#this is how I announce that I finally graduated from university

[propertyofwicked]

WAS IT REAL? - LN

lando is at risk of losing his job if he doesn't clean up his image, and his best friend needs a way of travelling the world. they come up with a flawless plan - which could not possibly go wrong, right?

based on this request! (i went a little overboard im sorry) ✧ my inbox is open! ✧

warnings - fluff, angst, small allusion to smut at the end - fake dating to lovers hehe. also, 5k words??? who am i?? (writen BEFORE the miami gp!! i needed a few days to recover lol)

the song inspo for this got removed from spotify but it is based on "was it real" by ben rodrigues <3

masterlist the playlist

✧ tell me was it real...

...or was it just pretend? ✧

“and now i’ve had zak sit me down and essentially said ‘we don’t hire slags’”

“he said that your recent behaviour was causing concern for mclarens image - not that you were a slag, lan.”

“same thing,” he argued, ”i’m 24 for gods sake, if i want to speak to women in a nightclub that shouldn’t be any of zak’s business.”

“i think it became his business when someone filmed you, in your mclaren, having what im sure was a lovely conversation with the girl sat on your lap,” she teased back, emphasising her words slightly. he huffed at, crossing his arms over his chest as he leant back into her sofa.

lando had walked into her flat 20 minutes prior, as he had hundreds of times before, threw himself down on her sofa and launched into a long rant about the meeting he had just come from.

since he was at the woking offices, zak had taken the opportunity to discuss the several occasions in recent weeks where lando had been caught in predicaments with multiple different women. when he finally left, zak’s ultimatum ran through his brain on a loop as he drove to one of his closest friends houses.

“clean your image up, or we’ll have to reconsider the possibility of you having a seat next year.”

“it sucks, lan, but i really don’t know how i can help you here,” y/n told him, moving a stack of research notes to the table before sitting cross legged next to him so that her body faced his.

y/n l/n was a newly graduated environmental researcher, who was taking a year out to decide what kind of work she wanted to pursue. she needed to travel, see the world, and experience all elements in her field before she could make that decision - but travelling was expensive and she could not afford to be in anymore debt after university.

“i have an idea,” lando announced, the realisation of what he was about to propose never really settling.

“that’s never good,” she joked.

“no, no hear me out -” he started, “i need to look like a man in a stable relationship, you need to see the world.”

“yeah? so?” she questioned, confused as to where he was going with this.

“look, it’s ok if you say no. i’m just saying - you could pretend to be my girlfriend and use the opportunity to travel the world and research your little bugs.”

“i don’t know, that seems a bit…deceitful?” y/n replied, yet the idea mulled in her brain more than she wished.

“just a few public appearances. you come with me to my races and use it as a research opportunity. maybe stay in monaco with me for a bit? let people film us being domestic and that?” lando replied, stuttering as he tried to think of more reasons - truly, he had started talking before he’d really thought it through.

“it’s tempting,” she replied slowly, “and for the last time lando, i do not study bugs, i study the environments they live in.”

“all expenses paid, travelling the world, looking at trees across the world,” he added teasingly, “- and all you have to do is hold my hand in public,” he finished, trying to summarise the arrangement.

“ok.”

“ok?”

“yeah, what’s the worst that can happen?”

✧ tell me all the places that you wanna see...

....i can take you all the places that you've never been ✧

the two of them fell easily into a natural act, almost gaining a sixth sense for cameras and fans and reaching for each other. it started small - a hand on her back, standing close to each other, being seen arriving and leaving together. but it hadn’t been enough, many pointing out that y/n had been at races and stayed with him in monaco multiple times, and concluding the two were still, just friends.

so they upped the ante. lando began holding her hand when they walked anywhere together, kissing her forehead lightly as they both pretended to be clueless to the snapping of cameras. at the last race, y/n had spotted a reporter and made a quick decision to tug at lando’s fireproof, pulling him down and pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“that’s new,” he had told her, laughing lightly, but keeping his hands firmly on her waist.

“camera,” she told him, smiling up at him as he nodded.

and lando kept up his end of the deal, the two of them using the week of the australian grand prix to visit the great barrier reef.

their plan was working - the two were elated that people were finally putting the pieces together and believing the two really were together. even zak began to notice the positive effect y/n had on not only his image, but lando’s entire life.

“say y/n,” zak started as he walked up to the woman, “you work in environmental protection, don’t you?”

“i guess you could say that,” she responded, too tired to correct him, and slightly startled that he’d approached her as she sat minding her own business in the garage before the race began.

“we’re doing some work with the barrier reef group and oscar in a few days - would you consider being a sort of environmental advisor? just tell oscar a few things that he could talk about for the project?” he asked her assertively, smiling as her eyes widened at the request.

“i’d love to! but im supposed to be flying back tomorrow. let me ask lando later and ill get back to you?” she replied.

“sure,” he replied, smiling at her again before returning to his job. she was filled with excitement, it wasn’t often that she got to talk about her degree, and being able to contribute to a project of this scale was an amazing opportunity.

and her excitement only continued throughout the race, a feeling she always got watching lando compete, but overwhelmed when he cross the line 3rd. y/n ran round to join the rest of the mclaren team at the pit lane, watching as the podium cars pulled in and the drivers hopping out to celebrate with their teams.

lando climbed out, removing his helmet quickly before turning, scanning the crowd for y/n, and half sprinting when he spotted her. later, he would celebrate with his team, but for now he ran to her, pulling her in closely as he pressed his lips hastily to hers, pulled in closer by her hands cupping his jaw. when they pulled away, he kept her close to his embrace.

“im so proud of you,” she told him, smiling as he bent down to kiss her again, before rushing off to join his team.

y/n tried so hard to push away the feeling rising in her stomach - she didn’t like him like that, it was just the excitement of watching her friend succeed. so she ignored it, the same way she pushed away the feeling she got every time he calls her angel, even when they were alone.

im only here so that he keeps his job she reminded herself.

lando was distracted - he got podium, he was excited, his team were celebrating. yet he couldn’t help but let his thoughts linger to that feeling that shot through his veins when he’d kissed her. the same feeling he got every night, when she wrapped an arm tightly around his chest as they fell asleep.

she’s only here for research opportunities he told himself.

“im so proud of you,” y/n told him later that day as they left the track. wrapping her arms around his neck, she pulled him in to a tight hug, his arms falling naturally to hold her waist close to him. lando risked everything in that moment, pulling slightly back to look at her, before pressing a kiss to her lips.

“camera,” he told her, feeling her hesitation. her smile fell slightly before she leaned up to kiss him again. of course - the cameras, that’s why he kissed me she thought to herself, saddened slightly at the realisation.

there was no camera. they were totally alone.

✧ colours of the sky in your eyes

...fragments of the truth in your lies ✧

lando felt alone, his apartment felt so empty without her. he was happy she had the opportunity to stay in australia and do what she loves, but he couldn’t help but dwell on the flames igniting inside of him when he saw the videos of her and oscar together. it wasn’t jealousy, he told himself, he just missed her. after spending the last few months in close proximity, it made sense that he missed smelling her perfume around, or hearing the way her voice travelled through his brain.

y/n had a calming effect on him, and right now, lando was anything but calm.

which is why he found himself going back to his old ways, in a club, surrounded by women he wouldn’t remember the next day. he was too gone to remember that people with cameras tend to follow him around, capturing his every move in 4k - and he was far too gone to realise that publicly he was in a relationship, a relationship that should not include him leaving a club with a blonde.

and of course, y/n had seen the images blasted over twitter, headlines titled “cheating scandal?” consuming her entire feed. it was hard to remind herself that this thing between her and lando was not real, it was all pretend. and no matter how many times she told herself that fact, y/n couldn’t help but feel jealousy consume her entire existence.

the flat had never felt so awkward than the week before their flight to japan for the next race. she had returned a few days after the incident, lando greeting her at the door with a tight hug and a kiss to her forehead, but something was off.

“you have fun?” he asked her offhandedly as they moved to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water for himself.

“i did,” she said with a smile, though her tone held malice, “did you?”

lando’s hands stopped opening the cap of the bottle as he breathed in sharply.

“the fuck does that mean?” he replied, his tone harsh in defence.

“i was just asking if you had a good time, lando,” y/n answered, “she looked pretty, your type.”

“nothing happened, y/n,” lando told her, his voice sounding almost guilty.

“it’s ok if something did happen - we aren’t actually together,” she assured him, even though she could feel the jealousy bubbling up inside her again, “can you just be more cautious next time? im not sure i enjoy being told i deserved to be cheated on every time i open twitter.”

“im sorry, y/n, i am. i dont know what i was thinking,” he apologised, his eyes still softening with his guilt.

“clearly not a lot,” she tutted, before moving to take her bags to her room.

the rest of the week followed a similar vibe - the two of them barely spoke if they didn’t have to, making a few affectionate public appearances to show the world that their relationship was as strong as ever… oh the irony y/n thought every time she saw something dismissing earlier lando’s actions. however, by the time they flew out to japan, the friendship between the two seemed to have recovered - lando had almost sighed in relief when he saw her smile at him again.

“where you off to today?” lando asked her, pacing around the hotel room as he packed his bag for the day.

“the marina,” she replied, smiling as she pulled her coat on, “looking at the fish.”

“gross.”

“what time is qualis?” y/n asked him, ignoring his statement.

“uhh…3 i think - but you should try and get there by 2?” he told her, glancing down at his phone to see the current time. lando strode over to her, cupping her face lightly as he pressed a quick kiss to her head - this was becoming second nature to him, and she wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

“perfect!” she replied, trying to stop the nervous blush rising her face, ignoring the way her stomach flipped, “ill be there,” she added before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and leaving the room. the moment the door closed, lando’s hand raised to touch where she had kissed him, smiling fondly at the thought.

he was utterly and truly fucked. how had he let himself fall for her? how could he continue to pretend to love her, when he really did?

y/n spent the rest of the morning in a similar state of panic, mentally shutting down at the prospect of loving lando and knowing he’d never feel the same. she hadn’t even intended to leave him today, but found herself quickly googling anything for her to do the moment she woke up with his arm wrapped tightly around her stomach and his head resting on her back. y/n needed space, she knew she couldn’t keep up their little act when her heart was slowly shattering every time he kissed her for the cameras.

so caught up in her own thoughts, she didn’t realise the time until it hit 2pm and she was stuck at the marina, desperately trying to find a taxi to get her to the track. and when she finally made it, y/n wish she hadn’t bothered.

lando was pacing angrily, talking under his breath as he checked his phone constantly - he only had 5 minutes before he needed to go down to the garage and get ready for qualifiers. the door slid open, and y/n walked through - ready to spurt out her apologies - but she stopped suddenly, sensing the anger looming in his room.

“where were you?” lando asked her, trying to keep himself calm, though the race nerves mixed with his temperament made that quite difficult.

“im sorry lan, i lost trac-”

“lost track of time? found something more interesting to do? save it, i don’t wanna hear your excuses,” he argued back, interrupting her with his ever loudening tone.

“you’d know all about ‘finding something more interesting’, wouldn’t you,” y/n replied, her own voice raising to meet his. if there’s one thing y/n will do, it’s stand up for herself, even when all she wanted to do was kiss him. dont kiss him, hit him she told herself.

“fuck you,” he spat, shoving past her to leave the room.

“at least im here!” she shouted back down the hallway, desperate for the last word

y/n stayed in the room for qualifiers, trying to stop the tears running down her face before lando returned. she hoped his anger was only heightened by his nerves, praying that after securing P3 he would return as his normal self, laughing and joking with her. in a strange way, she wanted cameras on them, she wanted him to be affectionate with her - she needed him to comfort her.

the woman walked nervously down to the garage, hoping to catch him quickly before he had to run off for media duties. maybe now he had secured a solid start position for tomorrows race he would be more willing to have a mature, sensible conversation with her.

or not.

lando spotted her immediately, pulling her arm quickly to lead her round to a secluded area outside the garage. he wasn’t angry at her, he was angry at himself for letting it get this far. he was so irritated, he couldn’t even spare a moment to see the fear in her eyes as he took in a deep breath.

he wasn’t angry at her, but he didn’t know how else to express his overwhelming emotions.

“what do you want? make it quick, ive got media to do,” he snapped, letting go of her arm as they stopped walking. she rubbed at it, her skin still burning from his tight grip.

“i just wanted to see you lan, congratulate you,” she replied softly, biting back tears once more.

“oh now you want to be here to support me?” he breathed out, crossing his arms over his chest.

“what does that mean?”

“i let you come with me to help with your career, and yet you can’t even turn up to support mine. i knew you were selfish but thi-”

“selfish?” she argued, trying to keep her voice low, “me? selfish? i haven’t got enough fingers to count the amount of times you’ve missed my important things because you were busy with your career. and have i complained once?”

“well no but-”

“but nothing, lando. i can’t even pretend to love this version of you,” she ranted, her anger being overcome with sadness, “you know what? fix your own reputation - or don’t. i don’t care what or who you do anymore,” she finished, turning on her heel and storming away from him.

he wanted to follow her, he wanted to hold her close as he apologised. lando knew he was being selfish, he knew it wasn’t fair to string her along under the pretence of saving his career. he knew he could no longer pretend, not with her and not with the public. lando needed her in every sense of the word. but duty calls, so he settles on dealing with this later, sitting her down and telling her the truth, even if it had the potential to destroy their friendship - he figured he couldn’t make it any worse.

but y/n isn’t at the track when he finishes up for the day, and she’s not at the hotel when he returns - and neither are her belongings. lando checked his phone repeatedly, messaging her desperately.

he fell to the bed, head in his hands as he tried to regulate his breathing.

she was gone, and it was all his fault.

✧ i know that you're perfect for me

…tell me that you're sorry

…won't you please just take my heart again ✧

it took a few weeks for lando to finally stop messaging her, though y/n noticed an increase in visits from max, their mutual friend, under the guise of “just checking in” on his childhood friend. y/ wasn’t stupid, she knew who was behind max’s sudden interest in her wellbeing. but max was stupid either, he knew why the two of them had taken this fall out so hard.

“you did what?” max shouted in shock.

“i asked her to pretend to be girlfriend so i could keep my job,” lando sighed, hiding his face in his hands.

“you’re stupid.”

“i know.”

“in what world was that ever going to end well?”

“the world where i didn’t realise i actually do fancy her?” lando replied quietly, questioning his own admission.

“im so stupid,” max replied.

“how are you the stupid one here?”

“stupid for believing the two of you had finally worked out what has been right in front of you since we were 13.”

lando was desperate. he needed to talk to her, he needed to tell her how he felt - but for now, he settled with knowing she was ok.

“she’s alive and healthy - and she had pizza for lunch,” max told him over the phone, growing tired of this weekly routine the two of them had started.

“but she’s doing ok, right?”

“she’s good, lan,” he reassured, neglecting to tell him the part where she cried on him about losing her best friend over a trivial, child-like crush.

“but…?” lando asked, sensing there was more.

“but - she still doesn’t want to talk to you.”

“i could’ve guessed that one, thanks mate.”

“hey dont get mean with me - im just doing what you asked.”

“i know, sorry.”

“don’t apologise to me, find a way to fix this you muppet.”

y/n was not ok, spending most of her nights alone, scrolling through social media seeing the rumours about her and lando’s supposed split - “she’s wasn’t at the race” “i saw her leaving suzuka crying” “he looks so sad in interviews”. why do they care so much? but they aren’t wrong, she thought.

she began looking for a job, but nothing seemed as exciting as the work she’d done with mclarens environmental programme - which seemed to no longer be an option. unbeknownst to her, mclaren also loved the work she had done with them - her presence was greatly missed in the garage by many, especially those on the receiving end of lando’s current outbursts.

y/n’s phone lit up the entire room, the notification cutting through the silence of her room, breaking her away from her own thoughts.

-

y/n was still convinced this was a trick, luring her to miami under the pretence of work so that oscar could push her head first into a trap. the thought stuck with her throughout her plane journey, as she checked in to her hotel, even up to the moment she knocked on oscar’s door to discuss the project. she was waiting for lando to appear, push her into a locked room and force her to talk to him.

“…’but if i talk to him, ill end up telling him why i ran, and how i feel about him, then he’ll reject me, laugh in my face and im back to feeling sorry for myself,” she told oscar, having finished giving him the run down for their project, and allowing the conversation to move to the elephant in the room - what had happened between her and lando.

“im sure that’s not true,” he replied, feeling sad for the girl in front of him, though he already knew most of the story from hearing lando’s self-destructive rants.

she opened her mouth to responded, but was stopped by a sharp knock at the door.

“oscar? are you ready to go?” a familiar voice called from the other side, sending y/n’s blood cold, her eyes widening in panic.

“what the fuck, oscar?” she whispered shouted, feeling betrayed.

“i didn’t know he was coming y/n, i swear, i’d never do that to you,” oscar reassured her truthfully, although slightly beaming as a plan formulated in his head, “stay there, ill tell him to meet me downstairs.”

oscar stood, moving to open the door slightly.

“hey mate - just got some things to sort out, ill meet you downstairs in 15?”

“sure,” lando nodded, turning to leave, but not before his eyes drifted into the room, spotting the same pair of flowery vans that had spent months sitting in his hallway. y/n’s vans.

lando walked down to the lobby, taking a seat as he waited for oscar, his mind consumed with the fact that y/n was here, in miami, in his hotel. why was she here? why hadn’t she told him? was she still avoiding him?

“he-”

“where is she?” lando interrupted the australian the moment he approached.

“’hi oscar, are you ready to go?’ would’ve been my response but ok,” oscar replied.

“where is she, oscar?” lando continued, determined.

“she doesn’t want to see you.”

“i know,” he replied bluntly, “why is she here?”

“y/n was invited to join mclaren as an advisor on a new climate video,” oscar gave in, replying as professionally as he could - he wasn’t here to discuss their ‘breakup’.

that’s a lie, he’s pretty sure zak asked him to do another environmental video purely to suggest that he contacted y/n to be an advisor. and he’s absolutely certain that zak, equally as fed up with lando’s attitude, was looking for a reason to bring the two back together.

“who invited her? where is she staying?” lando quizzed him as they walked towards the car, doubting he’d even get an answer.

“zak invited her, he appreciated the work she did for us in australia,” oscar replied, ignoring his second question. lando hummed in response, if oscar wouldn’t tell him, he would find out for himself.

it was only a press day, so lando split from his teammate and began his hunt for zak brown. it wasn’t hard, the man was wearing bright orange and had a laugh that could be heard for miles.

“hey zak,” he started.

“hey lando, what can i do for you?” zak asked, glancing at his at a text on his phone quickly before giving lando his full attention.

“how are you?” lando asked hastily, beginning his attempt to bombard his boss with questions till he slipped up.

“im good.”

“what are you doing today?”

“just going over some things with the team.”

“what do you think the weather will be like on sunday?”

“war-”

“where’s she staying?”

“the marriot i-” zak replied, pretending to stutter as he answered, feigning shock at accidentally revealing the hotel.

“thanks zak, love you,” lando called out as he jogged out. zak smirked to himself, replying to oscar’s message.

z → mission complete.

o → you made sure it looked like an accident, right?

z → jesus oscar i just told him the hotel name i didn’t kill him

of course lando couldn’t leave the track immediately, he had a job to do first. but the moment he became free for the evening, he was off, arriving at the hotel in record time. there were many cons to being a recognisable face, but a pro of being so famous was a hotel receptionist who barely batted an eyelid as lando demanded to know the room number of y/n l/n.

his knuckles rapped on the door quickly, his heartrate beating rapidly as he did. this could go so many ways, and most of them were not good. the door swung open, his eyes coming to look at the woman in front of him - she looked good, but she looked different, like something was missing.

“lando? what are yo- OSCAR!” she called out, turning to look back into the room, the door widening as she did revealing his teammate sat at the desk, “did you do this?”

“not me,” he replied, holding his hands up in defence. her head spun back around to look at lando, she was taking him in. he had a plaster on his nose, the curls were alive and well, and his everlasting tan ran the expanse of his skin. she didn’t want to admire him, but damn, miami was treating him well.

“go away i dont want to see you,” she announced suddenly, trying to shut the door but finding his foot blocking it.

“i know you don’t, but i need you to just listen to me, please. and then you can shut the door and never have to deal with me again,” he told her, pleading.

“oscar’s here.”

“actually, i should probably get going,” oscar announced moving to grab his stuff to leave. y/ns head shot back around, her eyes shooting daggers at him as if to say ‘dont you dare leave me alone with him right now’ to which he merely shrugged and walked out.

lando closed the door behind him, moving the two of them back into the room - y/n sat down awkwardly on the edge of the bed as he remained stood in front of her.

“what do you need to tell me?” she asked him impatiently.

“y/n, these last few weeks have been hell for me. i know i hurt you, i said some horrible stuff that you really didn’t deserve and i will do anything for you to forgive me and move past this,” he said, pausing before adding, “i don’t know about yo-”

“oh, so it wasn’t you sending max to “check in on me” every week?” she interrupted, her eyebrows quirking with her accusation.

“you worked that one out then?” lando replied, laughing slightly, relief washing over him that she didn’t seem angry at him.

“it was so obvious! since when has max ever felt the need to check im doing ok ever? let alone every week?”

“i sent him because i care about you y/n. you weren’t responding to my messages, dodging my calls,” he told her, watching her smile slightly, a blush rising her face.

“so why are you here now?”

“look, this whole ‘thing’,” he started, waving his arms to indicate he meant whatever the two of them were doing, “it started as something purely to benefit the both of our careers. but i think somewhere down the line, it turned into something more. something that should’ve happened years ago,” he told her, his heart ready to beat its way out of his chest and jump out the window.

the two sat in silence for a moment, y/n mulled over his words in her head. this is what she wanted, wasn’t it? she wanted him to love her the way she loved him. so, why did she feel so apprehensive about letting him back in?

“i know you felt it too, y/n,” lando said again, not letting her thoughts distract her too far.

“feel,” she said bluntly.

“huh?”

“you said felt. i still feel that way about you lan.”

“then why won’t you let me in?”

“you said some really nasty stuff to me, lan. really horrible stuff that had me reconsidering my entire life. you’re lucky i even let you stay. why couldn’t you just be honest with me - instead of pushing me away?”

“i didn’t know how to,” he admitted, stepping closer to her, “if i had a time machine, i would take back everything i said. id go back and slap some fucking sense into myself.”

lando now stood directly in front of her, his thighs brushing her knees lightly as his hand moved to her face, wiping away a tear she didn’t even know what trailing down her cheek. his fingers tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear before settling on cupping her jaw lightly.

“can you forgive me?” he asked her softly, thumb stroking at her cheek.

“it’s not all your fault, lan. i could’ve said something too,” she told him.

“please just say you forgive me so i can kiss you, you idiot,” he laughed out.

“forgiven,” y/n said quickly, her head tilting so that their lips met. it was familiar, the feeling his lips on hers, but this time there was a sense of urgency. a sense of love that was absent anytime they had kissed before. his tongue swiped at her bottom lip, desperate for more which she granted happily, as her hands moved to rest in his hair, tugging at the curls lightly.

“fuck, y/n. ‘missed you so much,” he moaned out, the grip on his hair sending his mind blank.

“missed you too,” she replied as he moved to kiss down her neck softly, “even if you were a bit of a dick.”

“let me make it up to you?” lando teased, nipping at the skin of her neck whilst his fingers toyed with the hem of her top.

“there’s a lot to make up for.”

“ive got time,” he replied, pulling the fabric away from her body fully. her hands reached out, grabbing at his mclaren polo to remove it as well, dropping it next to herself on the bed.

lando laid her back on the bed, hovering over her as he continued kissing down the flesh of her torso.

“y/n i forgot m-” oscar started, barging back into the room, “oh my god, ive been gone what…? 3 minutes? how have you already taken your clothes off?” he exclaimed with a laugh.

“fuck off!” y/n and lando called out in unison, lando reaching for his top and launching it in oscar’s direction.

“ok ok, im going,” he replied, raising his hands again in defence, “stay safe kids,” he added before leaving the room, his forgotten phone now in tow.

“kids?” lando muttered, “im older than him?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

[thesmashwaffle]

At long last...

May or may not be inspired by recent news... ;)

#arven #nemona #art #artists on tumblr #paldeashipping #paldea #pokemon #graduation #this is how I announce that I finally graduated from university #kiss

[cupid-styles]

daisy (english profrry x TA!yn)

part one of english profrry is here!!!!!

word count: 6.3k

BIG content warnings: massive, glaring warning for an inappropriate relationship. y/n is a graduate student in this and of legal consenting age, but there's an age gap of four years between her and harry. she is his TA, which means there's a big power imbalance between them. bc this is fic we'll pretend it's romantic and all very consensual but if this is triggering to you in any way, DO NOT READ IT. it's not worth hurting your mental health. also, if anything remotely like this happens in your personal life, IT IS NOT OKAY.

other CWs: small smut scene at the end (m masturbation with descriptions of m receiving oral, slight cum play), y/n alludes to having seasonal depression but it's never outwardly said (just be aware since the descriptions of it could be triggering to some!), a bit of angst but nothing crazy

with all that out of the way, if you still choose to read, I hope you enjoy :) love you all lots!!

masterlist | talk to me

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. . .

Professor Styles is a dick. 

That’s what the entire English department said when it was announced that Y/N would be his newest teaching assistant for the spring semester.

They all sneered at her, throwing what they pretended to be caring warnings her way, claiming that he was impossible to work with and he didn’t even actually need a TA, he just liked picking students to embarrass. With their noses upturned at Y/N but not actually offering any kind of advice, she left the small English building shortly after the Dean unveiled the new schedule for TAs, anxiety bubbling in her stomach and thick, salty tears in her waterline. 

She knows Professor Styles doesn’t have the greatest reputation on campus. She actually actively avoided taking any classes with him throughout the duration of her bachelor’s degree, and even as she chose to stay on to enter her first year of graduate school, she picked any other available professors over him.

He was known for his less-than-personable demeanor and the way he picked apart students’ essays, leaving them questioning their entire life path. Y/N has never felt much insecurity about her career — she’s always wanted to go into English, maybe opting for a small but impactful job in publishing or editing — but having a professional ruin her writing sounded… well, awful. 

In reality, Y/N didn’t have much of a choice when it came to her teaching assistant preferences. She needed a job that wouldn’t take up too much of her time. Her first semester of grad school was difficult and stressful. All of her friends graduated and went on to cool jobs all over the country, while Y/N just stayed in the same apartment. She was homesick for her family and walked through a campus every day that reminded her of a better version of herself — one who had a flourishing social life and excellent grades. Just a few months of working on her masters degree had worn her down. 

Despite the slight dip in her grades from university to graduate school (an expected change, her advisor had explained), she was still recommended as a TA for the English department in the spring. She’d really been gunning after Professor Rooney, a kind, middle-aged woman who had spent years working glamorous jobs in the publishing world. She had connections everywhere and was incredibly sweet, and Y/N knew she would feel comfortable working in her sections for the semester. All winter break, she imagined how wonderful it could be; that maybe it was the huge win she needed after such a shitty fall. 

But Professor Rooney didn’t choose her. Professor Styles did.

Even with a promise of a reasonable stipend contingent on the completion of her TA position, Y/N’s world felt like it came crashing down just a little bit — but she knew better than to complain or blubber on about not getting her way. Instead, she chose to just get through it.

In the final days of winter break, Professor Styles emailed her to meet in his office the day before classes began. He didn’t ask if she was back on campus or if she had a good break. Y/N wanted to resent that, but chose to swallow it down. 

