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jungkookstatts · 8 months

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Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number.

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.”

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can.

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.”

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex’s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.”

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.”

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear.

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?”

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.”

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him.

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together.

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.”

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?”

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?”

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all.

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart.

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook.

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience.

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.”

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?”

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.”

“Well, do you?”

“Of course, I masturbate.”

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?”

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl.

“Well, do you?”

You roll your eyes.

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.”

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.”

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh.

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,”

“Huh?”

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?!

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go.

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.”

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?”

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting.

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely.

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says.

You feel your heart sink to your stomach.

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.”

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this.

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch.

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!”

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain.

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.”

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice."

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once.

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before.

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently.

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms.

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body.

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away.

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.”

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb.

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently.

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.”

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this.

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again.

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you.

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.”

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.”

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.”

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first.

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment.

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you.

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.”

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own.

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own.

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good.

“Kook,” you whine against his lips.

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs.

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first.

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this.

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time.

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you.

“Please,” he gives you permission.

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious.

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous.

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book.

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second.

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time.

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt.

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more.

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly.

“Can I?” he asks again.

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper.

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you.

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face.

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud.

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him.

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair.

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg.

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue.

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.”

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again.

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat.

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek.

“Okay,” he smiles.

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer.

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you.

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?”

“Like a dildo?” you clarify.

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you.

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.”

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his.

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s.

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.”

“I can see why,” you exhale.

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand.

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.”

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick.

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face.

“Shut up,” you smile.

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look.

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.”

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.”

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body.

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle.

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions.

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to.

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.”

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question.

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his.

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.”

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles.

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so.

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same.

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance.

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you.

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea.

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace.

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues.

“S’ this okay?” he asks you.

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.”

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before.

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin.

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request.

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop.

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?”

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position.

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?”

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy.

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry.

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer.

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?”

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–”

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own.

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,” he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.”

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once.

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.”

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.”

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you.

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly.

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?”

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response.

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard.

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear.

“You okay?” he asks you gently.

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this.

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back.

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him.

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks.

“Only if the feeling is mutual.”

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

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arctrooper69 · 3 months

Text

As Iron Sharpens Iron

"As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another." Proverbs 27:17

Beta-read by @dragonrider9905

Chapter 1:

Previous // Next

Warnings: Jealousy. Brief mention of blood. Canon violence.

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

You couldn't even look at her.

That thought alone made you sick to your stomach. The fact that you couldn't bear to look at a woman simply because she was interested in the same man that you were, made you want to cry.

Am I really that shallow? You thought bitterly as you slammed the hydrospanner into the damaged component of the landing gear you’d been trying to dislodge.

I can’t believe I was so stupid! You jammed the point of the tool violently into a crack, trying to pry it out. Of course he’d go for her. She was prettier than you - funnier too.

You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath.

Hunter is his own man. He likes someone else. Not a big deal.

Except for some reason, judging by the heavy ache in your chest, it was a big deal, no matter how much you tried to fool yourself into thinking that everything was fine.

The landing gear piece was still stuck fast. You set down the hydrospanner and picked up the plasma cutter.

This better kriffing work or I’ll have Tech up my ass for a month about it. Not to mention having to tell Hunter that I broke the ship. Again.

You ran your fingers over the healing scar on your cheek and looked at the carbon scoring around the piece that stuck fast, fused in place by laser fire.

A smile made its way across your face as you remembered how it all happened. You were providing cover fire so they'd have time to escape - more exposed than you'd like to be, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle - until a stray shot hit the ship at just the right angle.

Hunter had tackled you to the ground, shielding you from the blast with his own body.

Despite the chaos around you, being in his arms felt safe.

“Don’t ever do that again!” It was meant to be an order but it felt different than any of the others he’d given over the past year. The way he’d taken your face into his hands, carefully examining the small, insignificant wound on your cheek. His face was unreadable but as you’d looked closer, his eyes were a whirlwind of relief that you hadn’t been hurt worse. There was something else there too - something that fed the hope hidden away in your core that your feelings toward him were reciprocated. He’d kept his hand on your arm as you stood up. They were strong, steady hands that kept you warm and stayed on your arm seconds longer than the moment demanded.

But then you’d found him in a closet with Phee’s sister only hours later at Cid’s parlour.

I’m so stupid. How could I have read him so wrong? What made me think I’d ever have a chance with a man like Hunter? You shook your head, angry at yourself for letting your guard down. For the first time since the beginning of the Clone Wars, you’d felt alive in a way that didn’t involve throwing yourself into violently dangerous situations. You felt at home with this band of misfit clones. You had finally allowed yourself to feel and acknowledge the emotions that came with it. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done that before. It was stupid and you would make sure that it wouldn’t happen again.

Finishing with the plasma cutter, you brought a wrench down hard with a loud clang. The piece barely moved an inch and you threw the tool down with a frustrated groan.

“You okay over there?” Phee poked her head around the corner, eyebrow raised.

“I’m good!” You grinned, hoping the faux smile would keep her from asking anymore questions. “Just trying to get this stubborn kriffing piece out so Tech can replace it when he gets back.”

Phee chuckled as you glared at the offending part. She walked over to the side of the ship, looking up and down at the stripped landing gear.

“Damn… what’d you guys get into this time?”

It was your turn to chuckle, grateful for the distraction from your spiraling negativity.

“That is a very complicated story,” Tech answered for you as he rounded the corner, “However, I do not currently have the time to tell it. We have another mission from Cid and should be leaving as soon as we’ve made our repairs.”

Good, you thought. Another mission might be just what you needed to get out of your head and back into the groove of things. Back to normal.

Tech stopped next to Phee in front of the landing gear, surveying the mess of tools and ship components. He frowned. “Although, it seems as though that may take a bit longer than I originally thought.”

He grabbed the hydrospanner from the ground by your feet and began prying at the piece you’d been working on. “I will fix this. You pick up the tools and get that carbon scoring off of those panels.”

Phee grinned as she began helping you scrape. “I love it when you get all bossy like that, Brown-Eyes.”

Tech’s cheeks darkened, the only indicator that he’d heard her at all.

You smirked. Tech and Phee were so different from each other. Her carefree sense of adventure and aptitude for playing fast and loose with the rules seemed opposite to Tech’s academic personality and rigid structure. But despite their differences, they seemed to bond over an innate sense of curiosity and wonder. They belonged together.

Like Hunter and I should be, you thought bitterly.

The silence that fell on the group as you worked was deafening. Every so often you caught Phee pausing to watch as Tech worked his magic with the repairs.

Tech remained oblivious, but found himself sending subtle glances towards her as she worked. Every glance felt like daggers through your chest. A reminder of what could have been yours.

“How’s it looking, Tech?” Hunter walked around the corner, setting a crate of explosives down for Wrecker to load onto the ship.

The knife you’d been using to scrape the panel suddenly felt heavy and clumsy in your hand. It slipped through your fingers as you frantically tried to catch it but failed as it hit the ground with a dull thud.

You gasped as a thin line of blood blossomed across your pointer finger and the palm of your hand.

“Kriff!” you grumbled under your breath. Hunter stepped forward quickly only to be intercepted by Phee who grabbed your injured hand, inspecting it.

“Eh, you’re fine,” she pulled a bacta patch from her pocket, quickly wrapping the injury as though she’d done it more than her fair share of times. “Be more careful with that next time,” she chided. You looked up expecting to see Hunter but he was gone.

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vixstarria · 6 months

Text

Something real

I thought I’d play around with an Astarion POV and this is what happened.

Connected with my other headcanon fics, would take place after this one, but before the end of this one. You don’t have to read them for this to make sense though. (But you totally should!)

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Bard Tav, soft Astarion, Astarion POV

Comfort, fluff, budding love, banter, humour, Act 1 spoilers, non-explicit, light angst, probably too much swearing

Approximately 2,000 words.

You were lying alone by the fire, waiting for her to join you, trying once again to untangle the mess this woman made in your head.

What exactly were you, to each other?

Were you just temporary travelling companions having meaningless sex for stress relief?

Or were you lovers in the more literal sense of that word?

And is that what you wanted..? To be someone’s, whom you could call your own? To have something real..?

It should have been simple, except the lines kept shifting and blurring. And needless to say, this wasn’t at all what you had initially intended.

All you knew was, this deliciously ambiguous time at the end of your evenings, when you just talked – this was your favourite time of day.

You were restless with anticipation, now that everyone else had finally gone to sleep or was shuffling around in their tents.

Except she was nowhere to be seen.

You could always slip into her tent, she might even have been waiting for you there now – but then you'd most likely wind up putting on the ‘seductive lusty lover’ mask, and as fun as that was, it’s not what you wanted right now.

You were getting impatient.

You wondered just how undignified and out of character it would be to simply go to her tent and lure her out on some pretense, like the stars being particularly bright, or some similar horseshit. You glanced at the sky. The stars weren’t even visible.

Fuck. ...Well, she’d just laugh at that anyway.

But lo and behold, there she was at last, plundered bottle of wine in hand. You bit your tongue to avoid addressing her with any of your habitual epithets, for which she’d rebuked you on numerous occasions, but she went ahead and did it for you herself anyway:

“Here I am! The wind beneath your wings, the rose among your thorns! The fire in your furnace, the... uh... help me out here, will you?”

“The biting canines in my buttock.”

“There we go! A touch predictable, but no less eloquent for it.”

She sat down, right next to your head, stretching her legs out towards the fire, and gave you a searching and expectant look, not saying anything.

You raised a quizzical eyebrow back at her.

“Well come on, scooch up,” she said with a playful smile on her lips.

You lifted slightly on your elbows and laid your head in her lap.

This is new.

“Can I offer you something to drink?” she asked, waving a wrist, and then the wine in the other hand suggestively at you.

“Not tonight, dear,” you chuckled. “I had quite a successful boar hunt while the rest of you were playing hero in the foothills.”

“Suit yourself.” She took a drink straight from the bottle and stared off into the fire, her other hand absentmindedly running through your hair. You resisted the urge to lean further into her touch.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked after the silence went on a touch too long.

“I would like you to explain something to me.” she said quietly.

You instinctively tensed, your mind racing, wondering what you could have possibly done or let slip.

“...Why in the fuck do you lot listen to and take directions from me? Do none of you realize I’m just a shit-talking clown and have no idea what I’m doing?” the tone of her voice was flat.

...Ah. That.

“This ‘clown’ led us unscathed through a subversive operation in a goblin camp. Mostly via shit-talking. You even convinced one of them to lick your boot!” you shook your head incredulously. “Give yourself credit where it’s due. Do you think anyone else here could have pulled that off?”

I probably could have. Wouldn’t. But could have.

She took a swig from the bottle, considering your question. “Well you definitely could have done the same. You’d just choose not to. ...why are you laughing?”

“Never mind that. Would you like me to take over for you, darling?”

“Good heavens, no!” she grimaced in mock horror. “Just stay at my side, as my moral compass.”

“Your moral compass?”

“When in doubt, I ask myself ‘What would Astarion do?’, and do the opposite. Usually that’s good enough to keep everyone happy and keep bloodshed to a minimum.”

You’re not wrong.

“But gods it’s been exhausting...” she was sombre again. “They all want something, and they all think their problem is the most urgent. ‘We must go to the creche – no, we must go to Moonrise – no, but my heart will explode – no, but I and everything around me will explode’” she was getting riled up, gesticulating with the bottle in her hand. You were worried it would fly out of her grip. She paused to collect herself.

“At least your demands are too insane to entertain in the first place,” she continued with a weary grin. “‘Embrace the tadpole, take over a cult, fight squirrels, commit genocide’” - she did her best to mimic your manner of speaking, then rolled her eyes and took another swig from the bottle.

“Never know where a little thinking outside the box might lead you, dear.” I just want my freedom, whatever it takes. ...And that squirrel was looking at you funny. “And you? What do you want?”

“A hot bath, new lute strings, and a cat to cuddle,” she answered without hesitation.

You couldn’t think of anything better than to emit a very convincing meow.

It must have taken her by surprise - she glanced down at you, eyes wide, before bursting out laughing and scratching you behind the ear.

You hated to admit it, but you were very pleased with yourself, making her laugh like that.

