#this was a study but i lost track of what i was focusing on while rendering :(

[ssalballoon]

i bet on losing dogs

[valkyriexo]

Work of Art | Hyunjin

ᑉ³pairing; Best Friend Hyunjin x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst (ish?), Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI, Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering, edging, Semi-public sex, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact

ᑉ³Authors Note; 1k event Commisson giveaway winner @skzdreamer13 (sorry it took so long ! ) Also... this is a bit longer then i intended it to be i got... carried away hehehe

The art studio smells like paint, the familiar scent swirling in the air as you dip your brush into a swirl of color. The canvas in front of you is slowly taking shape, the blend of pastel blues and soft pinks beginning to resemble the hazy skyline of a dreamscape you’ve been envisioning for weeks. You’ve lost track of how many hours you’ve spent on it, layering colors, fine-tuning the details, but it doesn’t matter. You’ve always loved getting lost in your work.

Across the room, Hyunjin sits at his usual spot by the window, sketchbook propped on his knee as he sketches something you can’t quite see from where you stand. It’s comfortable, familiar, the two of you working in companionable silence. Every now and then, you glance up to find him already looking at you, eyes soft and focused, like he’s trying to memorize every detail of the moment.

You’ve been friends for what feels like forever, bonded over late nights in this very studio, sharing music while you worked side by side.

It’s...... easy with him, always has been.

Hyunjin is the kind of person who understands you without you needing to say anything. He knows your moods, can read the subtlest change in your expression, and you’ve always been able to share everything with him — your art, your frustrations, your dreams. This studio was your place. You’d both stay long after everyone else left, the hum of creativity and quiet conversation filling the space between you.

“What do you think?” you ask, turning your canvas toward him. His opinion has always mattered to you. Hyunjin’s eye for detail is sharp, but more than that, you trust him to be honest.

He looks up, his gaze landing on the canvas. A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, his eyes softening as he takes it in. “It’s beautiful,” he says, voice low, almost reverent. “There’s something... ethereal about it. It feels like a memory.”

Your heart flutters at his words, the compliment striking deeper than it should. “That’s what I was going for,” you say, stepping back to look at your painting again.

Hyunjin nods, his gaze flickering back to the painting. For a moment, he doesn’t say anything, just studies it with that intense focus he always has when he’s taking something in. Then, quietly, he says, “You always manage to put so much feeling into your work. It’s one of the things I... admire about you.”

There’s a softness in his voice that makes your heart skip, something unspoken in the way he says those last words. He doesn’t look at you when he says it, his eyes still fixed on the canvas, but there’s an underlying tenderness that you can’t quite ignore.

You open your mouth to respond, to say something — anything — but the air feels thick with something you can’t name, and before you can find the right words, the door to the studio swings open.

Han walks into the studio, a burst of energy and excitement trailing in his wake. He’s carrying a bag of takeout, the aroma of food filling the air as he enters. His face is lit up with a wide, enthusiastic grin, his eyes sparkling with genuine excitement.

“Hey, everyone!” Han’s cheerful voice fills the studio as he strides in with takeout. “Thought you might be hungry.”

You turn to greet him, your mood lifting at the sight of his familiar, easygoing smile. Han sets the bags of food on the table with a casual grace. “I brought some takeout. Figured you two could use a break.”

“Thanks, Han,” you say, trying to keep the atmosphere light. You catch Hyunjin’s reaction from the corner of your eye. His smile tightens just a fraction, and he shifts his gaze back to his sketchbook, an unreadable expression settling on his face.

“Perfect timing,” Hyunjin says, his voice polite but lacking its usual warmth. “We could use a break.”

Han begins unpacking the food, his eyes bright as he glances at your painting. “Wow, Y/N, that’s incredible,” he says with genuine admiration. “You’ve really outdone yourself.”

You smile at the praise, feeling a warm flutter at Han’s enthusiasm. “Thanks, Han. I’ve been working on it for a while.”

As Han continues to unpack the food, you notice Hyunjin’s shoulders are tense, his focus remaining on his sketchbook. There’s a subtle shift in the air, a change you can’t quite place but that feels almost tangible.

“Mind if I join in?” Han asks, setting up a plate of food for you and Hyunjin. His casual tone and easy smile make it clear he’s just as comfortable here as he is anywhere else.

“Of course,” you reply, “It’s good to have you here.”

Hyunjin finally looks up, his gaze fleetingly meeting yours before he returns to his sketchbook. “Yeah, it’s nice to have a break,” he says, his tone once again polite but detached.

As you all sit down to eat, you find yourself drawn into Han’s stories and jokes, your laughter mingling with his. It’s clear that you’re enjoying his company, and you can’t help but notice how his presence brings a different kind of energy to the studio.

Hyunjin, on the other hand, remains subdued. He joins in the conversation, but his responses are brief, and his attention seems.....

....divided.

The studio hums with the soft sounds of conversation and the clinking of utensils as Han continues to engage with you and Hyunjin over lunch. His attention is focused on you, and you can’t miss the playful glint in his eyes.

Lately, Han has been visiting the studio more frequently. At first, it was just a casual drop-in here and there, but recently, he’s been making it a regular thing. The three of you have been spending a lot of time together, discussing art, sharing ideas, and even grabbing lunch like today. His presence has added a new dynamic to your studio time, and you can’t deny that it’s been refreshing.

When Han started coming around more, it felt like a natural extension of your routine. He’d drop by with coffee or lunch, sometimes bringing along his own sketches to work on. You found some joy in his company , and it was easy to get lost in conversation with him. His enthusiasm for art matched yours, and his friendly, easygoing nature made him a great addition to your creative space.

The more Han visited, the more you two grew close. You started to look forward to his presence, finding comfort and inspiration in his company. You’d often stay late into the evening, chatting about everything from art to life.

But with Han’s increased presence, something shifted. You noticed how your interactions with Hyunjin became less frequent. Where you used to work side by side, sharing thoughts and critiques, you now found yourself pulled into conversations with Han. 

“So, Y/N,” Han starts, leaning slightly closer with a teasing smile. “How do you manage to make everything look so effortless? I’ve seen your work, and I know it’s anything but.”

You laugh, a bit flustered by his directness. “It’s a lot of practice and maybe a bit of luck,” you reply, trying to keep things light.

Han grins, his gaze lingering on you. He gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment longer than necessary. “I’d say it’s definitely more than luck. I’ve seen your paintings turn into something incredible. Maybe you’ve got a secret.”

You feel your cheeks warm at his touch and compliment. “Maybe I do,” you say, matching his playful tone. “But I’m not sure I’m ready to share it just yet.”

Han chuckles softly and reaches over to hand you a paintbrush, his fingers brushing against yours in the process. “Well, if you ever decide to let me in on that secret, I’d be more than happy to help you with it.” He gets a little closer, his arm grazing yours as he leans in. “You know,” he says, leaning in a little closer, “I was thinking... maybe we should test that theory. How about we paint something together one day? I’ve got some ideas and I think it could be a lot of fun.”

“That sounds interesting. What kind of ideas do you have in mind?” you reply.

Just as he starts to respond, Hyunjin, who has been quietly watching, stands up abruptly. His voice, though calm, carries an unmistakable edge. “It’s getting late,” he says, his gaze flickering between you and Han. “I think it’s time to wrap things up for today. Y/N, you should probably head home too.”

Han’s expression shifts from playful to slightly confused. “Already? I was just about to ask Y/N to—”

Hyunjin cuts him off with a firm yet polite tone. “I’m sorry, Han, but we’ve all had a long day. We can catch up on the details another time. Y/N, let’s get going.”

You glance at Han, his eyes reflecting a mix of disappointment and surprise, before turning to Hyunjin. “Yeah, I guess it is getting late,” you agree, though you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt as you stand up.

Han’s disappointment is evident as he offers you a small, wistful smile. “Alright, Y/N. We’ll talk about it soon. Have a good night.” His words are warm, but there’s a hint of frustration in his eyes as he gathers his things.

As Han exits the studio, you turn to find Hyunjin already heading towards the door, his expression a mix of frustration and anger. He’s usually so composed, but there’s something in his demeanor tonight that feels sharp and unsettled.

“Hyunjin, wait up,” you call, catching up to him as he moves toward the entrance. The studio is now quiet, the clinking of utensils and hum of conversation replaced by an uneasy silence.

Hyunjin stops and turns to face you, his gaze intense. “Y/N, I didn’t mean to rush you, but..." He pauses, his voice faltering slightly as he searches for the right words.

“Actually, never mind,” he says abruptly, his tone shifting to a forced calm. “Have a good night, Y/N.”

He begins to walk toward the door, but you reach out, your voice trembling slightly. “But, Hyunjin? What’s wrong?”

Hyunjin stops, his back to you, and for a moment, you can see the conflict warring within him. He turns his head slightly, but the emotion in his eyes is hard to decipher.

"You've...you’ve been spending a lot of time with Han lately.”

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “He’s been coming by the studio more often. We’ve just been working on some ideas together.”

Hyunjin’s jaw tightens, his frustration evident. “I’ve noticed. It’s just—” He stops himself, running a hand through his hair. “Never mind. It’s none of my business who you spend your time with.”

Hyunjin’s frustration is palpable as he crosses his arms, his gaze fixed on the floor. The usually calm and collected friend is now visibly shaken, and the intensity in his voice is unmistakable.

“Hyunjin, what's wrong?” you ask, concern evident in your voice.

Hyunjin looks up, his expression hardening. “Nothing’s wrong,” he says, his voice clipped. “I’ll stop interrupting your time with Han.”

Before you can react, he turns away from you, heading towards the door. The sudden shift in his demeanor makes your heart ache, and you can’t just let him leave like this.

“No, wait!” you call out, rushing to catch up with him. “Hyunjin, please, don’t go. We need to talk about this.”

Hyunjin pauses but doesn’t turn around. “There’s nothing to talk about,” he replies, his tone flat. “I just... need some time alone. It’s better this way.”

You reach out, placing a hand gently on his arm. “Hyunjin, don’t shut me out. We’ve always been able to talk through things. I don’t want to lose our friendship over this.”

Hyunjin stiffens under your touch and then turns to face you, his eyes blazing with an emotion you hadn’t expected. The usually composed and easygoing Hyunjin is now a whirlwind of frustration and jealousy, his features tense and his jaw set tight. The raw intensity in his gaze is something you’ve never seen before — a mix of hurt and anger that makes your heart ache.

You’re taken aback by his intensity. “Han’s just been trying to be friendly and lighten the mood. I didn’t think it was anything more than him wanting to hang out and have a good time.”

“Are you seriously that oblivious?” he snaps, his voice cracking with the weight of his emotions. “I’ve been sitting here, watching him flirt with you, and all you seem to notice is how charming he is.”

Hyunjin’s voice trembles with frustration. “It’s not just about him being friendly! It’s about watching you with someone else, someone who’s clearly interested in you. And while he’s making moves, I’m just supposed to sit here and pretend it doesn’t bother me?”

You feel a pang of guilt, your own emotions a whirlwind of confusion and concern. “Hyunjin, I—”

“Do you really not get it?” he interrupts, his tone harsh and edged. “I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been hiding it for so long, thinking maybe it would go away or that it didn’t matter because we’re friends. But seeing you with Han, seeing how easily he gets to be close to you, it’s like... it’s tearing me apart.”

He stands there, struggling to keep his composure, his breath coming in uneven gasps.

“I... I didn’t know,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “Hyunjin, I never imagined you could feel this way. I thought... I always thought you’d see me as just a friend, nothing more. Why would you ever think that—”

Hyunjin interrupts, his voice strained. “Because you are special to me. I’ve been falling for you for so long, and I’ve been trying to ignore it, hoping it would go away. I’m sorry if I’ve been selfish, but it’s killing me to see you with him when all I want is to be close to you.”

He pauses, taking a deep breath as if bracing himself. “But I’ll give you space since it’s clear the feelings aren’t the same. I’m sorry for bringing this on you.” His voice is barely above a whisper, filled with regret and resignation.

Before you can find the right words to respond, before you can process the whirlwind of emotions, Hyunjin turns abruptly and walks toward the door. His steps are heavy, each one echoing the weight of his confession.

“Hyunjin, wait!” you call out, but he doesn’t turn back. The door closes softly behind him, leaving you alone in the quiet studio, your heart pounding.

You stand there, stunned and at a loss, the room feeling colder and emptier than before. Your heart feels like it’s been shattered. Your vision blurs with tears, and you try to hold them back, but they come uncontrollably. You bite your lip, trying to stifle the sobs that escape.

You’ve been in love with him for as long as you can remember, but you never dared to hope he could feel the same way.Standing there, tears streaming down your face, you clutch the edges of the doorframe, trying to ground yourself.

You take a shaky breath, desperately trying to compose yourself. With trembling hands, you wipe at your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, attempting to pull yourself together.

Summoning all the strength you have left, you push open the door and step out into the dimly lit hallway. The cool air hits your tear-streaked face, but it does little to soothe the turmoil you.

As you open the door, you come face-to-face with Hyunjin, who is standing right outside, as if he was about to come back in. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees you crying, and his expression shifts from pained resignation to a mix of shock and vulnerability.

You both stand there for a moment, the silence thick with unspoken words and raw emotion. Hyunjin's eyes are red-rimmed, and he looks as though he's been caught in a moment of hesitation, his own tears glistening in his eyes.

Hyunjin’s gaze drops, and he looks away, clearly struggling with his emotions. “I was just—” he starts, but his voice falters, and he wipes at his eyes quickly, as if trying to regain his composure.

As you both stand there, Hyunjin's gaze slowly meets yours. There’s a mix of desperation and hope in his eyes, as if he’s grappling with the urge to fix what’s been broken.

His expression softens, and with a trembling breath, he takes a step closer to you. The space between you seems to shrink as he closes the distance, his movements slow and deliberate.

Without a word, Hyunjin gently places his hands on your cheeks, his touch tender and warm. His eyes search yours for a moment longer, as if asking for permission. Then, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that is both soft and filled with emotion.

The kiss is hesitant at first, but it deepens as he pulls you closer, his lips moving against yours with a sense of longing and desperation. You can feel the trembling in his hands

As Hyunjin’s kiss deepens, it feels as though time stands still, the world outside the studio fading away. The intensity of the moment pushes you both backward, and with each tender touch of his lips, you find yourselves moving slowly but inevitably back into the studio, the door closing shut behind him.

The kiss continues, now more urgent and passionate, as if he’s trying to pour all the words he can’t express into this one moment.

When the kiss finally breaks, you both stand there, breathless and slightly disheveled, still close together. Hyunjin’s gaze is tender, and he looks at you with a mixture of relief and hope.

"Why me? I don’t get it” you say.

Hyunjin’s smile widens, and he gently wipes away a tear from your cheek. “Why you? Because you’re everything I’ve ever wanted—kind, talented, and absolutely incredible.Because you’re like your art—full of beauty and emotion. Every piece you create reveals a part of you, and I’ve been captivated by that. I’ve been waiting for the right moment to show you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time more desparetly, as if he needs to breathe and your his oxygen.

You can feel his hand slide down your body and he takes your hand in his. You feel your own heart skip a beat, and you can't help but smile as you continue to kiss, as he pushes you back allowing you to sit up on one of the tables in the studio. He takes the opportunity to put his body between your legs. 

His tongue explores your mouth, and you can’t help but respond, your own tongue dueling with his.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body. Your hands reach up to touch his chest, feeling the firm muscles underneath your fingertips, and Hyunjin lets out a low groan, his eyes darkening with desire.

“Fuck, I want you,” he growls, his hand gripping your hip tightly.

You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you moan softly, your own desire building up inside of you.     

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. Hyunjin’s lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at your sensitive skin. You arch your back, moaning as his hands roam over your body, cupping your breasts and pinching your nipples through the fabric of your shirt.

“Hyunjin, please,” you beg, your hands tugging at his shirt.He obliges, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside. You can’t help but stare at his muscular chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his abs. 

He smiles, looking at you, as if asking for permission with his eyes. You nod and his hands reach towards you to unbutton your shirt. You undo your bra on your own, and together both items fall to the ground. You blush as he stares at you.    

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your breasts and squeezing gently.

You moan, your nipples hardening under his touch. You can feel your wetness soaking through your panties, and you grind your hips against Hyunjin’s. He groans, both hands now gripping your hips tighter.