When she got to his small office in the department, she gently knocked on the open door, signaling her arrival. He peered up from whatever book he was hunched over on his deck, straightened his posture, and checked his watch. 

“You’re late.” he said flatly, shutting the paperback with a force she didn’t even know was possible. With furrowed brows, she glanced at the lockscreen on the phone she held. 

“You said 10:30, right? It’s 10:30 now.”

“On time is late,” he muttered, folding his hands on his desk, “Early is on time.”

She swallowed, her lips parting like a guppy. He rolled his eyes and motioned to the seat on the other side of her desk. Quickly, she took it, placing her tote bag at her feet and making a mental reminder to arrive at his classes five minutes early from this point on.

“Right, so you’re my TA, then?”

She nodded, “Yes, for the spring semester.”

He hummed, though she couldn’t tell if it was a sound of approval or discontent. He moved his computer mouse over the surface of the university provided mouse pad, making his computer buzz to life. With an awkward silence settling between them, the sound of the mouse clicking was the only thing that filled the dim office. 

“You just graduated from the English department last spring,” he said, eyes scanning over what she now assumed was her student file, “3.8 GPA. That’s fine.”

She blinked at that, resisting the urge to balk at him. 3.8 was .2 away from a perfect GPA. It was more than fine.

“You didn’t take any classes with me during your time as an undergrad.”

“Um, your sections were always full—”

“I don’t really care what your reasoning is,” he cut her off, continuing to scroll down the screen. A lump formed in her throat but she tried to swallow it down. Nothing sounded more embarrassing than crying in front of Professor Styles. “And now you’re getting your masters in English with a concentration in Feminist Literature. That’s an unusual one. Why?”

She’s surprised he’s bothered to ask her a question, so it takes her a moment to form a cohesive answer on her tongue. She’s flailing a bit and she knows he can tell, based on the unamused expression on his face. 

“I’ve read a lot of literature where there’s a female main character and she’s just used to state a point or some sort of backwards lesson that was considered modernized for the time,” Y/N speaks softly, picking at her nails in her lap, “I’m interested in studying that more.”

“What kind of literature?” Professor Styles instantly fires back. 

“Well, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on The Scarlet Letter, but I’ve also been thinking about basing my graduate capstone on Ophelia from Hamlet.”

He makes that annoying humming noise again, and she’s still unsure if he’s pleased or thinks she’s an idiot. She wasn’t unused to the latter — a lot of snobs in the English department thought it was stupid of her to care for critiquing older pieces of writing from an argumentative, feminist perspective, even if they acted like The Odyssey was an “absolute must-read” for everyone.

(It’s not. Y/N thinks The Odyssey is dumb and boring, but she’ll never say that, especially not to Professor Styles.)

“Right, well,” he lifts a white ceramic coffee cup to his mouth and swallows briefly. She glances down to see he’s drinking hot black coffee, and her lips furl into a quick, involuntary wince. “You’ll be with me three days a week. You are to attend the daily lectures — Mondays and Wednesdays are the shorter section and Friday is the long, three-hour one. Helping out with grading and holding office hours will be your primary tasks. If you fall ill or need to take a day off, I need at least 24 hours notice. If I receive any complaints from students, you’re out. Otherwise, it should be a fine semester. Any questions?”

She shakes her head, hoping he’ll show some inkling of delight at her quick ability to understand and process. Instead, his lips remain in a flat line and he nods, taking another sip of his coffee. 

“You can go now. See you tomorrow.”

She scrambles to leave his office as quickly as possible.

. . .

Professor Styles barely speaks to Y/N for the first few weeks. 

It’s unsettling in a way, especially because she doesn’t know if she’s doing a good job. She thrives off of reassurance, but every time she hands him a neat stack of newly graded papers or drafts, he simply waves her off with an, “alright, thanks.”

If she’s being honest, it makes her want to try even harder, though she’s not entirely sure why. She has the urge to claw her way to the very top of Professor Styles’ repertoire of students and assistants — a need for perfectionism that can only be quelled by the person least likely to give it to her. 

And it’s driving her absolutely insane.

She wants to ask, straight out, “am I doing an alright job? Do you need anything more from me?”, but she’s positive that will only make her glow with insecurity. He’d probably laugh in her face and call her a baby for needing his acceptance.

It eats her alive as she sits at the front of the lecture hall, watching his female students stare at him with hearts in their eyes as he discusses the politics of Ursula Le Guin. It bugs her only more than he's one of the most attractive people she's ever seen, always impeccably dressed with long, ring-clad fingers.

Grumbling, she realizes that she probably looks just as pathetic, so she quickly straightens her posture and runs her fingertips over the mousepad of her laptop so it glows back to life. She’s supposed to be going over the grades of the students’ first essays — her and Professor Styles were meeting after class to discuss them in the event that anyone needed additional assistance for the upcoming paper.

She busies herself with that until he ends class, creating a list of a few names that would potentially need to be met with one-on-one. He doesn’t say anything as he gathers his own materials from the lecture, and she follows him out of the hall and to his office just as silently, carrying her laptop in one hand and her tote bag on her shoulder. 

Professor Styles’ office is always cold and dark, never failing to send a shiver down her spine when he unlocks the door. Today, her shoulders shudder involuntarily and she pushes her sweater sleeves down to cover her hands. With a rumple in his eyebrows, he sits down. 

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

Y/N snaps her head up in surprise. She doesn’t mean to look shocked, so she quickly revises her facial features in an attempt to look collected. 

“Oh, it’s just cold,” she says, waving him off nonchalantly, “I’m fine.”

“Yeah. I think this winter has been especially brutal.” 

His reply especially dazes her — she’s unsure if that’s an attempt at making small talk, something Professor Styles has never done with her before, but she instantly nods her head, as if she’s speaking with a toddler who’s expressing their emotions for the first time. 

“Yeah, I think so,” she says softly, “The snow is awful to walk through.”

“Do you live far from campus?”

She shakes her head and sets her laptop and planner on her side of the desk, across from Professor Styles and his things. 

“No, just a 10 minute walk or so, but I don’t have a car.”

He hums at that — that stupid, unassuming hum that contributes absolutely nothing to the conversation. She wonders if she’s in her head about it, but she feels his eyes linger just a beat longer on her face before tearing them away. He licks over his teeth as he taps on his laptop to wake it back up. 

“Right, then. Did you go over their grades?”

As she pulls her things out from her bag, she tries to ignore the small pit of disappointment in her tummy from Professor Styles shifting their conversation back over to class. 

. . .

That weekend, Y/N thinks she’s hallucinating as she meanders up and down the aisles at Target. 

She’s not really looking for anything in particular. Sometimes she just comes here for something to do. Her bank account isn't exactly flowing in a way that permits her to buy all the cute home decor she gazes at, which is why her basket currently consists of the following: pads, a new pack of her favorite gel pens, cookie dough, and a lip balm that she’ll probably put back before she checks out. 

It’s another harsh, cold day out, the freezing temperatures refusing to let up as the days of the month flit by. This is Y/N’s least favorite time of year — when winter sticks around despite the holidays being long gone. All that’s left between now and spring is pesky snow and fake Hallmark holidays, and she yearns for the days where she can walk to campus and admire the tulips peeking out from the damp soil. By then, she’ll be closer to returning to her hometown for the summer, where she’ll likely get a job for a few months working in the local library or bookstore.

It’ll be good — she’ll get to see her friends and spend time with family and save up some money, and maybe the hopefulness of life warming up in a few months will be enough to get her through this semester.

And as she’s daydreaming of brighter days, that’s when it happens — when she thinks she must be fully hallucinating, because as she strolls down one aisle in particular, Professor Styles is standing there, his bottom lip pinched between his fingers as he stares at space heaters. 

She’s never seen him off campus. Sometimes that happens since a lot of professors live close by, so it’s not unheard of to pass by an advisor or faculty member at the supermarket or through the park. But seeing Professor Styles here feels… illegal, somehow, especially given his casual, dressed down attire. He’s wearing what looks to be a cozy sweatshirt and a pair of athletic shorts, despite the temperature nearing the 20s today. (Y/N is bundled up in three sweaters, a jacket, a scarf, gloves, and leggings beneath her jeans.) White socks go just above his ankles, and the running shoes on his feet make her wonder if he’s insane enough to actually be working out in this weather. 

She must be analyzing his form for a beat too long — maybe it’s the shock from it that still hasn’t worn off — because he feels her gaze, eyes veering to his peripheral, realizing that his teaching assistant is standing there as if she’s waiting for permission to enter the aisle. 

“Hey,” she blurts out when she realizes she’s been caught. 

Confused by her frank, laidback greeting, he lifts his head to face her. “Hey.” he echoes awkwardly.

“Um, sorry.”

He quirks an eyebrow and Y/N’s body heats with embarrassment. “Sorry?”

“Sorry… I-I should’ve just walked away when I saw you,” Y/N quickly attempts to revise, but she realizes it’s just making her sound stupider, “I was just surprised to see you here.”

“In a public store?”

“Right,” she nods curtly, turning on her heel, “Have a good rest of your weekend—”

“Wait, did you need something down here?” he rushes out, almost as if he’s fearful she’ll leave. She pushes the thought down but parts her lips nervously, eyes scanning over the contents on the shelves. She doesn’t need anything, she was just putting off having to brave the cold weather on her walk home.

“Yes,” she says slowly because, once again, she’s suddenly stupefied and enamored by the prospect of small talk with Professor Styles, “I needed… lighters. For my candles.”

He nods, a quiet “ah,” sounding from his lips, and they stand there like they’re doing some sort of parallel play; Y/N pretending to look at the long, safety lighters while Professor Styles continues to look at space heaters. She wonders if he for some reason is pretending, too, but then he’ll squat down to look at the features on one box, making a tsk-ing noise with his mouth, and straighten back up to analyze a different model.

When he finally decides on an option that’s best fit, he grabs the box and places it in his cart. Quickly, Y/N plucks a random display of lighters and throws them in her basket.

“Hope you found a good one,” she mutters out dumbly, feeling the need to interject one last sentence into their silence. He glances down at his cart, then at her basket, and then, finally, at her. 

“It’s for the office,” he says. “You said it was cold.”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“This should help with that.”

“Sure, yeah. I have one at home, it helps a lot with the draftiness.”

“That’s what I’m hoping for.”

“Maybe you can get an extra lamp in there, too. Spruce it up a bit.”

A wrinkle forms between his brows, “What do you mean?”

Y/N wishes the ground would swallow her up whole.

“Nothing! I just meant— like, sometimes it’s a bit cold, and with the weather, it can get dark, too. The winter’s tough, don’t you think? That’s all I meant, I’m sorry—”

“No, you’re right,” he says with a decisive nod. “You’re the only other person that really spends time there besides students. Do you want to help pick one out?”

“Sure, okay.”

They walk in silence to the lighting display, which is filled with a myriad of different options. Professor Styles looks semi-overwhelmed by it all and Y/N has to bite her lip so she doesn’t smile too widely at his confused expression. She points to a simple, inexpensive standing lamp.

“I think something like this would be good, in the corner or something. Just for some extra brightness.”

“Is that the one you like?”

Y/N doesn’t have strong lamp preferences, especially when it comes to a space that she’s not even living in, but for some reason, it seems important that she says yes. So she nods her head, flashing him a small smile. He returns it, and she realizes that’s the first time he’s ever smiled at her. 

“Okay. I’ll have this stuff set up for when you come in on Monday.”

She swallows, feeling the mountain of adoration in her stomach grow. She shoves it down. 

“Thank you, that’s really kind of you,” she says.

“Sure. I’ll see you then. Have a good rest of your weekend.”

She hides in the lamp aisle for another 15 minutes, until she’s positive he’s left the store. 

. . .

Professor Styles and Y/N are working in their typical silence when he says something that makes her jaw nearly drop to the floor.

She thought that after their short but personable interaction at the store, things would change a bit. Maybe he would feel more comfortable talking to her outside of monotone grunts or the occasional “are they failing my class?”, but things remained the same. When she came in that Monday, the space heater and lamp were both on and running as he promised, but it was as if nothing happened. 

It irks Y/N to no end.

She assumes that he sincerely doesn’t care for her, which she supposes is fine considering kindness or approval aren’t part of the job description. That’s why she’s shocked when he says it a few weeks after the weekend they saw one another in public. 

“I think you should ask to change your advisor to me.”

Y/N chokes on her spit, hurriedly coughing into her hand so she doesn’t spray saliva all over his desk. Once she recovers, he’s staring at her expectedly, as if what he said was completely and utterly sane. 

“Sorry?” she asks, “Why would I do that?”

She doesn’t mean it to sound rude, but it’s a genuine question. Typically, there’s some type of rapport between a grad student and their advisor, and she and Professor Styles have absolutely none of that. 

Professor Styles clears his throat and folds his hands on his desk. “Because I got my masters degree in the same thing, so I spent four years studying exactly what you’re studying. I think you’ve been doing very well as my TA and I would like to advise you.”

“Why would you ask me why I was studying that, then?” she blurts out, confusion apparent on her face. “The first day we met, you told me it was unusual.”

“It is.”

“But you studied it.”

“I did.”

“So why would you say that?”

Professor Styles sighs as if this is the most boring and obvious conversation he’s had all day. 

“I wanted to hear you defend it. See why you’re interested and make sure it’s not all bullshit.”

Y/N shakes her head, “So you were playing some kind of mind game with me? For fun?”

“It wasn’t a mind game, Y/N. I just wanted to know why you’re interested in it.”

She bites her lip and looks down at her laptop screen, which has since gone dim since they began talking. If she’s being truthful, she’s grown tired of Professor Styles. Up until now, she was positive she was doing things wrong and he just didn’t care enough to correct her — only to find out that he wanted to work with her even more. It made zero sense.

“Are you going to do it, then?” he asks, tearing her from her thoughts. Her expression pinches as she rolls her lips into a thin line. 

“I don’t know.” she answers in a watery voice. “I like my advisor, and I assumed you didn’t like me very much.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Why wouldn’t I like you?”

“You barely utter three words to me on a daily basis and never tell me if you’re happy with my work.”

Professor Styles scoffs, leaning back against his leather computer chair. 

“You need regular approval from me to know whether or not I like you?”

“Yes,” she admits, anger building in her chest until she can’t help but blurt out what she’s thinking, “It’s how I work. If you were a good professor, you would’ve asked how I best function at the beginning of the semester. Instead, you ignore me for fun.”

“You don’t think I’m a good professor.”

She sighs and shakes her head. “I didn’t mean that. I think you are. I just don’t think you’re the best at managing teaching assistants.”

He shrugs, but she notices a slight wince in his features. “We can’t all be good at everything, can we?”

“Right,” she mumbles, drumming her fingers on the edge of his desk. When he doesn’t reply, she shuts her laptop and stuffs it in her bag. “I’m gonna go then. I’ll see you next week.”

He’s silent as she gets her things together and pulls her jacket on, wrapping her scarf around her neck and zipping it on top of her sweater for extra warmth. As her boots carry her across the length of his office and to the door, he stands from his seat. 

“Y/N,” he says, and she turns to look at him. “The deadline to change your advisor is next Friday. I hope you’ll still consider it.”

. . .

That evening, all Harry can think about is his sweet, quiet TA. The one who he undoubtedly offended earlier today — he cringes at the thought of it, replaying their conversation over and over in his head. He can’t stop thinking about the upset look on her face. When she asked if he was playing mind games with her, he wanted to get down on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He never meant to hurt her, not one bit. 

He sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. He’s had reruns of some shitty sitcom on since he got home from work a few hours ago. He didn’t want to be alone with his thoughts, but even a laugh track and ‘90s era merriment couldn’t distract him from thinking about her. 

He considers the things she said about wanting his approval. He’s never been well-liked in the English department, likely because of his rough exterior. He’s not immune to the things he hears from students and faculty, about how he’s grumpy and someone to be feared, even if he didn’t even intend to come off that way. In all honesty, he never wanted to be perceived in that matter — but once his reputation began to precede him a year or two ago, he figured there was no use in trying to convince people otherwise. 

That's how it had always gone, anyway — in high school, when he started experimenting with different styles of clothing, everyone assumed he was gay. He'd desperately tried to refute those claims, even if he wasn't completely sure of his sexuality himself. But no one cared — they'd already made up their minds, and it seemed useless to attempt to change their ways of thinking.

And when people spoke here, mumbling about how mean and terrible he was... well, what was the point?

Y/N was the only person he cared to win over, and it was eating him alive.

So much so that he made the blind decision to maybe, possibly cross a very clear boundary between professor and TA. Despite Y/N being of legal, consenting age (after looking at her student file, he found that he’s only four years older), he still attempted to prioritize maintaining a professional relationship with every one of his students and TAs. 

He couldn’t help himself with her, though. He knew it was bad — he could feel his heart thumping quickly in his chest, the logical part of his brain telling him to stop while he’s ahead, but he couldn’t. Not as he grabbed his laptop, logged into his work email, and composed a message to her student address. Not when his fingers danced over the keyboard and resisted the urge to implore her to start fresh with him. Not when he clicked ‘send’ without even proofreading to make sure it sounded appropriate, not creepy or weird.

He pushed his laptop away and got up to pour himself some wine, attempting to rid himself of any lingering guilt.

. . .

From: [email protected]

To: [email protected]

Subject: Today

Time: 9:57 p.m.

Hi Y/N, 

I wanted to apologize for how I acted today. It wasn’t kind of me and you deserve far better than that. I understand if you have no interest in changing your advisor. Please know that whatever you decide, your TA position will not be in danger, should you choose to continue working with me.

Thank you for all of your hard work. You’ve been doing an excellent job and I’ve very much enjoyed having you this semester. Have a good weekend.

x Harry Styles

. . .

On Monday, Y/N’s mind is whirring. 

It’s not because the semester is nearing midterm season, although that’s part of it. It’s because Professor Styles emailed her an apology at almost 10 pm on Friday evening, and she’s repeatedly read it over at least 50 times since receiving it. 

She didn’t reply because she wasn’t sure what to say — and, most shockingly, he didn’t sign it as Professor Styles. Instead, he ended the message with a kiss, for crying out loud, followed by his name. His name! 

It’s all she’s been able to focus on for days, to the point where she contemplates not showing up to his lecture on Monday. But she’s better than that — she’s stronger, and she’s smarter, and she doesn’t want to hide. 

She avoids Professor Styles’ gaze all throughout his lecture, instead focusing on grading first drafts for the class’ midterm paper. She knows she’ll have to sit with him in his office afterwards, and her stomach churns at the thought. In some way, she feels ashamed that she said anything to begin with. Her comments about him not managing TAs properly have made her shrivel into a mortified version of herself, and she’s shocked he didn’t fire her on the spot. 

Worst of all, she hates the way her heart jumped into her throat when his name popped up on her screen on Friday night. She craved the feeling, hoping he would, for some reason, do it again, even though she never responded. She wasn’t playing hard to get by any means, but the fact that her brain even veered in that direction proved one thing to be true: she has a big, fat crush on Professor Styles.

The knowledge sits like a rock in her stomach, especially as they walk in silence to his office after class. The air between them feels awkward, but she’s not sure that there’s ever been a time where it hasn’t felt odd between them. When he unlocks the door, she quietly steps inside, her heart skipping a beat at the space heater and lamp already turned on. 

Usually, he keeps the door open while they work. Today, he shuts it, the soft click of the lock making her jump. 

“Can we talk?”

Y/N’s throat dries but she nods, gripping the strap of her tote bag close to her arm. She turns to face him, and for the first time ever, she notices that he looks… nervous.

“About last week. I’m sorry, but I’m even more sorry for emailing you that on Friday,” he rushes the words out like he wrote a script out and was waiting to perform them, “It was completely inappropriate, and I got the hint when you didn’t reply.”

“The hint?” she peeps out, her voice squeaky and embarrassing. 

“Yeah,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest, “About not wanting me to advise you and… you probably found my email to be weird, right?”

Quickly, she shakes her head. “No, no. I.. I actually haven’t given much thought to the advisor thing, but I didn’t think it was weird. I just didn’t know how to respond.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Why’s that?”

“Because I felt guilty about what I said to begin with! A-and you could’ve fired me if you wanted to, but instead you apologized and said that I’m doing a good job—”

“You are.”

“Exactly!” she exclaims frustratedly. “I didn’t know how to respond to that.”

“To me being… kind?”

“Yes.”

He blinks at her, the crinkle between his brows deepening. 

“I’m just not used to it, Professor Styles.” she says with a sigh.

“Harry,” he corrects.

“What?”

“My name is Harry. I don’t want you to call me Professor Styles.”

Y/N ignores the quickening of her heartbeat and shifts her stance from foot to foot. 

“Why are you doing this?” she eventually blurts as she crosses her arms over her sweater-clad form. She’s not sure if she detects an inkling of pity in his face, but if she does, she wants nothing more than to run for the hills and never return. For some reason, the thought of Professor— Harry feeling bad for her makes her shoulders shudder, a prickly sensation tip-toeing down her spine, as if shame is completely and utterly eating her alive. 

His lips part in a quiet sigh. “I just… I spent the weekend thinking of you and feeling awful for the way I’ve treated you.”

Thinking of you.

I spent the weekend thinking of you.

Her stomach turns as his words echo throughout the chambers of her brain. But then there’s a click — like the second part of the sentence just ekes its way through, planting a seed of self-doubt and insecurity. And she backs away like he may explode at any moment. 

“You shouldn’t— no, that’s alright,” she shakes her head, gaze set low on the carpeted floors of his tiny office. 

“Y/N—”

Again, she cuts him off with a shake of her head, raising her eyes to look at him. His expression is pained and she wonders if hers is any better, though she assumes for different reasons: He doesn’t want to get fired for torturing another grad student. She has an inappropriate crush on the professor she works for.

“It’s all good. Call it even?” she rushes out, leaning over to grab her things from her chair, “Fresh start on Wednesday. Don’t mention it again, alright?”

She’s gone before he can stop her. 

. . .

Harry accidentally falls asleep in his office that evening. 

It’s half because he’s absolutely swamped with work, too fearful to email Y/N and add things to her grading pile after the way she all but ran away earlier today. He’s terrified he made her uncomfortable. 

He doesn’t want to return to the quiet loneliness of his apartment, where he’s constantly faced to force the reality of his life: A man in his early 30s with a job that he likes, but no one actually likes him at it. His entire family resides in London and with the exception of a few friends from his schooling years, he’s alone. Especially in the romance department.

His heart aches for Y/N. He realizes it’s a bit dramatic, even slightly taboo given the nature of their professional relationship, but he likes her. He likes her so much that he doesn’t want to go home and think about how badly he messed things up, so he falls asleep face-down on his desk, his cranium wedged between piles of pens and a Post-It list of to-do’s. 

When he wakes up, he doesn’t know how long he’s been asleep for. The soft, golden light from the lamp is still just barely bathing the circumference of the room, but as he blinks his eyes open, he realizes that it’s silent. He can see through the small frosted window that the hallways are dim, which means it’s most definitely sometime in the evening. 

He feels… somewhat guilty but charged as he wakes from the fog of his sleep, eyebrows furrowing as he stretches his arms out. His neck already aches from the discomfort of his sleeping position and he groans, lifting a palm to sort the knot out. 

And that’s when he realizes it — why he feels as if his body is buzzing, his hands sweaty and his throat dry. He’d woken up in the middle of a sex dream and, like a pathetic teenager, the star of it had been his crush. Y/N. 

He scoffs to himself as he glances down at his crotch where, sure enough, his length is painfully hard beneath the constriction of his trousers and underwear. He swallows, eyes flickering closed. He can remember the exact details of his dream, even if they send a bead of guilt dripping down his chest — they’d been in his office, just like this. She was between his legs, knees pressing into the carpet of the floor, her eyes rounded and expectant as he toyed with her, pretending to guide his cock between her lips only to take it away at the last minute. She pouted every time, a plushy lipped-frown punctuating the words he hadn’t even realized he’d been dying to hear: “Please Professor Styles, stop teasing me.”

At the realization, he’s sent into a frenzy. He doesn’t even think to check whether the door is locked (or maybe if he’s locked in the building, no less), before he’s clawing at his belt and zipper, yanking the fabrics down to reveal a pair of swollen balls. His length stands hard, his eyes nearly rolling back just from the feeling of looping his fingers around the base. He can’t remember the last time he was this pent up just from his own imagination, but it’s not a difficult place to return — not as his head leans back against his office chair, allowing his dream to pick up and take form in full consciousness. 

So much pre-cum is bubbling at the tip that he doesn’t need much of his own spit to lubricate himself. He bites his lip hard to prevent himself from groaning out too loudly, envisioning the way she’d finally suckle around the tip of his cock, looking up at him with proud eyes. He’d gradually help her go deeper, but she’d be excited, willing to bruise her throat for him. She was so good — in his dreams, in real life, she was always so, so good.

“So good, Professor,” she’d pant out, popping off to lick a stripe up the side of his cock. With spit-swollen lips, she’d venture down to his balls, rolling them in the palm of her hands before taking each one into her mouth. In reality, he gasps at that, tugging them in his own hand. 

But what really gets him there is an impossible thought — one that has nothing to do with the silly wet dream his brain conjured while he slept. Her in her own bedroom, her naked form wrapped up in her sheets while he gazed over lovingly, pressing soft kisses along her shoulder and down her arm. She’d giggle breathily before flipping onto her side to face him. And she’d say it — I love you — and it’d feel like heaven. 

That’s what pushes him to finish all over his hand, cum dribbling over his fist as he pants and gasps like he’s just discovered masturbation. His orgasm encompasses his entire body, a few beautiful, peaceful moments of complete pleasure that causes all of his muscles to tighten deliciously. Of course, he envisions her taking all of his cum, licking it up eagerly over his digits, making a show of it — she’d open her mouth, pretty pink tongue out, and he’d watch as she swallows. He shudders at the thought of it, quickly snapping his eyes open and grabbing a tissue from the box on his desk to clean himself up. He’s immediately back to his grumbly state as he does, irritated that he allowed himself to lose control in such a finite way.

He tosses the dirty tissue in the garbage can and stands up to tug his briefs and pants back up. The clink of his belt buckle is the only sound throughout the small room, so he jumps when a knock sounds on the other side of his closed door. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, someone knows, I must have said her name, I’m such a fucking freak—

His eyes widen when the person speaks: “Profess— Harry? Are you in there? It’s Y/N.”

#writing #English profrry #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles one direction #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fic rec #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #one direction #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc

[throwaway-yandere]

FLAWLESS (Yandere!Various Genshin/Reader)

A/n: This is a complete interactive fic w/ CGs! There’s an HP system and 4 possible endings (yandere!Scaramouche, Alhaitham, Kaveh, and Kazuha). This is my final fanfic and I really put my best effort into drawing and writing this. Have fun!!! Your choices matter so read the evidences properly and try not to get a bad ending hahaha. (Pls answer this poll after and feel free to send me memes about who you got hAHHAHA)

Unreliable Synopsis: (Danganronpa!Genshin AU) If this is your last dance as an idol, then you do not want it. No. You’ll make the real criminal sing instead.

CW: yandere themes, blood, murders (well duh ansy–), and brief mentions of suicide.

Kazuha frowned. "For (L/n) (Y/n), this whole ordeal must seem like a flawless crime."

"They don't know the murder weapon, the suspects— no nothing." Kaveh sighed.