“My pointy-eared feline predator,” she murmured, looking into your eyes and smiling, as she slowly and delicately ran her finger along the edge of your ear, right to the tip, which felt... divine, actually.

This... this was too intimate for someone you just had meaningless sex with, right?

You heard some rustling and footsteps nearby, too casual to be an intruder, probably just someone walking off to relieve themselves.

She jerked her hand away from you, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, and actually made a motion as if to get up, before you stopped her with a gentle hand on her wrist, still lying with your head in her lap.

“Hey... Hold on... Now you explain something to me. Earlier today, you burst into camp covered in hyena entrails, yelled ‘My star!’, threw yourself on me, legs and arms and all, like some deranged monkey, and made me spin you around, kissing you. ...But this is what embarrasses you?”

“That was putting on a silly act,” she said sheepishly. “And this is...” she faltered, looking for the right words.

Real..?

“Not intended for anyone else’s eyes.”

Real.

"Well everyone can direct their eyes elsewhere, then,” you responded, unable to contain a smile.

It’s real.

...Ahah!

“Oh, and you’re absolutely adorable, by the way,” you added.

She flicked you lightly on the nose and looked away. Was she blushing?

“Anyway. It’s Gale that worries me the most.”

Fucking Gale.

“He said the last artifact he consumed hardly did anything. He doesn’t know how much longer he can contain it. He’s inconsolable.” she continued.

“Perhaps we should all stop worrying and embrace the orb explosion. At least that will mean we won’t have to deal with anything else, ever.” you suggested. This was helpful, right?

“I wish I could do something to help, or at least get his mind off it for a while.”

Of course you do, you bleeding heart.

“And how might you ‘get his mind off it’, exactly?”

“I think we should seduce him,” she looked you straight in the eyes and said in a deadpan manner.

Oh, sliding off a serious topic straight back into fuckery with a straight face, are we? I know that game very well.

“Darling, even without the orb, he would literally explode if you held eye contact with him a second too long. He’s been pining for you since you pulled him out of that rock.” You waved a dismissive hand in Gale’s general direction. “The kindest thing you can do for him is give all your undivided attention to me, so he never has a glimmer of hope.”

Bloody Gale with his manicured beard, puppydog eyes and cooking skills...

“Well, while we’re on the topic, I still think we should seduce someone, to spice camp life up a bit. How about Lae’zel?” she continued.

“Lae’zel would skewer both of us if we approached her.”

...and his warm hands...

“Shadowheart?”

“...You know, I’m pretty sure Lae’zel would skewer us for that, too. Perhaps all three of us, on the same blade.”

...and his ability to find kind and empathetic words in any situation. ...Shame about the orb though.

“What about...” she grinned, “daddy Halsin?”

You exchanged a meaningful look.

Ha! Well there’s a curious thought. I wonder if he could contain himself, or if he would turn into a bear. How... dangerous.

“Let’s revisit that thought later.” you said pensively.

“Karlach is impossible, of course...” she continued. “That leaves Wyll.”

“Oh please,” you chortled. “Even if he wasn’t depressed over the whole... demonic horns and abducted parent conundrum. He strikes me as the ‘wait until marriage’ type. And he’d want to do the seducing himself.”

“I’m not so sure about the marriage part. He would keep it proper and gentlemanly though.” she thoughtfully tapped her lower lip with a finger. “Multiple extravagant dates to impress his sweetheart before making any moves, the whole shabang. You wouldn’t want him to try to sweep you off your feet?”

“Just me? No no, we are in this together.” you remarked. “And he could certainly afford to woo us both at once, being the son of a duke.”

“Weeks of wining and dining us, waiting for the fires of ‘true love’ to fully ignite...” she said contemplatively, gazing into the fire.

“Smothering us with red roses, romantic moonlit carriage rides and ballroom dancing...” you copied her tone.

“Until finally railing you on a grand piano one day, while I whipped him with a switch,” she said with a devilish grin.

“You absolute uncouth filth!” it was your turn to be taken off-guard as you shook with laughter.

You incredible, ridiculous, mad thing... I would spend another year locked alone and hungry in a tomb, if it meant keeping you alive and safe.

Something in your chest twisted.

Did I really just think that?

Yes, yes I did.

You needed to stop and consider what just came into your head. And give yourself a good slap in the face. But for now, more than anything, you desperately needed to switch your brain off.

You sat up and kissed her, pulling her into an embrace.

“You crazy idiot, what am I going to do with you?” you whispered, briefly touching your forehead to hers.

“Something nasty, I hope,” she answered with a cheeky smile. But there was more warmth than lust in her eyes.

“My tent or yours?” you asked softly, trailing a finger down a bare arm.

“Do you have vials of boar blood everywhere?”

“Yes. Do you have everything you’ve collected, ever, everywhere?”

“...Yes.”

Hoarder. I would give you a whole palace to decorate, just to see what you would do with it.

Sigh... “I guess I could accommodate you for a short while.”

Please stay all night.

On a sudden whim, you swept her up in your arms as you got up, carrying her to your tent.

What in the hells was I thinking?

“Oh!” she gasped, surprised. “My... I don’t suppose you’ve got a grand piano in there?”

“We’ll have to make do with my trunk, I’m afraid.”

“And they say romance is dead.”

None of this was going according to plan.

Fuck the plan.

You felt like a cretin and a fraud as you carried her off. But you’d make it right. She deserved something better. Something real.

And so did you, godsdamnit.