Hyunjin leans down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking gently. You try to stifle your moan, your hands gripping his hair as he switches to the other nipple, biting down gently. His lips trail back up to your neck as his hands begin to slide down the sides of your body.

His fingers find their way to your panties.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he growls, his fingers tracing the lines of your panties.

You moan, your hips bucking as his fingers slip under your panties and into your wetness. He strokes your clit, and you cry out, your orgasm building up inside of you. Hyunjin continues to stroke you, his fingers moving faster and faster. His fingers are long and slender, and you can feel them stroking you from the inside.

"Oh g-god, Hyunjin" you say, as he brings you closer and closer to the edge.

"Yeah? Does that feel good baby?" Hearing him call you "baby" sends a flutter through your chest, a warmth spreading in the pit of your stomach. It’s not just the word — it’s the way he says it, soft and full of affection, like it belongs only to you. You’ve heard the word before, but from his lips, it feels different — intimate, tender, and so undeniably right.

Your legs begin to tremble as your orgasm builds. Hyunjin kisses you again, his tongue exploring your mouth as his fingers continue to move inside you.

You break the kiss, gasping for breath. "d-don't stop" you whine. Hyunjin continues to kiss you, swallowing your cries as his pace speeds up. You grab onto Hyunjin's shoulders as you begin to ride his fingers, your body trembling with pleasure. "Fuck, I'm going to cum," you cry, as your orgasm approaches.

"Not yet," he whispers and you feel as he pulls his fingers out of you. "I want your cum on my cock."

You blush, as his hands reach down to unbutton his pants. He pushes his pants and boxers down in one swift motion. His erection springs free, and you can’t help but stare at it.

 “Do you want this?” he asks, his hand wrapping around his cock and stroking it slowly.

    You nod, your hand reaching out to touch him. Hyunjin groans, his hips thrusting forward as your hand wraps around his cock. You stroke him slowly, matching his rhythm. You pressed your thumb down onto his dripping red tip, and you could hear him whine.

   “Fuck, that feels good,” he says as he slowly spread open your legs. He pushes you back a little to line his tip up to your entrance.

"You ready for me?" he asks, teasingly.

"Please," you reply, desperately.

He pushes in, his cock stretching you open as he enters you. You moan, your hands gripping his arms as he begins to move, thrusting slowly at first.

"Please, Hyunjin, please." You begged, as your eyes closed from the pleasure.

"God, you're so tight," he groans, his hands gripping your hips, pulling out slowly before thrusting back in, back out, and back in again.

and he feels SO good.

And then he stops..... while still inside you.

Confused, you open your eyes to see a frozen Hyunjin. “What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I-I...." he stutters. Hyunjin’s face pales as his eyes dart nervously to the canvas behind you. "I spilled paint,” he says, gesturing to the canvas behind you. He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, visibly distressed. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I know you worked so hard on it, and I just... ruined it.” His voice breaks slightly, and he looks away, unable to meet your gaze.

You look at the canvas, your heart sinking a little. The once vibrant colors you’d carefully layered over days of meticulous work are now smeared and distorted by splashes of dark paint. What was supposed to be a serene landscape, full of soft pastels and warm hues, is now marred by streaks of harsh, misplaced colors running down the surface.

"It was perfect, and I ruined it," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I know how much this meant to you."

Hyunjin’s hand is covered in streaks of dark paint from knocking over the paint, and you can see how the paint has seeped into the creases of his hands, clinging to him like guilt.

He stares at his hand, then back at the ruined painting, shaking his head. "I should’ve been more careful," he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. "Look at this... I can't believe I did this to your work."

He looks up, shocked. "Y/N..."

"Hyunjin," you say. "It's okay. It's just paint."

"But..." he starts.

You cut him off with a kiss. "I'd rather have you than the painting," you whisper. "Besides I think your art is prettier than mine."

"You...you do?"

"Mmhm," You say nodding your head."Besides....I always said I wanted you to paint me one day..."

" You want me to paint you?"

You answer his question by moving his paint coated hands together and placing them both on your chest, leaving his paint handprints right on you.

You've never done anything like this before, but the idea of being so intimate with Hyunjin is incredibly arousing.

   You gasp at the sensation, your body trembling with desire. Hyunjin's touch is electric, and you can't help but moan as he continues to explore your body with his fingers. He moves one of his hands and traces a finger over your collarbone, leaving a trail of paint in its wake.

You feel as he begins to thrust into you again.

Your eyes close from the pleasure, and you moan as his cock fills you completely.

"Oh fuck," you say, your voice cracking. You feel Hyunjin's pace quicken as his cock continues to pound into you. His hands roam, allowing more paint to make its way onto your body. You place your hands into an open yellow and purple paint nearby and place your hands on his chest, covering him with paint as well.

"Oh fuck," Hyunjin growls, his voice hoarse with lust. He grabs you by the hips, and lifts you off the table.

"Wrap your legs around me," he says.

You do as he asks, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. His cock is still buried deep inside you, and the new angle sends shivers of pleasure through your body.

"That's it," he says, his voice husky. "Hold on tight."

He begins to move again, his pace quickening as he pounds into you, his cock hitting just the right spot inside you.

You cling to him, your arms wrapped around his neck and your face buried in his shoulder. You can't help but cry out as your orgasm approaches.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, your body trembling. "I'm gonna come."

"Yeah?" he says. "Me too."

His thrusts become faster, harder, as he pounds into you. Your cries echo in the room, and you feel him throb inside you.

"Come for me, Y/N," he growls.

"Oh god, Hyunjin," you cry, as your orgasm hits, your nails digging into his shoulders. He continues to thrust into you, drawing out your pleasure. You cling to him, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure wash over you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin groans, as he comes, his cock pulsing inside you, completing the masterpiece by painting your walls.

    When you finally come down from your orgasm, you look down at Hyunjin and see that he's covered in paint. His face, his hair, and even his clothes are covered in a rainbow of colors.

    You can't help but laugh at the sight, and Hyunjin joins in your laughter.

"You look beautiful," he says with a soft smile, his eyes tracing your features. "Like a work of art. Something I'd spend hours admiring, and still, it wouldn't be enough." He places you back down on the table and pulls you into a tight embrace, and you can feel the warmth of his body against yours.

    The two of you stay there for a moment, wrapped in each other's arms, before you finally break away.

    "We should.... clean up," you say, gesturing to the paint that's covering both of your bodies.

    Hyunjin nods in agreement, but neither of you move.

Instead, he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"We'll get cleaned up soon," he says, his voice soft and tender.

"Right now, I just want to hold you."

You smile, a wave of happiness washing over you. "I'd like that," you say, nuzzling against his chest.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

ઇ Taglist

@skzstarnet @supernovanetwork @k-labels

@kayleefriedchicken  @stellasays45 @beautyandmentalbreakdown @bo-fairykim @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

@onlyhyunjin @oddracha @karatlima @everythingboutkpop @grandma143

@ayyonoona @iiriam @dandelions-143@dithammack @ch4nn13luv

@chrizzztopherbang @Palindrome969 @kimahreummm

Want to be addedto the taglist? click here

Want to be removed from the taglist? send me a message <3

[melzula]

My HC is that since Zuko is royalty, the heir, and also commanded his fleet on his hunt for the avatar, he’s used to taking charge. But the way I’m thinking of it is him being casually dominant with the y/n. Things like using a soft but firm voice to make sure they eat enough, that they’re warm, putting his hand on their thigh to keep it from shaking, etc. the gaang would start to notice how it takes one look from Zuko and y/n complies. Wrapping his hand around their hips to bring them down to sit in his lap, subtly tugging their skirt down when it rides up, stuff like that.

Could I please request some of your amazing writing for casual dominance with Zuko?

pairing: Zuko x reader

notes: okay so this was actually pretty challenging to write just bc i had to be careful about not making zuko come off as too controlling while also still fulfilling the details of the request. however i think it came out pretty good !

summary: Zuko shows his love for you the only way he knows how to

To those on the outside, your relationship with Zuko appeared to be… odd.

No one could quite determine whether he saw you as an equal or as someone who needed to be taken care of. Everyone knew you could handle your own; you’d been a skilled swordsman during the war and a master at hand-to-hand combat. No one doubted your ability to fend for yourself, but it seemed once you began dating the Fire Lord there was no longer any need for you to do so. Zuko took care of you, and being with him meant never having to lift a finger and never having to worry again. You were his prized jewel, and he took it upon himself to care for you in the only way he knew how.

Growing up, the Prince had never properly learned how to show affection or lovingly nurture a relationship. His parents weren’t the greatest example, and his father’s coldness left much to desire. However, his upbringing as a royal and his time commanding a fleet during his search for the Avatar allowed him to grow into a leader. In his younger years he’d been hotheaded and impulsive, but with time he had learned to be firm yet fair. He was a benevolent leader who only wished to do what was best for his people, and this same thought process extended to you.

You’d missed dinner one night and left him waiting in the throne room, too engrossed in your studies to realize how much time had passed or just how hungry you were. Your stomach growled incessantly and your head was beginning to ache, but you were adamant about finishing your book. Having recently been proposed to by the Fire Lord, you took it upon yourself to read up on the history of the Fire Nation and your expected duties as Fire Lady. You were overwhelmed, and eating dinner was the last thing on your mind.

“Y/n,” he had called, startling you out of your focused state as you rested your gaze upon his figure in the doorway. “We were supposed to have dinner together, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you uttered bashfully, using your book to shield your embarrassed features. “I must have lost track of time. Let me just finish this last page and then I’ll-“

“Y/n,” he repeated with a pointed look, one that had you slowly lowering your text.

“Yes, Zuko,” you had finally relented. You couldn’t ignore your growling stomach any longer, and so you’d tossed your book aside and taken the arm he’d offered for you before allowing him to escort you to the dining room.

Zuko wasn’t strict, wasn’t cruel, just firm. It was his way of showing he cared for you, and you took no offense to how he so often liked to be the one in charge. Whether it be in his actions or in his tone of voice, he took the lead and you followed. This wasn’t to say that you didn’t have a mind or will of your own, but often times Zuko took it upon himself to step in whenever he felt you weren’t taking care of yourself the way he believed you should be.

His love could be conveyed through mundane actions such as wordlessly slipping your shawl over your shoulders without you having to ask to ensure you won’t be cold during a stroll in the palace gardens or resting a comforting hand on your thigh to stop the nervous bouncing of your leg during an important meeting. Anyone and everyone could see the influence he held over you, the dominant role he’d taken in your relationship, and you happily fell into place with him.

“Don’t you think it’s just a little weird?” Sokka had noted once to his sister after watching Zuko carefully wrap his fingers along your hips and delicately pull your figure into his lap as if he were handling a porcelain doll. You looked radiant in your silk robes and ceremonial makeup, a look picked out by Zuko to ease your anxieties over your lack of knowledge of traditional Fire Nation fashion, and as the Fire Lord’s fiancé you were the talk of the ball.

“Maybe it does seem like Zuko is usually the one in charge,” Katara had agreed thoughtfully, her gaze carefully resting upon your features to search for any sign of discontent or restlessness. Of course, she found none. “But I know y/n, and if she had a problem with it she would have stood up for herself and said something about it.”

The siblings watched as you conversed with various guests, your smile sincere as you spoke with the people you would soon help rule over as Fire Lady. Shifting in your seat as you crossed your legs, Zuko took note of the way the slit of your skirt had partially opened to reveal your bare leg. Wordlessly and without interrupting your conversation, the Fire Lord shifted the fabric so that your skin was kept from prying eyes. He didn’t care in the slightest if anyone saw, but he knew you would be embarrassed if guests began to question your way of dress, so he took it upon himself to fix the problem for you.

“I think it’s a love language thing,” Katara had explained after removing her attention from the scene and returning it to her brother. “He’s showing he cares through actions instead of words. Maybe it’s the only way he knows how to.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sokka relented, though his features still displayed a mild sense of disgust. “But that doesn’t make it any less oogier.”

Maybe no one on the outside ever truly would be able to comprehend the dynamics of your relationship with Zuko, but it wasn’t for them to understand. He took care of you and loved you in the only way he truly knew how to, and you appreciated him endlessly. With Zuko as your soon-to-be husband, you knew you’d always have someone looking after your best interests. All the same, Zuko knew he’d always have someone to love and accept him for who he was.

You were a perfect match.

| zuko tags: @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @taeeemin @livelaughlovekuni @lovialy @alexatiu @heartfully10 @creationcitystreet-em

[bruciemilf]

Need a no capes! AU where Clark is Just A Guy trying to help his folks keep their farm going. It’s not easy under the Luthors.

Having to sell their property rights because their farm is on a purchased land wasn’t an easy choice. But if Clark knows something, is that Kents don’t go down easy.

Once Thomas Wayne buys it from Luthor Senior, — Clark doesn’t know the specifics; He just heard the words “old college teammate” and “lost bet” and “fuck you, John” and put it together.

So, Thomas Wayne buys their farm. They have peace, for a while.

Except one day the man himself knocks on Clark’s apartment, switchblade smile bright and fraudulent. Clark quickly learns Thomas Wayne can either be your best friend, or your biggest fear.

“It’s really nothin’ personal,” Thomas shrugs. Maybe, to him, it’s a good apology. “Luthor just found out some…Nasty lies about me. And it’d really affect the cancer research fundraiser if they got out. “

People don’t fear lies, Clark thinks.

“So, your daddy ain’t answering me, and your mom threw a bottle at me when I went over there, so I figured you’re my last resort. I can’t buy if they ain’t sellin’, son.”

“We don’t appreciate being bought, Mr. Wayne.”

“Right, but the other alternative would be kicking ya’ll out on the street, and it’d make me feel like a real asshole,”

You already are, Clark wants to say, but decides it wouldn’t be a good idea.

“ So we have two options: Either you sell me the farm and everyone’s happy; Or you get the best bed at Gotham’s homeless shelter. I’m sorry, Clark. Really.”

He swallows an angry gulp. World’s strongest man and he can’t help but feel such sorrowful helplessness. “And what’s option 3?”

Thomas knows that’s a challenge, and knows Clark has a right to it. Something just clicks in the man’s eyes, thought. Clark isn’t sure he likes it. “Option number three…I deal with this my way. But you gotta do something for me.”

And that’s how Clark ends up babysitting infamously anonymous Bruce Wayne.

No paper touches him; He successfully evaded and escaped any journalist that ever approached, hunted, or tracked him down.

The man is awfully quiet, lilly pale skin glowing pink in Kansas sun. Clark studies the wide, impressive curve of his shoulders, surprisingly thick and strong for such a pretty thing.

The way his eyes are alert and focused and the color of watercolor rain. Mostly, he’s crushed by Bruce’s timidity. God, he’s so beautiful.

“Imma need a week and Brucie’s outta your hands faster than a devil in a church,” Thomas jokes, affectionately ruffling chestnut hair. Clark can see the resemblance, but not the relation. “You be good for Clark, ya hear?”

Bruce doesn’t give a verbal or physical answer. He seems awfully angry about something. He picks up his bags, storms past Clark and stomps off upstairs. He has a feeling this week will be hell for all of them.

“Well, you have fun! And Clark?” Thomas’ voice lowers, “You take care of my boy, now.”

“Oh, I will.”

It’s not a lie.

He’ll take care of Bruce so good he won’t ever want to leave.

[asapeveryday]

A LITTLE BREAK?★彡

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Academic Weapon Reader (as per request)

Warnings: smut (fingering)

Summary: You’ve been so focused on your work, and Paige thinks she needs to show you how to take a break.

A/n: thanku to the anon who requested this 💗 hope I did it sum justice

WHEN you felt her arms wrap around you the first thing you wanted to do was melt into her touch. That’s how it usually was with Paige, her words would make you stumble and the warmth of her body was an immediate distraction.

Not at the moment though. When it came to school, almost nothing could break your focus. Studying is the only thing you have full control over in your life, and as a college student going into a competitive field while dating an extremely sought after and socially successful basketball player there was already many things in your life that were beyond trying to control.

Paige usually understood how important your academics were to you. She was a good student too— perhaps not to the same extent, but she related to the value you put into results.

Her hands grip your body as she nuzzles her face into your neck, her crimped blonde hair tickling your face. She smelt like fresh laundry.

Leaning your head into hers, you sigh and force yourself to shrug her off.

“Not right now, Paigey.”

“Don’t shake me off.” She pouts, faking hurt. “You’ve been working for so fuckin’ long, I’m bored.”