Alhaitham interjected. "Indeed, but the real questions will begin in a moment."

Words punctured the air in nameless accusations. Each time people enter this room, only distrust looms acting both as a safety blanket and suffocating plastic. You stared at the people left. One, two, three, four, five... You clenched your fist, and all those fingers pointed back at you. 

The sixth. 

There are only six survivors left.

"Say, (L/n) (Y/n)." Your Akademiyan companions stared at you as Kunikuzushi’s smirk could practically be heard in his voice. "Where were you at the time of the murder?"

You gulped.

The Teyvat Akademiya. Home only to the most renowned student of their craft. The faculty carefully picks out select groups of students to be their new freshmen- and it can only be counted by hand how many had declined such a generous offer. It was a government state university, but it was also a golden ticket to knowing people from high places.  

Each student was known for contributing something in their fields of interest. In fact, both your adoptive siblings were alumni of this prestigious school. Your brother Aether was a famous "adventurer" (as he loved to call himself instead of an artifact-obsessed archeologist) whereas your sister Lumine was a remarkable swordswoman with a straight-edged track record. Even your older friends, Dainsleif, and a certain glasses-wearing individual you had forgotten the name of were graduates and now boast incredible resumes befitting of an Akademiyan. Each alumnus you've met wasn't someone any person with a head on their shoulders would dare disrespect. 

But that was not the reason for your schoolmates’ evident intimidation.

“Allow them a moment to process,” Alhaitham scoffed. “The Body Discovery Announcement was approximately 2 hours ago. It’s challenging for individuals from the entertainment industry such as them to comprehend complicated matters in a few seconds.”

“I would’ve fainted at your rare attempt at empathy if it wasn't obviously pointed,” Kaveh scoffed before turning to you with a soft stare. “(Y/n), don’t listen to these two, I’m sure we can find out if you’re innocent or not later.”

You gave a short nod of assent.

Tragically, murders had become the norm for college students like yourself. No one has flinched at Kaveh’s grim mention of a suspect lurking by and none had the insanity to deny what had occurred.

It began when you first woke up in one of the Akademiya's classrooms. You stirred awake on a desk near Shikanoin Heizou, the "Detective Prince". He was a famous figure, so you instantly believed him when he said you were both hauled into this location against your will. You were enthused by his infectious desire to uncover whatever was behind the “kidnapping” you found yourselves in. He told you not to worry, that despite the barred windows and inaccessible exits, you'd both "probably" find a way out.  As you both wandered around the area, you found fourteen other students (some familiar faces, some not as much). For a brief moment of hope, everyone thought escape was possible. 

That was until a certain cold-eyed puppet entered the scene.

A heartless puppet you’re sure was waiting for everyone just under that elevator.

“Is… Is this everyone?” You asked like a mouse, frightened as your eyes darted for any hints of twinned cyan hair. Nothing about your recent behavior had gone unnoticed.

Senior Faruzan is missing…

Yoimiya frowned, grabbing your hand for comfort. “(Y/n)…”

Kunikuzushi scoffed. “Enough of this dumb ohhh boohoo exhibit. Let’s go.”

The most mysterious of the bunch left for the stairs immediately, punching the button on the elevator to its ground floor. Yoimiya huffed, muttering complaints about Kuni’s behavior while the three other men followed her silently. No one took the stairs two at a time and walked at a snail’s pace. A clear indication that no one wanted this to occur. 

And just like in the previous cases, Kazuha’s eyes were on you the entire time but spoke nothing of this behavior.

The elevator door opened. You looked at the camera above it. If the Shogun's words are to be trusted, then the outside world is watching your every move like reality TV.

If that's the case, might as well give them a show.

Kunikuzushi stepped aside, royally ushering everyone— and specifically YOU— in.

“Idols first.”

Everyone entered the trial room. If the mood from earlier was tense, it is worse now that you’re inside. Stepping into the cold room makes the situation all the more real.

There is an execution waiting to happen, but without a hint if it’ll be “us” or “them”. Every bright person inside the room here had previously partaken in 4 of these court sessions by force. Since no one can exit the premises nor contact the outside world, the only key out was to kill and avoid getting caught. 5 people had attempted to commit murder, and considering how you’re still breathing, none of the “blackened” had succeeded in getting their way.

How… How did it come to this? 

You enrolled in the Akademiya in hopes that you'd also find the subtle clues as to why Aether went missing, this wasn't in your plan.

Getting roped into this killing “game” was on no one’s to-do list. You received an invitation to enroll in the Akademiya because of your stark idol career, although your siblings being famous alumni may have greatly increased your chances of receiving that privilege. You would’ve thrown that paper into the fire if you knew you’d get dizzy upon arriving in the Akademiya and will wake up in such a heartbreaking dilemma. Hearing from a grapevine, you discovered that Kaveh was invited for his architectural drafts, Kazuha for his poems and a bit of swordsmanship in his repertoire, Yoimiya for her firework shows, and Kunikuzushi?… You don’t know. But you are wholly aware as to why Alhaitham is here as your senior— you were there when he opened his letter after all.

The “mascot” is yet to make her entrance. So, as “obedient” students, you’ve uncomfortably shuffled to the places you were meant to stand. Bile rose inside your throat as you looked at the last five students excluding yourself circling the room— with Faruzan’s crossed-out portrait to your right while Kamisato Ayaka’s on your left. It would appear that most of the dead students were on your side and the closest breathing person next to you was Kunikuzushi, who was two photographs away.

Alhaitham, Amber, Tighnari, Ajax, Albedo, Kamisato Ayaka, You, Faruzan, Xiao, "Kunikuzushi", Kaveh, Cyno, Yoimiya, Layla, Yunjin, Kaedehara Kazuha, and Shikanoin Heizou.

The deceased faces had been crossed out in bright violet paint, a nauseatingly unsubtle reminder that only six remained. Yet, the one that was meant to sit towering above was missing.

“… Where’s The Shogun?” Kazuha asked.

“Ah, so you do have a voice. And here I was about to call you a cricket. I thought our poet lost his words, considering how the previous trial ended,” Kunikuzushi mocked, rolling his eyes. “Just wait and see.”

You sighed, hoping it was quiet enough for Kuni not to have heard it. 

The last trial broke everyone’s spirits and sense of camaraderie the most. Before trials, the puppet gives everyone an incentive to kill. In the Ayaka-Heizou murder case, each student was given a videotape that raised more questions than answers. Yours was a clip of Lumine, your fellow theater actors, and idol mates congratulating you for your enrollment before it cuts off to a scene of your home burned to cinders. As for Ayaka, hers was a short-lived message of her older brother asking her to come visit the clan for Thoma’s upcoming birthday— before it cuts to a gruesome scene of her brother fatally wounded on their living room floor. 

“Find out what happens once you graduate!”... and then the tape ends.

Whoever was the mastermind behind this killing, you had to admit, they were an expert in psychological torture. And unfortunately for everyone, Ayaka was a smart individual— killing the most trustworthy student, Heizou, to cover her tracks better. She put up quite the fight in manipulating everyone to think that you and Kaveh were possible culprits.

You even got into an argument with the calmest person around. Kazuha was “convinced” that Ayaka was right, which led to you two entering an incredibly heated argument that left him depressed with his rejected apology. You were on "good terms" with him before, that being he would always offer to cook food and accompany you often. 

… Perhaps that was a good thing. Discreetly, you thought he strangely knew you to a degree that makes you far from comfortable. It still bugs you how he knew you all too well and yet you know nothing about him other than his aspirations: traditional Inazuman poetry writing with a bit of karuta on the side.

Maybe he used to be a big fan of yours? Even so, the foundation of your music, choreography, and persona was weaved through a tapestry of feel-good lies. And yet, he was wise enough to speak your true thoughts before you even hesitated to voice them in your cheery idol tone. 

But that’s not the issue right now. 

The issue on your plate was that you had no evidence to prove your innocence except for the list of school rules on your E-Handbook because you were convinced someone will kill you during the investigation.

You laughed to yourself bitterly. Might as well review those rules now.

You opened the E-Handbook.

As per “school rules”, there are regulations to be had in a murder game, but none stick to you as these three. Rule #10 and #7: A class trial will commence after three or more students have discovered a corpse, and a Body Discovery Announcement will play as soon as it occurs. However, a trial will be held if and only if every survivor is present; failure to do so will result in class “expulsion.” 

And the last rule that never left your mind was Rule #8: If the guilty party is exposed during the class trial, they alone will be executed.

By the end of Trial #4, she did not receive a proper execution. Ayaka was compelled to restore her honor and raised her sword to…

…

… You couldn’t hate her for it. Even though you were close friends with Heizou, you couldn’t hate any of your fellow students. They all had family, hopes, and visions for the future. Each one here was "a fledgling barely out of the nest." You couldn’t deny that you would’ve done the same.

"Since the Shogun isn't here yet, let's get a headstart," Kaveh gripped the court fence, eyeing everyone with a nervous stare and stiff posture. "What's your alibis?"

Nobody raised their voice initially. You cast a pitying glance toward Kaveh. When it comes to your closest friendships, he comes in second only to Heizou. As someone who had seen the horrors of the media which is essentially a mirror of the world's social issues, Kaveh's one of the few decent individuals left on the planet, in your opinion. In moments of quiet, you, Kaveh, and Faruzan used to chat together, with Heizou periodically interrupting to share his findings regarding everyone's entrapment.

Considering how Kaveh is your last true friend left, you volunteered yourself.

"I never left my room," you spoke audibly depressed, no longer caring that you appeared un-idol-like. "And I refused entry as well. I heard a couple of angry knocks at 9:37 p.m., but I didn't open my door for anyone."

You looked at Kazuha, hurt and accusingly.

You'd never forget how Kazuha called you a murderer. That intense argument made up 30% of Heizou's class trial. He lost his composure and called you a "dishonorable monster". The whole back-and-forth was very much unlike him. After the trial, neither of you talked– and you never left your room unless it was to get something to eat without anyone in sight.

If he was the one who killed Faruzan because he can’t get to you, then you’ll…

"9:37 eh? You got a watch now?" Kunikuzushi pointed at your wrist.

You snapped out of your aggression and nodded, which made him break out in a fit of laughter. 

"HAHAHA!!!" Kunikuzushi grinned, wide. "Learned your lesson, huh?!"

You scoffed, but your ego was humbled and your heart sank at his harsh words. 

Everyone in the room nearly lost their lives because of your time-blindness. It's precisely what made Kazuha suspicious of your motives. You were always unsure of the time, hence, you didn't have the most watertight alibi compared to Ayaka. Before you entered your room to lock yourself, Alhaitham blocked the door with his shoe and handed you his spare wristwatch. He was the last person you saw before your self-isolation.

"Good," Alhaitham said. "And you, Kunikuzushi?"

"Are we going to ignore that angry knocking thing?" Kaveh rightfully asked.

"Let's complete the first task first," Alhaitham answered. "Let's follow the circle; it's (Y/n), then Kunikuzushi, Kaveh, Yoimiya, Kazuha, then I."

"Conveniently putting yourself last," Kunikuzushi snarled. "But whatever. I was napping in my dorm. Woke up when I heard footsteps outside and decided to investigate. The discovery alarm rang off when I entered the nurse's office the second time."

Kaveh fell silent, his face pale.

"I… never went to m dorm that night"

"Oh?" You and Yoimiya curiously said in unison.

"I-I was with Alhaitham, patrolling!!!" Kaveh defended; his arms in the air. "I swear on my life, I was with him! We're probably the footsteps Kuni heard."

He spoke as if it was a good thing with his mouth, but he was whispering that it wasn’t with his eyes.

"Can't be certain," Kunikuzushi threw in a quick grumble and snapped his fingers. “But I think that's probably the case.”

"That makes sense. I mean, if Kuni was telling the truth then that just means there's more chance it's just those two hopping around. Oh, and I was actually on the second floor at the time. I was in the recreational room cause I wanted to get tokens for the cute little Shogun Stall.'' If Kuni’s side comment lasted a month, then Yoimiya's would be a year– but her good cheer is just what everyone needed to alleviate the tension.

"I wasn't in my dorm room either," Kazuha said. "I was in the cafeteria. I couldn't sleep so I decided to fry fish."

"True, I think. When I checked the cafeteria a knife was missing from the shelf."

"We’ll keep your fact-checking in mind, Miss Naganohara." 

No soul was sure if Alhaitham was being genuine about it except for you. And the answer was yes, he was being warily appreciative. Admittedly, you don’t know any of these people before this killing game started, except for one person…

Alhaitham looked away, conscious of how you looked at him.

In all fairness, Alhaitham was closer to Lumine than you and Aether, and he wasn’t your favorite neighbor either. As a kid, he was the type who would leave in the middle of hide-and-seek simply because the ordeal wasn’t “stimulating” to his developing intellect. He had a habit of causing uncomfortable situations just to “observe” your reactions with an emotionless stare. Alhaitham had once given you a sumeru rose with a startling grasshopper to see how you would behave, and the worst part is that everyone knows he did these without malice. His grandmother had to force a sorry out of him for your tears to dry. “He probably has a crush on you, you know how boys are,” was the excuse the old lady tried, but your twin siblings were quick to shut that thought down. You and he were simply oil and water, nothing more, nothing less.

But there were times you two got along. When you aired out loud sentiments regarding how stuffy his room must be, you snatched the book he was reading and dashed up the nearest tree. Despite his grumbling reservations, he was thankful that you taught him how to climb that afternoon. That was the first you saw him smile wider than usual and offered to narrate the book you stole: The Little Prince. 

However, that version of Alhaitham you’ve come to love remains awol amidst this killing game.

"As for my whereabouts: Kaveh is correct. He and I were patrolling just the first floor and exchanging conversation. Neither of us could sleep. We started at 9:15 and ended abruptly at 11:05, when we, along with Kunikuzushi, found–"

"The body." Kunikuzushi finished.

"Yes," Alhaitham said.

Kunikuzushi smirked. From your perspective, the worst part about this was not Kunikuzushi’s inappropriate smugness, but the look in his eyes that mirrored what Heizou used to have— what your good friend used to be. The light in his eyes, his more forward demeanor, the way he crossed his arms and snapped his fingers– it was as if he was copying him. 

Mocking him.

You hate Kunikuzushi. You detest just how much you don’t know why he’s in the Akademiya or anything else about him other than his first name. You loathe how he had made it his job to be the antagonist of every damn class trial. You hate how he looks at you as though you’re beneath him. You despise how much he is willing to withhold vital information till the very end.

Kunikuzushi is like a commedia dell’arte stock character. A Scaramouche. An unreliable servant. You can’t trust a man who said he was moved by your acting in all your filmography only to act like he wants nothing more than to crush your spirits once lives were at stake.

After listening to everyone’s alibis, your intuition screamed from something deep within a place you had begun to trust after experiencing these trials:

Out of six survivors, FOUR of them are hiding something.

“Is everyone present?”

Before you could speak up, a low and refined woman’s voice stole everyone’s attention. All turned to gaze at the long synthetic-haired lady with a katana by her side. She returned the stares with an unfathomable coldness as she strutted to her throne, the silk of her grand kimono touching the floor. 

There she is. The lone audience and judge. The puppet: the Almighty Raiden Shogun. Undoubtedly made of metal and not flesh. Xiao had learned that firsthand when he sacrificed his life in an honorable duel against the captor— but seeking freedom by force was of no use when she herself is capable of the murders she wished to witness.

“Very well. We shall begin.”

“W-Wait, hold up, ma'am!”

The last vaguely extroverted cheerleader raised her hand; her bravery to interrupt the Shogun was acknowledged.

“... Can I share my E-Handbook data with (Y/n)?” She asked, high-pitched.

The medical and criminological technology of this era eluded everyone. Trapped inside the Akademiya with no phones or any signal to the outside world, each student only has their E-Handbook to rely on. It contains information the owner investigated regarding murders and records testimonies made by their peers. A handbook is only “handy” for both people who were hoping to survive and those who were hoping to twist the facts. 

And that offer is exactly what you need.

“You see– they didn’t leave their room during the investigation period– probably worried that the killer might be after them next and they kinda turned into a hikikomori for the past few days. I’m kinda worried they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves on this trial so… So, uh… Pretty please?” The blonde girl smiled nervously.

The Raiden Shogun stared, calculating.

“I shall allow it.”

“Thank you so much!” Yoimiya tapped her E-Handbook as fast as she could, more eager than you were in watching the loading screen fill up.

(SYSTEM: RECEIVING NAGANOHARA YOIMIYA’S E-HANDBOOK DATA…)

(SYSTEM: TRANSFER COMPLETE.)

You smiled at Yoimiya but it came out crooked and jaded. She didn’t complain that you weren’t at your top form today, but she did send you a loud “Do your best!” in her native tongue.

The Shogun walked to the throne and took her seat.

“Now then, let the class trial begin.”

Out like a bolt of lightning, the doors behind you were completely shut with metal bars in her flick of a wrist. In her twisted form of justice, she hammered the circular surface with her gavel.

“Court is now in session.”

(SYSTEM: TAP HERE TO CONTINUE)

#ansy-writes #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male #yandere alhaitham #yandere wanderer #yandere kazuha #yandere scaramouche #yandere kaveh #yandere kazuha x reader #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere male lead #soft yandere #tw yandere #scaramouche #genshin imagines #alhaitham #kaveh #kaedehara kazuha #scaramouche x reader #kazuha x reader #alhaitham x reader #kaveh x reader #yandere alhaitham x reader #yancore #tag: flawless

[totalswag]

graduation - RAFE CAMERON

authors note we love soft!rafe thats all i gotta say

summary rafe's is supposed to attend his girlfriends graduation but told her he couldn't make it last minute due to work stuff. rafe finishes his work stuff early and decides to surprise his girlfriend after the ceremony with flowers.

warnings crying, cussing, wholesome content

It’s graduation

You are officially finished with school for the rest of your life. On to the next phase of your life. Everything you've done to get here has paid off. All those examinations you studied so hard for, to the point of crying and wanting to quit, paid off in the end.

The second you stopped onto campus as a freshman, you couldn't wait to get your degree and graduate from college. It’s been your dream to go to Chapel Hill University since high school.

Your entire family gathered to see you walk across the stage and receive your diploma. You were glad to see them all here on this special occasion. In a way, seeing your loved ones cheer you on as you walk across the stage in your gown and cap, receiving your diploma and degree is a great pat on the back.

There is one person in particular you wish was attending.

Your boyfriend, Rafe.

“Is Rafe coming?” Y/F/N asks, nudging your shoulder. 

Y/F/N met freshman year, you lived in the same dorm. A week after knowing each other, you instantly clicked. You two live in a two bedroom apartment near campus. She’s that type of friend you know you can count on no matter what.

“He said work got super busy and that his dad needed him to stay to help out” you sigh, “he wishes he could be here though '' choking on your words but you take a deep breath to calm yourself down.

When Rafe told you on the phone he wasn’t gonna make it due to work your whole world came crashing down in one second. You know how much Rafe takes work seriously– it's a family business he needs to take care of. 

Y/F/N pouts, wrapping her left arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a hug to give you some sort of comfort. 

“I bet he wishes he was here too, Y/N.” Y/F/N knows how much you want him to be here and watch you walk the stage. 

Before you could answer, the president announced everyone to stand up to receive their awards and degrees.

This is finally it.

After the ceremony, you walked around the large crowd of families to find yours. You took a bunch of pictures with your friends before you went over to your family. Your mom texted you where everyone was at.

When you found your family, you walked over with the biggest smile on your face holding your diploma in the air, moving it up and down.

Everyone came over to you and congratulated you. In so many ways, the love you received from your family warmed your heart. You were also given flowers and balloons. There were numerous pictures taken. 

Multiple conversations between the family started happening.

Your older brother and his wife arrived, followed by their two-month-old daughter, your niece. Your brother handed her to you. She wore a onesie with writing that said, My auntie graduated  with flowers all throughout. For the photo, you held her by her armpits, pulling her face to yours and kissing her nose. 

"Ugh, I love being your auntie!" You exclaimed as you cradled her.

She looked up at you with a grin, making you smile even more.

Your mom had her phone in her hand, ready to take a picture of you with the flowers and your diploma. Your mom is a photographer, she takes amazing pictures and usually takes pictures of you for your instagram sometimes.

Everyone gathered around to take pictures of you as well.

So much was going on that you didn't notice Rafe standing behind you with a bouquet of flowers and a card he bought for you.

You could feel a male present standing behind you. You smelt a familiar cologne, Rafe’s cologne. 

"Congratulations, baby," he quietly said, catching you off guard.

Your eyes had blown out of their sockets. Your heart was racing at a hundred miles per hour. You spun around, putting your arms around Rafe and pulled him closer, unable to let go.

Rafe was the only one who mattered right now.

Tears began to build up in the corners of your eyes.

“How are you even here right now? I thought you couldn’t make it today” you cried, kissing his face, laughing.

“Well, I was able to get the important stuff done and decided to surprise you” Rafe explained, holding your waist.

"Did you see me-" you are interrupted by him, "yes, baby, I was there to see you walk the stage."

"I believe these are for you, my pretty lady," he says as he hands you a gorgeous bouquet of your favorite flowers. 

"Thank you Rafe, these are beautiful."

"I'm so proud of you and everything you've done to get to where you are now." "This is definitely a proud boyfriend moment," you sigh, then laugh at his final remarks.

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader

[ressjeon]

desperate | pjm (m.)

pairing: model!jimin x pa!reader

summary: being Jimin's assistant made you immune from his flirty tactics, but somehow you find it hard to resist him when he unusually becomes desperate.

rating: 18+ | word count: 3.8k

genre/au: smut (a bit of plot if you squint)

warnings/content: crude language, masturbation, fellatio, handjob, deepthroating, face fucking?, switch dynamics, a lot of pining ig, cheeky jimin that has many lustful thoughts and he's a brat too oml

a/n: been a long while and this is unplanned as always lmao. was supposed to be posted on the 14th but the universe said no so i couldn’t post it. anyways, this is for the 2nd anniversary of this blog’s official debut in this community so why not post a fic of the person who made me start writing in the first place, as the first fic of 2023 just like he was my first fic in this blog (just in time with vibe’s release, his solo album announcement and his official partnership with Dior too! 0.0). thank you Jimin for being my light, i love you 🥰

― masterlist — navigation — wips

You’re currently on your knees, helping Jimin out with his problem.

Not that kind, goodness no. He’s been doing practice poses for his shoot as soon as he arrived like he always does in each photoshoot. You ignored his flushed look when he entered the studio, already knowing his morning routine and went straight for the pre-shoot meeting. Everything was smooth until you noticed some stain on his black pants when you were checking him for any final touches.

So here you are now, dabbing the wet wipes around the spot on his thigh while he’s leaning against the frame of the glass partition behind him. 

He’s lucky that most of the staff are not here yet so you have time to remove the stain from his pants, a cum stain that almost made you scream when he told you sheepishly that it was from some girl he fucked this morning before coming to the studio.

“are you still mad? i told you i didn't realize she’d be a creamer”

In any other situation, this would've been a strange exchange with someone you essentially work for. Jimin has no filter in the way he talks to you but you don’t really mind it as you do the same. You and he have grown closer to one another each day since you started working for him so these types of conversations became normal between you both.

It's one of the perks of Jimin hiring someone around his age for a personal assistant. You've been with him from the very start of his career, barely scraping anything during that time with the both of you fresh from graduation. When he initially asked you, you looked at him incredulously because his plan was quite risky. Jimin understood your hesitance but he was surprised when you finally agreed after a bit of consideration.

Your friends said that it must be the puppy eyes that he constantly gives you but no, you knew of Jimin during college. It’s common knowledge from your mutual acquaintances of how hardworking he is and you’ve witnessed it a few times before so you said yes because why not. You're both in the same boat anyways, still looking for other jobs and who knows, if this works then it will be great for your future careers. 

You remember when Jimin got his very first paycheck, running up to you with a tight hug and asking you something that you’ve been wanting for a while. You were confused but then he cracked a smile and revealed that he wanted to treat you as a gratitude for doing your best to find casting calls and gigs for him. You were happy of course, with both of your hard work finally coming to fruition.

This dynamic you have with Jimin as a very close friend and colleague has been pretty balanced as the years go by. There are times when you fought, unavoidable with your contrasting personalities but you both became comfortable with one another regardless. This makes your teamwork efficient with more understanding from both sides as your relationship gets closer.

“believe me, it’s hers, not mine i swear” he adds, repeating what he explained earlier when you don’t answer him.

Thoughts aside, you do, of course, believe him because Jimin’s one of the most responsible guys you’ve ever known. He always comes prepared for photoshoots and arrives early to do last-minute check-ups despite what his shenanigans are the night before like earlier today. He’ll never go bare with anyone to avoid risks because he already experienced some scares before from past hookups.

No answer from you still but it’s partly because you've been in shambles on the inside with what you feel for him these days. You’re not only annoyed by this whole thing but you also felt uneasy at what he said. You’ve been used to it but you somehow felt the sting when he explicitly laid out his latest hookup. 

You’ll never admit to yourself or him why because it would be unprofessional.

At the same time, you’ve also been fighting to focus only on finishing up what you’re doing, occasionally straying your eyes toward the glass windows to calm yourself down. He was practically naked in front of you, with his damn gold necklace where its round pendant dances around his belly button and pointing down to the huge bulge he was sporting. And it would’ve helped if he’s covered, at least while you’re still on the floor. But apparently, he felt the need to not zip it up and just wear it as it is, torturing you with his sculpted body. 

You shouldn’t mind it but you’re a bit suspicious because Jimin’s always been involved in his photoshoots. He always consults with you regarding his outfits even if it’s not part of your job. He often asks for your input as well, discussing his ideas with you before he gives them a go. For this shoot, he picked this specific hooded jacket among all the ones that you’ve shown him, insisting on wearing it without anything under it because this one is apparently very loose. 

Which became an immense distraction to you. 

You remember zoning out earlier in the meeting room when Jimin was picking the final photos from his pre-shoot, trying all the concepts that he’s been wanting to do. You were already a mess with his slicked-back hair and exposed body along with his tight pants. And now you couldn't stop staring at his veiny hands as they hovered around the pictures. The gold rings on both of his index fingers didn’t help either, turning your focus on them instead of listening to him explaining to you and his stylist. 

Jimin of course notices and teases you like always. Though he’s been doing it more frequently these days, adding more to the brewing tension between you. 

He ran his fingers through the pinned pictures on the pegboard and casually picked up the pictures near where you were standing by the edge of the table. He leans closer and closer so you have to fight the urge to look at him, instead focusing your attention on talking with this stylist.

“you alright, __?”

You just scoff and roll your eyes at him, brushing him off with an excuse of being sleep deprived. He’s doing this on purpose, he could’ve lied to you earlier about fucking someone because how is he still hard? Thankfully he zipped up for now so his oversized jacket covers it but you knew he had a hunch about why you’d been acting weird around him right now.

Jimin's been smiling, knowing that his current hairstyle has been your favourite. He noticed it when he had his rainbow blond one last time where you couldn't stop touching his hair, hands constantly on it whether hair spraying it or simply tugging its strands whenever you can, reasoning that it's looking messy though it's not.

You couldn't stop looking at him too, eyes staying on him more than you ever did since working for him. That's why he specifically talked to the stylist and the photographer about bringing this hairstyle back for this photoshoot since it’ll also fit with his whole look. Also, you’ve been sneaking glances at him today which has been lifting up his mood. It just adds to how hard his dick is already, affecting you this much makes him very excited for today.