I’ll tell her... Just not today.

~~~~~

Next in series - Are you mine?

This work is part of a series - here is the master list

AO3

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfic #astarion fanfic #fkn Gale

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yangfleurs · 11 months

Text

midnight mistakes. (part 2)

pt. 1

you knocked on the door in front of you, shivering and soaked to the bone from the pouring rain outside. there was no answer, and you weren't surprised considering it was already past midnight at this point. you knocked again, louder this time, hoping someone would get up to check. you waited patiently, staying in view of the peephole of the door to make sure they could see you. the door locks began to jingle suddenly, making you jump slightly.

"y/n? why are you here? I thought chan went home to you?" hyunjin asked as he opened the door, putting down the bat in his hand, "the other aren't home so I---oh my god, you must be freezing!" he gasped suddenly, ushering you into the dorm. he rushed you into chan's room and let you borrow some of the things chan left in his closet. you changed quickly into a hoodie and shorts, before coming out and meeting hyunjin in the living room.

after tossing your wet clothes in the dryer and bringing you a hot tea, hyunjin finally came to sit down next to you on the sofa.

"okay, now tell me why you're at the dorms without your boyfriend at 1 am?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.

"he kicked me out." you mumbled, sipping your tea and sinking in to the couch to sulk.

"what? are we talking about the same chan?" he looked at you, confused at your words.

"you know how he's been working on some tracks for the last few weeks?" hyunjin nodded, "well, he left them open and accidentally deleted them while borrowing his laptop, so he kicked me out." your eyes began to water again, making you sniffle.

hyunjin scoffed, "that is no excuse to kick someone out! especially so late at night, what was he thinking?" he sighed, rubbing your back comfortingly.

"and..." your voice wavered, "I told him that if he was really kicking me out, I-I couldn't guarantee I would come back." you wiped your face---once again wet, but this time, with tears.

"and that asshole didn't follow you out? I can't believe him. do you want me to talk to him?" he asked, hugging you as you wept.

"no no, it's okay. I-I just felt so stupid and belittled, hyune. I didn't even grab anything and ran straight out. you were the first person I thought to go to." you sniffled.

"I'm glad you came here, y/n, you know you're always welcome. you poor thing," he frowned, " why don't you go and try to get some rest now? you've had a long day." he suggested, leading you gently to chan's room to sleep.

"thank you, hyune, really." you two hugged before parting ways.

you settled down in the comfort of chan's dorm bed. as soon as your head hit the pillow, it engulfed you in the strong scent of his shampoo. you breathed in the familiar scent and sighed. you normally had a difficult time falling asleep, but not tonight. you were desperate to escape your heartbreak, and after an endless number of tears had soaked into the pillow underneath you, you had succumbed to sleep.

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

chan knew he should've followed you out of the apartment. he knew he shouldn't have let his anger and frustration get the best of him, especially because there was no way he could get any real work done when all he could think about was where you could've possibly gone so late at night in a city where you barely knew anyone except for him. his heart ached at how callous he was towards you, but his stubbornness kept him glued in front of his desk.

chan had been trying to get some work done for the past hour, hoping he could finesse some of the half-finished versions of his tracks he had managed to salvage into something decent before the deadline, but they were still way too short and lacking any real depth. he groaned in frustration, leaning back against his chair and letting his headphones slide down his head. he sighed, swallowing some of his pride, and grabbed his phone. he would just call you and make sure you were someplace safe, that's all.

but when chan heard the familiar sound of your ringtone coming from the living room, his heart sank right through him and his resolve flew right out of the window. the panic set in quickly, making him rush to his feet and slowly walk into the living room, as if walking slowly would make the reality become any less real. there, on the counter next to the front door, sat your phone, keys, and wallet. chan felt like the breath had been knocked out of him, his chest tightening to the point where it was hard for him to breath. he took a few deep breaths, trying to gain back his rationale, before running through the list of people you could've gone to.

lee know, felix, seungmin, and jeongin were definitely already asleep by the time you had headed out, and he knew you weren't the type to bother an entire dorm of sleeping people. changbin and jisung were spending the night in the studio, so it couldn't be them. that left only hyunjin. chan dialed his phone number and held his breath as it rang and rang, eventually going to voicemail. he called back multiple times, the panic making him frantic and irrational once again. after about the twelfth call, hyunjin finally picked up.

"what?" hyunjin asked shortly, making sure the irritation in his voice was clear.

"hyunjin, is y/n at the dorms by any chance?" he asked, trying to steady his shaking voice.

"shouldn't you know where your girlfriend is, hyung?" he spat.

"listen, I really fucked up, okay? I need to know if she's there and safe. so please answer me, hyunjin, I am begging you---is she there?" he asked once again, his anxiety increasing as he anticipated hyunjin's answer.

there was a brief pause on the line, hyunjin's hesitation making chan's stomach turn. hyunjin sighed heavily.

"she's fine. sleeping, finally. the only reason I'm still up is because all I could hear for the past hour is the poor thing's sniffling and crying."

"can I talk to her? she left her phone at home and I--" he gulped, holding his own tears, of both heartache and relief, back so he could keep talking steadily, "I just need to hear that she's really there and okay."

"I'll ask, but if she says no, I'm not going to push. " hyunjin said curtly.

chan heard some rustling over the phone, followed by a knock and hyunjin asking if you'd like to talk to chan. his chest tightened as he heard the faintest tone of your voice. hyunjin cleared his throat before talking to chan again.

"she's not budging. but..." he paused, "I definitely won't be sleeping any time soon. "

"I'm on my way. thank you so much, hyunjin." chan said quickly, stirring to his feet and making a beeline for the front door.

"I'm still angry at you, though. if y/n wants you gone, you have to leave. no buts, got it?"

chan agreed before hanging up and opening the door out of the apartment complex. he looked around and noticed the wet ground. it hadn't rained earlier when he came home. the guilt he felt only worsened at the thought of you running in the cold rain without so much as a jacket to protect you. he was going to have to do a lot more than simply apologize---he had to make it up to you.

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

you stirred awake at the sound of the door slowly creaking open. you sat up and looked over with squinted eyes.

"hyune?" you croaked horribly, the crying you had done becoming obvious.

"y/n." the voice, his voice, breathed out. he cautiously walked towards you.

"w-what? why are you here?" you yelled, panicking at chan's sudden presence. you shot up in the bed and pulled the duvet flush against your chest.

"I came to apologize." he said nervously, sitting at the edge of his bed and looking over at you.

"I don't want to hear it. get out." you spat angrily.

"you have every right to be angry at me. but could you just hear me out? please, baby? I promise I'll leave right after if that's what you really want, y/n." he pleaded, trying desperately to meet your eyes.

you looked to the side, refusing to look at him. you took a deep breath to control your emotions before answering him. "go on."

"okay," he took a deep breath, "y/n, I am so incredibly sorry. I completely overreacted and put my work before you like a selfish idiot. I shouldn't have gotten so angry over a mistake, and I blew the situation way out of proportion," he held his head low, fidgeting with his hands before looking up at your waiting eyes, "and I could spend the rest of my life apologizing, and I know that that still wouldn't be enough. but truly, y/n, I really am sorry." he gulped, looking up at the ceiling to stop himself from crying in front of you.

"no," you looked at him, angry tears welling in your eyes, "no, you don't get to swoop in and apologize as if this was any other stupid fight we've had!" the hurt in your voice was palpable and so raw.

chan felt truly helpless. not only was the guilt of letting you leave eating away at him, but now he had to face the fact that all of the pain and heartache you were going through was entirely his fault. "I-I'm sorry, I'm sorry, baby, I am so so sorry. I never meant to hurt you." his voice cracked. there was no use in trying to hold back his emotions now as his tears ran freely down his cheeks.

"chan, you don't get it," you paused to wipe your face, "I know your work is important. I get it, I do. but you didn't just kick me out. you didn't just let me leave. when you chose not to follow me out, you chose to fucking break up with me instead," you cried out, your throat raw, "you abandoned me." you whimpered, feeling completely broken.

"no---no, y/n, that's not---" chan struggled to find the right words to say to you, finally realizing the full gravity of the situation.

you abruptly crawled out of bed and stood there, looking away from chan. "you made your choice. now go." you whispered.

but as you tried walking towards the door, he grabbed your wrist firmly. he stood up with you, grabbing the other wrist and holding you in front of him. you felt his intense gaze above you, and you didn't dare to look up. you knew that as soon as you saw chan's flushed, heartbroken face, your resolve would completely disintegrate. you couldn't find it in you to move out of his grip either, though, too exhausted to keep fighting. his hands slowly slid from your wrists down to your hands. he gently caressed them with his thumbs before cautiously placing his hands around your waist. you felt him slowly slide down to the ground and onto his knees, his arms following him down to your legs.

"I figured I'd be able to see your face better from down here," he looked up at you, chuckling a little as he sniffled. his light demeanor changed quickly, though, as he became overcome with emotion once again, "I know I sound like a broken record but, fuck, I--" he blinked away fresh tears, "I can't apologize enough. I am so sorry, baby. not following after you was the worst mistake of my life. in my frustration, I didn't even realize I let the only thing worth caring about in my life walk out of it. I know I don't deserve to be forgiven, but I'm going to be selfish and ask for it, anyway. because I can't lose you. I love you way too much to let that happen. you know that, right? please, baby, tell me you know that?" he pleaded with you.

you finally sunk down to chan's level and sat in front of him, finally giving in, "of course I know that, chan," you sighed, "I love you, too." you said quietly.

"w-where do we go from here?" he asked you nervously, "I'll do whatever you want, my love."

"I don't want to break up."

"I don't want that, either." he breathed out a sigh of relief.

"I want this, all of this, to be over so badly. but if you ever, and I mean ever, do anything like that again, we will break up for good. I am so serious, chan, I will not forgive you a second time." you said solemnly.

"I wouldn't dream of it, my love," he smiled at you fondly, "am I forgiven then?" he asked you slyly.

"I guess so." you replied coyly.

"come here," he pulled you into his lap. you leaned against his chest, feeling much lighter after making up with chan. he pushed the hair away from your face.

"you know I am actually sorry about fucking up your tracks. I won't touch your laptop again, I promise." you mumbled.

"it's all in the past, baby, really. I'll figure it out," he hummed, "and besides, you're not even going to want to borrow my laptop soon."

you looked at him curiously, quirking an eyebrow at his strange remark.

"I got you a new laptop!" he beamed, "it won't be here until the end of the week, but I figured it was about time you threw that piece of junk you call a laptop away." he chuckled.

"oh my god! you didn't have to do that chan," you smiled at him with surprise, "thank you." you mumbled sweetly.

"it's the least I could do," he kissed the top of your head before picking you up abruptly, "now come on, we have some lost time to make up for." he peppered kisses across your face, making you giggle.

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

(a little bonus!)

the next morning, you and chan were awoken by loud chatter and laughter outside of the room. you both trudged out of bed one after another and made yourselves look decent before joining the others in the dining room.

you felt someone glaring at the two of you from one side of the room. "next time you guys decide to fight, do it at your own place. seriously, who yells that loud at 3 in the morning?" hyunjin groaned, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and yawning dramatically. chan apologized with a light laugh, ruffling hyunjin's hair as he put his head down against the dining table. you both sat down with him around the table together.

"oh, you guys are awake?" jisung asked, drying his head with a towel as he stepped out of the bathroom and joined all of you at the table, "we heard what happened last night. hyung, you know should've called us---" as if on cue, changbin came out of his room and stormed into the dining room.

"yah!" he yelled, "what the hell were you thinking not calling us after you lost our tracks?" changbin yelled.

please, changbin, I just spent the entire night regretting and begging for forgiveness, please leave me alone." chan whined.

changbin ignored him completely and turned to you, "y/n, guess what? the idiot you call your boyfriend didn't bother to call the people he literally produces every track with when he lost all of his work. you know, if he did actually think to call me or jisung, he would've known," he turned towards chan this time, "that he sent us those tracks to review and save on our laptops and he fought with you over absolutely nothing." he huffed.

your head whipped over to look at your boyfriend whose face was lit up with realization as he remembered doing everything changbin was saying.

"I suggest you take the intruder bat we keep under the couch and beat his ass." jisung mumbled next to you through a mouthful of food.

"jisung!" chan scolded.

"or I'll do it. it's for a good cause." he shrugged, "your call, y/n."

"thanks ji, but I'm good," you smiled, "if he's gonna get his ass kicked, it should be me doing it. sleep with one eye open, christopher." you glared at him.

"not the government name." hyunjin gasped.

"I'm sorry again?" chan said meekly, scratching the back of his neck. you smacked his arms a couple times, making him fake whine and eventually chuckle. he smothered you in an inescapable hug, holding you closely and kissing the top of your head.

"gag."

"shut up or you're next jisung."

#skz angst #skz fanfic #skz fluff #skz headcanons #skz imagines #skz reactions #stray kids #stray kids fluff #stray kids reactions #skz #stray kids headcanons #stray kids angst #skz chan #stray kids bang chan #skz scenarios #stray kids scenarios #skz bang chan #stray kids imagines

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snalsupremacy · 7 months

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Why this is my favorite panel in hgsn

