float away into space and never return. The Witcher’s lips, chapped and warm and slightly parted, lit against his as lightly as any feather falling upon the surface of a calm lake. It was a chaste, anxious brush of skin-against-skin and Jaskier whined when Geralt pulled away too quickly for his liking. 

The sharp, sudden sound broke something in Geralt’s resolve. His lips crashed down again and his hands tightened their hold on the bard, keeping him pinned in place for Geralt’s hands and mouth to eagerly explore. “Yes, Geralt, fucking finally.”

“I love you,” the Witcher murmured into his skin. He kissed his way along one pale collarbone and then the other, praying his love into every damp press of his lips. “I love you, Jaskier.”

“I’m writing Yennefer a thank you letter.”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” Geralt growled, the hand cupping Jaskier’s jaw moving down to encircle his waist. Better than I’d ever imagined, the bard thought, one leg lifting unconsciously up from the ground. Oh, my love, at last! 

[aobajohxsai]

(Fem!Reader HC) May I request for Oikawa, Iwa, Daichi, Tsukki and Yams's girlfriends feeling insecure because the boys are surrounded by taller and slimmer (she's short and chubby) girls so she grows distant with them and starts to avoid them like the plague. How they find out, approach and reassure/comfort the girl will be up to you~ 💖 I understand if you dw to write this. ^-^ It's just, I've struggled with my looks for years and it's just ☹☹☹ Sending love and hugs 🥰 - 🍡 anon

has it been six months since i last posted sth here

yes.

Love, I’m so sorry everything took so long!! Your wonderful messages never failed to brighten up my day and I just think you’re the loveliest person I’ve ever met! I may not show it, via my blatant avoidance of this blog, but you’re amazing and I appreciate every message, thank you!!

Without further ado, I hope this was worth the wait (probably not, I haven’t written in half a year, but I tried my best) <3

Also, I didn’t do Daichi, Tsukki and Yams, as I went wayyy overboard with the headcanons (it’s 600+words each), but feel free to request them again in a separate ask, love :)

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

Oikawa and Iwaizumi comforting their insecure girlfriend (Plus-sized!Reader)

Warnings: Some self-loathing, but it turns fluffy afterwards

You tried to even your breathing, (e/c) eyes glued to the horde of fangirls almost jumping on your boyfriend. Your hot, talented, brilliant, athletic boyfriend - Who, to your dismay, seemed adamant to keep flirting back.

Normally, you weren’t a jealous person - It’s a given when it comes to dating someone such as “The Great King”. That day, however, the green monster seemed to be rearing its ugly head, pushed upwards by all your deep-rooted insecurities. The girls he was surrounded with were stunning - Long, slim legs, the oversized sweater of the Seijoh uniform actually being oversized on them, the way they seemed to look so much better by your lovely boyfriend’s side than you.

“Y’know he’s only doing that to ensure Seijoh’s popularity or whatever bullshit he keeps spewing about it, right?”, a deep voice spoke from behind you, effectively startling you. How Iwaizumi could read you so well, that would always surprise you, but you supposed it came with years upon years of having to read his seemingly unreadable best friend. You tried to will away the tears that had formed in your eyes, letting out a small giggle at Hajime’s characteristic profanity.

“Oi, Shittykawa! Get your ass over here and greet your girlfriend!”, he yelled, effectively grabbing the attention of the entire fan-club and the man to whom it was dedicated. You felt a deep flush rising on your cheeks at the attention, prepared to listen to a quick dismissal from your boyfriend, but were instead met with a surprisingly feminine squeal.

Oikawa seemed to all but pounce on you, taking you into a tight hug and spinning you around a little. Placing you back down, his whiskey eyes seemed to have a gleam to them, effectively having lit up the second he’d seen you.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, before pouting exaggeratedly.

“Why didn’t you say anything, love? I kept waiting and waiting and my beautiful girlfriend just wouldn’t show up!”

That’s when the previously-forgotten dread made its appearance again. He hadn’t even noticed you in the sea of pretty girls. But that’s alright - You should have seen it coming, ever since you started dating the most popular guy in your high-school. Just fake it ‘til you make it, c’mon, he made a joke, laugh, Y/N, dammit-

A bitter laugh left your lips, so aggressive it even startled Oikawa. 

“It’s quite alright, wouldn’t have expected you to, surrounded by all these pretty girls and all.” Another aggravated laugh left your lips, as you tried to sell it as a good-natured joke, but it was obvious that your boyfriend had definitely read through it. His expression seemed to darken, brows furrowing, before he quickly fell back into his well-rehearsed role, letting out an exaggerated gasp. 

