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viennakarma · 7 months

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Everything I Wanted III.

LESTAPPEN x READER (PART 3/FINALE)

Summary: Your journey to become a Motorsport legend wasn't easy, especially when your path clashed with your greatest rivals, Max Verstappen and Charles Leclerc.

Word count: 10k

Tags: Driver reader, mentions of crash, angst, abusive parent, daddy issues, trust issues, character death (not reader), cursing, strong rivalry, misogyny in motorsport, invasive media, aggressive fans, reader suffers with cyberbullying and hate, smut, female reader, +18, unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibtionism, edging, filthy, porn with plot, queer! everyone, polyamory lestappen, bit of dirty talking, pet names, open ending, HEA, not beta read

Relationships: Lestappen x Reader

Mentor!Kimi Raikkonen x Reader

Sebastian Vettel, Fernando Alonso, Lewis Hamilton x Platonic!Reader

Notes: this is full of motorsport inaccuracies, just go with the vibes please. There are also a few inaccuracies regarding other drivers' lives, but they are just to fit the story. This chapter is a tiny bit angsty. Maybe I should've mentioned it before, but both Max and Charles are single in this story. I'm sorry if it feels rushed or if it has any mistakes, I just let my heart go with the flow!

Find me on Twitter!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You spend a few days in some happy daze, just shamelessly bashing in your Championship. Everyone knew because you were positively giddy during the last race week in Abu Dhabi, you were seen smiling more during that one week than you had been seen smiling in your three years of Formula 1.

Some of the drivers were even more amicable towards you and your closest friends were even teasing you all the time, calling you Champion so they could see you blush and giggle.

“Hey there, Champ,” Lewis would greet you.

“Buenos días, campeona,” Fernando would say and laugh at your reaction.

Lando even joked to some reporter that you were in love with the championship.

There was a dinner organized by the drivers to say farewell to Sebastian. Despite knowing most drivers confirmed their presence there, you planned to go and leave early because you always felt left out whenever most drivers got together.

That’s why you texted Lewis to ask what he was wearing that night, and you ended up wearing high waisted suede pants, and a white T-shirt, finishing with a classic black scarpin in your feet and a purse.

Since you and Nando were in the same hotel, you decided to go together with his driver. Only when you got to the car, Charles was also inside the car, and you had to sit quietly by his side, his thigh brushing yours. Nando was in the passenger seat, and you started small talk with him to diffuse the tension he was unaware was happening in the backseat. You were engaged in conversation with Nando when you felt Charles fingers touching your knee. Jolting, you immediately slapped his hand away.

“You ok there?” Nando asked from the front of the car.

“Uh, yes! Just an- annoying mosquito!” You said, faking a smile.

Charles pouted, crossing his arms and pointedly looking to the window of his side.

As the three of you arrived there, half of the grid was already there, seated and chatting. Lewis welcomed you first, warning that he purposefully invited Sebastian to arrive thirty minutes later, so he was the last to arrive. As you sat beside Nando, you noticed how Charles sat beside you again, facing Pierre across the table, and you ended up facing Max. Your eyes met, but you looked away, deciding to focus on conversation with Nando and Lando, who was in front of him.

When Seb arrived, he was welcomed with a round of applause, which made his cheeks redden a little as he laughed. The dinner went well, and you shared red wine with a few of the others, some of them preferred other drinks. It was nice chatting with everyone, and it was the first time you really felt part of the group, everyone together laughing and eating.

“Y/N, who’s your idol from this table?” Carlos asked with a smirk.

“You wanna put me in trouble,” you eyed around. Everyone knew that the people you were closest with, Lewis, Seb and Nando were your racing idols.

“Come on, your favorite, Lewis, Seb or Fernando?” Lando joined in, and the others joined too, egging you on.

“Kimi is my favorite,” you muttered before taking a sip of your wine. Everyone started shouting and calling you a liar, “fine, fine, it doesn’t mean I’m not a big fan of the other two, but growing up, I’ve always wanted to race like Fernando.”

“And now you do,” Fernando said, raising his glass in a toast, which honestly made you blush. Everyone started making fun of you because you were shy and giggly.

You ended up staying until the end, when everyone had to leave to get a good night of sleep for the free practices the next day.

Race day there was a small ceremony to say goodbye to Sebastian, and it was the only part of the week that made you a little sad, even though part of you were really happy knowing he would get to spend time with his family and dedicate himself to his projects of sustainability. When the drivers made a little corridor to applaud him, Sebastian hugged you and you felt a little teary eyed.

The race was great, and you put some effort into winning that one, because you wanted to finish the season with a bang. And a bang it was, holding the P1 trophy again, kissing it and then raising it high as homage to mom.

After the season ended officially, you went straight to Woking to visit the factory and thank everyone personally for making you a car fast enough to make you the champion. Then you had a few media commitments, had to go over some marketing and legal meetings about brands deals and whatnot interested in your image.

Finally, by the beginning of December, you went back to Monaco and slept in for a few days, relaxing body and mind.

When Lando found out you were living in Monaco, he invited you to a padel match, and despite not knowing the game very well, you never said no to any form of competitive sport that could take your mind off things.

“I’ll let you know, I’m a fast learner, Landito.” You pointed when he gave you a padel racket.

“Come on, you have 20 minutes to learn the basics before our competition is here,” he said.

“Oh, we’ll be playing as duos?” You smiled, letting him lead you to the court.

Lando taught you the basics for a while, and you were getting the hang of it when you heard voices behind you. You stopped short as you noticed your competition were Charles and Max, and as they saw you, they too seemed surprised.

“Hello,” you greeted them with a nod.

Luckily Lando didn’t waste any time with pleasantries and went straight to the game. Which was great, since that was a language you could speak. You soon noticed Charles and Max had a bit more experience than you, so you had to up your game a bit, using strategy to outsmart them.

You and Lando won three games and Charles and Max won four.

As you finished, you went to the net and shook their hands. Max stared at you intensely, but you ignored him and went grab your bag.

“You’re leaving?” Lando asked, “we were going to grab a snack after.”

“Oh, um, yeah- I gotta go, I still have a lot to do around the apartment and I’m waiting for some furniture to arrive,” you gave an excuse.

“You’re living in Monaco?” Charles asked, visibly surprised at the info.

“Yeah. So, bye. Thanks for the game.” You started walking away, but Lando jogged to catch up to you.

“Hey, uh- text me when you’re free this weekend. I wanted to talk to you privately about… McLaren” he whispered your team’s name and you raised an eyebrow, you had no idea what he wanted to talk about, but you nodded.

Lando ended up coming over to your apartment Saturday afternoon, he helped you paint your living room walls a soft green, and after you finished, you were eating a few snacks when he finally said what he wanted to talk about.

“So, I know that legally we shouldn’t be talking about it, but- for how long is your new contract with McLaren?” He breached the subject. You paused.

“What? You know my contract ends by the end of next season.”

“Yeah but- the new one-”

He silenced himself abruptly, probably realizing you didn’t get a new one. You pressed your lips in a thin line. You had a contract similar to Lando’s, that would end by the end of next year. But now- now Lando had been offered a renovation, and you weren’t.

“They offered you an extension already?” You asked, shocked.

“No- I mean- It’s just-” Lando realized by your face that he had fucked up.

“Lando.”

“Yes, from 2024 on, with possible extensions,” He said, apologetically.

“Oh” you whispered.

“I’m so sorry, I’m sure they are just taking their time putting your contract together since you’re, you know, the world champion,” Lando startled rambling, until his phone started ringing, “I’m sorry, I gotta go, I’m streaming tonight and I need to set up. I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sure they’ll offer your renewal soon.”

You bid him goodbye, still processing his words. You tried to be reasonable and not be upset, but the prospect of not receiving a proposal being the world champion didn’t sit right with you. You meditated, thinking to not let that get to you, but a few days before the FIA Gala, you received a proposal from Mercedes, and another from Aston Martin. Both were great, great contracts. They offered a lot of money, security and great publicity.

The night of the Gala, you went all out. Amanda helped you hire a glam team, so you had make up, hair and stylists helping you dress. You wore a silver dress, long with a high slit on the leg, black heels, and your hair was short now, shoulder length and dyed black. You wanted a femme fatale look, and that’s what you got.

Unfortunately, Kimi and Minttu couldn’t go with you, and you didn’t bother to find a date, opting to go by yourself. When you arrived at the ceremony, all eyes were on you. You posed a little by the red carpet and answered a few questions about the championship.

During the ceremony you sat with Lewis, chatting up until the main awards were called. You watched as Charles went up the stage for the third place trophy, he was handsome wearing some designer suit and tie, and glasses that made him even more attractive. He said a couple of words, before making his way down. Then was Max, wearing a gorgeous tux, perfectly tailored to his shoulders and waist. While he was talking, you fixed the bust of your dress and waited for your name to be called alongside the words world champion.

When you got to the stairs, Max was down there, and he offered you a gentlemanly arm to help you up, you hesitated for a brief second but then accepted, letting him guide you up the steps.

Your eyes were on the beautiful trophy. The smile on your face was big, almost giddy, as you went on the stage. You kissed your trophy, leaving a red lipstick stain on the side of it, and you stopped by the mic. After a brief second to recollect your thoughts, you sighed.

“Wow! It’s such an honor to receive this as a token of my hard work and all my years facing pushback for this dream,” you smiled down at the trophy, “I’ll try and keep it brief. I know I have already said some of this, but I’d like to thank my team, not only for making this amazing car that became part of me during this season, but also for giving me a chance three years ago. Thanks to Jace and Amanda, who were such great help this year. I’d like to thank Kimi for seeing me when I was on the brink of giving up and when no scouts looked in my direction, and Minttu for taking me in as one of her own,” you put a hand on your chest, above your heart as your voice choked a little, heavy with emotion, “Thank you, Sebastian and Fernando for accepting my friendship when everyone else turned their backs on me,” you found them both around the crowd, Nando sending you a wink, and Sebastian smiling wildly, “and last but not least, I’d like to thank my mum for working hard to put a roof over my head and food on the table while I was out there hustling for my dream.”

Everyone clapped and you waited for the applause to die down. You could end your speech there, but you wouldn’t be the Lioness if you did.

“Oh, and for those who said I wasn’t gonna go far… You can suck my-” you interrupted yourself, showing your tongue cheekily, making almost everyone in the room laugh.

That night you drank, danced and sang like never before. You woke up hungover and a little blacked out, not remembering the whole night, only some glimpses of it.

You stayed the Holidays with Kimi and his family, and despite being invited by Lando to a big New Year’s Eve party, you opted for a chill celebration. You still found time to send Sebastian and his family some Christmas presents and you managed to go karting with Fernando on his track in Asturias.

After meeting with Fernando, you went on a solo trip around Spain, visiting cities and learning a little bit about history while practicing your spanish. You also tried a few hobbies, out of curiosity. You tried playing tennis, skydiving and surfing.

Soon, you were back in Monaco to resume your training for next season and traveling to Woking to see your new car. You also sat with Amanda and your lawyer, and accepted a few brand deals, one for makeup and another for a big fashion brand. You were genuinely happy with both, you always wanted to get into fashion but never had the time or knack for it, but now with your deal, they would link you to a stylist and give you outfit options.

You entered the new season fresh, feeling good not only about your talent as a racing driver, but about your looks and new style, feeling that your championship could finally back you up.

Only if the media got the memo.

“Y/N do you believe when people attribute your championship win to Verstappen’s mistake?”

You felt fire in your throat, anger bubbling up.

“No, I believe I won the championship because I drove well the whole season. I attribute my championship to myself, my talent and my hard work,” your tone was harsh, and you didn’t even bother to sound pleasant, “I wonder if this was asked to every other Formula 1 champion of the world or just me?”

You huffed, putting your mic down, and you saw Fernando leaning towards you to whisper, “it’s good to have the Lioness back.”

It was different seeing Nando wearing green now and Sebastian’s absence was noticed from day one. He had sent you a text wishing good luck in the season.

There was also a weird shift that you noticed soon, right in the first few races. The rivalry between Max and Charles had been placated a little. They were still rivals on the track, but out of it, they were seen chatting and discussing, all in good spirits and friendly. Whatever rift had caused the tension all these years was apparently mended. So now, they were only your rivals, together against the greater evil. You.

Without a win in the first three races that season, you were sure something was wrong. Could it be your car, but it could also be you.

You came out of debriefing feeling a stress induced headache starting. You walked around the paddock aimlessly, just trying to clear your head and not face any photographer or reporter. That’s why you were around the moving boxes and trucks, trying to find a secluded spot to breathe and meditate.

Unfortunately, you ended up facing two people pressed against a wall. Frowning, you tried to understand what was going on, when you realized it was Max and Charles. Their sides were pressed on each other, but what caught your attention was that they were holding hands, whispering to each other.

You paused, trying to make sense of it. And then Max caressed Charles’ jaw. Then you decided, it was none of your business whatever they did.

Turning around, you were leaving when you stepped on something and it broke loudly. You just kept walking away, not looking back, you were almost leaving the lot when someone held your wrist, making you turn back around.

“Wait, Y/N, we- we can-” Charles’ voice failed him, visibly nervous.

“We can buy your silence,” Max added, suddenly. You frowned, shaking your head.

“I didn’t see anything,” you muttered trying to walk away, but now Max also held your other wrist.

“Say your price,” Max pressed further, making you angry.

“I don’t know what kind of psycho you take me for, but I didn’t see anything,” you say, suggestively, “I wouldn’t want someone to out me, and I wouldn’t do that to anyone else either. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Fuck,” Max whispered, letting go of your hand.

“You- you promise?” Charles asked, still not letting go of you.

“I swear on my mom’s grave.” You said softly just because you could understand their fear, you knew first hand how cruel the motorsport world could be. Whatever was going on between them was none of your business.

You left without another word, hoping they believed you.

The season kept going, and your car wasn’t as good as the year before which was really upsetting you and forcing you to work even harder to match your quality the previous year.

But also both Max and Charles stopped publicly taunting you, making people wonder if your rivalry had ended. It was annoying because that dynamic was all that you’ve known from them, and the fact that they stopped shading you because they were scared to anger you and you eventually exposed them to the world was even more annoying. You wondered if you should talk to them, to let them know it was never coming out of your mouth.

You decided silence was the best course of action. You had enough problems with your car as it was.

Before the fifth race of the season, all the drivers were called for a meeting, to talk about a few safety measures that were being put in place for paddock safety. You sat through it quietly, only listening to the FIA representative. You knew that meeting was because of what had happened to you in Zandvoort the year before, you had taken your complaints to the FIA and miraculously, they had abided by it.

You left the meeting as soon as it was over, walking away. But then, you touched your wrist as a nervous tic.

No. No.

You noticed you didn’t have your watch with you the moment you left the building, patting your pockets to make sure it wasn’t there as you ran right back to the meeting room where the drivers debrief had been.

As soon as you entered, you saw both Max and Charles checking the watch, the monegasque was the one holding it.

“Hey, uh-” you paused, trying to not sound rude, “that’s mine, can I have it back?”

Charles looked at you with that smirk as Max moved away a few steps. Charles opened his hand in your direction, handing you the watch. But as you were to grab it, he pulled back and threw it. You froze, seeing the watching flying directly into Max’s awaiting hands behind you.

“Please, don't-” you gasped as Max pretended to throw it back to Charles. But he didn’t, he just extended his open hand to you, probably noticing the worry in your face.

Skittishly, you got closer to him and grabbed the watch from his hand. He didn’t pull away like Charles had done.

But as you pulled it back, your own hand slipped the watch, and you eyed it with horror as it hit the ground immediately breaking the crystal. You felt like your heart was breaking along with your mom’s watch.

“No, no,” you whispered, kneeling down to take it back.

“Hey, what is happ-” you heard Lewis’ voice entering the room but he stopped short as he saw you almost crying on the floor. He immediately helped you get up.

Both Max and Charles were shocked, still rooted to the spot as it was the first time they ever saw you show any kind of extreme emotion, and the pain in your eyes made both of them get filled with guilt.

You stood up still holding the watch in your hand as a fragile thing, pretty much like your heart.

“Hey, kiddo. Come on,” Lewis put an arm around your shoulders, pushing you away softly after giving the other two drivers a nasty glare.

You didn’t try to get it fixed, and you still wore it even with the crystal shattered. You knew it was a relic, vintage and probably handmade since it was generations in your family. But also you were too emotionally attached to it to get rid of the watch.

After the race, once you got a P2, finally, you went to the hotel, skipping the celebration the team wanted to throw for you but still picking the bill for their night out.

It was late at night when you were rewatching the race, trying to see whatever mistake caused you to miss that P1 that was just within reach but you didn’t manage to take it. You were taking notes, typing in your laptop, when a knock on your door interrupted. You had already ordered room service, but sometimes Amanda did it for you if she thought you weren’t eating enough.

You opened the door to be faced with Max and Charles.

“Can we come in?” Charles asked, and confused, you opened the door wider to let them in.

“We came to apologize about the watch, we’re sorry.” Max started, looking at Charles for his cue.

“That was really immature of us, sorry,” Charles added.

“It’s alright,” you sighed, a little tired, “it’s not your fault, really. I dropped it, not you.”

“But it wouldn’t have happened if we just didn’t mess around with you.”

You sighed again, despite being sad about the watch, you didn’t really blame them for it. Charles took your hand suddenly, making you stare up at them, both of them looking at the broken watch you were still wearing. Max opened the bag and handed you a small box. It was a Rolex.

“We’re really sorry, Y/N,” he handed you the watch. You stared at the box, taking it as a sign of good faith from them.

“Thanks,” you whispered, “I was just eating, you wanna join me?”

They nodded, uncertain. They followed you to the en-suite, the most recent race paused on the TV. You closed your laptop.

“I appreciate the gesture, but-” you unclasped the watch in your wrist, handing it to Charles who was sitting closer to you, “it has emotional value, it was mum’s.”

You waited as they read the inscription, Charles gasping when he realized it had way more value to you than the stupidly expensive Rolex they managed to buy you. Running his thumb on the inscription, Max looked at you.

“I know a guy back home, he- he can fix the crystal,” Max told you, “would you trust me to take it to get fixed? It’s the least I could do.”

“You don’t have to,” you shook your head, “I don’t blame you for breaking it.”

“Please?” Max asked, and something inside you spread warmth in your chest.

“Fine,” you sighed, seeing Max pocket your watch in his bag, “please, help yourselves.”

They went to the table of room service and grabbed a bit of food. They sat around.

“You were rewatching the race?”

“Yeah, I like taking notes, seeing what I can improve…”

You closed your laptop and the TV, not wanting them to check your confidential information.

“How are you feeling this year?” Max asked, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

“I’m alright, I guess. I mean, the car could be better,” you shrugged.

“And about your mom?” Charles looked at you intently.

“It’s grief, right?” You blinked slowly, “it comes and goes in waves. Sometimes they’re tiny waves breaking on your ankles, and sometimes it feels like you’re going to drown in them.”

There’s a brief silence, but when you meet his eyes, Charles’ eyes shine in understanding.

“I know.”

Max managed to change topics, talking about the track, the race and his impressions. Was a safe topic, lighter. You didn’t notice how, but you three ended up sitting in a small circle on the floor. Max was passionately talking about track adherence, and he was so focused on his explanation that it was actually funny. You eyed Charles, and you two bursted out laughing, which made Max stop, looking at you confused.

When you stopped laughing, sitting straight, Charles was suddenly very close. Way closer than before. His face was just a few centimeters away from yours, and it made you dizzy.

You snapped your head to Max, who was looking at you with just as much desire as Charles. He nodded to you, giving you permission.

Charles held your face and kissed you, softly and tentatively. You broke the kiss, looking from Charles’ beautiful eyes to Max’s. You watched as Max shifted closer to you, holding your jaw as he kissed you too.

You couldn’t wrap your head around what was happening, but you were very shocked and equally turned on.

Max’s hand slid from your jaw, down to your neck, and you were still wide eyed, your breathing progressively more shallow. You felt Charles behind you, his hand on your waist, pressing softly. You closed your eyes as Max slowly closed the distance between you again, and you felt his lips pressing against yours. With shaky fingers, your hands trailed beneath his shirt, up his back, nails grazing his skin. While you opened your mouth to deepen the kiss, you moaned, feeling Charles leaving open mouthed kisses to your neck and shoulder, goosebumps rising in your skin. It was overwhelming, because they were everywhere, hands, lips and bodies stealing your breath. Everything was so hot, you felt like removing your clothes and the pulsing in your shamelessly wet panties.

“Take it off,” Max breathed after breaking the kiss, he helped the monegasque, who quickly tore your clothes leaving you only in panties. Max pushed you until your back was on the floor, and he and Charles were kneeling on each side of your body. “Charlie, come kiss her.”

Charles laid down, kissing you gently first, then deepening the kiss until you were pawing his waist and torso under his shirt. Seeing your struggle, he removed the shirt himself, while Max watched, running both hands up and down your thighs. Max suddenly pulled Charles closer, kissing him, their kiss was just as hard and messy as the kisses they had given you. Seeing the way their lips explored each other made you even wetter, and you couldn’t help but run your finger above your slit, your pussy still clothed. They removed each other’s clothes very fast.

They stopped, and Max soon removed your panties, laying between your legs. You moaned as his tongue lapped at your pussy, tentatively and Charles leaned down to kiss you again. Your heart was running insane, so fast you thought it would stop. Charles went lower and mouthed at your nipples, and you reached for his cock.

“Spit,” you ordered Charles, offering the palm of your hand. A little hesitantly, he did, a glob of spit on the palm of your hand and you grabbed his cock again, and he moaned out loud feeling the glide of your hand.

You felt one of Max’s fingers inside you, twisting so good that you had to hold his head, grinding your hips into him. The pleasure of Max working your cunt was so blinding that you lost focus on the handjob, but it didn’t deter Charles, who just decided to fuck into your hand.

You looked down, just to see Max looking straight at you through his lashes. He sucked at your clit, watching you writhe and come undone, grinding your hips on his face, wetting half of his face as he devoured you.

“Charlie will fuck you now, yeah?” Max asked as you recovered, and he carried you to the couch, positioned you on his lap, facing Charles, who just knelt between your legs.

Charles filled you up in one swift movement, and you moaned at the tight fit, melting into Max just behind you, holding you firmly, one hand on your neck, the other across your abdomen. The dutch kissed your neck, biting and sucking your skin, but his eyes trained on the way Charles’ hips started moving into you, you pulled Max’s hand that was on your neck and put it over your mouth, to muffle your moans, he pushed two fingers in your mouth and you sucked. The pressure was deliriously good, and Charles kept blabbering about how good you felt, and how warm was your cunt, and you were making him feel so good, mixed with lots of french expletives. Charles pressed further, his chest against yours as he found Max over your shoulder and kissed him. You felt Max’s hand that was between your bodies, find its way to your clit, rubbing in circles and pushing you even faster to your second orgasm, drooling over the fingers he still had in your mouth, you hips shaking so much you were rubbing Max’s cock with your ass, at the same time that Charles came crashing down, filling you up as he moaned out loud.