Hgsn has some incredible art and page composition, but out of the entire manga so far, to me this is the best panel of them all. Hell, this might be my favorite panel of any manga ever. (Note: Due to respecting the scanlator's wishes, I blanked out the dialogue and replaced all necessary dialogue with the official English source)

1- Build-up

Before I get to the panel itself, lets first talk about the pages before: For context, this is in chapter 2. Yoshiki has just found out about "Hikaru", and its trying to adjust to this new reality. As they walk from school to Yoshiki's house, Yoshiki asks him if he killed Hikaru. This is how the previous two pages look like:

Notice how the half shading effect is done in hatch marks. This is the first sign the all-black shading is a stylistic choice used to convey something.

Look at the balance the two pages form when you put them together: half white, half black, half black, half white. They compliment each other, both in color balance and in panel shape.

We have to turn the page to hear Hikaru's answer to Yoshiki's question. This gives the control of the narrative back to the viewer. This creates tension and build-up to it, it is a common tactic famously employed by Junji Ito in his famous "page-turner" moments where the viewer has to turn the page to see the monster. Except in this instance we are not revealing monsters, or are we?

2- The page

I'm not gonna get into too much detail on the page itself, I just want to point out the juxtaposition between the page composition of this page and the previous two. The last two were balanced and had all the panels closed while this one is much more liberal, bringing a feeling of unbalance, like something just shifted. I'd say the black and white balance is still there, with the Hikaru on white and Yoshiki on black panel side by side and all, which actually brings me to my next point:

3- Black and White

Honestly this could be an entire analysis post of itself, where do I even start?! Let's go from the very beginning. This is the very first time we learn of "Hikaru" :

Notice how the panel is colored black. In fact, throughout the story, we see black panels being spoken by "Hikaru", usually right before he does something unnatural:

And here are the only two instances we see of the Brain-snatcher's true form:

• He's literally a black blob, just like the text bubbles! And now combine that with Hikaru's white hair, and the fact his name means to be bright, and what's the brightest color but white, and there is a clear color symbolism going on:

Hikaru=White

"Hikaru"=Black

4-The Panel

And now we're back to the original panel! Taking all the other points in mind, we can analyze the panel itself

First, his expression. My G-d, his expression! His raised eyebrows and his squinted eyes, making his pupils way larger, make the expression seem almost childish and pitiful. But the half black-out face turns this pity look to an ominous one. Not being able to see the face or having your face obstructed is easy path into the uncanny valley, which I think is the case for this scene. Immediately 180 from "aww the poor guy" to "what is he hiding?"

The white panel says "I like you" while the black panel says "I'm crazy for you". HOWEVER, The white bubble is by the black side of his face and the black bubble is by the white side of his face. So which Hikaru is saying that? Is "Hikaru" crazy for Yoshiki, while Hikaru just liked him, or the other way around? Did the original Hikaru ever love Yoshiki, or is that the monster's feelings? Well we don't know! That's the premise of the whole manga! In one panel!

And that's why it's my favorite :)

#hikaru ga shinda natsu #the summer hikaru died #hgsn #tshd #yoshiki tsujinaka #hikaru indou #snal posting #the manga of all time tbh

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buckyalpine · 1 year

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Catch Me If You Can 1/3

Mob!Bucky x Single mom police officer Reader

This is a crack fic, ridiculousness, cuteness, angstttt.

Warnings: Kidnapping, fluffffff, single mom reader, crappy ex, Mob Bucky is a whole ass warning

LMK how you feel about these 2

Part 2

Part 3

The plan was simple. Not the most ideal, not the first thing the mob boss would have planned to but desperate times called for desperate measures. He needed this shipment to go through and he was done being patient.

“We gotta move quick” Bucky murmured, driving slowly behind the target, the dark windows of the SUV making it impossible to see who was inside. As soon as the traffic light turned red, they stopped the truck, swinging the doors open and stepping in front of their mark.

“Hey! What are you-”

“Shh, just get in the car” Bucky towered over him, his face stern, cocking an eyebrow at the big eyes that stared up at him. Sam and Steve were by his side with equally stoic expressions, nodding to the open door, their hostage reluctantly getting into the backseat with an annoyed huff. They drove to Bucky’s club, target in tow as they made their way to the office, strange looks exchanged by patrons, looking at Bucky’s latest captive.

Steve shut the door while Bucky strode across the room to answer a call, breathing a sigh of relief hearing the deal had gone off without a hitch. Nothing had been seized and the deal was set, thanks to his last minute decision. He reached for a crystal decanter, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself when a voice caught his attention.

“Why am I here” Bucky turned around to face all 4 feet, 2 inches of his hostage, little furrowed brows knitted in the middle, arms crossed with his chest puffed out, a heavy bookbag making his solid stance a little wobbly. “Is this because my mommy wants to put you in jail?” Bucky nearly choked on his whisky while Steve snorted, doing a poor job to mask his laugh. “I can see why. Kidnapping is against the law”

By this point, both Sam and Steve were nearly on the floor, attempting to keep their stoic expressions on by covering their mouths, covering their laugh with a cough. Bucky raised a brow, not sure if he was insulted or impressed at the sass and lack of fear the 8 year old had. None of them were exactly fans of anything that involved children. It was an unspoken rule; children were always left untouched. He had to break that rule this time though, knowing if things had gone south, it would have led to a gang war which would have been far worse than the stunt he just pulled kidnapping a police offers son.

Police officer.

Bucky had most of the justice system and law enforcement at his fingertips, all happily bowing to his bidding, letting his deals and illegal activities slip under the radar. Most were more than happy to comply with what he asked. Most were happy to turn a blind eye.

Except the departments newest officer.

The absolute bane of his very existence.

The only person who had actually ever managed to get him arrested though he was quickly released; no one else wanting to get on his bad side by actually pressing charges.

But you refused to back down.

At first Bucky brushed it off, figuring you’d get with the program and eventually quieten down but no. You were constantly there, making his job more difficult than it had to be, your irritatingly righteous need to keep the city free of gang activity driving him up the wall.

The last straw was a few weeks ago when he had set up an arms deal with the East side of the city, an exchange of weapons, but more importantly, a possible alliance between groups. Things going successfully would mean more protection for both the North and East and stronger joint front. You had managed to track communication between the groups, readying a team to shut down the exchange, ignoring the warnings you got from the mob boss.

Bucky was done playing nice.

It was more than the police just showing up. His power meant everyone listened to him. No one, not even the law disobeyed or strayed from his word. A single officer looking to take him down would have shown weakness; that he didn’t have all the control he should have. Weak links were unacceptable.

Which lead to his plan.

To hold onto your son for awhile so you’d abandon the plan you’d put together, none of your colleagues willing to stop anything on their own, everyone retreating far away from the deal while it took place.

And it worked.

He had managed to take your son while he was on his way home from school and you had been informed of his location. Everything else went smoothly; problem solved. Still, nothing prepared him for how unbothered and how at ease his little captive would be.

“I’m guessing you’re the man mommy calls -” Your son blinked at Bucky, chewing his lips, thinking for a moment before continuing. “She says I can’t use those words. I’m gonna call you Uncle Bucky” He shrugged, plopping onto the chair, grabbing one of Bucky’s fountain pens, proceeding to doodle on a notepad on the desk.

“You-you can’t-” For the first time in his life Bucky found himself speechless, looking incredulously at the little boy proceed to draw, the mop of dark brown hair on his head, covering his eyes slightly.

“It’s Mr. Barnes” He muttered, while your son tossed his book bag off to grab a comic book that was inside, drawing a character that was on the cover.

“It’s Jordan” your son replied, now fully focused on his Batman cartoon.

“I like this kid” Steve half wheezed while Bucky stared at the little thing in front of him, his lips struggling to stay in a firm line, the corners itching to tug up into a smile.

“Mommy said you’re a bad man” He piqued, looking at the mob boss from the corner of his eye, “I can’t say you did yourself any favors today Mr. Uncle Bucky”

Before Steve and Sam could full on belly laugh, your panicked voice carried through the bar, nearing the office.

“Jordan? Jordan!” The office doors slammed open to your frantic face, running over to your little one as soon as your eyes landed on him, scooping him in your arms, “Baby, are you okay?”

Bucky felt his heart soften for a moment, watching your heart break and mend itself all at once as soon as you had your son wrapped in your arms again. He shook his head, reminding himself of why he took your son in the first place, ignoring the warmth that was trying to melt his soul.

“You fu-” You bit your tongue, taking deep breath, keeping in mind there were little ears listening. “How could you?!”

“Had to get a message across doll, you don’t seem to listen” Bucky shrugged while you let out a law growl, hauling your son up and grabbing his school bag, wanting to get him out of there and back home more than anything else.

“This isn’t over” You shot over your shoulder before leaving the office and exiting the bar. Bucky couldn’t help but smirk slightly, he didn’t like you but he couldn’t help but admire the fiery fearless side of you that never backed down, not even to him.

“M’sure it isn’t, mama bear” Bucky murmured to himself, inspecting the little doodle your son left behind; an image of Batman and a small Robin.

Of course you were not able to do anything about the kidnapping; none of the higher ups were willing to put their neck on the line to arrest Bucky and your boss shrugged, giving you a very pointed I told you so look.

Jordan also seemed unaffected with the whole ordeal, often asking you what Uncle Bucky was up to these days as if he were a colleague from work. Truthfully, you were not even 100% what Bucky had been up to. Things had been suspiciously calm ever since the incident happened and while you were thankful for some peace and quiet, you wondered if he was up to something.

Nothing was ever quiet with that man.

Meanwhile you also had other problems to deal with. While work calmed down, your stress was higher than ever looking at the number of missed calls on you phone from Jordan’s father. The very man who decided he wanted nothing to do with either of you the day you found out you were pregnant. The man who promptly kicked you out of the house to fend for yourself. The man who had now decided would be a great time to reenter your sons life and be a stand up father.

And maybe get some spousal benefits from your job.

You could never catch a break.

A few weeks later - Bucky’s office

“You kept this, huh?” Steve picked up the doodle on Bucky’s desk, smiling at the way Bucky’s eyes grew wide before trying to back to his signature frown.

“Didn’t notice” Bucky lied, though his best friend could see right through him, knowing Bucky didn’t keep just anything on his table, every single item on the desk having a purpose.

“He kinda reminds me of you” Steve pointed out, thinking back to all the times little Bucky had stood up for him when they were kids, putting on a brave face in front of the meanest. “Kinda looks like you too”

“Hm” Bucky grunted, wondering himself why he still had the picture. He made a conscious decision not to throw it out; each time he had to write something down, he’d grab a paper below it and carefully put the drawing back on top. Steve was right; Jordan did look like him when he was little and had the same feisty, sassy personality as he did though he was sure the bravery your son had was from you.

You.

In a strange way, Bucky missed having to deal with your nagging and threats to take him down; business had been quiet so there wasn’t a reason for you to chase after him. You made things interesting; it’s not that he wanted anyone to make his job harder than it had to be but sometimes the challenge was nice. Plus it didn’t hurt that you absolutely gor-

For fucks sake.

“I need a drink” Bucky shook his head, flicking away the odd feeling he started to feel in his tummy, deciding he needed something stiff over whatever he had stashed in his office. Steve snorted, easily reading his friends thoughts while they made their way to a locked cabinet below the bar counter, fishing for something that would silence unnecessary thoughts. He grabbed a glass, dropping in two ice cubes and filling the glass, taking a long draw of the dark liquid before his attention was pulled elsewhere.

Bucky’s eyes grew wide seeing the mop of dark hair and big eyes make its way through the crowded bar, customers giving each other strange glances at the little boy with a school bag who had no business being in a gang leaders club.

“Kid, what are you-

“Mommy’s hurt” Jordan looked up at Bucky with teary eyes, swallowing away the lump that formed in his throat, putting his best brave face on instead, now wasn’t the time to cry.

“What?”

“She - someone hurt her”

The thought of someone hurting you sent a surge of anger through Bucky, his jaw clenching as he slammed his glass down. It was ironic, considering the number of times he had wished you would disappear but not like this. Not once had he ever thought of hurting you; at the end of the day, you had always stood for what was right.

“Where is she” Bucky took Jordan’s hand in his, holding it firmly to ground him while making his way outside and towards the SUV. He didn’t have to even look at Steve to know he was already by his side and sliding into the drivers seat.

“Home, we live on-”

“I know where you live kid” Bucky chuckled slightly while Steve was already weaving through traffic and pulling up to your street, screeching to a halt in front of your house.

Bucky helped Jordan hop out of the SUV and lead him to you, the front door left while open with the handle broken off. There were clear signs of a struggle, seeing broken pictures on the floor and a few dents in the walls, the mess continuing all the way up the stairs to your bedroom. Bucky instructed Jordan to wait downstairs with Steve, worried about what condition he was going to find you in.

You were holding yourself up against the wall, your arm clutching your bloodied side, putting pressure on the gash that sliced you. Your head still throbbing from where you had been hit. You could barely register what was happening, gasping at the sound of Bucky’s voice suddenly in your room.

“C’mon, doll” His arm snaked around you, pulling you to his, holding up some of your weight.

“Where are we going” You wanted to fight back but the pain was making you dizzy and spots were starting to cloud your vision.