“Oh, but you’re the prettiest one out of all of them! I’d never miss your gorgeous face!” He smirked, before squishing your cheeks lightly, eyes widening in a playful expression. “Actually”, he motioned towards the girls still watching you guys oh God- before promptly placing a hand around your shoulders, pulling you into his side protectively.

“Hey, everyone, look at my beautiful, lovely, gorgeous, girlfriend! Isn’t she the prettiest?”

The girls seemed to be whispering amongst themselves, confused expressions adorning their faces, before nodding shyly. You couldn’t have cared less, though - In the arms of the boy you loved, you were sure you’d never feel insecure ever again.

Having your boyfriend be the ace of a popular volleyball team was proving to be an incredible experience, as you had the opportunity to witness not only the developing friendships on the team, but also the colossal amount of hard work that went into the winning streak they had been on for the past few matches.

You couldn’t be more proud - wearing Iwaizumi’s jersey in the stands, your voice louder than anyone else’s - Everything was going well, except for one little, tiny thing.

For once, along with the relentless Oikawa Tooru fanclub, a small group of girls had seemed to form around Iwaizumi, the only thing you could overhear being something about his “hands that were totally made for choking”. 

The bigger issue? They were all perfect. In their tiny, stupid skirts and their cute shirts and their sharp jawlines and sculpted faces and - Well, you had curves where others didn’t and you weren’t particularly proud of your body. Your thighs seemed larger than usual and you almost gasped at the sudden wave of despair washing over you. Why would he date you when he could easily have them?

You weren’t a masochist in any sense - However, you found yourself unable to turn off your eavesdropping, only hearing more and more things that would make you spiral into self-loathing. You felt overwhelmed, so you quickly grabbed your bag and hurried out of the room, finding a bench to sit on and simply breathe.

Not long afterwards, however, you heard lots of squeals - presumably from Iwa and Oikawa’s fanclub - and prepared yourself for what you’d have to witness.

To your surprise, however, as soon as the doors of the court opened, you could only see a tuft of black hair aggressively elbowing everyone in the crowd, dropping a nonchalant “sorry” here and there, before finally running straight into your arms.

He breathed in your perfume, still hugging you tightly, before letting go and grinning widely towards you.

Before he could speak, however, he found himself being interrupted by some loud squeals. Looking at you, he rolled his eyes playfully before shouting:

“Trashikawa, grab your stupid fanclub and get out of here, I can’t talk to (Y/N) properly!”

To your surprise, the setter’s face twisted into that annoying, cocky smirk of his, before he coyly replied: 

“Iwa-chan, maybe you should grab a hold of your fanclub! We’re well-behaved here, aren’t we?”, he smiled dazzlingly towards the nearest girl and you swore you saw her faint.

Upon glancing at your boyfriend, however, you quickly noticed his agape mouth, the surprised look quickly being overtaken by a frown, a hand grazing the back of his neck.

“Uh, thank you, ladies, I appreciate it, but I really wanted to talk to my girlfriend, so would you mind leaving us alone?”

He was being so genuine, you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest - It’s alright, he’s just happy to be supported, you had to remind yourself.

The ace had noticed your sour look, however, quickly turning back to you, mouth turned down into a scowl.

“Why the fuck can’t they stick to Shittykawa?”

You smiled giddily, before tangling a hand in his spiky locks. “Well that’s because you’re sweet, kind, genuine - muscular - and, uh”, you looked down embarrassedly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, “fuck, you should be with one of them, I don’t deserve you.”

Now, you’d seen an annoyed Iwa plenty of times, but this couldn’t be matched - His brows seemed to furrow until they almost disappeared, his mouth pressed into a tight scowl as he looked your face up and down, checking whether or not you were being serious. Upon noticing that indeed, that was the case, he pulled you into him a tad too aggressively, pushing your chin up lightly to gaze into your eyes. 

His glare seemed to soften, before he started peppering your face with kisses. 

“You”, kiss, “are”, kiss, “the best goddamn thing”, kiss, “that’s ever happened to me.”

Finishing with his assault of kisses, Iwaizumi gave you a soft smile, before glaring playfully. “If you ever think that any of those girls would interest me half as much as you do, you’re really just as much of an idiot as Trashikawa, you know.”

Finally, he looked around before promptly squeezing your thigh, his large hand almost engulfing it. A small smirk played on his lips as he rose his gaze back to yours.

“I promise I’ll show you how gorgeous you are when we get home.”