You know the past week hasn’t been the best for the two of you. She’d always had a busy schedule but Paige had been managing sports, school and social life since she was little. You just weren’t on that level of time management yet, so Paige had been slightly neglected. “I know, I know. Just let me finish up and we can go get something to eat.” You mumble, not even thinking. You don’t look up from your work, but you can feel Paige’s cold eyes staring at your back.

“We’re not going out,” she says. “do you even know what time it is?”

When you don’t respond she physically spins you in your chair to face her, effectively breaking your concentration and annoying you. “Bro seriously just let me get this shit done. I already said we’d do something after. You know I need to do well on this.” You snap.

“Who’re you calling bro?” Paige sneers, crossing her arms. “Didn’t you hear me? We’re not doing shit after you study, it’s literally eleven already.”

Eleven? You turn to check the time on your phone and are unhappy to see that she’s right. The screen reads 11:05pm, meaning you’ve been working for hours thinking you’d have the evening free, but you lost track of time and now it was well past curfew. You don’t even bother to respond to Paige, who was looking at you now with an unreadable expression.

You just rest your face in your hands for a moment. You’re so, so tired and yet there’s still so much to be done. Plus, you honestly missed Paige’s company. You hadn’t been pressed against her in days.

“I’m sorry.” You finally say into your hands. “I just…I have so much to do.”

Paige pulls your hands away from your face and holds them in her own. You love when she stands over you like this, it’s never failed to send shivers down your spine at how you have to look up at her. She offers a soft smile.

“I know, baby. Don’t be sorry. I’ve been missing you, you know?”

“I know.” You respond, finally taking her in.

Paige had slept in braids the night before and taken them it before coming to see you, her light hair now beachy waves down her shoulders. She wore a black zip up and grey sweats that hung low on her hips, sometimes revealing the band of her boxer shorts.

“Oh, so you’re gonna ignore me all day and then check me out?” She quips, bring you back to reality.

“Shut up.” You laugh, getting up from the desk and wrapping your arms around her. “I guess I’ve just missed you too.”

“Want me to help you study for a bit?” She asks, stepping back and sitting on your bed.

“Sure.” You reply, but what you really want to say is “I don’t deserve you.”

-

“Ask me the fourth one again”

“Aight.” Paige says, getting out one of your flash cards and scrunching her face up as she reads what you’ve written.

“What are the traits of an organism with P-Pateu’s syndrome? The fuck is that?”

“It means they have an extra 13th autosomal chromosome.” You laugh. She just shakes her head. “You’re not even speaking English right now.”

Before you can even answer the question she whips out another card. “Wait, answer this one. Guess what Paige Bueckers thinks you should do right now?”

“You think you’re so funny.” You roll your eyes. “Paige c’mon, just finish the flash cards and then you have me all night.”

“Baby I think it’s time to take a break.” She says, tossing the cards away. Paige crawls towards you before slowly kissing your lips. Her chapstick is sweet and minty, you can’t help but chase her mouth after she pulls away. “Plus I don’t wanna wait anymore. I want you now.”

She’s eyeing you down so intensely, and suddenly you don’t care about biology right now. You want to see what she does when she wants you, it’s been so long you’ve almost forgotten.

“I guess I can take a little break.” You murmur, feeling your stomach tighten when her tongue darts out to wet her lips.

In a moment you’re caged under her arms, laughing as your head hits your soft pillows. Paige bares a smile so bright it warms your heart, her hair tickling your skin as she plants soft kisses to your face.

“Arms up.” She tuts, swiftly pulling your shirt over your head and letting out a satisfied noise at the sight of your bra-less torso. Her hands meet your breasts as she kisses you softly and you shiver at the feeling of her calloused palms against your skin. She’s usually rough when handling you, but today she is beautifully gentle.

You gasp when she pinches your nipples, which gives her easy access to slip her tongue in your mouth. Paige kisses languidly, her lips are soft and she smirks against your own every time you break from her.

Paige loves speed, aggression and pressure. Sex with her was always exhilarating and exhausting, by the end of nights with her you two were quick to pass out. You enjoyed this, she brought a different kind of rush into your life that way. This slower pace was new to you.

“What’s going on, P?” You manage to get out in between kisses. Maybe she wasn’t going to fuck you, maybe kissing and touching was all for tonight…though it usually wasn’t.

“Don’t wanna stress you out, baby.” She pulls away from you, lips pink and eyes hooded. You recognize the look on her face, it’s more then desire, it’s determination. “Lemme take your mind off of things for a bit.”

Her fingers graze your stomach as they play with the band of your pyjama shorts and she’s eyeing you with a questioning look. When you nod okay to her she slips them down your legs, leaving you topless with your cotton underwear on.

“You’re so cute.” She bites her lip as she unzips her sweater, leaving her in sweats and a black sports bra, her silver chain shining against her skin. You want to scoff at the comment but it ultimately makes you blush and hide your face, to which she lets out a chuckle.

Her fingers are agonizingly soft against the material of your underwear, rubbing the slowest, most teasing circles you’ve ever felt in your life. Her head is buried in your neck, sucking dark hickeys into your skin. “Paige.” You whine. “C’mon now, just touch me for real.”

“So impatient.” She quips, finally taking your last article of clothing off. “Look at you, all wet for me.”

“I missed you Paigey.” You say quietly, opening your legs for her. You can feel her smile against your neck, and you let out a sigh as her finger meets your clit.

You feel yourself melt into a world of pleasure as her hands please you, Paige knows exactly what to do to get you going, except this time with a softness that you’re starting to love. She’s so passionate as she praises you; licking your skin, kissing your lips and pressing her forehead to yours while subtly upping the pressure on your bud, before ultimately slipping her fingers inside of you.

“I love how focused you are all the time.” She murmurs, her hands slowly pumping in and out of you. “It’s so hard for me to stand back and let you do your thing, I just want to be on you all the time.”

You attempt to squeeze your legs shut but her hand roughly pries you open, though the moment of aggression is gone when when she continues to say “Do you know how many times I thought of you this week? So many times. Fuck, every night I thought of having you like this, spread wide open for me.”

“Oh, Paige, oh my god.” You whine, her fingers are quickening now. The noises from your slick and her loud kisses are so lewd it’s driving you insane. Her breath is warm on your skin as she whispers her heart out to you. Paige’s voice was low and almost raspy, almost enough to make you cum on its own.

“I just want you to take it easy when you’re with me, alright?” She says, meeting your eyes. You try your hardest to hold her gaze but it’s so hard when she’s in you like this, her blue eyes staring through you with intensity. You nod at her, but it’s not enough.

“Say it.” She tilts her head, curling her fingers inside of you. “Say you’ll take breaks baby.”

“I-I’ll take breaks P, I’ll take it easy.” You manage to get out, voice wavering. You’re feeling that familiar pressure in your abdomen now as her fingers passionately pump into you, your back arching and legs twitching.

“You promise?” Paige asks. Her hands are going fast now, the sight of her veiny arms between you, her digits disappearing inside of your pussy, it was driving you to the edge.

“I promise, Paige. Please, please.” You throw your head back with pleasure. She keeps up her pace while kissing you sweetly, taking your moans into her mouth and murmuring “yeah, just like that.” until you cum all over her fingers.

She sombrely pulls her hand out from you and presents it to your lips, and you eagerly suck on her fingers. Her gaze is tantalizing, she can’t look away from you even when you’re finished tasting yourself.

You bring your hands to your face and sigh, basking in the post-nut clarity. It felt so rejuvenating to be laying beneath her on your bed, lights low and warm and body buzzing from climax. You weren’t even tired, you just felt amazingly clear headed.

Paige allows her self to put her body weight on you, laying her head on your chest and wrapping her muscular arms around you. “How was that?” She asks, and her tone almost makes you laugh. She’s confident, but always giddy to please you.

“So good.” You smile. “Different, but good. Exactly what I needed.”

Paige just laughs and squeezes you. The feeling of her heart beating by yours, her eyelashes blinking against your skin. You can’t help but feel like this is all you’ll ever truly need.

“You’re not still planning on studying…right?” Paige grumbles, and you let out a heartily chuckle.

“Fuck no, that’s done for the day. I’m all yours.”

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

Bellamy Blake - Arkadia

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ Bellamy calls a group meeting to decide certain defense plans and catch up with everyone, but his jealousy gets the best of him. ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, p in v, jealousy, nsfw, degrading, praise

Walking into the main room where we kept the rovers I saw chairs near an open rover, my friends sitting in all of them.

Everyone had a smile on their face. Everyone being, Clarke, Bellamy, Monty, Jasper, Harper, and Miller. It was nice when we got to just sit and catch up with each other, not worry about grounders and Polis, even If it was for a mere hour.

Walking up to the group I was met with greetings and questions. I took a seat in the back of the open rover, my legs sticking out as my hands found their place on the edge of the floor.

"You missed Bellamys 'defense' plans," Miller spoke to me with a laugh, doing air quotes. earning a scoff from Bellamy.

"What am I ever gonna do now?" I reply, joining Miller's laughter.

"You should've heard it! Stupidest thing-" Jasper soon got cut off by Bellamy's stern voice.

"Where were you," Bellamy asked, eyeing me up and down, not that I noticed.

My laughter died down, same with Millers at Bellamy's tone. A thick silence now surrounded the group.

I furrowed my eyebrows, "I was just hanging with Kyle and lost track of time." I finished with a shrug.

I didn't understand why discussing defense plans we never would use was so important to him, Monty could've just relayed the plan to me afterward. Me and Bellay had been friends for a while, even on the Ark, he would come and visit me on visitation days while I was in the cell.

Bellamy scoffed and placed his hands on his hips- something he often did when he was frustrated. "These are important meetings, don't miss them for some guy." Bellamy's eyes were still focused on my outfit. I was wearing a pair of short shorts and a T-shirt that hugged me in all the right places.

Everyone started to shift uncomfortably in their seats, their smiles now long gone.

"It's okay Bellamy, well just tell her the plan after, for what it's worth I thought it was a good idea." Clarke chirped up from next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder which he quickly shrugged off.

Here comes Clarke, sucking up for Bellamy. It was something she had always done. Wherever Bellamy was, she was right there next to him, it got on my nerves most of the time, how close they would always be.

I rolled my eyes at Clarke's sentence, crossing my arms on my chest; only helping to push my tits up more. Which Bellamy took full note of.

"Hey, Monty we have that, uh, thing remember?" Jasper spoke to Monty.

"Oh, yeah, right, we should get going."

"Me too." Harper butted in

The three quickly stood up and exited the room, clearly trying to get away from the awkward, thick tension.

"I should get going too, the wall isn't gonna watch itself." Miller joked, chuckling awkwardly.

"Let me go with-" Bellamy cut me off.

"I need to talk with you," He started, "Alone," he finished, looking at Miller and Clarke. A sign they should leave.

Clarke pursed her lips before nodding and joining Miller before leaving, closing the airlock door.

I felt my heartbeat quicken, it was just me and Bellamy now. Alone.

A few moments had passed of him just staring me down, studying my every move as I shifted in my position, my legs now crossed along with my arms.

I cleared my throat, "What did you need?" I asked with a stutter, my nerves were through the roof.

They always were when I was alone with him. He always had such a strong effect on me, his good looks, his strong body. Bellamy was the one I thought of late at night.

"What were you doing with Kyle?" Bellamy asked, walking closer to me, making me look up at him from where I was sitting.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, was he really jealous?

"He was showing me a blueprint for a new scope he was making. Why? You jealous?" I teasingly spoke.

My teasing seemed to fuel his anger more.

"In that outfit? Yeah, right." Bellamy laughed, crossing his arms

My brows creased, "What's wrong with my outfit?" I looked down at it, examining it myself. The shorts were a bit short, but it's not like anyone would be looking.

"You're always walking around in those skimpy outfits, Kyle was probably eye fucking you." Bellamy was so close I could smell him, a smell I've come to love, a smell I've dreamed of for years.

"I don't say anything when Clarke is practically on top of you," I admitted, who was he to tell me I wear skimpy outfits, I didn't even know he looked at me like that, though his words were harsh it sent a wave of warmth down my body.

Bellamy smiled, this was amusing to him. "You think I want Clarke?"

I rolled my eyes, making him grab my face, bringing me closer to his. "Don't roll your eyes at me, princess." Bellamy let me go harshly, if I was wet before I'm pooling now. I simply nodded my head, too starstruck to form a sentence, he chuckled in reply.

"Undress. Now." Bellamy demanded. I didn't even need to think about it, the moment he said those words it was done, my clothes found their way onto the floor, I had picked the wrong day to go without wearing panties.

Being the only one undressed I felt vulnerable, I looked back up at him and he knew what I wanted to say before I even had to say it.

"You wanna dress like a slut, you're gonna act like one too. Get in the fucking rover."

His words had me soaked, I was sure it was leaking down my leg.

I crawled into the back of the vehicle, laying down and using my arms to lift myself up a bit. The air was hot and full of lust, practically choking me. Bellamy crawled in right after me, he moved my legs and placed them on the sides of his hips.

Were we really gonna go through with this?

He was quick to unbuckle his belt and reveal his cock, I wasn't sure I could take all of him.

"Gonna show you who you belong to, you didn't even wear panties, you're such a slut." Bellamy breathed out, grabbing onto my hips and pulling me closer, I felt his tip rub up and down my pussy, earning a moan from me when it rubbed against my clit.

Bellamy smirked and thrusted into me. I moaned at the sudden feeling of being full, I felt my walls stretch around his cock. The pain was soon replaced with pleasure as his thumb traced circles around my clit.

"Gonna make you feel so good, slut, only I'm gonna make you feel this good."

His thrusts started off slow, a torturing pace. But it was enough to get my legs shaking, combined with his words and his thumb on my clit I was already cumming with a loud moan.

"Fuuuck, you sound so pretty cumming on my dick, princess, just like that."

Bellamy began thrusting harder, continuously hitting my sweet spot over and over again, forcing my back to arch. It all just felt too good.

His free hand came up and shoved my bra down, he made quick work of toying with my breasts. His groans became breathier, his grunts of pleasure enhancing my experience.

"Who do you belong to? Say it." With every word he spoke, he pulled out and slammed right back into me, forcing a pleasure-filled scream out of me, one part of me hoped nobody heard, and the other hoped everyone knew who was fucking me.

I already felt like I was gonna cum again, both his hands found their way to my hips, holding me down roughly.

When I couldn't reply he stopped all movements, leaving me whining and whimpering, I needed his cock, I craved it.

"Say it, or I swear to god I will drag you out of this rover and fuck you in front of everybody." I had no choice but to speak, not because I was scared of people seeing but because I needed him to keep fucking me, I needed to be used by him.

"I belong to you Bell, now please keep fucking me, please," I pleaded, my eyes fogging over with lust, all I could think about was him and his cock.

Bellamy smirked, satisfied with my answer, he began fucking me harder and faster than before. Chasing his own high. I was sure his grip on my hips would leave bruises, but I was glad, I wanted to remember this moment forever.

Wet loud sounds filled the vehicle, our moans intertwining as the sound of skin slapping against skin filled my ears. His cock filled my pussy so well, I knew nobody would ever fuck me this good again, I was all his.

My pussy clenched around his cock and I felt him twitch inside of me, he liked that.

"Keep doing that, be good for me princess."

I obeyed him and kept clenching, my legs now wrapped around his hips, needing him deeper inside me.

"So close, so close," He let out between moans, his thrusts now becoming sloppier. "Fuuck,"

I felt his warm cum fill my pussy, his thrust came to a slow gentle pace, still fucking his cum into me.

After catching his breath he pulled out, now leaving me feeling empty without him.

Just as he was about to say something the door behind him opened, revealing Kyle. A shocked, jaw-dropped Kyle. Bellamy quickly moved in front of me as Kyle took in the sight. Once he realized the situation he slammed the door.

My face was flushed red but Bellamy found the situation hilarious.

"I never want this to end," I admit, looking into his eyes.

"Then it won't, princess."

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[jobean12-blog]

Kiss to Kiss

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader

Word Count: 855

Summary: Joel is grumpier than usual and the only way to make it better is YOU.

Author's Note: This is a completely self-indulgent fic focused on his neck because not unknown to you all I'm obsessed with it and I could spend the rest of forever kissing his neck. Thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy! 🥰

Warnings: soft and sweet fluff with LOTS of kisses, especially neck kiss

PS if you're looking for some yummy posts check out @iamasaddie post HERE. She has so many goodies! Thanks for the inspo sweets!