“We’re -woah-” Bucky caught you before you slipped, scooping you in his arms, bridal style “We’re going to get you fixed up” He spoke softly, carrying you out of your room and carefully down the stairs towards the SUV. You were in too much pain to protest, slipping in and out of consciousness during the drive over.

Steve had already slipped Jordan into the front seat, the both of them chatting over who would win in a hotdog eating competition; Superman, Batman or the Joker. He could see Jordan sneak worried glances behind him to look over at you, fidgeting with the straps of his backpack.

“She’ll be okay” Steve whispered to him, giving him a reassuring smile as he pulled up to the mansion. “Your mama’s strong, y’know she’s the only one Uncle Bucky is scared of” He gave your son a wink before helping him out of the car and opening the door so Bucky could carry you to his room. He carefully set you down on his bed, wasting no time grabbing a first aid kit he kept tucked under the bed for emergencies while you groaned, trying to sit up.

“Barnes, what are you-”

“Just lie down doll, let me clean this up first” He carefully lifted your blouse to assess how bad the injury was, soaking a cotton ball in some disinfectant.

“Ah!-” You winced, hissing out in pain at the saturated cotton ball Bucky pressed onto your skin, cleaning the area as gently as he could, his focus shifting between getting you better and wondering who did this to you. He’d have to worry about that later.

“Sorry, sorry” Bucky murmured, gently blowing onto the cleaned area, cooling your skin before grabbing a needle and threat, starting on some sutures to close the gash. “I’ll be quick, just bear with me” You gritted your teeth feeling the needle poke you.

“How-how do you know how to do this” Your voice was strained, struggling to keep it steady while Bucky threaded the needle as gently and quickly as possible, neatly closing off the gash.

“Gotta know this in my line of work, sugar” He smirked giving you a lopsided grin when you rolled your eyes, squeaking when he gently pushed you back down when you tried to get up. “Rest for a bit”

You reluctantly laid against the plush mattress looking up at the baby blue eyes softly peering down at you, the same blue eyes your normally wanted to poke out of frustration.

“I’ll be fine, we can go ho-” You were going to say you could go home but it was clear home wasn’t the safest option, not after what had just happened.

“C’mon, stay here for the night” He wasn’t exactly going to leave you room to do anything else, there was no way he was going to let you go home after what he had just seen. He was more than happy to sleep in a tent outside of his own home if it meant you’d just stay somewhere safe. “At least for today”

“I-we can’t-Jordan-”

“-WOULD LOVE TO STAY HERE”

Bucky let out a genuine laugh hearing your sons voice carried through the doorway where he was clearly eavesdropping. You snorted, shaking your head and closing your eyes at your sons antics, exhaustion making it hard for you to move anyway.

“We shouldn’t be here” You whispered, feeling your conscious battle within yourself. You were supposed to be fighting for the right side of the law. Bucky was the opposite of that. Then why didn’t this feel wrong? You’d spent countless hours trying to put him away. So why did you feel so safe?

“I don’t-

“Just for tonight” Bucky stated softly but firmly, leaving you little room to argue. He grabbed you a tshirt and some joggers of his, letting you clean off and chance while he slipped out of the room. He was met with curious eyes peering up at him, your son patiently waiting to know if you were okay.

“She’s okay, just getting cleaned up. Let your mama rest” Bucky whispered, leading Jordan to the TV room where Peter was busying himself with video games. “Hey Parker, brought you a worthy opponent” Peter grinned, handing Jordan a controller and shifting over so he could plop down beside him.

“She’s gonna be okay?” Jordan whispered up at Bucky, feeling a sense of calm around the man his mom usually used no-no words to describe. Surely he couldn’t be that bad?

“No one’s stronger than your mama” Bucky smiled, ruffling his hair before coming back to check on you. You had slipped back into bed, ignoring the way Bucky’s clothes were soft and comfy to wear, his scent making your insides flutter unnecessarily.

“Don’t you look cozy, officer” Bucky smirked, sauntering over with a glass of water and pain killers, leaving them on the bedside table for you. You rolled your eyes though gratefully taking 2 tablets for your aching head.

“Where’s Jordan?”

“Currently beating everyone’s ass in Mario Kart”

“This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook Barnes” You tried to keep your voice firm but the playful smirk he was giving you was infectious. You bit your lip to keep your lips from tugging up, choosing to frown more instead but that only seemed to egg him on more.

“Course, darlin’“ He drawled out, giving you a wink before bidding you good night, “Wouldn’t have it any other way” He turned the light off and gently shut the door, making his way back down to make sure Jordan had something for dinner.

You pulled the covers up, sighing into the soft plush pillows and sheets, letting sleep take over, ignoring the way your inner conscious continued to debate itself. He didn’t have to help you. Didn’t have to keep you safe. Didn’t have to do any of this and yet here you were. You and your son. Both safe. Because of him.

Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all...

Tags: @glxwingrxse @hungryyeyess @sebsgirl71479 @beabutterfly987 @teambarnes72 @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan @buggy14 @whimsyplaty92 @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec @pono-pura-vida @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog @happyt0exist @emmabarnes @bethyruth @matchat3a @cjand10 @getwellsoontana @cherryschaos @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @ashenc-blog @buckybarnessimpp @potatothots @goldylions @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog @kingfleury @peaches1958 @spiderman-stilinski @peaceinourtime82 @gublur @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46 @lolawassad @almosttoopizza @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess @buckycallsmeaslut @kamaria-sweet-writes @charmedbysarge @xnorthstar3x @kryoee7 @alina02 @gh0stgurl @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club @eralen @perdidosbucky-yyo @clqrosmgc @buckybarnessweetheart @pandaxnienke @manyfandomsfanvergent

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i-put-the-hot-in-psychotic · 6 days

Text

Target Acquired PART 1

Pairings: Keegan. P. Russ x Soldier!Reader

Enemies to Lovers Trope

Summary: You and Keegan were somewhat of enemies, if that could be said. You got shot by him when you were on a mission, and hide in a nearby warehouse, but what happens when you actually get to talking, and showing him that you are not a scared woman and you mean business as much anyone else.

Disclaimer: This story will contain curse words, war themes, gun shot wounds, and (NSFW) sexual themes in part 2.

"Fuck"

You seeth between your teeth. You got shot, but from where you don't know. You rested your back against the metal crate breathing deeply.

You are enemies.

He was good, shooting you like that. You couldn't see in the the dusty air surrounding you. The abandoned warehouse. You just need to get there, hide there at least until you patch yourself.

The building is dark and has no lights except for the sunlight from the broken windows. All of a sudden, footsteps start getting closer. A man turns into the room. It's him.

He points his gun at you, scanning your body.

"Take your weapons off and push them towards me." He demands.

"Why? You already shot me. Might as well end it here" you say as you leaned against the wall breathing heavy holding your abdomen and applying pressure.

He walks towards you, still pointing his gun at you. "I need to make sure you are unarmed first. Take your weapons off and put them on the ground. Now!"

Sighing heavily sending him daggers, as if you're in a position to shoot, you removed your weapons and shot them towards him with a kick of your foot.

"There happy?"

He catches each one of the weapons with a holt underneath his heavy boot.

"I need to search you." He says, after a moment of dead silence.

"Take off your clothes and throw them towards me."

You stop dead in your tracks. Eyes trying to meet his, sadly having the light come from behind him it made him just a silhouette. He wasn't serious was he?

The corner of his mouth rises into a slight smile. "You heard me. Remove your clothes."

"Keegan"

"What?"

"Im not going to. I gave you my weapons what more could you want. Leave me to bandage myself." you state finalizing your bandage with a knot.

His expression sharpens, becoming somewhat frustrated.

"You aren't going anywhere until I say so. Remove your clothes, now."

You get up, winching at the pain in your abdomen. Keegan got you good shooting just beneath your chest plate. You removed your chest plate and your thigh holsters. Giving him a look as he urged you to continue.

You removed your top leaving you in your string one and finally went to your cargo pants, removing your boots too.

"This isn't very ethical. Even during war" you state.

Your string top had blood all over it sticking to your naval, but pushing the pain away you strengthen in front of him, trying to subside your anger. He was not going humiliate you.

His eyebrows arch in surprise as he stares at your body. He walks around you, checking every crevice. The look on his face is of disbelief and... curiosity?

"I'm amazed you are putting up this much of a fight... "

"Can I get dressed now? " you reply unamused.

Silence.

You look at his eyes. What game is he playing? Thoughts gave him away from his eyes, but no ounce of emotion from behind his mask.

"Please turn around for me." He says in a calm but firm voice.

You turn around as he instructs. Breathing heavy having him behind your back, you prepare for the worst, arms and legs at the ready years of training on you.

Silence.

Not even the rifle's strap sound, nothing.

He looks up and down your body as if studying it. For a moment, he stares in silence, letting his eyes take everything in.

Finally, he clears his throat. "Alright, I'm done here." He starts walking towards the door. "Once I've left, get dressed and don't try anything stupid."

"So what? What was this all for? Wanted to feel some power over me? That's why you had me take my uniform off?" You reply angry.

"Haven't seen a woman I presume"

You hit a nerve.

He was close to the door leaving. Smirking he wasn't the only one in power here.

He stops walking. This is the first time you've seen his expression change. He's... amused?

"You aren't scared of me?" He asks.

Normally, people are petrified. This is the first time someone's talked to him like this.

You turn and move towards him. He towers over you full gear on. You still in your under uniform garments.

"I'm scared of no one" you say directly looking in his eyes.

The tension in the air grows as your two bodies are now just inches apart.

He takes a small step forward, invading your personal space. He stares down at you, unblinking. You feel like you are caught in a trance, as if you cannot look away.

"You're not scared of me, hmm?"

"Never" you whisper to him.

He inches closer. Your lips are now only a few centimeters apart, his covered by his mask.

His eyes pierce into yours. He seems transfixed, almost like a predator watching its prey.

There is a slight smile on his lips. He speaks barely aloud in a teasing tone.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure"

You inch closer actually meaning what you're saying. As he angles his head closer you reply; "You should get going, they might be wondering where their leader went. Wouldn't want them to know you were with the enemy would you?" you say walking backwards away from him.

"Hmm... and what if I wanted to be with the enemy?" He steps toward you again, matching your walking pace but remaining only an inch or two behind you.

His lips curl into a devilish smirk and he tilts his head curiously to the side like he can't believe how brave you are.

You're shocked, yet not surprised that would be something he would say, however you remained stoic.

"Maybe the enemy doesn't want to be with you" you tantalize.

He pauses for a moment, still following behind you but not moving any closer.

His eyes are darting around your body, trying to take it all in. He speaks again in a voice that's somehow both playful and yet deadly.

"You're a bold one, aren't you?"

You start to dress back into your uniform, wanting to leave. Finally putting on your cargo pants you don't reply to him.

"Hey..."

He speaks, but at first his voice is so low that you ignore it.

"Hey!"

He tries again, yelling this time. He can't let you leave. And there's something else in his voice, a hint of desperation.

You heavily sigh wanting this game to end. Dressed, you walk towards him hitting his shoulder with yours making your way out of the building.

He grabs your wrist before you can walk further, spinning you around to face him.

For the first time, you see that deep down, he's not a monster. There is a hint of humanity and emotion in his eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

Without replying you looked at his hand wrapped around your wrist then at him. Lets hear this you think.

He grips your wrist tighter, not hard enough to hurt but just enough to show you he's not letting go.

He stares back into your eyes, studying them, trying to read them.

"Why... are you so fearless?" he asks.

You frown at that. Remembering things that made you who you are today.

"Life" you reply.

For a moment, you see a flash of empathy in his eyes before he quickly masks it with his usual expression. "Right."

He pauses, then lets go of your wrist. He stares silently for another moment then finally breaks the silence. "You're different... "

"So are you" you say heading back to the outside world wanting this scene to end not knowing what actually happened between you two. Hand on the door handle you turn looking to wards him. "See you on the battlefield" you say opening the door.

He stays perfectly still, letting you walk outside first. You notice that he seems almost sad, like he's lost something.

You feel his eyes following you out. They are full of curiosity as if he's wondering if he'll ever see you again.

You are both very different people, but for some reason, you have this strange feeling that you are somehow connected to each other.

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thevirgodoll · 1 year

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Doll Diaries: 10 Ways to Begin Living the Doll Life.

To introduce my brand and my mission, I have created the first guide on how to Live the Doll Life.

This is the first of many posts to build around what a Doll means.

This is a compilation of all of my advice from past posts, my values and things I recommend aspiring to. It's an initiation of some sorts, and will be a sneak peek to what my website and Patreon will entail. This covers who you want to be (your ideal self), who you are right now (your current self), your measure of confidence and value (your worth), and your reality of who you are (your traits and individuality).

Welcome to the Dollhouse!!!

A huge part of what made me choose "Doll" as a brand is the movie, Life Size (2000).

In Life Size, Eve stood up for what was right, was ambitious, and learned how to honor her feelings as a real person. I highly recommend giving it a watch (I haven't seen the second movie, only referencing the first) to really get a feel of the energy I want to cultivate and embody. Now, let's get into it!

1. Embrace everything you already are.

Just because you are in a pursuit of becoming someone new does not mean you have to discard the things that make you who you are. Embracing who you already are and who you were is key to building self confidence. Who you are now is worthy of love and gratitude.

Ask yourself:

What can I forgive myself for?

What are my current strengths and weaknesses?

How can I show myself gratitude today?

2. Love people and speak life into them.

