#once we move idk how close we are going to be anymore

[komitomi]

Hihii!!

Idk if your reqs are open but could you plsplspls make a part 2 of "just ask" with childe, thoma and scara?Thank uuu :3 If they're closed just ignore :)

Oh my god yes! I absolutely thought of doing childe and scara in the first part but I wasn't able to cause of the images limit, I wanted my blog to look pretty HELP, BUT HERE IT IS ALONG WITH THOMA <3

“Just ask.” — childe, thoma, scara (separate) x afab!f!reader

;; if you feel yourself wanting to community label this, please kindly just block me instead, it's fucking stupid how people ignore the warnings.

NSFW WARNING, MDNI: afab!f!reader, p in v sex, clit stimulation (childe, scara), orgasm denial (childe, scara), teasing (thoma), cock riding (childe), scara is extremely mean, tiddy succin (thoma), dacryphilia(?)(scara), cumming inside (childe, thoma), p*rn without much plot, sexual tension, missionary (thoma), squirting (scara), reader is too shy to ask, I'm not sure if this counts as dubcon because the reader isn't vocal at first but only consents through her actions but be warned. + not proofread cause we die like men. // part one.

By clicking read more you are consenting to view this explicit content, you are responsible for your own experience.

CHILDE is always gone from home most of the time due to his work with the fatui harbingers, so when he's back you only ever spend time doing normal things like going out on picnics, dates etc, well that left both him and you sexually frustrated yet you can't admit it cause you felt too shy.

You don't know how long it has been since you both had sex, but it was probably too long since each of his small innocent touches is enough to set you alight, the way he lays his head on your lap had you wishing you can't sit over his face.

He noticed, the way you would squirm, gasp at little touches, so what did he decide to do when he noticed? tease you even more, those seemingly innocent touches turned more inappropriate as time passed by, his arm 'accidentally' rubbing against your nipple, the way his hands trail up your skirt from time to time, when you sit on his lap and feel his member rubbing against your ass, but he never acts on it unless you ask.

“C-childe.” you let out a breathy gasp when you feel his fingers rubbing small circles on your inner thigh, so close to your core but so far away, “What's wrong?” he says in a teasing tone, no fucking way he's choosing to be ignorant in this situation.

“I- childe please.” you turn your head to the side to look at him behind you, but he simply rests his head in the crook of your neck and kisses you “please what? what do you want?” his kisses trail down to your shoulder, you shudder when you feel his hand brush against your clothed cunt.

“P-please stop teasing— I can't take it anymore.” you whimper when you feel his hand pushing your panties aside and drags his finger over the length of your core, “what do you want me to do?” he says lowly, in your ear, trying to contain himself when he feels how wet you are, fighting the urge to just turn you around having your legs wrap around him and bury himself in your cunt.

You let out an airy moan when you felt his fingers pressing on your clit, slowly rubbing circles, “I- I want you– inside me.” you manage to say in between gasps, you feel his fingers speed up, rubbing even faster, you felt your stomach tighten, but before it could snap childe quickly retreats his fingers making you whine, he quickly changes your position, having you face him as he unbuttons his pants before giving his hardened cock a few pumps and lining it up against your entrance.

He guides you down it by your hips and you hold on to his shoulders panting, as you seat yourself on his cock, slowly you start to move up and down, bouncing on his cock, his hands remain on your hips as he thrusts upwards into your cunt, trying to set a rhythm. You feel your stomach tighten once again as the tip of his cock hits a certain spot inside you.

One of his hands travels up your body to grope your tits, twirling and flicking your nipple causing you to whimper at the sensation, “Haa— fuck I've waited so long for this.” childe says in between thrusts, you felt yourself near your edge causing you to grab his shoulders for support and set your own rhythm, making his dick hit the sensitive spot inside you.

“F-fuck baby— you gonna cum?” he asks and you nod, “Y-yeah fuck!” you shakily say, “Cum for me, cum all over my cock.” as soon as those words leave his mouth that coil that has been winding tighter and tighter finally snaps causing you to moan out loud.

Childe thrusts into you a few more times before he comes undone inside you, painting your walls white with his cum, he groans as he rides his orgasm out watching you scrunch your nose due to overtimulation.

“Speak up next time okay?”

THOMA is just as flustered as you are, he knows what you want but he's shy to speak up as well, he wants to bury his cock deep inside your cunt but he can't do that, not until you ask him to, not until you tell him that you want it.

And just like childe he decides to feign innocence, yet his way is different, he kept those accidental touches fairly innocent, and it made you more frustrated because you couldn't understand whether he wants to touch you, maybe you were the only one feeling horny from them? it made things worse, you now felt even more embarrassed.

And he caught on, so he decided to become a little bit more bold, his hands lingered a little bit long on you, whenever he would wrap his arm around your shoulder his hand grazed your breast, or when you would hug him he would have you tightly pressed against him, feeling your breasts against his chest, you felt his hard cock rub against you whenever he held you that tightly, so now you knew.

And you started to become impatient.

When was he going to touch you properly? bring you relief from all this pent up sexual frustration, you knew you just had to ask but you were too shy for your own good, and it wasn't until one of the nights, when you finally decided to ask.

“Thoma, I've had enough.” you said, which made him stop his current actions, which were literally just him rubbing himself up against you, he paused his movements, and slight panic began to settle in, were you breaking up with him?

Before it could get worse, you turned to face him, grabbing him by his cheeks, before kissing him passionately, he realises what you had meant and reciprocates your actions by wrapping his hands around you waist, pulling you close.

You pull away panting, “P-please just take me already.” you say, breathing deeply, “Take you where?” thoma teases which makes you groan, “You know what I mean.” you look at him and he shakes his head, “I have no idea.” he continues to tease you, wanting to hear exactly what you wanted.

“Archons— for fucks sake thoma, fuck me.” you say frustrated, and that's all it took for thoma to finally snap, he quickly picked you up and carried you to your bedroom, throwing you on the bed as he undid his pants. You did the same, you removed your clothes, trying to get them off as quickly as possible.

Thoma grabs you by your ankle and pulls you towards the edge of the bed, where he stands, he lines himself against your slit, rubbing his cock against your clit, “Fuck— I wanted this so so much.” he gasps when he pushes his cock inside you.

You moan in pleasure, your cunt was already wet, he didn't even need to prepare you. All that pent up sexual frustration for weeks had driven you insane.

Thoma slowly picks up the pace, parting your legs wider, his thrusts were desperate, needy, and fast, he had been wanting this too, how long had he had to control himself? He groans when you clench around him. He could die like this and he'd be happy.

The bed shakes as he thrusts into you, your breasts bouncing up and down, he grabs one in his hand before leaning down to take it in his mouth, suckling on the skin and biting it as he ruts into you, you grip his hair when his tip hits a rough part inside of you.

“F-fuck! Yes there— oh archons!” you moan as his tip continuously hits the spot, making you arch your back and rut your hips against him as well, all while he's focused on your tits, “I'm cumming! T-thoma I'm cumming!” you inform him, feeling the band in your core tighten and snap, causing your cunt to flutter around his cock which makes him moan with your nipple in his mouth.

That made him come undone as well, shooting ropes of his cum right inside you, he didn't have the time to pull out, but you didn't mind, he pulled back immediately, pulling his cock out from your cunt and watching his cum drip down, mixed with your juices as your cunt fluttered.

“Fuck, I wanted this so badly.” he whimpers.

“Then why didn't you ask?” you say.

“I wanted you to ask first.”

SCARA is fucking mean, he's so mean towards you, he knows immediately what you want but won't give you it, not until he's satisfied, he knows how shy it makes you, how embarrassed you get, how your expression changes, yet he revels in it.

He will touch you, making you think he won't make you ask because he's aware, oh he doesn't want to make you ask actually, he wants to make you beg for it, everytime he fingers you, eats you out, he stops right when you were about to come undone, earning a frustrating grunt from you.

You thought it would pass and he would eventually make you cum, but he doesn't, he never lets you finish, constantly denying you of your orgasms until you ask, no, beg him to fuck you and make you cum.

“Sc-scara please—!” you yelp, gripping his hair and shoving his face back into your cunt, he stopped his ministrations when you were about to cum, which lead to this moment now, he shut his lips tightly refusing to do anything else, his gripped your hand, which was gripping his hair, tightly, causing you to loosen the hold as he pulled your hand away and crawling on top of you.

He tuts mockingly, “You know darling, this could be easily over if you just asked.” he says and you swallow thickly, “But you won't, will you? You are so stubborn.” he places a sharp kiss against your neck, causing you whimper.

“P-please.” you cry out, “Please what hm?” he pulls away, looking at your face and your expression, the way you bite your lips in preparation, the way your eyebrows furrow as you feel your face heat up at the thought.

He sighs, and tries to get off of you but you grab him and he's taken aback by surprise, and you look him straight in the eyes before you swallow, and push away all the shyness that you felt creeping up your body. “Fuck me.” you whisper.

“Sorry, what did you say? Couldn't hear you.” he says feigning, 'fucking son of a bitch.' you curse inwardly, before once again asking him, “Just fuck me.” you say loudly this time, which causes him to smirk.

“You want me to fuck you?” he asks and you nod, frantically shaking your head up and down, “You want me to make you feel good? Bury my cock deep inside of you?” he asks and you nod, “Very well, beg.”

what?

He wants you to beg, and you look at him, his annoying smirk never once having left his face, oh how you wanted to slap it off his face, he lined his cock against your entrance before shoving it in roughly, causing you to groan at the burning intrusion.

You thought maybe he changed his mind, but a moment passes and your cunt adjusts to his cock, but he doesn't move, in fact, he looks at you, waiting for you. You swallow thickly, “P-please fuck me.” you say with your eyes closed.

“No no, look at me, look at me when you beg, tell me how you want me to make you feel good.” he cooes and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, before his slowly pulls his cock out of your cunt and thrusts it into you once again.

“F-fuck- please, please— please make me feel good, want you to make me cum around your cock.” you beg, fighting the urge to close your eyes, tears welling up in your eyes as you cry from embarrassment, he smiles.

“There we go.” he says triumphant, before he thrusts into you roughly, setting a pace at such a brutal speed, your face contorting as he shoves his cock inside and out roughly, he finds joy in your discomfort, trying to adjust to the rhythm.

He pushes your knees to your chest, spreading your legs wider and making him go deeper, he thrusts continue to be violent and rough, it took you few moments to adjust to the rhythm, but when you did, you found pleasure coursing through your veins.

His hand came to stimulate your clit, scooping the slick that leaked from your hole upwards and coat it with it before he rubbed harsh and fast circles.

He moaned when he felt you clench around him, making him go feral and even more faster than he already was, he rubbed fast short circles unto your clit while his cock found your gspot and continued to hit it roughly, the double stimulation drove you crazy.

You felt a coil in your stomach starting to form, you moaned and whimpered below him, before you can process what was happening you came undone, a painful pleasure ripped through you and you felt something wet drip down to the sheets, scara groaned at the sight before he finished with a loud moan as well.

“Fucked you so good that it had you squirting.” he said with a mean chuckle and you felt shy, you just squirted. Of course you did, how could you not? All the pent up orgasms he denied you of was too frustrating.

He propped down next to you on bed and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, gestures like this always confuse you, he's so mean vocally and when he fucks you, but gentle and soft sometimes. You get a mix of everything. But hey you aren't complaining.

“I liked seeing you beg.” he says cheekily, and you look up at him with a playful annoyed face.

“I want you to beg often.”

[chiscaralight]

gamer!perv!mean!neighbor!scara x fem reader nsfw. table sex(woah), thigh riding, unprotected sex,more story building tbh idk i just like writing for this, part 3 soon?🫣 this wasn’t proofread we die like tingyun

part 1 here!

after that night, you literally couldn’t face scaramouche anymore. it was so weird! you found yourself staying in your own home more, barely responding to his texts or calls now. even locking your door when you knew his was home so he wouldn’t come waltzing in like he always does.

but being away from him after you’d gotten so used to his presence was eating away at you from the inside. which is why you’re contemplating wether to knock on his door or just go in like you usually do. it’s been a very distressful five minutes like this, and another noise of distress leaves your mouth. then your face flushes. he definitely would have liked to hear that.

when you finally open the door, the living room is empty. so is the kitchen. but his bedroom door is wide open and he’s facing his setup, headphones on as he’s saying something harsh to whoever he’s in the voice chat with. his victory is easy, accompanied by a few more insults and a sultry laugh. once you’re sure he’s not actively playing, you call out his name,

he turns you you, expression blank. then turns right back to his screen to cue up for the next game. what the hell? you’re stomping over to him like a child and tell him not to ignore you.

“but haven’t you been ignoring me all this time?”

your mouth presses into a thin line. you look like a puppy that’s just been kicked across the street. so you apologize. its quiet, but he definitely heard it. and you’re not hard to read at all. he knows you didn’t do it to spite him in any way, so he waves it off and pulls his chair back. you slide your way into his lap and his free hand finds your waist.

you’re about to speak but the match is about to start. as much as you like being here, you’re trying to get his attention back on you, not watch him yell at other grown men. but you’ll be the first to admit the way he plays is mesmerizing. his fingers clicking at the keys with ease. your can feel your mouth start to water, the memory of-

“stop staring, whore.”

he doesn’t actually care if you stare. he’s stares at you all the time. he’s even staring at you right now, barely concentrating on the game he’s playing as you squirm in his lap. you’re moving way too much for either of your comfort and he tells you to stop squirming around. the bulge under you says otherwise. you’re biting back the gasp you can feel in your throat as you push down harder on him.

it's so wrong, moving around on him like this when he’s talking to other people. but it feels so good when he grinds up into you in response. he pushes you to the side so both legs are around one of his. bounces his thigh once and you wince at the pressure. it's starting to bother you a little more than it should. you're getting frustrated, and he's paying no mind to you and your problem.

in all reality, it's bothering him just as much. he might seem focused on his game, but he's trying to shift his attention from the strain in his pants! because of how you're sitting, you can't feel how hard he is. it's starting to get worse now bc those little noises of yours are getting louder, and he swears he can feel your slick seeping onto the leg of his pants.

now, scaramouche isn't one to throw a game for any reason. but with the way you're whining out his name like that, he's mumbling a sultry fuck me before just closing the game as a whole. he's sliding the keyboard away and throwing his headphones off in the blink of an eye. before you can even tell him to calm down, he's standing up and pressing you down onto the now-empty space of his desk.

"so needy. couldn't even wait a couple of minutes for me to finish my game. you want my attention that bad?"

you purse your lips. why did you want his attention like that? you've never felt like this before. not to mention doing anything like this before. humping his leg like that, whining his name like that. he didn't make you do any of it. that was all you. but before you can think about it anymore, he's pushing himself against the swell of your ass. he's hissing at the contact. he can feel how soaked you are through the thin fabric of your shorts. he's rolling his hips into you now, nails digging into the soft skin of your waist.

"miss me this much, hm?"

he cant see your face, but the red creeping up the back of your neck tells him exactly what he needs to know. you whine as he moves away but the cool air that hits your behind shuts you right back up. you can hear him moving around behind you, and it’s not long before you can feel him pressing his tip against your entrance. he taps your hip, and you nod, letting him know that he can go on.

when he finally pushed into you fully, your head drops right down to the table. you missed this so much, why were you hiding away from him again? he’s bunching up your hair in a fist to draw your head back before he starts moving.

he’ll never explain to you that he actually did miss your presence. his apartment was so quiet without you and it started to irk him. which is why he’d rather show you with how he fucks you. he’s hitting you so deep and hard, you can barely keep up! you can feel your knees buckling under your weight, so he releases your hair to hold your hips up. he doesn’t need to tell you to look at him this time, because once you manage to push yourself up, you’re already craning your head towards him. his smile is wicked, and he’s purring out an atta girl because you’re doing such a good job like the doll you are. your hand is reaching back to grip his forearm to tell him you can feel your orgasm coming. so he stops, but it’s not for the reason you think of.

in any other situation, he would’ve just held out on your orgasm for as long as he wanted. it was your fault after all, but with how long it’s been (it was an excruciatingly painful couple of days), he just tells you to face him.

he’s guiding you to half sit on the table. raising your legs up, he slides right back in with no warning. the moan you let out is so broken, so full of pleasure that he’s speeding up in you. one of your hands grips his shoulder for support so the other can find his hair and drag his head towards yours. the kiss is sloppy, your whimpers trickling into his mouth as he groans into yours. one specific thrust has you almost crying into his mouth as you come around him. he doesn’t stop pounding into you until he reaches his own climax, body stilling against yours.

part 3 here!

[erwinsvow]

hiii idk if you've done this before but can u do rafe throat training shy!reader with his fingers??

such a fun prompt !! shes down bad in this.

you don't know how you'd ended up like this—curled up on rafe's lap, a whole partying happening in the background while you keep your eyes focused on your boyfriend.

rafe isn't drunk—he hasn't had nearly enough or snorted or smoked anything to get him buzzed, when he stares at you like this, you have to believe he's high on something.

blue eyes blown with lust stare at you while you look back. you can only meet rafe's gaze for a minute, maybe two, before you have to look away, face burning and skin feel hot all over.

instead you keep staring down at rafe's hand, holding two of your boyfriend's fingers in your hand, holding on tight and pressing down while you try to listen to what he's even saying.

"y'wanna go home?" rafe asks, leaning in to whisper the words in your ear. he brushes some of your hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek that makes your stomach tighten uncomfortabtly.

"we just got here rafe," you reply quietly, trying not to make it so obvious. it's a bustling party—no one's even paying attention to the two of you. even if they were, they weren't seeing anything out of place. you were always touching rafe somehow and he was always touching you. you don't even remember the last time you had been out out rafe's eyeshot at a party.

"who cares?" it's your turn to stare, looking at your boyfriend and biting your cheek.

"it's rude. you told them we'd come."

"well we're here, so, we came." rafe smirks at you and you laugh—just like that you feel a little better, some of the tension dissolving away. you're always like this—caring too much about what people think, worried about their opinion. you don't want kelce to think less of you if you make rafe leave everything early.

your grip on rafe's fingers gets tighter as even the mere thought of the idea stresses you out.

"c'mon, relax. we'll stay a little longer."

"okay. i, um- sorry." you loosen your grip but don't let go, staring down at rafe's hand while you keep playing with his fingers. curled up on his lap like this, you seem to forget there's an entire crowd a few feet away.

"stop apologizin'." rafe reminds you again, flexing his hand while he does it. his ring catches the light and glimmers, your attention once again returning to your boyfriend's pretty hands. you don't let go unless you have to, looping your fingers around his and playing with his hand.

you hear rafe laugh quietly—and though not too long ago, you would have thought he was laughing at you, you know he's not.

"right. sorry," you say quietly, and rafe drops your hand out of his quickly. two fingers come to your jaw, holding you in place to look up at him. you watch with big eyes, waiting in anticipation.

"stop apologizin'. how do i get you to remember that, huh?" his fingers move, brushing over your chin and then your lower lip. your eyes flick down at rafe's hand so close to you, and then back at him. "got some ideas, kid?"

you shake your head, but you don't need to say or do anything—rafe's always been like that. he understands you without you needing to use words. and similarly, you understand him without needed to be told.

your mouth opens, and rafe pushes in one huge finger, first just to the knuckle, then to the base. you take it, eyes getting a little watery, your mouth getting his fingers completely wet with spit. rafe pulls out, and then adds another finger. you vaguely hear him murmuring something about shutting you up, but you don't even process it.

your head feels heavy, stomach tight, another hot, uncomfortable wetness growing between your legs. you start thinking things you really shouldn't, not with so many people around, but the thoughts trickle in anyway.

you stay like that for much too long. anyone could see it—the vulgar scene infront of them with you choking on two of rafe's fingers until you don't choke anymore, cheeks wet and eyes watery, even spit on your lips and chin.

"yeah, kid. that's it. shit."

when rafe finally pulls his fingers out, it's because he hears topper and kelce somewhere behind him. you wipe your eyes and your mouth, hoping you look somewhat presentable. next to you, rafe admires his wet fingers.

his friends say something but you don't hear it. rafe turns to you, talking quietly into your ear again so you can hear him over the noise of the party and the loud music.

"you wanna go home now?"

you lean back in to reply.

"unless you just wanna do it here." rafe pulls back to stare at you, confused. "but-but up to you. you can decide. either way."

[annwrites]

exactly what he needs, pt. 4 ♡ ⋆｡˚

— pairing: nate jacob x fem!reader

— type: part of a series

— summary: nate & you have breakfast together, made by you. he then takes you grocery shopping, & later in the week, he finally asks you to be his!

— tags: cute lil domestic moments, you wearing nate's jersey, meeting the parents day 1, first kiss

— tw: dollification (mans isn't even trying to hide it anymore, he straight-up is tying bows in your hair now), eating, snooping, it being implied that nate has already thought about one day baby-trapping you if push-comes-to-shove, misogyny (he's so mean to cassie), threatening, f receiving oral, emotional manipulation, possessiveness

— word count: 11,661

— a/n: reader uses pads bc i use pads & we are all about self-inserts around here (i never learned how to use tampons, don't judge me). honestly, idk how nate would feel about pads. like, on the one hand, i can see him as seeing them as more "unsanitary", but also preferring it if reader is still a virgin. tbh, he prob just tries to pretend periods don't exist, & doesn't want to hear about it if you're on yours, apart from a slight heads-up & being informed once everything down there is back to normal.

i hope this doesn't seem like things are moving too fast in reader & nate already getting together, but tbf, nate & cassie had hung out for what? prob at most a couple hrs when fezco beat his ass, & then the boy is lying in the hospital thinking he's in love & wants to have babies with her. i say it's on-par for his character lol.

The next morning after your day together is the first time Nate ever shoots you a text. 

A simple Good morning, sweetheart.

You stare at it for around ten minutes, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. You type up a reply, then delete it. Then type up another and backspace the entirety of it as well.

Finally, you press send on a simple Good morning. (:

Nate: Any plans for today?

You: Might clean the house a bit, then go grocery shopping.

You watch as three little dots dance on your screen, then suddenly disappear. You then suppose you’ve not supplied an incredibly interesting answer.

You toss your phone down on the bed, deciding to finally get up for the day. It’s nearly fifteen minutes later when you check your texts again and see that Nate replied…ten minutes ago.

Nate: How do you get your groceries home?

You: There’s a store not too far from here. If I don’t have very many, I usually just carry them as I walk. If I have quite a few, sometimes I take the bus.

Speaking of which, you need to check the schedule for it today and plan accordingly. That is, until Nate replies. 

Nate: I can drive you there and back. I don’t mind.

You begin to type, telling him that’s completely unnecessary, but you’re not fast enough.