“My turn now, yes?” Max said, repositioning you like a ragdoll, while Charles laid down, pulling you on all fours on top of him, as Max took his turn behind you.

Charles pulled your face closer, kissing you all sloppy and open mouthed as Max filled you up to the hilt, making your knees shake. As if he knew, and he probably did, Charles held your hips up when Max started pistoning into you, fucking you so good you could only hold onto Charles and bite into his shoulders to keep yourself from being too loud.

You did not sleep that night. Max and Charles’ stamina wa otherworldly, and you three kept fucking until morning came. Sometimes you just watched them, sometimes you took one while the other rested, sometimes you took them at the same time. With them, you tried more adventurous positions than you had tried your entire life. They had a different way of finding out the workings of your body, of discovering the rhythm you liked and the sound of your moaning echoing on the walls.

The second time they slipped into your room was almost three weeks later, under the guise that they wanted to give your watch back now fixed.

After a little chit chat Max pulled you into his lap and Charles pressed his chest to your back and in minutes you three were naked, touching and kissing and moaning into each other's mouth.

It became some sort of routine, every few weeks, they would sneak into your room, and you’d bang them any way you wanted.

Then they would stay more, bring dinner or put on a movie. They would snuggle with you in bed while the movie played, Max holding your thigh softly and you playing with Charles’ hair. It was good to unwind and forget about Formula 1.

Every day, after they left, you’d whisper to yourself.

“Don’t get too attached, Y/N. They’re your rivals.”

You didn’t want to poison all the sexy moments and all the tranquility they made you feel, but at the same time, you didn’t want to get too caught up in this. It should be fun, but it couldn’t be more than that.

Racing was never a topic of conversation between you, not only because those few hours together were sacred but also because all three of you were rivals and were in different teams, which could get very messy, very quickly.

Eventually, after Barcelona, McLaren brought a new upgrade. Which for you, it was a godsend. Finally, you could get back on your feet again. The car felt lighter and you had much more control. And in Montreal, you finally got the first win of the season. A huge weight was lifted from your shoulders and you even cried a couple of tears finishing the race first for the first time that year. And it was also the first 1-2 you and Lando had ever, which was even more reason for celebration.

You and Lando ended up closing a club for your celebration, inviting the whole team.

Max and Charles were there too, and they spent most of the night in a booth, chatting among other drivers. You knew they were watching you even pretending not to, and it was a matter of time until they had drunk enough to approach you. So you decided to not stay late and just leave.

You bid Lando goodbye quickly, telling him you were tired even if it was relatively early for a clubbing night. As you made your way to the most discreet exit, you felt a hand on your forearm, pulling you to a corner, and you were faced with both Charles and Max.

“Leaving so soon, chéri?” Charles asked, eyes glossy and probably a little tipsy.

“We came here to celebrate you,” Max said, one hand going around your waist. Wide eyed, you immediately pushed his hand away, taking a step back. They were confused.

“Not here. Too public, someone might see us, or even take pictures.”

“Don’t be like that, there is no one around now,” Charles pointed around, and granted, it was really empty on that side of the club, but anyone could walk in any moment.

“I can’t,” you shook your head, “not in public.”

“You’re ashamed of us?” Max squinted, looking into your eyes.

“I never said that. I can’t risk anything happening to my image just because I wanted to screw someone.”

“So that’s how you see us? A good fuck and nothing else?” Max pressed you further.

“Again,” you repeated slowly, your patience running thin, “that’s not what I said,” there was a tense pause and you pinched the bridge of your nose, “look, we all had more than enough to drink, and this is not the moment or the place for this conversation.”

“No, no,” Charles shook his head, “I believe you made yourself clear enough.”

With that, they walked away clearly pissed with you. Going back to the hotel, you knew there was nothing you could do at that moment to change their minds. They wouldn’t understand your point of view that easily, not only because they were drunk, but also because they weren’t a woman in Formula 1. Everyone fed off your failures like vultures, and if it leaked that you were going out not only with one, but with two other drivers, you knew you could kiss your career goodbye.

The media was never the kindest to you, and the majority of the fans weren’t either, so you knew how it would look if anyone found out about you three. They already call you slut without any knowledge of your romantic history, they would ruin your life if they were to know. And most certainly question not only your seat in Formula 1 but also your World Championship.

You just hoped you could explain that to Charles and Max when they were with clear heads.

Only you didn’t.

They never came back to your room, nor did they answer your texts.

Two entire weeks passed with only anguish gnawing at your insides, trying to reach them privately, but failing miserably. They were not only ignoring you, but also avoiding you. You couldn’t take it anymore, so in Austria, you decided to take matters into your own hands. You’d corner the first one you saw.

And that was Charles right before the drivers parade. You were the first ones to get there, which gave you some sense of privacy, well, as much as you could.

“You need to listen to me, this is a misunderstanding, Charles.”

But he straight up ignored you, not even bothering to look in your direction. With a heavy heart, you nodded, moving away from him. Making peace with the fact that maybe this was the end of your little affair. They had not understood you, and had ignored all your efforts to explain, closing the door of whatever was going on.

Resolute, you decided that maybe it was for the best. If they couldn’t understand where you were coming from, then better say farewell already. But you couldn’t help that anguishing feeling in your stomach.

It showed to be true during the race, when you were P4 fighting to get into the podium at least. Max was P3, and he fought tooth and nail to not allow you to pass, even if you had the pace to overtake him. You tried a risky move, one you had learned from Fernando Alonso. Pretend you’re going to overtake on one side, let him defend that side, then push your car to the other side and dive for the position.

You almost did the full move, but when you were going for the position, Max just pushed his car into your side, which caused you to lose control and you spun to the gravel. You just decelerated as much as you could. You left the car and went back to the pits with the help of marshals. You didn’t bother to even look into Max’s direction, feeling your eyes getting teary. You weighted with your helmet on, and only took it off inside the garage, because you didn’t want people to see you cry.

It was relatively normal to DFN because of a crash, and given the history of rivalry between you and Max, it was also very common to collide with him. What made you upset wasn’t him protecting his position, but him purposefully taking you out, like he was just getting back at you because he was angry. You had left enough space for him. Despite the overtaking maneuver being a little risky, you never once got close enough to him that you could cause an accident. He had not slipped and lost control. He had not tried to avoid you. He just ran straight into your sidepod.

“What happened today?” A reporter asked you when you went to the post race interviews.

“What is there to say? I think the images speak for themselves.” You shrugged, feeling tired but not wanting to give the media too much as to not cause a PR nightmare to Amanda.

“Seems like the FIA will investigate Max Verstappen because of today’s incident.” Someone else mentioned, and you couldn’t help but scoff.

“I’m sure they will,” you muttered, voice laced with sarcasm.

The debriefing was just as bad with your Team Principal calling you out in front of the whole team not only for damaging your car but also for putting yourself at risk like that.

“I don’t know what you want me to say, I did what any other driver would do in my position!” You sighed trying to calm down, “don’t make me quote Ayrton Senna to you. If you no longer go for a gap that exists, then you’re no longer a racing driver. You and everyone saw that Verstappen didn’t have the pace to match me, so he just plunged into me to take me out!”

God, you needed an ice bath. And maybe a new punchbag.

You were getting ready to leave when Max came up to you. You didn’t say anything to him, you honestly didn’t even want to talk to him anymore. You just wanted to go home and cry under the shower.

He was red in the face and looked distressed. You couldn’t help but feel defensive, holding your bag to your chest.

“I really don’t want to talk to you right now,” you said, trying to walk away but he blocked your path.

“Listen,” he started and the moment he raised his hand to remove his cap, it triggered you, and you flinched as if he was gonna hit you.

He stopped immediately, because he knew that was a trauma response. He knew that him being angry must have reminded you of your father growing up. He knew all that because he too, sometimes, had this kind of knee jerk reaction.

But you felt sick to your stomach. It wasn’t intentional, but it made you look like you believed he would’ve hit you, and rationally you knew he wouldn’t do that. But your stupid body did.

You avoided Max and walked away as fast as you could.

Back in the hotel you just packed your bags and left, going straight to the airport to fly back to Monaco. You were exhausted by the time you made it home, but you still took a shower and cried a couple of tears under the streaming water.

In bed, you tried to convince yourself this ending for your fling with them was for the best. It was too complicated anyway.

And you tried to convince yourself that you didn’t miss the feel of Max’s lips against your neck, or the feel of your hands pulling Charles’ hair softly. Or the way Charles used to mumble French mindlessly whenever he was concentrating on something. Or how often Max would do his maxplaining with his vast knowledge of the most random topics.

Your body was so tired but your mind just did not shut off.

You were a couple of hours into staring at the ceiling when the doorbell rang. Carefully, you went there, it was the middle of the night, so you checked the door camera to see both Max and Charles by the door.

Slowly, you opened to them. You swallowed, waiting for them to say something. You felt so vulnerable, this knot in your stomach had been tormenting you since the day they walked away.

“I’m- we’re really sorry,” Max started.

“For ignoring you and mistreating you and never once giving you the chance to explain your side,” Charles took a small step inside.

It was like a dam broke, and you ran into their embrace, sobbing. All three of you hugged, Charles with a comforting hand on your back and Max kissing the side of your head. They patiently waited for you to calm down, and then closed the door and walked you to the sofa.

“I missed you,” you murmured, holding Max’s jaw to peck his lips, doing the same to Charles, “I’m so sorry about everything.”

“Can we talk?” Charles asked, “you said it was a misunderstanding.”

You nodded, taking your phone from your room. You sat on the coffee table as you gave them your phone with your instagram profile opened.

“Check the comments on my last post,” you pointed and they sat side by side scrolling through it, the horror on their faces getting worse every second they kept going.

You knew the kind of comments you had on your profile. Hateful, hurtful comments. It had been that way since you made it into Formula 1.

“What a slut” “I bet there’s a reason why Charles hates her” “She never deserved that championship! #Retire” “Ugly bitch” “Whose dick she had to blow to get a seat?” “Overrated dumb whore” “I bet she tried to fuck her way through the grid, that’s why most of them hate her” “Max should’ve crashed into her harder”

It was nothing new to you, Kimi and your PR team had prepared you for years for this type of treatment. And you honestly had grown used to it, learning to ignore.

“This is disgusting, Y/N!” Charles exclaimed, trying to put the phone away, but Max snatched it back, still reading the comments.

“That’s just a regular Monday for me,” you shrugged, “I’m not trying to victimize myself or anything, but-”

“You are a victim, this is not okay!” Charles said.

“What I wanted to say is, I can’t risk us going public. This is what I face just for doing my job, and it would get so much worse if people ever found out. They already believe I fucked my way to the top, to them, we would just confirm their suspicions,” you felt Charles holding your hand for comfort, “it is very different for a woman. And I adore what we have, but I can't put you above my career and my dreams.”

Max extended his hand to you, and you grasped it, letting him pull you to sit between them. Charles kissed your cheek.

“We would never ask you to do such a thing,” Max said.

“I’m sorry we didn’t see what you are going through with the media and our fans.” Charles muttered, pulling your hair back with a hand, and holding your waist with the other.

“We missed you,” Max whispered against the other side of your neck.

In a couple of minutes they had you spread open on the sofa, Charles’ head between your legs and Max’s lips latched on to your nipples. They made sure to apologize orgasm after orgasm, cooing your moaning mess and kissing you stupid.

Routine went back to normal after that. You still didn’t name your affair and decided that for now, it was better this way.

With the upgraded car, you actually managed to pick up the pace and find yourself rising up the standings.

Silverstone was promising, being one of your favorite tracks, and one you knew you could win again this year. You did great both of the free practices, trying to keep your focus now more than ever, to get a chance at the championship again. There were specific races that you’d amp up your security team for safety, but Silverstone wasn’t one of them.

Qualifying day, you went to the track early morning, to meet with your team, talk about the results of free practices and your input. As you walked to your garage quietly chatting on the phone, you felt a hand on your arm, pulling you aside. You yelped, jerking around and you ended up facing the person. A man, and it took you a couple of seconds to recognize all the gray hair, but the evil eyes were still very much the same.

It had been more than a decade since you saw your father for the last time. Gasping, you took a step back to walk away, but he gripped your forearm, forcing you back.

Funny how fear worked, you hadn’t seen him for years, and you always imagined that now that you were all grown up, you’d be fearless, a big girl, brave and face your father head on. But it wasn’t how things happened. Immediately your fight or fight kicked in. Your eyes darted around, trying to catch someone you knew or someone from security.

“Let. Go.” You said, with gritted teeth.

“Is that how you greet your father?” He said, and you pulled your hand from his grasp.

“I don’t have one,” you spat, anger rising in your chest, hand in hand with fear. You wanted to bolt, to ban him from your life forever, to cry and shout all at once.

“I made you. I spent thousands investing in your career so you could be here, a little gratitude would be good,” he said with a fake smile, and it disgusted you.

“I’ll never attribute my success to you, you disgusting piece of-”

He held your face with a hand, pressing your jaw with such force that it made you stumble a step back. You gripped his wrist, trying to pull away but he pressed your face harder, pressing your head against the wall.

“Very careful how you speak to me!” He rasped, gritted teeth and all, “you little shit, you think you are better than me? I turned you into who you are! The least you own me-”

“I owe you shit!” You said, and spat on his face.

“I gave money and a house to that whore you called a mother-”

You snapped, getting a hold of the fear, and you punched him in the face, hard enough for him to get away and you get space to run. You took one single step when you stumbled into someone, and your eyes found Max.

It was a brief second between looking at you, looking behind you and recognising your father. Recovering from your punch, your father tried to get to you again, but Max stood between the two of you, pushing your father’s chest so he stumbled back. Charles arrived soon after with security, as Max explained that this man was to be escorted out and never allowed to come back.

“Chéri, are you ok?” Charles asked, seeing you taking a step back and leaning against the wall.

You nodded, trying to talk but your voice caught on your throat, trying to make sense of what was happening. Your legs gave in and you slid down until you were sitting on the floor.

“Amour, talk to me, hey-” Charles was worried, you were pale and shaking. Max also knelt down beside you, holding your face to try and see if your father had hurt you.

“Get him out,” you said, and Max nodded, going to talk with security.

“Amour-”

“Guys, there’s cameras around the corner!” Lewis showed up out of nowhere.

“I’m fine,” you managed to blurt, holding on the wall to stand up.

“Hey, hey-” Charles tried to hold your arm but you took a step back.

“I’m fine,” you repeated, walking away back into the garage.

Your mind was spinning, all over the place, and through text you told Charles and Max that you were fine and wanted to be alone. The qualifying was a shitshow. Your mind was completely all over the place, and even making it to Q2, you couldn’t go farther than P14, it felt like the car wasn’t responding to your commands.

You came out of qualy completely pissed. At your father, for showing up and ruining your good streak of races. At yourself, for letting him get to your head, for still giving him so much power over you. You walked away without a second thought, went to your room and kicked your boots off.

Press talk was another shit. You couldn’t pay attention to most questions, gave monosyllabic answers, and couldn’t explain why your qualifying performance was so bad compared to the rest of the year.

You just apologized to your team during debriefing, and silently acquiesced to whatever the strategy for the race was. Kimi had texted you asking about what happened, you didn’t want to talk to him just yet.

You were getting ready to leave for the day, when Fernando came into your room.

“I don’t want to talk, Nando,” you held your bag, not even bothering to look at him.

“Good, because I do the talking then. Go, sit down.” He pretty much ordered, his face stony and serious in a way you hadn't seen before. “What happened today?”

“I’ve got a lot going on,” it was all you said.

“Your father showed up, messed with your head and with your confidence,” Fernando said, with the certainty of someone who knew you really well. You wondered if the whole grid knew about your father’s presence today. You gulped. “Look, this is something you will master with time, but I’m going to tell you now. When you put your helmet on and get in the car, you’re a racer, nothing more. Your problems, your worries, they stay back and they never cross your mind for the entirety of the race. Out on the track, you’re one with the car, doing your best is the only thing that matters.” Fernando pressed his index finger softly to your forehead, as if he was quite literally putting it in your head, “Clear. Your. Mind.”

You sniffled, wiping the one tear that came down. Fernando’s face softened, but you knew he wanted only the best for you. And he was right. You kept giving your father this power. You handed him the power. You couldn’t keep letting him get away with it. This was the one thing you knew you were good at, your calling, your destiny and all your hard work. And you’d be damned if your father would keep a hold over your life.

“Clear my mind,” you inhaled, nodding.

You did your best to study your strategy for the day, to focus on what you could do to achieve the best result.

Early the next morning, you went to the FIA, to request access to the camera footage to find images of the altercation between you and your father the day before. The representative you talked to was initially reluctant but once you told him what had happened, he was quick to help you. You explained that it was for the better that none of that came to light, and hopefully you could get your father to be completely banned from Formula One. The representative prepared a report and assured you that your complaint would be taken seriously and they’d work on the matter as fast and as discreetly as possible.

You went to meet your team and go over and over plan A, B and C. When you got in the car, ready to race, you still hadn’t talked with Max or Charles, and you were hopeful to catch them after. Attaching the helmet, you breathed in, slowly, remembering Fernando’s words.

Clear your mind.

You raced like there was no tomorrow, only thinking of the next turn and the next car you had to overtake, you didn’t think of who it was or when, you just did it. In the future, that race was going down in history as a masterclass in overtaking and taking every little opportunity thrown your way. The time passed really fast, and when you came to be, you heard Jace screaming in your ears that you had made it. You had made it to P1 and taken the checkered flag.

Your voice was shaky as you thanked the team and Jace on the radio.

When you left, running towards your team, they congratulated you and despite the great desire to run towards Max and Charles, who were on the podium with you, you somehow managed to find Fernando. You ran towards him, jumping in his arms, not even minding the way your helmets hit with a loud thud. He hugged you, removing your feet from the ground.

“Thank you! Gracias, muchas gracias, Fernando!” You shouted hoping he could hear you with both visors up.

He patted your shoulder as you had to run back to get weighted and to post-race interview.

“Wow, I’m at a loss for words right now! You were a true Lioness during this race! Can you tell us what happened after the difficult Qualy yesterday?” Jenson Button was the one to ask.

“I was in a difficult place yesterday, and I’m very thankful for a pep talk Fernando Alonso gave me, that helped me get back into my jam!” You said, breathless, wiping sweat from your forehead, “I’m also grateful to my team for making the car that matched my energy and focus today!”

“And what did Fernando tell you?” Jenson asked, probably out of curiosity.

“Well, I can’t go out telling my secrets, can I? My rivals are all around!” You winked, and left a laughing Jenson behind.

In the cooldown room, where Max and Charles were already watching a montage with all your overtakes on a screen, you walked up to Charles, taking his hand. He looked a little concerned as you had agreed to keep your relationship private. Max joined, patting a hand on your back, and the three of you made a little triangle.

You looked at them with so much adoration, that it hit Max right in the chest and he wanted nothing more than to hold your face and kiss you silly. Charles held his breath for a brief second, being in the moment with the two of you.

“You were brilliant, today,” Charles muttered, low and hoping no mic would catch the sound.

“Unbelievable, Lioness.” Max also said with a discreet wink, then taking a step back and interrupting the moment.

That wasn’t your first podium, nor your first win, but something was different when you kissed the trophy and raised it to the sky. You felt like you’d taken back control of your life and your career. There was nothing that could actually stop you if you put your mind to it, and you knew now. You shitty father couldn’t squander your dreams when you were fourteen, and he couldn’t do it now either. You were so much bigger than him, greater than that pathetic man could ever be.

And you didn’t need him.

You had a mother that, despite not being there anymore, but she’d always be in your heart, a constant source of strength and faith. You had Kimi, who believed you when no one else did, who put his own hand over fire for you. You had Fernando, Seb and Lewis, your idols in this sport, and such good friends. You had Charles and Max, your lovers, and hopefully your future.

That night, as you were laying down in your suite, sandwiched between the two men that stole your heart, came the email with your renewal contract proposition. A five year offer, possible extensions, to make you the face of your McLaren.

You made love with Charles and Max with renewed energy, enjoying yourself and the feel of their love for you. It was just the assurance you needed to say the words.

“I love you. I love you two very much,” you whispered, running your hand through both their hairs, “I can’t promise much right at this moment, like a normal, public, relationship yet, but I do love you.”

“We know. We love you too.” Max whispered and Charles took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“We love you too much to risk you facing awful dangerous things just so we could call you ours publicly,” Charles agreed.

That year, you didn’t get a second championship as you had dreamed, but you proudly stood with your P2 trophy during the FIA’s Prize Giving Ceremony, your chest swelling with pride as you watched Charles’ beaming face with the P1 trophy.

There was some renewed sense of purpose in yourself as you held the trophy, and in your heart, this one meant just as much as the champion trophy you had gotten the year before. This year you had overcome all the demons that had controlled you for a long time, this year you had not only learned to live with the undying love for your mom, but you had also learned about new forms of love. You had somehow rekindled that love for racing, for believing you were the best and could prove it amidst adversity.

And of course, many adversities were still to come, but now you were sure you had in yourself the power to face them.

When the next season started, you had your eyes on the prize.

Even spending a great amount of winter break with your boyfriends, they were still your rivals on track.

You were fixing your suit on the pitlane when they walked up to you.

“I hope you know this championship is mine,” Max said with a smirk. You caught his playful tone fairly quickly.

“Well, I am the current champion of the world, so we’ll see about that,” Charles crossed his arms.

“Boys, no crying when I leave the both of you eating dust, yeah?” You added, biting back a giggle.

“Baby, go easy on us,” Max joked, and you shook your head.

“Never going easy on my rivals,” You added with a whisper, “not even when they’re my handsome boyfriends.”

“See you after the finish line,” Charles winked, and they both walked away.

“Hope you enjoy the view of my rear!” You said, and they left, laughing.

Always rivals, but much more than that.