PPS I sprinkled a couple of yummy gifs in there too just bc 🫠

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

When the front door of your small house creaks open and then slams shut with a bang you turn off the oven and brush off your hands.

“Joel?”

The only response you get is in the form of an acknowledging grunt.

He’s standing in the hallway, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his jaw. He looks lost in thought.

“What happened?” you ask quietly as you approach.

His brown eyes look up and you can see the lines on his forehead soften at the sight of you. He doesn’t answer and just tracks your movement until you reach him and press yourself closer.

Your fingertips lightly trace his jaw as you study his face.

“Come here,” you tell him before grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the couch.

He follows and promptly sits when you give him a little shove. Immediately, his legs spread wide and he places his elbows on his knees, massaging the bridge of his nose.

You stand between his legs and remove his fingers from his face, waiting until he sits back. Then you rest your hands on his broad shoulders and straddle his waist.

“You want to talk about why you’re so grumpy?”

As you ask the question you gently drag your fingers across his cheek and then the outline of his scruffy jaw. His gaze is trained on your face but when you lean in and press your lips to his neck you can feel him let out a deep exhale.

“Who said I’m grumpy?” he grumbles before his eyes close, dark lashes fluttering against his cheeks and his hands slowly slide up your thighs to settle on your waist.

You delicately drag your nose over his skin, stopping just below his ear to press another soft kiss there. Your lips linger on every inch of his neck and he sinks further into the couch, the tension sliding from his shoulders.

Your fingers toy with the already open collar of his shirt, dipping lower until you reach the first closed button. You pop it open and let your fingertips explore his newly exposed skin while keeping your lips on his neck. You find every little beauty mark and kiss it, nuzzling and breathing him in as you go.

He rests his head along the back of the couch and you take the opportunity to kiss along his collarbone and over the hollow of his throat, feeling the deep vibration of his satisfied hum.

When you reach the other side of his neck you start at his pulse point, nipping softly before trailing kisses all the way up to his other ear.

He slips his fingers under your shirt and digs them into your skin, holding you in place. Your lips graze his cheek until you find his mouth and press a feather light kiss there.

“Darlin’,” he murmurs, his eyes still closed. “More.”

You happily oblige and pepper his face with kisses. His forehead, his nose, his eyelids and every patch of gray that lines his cheeks. Without stopping you dip your head to his neck again and drag your mouth along his skin with light kisses.

Each time your lips pass his mouth he chases them.

He flattens his palms and slides his hands along the curve of your back then gently smooths them back down. You shiver from his touch and smile into his neck.

“That feels nice,” you whisper.

He does it again, keeping you close while you continue pressing your lips to the strong column of his neck. When you gently suck on his skin you can feel his hard swallow. His hands still and he moves you back so he can look you in the eyes.

“No more?” you ask.

“I always want more,” he answers.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re upset first?”

He slowly shakes his head no, tilting his face and gliding his hand up to your neck to bring your lips closer. His palm flattens against your cheek and he rubs his calloused thumb across your temple.

“Later,” he whispers against your mouth. “Talk later.”

His kiss is soft but still holds a desperation you’re all too familiar with and when he takes you in his arms and lays you on the couch, you welcome the comfortable and safe weight of him, wrapping you in his warmth and scent.

He cradles your cheek and brushes his lips across yours tenderly.

“I made cookies…” you tell him softly.

“Is that what I smell?”

His lips curve into a small smile and you quickly kiss them.

“Yep. You want some?”

He buries his face in your neck and runs his nose along your skin and when you feel his lips part to speak you answer for him before he has the chance.

“I know…later,” you say.

His gaze finds yours and he smiles again, his eyes closing when your fingers comb through his hair.

Your lips meet with a tug on his curls and he hums contentedly when you melt into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and forgetting about everything else but him.

@littleseasiren @hiddles-rose @lizette50 @lorilane33 @blackwidownat2814

[ahqkas]

if you taking request can u make sumn with mattheo and the reader is just like Rory Gilmore studying all the time and he prod of her or sumn and thank you AND IM LOVE YOUR WRITING

NOTES! fem!reader, i’ve never watched gilmore girls in my life so that’s just my interpretation of rory gilmore from what i’ve seen on tiktok 🥹

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

THE LIBRARY AT HOGWARTS HAD ALWAYS BEEN YOUR SAFE PLACE. the quiet rustle of parchment, the soft scratch of quills, and the muted footsteps of other students as they moved between aisles — these were the sounds that surrounded you as you pored over your notes, your quill gliding smoothly across the page.

you had always been studious, a trait that had earned you more than a few comparisons to the infamous ravenclaw stereotype, but you didn’t mind. knowledge was your passion, your escape, and you dove into your studies with the same enthusiasm that others reserved for quidditch or wizard chess. you enjoyed the challenge of a difficult spell, the satisfaction of mastering a complex potion, and the thrill of discovering a new piece of magical / muggle theory.

and mattheo noticed.

he had been watching you for weeks now, his dark eyes often drifting toward your usual spot in the library when he was supposed to be focusing on his own work. it had become a habit, really — one that he found both endearing and a little worrying. while others were out enjoying the spring weather, laughing with friends, or practicing on the quidditch pitch, you were here, nose buried in a book, fingers ink-stained from hours of scribbling notes.

it wasn’t that mattheo didn’t understand your drive. on the contrary, he admired it. he had seen the way your eyes lit up when you finally understood a difficult concept, the way you would smile to yourself after writing an essay you were particularly proud of. it was one of the things he loved about you — how your passion for learning was as fierce and unyielding as any fire. but he also worried about you, about how much you pushed yourself, how often you skipped meals and sacrificed your sleep or lost track of time because you were so absorbed in your studies.

today was no different. as he approached the library, he wasn’t surprised to see you sitting in your usual spot by the window, the late afternoon light casting a golden glow over your figure. you were hunched over a particularly thick textbook, your brow furrowed in concentration as you chewed absentmindedly on the end of your quill, a cozy sweater enveloping your focused figure.

mattheo leaned against a bookshelf for a moment, just watching you. there was something about the way you worked, the quiet determination that radiated from you, that filled him with an odd sense of pride. you were relentless in your pursuit of knowledge, always pushing yourself to be better, to know more. it was inspiring, really — how someone could be so dedicated, so passionate. and though he wasn’t the best with words, he wanted you to know how much he appreciated that about you.

pushing off the doorframe, mattheo made his way over to your table, the soft sound of his footsteps alerting you to his presence. you looked up, surprised, your quill pausing mid-sentence as you took in the sight of him standing there, hands in his pockets, a small, affectionate smile playing on his lips.

“hey,” you greeted softly, setting your quill down as you stretched out your fingers that have been writing for hours now. “what brings you here?”

mattheo shrugged, his eyes flicking over the array of books spread out before you. “just wanted to see how you’re doing. you’ve been at it for hours.”

a sheepish smile tugged at your lips as you glanced at the library clock, realizing he was right. “i guess i lost track of time, sorry.”

“again,” the slytherin boy added, his tone teasing but laced with genuine concern. he pulled out the chair next to you and sat down, his knee brushing against yours under the table. “you know, it’s okay to take a break sometimes. the world won’t end if you don’t finish that chapter tonight. ”

you sighed, leaning back in your chair as you looked at him. “i know, but there’s just so much to do. exams are coming up, and i want to make sure i’m ready.”

mattheo reached out, taking one of your hands in his. his thumb brushed over the ink stains on your fingers, a small smile appearing on his lips. “you’re always ready. you’ve been studying harder than anyone else i know. but you don’t have to do it all at once, okay? you’re allowed to take care of yourself too.”

“who cares if i’m pretty if i fail my finals?”

“you’re so much more than that. and you’re not going to fail, love. but you need to listen to me.”

his words, though simple, hit you with a warmth that spread through your chest. it wasn’t that you didn’t know he cared — it was in the little things he did, the way he always brought you coffee when he knew you’d been up late, or the way he would sit with you in the library even if he had no work of his own, just to keep you company. but hearing it out loud, the way he expressed his concern for you, made your heart swell.

“okay,” glancing at the stack of book in front of you that still needed attention, you hesitated for a bit. but when you saw the expression on his face, you made up your mind. “let’s take a short brake.”

“that’s my clever girl.”

you let your boyfriend lead you out of the comfort of the school library, his slender fingers sneakily intertwining with yours to keep you close to him. the cool air hit your face the moment you stepped outside, and for the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe again. the tension in your system began to slowly disappear as you leaned closer to mattheo’s side, his warmth enveloping you in a new kind of comfort.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Only One

Hi guys!

So this is a short one coming from a request I had several weeks ago.

I hope you will all like it and please let me know what you think about it! Also my box for request is very open ☺️

Enjoy!

TW : None, it’s just fluff honestly

Jana and you were both young when you met her. You were around 13 years old and when you move from Valencia to Barcelona, you find yourself in Jana’s class. She wasn’t the first who came to talk to you, being a little shy. But you can’t hold it against her, you were shy yourself and you didn’t want to bother anyone.

But soon you started to talk, and you find that you have a lot in common. Unless that she was a huge fan of football while you literally preferred staying at home with a good book and listening to music. Jana was already training at “La Masia” when you met her and when she invites you to come to one of her games, you gladly accept.

You remember being impressed by the level of those girls, fighting for the ball and the game. You were scared for Jana at first before realizing that she was one of the best. You were really proud of her, and you didn’t hesitate to tell her when she came to you after the game.

You were passing all your day after school with her, studying while she was training before going to her home in the afternoon. You sometimes sleep at her home but not a lot because your parents will sometimes remember you that “you are not living in a hotel!”.

Your first kiss happened one summer night on the beach during your summer break. You remember how much you were nervous before pressing your lips against hers, scared that you will ruin everything that was existing between you. Because Jana was your everything in your fifteen years old world.

You are not fifteen anymore, but Jana is still your everything.

You are still together, of course, still living in Barcelona. Jana chose to follow her dreams to become a footballer and even if you didn’t understand at first who the hell is that Alexia Putellas who took your girlfriend under her wings and what in the world she wanted from her, you are now the proudest girlfriend in the world.

It wasn’t easy for Jana to make her place in Barcelona Femeni A team, but she’s now a part of the family. You are both very focused in your professional life, Jana in her sport and you were studying to become pediatrician. It was hard because you don’t really have the same timetable at first, so having time together was very complicated. It was strange honestly, because you were used to be with her every single hour of the day when you were both at school and now you have to fight to be able to have lunch with her.

But then she asks you to move in with her and it was better. Your first apartment was very little. Located at the top of a building, under the roof, you had managed to fit a sofa, a TV, a wardrobe and a kitchen-dining area in a single room. Separate from the bathroom. But you were together and that was all you wanted. You loved this place, it was messy and small, but it was yours and it was perfect.

And, at least, you were seeing her every night, unless she’s in other part of the country for a game. You go to see her playing as much as possible, always wearing the jersey with her name and number on it. You are known as Jana’s girlfriend in the team and the girls like you very much too.

You have move in another apartment now, though. Bigger, you have your bedroom separate of the living room and you have a guest room where you putted your desk and computer to study.

You usually study or work when Jana is at training but tonight you lost track of time. You have a big thing to write for the end of the week and you are scared not to be able to finish it. Totally focused on your work, you didn’t hear Jana coming back home.

You almost jump out of your skin when the silhouette of your girlfriend appears on the door of your office.

“Sorry Baby, I didn’t want to scare you” she excuse herself while joining you inside the room. “Are you ok?”

“I’m ok” you smile at her, kissing her softly when she sits on your lap. “How was training?”

“It was great. Have you eaten something?”

“Not really” you answer, scratching the back of your head.

It was your turn to make diner tonight and it’s almost eight o’clock. And you are not sure about what you will find in your fridge. Jana might be starving after running and exercising all the afternoon while you were studying and you really feel guilty.

“I’m so sorry Amor, I didn’t realize it was so late. I’m going to start cooking right now.”

You close your computer while trying to stand up, kind of startling Jana with your abrupt movements. She just has time to grab you by your arm, making you stay still. With her 1m62 Jana is smaller than you but thanks to her exercises she’s stronger than you.

“Breath Baby, it’s ok. I will cook for us, why don’t you go take a bath or something? You look very tense.”

“But it’s my turn” you frown.

“You can cook two times next week” Jana shrugs.

She cups your jaw in her hand, and you could literally melt right now. You are still feeling guilty though, she just had training all day.

“Can we at least order something? So I can pay and you don’t have to cook? Please.”

She seems to hesitate for several seconds, but you give her your best puppy eyes and she finally accept. Not without rolling her eyes. After ordering some pizza, you were thinking about waiting for them in front of television. But Jana seems to have another idea.

She takes you by the hand once again, but to go to your bedroom this time. Without saying one word, she pushes you on your bed before sitting on your lap.

“Have we really time for that?” you smirk, looking at her leaning on her nightstand.

“Silence, you pervert” she smirks putting a finger on your lips. “Close your eyes.”

Still smiling, you close your eyes.

“Can I at least know what will happen to me?”

“Nothing wild. I’m just going to take care of you, that’s all.”

That doesn’t help a lot, but soon Jana is moving, and she just announce you that she will put something wet on your face before doing it. She is very tender while washing your face before putting different types of cream and moister on your face. You let her do it, loving to feel her hands on your face.

She’s so lightweight that you almost don’t feel her sitting on your belly. But you can smell her perfume and you feel yourself being completely relax. You are almost asleep when she kisses your hair, announcing that she’s finish.

“Hug now” you reach for her.

Jana cuddle against you without a second thought and you pass your arms around her to hug her harder.

“How was training mi Amor?” you ask, realizing with guilt that you didn’t even in the first place.

“It was great! I mean, until Mapi…”

You smile, listening her talk about her teammate’s behavior. She then switches for another story, and you keep listening. You take the opportunity to look at her, your cute and precious girlfriend not realizing that you totally are starring at her without really listening. You are together for seven years now, getting together pretty young. But you are still so in love with her, and you don’t want that feeling to fade away.

She was explaining Barca’s next strategy when the bell rings, announcing the arrival of your pizzas. You escape Jana’s arms to go take them before going in the living room.

“What do you want to watch?” Jana asks, looking in your Netflix account to find something.

“I don’t care” you shrug, opening the boxes.

Jana rolls her eyes but manages to find something, before sitting next to you and pick a part of pizza. She seems so relax and happy that you feel your heart pounding harder just while looking at her. She’s just so perfect.

Well, until…

“Jana Fernández Velasco , please tell me this isn’t pineapple on your pizza.”

[wooattackrr]

Opposites Attract

MDNI

word count: 1,704

a/n: as I was writing this I realised most of my fics are school plot

——————————————————————

You had always been the studious one, the kind of student who could ace exams without breaking a sweat. Mingyu, on the other hand, was the quintessential class clown—loud, unpredictable, and always the center of attention. His antics had made him a legend in your high school, but you never expected the two of you would ever spend time together outside of class.

However, that all changed when the teacher announced mandatory tutoring sessions for struggling students. To your surprise, the person assigned to your group was none other than Mingyu himself. You were apprehensive about it at first; after all, you knew how he could be. Would he be serious about his studies, or just use the time as another opportunity for jokes and laughter?

The first few sessions were exactly what you expected. Mingyu would arrive with a quick grin and a barrage of puns that could make anyone groan. You would roll your eyes and get back to work, trying to make the most of your time with him. But slowly, as the days passed, you began to appreciate his humor more. Beneath the façade of the class clown, you discovered a more thoughtful side to Mingyu. He wanted to improve, and with your help, he actually started to.

Your meetings eventually shifted from awkward and frustrating to enjoyable and filled with banter. You would laugh at his silly jokes and tease him about his notorious reputation, while he would engage attentively with the material, even occasionally asking for clarification on topics he found difficult. It was surprising how he could change from a playful joker to a focused student in the span of just a few minutes.

One Wednesday afternoon, as winter settled in and the sun began to set early, you both found yourselves deep into a particularly challenging math problem in the quiet confines of the local library. You were seated at a large, wooden table illuminated by the soft glow of a desk lamp, surrounded by bookshelves stacked high with novels and textbooks.

"Okay, explain this part again," Mingyu said, resting his head on one hand, his expression half-focused, half-exasperated. Your fingers traced the numbers on the paper as you explained the concept of quadratic equations.