A text from him pops up: omw

You throw yourself back on your bed, groaning. You’ve just woken up.

You hadn’t planned to go to the store for perhaps a few more hours. You want to at least wake up first. Eat something, then clean. Even if the house is already essentially spotless, but you have a cleaning schedule you try to adhere to to keep it that way. And to give yourself something to do on the weekends in your spare time.

Which is, apart from tutoring, all you really have.

You decide to just stay in your PJs—a pair of soft blue shorts with clouds on them and a white t-shirt.

You’ve already washed your face and brushed your teeth, as well as your hair—which is now in a bun atop your head.

You make your bed, opening your curtains, letting the morning sunshine into your room before you go to the living room and flip the lock on the door to let Nate in.

You then head to the kitchen to decide on what to make for breakfast. You’re torn between eggs and bacon, or waffles, with perhaps a small side of French toast, when you hear a truck roar into your driveway.

You’re torn from your debating over breakfast by a knock on the door.

“It’s open!”

Nate enters the house, slipping off his shoes, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m in the kitchen,” you call softly.

He comes to stand in the entryway. “Want me to give you a few while you get ready?”

He surely hopes you’re not the type who goes to the store in her pajamas, at least.

You turn around to look at him, leaning back against the counter behind you, crossing your arms over your chest. “Actually, I was planning on going later this afternoon. After cleaning. And eating… I haven’t had breakfast yet,” you say sheepishly.

“Shit,” he hangs his head for a moment, then looks at you again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fuck up your plans for the day. I just didn’t have anything to do this morning, so I thought I’d run over and help you out.”

You shake your head. “It’s ok. I appreciate it. You don’t have to stay if you have somewhere else you need to be.”

“I don’t. Not until this evening, at least.”

His dipshit dad wants everyone to have a family dinner together, while Nate wants to do anything else.

Like be here with you.

“Have you eaten yet?”

He has—a breakfast burrito maybe an hour ago. “No, do you want to go somewhere and get breakfast?”

“I could make us something instead?” You turn back around, opening the fridge again. “Any requests?”

He’s quiet for a moment, just taking you and this moment both in. You, still in your pajamas, having just rolled out of bed a little while ago, standing in the kitchen in the early-morning light, offering to cook for him. It’s all so…domestic. And a warm feeling forms in his chest at it—imaging this as his home with you. Imagining you’re both married and your kids are still asleep in the other room. 

You glance back to him.

He shakes his head to clear it. “I’m sorry, I’ve just never done—had this before.”

“What?”

“My-” he stops himself before he can say ‘girlfriend’. “A girl cooking for me.”

Your brows furrow. “Really? Neither Cassie or Maddy ever did?”

He chuckles. “I honestly don’t think of either of them know how.”

“That’s sad,” you state simply, before turning back around. “So, do you want bacon and eggs, or waffles, pancakes…I can do French toast?”

“Whatever you want to do is fine with me.” He likes that you know how to make so many things. That you want to do so for him. He’d chosen right with you. 

You turn around yet again. “You’re my guest, so you get to pick.”

He smirks, shrugging. “Bacon and eggs is fine with me.”

“How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled works.”

You nod, then start pulling out cookware.

Nate had stood to the side, watching as you worked, occasionally sipping on a mug of black coffee—you’d put some on just after having gotten up. He’d asked more than once if you wanted help as he watched you flit about the kitchen, but you’d only smiled and shook your head.

Finally, once breakfast is ready, you make the both of you a plate and carry them into the dining room, sitting his plate on one side of the table and yours on the other.

You take your seat before he can bother pulling it out for you. He tries not to let it irk him. He tells himself it’s because it’s a habit, since you’re in your own home. You’re not used to being catered to. But neither is he.

Thankfully, Nate had gone for a run after eating earlier, so he’s able to clean his plate. He doesn’t want your feelings hurt—for you to feel insulted—by him not eating every last bite. And it had been rather good, actually.

“You’re a good cook.” 

You look up to him, beaming. “Thank you, I’m glad you liked it. Do you want anything else?”

He leans back, shaking his head. “I don’t think I can fit anymore.”

You nod, standing, taking both your plates into the kitchen, placing them in the dishwasher.

You return to the dining room and remain silent as Nate types a message out on his phone, looking up to you as he tucks it back into his pocket.

“I’ll get dressed and then we can head out.”

He stands. “It’s warm out.”

You smile. “Thanks for the forecast.”

He smirks. “You could—if you want to—wear the skirt and top I bought you.”

You’d hung everything up to dry last night and had truthfully forgotten about all of it until his just-now reminding you.

“Unless you don’t like them?”

You shake your head. “No, I do. I just…I wish you had asked me first.”

“Would you have let me get them for you if I had?”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “Probably not.”

“Then I made the right decision to make it a surprise.” 

He heads in the direction of your bedroom, then, and you trail after him. “I just don’t understand why.”

You feel stupid, speaking to the back of his head.

He comes to sit in the swing-chair in the corner of your room. “Why what?”

“Why you bought me everything you did. I looked up the necklace, how much it costs…”

He’s unphased by it, knowing he’d spent well over a grand on you yesterday. But in truth, it hadn’t been nearly the amount he’d wanted to spend.

He'd wanted—more than anything—to take you into a lingerie store and blow a ton of cash on you there, watching you try on everything he asked you to. But he knew better. For now, at least.

“So I wanted to get you a few nice things. You act like it’s some sort of terrible thing for me to have done.”

You sit on the corner of your bed, facing him. “I’m very grateful. For all of it. I just…I hope you don’t think you need to buy my friendship, Nate. I’m not going anywhere.”

It has nothing to do with friendship. But he can’t tell you just how much it turns him on: spoiling you, buying you expensive things, the idea of you being covered in him—from shoes, to clothes, to jewelry, to perfume and more. It gets him off—makes getting off easier, in truth. Until he has your body to do that with, that is, at least.

He leans forward. “I’m glad to hear that. But you don’t have to worry—I never thought I did.”

He glances to your closet. “Do you want to get dressed?”

“I should probably check to make sure everything is dry. I hung everything up last night.”

You leave your bedroom, heading in the direction of the laundry room. 

Meanwhile, Nate stands, finally having a moment alone in your room. He wrenches open the drawer on your bedside table and is met with a couple remotes, a book, a few hair ties, a charging cable…nothing of interest. So he closes it.

Heart pounding, he peeks out your bedroom door—you’re nowhere to be seen—and he then opens the top drawer of your dresser next. Ever-organized, your panties are all in individual cubbies—all cotton, some solid colors, others with patterns printed across them, like small flowers and stars. He picks up a bra. White, with a bit of lace, a small bow in the front, another sage-green. Everything utterly virginal. He digs, but finds not one sex toy.

Perhaps you have them elsewhere. 

He jumps when he hears a door close. He steps into the hall a moment and sees the bathroom door is now shut. 

He returns to your room, getting on the floor and looking under your bed, where there’s only a couple vacuum-sealed bags full of clothes. He then quietly opens your closet. On the top shelf are a few boxes. He pulls down a shoe box, which, unsurprisingly, has a pair of brand new tennis shoes inside. He puts it back, pulling down another.

And it’s full of old Polaroids. They’re all from when you were younger. You and your dad, another of the two of you, a photo of a butterfly, another of a dog looking up at the camera, and he nearly drops the box when he finds a picture of the two of you. The pair of you can’t be more than six or seven-years-old, both of you smiling toothy grins up at the camera.

He flips it over. Written in faded blue ink on the back, it reads “Nate + Y/N ‘05”. He pockets the picture, putting the lid back on the box and setting it back in your closet. 

He stops snooping and sits back in his previous seat, unable to remember the picture ever having been taken. He wonders if you do.

When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Nate is still sitting in the corner of your room, his head leaned back and eyes closed, hands folded in his lap.

You silently sit on the edge of your bed, folding your legs over one another, draping your new pink skirt over them. You don't want to wake him, so just as you begin to consider changing back, closing your door and cleaning the house while he rests, he slowly opens his eyes.

"If you'd like to take a nap, you can."

He shakes his head, looking you over. You look perfect. For the most part. "Don't want to wear your necklace today?"

You glance to the robin's-egg colored box on top of your dresser. In truth, you're a bit paranoid about wearing something so expensive. What if the chain breaks and by the time you realize, it's long-gone?

You then look back to him, watching as he stands, opens the small box, then removes the necklace inside.

He comes to sit down behind you, slipping the chain around your neck, fastening it into place.

He then begins to tug the hairband from your ponytail.

You half-turn your head back toward him. "What're you-"

"Do you mind if I do your hair for you?"

You're starting to wonder if Nate has some hidden interest in hair-styling.

"I...I guess not."

He slips your hairband free, it coming to rest on his wrist along with the one he'd taken from you yesterday.

You sit there silently, enjoying the feeling of someone else's fingers in your hair once again, your cheeks growing warm as you feel him pull one side of your hair into a pigtail—something you're not quite sure about, but you decide to only make a judgement once he's finished.

He then does the same with the other side, smoothing some hair down your back, before gripping both your upper arms. "Done."

You stand, walking over to the mirror set atop your dresser and inspecting the half-up, half-down style. One pigtail on either side, the rest of your hair against your back.

"I think you look really pretty like that," he says from the bed behind you.

Who knew the star-quarterback had hidden hair-dressing talents.

You turn back around to him. "So when do I get to do your hair?"

He raises a brow.

"I could put clips and bows and ribbons-"

"Do you have ribbons?"

He...he can't seriously want you to put one in his hair...

"Yes."

He stands. "Where?"

"In the bathroom, the second drawer below the sink."

He leaves you standing there as he goes to rifle through them, returning a moment later with two that match the color of your skirt.

"Nate-"

"Turn around."

You're not sure that you appreciate his demanding tone, but do as he says nevertheless.

Once you have bows tied around either pigtail, Nate puts his hand against the small of your back. "Let's head out."

When the two of you arrive at the store, you go to get out, until Nate stops you by grabbing your left hand. "Wait for me to get it."

You sit back in your seat and wait for him to come around to your side. Once the door is open, you speak. "You don't have to come in with me if you'd rather wait here. I know grocery shopping, well, shopping in general, can be tedious."

He shrugs. "I don't mind."

He takes your hand, helping you down and shuts the door, leading you inside.

Nate stays close to your side as you toss various items into your cart—paying acute attention to each thing you do. You don't get a terrible amount of junk food, but he wishes you'd forgo the cereal. He'd already told you from here on out he'd be bringing you breakfast every morning.

He studies what kind of conditioner you use, what kind of lady razor, even your morning facial-wash. He briefly daydreams about getting you ready for the day—the detailed process he would go through to make you look like his own perfect living doll.

It's when you're in the frozen foods aisle that you briefly pause as he pretends to look over the frozen pizzas, when he's actually watching you. Watching you stare at a couple across the way, giggling and kissing each other, the girl's hand resting over her swollen belly, that is.

Hurt flashes across your features and he briefly grows angry, wondering if it's jealousy—if you know the man.

He steps over to you. "Do you know them?"

You jump in surprise at his presence, having been lost in your thoughts. You shake your head, throwing a bag of frozen vegetables in the cart. "No." You're quiet for a moment. "I was just thinking."

"About?"

You look at the happy pair again. "What that must feel like."

He places his palm against the small of your back, refusing to remove it for the rest of the shopping trip.

Nate of course takes it upon himself to not only load every single grocery bag into the bed of his truck, but also unloading and bringing every one into the kitchen once you're home. He simply watches from a kitchen island stool as you put them away.

He eventually excuses himself to your bathroom, deciding to finally cross the boundary of going through your medicine cabinet.

He locks the door, turning the faucet on as he goes through the cabinet under your sink first. Some toilet paper, a box of pads, some pantiliners, cotton balls, cotton pads—basic bathroom paraphernalia.

He then starts pulling open drawers. One he's already familiar with, it's filled with small baskets which hold elastics, hair bands, bows, clips, headbands and the like. Another houses hot-tools: a curling iron, which looks barely-used, a straightener, which has clearly been well-loved—the company name all but rubbed off of it, even an old crimping iron, and a blow-dryer.

He moves onto the last drawer, which just has extra toothpaste, toothbrushes, some lotion, triple antibiotic, extra shaving gel, and some other odds-and-ends.

Finally, he opens the medicine cabinet, curious if you're on birth control. If so, that will be coming to a stop immediately. Not only does he hate the horrid list of side effects that come with it, but once the two of you start fucking, he wants to be in complete control of your reproductive options.

Needs to be if... Well, if he eventually decides he can't live without you and has to resort to drastic options to keep the two of you permanently connected for the rest of your lives, he'll have that option.

But all he finds is some Tylenol, Advil, expired allergy pills, an old prescription bottle with your dad's name on it, a bottle of mouthwash, a small cup of bobby pins, some q-tips, and a couple—of course—clean makeup brushes, a few other items here and there.

He quickly searches the shower and just finds a few bottles of various kinds of soap.

Finally, he flushes the toilet, turns the water off, and comes to join you in the kitchen.

Nate had left not longer after you'd finished cleaning the house, him offering to help, but you telling him you could never ask a guest to do such a thing, so he'd instead sat on the couch, idly watching football, fantasizing once again about you being his perfect little housewife. Cooking and cleaning and grocery shopping for him, allowing him to dress you up and show you off.

It's in the moment as he watches you humming to yourself as you dust off the mantle that he decides this Thursday you'll finally be his.

Nate continues on with the studying ruse to continue spending one-on-one time with you.

Monday, you'd done exactly as he'd asked: you'd worn the white dress, a pair of flats with it even, your new necklace, a hint of blush, and you'd even curled your hair, which had made him hard near-instantly.

It had taken everything in him not to hold your hand as the two of you walked into school. As soon as he spotted Lexi—the ridiculous look on her face as she watched the two of you—he pulled you in the other direction before you could see her yourself, seating you with him and his friends. When you had brought up going to find Lexi, he'd merely told you he thought it might be nice for you to meet some new people that morning.

He knew by their expressions that his friends had wanted to say something—anything about you—perhaps throw around some vulgar jokes, but the death-glare he greeted them with instead kept them talking about football and some party that had gone on this last weekend, which he'd been unaware of, too concerned with filling his time with you.

As the week went on, the two of you began to text more and more. You woke up everyday to him and went to sleep to messages from him. He'd even called you once, and the two of you chatted for almost an hour about everything and nothing. He would've been content to stay up all night listening to your voice, until you had gotten off the phone, telling him you were going to sleep and you would see him in the morning.

You had no idea he was outside of your house that night, watching your bedside lamp flicker off.

Thursday after school, once the two of you are finished studying, Nate finally takes the plunge, praying to fucking God he gets what he's been dying to have for the last two weeks.

He pulls out his extra jersey from his bookbag, handing it to you.

You look up to him, confused.

"I thought you could wear it tomorrow to school, and the game that night."

You look down at it, the metallic number '18' on the front, then back up to him once more. "Isn't...isn't wearing a player's jersey to school something girlfriends usually do?"

He scoots the least bit closer to you, his legs on either side of your chair. He reaches up, gently gripping the back of your neck, light enough that it seems just a sweet gesture, but he knows what he means it as: him touching what is about to belong to him.

"Would that be such a bad thing?"

You blink once, twice. "What?"

He takes one of your hands in his free one. "Listen, the last few weeks," even if he knows it's only been two, but so little time together sounds...not the best out loud, "spending time with you has been a welcome change in my life. I know it started out as just tutoring, and we can keep doing that, of course. But, Y/N, I really, really like you. Being around you is just...so fucking easy. You're easy to talk to, to hang out with, to text with. And you're incredibly beautiful. And kind. And smart. Honestly, I could go on for the next hour, if not longer, about all your admirable qualities. Suffice to say that I'm very-much interested in being with you. And if you feel the same way that I do, then maybe we can give this a shot."

A strange, uneasy feeling comes over you. You tell yourself it's because you've never been asked out before. Never had someone show such blatant interest in you before like this. You're used to being alone, so of course the idea of being with someone—anyone—but especially Nate Jacobs, star football player, his dad's name being a household name in East Highland, and the guy every girl at school seems to want—seems unthinkable.

"I...I didn't think I was your type."

So does that mean you have thought about it? Being with him?

He runs his thumb over your knuckles. "I didn't think so either. But that's precisely why I think you're so good for me. You're not attention-seeking. Dating girls like that in the past has caused me nothing but trouble. You're not superficial. You care about shit—see things—in ways others just don't. Not at our age, at least. Not at our school. You're mature, responsible, know how to take care of yourself..."

He trails off, wanting you to reply. To just say yes. To give yourself to him.

"I don't know about this..."

His grip on your hand tightens just the smallest bit. "What's your concern?"

"How do I know you're not rebounding, from Cassie or Maddy?"

He shakes his head. "I'm not. I should've been done with Maddy a long time ago for the way she treated me. What she did at McKay's...I can never forgive that. And Cassie was a mistake from the first moment. We had both been drinking. And I just...I wasn't thinking clearly. But I am now. And I know what I want."

You look down to your lap. "And what if I screw things up? I've never dated someone before. I'd have no idea what to even do."

"Nothing here has to change. Not really. Us being together just means spending more time together." He fights back a smirk. "And me finally getting to kiss you."

Your head jerks up.

"Once you're ready," he adds on, knowing you'll be ready when he deems you so.

"And what if I'm just one more person to hurt or let you down?"

He feels like with that one question alone—you being so concerned for his wellbeing—he falls in love with you.

He releases your neck, now cupping your cheek. "You won't be. Do you think I haven't thought the same thing? You were abandoned by your mom. Your dad, too, essentially. The last thing I want is to be one more person to leave you. So I don't plan to.

"Listen, I'm not saying everything is going to be like a picture-perfect fairytale all the time, but I think so long as we're both happy, give each other our all, and consistently work at what we have, then we'll both be happy.

"Just in the time we've spent together, I've already opened up more to you alone than I have to anyone else in I can't tell you how long. I trust you."

He brushes the pad of his thumb over your lower lip and you want to cry from how gentle and sweet he's being—has been—with you.

Finally, you resign yourself to the likely fate of your first heartbreak.

"Okay."

His brows raise. "Yeah?"

You nod, a small smile on your face, your eyes filling with tears of joy. "Yes."

He stands, picking you up, wrapping your legs around his middle and your arms around his neck before spinning you around. "Oh, baby, I am going to make you so fucking happy."

You look down at him, and you believe it.

When you wake the next morning, you only get so far as brushing your teeth and washing your face when you hear a truck outside.

Still half-asleep, you wander to the front door and look through the peephole to see Nate coming up to it, one of his arms behind his back. You briefly wonder if you'd overslept as you flip the lock and open the door.

He comes in, pressing a kiss to your warm forehead. "Morning, angel."

You look up to him with sleepy eyes. "Am I running late?"

He smirks, thinking of the things he'd love to do with you while you're still half-asleep like this. It'd be too all easy to take control in bed.

He shakes his head. "No, I'm early," he says, pulling a bouquet of a dozen white roses out from behind his back.

You gasp lightly, taking them from him. "They're beautiful." You look up to him. "You didn't have to bring me flowers now that we're together."

It feels oddly strange to say.

He presses another kiss to your forehead. "I wanted to. It's something I want to do for you, bring my girlfriend flowers, take her on dates," he shuts the door behind him, backing you up against the wall, the flowers clutched against your chest as he places his palms on either side of you. "I hope you know I intend to spoil you fucking rotten."

Your eyes widen. "Oh."

He smirks. "C'mon, let's go get you ready."

Once you've put your flowers in a glass vase near a window in the kitchen, Nate takes your hand, leading you into the bathroom.

"Sit," he says before stopping himself, nearly opening the drawer to your straightener. He doesn't need you knowing he'd been snooping. "Straightener?"

"Uh...top drawer," you reply, seating yourself on the toilet lid

He retrieves the device, plugging it in.

As it heats up, he grabs your hairbrush from atop the sink and comes to stand behind you, running the bristles through your hair.

"You...you don't have to do my hair."

"I want to."

In truth, he wants to shave and moisturize your legs as well, then dress you in his jersey—picking out a bra and panties, too, before doing your makeup.

"Did you do this for Maddy and Cassie as well?"

He'd bought Maddy clothes, but she would've never let him dress her. Would've most-likely mocked him had he so much as given her a ponytail. Cassie was obviously a different story. "No. And we don't have to talk about them anymore. They're in the past now."

You fidget nervously with your hands. "Isn't that important—addressing our pasts to get to know one another better?"

Once your hair is free of tangles, he sets the brush down on top of the toilet tank. He then comes to stand in front of you, kneeling down to make the two of you level. "It is, but I don't want you to worry about either of them. You're the best thing for me now."

He sprays some heat-protectant on your hair before beginning to straighten it.

Nate gives you some privacy as you go over your legs with a razor one more time before getting dressed, even if you'd shaved the night previous. When you're finished, you come to stand in front of the mirror, and you simply stare.

Your hair is like it was the other day when you went grocery shopping, only, instead of ribbons on either side, he'd used hair bands that have two small balls on them that match the color of the numbering on his jersey. He'd actually done surprisingly well in doing your hair.

When you step out of the bathroom, he's waiting for you in your bedroom, his extra jersey, which you'd had hung up in your closet, now resting on your bed.

You nearly want to pinch yourself, everything seems so unreal in this moment.

He picks up the blush he'd gotten you, along with a makeup brush from your hardly-ever-used vanity and he dips it into the fine powder before gripping your chin, swiping the brush over the apples of both of your cheeks once, then twice.

You giggle nervously. "I'm starting to feel like a living-doll or something."

He smirks, snapping the compact shut, setting the materials back where they go. "I just like taking care of you."

He picks up your diamond Tiffany necklace, one more sign of his ownership over you, and clasps it around your neck.

He nods down to the jersey. "I'll let you get dressed."

Nate fights back a raging erection every mile to school. Here you sit, completely fucking covered in him, in the passenger seat of his truck. He'd done your hair, your makeup, bought the piece of jewelry you're now wearing, and his jersey hangs from your frame like a dress—he'd also picked out the white pair of tennis shoes from your closet that you're now wearing. Even eating a muffin he'd stopped to pick up for you.

He wants to pull over in a secluded spot somewhere and claim your virginity—one more part of you that will now belong to him—but he tells himself that will come soon enough.

If his plan works, you'll be in his bed, a whimpering, crying, whining, begging mess under him, sooner rather than later.

Your pussy will be his to fuck whenever and however he pleases.

He'll finally be back to no longer having to use his hand.

His fucked-up sexual fantasies of the two of you will finally get to come true

When Nate pulls into the lot, he 'accidentally' steps on one of your shoelaces after you've gotten out of the truck. He lifts you back up into your seat, setting your foot atop his knee—just like at the bowling alley—and people watch from their cars as he ties your shoe for you.