“Jimin, you can't do the shoot with this” you will yourself to ask, relieved that your voice came out sterned. When you look up at him, Jimin swears that his cock just twitched at the view of you in this position, his thoughts playing a different scenario where you’re giving him the suck of his life.

“then help me..” he mindlessly responded, totally not paying attention to what you’re referring to. He's not sure really, his mind’s still hazy and all he can think of is the ache of his balls from not being able to cum earlier.

“i’m trying” you grumble, ignoring his pouting. He’s adorable when he’s like this, and he uses that on you when he wants something. Sometimes it works when he combines it with his affectionate touches but you have to be strong this time. You’re not even sure what he’s specifically talking about but then you’ve also been occupied in trying to fight off your growing lust for him. 

Jimin’s pout turns into a grin after catching your eyes flickering from looking anywhere and on his bulge again, he can sense how your hand’s so tempted to touch it with how much you’re gripping his pants. Your hand continues to fidget, eyes unfocused as you continue to wipe off that stain as hard as you can just in case. You don’t look annoyed now either, but you’re wearing a struggling expression that tells him just how conflicted you are at this moment.

You’re beyond torn because that fucking tent of his pants is dissolving your annoyance little by little with sinful thoughts already creeping up your mind the longer you stay down the floor. 

“where are you looking at?”

“the city view looks good from here”

You automatically answer, clearing your throat in the process before gathering up the pack of wet wipes and the damp cloth along with a bowl of cold water from the ground. You avoid looking at Jimin’s face because you knew he was going to try something now that he noticed your slight slip of judgment.

“yeah, the view is amazing but my view from here is better”

“up or down?” 

“both, but i’d say down. you’d say the opposite, right __?”

You almost dropped what you're holding at his remark but this is nothing new to you: Jimin shamelessly throwing his lewd innuendos at you at any chance he got. You indulge him in it, after all, it’s just harmless flirting between friends, something that you never expected when you took this job. Sometimes it's part of your banter, you doing the same thing to him which catches him off guard sometimes when he's focusing on something while working. You especially do it when discussions of his escapades come to light, which you helped in arranging because of his demanding schedules.

Yes, you’re this dedicated to your job even if it sometimes causes an ache in your heart. 

“why? didn’t you fuck someone?” you deflect, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’s affecting you.

“yeah but i didn’t get to cum, couldn’t…” he trails off as he closes his eyes and grabs his crotch to hopefully feel a little bit of comfort but it's no use. He wants to tell you why he couldn't, wants to let you know who has been stopping him from getting off with other people but you don't care anyways.

“then get rid of it, you still have time”

You state with urgency, nervously looking around if anyone saw but everyone’s been doing their own thing. Patting his thigh, you stand up from your kneeling position and push aside your want to help him in getting rid of it. He might be good at hiding his expressions but he does look like he’s been struggling for hours since he arrived on set. Jimin didn’t do anything but huff before retreating to the dressing room to take care of his problem.

Now that most of the staff are here, you check in with them for any possible last-minute changes. It took your mind off Jimin a bit but your eyes couldn’t stop glancing at the door of his dressing room. You shake your head, pushing yourself to focus on your current task. It’s still early but you want to make sure Jimin’s ready when the scheduled time for his photoshoot is on. This is an important shoot for him so you just hope that he finishes as soon as possible to not keep everyone waiting. 

After you’ve double-checked everything, you decide to fetch Jimin. Nearing his door though is making you more agitated than you already are. You’re about to knock when you hear his loud, sexy groan. fuck. 

You haven't really heard how Jimin sounds properly because each time you catch him fucking someone, either during his breaks or random times when you need something for him to confirm, his partners’ moans usually overpower his so this is quite new, and you won’t deny that you'd love to hear more of it.

“oh fuck..fuck”

Jimin being this loud causes you to panic at the possibility of anyone in the studio hearing him like this. This might not be new for some of the staff but still, you just don’t want everyone to hear how he sounds like. 

You took a deep breath before wandering your eyes around if anyone was watching but thankfully, everyone was busy.

.

He wonders if you’re listening, purposely moaning louder than he intends to as he fists his cock. You probably don’t care and if you ever catch him, you’ll just ignore his attempts and scold him for taking too long at this. It’s always been the case with you but he does find it amusing to piss you off more.

So when he hears the door opening, a smirk creeps up on his face before opening his half-lidded eyes.

“y–”

“shut up” you seethe as you approach his propping form on his vanity. He thinks it's just one of his imaginations again, indulging him with his fantasies. But when he feels you grab the chain of his wrap necklace towards you, his eyes open fully before releasing a small gasp. The smaller chain loop fastens gradually around his neck when you begin pulling its long chain gently while looking into his eyes. He maintains eye contact and you notice the hunger and mischief in them as you continue to pull his necklace.

“s-shit” he whines quietly, though the smirk still remains on his gorgeous face as his hand continues to stroke his cock even faster. His other hand reaches for the dark bottle of lube, bringing it in front of you before pumping its nozzle on his very angry tip.

He closes his eyes again, placing the bottle back on the table while his other hand spreads the lube around his dick. You’re speechless for a second with this whole show he’s putting on, pausing to watch him. It’s when his other hand comes up in an attempt to touch you to come closer that breaks your reverie, swatting his hand away.

You stare him down, brows scrunching while contemplating what to do next. This would be crossing whatever boundaries you have with Jimin both in your personal and professional relationship. You had to look away from him to think this through. You’re used to seeing him semi-naked with other people before but not like this. Him now naked from the waist down in front of you, his tight black pants pooling around his ankles.

It’s Jimin’s desperate whimpers that made your mind up. There’s no point in denying wanting the same thing he desires from you.

“i’ll help you but don't make a sound” you command and he nods, too fucked out to respond because all he wants is his release.

Your hand replaces his before you kneel on the hard floor, immediately swallowing his cock to not waste more time. One of Jimin’s hands is on your head at once, not gripping your hair but just holding onto you for support because fuck, your mouth feels so much better than his hands, hell it's even better than pussies he’s had before.

It’s you, of course, Jimin has always thought about how much better you’ll be at pleasuring him than others. He smiles after noticing your demeanour change as soon as your mouth envelops him. It must be the lube flavour that he specifically picked knowing apple’s one of your favourites. Your mouth is greedily sucking him in now, warm tongue lapping up the entirety of his cock.

"you were drooling for my cock earlier, hmm? bet you wouldn't mind sucking me off in front of everyone outside" his mocking tone shudders, his attempt of gaining control wavering with you being encouraged by what he said. You bob your head faster, opening your mouth more to take him deeper cause the view from where you are is spurring you to do more. Jimin in his fucked out glory is a sight to watch, his gold link earrings swaying as he tosses his head back, his plump lips getting swollen from him biting them to hold his moans in.

You want to see more of it. 

When Jimin’s not closing his eyes from the pleasure, they never leave yours as he stares right into them. He surprises you when he gets up from leaning on the vanity, his hand moving from the top of your head down to the back of your neck to pull you closer to him. This made him push deeper into your mouth so you loosen your jaw, the new angle allowing more of his length in your mouth. As soon as his tip reaches the back of your throat, you’re unable to stop releasing gurgling moans when it nudges further.

“can’t..believe..you’re.. choking on my cock right now..”

Jimin rasps needily as he rolls his hips slowly, deeper with each thrust. The vibrations from your moans are not helping him in holding his orgasm longer. He’s been trying hard because he wants to prolong this, relish this view of you on your knees and your mouth on him because who knows if this will ever happen again. He’s losing himself, grinding on your face while his hand starts massaging your nape in time with his thrusts.

Now you’re confused because you for sure thought that he’ll start fucking your throat roughly the moment you allowed him but he’s not. You take a deep breath through your nose as you come up, readying your throat in case he’ll change his mind later when he’s close to cumming. But the way he’s touching your nape is making you relax, distracting you from your main reason for helping him in the first place.

He’s close already, his cock's been throbbing before you started bobbing your head earlier. His pace also changes a bit faster but is still slow and you’re confused as to why he’s been holding back. His breathing turns erratic and his lower abs are flexing. You know it so before he does so dig your nails into both of his meaty thighs before one of your hands leaves and pushes away his hold on your head. 

You take him deeper until your lips reach the skin of his crotch, immediately pushing back when he grabs your head again, releasing his cock from your mouth which causes Jimin to whimper in frustration.

“that's for making me wipe other girl's cum on your pants” you glare at him, voice hoarse from taking him that deep in your throat. Standing up from kneeling was making your legs wonky, feeling numb from your previous position but your mind’s not on it with your prior annoyance resurfacing because of his attempt to pacify you.

Jimin, however, begins laughing.

Your brows rise from his reaction, totally not expecting this because you were really sure that you already got him under you.

“so you’re jealous after all,”

“i’m not, i wouldn’t help you if i were” you counter, avoiding his eyes as you pull his jacket back on him, it was slipping on one side already, showing his muscular arms and the tattoo on his ribs. Your fingers have minds of their own when you start tracing each of the letters, causing Jimin to shiver at your touches but the devilish smile remains on his handsome face.

“but you’re doing it to prove something, right?”

You don’t know how to answer him and you don’t want to tell him the truth because it’ll just feed his already massive ego. Instead, you grab his swollen dick, hot and heavy in your hands and begin stroking him roughly. The slick from the lube, his precum and your saliva made it easier for your plan. There’s no way you’ll let him, he’ll never be able to make you admit it.

The smile disappears from his lips as his whole body shakes with a cry, not expecting your punishing pace on him. You want to look at him, to watch his smug face morph back into a pliant one.

But you can’t.

Jimin couldn't cum earlier while fucking another girl because all he can think about is you and now you’re doing what exactly he’s been imagining for months, years. You’re still not looking at him, your brows scrunching in focus on jerking him off. He can’t stop himself from bucking into your hands when your thumb starts flicking his mushroom tip, nudging his frenulum with your index finger before squeezing his shaft each time you do it.

You’re honestly amazed at how Jimin manages to hold off his climax this long but it shouldn’t surprise you when he has such incredible control of his body. It’s when your other hand reaches out to pull his necklace again to pull him towards you, that he finally gives in. It never crossed your mind that modifying this necklace by combining it with his gold link could serve as an advantage for you when playing with him.

Jimin’s hand leaves the table to muffle his mouth, eyes somewhat begging you to let him cum. You smile and he lets himself go through a series of incoherent cries, still covering his mouth like you ordered him to. And despite knowing how loud he can be, you quickly move to remove his hands to finally hear the delicious moans that he’s been obediently keeping. 

He continues to rock his hips despite the overstimulation, trying to catch your eyes and when you do look up, he’s back to purposely biting his lips as he gapes at you with his dark brown eyes.

He’s grinning while still biting his lips as he shoots more of his cum into your hands, it’s spilling all over but most of it landed on your black sheer top, especially on the sleeves.

“Jimin what the fuck! you came so much..” your enamoured eyes are focusing on his slit that’s still releasing loads of his sticky cum around your fingers.

“yeah, been holding them back” for you, he wants to add but he just chuckles, breathlessly and all giddy while eyeing you. It could be high from his mind-blowing orgasm but it’s more with how he basically just covered you with his cum.

You look cute when you’re annoyed, grumbling because of the stains on your sheer puffy top. Some of them are on your black leather pants too, and this just adds to his amusement as he watches you walking around frantically, looking for something to clean you both up with before his photoshoot finally commences in about a minute or so.

Jimin’s not sorry of course, seeing his cum stains on you is stirring something carnal in him. It's his way of marking you because you're his now, well, kind of. He'll just make sure to properly mark you next time.

e/n: i initially wrote this around the time it came out and during his birthday but wasn’t planning on posting it until later cuz i do have other priority fics but i just have to since i wasn’t able to post him last year 😭

#jimin smut #bts smut #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin #bts jimin #jimin imagine #bts fanfic #park jimin #clubjimin #bts #bts au #bts x you #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #bts fic #bts scenarios #bangtan #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #clubzerooclock #btshoneyhive #thebtswritersclub

[saturnville]

congratulations, mr. president

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x linnea lowtower. content: coriolanus is announced as president of Panem with his wife by his side. warning: none. an: idk this is short and simple. just randomly thought of it. I was gonna add smut but decided against it. tags: @fastlikealambo

Coriolanus knew that the stars were aligned for his future. And, he knew that they one day, would align as a stepping stone to the seat of the presidency. The odds were ever in his favor. Though, life threw him arils of sour pomegranate and his support system was minuscule once his father passed, life had proven that good things come to those who wait. He had waited long enough. It was finally his time.

Election season was brutal, but unlike his peers, Coriolanus could easily admit that he enjoyed it. He was full of charm, class, and intelligence that made everyone fall for him. He became the President of Panem at the tender age of 24. The world was in the palm of his hand.

It was the day of his swearing in. The sun rose early and the smell of freshly brewed coffee filled his hotel suite. He spent the evening alone, per his request, to collect himself before his swearing in. His blue eyes darted to the clock on the wall. He had an hour to prepare himself before he’d be whisked away to the center of the Capitol. He stepped to the bathroom to begin getting ready.

Hot showers were something he still was not used to. For thirteen years, he lived just above the poverty line, and cold showers became a norm. It was better than no water at all, he reasoned. Coriolanus ran his fingers through his short, damp hair as he fumbled around for his toothbrush and toothpaste.

Through the foggy mirror, he caught his reflection. He looked much different than he did during his time at the Academy and at University. He no longer had shaggy, blond curls, but rather a platinum blond and a haircut with short sides and considerable length at the top, that was always strategically brushed back. It made him look older, more mature. More powerful. His shoulders were stronger and more broad, and he oozed confidence with every step he took. A complete 180 change.

Coriolanus flicked off the bathroom light and whistled his way to the main room. Near the window was a rack of clothes. The option he’d chosen hung pressed and wrinkle free against an iron hanger. His fingers danced along the thick fabric. The circular buttons, his fingertips touched. Tigris’ design.

He dropped his towel and proceeded to get dressed. He eyed himself in the mirror as he buttoned his shirt. A small smile graced his lips. Patience was a virtue and it proved to leave him victorious.

A soft knock came from the door. Coriolanus dropped his coat on the bed and went to open it. “Who is—hi.”

“Good morning, Coriolanus.” Right past him walked his wife. His eyes followed her with every step she took. He let go of the door slowly and let it close behind them. “How are you feeling?” She sat elegantly at the foot of the bed. She crossed her leg at the knee, her brown skin a stark contrast against her white dress. Coriolanus released a shaky breath.

To say his wife was stunning was far from an understatement. Their marital union began once they graduated from the Academy. Coriolanus proposed to her the day of graduation with a unique ring—a two diamond band, one silver, and one ruby red. Six years with her by his side through the ups, downs, and in-betweens.

She was a sensual being. Even in her most classy and elegant attire. She picked out her dress for the occasion and she picked it well. She wore a figure-hugging white dress with a slit going up the left thigh. Her dress was sleeveless with feathers along the chest. On her feet were a heel a shade of the deepest crimson. Her makeup was bold, eyes and lips bleeding with crimson. Her locs were curled and curtained her back. His beautiful wife. His First Lady. His Queen of Panem.

“Fine,” he said shortly. He extended his hand and took hers into his. She was careful not to rest her head on his white shirt; she’d hate for his outfit to be tainted with makeup. “Even better now. I’m almost ready. Just need my jacket.” He nodded at his crimson trench coat that rested on the edge of the bed. She broke from his embrace and swiped the coat from his hands.

“Go.” She pointed to the full length mirror on the back of the hotel door. He followed her command with ease. Though shorter than him, the crown of her head could be seen behind his stature as she stood behind him. She took the coat in her hands and gestured for him to slide his arms in the sleeves. One by one.

Her hands smoothed the non-existent wrinkles on the shoulders of the coat. Coriolanus lifted his chin, an unfamiliar sense of power coursing through his veins. On Linnea’s lips played a smile of approval. “Well, Mr. Snow, it’s about that time, yeah?” Right on cue, a knock on the door. It was time.

Coriolanus met her eyes through the mirror and nodded. “It’s that time.”

“It is with great pride that we welcome your new president of Panem,” Lucretius Lucky Flickerman said lowly. His dark eyes scanned over the crowd who itched with anticipation for their new leader to enter. “Coriolanus Snow!”

A pair of titanium doors opened. The logo of the Capitol split in two and slowly, Coriolanus and Linnea came into view. Capitol citizens roared with excitement. Coriolanus glanced at Linnea, who was already looking at him with a smile on her lips.

They were guided toward two chairs in the center of the suite. It was an overwhelming sight to see. Tens of hundreds of thousands people, proud and ecstatic for the arrival of the man who was determined to make Panem the greatest it could ever be. They were here for him, for Coriolanus Snow. The man who fought and clawed his way to the top. The man who went from something, to nothing, to everything in a short amount of time. Who could stop him? Coriolanus squeezed her hand tightly.

“Please, everyone, give it up for President Coriolanus Snow, and his First Lady, Linnea Snow!” A roar of cheers erupted. Dreams had become a reality.

Linnea leaned up and brought her lips to his ear, “Congratulations, Mr. President.” The words rolled off her tongue smoother than molasses. And the look in her eye was killer. Was she trying to make him weak in the knees in front of everyone? Putty in her hands, he was. Desire glazed over her brown eyes. She would pay for it later.

Coriolanus’ arm draped around her waist and his hand ghosted over the swell of her bottom. He brought his lips to her ear. “Save the congratulations for later, sweetheart. We’ll celebrate the right way, my beautiful First Lady…”

She smiled softly. “I love you.”

Not caring about the crowd ahead of them, his lips ghosted over hers. “Mhm, I love you, too.”

#saturnville #written by saturnville #original content #original writing #black!reader #black reader #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus snow x you #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow x black reader #coriolanus snow x black!reader #young!coriolanus #young!coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x sejanus #tbosbas #president snow

[sc0tters]

Just Say Yes | Jack Hughes

summary: Jack has finally prepared for the big day, he’s going to propose to you.

song: When You’re Ready - Shawn Mendes

request: yes/no

warnings: none.

word count: 2.55k

authors note: finding the picture of Jack was so hard because none of them screamed boyfriend… I’ve finally written this request that I was meant to write, so I hope the wait was worth it. If you want to check out the rest of the celly playlist you can do so here!

Jack waited for this day for years.

When he was five he first met you as your family purchased the lake house next to the Hughes’ it was a moment that is still engraved in his mind. You were in some pink dress that your mom had dressed you in and the first thing he literally said to you was that you were really pretty.

Naturally after that moment Ellen and your mom waited for the day that you two got together, because it wasn’t a matter of if but rather when.

At fifteen your friendship with the boy had grown even larger, your family had moved to Canada and that meant you were down the road from Jack every day rather than only during the summer.

It was no surprise that within six months of you living there Jack finally mustered up the courage to ask you out. You had said yes and your relationship was pure bliss for the three years that you had it for.

Jack was the perfect boyfriend, he was your date to prom and you two even got to graduate together.

But when you got your acceptance letter from Harvard you knew what you had to do. Jack hadn’t even been drafted yet but with no desire to go to university it meant that he could have been anywhere in North America soon.

That might have been a cop out answer but in fear of holding the boy who was predicted to go first in the draft you decided to break up with him.

Sure it was tough, you both cried but as you walked out of his room both of you knew it was for the best “always thought you’d marry her.” Jim blurted out one day as he sat with his son on the porch of the lake house.

Jim seriously saw you as the daughter he never had so this wasn’t just a break up that was felt by you and Jack it was felt by both of your families.

Luke didn’t know where his uno buddy went and he also didn’t seem to comprehend how you breaking up with Jack meant that nobody else in the family could see you.

Of course Ellen kept in contact with you, making sure that she reached out on your big milestone days that your mom posted on Facebook, moving into your dorm, making the honours list. Ellen was there to congratulate you through it all.

Watching Jack having that rough rookie season broke your heart, it was tough to avoid the mention of him especially as you had befriended the boys on the Harvard hockey team.

There were many moments when you would open his contact details to send him a whole long message wanting to reach out, most times you’d even type out what you wanted to say but each time you’d stop yourself from sending it.

To you there was fear that ran through your body each time you stopped yourself, what if Jack didn’t want to hear from you? What if he had changed his number? What if he had found someone new?

Jack was the big and bright first pick rookie so regardless of what he was doing on the ice, it wasn’t crazy to assume that some pretty girls would be knocking on the door of his dms.

That was why you were so surprised when you came out of class one day to see one of his teammates sat in the coffee shop on campus.

Nico recognised you from the pictures on Jacks phone and that caused him to let out a cheer as he ushered you over to him.

You didn’t want to be rude and that’s why you listened as you sat in the seat in front of him “Jack has been a wreck,” he announced not bothering to do any small talk.

The team had been trying to figure out how to help their rookie teammate because he was completely shutting himself in this bubble. The Swiss man remembered you from a flashback picture that the Devils posted of their rookie so when he asked who you were it gave the older boys on the team the genius idea that involved bringing you back to him “I’ve got class in an hour.” You announced with a sigh, sure you wanted to see Jack but your studies came first.

That didn’t deter Nico though “can you come to the game this Saturday?” He asked as he dug his hand into his bag to pull something out of it “I don’t know Nico,” you were scared that the boy would hate you for breaking up with him.

You two hadn’t spoken to each other since you left his room over six months ago now “just think about it.” The boy pleaded as he left a devils jersey and an all access pass on the table “I know he misses you,” he added as he patted your shoulder before he left you with that decisions hanging over your head.

Even as you walked into the prudential centre you didn’t know if you were doing the right thing, you wanted to turn around and leave but with Nicos words replaying in your head you knew you had to stay. It continued to replay until you got downstairs “we have someone we want you to see,” Miles smiled as he locked eyes with you.

Jack was entirely clueless about what was going on as he furrowed his eyebrows “do I have to?” He groaned as after another poor performance he didn’t want to see anyone.

Nico laughed “I think you’ll want to,” he patted the boys back as he motioned for you to come over “hi Jack,” you awkwardly spoke as the boy looked at you.

The forward swore he was dreaming “y/n?” Before you could let the tears well in your eyes Jack already took three large steps to get over to you as he pulled you into a hug.

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around him “what are you doing here?” He asked as he still couldn’t believe that you were truly there.

It took you two a whole year of trying to reset your friendship to what it was before you dated for you to now ask Jack out.

Jack didn’t even let you finish your sentence before he told you to “shut up and kiss me.”

This time your relationship was built on a much more mature scale showing the growth that you each had when you were apart from each other. Cracks were now obvious in your relationship as there were arguments about the things you didn’t agree on but neither one of you cared about them for long because you two always found a way to work through them.

Now it was clear that the love you two had for each other wasn’t a puppy kind of love but rather the real kind that requires work to be perfect.

The moment you graduated Jack had you move into his apartment, most weeks you were already there so you moving there full time wasn’t going to become a massive shock to your systems.

But little did you know that by the time July came around Jack was a nervous wreck. In May he went ring shopping with Ellen, despite the fact that you were both young Jack didn’t want to be with anyone else.

Nobody was made him feel the way you did and the same thing went for how you felt about him.

Also the idea of being engaged for a while was also a massive possibility too.

The only thing holding him back was the fact that he worried you might not be settled into New Jersey yet.

Ellen though saw how happy you when she came to attend your graduation amongst the rest of her family and that caused her to sit her son down and say “just propose when you’re ready, she’s the happiest I’ve seen her in years!”

And that is how it happened, you had dragged Jack on a sunrise hike whilst you were in Michigan.

When you were looking in awe at the beautiful site of the orange and pinks that graced the skies Jack was too busy focusing on you as he tried to not drop the ring box “baby?” You asked as the boy hadn’t spoken in a while.

You turned around with your eyebrows furrowed but you quickly gasped as you realised what was going on “really?” Shock went through your system.

Jack was always the man you thought you’d marry and you always swore that Jack would be so nervous that you’d know exactly when he was planning on proposing.

But here you were totally oblivious “what do you say to putting up with me for the rest of our lives?” Jack joked as the Devils boys always said that they were responsible for this relationships second run.

Yet the boys also believed that they owed you an apology for bringing you back to your irritating boy.

You got down on one knee too as you were now crying “I’ll say a thousand times over.” You confessed as you pecked his lips.

Maybe Nico did deserve that matchmaker gift basket after all.

#jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes x you #jack hughes #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl oneshot #hockey imagines #ambers 150 celly #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

[daisynik7]

Give You Blue

Epilogue

You are my universe, my everything, my sunset. You still give me butterflies, my lullaby. You are everything I wanted.

Pairing: Eren x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

cw: switching POVs (reader is second-person, Eren is third), fluff, established relationship, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), cunnilingus, face-riding, spit play, pet names (sweetie, honey, sweetheart, princess, good girl, baby) 

Previous Chapter

Give You Blue Masterlist | ao3

Author’s Note: Just an excuse to write a little bonus chapter about these two! Fluffy, adorable, and happily in love! Also a little smut added to the mix. Thank you everyone for reading this story all the way through the end! Love and appreciate every single one of you. What a journey this has been. Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated, as always.

It’s 11:45 PM, New Year’s Eve, fifteen minutes before the start of the new year. You leave your family gathered downstairs to head up to your room, shutting the door quietly, tapping your boyfriend’s contact on your phone screen. 

Eren answers after two rings. “Hey, cutie. Hold on.” There’s shuffling, like you’ve been temporarily put in his pocket. In the background, you hear him announce, “Mom, I’m pretty tired. Going to bed now.”

“But you’ll miss midnight!” she responds. 

You hear his dad chime in. “Let him, honey. He can make his own decisions.” There’s a hint of bitterness in his tone that even you can detect on the other end of the line.

Your boyfriend lets out a nervous chuckle, muttering a quick, “Happy New Year.” There’s more rustling, then sounds of steps going up stairs, ending with a gentle thud of a door closing. “Sweetie? You still there?” he asks, finally alone. 

“Yeah, I’m here.” You smile into the phone, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he greets back. “It’s so nice hearing your voice.”

“I feel the same way,” you reply, falling back into the mattress, gazing up at the ceiling. “How was tonight?”

“Oh, you know, the usual: My mom cooked too much food for three people and my dad has been sneaking little jabs at me. Nothing new.”

Eren officially changed his major before the end of the semester from pre-med to education, a huge weight lifted off his shoulders while a tinier one replaces it, aka his father’s overall disapproval. Dr. Jaeger stood by his word, threatening that he would no longer support his son financially once he made the switch, to which Eren has been preparing for. He has two new on-campus jobs lined up for him at the start of the new semester, along with the weekly music session at the elementary school Erwin Smith’s dad works at. The first week of winter break, he was ready to apply for a few loans to help him throughout the rest of his term. Then, to his shock, his father approached him, informing him that he will actually continue to pay for his education, on the condition that he graduates with outstanding grades and a job guaranteed. Eren’s sure it was his mother who was behind the change in heart, to which he’ll forever be grateful for. Unfortunately, this hasn’t stopped his father from making snide remarks here and there. 

You sympathize with him, saying, “I’m sorry.”

His charming grin is audible through the phone. “Don’t be. I can handle it.”

“Where’s Mikasa? And your brother?” 

“Mikasa left this morning to spend the rest of break with Jean. And Zeke had to head back to prepare for some conference, so he’s actually in your neck of the woods right now,” he answers, referring to your hometown and current location: Marley. He adds, “To be honest, I wish I was there too.”

You smile, kicking your feet, belly fluttering with butterflies. “We’ll see each other in a week. Do you really miss me that much?” you tease.