NOTE: If you want to know why I chose to end the story this way, or have any questions about the characters future, or any random headcanons, drop by my inbox and I'll try to answer most! Thank you so much for the support in this little adventure! Thank you to everyone who dropped a little ask/message asking for more, I'll try and answer you if I haven't yet! (also, sorry if i missed any tag)

TAG LIST: @be-your-coffee-pot @supremebaddietrash @mellowarcadefun @cmleitora @kyuupidwrites @80sloverry @newlifeforus @soulaires @hrrorflm @redwolfxx @icarus-nex @jenniferrvsesi @bborra @leilanixx @hc-dutch @withyoutilltheendodthismess @is-just-a @freetimemachinequeen @saturnchase @butterfly-lover @eddiesbitch83 @elliott-calls @nb26fort @wcnorris @vellicora @mac-daddy-210 @hiraethrhapsody @losore-prone @gills-lounge @enrapturedbythemoon @formula1mount @mightiestheroes @cherry-piee @chezmardybum @whodis-26 @mortallyblueninja @f1mockingjay @dance-the-painting @chanshintien @magical-spit @splaterparty0-0 @maxv33rtappen @heyheyheyggg @mindflay3r @janeholt3 @lightdragonrayne @always-spaced-out @papayatifosi @formulas-bitch @ruleroftheuniverse @raizelchrysanderoctavius @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @alishamai @lanando4 @dark-night-sky-99 @comfortzonequeen @honethatty12 @urfavnoirette

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #lestappen #charles leclerc x you #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x reader #formula one #lewis hamilton #fernando alonso #lestappen x reader #lestappen x you #Spotify

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yourplayersaidwhat · 7 months

Text

DM: Alright on this body you find two rings.

Paladin: Magical?

DM: Yes actually. It's effects are similar to warding bond. Whoever casts the spell will receive half of the damage the person wearing the other ring. But not vice versa.

Paladin: ... I know exactly who should get this. HEY [Wizard] got you a shiny new ring.

Wizard: OH I love shiny things!

Paladin: Just make sure you wear it ok? It'll keep you safer. Since you can't seem to go ONE fight without having to roll death saves.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rogue: This was a brillant plan Paladin!

Paladin: I just wish when I healed myself it would heal the wizard too. That way Druid doesn't have to chase him down.

Wizard: I swear I'm not even trying to get hit.

DM: I swear I go by die roll and the dice gods just choose you wizard.

Wizard: Oh well, with these rings I'm surviving most of combat! I don't even think paladin notices.

Paladin: Honestly it's like a mosquito bite. Annoying at worst. Considering Dm's rolls I'm surprised you go down so often.

Druid: Anyone else low-key kind of shipping the two now.

Wizard: Yes.

Paladin: I've been flirting with wizard this whole campaign. Not that they've noticed.

Wizard: Wisdom was my dump stat you know this.

#shit my players say #rpg #submission #shareable #dnd

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holybibly · 7 months

Note

Heyy if your dark hours are still open…👀👀 would you mind sharing your thoughts about yandere Ateez concubine harem…? Or perhaps any harem that you can think of because I’m very much into this topic🤭🤭🤭

You know what? Today I wanted to be affectionate with you, damn bunnies, and spoil you with tenderness and sweets, but you just provoked my dark side with all these requests, didn't you?

So change of plan, bunnies; we're going down the dark and rough road. I love yandere's concubines, Ateez. God, can we think of anything more seductive and more dangerous than that? From now on, you should send me such requests more often, bunnies. Feed this demon within me.

You entered the palace as the wife of the new emperor. His fourth wife. His glittering war trophy.

When war came, your world was changed beyond recognition. Flames and ashes consumed the luxury and grandeur of the palaces, and the jewels turned to dust, leaving only you, the Ice Princess of the Northern Mountains.

Your life was made of crystal and your heart was made of ice stronger than diamonds, and it was this cold and lunar beauty that caused you to be forcibly married.

Yes, you may have entered the palace as the Emperor's wife. But you were a nobody within the high walls of the palace, just a sad reflection of past your greatness.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had a large harem, not counting the three older wives, but what really surprised you was that it was not only made up of girls, but of young men as well. There were eight of them. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one unique and unrepeatable.

Until one fateful night, you had never met them or seen them in person. It was a lunar festival, and you were its queen. Dressed in silk and the finest translucent tulle, as if kissed by the moon goddess herself, you sparkled and attracted the attention of everyone around you. Everybody, but not your husband. He didn't even look at you, brushed you aside as if you were an annoying mosquito, and sent you off to talk and smile at the guests while he went off to fuck another beautiful concubine.

And then, for the first time in your life, you had a meeting with the concubines of his other harem. And your world was turned upside down for the second time in your life.

It was love at first sight, a fire that burned through his veins and poisoned his mind. And it was all because of you. It was your fault that Wooyoung couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't laugh, and couldn't live. All of a sudden, his whole world was reduced to you and your heavenly, icy beauty. He passionately wanted to melt that ice, make you beg, squirm, and moan as he fucked you unconscious and painfully, filling you with his sperm and marking you as his property.

The only thing Wooyoung ever had in his life was his beauty. He grew up in poverty, living on scraps of food and the small amount of money he was able to pick up from the dirt. That is, until the day the current emperor, who was still a prince at the time, came upon him in one of the alleys, on the run from his guards. Wooyoung's dark fox eyes captivated him at once, and as if he had fallen under his spell, the emperor brought him back to the palace to be his concubine.

Wooyoung was a greedy concubine; there was always something that was not enough for him. He wanted to swim in luxury, to drown in gold and silk, to have diamonds, and to own the whole damn world. The best should be his, and so it was; the emperor gave him everything and more that Wooyoung had a desire for. And now you were in his sights. He wanted you so much that it ate him up from within and almost drove him mad, greedily and viciously, in the most horrible way in the world.

Yes, Wooyoung was greedy, and if he had to kill the Emperor to get you, he wasn't going to think twice about doing it.

One look at you could bring him to his knees. He would crawl to you like a pet if you commanded him to, and that desire was stronger than the hatred he felt for the whole of the world. You could tame his wild temper, and Mingi would want nothing more than for you to straddle him and ride his cock day and night, tearing the skin from his back and shoulders, choking him, and biting him until his will was broken. Mingi was uncontrollable and capricious, passion and fire raging in him, burning everything in his path, but your element was ice, burning him harder than hell itself.

Once upon a time, Mingi was a warrior, one of the great generals of his country, until the war came and destroyed his entire life. It took everything from him—his will, his family, his home. Yes, the war had taken everything from him except for the poisonous rage and the dark, vicious passion that was boiling in his veins. He was brought to the palace in chains like a slave, and that very night the Emperor took him by force and made him one of his concubines. This only made him bitterer.

Mingi was venomous and aggressive, biting and scratching until he bled, but you, you did something to him—you forced him into submission by your very presence, without him even knowing it. The wild, unbridled storm inside of him became the icy surface of the lake, soothing and healing. And Mingi wanted peace. He wanted the touch of your icy hands on his heated skin and cold kisses on his lips. He wanted you.

What is passion if not a flame that is a destroyer of all things on its way to its goal? And Mingi was full of fire to burn this damn palace to the ground to take possession of you.

He was sin clothed in a human body, debauchery and lust embodied in an image of heavenly beauty. The whole of Seonghwa's life had been nothing more than a constant stream of sex and an endless series of lovers. He could not get rid of this feeling; it was like frost on his skin. This constant, painful need was scratching him from the inside out. But when he saw you, all his thoughts were focused on you—on your pure, untouched skin that he wanted to lick and bite, on your slim waist that he wanted to squeeze as he fucked you continuously. On those red, seductive lips that would be simply amazing when wrapped around his dick. It was you he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Seonghwa wanted you to be the one. He didn't want anyone else, only you.

Before he entered the palace, he was one of the most sought-after whores in the brothel, famous for his devilish beauty and his languid, cat-like gaze. There was a line of people waiting for him, and Seonghwa was more than happy to accept them all. He was insatiable, wanting to fuck anywhere and anytime, trying the most sinful and unusual things. He was a real slut. But when the emperor heard about Seonghwa and visited his brothel one day, everything changed. Suddenly, he was no longer just a whore; he became Imeretar's concubine.

Seonghwa's hunger could not be quenched, and one partner would never be able to cope with it. But here you are, pure and radiant like an angel, beckoning him with your immaculate beauty. You were stronger than his dark, insatiable demon of lust. He wanted to corrupt you, to make you like him, and to make you dependent on him, just as he had become dependent on thinking about you.

It is said that whores don't know how to love, but they know how to desire. And there was enough darkness in Seonghwa to consume and destroy the world; to possess your purity and chastity. Then let the world be plunged into darkness until you are alone with him.

Yeosang had never been interested in anything at all. The world was too boring and dangerous for him. He could never care less about it. If he could, he would stay safe and comfortable in his bed for the rest of his life. You were different—distant and cold, but with an inexplicable thirst to live. You wanted to see all the things around you, to experience the cultures and the art. The world was interesting to you, and that was a source of irritation to Yeosang.

Everything about you was fragile and exquisite, and the fact that you didn't see it was what made Yeosang so angry. Don't you see, little butterfly, the world is terrible and dangerous. You would be much better off with him in his bed, far away from anything that could harm you in any way. Perhaps you would finally understand that you shouldn't run away from the safety and comfort of his bed if he were to break you. If that helped, Yeosang would want to destroy you and fuck your little curious brain until you thought only of him. He would spend hours warming you with his dick, days kissing your cold lips, and smothering you with his attention and love.

Yeosang was always aware that one day he would be part of the emperor's household. He had been prepared for this since he was a child, pampered and protected from the whole world, so that there would not be a trace of dirt on his silky, snow-white skin. Always waiting for the Emperor to visit his chambers and warm his soft bed, albeit temporarily. Yeosang almost never left his room, but like all concubines, he had to attend the Moon Festival. And that's when he saw his fragile butterfly. And like everything beautiful in this world, you were too easy to break. Yeosang wanted to protect you, hide you between his sheets, and shower you with care.

Yes, beautiful things broke easily, sometimes too easily—delicate butterfly wings, flower petals, crystal jewelry. But Yeosang wanted to see how the most beautiful thing in the world—human life—broke.

He wanted to eat you alive. Sinking his teeth into you and never letting you go, you awakened in him this wild, all-consuming hunger that he could not satisfy with anything else. You were the most delicious dish of all, and your taste was his only desire. San had always been a little insatiable, wanting more attention, wanting to love more, wanting to more sex, wanting everything this world had to offer him. It was never enough. You walked past him without even looking in his direction, the trail of your perfume settling on his skin and seeping into his body, poisoning him as you went. He wanted you to pay attention to him, to smile at him, to love him, to touch him. Oh, he would never let you go, he would fill you with his cum over and over again, and it wouldn't be enough for his taste. If he could, his dick would be in your pretty pussy all the time, so warm and delicious. He was in desperate need of you, he was hungry for you, and this hunger was all-encompassing.

Ever since he was a child, San had had a voracious appetite, always in need of a bigger and sweeter bite to temporarily fill the emptiness inside him that was growing with him. He had everything he could ever wish for; he had grown up in a loving and wealthy family with titles, but the dark hunger that plagued him was terrible. No matter what it was, he was always in need of more. So one day, when the emperor asked if he wanted to join his harem, San didn't hesitate to accept, but the hunger didn't go away.

You were the most delicious forbidden fruit of them all, and San was desperate to sink his teeth into you. He could almost feel the heavenly sweetness of you on his tongue, and it was driving him wild.

The sky could crash and burn all around him, and he wouldn't care, as long as you could fill him up and satisfy him.

There was no one in this world who could ever be like him. There was no one like Hongjoong. There was no limit to his pride and his greatness, and any praise You never praised him, you never sought his attention, and you were never enchanted by his sharp mind, his sweet voice, or his beauty, which could only be rivalled by the devil himself. And Hongjoong hated it. He hated how much he wanted your attention and your love. He wanted you to worship him, idolise him, and devote your whole life to him. He had to have you in all ways, even if those ways were darker than the night itself.Hongjoong wanted to see you in his golden bed, stretched out on the silk, while he was ravaging your body. He wanted to hear the endless moaning of his name as his cock tore apart the little cunt that was yours. He was in need of it, so much so that his whole body ached.

Hongjoong was a trophy of war, just like you. He was a real prince, who was supposed to be a king one day. His ego knew no bounds, and he was cruel and daring. Of course, the whole of the palace was conquered by the magnificent prince dressed in gold - all of them, except for you.

Yes, Hongjoong was a true prince, and one day he would overthrow the emperor and take his rightful throne, and like every emperor, he had to have his empress. You may not see him now, but the day will come when Hongjoong will be the only sunshine that illuminates your life. And he couldn't wait for it.

Yunho has never been the victim of jealousy. He has always been the recipient of praise and adoration, a constant reminder of how much he is loved. Yunho had no idea how jealousy could be. Or so he thought, at least.

That night, when he saw you in the light of the moon, he had hatred for the whole damn world. How dare he look at what belonged to him? He envied all those who could speak to you so freely; he envied all those who could pronounce your name; he envied his emperor, who did not appreciate your beauty and who humiliated you. Damn it, Yunho was jealous of the very air you were breathing. He desperately wanted to be him—to live inside you and melt into your skin. He wanted to melt into you without a trace.He would have loved to take you to his bed, to kiss every inch of your skin, to fuck you long and slow, and to shower you with compliments and praise. He would like to have you in his arms all the time, writhing and moaning with desire and need. For him, you are the only thing he needs in his life.

Yunho used to be just a servant in the palace. But he caught the Emperor's eye. That very night, he entered the emperor's chambers as his new concubine. Yunho knew about the others; he knew that he was not the only one, but that never bothered him; he was able to share the attention of the emperor. Except you. You were his own, and even the world was not worthy of seeing you.

It would be so easy to have the entire palace blinded, so that no one else but Yunho would have to see your celestial beauty.

Jongho was a man too proud for his own good. In his mind, it was beneath his dignity to pay attention to others and smile sweetly at them. Jongho was the spoiled, arrogant son of one of the most important palace officials, and when his father had the chance to get close to the emperor, he naturally gave him to the harem. But even so, he still considered himself to be better than everyone else, even Hongjoong, who was a prince in his own right.

Jongho was the one who first saw you, quite by chance, when he visited his father on the night you were appointed as the emperor's fourth wife. The Emperor was a real fool not to see how brilliant and magnificent you were—a real crown jewel. You were a symbol of power, strength, and might, an enslaved princess of a once great country, and a black flame of desire flared up in Jongho—he wanted to own you completely.

He wanted you for himself—your thoughts, your will, your body, and your life. He wanted you to sit by his side, to be covered with jewels, and to bear his children. It was easy for him to imagine his hand wrapped around your fragile throat as he fucked you into the mattress, you begging and moaning for him, wanting to be filled with his cum.

Fueled by his selfish desires, his fixation on you became increasingly harmful and dangerous.

Out of all the trophies in the world, there was nothing that was more attractive to Jongho than you. And on the way to what he wanted, murder was never a serious matter for him.

543 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 2 months

Text

A Series of (Un)Fortunate Events - S.R.

Part 2 of 2

Type: two-shot, idiots-in-love, feel-good fic (part 1 here)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word Count: 10,7k (I-)

Summary: A few things had gone wrong on your camping trip with Steve and other fellow agents.

But is that such a bad thing?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, size and praise kink if you squint, semi-public sex kiiinda, language, attempt at humour, FLUFF , Steve being a menace

A/N: written for the Essie’s Summer Lovin’ 300 Follower Celebration hosted by @bigtreefest In this chapter, you darlings shall get "Who thought a place with mosquitos was a good idea?"; "You know this one’s my favourite", trying not to get caught and kinks size and praise, if you squint, as well as semi-public sex

A/N 2: DIVIDER by @firefly-graphics; enjoy y'all 🥰 Several Agent of SHIELD characters are involved - I don't think you need any knowledge of the show to read this

The last sunrays of the day illuminated the crowns of the tallest trees, the shadows casted growing longer and wider. The fire the guys had started flickered in the breeze carrying the fresh cool air from above the lake. The warm colours of the flames danced across the improvised campsite you had settled, its heat not reaching the clothes you had washed and hanged in the nearby group of trees, but certainly had wonderful effect on everyone sitting around the fire. Work done and belly full, you were beginning to feel the miles you had walked taking its toll, pleasant but very real fatigue settling into your body.

And you weren’t the only one, by the look of it.

During dinner, everyone was supposed to share their most surprising moment from the field; but now, the chatter had quieted down, movements growing rather sluggish even as the atmosphere was serene and amicable. Bucky had taken it upon himself to finish the last pieces of grilled meat; the rest of you were simply staring into flames, talking quietly, or shuffled around in search of a soon-needed flashlight.

The sudden rapid – and very distinct – movement on Daisy’s part startled you, snapping you awake from your near slumber.

It wasn’t just you who winced – not that Daisy seemed bothered by all the looks the unsolicited use of her powers attracted, huffing and waving her hand around.

“Ugh. Who the heck thought a place with mosquitos was a good idea? These little bastards love me for some reason… no one told me turning Inhuman had that effect,” she complained, once again striking the annoying insect with a wave of deadly vibrations. “Yes! Finally.”

You stared at her, blinking, wondering if you had actually fallen asleep and this was one of the creations of your hippocampus, nothing but a dream. The fact that everyone was staring too though made for quite an argument against that theory.

“Did you just… quake apart a mosquito?” Bobbi asked, sounding as incredulous – and amused – as you felt.

“Huh?”

Hunter cackled at Daisy cluelessness. “I think she did. Wow. Way to go, Trembles.”

“Tremors, Hunter. Mack calls me Tremors,” she corrected him gently, without an ounce of shame, proud of her murderous accomplishment if anything.“And why – yes, I did. And for everyone’s information, I’m not afraid to do that to any annoying elements on this trip.”

Smile dripping of sarcasm, Daisy turned to Hopkinson, who rolled his eyes and muttered ‘subtle’ under his breath.

A fresh wave of fondness towards Daisy swirled in your chest and you made a mental note to give her a hug just for that. You didn’t want anyone to get into crosshairs for your benefit; you didn’t want to stir conflict – if anything, acting partly like a liaison, you were often in the position of a peacemaker – but you’d be damned if Daisy or anyone else being on your side of things didn’t make you feel loved and appreciated.

You had purposely not sat down next to Steve, even if you had wanted to. You didn’t want to give Hopkinson or anyone else any more ammo and… it was enough that you were wearing Steve’s hoodie, your brain somehow translating it into Steve’s warmth keeping you comfortable. From experience, you knew that if you sat next to him and felt the heat he was radiating despite only wearing short sleeves still, you’d lose it and might actually snuggle him. Even two seats over, you were painfully aware of his presence; and any moment you allowed yourself to think about sharing a tent with him, you were pushing yourself further into the area of crossing The Line.

Crossing it by miles.

“You know that the point of this trip is bonding, right?” May commented dryly, the twitch of the corner of her lips giving away her amusement – or approval.

“Sometimes eliminating the unbearable variable helps,” Natasha said matter-of-factly, gaze flickering to Hopkinson too. “Nothing strengthens friendships like burying a body of a common enemy together. Trust me.”

Mental note to hug Natasha as well, you thought. Or maybe buy her a fine quality bottle of red. She was a fan. You had drunk enough with her to know.

Bucky snickered silently at her side; and the fact Steve just hummed in silent approval and didn’t intervene despite this having been his idea, bonding during a camping trip indeed, spoke volumes about how pissed he was still for the comment Hopkinson had made earlier.

It almost made you feel bad for him; but Hunter’s wide eyes and Bobbi biting back a smile at the nonchalance in Natasha’s tone were simply too good not to enjoy.

However, Hopkinson did not seem to appreciate the gang-up, his face a mixture of offence and annoyance.

“Seriously, guys. Can you at least pretend you don’t play favourites 24/7?”

“No,” sounded collectively around the fire, causing your lips to part in awe; and your chest to feel pleasantly full.

Steve’s voice was no surprise to you, neither was Natasha’s or Bucky’s – or Daisy’s for that matter. Hunter’s too, since he was for any mischief he could get – but May’s voice joining the chorus took you aback a bit. The smile on Bobbi’s face told you that she herself only hadn’t agreed with the rest of them out loud out of diplomacy.

Hopkinson still threw his hands in the air, letting them fall to his thighs with a muffled slap before climbing to his feet and moving towards his tent in a demonstrative dramatic exit.

Bobbi followed his example, standing up too.

“Right. This was fun, guys, but I’m going to bed. Someone planned an insanely long hike for tomorrow,” she said, pointedly looking at Steve, who smiled and raised his hands as if he was giving up when everyone else glared at him too.

It was no wonder they looked at him; the way the flames painted shadows over his arms was simply gorgeous. It was hard not to linger, hard no let your eyes wander.

…and your thoughts were gradually losing filter the more tired you were getting. Maybe you should just go to sleep; if you were out before Steve would arrive, there was a chance of keeping up the façade. Maybe.

You rose to your feet.

“I guess I should go to bed too. I’ll just take a quick rinse in the lake and settle in the tent, that okay?” you said, checking with Steve, who only nodded with a reassuring smile

“Whatever works for you.”

“Take someone with you. Seems like bad luck keeps following you,” May hummed, earning a few chuckles from others.

As you looked at her, her smirk was somehow secretive, causing you to waver. Did she know something you didn’t? Were you cursed? Was this another of the infamous prank wars SHIELD agents sometimes declared? It didn’t happen often, but you had heard stories; in fact, May had such a great poker face that her team had once failed to recognize her as the perpetrator of the notorious whipped-cream-on-hand-when-sleeping prank on Agent Fitz and they only had found out when she confessed months later.

“Yeah, we don’t want you to drown…” Hunter said, wincing when Steve and Bucky snapped their head to him with downright menacing glares. “What?! We don’t!”

You snorted, swallowing the ‘down, boys’ threatening to slip from your lips. It was still nice of them though – they didn’t know Hunter as well as you did. He didn’t mean anything bad.

Or did he? Was he, too, on that prank war that might be and might not be happening here with you as the main target?

“I’ll go,” Daisy said, jumping to her feet, now seriously making you question whether you were turning insane. “What? He has a point. Let’s go—oh come on, die, you blood-sucking little bast-”

Shaking your head, you just accepted it, too tired to care; but making a mental note to check your sleeping bag for bugs and itching power just to make sure.

As you were gathering the few precious pieces of clothes that had survived the marinade attack, including a towel, you couldn’t but chuckle at Hunter’s suddenly wide-awake voice.

“Hey, hold on, do you think that mosquitos who drink Inhuman blood turn into some… superpowered freaks? I read a story about a guy who was bitten by some freaky spider once, and he became a-“

“Hunter… shut up.”

While your feet barely even shuffled towards the part of the lake hidden from the sight of your teammates sitting by the fire, the cool water of the lake certainly awoke your senses anew. You and Daisy barely dipped your toes into water when you felt it started taking effect.

And yet. As Daisy looked back towards the camp, as if making sure no one had followed you, she dropped a bombshell on you which wiped any traces of fatigue as fast as if she fired a gun next to your ear.