Finally, he takes your hand, firmly twining your fingers together, before locking his vehicle behind the two of you, as you walk into school together.

And you feel yourself begin to sweat nervously with every pair of eyes that turn your way, some people clearly not thinking much of it—bless those few—while others react with shocked expressions, whispering amongst themselves, eyeing you up and down, making you want to crawl inside a hole.

You look up to Nate and he looks nothing short of confident and unbothered.

You then glance over to Lexi's table and Lexi's expression somehow looks...sad? Disappointed, maybe?

Cassie, however, is shaking she's so enraged.

You quickly balk and look away from her before sitting down beside Nate, thankful you had worn a pair of black bicycle shorts under his jersey.

You drown out Nate's football friends chatting with him about tonight's game as he places his hand on your knee, then slowly moves it higher, then higher, until it's on the middle of your thigh.

You can feel your face growing warm out of mortification. What if someone sees? Thinks that the two of you are...well, already doing that.

You're torn from worrisome thoughts, thinking perhaps you'd made a mistake—you're not sure exactly what choice to consider as much—by Nate squeezing your leg.

You blink up at him. "What?"

He nods toward his friend. "He asked you a question."

You look at the young man across the table, who's maybe a year younger than the both of you, with black hair and hazel eyes, braces still on his teeth.

"I'm sorry, I guess I didn't hear you."

"I asked if you were going to be at the game tonight, since you're Nate's new girl."

"Of course she is," Nate replies for you. "She'll be in the stands cheering us onto victory. Right, baby?"

You give him a nervous smile, then nod.

He's pleased with your agreeable response.

When you get into second period, Cassie is already there, in her seat, which is just behind and diagonal to yours. You don't look at her as you lie your books on your desk, afraid to meet her eyes.

Then you hear her whisper "bitch" as you take your seat.

You slowly turn back to look at her, filled with hurt at the cruel name.

She gives you a nasty look. "What are you looking at?" She asks in a snide tone.

You turn back around without another word, fighting back tears for the rest of class, unable to think of anything else but how she'd always been so nice to you, and now despises you.

Once class is over, you go out to your locker, so distracted that you don't see Nate leaning against the one next to it with a smile meant only for you.

A smile that immediately disappears when he sees the sullen look on your face, and your bloodshot eyes.

You fumble with your lock twice before finally getting your locker open.

"What's wrong?"

You nearly jump at the sound of his voice.

You shake your head, setting your books back on their shelves with shaking hands. "N-nothing."

He leans down closer to you and speaks gently, quietly. "Something happened. Tell me."

He isn't going to take no for an answer.

You shake your head and he feels his fuse growing shorter. "Did someone say something to you?"

You look up to him. "I don't want to cause any trouble."

He delicately laces his fingers through your hair. "You won't. Just tell me what happened, sweetheart."

You shift from one foot to the other, clutching one of your textbooks to your chest. "Cassie. She-"

His tone grows hard. "What did she do?"

"When I got into class she called me a bitch. I wasn't...I wasn't sure if I heard her correctly. I turned around to look at her and she just...she had such a mean look on her face and asked me what I was looking at, so I just turned around."

He clenches his jaw so hard he's sure it will break. If that stupid whore ruins what he'd just gotten to finally happen with you—making you his—he'll fucking kill her. Actually kill her.

He wants to make a scene right in the middle of the hallway, wants to show you just how far he's willing to go to protect you, even just your feelings, but he knows it will only frighten you away. Showing his devotion to you in extreme measures is something that will have to come in time.

He presses a firm kiss to your forehead, staring down Cassie across the way, who's watching the both of you with a devastated look on her face. He then looks down at you, lifting your chin until your eyes are looking into his own. "Just ignore her. She's jealous. That's all it is. Eventually she'll get over it and move onto her next flavor-of-the-month."

You nod, grabbing the rest of your things for third period.

He smiles down at you, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. "I'll be there in a minute. I'm going to run to the restroom first."

You nod, heading to class.

Once you're out of sight, he makes a b-line for Cassie.

And the dumb bitch is stupid enough to actually smile at him.

When he reaches her, he slams her locker shut with one hand—causing her to jump—keeping it firmly in place against it as he stares her down. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

She shakes some hair off of her shoulder, looking up to him, back straight, eyes pensive. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's complete fucking bull. Y/N told me what happened in second period." He lowers his voice so only she can hear. "Let's get one thing straight, you desperate whore, if you screw this up for me, you won't like what happens to you. You have no idea the things I'm capable of—the lengths I'm willing to go to—when someone tries to destroy my life or take someone I love away from me."

She flinches at that—him admitting it—his feelings for you. And after such a short time...

"We had our fun, now I'm done with you, just like the other half of the male student population here. The fuck did you really think was going to happen with us? Did you think we'd...what? Get married, have kids, and live in a cul-de-sac in some fantasy where you're actually a good person that any man would deem worthy of marriage? I got exactly what I wanted and threw your ass to the curb when I got bored and you started acting fucking psychotic."

He points his finger at her face and she shrinks back against a locker, tears stinging her eyes. "Stay the fuck away from me, and even further away from Y/N. If I find out you've said another word—so much as come near her... Just try me, Cass."

With that, he steps away, heading to third period.

After school, Nate drops you off, promising he'll be back that evening to pick you up before the game, and you give him a soft kiss on the cheek before he leaves.

Once you're alone, for some reason, you feel like you can finally breathe. Like some weight had been bearing down on your chest all day and has suddenly lifted.

You blame it on the crowded halls and your noisy classmates.

You leave your hair the way it is, but change into something more comfortable before finding something to eat and sitting down to do homework.

In the middle of finishing your math homework, you begin to think of what had happened with Cassie. It had hurt your feelings, but you aren't angry. If anything, you feel sad on her behalf. While she was, of course, partly to blame, she'd still lost her best friend and boyfriend both, as well as earning herself an even worse reputation around school. You tell yourself the anger isn't necessarily directed at you. That's she's just lashing out in general due to being hurt and alone, and you're an easy target.

You're not sure trying to make nice with her is a good idea, however.

Your phone buzzes, ripping you away from your worries about Maddy trying to come after you next, even if she seems to have far less interest in you and Nate—minus that day in the parking lot—when you check it. You see that it's from Nate.

Nate: Be by around 6 to pick you up.

You: See you then. (:

Nate: Make sure to wear my jersey. 🏈

You grin at his finally using emojis.

You: I will. ❤️

You're left with a little over two hours to yourself before he'll be there to pick you up again. So you take another shower, knowing you sweated a bit more than usual today, then lie back on your bed and try to distract yourself with a movie.

Shortly before six, you dress in Nate's jersey again, and a fresh pair of panties and bicycle shorts before going out to sit on the swing in front of your house to wait for him.

You can't help but smile when he pulls up, butterflies in your stomach.

He comes around, opening the passenger door to the truck. Once you're seated, before you can buckle yourself, he does so for you.

You don't manage to say anything, such as telling him that him doing that really isn't necessary, before he shuts the door.

Nate rolls down the windows, blasting upbeat rap music on the way back to the school. You smile, thinking he looks cute when he's excited. He doesn't seem to exhibit that emotion a lot.

Then again, apart from winning at bowling, neither do you.

Perhaps the both of you are too serious for your age.

You lean back, a smile on your face, and he rests his hand on your upper thigh. You tell yourself you're fine with him touching you there.

That it doesn't make you uncomfortable.

That he's just trying to be a sweet boyfriend.

Once the two of you pull in, the parking lot is only sparingly filled. But the game also doesn't start until after seven.

Once Nate has helped you out of the truck, disliking that you'd already unbuckled yourself before he got a chance to, he takes your hand in his—his duffle bag slung over his other shoulder—as he heads in the direction of the field house. One you're around the backside of the school, he drops his bag on the ground, turning back to you.

He cups your cheek in his large palm. "Can I get a kiss for good luck?"

You hesitate for a moment. Then, "Yes," you say with a shy smile.

He smiles down at you in return before pressing you up against the brick building, then lowering his lips to yours.

He fights back a moan at finally getting to be this: your first kiss. The first one to taste you. The only person to ever have this intimate moment with you.

He opens your mouth with his, gently flicking his tongue against your own and he feels your body stiffen, until he does it again and you relax.

He stays like that for a good few minutes, his tongue tasting you, the sun beating down on his back as his form shadows your own, both your eyes closed as you, after seventeen years, finally find out what it's like to be kissed.

And it's slow and gentle and passionate. And you feel heat pool between your thighs.

You whimper against his lips and his cock hardens at the sound.

He pulls back just the least bit, his lips hovering over your own, which are now red, a bit swollen. "What was that?"

"I dunno," you say, gripping his t-shirt, pulling him back down to you.

He grows impossibly harder at the fact you want more.

He easily obliges.

He wants to move his lips down to your neck, wants to give you a hicky before you go sit on the bleachers for the game, but doesn't.

Finally, he pulls away, both your breathing labored. "Alright, I have to go get ready, my little good-luck charm."

You laugh at that.

He presses one more soft kiss to your lips before reaching down and grabbing his bag.

"Oh," he says, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. "This is for your ticket." He hands you a five dollar bill. "And this is incase you want anything from the concessions."

He hands you a fifty and your eyes widen.

"I don't think a pretzel costs that much, Nate."

He shrugs. "Maybe you'll want a souvenir of your first game."

You stand on your tiptoes and he smirks, leaning down again as you wrap your arms around his neck. You press a soft kiss to his cheek, before whispering in his ear. "Good luck. And thank you."

He kisses your lips again before stepping away. "I'll look for you in the bleachers."

He begins to walk backwards toward the field house.

"I'll be there cheering you on."

He smiles at the image of that. "Maybe we can do something after."

You nod. "Good luck!"

Surprisingly, when you go to sit on the bleachers, Cassie, who's gathered with the rest of the cheerleaders, doesn't look back at you but once, shortly after you first sit down. It'd only been a glance, and then her completely ignoring you, which you're beyond okay with.

You'd bought yourself a water before finding a seat, the day still hot with the sun out, even if it's beginning to slowly set.

A sense of thrill fills you when the players run onto the field, your eyes immediately honing in on number eighteen.

You feel your cheeks grow impossibly warmer when you remember your kiss from earlier.

You watch as the players gather around their coach, Nate removing his helmet as they—you assume—strategize. He glances up to you and gives you a wink and you smile in return, blowing him a kiss.

Once they break, Nate pretends to catch it, pressing it to his chest before putting his helmet back on.

You can't help but admire him in his uniform.

You've never liked sports before tonight. But with Nate now being your boyfriend and out there on the field, you're completely engrossed. You sit on the edge of your seat the entire game, just watching him running this way and that across the field, blushing when you think about the two of you wearing matching jerseys.

And every time he scores a touchdown, which turns out to be a lot, you hop up from your seat, clapping and smiling, feeling proud of him.

In all honesty, seeing him plowing through the other players and tackling and just...playing the game...actually turns you on a little. Okay, perhaps a bit more than a little. It just makes him look so strong.

You wonder what he would think of that fact.

Once the game is over, the Blackhawks having unsurprisingly won, Nate removes his helmet, yelling and laughing in victory with the rest of his teammates. You smile, glad to see him happy.

He looks into the stands, searching for you and finds you in the same spot you've been in all night.

He waves his hand for you to come down and you do, coming to stand on the other side of the fence from him.

He rests his forearms atop it. "So, what did you think?"

You grip a few of his fingers. "I had fun, which I didn't expect." You giggle to yourself.

"What?" He asks with a smirk.

You shake your head.

"Well, now you have to tell me."

You look up at him from under your lashes and he can already tell he's going to fucking love whatever is about to come out of that pretty little mouth.

"You look really good in your uniform."

He leans forward. "Oh, yeah?"

You nod. "Mhm."

He reaches forward, gripping the one you're wearing, bringing you a bit closer to him. "So do you."

You kiss then, the taste of him now mixed with sweat and grass and fresh air.

He pulls away. "Climb over here."

Watch me fall or hurt myself, you think as you wedge your tennis shoe in the chain-link fence. Once you're halfway up, Nate lifts you the rest of the way over, and you wrap your legs around his middle, running your fingers through his slick hair.

"Sorry, I'm all sweaty."

You shake your head. "I don't mind," you say before kissing him.

You wait for Nate outside of the field house, leaned back against the red brick stones, staring up at the millions of stars littering the night sky, feeling so completely happy for the first time in you're not sure how long.

Once players begin to file out, you watch for Nate to be among them. When he exits, he glances in your direction, coming over to stand in front of you, offering you his hand. "Ready?"

You nod.

Once you're in his truck, he stands in the passenger side doorway, one of his arms resting against the top of the truck, his other hand against your left calf.

"I've had a really great night, and I don't really want to just drop you off at home, and then it ends."

You just look at him, waiting for him to continue.

"If I ask you to stay the night at my place, will you?"

You shift in your seat. "Doing...doing what?"

"Just sleeping," he states. "Maybe we can watch a movie in bed or something."

You think about it for a moment, not sure you're comfortable with moving this quickly.

"What about your parents?"

"What about 'em?"

"They won't mind you bringing a girl home late at night?"

He shakes his head. "I mind my business and they mind theirs. If I want to invite someone over, they're not going to tell me no."

You think that's a very unconventional way to parent, especially when it comes to him having a girl in his room—in his bed.

"You don't think it's a little early for me to be spending the night?" You ask gently, using a kind tone to try and prevent hurting his feelings.

He's quiet for a moment, now looking away from you. "I'm sorry. I guess I got too excited to spend more time with you tonight. It was a stupid idea. I shouldn't have asked in the first place. Just forget I did."

He goes to pull away and you suddenly feel bad. You'd hurt his feeling anyway. Something you had told him you didn't want to do just yesterday.

You quickly grab his hand. "No, I'm sorry. I just...I don't-" you scramble for some excuse that isn't 'this makes me uncomfortable'. "I don't want you to get the wrong impression about me."

He softens, stepping closer to you again, his hand sliding up your thigh. "Like what?"

You relax at the tension quickly dissipating. "Like..." you bite your lip. "Like I'm easy. Or...or a slut. Or-"

That same hand comes up to caress your cheek. "Baby, you'd never even had your first kiss before tonight. I could never think that about you. You're probably the most innocent girl—person, even—at this school. And like I said, we'll only be sleeping."

You look at him for a moment. "I don't have a change of clothes. Or a toothbrush or-"

"You can just wear something of mine. And we have extras, I'll just give you one."

Finally, you cave. "Ok."

He gives you a gentle smile. "Ok."

When you and Nate pull up to his house, you suddenly feel inadequate at the large home that looms before you. Two stories tall and very, very expensive looking.

You're so busy studying the extravagance of it that you don't notice Nate unbuckling you.

"Your house is-"

"Obnoxious, I know."

He helps you down, taking your hand in his before grabbing his bag and heading inside.

You glance around the foyer, but not for long before Nate begins pulling you toward the stairs. And then you hear his name being called from down the hall.

He stops in his tracks, rolling his eyes.

"Is that your mom?" You whisper.

He drops his duffel bag, which thumps against the floor. "Yeah."

"Nate, come in here, I want to tell you how great you were tonight!"

You take one of his hands in both of yours. "Can I meet her?"

He pulls his hand away without answering. Only, instead, giving you a 'wait here' before walking away.

You stand there, unsure about the sudden shift in his mood. It was like it had happened gradually on the way over and only became more extreme the moment her voice called to him.

Does he really hate being here that much?

When Nate enters the kitchen, his mom is making a salad at the island, his dad grabbing a beer from the fridge.

Marsha walks around it, gesturing for Nate to lean down to give her a hug, which he does, and she plants a quick kiss to his cheek. "You were so great tonight, honey. Your momma is very proud of you."

He nods. "Thanks."

He glances back down the hall, and then his dad speaks. "You left yourself open too much in the first quarter. I've said it before and I will again, you need to work on that, son."

Nate's fists tighten at his side.

He glances back down the hall again and immediately regrets it.

"Do we have company?" His mom asks.

"No. I do." He takes a step away.

"Wait, hold on. Who is it?"

He rolls his eyes. "Does it fucking matter? I need to get back to her-"

He lets out a low swear. He just had to say 'her'.

His mom crosses her arms, now interested. "Her? Did you bring a girl home?"

"I think your mother means 'another girl' home."

Nate glares at his father as he takes a swig of his beer. Finally, he looks back to his mom. "Yes."

Her brows raise. "Well, do I get to meet her?"

Nate sighs. He steps out of the kitchen, and you look up at him, now full of nerves. He jerks his head in the direction of the kitchen.

You walk up to him. "Is everything ok?" you whisper as he takes your hand.

"It's fine." Is all the reply he gives you before pulling you into the kitchen with him.

Your eyes look this way at that, taking in the lovely décor and the beautiful island and appliances, then looking to his mom, then his dad, who seems to be watching the two of you with no more than idle amusement.

"Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N, these are my parents."

His mom steps forward first, pulling you into an unexpected hug, but you quickly embrace her in return. You don't want to admit how nice it feels to be held by a mother, even if she isn't your own.

Finally, she pulls back, holding you in place by your upper-arms as she looks you over. "Well, don't you just look adorable in Nate's old jersey."

You flush a shade of crimson. "Thank you."

She releases you, placing her hand over her chest. "I'm Marsha, the mom. And this is-"

"Cal," His father finishes, stepping up to the island, reaching across it to shake your hand.

You nearly tell him you already know his name, but refrain, knowing doing so will only make this moment more awkward.

Once introductions are through, you step back to Nate's side.

"It's nice to meet the both of you."

"Oh, she's polite!" His mom chimes in. "I already like her a lot better than Maddy. Not that that's hard to achieve." She takes a bite of her salad, swallowing. "She was a truly awful girl."

Nate wraps his arm around your waist, but before he can pull you away and get you upstairs and locked away inside his room with him, Cal speaks. "Going through 'em awful fast, aren't you, Nate? That's what, three girls now, in almost as many months?"

You feel nothing short of embarrassed, perhaps even a little ashamed, at his comment.

Nate's grip on your hip tightens painfully for a moment, and you're sure it'll leave a bruise, but you don't speak, instead just bearing witness to the now-taut silence enveloping the room.

Nate steps away from you, going over to the fridge.

Nate grabs a beer, Cal going to grab himself another, until Nate speaks so low only he can hear. "Not nearly as fast as you, though, am I?"

"Excuse me?"

"You're such a fucking asshole. Leave me," he glances to you, then back to his dad, "And her alone. Stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours like we usually do."

With that, Nate comes over, firmly gripping your hand, and leading you upstairs.

Once Nate has shut the door behind the two of you, locking it, he throws his duffle bag down, then grabs a pair of boxers and sweatpants from his dresser before going into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

You seat yourself on his bed, wondering what, exactly, had been said between he and his dad to make him so upset. Unless it was the comment about him going through girls? On the one hand, it was kind of a shitty thing to say. On the other, parents sometimes give their kids a hard time. It comes with the territory.

A few moments later, Nate emerges from the bathroom, shirtless, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips and his hair damp and tousled.

You feel that same heat from earlier when he'd kissed you settling between your legs again. Then you tell yourself now is not the time—he's upset.

He walks over to his closet.

"Are you ok?" You ask softly.

He hands you a plain black t-shirt. "Here, you can wear this to bed after you've showered."

So he's not ready to talk about it just yet. "What about bottoms?"

He lies back on the bed, one of his arms slung over his eyes. "Nothing I have will fit you. The t-shirt is fine."

You accept that, padding into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you.

When you emerge, it's in Nate's shirt, a fluffy towel wrapped around your wet hair.

He's still lying on the bed in the same position from earlier.

You rub the towel against your hair a few times, then drop it in his hamper before coming to sit with your legs crossed beside him. You're silent for a moment, trying to think of the right thing to say. Finally, you just make a simple offer.

"Do you want me to leave?"

He shakes his head, his other arm coming to rub up and down your spine. "No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He lowers the arm from over his eyes, which are now open, staring up at the ceiling. "There's nothing to talk about. I told you: he's an asshole."

You shrug. "He's your dad. Picking on you is kind of part of his job."

"That's not why he said it. It's not why he does any of the shit that he does. It has nothing to do with him being my dad."

"Maybe he just-"

He looks at you then. "Can we just not talk about my dad while we're in bed together?"

You withdraw into yourself a little at his sudden irritation. And how he had worded it. Like you're doing something other than just talking.

"Ok, I'm sorry."

He notes that your tone now sounds slightly frightened. He sits up, leaning on his arm, his free hand coming to grip your waist. "No, I am. I didn't mean to snap at you. It's just him. It's always fucking him."

"Have the two of you ever considered sitting down and just having a heart-to-heart?"

He snorts, then looks at you like that's the stupidest idea anyone has ever come up with.

"Lie down with me," he says, pulling back the covers, which you then crawl beneath.

He pulls you against him, his arm under your neck, fingertips lightly tracing the tip of your shoulder. "Thank you for being here."

"You're welcome. I'm very proud of you tonight. It sounds like your mom is too."

He bends the arm that's not holding you behind his head.

"I'm glad you stayed."

"Of course I did," you say, resting your hand over his chest. "I thought I hated sports until tonight. I had a fun time watching you."

He looks at you. "Good."

He then slips his arm out from under you, your head falling back against a pillow which smells of cologne and him. He hovers over top of you, scooting you lower before he presses a kiss to your forehead.

You panic. "Nate..."

He looks down, but you grab his chin, which he doesn't expect.

"Don't look."

His brows furrow.

"The t-shirt sort of rode up."

He bites back a smirk. So you're half-naked underneath him, then.

He lowers his body onto your own. "There, now I can't see."

You remain staring up at him.

He plants a soft kiss to your cheek. "Is this ok?"

You're quiet for a moment. Longer than he'd like. Until, finally, "I guess so."

That's all the permission he needs before he starts kissing you. He teases you with his tongue again like earlier, since you had seemed to like that so much, before he eventually moves lower, pressing hot, wet kisses to your neck.

He moves from one side, and when he gets to the other, you jerk underneath him and whimper.

So he kisses that same spot again and your breathing quickens.

His cock fills with blood, knowing he's found a sweet spot.

And so he kisses and sucks at the sensitive skin, until your hips have risen up against him, your arms around his neck and you're panting. He flicks his tongue and you moan in the back of your throat, your control slipping more and more with each kiss. He doesn't stop until he's sure you're soaked and he sees that he's left a purple bruise in his wake.

When he looks down at you, your face is flushed, your lips slightly parted, your hair a mess. It'd be so fucking easy to have his way with you right now. But it would ruin everything to do it this soon.

"Did you like that?" he asks, smoothing some hair from your face.

You nod.