“More than anything.” 

Swallowing hard, sentimental words dancing on the tip of your tongue (I miss you too, I think about you every day), you remain silent, too shy to get them out. Instead, he continues speaking, changing the subject to talk about what his mom prepared and the new year traditions behind them. She decided to do a spread of German foods this time around: pork sausages for good luck, sauerkraut for more money, and lentil soup for even better luck. He tells you about his childhood, popping open apple cider to tip into everyone’s glasses, watching the fireworks light up the sky from a distance, igniting sparklers outside with Armin, Mikasa, and the other neighborhood kids on the street. You listen to him intently, imagining a young Eren with that same signature bright smile he dons as an adult; warm, genuine, full of light. It’s no wonder you fell for him, especially in a time of your life where you were shrouded in darkness from the fallout of your heartbreak, unsure when you’d ever see sunshine again. 

I love you. Every time you think it, you double back, convincing yourself that it’s too soon, too much in such a short amount of time. After all, it’s only been a little over a month since the two of you officially became a couple. Wouldn’t it be crazy to express such a weighted confession? 

When there’s a small pause in the conversation, finished with his stories, you start, “Eren,” ready to admit it. 

“Oh, it’s already 11:59!” he interjects, excited. “How many seconds do we have left?”

You turn on the TV, switching to a local channel that’s displaying a countdown. “Ah, ten seconds!” You watch the clock, listening to Eren announce the numbers in your ear. At three, you join in. “3…2…1…Happy New Year!”

Downstairs, you hear your family cheering, clinking flutes of champagne or cider with each other. The sound of fireworks bursting can be heard faintly through your window. On the opposite end of the line, Eren says, “Happy New Year, beautiful. Wish I could kiss you right now.”

You smile. “Me too.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to join your family downstairs?” he asks.

“Positive. I want to start the new year with you.”

He laughs softly. “Me too. And you know what? For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about the new year. I used to dread going back, always so anxious about my new classes. All the tests and projects I had to work on during the semester. Even interacting with my classmates because it was always so competitive. Now, my new curriculum sounds interesting, and I feel good about my cohort. I just know this year is going to be a great one.” He pauses, choosing his next statement carefully. “I’m also looking forward to us. We’ve got all the time in the world now. I can’t wait to create so many more memories with you.”

Your heart beats faster, taken back by his sincerity. You decide not to confess to him tonight, not because you’re unsure, but because you mean it more. Those three words don’t seem enough to express that to him. Not yet at least. There’s no pressure to rush into anything; as he said, you’ve got all the time in the world. 

~~~

Spring semester of sophomore year starts off smoothly, especially for Eren. This is the only time during his collegiate career that he’s felt at ease. While he’s equally as diligent as he was before, he enjoys the material he’s learning, rather than stressing each passing day like he once was. Having his supportive girlfriend by his side is also a huge help, maybe the biggest of them all. He’s never been happier. 

Technically, it’s forbidden for RAs to date their residents. However, that hasn’t stopped them, often sneaking into his room to do what couples usually do. Quite frankly, neither are worried about hiding it, considering the rest of the dormitory residents are well aware of the relationship and unfazed by it. Still, whenever one of Eren’s managers visits, he’s extra diligent in keeping that information private. 

As for her situation with her ex, she has completely moved on, and seemingly so has he. Occasionally, she’ll spot Reiner walking around campus with his fraternity brothers or classmates. She and him will exchange a cordial head nod, polite wave, sometimes a reminiscent smile, but nothing more. Acknowledging each other’s presence, understanding there’s no more left to their story. A fleeting moment of reminiscence about their past life together, gone as soon as it appears. During these times, Reiner will flash a serious glance at Eren. It’s not threatening or malicious, more like a cautionary warning. He can’t blame the guy; after all, Reiner was her first love, and vice versa. Despite their relationship coming to an end, deep down, they must care for each other to some degree. Even as the new boyfriend, he can understand that, so he remains unbothered by it.

Despite his father agreeing to continue the payment of his tuition, Eren decided to work at least one part-time job this semester to supplement date nights or gifts for his girlfriend. His job is being the front desk of the school library, helping students locate resources or manage the study rooms. For the most part, his schedule is manageable. However, when the week of midterms arrives, it gets a little more complicated. The facility remains open twenty-four hours on weeks like this so students have a place to study at all times. Driven by the increased pay during the night shifts, Eren offers to work them without thinking how it’ll affect his daily routine. It’s only after the first night that he realizes he won’t be able to see his girlfriend until the week is over. With her being just as busy with group projects, there isn’t a time they have free to see each other. So, they settle for voicemails and text message spanning the next few days, which in Eren’s mind, pass by like weeks, maybe months. He misses her. 

Finally, Friday comes, and exams are over. After his last class, he heads straight for his room, knocking out for a long nap. He wakes up to gentle tapping on his door. When he answers, he’s thrilled to see her, smiling brightly at him. “Hi.”

Before he can respond with words, he launches forward, wrapping her in his arms. “I’m so happy to see you.” He buries his nose to the top of her head, inhaling that familiar scent he’s been yearning for all week long. “I missed you so much.”

She laughs, music to his ears, warming his entire soul. “I missed you too.”

He pulls her into his room, pushing the door closed by pressing her up against it with a kiss. They stay like this for a while, his hands caressing her cheeks, her fingers hooked to the waistband of his sweats, tugging ever-so-slightly towards her. They kiss each other, languid, soft, and effortless, like this is exactly where they’re meant to be. He’s been deprived too long without her. He won’t waste another second. 

She pulls away, leaning back to look at him. “Are you hungry? Do you want to get dinner now?”

He smirks, mouth grazing her ear. “I am hungry, but for something else.” One hand trails down to her hip, squeezing. “I’ve been starving for you all week. Dessert first, then dinner.”

She giggles, nipping at his lower lip. “Are we calling this dessert now?” 

“Yup,” he grins. “Because it’s going to be so, so sweet.”

~~~

Within minutes, your clothes are tossed to the floor, stripped and bare in his bed, sheets twisted beneath as your lips smack noisily with each other. “Can I taste you now? Please?” Eren asks.  

You nod, rolling onto your back, spreading your legs for him. He shakes his head, hoisting you over him. “Not like that. I want you to ride my face.”

“What?” you stammer, surprised at the suggestion. 

“Ride my face,” he repeats. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Absolutely sure. I want it so bad, baby.” The way his voice sounds needy and desperate has your pussy throbbing. Carefully, you straddle him, lowering yourself slowly. His hands slide around your thighs, gripping you. “Come on. Smother me, sweetie.” More aggressively, he shoves you to his face, tongue already out and licking at your clit. You grasp onto the headboard, rolling your hips onto his mouth, head thrown back in pleasure. His moans are muffled, vibrating into your skin with his lips puckered to your bud, sucking. 

Soon, you’re coming for him, slick gushing from your slit. He drinks it up, slurping it noisily, his hips thrusting into nothing, cock stiff against his abdomen. “Fuck, you taste so good. Think you can ride my cock now, princess?”

Still reeling from your orgasm, you whimper in response, readjusting yourself so you’re on his lap, sliding your slippery cunt along his erect shaft. He rests his head on his palms, elbows splayed, watching you. “That’s it, baby. Get it nice and creamy with your cum. You’re doing such a good job.”

The praise spurs you on, rubbing yourself on his dick until you’re ready for him, tingling all over. You sink down, cock sliding in smoothly until he bottoms out, your pussy entirely full of him. He plants his feet to the bed, thrusting into you gradually. “I know you already came, but can you give me one more, sweetie? Just one more?” It sounds like he wants to add a pretty please to the end of it, nodding his head affirmatively, looking up at you with innocent eyes while he fucks you relentlessly.

You let out a pathetic whimper, nodding along with him, totally captivated. He smiles so sweetly, the tinge of wickedness in his eyes almost goes unnoticed. Almost. Your boyfriend can be a real menace sometimes, acting tender as he man-handles you like his own personal sex doll. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your flesh. He’s breathing heavily, exerting all the energy left in his being to give you the best fuck of your life. You bounce on his lap until your legs are spent, yielding all control to him. One hand travels up your spine and lands at the nape of your neck, caressing you, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss. His tongue swirls into your mouth, pushing his thick saliva past your lips. He halts his brutal thrusts, hard cock all the way inside you, pussy throbbing around it. 

“Open up, sweetie,” he says. You’re high off his cock, too dumbed out to think rationally, so you obey his command, sticking your tongue out. He bites his lip, studying you like you’re the prized treasure he’s about to collect. He tips your head towards him, leaning in close to spit a wad of his saliva in your mouth. “Swallow.” You do, guzzling every drop of it down your throat. 

“That’s it. Such a good girl,” he coos.

“Give me more,” you groan, sticking your tongue out. 

He grins, smooching your nose. “You like it, don’t you sweetheart?” 

You nod, eyes half-lidded as he does it again, his hot, frothy spit coating the inside of your mouth. Arms coiled around his neck, you clutch onto him tightly, electricity rippling from your core throughout the rest of your body as he pumps his cock in and out of you. 

“Eren,” you whimper, nuzzling his ear. Maybe it’s the heat of the moment, or the fact that you haven’t seen him all week and you missed him so much, you’re bursting at the seams. In a breathy huff, it slips out. “I love you.”

Suddenly, he pauses, stunned by your confession. He holds your face between his palms, staring at you with a serious expression. “What did you say?”

“I love you.”

His lips part, dumbfounded and in a daze, with his dick still hard inside you. It’s not what you imagined it would be like, but in this moment, you wanted to get it off your chest. It’s been simmering within you since New Year’s, and while it’s not the most luxurious of settings, it’s intimate and special, especially with the way his eyes twinkle. “You love me?” he reiterates, clearly in disbelief.

With more confidence, you reply, “I love you, Eren.” You nuzzle your nose to his, smiling. “I love you.”

He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I love you, too. I’ve loved you this whole time.”

The two of you giggle into each other’s mouths as you kiss, Eren whispering “I love you” in between. You rock your hips onto his lap, making love slowly until eventually, you come together, skin hot and dewy with sweat, hearts thumping loudly against your chests. He cradles you in his arms, peppering more soft smooches around your face, intertwining his legs with yours. A perfect fit. 

@batafuraikisu @bloompompom @monirei @filunara @katestrophes @ichinosejager13 @hoperenae @zellskz @e-ayyy @liliorsstuff-blog @maliakealoha @holdmeclosebutdontloveme @chrollohearttags @sailorputa @squickkk @dnyllmh @hellomeow12 @s-cream-ing @potofstewie @conniesbbymama @erzascarlett28 @lem-hhn @roronoazorosbxtchh @ichigostrawberry15 @rhaelrence @lilshades @bigmoodyjoody @icansmellsouls @aangsupremacy @ashsauroras @bakuhoes-bxtch @si-kamo @jmtherula @imaddicted-b @monkemanjeager @neesiewrote @large-juice @chiinni @belovedackerman

#eren x you #eren x reader #eren x y/n #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren jaeger smut #eren x f!reader #eren x fem!reader #eren jaeger x you #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager #eren aot #eren jaeger x female reader #aot smut #attack on titan smut #give you blue series #eren fluff #aot fluff

[giorno-plays-piano]

Binary Star

Part II

Pairing: academic rival!Satoru Gojo x reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, power play, hurt/comfort, no curse au, this series will get darker as the story progresses.

Words: 1.2k

Summary: It has to pay off, he thinks as he waits for the headmaster to finally announce the valedictorian, knowing she is there too, shifting from one foot to the other impatiently. What face is she going to make when his name will be called? Is she going to cry? To yell at him and publicly demand a re-evaluation? Or will she, perhaps, finally admit he’s done a fantastic job and won fair and square?

Part I

P.S. Academic rival -> CEO!Gojo

_____________

When he spots her name in the stack of papers his HR left on her desk, Satoru gets a brain freeze for a second. Couldn't be the girl he had once studied together with, no. It's been what, more than ten years since he had last seen her? It must be some other woman wearing the same name.

But he can't just leave the paper be, immediately taking it in his hands while the manager makes a confused face: Satoru only looks at the candidates' profiles when they are aiming for the high management positions in his company, nothing less. This woman, however, applied for the middle-level position, only recently becoming a senior at her old job. Why is the CEO looking at her CV so intently?

All Gojo sees is the name of the school they both graduated what feels like a hundred years ago, and he knows it's her. It's the girl who was his one and only rival, someone he had finally considered his equal when they both were fighting for the position of a valedictorian. It's her. He can finally understand what has happened.

Not that he wasn't searching for answers right after graduation. Knowing Shoko sometimes hung out with her, he was showering the girl with questions until she groaned something about the family of his classmate moving and that it's likely he would never see her again. She didn't tell why. Said she had no idea.

It's true, Satoru sees now: his old rival did move god knows where, nearly half across the country to a place he didn't even know existed. Some tiny city, he thinks as he googles the college she attended only to realize that it is, in fact, a community college. Community college? For someone as talented as her? Was she out of her goddamn mind? Even if she, for some unfathomable reason, didn't want to go to Harvard like him, despite her scholarchip, she could have chosen any other decent place with her marks. How could she do this to herself?

He continues reading the resume, the memories of her annoyingly pretty face fresh in his mind as if it all happened just yesterday. Internships at some tiny companies, assistant positions, and other entry-level jobs she should have never taken in places he has never heard of either... Until she finally moved here about two years ago and started slowly climbing the career ladder. Unfortunately, her CV leaves Gojo with more questions than answers he expected.

"I want you to interview her," he finally says to his HR manager, who's been shifting in her seat impatiently ever since he had taken the printed papers from her desk. "And if she says yes, I want to know when she'll come."

He isn't sure why he's doing it. It's been far too long to be holding any grudges, and, honestly speaking, he isn't angry at his old school rival. Curious, perhaps? This must be it. He just wants a closure of sorts. He wants to know why she has abandoned everything she believed in, even if it's selfish of him to be prying into her past. Clearly, something had happened. Something horrible.

Did she get pregnant, maybe? Gave birth? Remembering her father, he wouldn't be surprised if it was the reason they had to move. And yet, she didn't seem the type to do something like that... Not when he had never seen her speaking to boys outside of school, and even then, she would only be talking to them about lessons and future college or university prospects.

He has to have some patience, Satoru thinks. Surely, she'll accept the interview and come in person.

And she does, walking in the building - Gojo watches her from above, peering down from his fancy cabinet with enormous windows - just two days later. She looks somewhat different - not that he didn’t expect her to change after all these years - but there's the same air about her, he can feel it in his bones. It makes him strangely nostalgic, and he starts to itch to go down and talk to her the second she waltzes into the office of his HR. He needs to know why she left. Her secrets are making him restless like a child.

He needs to see her face when she realizes he's both the owner and the CEO of the company she wants to work for.

After giving her about 10 minutes, Gojo runs down the building as if he's a boy chasing an ice cream truck. He needs to see her. The itch that has been dormant for almost ten years is almost unbearable now, and he has no time to waste before she disappears again from his life.

"Yuki, I have a question..." he starts as if he has no idea she's conducting an interview at this very moment, making a surprised face and almost shouting the name of the woman he once called his equal. "Woah, I can't believe it! Is it really you?!"

Satoru knows it's not right to be that happy about her baffled - if not fearful - expression, but he can't help himself. Here she is, the girl who could never shut up in class whenever a teacher asked them a question, sitting in the office he built with the money he earned, not borrowed from his father. He is where she has always wanted to be, Gojo is sure. Geto would probably smack him for being a smug bastard in front of a woman who surely has nothing against him, but Satoru feels ecstatic.

Until he sees she is not only scared: she is terrified. Why? Is it because her old rival ended up doing much better than her? She must be feeling upset and jealous, but she shouldn't be horrified. There's nothing to be scared of. Is she worried she won't get this job because she thinks Satoru is a manchild who can't forgive her for their silly school competition?

Or is she scared of him?

He doesn't like the thought.

"I'm so happy to see you!" He adds with a too-wide smile. "What are you doing here?"

It's concerning how she bites down on her lower lip, nearly ripping the thin skin covered in lipstick.

Thankfully, Yuki finally acknowledges his presence with an awkward smile, "Mr. Gojo, good morning. I apologize, but we are in the middle of a job interview. If it's alright with you, I'll come see you a little later."

The woman in front of him still doesn't utter a single word, and he feels like she'll escape him again if he lets her. With a dramatic sigh and a smile so wide it's a wonder how his face hasn't cracked yet, he announces to her, "Oh dear, I'm so sorry for interrupting! But you'll wait for me after your interview, alright? We can go grab a coffee together! It's not like it's against our company policy, right, Yuki?"

If eyes could kill, he would definitely be dead by now because his HR is ready to stab him with a fork she once stole from a cafeteria and is now keeping in one of her drawers. Satoru isn't that suicidal yet, so he quietly leaves her office before his old rival can utter a single word.

Now, this is about to get interesting.

_________

Tags: @minshookie29 @mononlogue @whore-for-hawks @theoriginaluzisimp @khatte @brooke-gvf @nimuelis

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #yandere #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader

[nczennie]

why won't you love me.

Pairing: Reader x Jaehyun AU: Exes! but it's complicated Genre: Angst, Smut (18+ only) Preview: You shake your head at him before speaking, voice coming out as a quiet whisper, eyes watering as you look at him, "Why won't you love me?"Jaehyun abruptly stands from his seat, slamming his hand against the counter which makes you jump, "Don't!", he's nearly yelling, "Just stop, why would you-how dare you even say that to me!" Words: 5.9k *Warnings under cut

Warnings: Toxic relationship, reader is very lonely and uses sex to cope, mentions of food and eating, mentions of having children, cussing, Smut scenes (oral m. receiving, throat fucking, protected penetrative sex, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, talk of breeding).

You let out a shaky breath as you set down your glass of wine, staring at the white envelope in front of you. To be fair, you knew it was coming, but that didn't make opening it any easier for you. That's why you were currently on your second glass still working up the courage to look at it's contents. Finally chugging down the last sip, you set your determined gaze on the paper, taking it in your hands. You tear it open carefully, as to not rip it too badly, before taking the small card out. Save the Date it reads in large gold font. You swallow thickly as you take in the appearance of the card, the wedding date set for 9 months from now, and the beautiful picture of Irene, one of your best friends, smiling brightly next to her financé.

Running your hands over the card, you recall getting all the others like this. Joy's, just after college, followed by Wendy and Seulgi some years later. You never really worried until last year when even the youngest of your friend group, Yeri, announced her wedding. And now Irene, the Irene who spent years swearing marriage wasn't for her and wouldn't be in her future, yet you held her announcement in your hands.

You don't even notice you're crying until the tears drop onto the table. Groaning in frustration at your emotions, you move to the kitchen to grab a box of tissues and another bottle of wine. It's hard, to feel like your life is passing by and you're stuck in one place, especially when everyone around you is moving past you as well. You never thought you were one to care about getting married, brushing off the concept of it especially when you first graduated college. But now you find yourself here all these years later, sitting alone in your apartment, no partner, no pet, no nothing whereas your friends were all getting married, buying houses, even Joy caring for her children. You sniffle as your open you second bottle of wine, pouring another glass and trying to think of all of the events of your life that may have led to this moment.

Jaehyun groans as he reaches to turn off his alarm clock. He's been working at his office job for years yet waking up this early is something he has never gotten used to. He takes his time getting out of the warmth of his sheets and makes his way to the bathroom, stopping along the way to grab his phone he left charging on his dresser. Picking it up, he feels confused and a bit worried when he finds there was three missed calls from you at 2:00am. He swallows as he moves to his messages, noticing you texted him merely an hour ago.

I miss you. It reads and he stares at it wondering if you had woken up early or if you stayed awake all night apparently calling and missing him. He lets out a groan, running a hand over his face before moving to reply to you. Dinner tonight at mine? 7pm. He clicks send before throwing his phone on the bed, moving to shower where he can question and regret his decision to invite you over once again.

You and Jaehyun met when you were early on in university. One of the many parties hosted by your mutual friends, you notice him standing alone in the kitchen and you're so taken aback by how handsome he was that you make your way over to him without much thought. Only a couple of months later and he was your boyfriend. To this day he was the best boyfriend you've ever had, the most caring, attentive, supportive man you've ever met. The two of you dated for 4 years, by far your longest relationship. It dwindled apart in the end because of the reality of life after college. Entering the real world gave insight to the differences in views you both had. Jaehyun wanted to take it slow, travel before eventually settling down but you were opposite. You grew up different than Jaehyun, where his parents both had successful jobs, your single mom worked two jobs just to feed you both. Whereas Jaehyun wanted to spend money traveling and relaxing straight after graduation, you knew that reality couldn't include you. You had loans and bills to pay that would require you to start working right away.

This reality is what led to the downfall of your relationship. There was no fighting or arguing, just the sad realization that the end had come. You accepted it quickly, you loved Jaehyun, truly, but you had come to terms with the fact that he would not be apart of your future.

Except that he was. The thing about having mutual friends is that you can't get rid of each other. Every birthday, celebration, holiday, gettogether, you would see each other. It was slightly awkward at first but once you both got used to the fact you would constantly be in each other's life, it was as if you were friends again. It was only a couple years ago that you both started to sleep with each other again. It was a messy night, at a summer bbq where Joy announced to everyone she was pregnant. Everyone celebrated with loads of drinks, minus the mother-to-be, and you even went a step further to celebrate by going home with your ex boyfriend.

You never mentioned it to anyone, keeping it your secret. Even as sleeping with him becomes more regular. You wouldn't compare your situation to that of a friends with benefits, it wasn't that often and you only saw each other during friends gatherings or the rare event you did go by his house. Even pursuing relationships with others but even when they failed, Jaehyun was always there as if you could rely on him to wait for you just in case.

The thing with Jaehyun is that he is comfortable and familiar. You had loved him so much during your time together that even having him now gives you a glimpse at the past. The past where you were loved, where you weren't so lonely.

"Are those snowdrops?", you smile as you take off your coat, taking in the small potted flowers that rest on the table near the entryway. Jaehyun hums, locking the door behind you before turning to take in the flowers as well, "Yeah, they were a gift for my anniversary at the office". He chuckles a bit before walking further into the apartment, rolling up the sleeves of his collared white shirt, clearly not having changed since coming home from work. You follow him into the kitchen, taking in the two plates of food set and ready on the island. Jaehyun moves to grab a couple of wine glasses, bringing them to the counter to pour a glass for you both. "I hope you don't mind pasta," he says, concentrated on serving. "Not at all, it looks delicious". He nods his head back towards the fridge behind him, "Do you mind grabbing the parmesan?" Moving to the fridge you freeze for a moment when you see Irene's announcement held to the fridge with a magnet. You gulp, opening the door and getting the cheese, "You got Irene's save the date too?"

He looks at you as he moves to sit, "Yeah, crazy right? Who would've thought she would be settling down." You take your seat beside him, humming in agreement. You both make small talk while you enjoy the food, talking about work, asking about each other families, catching up as you had not been alone with him in months. "So," he speaks, leaning back while using a napkin to clean his face. "Getting drunk on a weeknight huh? What's up with that?" You grimace, playing around with the leftover food on your plate, "Yeah, yeah. You don't need to make me feel more pathetic than I already do". He chuckles, "What? I just meant it's unlike you. Did something happen?"

No, you want to say, nothing as happened. Nothing at all, while everyone around you has something going on, you have nothing. "Was just having a rough day," You murmur instead, eyes automatically moving to the announcement on the fridge in front of you. You can see out of the corner of your eyes he turns to look at the paper too, so you make an excuse before he can bring it up, "Excuse me, I'm going to use the restroom". You make your way down the hallway and into the bathroom, shutting the door behind you with a shaky breath. You wash your hands, staring at yourself in the mirror with annoyance, you came here to forget the feeling that overwhelmed you last night, not relive it all over again.

With a deep breath you make your way back in the kitchen, seeing Jaehyun standing over the sink washing his hands after clearing the dishes. You step forward with a purpose, coming up behind him and wrapping your hands around his waist. He jumps a little, but move to turn the water off, drying his hands before turning to face you, leaning back against the counter as you trap him against it. "You alright?" he asks softly and you give him the best smile you could, nodding before reaching up to put your hands around his neck. You play with the hair on the nape of his neck, pulling him closer to you, "Just want you," you mutter. "Are you sure?" he asks, and you nod without a second thought, "Positive".

He studies you for a moment before giving in, leaning forward to capture your lips with his own. His hands finally moving to hold you waist as you deepen the kiss, your tongue working its way into his mouth. You enjoy the feeling of his lips for some time longer before realizing you were still able to think. You didn't want to think, you only wanted to forget. You break your lips from his, moving to press slow lingering kisses against his jaw before moving to his neck. You know Jaehyun like the back of your hand so you move automatically to the spot just below his ear. Your teeth graze the spot lightly before you run your tongue over it, earning a quiet grown from the man. "Don't leave any marks," he mumbles and you have to agree no matter how tempting it was. You both are adults now and having hickies was no longer the same as when you were in college.

You let your lips wander along his neck a little longer before you drop to your knees in front of him, hands coming to undo his dress slacks. "Here?" he asks you, uncertain of getting a blowjob next to the sink. You pause, already taking in the ache of your knees from the hard tile. "Okay, maybe we can move to your bedroom". You both chuckle as he helps you up and walks you to his room. He takes matters into his own hands, removing his pants and underwear before sitting on the edge of the bed, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt as you move to your knees in front of him. You take him into your hand, he was only slightly hard from your kitchen escapades so you take your time running your hand over him to help him grow.

You look up at him as he finishes removing his shirt, tossing it on the bed behind him before he looks down to you. Upon having his attention solely on you, you meet his eyes moving your mouth downwards. Letting your tongue run over the head of his cock, your mouth comes to close over it as you hum around him. Your hand still works to get him as hard as possible and Jaehyun's own hand comes to tangle in your hair, soft sounds leaving his lips as you begin to take him further into the warmth of your mouth. Working steadily, you make yourself comfortable taking in as much of his length as you can without completely choking. It's easier when you hear the words of encouragement he gives you, taking the final push and lodging all of him in your throat as the shaky exhales of your nose hits against his pelvis. After sleeping with Jaehyun for years now, you know this is what he likes. His cock stuffing your mouth for as long as possible, so you did your best even now to appease him. Not long after your eyes begin to water and you close them in an attempt to focus on your breathing and ignore the sputtering of your throat around him.

"Look at me," he says gruffly, hand grasping your hair harshly to get your attention. Your scalp stings but you open your eyes nonetheless, barely seeing Jaehyun through your tears. He moans though, "That's my good girl," before moving your head off of him to finally catch your breath. You take deep breaths while you can, your hand moving once again over him, easier now that it's covered with your spit. Jaehyun uses his grip on your hair to make you face him, hurridley kissing you before running his tongue over yours. "Are you gunna let me fuck your throat?" he whispers against your lips and you whine in reply, nodding your head as best you could with his grip still tight in your hair.

Jaehyun stands from the bed, removing your hand from his cock and replacing it with his own. He jerks it a few times and he repositions you, your hands coming to grasp the back of his thighs to hold yourself steady and to tell him when you've had enough if need be. "There you go," He mutters out from above you as your eagarily take him into your mouth once again. His movements start off slow, getting you used to the intrusion again before he picks up his pace, head of his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

You close your eyes and focus on the feeling. Hearing Jaehyun's moan's above you, you welcome the stinging and lightness of your brain as you love the feeling of him using you. Of being useful for someone.