“Okay, done deal,” she said, almost nonchalantly by her measures, as she descended into water, “you have to shag Steve, like yesterday.”

You turned to her so fast you nearly toppled over and fell into water just like Hunter had unwittingly predicted. Arms spread wide for balance, hissing as your knee hit the cold water surface, you didn’t – but that wasn’t important. And Hunter was not at all importantat the moment either.

What the--- what?!

And did she have to say it like that?

Of course she did. It was Daisy after all.

“Daisy!”

“What? Come on! He has literal heart-eyes whenever he’s with you. He even has a special nickname for you. That guy is smitten. And you are not at all better, since we’re at it, by the way,” she noted with a smirk, before sliding into water casually as if she was stating a boring obvious fact and not… that.

It left you dumbstruck.

Not that you didn’t want to ‘shag’ Steve. But that was not the point!

Were you really that obvious? Certainly, you couldn’t have been. You were an agent. A professional. Stealthy. And yes, Steve sometimes… looked at you in a certain way, way that made you feel warm and hot all over, but-

You shook your head, following Daisy’s lead, breathing out slowly as the nonetheless welcomed coolness of the lake enveloped you.

“That’s not-"

“Not what?” Daisy questioned, turning to you to show off her arched eyebrow. “Please. Take your lies elsewhere. And hey – the opportunity literally presented itself. I mean, maybe your sleeping bag is full of bugs, better to share with him since you’re already sharing his tent. I mean, you’ll have to be pretty close to each other anyway. It’s a big tent, but it’s not that big…”

She trailed off, a hint of a smile playing in the corners of her lips, your face growing hotter with every word; but there was also something in her tone that made the spy in you hyper-alert all of sudden. Something about the glee in her voice, her expression, the sparkles of enthusiasm in her eyes, her-

-abilities.

The realization dawned to you with a gasp, your jaw actually falling slack.

No. She wouldn’t.

Surely, she wouldn’t have-

Oh she absolutely would.

The buckles which had been securing the tent to your backpack had fallen apart. They had broken conveniently when you had been crossing the river, and in the area where the water was the deepest no less. Steve had had to hold you so you wouldn’t take a dive, Bucky had been too far to pull the tent out immediately, causing it to soak and sink-

“…did you quake apart the buckles that held my tent to my backpack? Because I’m sure they were as good as new when I secured the tent.”

You should be shocked. You should be scandalized. But as you said it out loud, it made perfect sense and Daisy was definitely the kind of person to do something like this given the right motivation.

And boy, did she seem motivated.

“…maybe.”

“Daisy!” You pushed the water with the heel of your palm, sending a solid wave to soak her hair to make her cool the hell down. “What the hell?!”

She laughed as she coughed the water out, shaking it from her hair, something impossibly warm humming in your chest and bubbling out in the form of laughter as well.

God, she had really done that, hadn’t she? You couldn’t believe her.

“What? You two are taking forever. Like… I’m sorry, I like me a slow-burn. But you’re moving like a drunk sloth, I swear. I haven’t decided if watching you two dance around each other is cute or painful,” she emphasized, the brightness in her expression telling you it was the former, but it was a close call. You just stared at her mutely, unable to decide whether to be mortified or laugh some more. “Plus, I’m begging you. You two need to get together just to put Hopkinson out of his misery and show him that it’s a lost cause.”

Your brain latched onto the last piece of information, because in the sea of things you were mildly mortified and rather amused to hear, this one didn’t even make sense.

“What do you mean? What’s a lost cause?”

Daisy chuckled, clearly entertained by a joke you were not aware you had said; a joke you did not understand in the slightest.

When she realized that, her smile slipped, replaced by awe.

“You’re… you’re kidding, right?”

“About what?” you asked, genuinely completely lost – and frankly, slightly irritated, because Daisy gasped at your reaction, laughing again. “What?!”

“Oh my god, how did you not notice? You’re a spy. One of the best agents SHIELD has, ever had, even May says so, and that says a lot,” Daisy noted, causing you to purse your lips, something inside you puffing in pride, effectively distracting you for a moment.“But oh my god, you really didn’t know. It’s obvious! H-jerk has hots for you.”

Blank. Your mind turned blank for a split second, no image, no sound.

Daisy could slap you across your face and use her powers doing so and you would be less dumbstruck.

“What?!”

What the---- what?!

Daisy, the little shit, had the audacity to snicker at your perfectly appropriate reaction – but that was because she was joking, right? She was pulling your leg. She had to.

“Come on, Libra.That ‘keep her warm’ comment? Grade-A display of jealousy – and I don’t think Steve is his type, if you catch my drift.”

You did catch her drift.

Except you didn’t.

“No! I mean--- yeah, I catch your drift, but… he doesn-“ you stopped mid-protest, words dying on your lips.

The idea was… strange at best. Intriguing, in the worst way possible. Plausible – except Hopkinson was being a douche to you 24/7.

Which, now that you thought of it, could possibly be some manifestation of his frustration of you not paying attention to him? But that would make it a lost cause – the bigger jerk he was being, the less you wanted to deal with him… which made him act like even a bigger douche, which made you even less interested in being in the same room as him and leading you to spend even more time with Steve, which would only make Hopkinson--- no. You didn’t not want to get into that vicious circle, getting the basic idea.

Insane and not really a likeable idea; plausible, but not probable.

Even if it did make a tiny bit of sense, you supposed. In some twisted, immature male logic.

“Oh.”

Daisy grinned. “Yeah. Oh.”

Oh she really believed that wholeheartedly, didn’t she? You weren’t even sure what to make of that – but frankly, you didn’t think you wanted to think about that too hard.

Scratch that, it was the last thing you wanted to think about, even if in a way, you understood Daisy’s amusement.

A little.

“Okay, this… today was a long day. I’m done,” you said decisively, earning a chuckle from your companion. “Enjoy the lake. I’m gonna go… before I find out other disturbing facts.”

Daisy, bless her, just hummed. She let you dry up and slip into your sleep clothes – and Steve’s hoodie, because you really liked the way it felt and made you feel, safe, among other things – in blissful silence, only speaking again as she was climbing out of the water herself.

“Well, now that we cleared things up… go shag the All-American golden boy.”

You ignored the pleasant tingle the idea sent through your body, raising your hand to gesture for her to just... stop please, as you gathered the rest of your things.

“Oookay, Daisy. I’m gonna go now. To bed. Alone. Have a good night though.”

“Sure. Night! …and share the sleeping bag!” she called after you as you turned away, causing you to shake your head, grinning like a madwoman now that she couldn’t see you.

Feigning outrage, you yelled back at her:

“Good night, Daisy!”

The tent was illuminated softly, signalling Steve’s presence as you approached it and climbed inside. Your backpack was already stored in the veranda, safe under the roof so none of your remaining clothes would get wet with a surprise night rain or the morning dew.

You lightly scratched on the cloth of the door, a wordless question you soon got your answer to, being invited in.

The warmth in Steve’s voice made your stomach somersault, the smile that had settled on your lips during your conversation with Daisy widening; and as soon as you unzipped the door and revealed Steve sitting on the improvised bed, you found him smiling in return.

He had changed into a pair of boxers and a sleepshirt, a nondescript grey loose thing only he could possibly make appear attractive, but one he liked anyway because the material was soft and airy at once. You would know; you had worn it before, with his scent lingering on the fabric, when you had needed some extra comfort after a nightmare, needed to feel as safe as you would in his arms but couldn’t have born the heat of his body holding you close at the moment.

Something gentle and sweet hummed in your chest at the memory; the sight of him, sitting here waiting for you, erased the last strain of the day.

Including Hopkinson’s annoying but truthful comment and Daisy’s strange theory… and more importantly, her instruction.

You shook your head incredulously at her shenanigans, Steve’s greeting earning a curious edge.

“Hey, you okay? You haven’t nearly drowned, have you?” he questioned, watching you as you climbed into the tent and zipped it up again, his gaze roaming your figure with attentive care despite his teasing.

You rolled your eyes good-naturedly. “Har, har, Captain Rogers. I’m fine, just… come bearing some news.”

“Oh? Tell me.”

He didn’t scoot over to make space for you; he didn’t have to. You didn’t mind his proximity. In fact, you yearned for it; and he knew it all too well.

“Well, according to Daisy,” you said, unable to keep the puzzlement from your voice, “Hopkinson is being a jerk, because he ‘has hots’ for me.”

Steve’s expression darkened, a frown twisting his handsome features.

“I don’t like the sound of that… and why would he be such a jerk to you if he likes you?”

You shrugged before sitting down next to him close enough that your thigh brushed his. It was a little funny, really; the tent had a fairly high ceiling, though not enough for Steve to stand up straight, and it was wide enough for you both to sit comfortably on your own. But sitting beside him, touching him, was an instinct; a magnetic force you were helpless against and didn’t mind succumbing to. Especially since Steve’s face cleared as you did so, reminding you why he was all frowny in the first place.

“Go figure. I guess some men don’t move on from the tugging on girl’s pigtails to show affection stage,” you mused, suddenly unbothered by it; because it was not your problem and the other news was much more fun. “Oh and she thinks that I should, I quote, shag the All-American golden boy.”

A slow grin spread on Steve’s face, his thigh nudging yours. “Now, that I do like.”

“Don’t-“ you warned him, smiling wide, heart speeding up at the twinkle in his eyes and the sheer beauty of it. “The lights are on, mister.”

“Easy fix.”

One hand reaching for yours, the other for the lamp, you felt profound warmth spread through your veins as his eyes observed you, taking in all of you, as if you had entered the tent in a luxurious ballgown and not a pair of leggings and his hoodie. It could be unnerving sometimes, the eyes of an artist looking at you as if you were a fine piece of art, but the emotion captured in that gaze was making you breathless in the best way possible.

As the lamp clicked silently, Steve’s thumb ran over the back of your hand; a small gesture of affection hidden by the shadows, just like your love.

You and Steve had clicked almost instantly.

You had fallen hard.

You yearned for a touch, always.

And so did he.

The perfect match.

Two months ago, talking had no longer been the only thing on agenda for you when he had asked you out. Two months ago, you had found out that Steve’s lips were as soft and sweet as they seemed and drawing was not the only art he mastered. Two months ago, you had discovered that Steve’s hands were not only made for fighting and protecting and creating something beautiful, but for holding you and showing you heaven unparalleled.

You were in love.

You were lovers.

You had just decided to keep it low for the moment – as low as it was possible among spies like Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes or Melinda May, as low as it was possible among the Avengers.

It wasn’t that you were ashamed of each other or your together or worried about professional repercussions – Steve was confident that should it come to it, he could make sure you wouldn’t work on same missions should either of you feel compromised by your relationship. That wasn’t an issue, not truly.

It was just that… he was Captain America. You were a SHIELD agent, half an Avenger, one might say. You had noisy friends and colleagues, and the public already speculated about the nature of your relationship whenever someone snapped a picture of you two together. It wasn’t a question of life and death, even if Steve might argue on that one, worrying his affections might put you into an even bigger danger than you already were on a daily basis. It was a question of comfort.

You wanted your love to be just yours for a little while longer; you wanted your love to be a private place, a shelter, a sanctuary – not a public affair.

So outside the privacy of certain rooms in the Avengers facility, you were still nothing but close friends. That was what you had agreed on, this trip included. Key word of the trip: friends.

You weren’t sure if the façade would hold.

With Steve’s hand now cupping your cheek, you weren’t so sure you cared.

You cared much more about the relief flowing through your body at finally feeling his touch again, an invisible weight, a subconscious tension in the back of your head, melting off your body. That, and you cared that he could see just fine while your eyes were still adjusting, your brain scrambling to put together a mental image of the tent you had seen before.

It was rather difficult to focus now that Steve had kissed your lips, steering your mind elsewhere, but as you briefly met his lips in return – oh so sweet and tempting – one fact about the interior struck you, causing you to withdraw a bit.

“…where’s my sleeping bag?”

You might still not see Steve’s face clearly, but you could hear the smile in his voice just fine.

“Don’t know. Do you need it?”

You chuckled, arching your brow, naively clueless.

“I’m going to sleep, so yes. It’s a sleeping bag. There’s literally its purpose in its name.”

Steve’s hand grasped at your nape to pull you back as you tried to look around, inching closer, his amused gaze boring into yours in the shadows.

“Don’t get smart with me now, sweetheart,” he whispered, fingers flexing in your skin, a signal your body comprehended just fine, just like the message unspoken.

His lips brushing yours again helped too, excitement tingling in your belly, the protest slipping off your tongue but a weak alibi for when you’d reason you had agreed to keep your hands to yourselves in favour of keeping your relationship secret still.

“Steve… we shouldn’t,” you breathed against his mouth, as if you weren’t already reciprocating the affection, parting your lips for him, hand slipping from his own to stroke up his arm to grip on his shoulder, your other laid on his chest.

“No, we shouldn’t.”

Breathing having turned fast and shallow, you welcomed his lips like soil welcomed rain after weeks of drought; parched earth now soaking in relief, new wild life sprouting within, warm and beautiful under the sun Steve embodied as he caressed your skin.

It lit you alive, finally touching him again as you were meant to, as you were longing since had set off for the trip; finally feeling sated after having been drinking every feeble drizzle in the form of a gentle brush of hands he had offered, yet growing thirsty with every drop of affection you wished you could drown in.

You wouldn’t stop for air when he kissed you breathless. When he pulled you to his lap, his palm settling firmly over your back, the only sensible thing your desire-drunk brain could think of was to press closer, hand sliding into his hair, relishing in the way his fingers dug into your flesh with need. You wouldn’t have stopped for air – what was the few agents, your friends, who had no idea your relationship with Steve was way beyond platonic. They couldn’t see you anyway. Half of them already knew; the other half was probably asleep.

Here. Now. Steve’s lips, his hands, his torso firm and steady apart from his wavering breaths, thighs solid but soft and welcoming between your legs. That mattered.

Steve released your lips with a sigh of deep contentment and a teeny protest on your part, foreheads resting against one another, a peck to your lips to sooth you, a peck to his to show you didn’t have enough of him. Not nearly enough. You never would.

The smile he gave you was warmer than the midday sun; that much you could see, your eyes finally slowly adjusting.

“Hi,” he breathed out.

Just like that.

Hi.

The simplest greetingwhose true meaning – I missed you – remained hidden to the world outside of you two. Much like other small gestures today.

A smile; I’m happy you’re here with me.

Catching you when you had slipped; I’ve got you.

Treating your wounds; I’ll always take care of you.

Cradling your hands; you’re precious to me.

Checking up on him; I’m here for you.

Squeezing his shoulders, brushing your fingers over his skin; you’re safe with me.

Agreeing to share his tent; I need you close.

‘Not on my watch’; I’d fight the world for you.

‘We shouldn’t’; I want you.

“Hi,” you said back, smiling too despite the reprimand to come. “You’re a terrible influence.”; I adore you.

Steve ran his hand up and down your back gently, chuckling, brushing your nose with his before retreating and finding your gaze in the dark.

“I love you too.”

Unlike the first time he had uttered it during the trip, you whispered the words in return, rewarded by another sweet kiss, slow and deep, a confession of love written into your very soul, bodies so close they could merge into one.

“Missed you. Missed touching you. Almost kissed you on at least ten different occasions. Wouldn’t even care who’d see,” he confessed, sealing his words with another kiss as if to make up for all the lost opportunities.

“Yeah, me too. You are very distracting.”

Steve grinned boyishly into the next kiss, teeth pulling briefly on your lower lip, the hand on your back urging you to erase ever half an inch between you.

“You tell me. Especially now,” he mused, fingers tugging at the hoodie for explanation, a flicker of satisfaction igniting your chest. Good; for all his shameless attempts to break your will, as gentle as they had been, you had been teasing him in return by simply walking around wearing his clothes. Good.

It took a split second; that flicker turned into a wildfire of another kind as his dextrous fingers slid under the hem of the hoodie, tenderly – and so purposely lightly – brushing the sensitive skin under your ribcage. Your fingers dug into his shoulder reflexively, a soundless moan escaping you at the sensation of muscles flexing under your touch.

“You know, this one’s my favourite.”

Fondness battled with desire in your chest, the awareness of why feeling warm and burning at once.

“I know.”

“Uh-huh,” Steve hummed, lips trailing along your jaw, wordlessly asking you to tilt you head back. Oh how gladly you gave him the space... “You know why?”

You did. You were certain of it, but Steve’s hand on your back slid under the hoodie too, teasing alongside the clasps of your bra and the first and only word coming off your mouth was a pleading yes, the clasps undone a fraction of second later, your fingers plunging deeper into his hair, his lips returning to yours.

“What was that, sweetheart?”

“It’s my favourite too,” you confessed, eyes fluttering open to meet Steve’s burning gaze. “Makes the blue of your eyes pop up…”

He caressed the bare skin over your hip, causing you to almost lose your train of thought again as his fingertips continued their path alongside the hem of your leggings, a deviously innocent smile adorning his lips as he watched your lips part with a sigh and your hips unwittingly buck forward.

The hitch in his voice at that was music to your ears.

“That so?”

“Yeah… and because I-- wore it, the first morning... after,” you whispered, the fond memory of Steve’s lips on your temple coaxing you to greet a new day with a promise of a breakfast and a lazy morning together, both forgotten for a while when you had followed him to the kitchen a few moments later and he had seen you walk in nothing but this very hoodie, deciding he was in a mood for a different kind of a feast and nothing all that lazy.

“That’s right,” he praised, hand sliding under your leggings at last, cupping your heat. Biting your lip to keep quiet, a silent keen of pleasure escaped you still at the relief and the tease all at once, Steve’s lips instantly on yours to drink up the sound with a groan. “Have to be quiet, sweetheart.”

“Thought you liked hearing me-”

“I always hear you… every little sound you make for me, every little sound I coax out of you,” he husked, dextrous fingers working to do exactly that, stirring the flames in your veins hotter, a muted grunt forcing its way past Steve’s lips as his fingertips explored with delight just how aroused you were. “God sweetheart, you’re dripping for me.”

“And whose fault is that? You’re the one who insisted on giving me this hoodie---- ah, and ripped logs apart with bare hands through half of this evening-”

Steve smile tasted devious on yours as you couldn’t but grin at his menacing ways – but by god, what a sight that had been. Lightning could have struck right next to you and you wouldn’t have noticed, entirely hypnotized by the display of sheer strength, the action barely making your lover break a sweat.

Now, when you tugged him closer to take more, to taste more, to get closer, always closer, already drunk on hip lips and nowhere close to having enough, his muscles danced under your hands again, a sheen glow of perspiration forming, the hardness responding to the undulation of your hips a testimony of you not being the only one affected, succumbing to primal desire.

Yet, you felt his obvious upper hand in his voice, the way he preened at your praise, even when hidden under the veil of a faux-complaint.

“You liked that, honey? Like it when I show off my strength?”

He knew the answer and yet you granted it to him in a silent whimper, hand sliding down the hard bulge of his arm, a sensation almost as divine as his fingers sliding past the soaked fabric of your underwear and entering you, the first step on the ladder towards the stars.

“Yes, Steve—love, I-”

“Yes, honey?” he coaxed, lips an inch from yours. “What were you saying?”

“Gentle and strong---and big,” you managed to breathe out as he pumped his fingers in a way he had already learned would lift you higher and higher towards your peak, his gaze hungry as he watched the pleasure distort your features, every little sound you tried your goddamn best to muffle as not to give your friends a show fuelling his effort to make you lose that game and driving him wilder in retun. “Should manhandle me more often-“

“Is that right?” he chuckled warmly, so warmly and content you didn’t have time or space in your mind to feel shame for admitting it, less so since he curled his fingers just like that, mouth pressed to the column of your neck in a demanding kiss, a graze of teeth that nearly knocked your breath out of your lungs, your whole body burning like a supernova about to explode. “I’ll take a note. But for now… I gotta be gentle so you don’t let everyone know how close you are to your Captain.”

And gentle he was; a gentle tease. But as devious as he could be, dark eyes drinking in the sight of you falling apart for him but few second later, a sinful smile on his lips shining with your arousal when he took you apart for the second time, sucking a bruise to your inner thigh as you came down from your high – he drew plenty of his pleasure from your own and was still a giver. He kissed his way up your still trembling body, exposing more and more skin to give love to, until he reached your lips again, muffling both yours and his moan as he slowly entered you at last, taking for himself too, once, twice, no need for rest, but pausing still to feel the shared bliss spreading through your bodies.

Despite Steve’s lips being nothing short of wicked, his hands both tender and all kinds of greedy – an honour you so willingly and enthusiastically reciprocated – the words spoken between you were soft and sweet; and as quiet as you tried to be, there was plenty of space for I love yous without uttering a word.

A gentle touch to angle your hips.

A caress alongside his jaw.

A kiss to your collarbone.

A hungry kiss to his lips.

The grip on your waist.

The dirty roll of your hips you knew made him see stars.

A press of his lips to your lower back when he flipped you over, a lingering moment of reprieve and torture before he entered you again in one smooth movement.

Confessions whispered to your ear and just as sweet and delicate breathed in return.

Love you; need you; gonna keep you.

Yes. More. Always want more of you.

You have all of me.

I’ve got you, love.

You did have each other. Body humming in quiet aftershocks of bliss, contentment settled deep in your soul, you fell asleep curled to Steve’s front, his arm draped securely around your waist, keeping you close.

The one sleeping bag which he had unpacked was but draped over your bodies, way too small to cover you both fully. And yet, you were perfectly warm and safe from the cold and the outside world, Steve’s breathing lulling you to a peaceful sleep full of gentle fire and stars-littered skies resting just at your fingertips.

Waking up came with flickers of blurry images you could hardly distinguish from a dream; but as you found yourself alone, colder than before despite being safely tucked into a cocoon of a sleeping bag, you smiled as you recognized some of them as real.

A morning ritual of a kiss to your temple; a gentle advice for you to sleep a little longer; your body seeking Steve’s on instinct, the hard planes of muscle relaxing again as he gave in and held you for another while, lips pressed to your hairline, an embrace full of love. Bucky’s grumpy voice whisper-yelling from an immense distance, reminding Steve that he had been the one to plan the morning run so he’d better get his ass out and stop shagging his lady; Steve’s sweet grunt so quiet that perhaps not even supersoldier ears could hear it from outside of the tent that yes, but that had been before he knew he’d have you for himself.

The dreams after that you didn’t remember, but you recalled they were awfully sweet and you wished to be woken up just like the first time.

Still, despite finding yourself alone, body slightly aching, the memories of last night and earlier this morning brought a wide smile to your face. The inside of the tent was already perfectly bright, so sun must have been high despite the relatively early hour. In your high spirit, the idea of warm sunrays even made you consider going for a swim in the lake, just to have the excuse to wear Steve’s hoodie later, discarded in a corner, again.