He wonders just how far you'll let him go tonight, short of him breaking your hymen with his cock.

He grips your hip in one of his hands, then moves it higher, to the curve of your side, then higher, until you reach down, firmly grabbing his wrist, his hand now underneath his t-shirt that's barely even covering you now.

"Do you want me to stop?"

"I-" you shut your mouth.

In truth, all you want is to touch yourself. Or maybe let him. No. You can't do that. Not this soon. God, what are you doing? In his bed, nearly naked—nothing covering your bottom half, which is now so wet your thighs are slick from it—and wanting nothing more than to tell him to keep going.

You've never felt like this before. But you've also never had any form of intimacy with another person before.

Only ever yourself.

He gives you a look of understanding. "I don't give a shit what society expects of you. What you think you're supposed to do. I want to know what you want, right now, in this moment."

Finally, after a beat of silence, you release his wrist.

He slowly pushes up the t-shirt higher, then higher, until he can see the bottom swell of your breasts, then he pulls it over your head, tossing it on the floor.

And he just marvels at you. Your naked body lying back against his dark sheets. He still has his lower half covering your own, but knows he'll get to see every inch of you before the night is through.

He leans down, taking one of your nipples in his mouth and you throw your head back.

He grips your hips, trailing his tongue over to your other breast, now sucking on it. He looks up to you. Your eyes are now closed, head thrown back, mouth slightly parted.

He rolls a nipple between his teeth and your hips lift, which he pushes back down into the mattress.

He moves back to your other breast, doing the same, willing a whimper or a cry from your lips. Even his fucking name. Instead, you're so damn quiet. Maddy and Cassie had both been vocal—sometimes overly so. This he's not used to.

Finally, he lifts his head and your eyes pop open, wondering why he's stopped.

"Are you not enjoying it?"

Your brows furrow. "What?"

"You're not really making any noise. Are you this quiet when you touch yourself?"

You wait a moment, then nod. He just tells himself that he won't stop until he's changed that fact, then.

He dives back down, devouring your breasts again, then kissing between them, gradually moving lower and lower, until he's right below your belly button.

You suddenly sit half-up, leaning back on your forearms.

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks.

Your heart is pounding, and there's an incredibly strong pulse going between your thighs. A million thoughts race through your head. The most prominent one: is this why he'd given you attention in the first place? To make you another notch in his belt?

"This...this isn't all you wanted me for-"

"No. I want you. All of you. Being intimate with you is just one part of it. I don't plan on having sex with you tonight. When I take your virginity, I want it to be perfect. For your sake. There's just something I want to try."

He releases one of your hips, twining his fingers between yours for reassurance. While he understands your hesitancy, he wishes you'd lie the fuck back down and spread your legs for him.

Until, finally, you do.

He kisses down your stomach, then is pleased to see that you'd recently shaven your pubic area.

He makes a mental note to start setting you up appointments, which he'll be paying for, so you can get waxed regularly. At least he won't have to worry about stubble or ingrown hairs at that point.

When he's finally eye-level with your pussy, his throbbing erection grows impossibly harder. You truly are fucking perfect in every way.

He lowers his mouth onto you and, finally, you cry out at the unexpected feeling.

He quickly throws both of your legs over his shoulders, spearing his tongue, burying it in the heat between your thighs. He flicks your clit and your fingers tighten around his.

God, you're already so fucking wet. He blames it on your being a virgin—not that he doesn't absolutely fucking love it.

So he does it again. And again. He then swirls his tongue this way and that, sliding up your soaked folds—God, you taste fucking amazing—then back down again. Finally, he pulls back the least bit and he hears you whine in response as he begins to kiss your inner thighs.

At least he'll have this to use against you when the time comes: a bit of oral sex, leading you right up to the edge, and then denying you an orgasm unless you do what he wants will be a perfect weapon against you.

Finally, after wiggling your hips more than once, clearly wanting his mouth back on your pussy, he gives you what you've silently asked him for.

He kisses, licks, sucks, bites—lightly—until he focuses solely on your clit.

He hopes you scream when you fucking cum just so his dad has to hear it.

Instead, that fantasy is broken when you release his hand, pulling one of his pillows over your face as you finish against his mouth, your hips lifting, which he once again pulls back down as he continues eating you out.

He only hears your muffled cries—he can swear he hears you say his name—until you finally drop the pillow on the floor, trying to catch your breath as he presses a few kisses to your now-pulsating pussy.

He rests his chin against your pubic area, watching as you slowly begin to calm, your legs still over his shoulders.

"How was that?"

You feel dazed, your legs like jelly, even a bit sweaty. "Good."

He raises a brow. "Just good?"

You tangle your fingers in your hair, the pulse of your pussy just now beginning to calm. "Really, really good."

"You liked it that much, huh?"

You nod.

"How much?"

You sit up, your muscles now feeling weak. "I loved it, Nate. T-thank you."

He studies you for a moment, considering. "Do you want me to do it again?"

"Really?"

He notes just how eager and excited you sound. Almost desperate for it—for him.

And in that moment, he knows he finally has you exactly where he fucking wants you.

[heartsforhavik]

this isn’t paw-some… (bi-han, tomas x gn reader)

warnings: slight angst to comfort in both, established relationship in bi-han's, slight spoilers for mk1 story mode, gender neutral reader

summary: bi-han and tomas vrbada somehow turned into animals! but you have no idea it's them, so you end up telling them a secret... (both separate)

a/n: heyyy so um i had no idea what to write yesterday bc i hated every draft i had but i FINALLY got this one done. idk why but i'm in a phase where i hate everything i write. thanks for your patience guys!

bi-han

bi-han woke up to his bedsheets completely engulfing him. in confusion, he tried pulling them aside, but it barely moved an inch.

“what is this…?” he tried mumbling, but instead it came out sounding like the meows of a cat.

in a panic, he immediately rolled out of his bedsheets and tried to stand up, but his legs weren't strong enough to hold him up.

in fact, he didn't even have his legs anymore. he had little legs and paws.

this had to be a nightmare. there's no way he just woke up as a cat. fortunately, he happened to have a day off. but he still had many questions. why did he wake up as a cat? is this a permanent change?

but he knew there was no need to stress. bi-han needed to chill out. panicking doesn't solve anything. he must find you, surely you can recognize him immediately.

first, he must learn to walk as a cat. walking on all fours felt so strange to him, especially because his new paws were so sensitive to the hard, wooden floors. but he can get used to it for now.

you heard a quiet scratching noise at your door. thinking someone probably just accidentally brushed up against your door, you ignored it. until you heard it again. and again. louder each time.

you groaned, getting up and opening the door to a cute black cat.

"oh hello there! what are you doing in a place like this?" you giggled, immediately picking it up and petting it gently.

the cat purred in contentment, and rubbed its head against your hand.

while bi-han enjoyed the close proximity to you, he still needed to find out how to let you know *he* is the cat you are holding.

"i wonder if bi-han would approve of you wandering around." you sighed.

bi-han meowed as loud as he could, tapped on your chest with his little paw, then pointed towards himself. he hoped you understood what he was trying to say.

"it looks like you're trying to stretch. maybe we can go for a walk?" you offered, setting him down.

'this is gonna take a while.' bi-han thought. for now, all he could do was grumpily walk beside you.

-

"...and then, bi-han told me he was too busy for a night out. i understand that he's the grandmaster and stuff, but i just wish i could spend more time with him. you know?" you ranted to the cat walking beside you, *still* unaware it was bi-han himself.

he listened intently to what you had to say. it was true, he was very busy most of the time and couldn't spend much time with you. but he had no idea it was affecting you this much. once he turns human again, he'll make sure to fix the problem.

after an hour or so of walking around, you finally got tired and walked back to your home. once you reached your bedroom, you picked up the cat you spent your day with and placed it on your bed.

"i hope you don't have any diseases, that wouldn't be very good for me." you laughed nervously, as you climbed into bed next to the cat.

bi-han looked at you in annoyance and scrunched his little nose as if you just called him something offensive.

"anyways, goodnight little one. i hope we can find your owner tomorrow. if not, i can take care of you! as long as bi-han allows it..." you trailed off. "in fact, i'm really scared of displeasing him.."

bi-han's ears perked up at what you said. why would you be so scared of pleasing him? is he so intimidating that he even makes his significant other frightened?

"i mean, it's not like he's aggressive or anything, i just don't want to disappoint him. i feel like i'm walking on eggshells around him. if i say the wrong thing, he would think i'm unworthy of being with him. sometimes... i'm not sure if he really loves me. if he really loved me, he would put more effort into spending time with me... right?" you whispered, as a small tear escaped from your eye.

bi-han's heart broke a bit when he heard that. he knows that he is a bit.. judgemental. but he never meant to make you feel unloved.

he crawled up to you and licked your tear away. he hoped that it would make you feel a bit better about your situation. he made a mental note to talk to you as soon as he was human again. the last thing bi-han wanted to do was hurt you. even after all the people he has betrayed, hurt, and even killed... you were the only person he never wished to harm.

he cuddled up beside you and made himself comfortable. surely a bit of physical touch would make you feel better? it's not like he has been doing that in his human form anyway.. which he notes to fix soon.

soon you both drifted off to sleep peacefully, with bi-han curled up comfortably in your arms.

the next morning, you woke up to bi-han sleeping right next to you. when did he get there?

“bi-han?” you whispered.

when he woke up, he immediately checked his arms and legs. thankfully, he was human again.

“good morning, beloved. how did you sleep?” bi-han asked, strangely casual even though he magically appeared in your bed.

“i slept.. fine. but i had a cat with me. it was a cute little black cat, it showed up at my door out of nowhere yesterday. it was kind of grumpy, but it listened to me when i ranted to it. it kind of reminded me of you.” you giggled.

“about that…” bi-han sighed. “…i have some explaining to do.”

tomas vrbada

tomas had invited you to madam bo’s for dinner, and he was planning on confessing his feelings to you there. but unfortunately, he couldn't exactly make it.

he accidentally fell asleep, and when he woke up he realized he was late. he immediately got up from his bed and tried standing up, but he couldn't stand on his two legs anymore. because his legs were now full of fur, and he had paws.

this could not be happening. the first time he gained the courage to make a move and ask you out, he ends up turning into a dog.

he had to find a way to get to you and do something. what if you think he stood you up on purpose?

-

you were sitting at a table at madam bo's, waiting for tomas to arrive. you get that he's probably busy, so you were being very patient and decided to wait a bit. but you were sitting there for so long, the place was going to close soon.

you were about to get up and leave, until a golden retriever dog ran up to you with its tail wagging intensely.

it didn't have a collar, so it seemed to be a random stray dog that took a liking to you. but it also seemed so well-behaved, how could it be a stray?

tomas was relieved to see that you were still at the restaurant. he felt bad that he made you wait for nothing, but at least that was a sign that you cared about him.

"oh, hello there. what could you be doing in a place like this?" you greeted, petting the dog in front of you.

tomas felt a bit strange getting petted by you, but it somehow felt really good.

"i was waiting for someone, but he never came..." you sighed. "this place is about to close. maybe you can accompany me while i walk home?"

tomas didn't hesitate to walk beside you, but he couldn't help but feel extremely guilty for wasting your time. he'll find a way to make up for it.

-

"i know he's a busy guy, but wouldn't he know if he couldn't make it today? i kind of got myself all dressed up for nothing.." you admitted, opening up to the loyal dog that never strayed from your side throughout your walk.

tomas's heart broke when he heard how you felt. if only he was human at that moment, he would've been apologizing profusely and trying to make you feel better.

"i really, really like him. i think he's so kind, fun, and he has always cared about me. i was so excited to go on this date with him, because i thought that maybe it was a sign that he liked me back. i'm trying to stay positive and hope that he was probably just busy, but what if he just doesn't actually care about me?" you sighed.

tomas whimpered in response, feeling extremely guilty about hurting you. he never meant to make you feel that way.

"i don't know if you are sad for me or if you're just hungry.. but you're a good listener. you remind me a lot of tomas..." you mumbled, feeling appreciated by your little companion.

-

once you arrived to your house, tomas felt very creepy. he was walking around your bedroom, looking at the little trinkets you have and sniffing around. he couldn't help it, it's like he had an instinct to snoop around your living space now that he was a dog.

"i'm really tired... stay here, and i'll find you some kind of blanket to sleep on. i have to put on my pyjamas first, though." you said, silently regretting that you wasted such a good outfit to be stood up.

when you returned to tomas, he was still sitting in your bedroom and patiently waiting. you laid out a blanket for him, and then you crawled into your own bed.

"goodnight. hopefully i can find your owner tomorrow, if you have one. even though you probably can't understand me and i'm just talking to myself.." you mumbled, rolling over and going to sleep.

tomas tried to think of a way to make it up to you when he was human again. he felt so guilty for hurting you. he hoped you didn't lose feelings for him, it would make him feel even worse if you did.

-

the next morning, you woke up and you were expecting to see the same golden retriever from last night sleeping on the floor.

instead, you looked down and saw tomas himself peacefully asleep on your floor, wearing nothing but a blanket over his privates.

you immediately pinched yourself. this had to be a dream. you had so many questions. what happened with the dog? did tomas break in while you were sleeping?

"tomas?" you whispered.

he slowly opened his eyes, and he let out a sigh of relief as soon as he saw he had his regular body back.

but that sense of accomplishment faded as soon as he noticed that he was pretty much naked on your bedroom floor.

"good morning..." tomas greeted awkwardly.

"good morning." you replied, trying to look respectfully.

you both stood in awkward silence for a solid minute before you finally spoke up.

"so.. what brings you here... naked...?" you asked.

tomas blushed. "well..."

-

"so.. you were the dog from last night?" you questioned.

"yeah. i'm sorry for uh.. you know, turning into a dog and accidentally leaving you alone on that date." tomas apologized.

"did you hear everything i said last night?" you said quietly, embarrassed that you practically poured your heart out to him without knowing it.

"i did. i am still so sorry that i hurt you. i'll make it up to you, i promise. i'll take you out for dinner again, but i'll show up this time. and i'll pay the bill!" he offered.

hell yeah, free food. who could resist that? you instantly agreed to his offer and you had hope that the date would go well this time, and then maybe you two can become something more.

"great! i'll go get ready right now!"

"tomas, you have hours to get ready, there is no need to rush. and you're still naked, by the way." you sighed.

[sorcerersseestars]

LIMERENCE (part I)

Gojo Satoru x gn!reader

"I can't stop loving you, no matter how hard I try."

summary: Your long-time friend stirs feelings inside you that you never realized existed. Of course they bubble up in your chest while he’s in the midst of ignoring you and discovering his own possible romance. Your mutual friend thinks she has it all figured out—or does she?

pairing: gojo satoru x gn! reader

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

genre: hanahaki sickness au, angst, hurt/comfort, drama, slow burn!

warnings: mentions of feeling sick, being stonewalled kinda, usage of the word (Y/N) bc Gojo is too fed up for nicknames (in reality idk what else to use 😶), Gojo being an ass (common theme in my fics oops)

word count: 3.6k

a/n: This is the first part to my hanahaki au! I’ve had this in my drafts for the longest time, but never committed to writing it all out until now. This first bit is kinda slow and maybe confusing BUT hopefully I’ll be able to clear it up next chapter. Not proof read very thoroughly; will probably regret later 🫥

part ii part iii

“DON’T YOU THINK you could be a bit nicer to me?” You try, clasping your hands together as you look up at him with an odd smile—a cross between apologetic and playful. You’re joking, or at least half joking. It’s too difficult to be serious with Gojo; his habit of masking emotion with jest must be rubbing off on you.

Only one corner of his mouth raises. “Good one, (Y/N)-chan. As if I didn’t use to pay your bills.”

He doesn’t look at you when he speaks, and he walks away from you without a single glance. You frown and lightly jog a few steps to catch up to him.

“Ah, and I’m forever thankful for that!” You say, cringing at how overly peppy your tone is. “But that’s not exactly what I meant.”

“Hmm,” Is all he says. His hands are in his pockets, but he doesn’t carry himself with as much ease as usual—his posture is closed off, angular and tense.

“What I meant was–” You prompt your own answer, as he doesn’t make any move to. “We haven’t seen each other in a while. I know you’ve been really busy lately, so I don’t blame you, but I think we should go out and do something. Could help relieve some work stress too, don’t you think so?”

“Maybe,” He says, the word short yet effective in its delivery. The word was sharp in his mouth, clear annoyance shaping his tongue enough for the word to have a bite to it.

You wince. He never used to be like this. Gojo has been in a state of perpetual mirth—and one could argue levity—for the entirety of your friendship, never taking anything seriously and always looking for opportunities to poke fun at you to half-jokingly glorify himself. His expression has always been infectiously positive—never molded into anything hard or serious.

But, lately, everything you thought you knew about Gojo Satoru has faded away into your memories. He never seeks out your presence anymore, which is polar opposite from your high school days, when he would follow you around and pester you until you’d hang out with him. You actually used to get annoyed at this behavior, but you’re sorely missing it now.

You feel like you know nothing about him these days, only hearing tidbits here and there from your mutual friend Shoko. It stings to know that he obviously talks to her, and quite often at that, seeing she always has new details to spill every other day.

It doesn’t make sense to you: him and Shoko were never particularly close, definitely not nearly as close as you and Gojo were. In fact, she thought of him as particularly annoying in high school, and often swore to you that she would cut all contact with him once they graduated.

Back then, you had rolled your eyes at her antics, never believing that anybody could cut Gojo out of their life, seeing as he simply wouldn’t let them. But how else could you describe what he seems to be doing to you?

You bite your lip nervously. “Satoru? Is there something wrong?”

“Not particularly,” He says with a forced smile that’s screaming for you to shut up. You pretend like it’s not the most disingenuous smile you’ve ever seen smeared on his face.

“Are you sure?” You probe. “I mean…what’s been going on with you these days? We haven’t seen each other in forever, and you don’t seem yourself.”

“Are you sure?”

His lips are quirked up, as they perpetually are, but it’s different this time. It’s mocking. A mocking smirk that’s telling you to face reality. Do you really know him anymore?

You pause in your steps, studying his expression. You can’t see his eyes, but you wish you could. He’s hard to read with that blindfold concealing those powerful eyes of his, but it never used to be a problem. It hurts that you’re now struggling to gauge him when your emotions used to feel like one.

Evidently, you can’t answer his question. Not that he seems to care.

“I’ve really got to get going. Students to teach, curses to kill, all that,” He announces, tone low and apathetic. Bored. “See ya.”

Your breath flutters in your throat as you try to bid him goodbye. You choke on your words and only end up tentatively raising a hand. Before you can wave, his form disappears. A gust of wind greets you in lieu of a proper goodbye.

You stay where you are for a few shocked moments, not even registering the hot tears that leak from the eyes he avoided.

You wander aimlessly around campus for a while, the whole interaction replaying in your head several times over. His “Are you sure?” needles its way into your brain even when you push it away, the words hitting where it hurts every time.

Your feet find themselves taking you to an empty break room – ah, this is the one that has your favorite flavor of tea. You turn the kettle on, then eagerly dig through the tea stash. You file through the individual packets quickly and thoroughly, but to no avail. It’s gone.

With a sigh, you grab a random tea bag and throw it into your mug. Frustrated, you roughly begin pouring the now-boiled water into the mug, but it doesn’t seem that was a good idea. Your hand slips for just a split second, but a sizable splash of boiling water still manages to singe your non-dominant hand. A stream of expletives leaves your mouth, and you instantly cradle your hand to your heart.

More tears appear. At least you have an excuse this time—it fucking hurts.

You trudge to the clinic, feeling quite silly, but also seeking some much-needed relief. And you’re not exactly imagining painkillers or an ice pack—no, there’s something else. Someone else.

You hesitantly knock on the door. You feel stupid, but you really have to see her.

You crack a smile at the creak of the door. Your friend and co-worker Shoko strides out with an air of confidence you wish you held.

“What happened?” She asks calmly, eyes lazily taking in your form.

“Spilled some water from the kettle,” You say lamely. “It hurts.”

That doesn’t really constitute a visit to one of the only reverse-cursed technique users in the school, and you know it. So does she.

“Mmhm,” She raises her eyebrows. “Well, come on in.”

You shuffle in a little sheepishly, not able to meet Shoko’s eyes. Now that you’re here, you start to feel unsure about your own motive—do you really want to discuss this? Won’t it just be embarrassing more than anything else?

You stall a little in your steps as the negative thoughts invade your head. You’re startled to attention by a poke to your side—when you look up, Shoko’s playful smirk fills your vision.

“Come on over to the sink and we’ll put that under some cool running water,” She says, gesturing to your reddened arm.

You cock your head, looking between her and the sink skeptically, “No ice?”

She shakes her head, sticking her tongue out at you a bit, “Nope! Running water for burns.”

You hold up your hands in defeat, smiling, “Whatever Doctor Shoko says.”

“And I do,” She says cheekily. “So get under that water!”

“Aye-aye,” You say with a salute.

She groans, “Ugh. You guys are so annoyingly similar. Hang on a sec, I gotta grab something.”

She turns away before she can see the way your expression drops. The smile is stolen from your face, leaving behind saddened eyes and a slight frown. There’s only one possible person she could be talking about.

You sigh and turn on the faucet—your disheartened sigh morphs into one of great relief as the cold water soothes your burn.

“That better?” Shoko asks upon her return.

You nod, a small smile coming back, “Yeah, thanks Shoko.”

“Is there something else wrong?” She asks, then shakes her head. “No, scratch that. What’s actually wrong?”

You take a deep breath. How are you going to broach this subject? You wait several moments, pondering your exact next words.

“Do you think Gojo is okay?” You finally ask your long-time friend, words coming out almost cautiously.

She eyes you funnily, “Why are you asking me? As if he doesn’t chase you around the school to blab on about himself.”

You smile, but it’s tainted by bitterness.

“Shoko…Gojo hasn’t talked to me for two months,” You admit quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on.”

She stops.

“What?”

You hate hearing the confusion in her voice. You hate the pity that soon fills her eyes.

“He seriously hasn’t,” You affirm, sighing. “I don’t know what I did, or if I did anything, or…or what. I just, I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Have you tried talking to him about it?”

You sigh. “Of course I have, but he didn’t seem to take my concerns seriously. Or consider them at all. It just seemed like he wanted me to shut up and leave him alone.”

Shoko looks at you curiously, lips quirking as if she has something to say, but no words come out. Is she holding something back?

You take a deep breath, willing the horrible emotion that squeezes your throat away. You look out the window to distract yourself, watching the branches of a sakura sapling swaying in the wind. It looks alone and lost, battered by the relentless wind.

“What’s he been like recently with you?” You finally ask, your gaze still on the tree.

“Normal,” Shoko says. “Annoying as ever. Noisy as ever.”