A true Doll does not engage in taking other women down. The biggest issue in today's world is that negativity has become a hot commodity. It is so insidious once it gets started, and it has been normalized to tear other people down in shady, subtle comments. These things bear no fruit. Understand now that talking badly about people and hating them only increases their sun.

What makes the difference between a Doll and another person is that everything she says has a purpose. Before speaking ask yourself:

Is this necessary? Is this true?

What do I gain from saying this?

Would I want to hear this?

These questions will make you distinguish between feelings and facts. You may not even know why you don't like someone at first, but asking yourself critical questions will teach you to see things from a different perspective. Most of the time, this has taught me to keep certain things to myself! If you don't know what you feel yet, the best thing to do is be quiet. It really is true that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it at all. ***There are obviously exceptions to the rule, such as emotional abuse, bullying, etc. Defend yourself. Just don't be the one to be a catalyst to someone's downfall.

3. Be a student of life.

In this Dollhouse, we are eager to learn!!! If you want to lead others, you have to be willing to admit that you can be wrong. Even though Dolls are well adored and well educated, we aren't always right. Well, a lot of the time I am, but that's not the point!

Ask yourself:

What is this trying to teach me? What can I take away from this?

When was the last time I opened my mind to something new?

What could I have done differently? If I am resistant to feedback or change in this present moment, why?

4. Take pride in your appearance.

We aren't perfect...but we might as well be the closest thing to it. Make the decision now that you want to look your best every day. This doesn't mean wearing a full face of makeup 24/7, but this does mean being put together. A Doll should never leave the house without looking presentable, and if this is difficult, it's time for a change! Remember in The Princess Diaries when Mia got a makeover to become a princess? She looked like a completely different person and all it took was a new routine in beauty maintenance.

Obviously, you don't have to go to the extremes like she did. There's nothing wrong with glasses, thick curly hair, or thick eyebrows. It's all about making those things cohesive, which is the point of the makeover. I suggest you go on Pinterest or other platforms to find inspiration for what you want to look like. Create a routine around looking your best for YOU...only you know what flatters you the most.

Ask yourself:

What do I feel when I look in the mirror?

What influences me? What does a Doll look like to me?

What would a physical change do for me right now? And why am I doing it?

5. Have people in your life that align with you.

Friends can inspire us, or derail us. It is extremely hard as you get older to sustain friendships because once you leave grade school, there aren't any commonalities keeping you around people you know. Sometimes, we hang onto people longer than we need to.

A verse from the Bible that I often keep in mind regarding friends is Proverbs 12:26:

The righteous choose their friends carefully, but the way of the wicked leads them astray.

Ask yourself:

Would I take advice from this person? Why or why not?

What are the pros and cons of having this person around? How do I feel after hanging out with them?

What do they do for me? Is this reciprocal or transactional?

Is this person bringing me closer to or further away from my dreams, goals, and aspirations? Do they value what I value?

During conflict, how has this friend treated me? Do I trust them? Can I go to them when I need them?

As far as relationships, that is different for everyone but the questions are relatively the same. Some people stop their entire journey towards becoming the woman of their dreams because of love. Guard your heart!!!

Ask yourself:

Does this person align with my beliefs and values? Have I vetted them to see what type of person they are?

How does this person take care of themselves spiritually, mentally, and physically?

What is their story? Is this person aware of that story (whether it's with family, exes, friends, etc.)?

What can they offer me that I cannot give to myself?

Why do I want to be with this person?

6. Truly begin to believe you ARE 1 of 1.

Everyone is different, especially you. Your energy is highly sought after, all you have to do is acknowledge that. In order to live this lifestyle, you gotta appreciate differences in people around you so you can avoid guilting yourself into assimilation/conformity.

Individuality is everything... don't trade that for the approval of others. Social media has revealed how much originality women lack... so be a breath of fresh air. Think of this as Miley Stewart becoming her alter ego, Hannah Montana. The best way to see the new you is a alter ego. Celebrities have used alter egos to embody a side of them that is full of tenacity and candor...basically what they wish they could be. Real life examples are: Sasha Fierce (Beyoncé), Roman (Nicki Minaj).

The arc of an alter ego comes full circle. At some point in the Hannah Montana franchise, Miley came to terms that she lacked nothing in being who she really was because the star power was already in her. Therefore, she let her go and embodied those qualities in herself as "Miley". After hard work it will be the same for you, and you will appreciate who you are even more and not have to separate the two.

Ask yourself:

Who am I? What makes me special?

What do I love most about myself?

What is my signature and aesthetic?

What are the qualities of my alter ego/archetype?

7. Be a woman of substance.

It's useless to work towards being an it girl if you have nothing to talk about. So many women have star quality on the outside, but they are surface level and it prevents them from being seen positively and it takes away their chance of being an it girl.

Learn about current events. Learn about past events. Learn about events that are yet to come, and form an opinion.

You have Google at your disposal, so there's really no excuse to be lazy. Find your passion...most people are empty because they don't do anything they love. Be well versed in multiple topics. I know we say beauty and brains, but it really is hard to come by these days. Most people do not read anymore, nor do they take the time out to learn things themselves.

When it comes to school, that counts as substance as well if you're actually taking classes you're getting something out of (which is a whole other post). I would be remiss if I did not mention that education isn't for everyone. But for those of you that are going to college or are in college like me, this is one of the most important stages of your life. You're on the cusp of greatness. Life happens, but no matter what, we gotta get that degree no matter how long it takes.

Ask yourself:

What's going on in the world right now?

When is the last time I read a book or did something educational?

What are my hobbies? What are my habits? How do these things speak to my intelligence and who I am?

What are the things I want out of my education and what are my goals for this upcoming semester?

8. Dedicate time to your healing.

Just because everything looks perfect, doesn’t mean it will always be that way. This journey towards being that girl will not get rid of your need to heal.

Healing is a rugged path that one must travel their entire life...your journey in becoming the person of your dreams never ends. Give yourself grace on things that you didn't know before.

As always, I recommend journaling to understand your thought process. Sometimes, I look back at my entries in my diary and realize that things weren't as bad as they seemed. Sometimes, though, they were...and for my healing process it became crucial to (when I have the capacity) revisit the moments that shaped my perspective.

I know everyone says this, but there no shame in getting help. No amount of Doll Diaries I give you or confidence lessons/advice from others will matter if you are ignoring what fills your heart with dread at night. Like Megan thee Stallion says, bad b*tches have bad days too.

I am in therapy and I take medications for my mental illnesses, and that made all the difference. Tips are in my mental health tag.

I recommend a spiritual routine that works for you. This may include meditating, praying, going to church, taking quiet time...it's all up to you, but it gives me purpose and structure when feeling existential.

Dedicate life to something bigger than yourself. Remain on the path by upkeeping discipline. Outside influences can lead you astray, but you are the difference between stumbling and getting up, and stumbling and remaining flat on your face. This will involve giving up certain things, such as music or shows or even people that push you further away from what you believe in.

Lastly, have a list of coping mechanisms that you review in crisis. Often, things get overwhelming and we won’t get the chance to sit down and journal or go read something. With that, it’s helpful to make a list of things that you know will help you cope and survive no matter what (while acknowledging the absence of these means you’re getting bad again.)

Here is a very small portion of my list:

cleaning my space

spending time with my dog

playing video games

writing, drawing, music

Ask yourself:

When's the last time I had a break without feeling guilty or lazy?

What positive practices do I have in place to keep me stable? What negative practices do I have in place that prevent me from being stable?

How am I currently working towards improving my mental state? What do I know about myself mentally and spiritually, and how can I use that to transcend?

9. Learn the art of detachment.

People talk about being unbothered, but I don't think everyone truly understands what that means. In this Dollhouse, unbothered does not mean being nonchalant and void of all emotions. Feelings are natural, and I am not sure where someone mixed that up. What creates "unbothered" energy and "detachment" is by realizing you cannot control everything and that majority of the time, it isn't personal. This is one of the hardest lessons out there.

Ask yourself:

Is this really in my control?

How can I focus on the present moment?

And ultimately, remember you cannot fix or please anyone. Keep your composure even in the face of negativity. Your reactions and perceptions to everything you deal with is the most important thing, and will be the common denominator when it comes down to your experiences. Two books I read that changed my perspective and helped me maintain this lifestyle on this was The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz and Think Like a Monk by Jay Shetty.

10. Above all, live in YOUR world!!!

Make your world exclusive. Keep certain things for yourself so it retains sacredness. Be your own best friend before anyone else. Learn to embrace your own company. Don't always be accessible. Cultivate richness in your life...be willing to take risks and have a variety of experiences.

The main and most important question to ask yourself is: What does my dream world look like?

This is where the Doll Life comes into play. Barbie was marketed as being an all around sweetheart and "girl boss" with the dream life. Bratz were marketed as having individuality and a dream world experience driven by passion.

Both have core values in making sure young girls dreamed big and remained authentic. Honorable mention: Disney, as they did a great job at emphasizing dreams can come true with Disney princesses.

What I want my version of a Doll Life to be marketed as is a world where we indulge in endless possibilities and be multiple versions of ourselves at once. Where we feel like something wonderful could happen, even in the midst of trials.

We can be gentle, yet demanding. We can be feminine with masculine energy, and vice versa. We don't have to choose between one aesthetic or the other. We don't have to conform to the world, because we are in it and not of it. Dolls are seen as "perfect", and that's just the thing, I don't want my brand to be a cookie cutter definition! That's why I say I am the Doll that no one can play with. To be a Doll means to be uniquely you and standing out amongst the rest. It's a mindset, it's a lifestyle.

Don't box yourself in... remember growing up the dream life of Bratz and Barbie refused to box themselves in and remained true to themselves. Live without limits!!! Dreams really can come true. And this Dollhouse is a safe space to DREAM!!!

Even if you don't believe it now, day by day, if you start dedicating yourself to this and remain congruent with your philosophy, you will be more than you could ever imagine. It took so much time for me to do this, but my life is forever changed. So indulge in your wishes, and create your own "life of luxury" or "dream world". Simply live by YOUR rules, and use mine as a outline to get started. I can't wait to see what all of you come up with. I hope this helps Dolls!!! *gives you the keys to your suite in the dollhouse* Proud of you!!!

xoxo,

thevirgodoll ♡

see also:

confidence tag

other doll diaries

advice

#dolldiaries #I worked really hard on this so please boost!#this is my last big post on here everything will now be moved to my website #:)#doll diaries #my brand

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suddencolds · 10 days

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Atypical Occurrence [1/?]

Happy birthday to my dear friend, @caughtintherain!! I wanted to give you some Vincent suffering to chew on for the occasion, so please take this fic (or, first part of a fic) as a gift <3

this is an OC fic - here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! chronologically, this fic takes place a month or so after the last installment leaves off :)

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit)

—

Vincent is late.

Yves tries not to stare at the empty seat across from him. The meeting—their first meeting of the day—started five minutes ago. If there’s anything Yves knows, it’s that Vincent always comes in early.

In stumbles Cara, handling a morning coffee with probably more espresso shots than anyone should have at 8am. Then Laurent, briefcase in one hand, paging through a folder of files in his other. Then Angelie, Isaac, Garrett, Ray, Sienna. Then they get started, and Yves turns his attention towards the graphs projected onscreen at the front of the room, and tries very hard not to think about Vincent.

It’s five minutes later that the door swings open, near-silent.

Sienna—who’s presenting—stops, for a moment, to look back at Vincent from where he’s standing in the doorway, which means that of course, everyone looks.

Cara turns around in her seat, raising an eyebrow. Angelie frowns at him.

“Sorry I’m late,” Vincent says, quietly. “It won’t happen again.”

Isaac shrugs. Angelie looks a little concerned, but she turns back to her work, anyways. Sienna resumes her presentation. All in all, it’s nothing—or it should be nothing. Probably traffic, on the way here; a particularly unlucky commute. An unlikely occurrence, but—to anyone else—not anything worth dwelling over.

It might be a sufficient explanation, if Yves didn’t know better.

Vincent takes care to close the door quietly behind him, then heads over to the only open seat, across from Yves. He unzips his briefcase, quietly, unobtrusively, and takes out his laptop. Yves tries to focus on what Sienna is saying—she’s giving a review of a client’s current investment strategies; he’d reviewed her work on this just a couple days ago.

Vincent asks good questions throughout—he always has a good sense of what areas still lack clarity, Yves has found. Today is no exception. He takes part in the meeting with such calculated precision that Yves almost misses it.