“Imagine it like a jump,” you said, enthusiastically drawing an exaggerated parabola in the air with your free hand. “When you throw a ball, it goes up, then comes down. The highest point is the maximum value, and the whole trajectory is shaped like a curve, just like this.”

Mingyu mimicked your hand movements, a smirk dancing on his lips. “So you’re saying if I throw a ball really hard, I’ll pass this math test?”

You laughed. “If only it were that simple.”

The hours flew by, marked only by the ticking clock on the wall and the occasional rustle of paper. You had both lost track of time. It wasn't until the library announced its closing for the night that you realized how late it had gotten.

"Oh no, we're locked in!" Mingyu exclaimed, looking around furtively as you both realized the entrance doors were indeed shut tight. "What are we going to do? We’ll be trapped here forever!"

“Calm down,” you said, trying to mask your unease with a shrug. “We’ll just wait for someone to come back and let us out.”

“Yeah, right,” Mingyu said, plopping down in a chair dramatically. “I’d probably just start doing my stand-up routine to keep myself entertained until then.”

The playful banter continued as you both settled into the unexpected situation, and soon, you found yourselves in a comfortable silence surrounded by the stories that lined the walls of the library. But in that quiet moment, Mingyu turned to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Since it’s just us here, do you want to hear a secret?” he asked, leaning closer with intrigue. There was a moment of tension, a thin line drawn between the humor and seriousness you both shared.

“A secret? From you?” you teased. “I’m not sure I trust you to keep it.”

Mingyu feigned offense. “I promise! No jokes. Just… honest.”

“Alright, then,” you said, your interest piqued. “Let’s hear it.”

“I think you’re really smart,” he said, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. “And I mean, smart-smart. Like, you get all the answers and I can barely figure out which number comes next.”

You blinked, taken aback by the honesty in that statement. “That’s sweet of you to say, but it’s just studying.”

"But you study because you care," he replied, sincerity etched on his face. “You don’t just do it to get grades… you want to help others, too.”

His gaze was steady, and for a moment, the classroom antics and the laughter faded away. It was just the two of you—Mingyu and you caught in an unexpected act of vulnerability. You felt a warmth rise within you, something you hadn’t anticipated.

“Mingyu…” you began, unsure of where this conversation was leading. But before you could finish your thought, he shifted closer, the distance between you shrinking until it felt electric.

“Mingyu!” you exclaimed, half in surprise, half in protest, yet your heart raced with an excitement you couldn’t quite analyze.

“I’ve been thinking…” he murmured, inching even closer, his face a mere breath away from yours. “Maybe I’ve been hiding behind jokes and laughter… but I really like spending time with you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as his honesty washed over you. It was unexpected but refreshing. In that moment, the world around you melted away until it was just the two of you, the quiet library filled with unspoken possibilities.

And then he leaned in.

The kiss was tentative at first, a gentle exploration filled with the hope and curiosity that had been building up over your shared laughter and late-night study sessions. As his lips brushed against yours, the world seemed to stand still. It felt like the climax of a romantic movie—two unlikely characters drawn together by the most unexpected circumstances, finding a connection they never knew was possible.

When you finally pulled away, both of you breathless, you knew that this moment would redefine everything. Mingyu’s expression shifted from the playful, buoyant energy that was so familiar to him to an earnest vulnerability that left you speechless.

With newfound determination, you guided his hand back to where you had left off. As his fingers traced the sensitive folds of your skin, you couldn't help but moan in delight. He teased and pleasured you until your body was quivering with anticipation.

Just as you were about to reach your peak, Mingyu gently turned you around and lowered you onto one of the library tables. The bookshelves loomed over you, their silent pages bearing witness to your stolen passion. Mingyu entered you slowly and deliberately, his every thrust setting off fireworks within your body.

You cried out in ecstasy as he filled you completely. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, his hips moving in a rhythmic dance that sent shockwaves through both of you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer until you could feel every inch of his hardness within you.

The climax hit you both like a tidal wave. You screamed out in pleasure as Mingyu's seed erupted deep inside of you, mingling with your own sweet fluids. He collapsed on top of you, exhausted but still buzzing with the afterglow of your shared passion.

As you lay there entwined in each other's arms, you realized that your hidden love for Mingyu had blossomed into something more profound. It was a love that transcended the confines of the library and the boundaries of your wildest dreams.

With the first glimmer of dawn, Mingyu helped you to your feet and kissed you softly. 'I never would have imagined this,' he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. 'But I'm so glad it happened.'

You smiled up at him, your heart filled with a joy that you had never known. 'Me too, Mingyu,' you replied. 'Me too.'


——————————————————————

fromis comeback !

[spadesolace]

mine - college au! chaeryeong x fem! reader

chaeryeong is sweet girl with no ill intentions but you're both unsure what to do anymore once you've crossed the line of friends and dating.

warning/s: mentions of drinking, suggestive, friends with benefits

words: 2.1k

what’s it like to keep falling after being caught time and time again?

there she stood in the middle of the dance floor as you held both your drinks as your friends and hers celebrated the night before valentine’s day at a club. why did you even agree to this?

chaeryeong had to persuade you into coming, considering it was your friend group that decided to merge and go out together. oh right… partially it’s because of her.

you’ve lost count on how many shots you’ve done or how many glasses of gin and tonic is in your system. mouth sealed as people try to flirt with her and fortunately for you, she’s breaking their hearts left and right. one last attempt to celebrate valentine’s with someone.

“dude, she’s gonna melt if you keep looking at her like that.” minjeong nudges you to shake you up and not possibly start a fight in the club just because someone is flirting with chaeryeong.

“i want her to look at me. her drink is so fucking diluted now.” the cocktail she got is mostly water at this point while you’re getting another shot being offered to you.

“she’s looking at you after she rejects those losers. seriously, i thought your whole whatever the fuck is going on between you two would be settled.” you thought so as well, how did this thing even happen? you weren’t like this months ago and here you are thinking back on how the hell does she have you on a chokehold.

it was one of those nights that chaeryeong wanted to sleep over at your place, knowing that you don’t share your room with anyone or how you don’t mind her being there as you work on whatever homework you have. she’s quiet in your bed as she’s reading for her class and you’re on the verge of calling it a night. chaeryeong has been keeping track of your movement, making her lose focus when she could have been studying but she’s looking at you and averting them is she thinks you’re gonna look at her or face her way.

her face is buried in her book as you continue what you’re doing, taking quick glances at chaeryeong before you walk out of the room to get yourself something to relieve the stress. coming back holding a bottle of soju and a glass and noticing the way chaeryeong’s nose scrunches if she doesn’t understand a term or how focused she is at reading.

“do you want a drink?” chaeryeong doesn’t know how you got that bottle of soju when you were just studying a few minutes ago on your desk that was close to where she was. she lost track of you for a bit.

“on a school night, really?” you rolled your eyes as you took a glass and poured yourself some and placed it back on your desk. sitting next to her as you wait for some sort of reaction or confirmation that she wants to. her hand reaches out asking for your glass, she’s not one to finish a drink alone, knowing that she gets drunk easily.

“if you finish my glass, i swear to god, lee chaeryeong-” pouring another shot of soju, thinking if you should get a can of beer and mix it.

“you and i both know i’m going to drink whatever you have.” she’s thinking the same thing as she stands up and makes her way to the kitchen like she owns the place.

“then you complain how strong it tastes.” you follow her, holding the glass and the bottle of soju and setting it in the living room where she pours the beer onto the one glass you’ve been sharing.

“stop getting strong drinks then.” she takes the glass and chugs it as she gently places it back on the table with a smug look.

“work on your tolerance first.” pouring yourself a drink as her smug look is wiped out of her face.

chaeryeong is a lightweight, you know this as she finishes another glass and is already laughing at whatever you two are talking about but who are you to complain. getting quite touchy and leaning on you as she reaches for your glass but you stop her and finish the drink. even if you’re a bit tipsy and she’s close to being blackout drunk, your priority is to stop her from going past her limit.

she’s looking at you with a pout as you keep the glass away from her, reaching out and leaning herself onto you, faces inches away from each other, and you’re looking at her lips while she’s looking at yours. halfway through the bantering of her being a lightweight and trying to prove herself to you, now on the verge of either kissing each other or stopping entirely and calling it a night. 

whatever it was, chaeryeong made the first move, kissing you with such gentleness at first as you let the shock die down and kiss her back. in the back of your mind, you’re brushing this off as you’re both intoxicated, not in the right mind and it’s just the mood of your place. there’s also the other part of you that doesn’t care about what happens.

that wasn’t the case when you woke up the following day, seeing how you’re both holding each other close with a small headache. this is normal between you and chaeryeong who sleep next to each other when she comes over but a part of you is aware it isn’t. noticing how your clothes are scattered everywhere on the floor, and her neck is covered in lovebites. even double checking under the blanket to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

part of you was panicking because this is your friend who you’ve grown to care so much for. the same girl that you met freshman year of college who you believe is such a sweetheart and wouldn’t do such a thing if she were intoxicated let alone be the one to initiate all of this.

chaeryeong feels you moving in her embrace and tries her best to stop you while you’re in the middle of having a mental crisis. it didn’t help that she kisses you in the lips that you’ve fully stopped your thought process and look at her who is just smiling as if she doesn’t have the worst headache of her life.

“the fuck, chaer?”

“don’t act like you hate it.”

that’s how it started, sneaking around and kissing each other in private, acting like a couple and lying to your friends that chaeryeong is nothing but a friend. well- that was it, a friends with benefits scenario with her and a part of you is slowly dying as this keeps on going. if it weren’t for minjeong walking in on you two kissing at a party, she wouldn’t have known this entire thing.

within the 3 months this situation you have with chaeryeong has been going on, you know you’ve grown to like the girl more than you’d like to admit. the first rule of the deal was no strings attached, no feelings, because this started because you’re both lonely, right?

a part of you thinks it’s more than just being lonely, hoping that chaeryeong has grown to like you but won’t admit it. delusional, but how could anyone explain the possessiveness when some girl flirts with you, or how she’s stuck by your side and talks about the future and telling you that you’re a part of it in some way. you’re tired of the push and pull and want her to be full on honest but how could that happen when you’re so close to each other yet it feels like she’s miles away.

you keep your gaze on chaeryeong dancing as you’re left with minjeong a bit intoxicated and having the need to go out and think things through. valentine’s was a few hours away and here you are at a club holding a diluted drink and an empty glass. placing the glass on the table, letting minjeong know you’re heading out first to get some fresh air but in reality you plan on heading home and not wallow much in the pain that is in the shape of lee chaeryeong.

she’s dancing with her friends but her gaze never left yours as she watches you take your stuff and leave your friend on the table. you’re not looking at her as the bouncer lets you out - she stops and looks at minjeong, panicking and signalling to her friends that she’s gonna head out for a bit. she hopes you haven’t walked that far or taken a bus back to your place but she’s running to you with your head low and kicking a random pebble.

“Y/N!” turning around, you see chaeryeong running at you and into your arms holding you close while you’re a bit concerned as she chased after you without a coat in the middle of winter. taking yours off and letting it drape on her shoulders as she holds you closer.

“you should head back in there.” you feel she shaking her head as you hold her close, letting the snowflakes drop as you try to find a way to make her go back and continue talking to whoever was flirting with her.

“we’re going home together. you can’t just leave me having fun there-”

“chaer, it’s fine - not like we’re dating..,”  a bit of a low blow but it’s the truth. why would she chase after you if she was the only one having fun while you’re in pain. how could you tell her that you need some sort of answer or label to whatever this is because you’re sure this isn’t just a friends with benefits when you’re acting like a couple in private without much of the benefits.

“just go back… ask ryujin to drive you home.”

“i said, we’re going home together. that’s final.”

you’re tired of the push and pull. whatever this is. because how come she’s reacting like this when there’s no strings attached.

“i wanna end this.” chaeryeong is taken aback, weren’t you happy before you left for the party? kissing her before stepping out and all of a sudden you want to stop. you also weren’t the best - chaeryeong has been nothing but confused because of you as you act clingy to her in private and ignore her in public. playing the push and pull, but that was expected because she made the rules.

no feelings. no public display of affection, and no one has to know (aside from minjeong).

“fine.”

“the fuck yo- hold on. you’re fine with us ending things?”

she nods and let’s go of you, there’s some space in between but not like those where the other person runs for it and you just hear nothing from them but she’s close. looking at you straight and holding you by the chin to make sure you’re looking directly at her.

“under one condition.” you raise your eyebrow, letting her continue as you can’t really think much when there’s alcohol running in your system and all you wanna do is kiss her.

“tell me that you love me. even if you don’t - just tell me that you love me.”

everything that involves lee chaeryeong leaves you confused and asking for some sort of clarity but it’s part of her charm and hearing that absurd request - it would be easy because you do love her.

“i love you.”

she let’s you go, moving back a bit with a sad smile on her face as she turns around and starts to walk away. you’re left in the cold as she slowly leaves you alone as if time stopped, contemplating on to pour your entire heart out or go home. this could be your last time seeing her if you don’t let her know your true feelings and how much you’re dying to tell her that you've fallen for her.

”i love you - to the point you take my breath away and i’m left here suffocating when you’re far away as if you’re oxygen that my body needs. it’s killing me seeing you in public and stopping myself from running towards you and just kiss you to stop them from flirting with you and - i wanted to end this because- “ you pause, taking a deep breath as chaeryeong is facing you with glossy eyes, holding your coat close to her small figure.

“i want to date you, not like this - the push and pull is killing me, chaer. please-”

“shut up and kiss me.”

she ran towards you throwing your coat on the ground and kissing you like the same way when it started. a kiss that’s so gentle but she’s pouring her heart out for you to reciprocate.

chaeryeong knows that you’re already hers, she just needed you to say it.

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

The Purple Sign. Part VII

Self-Aware! Fukuzawa Yukichi x GN! Reader

Description: There's The Purple Sign on your door. Part VII.

Hurt/Comfort. Fukuzawa pampering

Warning: OOC. Alcohol. English is my second language.

________

It was midnight.

You wanted to drink some water.

And you found Fukuzawa Yukichi in the kitchen. Fukuzawa, dressed in his signature yukata and haori, was sitting at the kitchen table with a bottle of sake in front of him. Fukuzawa held a cup of sake in one hand.

This made you worry. Fukuzawa? Drinking alone? In the middle of the night?

The problem wasn't in the alcohol. It's not like you don't have any in the storage room. It used both for cooking and as a beverage.

Moreover, Fukuzawa and Fukuchi do drink together from time to time. For a moment, you thought, that you stumbled on one of their drink times, while Fukuchi wasn't in the kitchen, but, after taking a second look on the table, you abandoned that idea.

There was only one sake cup.

Fukuzawa was drinking alone in the middle of the night. That what was concerning.

It was unusual for Fukuzawa to drink his sorrows away.

"Are you... okay, [Y/N]? You froze in the middle of the step." Fukuzawa's voice was soft and tried. You hesitated, before answering.

"I am fine. I just... thought about something."

Fukuzawa only hummed, staring into a distance again.

You took a pitcher from the table and pour water in your glass.

While drinking your water, you studied Fukuzawa's face and posture.

It was another concerning sigh.

Fukuzawa always looked presentable. His clothes, no matter, what he wears, be it his signature yukata and haori, or something more... non-attention--of-this-world's-people-grabbing, always looked neat and clean. But, right now, his clothes looked wrinkled. And as for Fukuzawa himself... There were bags beneath his eyes. The long gray hair, that seemed almost dull, looked unkempt.

You step closer to Fukuzawa and put your hand on his shoulder.

"And you, Yukichi... Are you okay?" you couldn't help it, but cast a quick glance at the sake bottle. It was almost full. Perhaps, he only had one cup, before your arrival.

Fukuzawa jerked slightly, lost in his own thoughts apparently, and slowly nodded.

"I am fine. You don't need to worry." Fukuzawa frowned, then chuckled in a poor showing of forced joviality. "Really, I am fine."

He cast a quick glance at your face. You still looked worried. And, apparently, Fukuzawa noticed, that your attention was focused on a bottle of alcohol. Yukichi sighed and stand up, holding a bottle of sake in one hand and a cup un other. The cup was quickly put in a sink, and, after turning on his heels, Fukuzawa headed towards the exit from the kitchen. Swordsman spoke.

"I have lost the track of time. I'm already going to bed. Good night, [Y/N]."

He left. The house was quiet enough for you to hear, how the basement door was opened. Fukuzawa returned sake into the storage.