A cluster of pink petals is ripped from a branch, swirling hopelessly to the ground. When they settle on the ground, you look back to your friend.

“He’s really the same?” You ask weakly.

“Unfortunately,” She says wryly. “Besides, why do you care? We’ve both been trying to get him off our backs since waaay long ago. Sounds like a blessing in disguise.”

“Ah, that’s true,” You admit with a weak chuckle, trying to ignore the way your heart throbs painfully. “But he’s also our friend.”

“Since when? More like a thorn in my side. Maybe he finally got the message,” Shoko smirks. “You should give me instructions for that. I’d have a lot better quality of life, you know.”

You know she’s just joking around with you, but she’s truly just rubbing salt in your wound. Not very ethical for a doctor, even if unintentional.

“Yeah,” You laugh, but it’s an empty sound. “Well, I guess I’ll get going then. Hopefully your next patient gives you an easier time.”

Shoko jokes, “Yeah, this has been my toughest job all week. You fiend.”

Your head is filled with so many questions, all of them growing louder as you walk away from your friend. Your friend who you thought would sympathize with you, but only ended up making you feel worse in the end is acting suspicious. It’s not like you’ve ever wanted to actually cut ties with Gojo, even when he used to pull pranks on you in high school. You craved for a strong friendship with him throughout all his shenanigans.

Why is Shoko acting like you hate Gojo, and what isn’t she telling you?

Before you reach the door, you decide you need to know. You stop abruptly in your tracks.

“Ieiri, you’re not telling me something,” You say softly, not looking back. “Why?”

Shoko sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose, “You don’t miss anything, do you?”

You say nothing. The door in front of you is tempting—it’s your way out of knowing the truth. Do you really want to know?

You wait tensely for a few seconds, the silence causing nerves to bubble up in your stomach. But when Shoko begins to speak, they go don’t go away.

“He hasn’t really been acting strange around me, but he’s constantly on his phone. Like always. Whenever he comes to chat, he immediately tunes me out and starts texting or loudly takes a call,” She snorts, huffing out an exasperated sigh. “I thought he was just bored and trying to make me feel disrespected as a sort of cruel joke, but I think it’s something else. I think…I think Gojo is interested in someone.”

Your head whips around, disbelief clear in your features. Interested in someone?

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting weird. I always thought he was crazy for you, so it didn’t cross my mind until now.”

“Crazy for me?” You immediately echo back, voice hollow and confused.

Shoko shakes her head at you, “C’mon, you can’t be that oblivious. He always followed you around like a lost puppy in high school. He never said anything to me about it, but I really thought he would confess any day for years.”

“He did that to everyone…” You shake your head. “You say yourself he bugged you so much.”

She rolls her eyes. “Trust me, it was different.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Your vision becomes foggy at the edges, reality fizzling out.

“Why didn’t you want to tell me?” You ask. “It’s not like that matters.”

You try to appear uncaring, yet it was a fight to get those words out.

“You’re a sensitive person. ‘Didn’t know how you’d react since Gojo always seemed to chase after your attention, exclusively. But it’s not like it was the other way around—should have known it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not. Guess he’s just growing up.”

“Yeah,” You agree faintly, voice devoid of emotion. Reality is slipping through your numb fingers, the information turning your world into a nightmare. You should have opened the door and ran when you had the chance.

“It’s not,” You say with a saccharine smile, one so sickly sweet that Shoko gets chills. That’s not your usual smile—not one that Shoko has ever seen you wear. “Of course it’s not.”

When you turn on your heel and rush out of her infirmary, Shoko reaches out a hand and her lips part to call after you. It’s uncharacteristic for her—the cold doctor is rarely sentimental or emotionally affected, but she saw something ghastly in that smile of yours.

The slam of the door answers her call. The truth, now imparted, comes to bite her in the ass.

It’s been a few days. You’ve been moping around the school, around your students—trying to cope with the information that you don’t even know is true. You see him across campus sometimes; he’s so easily spotted with his translucent hair and tall frame. Every time, he’s facing away from you, and your eyes fall on the back of his head. Your chest always tightens and you end up turning away, too.

You have ignored the feelings stirring in your chest, not willing to admit something that clearly isn’t reciprocated. It has been working, you suppose, since you haven’t cracked under the mental weight of possibly being in lo—

No, you can’t even think that.

Everything has been as okay as it can. It’s not until you attempt to visit Shoko again to try sort out your feelings, however, that things take a turn for the worse.

Your hand is raised as you prepare to knock on the infirmary door, but you hesitate once you hear muffled voices.

“I don’t know…I didn’t expect it at all.”

That’s Gojo’s voice. That low but self-assured tone is undeniably his.

“Expect what?” Shoko asks, sounding bored.

His reply is so soft that it passes by as just a hiss of air, so quiet that you physically startle at Shoko’s loud reaction.

“No! What? I can’t believe that!” She shouts, laughter quickly following her exclamation.

You shouldn’t be listening—you hadn’t planned to eavesdrop on your two best friends, but for some reason your ear seeks out the wall, as if magnetized.

The next three words uttered still your heart.

“Utahime kissed me,” Gojo admits quietly.

You feel like you can’t breathe. Utahime, who has always despised Gojo even beyond Shoko’s extent. Utahime, who once cried into your chest after Gojo was harsh with her at an exchange event. Utahime, who always persisted that you and Gojo were into each other during high school.

Shoko’s unbelieving chuckle cuts through your thoughts.

Shoko laughs, “Oh, yeah, okay, as if I’d ever believe that.”

There’s silence. Your heart drops at the lack of response—no teasing refute, no playful faux playboy attitude.

Shoko absorbs his unusual silence, finally interpreting his words for what they are.

She gasps loudly, spluttering, “Oh my God, you’re being serious. What?! There’s no way…”

Gojo’s voice is even and deep. “I didn’t lie. She just did it out of nowhere. I didn’t even know how to react, to be honest.”

“So you just stood there?” Shoko snorts, trying to keep up her usual sarcastic persona. “God, you’re insufferable all the way around.”

“I kissed her back,” He breathes out, voice almost weak.

Another long moment of silence ensues. You hold your breath, terrified that your panicked pants will alert them of your presence.

Shoko recovers quickly this time.

“Still insufferable,” She sighs, and you can imagine her shaking her head. “So what now? You like her or something? This is so random.”

“I…I don’t know,” He admits quietly. “I never thought she’d do that, it took me by surprise. I…I think I liked it?”

Your heart shatters. You clutch a hand to your mouth, gagging yourself, forcing back the pained gasp that’s threatening to leave your lips.

“Oh, is that so?” Shoko says drily, but the usual edge to her voice is absent. You can only imagine her expression: contorted with pity and pain, desperately trying to maintain her poker face.

“Yeah,” Gojo reaffirms. “It was nice.”

There’s silence for a few seconds as Shoko takes it all in. Then, “Is she who you’ve always been calling and texting when I’m talking to you? You’re an ass for that, by the way.”

Gojo exhales out a sardonic sniff, “You’re spot on.”

Why are you still listening? You should leave. You shouldn’t be hearing this. Pain blooms in your chest, as if thorns became lodged between your ribs.

“What about (Y/N)?”

You freeze, eyes bulging out of your head.

Gojo sighs, sounding annoyed, “What do you mean?”

“I’m not dumb, Satoru. There was something going on during high school and frankly in the past few years as well. Are you going to deny it?”

He scoffs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Shoko. It was never like that.”

You feel like you’re going to be sick. You shouldn’t—there’s no possible way you’re actually in love with Gojo Satoru, is there?

Fuck. The thought you’ve been trying to avoid all this time has finally firmly inserted itself into your head.

You take off swiftly and immediately, and your footfalls are as light as you can possibly manage. If either of them knew you were here, you wouldn’t be able to handle the shame.

Gojo and Shoko are none the wiser to the immoral action that took place just beyond the door—so when Shoko is ready to clock out and opens the door, the presence of a school ID on the ground is nearly missed. She feels something strange crunch underneath her foot and steps away and glances at the foreign object.

You left in such a hurry that your ID flopped out of your pocket. It lays on the ground, your smiling face staring up at Shoko, who looks on in horror. She immediately knows that you heard everything. She quickly steps back onto your ID, concealing your identity with her foot.

With all the sight of his six eyes, Gojo somehow completely missed Shoko’s strategic maneuvers to erase traces of your presence. He whistles nonchalantly, not having a care in the world, apparently.

In contrast, Shoko’s mind is racing. Her eyes roam around the courtyard, searching for your form. She feels rooted to the spot—will she reveal you if she steps away? She almost forgets that she’s not alone.

“You looking for someone?” Gojo asks.

Shoko stiffens, but forces herself to relax and appear nonchalant. “Ah, I was just wondering if…if (Y/N) would still be around.”

Gojo frowns. “Hm. Not sure. Don’t they usually go home right after they get off?”

“Lately, they’ve been staying back to do paperwork,” She sighs. “Masamichi has really giving them too many missions…How come you don’t know that?”

“Haven’t had the chance to catch up, I guess,” Gojo says evasively, then quickly changes the subject. “Besides, aren’t you the same way? You coming or not? I’ve got better things to do.”

He waves his cell phone around playfully, a smirk widening across his features.

Shoko rolls her eyes, “Go ahead. I’m just going to wait here a bit and see if I can text them and get them over here.”

She hesitates for a second before adding, “Actually, why don’t you wait a sec? We haven’t all seen each other in a bit.”

Gojo immediately stiffens. He scratches the back of his head and says, “Ah, I’m actually sort of on a time crunch. Maybe next time.”

What a lie. Shoko thinks, eyes narrowing subconsciously. What is he up to?

As he trails off into the distance, the gears in Shoko’s head continue to turn. He always, always teleports home after work finishes. So why is he slowly walking around campus, head turning this way and that way as if searching?

And you! Why were you there? Why were you so affected? What is going on in your head—or rather, your heart?

Something strange is going on with her two friends and Shoko is determined to find out what.

next part

credit 🩷:

@kiyaedits - baby pink dividers, @sweetxmelody - cherry blossom divider

*note: taglist open!! comment to be tagged in part 2 :)

[katzu919]

okau so this idea randomly came to mind so if requests r still open may i request a one of tartaglia’s little brother whos the reader. The reader even being younger than tartaglia he could be around (18-20), he ended up falling into the abyss like tartaglia, it felt as if it was years for reader in the abyss but was maybe only a couple hours. tartaglia finds out about this and hunts down his brother and comforts him since he knows what its like in the abyss. idk if this makes sense but take ur time :) , ive seen ur page floating around for a while now and just ended up following u lmao

call of the abyss

Ajax had returned to Snezhnaya after being abroad for work. Ajax’s brother, Y/n had just turned eighteen and Ajax got to celebrate it just a few days late. Y/n and his friends went out to celebrate him finally becoming an ‘adult’.

“Oh come on!” One of his friends nudged his arm. “The night barely began!” His friends laughed. They had been hanging out in an old fort they’ve had since their younger years. The old building somehow surviving the harsh weather of Snezhnaya for multiple years.

“I promised my brother I wouldn’t stay out too late so we could hang out. And he’s rarely home and I don't want to waste this time I have with him.” He replied as I stood up from the wood plank he was sitting on.

“It’s fine man, we get it.” His other friend replied. They sat higher up, looking down on Y/n. “You good to walk home by yourself? I think we’re going to stay out.” Y/n nodded his head and crossed his arms, and annoyed look crossed his face.

“Yes I can. I’ve walked the path many times, I don’t even live far.” He huffed as he made his way out of the fort. His friends laughed at his reply as he slowly made his way towards his home.

The snow crunching beneath his feet as the wind started to pick up a bit. Y/n groaned as he pulled his coat tighter to himself. Snow started to blow up around him making it hard to see anything but a few feet in front of him. His breath started to fasten as panic set in a bit. How did the weather change so drastically so quickly? The wind pushed him around as his surroundings started to become less familiar. Did he get turned around? He swore he never changed the direction he was walking in. Did the wind slowly push him in another direction? His breath started to become more panicked but before he could take another step the floor fell beneath his feet. All at once he was falling into darkness, the wind and snow no longer anywhere to be seen or heard.

Absolutely silent.

When Y/n stopped falling he hit the ground with a groan. He didn’t know how long he was falling or even how he survived the fall. He slowly got up, his hands shaking a bit as he slowly took in his surroundings. Blue and purple surrounded him, stars littered the dark sky above him. Where was he and how was he going to get out? The hairs on the back of Y/n’s neck rose as he heard the faint sound of something making its way over. He quickly stood up, his legs and arms shook as he did so. He pushed through as he slowly ran away from whatever seemed to make its way over, not too keen on meeting the inhabitants of this strange land.

-

Y/n wasn’t sure how much time passed since he fell down here. Time seemed to move differently than it did back in Snezhnaya. Was he even in Teyvat anymore? He didn’t know. It felt like months he’s been here but his body didn’t seem to reflect that. He hadn’t felt hungry, thirsty, or tired since he fell, however long ago that was now.

The creatures that roamed this land were much different from the ones he saw up in Snezhnaya. They could use the elements without visions, or at least he didn’t think they had any. He never stayed around long or close enough to see any so as far as he was concerned they didn’t. He was determined to stay undetected as long as he could, not sure how long it would be before he could make it back to Snezhnaya, or if he even could. But sadly his presence was eventually found by the creatures and beings from this place. He ran and ran, seeking a place to hide and wait for them to stop searching for him. Y/n was even more cautious now, looking over his shoulder constantly. Scared what would happen if they happened to get their hands on him.

Oh god, his family. How long has it been? Did they think he was dead? lost to the snow, frozen somewhere? Attacked by some creature? His heart ached at the thought of what his family must be going through.

Y/n slowly curled up, trying to silent his sobs. He just wanted to go home. And as if Celestia heard his wish, he felt the cold wind of Snezhnaya blow against his back. Snow falling onto his head. He lifted his head, his tired eyes open to see the white snow that covered the land. A sob broke through him as he quickly got up but quickly froze when he heard the sound of snow crunching under someone’s feet.

-

Y/n was supposed to be home hours ago. Ajax looked at the clock, a pit formed in his stomach. Something was off. He got up from where he was sitting in the living room and walked to the front door. He grabbed his coat and left the house silently, not wanting to disturb his sleeping family.

The air was quiet as he made his way towards where Y/n was supposed to be with his friends. The farther Ajax walked, the pit in his stomach grew deeper. Something about the air seemed off. Seemed to set off warning bells in his head.

The abyss. It all came rushing back. Ajax hurried his steps, hoping what he feared was not true. That you were safe and sound. Just as his panic started to grow more, he saw a figure sitting in the snow. The familiar figure stopped all the thoughts in his head as he stopped and stared. He hesitated for just a moment before he started to rush in his brother’s direction.

Y/n flinched when Ajax got close, his heart breaking. The fear in his brother's eyes as they might. Ajax stopped in his tracks, his heart felt like it broke into a million pieces. Ajax slowly kneeled down and opened his arms, his brother only hesitating for a moment before throwing himself at Ajax. Y/n craved the touch of someone after being alone for so long. He sobbed into Ajax should as he shushed him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. I got you.” Ajax whispered into his brother's hair. Anger started to form in Ajax. Why did his brother have to go through this? What did he do to deserve falling into the abyss?

Ajax slowly stood up with his brother in his arms. Carry him like he did when Y/n was just a baby. He rubbed Y/n’s back in soothing motions as he slowly started to walk home.

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this.” Ajax whispered to him as they walked away from the pit in the ground, oozing with an evil that Ajax hated with all his heart.

Hello! I kinda forgot how to write while writing this… hope it’s not noticeable. I’m also trying to like my writing style and be happy with it and not just quitting when i’m not instantly in love with it :p. i also write this in one sitting… anywhooo i also set up a ko-fi but do not feel like you have to send anything!! my writing is completely free and for fun (as much fun as trying to write with writers block is). Im not to sure how the abyss works even after reading through the wiki so i probably got something wrong but who cares and im also behind in the main story quest…. i’m not actually sure if people reads these notes but sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

[tmntxthings]

Hey, I hope this request motivates you a bit! I was wondering if you could do little scenarios with the Rise boys reacting to accidentally hitting their S/O while they stretched?

You know that thing that happens when you're standing too close to someone and they move or do something and end up hitting you in the face, it happened to me at college sobs 😭

Have a lovely day! <3

一∑ Accidents Happen・゜・。

author’s note: sksksks sure sure, I wanna say this has happened to me too but I can’t recall a specific scenario which makes me think it has happened just I’ve obliterated it from my memory out of embarrassment?!?

note 2.0: so I did Raph’s first, forever ago and a bit of Leo’s then just now I did Donnie’s and Mikey’s, everyone’s is a bit different and it’s like 3am idk how to feel! BUT WE POST ANYWAYS

warnings: cursing, injuries caused by accident, attempts at humor, crack, fluff, unedited

—————————————————————————

Raph was super excited to help you learn self-defense! It was a great skill to have. Just in case ya know! Plus it would make you feel more confident too.

“First things first! We gotta loosen up, I usually start with arm stretches.” Raph said with a toothy grin. He couldn’t stop smiling. He loved being able to hang out with you, but you had asked him personally to train you for self defense. Not any of his brothers! He was honored and didn’t want to mess up!

Raph then grabbed his left elbow and started to pull it, making the muscles there taunt. You immediately started to copy him. Asking if your form was right which had Raph moving closer and correcting you just slightly. “Just like that! Now other side!” And when Raph went through with the motion of doing his other arm, it was too late.

The smack resounded throughout the weight room and if things couldn’t be anymore horrible, because of his stature, he had quite literally smacked your face.

Stunned you held your cheek. It stung. And Raph was a ball of tears instantly. “Oh— Y/n!!!! Are you okay??? I’m so sorry!!! I didn’t mean to, I should’ve backed up!! I got too close and— Raph’s so so sorry.” He was on his knees in front of you. Telling you to smack his face in return. And you just laughed, saying that it was okay.

“Once I learn these self defense moves you won’t be able to land a hit like that again!” You joked.

Raph could only whimper. He felt horrible. He was a horrible teacher! And it took some convincing from you to get the ball rolling again. He sniffled here and there because he just couldn’t get it out of his mind. He was hard on himself for sure. Even though it was an accident he wouldn’t forgive himself!!

Leo was prone to doing weird shit randomly. Like striking a pose anywhere, anytime he saw fit. So while sure I could totally come up with a prompt for stretching like I did with Raph…but in my head…more realistically… it would be because Leo was up to his regular shenanigans again!

He had texted you not that long ago that he was planning on portal-ing over! It was a common occurrence, it made for traveling back and forth to the lair fast. If only the side effects wouldn’t hit you like that one ride at the fair, the Spaceship 9000?? The one that spins, and spins, and spins so fast that the piece of metal your buckled into moves up and down??? Right?? I’ve only went on it once so this is like a very bad descriptor but hopefully someone knows what the heck I’m talking about.

Going through a Leo portal was like that. The feeling of getting spun around so much that your stomach didn’t feel like it was in your body anymore. More like it was splattered all over the ground. Or three miles back in the direction from which you came. You wondered absentmindedly if all portals were like that. Or if that was just because of Leo?

Anyhow, it had been a while since he had sent you that message. You were used to him coming instantly after sending the message. Really not even giving you enough time to read the damn text! You sighed and got up from your bed and headed to the living room where he would be portal-ing in. But instead of going to the couch, you wanted to try and guess where the fool would land. Maybe closer to the actual door, as if he had used it to begin with?

It was while you were thinking, that a blue portal opened above head not but mere inches to the left of you. There had been no whirring or whizzing noises. No “Geronimo!!” Or “Heads up!” call outs. It was ninja silent stealth mode at which Leo came in. Eyes closed, and once he was through, only then did he holler, “And he sticks the landi—“

A loud thwack could be heard as one of his hands collided into you as he did a ridiculous windmill motion with his arms to steady himself. And it hurt like hell where he had slapped your arm. “Shiiiiiiiiiiiittttt!” The force had knocked you a little ways away too! As you held your arm where it stung and closed your eyes to not start crying, and then your mouth to not start yelling.

“Y/n???” Leo opened his eyes and shook the hand that had hit your arm. “My bad! You’re usually in your room when I come, and I just— I don’t know!” He rambled, a nervous smile on his face as he watched you close up.

Silence. Breathing. That was all that could be heard. Leo started feeling really guilty. He hadn’t been holding back his strength because he was an idiot and didn’t know you were there. “I’m really sorry..” he murmured. Not coming in close because he didn’t want to anger you further.

“It’s..cool!” You shook your arm, eyes opening and god damn it they were watery. “Oh no it’s not. Let me get you some ice. Fuck. I’m really really sorry.” Leo springs into action at the sight of your unshed tears. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.” You tried to console him but didn’t deny the need for ice. Relief was felt when the ice pack met your skin. “Still wanna come over?” He asked timidly, wondering if he had ruined today in general too. “Duh, I’m going to be fine Leo! How about we stop for ice cream, on you and then it’s all even mkay?”

Because you knew if you didn’t say this then he would just continue to hold onto the guilt despite all your words and reassurances. “One waffle cone coming up!!” Leo cheered, his dramatics back on as he twirled a sword to make another flashy portal, you could only hope you would survive the journey.

Donnie has a stick. “Technically Y/n, it’s a bo. Bo staff. Not a stick.” Your eyes narrowed in on his weapon of choice. “Looks like a metal stick to me.” You told him plainly. He huffed. He knew that his weapon wasn’t always the one to wow people away. It wasn’t flashy like some people *cough* *cough* leo *cough*. “Okay I lied, it’s not just a bo, it’s a tech bo!” Donnie emphasized, spinning the said weapon around between his fingers before making it land on the ground vertically. Before you could question further he clicked a very inconspicuous spot on the bo, which was basically a finger-print reader that took half a millisecond to expand out and show off a variety of other weapons attached to his bo.

A saw, a drill, and the list could go on but those were the main two you recognized before it contracted back into stick form as you liked to call it. “Nice,” you nodded, giving Donnie his props where they were due, because it was pretty cool. It was like a multi-tool. You said that aloud too.

“Yeah but way better cause I made it.” Donnie amended because he couldn’t allow himself to be compared to such everyday items. He was better. Much better.

You opened your palm out, “can I try?” Insinuating you wanted a go at holding his stick. Well, his tech bo. But he made you spell it out for him. “Try what exactly?” He asked, right eyebrow raising. “Holding the stick” “It’s not a stick.” “Okay okay, can I try to hold the tech stick?” “Maybe, if you say it properly and also realize that you are most definitely going to hurt yourself with my tech bo.”