You pulled it over your head, fingers running through your hair to have the worst of your bed hair go away and pull it into a lose bun, you slowly climbed out of the tent, your smile only widening at the beautiful scenery awaiting you – and you didn’t mean your friends barely just getting out of their tents too. The woods, the sun reflecting in the crystal-clear lake, the remnants of the morning mist, the dew sparkling on the grass like thousands of soft diamonds.

Eyes slipping close to feel the sunrays on your skin, you stretched your arms above your head, breathing in deeply, the slightly crisp and gorgeously fresh air-

“I BLOODY KNEW IT!”

Your heart nearly gave out at the sudden cry, making you wince and drop your arms in an instant, seeking the source.

Pulse thundering in your ears from the fright, your gaze found Hunter, turning to Bobbi by his side with his mouth hanging open with shock as if he had just witnessed a real-life Loch Ness monster peek out from the lake and dive back again. Maybe he had.

The tension melted from your shoulders as you sighed, willing yourself to relax again.

Whatever was his issue, it was way too early for you to deal with his shenanigans – you’d leave that to his ex-wife.

You shook your head and turned back, letting yourself to take inventory; your body was aching all over, a testimony to a long pleasant night, thighs, lower back and neck a little stiff. You rolled your neck to relief the tension a bit, then shoulders, tilting your head to one side and then the other, nearly groaning at the stretch and satisfying ache--- only for your work to be instantly undone by Daisy’s loud voice.

“Hunter, what the-- oh my god YES! Fucking finally!” she all but shrieked, the undiluted excitement in her voice causing you to snap back to her, panic rising in your chest.

Because you knew that tone.

This was exactly the tone she had used when she told you to shag Captain America, to share the sleeping bag with Steve. Had she seen your sleeping bag packed, assuming you had listened to her? But she couldn’t have possibly known you hadn’t had a head start and already packed it back again, so why would she give into that excitement so easy, that couldn’t have been-

“What is it?” you blurted out, heart in your throat, brain in an overdrive as you tried to think, think, think-

Your gaze found Steve’s as he and Bucky emerged from among the trees, slightly breathless, the loud ruckus clearly having startled them and making them race back to the camp.

You took a precious second to appreciate the absolute god-like appearance of his, red, red lips, chest heaving, arms bulging now that he put his hands on his hips and looked around with slightly worried and entirely confused blues that reflected the colour of the sky, his hair ruffled by the wind, sticking to several directions as it had lined with sweat.

“Nice badge, agent,” May commented dryly.

And yet, her voice dripped with amusement, the corners of her lips twitching in a smile, causing you to frown.

Nice badge? What did she mean by-

Oh shit.

Oh fuck.

Your hands immediately flew up to your neck, covering the incriminated spot she was referring to, even as you hadn’t been aware there was one.

But there must have been.

A hickey.

You had a visible hickey, not just the one on your inner thigh which you knew Steve was so bloody proud of.

You had a hickey on your neck and now everyone saw it, an undeniable proof that you and Steve had most definitely not shared a tent platonically, but had shared a whole lot more.

You doubted you could blame the bruise – you didn’t even know what it looked like, oh god, you were mortified,why hadn’t you checked your appearance in a mirror, why – on some super-powered mosquitos drunk on Daisy’s Inhuman blood as Hunter had mentioned. And even if you could – you were hundred percent sure your spy training had flied out of the window and if the hickey hadn’t given it away, your imitation of a deer in the headlights when caught certainly had.

Speechless. You were rendered absolutely speechless and while this wasn’t any kind of tragedy, you felt the world spinning a bit. Oh no.

“Not that it’s any news,” May added, a smirk on her lips as all the gazes of those who did consider it news snapped to her.

“What do you mean?” Hopkinson asked, grumpy and entirely stunned.

Bucky snorted by Steve’s side, clearly highlyamused unlike your love and lover.

“You call yourself spies? They’ve been together for like two months and he’s been giving her heart-eyes from day one-“

“A-HA! Called the heart-eyes!” Daisy cried out pointing at you victoriously – and pausing.

Steve used the opportunity to put himself together, approaching you sheepishly and slowly as if he was worried you might actually throw something at him for leaving a badge of honour and shame on your neck. Which you might. Dammit Steven! If you found out that this was some kind of a ploy to make Hopkinson piss off if he really did have hots for you or whatever, you might spend the next night in your own tent alone just because.

“…wait, that means-- so you’re saying I quaked apart the buckles for nothing?”

At that, all eyes turned to her; and Bobbi let out a small sound of surprise.

“Oh! You quaked the— oh. That makes sense,” she said. “Well, I guess I unsecured the food container for nothing too, then.”

It was like watching a cartoon; at her admission, all heads turned to her in comical speed, stunned – and yours and Steve’s most of all, even as he stood at your side at last, a tender brush of his hand to your forearm for support.

Bobbi had done what?!

Something awesome in Daisy’s opinion, that was for sure. The women exchanged a conspiratory smile full of mutual respect and understanding.

All you could do was stare at them mutely. Daisy, well, she hadn’t surprised you all that much, even as you’d never dream of her doing that – but Bobbi? She had a wicked sense of humour and she certainly possessed a no-nonsense approach to things, but-

“Well, now I feel like a sucker,” Hunter said, glancing at his almost-wife. “I mean, all I did was not to tell her that her shoelaces were undone so she’d trip and someone would give her some TLC.”

You turned to him, gaping, no air coming in or out.

Y tu, Brutus?

All three of your friends had been on this, though apparently without cooperation? You were done. You were so completely done. And to think you had considered Hopkinson had been playing pranks on you. He was probably the only person who hadn’t been on this.

“Hunter, that’s awful,” Daisy commented at the sneaky act, causing him to raise his hands palms up innocently. “What if she’d have twisted her ankle or something?”

“Well then even better, wouldn’t it? He’d have to carry her in those--- arms with the biceps the size of bowling balls. And it worked, ain’t it? TLC, big time. Have you seen them when he treated her hands?”

Daisy paused, briefly lost in thought; then, she made a face. She couldn’t argue about that. Just like you couldn’t argue about the possibility of Steve’s solution being exactly the one and you being very much affected by being carried bridal style in his arms like that.

Not that that was the point.

They really might have as well all worked in sync even if they hadn’t, huh?

Except all these things, arranged to get you and Steve together or somehow make you realize your feelings and act on them, were a little late to the party.

“Well, good work, everyone. I mean, it was fun to watch you try,” Natasha said, moving to continue packing her tent, slowly setting the scene in motion again.

“Almost as much fun as watching you two try to keep it under wraps,” Bucky smirked, walking past Steve and patting him on the shoulder. “Sorry to break it to you, but when it comes to undercover, you’d be more convincing as a couple of newlyweds.”

You sputtered at that remark, still to stunned to react otherwise, your famed ability to work under pressure and in unexpected circumstances suddenly nowhere to be found. You guessed it only applied to the field.

“I-” you started, unsure how to continue, feeling too busted – but also relieved somehow – turning to the man whose fault all this was. “Steve?”

He just opened his mouth, too taken aback as well; which you took as a prove that he hadn’t been aware of that hickey, bless him. Which… was curious at least, but he had enough wits to look guilty, so you’d leave that for after you’d process this.

May cleared her throat loudly.

“Alright, now that we established the bad luck that’s been following you was not bad luck at all, I believe we have a long hike ahead? We should move on with packing…”

Yes. Packing. That sounded wonderful. Anything to get the attention off you – though you weren’t sure it would help all that much.

Daisy, Hunter and Bobbi seemed simply too amazed by the revelation and satisfied with their work all the same. And Hopkinson was… something. Processing probably. Certainly not happy for you; you didn’t want to examine why. Even if it would support Daisy’s theory of him actually liking you, which was a wholly different can of worms you did not want to open at the moment.

You shook your head, your smile tight.

“Good call, Agent May. Thank you.”

She casted a small smile your way, actually shooting Daisy a pointed look so the younger agent would stop staring at you. She did; but not before she showed you a pair of painfully unsubtle thumbs-up, setting your cheeks aflame even more than earlier.

Once no one was looking, you lightly slapped Steve’s thigh with the back of your hand, staring him down despite truly feeling relieved you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of the trip hiding anything besides the incriminated spot on your neck. …and your inner thigh when you’d go for a swim.

He observed you sheepishly and gently took hold of your left wrist, lifting your palm from where it had been covering your neck still; his gaze zeroed on that side of your neck – the very side on which you had been lying on when you had woken up, probably having been hiding the testimony to your passionate night from him when he had left you.

His pupils grew a little wider, eyes a shade darker, the hold on your wrist tighter-

“No!” you whisper-yelled at him, the corners of his lips twitching even as he seemed genuinely apologetic. He let you go when you tugged your hands free. “No, mister. You’ve already done enough.”

“Yes, I did… four times,” Steve whispered as lowly as possible, a loud responding groan sounding from both you and Bucky, who probably regretted having enhanced hearing at the moment.

“What?” Natasha asked.

“Believe me… you don’t even want to know.”

Your plan was to pack as fast as possible and get on your way; but there were things to be done. The team was onto packing, cleaning up after the yesterday’s fire, rinsing in the lake – and thankfully, chatting about various things of which none was you.

With Steve’s help, you had put down your tent, now finally dry, and moved on to a the group of trees where you had hung your clothes – now also dry and clean of the smell of marinade if not the stains.

You heard the shuffle of feet before you saw him; you froze in your movements, recognizing the pattern.

Hopkinson cleared his throat, signalling his presence, causing you to sigh and slowly turn to him.

You expected a snidey remark, bracing yourself for him boasting about how he had been right, about the pimping all those weeks ago and about Steve keeping you warm through the night – but to your surprise, his face was set in a pleasantly neutral mask.

It took you aback so much you didn’t make a sound before he spoke.

“So uhm… I’m all packed. You need any help?”

Your eyebrows shot up near your hairline before you could school your expression, your jaw falling a bit slack; a voice in the back of your head, one that sounded a lot like Daisy saying ‘Grade-A display of jealously’, whispered of the guy actually liking you,as unlikely as it had seem.

It did not seem all that impossible now; his posture was stiff and careful, which could be just him being nervous now that he knew you were under Steve’s protection on a whole new level, or being unsure how to approach you – but there was a hesitant interest and warmth in his eyes when you allowed yourself to look at him for long enough. And despite the tension in his shoulders, there was something rather welcoming. As if he was genuinely offering help.

Well, you’d be damned-

The creeping realization must have shown on your face, because his own expression fell, heat colouring his cheeks, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“Oh. You know. Well, this is embarrassing.”

“I little, yeah,” you admitted, your voice a little breathless and a little too high. Did an exchange just happen between you without a single insult yet? Did he really just admit to feeling anything else than the grandiosity of his ego, pointing out he was rather uncomfortable because of something? Wow. Just… wow. “I mean… I didn’t even realize. I’m… sorry.”

Your felt your features twist into a frown, confused by your own words – and feelings. The ‘sorry’ sounded strange to your own ears and tasted even stranger on your tongue, because from the two of you, it wasn’t you who should be apologizing. It hadn’t been you who had been the absolute douche.

And yet, here you were.

“Well, it doesn’t matter. A guy can’t exactly compete with… that, can he?” he suggested, chuckling bitterly.

Your eyebrows, having return to their normal position, arched again.

You understood his point: Steve truly was quite the competition for about anyone. But not for the reason you just knew flashed through Hopkinson’s mind. It had little to do with the size of Steve’s shoulders, the mantle he carried or his absolutely brilliant smile – as much as you admired or adored these things about him. It had much more to do with who he was without the shield; whom he’d still be if the serum fell out of him tomorrow.

You didn’t think he’d understand; he wasn’t in love with Steve Rogers.

“You mean… compete with the guy who’s not acting like an asshole around the woman he likes?”

Hopkinson grimaced, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

“…I kinda deserved that. I’m… sorry.”

“Yup. You di-”

You stopped mid-sentence, his words actually registering in your brain. Did he… did he just apologize? And acknowledged that he had been an ass? Today really was full of shocking revelations.

The satisfaction of this one was too good not to enjoy. And yet. Maybe it was the emotional turmoil you had been riding out the whole morning, maybe the relief of you and Steve not having to hide, maybe it was the lingering euphoria of the previous night – but seeing Hopkinson stand there awkwardly, him, awkwardly, you did feel a little bit sorry for the guy.

You sighed again, this time mostly at yourself. “But hey. Some people are into the whole… golden hearted jerk thing.”

“What?!” he snapped, arms crossing on his chest defensively, as if the word jerk wasn’t the nicest one you could think of when it came to his behaviour. Then, he apparently heard past it – and his face cleared up. “Oh… what?”

Oh you were so going to regret this… and yet, it felt somehow right. Setting your folded clothes on the ground next to you, you met his gaze reluctantly, resisting the urge to sigh again.

“Look… have you’ve been a jerk? Yes. Absolutely. Jealous too, even when not entitled to it. But… I’ve seen you cover people in the field with your own body. Catch a bullet for them too. Save people. I’m not an idiot. Someone who does that? They’re not all bad. Hence the golden-hearted added to the jerk,” you said softly, unable to smirk as you threw in the insult just once more, because damn did it feel good to say it to his face after having to deal with his assholery. “And someone, like, I don’t know, maybe Agent Summers for example, are into that-“

“Wait what?! Angela?”

You had to blink as he interrupted you swiftly, surprised he knew who you were talking about – and that knew her first name. That was a good sign; maybe he wasn’t a completely lost cause yet. A flicker of warmth in your chest lit up, a silent reassurance that you had done the right thing telling him that. It seemed he did care for someone else than himself.

“Uhm, you didn’t hear that from me, but… let’s just say that maybe if you look around back home… you’ll be surprised there are people who have an eye on you,” you concluded.

Hopkinson watched you for a few beats of silence, something in his face softening in a way you didn’t think was possible. There was a hint of a smile, a genuine one, without a biting edge – and to your surprise, without the air of irony, it made for quite an attractive image. You hadn’t been blind to the fact he was a handsome man – one who was all too aware of it – but combined with something resembling kindness, it simply hit different.

“Thanks, Libra. Really.”

A small smile spread on your lips as you hesitated for but a moment before you extended your hand – the final gesture of offering peace even as you hadn’t been the one to disrupt it. Surprised flickered on Hopkinson’s face; but he shook your hand, almost a gentleman’s grip.

Almost.

“But if you break her heart, I’ll break your arm. Minimum,” you said, deadly serious.

He retreated his hand, observing you with uncertain smile.

But oh he’d better be certain. Because you would. If he’d muck up his chance to be better, he’d pay.

“I’d trust her if I were you,” a familiar voice carrying a weight of authority and promise sounded behind you. “And you should know that I’d help her do it if she wanted.”

Hopkinson shot Steve a respectful glare and took a step back, causing the corners of your lips to twitch when he looked back at you. “Understood, ma’am… sir,---Captain.”

You bit your lips to stop the laughter at his sudden nervousness and prompt leave – but seeing Steve squared to a fight, wrapped in an aura of an uncompromising protector, did things to you, so you couldn’t say you blamed Hopkinson for being affected, albeit drastically differently than you.

Heat swelling in your belly, you tried to gather your wits by gathering your clothes; before you could, warm arms wrapped around your middle from behind, gently pulling you to Steve’s front, lips pressed to your neck, right over where your hickey was, now hidden by a scarf.

Smiling and revelling in the contact, you chastised him all the same. “PDA, Steve… and I’m not forgiving you that hickey, by the way. You’re possessive, mister. You’re gonna get me into trouble with my boss.”

“Can you blame me? And I have it on good authority at least one of your bosses approves,” he said decisively. You couldn’t feel his smile over the scarf, but you heard it in his voice, a silent whisper of an apology and seduction at once. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or get you into trouble. I honestly didn’t even realize. I just got… lost in you. Always do… you drive me crazy in the best ways.”

The little sweep in your belly at his flattering confession was undeniable; smiling wider, you melted against his body, earning a brush of lips against your temple, drawing a content sigh from your lips. You could get used to that. Steve’s voice in your ear, his arms around you, a beautiful view of nature…

What had you been talking about?

Ah.

“Same… but your hickeys heal right away. It’s so unfair.”

“True,” he hummed, nuzzling your neck softly when your hand settled over his. “Speaking of fair and unfair… you were far too kind to that jerkface. You’re a good person.”

“I try,” you said with a grin, pleased all the same.

Suddenly spun around, you couldn’t help the small yelp erupting from your lips, and neither the laughter as you landed in Steve’s arms, palms steading you against his chest as he looked down at you with a heart-melting smile.

“And I love you.”

Hopkinson who? The guy had been right. There was no competing with Steve and this moment, seeing him so happy from something as simple as holding you, four simple words that made the world shrink into the small bubble of your embrace, was just one of million reasons why.

Why even after barely two months, you were utterly, undeniably his.

Utterly and undeniably in love.

“I love you too… even when you’re about to drag me god knows how many miles,” you added cheekily, your breath hitching in anticipation as he leaned his head down, alluring lips you already craved again but an inch away.

“I’ll carry you if it comes to it-”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time-”

“Always, sweetheart,” he promised, finally erasing the distance, mouth pressed to yours softly, warm hand between your shoulder blades pressing your closer as your hand slipped to his nape and into his hair.

The awareness of not being alone was but a distant thought in the minuscule corner in the back of your mind. You sighed when Steve moulded your lips to his liking, mouths parting for but a split second and then connecting again, your head beginning to spin, heat spreading through your veins that had nothing to do with the sunrays caressing your skin. You didn’t fight the sensations, letting them consume you, revelling in the fact you two could do that now, publicly; and whenever you would say no to Steve?

When he retreated with a smile, nose nudging against yours, you found yourself grinning like a fool and griping on his t-shirt, the profound happiness in his eyes causing your heart to flutter.

God, you were so very, very lucky. The fact you had good friends looking out for you in their questionable but well-intended ways, only spoke in favour of that assumption.

“Well, I guess that with that… despite all the little misfortunes I had on this trip, I feel pretty lucky then.”

“Yeah? That makes two of us.”

Steve’s grin tasted sweet as he kissed you again, your fingers caressing along his throat awakening a silent rumble in his chest, his hand moving to your nape to keep you in place as his lips grew more demanding, your lips parting oh so willingly to accommodate him, your core burning as the kiss became so fierce you felt a strain in your back from bending backwards just a bit.

“OI PUNK! Just because they all know now, doesn’t meant we want the front row to you necking your girl!” Bucky yelled with too much laughter to his words for anyone think he was truly annoyed. “Knock it off!”

You grinned into the kiss at Steve’s not-so-gentlemanly curse, blinking away the daze when his lips left yours with a muted pop, hands remaining exactly where they were.

Wow, okay.

“Speak for yourself. I’m super happy to finally see them together…” Daisy said, crossing her arms on her chest, a cheeky grin on her lips.

“Oh, it gets old pretty quickly, trust me,” Natasha uttered with a fond smile. “They’re gross.”

“Amen…”

“Come on, guys… we have a long trail ahead,” May reprimanded you all, throwing her backpack on, nodding towards Steve. “Where to, Cap?”

That finally had Steve release you – not before pecking your lips once more, much to your shared delight – his figurative leader suit slipping on, making him stand taller, his voice earning a quality that made everyone fall in line; and you look at him with pride.

“I’m on it, Agent May,” he said dutifully. “Let’s go.”

With that, gathered your clothes in one arm and he headed up towards the rest of the group and to your backpacks; the pile of clothes on one hand, his other wrapped securely around yours.

You were still wearing his hoodie; if he’d let you, you’d proudly wear it for the rest of the trip.

Something told you he’d be more than happy about it.

Complete masterlist

Steve Rogers masterlist

Here we go! I hope you enjoyed the little twist and the shenanigans 🤭 I certainly did. But also boooooy this is so much longer than intended.... ah well, Story of my life.

Thank you for reading and should you leave feedback, I thank you tenfold 💕 May your August be generous to you 🥰

P.S. - check out the rest of the masterlist for the challenge/celebration! I sure have my eye on it 👀

P.P.S - just because I can:

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers #captain america #agent reader #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #a series of unfortunate events #anika ann #essie’s summer lovin’ 300 follower celebration #summer lovin’ celebration #essie’s 300 follower special

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peppertoastuniverse · 8 days

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more than a late night snack – gojo satoru chapter 6: taiyaki contents: gojo satoru x reader, too many beds trope, gojo being a little shit, mentions of intense grief and death, fluff, conflicting internal thoughts

summary: while on your first joint mission together, a new level of understanding is reached when you open up to gojo about your past as he tries to get closer to you in more ways than one.

wc: 4.5k

"..I thought it would help. .. does it? because if– like if you’re not comfortable I can sto–” “no.. it’s.. it’s nice.” voice firm, you close your eyes, body fully relaxing at his touch to gojo’s silent delight. “… hey.” he mutters softly, speaking like you were going to run if he spoke too loudly. concern lacing his gentle actions. you hated it. you didn’t need his pity or his worry, you didn’t need his help or sweet touches. but gojo always fought ruthlessly.

previous chapter ll master list ll next chapter

“hey – oompfh – after this let’s go -“ gojo punches the curse on its side, abdomen lurching forward as you hit it with a blast of light, “ah shit– to get some food –“

“now gojo, really?” you grunt, cringing at the disintegrating body of the large spider curse that was just exorcised.

“m’starving, babe!!” he whines, bright blue scanning the abandoned warehouse you were in, spotting three more incoming curses.

“how are you always hungry?” you mumble, running towards the curses, grinning as you feel your curse energy surging, multiple blasts of light hitting a particularly creepy millipede curse.

“m’a growing boy that needs to eat!” a rustle brings your attention back to gojo as he hits a rather ugly beetle curse to the left of you easily taking it out. huffing, hand resting on his hip, “… and I know you’ll be hungry too, babe. you always fucking ravage the fridge like an animal when you get back- ” gojo adds head tilted to the side.

“gojo -“ you hiss, concentrating on the mosquito curse behind him, trying to ignore his constant chatter. “…weren’t you the one telling me to focus?!” you roll your eyes as you focus your energy to blast the curse behind him, considering if you should have aimed at gojo himself.

“pff, as if i’d let anything happen to you while I’m here.” he scoffs, pushing up his dark glasses, pale face filled with mild offence.