You bit your lip. He wasn't fine. But You loved everyone from BSD Cast, but, some of your new friends were so stubborn. Especially, when their situation called for the use of The Purple Sign.

The Purple Sign was an accessory and an important symbol at the same time.

It was an accessory, because, with or without it, you would help your friends, if they are feeling down.

It was an important symbol, because handing it on your bedroom door means, that starting from that moment members of BSD Gang can be vulnerable. The Purple Sign on your door means, that you can't be disturbed by others if it's not an emergency. Because all your attention is focused on making one person feel special and appreciated again.

But, some of your friends, refused to use the Purple Sign or simply reaching out to you and ask for help. Someone, like Dazai, were afraid to be vulnerable and show their emotions. Someone feel ashamed of their negative thoughts. And someone feel terrible by going to you. Because, they thought that they were bothering you.

Fukuzawa Yukichi was one of this people.

He is used to looking after people of Yokohama, making sure, that peace is maintained. He is used to looking after Armed Detective Agency, making sure, that its members are safe and sound.

You mindlessly wash your glass and Fukuzawa's cup. You were lost in thoughts.

You had a rule you follow while pampering BSD Cast. Don't cause kindness and inflict good. Don't force anyone to open up, to you or to others.

But, before stepping aside, you need to step forward.

You looked at the ceiling. There must be something you can do, to make Fukuzawa feel a little better.

Well, you don't need The Purple Sign to pamper Fukuzawa.

Before going to bed, you left a note on a special desk for notes you have in a kitchen.

A note, asking people who will cook breakfast at the morning, to wake you up.

You have a breakfast to one swordman to make.

____

Cooking duty was a great way to share rumors. You had a nice chat with Kunikida, Atsushi and Junchirou. You manage to prove, that no one from ADA has been feeling under the weather. At least, Fukuzawa's condition didn't came from worrying about his employees.

You made enough food for two of you.

_____

You were holding a bed-tray with plates, full of breakfast food, and two steaming cups with green tea. You were ready to knock (okay, to lightly kick) on Fukuzawa's door, when the door was opened. And you came face to chest with Fukuzawa.

"Morning, Yukichi!" greeted you, smiling and looking up.

Fukuzawa looked slightly better, then he looked at night, but, still, his hair and eyes looked dull. Fukuzawa looked tired.

"[Y/N]? Good morning. What are you..." Fukuzawa raised an eyebrow. You hold the tray with breakfast higher.

"Breakfast" simply stated you. Fukuzawa blinked. Then took the tray from you.

"Thank you." Fukuzawa's eyes soften. You quickly respond.

"No problems." You took one of the cups from the tray. In case, if Fukuzawa didn't want company, you could simply leave with your tea. It seems, that Fukuzawa noticed your little 'maneuver' and step aside.

"There is enough for two. Want to share it with me?"

You nodded and step in Fukuzawa's room.

Fukuzawa sat on his bed, motion for you to sit near him. You quickly join him.

On the tray, were two bowls with rise porridge, plate of fluffy Japanese pancakes, plate with rolled omelettes, and saucer with fruit sandwiches.

The breakfast was spent in comfortable silence. In the middle of eating his pancakes, Fukuzawa spoke.

"[Y/N], you really shouldn't be worried about me. I will manage on my own." You made a generous sip of your tea, before answer.

"I should. Because you are my friend. I care about you. I worry about you." You looked Fukuzawa in the eyes. He didn't say anything. You spoke again.

"If you want- And only if you want! - Later we can go together to a cat café. The new one has opened two weeks ago." You reach towards Fukuzawa's hair and carefully take one strand between your fingers. "Or I could brush your hair. Only if you want it."

Fukuzawa didn't answer, taking a rolled omelette.

The room was silent again.

The silence were broken by clink of flatware against plates.

When you two finish eating, you pick up the tray with dirty dishes, planing to bring it to the kitchen. Before you left the room, you heard Fukuzawa's voice.

"I would love to visit the cat café with you. And hair brushing sounds nice."

A little smile appears on your face.

_____

Someone knock on your door.

You looked up from the book, got up from the bean bag chair and headed towards the door.

Fukuzawa was standing on your doorstep.

"I am ready, [Y/N]."

You smiled and asked.

"What do you want to do first? Go to a café? Or me brush your hair?"

Fukuzawa closed his eyes and spoke.

"Hair brushing."

You nodded and went to the emergency shelf. You took a hairbrush from it.

For the next thirty minutes, Fukuzawa was sitting on his knees, while you carefully brush his hair. You tried your best untangling knots.

When you finished, Fukuzawa looked at you. He slowly put his hand on your head and slowly pat your head.

"Thank you, kitten."

You feel, how your cheeks became warm. Fukuzawa rarely called you by a nickname, so, you still haven't used to it.

"Um... No problem..." Fukuzawa chuckled.

"So, to the cat café?"

______

Only four customers were in a cat café right now (including Fukuzawa and you). So, you two can play with almost all cats from the café.

You had a little tabby cat on your lap. And Fukuzawa was holding a Siamese cat, cooing at it.

You try not to laugh, noticing other customers' and workers' gazes they sent at your way. To be precise, towards Fukuzawa.

Fukuzawa Yukichi is an imposing man. He is taller, then you, and his face has a permanent strict expression. He is muscular and, you knew, that he is quite powerful. You are pretty sure, that he can throw you across the yard and don't break a sweat.

And this man was cooing at the small cat.

And, as you remembered, your contact name in his phone is "Must resist the urge to pet".

Fukuzawa's eyes soften slightly. He spoke, talking to the cat.

"Little buddy, have you seen a cinnamon bun? I couldn't find it."

You were confused. What cinnamon bun? As long as you knew, there weren't any cinnamon buns in the café.

Cat mewed. Fukuzawa chuckled and, suddenly, booped your nose. He looked you in the eyes. His face expression was soft. He was smiling.

"Here it is. A cinnamon bun." Fukuzawa chuckled. "A kitten"

You hide your face in your hands. You were sure, that it became so warm, that you can heat frozen food on it.

_____

"I won't say I feel broken, or overwhelmed." explained Fukuzawa, walking down the street with you. "I am simply felt... tried. All the work I must do to establish ADA in this world... It's tiering. I did ask Fitzgerald for help, but, I still must do most of the work."

You hummed. Fukuzawa faced an emotional burnout. Well, you are sure, that you can deal with it.

"You really need lessons in time management, Yukichi. Well, nevertheless..." You stopped and place your hand on Fukuzawa's hand. "You can always count on me. If you feel tired, if you feel burnt out. Just came to me."

You gave Fukuzawa's hand a little squeeze. Swordsman squeeze your hand in return.

______

Fukuzawa, dressed in comfy clothes, was, once again, sitting on his lap on your room's floor. You were massaging his shoulders, wearing a pair of kitten paw mittens. Currently, they were the only thing that you have in Fukuzawa's drawer in emergency shelf.

Purple lights were on.

The Purple Sign was on your bedroom's door.

Fukuzawa sighs and stretched. He raised up and, suddenly, picked you up. In one motion, he took off your kitten paw mittens and start softly massage your hands.

"Your hands are soft. Like real kitten paws." Fukuzawa laughed quietly. You let out an incoherent noise. Fukuzawa chuckled and kissed your nose.

"And you are as cute, as a kitten."

______

This night you sleep, laying on Fukuzawa's chest. His hands slowly run up and down your back. He looked much better.

And it makes you happy.

[way2gowillow]

Toshinori couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew exactly how high Midoriya’s academic standards were. The memory of being buried in challenging schoolwork himself wasn’t a fond one, and he didn’t envy the poor boy at all.

   “I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

   “That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

   Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation. 

Dadmight week has ended officially, but I managed to squeak out one last submission before the deadline. :') wish I could've submitted more honestly, if I had more time. @dadmightweek

Day 2: Homework/Take a Break

   Midoriya flipped through his assigned reading for what felt like the umpteenth time. He’d been buried in the book since 4 p.m., and his weary eyes drifted to the clock on his desk—8 p.m. He’d endured much longer study sessions before, but this particular assignment seemed to drag on endlessly. The book, Hero's Jurisdiction and Quirk Responsibility, wasn’t exactly riveting, and Snipe’s assignment to read chapters 3 and 4 had turned into a tedious slog when he realized he was falling behind.

  Only thirty… no, thirty-five… wait, thirty-seven pages left. He sighed, his tired eyes struggling to focus on the dense text. The letters blurred together as he tried to absorb each new piece of information, but the words felt heavy and lifeless, his mind drifting as he mechanically read on.

   “As discussed in chapter 2, Amendment 47 faced significant challenges in passing through the judicial system, with numerous quirk users staunchly defending their right to obtain licenses. The rejection of Amendment 23 and its subsequent impact on…” 

   Izuku’s eyes glazed over as he read the dry, lifeless text. He flipped through the remaining pages, his hope dwindling as he counted them. Thirty-six and a half more to go.

   He sighed in frustration, the words on the page blurring together, lost in a storm of paralegal jargon swirling in his tired mind. Footsteps echoed from the hallway, but he didn’t bother to check. He’d left his door open for a bit of fresh air, though even that seemed to do little to revive his focus. He was usually good at tuning out distractions, but now his eyes were so dry, he was half-tempted to ask Aizawa for his special eye drops.

   Come on. Just thirty-six more pages.

   He forced himself to read another paragraph, but his mind refused to stay focused. 

   What did I just read?

   Shaking his head, he tried again, managing to get a bit farther before the dense terminology tripped him up again. His thoughts drifted, and by the time he reached the end of the page, he realized he hadn’t absorbed a single word.

   What??

   With a frustrated groan, he let his highlighter slip from his fingers and dropped his head onto the desk in defeat.

   “At this rate, Kaminari’s gonna have to shock me back to life after I die of boredom,” he muttered, his voice muffled by the wood.

   A familiar, warm chuckle from the doorway made him lift his head, turning toward the sound.

   His mentor stood there, casually leaning against the doorframe in house slippers and sweatpants, his eyes filled with amused sympathy.

   “Bored to death, huh?” he echoed with a smile. Izuku perked up at the sight of him, grateful for the distraction from the tedious assignment.

   “Hey, All Might,” Izuku greeted, doing his best to muster up his usual chipper tone. “Didn’t notice you there.”

   “Well, the other boys mentioned you didn’t come down for dinner, so I thought I’d check on you,” All Might replied with a teasing smile. “I could hear the gears in your head grinding from the common room.”

   “Yeah, sorry about that. I must’ve lost track of time,” Izuku admitted, turning back to his book. He picked up his highlighter and dragged it half-heartedly across a few words. Stress practically radiated off him in waves, and he scratched his head in frustration. 

   Toshinori couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew exactly how high Midoriya’s academic standards were. The memory of being buried in challenging schoolwork himself wasn’t a fond one, and he didn’t envy the poor boy at all.

   “I’ve got 36 pages left. Then I’ll eat,” Izuku muttered, his voice tinged with determination but also fatigue. Toshinori furrowed his brow in concern.

   “That… that might take quite a while, don’t you think?” he ventured gently.

   Izuku sighed deeply, his frustration evident as he let his head fall onto the desk with a thud of resignation. 

   Toshinori moved closer, laying a gentle, reassuring hand on his shoulder. The boy shifted slightly, his head rolling to the side, green curls spilling over the edge of the desk, obscuring the text beneath.

   “Come now,” Toshinori urged softly. “Take a break and have some dinner. You need to take care of yourself before you can tackle your work.” 

   Izuku stared up at him, eyes wavering as he debated whether to give in to his mentor’s advice; the pull of his stubborn determination warring within.

      His stomach answered for him with an embarrassingly loud grumble.

   Toshinori raised his eyebrows, a sly smile playing on his lips. He opened his mouth, ready to deliver the final nudge.

   “I haven’t eaten yet either. I wanted to wait for you.”

   Izuku’s resolve crumbled instantly. With a dramatic sigh, he slammed his textbook shut and rubbed his eyes in mock exasperation. “You can’t do this to me, All Might…!” he protested, his tone light despite his words.

   He quickly moved away from his desk, making a beeline for the door. Toshinori chuckled, the sound warm and genuine, as he joined him outside the dorm room.

—

  The udon noodles simmering in a miso umami broth were exactly what Midoriya needed. As he took his first bite, the savory flavor of the pork mingling with the rich broth seemed to melt away his lingering headache. With each satisfying slurp, the weight of his stress lifted, replaced by a comforting warmth that spread through his chest. Across from him at the table, All Might quietly enjoyed his own bowl of miso and noodles.

   “Wow,” Midoriya exclaimed between bites, his eyes lighting up. “Who made this? It’s amazing!”

   All Might’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “Ah, well… thanks,” he replied, a touch of bashfulness in his voice. “I’ve been picking up cooking lately, you know. Figured…” I want to feed you and care of you and sit down and spend time with you- “...with all this extra time on my hands, why not?”

   Midoriya sits at his bar chair, his legs swinging, kicking back and forth as he eagerly slurped down another helping of soup.

   “Mmmmm!” he hummed in contentment.

   So cute.

   The thought made Toshinori’s heart swell. If cooking for him was this rewarding, he decided he’d definitely make it a regular thing. Rather than reaching out to pinch his freckled cheeks, he simply smiled into his bowl, savoring the last of the broth.

“Don’t mention it,” Toshinori replied warmly.

   With a final, satisfied swallow, Midoriya set his bowl down with a content clink and let out a pleased sigh.

   “That was delicious, All Might. You’ve gotta show me how to make this next time. Maybe even my mom could try it?” he suggested, a bit bashful.

   Taken aback, Toshinori’s eyes widened in surprise, but a genuine smile spread across his face at the thought.

   “Of course! That would be great. I'm sure maybe your mother would rival my cooking.” Toshinori said with a smile.

   Izuku stood up, gathering the empty bowls and chopsticks. “Well, it’s a bit hard to beat Mom’s cooking,” he replied, noticing the fleeting wistfulness in Toshinori’s expression. He must miss Master Shimura, he guesses. Izuku couldn't even imagine the heartache of losing his doting and loving mother any time soon. Shaking his head to dispel the somber thought, he finished gently washing the dishes. Once he was done, he dried his hands and approached Toshinori.

   With a deep bow, he expressed his gratitude. 

   “Thank you Sir. I really needed that tonight. Thank you.” He says earnestly.

   Somehow Toshinori's eyes go wider, and he doesn't know exactly how to respond at the simple gesture of a homecooked meal for his boy.

Even with his head still bowed, Izuku’s growing smile was evident as he leaned into the comforting touch. The small gesture seemed to rejuvenate him, and he dashed back to his studies with renewed energy, making swift progress compared to his earlier sluggish pace.

  With their stomachs and hearts full, both Master and Successor went to bed content, their minds drifting into a peaceful sleep, each wishing sweet dreams across the dreamscape.

[bloodywankers]

Trigger Warning! Yandere behaviour! Toxic Relationships! Slight NSFW! Mention of past injuries!

1.5k words | unedited | Yandere OC

(I don’t think it’s very Yandere, just toxic)

“You know papa doesn’t like it when we make a mess.” Your eldest hushed his younger sibling. A finger to his lips and brows furrowed as he instructed them to not make a ruckus.

Had it been up to you, you’d have wanted them to make a mess. Make as many messes as their little hearts desired, be as loud as they could, even if your ears bled.

But you had little say on the matter. “A wife’s duty was not to contest her husband.” Or so your husband said as he insisted a nanny and tutors would do much better at raising your children than you ever could, he ensured you were as much a stranger to them than he was.

Just there to smile and fret over them when outside the privacy of your home and watch them ushered along by their nannies the moment you were home.

Your heart broke seeing how quickly your younguest stopped in his tracks. Trying his best to pick up the pieces of the ceramic he had broken, trying his best to help his older brother clean, not yet aware of your presence.

Creak.

You cursed the wooden floor as just a shift in your weight alerted them of your gaze. Eyes wide as their little faces drowned in utter dread.

“Mama?”

You couldn’t think of what to say at that moment, the maids probably already heard the noise, they’d be here soon. So you remained silent, carefully kneeling as you picked up as many pieces as you could. Careful to throw them away, leaving as little proof of the accident as possible. Making sure you check both the boys for any injuries. While such a cleanup was futile, your husband meticulously had every last ceramic planned, it wouldn’t take much for him to notice the missing ceramic if the maids didn’t immediately inform him of it. You reckoned it was better than watching their faces filled with terror.