You made a face at that. “I most certainly am not!” You retorted and made a grab for the tEcH bO. It was out of your reach before you could even get close. And this game of keep away continued until you, asked with a “pretty please can I hold your almighty tech bo!?” Donnie was satisfied, clearly, with a smug look on his face as he allowed you to snatch it away from his hold. Finally.

You turned it around in your hands. Making slow circles. Donnie immediately trying to coach you on a better method, “Your feet aren’t in the right position~!” He chirped happily, as if correcting you was an absolute pleasure. He continued to badger you, despite your genuine efforts to improve. And at one point it all became too much, like he was being haughty. Holding it over your head that you weren’t catching on quickly.

“I get it Donnie! I suck!” You yelled and brought the metal bo down sharply. Right on your toes. You did have socks on. But the thin material did nothing to prevent the instant pain that had you crumpling down, bo falling out of your hand to instead cradle your injured foot.

It was embarrassing. The loud clatter of the bo hitting the ground, the rush of Donnie coming in close, kneeling to try and analyze the damage. You were so angry and so embarrassed that despite the pain, you pushed him away. Sniffling and whimpering, “Leave me alone!” You cried. And yep you were crying. Rocking back and forth now on your butt in an attempt to somehow ease the pain that was flowing from your toes, through your foot, all the way up to your ankle. Had you broken something?!?

Of course you hadn’t pushed him far, nor hard enough to knock him down. But he felt horrible. He felt like he was the reason this had all happened in the first place. Egging you on and messing with your head, truly being a bit of a jerk. “Just let me look please? It may be broken Y/n, it’s..high grade titanium…” he muttered the last bit because he was in no way trying to show that off in this moment. And the look in your eyes when you finally met his concerned stare was heartbreaking. He saw how red and puffy they were from the agitated tears, your cheeks ruddy as well. “Please?” He tried again. Coming in close hands up and out as a show of meaning no harm.

Slowly, your hand came away from your own toes, and Donnie peeled off your sock and assessed the injury. Light touches here and there and profusely apologized when you hissed in pain. “It’s not broken! Just bruised, pretty badly, I’ll go get some ice and then some wraps, just stay right there, don’t move!” And he was off moving swiftly as went in search for the items he required.

He gave you the ice, letting you decide how much pressure to put on the wound, and he stayed silent as he got out a few different wraps. As your tears dried and the sniffling ceased, you noticed how serious Donnie looked. When he came back down to kneel by your foot, he decided to checkup the entire area. “What about this, does this hurt?” He asked pressing lightly on a different part on the top of your foot. “Not really, it’s all getting kind of numb now,” the ice was doing its magic. He nodded, chewing on his lower lip. “I think I should wrap it now,” he said but made no move to start until you gave him the go ahead.

He was very careful. Taking all the time in the world to make sure the wrapping was perfect. When he finished he sighed, and looked up at you sincerely, “I’m sorry for being such an ass… you were doing really well but I just kept..” he sighed again shaking his head as it dropped. Looking back down at your wrapped foot. “Dee.. we like to get in each other’s nerves, you just did a really great job this time around,” you admitted with a slight laugh. But he only smiled weakly, still feeling so guilty. You huffed and shoved at his shoulder lightly, “hey, honestly I think it was your bo getting back at me for calling it a stick so many times!”

He couldn’t help but smile at that one. If only a little. “How about this? You grovel for the rest of the day, andddd order my favorite pizza?” He was quiet, thinking. “How about I just get the pizza?” Finally looking up and looking a bit better, “I don’t knowwww…” and the two of you were going back and forth once more, laughing it off.

Mikey, bless his heart, was having a fabulous time when it came to your yoga sessions. You had gotten into it and dragged the brothers into your new hobby. But the only brother who truly stuck with it was Mikey. Of course this should’ve been a no brainer, what with his acrobatic skills when it came to soaring into the air, from building to building.

So it wasn’t odd that the two of you were together in the gym alone at the lair. Sometimes he’d come over to your flat and the two of you would yoga in the only big room you had (the living room). But most times it was more convenient to do it in a space that was created with exercise in mind. After getting nice and warmed up, talking about each others day and updating one another on any tea it was time to get down to business.

“What’s on the roster today??” Mikey asked already bouncing lightly back and forth. Pumped to do anything when it came to hanging out with you. “Ahhh let’s see!” All the gossip had left your brain clueless to the new yoga you had learned recently so you needed to open up your phone and check your notes really quickly.

Mikey (ever the busybody) came in close, going up on his tippy toes to peer at your screen. Your elbow went out playfully, hitting him in the side plastron. He feigned injury, staggering back clutching where you had touched. “Betrayal!” He fake coughed. “And I thought Leo was the dramatic one!” You teased further.

At this both hands moved to cover his heart. “Take that back!!” He gasped though he could hardly hide his pleased smile. “And if I don’t??” You countered, forgetting about the phone as the screen turned black under inactivity. “Then I’ll make you!” Mikey’s face turned downright villainous (as much as a cutie patootie can), hands up and fingers at the ready to tickle you into submission.

Immediately you were fleeing. You were no stranger to Mikey’s tickling in fact the last time you had been caught in his clutches you were begging for mercy. You almost gave in right then and there at the memory but you couldn’t help but think that maybe this time you could get away.

Fool. What a foolish thought.

You were a yoga hobbyist. Mikey was a fucking ninja! The odds would never be in your favor, but he did let you think you had a chance. Letting you run around in their home gym, getting by with barely a fingertips distance away. You were breathless by the time he caught you which only worsened when he started tickling at your sides and neck.

He had you trapped, he was on top of you, between your legs, hands moving fast and causing you to laugh out of control. Almost as if it had a mind of its own, your leg jumped out and tried to slam into Mikey’s side to free yourself from further torture. But he had actually bent down lower making the trajectory straight for his head. It must’ve been ninja instincts because he caught your leg easily in a tight grasp.

“Mercy!” You called out breathlessly. To which he clicked his tongue, letting go of your leg to go back to tickling. That obviously hadn’t been what he wanted to hear. “Okay okay! I take it back!” You pleaded, batting away his hands quickly. To which he continued to try and get past until he moved way too fast for you, smacking your chin accidentally when he had been aiming to just tickle your neck.

Time force. As the sound resounded, with your punctuating “Ow!” Mikey froze. Hands still, pupils shaking as it replayed in his mind. He had hit you. Accidentally of course. But. He had hit you. You were still in pain, recovering from the shock and rubbing your sore chin. While he was receding into his shell, his hands moving back into himself as he apologized. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to! I don’t know what, it was just so fast, I’m sorry!!” He was blubbering, by the time you opened your eyes to see how much this had hurt him too.

“Angie! I know! Hey, we were just roughhousing! It got out of hand, it’s okay! I know you didn’t mean it. It was an accident!” And he clung to that word. “It really was an accident. An accident. I’m so sorry. What should I do? Lemme see!” His hands moved suddenly to touch your chin but it was like the sight of his own hands getting close to you made him fearful. He retracted once more, squeezing them into fists and putting them to his chest as he moved to get off of you. To give you space.

“Mikey!” You chastised, getting up and following after him. You grabbed his hands, holding them. “Hey hey, it’s okay! Look I’m not afraid of them and neither should you. It was an accident Mikey, plus I’m already feeling better.” Slowly his fists unfurled and you brought his hands up to your face, positioning them to cup your face. He looked up, with a watery smile. “I’m really sorry,” he said one more time. “I know,” you smiled down at him. “It’s okay!” You made sure to say. And he nodded, relaxing a bit as a shaky breath went through his body before his hands held onto you more securely. Rubbing his fingers back and forth soothingly.

Then he moved back, only to jump and tackle you into a crushing hug. “Yoga?” He asked while digging his head into your neck. “Yoga!” You agreed, and he held onto you like a monkey for a bit before clambering off to return to his mat. “Alright alright, position number one!”

[samandcolbyownme]

Idk if you do requests anymore but if you do can you please do one where Jake locks Johnnie and the reader in the closet then turns into smut??

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, small party, spin the bottle, reader kisses Tara (just a peck), kissing, choking, oral (m rec), unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 1.9k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

You don’t know how Jake roped all of you into doing this, but here you were.

All of you sitting in a circle with an empty bottle sitting on its side in the center.

“Alright, we’ll keep it simple for this round.” Jake says, “You spin and who ever it lands on just a quick peck, lips or cheek.”

Jake sits down and leans forward, “I’ll go first, cause, ya know, I am the greatest host in history, as they say.”

“No one says that.” Johnnie looks at him, not cracking a smile and everything laughs. Jake huffs, “Why do you have to ruin everything for me, dude?”

Johnnie shakes his head, glancing up at you and you give him a smile.

There wasn’t many people there, mainly just your close friends, so kissing them really wouldn’t be weird, especially for a game.

Jake spins and it lands on himself.

“Now what kind of fucking luck is that?” You laugh, “That’s not fair, spin again.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “Again, I can’t have anything.”

He spins the bottle and it lands on Johnnie, “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

Johnnie brushes his hair out of his face and taps his cheek, “Right here, Jakey.” Jake groans and leans in, pressing his lips to Johnnie’s cheek.

The group laughs and Johnnie wipes it off, “That was actually so gross.” He sighs as he reaches for the bottle, spinning it to land on Tara.

You couldn’t lie, you were a little bit jealous, but once you seen Johnnie move over to peck her cheek, you were good.

Tara spins and it lands on you. She smiles and looks at you, “Where ya want it baby?” You laugh and pucker your lips. She moves over and pecks your lips, leaving everyone speechless.

“What?” You raise your brows, “Have you never seen two girls kiss before?”

“Not two as hot as you guys.” Jake scoffs, “Fuck. Okay. New rules, you spin the bottle and it’s ten minutes in heaven.”

“Jake.” Tara laughs, “Why the sudden rule change?”

“That’s not a rule change, if I wanted to change the rules I’d say that anytime it lands on you and Tara, everyone has to watch you make out.”

“That’s you changing the rules, isn’t it?” You tilt your head and Jake laughs with a nod, “Fuck yeah..”

You spin the bottle and it lands on Johnnie. You can seen him take a deep breath, same as you and Jake claps his hands together, “Follow me ladies.”

You stand up, your eyes on Johnnie as he stands up.

You follow Jake to the closet and he flicks the light on, “Enjoy.” He motions to the inside and you walk in first, followed by Johnnie.

Jake shuts the door before either of you can say anything, but neither of you really want to.

You hear the flick of the lock click and you furrow your brows, “Does this door have a lock?” You wiggle the knob and push, but nothing happens, “Jake!”

“Sorry, can’t hear you over the door between us.”

You hit the door and turn around, “since when do closets have locks?”

Johnnie shrugs, “I didn’t even know this one had a lock to be honest.”

You laugh slightly and walk over, “So..”

“So..” he scratched the back of his head and sighs, “We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.”

You bite your lip, “What if I do?” You tilt your head, licking your lips as you watch him smirk, “I, um. I’m going to be honest, I didn’t expect you to want to.”

“J, if I’m locked in a closet with anyone. I’m glad it’s you.” You reach out, watching as he lays his hand in yours and you pull him over to you.

His hand lays next to your head on the wall and he licks his lips, “You sure?”

You nod and that’s all the confirmation he needed.

He dips his head in and your lips connect with his. Your hands slide up to his neck and his hand moves to your waist, pulling you into him.

The make out gets hot and heavy fast.

He lifts you up, holding you against the wall as his lips trail down your neck.

The only sound coming from the two of you is the sound of kissing and a few small moans when Johnnie grinds up against you.

“Jake better not open that door.” Johnnie mumbles and you nod, “I agree.”

He sets you down and you undo his belt, “is this okay?” You ask in between kisses, and he nods, “Y-yeah.” He gasps slightly as you palm him through his boxers, “Fuck, yeah.”

You were so into what you were doing, you didn’t hear Jake knock the first time.

After another few minutes, multiple people pounded on the door, causing both you and Johnnie to jump and he quickly scrambled to fix his pants.

Just as Jake opened the door, you both froze, standing there staring at him.

“Can we help you?” Johnnie asks and Jake smirks, “And just what were you two doing? Hmm.”

“Nothing.” You both answer, which is insanely suspicious the more you think about it. Jake laughs and rolls his eyes, “Uh huh. Maybe I should have.. forgot, about you guys.”

He walks away and Johnnie turns to you, “Come find me after the party.”

You nod and follow him out, trying to act like you weren’t just about to completely jump his bones in there.

A few more hours of the party and being teased by Jake later, you managed to sneak into Johnnie’s room.

You could tell he was doing a late night stream, but the ended as soon as you closed the door behind you.

“Alright guys, I know I wasn’t on for long, but I’m gonna go. I’ll get on tomorrow, I promise.” He blows kisses to the screen, “Thank you, I love you.”

He ends the steam and takes off his headphones, setting them down before reaching out to you, “Hi.”

You walk over, sitting on his lap, “Hey.” You smile and lean in, pressing your lips to his, and that same heat returns.

Johnnie’s hands squeeze your hips and you stand up, keeping your lips to his as he stands up and you make it to the bed.

You push him back, getting him to lay down before you crawl up and straddle him.

His hands move to take off your shirt, and the kissing resumes.

You grind down onto him, moaning into his mouth as his hands push your hips down more, “Fuck,” he groans, “I need you.”

You nod, moving off of him to take your clothes off while he strips down to match you. You look up at him, and he watches as you lean down, licking up from the base of his cock to the tip.

He gasps as his head falls back, “Fuck.”

You wrap your lips around the tip, sucking and flicking your tongue before taking more of him in. He bucks his hips upwards, moaning as your tongue swirls around him.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He looks down at you, lips parted as he watches you bob your head steadily, “F-fuck, fuck.”

He shakes his head, pulling you off of him, “I want to get you off before you get me off.” He smirks and pulls you down to kiss him as you straddle him.

You reach down, looking down to watch yourself sink down into his cock.

Your hands press flat on his chest, your nails digging in as you slowly raise up and down. His hands hold into yours hips, panting as he guides you to move.

“Feels so good, J.” You moan, “So fucking good.”

He nods, head tilting back, “Fuck, so good, baby.” He reaches up to brush hair from your face, “Look at me.”

You look down at him, hips bouncing against him as you bite your lip.

“Fucking beautiful.” His hand slides to your cheek, and you slide it to your neck. He bites his lip, smirking as he squeezes, “Fuck.”

You smile as he squeezes tighter and he shakes his head, “Come here you freak.” He rolls over, kissing up your chest and neck, “You’re so hot.”

You laugh lightly, “You have no idea, baby.”

“I want to.” He whispers in your ear and you smirk, moaning out as your legs tighten around his waist, “Fuck, J, right there.”

He bites and sucks a mark into your neck, groaning lowly as you squeeze your walls around his cock, “You gonna cum for me?”

You nod, whimpering as you press your lips to his, “Y-yes.”

You back arches, chest pressing against Johnnie’s, “F-fuck, fuck.” You tilt your head back, whining out as you come undone within his hold.

“That’s it, baby.” Johnnie peppers kisses all over your face, “You feel so good, baby.”

You pull him in, making out with him as he guides you through his high.

“Shit.” Johnnie presses his forehead against yours, sliding his hand over to grab onto yours. You tightly grip his hand, using your other one to guide his free hand to your neck.

He holds himself with his forearm, his hand holding yours while the other one tightens, earning a squeaked moan from your lips.

Your eyes roll back and your body jolts with each one of his thrusts. Your one leg falls, your knee resting up against his hip, “F-fuck.” You whimper out, “yes, yes.”

Johnnie kisses up your cheek, whispering as he lets his grip loosen on your neck, “Where should I cum?”

You moan at his words, “I’ll get on my knees for you.”

“Fuck.” He gasps, “okay, baby.”

He kisses your lips, moaning into your mouth as his thrusts start to grow sloppy. He pulls out and you roll off the bed, getting down onto the floor.

You rise up on your knees, reaching out for him as he moves to sit on the edge of the bed. You move between his knees, hand gripping his cock and pumping a few times before your lips wrap around him.

He moans, his hand laying on the back of your head as you work his cock in and out of your mouth.

“F-fuck.” He pants, “Th- shit.”

You close your eyes, pushing your head fully down on him, slightly gagging around him as he hits your throat.

“Goddamn.” He moans, lacing his fingers through your hair and gripping tight. You moan at the feeling, lifting your head up to bob your head.

You feel his cock twitch and taste his cum as it rolls down your tongue and into your throat. You slowly bob a few more times, swallowing as you lift your head up away from him.

You glance up at him and he smirks, chest rising and falling quickly, “fuck.” He reaches out, gently pinching your chin, “You’re so good at that.”

You smirk, giving him a slight shrug, “I try my best.”

He chuckles and stands up, walking over to get you a shirt, “Here.”

“What’s this for?” You say catching it. He smiles and walks back over, “Figured you were staying the night.”

You smile and shrug, “Yeah, I guess I can.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I wrote this when Johnnie was leading in the poll I posted, but I see Colby is now in the lead so be on the lookout for that. I love you all, thank you so much for reading! 🖤 catch you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[itsasilentreader]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ― 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Sebastian Sallow x F!Slytherin!reader

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: fluff, just a little bit of angst sprinkled in here

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.4K — 23 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: alcohol/drug consumption, suggestive dialogue, maybe some curse words? idk anymore

Characters are aged up, 18+.

𝘼/𝙉: Use of Y/N, there are some descriptions about the outfit of the reader but if you want to imagine a different outfit, please do! I tried to write a reader who is more self-assured in her relationship because I like to read that once in a while. Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore all the grammatical errors in this one. I’m still editing and learning how to write dialogue so please bear with me!

⤷ 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘚𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘚𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

It was finally Friday night and as per usual, one of the houses was throwing a party. As it was agreed to rotate every week, it was now time for Slytherin to host again.

You got ready with Natty and Imelda in the dorm room you shared with Imelda. As you were still deciding on an outfit and trying different pieces of clothing on, Poppy entered your room, out of breath. “Sorry, I know I’m late and I see you are almost ready. But I have a good enough reason to be late.” Imelda rolled her eyes, before focusing back on her make-up. Poppy gave her a light (friendly) shove as she walked past her towards your bed. “Oh stop that, will you.”

She set down her make-up bag and clothing before turning towards you. “Okay first of all, if you’re going with that green top you should wear that black skirt you got last month.” You looked at her through the mirror and nodded to her. “I guess you’re right, let me change into a skirt.” You turned towards your closet. Poppy nods and sits down. “Okay, the reason why I’m late is because I overheard Violet on my way here.”

This causes all three heads to turn towards Poppy. Imelda had eyeliner on only one eye as she stared at Poppy to continue. “If it caused you to be 20 minutes late, this should be something interesting,” Natty spoke up from the floor next to your bed, her eyes fixed on the mirror while doing her hair.

“It is,” Poppy nodded, “Okay, so you know how obsessed Violet is with Sebastian?” You scoff and give her a pointed look. “Even Ominis can see that and that kid is blind.” You turn your attention back to your closet and continue to look for the black skirt you want to try on with the top. Poppy rolls her eyes at your comment.

“Anyways, she said she is so sure she can get him into her bed by the end of the night. Seems like she really wants to make her move on him tonight.” This causes the girls to stop their movements and stare at Poppy. Imelda closes the cap on her eyeliner pen and speaks up, “So… she really doesn’t know Sebastian is in a committed relationship and head over heels for our lovely Y/N here?”

“Well, she did mention it is always difficult to talk to him because he is always with Y/N. Even went as far as to say that she doesn’t understand why he puts up with you” Poppy replied, the last part directed towards you. “That little-” you huff out when you turn around, skirt in hand. Changing into the skirt, and sighing when you think over the words Poppy just said. “I mean, we didn’t come out as a couple you know, so I’m not surprised she doesn’t actually know we’re together. And it is not like we act differently around each other now we are together. Besides, everyone already assumed we were.”

You smooth out the skirt and hum in approval of your outfit. “Yeah, everyone but Violet”. Natty says. “She even admits it is hard to talk to him because he’s always with you. Besides the point that he is your boyfriend, doesn’t she know he is not interested in her?” she continues, “Even before you came to Hogwarts in our fifth year, he always tried to avoid her at all costs. She is so overbearing.”

You sigh and walk over to your bed after approving your outfit. “Knowing Violet she probably wants to do it publicly so I would know she claimed him.” You sit down next to Poppy on your bed and start putting on your make-up. “Everything we do is a competition in her head, so this would be the same.” Poppy shifts on the bed and turns to you. “We all know Sebastian only has eyes for you, you don’t need to worry about that.” She smiles softly at you as she opens her make-up bag to quickly get ready.

“I know, I’m just a little worried about how far Violet will go.” Natty looks up to you from her seat on the floor. “You know we will hex her if she does something out of line”, you snort at her comment. “Imelda is just dying to do it for you, you know.” Natty says while Imelda smirks proudly.

“Okay enough about that ugly shade of purple,” you turn your attention to Poppy. “Are you finally making your move on Garreth tonight?” Poppy gasped lightly and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” only the blush spreading on her cheeks is telling you otherwise. “He asked if you were coming tonight” You looked into your hand mirror and applied your eyeshadow. “He did?” Poppy squeaked out. Clearing her throat she asked again, “He did?” Imelda locks eyes with you and smirks as you try to contain your laughter.

“Sooo…” She drags out, “I guess Y/N isn’t the only one going back to the dorms with someone tonight”. Poppy glared at her and scoffed. “Just let us know how it was in the morning, I am kinda curious about his dick,” Imelda commented nonchalantly. This causes you and Natty to bark out a laugh while Poppy stutters over her words. “Imelda, you’re gay.” Imelda barks out a laugh, before replying, “So? I might munch muff but I still acknowledge Garreth is easy on the eyes.” Poppy just huffs and focuses on her make-up. She mumbles something under her breath but Imelda drowns it out when she laughs at Poppy’s reaction again.

As you walk down to your common room, you can already feel the bass vibrating the walls. Muffled voices and music are heard down the hall and you are in desperate need of a shot, or two. You are sure Sebastian wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or jeopardize your relationship, but you still feel a bit uneasy because you know Violet will do anything to get what she wants.

As Imelda opens de door to the common room, you are met with a full house and someone sneakily pushing past you into the common room. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, as they already disappeared in the crowd.

The party is in full swing and fire whisky is flowing richly. You spot Garreth already, with some other Hufflepuff girl next to the fireplace. It seems like he already started mixing the fire whiskey and Mallowsweet. You can see Poppy’s facial expression fall when she follows your sight. It is no secret she is attracted to the red-headed Gryffindor. Poppy rolls her eyes and drags you with her to look for a bottle of fire whiskey. “I need a shot!” She yells over the music.