Almost misses: the slight stiffness to his shoulders, as if it’s taking more than the usual amount of effort to keep himself upright. The way in which he clears his throat before speaking, like it might actually hurt. The way he rests his head on one hand, halfway into the meeting—as if even now, barely forty minutes into the workday, he’s already exhausted.

It’s subtle enough to go unnoticed, subtle enough that Yves wonders if he’s just reading too much into it—if, perhaps, Vincent is fine, after all.

—

He doesn’t see Vincent again until lunch.

Or, more accurately, he doesn’t see Vincent again until he’s headed down for lunch with Cara and Laurent. Vincent is already on his way out of the cafeteria, a takeout container in hand.

“You’re not going to eat here?” Yves asks.

Vincent doesn’t look at him. “I have some work to get done at my desk,” he says. He clears his throat again, like it’s irritating him.

“Okay,” Yves says. Vincent turns to leave, and Yves thinks of a hundred ways in which he could possibly prolong this conversation, and then decides against it. Vincent is already so busy.

“You look tired,” he settles on, instead.

He expects Vincent to dismiss this, to reassure him that it isn’t true. But Vincent looks up at him at last, blinking, as if he’s surprised that Yves noticed at all. His eyes are a little dark-rimmed underneath his glasses.

He doesn’t deny it, which is as much of a confirmation as Yves needs.

“The sooner I can get this work done, the sooner I can go home,” he says. Yves supposes he can’t argue with that.

“I guess I’ll see you around, then,” Yves says, even though he wants to say more, even though he feels like there’s more that he should be saying. “Don’t work too hard.”

Vincent nods, at this, and resumes walking.

—

Yves is probably overthinking it. There isn’t anything concrete, really, to justify his concern.

Vincent’s lateness to the meeting could just as easily be the consequence of an alarm he’d forgotten to set, his exhaustion just as easily a side effect—of recent late nights in the office, of arbitrary changes to the projects he’s on, of last-minute demands from clients.

The next time he sees Vincent is at the end of the work day. Yves always takes the elevators on the north end of the building—they’re ones that lead directly out into the parking garage. When he gets out to the hallway, Vincent is already standing there, waiting for the elevator.

Yves watches Vincent stiffen, slightly. Watches him raise one hand up to his face to shudder into it with a harsh, “HHihH’iKKTSh-hUH!”

A thin tremor runs through the line of his shoulders, as if he’s too cold, even though the office air conditioning is no colder than usual. His hand, cupped to his face, remains there for a moment more before he lowers it.

He sniffles, then, rummaging through his pocket for—something. When he doesn’t find it, he just frowns a little, sniffling again.

“Bless you,” Yves says.

“Yves,” Vincent says, his shoulders stiffening a little. He clears his throat, turning around so that he can address Yves properly.

It’s only a few seconds later that he’s turning sharply away, tenting both hands over his nose and mouth for—

“Hh-! hHiH—HIHh’DZSSschh-uhh! snf-!”

“Bless you again.”

Vincent sighs. “Don’t bother.” He really looks exhausted, Yves realizes. During their brief interaction at lunch, he’d already sensed as much, but the harsh white glare of the bright corporate lighting only makes it more evident.

Vincent looks a little paler than usual, if only slightly, and there’s a slight flush that spreads itself over his cheekbones. He looks—well, nearly as put together as always, distilled only by the slight crookedness of his tie, as if it’s been on too tight; the near-invisible sheen of sweat over his forehead. The slight redness to the bridge of his nose, the slight shiver to his hand as he reaches up to adjust his collar.

Yves frowns, taking this all in. “You look kind of…”

“Terrible?” Vincent finishes for him.

Yves winces. “...Well, terrible is a strong word. I was going to say, you look like you could use some sleep.”

“I’m… feeling a little off,” Vincent says, staring straight ahead, as if it’s not an admission at all. But Yves suspects, from the way he avoids eye contact, that perhaps it was something he was intending on keeping private. “You should keep your distance.”

The elevator dings. The sliding doors part, and he steps inside.

“First floor?” Yves asks, hesitating next to the panel of buttons.

“Yes,” Vincent says. Then, quietly: “Thanks.”

“You know, now that busy season is over, the world is not going to end if you take a sick day,” Yves tells him. “Even if you do like, twice the amount of work as everyone else on the team, if you needed to call out, I’m sure something could be arranged.”

Vincent smiles at him, a little wryly. “I must look pretty bad if you’re saying this to me.”

“Yes, I was lying,” Yves says. “Clearly, you look terrible.”

It isn’t true at all—even here, even like this, Vincent doesn’t look terrible, not even in the least. But Vincent still smiles, at this—a tired smile.

The elevator doors slide open.

“Text me if you need anything,” Yves says, impulsively. “Seriously. Tissues, soup, medicine—whatever. It’s not far of a drive.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” Vincent says. “I will see you tomorrow.” And then he steps out of the elevator, and Yves is left with an inexplicable sinking feeling in his stomach. As far as he knows, it has no place there. Obviously, Vincent can take care of himself. Obviously, Vincent can handle a cold. Yves has nothing to be concerned about.

—

The next day is rainy—a constant, torrential downpour, which makes his commute to work take almost twice as long as it usually does. It wouldn’t be spring here, Yves supposes, without dreary weather like this.

Back in uni, when he rowed crew, they’d practice out for hours out in the rain. Now that he spends the majority of his day inside, he supposes he can’t complain. The shelter of the office building is a reprieve.

Vincent doesn’t show up.

“I think he’s out sick,” Cara says, when Yves asks. “You know, it’s funny. I don’t think I’ve actually seen him take a sick day before.”

“For how hard he works, he definitely deserves one,” Garrett says.

“He seemed fine yesterday, when I saw him,” Cara says, with a shrug. “Probably came on quickly.” Yves nods.

But that isn’t quite right, is it? Vincent hadn’t seemed fine, had he? Yves thinks back to the things he’d noticed—Vincent, uncharacteristically exhausted during the meeting, though it was clear he’d been just as engaged as usual. Vincent, shivering in the elevator, telling Yves to keep his distance. How poorly had he been feeling already, yesterday? How poorly does he have to be feeling today to have called off of work for it?

He finds some time just before lunch to text.

Y: how are you holding up? Y: yesterday’s offer stands if you need me to bring you anything!

He doesn’t get a response from Vincent, which is a little concerning. He checks his phone halfway through lunch, and then twice more, in between his afternoon meetings, just in case he’s missed a notification.

“Are you expecting a text from someone?” Cara says, looking a little curious.

“Just a friend,” Yves says, which is and isn’t true.

To make a point—to Cara, and possibly to himself—he shuts his phone off. He very pointedly does not look at it again for the remainder of the hour.

It’s not until mid-afternoon that he finally gets a response.

V: Sorry to get back to you so late.

Yves sits upright, fumbling with his phone to get it unlocked. The text bubble pops up again, somewhat intermittently, to show that Vincent is typing.

V: If it’s not too much trouble, there’s a blue folder on my desk labeled 2-A.

Yves blinks at this, a little disbelieving.

Y: you’re asking me to bring you work files? Y: arent you supposed to be resting 🤨 Y: paid sick leave, remember? as in, leave your work at work??

V: I meant to pack them yesterday.

Y: that’s like a genie grants you 3 wishes and you ask for an extra day of assignments Y: terrible waste of a wish if you ask me

V: As a genie, you’re quite judgmental

Y: ok ok Y: as your loyal lamp dweller i’ll be over around 8pm with folder 2-A Y: you need anything else?

V: Nothing else V: You can just leave them outside my door

A beat. Then Vincent sends:

V: Sorry to trouble you

Yves thinks of twenty responses he wants to send to that text. Then, thinking better of himself, he shuts his phone off and gets back to work.

—

It’s a little past seven when he finally checks out of the office.

Outside, the rain hasn’t even begun to let up—it falls, straight and heavy, in large, globular droplets. The streets gleam with water. Yves leaves his umbrella in the trunk, tunes out everything but the static of the rainfall, and drives.

Yves has only ever been to Vincent’s apartment once—to pick him up for the New Years’ party Margot hosted—and even then, Vincent had met him at the door. But he recognizes the unit, nonetheless.

For a moment, he considers leaving the folder of files outside of Vincent’s door and taking his leave.

But it’s windy, and he’s afraid the papers might fly away, torn up by the biting wind, and get lost face down in a puddle somewhere, which would defeat the purpose of him coming here in the first place, and would probably also breach some employee confidentiality policy. So instead, he knocks.

It’s silent for a moment. Rain beats down on the slanted rooftops, a constant thrum.

Yves is about to reach out to knock again, when the door swings open.

There stands Vincent, in a pale blue hoodie and loose-fitting pajama pants, with neat rectangular cuffs.

He looks tired. It’s the first thing Yves registers—the unusual fatigue to his expression, which he can’t quite seem to blink away; the flush high on his cheekbones. The way he holds himself, his shoulders stiff, carefully, defensively; as if despite his exhaustion, there’s a part of him which wishes to appear presentable still.

It’s only a moment later that he’s taking a halting step back, ducking into a hoodie sleeve. Yves catches the shiver of his expression, his eyebrows pulling together, before it crumples, and his head jerks forward with a harsh—

“hHihh’GKkTT—! Hh-!! iHH-’DZZSCHh-uuUh!”

The second sneeze sounds louder and harsher than usual, even muffled into the fabric of his sleeve. It betrays his congestion all at once.

“Bless you,” Yves says.

Vincent emerges, sniffling a little. When he speaks, he sounds a little hoarser than he did yesterday. “I thought I said you - snf-! - could leave them on the front step.”

“You did,” Yves says, glancing down at the folder in his hands. “But it’s windy, and it’s raining. I figured you’d prefer to have your files intact. How are you feeling?”

Vincent blinks at him. He’s leaning heavily against the doorframe, Yves realizes, one hand gripped tightly around the frame, his knuckles white from the pressure, as if it would take him too much effort to stay upright otherwise.

“Alright,” he answers. “Thanks for making the trip here. I… it must’ve taken longer, in the rain.” He squeezes his eyes shut, as if his head hurts, as if the light coming from outside is exacerbating his headache. “If you ever need me to pick something up for you, I owe you.”

“You don’t owe me anything,” Yves says. Despite himself, he reaches up to press his hand against Vincent’s forehead.

The heat under his fingertips is alarming, to say the least. Yves blinks, lowering his hand, and tries to keep the worry out of his voice. “Have you taken your temperature?”

Vincent shakes his head. “I don’t think I have a thermometer.”

“Have you eaten, then?”

Vincent averts his glance, looking sheepish. “I… was planning to stop for groceries, yesterday,” he says. Planning to.

Yves thinks back to the elevator ride yesterday. Vincent had probably already been feeling very unwell, then. And yet, he’d talked with Yves as if nothing was out of the ordinary. I’m feeling a little off, he’d said, as if anything about his current affliction could possibly be characterized as “little.” I will see you tomorrow—as if he had really, genuinely been intending on showing up at work.

“So I take it that there’s nothing in the fridge, either,” Yves says.

“If it’s any consolation, you’ll be pleased to know that I slept,” Vincent says, in lieu of answering.

Then he shivers—the sort of concerning, full-body shiver that is a little concerning, coming from someone who is usually unaffected by the cold—and Yves is immediately reminded that the door they’re speaking through is open.

“Can I come in?” he asks.

“You probably shouldn’t,” Vincent says, before his expression scrunches up, and he’s ducking away with a— “hh—! hHih-II—TSSCHHh-UH! snf-!”, smothered hurriedly into the palm of his hand. He sniffles, emerging with a slight wince. “This came on pretty quickly. It might be the flu.”

“It’s fine,” Yves says. “I got my flu shot in the winter. And anyways, I’ll be careful.”

Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Then, frowning, he says, “I’d feel terrible if you caught this.”

That’s the least of Yves’s worries—he doubts he’s going to catch this. Even if he does, it will just mean a few days off of work. Not the end of the world, by any means. Nothing to warrant the expression on Vincent’s face—Vincent looks upset, as if he’ll really can’t think of anything worse than Yves catching this. Like even the thought of it is worth being upset over.

Yves shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it, seriously.” He pushes past Vincent to step inside and shuts the door behind him. “Here, I’ll set these down on your desk. Where is it?”

“Down the hallway, to the left,” Vincent says.

Yves takes the folder, leaves his shoes at the door, and heads inside.

Vincent’s bedroom is small and organized—it’s the kind of bedroom that’s tastefully minimal, in the sort of unified manner that implies that everything in it has been carefully arranged. There’s a small white desk in the corner, a stack of files arranged neatly next to Vincent’s laptop, its lid halfway to shut. There’s a bookshelf, leaned up against the wall far; the bottom shelf looks to be filled with textbooks; the top shelf lined with books, both in Korean and in English. The walls are painted slate gray, the carpets lining the floorboards picked out to match, and there are pale blue curtains hanging from the windows, pulled tightly shut.

There are signs here, too, of his illness, but they are subtle. A tissue box, nestled between his pillow and the headboard, half empty. A waste bin at the foot of the bed, conveniently in reach. A small bottle of aspirin on the bedside counter; an empty packet of cough drops sitting at the edge of his nightstand.

Yves sets the folder at the end of Vincent’s desk, next to the rest of his files, and turns to face him.

“You’re not going to work on these until you’re feeling better, right?” he asks.

“Only if I can’t sleep,” Vincent says, which Yves supposes is a satisfactory answer. Then he twists away, his eyebrows furrowing, lifting a loosely clenched fist to his face to cough, and cough.

The cough is harsh and grating—his entire frame shudders with the force of it, his breaths shallow and raspy. He really sounds awful. This must have come on quickly, Yves thinks.

If it’s upsetting, seeing Vincent like this, it’s even worse to be standing here, in his room, doing nothing. So—if only to make himself useful, if only to convince himself that there’s something he can do—Yves ducks out into the kitchen.

The pantry is meticulously organized—glasses lined up in neat rows; stacks of bowls sorted by size. He fills a glass with water, shuts the cabinets, and takes it back to the bedroom.

By the time he gets back, Vincent is sitting at the edge of his bed. His glasses are folded neatly, left at the very edge of the countertop.

“Here,” Yves says, crossing the room, holding out the glass for him to take.

“Thanks,” Vincent says, taking it gingerly from him. He takes a small, tentative sip, and then another—his hands are a little shaky, Yves notices. “You - snf-! - should really go.”

“I’m not entirely convinced you’ll be fine on your own,” Yves says.

“Of course I will be,” Vincent says, with all of his usual certainty. He lays down, pulling the covers over his body. “I have been fine on my own for years.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, Yves supposes. But he doesn’t feel reassured in the least.