“Madam?” You couldn’t help but jump at the maid who interrupted you, looking up to see her indifferent, if not slightly annoyed expression.

“I apologise, the young masters ran off before I could do anything.” She said, snatching their hands right from yours. She said something about history lessons but you were far too lost in your thoughts by then to care. Your children both looking back towards you, one final time before the nanny rushed them along towards whatever their schedule had in place now. You weren’t sure what to call the look in their eyes.

/

Dinner was always the worst. Every day, without fail at 7pm sharp, you’d all be gathered around a table. Food you were allowed no part in cooking, displayed skillfully in front of you, every last detail taken into account by the cook.

And there you would sit, in front of your husband who seemed more focused on the off placement of the cutlery than anything else, instructing the butler to deal with whoever was in charge of it.

Then polite conversation would take place. Your husband would ask about your day, your children’s, their studies and what-not. Mention something about his own day as well if he was feeling talkative, just passing comments, really.

Back always arched straight and posture stiff, you mustn’t take too big a bite, chew at least 30 times, elbows shouldn’t be on the table… There, you did it again, got lost in your thoughts and drifted off to god knows where.

“You’re slouching.” It was Viktor’s voice that brought you back to reality. So smooth and enticing but you knew better than to be deceived. A quick apology as you straighten your posture again, you didn’t have it in you to look him in the eyes, not when his scrutinising gaze would be waiting for you.

The rest of the dinner was a blur, always the same, without fail.

“I want you two to in office later.” Viktor said, referring to your children. Your youngest gripping his brother's sleeve, the eldest muttering an ‘understood’ before leaving the room. It was a pitiful sight, especially when you couldn’t intervene, not when you met eyes with Viktor, faces with a look that knew exactly what you were thinking.

There was little for you to do during this time so you would read. It was a respectable hobby, one that didn’t earn you criticism from your husband and kept your thoughts at bay. But today you couldn’t help but think of what Viktor had to say to the children.

He was probably informed of the broken vase. It was quite valuable if you remembered correctly. As were most things in the house, you supposed, nothing too special. But you were sure it wasn’t the value your husband was concerned with.

He wouldn’t hit them. You knew that well, your husband wasn’t the type to do that. Not when he insisted on calling the best doctors to help your son through the healing process last time he got injured while playing. It was a common fracture any old doctor could have dealt with but the scarring is what worried him. "What difference would that leave between him and damaged goods?” You thought it to be a cruel thing to say over a measly scar.

He wouldn’t yell either, it was unbecoming. He’s never liked loud noises, whether it be his own voice or otherwise. Always leading to a wince, followed by a stern glare and warning. “I’m sure you were taught to use your indoor voice as a child, no?”

But sometimes you felt like his way of dealing with such matters was much worse. The silence felt like torture, the look in his eyes made you feel small and the calm tone of his voice would be unnerving. You weren’t sure how such young children could handle him when the thought of it had your hands shaking. The heavy rain hit against your window as you looked out the window, a final attempt to distract yourself. It had become a habit to day dream, of a life your husband wasn’t part of, one where you could take your kids to play, speak to them without the watchful gaze of the nanny, laugh along with them and… and—

“Madam!” The sudden voice led you to drop the book in your hands, barely holding in a shriek as you looked at the maid that had entered your room.

“The master asked for you.” You followed the maid into the dressing room, a night dress neatly laid across for you.

It wasn’t something you would have found yourself wearing before your marriage.

As you entered the dark room you were met with Viktor, his eyes focused on the buttons of his pyjamas. He’d do much better with the lights on but he had always insisted on keeping them closed, especially on such nights.

“You’re late.” He said, still engrossed in the final buttons of his shirt.

“I must have gotten sidetracked, I apologise.” It was better to say as little as possible, not give him any more to criticise you on.

You could feel the bed dip in the bed as he joined you.

“You were there when they broke that vase.” Unlike the day where he would barely spare you a glance, his eyes bore right into yours at night, his face so close to yours you could almost see past the emotionless wall he painstakingly kept. Almost.

“It was an accident, they’re just children.”

“You also encouraged them to cover it up.”

“Because I knew you would—!” There it was again, the expression you couldn’t quite recognize, the hand’s instinctively covering his ears—you don’t remember your voice being that unbearable. But you didn’t have much time to linger on it.

“We’ll discuss this further in the morning.” His lips had inched closer, only a hairs length away from your own. Crashing into yours before you had time to register.

Perhaps his only saving grace was how good he was in bed. However, even then, he did things with a surgical precision, leaving behind no traces of his finger that ghosted all over your body and no marks of any sort to serve as proof of what you had done.

And while you would have loved to do the same, you couldn’t help but dig your nails into his back as he thrusted inside you.

The slight ridges of scars that cut far too deep to fully heal could be felt on it. Even in the barely lit room, with only faint rays of moonlight, you could see the scars that marred his skin, everywhere from his chest to his legs. Impossible to see when he donned his usual attire. Placed strategically enough to be invisible to an outsider, only in the comfort of the night could you see what the day reduced this man to.

As he finally slowed down his pace, you could feel his weight shifting, instead leaning into you as his arms wrapped around you, one of his hands brushing the hair off your face.

By the end of it, you weren’t sure who to pity more.

Masterlist

[saturnalmoss]

ARM-WRESTLER

Chapter Six

Lend Her An Ear

Master Post

There was soft conversation in the kitchen when the detectives went down in the morning. They looked at each other, then Rosé slipped forward to peek through the door. Grendan and York left quickly before they drew too much attention.

“...really could have come in, Theresa.” Leon said softly. They were sitting in one of the hefty kitchen chairs, looking up at a tiefling woman. It was the doctor - the whosit. Pretty Prosthetics Doctor Shipsomething. 

“My office is being watched!” she hissed. Leon glanced up, surprised. 

“What?” 

“Three detectives came snooping by -” Leon covered her mouth with their hand and shook their head. Slowly they pulled back and Dr. Shipsomething looked around. 

“My home isn’t exactly a place for private conversation, Theresa.” They said quietly. She coughed. 

“Some dubiously kind people came by to return your prosthesis to you.” She said instead. “Though, I maintain that you would have gotten it faster if they had left it with me.”

“I’m sure they were just overzealous.”

“They seemed concerned that you had lost your arm on purpose.” She said carefully, openly studying Leon’s face.

“Not at all. I was mugged.” Leon smiled. “This was all cleared up, of course. The fine detectives are staying here-”

“What?”

“-To track down the robber. I’m rather interested to know who it is.” Rosé saw them glance at Dr. Shipsomething, but she didn’t seem to notice. 

“Ugh, they badgered you into it, didn’t they?” She took something out of her pocket, then suddenly both of them sat upright, on high alert. Rosé pulled further from the door and held her breath. She listened.

“...Jyuri? Piri?” Leon called after a minute. They started to stand and Rosé started to back up hastily, when the door on the other end of the kitchen creaked open. 

Jyuri peeked in. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, I swear.” She said. “I just heard talking and I wanted to check if it was, uh, um.” She blushed. 

Leon smiled at her. “Jyuri, you aren’t in trouble. Come in and eat.” They gestured to Dr. Shipsomething. “This is Dr. Shipcott, she came by to help fix my arm up.”

Jyuri greeted her shyly and Rosé steeled herself. She crept down the hall and counted down in her head.

Rosé walked normally up to the kitchen door and pushed it open. “Morning!” she sang. “Oh. Uh. Hmm.” She met the eyes of Dr. Shipcott purposefully. Dr. Shipcott frowned at her. 

Leon started to rise and defuse the doctor’s ire, but she shoved him back down. Very familiar with each other, aren’t they? Rosé thought. “Ah, sorry, Theresa. I just wanted to introduce you. This is Rosé, a detective. She’s here with her office to try and discover who stole my arm.”

“We’ve met.” Dr. Shipcott said shortly. 

“Hi, again! Sorry for the misunderstanding.” Rosé said sweetly. “We had to consider the possibility that you were a murderer.” Dr. Shipcott shook her head sharply, as if to shake the notion off. 

“What? That’s absurd.”

“So is finding a disembodied arm!“ Rosé said. “You never know.” Jyuri was looking between them, watching the exchange with an polite smile. Leon waved a hand between them.

“Please, we are on the same side. I understand, perhaps, we didn’t get off on the right foot?” Dr. Shipcott looked away. Rosé sat lightly at the table and pulled over a box of cereal and one of the bowls set out. 

Leon commandeered the flow of conversation, chatting with Jyuri and Rosé as they ate. Rosé kept her conversation light and unrelated to work while she watched the group. 

Dr. Shipcott seemed to have nothing more to say. She worked on Leon’s arm, with a look of cold professionalism. Reattaching an arm didn’t look comfortable for Leon, Rosé thought. But it didn’t seem painful. She hoped, obviously, that she wouldn’t lose a limb... but Doc Pretty Prosthetics looked like a good bet if she ever needed a replacement.  

Jyuri seemed almost a different girl today. Gone was the stutter, and she was positively focused on her conversations. This morning, she was a charming kid, but there was a hint of concern under her cheer. 

Dr. Shipcott stood back. “You are all set, Mx. Pelles. Please call my office to arrange a follow up appointment. I would like to verify there are no issues.”

“...Of course Dr. Shipcott.” Leon said. “I appreciate you coming over here to help.” They stood up. “I’ll show you out, then.” The two excused themselves from the table and made their way outside. Rosé had a guess they might take a moment to talk. It was too bad she wouldn’t be able to listen in.

She slip into the seat next to Jyuri. “Hey, girl. That doctor’s weird, right? She come here much?” Jyuri made a face. 

“She’s weird! She’s excited about people, um, losing their arms!” She squeaked. 

“Yeah, she said as much to us when we visited.” Rosé tapped her chin thoughtfully. “I got the impression she didn’t want to give Leon back their arm when we visited. We sorta fought about it.”

“Oh! I think, like, that might have been a misunderstanding. She’s just, like, really precious about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! When she made it for Narri, she said like, this is art! And it’s the best I’ve made! She scolded Narri a lot about taking good care of it.” Rosé hummed. It was odd that she didn’t recognise it before seeing the file on it, wasn’t it? And Leon’s family didn’t seem like the type to afford best-in-class medical treatment.

“Wow that’s pretty precious, yeah. Did she get her scolding in before I got here?”

“No, no. Like, that was when Narri first got it. She didn’t really say anything. Um.” Rosé looked at her with conversational curiosity. “I think they talked a little about you. Before you came in. Nothing bad! Just what you told me, I think. That you didn’t give her Narri’s arm? And that y’all are staying here.”

Jyuri fidgeted with her spoon. 

“Um, so, like, what’s it like being a detective?” 

“Oh, you know. Sniffing under rocks and finding perps. Stopped a guy who was killing ghosts for profit. Caught a guy who killed his dad for profit.”

“They like profit, huh?”

“Like Booby-Who villains. It’s ridic.” Jyuri laughed, and continued to fidget. 

“Jyuri. I think you’re worried about something.” Jyuri glanced up at her. “I think... you’re worried about your Narri.”

“I mean, we are like, all worried right now, right?”

“I think you thought of something.” Jyuri looked away. “But I think that maybe you aren’t telling me because it might be bad for your Narri.” She said nothing, but Rosé thought she would come up with some excuse soon if Rosé didn’t convince her.

Rosé turned away and rested her chin on her hand nonchalantly. “Jyuri, I am pretty new as a detective. Maybe I only want to bring in perps that hurt people. You think your Narri hurts people?”

Jyuri jolted upright. “Never!”

“That’s the impression I got, too.” She smiled. “But someone hurt your Narri.” The girl nibbled her lip. 

“Well, like... I was just thinking... W-what if, maybe, someone asked Narri do do something maybe secretly? And then they tried to, to off him? To keep it secret?” 

Rosé nodded. It didn’t strictly make sense to her, since Leon was still alive after the hubbub. “Why do you think that?”

“...The doctor is weird. And... Narri’s stupid sometimes.” Rosé nodded encouragingly. “I just mean, like, I’m stupid and Piri’s stupid sometimes. Ah. Granny said I shouldn’t say stupid... Um. Maybe Narri does things without thinking about the consequences?”

“Everyone does that.”

Jyuri pouted at her. “You ever go out on a boat in a storm when you can’t swim?” 

“Leon did that?” She blushed.

“Um, no. I did.” 

“Damn. I’m glad you’re okay.” Jyuri shrugged. She looked suddenly miserable. 

“Maybe not everyone does that. But, I guess I can relate.” Jyuri watched with shy interest as Rosé showed her several old scars. “Lemme tell you, I was not as smart as your Narri. Did not used to avoid fights.”

“What, um, what happened?” Rosé sighed. She didn’t really want to get into the truth of it. 

“Ahh, you know. I... tried to take over a gang of wild trains.” Jyuri’s eyes went wide. 

“W-wow!” Rosé hoped that no one more immoral than her tried to trick this girl. Leon peeked inside.

“Hey, Dr. Shipcott’s headed out, Ardsley’s dropped by to eat with us. ...Where’s the rest of your team, anyway?”

[wolveria]

On Frozen Wings - Ch 1

Pairing: Crosshair x Hunter

Rating: 18+ only, Explicit

After Hunter nearly lost everything, his family is slowly piecing itself back together. Omega is safe, Echo might stick around for a while, and Crosshair... Well. Crosshair never makes things easy, but sometimes, he does make them simple. Crosshair wants him. Unfortunately, Hunter has no idea what to do with this information.

AO3

Hunter wasn’t sure how it was quieter with more people on the ship, but somehow, it was.

The tension on the Remora was a far cry from what it’d been on their way to Barton IV. That flight had been filled with a crackling thickness that forced a subdued atmosphere and silent ride.

This was different. Something had changed on the planet, and it wasn’t just that Hunter and Crosshair were on speaking terms again, though that was a small miracle itself. And to think, it had only taken Hunter nearly being eaten by an ice wyrm to make that happen.

Considering how their fights usually went, this one went rather smoothly. No black eyes, no broken bones. No one had even thrown a punch. Hungry beasts were tame in comparison.

Maybe that explained the strange space between them now. Strange, because it was peaceful. Deceptively so. Hunter once again found himself focused on Crosshair wherever he was in the ship, tracking him by scent, sound, and that unique bioelectric signature that belonged only to him.

But he wasn’t going to follow Crosshair like a lost pup, or the shadow Crosshair accused him of being. He wasn’t.

He just… happened to find himself in the same part of the ship as Crosshair. That’s all. Hunter wasn’t thinking about the questions left unanswered. When had Crosshair’s chip actually been removed, why had he killed an Imperial officer, and what had really happened back on that ice planet.

Hunter had watched him place the helmets one by one, arranging them on the crate like a memorial. Something… significant had happened there, and the way Crosshair held one particular helmet wrapped in old bindings filled Hunter’s chest with both a dull ache and a sharp, cold sting.

Hunter refused to think about how he’d never seen Crosshair so tender and careful before. These were strangers to Hunter, but not to Crosshair. He’d lived a whole other life, away from them.

Away from Hunter.

No, he definitely wasn’t thinking about that. He was not thinking about it so hard that he failed to notice Crosshair right in front of him in the corridor, a brow raised at Hunter’s errant wandering.

Or, perhaps, not so errant.

“Following me again, Hunter?”

Hunter scowled, but it was out of embarrassment rather than annoyance as he glanced away from where Crosshair stood conveniently in his path.

“No.”

The brows rose even higher.

“Really.”

“Yeah. Really.”

The silence begged for something to fill it, and Hunter did with a grumbled, “Was just… walking the ship.”

“Uh-huh.”

Hunter’s gaze snapped to his, but Crosshair’s expression was one of vague amusement. There was no resentment or anger. Hunter could admit it was a nice change.

Hunter relaxed, giving a half shrug and a little smile to acknowledge his answer was, perhaps, ridiculous.

“Our ship’s not meant to hold so many people. Guess I wanted to stretch my legs while I had the chance.”

“Didn’t get enough of that with the wyrm trying to bite you on the ass?”

A chuckle startled out of him. He’d missed Crosshair’s sharp tongue and scathing wit, especially when it was used for amicable teasing rather than ripping him to shreds. Oh, how Crosshair excelled at targeting all of Hunter’s weak points.

“That? That was nothing compared to some of the creatures we’ve come across,” Hunter said. “Last one almost swallowed the Marauder whole.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, his own posture relaxed as he leaned one shoulder against the corridor wall.