“cmon, just say yes! you can even pick and - and I’ll pay!” he says lip jutted out, pout on full display, easily kicking an ant curse, muttering a soft "red", finishing it off nonchalantly.

you start dusting your cold hands off on your coat as the veil disappears above you, sighing at another job done. you and gojo were in sapporo on your first assigned mission together. you hated to admit it but gojo was right, you did work well together – that is if you didn’t have the need to strangle him every couple of hours. his sheer power combined with your meticulously controlled nature complimented each other.

but currently, you just wanted to warm up. the crisp twilight air was sharp and unwelcoming, it was colder than usual for this time of year. you were starting to lose feeling in your fingers, limbs feeling far too stiff after all of that physical activity.

head turning to you, observant bright blues eyes flicker to your shivering frame, “eh? you cold?”

before you could answer, gojo walks over to you as you eye him suspiciously, taking a hesitant step back when he draws too close. he grabs your stiff hands in his and rubs them, attempting to generate some warmth. was he always like this?

staring at him in surprise, you wondered where this new version of gojo was coming from. recently you’ve noticed that things between gojo and you had become somewhat strange. perhaps it how he would walk closer to you as you headed to dinner after training with geto and ieri or how he was even more annoying recently. you’ve launched so many random items at him just in the past week that ieri offered to carry rocks in her pockets for you. you weren’t sure if she was joking, but you thanked her for her thoughtfulness. you made a mental note to discuss it with geto after sparring. geto needed to gain better control over his dog.

your eyes focus on his unusually thoughtful expression as he brings up your hands still engulfed in his, closer to his plump lips blowing on them.

your heartbeat quickens, warmth spreads across your hands, somehow making its way onto your cheeks. his hands were soft and gentle holding yours, large palms caressing your smaller ones, suspending your worries. it was hard to believe that they were the same hands that absolutely annihilated 4 third grade curses just a few minutes ago. it felt… nice. you allow him to keep you there.

gojo brings your hands down, still rubbing them in his, grinning at the relief evident on your face. inching teasing his face closer to yours, “how about a “thank you so much satoru, you saved my ass from frostbite and you’re soooooo cute” from the ice queen?”

ew, there’s the gojo you know. how egotistical is he?

you exhale creating clouds in the cold air as you forcibly pulling your hands away from his. instead you place your still freezing hands on his warm neck causing gojo to screech in surprise, lanky body jolting away from your cackling. whining your name he pouts, “I was actually so nice to you just now!”

“you'll get over it,” you chuckle you walk past a sulking gojo, pausing to look back at him with a raised eyebrow, “thought you wanted food?”

gojo's eyes immediately brighten as he walks to you with a pep in his step – you chuckle at how quickly his mood changes. gojo hums as he easily falls into place by your side. a small smile finds a way on his rosy face as you move closer to him attempting to steal some of his warmth as you pull your coat tighter on your body.

“how are you not cold right, now?” you ask shivering, taking into account his thin jacket.

he shrugs, “I dunno, I’m perfect I guess.” You shove him away, his laughter echoing in the foyer of the darkening warehouse.

your footsteps shuffle amongst the fallen leaves, as you make your way into the village. you feel a creeping strange new comfort in gojo’s company. he always seemed to find something to talk about.

“… and even after all of that, shoko still sided with suguru! can you believe that?! my closest friends – baby and boo – conspiring against me, and I didn’t even do anything – “

“oh my god gojo, you’re the one who forgot to put up the veil – “

“a minor detail, babe!” gojo says waving his hand back and forth to shoo away your reasoning.

stopping in your tracks you stare at the bright lights ahead of you, steam coming in waves coaxing you out of the darkness. Noticing your sudden stillness, gojo’s attention goes towards the small, charming stand, “oooooooh! taiyaki! d’ya want to go get some?” he asks as you, studying your expression as you nod enthusiastically eager to warm up. gojo practically bounces up and down at your approval and runs to the stand with renewed energy.

you couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm through your shivers. the small stall had fairy lights twinkling in multiple colours and a handwritten menu, evidently it was family owned. a bundled up cute old lady stood at the front, pouring batter into the fish shaped molds as an equally bundled up little girl beside her watched curiously.

“hi, uh, can we get 4 of the red bean ones? and .. hmm.. 3 - no let’s do 4 custard ones..” gojo lists off immediately, hypnotized by the enticing smell of sugar and batter.

you smack his side, a hushed whisper “gojo, how many are you going to eat?”

“i’ve been starving since this afternoon!! I’m paying anyway,” leaning in closer to you as he huffs dramatically.

man, even the strongest is no match for hunger.

“and one vegetable one, please.” you add, gazing up at the cute little old lady as she chuckles at your banter, crinkled eyes of wisdom shining in the dark.

gojo scoffs, staring at you incredulously, “really? a vegetable one? I didn’t know you had such bad taste, babe.”

“well duh, I hang out with you of course I have fucking shitty –“

gojo bumps your shoulder, jerking his head at two large brown eyes watching you at you.

“… uhhh I mean – bad taste.” turning your attention to the little girl behind the counter.

the little girl shyly looks up at you, gingerly placing the excessive amount of taiyakis each in paper sleeves into a larger plastic bag. you look down at her, eyes softening,

you offer her a little wave with a gentle smile. big brown eyes darting to yours, as the old lady collects payment from a chatty gojo, blue eyes watching your interaction with the little girl with interest.

“I like your hairclip,” you softly whisper to her, gesturing to the hello kitty hair clips perched on one of her pigtails, she clutches the skirt of the older woman. she looked so much like her, she was around the same age when -

you nudge the intruding thoughts out of your head, eyes clouding over with carefully practiced control, determined to stay in the present. noticing the shift in your demeanor, gojo scoots closer to you splaying a large hand on your shoulder, anchoring himself as he leans down to offer a warm smile at curious brown eyes. the little girl darting behind the older woman bashfully.

“akari! say hello to our nice customers!” the older woman scolds with an encouraging smile, the little girl to give you a fragile little wave. you coo internally, waving back brightly soft laughter dancing cutting through the cold air. the old woman hands gojo the plastic bag filled with taiyaki. you bow to the old woman and direct one last small smile to akari who gojo also playfully sticks his tongue out at in farewell. she giggles at his antics and waves back.

not wasting time, gojo hands you your vegetable taiyaki wrapped in a napkin while he holds his custard taiyaki in his mouth. you say your thanks as you watch him regain his hold of his beloved snack, taking a bite before exhaling rapidly to compensate for the hot pastry, the steam escaping from his mouth and the top of the fish shaped waffle as he moans in delight.

you palm your temple in embarrassment, as you hiss for him to be quiet.

eughhhh he’s so gross.

you watch in impressive disgust as he easily pops the rest of the pastry in his mouth despite the heat. “jesus, gojo slow down – it’s not going to run away from you” you knock, your shoulder into his, “seriously, you might choke,” against his muffled “mmppff! m’fine!” he shoots you an exasperated look.

with the warmth of the taiyaki unfreezing your fingers, you blow on the pastry before taking a bite. the crispness of the waffle contrasts softer interior; the egginess of the batter complimenting the sautéed cabbage and carrots inside.

“s’good?” gojo asks turning to you, mouth half full, halfway through his third taiyaki.

“mhm,” you nod happily, swallowing your taiyaki. “here, try some.” you move the pastry in front of his face, inviting him to take a bite.

gojo stares at you, your flushed cheeks from the cold, quiet smile on your face, loose hair billowing gently intertwined with the familiar lavender and vanilla scent of your shampoo, framing your sweet face. you looked so pretty this quickly fading light.

“c’mon your body will thank you for the veggies.” you tease him, mistaking his silence for hesitance.

regaining his senses, “oh? so you care about my body, eh? didn’t know you snuck a peak –“ he easily recovers, cheeky smile on his face, barely containing the amused scoff as you scrunch up your nose in disgust. gojo moves closer to you, easily taking half of your taiyaki in one bite.

eyes widening, “gojooo!” you whine, “that was such a big bite,” you pout at him.

gojo’s eyes sparkle, a grin growing on his face. over the past few days he was growing more aware that you were less guarded with him. you shoulders were relieved of their usual tenseness, a new lightness caressing your frame, your eyes shone brightly when you spoke, unafraid of taking up space.

looking away to hide his rising blush, as he thoughtfully chews the vegetable taiyaki. it lacked the usual sweetness he often sought out in his snacks, but it had a welcoming savouriness that settles well in his stomach, satiating something that he didn’t know he had a craving for.

“aw babe, don’t worry! You can have some of the other ones,” he mumbles. he didn’t know when it happened but he strangely found that you could almost get away with anything with him. you can have whatever you want. he wanted you to be greedy with him.

“so?” you poke his shoulder, immediately getting his attention. “ whatcha think? good, right?” you ask before popping the rest of the vegetable taiyaki in your mouth easily.

“s’ better than I remember..” he says with a finger to his chin. “– but the red bean one is still the best.”

your pout deepens. “uh huh. I see what you have for breakfast with that shitty excuse for what you call coffee.”

“hey! there’s nothing wrong with egg whites for breakfast, babe. ”

“just because that frosting has egg whites in it – “ you laugh. your reach across him to fish out another taiyaki out of the bag he was holding, taking out a red bean one.

he watches you take a bite and laughs in your face when he watches your surprised expression. it didn’t take long to read you nowadays – from that look he knew that he was right – the red bean taiyaki was delicious.

you make your way back to the hotel, intending to get an early night before having to leave for tokyo in the early morning. you were glad that this mission was straightforward. if you were honest - it was nice having the company, but you were glad to have your own room. even if you worked well with gojo, having your own space without complaints of being bored every 15 minutes was necessary.

hmm, maybe you’ll take a hot bath and read that mystery novel that ieri lent you.

you glance at your phone tossed carelessly on your bed, silver phone charm glittering in the dim lights of your hotel room. staring at the star of the charm, you grab your phone to check your messages.

gojo: lol look at this cat [image] (12:24pm) we meeting at the lobby (๑*ᗜ*) ? (2:44pm)

your eyes dart to the top of the screen as a new message pops up:

gojo: still hungry, gna get dins what do you want b? (6:44pm)

you roll your eyes, the black hole is never satiated... but hmm food might be good actually.

you: fried rice pls (6:46pm)

gojo: yes maam b there in 15 ᕙ( •̀ ᗜ •́ )ᕗ (6:47pm)

you settle your bed, undoing the comforter to tuck your tired body into, moaning as you sink into the mattress. wishing that you packed a sweater, you were still chilly.

A knock at the door signal’s gojo’s arrival, getting up to open the door, your socked feet padding on the floor.

“hi babe,” he says as he budges his way into your room, making a b-line to small coffee table in the middle. he quickly sits on the floor and takes out multiple plastic containers of convenience store food. your eyebrows quirk to your surprise.

“sure, make yourself at home…” you mumble closing the door behind him.

he shoots you the best wounded puppy look he could manage. “i got you food! the least you could do is let me eat with you, grumps.” his cheeks and nose are pink from the cold, he runs his large hands through his windswept hair. he takes off his light blue hoodie, carelessly tossing it behind him on the floor, stretching his long body with a groan before opening the steaming containers of food.

“m'getting tired, gojo. leave after you eat.” you huff, sitting at the small table, reaching for your container of fried rice that gojo had opened for you.

his frown deepens. “y’know im gonna put that in the report! babe was in a real bad mood the entire time and raised their voice at the strongest and best looking sorcerer satoru gojo, making him cry.” he lists off, handing you a pair of chopsticks and a plastic spoon.

you snort, accepting the utensils thankfully. “yeah, fucking right gojo, the craziest thing you’ve said is that you’d even do the report. I know you’re going to leave it to me to do.” you say with a huff.

“sa – tor– ruuuu! how come you don’t call me by my first name!” he whines.

you roll your eyes. the minute you stepped into jujutsu tech, you heard the whispers of satoru gojo: arrogant, cocky, the sorcerer who wielded unimaginable power, the future of jujutsu society – the honoured one. you knew he always won, so who were you to challenge him? to everyone else he was the one – the chosen one – but to you he was anyone else. to you he had to remain gojo, never satoru. but you couldn’t help feel comfort in his presence, you couldn’t push down the genuine laughs he coaxed out of you. the rational part of your brain warned you that this was dangerous territory, and your obedient mind knew to keep away from satoru gojo.

“when you stop calling me babe.” you easily deadpan, spooning some of rice into your mouth. humming in content at the warmth. the fluffy rice, contrasting the slight crunch of the aromatic green onions, carrots and peas.

“but that’s who you are. you’re babe,” he says between a mouthful of noodles.

“yeah okay, gojo.” you say acidly, spoon chasing the last grains of rice at the bottom of the container. “you’re the worst, you know that?”

he stares at you eyebrows furrowed, head cocked to the side.

your eyes narrow at his scrutiny, “why are you looking at me like that?”

“you’re so confusing, babe,” he easily answers, scrapping the bottom of the container of the container gratingly, the last of the long slightly greasy noodles gathering on his chopsticks.

“what are you talking about?”

“with that little girl you were like a different person! so sweet and shy, why do I get the grumpy ice princess?”

a hollow feeling returns in your chest. ignoring his comment as you scoff, moving to stretch out on the hotel room floor. you turn to your side facing away from him. you hear gojo hum as he moves to devour a container of slightly soggy karaage.

.“... she just reminded me of my sister.” you say quietly.

gojo’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know you have a sister.”

“yeah. she’s dead.”

“curse?” gojo asks almost nonchalantly, swallowing his mouthful and placing his chopsticks on the table.

“mhm.” you hum, “when I was 8, a special grade took out half of my village.” you mumble, words escaping your mouth before you could hold them in any longer. “mom and dad died trying to protect us, told us to always stick together and run as far as we could. so we ran into the forest, but it found us and I just stood there when.. I couldn’t, I tried..” your voice breaks, words dying pathetically on your tongue. you close your eyes, willing yourself to swallow the pain for just a little longer. breathe. you had to breathe. they were gone already, what’s the point in crying over it? especially in front of him.

wordlessly, gojo gets up and cautiously lays down behind you, ensuring to keep a comfortable distance from you. careful of your emotional state, he moves slowly,worried that you would hide from him if he acted to quickly. you feel his large hand, moving slowly back and forth on your back, your muscles confusedly stiffening at the contact. your body unconsciously lean into his touch before your fractured mind could comprehend it’s betrayal.

gojo was no stranger to touch - he was a tactile person with everyone and was notorious for being unable to grasp the concept of personal space. he was often seen clingy hanging off geto’s shoulders or smothering an infuriated ieri trying unsuccessfully to get a piggyback ride. you were no exception, irritatingly used to him poking your cheek in greeting or even worse patting your head, but this… this was different. there was a gentleness and a hesitance to his touch that you would never associated with gojo. there was something strangely sweet in his warmth that invited you to come closer. you resented how easily his touch calmed the beating of your unsteady heart.

what was he playing at?

your eyebrows scrunch, complimenting your trembling lips, you didn’t have time for his silly games.

“what are you doing, gojo?” you whisper, heart beat feeling unsteady, beating to an unfamiliar rhythm.

“... that’s uh… what my nanny used to do this to me when I was… upset.”

your blink in surprise. gojo was always so confident and sure, his eyes always bright and mischievous, mouth moulded in a consistent grin ready to inflict trouble. it was hard to imagine gojo upset. did his lip quiver before he cried? did his nose go red? did he bottle all his emotions up until he exploded? there was so much you've heard about him, but there wasn't a lot that you knew about him.

“…my uh, my parents weren’t around, so the servants would care for me. I… I thought it would help. .. does it? because if– like if you’re not comfortable I can sto–”

“no.. it’s.. it’s nice.” Voice firm, you close your eyes, body fully relaxing at his touch to gojo’s silent delight.

“… hey.” he mutters softly, speaking like you were going to run if he spoke too loudly. concern lacing his gentle actions.

you hated it. you didn’t need his pity or his worry, you didn’t need his help or sweet touches. but gojo always fought ruthlessly. you hated how every interaction with gojo was a losing game.

“..that wasn’t you fault, y’know?”

“how would you know?” tone sharp and defensive. this conversation didn’t need to happen, you hoped that gojo would be perceptive for once in his life and drop the subject. you just wanted it to be over. this was too much for you, too close.

“you barely know me.”

what did gojo know? nothing. he knew nothing about how in the dead of night you could still hear your sister’s cries begging you for help, or how on your birthday when you’d blow out the candles of the cake you bought for yourself that you wished that you could exchange places with her. he never knew how you’ve never gone back to your hometown. he didn’t need to know how resentful you were when your cursed technique started to develop, arriving too late to help those who you loved the most.

“well.. what I do know about you is that you care a lot more than you let on. you’re stupidly stubborn, so you would’ve tried absolutely everything in your power to save her.”

you fidgeting with your hands, his heavy words falling into your hands, catching them with difficulty. turning your head, you snuck a glance at him, looking at the sun.

the air was thick with an unspoken intimacy. in this moment, you understood the true power that gojo possessed. just a few hours ago he easily exorcised 4 curses but in the dimly flickering lights of your cold hotel room he showed that he was truly merciless. the weight of his words crushing you easily.

but the warmth of his hands against you back, interrupt your scrambling thoughts, stirring an unfamiliar nostalgic comfort in you. did your mother used to do this to you too? you don’t remember… it’s been a long time since you’ve had someone. you were so tired of keeping everything inside, of forcing your grief down into deepest your soul just to create a buoy to keep you afloat. it was in loneliness that you found true rest, a cruel but necessary sanctuary. but with gojo’s growing presence in your life, you were starting to grow restless, it unnerved you.

“i want to, though – know you…” his hands still at the small of your back, words uncovering the unmarked graves in your heart that you buried long ago. “…if you let me.”

your eyes gently open, you shakily inhale. you move to stare up at the ceiling, trying to find your voice.

“she had the same big brown eyes – the, the girl at the taiyaki stand.” you whisper so soft gojo would’ve missed it if he wasn’t paying close attention. “it was.. it was nice to see again.. I almost forgot what they looked like.” voice trembling, controlling slipping through you fingers.

gojo hums, his hand moving reassuringly on your back, attempting to ground you.

“sometimes I think.. i’m getting better and it gets easier. and then I feel guilty that I feel better… forgetting her,” you admit.

“mhm. well, you’re not forgetting her. your life is growing around the memory, so it just seems smaller.”

you nod, not wanting to trust your voice. meeting his eyes, you wondered if he had lost someone too. he must have. being a sorcerer it was inevitable. feeling his touch, all of your words die on your tongue into a comfortable silence.

after some time, he laughs unexpectedly. a bright playful sound, laced with bitterness on at the edges, “isn’t love fucking stupid, babe?”

you snort, lips turning upward ever so slightly. “the worst.” you agree, watery eyes threatening to spill, your cold hands rubbing your eyes. heart lurching at your fleetingly weak smile, gojo grins brightly deciding that if you didn’t have it in you to put on a brave face that he was strong enough to smile for the both of you.

hand caressing your back, his eyebrow quirks as you slowly turn your head to look back at him. your mischievous eyes catch his, “… hmm, I bet you were the worst baby. your servants must have hated you.” his hand drops from your back incredulously.

“what?! nuh uh! I was an absolute angel-“

you inch back to meet his pouting face with a teasing smirk, “you’re so fucking chatty now, imagine you as a kid,” laughter escaping from you, “I bet you cried so much. you were so annoying, an absolute monster. heheh probably cried so hard your hair went white.”

“baaabeeee!!! stopppp, it’s natural. it’s one of my best features!!” he pouts.

but looking at you, gojo thought your best feature was your smile – especially when he was the cause. it was a shame that he didn’t see it often. your eyes would crinkle at the corners, a chaotic delight that he recognized within himself. being this close to you, he wanted to reach out and trace your smile with his fingertips, to touch the smoothness of your cheeks, to whisper in your ears that everything would be okay because he would make it so. he wanted to know what it was like to touch light, to feel beauty. In the comfortable silence that grew, he wondered when the hotel room got so warm.

perhaps it was the richness of the fried rice settling in your stomach or the tiredness in your muscles or maybe.. just maybe, it was due to his reassuring presence that you find comfortably drowsy. you unexpectedly find that sleep comes easy to you, his slow and even breathing reminding you that he was there. you sigh contently, minusculely shuffling closer to him on the floor. heads almost touching, you warmly slip into a dreamless sleep.

a/n: ahhhh! this was a big step for the reader! what did you think of the chapter? -- special thank you to @yung-notorious for providing feedback and suggestions for this chapter, you're the best!! check out her fic, Never Lose Me! -- head image credit: Shokugeki No Soma dividers from: @/adornedwithlight

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snowsinterlude · 9 months

Text

doll parts.

(coriolanus snow x bella baxter!reader)

summary: having been brought back to live recently, you seemed to have lost your memories and still had a lot to re-learn. with that being said, you were personally intrigued by whatever 'fucking' is. luckily, coriolanus knew exactly how to teach you.

based on this ask.

c.w: horror (based in frankenstein and poor things), smut, coriolanus snow, nymphomaniac behavior (on the part of reader), spitting, p in v, porn with plot, rough sex, slapping (m. recieving), overstimulation, angry sex, squirting, edging, creampie, unproctected sex, innocent reader, naïve behavior, dumbification. casca highbottom is mentioned but he's not the main focus, 'virginity' loss, there's gonna be a lot of 'of course's" here

with the shocks of the electricity running through your new brain, you had opened your eyes to the sight of casca highbottom, a scientist who wanted to prove the point that he could bring people back to life.

of course, playing god wasn't exactly allowed, but what does corruption doesn't do?

with a white curly lock in your lustrous hair being something new to your forgotten appearance, you stared at the man in front of you, whom claimed to be your father. and of course he wasn't. he wanted to prove a point; this point being that he could create the perfect woman and shape her into the submissive obedient element you were supposed to become.

you didn't like that idea, and on the first minute he looked somewhere other than you when he brought you to see the outside world, you ran away, wanting to learn whatever you had to learn without the chains that casca highbottom had you in.

it didn't took long for you to come across coriolanus snow, a renowed academy student who was always against highbottom's experiments in dead people and animals. and he was so gentle to you, probably because of your doe heterochromatic eyes (another result of highbottom's tests on your previously dead body), or probably because of your innocent smile and the way your experience with the dead of living beings was killing mosquitoes and butterflies, saying that "there is no meaning for me to let this thing live if it annoys me."

of course, he took that out of your head with the argument that "then, if i, someday end up annoying you, would you kill me?" and you seemed to thought for a long while (that was his concern and the moment he gulped down), shaking your head, but saying "if you gave me anything other than kisses and books and shelter, i would." and he laughed at the way you said that, your eyes almost jumping out of your skull, always so sickeningly wide. you were so naïve, he truly wanted to open your kull, unspool your brain and sifting through it, trying to catch and pin down whatever it was that passed through your head.

he would never do it, though. not when you looked so pretty when swallowing his spit on that same night, licking your lips after a kiss.

then, in the day before, sitting on the couch on his studies, you looked at the page of the book you were leavmfing through, you saw an image of a woman and a man's silhouette. taking advantage of the few things highbottom teached you, you read outloud:

"mis...sio...neh...ry" of course, you still had a lot of difficulty reading, but nothing that could cause harm, coriolanus still tried his best to teach you how to read. he was always so... kind. you wanted to eat him up. but pretty things sometimes are accessories that can't go into your stomach, and that's what coriolanus told you when you tried eating a ladybug, claiming she was too cute for you not to eat it. "coryo,"

"yes, doll?" he asked, reading the papers he had on his hands.