He finally pulls out, just barely, causing his cock to rest on your cheek as you turn to catch your breath. Jaehyun releases your hair, hand running over your head to sooth you. He kneels to match your height, moving to kiss you again now that your breathing was less erratic. "I want you to fuck me," You say almost breathlessly. He hums against your lips, helping you up so you both can move atop his bed. He lays you back against his pillows, still hungrily kissing you, hands running down your thighs, but you move to grasp them. "I want you now," you state. He pauses looking at your eyes, "Just like this?" He asks, not used to not preparing you beforehand. You nod, giving him a smile of encouragement, "Wanna feel you now," you say moving to kiss him. He enjoys your kisses for another moment before moving to grab a condom from his nightstand.

You watch in silence as he puts it on himself, your hand moving downwards to slightly rub against your slit as you take him in. You're craving the stretch of him, the burn much like before that lingers in your throat and was so good that it made you forget how to think.

"You sure?" He asks once again as he settles over you, left arm settled on the bed beside you as his right hand takes a hold of his cock as he moves it along your folds. "Positive", you say already breathless from anticipation. Jaehyun pushes inside of you, moving as slow as possible but you encourage him to fill you up completely. Your eyes roll back into your head at the feeling of his cock stretching you, your hands coming to grasp onto his shoulders. Jaehyun's breath deepens as he groans, moving forwards to place kisses along your jaw. He stills once he's in you fully, but you shake your head slightly, "Keep going,". His face stays put near your neck but his hips begin to move slowly, drawing a moan out of you.

You let yourself drown in the pleasure of Jaehyun that night. You hold him close to you the whole time, your chests presses together and he fucks you into his bed. Your arms around his back so you can feel him completely, so you can feel him everywhere. Even as you both cum you grip tightly onto him as your body trembles.

When you finally do release him from your arms, he moves to clean you up, pressing kisses into your forehead. Once you can move, you excuse yourself to the bathroom where you clean up even more and try to hide the fact that you're crying. You feel slightly better so you move to join him in his bed once again, tucking yourself under the blankets as you rest on your back. You close your eyes and take a deep breath but you can sense Jaehyun is looking at you. "You okay?" he finally breaks the silence. Perhaps he heard you in the bathroom, or maybe the redness around your eyes gave it away. Or maybe, he felt your desperation as you held him closely to you that night.

You lay silently for awhile before you answer him, "It's so hard to be lonely".

Jaehyun clearly remembers the party that took place early on in his University days. He was having a bad day, having just got a failing grade on a test so he mostly stuck to himself in the kitchen. He was surprised when you approached him, at first not really in the mood to make conversation but you were persistent and eventually he brightened.

He didn't know at the time how much he would come to love you. Only months later he had spent time making a playlist perfect for you before presenting it to you over your favorite meal and asking you to officially be his girlfriend. He still thinks those were the best 4 years of his life. You two were perfect for each other, loving and supportive, always there for one another. Jaehyun loved you with everything he was so when you both finally graduated he wasn't nervous, but excited about what was to come for your relationship.

He knew he has always been a dreamer whereas you were more set thinking about the present reality. That's why you were already applying to jobs before you graduated when he was planning up destinations he wanted to visit with you. Jaehyun realized it was really over for you both when he couldn't convince you to travel with him. Your whole friend group planned 2 weeks going across Europe to celebrate but you had already accepted a job. He tried his hardest to convince you to come along, traveling would be good for you, having just finished with a stressful degree you deserve some time off. But you refused, already stressed about the expenses of being an adult. He couldn't fault you, knowing the reality of money as a new graduate was daunting, but he truly hoped to spend some more time with you before entering the real world himself. It hurt more than anything to let you go. Jaehyun was a dreamer. In the years that you spent together, Jaehyun only dreamt of countless more. He dreamt of a big wedding, a small cozy house, a daughter that looked just like you. These were the things Jaehyun wanted more than anything. So it pained him to realize you might not be apart of his future at all. Except that you were. It hurt to let you go, but having to continuously see you afterwards may have hurt him even more. He knew it would be inevitable since your circles are intertwined, but having to see you when he was still painfully in love with you was harder than he thought it would be.

He still tried though, traveling when he could, working hard at his job, testing the waters with new people. Then came the fateful bbq where he had somehow let you convince him to go home with you. It was easy honestly, he loved you so much there wasn't much he wouldn't do for you. But when he let it slip to a couple of his closest friends that you were casually sleeping together from time to time, they gave him worried looks. They warned him it wasn't the best idea when he clearly loved you but you were no longer on the same page. They told him it would only hurt him in the end. And it does, it does hurt him every time you reach out and he knows he's just some kind of last resort, only when you're feeling extra lonely.

But the thing with you is that you're comfortable and familiar. Though you're both grown, you're still that girl he fell in love with in University. The one he dreamed of marrying and having kids with. Jaehyun is a dreamer and he dreams that there is still a reality where this future will come true. That he will continue to answer your calls until you're his again because he still loves you the same way he did when you were together.

It was a hot Spring day and Irene's backyard was crowded with her friends. Now that the weather was better she and her fiancé are throwing a small party to celebrate their engagement. Jaehyun stood under the porch, seeking shelter from the burning sun, the cold beer bottle in his hand helping to keep him cool. He stares at you across the way, legs dipped in the pool as you sit besides Joy, holding her daughter in your lap.

His heart aches in moments like these, wishing more than anything that you both were married yourselves and you had a daughter of your own to look after. He takes a longer swig of his drink when he notices Johnny come up beside him. He ignores his friend in favor of his small daughter he was holding, cheeks rosy from the heat and large smile on her face as she sees her favorite uncle. "Hi, baby," he coos to her automatically handing Johnny his drink so he can take the baby into his own arms. He hoists her above his head as she giggles, bringing her back down to place a kiss on her red cheek before settling her safely on his hip.

"Whatcha doing over here all on your own?" Johnny asks as he grabs a drink for himself from the ice chest. Jaehyun hums, attention still mostly on the baby, "Just trying to stay cool". Johnny takes a sip from his drink, "That's good, I thought you were pining over your ex girlfriend for a second". Jaehyun sends his friend a glare before rolling his eyes. "You seeing her again?" he asks and Jaehyun clears his throat, never one to lie to his friends. "Yeah". "Seeing each other or sleeping with each other?" He asks again and Jaehyun huffs, "It doesn't matter. But we've been seeing each other more than usual".

Johnny stomach turns at the hopefulness in Jaehyun's voice, he sighs, "You can't keep doing this yourself Jaehyun". But Jaehyun only starts to tickle the baby's stomach, smiling at her small laughter. "I'm not doing anything". He says plainly, and now Johnny rolls his eyes. "You're holding on to an old relationship when you need to move on. It's not fair she treats you like this, stringing you along only when she wants to have a good time. You don't deserve that, you deserve to move on and find proper, healthy relationship".

Jaehyun doesn't expect Johnny to say such things on a afternoon surrounded by their friends but it sends cold feeling through him. He merely turns to the baby to place a kiss on her soft hair, "Okay Snowdrop, go back with your daddy for now, Uncle Jae has to use the bathroom". He slips Johnny back his daughter before silently heading inside. It hurts to hear those words from his friend, but he thinks it hurts worse because he knows he's right.

Johnny's words stuck with Jaehyun throughout the rest of the week. He was used to these warnings, usually brushing them off to keep his hope for you, but there was something different about this time around. He's already seen you a couple times since Irene's party. In the past this would delight him, give him something to hold onto, but he knows the reality of your situation now. He noticed the way you looked at that announcement that night, the fact that your best friend was getting married is what drove you to him. He hadn't been naive in the past, knowing you only came to him because you were lonely, but for some reason it feels much worse now.

Instead of a hookup call every couple of months, you've been in constant contact with him since you had got drunk and called him. Jaehyun stomach turns when he figures you might be wanting more that just a hookup. You should be happy, he tells himself, this is what you always wanted, get her back. But for once his rational side is stronger realizing the timing of it all, you truly don't want him, you just don't want to be alone.

You were over for dinner once again but Jaehyun was on edge the whole time. The conversation was light and he seemed dazed. "Are you alright?" You ask him as you load the dishwasher for him, sparing him a glance as he twirls the wine around in his glass. He hums sending a nod, looking up at you as you dry your hand on a towel. You send him a small smile, "So I was thinking, my work trip next month is at some fancy resort just outside the city. It's all inclusive, spa, pool, amazing restaurants. And I can have a plus one".

Jaehyun closes his eyes and huffs, "Don't start this shit". He looks at you in time to see your shocked expression, "Excuse me?" you let you, moving to grab the counter. "Don't start acting like we're together," he says your name firmly, "We haven't been together in years. You haven't wanted me in years, don't start acting like you do now". He chugs down the rest of his drink. He can see from your face you're hurt, but he doesn't understand how you could be. You seem to gather yourself before speaking again, "That was the past, Jaehyun. This is now, I thought you knew when I reached out it was for something more. I told you I missed you". He rolls his eyes, thankful he was able to be strong. Perhaps if Johnny hadn't said those words to him this past weekend he would've already agreed to your trip, moving to look at this fancy hotel online, enjoying you before you decided you weren't lonely enough to resort to him anymore.

He says your name softly, "I know that's not true. You don't miss me, you miss having someone to have around". You avert your gaze, maybe ashamed he called you out. "I'm tired of this, I'm tired of being your fucking backup plan". You shake your head at him before speaking, voice coming out as a quiet whisper, eyes watering as you look at him, "Why won't you love me?"

Jaehyun abruptly stands from his seat, slamming his hand against the counter which makes you jump, "Don't!", he's nearly yelling, "Just stop, why would you-how dare you even say that to me!" A couple of tears have made their way down your face but Jaehyun only sees red, "You have no right to say that to me, not when I'm the only one who has shown love in all the years we've known each other". He can tell from your face the sadness is leaving your body as you become angry, "That is not true!" "Since we broke up-" he states but you cut him off, "You don't know anything about how I feel, how I felt for you all this time".

Jaehyun knows it was wrong of him to claim you didn't love him all the years you were together, you were nothing but a loving and caring girlfriend. But the anger get the best of him, especially knowing you haven't truly loved him in years. At least, not the same love he felt for you.

He takes deep breaths, trying to stop himself from speaking anymore. Not wanting to say anything worse while he's so angry, he merely watches as you stand across from him looking sad. Looking sad and beautiful and like his girlfriend he fell in love with.

Anger clouds Jaehyun's head, or possibly his love for you. He takes two steps to reach you before grabbing your face in his hands, pausing for a moment to see if you pull away from him. When you don't, he slams his lips against yours. You kiss him back, both of you sharing your frustrations through your lips. You move to grab onto his shirt to pull him closer to you, his hips slamming against yours, your back pushing almost painfully into the counter. Jaehyun roughly bites on your lips, causing you to whimper but he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You both kiss rushed and messily, hands running along each other's bodies as if you were in a hurry.

Jaehyun uses his knee to push between your legs, making you spread your legs wider. One of his hands makes its way down your body, stopping to grab your thigh roughly before his fingers soothingly run up under your dress, reaching to touch you through your panties. You groan into his mouth as he pushes against your clit, running up and down the cloth a few times before he decides it was enough.

He slips the material to the side to access your wetness, fingers touching you as his tongue still roams your mouth eagerly. He pushes his middle finger into your hole, knowing you were ready for him, yet the tightness he feels still causes a groan to leave his mouth. Jaehyun works a second finger into you, both of them moving against your walls quickly but still hitting all the right spots. Your mouth falls open as you grip his forearm, he can feel your nails digging into his arm and it only urges him to go faster. He moves his mouth to messily kiss along your jaw and down your neck, roughly biting into the soft skin every now and again. "Please, Jaehyun," you call out in a mixture of a whine and a moan causing his heart to pound firmly against his chest.

"C'mon, baby," he huskily says into your ear. His fingers are moving faster and he curls them in order to make your feel the best, his palm just at the right angle to rub against you. "There you go, cum for me" he says as he feels you tightening around him, your head thrown back in pleasure. He slows his pace but keeps moving his fingers inside of you, watching your face until your eyebrows furrow and attempt to stop his hand from moving. He pulls his fingers out, resting them on your thigh before he moves his mouth over to kiss you again. His lips are much slower against your own now. The two of you continue to kiss with this pace, just slow, almost passionate as you move against each other. In the end he can't hold out any longer, so he moves to undo his pants, taking his hard cock out of its confines.

He rubs himself in his hand a few times, the logical part of his brain reminding him he should be smart and run to the bedroom to get a condom really quick. But his brain is still clouded and not using a condom only tempted him. You don't move to object either as he lifts one of your legs up over his hip, pulling your panties to the side once again, before lining up his cock with your entrance. He rubs his tip against you, looking into your eyes to see if you want him to stop, breathing heavily when you merely nod your head to get him to continue. At your encouragement he slowly pushed himself inside of you, both of you emitting sounds of pleasure at the intrusion.

Jaehyun goes back to kissing you as he waits for your to be comfortable around him, enjoying the feeling of your hand running up his arm. When he finally moves it seems like he can't stop, his thrusts becoming faster as he feels your warmth around him without a barrier.

His mind only becomes more clouded as he has you like this, nothing in between you both. He can see your wetness coating his bare cock as he glances down to see where you meet. "Looks so good," he grumbles, "Feels even better". He says it quietly as if he isn't sure if he's telling you or himself. He picks up the pace, hand gripping your thigh tighter, "Can't believe you're letting me fuck you raw like this, huh,". He pushes his forehead against your own but you can barely keep your eyes open at the pleasure.

"Maybe I should fuck a baby into you, what do you think?" He mumbles against your lips and you whine his name in return. Jaehyun knows he shouldn't be saying stuff like this, especially now after fighting over your so-called relationship. Not when it's such a touchy subject for you both. But his head is so filled with desire, desire for you, desire for something more in life with you, that these things are slipping freely past his lips.

"Mm, that's right. Let me cum inside you, baby. I'll fill you up so nicely". His mouth is lose at this point, words tumbling off his lips he knows he will regret later. "Please, Jaehyun," you moan back to him, "Please cum inside". "Shit," he curses as you encourage him, hips knocking into yours as he reaches his end. Spilling his warmth deep inside of you, he feels amazing now, ears ringing and hands roaming your body. He kisses you before he can think too much, before he comes to his senses and realize what he has done. For now he will just bask in the afterglow.

The both of you are now settled onto his couch. A large blanket covers the two of you as you have cleaned up and now lay watching a random movie he found on t.v. You're head is against his chest as he plays with your hair and you feel so tired. Physically and mentally. Tired of holding onto Jaehyun and relying on him as your only source of comfort. He doesn't deserve that and frankly neither do you. Yet neither of you can seem to stop.

"Why do we keep holding onto each other?" you whisper out to him, breaking the long silence between you both.

"You hold onto me because I make you feel less lonely," he speaks back, hand roaming down your arm to play with your fingers, "And I hold onto you because I'm in love with you".

Copyright © 2023 by nczennie. All rights reserved.

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

#mine #wwylm fic #jaehyun #nct #jaehyun fanfic #jaehyun smut #jaehyun angst #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au #jaehyun drabble #jaehyun hard hours #nct fanfic #nct smut #nct angst #nct imagine #nct au #nct x reader #kpop au #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfic rec #kpop smut

[starsstuddedsky]

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 

“And why am I here?” 

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 

“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 

“No comment.” 

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 

“I have self-control.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 

“Of what?” 

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.” 

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 

“Always.” 

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 

His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 

“I'll stay strong.” 

“What if I want a kitten?” 

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 

“Sucker.” 

“Only for you.” 

thank you for reading <3

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt reader #svt #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #chwe hansol #vernon #vernon fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt fanfic #vernon fic #vernon fanfic #reader x vernon #svt vernon #seventeen vernon #vernon seventeen #vernon svt #svt x reader #svt fluff

[myfictionaldreams]

ello! saw your post and i wanna request a moon knight in which the reader is a female and she just graduated uni and the moon boys take turns in bed praising her like "our smart pretty girl", "so independent" of course if you are comfortable writing this have a good day/night :)

Praises // Moon Knight boys ☾ x fem!reader

A/N: Thank you for this request, I’ve been desperate to write something like this again! Also if anyone is at university or college, good luck with any exams/essays/results, I know how difficult it can be but trust me, it’s worth it in the end!

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, anxiety, fluff, begging, sub steven, dom marc, dom jake, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, oral sex (f!recieving), creampie, pet names, shower sex, multiple sex positions, fingering, crying, praise kink, sir kink, daddy kink, aftercare, intense orgasms, pain/pleasure, bdsm, literally this is filthy lol, not beta read im sorry for mistakes

Word: 7.6k (oops)

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link

The hardwood floor creaked beneath your sock-covered feet as you paced back and forth across the flat you shared with the boys. You’d been at it since the moment you’d awakened that day, anxiety rippling through your body so drastically that pacing was the only action you could complete without the overwhelming feeling of throwing up or passing out.

It was the day you’d been waiting for years, results day. And for some unknown reason, the University had decided to release the results in the evening rather than midday which only caused you to overthink everything you had ever done whilst at uni. What if the results are out late because you failed? What if you have to waste another whole year resitting it? Shaking your head, you tried to let your mind go blank before you spiralled into a deep pit.

Steven watched you from his seat on the sofa, his own nerves bubbling in his stomach, hands wringing in his lap as he glanced at the clock for what felt like the 400th time that day. He desperately wanted you to get your results, he knew for sure that you’d passed but he absolutely hated seeing you this worked up.

Usually, Steven was always the one to be able to help best with your anxieties, compared to Jake and Marc. But today, he felt completely helpless as he watched you continue to pace the same path continuously for hours on end.

“Uh… Love, why don’t you have something to drink, you haven’t had anything all day”, Steven tried to reason with you, his voice trying to be soft and calm and would usually have you crawling into his lap but today, your mind couldn’t even process anything that he said.

Instead, your eyes remained glued to the screen of the laptop that was on the desk between you and Steven, so that he couldn’t see the screen. Your reasoning is that if you failed, you didn’t want him to read the words.

Steven shook his head as you continued to pace, briefly glancing at the mirror as Marc demanded that he make you drink. “I can’t force her to do anything mate” Steven mumbled in reply.

Marc rolled his eyes in announced in the mirror, not that you could see or hear his reply, “You know what Steven, maybe you should force her, it’s been nearly 20 hours since she’s had anything to eat or drink”.

“You do it then mate, I’m not having her hating me when she’s so stressed out-” BING.

Both you and Steven stopped immediately at the recognisable email notification noise. The air in the room suddenly felt thick and heavy as you slowly reached for the laptop, fingers shaking as you were one click away from finding out the much-anticipated results. Steven sat on the edge of the sofa, watching you closely to try and read any sort of expression that would give your results away.

Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as you finally plucked up the courage to click on that all-important email.

You couldn’t breathe for a second, eyes becoming painful from the length of time that you’d gone without blinking until finally, you whispered, “I did it”.

Steven stood so quick his vision blurred as he shouted, “you did it?”

“I did it!” you screamed, reading the word congratulations over and over on the computer screen, the realisation finally set in as you sprinted around the table and jumped into Steven’s arms, causing you both to topple backwards onto the sofa, your legs straddling his body as he held you to him. Both of you were screaming and shouting with joy, you even briefly felt bad for the neighbours but you also didn’t care as happy tears slipped down your cheeks.

You weren’t sure when but the tears soon turned into sobs, all the years, countless nights not sleeping, the essays and exams had all been worth it for this moment. Steven held you close, catching every tear that escape your eyes, his lips brushing against your forehead.

“Oh my beautiful, smart girl” he praised, lips moving across your face until there wasn’t a patch of skin he hadn’t kissed as he continued to compliment you until finally, you stopped sobbing, instead smiling so much that your cheeks ached, which Steven was reciprocating with proud bright eyes.

“I can’t believe it,” you said in a rush, leaning your forehead against his whilst his hands settled against your waist, thumb rubbing small circles over your clothes.

“I never doubted you for a second, Love” Steven bragged, one of his hands moving to cup your cheek which you swiftly nuzzled into. Your boyfriend kissed your lips once more, twice, three times before you pressed harder, with all the eagerness that you could muster, knuckles aching with how tightly you were holding onto his shirt. His soft lips moved with yours, the taste of toast on the tip of your tongue as it slipped in, caressing his own.

Steven moaned, hands both now cupping the back of your head, keeping you close to him as you both became lost in one another's lips. It was only as your lungs burned for the need of air did you pull away, but only to tug on the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel more of him, your hips rolling down onto his crotch, already feeling this thickening cock, only separated from your cunt by a few layers of material.

Leaning forward, you were able to finally free him of the shirt, his warm beautiful skin flexing under your fingers as they danced along the skin, needing to feel every part of him as those wondrous lips of his travelled down your throat, leaving delicate kisses that had your body shivering in response. “My smart girl, my beautiful smart girl” he mumbled, and you mewled with each praise, loving when Steven was so appreciative of you, which he usually was.

It was only as you reached down to undo his jeans were you stopped by his hands enveloping yours, halting your actions. A frown set across your features as Steven sat back on the sofa so you were able to look at his face.

“Sorry Darlin’, Marc he- he keeps shouting at me and it’s only getting worse. I promise we can continue this but I really need you to drink something”.

You sat back against his knees, hands raising to Steven’s cheeks, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as you knew the next words would probably get you in trouble but you didn’t care, Marc was ruining a perfectly good moment. “Well… fuck Marc, I’m busy”.

Steven’s head tipped back as he laughed, his eyes creasing as his hands returned to the back of your head, pulling you forward, “oh I’m sure you’ll be paying for that one later”. His lips moulded with yours once more, both of you moaning at the contact, his scents were filling your senses as you turned your head, causing the kiss to go deeper, his tongue flicking out and dancing with your own.

Steven was very good at distractions so you weren’t expecting for him to flip your position so now you were the one on the sofa, lying down with him hovering over you. It was now your turn to be undressed and he moved with delicate touches, making sure to lightly touch your skin as he removed each article of clothing leaving goosebumps across your body.

In between your legs was throbbing uncontrollably, your panties visibly wet as he pulled them down your legs and discarded them across the room. You needed him, you needed him now.

Reaching up to try and pull him down, you whined as he moved out of your reach, his lips kissing the tips of your fingers as he smiled down at you, “Shh my clever girl, let me take care of you”. You didn’t respond, not sure you could even form a proper word as arousal turned your brain to fuzz. Particularly as you lay there and watched the half-naked Steven move lower, hands now on the back of your thighs pushing up until you were completely exposed to him, the cool air causing your sweet cunt to clench around nothing.

He didn’t break eye contact, as he lowered his face, tongue out until finally, he licked the length of your core, savouring the unique taste that was only you. Both of you moaned deeply, his movements were slow, calculated like they always were. Steven was a passionate lover, more submissive than the other two but that mean that all he wanted to do was pleasure you, never caring if he came, only caring that you were taken care of.

His talented tongue moved up your slit, reaching your throbbing bean, circling it slowly, adding the slightest bit of pressure, making sure to really build up your already heightened arousal. At the same time, his long fingers moved to your entrance, circling it in the same manner as his tongue and slowly, you watched him slip one finger in, your mouth hung open, a constant stream of moans leaving it, only spurring Steven on.

The man didn’t do anything special with his fingers, for now, that was for later, instead, he simply felt the velvety warm walls, stretching you enough to slip in a second finger, rocking them both in and out as a single dark curl fell onto his forehead. Your hand reached out, sliding through his hair, not being rough, you could never be rough with Steven but simply scratching his scalp, silently telling him that he was doing good, perfect in fact.

Steven watched you for a few moments, continuing his slow actions, knowing that he was going to make you cum in the next minute but wanting to have the image of you moaning, glossy-eyed and desperate, engraved into his brain.

Removing his mouth from your centre, he beamed, “I’m so proud of you”. Steven's lips then seal around your clit, sucking it into his mouth whilst at the same time starting to curl his fingers, pumping his hand and the tingling sensation rushed over you before you could fully process his words. Releasing your clit, his tongue swiped across with firm pressure whilst his fingers didn’t stop the movements, Steven became aware that his chin and neck were becoming wet as you squirted over him, eyes rolling back, the hand in his hair moving to the sofa so you didn’t pull out his hair, needing to grip something as your core tightened violently until finally, you came.

Your cunt convulsed around his fingers, your body spasming as Steven’s fingers slowed until eventually, he pulled them out, his tongue licking up every drip of your juices. He smiled down at you, cheeks flushed as he could see the happy smile spread across your face, “I need you, Steven”.

“You can have me Love, but not here, you deserve the bed, not the sofa, come on”, tugging on your hand, he helped you up, chuckling at the slight wobbling of your legs but the distance to the bed wasn’t long and you were soon pushing him into the middle, crawling up until you were straddling his lap. Once again, however, Steven switched your positions, shaking his head as he smiled mischievously down at you. “How ever will I treat my ever so clever girl, passing her degree all by herself”.

“Steven please”, he never usually had you begging like this, that was more Jake's job but Steven couldn’t help himself today, he wanted you to feel amazing. Reaching up, you gripped his hair, pulling his face down so you could hungrily kiss him, tongues clashing together, teeth nipping on lips.

The man hovering over you reached between your bodies, fumbling to undo his jeans with shaky hands, his cock almost painful with how hard he was, he relieved sigh escaped his lips that were still attached to yours as his member was finally freed. You noticed his reaction and instantly reached for him, tossing him off a few times, enjoying the way he bucked his hips with your movements, before angling it towards your entrance, not even giving him time to fully take off the remainder of his clothes.

You both groaned deeply as he finally slide his thick hard cock into your quivering hole, your arousal enough to be a natural lube as he easily filled you inch after inch until finally you were both slotted together.

Sex with Steven was never the same as with Marc or Jake. It was never rushed, aggressive or filled with fancy sex positions. No, it was always sensual, and passionate and he knew your body better than your own but he was always modest about it, simply smiling down at you like you were the only thing that mattered in the world. Obviously Marc and Jake thought the same but sex with them was just…different, you loved them all equally especially as they were all so unique.

Your back arched up as Steven started to pull out, his thrusts were long and deep, and his hands were interlocked with your own, held above your head whilst his lips travelled down the length of your throat. Every drag of his hips had you clinging harder to him, as he built up your pleasure until he had to cuming just as hard as the first time, your cunt clenching hard around him that he too came, your name spilt from his lips in desperation, arms wobbling to keep himself up as he stilled within.

After a few moments of trying to catch your breaths, he rolled off of you, his hand coming up to stroke your cheek as both of you smiled at each other like idiots in love. Closing your eyes, you savoured the after-sex glow, listening to each other breath.

“You know… you really do need to eat something Poppet. How about we go to dinner? Celebrate the great news, have a few drinks?”

“I would love that very much, Mr Grant. Let me just have a quick shower”, you lean up to kiss him, standing and doing the awkward run to the bathroom, hands between your legs to stop any of his cum from dripping onto the floor.

Stepping into the shower, you let the warm water spill over your body, relaxing your muscles. The reality of passing university brushed over your thoughts again as you did a happy dance in the shower, quickly before washing your body.

You’d become so lost in your happy little thoughts that you didn’t hear the other person enter the bathroom, not until a warm solid body collided with your back. Smiling to yourself, you leaned into the warmth, feeling the already hardening cock against your lower back. “Ready for another round are you, my love?” you asked innocently.