“How did you ever survive without me?”

Hunter’s humor faded. Not very well, he could admit to himself.

Crosshair’s amusement also vanished, studying Hunter’s face with closer scrutiny than he was used to. None of the others looked at him that way, or when they tried, like Wrecker had been the last few months, Hunter simply skirted around the observation and pretended everything was fine.

It hadn’t been, for a long time. Only within the past day, the past few hours, did Hunter realize his hope hadn’t been completely extinguished.

“Come on.”

Hunter blinked out of his daze, but Crosshair didn’t wait for him, slipping down the hallway until he disappeared from view. And like a second shadow, Hunter followed.

They ended up in the cargo hold, mostly empty due to Echo being between missions for Rex. There were a handful of crates around, and one was growing a collection of armor as Crosshair was in the middle of stripping off pieces.

Hunter stared, dumbfounded. Clearly, he’d missed a very crucial part of their conversation.

Crosshair looked over his shoulder and gave an amused huff at whatever face he was making. Hunter certainly couldn’t guess.

“How long’s it been since you’ve properly sparred with someone?”

Oh. Sparring.

“Well…”

He tried to think. They hadn’t had much downtime to begin with, but after Omega had been taken and Hunter had focused everything into finding her, he’d had too much time on his hands during their stints in hyperspace. Too much time to think about all the mistakes he’d made and the ways he’d failed. A distraction had been sorely needed, and sparring would have been perfect.

But since it had been only him and Wrecker, and they hadn’t been able to spar with Wrecker for years because of his enhanced strength, something they’d learned after he’d accidentally broken Tech’s collarbone…

So, not since Kamino. Not since… they’d left Crosshair.

“A long time.”

Crosshair hummed, the tone of it not indicating his thoughts one way or another.

“Here’s your chance,” Crosshair said. “Sounds better than pacing the ship, doesn’t it? Especially if we’re just going to keep running into each other.”

Hunter could hear the amused tint of the words, the way Crosshair’s mouth curved even if he couldn’t see it, and it was the kind of teasing that used to drive Hunter mad. He didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he no longer had it.

Crosshair bent down to slip off his boots, and he chose that moment to look back at Hunter and catch him staring. Now that he’d been staring at anything in particular, he was just—

“Are you going to strip, or do I need to do it for you?”

Hunter looked away, grinding his teeth together.

Little shit.

Sparring did sound like a good way to get rid of this odd tension he couldn’t identify. It wasn’t a bad sort of tension, not the kind he felt after seeing Crosshair again after so long. That shock had been a punch to the gut, especially after the bone-deep relief of having Omega again.

To have her back, and on the heels of that, Crosshair dropping back into their lives had been like a plunge out of hyperspace with a broken hyperdrive.

Reconciling with Crosshair had been what they needed, and everything should be fine now, right? So why did his gut tighten whenever they were in the same room?

Yeah, maybe this was what he needed. A distraction and a way to work off excess energy.

Hunter hadn’t taken off his chest plate since the ice planet, and he did so now, along with his one remaining pauldron. It was hard to imagine all that was left of his old armor was his cuirass, helmet, and greaves. Even his bandana hadn’t survived the blood and violence he and Wrecker had waged for any scrape of information they could find.

His mind had wandered again—he didn’t even notice that Crosshair had moved closer, only a few feet away and stripped down to his blacks. His arms were crossed, but there was a lightness to his face, bordering on mischief.

“How many layers are you wearing?”

Hunter glanced down at himself. He’d gotten past the green vest, and the tan undervest, which left the brown long-sleeved shirt and his bicep pads—

“It’s protection,” Hunter muttered.

“There’s something else that does a better job of that,” Crosshair said, his eyes bright with silent laughter. “You may have heard of it.”

“Katarn-class armor isn’t exactly for sale at the local market.”

“So, you decided to go without? That’s much better.”

Hunter purposefully glared as he stripped the rest of his outfit. It was a good thing they were going to spar soon, Hunter would happily throw the first punch. Though with the amused tilt to Crosshair’s mouth, he wondered if that was the point.

Hunter pulled off his gloves and gauntlets next, making a show of the exposed armor under the maroon bindings. Crosshair rolled his eyes.

“Well, thank the Maker, your arms have protection.”

Little shit, Hunter repeated as he fought down his own smile.

The running commentary didn’t stop when Hunter removed his gun belt, and Crosshair said, “Didn’t realize you like to live so dangerously, Hunter. That thigh-strap is awfully close to your—”

“Are you going to do this the whole time?”

Crosshair released a sharp breath that wasn’t quite laughter but was close enough to fill Hunter’s chest with warmth. He still scowled at the boots he pulled off his feet, though.

“Not if you’d hurry up,” Crosshair purred. “We’ll pick up the reg before you’re even halfway done.”

Hunter let out a soft growl and turned away. His hands kept fumbling with Crosshair staring at him like that, lips slanted in unending delight at Hunter’s discomfort, but his eyes too narrow and watchful, as if each revealed layer required new scrutiny. Hunter fidgeted like a bug under glass.

He hesitated before pulling off his pants. The armor plating was attached to them, so he couldn’t leave them on. Traditionally, they always sparred in their body gloves, it was fairer and prevented any serious injuries besides what they could cause with their own bodies.

He sighed. It wasn’t anything Crosshair hadn’t glimpsed in the communal shower or even in their old barracks. It was fine. It wasn’t strange.

Hunter kept telling himself that as he shucked off his pants and pulled off the last layer of his upper body. What he wore underneath was… a very truncated version of a black body suit. The upper portion only covered his chest and his shoulders, leaving his arms and hands bare.

The bottom half was even more lacking, only covering his groin and upper thighs. It kept him from overheating with all the additional layers, but that wasn’t much of a reassurance when he felt Crosshair’s sharp eyes taking him in from head to foot.

“What?” Hunter folded his arms across his chest—not because he was trying to shield himself from that piercing stare. Definitely not.

“Nothing,” Crosshair said in a way that meant he had many thoughts he could share, none of them he would.

“Right.” Hunter rolled his shoulder, trying to shake off the new tension that had crept up on him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been such a bundle of raw nerves, but it had probably involved Crosshair. It always did. “Any rules?”

“No killing each other.”

“Thought that went without saying.”

Crosshair’s small but toothy smile reminded him of a predator whose hunger had been piqued.

“Just want to be thorough. Other than that, no boundaries.”

Against anyone else that might be good news, Hunter was deadly in close quarters, but Crosshair fought dirty. Suddenly, his bare skin felt a lot more exposed.

“Sounds good to me,” Hunter said, and he hoped none of his trepidation showed. Hunter might be more prone to biting under stress due to his enhancements, but Crosshair was more than happy to dig his teeth into body parts that got too close to his mouth.

Yeah. Hunter was probably coming out of this bloody.

They moved apart nearly at the same moment, their postures slipping into old fighting stances, comfortable in their familiarity. Too many of their battles these days involved blasters or short, brutal fights that relied on aggression rather than finesse.

Hunter was eager for this, he realized, but at the same time… he held back, hesitant, as they circled each other. The last time he’d fought Crosshair, he’d been trying to kill Hunter, cut him open with his own vibroblade. It wasn’t something he could forget, even if he’d forgiven Crosshair.

And he had. His resentment and bitterness had been buried in the snow of Barton IV. But that didn’t mean he knew where they stood now. The hope felt fragile, and he was afraid to break it with a wrong move or misspoken word.

If Crosshair was feeling any hesitation, he neglected to show it. He rolled his eyes and drew Hunter’s attention to the wide space between them.

“I thought we were sparring, not dancing.”

“Come over here, then.”

Crosshair’s lips twitched upward.

“You first.”

It was an invitation if Hunter was ever going to get one. Crosshair was okay with this, really okay with this, even if it got violent. Which… Hunter wasn’t actually interested in. Not that he ever was, but when it was Crosshair trying to force him into submission, all fists and teeth and lanky limbs, it lit a blaze in Hunter that made him more animal than human—

Air exploded from his lungs as Crosshair’s shoulder hit him hard in the gut, dragging them both to the ground. Apparently, the sniper got tired of waiting.

Hunter was quick, flipping Crosshair over his head and scrambling for him, less than graceful on the metal slats instead of their usual padded mats. He might have been hesitant before, but he wasn’t now, driving Crosshair back to the floor with a combination of thrown weight and gravity.

It was a messy, tangled struggle after that. Nearly all their sparring matches devolved into a contest of who could pin the other fastest. Hunter usually won if he didn’t allow Crosshair to grab him from behind. His height and longer limbs gave him the advantage when Hunter couldn’t reach him, though a jab to the ribs and a hook around his ankle almost always got them back on even ground.

Hunter should have won this round too, but there was an intensity to Crosshair that caught him by surprise, and when the sniper pinned him flat on his back, he stayed there. Mostly because he didn’t want to move and lose sight of Crosshair’s peculiar expression.

It was focused, as it usually was, but layered with a dark intensity that made Hunter’s mouth run dry. Crosshair straddled his hips, his fingers curled around Hunter’s wrists, holding them above his head.

Something about this felt… familiar. Back in their cadet days, sparring matches tended to be most often between them, as Tech wasn’t interested and Wrecker was getting too big for them to do it safely.

Not that anything Crosshair and Hunter did could be labeled safe. Their matches would quickly escalate to black eyes, bruises, and bite marks. Until one day it had escalated to something else.

Nothing happened. Nothing ever happened. They had just been going through the unpredictable swings of hormones during adolescence, a fact they only knew because Tech gave them almost daily updates on his own bodily changes, and Wrecker would enthusiastically contribute with his own.

Nothing had happened, except two sweaty cadets accidentally brushing their aching erections against each other. And then doing it again. Neither of them speaking about these accidental touches, and if they both hurried off to the showers separately afterwards, that didn’t need to be mentioned, either.

So Crosshair leaning forward and rubbing his hard length against Hunter’s equally stiff erection was a shock to his gut, equally familiar and not. They were no longer naïve cadets, and this was no accident.

“Crosshair,” he choked out.

“Yes?”

Crosshair purred around the word, but his eyes were watchful, nearly to the point of wariness, waiting for Hunter to speak. But he had no idea what the hell he wanted to say, frozen like the proverbial nuna trapped under the nexu.

“I…” Hunter finally stumbled out. “What… are you doing?”

Crosshair’s eyes narrowed.

“I thought it was obvious.”

A comment like that might ordinarily earn Crosshair a glare and sharp retort, but Hunter struggled to find where all his air went.

“We…” He swallowed to get his dry throat some relief. “We can’t…”

Hunter’s appeal for Crosshair to see reason might have been more effective if he didn’t groan when the sniper rolled his hips and rubbed their clothed erections together.

“We can, Hunter.” His eyes blazed, staring straight through him and leaving all his old yearnings exposed. “We can.”

But will you? was the unspoken question Crosshair didn’t voice. Hunter didn’t have an answer to that, either. He was still reeling from the idea that Crosshair even wanted him in this way.

And then Crosshair leaned down, so close that Hunter thought he might kiss him, and he held his breath, frozen. Hunter could—and had—faced down battalions of battle droids without flinching, but the sight of Crosshair’s lips hovering over his might be enough to earn his surrender.

At the last moment, Crosshair changed course, his lips tracing over the dark lines of Hunter’s tattooed jaw until his breath warmed his ear.

“Say yes.”

Hunter closed his eyes. He wanted to, stars, he wanted to. Every inch of his body ached with the need to say yes, but he couldn’t. They’d just gotten Crosshair back. He couldn’t do anything to risk that, wouldn’t do anything that might eventually make him leave.

There had been reasons why Hunter hadn’t given in to temptation when they were cadets or troopers. He could have, oh he could have, so easily with Crosshair. Or possibly with regs who had reminded him of Crosshair, but he hadn’t.

The reasons were different now. He didn’t have to worry about pissing off some Kaminoans with their frigid ideas of “appropriate interpersonal conduct,” and he was no longer a sergeant. No longer a soldier. He wasn’t even their leader anymore, not really.

But he couldn’t… they couldn’t…

The noise that came out of him when Crosshair pressed his mouth to Hunter’s neck was embarrassing, startled and needy.

“Say yes,” Crosshair growled against his skin. Hunter’s ability to think, let alone speak, was shot to hell when he sucked on the spot just under his jawline.

Hunter kept his mouth firmly shut as he tried to find the words to explain why this was a kriffing bad idea, but then Crosshair released his wrists and instead dug his fingertips against Hunter’s chest. He used the leverage to grind down harder, and Hunter could practically see stars.

He knew it then. He wouldn’t say no. He couldn’t deny Crosshair anything, not really. And he wouldn’t deny him this, not when it took all of Hunter’s strength not to flip them over and rut against Crosshair like an animal in heat.

So he kept his hands firmly at his sides, and even that was dangerous with them so close to Crosshair’s long, coltish legs.

Hunter tilted his head further to the side, a show of surrender. It was the best he could offer when a part of him still insisted this was the wrong decision, that neither of them were thinking clearly and Crosshair would regret his actions later. Wasn’t that how they got here to begin with?

But that was only a small part of Hunter. The rest of him relished how Crosshair purred in victory and sucked one last spot on his neck before he sat up. His pupils were blown, and his lips were slightly swollen from the rough treatment to Hunter’s neck.

They looked damned delicious, but before Hunter could consider what would happen if he kissed him, Crosshair shifted upright on his knees. He separated his body glove and tugged the lower half down just enough to free his cock.

He was longer than Hunter but not as thick, and he was already leaking copious amounts of precum. Hunter’s mouth watered at the sight, the scent of Crosshair’s arousal even more potent now, and it was a miracle he could keep his hands to himself and simply watch.

Crosshair pulled down the waistband of Hunter’s suit and pulled out his length. He stared at it with a devouring expression that reminded Hunter of what sometimes happens when he gets too close to Crosshair’s teeth.

And then he’s not thinking anything at all as Crosshair wrapped his long fingers around their shafts and thrust forward. The noise that Hunter made sounded almost painful, a ragged groan and gasp, and he failed to keep his hands frozen at his sides, instead gripping onto Crosshair’s calves as if to steady himself. Or keep him firmly on the ground before he floated off into space.

Crosshair kept going, setting a pace that was neither gentle nor slow. Hunter would have thought he’d been more teasing, drag it out just to watch Hunter squirm, but something in his movements were almost desperate. Frantic.

It was all Hunter could do to brace himself, pleasure zipping up and down his spine at a speed that would leave him ruined. Crosshair’s warm hands, the calluses against his skin, the shock of friction between their lengths.

Yeah, he was ruined.

The buildup was quick after that. Too much time apart, years of unanswered yearning and buried desires, Hunter wasn’t going to last long. His bandana came loose, and Crosshair tugged it off, twisting his fingers in the freed locks of his hair, and pulled.

It was nearly enough to hurt, dancing the line between pleasure and pain until they melded, and Hunter arched his back. He gripped Crosshair’s legs and thrust up once, twice, and spilled over Crosshair’s skilled fingers. Fingers that shook when holding a weapon but were steady now as he carried Hunter through his trembling orgasm.

Something gave way inside him, a dam burst after a lifetime of holding back. The grief of losing Crosshair, the piercing ache of rejection and betrayal, the agony of trying to keep Crosshair at a safe distance upon his return, none of it remained intact. The relief shuddered through him, a soft hitch like a sob in his throat.

Hunter didn’t feel the tears until they trickled into his hairline. He wasn’t… crying… or maybe he was? He couldn’t remember the last time he had cried, possibly when he was a cadet. But something within him had cracked, and the released pressure made him feel boneless, warm, and wonderfully brittle.

It was good. Hunter knew that much. The tension was gone, his senses thrummed in a way that was almost overstimulation, and Crosshair—

—was looking at him with a wide-eyed expression of horror.

Hunter blinked stupidly. Not understanding when Crosshair pulled away, hastily rearranging his body glove to cover himself—and things certainly weren’t clearer when the sniper grabbed his gear and practically fled the room.

Hunter stared at the doorway, half-expecting Crosshair to come back. And wasn’t that a painfully familiar feeling?

He dropped his head, the back of it thudding against the floor, and reluctantly, he put away his softening cock. Hunter grimaced at the stickiness that coated the upper half of his suit, and then he stared at the ceiling, listening to the hum of the ship, waiting for Crosshair’s soft footfalls to return.

They didn’t. Hunter’s heart sank in his chest.

What had he done?

Next Chapter