"what is missionary sex?" that caught him off guard.

so now, after explaining how it worked and why it existed, the platinum blonde man finished by saying it could bring pleasure to your body, but it was mainly used for reproduction purposes.

you didn't really care about that last part, the second you heard him talking about 'pleasure', you immediatly got up, almost abruptly walking to him, your bare feet stepping on whatever it had on the ground, the skirt of your dress, that he got used to seeing you without, the shows you were supposed to wear to an early party that you never put on, his jacket, some papers, and finally, you were in front of him.

"i wanna do it," you voiced, taking the papers out of his hand "i wanna do it with you." and "i wanna have missionary with you." you said, eyes wide open to stare at him, you almost never blinkedat all.

"it's sex, doll. missionary is just a position." he said, laughing. though the thought of you riding him made his dick throb.

"position?" you asked, cocking your head to the side. "then there's more?" he nodded to you.

"there are much more positions on the kamasutra than pages on the bible." he said, and you smiled happily, your teeth showing up as well as your voice echoed:

"show me." you said "sex me- fuck, is fucking, right? fuck me. in the positions of the kamasutra." you said.

and god, he was so happy to take you by the waist, kiss you and lead your leg to wrap around his waist.

it didn't took many minutes for you to be without your bloomers, your panties put aside for him to grind his cock on your cunt, teasing you, and you didn't knew, but you felt like you were soaked up in something sticky- your wetness. "t-that's not missionary," you moaned, bucking your hips back at his teasing moves.

"you're right," he answered, groaning as he kissed your frowning face. "that's the clasp position, doll." with his hands on your waist, and yours on his shoulders, he finally penetrated you, earning a long moan out of your mouth.

you weren't a virgin, though you didn't know that, you used to have a husband on your previous life before you died, but you were never satisfied and you have never been- not until he slowly thrusted inside your pussy, making you feel every inch of his dick inside you.

"fuck!" you cried, a cry without tears as you undid the buttons of his shirt.

"what is it?" he asked, a moan leaving his throat as you ripped the shirt and bite his neck, too impatient to unbutton all of the buttons that were prohibiting you from seeing his body.

"i wanna see you," you moaned, slowly bucking your hips back, mouth agape as you let a rude moan leave your head "i wanna see your body."

he chuckled at your words, his hands still holding your body to keep you still as he fucked you. however, it wasn't bad, but you wanted to see how it would feel if it was fast.

"f-faster, please. just wanna see- s-see how it feels." you pleaded, your eyesight blurry as you looked down, seeing how your bare pussy took him in so well, almost devouring him into you.

he promptly obeyed you, going faster and deeper, a moan leaving your throat as his skin slapped against yours. and to see you squirming under him felt like heaven- a sight that no one but him could capture.

even when your walls squeezed his cock and you came around him, your pussy gushing around him, your stamina was still higher than his, which led to you edging him, not letting him cum until you felt so tired that you'd be passed out by his side.

which didn't happen for a long time. for at least six rounds, you were still edging him, slapping him every time he was ready to cum. you didn't allow it.

and by now, you were riding him non-stop, your eyes shut closed as you yourself abused your cunt on his cock, who throbbed painfully and made him throw his head back when he finally cummed inside you, stuffing you rope after rope.

"hey!" you called out slapping his chest, as he still gripped his nails on your skin, marking small crescent moon phases on your skin. he looked at you with an angry frown. "i don't wanna stop just now! i want more!" you said, not caring about his growling state, you thought it looked cute on him.

"god, you're terrible." he grunted, changing positions. "just this one more time and it's over." you nodded, agreeing with him as he finally slapped your clit, making you mewl and squirm under him. "see? you're too sensible, if we keep going," he thrusted "you're gonna have a difficult time walking straight."

"i can always dance." you said, legs spread to let him pound into you. he chuckled, slapping your thigh.

"let's see." he kissed you with a slight open mouth, his tongue battling with yours as he thrusted into you, letting you be a pillow princess for once in the day as you scarred his back with your nails, his pace was quicker than before, probably quicker than yours, and it made you melt entirely, your breathing became heavy and rapid.

when he pinched your clit, you felt strangely dumber, moaning into the kiss that was soon broke apart.

he spit into your mouth, his eyes boring into yours. "swallow it." and you did, crying from the pleasure as he rubbed your clit. "good girl, doll." he smiled.

"d-don't stop, coryo, please. just a bit more and i'll cum- i-i promise i'll let you rest after!" you mewled, squirming as he pound into you.

"hm, i don't know, doll. when i said i wanted to cum you didn't really allowed me to. why should i allow you?" he asked, pecking your temple.

"please. please! i can't hold it in!" you said, your boobs bouncing into the corset you were still wearing. he got rid of it in the blink of an eye, and you didn't even noticed where it had gone, too focused on the pleasure in between your legs as you cried.

he smiled to the view of your body. of course there was a bunch of scars there and there that were already healed, specially the one that connected your neck, but it didn't really mattered to his dick, neither to him. he loved just how doe eyed you were, how dumbly you asked about things and how you didn't questioned him more than once about something, like now.

"i-i'm sorry, i-i just wanted more. i didn't thought about your pleasure- s-sorry, please, let me cum! pleease!!"

"hm. no" he said, grabbing your ass and kissing your temple oh so kindly as he fucked you raw. "let's see how long you will last since you were so hungry for it."

and you didn't last much, just likenhe thought. the more you concentreated on the feeling of his dick on your cunt and the way his balls slapped against your ass, the closer you were to cumming again, and you did just after he came inside you again, smiling dumbly at him as you squirt on his cock, too sensitive from your previous orgasms.

"i'm sorry, coryo" you said, still teary eyed as you hugged him, hand pawing at his chest.

"for?" he frowned, he had already pulled his trousers up, guarding his dick into the fabric.

"f...for edging you, 'm sorry." you said, sleepy and pouty. he chuckled.

"it's okay," he said, caressing your head "at least you said sorry."

and you slept the most comfortable sleep of your post-mortem life, even drooling a bit on his chest, but he loved you just too much to do something about your innocent, naïve nature other than love and cherish it.

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vandal-flower · 9 months

Text

The Type of Boyfriend that Will...

Blue Lock boys that will...

Characters: Various.

Notes: Go ahead, interrogate me in my inbox.

Go to war for you

Had it not been for his soccer career, he'll enlist himself in the army just so he can go to war for you.

Other moments are where there is a cockroach in the room and decides to kill it for you. He might be the type to complain about it, but that doesn't stop him from getting the job done.

If you ever have an argument with a girl that might get physical, be prepared to see him put on a cheap wig just to brawl her for you. Or in some cases, there is no wig.

Annoying neighbours next door that won't shut up when you want to go to sleep. Don't worry, he's got you.

He kisses you goodbye as his battle on the pitch is soon to set, and reminds you to take care of the kids while he's gone. Said kids are the house plants and/or pets.

So, yes. He'll go to war for you.

Seishiro Nagi, Shouei Barou, Rensuke Kunigami, Itoshi Bros, Ryusei Shidou, Oliver Aiku... + your favourites.

Sacrifice himself for you

When I mean sacrifice, I mean sacrifice.

When mosquito season rolls in, he'll stay up all night just to prevent them from stinging you. You have to remind him that you bought the latest mosquito repellent, but that won't stop him.

He'll give you his charger, even if his phone is on the verge of dying. He'll give you the warmest blanket, even if he's freezing cold. He's willing to watch the scary scenes, so you don't have to.

You remind him that he does not have to do all these things for you, but he's too stubborn to even listen to you.

His teammates often tease him for his behaviour, but he takes it with the widest smile known to man.

If it means he has to jump in the pool, in winter, fully clothed, just to get your hair tie, he'll do it in a heart beat.

Yoichi Isagi, Meguru Bachira, Rensuke Kunigami, Reo Mikage, Alexis Ness, Oliver Aiku... + your favourites.

Put his all for you

This man, could be the tiredest man on Earth, but he'll give his all to you.

He's too tired to cook, but you're hungry. Expect dinner in a few minutes. The store is closing in 3 minutes, give him 1 minute minimum. Nothing is stopping him.

You wonder how far he'll go to such lengths in order to satisfy your needs. Do remind him that he too should take a break. But do remember, there is a 50% he'll listen.

If you have not noticed, his love language is acts of service. He is your royal knight, your right hand man, the fanfic secretary you'll definitely get with. You know the drill.

He dedicates his goals to you as a way to say "I love you" on the pitch. And also as a way to say he's better than anyone else.

Yoichi Isagi, Hyoma Chigiri, Reo Mikage, Shouei Barou, Rensuke Kunigami, Itoshi Bros, Michael Kaiser... + your favourites.

Stay with you

When times are tough, he's here with you.

If you wish to be held, he'll hold you. If you wish to have space, he'll give you space. If you want someone to rant to, his ears are wide open. You want a shoulder to cry on, have his it's dry.

He may or may not understand what you are going through, but the fact that he stays with you, shows that he cares.

There were times in his life where there was no one for him to run to. An experience he does not wish upon you, his lover.

If it means just gently rubbing your back, giving you something to eat, listening to your soft or loud cries. He'll do it.

As long as it means he's staying with you, so don't have to be alone like he was.

All of them. (For our peace of mind)

Hi.

My inbox is open. Check out my Rules.

#blue lock #bllk #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #isagi yoichi #bachira meguru #rin itoshi #sae itoshi #kunigami rensuke #shidou ryusei #chigiri hyoma #nagi seishiro #reo mikage #barou shouei #michael kaiser #alexis ness #oliver aiku #vandal-flower

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dewsgremlin · 9 days

Text

hungry Phantom x fishy Rain

Sorry, I'm so obsessed with that hc (just as obsessed as Phantom is with eating Rain)

Before he was summoned, Phantom had never seen a water ghoul.

Fish, yes.

But a ghoul with gills, small fins and scales? No.

Perhaps it was due to the general stress and fear caused by the summoning that Phantom's brain immediately linked the first water ghoul he saw with a familiar image.

Fish. And fish were food. So Phantom quickly concluded that the water ghoul must also be food - ghoul or not.

And from this realization on, Phantom didn't miss an opportunity to sink his fangs into Rain's light blue skin. The slight saltwater smell that Rain gave off made the saliva run in his mouth. And when Rain's bluish gills occasionally fluttered slightly, Phantom would love nothing more than to nibble on them.

One time, Rain was so distracted while playing a video game that he didn't notice Phantom sneaking into his room. And when Rain's demon tail started to whip back and forth excitedly while he was concentrating and the little fish tassels twitched, Phantom couldn't control himself and pounced on it. Weeks later, Phantom still dreamed of the full-bodied, strong taste of the fin on his tongue, mixed with Rain's warm and salty blood.

No wonder, then, that the water ghoul hissed at him whenever Phantom approached him in the days following the incident.

By now, Phantom had realized that he couldn't just bite Rain, even if he wanted to. And Rain allowed him to snuggle up to him in return. Sometimes Phantom was even allowed to lick his light blue skin. Phantom loved these moments when all the ghouls watched a film together and he lay snuggled up to Rain under a blanket and could run his tongue over Rain's neck, gills and small, shiny scales. He noticed how Rain's body tensed up every time, expecting the younger ghoul to snap because it was no longer enough for him to lick the salty sea water off Rain's skin and inhale his smell of petrichor. But Phantom held back.

Most of the time. Because sometimes it just happened that a fang dug a little harder into his skin, which caused Rain to smack Phantom away like an annoying mosquito.

But one innocent look from Phantom's violet eyes was enough and Rain let the other ghoul snuggle up to him again and bury his face in the waterghoul's neck.

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nishloves · 10 months

Text

drunk; kim mingyu

mingyu x reader // words : 1k approx. genre : teeth-rotting fluff. warnings : too many kisses and life cycle of malaria, very slightly jealous gyu too // unedited.

you stumbled as you spilled water on your shirt, a dopey smile on your face as you tried to close the recyclable plastic bottle- only to turn the cap in wrong direction and dropping the cap in the process.

"shit-" you giggled as mingyu stared up at you, his eyes wide like saucers as his mouth fell agape on your ministerings.

"are you alright?" he asked, his eyes on your wet shirt as he looked up at you quizzically.

"mingyu~" you whined, a grin on your face as you stagger towards him, a stumble in your unbalanced steps as you tripped; mingyu was fast on his feet, his arms wrapped around your torso as he pulled you on his lap while you giggled, making his lips quirk up in a smile too.

"are you drunk?" he laughed as you squished his face between your hands, you lips making a pout as you attached your lips with his, "mwah!"

"why do i think that you're drunk?"

"pak pak pakak!"

his eyebrows shot up in amusement as a huge laughter bellowed out of his chest, his eyes lining with tears as he endearingly laughed on your quite accurate representation of a hen.

"hehe~" you giggled as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

"i don't smell any alcohol on you though-" mingyu said, tucking back a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"i am not drunk- that's whyyyyyy," you whispered in his ears.

"it sure doesn't seem like that-"

"won't you believe me?" you pouted, your eyes crinkling up in a perfect puppy eyes as mingyu cooed at you, nuzzling your nose with his, "i believe you."

"as you should!" you grinned up at him, "i am just very happy- i get like this when i am happy."

"what made you so happy then?" mingyu asked, his eyes soft as he admired your face, his heart beating at a rapid pace as he noticed just how close you are to him; mingyu had heard that sometimes you did get extremely silly and almost in a drunken like state when you were extremely happy and it was so contrasting to your normal calm personality that mingyu couldn't help but dote on you- at every given second.

"just-" you started saying but stopped, your brows scrunched up as you leaned in and connected his lips with yours for a short kiss again, your silly smile returning back to your face as you continued, "just because i am happy!"

"you are?" he asked, caressing your cheek.

"yes, i am! and oh! do you know the life cycle of plasmodium vivax?"

"life cycle of what-"

you rolled up your sleeves and puckered your lips, coughing to switch to your singing voice as you started, "when a mosquito bites a human! ow ow, she spits sporozoites in his blood! ew ew! then the little rascals travel up to our liver cells and multiiiiply till our cell bursts!"

"bursts!?"

"oh yeah! then they travel up to our rbcs~ travel yeah! reproducing asexually to bursts our blood cell so that we get a fever!"

"reproduce in our blood!?"

"mhm! and when the female mosquito bite bites us- fertilization take place in her intestines!"

"this isn't rhyming."

"then she bites us again and dun dun! you have malaria!"

"i love you," he said, his eyes soft as he stared at you, a genuine smile lacing his lips.

your lips froze as you grin up at him, engulfing him in your hug and squirming in his lap you said, "i love you too~", it seemed as if your senses had returned after his sweet confession and now heat rose to your neck and cheeks as you melted in his touch, hiding your face in his chest as you murmur, "sorry- sorry if i was being annoying."

when mingyu had not replied for a few seconds you looked up at him, a frown evident on his face as he looked away from you, "you would never annoy me."

"then why are you upset?" you asked as you tilted his face towards you; his face still in a pout and a frown as he sighed.

"how could you ever annoy me? and-" he paused.

"and?"

"and..." he breathed, his cheeks slightly red as he asked, "just how many have seen you in such adorable state?"

your eyebrows and lips quirked up in amusement as a smile broke out on your face, chuckling you made him face you, momentarily taken aback at how freaking handsome your boyfriend was.

"how many?" he asked again, his voice in a whisper as you almost cried because of how cute he was.

"many people- my friends, family members and some of my exes have seen me like this," you said, noticing his frown deepening as you kissed his jaw, "but..." you said.

"but?"

"you will be the one to see it the most, and the only one from now," you smiled at him as you saw his frown morph into a grin as he giggled alongside you, stretching his pinkie towards you he asked, "promise?"

you intertwined your pinkie with his, "promise."

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psychesalcove · 2 months

Note

hii!! ur writing is so cute,

for the celebration i would love a blurb for luke castellan with the quote ֶָ֢ "the first second i saw you i couldn't get over how beautiful you were."

thank u!!

✧.* luke castellan x gn reader (not possessed by kronos au)

part of psyches, 'in memory of those who chose the sea' event !

-> want to participate in the event?

— my posts are completely race and body type friendly (unless stated in title) so no descriptive words here of someone's skin tone or body shape!! feel free to interact:)

it was a night after capture the flag, which meant campfire night. it was definitely a camp favorite event—especially since you don't have to participate if you don't wish.

which is why you found yourself sitting with your siblings on your designated bench and staring off into the orange flames. the sky around the camp boundaries were filled with all different types of constellations, as the gods would clear light pollution for demigods.

as you countined staring into the roaring flames, one of your siblings nudged your shoulder. "babe, your boyfriend over there is looking for you," they said smirking lightly when they saw your cheeks turn a deep shade of pink. they nudged you softly again when you made no move to get up, signaling to you to do so.

you thanked your sibling for their notice of luke before standing up and walking over to where he was; which was on the very outskirts of the forest surrounding camp.

"hi, hon," you said a you walked up to him.

he smiled. "hello to you as well, love." luke met you halfway from where you were and took his hand in yours. "i wanna show you a little something i found in the woods, that okay?" he asked as he practically (gently) dragged you twords the forest.

you mumbled out a quiet yes in return, letting luke drag you to wherever it was he was taking you.

and, that's now you managed to end up by a small creek with fireflies everywhere. you gasped silently as you took in your surroundings. "gods, i never knew there where places like this in here," you said as you walked closer up to the running water.

"not many campers do," luke said, walking up to where you were standing. "they all think of it as simple battlegrounds, and don't usally try to find the small pockets of pretty things,"

you snored. "trying to be poetic here, are you luke?"

he rolled his eyes at you playfully. "you can't blame me, it is really pretty here," he took a seat on the edge of the waterway, waving a hand in the air to tell you to sit as well.

as the two of you sat in silence, you thoughts wondered to how a person's beauty could compare to this. "luke?" you mused, breaking the blanket of silence that was over you two.

he hummed lightly in response, eyes moving from the water to you. you continued staring off into the water, but you countined with your question. "have you ever met someone that reminded you of a place like this?"

he tilted his head to the side. "like you, love?" he asked, brining a hand to rest atop of yours.

"i don't really see how i remind you of a place like this," you countined, gesturing to the water with your hand that wasn't taken.

luke chuckled lightly. "my love, the first second i saw you i couldn't get over how beautiful you were," he countined. "to me, you're much, much more pretty than this, gods, i don't think i could really compare you to anything, you're just, perfect."

before you could disagree, he kept talking. "places like this will always have things that people won't like that much, the bugs for instance," he was right, you thought. mosquitoes are really annoying. "but, you,? there's nothing to dislike about you. i could, and have, gone on for hours and hours about you; to the point were travis threated to prank me every day if i didn't shut up about you. you're the best thing that has ever, and will, happen to me my love." he moved closer you and brought and arm around your shoulder.

"so yeah, i have met someone who reminded me of an even better place than this. and they remind me of home."

#psyches in memory of those who chose the sea event ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑#psyches requests ༉‧₊˚.#psyches writes ཐིཋ๋ྀ࣭⭑#percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy pjo #percy jackson x you #pjo x reader #hoo x reader #hoo x you #pjo x you #luke castellan x you #luke castellan headcanons #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #the heroes of olympus x reader #luke castellan x reader fluff

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moonfl-0-wer · 2 months

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July 2024 - In my garden. Nature is fascinating. I love seeing close-ups. I should honestly buy a macro lens. None of them were dead. I did not kill any. I would never do that on purpose. The moth just decided to sit on my hand and go with the flow. About ten minutes later, it flew away. I think he had trouble flying because he got stuck in a spider web. I took it out and cleaned it a bit.

The snail, well, nothing to say; just decided to travel across my face. For some reason. And I did not mind. Why should I?

And yes, the mosquito. People kill them all the time. I get you, believe me, they can be very annoying. But I do not like killing things. So I do not. And come on, have you ever seen a mosquito full of blood? I have never, before!

Last but not least. A toad. Got trapped somewhere in my garden and I got it out of there. I do not get why people are afraid of them. They are so cool.

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suengmi · 1 year

Text

✧ cat and mouse ✧ 5.5k, m

fucking prick, you had scoffed, taking a sip of your iced soy latte. it wasn't often you let your anger get to you, but with chan sitting in front of you with your friend, saying something dumb about how you tripped this morning, you were about to crack.

pairing: bangchan x afab!reader (no pronouns mentioned) genre: etl, angst, fluff, humour, smut, non idol!au warnings/other: mentions of drunk sex, alcohol consumption, fingering-r, oral-r, unprotected sex, thicc reader (bc hell yes and you don't gotta be thicc to enjoy this!! i encourage all to read its not overly descriptive), a/n at end

♡please reblog if you liked! it rly helps and i love to hear your feedback♡

everything about him annoyed you, his stupid fake laugh, the way he playfully flirted with you and never meant any of it. you were never close to chan by any means; he was a part of your friend group. you had seen him a bunch of times, nothing too familiar, but every time you did meet, he absolutely ripped into you, like a school boy teasing his crush. how fucking mature. he was like a mosquito, buzzing around you and annoying you with every sound. if you had not restrained yourself you would have slapped him like one too.

the first time you had encountered him drunk was about a week ago.

chan was laughing, his arms flailing around as he made some joke about how he wouldn't date you. this added fuel to the fire, the fact that he thought that dating you would be something funny in the first place, amuse in his tone as he gestured to you. he had joked to your friends about how you'd look when you wake up, all puffy and funny to see. and the way your clumsiness would annoy him and how you'd be too hard to keep up with.

your mind pulsing with ideas on how to really annoy him, to get him back for what he was saying.

then again, you were drunk as well.

fuck it, you had thought as you had pushed him into his room by the end of the night, cornering him in the hallway. you had told him you knew what would really piss him off.

the party he had held ending up with both of your clothes on the ground in a drunken fog, whispers of how much he frustrated you between your lips as he let you take control, loving the way you talked down to him and put him in his place.

that morning you had left, not saying a word, gathering your clothes to escape his room. what you hadn't noticed was the forlorn expression on his face when you didn't look back.

why you had agreed to go shopping with changbin and chan around a week later, you have no idea. but, you did want a new necklace, though. the one that chan broke on that night in a rush to take your shirt off, was now sitting on your desk at home, sad and unworn. you hadn't spoken to chan about that night, wanting to forget your druken decision. it wasn't like you didn't want to but, what on earth would you say?

a sour expression painted onto your face as you walked beside changbin, chan on the other side. they were talking about some new game changbin wanted to try. you just followed, sipping the last of your coffee as you listened.