The other two girls follow and eventually get caught up by others and their conversations. You have yet to spot your boyfriend. While searching the room for his presence, Poppy helps you and herself to a shot of fire whiskey. After tasting the burning alcohol at the back of your throat, Poppy seems to have poured herself already a second shot. Filling up your glass, you both took another shot. Poppy seems to be in her head as she pours another one. “Okay hold on Pops, I think we should slow down on the shots after this one”. You pry the bottle out of her hands and pour yourself one last shot. “Last one,” Poppy said and downed it. “For now.” she mumbles after taking the shot.

The night went on and there is still no sign of your boyfriend. Suddenly you spot Ominis standing against the wall and walk up to him. “Have you seen Sebastian?”, you ask after you greet your friend. He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink. “He went to the bathroom a while ago, seems like he hasn’t found his way back yet.” You sigh and lean against the wall next to Ominis. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.”

“He better be,” you grumble next to your friend. “It’s just, Poppy overheard Violet and I just don’t want to see what she has planned tonight to get with Sebastian.” Ominis laughs at your comment and shakes his head. “That girl is as daft as a brush”. You chuckle at his remark and nod along, even though he can’t see it. “I know, let me know if you find him will you?” Ominis nods and lets you go on your way.

You walk back towards Poppy and see her finally talking to Garreth. It seems like they only have eyes for each other. The other Hufflepuff girl is long forgotten, as is her annoyance with Garreth from before. You watch how Poppy giggles at something Garreth says and slaps his chest. His hand comes up to hold her hand there and leans in slightly to hear her better. Her cheeks turn red when she notices Garreth leaning into her, her eyes widening a bit but her smile never falters.

You decide to search for your other friends as you walk by Violet. Her presence alone is enough to annoy you, but hearing her shrill voice greeting you makes it even more unbearable. You turn towards her and give her a fake smile as you try not to roll your eyes.

“How lovely to see you this evening, but I have noticed you’re not glued to Sebastian’s side. Did he get bored of you already?” She smirks and cocks her head slightly to the side. You scoff slightly and cross your arms. “Is there another reason you keep talking to me about Sebastian or are you just that obsessed?”. You see her eyes narrow slightly, seems like you’ve hit a nerve. “You know, I just don’t know why he keeps being friends with you. I mean, you always follow him around like a lost puppy. Is it still not obvious that he doesn’t want to be more than friends?” Her expression turns into a sympathetic one, albeit a fake one.

“And what makes you think Sebastian and I aren’t together already?” You feign innocence as you ask her the question. Curious as to what she will answer you take a step closer to the dark-haired girl. “I mean, you said it yourself earlier. We are always together, glued to each other’s sides. Who knows what goes down behind closed doors.” This causes Violet to scoff loudly. “You really think he would choose you?” she rather states instead of asking. You shrug innocently, awaiting her next move. Of course, you know for a fact that he would 100% choose you.

“I know for sure he needs someone who can challenge him, and of course, please him like he should be pleased,” Violet smirked at you. “Don’t you think?”, she taunted at you while tilting her head. Just the thought of her hands all over Sebastian made your stomach hurl, but hearing her imply that she thinks she knows how to please your boyfriend makes your blood boil. You scoff at her comment and roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you think you are the one who can do exactly that hm?”

Her eyes narrow slightly while her smirk falters at the tone of your voice. It is sharp enough to take hers down a nudge. Violet tries to hide her annoyance on her face, “We both know who he would choose when it comes down to both of us. Some are just,” Violet chooses her next words wisely, “better than others.” Shrugging her shoulders, she feigns innocence. The smirk reappears on her face.

This remark causes other students to stop their conversation and turn their attention to the altercation between the two Slytherins. Because of the small commotion that ensues, Imelda and Poppy appear next to you. Your eyebrows shot up at her comment. Before you could throw an insult at her, Imelda beats you to it. “At least Y/N doesn’t need to desperately throw herself at someone, just to get a smidge of attention.” That should knock her down a peg. Poppy just nods along with Imelda’s comment. Imelda is not one to hold her tongue, sharp as ever. It is not always celebrated but it can sure come in handy in times like these.

Her eyes narrowed again before spotting someone, be it your boyfriend, walking towards the commotion. Her sour expression disappears and a sickly sweet smile paints her lips. “ Well, well, well, speak of the devil,” her voice turning into a syrupy sweet one, replacing the ice-cold one she uses to speak with you. “Hey, handsome.” When Sebastian is close enough, her manicured hand shoots out to place it on his bicep to greet him. Slightly squeezing his bicep as she steps closer to him all while batting her eyes seductively. “This girl has no shame.” Imelda murmurs to you and Poppy.

His eyes follow her hand and frowns a little. “What is going on here? Ominis told me you girls are causing a fuss?” His head turns to you, and smirks. “What is it about?” You roll your eyes at the sound of his voice and his questions. He knows damn well that if you and Violet having a squabble, it most likely is about him. He knows how obsessed Violet is with him.

Every time there is a quidditch game, Violet tries to sit in the front row to cheer him on, next to you of course. She tries to catch his attention by cheering loudly for him, a little too loud. Always trying to be the first to greet him after the game and sitting close to him during breakfast, lunch and dinner. Whenever you two are walking together or sitting together, she tries to come between you two. She even goes as far as to persuade the professors to switch partners if she is not partnered with Sebastian. Luck is almost always on your side as most of the professors brush her off and tell her to work with the student she was originally paired with. This girl was as desperate as one could be.

Sebastian is not going to lie, it does stroke his ego. Of course, it does when he sees how you react to all the things Violet is trying to do to your boyfriend. Your little huffs of annoyance, or the way you roll your eyes when you hear her shrill voice say your boyfriend's name. He loves it when you try to keep your calm when Violet wants his attention.

Although he likes to receive the attention, he won’t act on it. His heart is set on you and you know that. Nobody can compare to you and he makes sure you know that, in every way possible. Besides, he loves how riled up you are when Violet tries to make a move on him. He loves to see how possessive you can get and claim what is yours. The sex that ensues after makes him go crazy.

“Violet thinks that if you have to choose between us two, you would definitely go for her,” You shake your head a little, before continuing. “She is sure she knows how you should be pleased.” She snaps her head from Sebastian to you. Sebastian tries to hold back his laughter after seeing how Violet stares you down. Still standing a little too close to him, he takes a step back. “Oh, do you now?” You raise your eyebrow to challenge her as if to say ‘Go on, tell him’.

There is a slight pause before she answers him, “I can show you if you want.” as Sebastian takes a step back, she tries to take one step closer to him again. Her manicured nails trailed up to his bicep again and a sultry smile on her lips. “You should see and feel what I can do with my tongue.”

Imelda and Poppy greeted this remark with a loud laugh. Soon, Sebastian joined them. You, however, hate the way she speaks to him. She is trying so damn hard. Sebastian steps away from her grip and shakes his head. “I’m sure you can make someone else happy with that, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like it when you do that.” He turns to you and takes you in his embrace. Wrapping one arm around your shoulder and giving a quick kiss on your temple. “Hi, love”.

“Besides, this one right here is the only one I would ever want. Nobody compares.” You smile softly up to Sebastian. Even though you’ve been together for quite some time now, he still gives you those butterflies. How could he not when he just said in front of everyone, in front of Violet, that you are the one for him? That nobody compares to you in his eyes?

Violet’s shocked expression makes you stifle a laugh, and then it turns sour. “What?” she asks, “You two? For how long?” She almost stomps her feet, like a small child whose toys have been taken away. This time, Garreth speaks up from behind Poppy. “Everyone with eyes and Ominis could see it, Violet. You’re just daft.” His comment, albeit a snide one, is met with chuckles from those who’ve gathered to see what the commotion is about.

At this point, her face grows red from embarrassment and before she stomps off she looks at you. It looks like she wants to say something, but decides against it. She pushes her way through the small crowd and disappears to the girl's dormitory. Her friends flocked behind her.

“Well, that was something.” Poppy speaks up next to you and turns to Garreth, “The last comment might have been a little much”. Garreth just smirked down at her and shrugged. Before he could reply, Sebastian said, “No she did deserve it. She was a little too obsessed. Told her multiple times I wasn’t interested, even before I got together with this babe.” He wiggles his eyebrows as you roll your eyes. “Hm, turning to flattery now, are we?” He gave you a soft smile and leaned in for a quick kiss. Soon, everyone around you goes back to their conversations, games and dancing.

“Where have you been the whole time? I was looking for you.” You turn in his arms to face him completely. He sighs, “I know, I’m sorry. Ominis told me you were looking for me. Caught a fourth-year sneaking into the party when I came back from the bathroom. Had to get the little git back to his dorm.” You giggle with a shake of your head. “Ruining the fun for the younger ones now too?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“You know my heart is only set on you right?” Sebastian says to you as he pulls you closer by your waist. Your chests flush against each other as he looks down in your eyes. Your hands slide up his arms and to the back of his neck. Playing with the hair on the base of his neck, he leans into your touch. “I know, and I trust you completely. It’s just girls like Violet that I don’t trust.”

Sebastian nods slightly and drops his forehead against yours. “Well, I understand that. I mean, the guys are no different.” He gives you a soft smile before his eyes flicker down to your lips. “But, you know, if you want me to show you how much I love you, I’ll be happy to do so.” His eyes glimmer with love and lust and his soft smile turns into a smirk. His hands wander from your waist down to your ass and he squeezes slightly.

This makes you gasp and giggle into his chest. You tilt your head and capture Sebastian’s lips for a quick, soft kiss. You feel him smile into the kiss and when you try to pull away, he deepens the kiss. “Room of requirement?” He asks breathlessly when you finally pull away from each other. You nod eagerly and take his hand in yours to sneak out of the party.

Sebastian definitely showed you how much he loves you and your body until the early morning. And your altercation with Violet is long forgotten as Sebastian keeps reminding you; you are the only one for him.

Please let me know what you think of this one! All the likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

[tenjikufag]

ejejsjwjwjsjejejsn I need a part 2 of pantaloons x male reader where reader eventually does end up leaving and dies or smth idk I just need da angst

(U can ignore if you want!)

Rotten

Pantalone x Male Reader

part two to Spoiled

-angst, runaway reader, Pantalone break down, physical abuse (by reader)

-thank you for the req, unfortunately you don’t die in this *sigh

“I can’t do this anymore. I told you, no more gifts, no more pampering.. just leave me alone!”

Thoughts flurried in an erratic pattern, your head felt as if was going to explode at his touch- you wanted nothing more than to shove him off of your legs, kick him down and beat him.

After all of this time, it’s become too much. It was no longer indifference and tolerance- all you felt was visceral hatred towards your ‘partner’..

“My dear.. please.. I will do better, don’t leave. Break me down if that’s what you need- just don’t leave..”

His gloves hands clutched your ankles, keeping you from moving even if it was frail and pathetic grip. The both of you knew this was inevitable, but he just loved you so much.. this wasn’t the way it was going to go- not if he had a say, but he physically cannot move himself to possibly hurt you. So he begged, like he always had.

“Get off of me. I want nothing more to do with you.”

Pantalone shook beneath you, he wasn’t a person who could cry but if he could he would be nothing but a tear stained blabbering child at your feet.

The pleas, the whining, the false promises he made.. you gripped his hair and pulled it harshly so he would look up at you.

“Let go. I’m leaving. I don’t love you anymore.”

His eyes widened in horror, still on the floor he tried to scramble up to hold you once more only to be kicked down as soon as he got close.

It continued, he tried to get close.

You got more violent.

Until he was beaten, bruised and bloodied from your heavy hands and stained boots. He laid there, curled up and gasping for air.

A pathetic display for a harbinger, really.

Scowling down at him, he still plead to you his case.

Even sitting with blood running down his face, the crimson leaking from his chapped lips, bruises under his clothing and tattered clothes now with rips and dirt on them. Glasses tossed aside and cracked.

He still begged. Begged to deaf ears, begged to someone who didn’t care, a person who would have killed him if it didn’t mean signing his own death certificate.

“I’m leaving.”

“Please! Y/n, we can fix this. I can’t be alone, you can’t leave me! I did everything for you! I gave you everything! How could you do this to me?!”

The man’s body shook, the weak body of his trembling with every word leaving his mouth.

“I’ve sacrificed too much for you to leave me! You are indebted to me you bastard! You’re mine!”

You slung a bag over your shoulder.. approaching him a final time.. it gave him a false hope of you changing your mind- he look up at you with a soft smile, holding out his hand towards you.

“I never asked for all this. You disgust me, Pantalone.”

His heart dropped, too shocked to say a word back to you.. he watched as you exited his quarters, passing by all of his guards and agents who only looked at you in fear- they had heard everything, assuming you were stronger than their harbinger.

Of course you were.

You’ve always been stronger than him.

He’s a fickle minded, arrogant, selfish, and greedy man.

But now he was alone, left without his grounding beneath him- money could never buy the love he craved.

It could never be enough for your love.

[redclercs]

— or, the one where you go back to square one.

✤ requested as part of the lavender haze event!

✤ ex! mick schumacher x fem reader, prompts used: “say you want me, and i’m yours.” + "what pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" + car sex in the rain

✤ warnings: smut, slight angst, mutual pining, mdni!! little plot, fingering (f receiving), grinding, little bit of dirty talk, car sex, idk how to write car sex bear with me lmao, protected sex, piv, hair pulling. while the actions portrayed in this writing are consensual, do not take this as an example and be smart about having sex!! 2k words (this was supposed to be a really short drabble)

visit the lavender library

It’s a make it or break it situation every time you see Mick.

Not your fault really, things with him never go the way you plan them in your head and there is no use in being angry anymore, life happens and that’s that. Your attempt at being something else with Mick had met its dead end sooner rather than later, and like a pair of fools you told each other you could go back to being friends, as if nothing had happened.

But honestly, how are you supposed to look at Mick as just your friend again? When all you can picture when you close your eyes are scratches that run down his back and the hickeys on your neck.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts like he always does when he notices that faraway stare. "Everything okay?"

Unable to hold back your eyeroll, you nod. "Just great."

Mick frowns and then shrugs, he doesn't want in-depth explanations of your feelings lately. It's not that he doesn't want to deal with them, but he doesn't know how to without making a burden out of his own.

He flashbacks constantly to the night the decision of being 'just friends' was made between the two of you. It was for the best, or so he thought and the momentary relief he'd felt when you agreed didn't compare to the anguish that followed him since your friend let it slip that you were moving on with someone else.

It's possible he's taking you straight to someone else right this second, as you're on your way to a party hosted by one of your mutual friends. He shouldn't have agreed to this, and he's been praying for something—just about anything—to get in the way, so you can't make it to your destination.

You turn the volume of the radio up, you hate the song, but you don't think you can go on with the only sound being the rain pattering outside the car.

Mick's prayers are answered when the rain starts falling so heavy, it's impossible to see further than a few meters, even the headlights of the rest of the cars are hidden through the curtain of water falling from the sky.

"Should I pull over?" he questions, albeit stupidly. It's the best course of action right now and he is in no rush to continue the journey. "It's safer."

You shrug again, feigning disinterest although your body has tensed. "Fine by me."

Mick stops in a lay-by, turning the car engine off once he's made sure he's left enough space for another vehicle that wants to park behind you. "We'll just let the rain pass for a while."

"I know," you huff, he doesn't have to narrate everything you do. It's irritating and you're not a child that needs explanations every two seconds.

"Why are you mad at me?" he questions, turning the volume down before undoing his seatbelt. "Did I do something wrong?"

Where do you start?

"We would have missed the rain if you'd gotten to my place on time," you murmur. It's the first excuse you can think of to be angry at him, although it's not the real reason.

"I said I was sorry, y/n. I had things to do other than being your chauffeur."

"Well I didn't know being 'my chauffeur' bothered you so much, I could have asked Esteban to take me instead."

"You know it's not that," Mick groans, hitting his forehead against the steering softly.

"Then what is it?" you roll your eyes again, turning in the seat to look at him. "Please, do tell."

Mick stares back at you, and the choice is made within seconds in his brain, he's telling the truth. He cannot keep pretending he's not absolutely tormented by the idea that you've met someone else. "I don't want you to move on. I don't want you to go to whoever is waiting for you at that party."

You're caught off guard, having expected something entirely different to come out of his mouth. A strangled 'what?' leaves your lips before Mick is kissing you, praying once again, that you don't reject his advance. Even if it's what he deserves.

It's a desperate kiss, sloppy and wet and better than any you've ever had with him. Because you can feel how much he has wanted it, and you have wanted it too, so, so much. But what if this is all he wants? To know he still holds this power over you to have you physically, but with no strings attached.

You cannot handle the heartbreak of not being able to have him in the way you want to. Not again.

You push him off you, firm but gentle as his lips start traveling down your jaw and to your neck. "No, Mick. Not again."

"Why not?" he whispers against the pulse on your neck, sending shivers through your body. "y/n..."

“Say you want me, and I'm yours," you sigh, as his lips still hover over your skin. "But mean it, Mick. Mean it this time."

"I want you, y/n. I never stopped wanting you," his right hand is holding your jaw and the other is in your hair, combing it behind your ear. "And I'm not saying this just to fuck you. I mean it. I miss you."

You've known Mick for enough time to have figured out the little tells he has when he's lying. And you are so relieved to find that he's not, as he takes you in with those blue eyes you've missed so much. "I miss you too," you whisper, before looking for his lips again.

One moment you're still in your seat, legs twisted in an uncomfortable position and the next you're on Mick's lap, after he's moved the seat all the way back leaving you enough space not to be pressed against the steering wheel.

His hands are on your hips and your ass, lifting the skirt you're wearing before letting it fall back down. Your hands wrap around his neck before falling to his chest. The kisses you exchange are still messy, rushed and quick. You bite his lower lip before licking it soothingly and he groans, hands pressing harder on your ass.

You can feel his fingers moving to your inside thigh slowly, ghost touches that are there one moment and gone the next. You move your hips back and forth, slowly, starting to feel Mick's growing bulge. He grunts again, pulling you down on him to create more friction.

Mick's hand finally finds its way back to your throbbing core, you're starting to get desperate because it's just not enough. No matter how much you sway your hips in circles or you press down on him, it's not enough. "Please," you whine against the shell of his ear, "Please touch me."

His index and middle finger press against the wet cloth that are your panties and he smiles into your lips. "You're so wet for me,"

You can't find a coherent answer, and he doesn't let you anyway, as he moves your panties to one side to access your hole. His index goes inside you painfully slowly, and you know he's enjoying torturing you this way. Your fingers pull on the back of his head, tugging at his hair and you're not surprised when he moans, the hand that's not on your pussy clasps the back of your neck.

The rain is still going strong around you, and yet the only sounds both of you can focus on are the ones leaving you both. Gasps and moans, grunts and whines.

"What pretty noises you're making for me… am i making you feel good?" Mick pulls your head back by the neck for you to stop hiding your face against his neck as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His thumb is drawing slow circles in your clit while he interchanges the motion of pumping you to scissoring them inside of you. "Do you want to cum?"

You nod desperately, grinding against his fingers while you still pull on his hair. "Please, Mick."

"Not with my fingers,"

You miss him immediately when he pulls his hand away, your hole clenching around nothing. But you hurry to undo his belt and zipper, you need him right now. Mick shifts in his seat, looking for the jacket in the backseat.

Your fingers wrap around his dick and you start pumping him slowly, your thumb running across his tip between movements has him moaning and bucking his hips.

"Seriously?" you pause, looking at the brand new pack of condoms he gets out of the inside pocket of his jacket.

"In my defense, Esteban asked me to buy them for him," his already reddened cheeks turn a shade or two darker, and he smiles at you. "He won't miss one."

You continue with your up and down movements while Mick opens the package and once he gets the condom out, he grabs your wrist to halt you.

Mick almost cums from the sight of you putting the condom on him, something he never thought he'd ever see again after fucking everything up.

You move your underwear to the side once again and Mick grabs your hips to lift you before letting you fall slowly on his cock. Both of you throw your heads back in pleasure and you stay like that for a moment, taking in the sensation of being as physically close as you can possibly be. Mick fills you up perfectly, and you feel so, so good around him.

Your hips rock back and forth slowly, while you maintain eye contact with him, blue eyes eating you up in awe. And he helps you lift your body and fall back on him at your own pace, he's at your mercy.

The hand that isn't steadying you goes back to your clit, caressing and pressing until he finds that right movement that makes you hold your breath before you release it in a pleasured cry. "Just like that, Mick, please."

He continues to draw circles on your clit while nipping on your neck, interrupted every now and then by his own moans of pleasure. Your pace quickens and Mick's neck strains, trying to hold his orgasm back, he wants you to reach yours first.

You smile at his distress, and move your hips faster guiding him up and down in frantic movements. And it's useless how much he tries to hold back, because when you bottom out, he groans, his release spilling inside the condom.

But you don't stop riding him, and he tries his best to keep his focus on the bundle of nerves between your legs, twisting his fingers faster and harder until you grip his shoulder and let your head fall into the crook of his neck, shaking with such pleasure you're seeing stars.

You stay like that for a few moments, while your breath goes back to normal and your body stops twitching with the remnants of your high. Mick goes soft still inside you and you support your weight on his shoulders to lift yourself off him.

The windows are foggy and the car smells of what you just did, the music is still playing in low volume and the rain refuses to stop.

Mick helps you return to the passenger seat, not without stealing another kiss from you, holding your jaw between his thumb and index.

Both of you fix your clothes in silence, one that falls heavy turning uncomfortable quickly.

"We can try again," Mick ends the silence after he's completely buckled his trousers and smoothed his shirt. "I want to try again with you y/n, I want to try until it works."

So you kiss him again, because you'll try and try, until it hurts or bleeds.

─── team principal radio: ❝to the anon who requested this, i accidentally deleted your ask because i am stupid but i hope you see this and enjoy it! let me know your thoughts y'all♡❞

✰ lavender library cardholders: @karmabyfernando

[silent-browser]

*sigh* oh the tragic romance of a merfolk x human story. Neither can be with the other without giving up something important. Usually fins for legs. Also usually their entire family to simply love and exist with this person in a different biosphere. Rarely legs for fins if we wanna go a reverse little mermaid here.

But what if it was different. And no one had to give everything up. And maybe yandere. With a bit of soulmate shenanigans thrown in for flavor.

Imagine if you will, a walk on an empty beach. Headphones in, listening to your favorite song and sining along. Kicking up sand and the smell of the ocean air. Just minding your own business and having a good time by yourself.

Or so you think. Because not far from where you are walking a single quiet audience member hides behind some rocks, wondering why your song, your human song, sounds so similar to their soul song.

The song that they would normally perform for other merfolk in hopes of attracting their perfect life partner. But they had never garnered any attention for it.