As you made to turn around, a muscular arm circled around your front, gripping your jaw in a strong grip so you were now held firmly in place. Definitely not Steven.

The hand holding your jaw pushed upwards, tipping your head back so that the shower sprayed across your face, lips moved to your ears, tickling and teasing as a low voice murmured, “Fuck Marc? Did I hear you correctly?”

You knew he could feel the pounding of your heart as he held your jaw, his teeth nipping your ear as you rubbed your thighs together, cunt clenching in anticipation, you didn’t date speak. It was always the game of cat and mouse when it came to Marc and your relationship but in the end, Marc always was the winner.

“All you needed to do…was to have one drink of water, just one”. You were hyperaware of every single movement that he made as he raised his spare hand to rest lightly against your naked hip, keeping you close to him.

“Well we were slightly distracted…sir”, you added the name for good measure, not wanting to annoy him any further.

His lips turned up slightly at your words but he didn’t say anything for a few minutes, leaving the anticipation thick in the air until at least, he squeezed your jaw, demanding you open. Immediately you opened your mouth wide, the water from the shower dribbling out and down your chin.

“Drink.”

You drank the water as it poured down from the shower, gulping the water thirstily.

“Good girl”, he whispered, feeling every time you swallowed whilst he continued to hold your jaw. His words sent shivers up your spine, causing it to rub harder against his cock that throbbed against you.

As your gulps started to slow down and Marc was happy with your water intake, he spun you around, pressing your back against the cool tiles, hand still holding onto your jaw, the other now leaning against the wall above you. Reaching down to your height, his back now had the shower beating against it so you weren’t being sprayed anymore.

Slowly, you raised your eyes from the floor, up his body to his dark beautiful eyes. Even though he shared the same body as Steven and Jake, he still looked different, you weren’t sure whether it was the hardening of the gaze in his eyes or the beautiful smirk that he held on his lips but either way, it brought a sly smile to your own mouth, having not seen him for a week.

“I hear congratulations are in order, you beautiful intelligent girl.” Pride and love bloomed in your chest.

“Thank you, sir”. So distracted by his handsome face, you didn’t notice the hand he had used to lean against the wall, slip down until his calloused fingertip started rubbing against your eagerly awaiting clit, causing you to cry out.

“I’m so proud of you, baby girl”.

“Tha-thank you, sir. I couldn’t have done it without you-ah!” Marc had slipped two fingers into your centre, his thumb now rubbing slow methodical circles against your bundle of nerves, your hips began moving with the action instantly. He watched you closely, his eyes devouring your every move.

Marc didn’t quicken his pace as he continued talking, the two fingers within you moving in and out steadily, “Now, I think my baby girl deserves a reward, what do you say?” You could only nod, moaning at his clever hands. “You’ve done so amazingly over these last few years. I want to pleasure you until you can’t walk and then we’ll order some food, no need to leave this place when I’ve got to make you feel good, baby.”

The mere thought of what he had planned had your core tightening, the tingles already spreading down your thighs as you breathed out, “I’m close, sir.”

“You want to cum for daddy?”

“Yes please, daddy”. His fingers moved quicker, bending at the perfect angle as his mouth dropped to suck one of your erect nipples, your hands instantly moving to hold onto his wrist that still held your jaw.

“Then cum for me, baby”. You did. Hard. The wind was knocked out of you as your knees wobbled, nails digging into his skin as your pussy contracted around his fingers.

Releasing your nipple with a pop, Marc moved quickly, turning you around, not giving you time to process what was happening as you found your face pushed against the shower wall. The water then stopped spraying the two of your as he turned it off, pulling your hips backwards leaving you slightly bent over.

Your boyfriend then proceeded to lick your cunt dry, you twitch at the oversensitiveness, automatically moving away from his warm tongue as it lapped over your swollen bud. “Shh, it’s ok Sweetheart”, he kisses both of your arse cheeks, “no more clit play unless you ask”.

Sighing in slight relief, you wiggled your hips as he stood to his full height. Glancing over your shoulder, you moaned, “mmm, want your cock sir”.

“Ok baby girl”, he was penetrating you a second later, your sensitive walls already clenching around him. Having already been fucked by Steven already today, you didn’t need time to adjust and Marc knew that as he started a quick, hard and thorough pace, his hand tugging on your hair so your neck ached at the odd angle, the sounds of your bodies slapping together like music to his ears. “My good girl, my very clever pretty girl”.

You were grunting with each thrust, trying your best to not cum already, it had only been two minutes but you were so sensitive from the previous activities. “I…I already need to cum sir, I don’t think I can hold it, I’m sorry”.

“That’s ok baby, cum for me, that’s it”, your knees buckled as you came, your insides felt like they were on fire as every nerve poured with pleasure, it took you a second to realise that Marc had his arm around your middle stopping you from collapsing to the floor. Easing out of you, he helped you out of the shower after you had found your footing, you stepped out, holding his hand but soon were leaning up to heavily kiss him, realising that you hadn’t even kissed him since he began fronting.

You could feel yourself becoming needier the more feverish the kiss became, enough so that your hand slipped down to grip Marc’s still incredibly hard cock, trying to please him but his hand caught your wrist stopping your movements. Breaking the kiss, Marc looked into your eyes, smirking slightly at your bratty whine.

“Do you want to stop? I need to hear your words?”

“I want you to cum in my pussy, please don’t stop sir” you desperately replied.

Marc didn’t need to be told twice as you found yourself being manhandled by him once more, as he pushed you over the sink, thrusting into your core, pulling on your hair like he had in the shower but now you were faced with the bathroom mirror so you could watch Marc pounded into you.

Leaning over until his lips were next to your ear, with each pound of his hips, Marc praised you, much like how Steven did, about how you were such a smart girl, you’ve done so well, his little university graduate. Your cunt clenched with his words, feeling both fucked out of your mind and proud of yourself at the same moment was hard to comprehend but he made you feel so special. Marc was always a soft dom, he would praise you no matter what, even in your brattiest of moments, but he just loved looking after his baby girl, not like Jake, he liked to handle those moments in different styles, not that you would ever want to be bratty with Jake.

Marc’s other hand which had been holding on to your hips with a fierce grip, moved to your torso, fondling your tits, squeezing the soft flesh, as his lips sucked into the side of your neck lightly. You tried to speak to tell him you were going to cum but the only noises to leave you were heavy moans Marc could tell you were getting close by the fluttering that your cunt was doing around his cock, he had been trying to hold off for a while, seeing you bent over in the shower nearly had him spurting his seed over your back but he held out for as long as he could to see just how much you could handle.

“That’s it, baby, cum with me, well done, good girl”, your core felt impossibly tight as finally, your orgasm rippled through your body. Marc was thankful that you were over the sink, his own orgasm making his knees wobble slightly so that he had to hold onto the side next to your hips to keep himself up as he shouted your name out.

He kissed a line up your back as you tried to catch your breath, his cock slipping out of you followed by his hot seed dripping out and onto the floor. He then spent a few quiet moments cleaning you up, wiping away his cum as softly as he could, apologising every time you flinched before finally asking if you thought you could walk, to which you promptly shook your head no. It didn’t go unnoticed by you the large smirk that he had on his face at hearing that his plan worked.

Your handsome boyfriend eased your body into his arms, your head laying on his shoulder as he supported your legs and back, carrying you back into the main area of the flat and onto the bed, neither of you particularly caring that you were still damp from the shower. Sighing in relief at finally being on a soft surface, Marc wrapped a spare blanket over your cold body, kissing your hairline delicately.

“I’ll be back in a moment sweetheart, I’ll order us some food, my smart girl”.

You must have fallen asleep because, by the time you had woken up, the smell of food was filling the apartment, your stomach making a loud growl at the realisation that food was here. Sitting up in bed, you blinked away the sleep in your eyes, groaning at the ache in your muscle from the evening's activities. The food smelt amazing however so ignoring the pain, you climbed out of bed, keeping the blanket around your naked body and glanced across the room into the kitchen, expecting to see Marc unboxing whatever food he had decided upon ordering but instead, he was hunched over the stove, cooking something.

Frowning you tried to clear the fog in your head to make sense of it. Marc couldn’t cook anything except toast (only on a good day), there was no way he’d be able to cook whatever you were smelling right now, and as for Steven, you’d be lucky to get a plain slide of bread without it being wrong in some kind of way. So it wasn’t Marc and it definitely wasn’t Steven that you were watching cook.

It was an almost immediate reaction, your whole body felt warm and safe. It wasn’t that Marc and Steve didn’t make you feel safe, of course, they did but with Jake, his unhinged personality meant that he would do anything and everything to keep you safe, it was a different type of protection compared to the other two. It was also not very often that you get to see all three alters in one day.

Biting your lip in anticipation, you stepped forward, “Papi?” His head flicked towards you immediately, moving the food off the heat so he could approach you.

His footsteps were heavy as he walked closer, his arms out, ready for your next move which was to drop the blanket and jump into his arms, legs circling his waist and arms holding tightly to his shoulders as his strong arms held onto your naked body. 

“Mi Amor” he mumbled against your neck, kissing the skin lightly as he held you close. You hadn’t seen Jake in weeks, particularly with all the stress that you had been through with the ending of university, he hated seeing you anxious. Unless there was someone else to hurt if they had caused the anxiety, he usually stayed away, hating to see love upset, it slowly sends him into an unbalanced state that no one particularly needed to deal with.

“I’ve missed you”, pulling away from his shoulder, you looked into his brown eyes that looked nearly black whenever Jake was fronting.

“I missed you too, cariño,” his voice was deep and laced with his beautiful Spanish accent that made your heart flutter. “My beautiful, intelligent girl”. Your cheeks warmed due to his compliments as he lowered you back to the floor, his hands cupping the sides of your head, tilting your face up to his so he could kiss your forehead tenderly, then lower to your lips. You wanted desperately to whine at the loss of contact but you didn’t want to ruin this calm Jake that you had not seen in a while, recently whenever he had fronted, it would be after a mission with Konshu and he would have a lot of pent up frustration and tension, leading to hours of you begging for him to allow you to cum, so seeing him calm wasn’t something you were used too.

Kissing your forehead one more time, he nodded in the direction of the table that still had your laptop on from earlier with the best email you had ever received. “Go and take a seat, the food is nearly ready, and take this, you’ll catch a cold, mi amor”, Jake then proceeded to remove his shirt, handing the warm material to you. Quickly pulling it over your head, you took a second to openly ogle at his body, even though you knew his body like the back of your hand, it still managed to get you all hot and bothered.

Jake chuckled deeply to himself, a single finger pushed under your chin, lifting your eyes from his chest up to his eyes, “later mi amor, now, go and take a seat”. You did as instructed, trying to ignore the evidence of arousal that was moistening your core, his shirt the only thing covering up the glistening wet that was slowly spreading over your thighs as you took a seat and tried not to move too much otherwise he would hear the squeak of your wet cunt against the leather chair.

He joined you soon after at the table, carrying two plates filled with delicious food that had your mouth watering, Jake was such a fantastic cook. As you moved to pick up a fork, Jake swatted your hand away lightly, “allow me” he demanded softly so you sat, hands clutching the edge of his shirt whilst he fed you.

He was able to feed both you and himself and with every bite you held strong eye contact with him, thanking him for every drop of food that you swallowed until he was scraping his and your plate clean. Pushing them to the other side of the table, he sat back in his chair, legs spread as he looked your head to two, making you squirm at the intense stare.

“Just taking the opportunities whilst I can”. You frowned at his words, not quite understanding what he meant.

“What opportunities?”

“To do things for you, there won't be much opportunity as you won’t need me for much longer now will you.”

The room suddenly felt small and suffocating as your throat closed shut, it felt like your world was crumbling.

“What?” was all you could whisper, barely audible as you tried not to cry, watching as Jake sat forward in his seat, forearms leaning against the table.

“Well now, you’re a big independent girl, you’ve passed your university degree, what else would you need me for, right?” You realised now that he was joking but you still felt on edge. “I mean, my smart Princesa, you’ve done this all by yourself, you won’t need me anymore”.

“I’ll… I’ll always need you Jake”, he gave you a pointed look so you quickly corrected yourself, “Papi, I’ll always need you”.

He didn’t respond immediately, still taking his time looking up and down your body until it looked like he had decided upon something. Lifting to fingers, he bent them, signalling for you to come to him which you did without needing to be told twice. Jake sat back in the chair, opening his arms for you to sit comfortably in his lap but before you fully sat, he twirled with his hand so you turned your back to him, sitting down in his lap, your head leaning back against his shoulder.

“Now I want you to do something for me, look at that right there” he pointed to the seat you were just in. At first, you looked on, confused about what exactly you were supposed to be looking at but then you spotted it and your cheeks burned hot. On the leather seat, the evidence of your juicy cunt hadn’t dried, even though you had tried not to drip onto the seat.

“Did my amigos not take good enough care of you today Princesa?” You were so embarrassed, it wasn’t normal for your body to still be craving someone's touch when you’d already been pounded multiple times and orgasmed multiple times, yet here you were, nipples peaked, clit throbbing uncomfortably, internally begging that he would touch you.

“Well? Did they?”

“The-they did Papi, I just..always want you, I’ve missed you so much-” your words were cut off as his large hand encircled around your throat squeezing slightly. The other hand moved to ease each of your thighs on either side of his so once he spread his legs further, your legs widened, causing the shirt you were wearing to rise, exposing your wet, marginally swollen cunt to him.

Your breathing quickened as you watched his hand move towards the area you wanted him to touch so desperately. Jake noticed your breathing and not wanting to overwhelm you, shifted the hand up your neck until his index finger could slip into your mouth. Almost instantly you were sucking on it, the action helping to distract and calm you, the muscles all over your body relaxing as you melted back into his hard body.

Your body still jolted however as he rubbed two fingers up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal before lifting them in front of both of your faces, displaying it. “See, this would say otherwise” he then lifted the fingers to his mouth, sucking them, moaning at the taste before lowering it, testing to see just how much you could take with him. First, he tried to circle your clit with his finger but you hissed at the touch, almost biting down on his finger in your mouth, before he moved lower to your cunt, pushing in slowly and you could feel how oversensitive your walls were and how you were slightly swollen from the action you’d received earlier as his one finger felt like the same thickness as his cock at that moment. 

Jake didn’t say anything at first, simply humming as he removed his digit, once again licking it clean before kissing the side of your head, his favourite way to show that you were safe with him and that he’d look after you.

“Now, how am I going to praise you for doing such incredible work with finishing university if you can hardly even take my finger, mi amor.” You huffed in frustration, the building tension was becoming nearly unbearable, even though it was uncomfortable, the pleasure was slowly starting to outweigh the pain. Sex with Jake was usually quite rough anyway so it was nothing that you hadn’t dealt with before.

“I can take it” you mumbled around his finger, reaching across to his other hand, trying to drag it back to your sopping cunt but he kept it still, not giving in to your demands. Instead, he stood, pulling you up with him, arm around your waist as he walked you to the bed, hand tugging on the shirt you worse until your arms shot up, allowing him to pull it off of you, before pushing on your chest so that you collapsed into the centre of the bed.

Looking up at him, you tried not to show how much he intimate you as he began to take off the remainder of his clothes and then crawled to join you, the evidence of his own excitement standing proud in between his legs until he was lying next to you.

“Turn over” he instructed, which you swiftly followed, lying on your side with your back to him, the warmth of his chest had you nuzzling back as his lips delicately kissed your bare shoulder. “You still think you can take me?” he asked, lifting up your leg and resting it onto of his, the feeling of his cock prodding at your inner thigh had you whimpering for more.

“Yes Papi, I can take it”, his only response to your words were him pinching your nipple harshly, tugging it away from your body and then letting it snap back as he released it. Your hips moved at the sensation, the pleasure once again pooling in your cunt entrance. “Need you…”

“You need me? But I thought you were a smart independent girl who doesn’t need me anymore?” you teased, his teeth now grazing your neck, hard enough that you were sure there would be indents in your skin. You could feel yourself feeling more and more subby as the seconds ticked by, your brain fuzzy with the need to be stimulated and Jake once again just laughed at how desperate you were becoming, he always loved to tease and push you to your limits.

Knowing that you’d start crying soon if he didn’t fuck you, he shifted his hips up, his tip finally pushing into your warm, wet folds, finding your aching hole and penetrating within. The sensation took your breath away, you felt so tight even Jake had to stop for a moment as he slide all the way in, otherwise, he would have cum before it had even begun.

His fingers still played with your nipples but as he started to pull out, he moved to grip your throat, the pressure was welcoming, not enough to fully cut off oxygen completely, but enough that you had to concentrate on how you breathed. Lifting your own hands, you gripped onto his wrist, much as you had with Marc.

This position felt intimate, he felt like he was all over you as he cursed in Spanish, his lips right next to your ear as he pushed his cock back into you, it being slightly easier than the first time. You’d never felt this overstimulated before, the mixture of pain and pleasure was blissful and you were worried that you were already only on the verge of cuming with all of the teasings that he’d done.

His pace was unusually slow, but you were thankful, not wanting to have too much stimulation at once but suddenly he snapped his hips up harshly, his cock fucking straight into your g-spot, your cunt clenching like a vice as the recognisable sensation of tightening in your core already overwhelmed you.

“Wait- wait I’m going to cum Papi, wait-” his thrusts didn’t stop, they were still slow but were harsh and you felt the rumble of his chest on your back as he growled in your ear.

“Then cum, mi Amor, cum my clever Princesa”. Your vision nearly turned blank as you hadn’t expected him to give you permission, it was almost an instant reaction as you came, the throbbing contractions fluttering around his cock as your nails dug into his wrist harshly, unable to mentally process what had even happened for a few seconds.

Jake had stopped moving to give you time to recover, another thing that he never usually did, sensing your confusion, he nipped your ear and murmured, “don’t expect this to be a regular occurrence, I’m only being nice because of how proud I am of you today. Do you need to use your safe words?”

You wanted to shake your head, thinking you couldn’t possibly talk but you knew he would get angry if you didn’t use your words so as he removed his hand from your throat you smiled, mumbling, “green Papi”.

Jake pulled his cock out of you, rolling you onto your front and pulling up your hips until you were on your knees, your face laid out on the bed, you were too lazy to try and push yourself up but this was the exact position that Jake wanted you in as he reached forward, pulling each of your arms until he held them behind your back, your neck now straining for the lack of support but any thought of discomfort flew out of the window as he fucked back into you.

You screamed out, not caring who heard as the bed started to shake against Steven’s book cake, Jake wasn’t holding back now. He grunted with each stroke, your cunt gripping him tightly like a glove as he watched himself disappear inside of you. The grip on your hands allowed him to pull you back onto his cock as you repeatedly moaned out Papi.

After all the pleasure you’d had all day, you didn’t think it was possible for you to cum again, having lost count of how many orgasms you’d even had that day but sure enough, as Jake moved to kneel on one knee behind you, the change in movements causing his cock to tip up the slightest bit, he now was just pounding into your poor sensitive g-spot. 

“Ah- Papi, I need…to…cum” you shouted, eyes rolling back at the overwhelming sensations, not even listening to whether you had permission or not as euphoria rushed through every inch of your body once more, your toes curling, small drips of squirt dripping onto the sheets below. Jake pulled out, letting go of your arms and you all but collapsed onto the bed, exhausted, body shaking from the day's events. 

“See, this is why I make you wait to cum, you’ll just tire yourself out if I let you cum whenever you want, for a smart girl you really are dumb sometimes.” Jake teased, satisfied with how thoroughly fucked you looked.

Glancing over your shoulder tiredly, you looked at his still-hard cock, then up to his beautiful face. “I still want you to cum in me, Papi.”

Jake bit his lip, contemplating your words, hand brushing down your spine, “you know… any other day I would be already fucking you into the mattress but I think you’ve had enough today”.

You frowned at his words, having never heard him actually say no to fucking you before, usually he would continue until you were crying with being overstimulated or floating in subspace. “But..but I can take it, I promise Papi” you tried to wiggle your arse to show him you were still up for it but your whole body felt like jelly so it didn’t move much. “Please!”

Jake glanced away for a moment like he was thinking through the consequences if he continued to stop until finally, he looked back, gripping your cheeks to show the seriousness of his words. “If you started to feel only pain and no pleasure, you tell me immediately do you understand?” he was using his dom tone of voice, one that you wanted to cower away from but instead you simply responded with a simple “yes”.

“Good. And the next time you cum, it will be the final time, as much as I love feeling your beautiful cunt pulsing around my dick, I already know you’re going to be feeling a bit spacey with the next one so we will be stopping and doing aftercare, whether I’ve cum or not, do you understand mi amor?”

“Yes, Papi.” Swallowing harshly at his seriousness, you also could feel the anticipation for him filling you back up again, even though everything felt overly sensitive, you couldn’t wait, the only issue was that your legs were so weak you could kneel back into position so Jake helped you to lift your hips and slide a pillow beneath you, helping your cunt to arch up but still being comfortable for you.

He straddled your legs, hands clenching your arse cheeks, prying them apart so he could look at your core, whispering about its beauty before finally he inched his veiny thick cock back inside of you. All the energy in your body had disappeared so that you couldn’t even grip the sheets, only instead being able to moan out his name repeatedly, as his hips snapped into yours.

This position also allowed him to hit deeper spots inside your cunt, each movement was like a spark of pure pleasure that had you on a constant high. Jake moaned at the sight beneath him, knowing that he was close, he picked up the pace, knowing it needed to be now or never as your eyebrows bunched together, mouth opening in a silent O, just a few more deep, heavy thrusts and his milky cum was coating your walls, just as you also shivered and clenched around him in orgasm but this one was different.

Through the multitude that you’d had that day, all your energy was burnt so you simply shivered and dribbled into the sheets, Jake even though for a moment you’d passed out but you still responded when he called out your name.

Not that you were aware of it, but Jake moved off of the bed, returning only once he had two wash clothes in his hand, one to clean you up with, which you didn’t even flinch at, whilst the other he simply placed it over your cunt as something to ease the pain and swelling.

Finally, he pulled on some underwear, picked up the discarded blanket from the table and moved back into bed, shifting your dead weight up until he was beneath you, your body lying over his chest as he covered you both with the blanket.

Stroking back the sweaty hair out of your face, Jake kissed your forehead one last time for that night, whispering, “well done my clever girl.”

#moon knight smut #moon knight one shot #moon knight fic #moon knight #steven grant one shot #steven grant smut #steven grant fic #steven grant x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #steven grant #jake lockley smut #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley #mine* #request

[grison-in-space]

Watching the new Alex Jones doc, which is heavy on the alt right response to Sandy Hook and the gun rhetoric that followed... so yeah I thought of when I was teaching during #GunFreeUT back in 2015 as a PhD student in Austin. I would have been about 25. When people came to my workplace and the state said that the students had been complaining* about how frightened they were to be away from their firearms for twenty minutes. When the entire campus was newly declared acceptable for open carry of ducking semiautomatic rifles. The undergrad who organized #CocksNotGlocks, who accurately pointed out that state obscenity laws banned sex toys in public to appeal to people's comfort and sensibilities, but would not consider such a thing for deadly weapons. As I recall, she drew massive waves of harassment from random people who were actual alt right adults with jobs and lives, not college students. I think she had to take a gap year.

*in fact the law was extremely unpopular among the UT Austin student body, most of who were horrified by having to confront the possibility of deadly weapons belonging to fuck only knows whom in not only their workplace but their homes.

I remember standing in a room for staff resistance through #GunFreeUT, the smell of the room, the texture of the cotton shirt I wore. The hastily organized attempts to carve out any freedom we could. The horrified stipulations about whether firearms could be kept out of classrooms themselves if not campuses (no), and the fretful whispers about what the state had declared about our offices, how we were going to be able to declare them gun free zones... If we agreed that students with concealed carry licenses could choose to meet with us somewhere where the gun was allowed to go. The group that announced it was going to celebrate its new open carry status by staging a school shooting on campus, the shooter of course to be played by a "good guy with a gun." The university announcing that they had interceded and made clear to the group that this re enactment could not take place, so they kicked the demonstration a couple of blocks away. Happened at a local gas station.

I was still seeing sad flyers from office staff and teachers saying things like PLEASE NO GUNS IN THIS SPACE when I graduated with my PhD in 2020, the first winter the pandemic was in full swing. I remember the texture of the paper the last time I saw it vividly. I catch myself starting to think about the campus school stabbing I would teach through in 2017 and any one of a hundred more rearguard final stands between the city and the state and—

Okay, that's where I got up and walked off to get a soda. You're getting me now after I've had a minute.

That's a classic PTSD flashback, in case you're wondering. At no time do my senses report anything to my mind about anything unusual happening in the room. At no time, while I remember these things, do I believe that I am currently in danger for my life. It's a strong, vivid memory, but only a memory.

But it's a memory that grabs you by the mind and shakes you. That's a flashback. It's a classic simple PTSD flashback as a consequence of fear and stress sustained over time. Other folks around me who think maybe PTSD or maybe cPTSD applies to you, if you're hung up on not thinking you get anything like flashbacks?

That's what a flashback is from the inside. Your brain is running over the memory of the thing that forever changed your estimation of safety. Just in case you might forget.

Just, you know. In case anyone is wondering.

#ptsd #neurodivergence #trauma #politics #the horrors #alex jones

[sungbeam]

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐖 — 01

part one: heaven only knows where you've been

nonidol!lee sangyeon x fem!reader

2.1k words, est. relationship au, fluff, romance, swear words, low-key just ooey-gooey, proposal au; sangyeon knows that you're the one, and he's ready to run headfirst into forever with you.

a/n: this was supposed to be a full oneshot LMAO but i'm trying to see if people like it enough for me to continue (_ _;) the motivation has been very low lately y'all

IT was the summer after his senior year of university that Lee Sangyeon knew he was going to marry you.

He was among the few out of your big group of mutual friends to graduate this year, and instead of a high school-esque grad party, all of you decided to book rooms at one of the fancy ass hotels downtown and live like royalty for a weekend.

It had been in the maknaes' room that everyone gathered round to play a game of One Night Werewolf, armchairs and desk chairs and pillows dragged over toward the couch in the living room of their suite. Jacob's phone sat in the center of the glass coffee table, silenced now that the round had ended in an explosion of disbelief.

"NOOOOO!"

"I knew it! I fucking knew it—"

"I cannot believe she pulled a Chanhee."

All of the commotion was directed toward you, who sat innocently on the couch, squeezed between Jacob's and Younghoon's partners. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin glowed with a beautiful, warm flush, your grin lighting up the room. Victory sang loudly in your eyes, and goddamn, if Sangyeon didn't find you so alluringly attractive even if you just fooled the entire group to win the game.

You could only shrug, fiddling with your Tanner card. Even your inherent modesty couldn't suppress the smile on your face. You tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Look, you guys know I can't lie to save my life," you said, "so this one's on you for just assuming I was a werewolf."

Sunwoo and Eric grumbled their reluctant agreement, followed by everyone else.

Sangyeon didn't know what it was about you tonight—or rather, you every night, every minute of every day—but if he could spend the rest of his life chasing that beautiful smile, then he could die a happy man. There was something so attractive about the simple, yet genius way you knew how to manipulate your own weaknesses into a strength, to wield it like a blade. It was effortless.

Changmin was groaning again, bickering back and forth with Chanhee about "influencing your tactic", mainly because Chanhee had committed a similar act to you in the very first round (except, Chanhee was actually a very skilled liar, unlike you). Somebody was going around collecting everyone's cards to shuffle up and start up a new game, and in the midst of all the madness, you felt a pair of eyes on you.