"look, didn't you want a new necklace?" changbin had asked, finger pointing to the alternative jewellery store.

unfortunately, there was nothing you really wanted until one specifically stood out to you. a semi-choker silver necklace, small chains hanging from the sides, and two jagged flame knife like ornaments messily placed between. it was perfect. what wasn't perfect was the price.

"three hundred dollars?! yikes."

"yeah, that is pricey." changbin had said, chan coming to his side.

"it is pretty though." chan chimed in, placing his hand on the glass to get a better look. you watched him as he studied the necklace, his bottom lip between his teeth with thought.

"would look better on me than you." he teased.

you sighed, turning on your heel to leave the store. you weren't in the mood for his antics.

"i think i'm gonna go guys, just don't feel the best."

two weeks later, you found yourself back at chan's for one of his parties. nobody knows what you were celebrating, but you were enjoying yourself, at least.

there's just less than twenty people there, some people you didn't know. though chan hadn't been in your friend group for long, he definitely seemed to be making his way around the group with his charm, everyone loving him more and more each day. anytime someone talked to you about him, you'd smile and nod. but once they turned their backs you'd be mocking childishly about how great he was.

chan this chan that bler blah bler shut up.

the longer the night goes on the more you find yourself observing chan. his smile is wide, laughing about something. stupid little prick. like a damn thorn in your side.

changbin hands you a beer from behind as he walks past, distracting you from your petty glare.

"so he broke your necklace? how?" hyunjin asks, lips frowning because he knew how much you loved it. it was your favourite.

"ah, he was just messing around." you say, trying to not remember how it really happened.

any time your mind wanders back to that night. the way his hand slipped around your throat, had your body shivering. how he placed kisses onto your throat, how hungry he was.

huh?

pfft, you say to no one, pissing yourself off with where your mind was going.

oh no, you've summoned him with your thoughts.

"what about me?" chan asks, skipping over to interrupt your conversation.

you stretch your lips into a thin line. "ah it's just-"

"how on earth did you break their necklace?" hyunjin says, gesturing towards you.

chan just stares at you, amuse on his face, like he's going to spill the beans. he waits for your response, brows raised.

"we were just play fighting." you say as you take a swig of your beer.

"play fighting?" hyunjin questions, brows raised.

"yeah, something like that." chan says, small proud expression on his face.

an weird silence sits around you, you're not sure of how to continue.

"i didn't think you were that close." hyunjin laughs, standing from the seat.

chan slides next to you on the couch, replacing hyunjin, swinging one of his legs over to your own. "we got really close-"

crack, your hand slams down on chan's thigh, leaving a bright red mark. "shut up."

the sound of up beat low-fi music echoes off your walls as you arrive back home.

earlier, chan had happily accepted the offer in trade for helping you make some furniture. changbin had thrown the idea to chan, saying he was better with putting furniture than himself. he was kind of right, chan was currently hyper focused like you had never seen before. his eyes darting back and fourth from the ikea instructions. it's not like you were bad at it, you just wanted someone to be emotional support while you probably made it wrong. but chan had taken over, saying he'd built it before.

you make your way down the hall but as you turn the corner from your kitchen, a little bit too fast, you're met with the door frame.

"ah fuck!" you exclaim, hastily trying to find a place to put the drinks on.

chan chuckles, not even offering a hand to help. "should look where you're going stupid."

you groan, rubbing the offending spot with your free hand. "you're only here because i offered to buy you bubble tea."

chan cheekily grins, getting to his feet to grab the tea, not to console you.

"now," he starts, eyes wide with sarcasm. "that's a door frame, not a door."

he's basically patronising you at this point.

"shut the fuck up, you're so annoying." you say through your teeth, swatting in his direction, he's too fast, zippy like a mouse.

"i'd be rich if i had a dollar for every time you told me to fuck off or shut up." chan laughs, poking out his tongue.

you roll your eyes, placing your drink down on the ground.

"it's the small nails, right?" you ask as you fumble with some nails, half of the packet falling to the floor before you can even lift them.

"yeah, those." chan chuckles, pointing in your direction. totally ignoring the embarrassing mess you made.

it's odd, you were actually getting along, well, in a kind of cat and mouse way. when you had said you were getting a larger bed he had joked about how you'd break it in. at first you thought it was funny, but then realised what he was actually meaning. your slaps were anything but gentle, chan pleading for you to stop.

the two of you finished building the bed in no time, both laying back onto your new mattress in triumph. laughs dance in the air as you talk about how chan had held two of the smaller planks in the curves of his butt cheeks.

"i remember you showed me the chopsticks, but planks? colour me impressed."

"yeah, i've out done myself." he laughs, rolling to face you. "did you end up getting that new necklace?"

"nah," you sigh facing him. "too expensive. i'll keep looking."

chan says nothing, lips pouting in thought.

the next morning, you had awoke to a knock at the door.

"who the fuck comes this early?" you had grumbled to yourself, shuffling your bare feet towards the entrance to open the door. when you looked down, you saw a small package, wrapped kind of badly with a note on it. you bent down to pick it up, knees cracking beneath you. it read -

'nah, would look better on you than me.'

"eh?" you said to no one, unwrapping the present to find with that very necklace you had wanted in that store. your fingers ran across the flames, admiring the beauty before you, price tag still in tact.

you're not sure if this was chan apologising, or just another joke. none the less, even if it was a joke you were still going to wear it. it was perfect, and would match with the many silver piercings on your ears.

a vibration startles you, your phone buzzing in your pocket.

'fuck head' the phone chimed, a picture of chan asleep face first on the couch blinking with the phones light.

you hesitantly agree to the video call, probably not your best angle, you think, as you answer it.

"do you like it?" he asks, his hand placing itself behind his head.

"no." you returned dryly, walking back inside, placing it down on the counter. no, you didn't like it, you loved it. "it's okay."

you clear your throat, kind of annoyed by his call. "why are you calling?"

"no reason." he smiles, leaning back against what seems to be his car seat. "thought you'd like it, dude."

"dude." you mock him, pulling a face at the phone.

he laughs, head dipping for a moment. "cute."

ignoring his charm, you sigh. "chan, what do you want? i wanna go back to bed."

"want me to join?" he questions, one brow raising. you're not sure if this is a joke or not, once again, but you're too tired to care.

"whatever."

you watched him sit forward, placing his phone down for a second, before you hear the rustle of his car keys. "i'll see you soon!"

"what?!"

click, chan had ended the phone call. the little shit was waiting in his car the whole time.

so this was where you were at, chan in your bed for some unknown reason. you're not doing anything, just laying in silence, covers up to your chin. it's kinda awkward. you feel sleep tugging at your body already.

"what possessed you to actually come to my house? you know we're not that close." you felt the words of honesty leave your lips.

"i unno."

you tut at him, "yeah we fucked once, but we were drunk. you still annoy the shit out of me."

chan laughs, turning onto his side, absolutely making himself at home. "it was good, though. well, from what i remember."

you scoff, turning to face him. "yeah, it was okay."

the look on his face kind of makes your tummy turn, he looks hurt but he tries to cover it with a laugh. "i can make up for-"

"chan..." you start, hands flinging down onto the bed. "you don't need to joke all the time. it happened, yeah? it is what it is."

"aw c'mon, i can do better." he half sings.

you groan at his antics, sleepiness making you irritated the more he goes on. "you need to stop. you're teasing gets too much sometimes."

"nah you like-"

"this is what i'm talking about. you never take anything seriously. you always make fun of me, and it makes me feel like shit. do you seriously have no indication of how you make me feel?"

chan frowns, looking down to the doona cover. "i just- i don't know."

"what? you what?"

"you're just so easy to tease." he chuckles, his hand grabbing the side of your arm to shake you.

you sit upwards shrugging him off, frustration in your tone as you rub your eyes. "you can leave if you're not gonna take me seriously."

"okay... you're right." he follows, sitting to face you crossing his legs. he fumbles with his hands, "i like you, okay?"

"huh?"

"i like you."

"i don't like you." you return.

"see, this is why i didn't wanna tell you. you're so grumpy at me all the time."

"yeah, i'm grumpy because you make me grumpy. always pulling on my hair, tripping me and making fun of me."

neither of you is sure how to continue, you just want to sleep. why you let him in is still beyond you, fatigue taking over your decisions, something like that.

"look," he sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "i really like you, but i'm not sure how to be around you. you're kind of cold sometimes, and i dunno how to get past it."

chan's kind of right, you were generally more stand-offish than your other friends, and you were kind of hard to read sometimes. maybe it was just to him. yeah, just him.

"what are you? twelve? so you've been making fun of me for weeks because you... like me?"

"yeeeah."

"you're an idiot."

"sometimes."

"ugh, i'm going to sleep."

you choose to ignore what his saying, but you'd be lying if there wasn't a delight in what you were feeling. it was kind of powerful, knowing you held the next move. you thought about what it would be like to date him, mind reeling with possibilities. and no, the drunk sex wasn't okay, it was mind blowing from what you remember. but then again, it could have just been the alcohol amplifying your experience. then again, maybe he's just joking. just wanted to get into your pants again. either way, you were in charge now.

eventually, sleep tugs at your eyes. you faintly remember feeling his hand slip around your waist as you doze off.

when you wake you feel him against you, one of his hands pressed into your chest gripping onto it for dear life, his hips melding into your own. you barely remember falling asleep. was he holding me this whole time?

you turn your body to face him, his hands still around your waist, fingers fitting into the soft rolls on your side. his puffy lips look so inviting, slightly open and moisturised. he's still asleep, little hums in the air as he breathes. you ponder on what he was saying earlier that morning, maybe he wasn't joking, maybe all of this was a façade just because he wasn't sure how to approach your supposed cold demeanour.

one of his eyes opens, squinting from the faint light from the day. he says nothing. you stay like this for a while, just admiring him. his curly hair looks so soft, you want to run your hands through them again. wait what?

you can feel it, the urge to kiss him. the urge to relive that night you had before. you weren't sure if he actually liked you, or that you liked him, or if it was just physical. regardless, you were curious.

your left hand slowly raises itself to wrap itself in his hair, he allows the touch, head leaning into your slow strokes. he hums lowly, voice a little raspy from the sleep. your hand comes back to his cheek, thumb rubbing just underneath his eyes.

whatever possessed you to kiss him you don't know. nonetheless you lean in, your lips lightly sliding against his soft ones. the kiss is gentle, as if chan is hesitant to let himself go. a small moan leaves your lips, your leg raising to rest on his side. he continues the kiss, hands digging into your sides a bit deeper.

abruptly, he stops. before you can even comprehend what's happening,

"i think... you need to think about this." he speaks, breath mixing in with your own.

"no, c'mon." you go to lean in again to taste him, but he pulls back more, frowning and avoiding your eyes.

"are you just doing this because it's convenient? just because you know i like you?"

"i thought you just wanted to fuck?"

his hand slips from your waist as he moves his body from yours, now picking up his phone and keys. "i'm not a toy you can pick up and use as you please. i have feelings."

"you don't seem to care for mine when you fuck me around all the time." you scoff, "it takes two to tango."

"i know i can be a bit much... but i do have them. don't take my confession lightly." he says under his breath. "call me when you make up your mind."

without another word he leaves, not making a single peep as the front door slams behind him.

neither of you talk for the next few days. he was right, you decide, fingers dancing along the necklace you had chosen not to wear yet. it's like if you put it on it will mean something, mean that you're giving him the green flag to go. to chase you, to want you with permission.

you think back to the kiss, how he hummed as he moved his lips against your own. it sent jolts down to the pit of your stomach every time it enters your mind, the urge to touch yourself strong.

tiredness is in your eyes, you're so damn tired from work and the thoughts that have been swimming in your mind. should i call him?

sighing, you lean back onto your pillows, taking out your phone to scroll to his name. another long breath leaves you, your heart beginning to race. you're confused.

what the hell is that?

do i want this?

no, absolutely not.

i probably just like the attention...?

your legs flail back and fourth on the bed, much like you're having a little tantrum.

wait... maybe?

he is really cute, seems affectionate.

but he fucking annoys me.

frustrated groans escape your throat, maybe one more leg flail will help you decide.

you could always try, maybe, just to see what it's like. it kind of makes sense when you think about. you slap yourself on the forehead, maybe it'll jolt your brain into making a decision.

"okay okay! i'll do it." you say to one of your plushies, trying to hype yourself in any way.

eventually you suck up the courage to call. when he answers the phone he doesn't say anything, just looks into the camera waiting for you to speak. you sit in silence, kind of just staring at each other.

"yes?" he finally chimes, his tone an indication of slight satisfaction.

you scowl, biting on the sides of your cheeks. "fine."

a month had gone by with the slow beginnings of your new relationship. you hadn't labelled anything, deciding to take things slow. it was actually quite fun, much to your surprise. there was always something exciting planned, chan jumping around you like a little kid whenever he won at an arcade game. it was cute. now, everything he usually did to annoy you seemed to become increasingly adorable. whenever he pulled your hair it was for a kiss on the cheek. whenever he laughed it was genuine to what you were saying. he had wriggled his way, just a little bit, into your heart, but not your bed.

it had been a few days since you'd seen him, both of you busy with work and other things. when you lay back on your bed, absolutely tired and fatigued, you hear your phone buzz. you know it's him, your heart thumps. damn heart.

looking down at the screen you see the name 'baby girl'. definitely a step up from fuck head. you answer the call.

"am i still baby girl in your phone?"

"yes." you laugh, turning onto your side.

chan bites his bottom lip, searching your face. "you look beautiful."

"what on earth are you talking about?"

you look at yourself in phone screen, you're definitely not in your best element. the mascara you had applied earlier slightly smudged, hair a little curled from your sweat and one of your eyebrows not properly coloured in. you groan, pushing your face into one of your pillows.

"no, i mean it!" he argues, laughing into the phone.

"whatev-"

"whatever." he mocks you automatically, knowing exactly what you were going to say. some old habits die hard.

the two of you talk about your day, how work was going and what projects he was working on. eventually it ends up in a discussion about the first night you spent together, but not having one like that since.

"yeah, why is that?" you ask, sitting back up in your bed.

"i think... i just want you to be sure."

you hum in thought, "i am sure."

"but this just isn't a hook up. we're dating now? i guess."

"you guess?" you laugh in slight disbelief. "what we been doing for this past month?"

"being cute." he says, eyes rolling comically. "ah, but yeah i guess you're right. if i'm going to be honest i still feel apprehensive."

"you do? why?"

"long story."

you roll to your side, lip pouting at the camera. "i have time, i want to know."

"honesty?"

you smile. "always."

"okay so, i guess it's just... i still don't know if i can believe you like me back. like, hear me out. i know you do, but i'm afraid that you just want the physical because that's how it was before, you know?"

"chan-"

"no i just... i want to trust this. i want to trust you. but something is telling me i shouldn't... maybe that's my anxiety."

a sharp ache, like turning daggers hit the base of your heart, how could he think that? you'd been spending the whole month with him, taking things slow like he wants. yes, you still play fought like little kids. chan annoying you would usually ending up in him in a head lock or a noogy, threats of a bite coming from your mouth.

what he's saying makes sense in the end, he has every reason to feel these worries. it's absolutely valid with how you began things with him.

you sit upright, leaning your chin on your hand. "do you wanna come round and talk about it?"

"yeah." he says letting out a long breath.

the only thing that chan had said when he entered your room was how much he missed you, how he was so happy to see you and how beautiful you looked. his lips were all over your face, kissing every bit of skin he could find. you enjoyed this. at first the affection seemed to turn you off, but now you found yourself melting into his touches.

when you eventually settled onto your bed, which still wasn't broken in, he would joke later, you found yourself patting your thighs. he looked slightly hesitant as he leaned forwards.

"you know you can come over whenever, right?" you chuckle, giving him a gentle smile. "we don't have to be so formal-"

almost aggressively, he pushes you onto your back, lifting your bed shirt to bunch at your chest.

"no talk, just tummy." he says face planting into your soft belly, hands finding their way around your waist for grip.

the affection surprised you, but wasn't unwelcome in the slightest. you realise you hadn't been this outwardly intimate before, this vulnerable with each other. it felt weirdly natural, much to your amuse. it wasn't as if you hadn't been physically intimate, always leaving the night with red marks along your neck and blotches on your cheeks. that one night doesn't count you justify to yourself. this was like a reset, a new way to start.

the boy doesn't speak, just breathes against you. your hands end up finding their way to his back, running underneath the cotton to rub soothing circles.

"mmm." he mumbles before pressing a kiss on your belly button.

the way that chan appreciates your body, every curve and slope, makes you feel like you're on cloud nine. he never once questioned it, always enjoying you as a whole.

"didn't you wanna talk?" you say leaning your head to the side.

"no..." he huffs.

though you know you need to talk, there's nothing more precious to you right now than this moment. chan's face lifting to press delicate kisses onto your stomach, slowly making their way to your neck and eventually your cheeks.

"such a love bug." you laugh, allowing him to have his way.

chan leans back, his hands still around you. "you actually love it, don't you?"

damn, you've been cornered. "mmmaybe."

"you totally do, you're a softy!"

"psh, look who's talking."

"oi yeah, at least i admit it."

you roll your eyes, knowing you've absolutely been caught. "okay maybe i am, but we shouldn't get distracted. talk to me."

chan lets out a long breath, his grip on you still strong. there's so much emotion on his face, you're not sure which one he's feeling. it seems he can't form the words, he can't put his finger on what he wants to say. you kind of know what direction this is going, so you decide to take the lead.

"babe," you begin, facing your body to him more. he looks back at you, the right of his lip curled downwards. he almost looks like he's about to cry.

"should i start?"

chan just nods, eyes on you.

"i know we started rocky, and i know why you feel hesitant. i would too. that night when we first... you know. it was more of a... an angry 'fuck you' kind of thing for me. and i never imagined it would actually lead to me liking you. i really thought about it, and how even though we're opposites, it kind of makes sense, doesn't it? cat and mouse? maybe i liked you from the start but didn't know it, probably why i hated you so much, couldn't figure out my damn feelings."

sharply, his head snaps to you, lips turning into a smirk. "sooo, you do like me?"

you scrunch your nose at him and frown. "is that all you got from that?"

"that's all i needed." he says as he pushes you back for more kisses, hands wriggling their way under your shirt.

"chan!" you giggle between his attacks. "we're not done!"

this time it seems right. it seems less rushed at first, more innocent in a way. it's an even playing field, both of you finally admitting how you actually felt and discussing the worries you had. chan had spoken in depth about his trust issues, and how he sometimes thought you were playing with him still. with reassurance, you held his cheeks in your hands telling him this wasn't a joke and that it was real.

your kisses sealed his worries away, with every 'but' or 'why' he murmured against your lips. it's not until you told him to shut up already did he take it seriously, seemingly waiting for your command.

though he was he one physically in control, you were calling the shots, whispering how good he was doing and how it made you wet anytime you had thought about this prior. this was just encouraging him more, you were nothing but a mess beneath him to his touches.

before you knew it, your clothes were somewhere on the floor, his following soon after.

the next few minutes is a haze, you're not entirely sure what happened to get to this point, but just from the shallow strokes of his fingers in your cunt alone, you were sent into spirals. his movements getting deeper and more calculated, enjoying the way you squealed and held onto his arms. he followed your body, assessing what you needed. the more he went on the harder he got, fingers going deeper and hitting that one spot you needed him to.

"please." you whine, feet placing themselves on his shoulders.

a grin paints across his face. it didn't take long for you to get to your peak, not with his tongue gently pressing against your clit, circling just around the edges. your head falls back, a silent scream coming from your throat the closer you get, hips rocking into his fingers and face.

your orgasm tightens across your body, fingers gripping anything they can find. it takes you a while to get back to reality, your body melting into the mattress.

"such a dick." you had breathed shortly after your high, laughing in trance like state. "shit."

he chuckles into your thigh, wiping your juices off of his cheek.

"hmm." he hums sitting upright, one finger still slowly dragging out and back into you. you wince at the over stimulation, legs trying to clamp shut.

looking down you notice his cock against his belly, red and at full attention.

he notices your glare and his hand stops. "ah we don't-"

"chan, if you don't let me fuck you right now, i'm going to scream."

with that, chan happily lets you take control, your hands on his chest as you push him back onto the bed. you can feel him sitting against your core, your wetness soaking onto him. you take in a sharp breath, still slightly over stimulated as you roll your hips.

the way he looks at you feel embarrassing almost, he's beaming at you, his hands gently pushing your hair behind your ear.

"stop." you say shyly, hiding your face in your chest.

"no, i want to see all of you."

the words are so raw and so honest, it's so much different than last time. there's no malice and no rush. no hate or resentment.

it's the way he looks at you. maybe he looked at you like this all along, you were too busy being petty to notice, maybe.

when you look down, you're met with a gentleness, a softness he seemingly reserves only for you. his eyes are filled with warmth, loving every part of you as it is.

you slowly raise the right of your hip, angling him at your entrance. he takes in a sharp breath as you push yourself down, his hands finding their way to the height of your back, pulling you in closer. one of your hands rests on his cheek, your other beside him for balance.

fuck, he feels so good. a slow hot ache pooling in the base of your stomach expands, small jolts of pleasure tingle across your body with every motion. his girth stretching you open feels incredible, and with the way you're lazily moving your hips; it has his breath laboured, faster.

"chan..." you begin, still shy in your actions, slowly angling your hips up to roll against him.

"hm?" he hums through a low grunt.

your movements halt, head dipping to rest on his forehead. you're taking this in, you need to take a moment, feelings overwhelming you.

"how did this even happen?" you breath against him, eyes closing.

chan pulls your face back, hands cradling your cheeks. when open your eyes to look at him, he just shakes his head, as if shushing you and your overwhelming thoughts.

you nod back at him, leaning in to press a slow kiss against his forehead. the smile he gives you says it all, his hands finding their way back to your hips,

the rest of the night is a blur, your hands everywhere, mouths on any piece of skin either of you could find. it's not fast, it's gentle and loving, things you never expected from chan himself. it was beautiful.

it's nearly morning, the both of you are a sweaty and complete mess. your make up is completely gone and you're not sure how you even look right now. that doesn't matter, not with chan's head resting on your chest just looking up at you, seemingly treasuring you as if you'd break from a blink.

it's not until chan speaks up, you're reminded why you argued in the first place.

"you look funny when you cum."

"shut up!"

still cat and mouse, always.

a/n: thank you for being patient for this! i tried to do slow burn but it's not my strong suit :S hopefully it's ok!!!

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