So how did you, a weak and squishy human get them so immediately. No creature had ever been so close to repeating his own soul song back to him. And with your own little twist too. Human words and slightly different notes in his soul song. Your song. Our song. He soon found himself refering to it in his mind.

It takes a while of them impatiently waiting for your return and slowly learning your 'walks on the beach' schedule for them to finally make their move.

On the day that changed the rest of your life, you were simply walking along and humming softly to your favorite song once again when you heard the most fantastic voice start to follow along the melody with you. They matched your tone and moved their voice in such a way that it felt like an instant musical connection.

They were worried that you would stop and run away when they started but tried not to let that fear taint their song. If you ran further inland they would have a very hard time following you. Not impossible but certainly difficult. So they took your continued humming as a good sign and continued.

They began to dribble their emotions into the notes. The lonelyness. The fear of an uncaring ocean. The rush of affection they felt when they first heard you singing. The need to see you. Hold you.

Slowly, what started out as a dribble became a riptide of intense emotions they never knew they were capable of feeling. Longing. Jealousy. Want and need so powerful he felt like he would wear out his voice singing it all. By the time he stopped he was mortified that he put all of that on you. And before the first courting gift too! He suddenly felt awful. He gutted his soul when he never ment to and you weren't even singing anymore. What if you didn't want them? What if it was all too much for you? What if you left and never came back!?

You were stunned. Breathless. The emotion. The raw intensity. No words were ever sang and yet the song resonated in the very depths of your being. You felt intimidated to ever even think of humming ever again after that impromptu masterpiece. You wanted to respond but couldn't find the words to, much less the notes like they had. So you instead made your way to the shore where the music seemed to come from and searched. Looking for this person who simultaneously swept you off your feet and explained their life story in one song with no words.

Two star crossed lovers. Separated by the sea. One filled with obsession. The other with curiousity. Both wish desperately to meet and yet both are not quite ready. How strange that love can both bind and seperate. How strange indeed.

Idk where to go with this so no continuations for this one unless I suddenly get inspired. Also the end feels really jarring to me. Mostly because I originally intended for this to continue but I couldn't come up with anything so I just cut it lose. I hope you like it none the less.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood (Part 34)

N blinked, looking down at his daughter with confusion, Khan did much of the same, both drones not quite knowing how to respond to the bat-like chirp Tera had given them.

Uzi froze, and her mouth hung open, several different emotions, different impulses, hiting her all at once.

Fear, that she was making her daughter weird, she knew where Tera had picked up that chirp from, her. How often was she making the sound in her sleep for Tera to be able to mimic it this closely?

She was happy, Tera was moving and making noises and was happy and healthy, these things were good, they were all good.

Then there was another part of her, something that didn't quite sound like herself, that told her something else.

This is right, this is how things should be.

Tera was now babbling, switching between normal drone toddler noises and mixture of chirps, purrs and trills, and each one sent something powerfully maternal running through her, until her tail was free and she was scooping her up, holding her head as she held the droneling close, purring loudly.

“Uh… Uzi?” N's voice sounded extremely concerned, but she wasn't looking at him, her eyelights were locked onto the droneling in her arms, there wasn't any reason for him to be worried, everything was fine, their kit was just happy, nothing was wrong.

“T-tail.” Khan muttered out under his breath, he'd known she'd had one, but he'd never seen it, she'd always kept that part of herself locked away, now that he was looking at it, it was kind of giving him a minor stroke. That was a mouth!

N only took a step closer, Uzi's tail was currently trying to wrap itself around Tera, and the toddler herself was purring into Uzi, the presence of the tail didn't seem to bother her either, locking eyes with it and giggling.

He was extraordinarily confused, both at Tera's sudden strange noises and at Uzi's reaction to them, what the heck was going on?

First the bite, now this?

He looked over at Khan and gave him a wary smile, one which Khan tried to reciprocate, although failed as he was too busy freaking the heck out.

Uzi's purring slowly dissipated, and she blinked twice before she became aware enough about what she was doing to actually look around the room. She flushed a deep violet.

What the hell was wrong with her?

Nothing.

She shook her head fiercely, trying to clear her head of the brain fog that had covered it as well as the thoughts that came with it, her grip on her daughter loosened slightly, and her eyes locked with N's.

[What's going on?]

[Idk, weirdness]

“Uh, s-sorry, I don't know what came over me!” She laughed nervously, only trying to cover up her weird response to Tera's chirping for her dad's sake, she didn't want to freak him out anymore than she already had.

If that was possible.

She handed Tera to N, which took her happily, she waved her arms at him, trying to reach his hair and hat but he was too tall and holding her too low for that.

“A-anyway! Uh thanks for the help dad! But I-we have to go now!” Uzi was near sliding N across the floor and towards the door, waving goodbye to her dad as she did.

“A-anytime?” He called out as she slammed the door behind them, taking N by the hand and dragging him silently through the hall.

She was internally panicking, this was not normal. And she was getting warmer and warmer with no signs of cooling down, the oil wasn't helping, nothing was helping.

N was watching and listening as her core sped up in her panic, taking action, he scooped her up in his other arm and speed-walked back to their apartment.

“H-hey I can!”

“You're panicking, let me carry you.”

She just nodded, cuddling in closer to his chest, her tail was still free, she'd worked herself up in too much of a frenzy to bother putting it away, it wrapped around him, like she was some weird, long tailed koala.

He kissed her forehead, and while that was normally enough to calm her down it wasn't quite enough this time, her core tightened painfully.

As soon as they got home, Uzi sprung off him running to the bathroom in a four limbed gallop, and locking the door behind her with the solver, heavy ragged pants escaped her mouth.

She looked into the mirror breifly, knowing that any more than a glance would shatter it.

Her temperature was nearly unbearable now, and now paired with an extreme tightness in her chest, her legs shook and trembled, her head hovering over the sink as if she was about to vomit.

“Uzi! What's wrong!? Why is the door locked?!” N's voice came panicked and loud from the other side of the flimsy wooden door, her breath hitched.

What are you doing? Let him in, nothing is wrong with you. You will not hurt them.

The voice was back, now louder than ever echoing inside her head as if it was the only thing there, she held her head with both of her hands.

She was going crazy! She had to be! Was she loosing control again?

She looked back up in the mirror, the solver symbol glowing brightly in her eye, shattering the mirror and sending sharp bits of glass in every direction.

Her vison grew fuzzy, the pressure in her head increased to almost unbearable levels, the internal heat was sweltering, visibly coming off her in waves.

And then… she passed out. Head cracking on the side of the counter as she went down, busting it open and letting oil run free.

Only… it wasn't black.

It was red.

N busted down the door after a minute of getting no response, shattering it with a kick so strong a bull would have been impressed.

Uzi was gone, a pool of blood in the center of the tan tile and a trail leading into the vent system on the ceiling, his eyelights hollowed.

Uzi was comfortable, in a nest, somewhere high above everything else, safe.

Her kit was in her lap, making happy chirps that assured her that she was well. She was nibbling on an arm, the oil dribbling down her chin. Uzi laughed, diligently thumbing it away, keeping her clean.

Then she yawned, stretching her wings and her tail as she waited for her partner to return from his hunting trip, he would have to be back soon, the sun was almost up.

Something landed nearby with a soft thud, right on time.

N came into view, holding a woker drone corpse between his teeth, holding it by the neck, his tail wagged when he saw them, hers did too. Their kit trilled at him, he did back, dropping the corpse at the side of the nest and stepping closer to them.

She smiled, nuzzling her head underneath his with a purr that he returned enthusiastically, chitters and mewls left her mouth, and she let her body slide against him, much like a cat, and as she left her tail followed her path, caressing his chin as she went to inspect his kill.

Or she would have, if he didn't grab her and pull her back, sending her into his lap to cuddle some more, she giggled, pulling her kit into the cuddle pile and relaxing into his chest.

This was right…

She snapped awake again, her head throbbing and vison unfocused, she… wasn't on the bathroom floor anymore.

She was in N's old nest at the spire, laying in the center of it, the cold atmosphere of Copper-9 suddenly hit her with all it's force. She got up on her hands and knees and felt the side of her head.

Already repaired, if a little tender when she touched where the gash would've been.

Her wings were free, as was her tail, and she sat on her knees as she looked around.

How had she gotten here?

Her temperature felt normal again, and the pressure in her head was gone. She sighed and looked down on herself, she looked normal, she felt like herself again.

She looked at her tail, before her eyes went hollow.

She had spines, now running all along her tail all the way to the head, they were sharp, and as she flexed her tail the spines hardened and softened, going from flat against her tail to fiercely flaring like a baseball bat covered in nails.

She felt the back of her neck, only fot her to yelp and pull her hand back, a spine stuck in her hand.

There were spines running all the way down her back all the way to her neck, although they got less numerous the closer to her head.

Holy shit

She looked at her wings and her arms and legs, nothing else seemed to have changed.

Getting an idea, she flared the spines outward and flicked her tail as fast as she could in front of her, some of the spines flung off, burying themselves into the wall of the spire.

“Holy hell!” She yelped to herself, both a little giddy and a little scared, this was useful sure, but the fact that she was continuing to change even after camp was more then a little concerning.

At least she hadn't killed anyone this time, at least… as far as she knew.

She looked out of the spire, the moon high in the sky, she wasn't sure how long she'd been out here…

She needed to get back, N was probably worried sick. And Tera would be upset as well if she had been gone awhile.

But she had no chance to begin to fly back, she heard something land above her, she smiled.

Right on time.

Next ->

[mvltisstuff]

Evan Buckley & female reader - a fic where instead of the firetruck crushing buck’s leg, it crushes the reader’s leg instead and the reader is in the firetruck when it explodes and Buck & reader have been engaged for 2 years. Buck is worried and scared and panics when he sees the reader underneath the truck. He helps her through the physical therapy of getting back her leg strength and helps her through how she is told she may not be able to be a firefighter again.

lots of angst, heartbreak, sadness, anger, fluff too 💙

love ur 911 fics so much ❤️‍🩹

are you with me - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: i’m so happy you guys like my fics, i have plenty coming your way soon 🩶 btw this started off pretty strong and idk what happened toward the end w the quality

it’s never realized how much calamity one person can cause in such a large city. people get in their cars to go to work, they order a package, they stop at the store, and the last thing they expect is an explosion right at their feet.

over three million people in los angeles, and one forced 30 tons of weight onto y/n’s leg. it was just work. something she does every single day. of course, nothing in life ever remains the same, but this is really something you can never expect. you watch it in movies, or you hear about it in the news, only until it happens to you.

she knew the bones in her leg were crushed upon the impact, the engine thrown on its side. buck watched from a distance, being held back by the police. he would do anything for her. he wanted to tear this kid to shreds. he saw y/n’s broken leg under the truck and her head weakly lifting up. he could almost hear the pained gasps and whimpers from her lips. y/n, on the other hand, felt like she was in the center of the ring, the joke of this kid.

all the bystanders watched the scene unfold, the boy trying to summon the captain of the 118. it felt unreal. the noise and the truck shaking the ground they walked on.

buck thought he hallucinated the sparkling ring on y/n’s hand, somehow managing to remind him of the fight he was about to do. he vividly remembers the day he got down on his knee, bargaining the rest of his life to her and crying when she said yes. the whole team had been there, watching from a distance as her hand covered her mouth and lifted him from the floor. their wedding was being planned, every last detail needing to be perfect for the couple.

most people’s instinct would be to run away, but buck wanted to run toward the chaos. if y/n was there, so was he. his life mission has been to keep her safe, and knowing someone went out of his way to hurt her makes him go crazy. the exact moment that freddie was taken down with his overcomplicated vest, buck found himself running to her. he instantly fell onto his knees, seeing the ash and tears on her face close up.

she wished she couldn’t feel it, but she felt every part of it. she didn’t know anything. was her leg even connected to her anymore? buck moved himself closer to her so she could hear him over the murmuring of watchers.

“hey! hey, y/n,” he starts.

“it h-hurts so bad,” she whines, making him grimace himself.

“son of a bitch, ok. we’re gonna get you out of there, yeah?”

“please,” she begs, almost inaudible. buck stands up, calling for anyone he can to lift the truck off her, which was almost impossible with a few people around. hen was on the ground, connecting machines to y/n’s harmed figure.

“hang in there, y/n/n,” she says softly. “we’ve got you.”

despite his entire body weight being used to lift the ladder engine, it didn’t budge once. the only thing it did was echo the raw screams from y/n, poisoning bucks ears making his heart speed up. the adrenaline pumping through his system was making him think he could do it.

“do you have anything on the truck we can use for leverage?” eddie asks to a panicked bobby, trying to save one of his workers and best friends.

“it’s too heavy, it wouldn’t work,” bobby says as a light goes off in bucks head.

“more people,” he mumbles. “we need more people! hey! all of you, get over here and lift this!” he shouts at the mob of people observing the accident. not hesitating, the civilians sprint over and grab onto any part of the truck that they can.

y/n was in grievous pain, dreading the agony that would come when they finally lifted it. she was right, it was tormenting, releasing shrieks she didn’t know she had. before she could rethink everything, she was tugged from under and flipped onto her back. buck couldn’t peel his gaze away from the blood that has completely stained her pant leg and the parts of her leg that should be inside of it. complete shock and fear took over his body, but not enough to stand there with her the whole time. he watched chimney and hen bandage up her leg and move her into the ambulance, where buck sat next to her. hen was in the back with him, chim being the designated driver. unfortunately, y/n had been awake for the entire experience. from the second the engine flipped, to the second she was lifted into the ambulance. as much buck was grateful that she was awake, he almost wanted her to pass out. she wouldn’t have to endure this much pain, despite the morphine kicking in.

y/n’s hand twitched in bucks, “buck?” she grumbles out.

“y/n,” he makes note of her panicked state. “i’m here, you’re ok. i’m not going anywhere, honey.”

“someone should tell the city that we need a n-new truck,” buck laughs at her mind and how it works before running a hand through her hair.

“you don’t have to worry about that,” says buck. “you have no idea how relieved i am that you’re ok.”

“we’re getting married soon,” she realizes. “shit, we were supposed to get married soon-“

“shh, it’s all gonna work out, ok?” buck reassures. “i’d marry you no matter what, broken leg or not.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

the hours sitting in the waiting room were grueling. maddie had left to be with buck, watching the entire scene go down on the news. even her heart ached, watching someone she already considers family have to face something like this. the whole team was anxiously waiting for the surgeon to come out and say she’d be ok. she held them together like a true family, being the most stable relationship they had. she was the part of the station that made their bond unbreakable. watching her vulnerable condition under that truck was almost intolerable. the time that she wasn’t in work felt like a missing puzzle piece.

weeks had passed since the bombings of LA, and buck had been there every single day. in sickness and in health, he hasn’t said the words out loud, but he swore to that since the day he met her. he knows that she would do the same exact thing for him, and he would spend every single day helping her.

y/n felt completely isolated in their small apartment, barely being able to leave the first floor. she craved work, she desperately awaited the day that she could return, but the injury in her leg hadn’t resolved. no matter how many times she tried to convince herself, she didn’t know if she’d ever be a firefighter again. at some point, she almost envied her fiancé for being able to go to work. he felt so bad for her, just wanting to give her her life back. the weekly doctors appointments were draining her of almost everything she had, every single one proving nothing. nothing that meant anything. the situation was completely out of anyone’s control, and she had consumed so much anger about it. anger at the doctors, the therapists, the kid, the 118, everyone around her.

buck was forced to sit back and watch, to act as a shoulder to cry on. he was the third crutch, the person she leaned on when she couldn’t stand on her own. there was no way in hell she could’ve done it alone. buck was the one to drive her to every appointment and helped carry some of the burden.

at the end of the day, there were two things that scared y/n the most. losing buck and losing her job. the two things that got her out of bed and the two things that gave her a true meaning. as time passed and every request to be back at work was denied, she swore her heart hurt more than her leg.

“y/n?” buck called out after arriving back home. she had been on the couch, watching another drama series about firefighters. “hi, how are you doing?” he asked when spotting her in the living room. she didn’t respond, just looked at the television with the volume low. he went and sat next to her.

“what’s wrong? did something happen?”

her eyes had already been bothered from tears of anger and frustration, and he could clearly see that with his own. “they called again.”

“wasn’t the answer you wanted?”

“i have been pushing myself every day for approval, and i have not gotten anything for it,” she says, dryly. “i have been killing myself to go back to what i love and why am i not getting anything?” her voice cracks.

“listen,” he tries to distract her from her own negativity and forces her to look at him. “i know you’ve heard this a million times, but you have to let yourself take the time to heal. if you go back too soon, you’re going to make it worse.”

her nose scrunches at bucks words, causing her to sniffle as he continues. “i know, it sucks, and i am so, so sorry. it’s just that none of us want to see you do more harm than good. we need you back as a firefighter, but i need you back to normal first. you’re worth so much more than this, and this injury is not going to take you out, we all know it.”

y/n opens her mouth to speak, but nothing comes out besides the small beginning of a word. she knows he’s right, but having to come to terms with that is the hardest part of it all. she begins to cry lightly again, her face in her hands as she leans forward. buck slides over, wrapping his arms around his distressed fiancé.

y/n took bucks advice, and now, she stands in the entrance of the firehouse. she walks in to see her uniform waiting for her in her cabinet, her gear untouched, and it feels like she was here yesterday. she feels at home here. buck follows her in, grabbing her hand and they restart the rest of their lives.

[anxious-witch]

So, Jan and Nace photoshoot analysis. This will definitely be long, and idk how coherent I will be. As always this is entirely subjective, this time maybe more than ever. I am up for friendly discussions and disagreements, but also after today if you are a dick, I will block you.

Anyway.

So let's go pictures by pictures first and then observe how they interact. We start off with the top one, that almost seems like it was two individual shots first, but go glued together. To focus on Nace first, he is looking directly into the camera, his face completely visible, but his hair and body is in the shadow. His leather jacket is even covering his neck. He is in "full armor", except for his face. His face having a layer of combativness only add to that imagery.

Now to focus on Jan. I'd say he is in a similar state, his stare perhaps even more defiant, as if daring us to judge. His face is half covered by his hair, which makes sm sense in a way that we know Jan is a quite private person. He doesn't want people to full see him behind a curtain. Some things are private and he doesn't want to show us everything.

I also find it interesting that these pictures have less contrast than the ones we go later, as if there is additional layer of gray over them. Like they weren't sure it was just yet time to full pull the curtain away from their intimate moments, making them softer and more blurry. As someone else pointed out, it's giving a vibe of them being in the shower, the hot stream muddyijg up the pictures.

Then, right below it, we have Jan and Nace doing an Inuit kiss, their noses touching. And my god, I am so insane about this complete shift in perspective. They aren't looking into the camera, but at each other, with an almost painfully soft expressions.

What struck me as really interesting is that with Kris and Bojan's shoots, they were the most honest and open in the pictures where they look into the camera. Here, it's the opposite. In moments where they are focused on each other, you get the feeling they aren't even aware they are being observed. Looking into the camera, to the viewers seems uncomfortable.

Then, we have this set. Top one resembles first one from the set, except for few significant changes. It's clearly one photo, not two separate ones glued together. Jan is closer to Nace, as if he moved close to protect him. Also another thing that I find interesting, although I am not sure of it was purposeful or simply a trick of the light but! In all pictures where they are together, it looks like they both have just a bit of smudged eyeliner. And I will even go as far to speculate it might be on purpse as if to imply their facade is getting smudged. They can't hold it in place anymore.

In picture two(my favorite, my beloved). We get them favung each other once again, and this time, Nace is openly laughing and Jan is smiling and looking at him with what I will dare say is the closest to adoration.

Jan's eyes are open and more visible, unlike from the first shot, where they were mostly covered by his hair. Almost as if seeing Nace in a happy and relaxed state made him show off a bit more of himself.

Last picture in this set has Jan looking at the camera, his hand clasped over Nace's mouth and Nace has his eyes half close, blind to the viewer, only focused on Jan.

And, okay. This is where my interpretation loses any pretense of objectivity, but I simply can't see this any other way. I read this as Nace being blind to them being watched so constantly and perhaps saying something that should-by Jan's standards-stay private. He is, unlike Nace, looking directly to us, and looks caugh, out of breath.

There is also that aspect of protectivness too-if he can stop Nace from revealing something us as views are not meant to hear, perhaps he can protect him from it.

Now, to focus on their separate pictures. Or well, mostly separate. Let's go with Nace's first.

To start with the top picture, Nace looks both tired and defiant here, staring directly at the camera. His arms are crossed over his chest and he is gripping his shirt very tightly, pulling it away from his arms and towards his chest.

Again, throwing objectivity out of the window because I simply cannot be bothered today, but. This reads to me sm like he is showing off his tattoos and hiding chest? As if he wishes to be judged by art he choose for himself. It could also tie into the fact that due to some body issues, his arms are truly something he likes to shows off in comparison to the rest of his body.

Second picture on the left is connected. Once again, he is not looking at the viewer, unaware he is being observed and thus, showing how under the facade of intensity and defiance, the pressure is getting to him.

Third picture is SO INTENSE. Nace is gagged by some sort of fabric and the shadow/makeup around his eyes is the most intense. He looks the most brooding and his features look almost twisted. Like he is being silenced and put in the shape he doesn't want to be in.

Then, we get this. What a transformation. The pure softness, the trust in Nace's eyes here. It's literally giving the intimacy of sharing an intimate moment with a lover to me, especially with the way these are positioned. Like Nace is laying down and softly looking up and then almost bashfully lowering his gaze. I am genuinely unwell with how intimate this looks.

Now, THIS. We have Jan, staring at the camera, pulling Nace closer to himself. Nace is standing with his back to us.

This picture once again shows to me of how protective Jan feels over Nace. This is giving such "Don't you dare touch him" vibes, it's insane. Jan's hair is messy and untaimed, and still half hiding his face and yet, he is not turning away. Because turning away would mean leaving Nace vulnerable so instead he faces the camera head on while providing a safe space for Nace.

And at last, two solo photos of Jan. First one has Jan showing off his painted nails, which we don't see in any of the other pictures. His face is half covered in both pictures, first with the hand and hair and the other with the hair only.

In the first picture, he is still looking at us, almost as if saying, "Are you watching? Do you see what I am showing?" While in the other one, he is looking at something away from the camera, in an almost resigned way. He is tired of the preformance, of being on guard. He is just letting hinself be observed.

Another thing that was pointed out to me was white frame for Nace vs black frame for Jan. And not to go totally off the rails at that, but-Nace providing a light to Jan, a hope of brightness and warmth, which Jan provides the comfort of dark, safe place for Nace is just bfjxnxkdjx.

Alll in all, I absolutely adored these and I am half asleep so I probably forgot half the stuff I wanted to say so please feel free to add on your thoughts.