You turned your head, mid-laugh, and met Sangyeon's pair of shining crescent moons. Your posture and gaze softened, but your smile widened. It had been three years (and counting) since he first asked you out, since he asked you to be his. He'd been relatively quiet this round, and so you mouthed to him with your head tilted to the side, 'Everything okay?'

A smile pressed into his cheeks. 'Everything's perfect.'

It wasn't until two years later that Sangyeon announced to Jacob and Kevin that he was going to propose. The three of them had been hanging out at Kevin's place watching a baseball game on TV, their bodies lounging on recliners with drinks in their hands.

Kevin fell completely out of his chair at the news, while Jacob's eyes went comically wide. "FINALLY!" Kevin squawked from the floor, grunting as he hauled himself back up into his chair while massaging his sore backside with a grimace.

Sangyeon raised his eyebrows, reaching up to cup the back of his neck. "What's that supposed to mean?" He laughed nervously. Had you said something to Kevin before?

Kevin deadpanned at him. "Dude, respectfully, if you weren't going to wife her up anytime soon, I was gonna do it for you!"

Sangyeon's mouth opened to retort, quite furiously, he might add—but Jacob wisely put both his hands up to physically step in for damage control.

"What he meant to say," Jacob said with a pointed look at a sheepish Kevin, "was that we are very happy for you, hyung. When's it happening?"

Ah. Well… Sangyeon winced to himself, knocking back a bit of alcohol. "Okay, I don't have all the details worked out—"

Kevin slapped his hand to his forehead. "You don't even have the ring, do you?"

"No—"

Even Jacob covered his mouth. "He doesn't even have the ring."

With a melodramatic whimper, Kevin shook with a feigned sob. "If you liked it, then you should've put a ring on it."

Sangyeon sighed, eyes rolling up to the ceiling. To be honest, he thought telling Jacob and Kevin first was the smart choice, but then again, if he went to any of his friends and told them that he didn't have the ring yet, then he'd receive reactions similar to this one. Even if he went to their partners, he might get smacked around. It was simply the fate of being the eldest.

Moreover, he had only just decided he was going to propose to you. You graduated a year after him, and now you both had stable jobs. The two of you had moved in together awhile ago, but it was only at this very moment that Sangyeon let his mind wander to the "next step". Coming home to you every evening and waking up to you every morning had become his status quo, one that he was infinitely blessed with. He couldn't imagine starting and ending his days with anyone else, and perhaps both you and him had been so busy lately that neither of you could really sit down and talk about beyond.

Sure, the topic of marriage and kids had come up at some point. Sangyeon had even seen a glimpse of your wedding Pinterest board once, and you even knew the exact way he wanted to renovate your future home together. And two kids—you both wanted two kids and a dog.

Okay, so maybe the topic hadn't just come up. But it was about time that the ball kept rolling, no matter how much Sangyeon wanted to take his time with you. A part of him couldn't wait to get to 'forever' with you. No, all of him couldn't wait, not anymore.

The next day, Sangyeon went ring shopping with Kevin and Jacob in tow. Both of the latter's partners were also told to be close to their phones to give their opinions on each design choice.

Sangyeon had never thought about the ring. There were vague options that cycled through each imagined proposal concocted in his head, but none of them had stuck. It had to be perfect, though, that was all he knew and the very thing stuck at the front of his brain as he and his friends hopped from jeweler to jeweler.

Three hours, six shops, and two iced Americanos (each) later, Sangyeon hunched over a case of diamond-topped white gold bands. He wasn't very optimistic at this point, and even Jacob and Kevin had wandered over to a different section of the store to try on bracelets.

Sangyeon's eyes swept over the vast sea of sparkling jewels, each more radiant than the last. They were all either too expensive, too cheesy, or just not the one. There was also the option of going with a rock that wasn't diamond, but Sangyeon always drew himself toward the diamond section, unwilling to look anywhere else.

From his pants pocket, his phone buzzed the familiar ringtone he had set for your specific call. He dragged a hand down his face, but he couldn't help the soft, happy sigh from his mouth as he picked up. "Hey, baby. What's up?"

He nestled his phone between his ear and shoulder as he continued to judge the rows of rings in the case below.

"Love, I'm picking up dinner!" Your voice came out in sharp, strained huffs as if you were running and trying to catch your breath. "Almost missed… almost missed the train! Whoo—holy shit, I'm out of shape," you hissed.

Sangyeon chuckled when he heard you curse again and yell at someone to hold the door for you. Only when you were safely on and vocally announced that you had your butt in a seat, did he reply. "Glad you made it."

"Me too," you panted. "This is why I don't go to the gym; this is so embarrassing."

"I thought you don't go to the gym because you'd just stare at me the whole time," he teased, the corner of his lips lifting into a smirk.

You stammered on the other end of the line. "You're—you can't just say that to me in public."

He laughed a little more at that, eyes flickering around him to make sure no one was giving him a glare in the quiet shop. His attention swiftly went back to the jewel case with his eyebrows creased together. This time, however, his eyes caught the glint of one ring in particular. It was one of the many diamonds seated upon white gold bands, but this one was cut in a marquise style: a slim oval at the center with smaller diamonds branching out to create a sort of floral shape around it. There was something so simple, yet elegant about its look.

Sangyeon felt his heart leap in his chest. This one. This was the one.

"—Sangyeon? Honey, you there?"

He cleared his throat, his eyes searching the store for a sales clerk and curling his fingers toward him to signal him to come over. From the corner of his eyes, he spied Jacob and Kevin catch on and begin to make their way over, too. "Yea—yeah," he grappled, "sorry, babe, thought I saw something. What were you saying?"

He licked his lips, straightening, and grabbing the phone with his non-dominant hand so he could point out the ring to the three others surrounding him.

Jacob and Kevin could hardly contain their squeals as they grinned at each other, their hands slamming together so they could grab each other and shake the other's body.

"Oh, uh, nothing. You were just quiet for a bit… where are you, by the way? Should I wait to get dinner?"

Sangyeon mouthed, 'This one' to the sales clerk, furiously jabbing his pointer finger down at the glass case. "Uh," he winced, palm coming to his forehead as he racked his brain for a sensible answer, "I'm out with Kev and Cobie right now, but I'll be home in time for dinner. I'm okay with anything you're craving."

The sales clerk quietly retrieved the ring from the glass case, the diamonds glinting like rainbows in the shop's lighting. Sangyeon's eyes went wide as he gently took the ring in his fingers and inspected the piece.

It was gorgeous. Holy shit.

"Kev and Cobie?" You parroted. "Oh, say hi to them for me! And I'll just grab something from the Thai place down the street."

"Sounds great, baby." Sangyeon bit down hard on his lower lip as he broke into a wide, almost hysterical grin. He mouthed to the jeweler your ring size, a number he had memorized for an embarrassingly long time now. After handing the ring back over, he turned slightly away from everyone so he could finally focus on you. "Sorry, I've been a little distracted, but did you have a good day?"

He could hear the sounds of the train's robotic lady voice announcing the stop for home. Shuffling from your end, then, "That's okay," you chirped, your voice growing soft as you walked further away from hustle and bustle, and closer to the quieter street your apartment complex was on. "I know you were probably busy when I called. My day was okay, but I just—" you sighed as a door thumped closed, "—I'm just happy to be home now. Can't wait to see you."

Sangyeon could feel the tug in his chest, as if the connection between you two was pulling him, urging him home to you. "Can't wait to see you, too, Yn," he replied softly. He knocked his knuckles against one of the glass cases. "Tell you what? If you place the order, I'll just pick the food up on my way home, how's that sound? You should just rest, love."

There was another door slam on your end. "I love you," you breathed in relief.

His heart sputtered in his chest, a small laugh falling from his lips. "You know I love you more."

He could hear the smile in your voice. "This isn't a competition, Mr. Lee."

"Who said I'd ever want to compete with you?" He mused. "But just so you know, I do love you the most."

tbz m.list | possible part two?

permanent taglist: @crazywittysassy @seomisaho @stopeatread @enhacolor @rnjfy @jaehunnyy @kpopjackie @spiderrenjunfics @soobin-chois @stayarmytinyzenmoa-l @mingiholic @ja4hyvn @vatterie @yogurteume @hyunjaespresent-deobi @justalildumpling @hongyangi @pxppxrmint @nerdypastacalzonespy @jcmdoll @zhaixiaowen @wtfhyuck @winterchimez @sodafy @fluorescentloves @tinkerbell460 @kflixnet

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[endless-summer-soldier]

ice ice baby - chapter ten

pairing: CollegeHockeyPlayer!Bucky x CollegeFigureSkater!Reader

summary: Bucky is a college hockey player, Y/N is a figure skater without a partner. What's happens when these two opposites start sharing the ice...

warnings: enemies to lovers trope, some alcohol use

word count: 4.3k

 taglist: @sebsgirl71479 @whiskeyrosepoetry

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series masterlist

The team stood on the ice, idling in place as a member of the university acapella group sang the national anthem. It was the first round of the playoffs and Bucky was doing his best to fight off the nerves. He caught Y/N’s eye in the stands and smiled at her, excited that she was there to support him. But her presence made him more nervous because he wanted to impress her.

As the anthem ended and the crowd broke out into applause, the team skated to the sidelines for a drink of water to prepare for the start of the game. Then, an announcement came over the PA system.

“And now we have a very special presentation honoring all our graduating seniors.”

Bucky looked up at the screen in surprise. He peered around to his teammates, but their eyes were all glued to the screen. 

The first message was from Steve’s parents, talking about how proud they were of him and wishing him luck in the game. Then Sam’s sister and his nephews appeared, smiling big and gushing over Sam. As the messages continued, Bucky wondered who his message would be from. It could be from his mother, but they weren’t terribly close. Maybe his younger sister, but he hadn’t spoken with her in a while. His question was answered a moment later when he saw Y/N’s face on the screen.

“Hey Buck,” she smiled at the camera, “I don’t know if you realize how much of an impact you have had on me over the past few months. First you swooped in and saved me by agreeing to be my partner. You persevered through my perfectionism and high standards, impressing both of us, which is when you gained my trust. And then, you pushed me outside of my comfort zone. Aside from my mother, you are the only person that has challenged me to try new things and to just stop and appreciate life every so often. Now, I’m not a very sentimental person and I’m terrible at expressing my feelings, but I mean it when I say that I love you.” 

She gave one more genuine smile at the camera and Bucky subconsciously placed his hand over his heart. He looked up to find her in the crowd and she was already peering down at him, her bottom lip wedged between her teeth. She was nervous about putting herself out there. Bucky gave her the toothiest grin and mouthed “I love you too.” She drew a heart in the air with her two pointer fingers and smiled back at him. Now he was ready to play.

In the last period, the game was tied 2-2. Bucky was playing extremely well. He had to admit, his figure skating lessons had improved his speed and technique, and his opponents weren’t ready for it. 

The clock was ticking down under the two minute mark, and something had to happen. Bucky was not letting this game go into overtime. He looked toward Coach Selvig and made a small T with his hands, signaling for a timeout. Selvig nodded and called for time as the team skated over to the bench.

“I’ve got something,” Bucky told the coach. He dropped his gloves to snag the small white board and marker, drawing out the play he had in mind. As he looked around, his teammates were nodding and Solvig held a thoughtful hand to his chin.

“That could work,” he approved. The team took one final sip of water and then the whistle called them back to the ice. Clint positioned himself in the small circle for the faceoff while everyone else circled around the ice. 

The puck dropped and Clint flicked the puck to Peter, who sped down the ice. Bucky and Steve shielded him on either side, keeping defenders out of his way. Peter looked toward the goal and took a fake shot while actually passing the puck to Sam. Sam skated around the back of the net and attempted to sneak the puck into the corner of the goal. One of the defenders saw it happening too quickly, and got a stick on the shot. The puck spun out toward Steve and he effortlessly collected it, skating around to reset the offense. Bucky gave him space, skating back towards the neutral zone to get a read on possible plays. Clint moved opposite Steve and attempted to get open, but Steve didn’t have many options. He passed the puck back to Sam when Bucky saw an opportunity. He skated in to protect Sam, planning to slam the defender into the ice. But Sam had a different idea.

He passed the puck just ahead of where Bucky was skating to and Bucky sped up to claim it. He was expecting a defender to put some pressure on him any second now, but the moment never came. Bucky continued skating to a wide open goal and found he was playing chicken with the goalie. He leaned toward the right, waiting for the goalie to shift, and as soon as he did, Bucky took a shot to the left. The shot clinked off the goalpost and flew into the back of the net. The lights flashed above the goal and Bucky glanced up at the scoreboard. With a mere 15 seconds left, this game was as good as over.

His teammates pulled him into a tight group hug and he heard the crowd going wild. The refs broke up the celebration and asked the players to reset, preparing for the final faceoff. Clint stood in the middle of the circle and easily won the puck, passing to Steve who skated in a figure eight to kill the time. The air horn blew, calling for the final time and the team celebrated once again. They shook hands with the other team and the opposition quickly filed off the ice. The fans were tossing teddy bears, scarves, and mittens onto the ice to celebrate the team. 

Solvig approached Bucky and gave him a pat on the back before letting him know the broadcast crew wanted to do a quick interview with him. He skated over to the edge of the rink and answered a few basic questions from the anchor. As much as he was loving the victory, all he could think about was Y/N. He wanted to squeeze her tight in his big arms and tell her he loved her over and over again. As he skated away, he saw her standing behind the glass, smiling at him. 

“Come here,” he mouthed and motioned. She looked toward the bench, figuring out how to get past the glass and acted before thinking. She jumped over the barrier onto the bench, and then used the little door to let herself onto the ice. She was surprised to find she didn’t even bother to consider the consequences of this action. She honestly didn’t care if she was forcibly removed from the ice, she just wanted to be with Bucky. 

She trode carefully on the ice in her boots, and Bucky did most of the work, striding toward her with little effort. 

“There you are,” he said, cupping her face with his hands.

“You were amazing. I’m so proud of you!”

“Really?” He said reflexively. It had been a long time since someone said those words to him.

“Of course. Now I can brag to anyone that will listen about my stud of a boyfriend who scored the game winning goal in the playoffs.”

He smiled and bit his bottom lip as a blush spread to his cheeks, “Oh boyfriend, huh?”

“Don’t tell me now you have a problem with labels. I just announced to this whole stadium that I love you!”

He placed a hand around her waist and leaned in close, whispering “I love labels. Almost as much as I love you.” He closed the gap between them in a passionate kiss as her hand found the back of his neck. He leaned her back into a dip and she squealed in his mouth in surprise. 

“Get a room!” Sam yelled. They separated and Bucky returned her to vertical, before telling Sam to shut up. 

“Now the real question is, how are we celebrating?”

T W O  Y E A R S  L A T E R

“I can’t believe this is really happening,” Y/N whispered to Bucky. The two were dressed head-to-toe in red and blue Ralph Lauren layers that consisted of a sweater donning the American flag, a buffalo plaid puffer, blue and red boots, and navy blue beanies with the American Olympic Committee logo. The only difference in their ensembles was that Y/N had on a pair of sleek navy leggings, while Bucky was in white snow pants.

“I feel…puffy…” she managed to say.

“Well you look adorable. You know I can’t resist you in a beanie,” he said, planting a wet kiss on her cheek.

She blushed before pushing him away, reminding him that they were about to walk out with the rest of their country representatives. It was the opening ceremonies for the Olympics and all that was required of them for tonight was to walk out with their flag, smile, and wave at the crowd. Yet this was the moment that everything hit Y/N; not only was her dream coming true, but she was doing it with Bucky at her side. 

As much as she would’ve loved to compete with Bucky, it wasn’t possible with his hockey schedule. She found another partner who skated well and was easy to work with. She still turned to Bucky for music recommendations, wanting to keep the crowd and judges on the edge of their seats.

Bucky had made the US hockey team with ease. He’d been playing in the minor league and practicing with the national team whenever warranted. He was drafted by the Boston Bruins after graduation and was scheduled to start practicing with the team following the Olympic games.

Y/N had been training in Lake Placid, which was close enough to Boston for them to see each other when they had free time. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked fine. Bucky’s latest campaign was for Y/N to move to Boston and move in with him after the Olympics. She wasn’t convinced just yet. She had to figure out what her next step was career wise. This would likely be her only Olympics but she wasn’t quite ready to hang up her skates. 

“This is it,” Bucky interrupted her thoughts and grasped her hand, as they prepared for the big stage.

She turned to him and said, “No one I’d rather have by my side.”

Y/N had her headphones in and was stretching in an attempt to release the stress she was currently harboring. She was next up to skate and was feeling more nervous than she expected. This was the biggest stage she’d ever skated on and she was trying not to let the pressure get the best of her.

She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to find her partner Scott, smiling at her. If he was nervous, he wasn’t showing it. He asked if she was ready because they were on next and she merely nodded. The routine was great, but technically challenging. Even the slightest misstep could ruin the whole thing. She pulled herself together and followed Scott to their on deck position.

She was practicing her deep breathing to center herself when Scott nudged her arm ever so slightly. She turned to him, curiously and he merely pointed out toward the crowd. Y/N peered out into the crowd and found the entire USA hockey team seated behind the judges at the top few rows of the arena. Her mouth turned upward into a smile when she saw Bucky leading the pack with a “Y/N for Gold” poster above his head. He never ceased to amaze her. After two years of being together, he still managed to pull off the perfect surprises. The butterflies in her stomach never quite went away when he was around. He caught her gaze and gave her a thumbs up as if to say “You’ve got this.” She carefully placed her fingers to her lips and blew him a gentle kiss. Bucky caught the symbolic kiss in his fist before placing it over his heart. 

Y/N turned to Scott with a nod and said, “I’m ready.”

Everything was a blur. Y/N and Scott completed the routine, but she did so without thinking about it. It was like she was commuting to work and all the sudden she pulled into the parking lot, realizing she hadn’t paid any attention to how she got there. On ice, the specifics of the routine weren’t on her mind; she was thinking about Bucky and the first time they skated together. It was a mess, he was all over the place. And yet, they built something out of nothing. Her mind then drifted to their routine at nationals. Bucky pushed her out of her comfort zone, creating an edge over the competition she didn’t realize was possible. Being on the ice with him that day felt magical. The only time she had felt like that before was the first time she skated with her mom. Now, being here on the biggest stage imaginable, she realized that the competition didn’t matter. All that mattered was her happiness. And Bucky gave her that.

She was released from her thoughts when Scott shook her shoulders and smiled at her. She mirrored his expression before glancing up at the rankings, where she saw their names at the top of the board, claiming the highest score of the competition so far. She glanced up into the crowd and saw the US hockey team cheering wildly and all she wanted was to climb up those stands and throw her arms around Bucky. 

Before she knew it, she was standing on the podium and they were placing an Olympic gold medal around her neck. This was the moment she had dreamed about her whole life, and yet something was missing. She smiled for the cameras and teared up imagining her mother cheering her on in the afterlife, but what she really wanted was Bucky by her side.

After the medal ceremony, there were several news interviews that she took with Scott and she provided the generic responses she had mentally rehearsed in preparation for this moment. Apart from wanting to find Bucky, she really just felt relieved that all the build up to the competition was finally over. She could finally relax and enjoy being across the world with her person.

Once the press frenzy was over, Y/N and Scott retired to their dressing room, where they would collect their things and head to the dormitories. They were both emotionally drained from all the attention, but they still had smiles plastered on their faces.

As soon as they opened the door, Y/N first noticed the “Y/N for Gold” sign propped up against the vanity and then she found Bucky sitting in her chair, phone out but head turned toward her. In a millisecond, he was up and had Y/N spinning off the ground in his arms.

“There’s my superstar!” he gushed, squeezing her as tight as he could. “You crushed it out there, Ace!”

When he put her down, he greeted Scott with a fist bump and complimented him on a flawless routine. Scott quickly collected his things and announced that he would head back so that they could have some time alone with each other, much to the couple’s appreciation.

Y/N nuzzled into Bucky’s shoulder, happy to be in his arms again.

“Can I tell you something?” he asked.

“Of course.”

“Watching you skate today took my breath away. I’ve seen you skate before, but it’s different being with you on the ice. I was always focused more on what my next move was. But tonight, I was able to focus all my attention on you and you were absolutely incredible. I love that I was able to be here to see years of hard work pay off. I am so unbelievably proud of you.” He kissed the top of her head and pulled her in closer.

His words were so genuine and kind that she didn’t know how to react. The only thing she could manage back was, “I love you so much.” She pulled her head off his shoulder and planted a sweet kiss on his lips. As they separated, Bucky held her eyes for a moment and he never felt so connected or so in love. 

“You know what, fuck it,” he muttered to himself. Y/N looked at him, confused, and it was only when he held her hands and got down on one knee did she realize what was happening.

“I had a whole plan for how I was going to do this. We were going to go out to a beautiful dinner on a yacht and the server would bring out a chocolate mousse for dessert and right on top would be the ring. But something about this moment just feels right. You’re standing in front of me in your team USA tracksuit with a gold medal around your neck and all I can think about is how desperately I want to marry you. And please know I don’t want to overshadow your Olympic victory at all, I just can’t spend another day calling you my girlfriend when I want you to be my fiance. So, Y/F/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?”

The tears had started dropping before he was finished. It wasn’t until Bucky lifted his eyebrows that she realized she hadn’t responded.

“Yes, absolutely yes. I would love to marry you.”

He nearly jumped up from his knee to pick her up and smother her with kisses. 

“I love you so much. Did I say that? I don’t think I said that,” Bucky rambled.

“I know Bucky. I love you too.”

He carefully put her down and slid the ring onto her delicate finger.

“Can we still go to dinner on the yacht? Because that sounds really lovely.”

He chuckled, “Hell yeah we’re still doing that. Now we have a reason to celebrate.”

“Okay good. We should get out of here though, you have a big game tomorrow.”

“Yeah okay, but only if you stay and cuddle with me tonight.”

“Now you know I can’t say no to my fiance,” she smiled up at him. He planted a kiss on her head before they collected her things and headed out.

Y/N was seated in the stands, a few rows behind the team, dressed in her team USA gear. The hockey team was warming up to face Canada, a major rival in Olympic hockey. USA and Canada had a history of facing each other in the gold medal game, and this year was no different. She sat there, twisting her engagement ring in an attempt to calm her nerves. Bucky was so close to achieving his goal and she wanted it so badly for him. He was the reason all her dreams came true and he deserved to win something too.

“Excuse me, are you Y/N?” An older man approached her side with a woman who she assumed was his wife. 

“Yes, I am,” she responded.

He extended his hand, “Hi, I’m Joe Rogers and this is my wife, Sarah. We’re Steve’s parents.”

Her expression changed from confused to delight, “Oh, hi! So great to meet you.”

“We’ve heard a lot about you,” Sarah said. 

“Likewise! I should probably thank you for all the support you’ve shown Bucky. He’s spoken so highly about you both and I know he wouldn’t be here today without you.”

“He’s always been a good kid, he just fell into the wrong group. Watching him grow up to be a wonderful young man has been priceless,” Joe said. It warmed my heart that they spoke so highly of Bucky.

“How lucky are we that our Stevie and James both made the team!” Sarah exclaimed. 

“Those two are inseparable. I don’t think they would’ve been able to function being apart for this long,” Y/N added. On top of both making the USA team, they had both been drafted by the Bruins.

Sarah and Joe chuckled and they continued chatting like old friends, keeping Y/N’s mind off her game day nerves. But that only lasted until the opening face off; once the puck was in play, she started twisting her ring again.

Into the third period, the score was 0-0. Both teams were playing extremely well on both sides of the ice, and both goalies saved several shots on goal. While Bucky and Steve were both playing really well, they had nothing to show for it on the scoreboard. It was easy to see why the two had been drafted together; they had a connection on the ice that was telepathic, each knowing exactly where the other was and what they were thinking.

And then, out of nowhere, Canada scored a goal. It happened so quickly that Y/N nearly missed it. One of the players took a shot on the goal and the puck skimmed one of his teammates skates, changing the angle ever so slightly that the goalie didn’t pick up on. It was rotten luck, but sometimes that happened in ice hockey.

There were only three minutes left in the game, but that was more than enough time. It only took a few seconds to score, but the team would have to keep the puck on the offensive side of the ice. Team USA pulled their goalie and added another man on the ice, knowing it wouldn’t make a difference if Canada scored again. 

They did a great job moving the puck around and clearing out space for their teammates, but the goalie stopped every attempt at a goal. This didn’t discourage the team, as they continued to attack on offense, but as the clock ticked down, the reality of the situation was setting in. The final buzzer rang and team Canada circled up in a big group hug. Y/N watched Bucky look up at the scoreboard before hanging his head in defeat.

“They put up such a good fight. At least they can be proud of how they played,” Sarah said. Y/N nodded, agreeing with her statement but knowing Bucky would still be crushed.

“A silver medal is still a great accomplishment,” Joe added.  

Both teams took off their helmets and lined up on the ice to receive their medals. The Canadians were all smiles while the Americans put on a brave face, but the disappointment was evident behind their eyes. Y/N couldn’t help but tear up a little when Bucky received his silver medal. It wasn’t exactly the outcome they wanted, but she was still incredibly proud of him for coming this far and never giving up.

Once the medal ceremony was over, both teams retreated to the locker room. Joe and Sarah asked Y/N if she wanted to go with them to meet Steve but she passed, knowing Bucky would want some space to process everything before socializing. She sat in the empty arena and watched the zamboni smooth the ice, wondering what she could say to cheer up Bucky.

Once a sufficient amount of time had passed, Y/N wandered out of the arena to find the locker rooms. She poked her head behind the door labeled Team USA and found silence. She took that as a sign to continue and wandered through the rows of lockers, looking for her fiance. She found him lying on the bench, staring at the ceiling tiles, recently showered and dressed in his team USA track suit.

“Hey you,” she said, taking a seat next to his head. Her hands instinctively found their way to the side of his face and she started lightly playing with his hair.

He didn’t say anything, but his eyes floated upwards to find her. 

“Let me see it,” she demanded.

“See what?”

“Your medal!”

“It’s not as cool as yours,” he said, handing her the silver medal that had been tucked in his palm.

“Honestly, this will make for a more interesting display in the house. We’ve got two out of three!.”

“It’s not even about the medal. Or losing for that matter.”

“What’s it about then?”

He let out a deep exhale before he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bench so he was almost facing her.

“When you won that gold medal, I felt so full. I was proud of you and I was grateful that I was there to witness your achievement. And I wanted you to feel that way today with me. I wanted to see you smiling in the crowd as they put the gold medal around my neck.”

He hung his head and Y/N leaned into his shoulder and grabbed his hands.

“Bucky, I had that moment today. Despite my best efforts, I cried a little bit when you received your medal. Of course I am proud of you. I’m proud of you for just making it to the Olympics. Winning a medal is even more amazing. And most of all, I’m proud that you never gave up. You left everything you had out there on the ice. I know you didn’t get the outcome you expected, but there is still so much that you should be proud of.”

He turned to her, “How do you always know the perfect thing to say?” 

She placed a hand on his cheek, “Because I know you Buck. And I love you more than anything.”

He leaned into her and they shared a kiss that embodied their emotional connection. When the moment felt right, Y/N stood up and held her hand out for Bucky. He took it without hesitation and the two walked hand in hand out of the locker room.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get your gold medal,” she offered, as her final words of comfort.

“Don’t be sorry, I’ve got my gold medal right here.”  

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