“Thank you again for bringing me the files,” Vincent says, at last, shutting his eyes.

“You could’ve asked me to get you groceries,” Yves says. “There’s a supermarket not far from here, right? And you’re out of cough drops.” He takes a few steps over, towards the desk in the corner of the room. “These—” He examines the bottle of ibuprofen on the table. “—are expired.”

“Just because you’ve extended this kindness to me,” Vincent tells him, “doesn’t mean I should take advantage of it.”

Yves blinks, a little taken aback. “It’s only groceries. I wouldn’t have minded, really.”

“See,” Vincent says, with a note of—something in his voice. It sounds a bit like resignation. “That’s just the kind of person you are.”

Yves doesn’t know what to say, to that.

Before he can think up a fitting response, Vincent’s breathing evens out. Yves lets himself listen to the shallow, steady cadence of it. Lets himself acknowledge the heavy, painful feeling in his chest for just a moment. Then he shuts the lights off and heads back out into the hallway.

#snz fic #sneeze fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snz #i wanted to end somewhere more conclusive but i was falling asleep at my keyboard trying to end this so #please take this for now 🙏#my fic #it is very late rn so i am scheduling this for the middle of my work day tomorrow... now i need to run to sleep T.T #i will finish off the latter half of the house visit in the not too distant future!#yvverse #ps caughtintherain if you are reading this ily and i am so grateful to you for letting me consult you abt these two 😭😭 and i hope it's #okay for me to post this as a gift jafkhjfslk ANYWAYS pls read this at your leisure and happy birthday again!!!

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blouisparadise · 4 days

Text

Upon request, today we have the fifth part to our college/university rec list. If you'd like to check out the first several parts, you can find part one here, part two here, part three here, and part four here. Please be sure to like and reblog this post to help spread the word. Happy reading!

1) I Can't Get You Off My Mind (I Still Crave It) | Mature | 4,531 words

"You're an idiot," It was Lya's time to interrupt. "Why would you want another guy when you already have yours? Don't you ever get tired of those silly games?" "It is different!," Louis defended himself again, mouth open. "How come it is different?," Lya asked again. "I love Harry," it was easy like breathing. "He's the love of my life, I'm going to marry him," Louis looked around, until his eyes looked with Harry's, glossy and vibrant. "That guy was just a hook."

2) Azaleas Where Your Face Should Be | Explicit | 5,626 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry and Louis having some sexy time and some sappy time and sometimes both at the same time.

3) Spaces Between Us, Hold All Our Secrets | Not Rated | 6,441 words

The thing about Harry is, is that he is the most wonderful guy you´ll ever meet. He is kind, compliments you on things you are usually insecure about, which shows he truly pays attention to who you are as a person. And he befriends everyone. Except Louis.

4) Cut Me Up, Kiss Me Harder | Mature | 9,431 words

A group of friends, a slightly drunk alternate version of spin the bottle, and the universe having a wicked sense of humour may just be enough to bring one bratty omega and a tired-of-said-omega’s-bullshit alpha closer than they’ve ever been. In more ways than one.

5) Hook You Up (Charm You Down) | Explicit | 9,600 words

Swiftly, Harry raises his right hand to his head. Bringing two ringed fingers up, he touches the brown hat sitting on his head, tipping it with a raise of eyebrows in the direction of Peter Pan. He punctuates the whole action with his signature smirk. The reaction is almost immediate. Like Harry hoped it’d be. Though he expected the grin he received, he can’t say he directly expected the man to come forward his way. But he surely isn’t going to complain. “Captain! Fancy seeing you there,” Peter Pan says when he reaches Harry’s space. And wow. Seeing it from up close, Niall was right. Face of an angel, totally Harry’s type and all that.

6) The One Who Stays And The One Leaving You | Mature | 10,315 words

Fuck. He had just slept with none other than Harry Styles.

7) Behind Closed Doors | Explicit | 10,332 words

“You should ask that whoever he’s currently fucking.” Liam’s eyes grow wide. “No.” His tone is unbelieving, just like Louis’ would’ve been if you had told him what turn today would take. “Yes.” “How do you know?” Louis’ room mate’s eyes barely leave him as he tries to untie his shoes without looking. “Went to his dorm earlier, found a sock on his door handle. He’s such an arsehole.”

8) Sunshine On My Mind | Explicit | 12,704 words

Seeing Harry as an actual professor will never get old to Louis as his eyes soak him in. The casual attire of a student-teacher is gone and now Harry’s got on a button up under a sweater vest that both have stripes on it because someone with a face like Harry’s can actually pull that off. His beige trousers ride up high on his waist, loose and wide around the legs like he’s been preferring lately. By the time Louis’ done taking all of him in, he’s got a smile stretched wide across his face, cheekbones feeling like they’re about to burst just from happiness alone. “Hello Professor Styles."

9) You Know It Ain’t Fiction, Just a Natural Fact | Not Rated | 13,312 words

Harry is the golden boy of the college football's team, Louis is their professors' golden student and they definitely don't have anything in common. Falling in love would be dumb.

10) Kiss Me Once, Kiss Me Twice | Mature | 13,487 words

“You’re a fucking brat, you know that,” Harry muttered through clenched teeth, bones already burning with the pure desire and hatred mixing in his body. It was an intoxicating rush of adrenaline and something else that probably came with fucking Louis Tomlinson. He squeezed his neck just a little tighter. “I can’t stand it.” Their lips were brushing against each other, just moving with the ragged movements of their mouths and harsh breathing. “You’re a lying piece of shit dickhead,” Louis muttered right back. That was all he did, challenge and nag. He loved to have the last word and Harry let him because he used all his energy to fuck him mindless.

11) Wake Me Up With It | Mature | 13,699 words

“Oh god, I sound like a rapist now.” Louis gave a soft, sympathetic giggle, shifting on top of him, and that was when he noticed he was hard, as well. “No, Haz. You fucking me while I'm still asleep and waking up to a dick in my arse? That sounds fucking hot.” “I’d, like, discuss it before. Like get consent for it before.” “Obviously,” Louis rolled his eyes, staring up at Harry with a sad expression. “I’d let you do that to me, Harry.” “What?” Harry blinked, sure the world was ending by those words he never thought he’d ever hear in his life. The words sounded muffled to him, like he was swimming.

12) I Couldn't Face A Life Without Your Lights | Mature | 15,549 words

Louis and Harry are college students who haven't been the same in the past two years.

13) Give My Heart A Holiday | Not Rated | 17,222 words

AU where Louis and someone else both like Harry but Harry obviously likes Louis and is oblivious to the other person with scenes like Harry’s sitting with his legs on the coffee table and the other person wants to walk across and Harry doesn’t see them, so they have to say excuse me, but when Louis wants to cross he doesn’t even have to say anything because Harry sits up, puts his feet down, and gives his undivided attention to Louis.

14) There’s A Hole In My Heart (And It’s Got Your Name On It) | Explicit | 19,508 words

The four scream from the stands as the team huddles together, pulling their helmets and gloves off and slapping each other's backs as they celebrate their win. Louis had stolen a pom-pom from Mal earlier and he shakes it vigorously. His breath hitches when Harry looks up and their eyes meet. The hockey player smirks at him but looks away quickly. “Did he just-” “No.” Louis quickly stops Jade from even finishing that sentence because he’s about to lose his damn mind

15) Kiss And Tell (Me A Lie) | Explicit | 19,827 words

It takes three friends, a video game, and an arse tattoo for Harry to realize the truth.

16) Lovin’ Online | Not Rated | 27,627 words

“Huh?” Harry asks, muffled by his forearm. He feels lips on his face and the tip of Louis’ nose against his ear when Louis repeats himself. Brain sluggish with sleep, it takes a moment for him to process the words, but his eyes snap open, and he’s met with darkness. He's got to be dreaming, there’s no way Louis just said what he thinks he said. “What did you say?” He can see the vague shrug from Louis before he turns around to toss the towel with the pile of their discarded clothes. “Did you say…” he starts slowly, automatically slinging his arm around Louis as he gets back into bed and throws the blankets over them. “That we should make a sex tape?” Louis asks rather nonchalantly for such a big proposition. He cuddles easily into the warm body and confirms, “Yes, I did.”

17) Science & Faith | Mature | 36,442 words

Louis Tomlinson is a science major who's dedicated his life to proving that love doesn't actually exist. Harry's the philosophy major determined to prove him wrong.

18) You Could Be The One That I Love | Explicit | 39,797 words

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Niall waved off. “Now, let’s talk man to man to man. You two have had a crush on each other since uni. Now’s your chance to finally get something going. I could see the sparks and connection and attraction back then and I can still see it now, God damn it! You’re just denying fate at this point.” He looked impassioned, his blue eyes wide and imploring. Louis shook his head again and chuckled. “You can’t just snap your finger and expect us to, like, get it on.” “I’m not,” he reasoned. “I’m merely telling you to do something about it.”

19) Sink Into Your Sunlight | Explicit | 79,562 words

Louis hadn’t forgotten about Harry as much as he tried. It wasn’t due to the strange nature of their meeting, more so the magnetic pull he somehow had on Louis. He couldn’t fathom why this complete stranger stayed in his mind as much as he tried to stop it. Any time his phone sounded his heart skipped a beat at the thought of it possibly being Harry. In all honesty, it made him feel sort of pathetic. Gay guy falls for straight guy, what a cliche he had become.

20) Nothing Quite Hits Like You | Explicit | 81,098 words

For many centuries, Inferis Lamia had been a college strictly for higher magic alphas, where most rulers of the Underworld had reached their Divine Enlightenment to become the alphas they were now. However, that year, for the first time since it was founded many centuries ago, the academy would welcome omegas from the Underworld, giving them the same opportunities alphas had, the same education.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#bottom louis #top harry #larry #fic recs #blp #blp fic recs #college/university

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geralts-yenn · 11 months

Text

Something like that - Part 1

Syverson (Sandcastle) x female reader (second-person pov) I tried to be as inclusive as possible (there's always room for improvement, please let me know how to do better...)

summary: this is the sequel to bonfire - Sy is finally taking you on a date

warnings: mentioning of masturbation, fingering, p-i-v sex (non barrier contraception - our sweeties are exclusive and have discussed protection)

word count: 3,5k

A/N: I got asked about the first date that my bonfire Sy promised at the end. Thank you for that, nonnie!😘

And then I started off with an idea, and then there was another, and another.... And when I was at 3,5k words and felt like I was halfway through the story, I decided I had to split this into two parts. So be patient, Sy is not done yet with reader...

Inspo boards for this part can be found here!

I'd love to get some feedback. Please don't hesitate to reblog, comment, ask. Like all my fellow writers, I long for every bit of interaction with my readers. If you want to make my day, hit reblog and tell me what you think🥰

taglist: @raccoon-eyed-rebel @deandoesthingstome @mayloma @fvckinghenrycavill @ylva-syverson @ellethespaceunicorn @kebabgirl67 @dopegardensaladhuman @kingliam2019 @peyton-warren

(please let me know if you want to be added or removed)

My masterlist

You were smiling when you heard the notification on your phone. Since Sy had taken you home after the night at the bonfire, he sent you a photo of him every morning. And every day these photos were getting more suggestive.

Today was no exception, and you spat your coffee over the table in surprise as you saw the picture of him, holding his mug in position to cover his bits, because - he wasn't wearing anything. A smug smile was playing on his lips. “Tonight's the night,“ was the text he sent you with it.

You hadn’t been able to see each other all week, but tonight Sy was finally taking you on a date.

You weren’t exactly nervous, but you had to admit you felt giddy when you thought about seeing him again, knowing that he felt the same for you as you did for him. After this long time of longing, you could finally be together. It wouldn’t be you if you didn’t get a little anxious.

What if this isn’t going the way you had dreamed about it so often? What if Sy realizes he doesn’t like you that much? What if you said something stupid…?

But then you tried to calm yourself down. You had been talking to each other every night and it went great. You had never laughed so much with a guy and this was something that you really could get used to.

It was exactly 6pm when you heard the loud noise of a motorcycle. You looked out to the street and in fact, Sy was parking a bike in front of your house. A minute later the bell rang, and you were answering through the intercom. “Third floor” you told him and pressed the button to open the door.

You just realized how stupid it was to say that. He must have visited Megan in this apartment before, they were friends for years.

You opened the door to your apartment and Sy was almost there, taking two steps at once. He wasn’t even out of breath when he stood before you, smiling.

“Hi, beautiful!” he greeted you and gave you a small peck on your cheek.

“Is this all I get?” you pouted at him, and with his smile growing wider, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. The kiss he pressed onto your lips now was nothing like that first one. It was fierce and greedy and hot. You opened your mouth for him and his tongue immediately started exploring and tasting you.

When you finally pulled back, you both gasped for air and both of you were smiling like idiots.

“So, we’re riding your bike?” you asked him with a raised eyebrow. Sy didn’t let you know what he had planned for you, so deciding what to wear was difficult enough. But now you stood there in your sundress and knew it wasn’t the right decision after all.

Sy nodded with a guilty look on his face.

„Sorry, last-minute decision. My truck let me down once again. So, it’s either my bike or you driving.“ He shrugged, looking apologetic.

„I’m fine with the bike. Just come in for a minute, so I can get changed.“ You stepped back from the door to let him in. Sy rubbed his hand over his scalp and this shy gesture melted your heart.

As he entered your apartment you took in his appearance. He was wearing a blue Henley shirt that accentuated his beautiful eyes. Tight-fitting jeans hugged his thighs exactly in the right places. And the brown leather jacket could hardly hide what a bulk of a man he was. You were a lucky girl for sure!

You gestured for him to sit down as you hurried into your bedroom. There were piles of clothes spread over your bed, and you grabbed a simple black shirt and some skinny jeans. A minute later, you were back at Sy and, considering the way his eyes traveled over your curves, you had made the right choices.

You took your leather jacket and your backpack and held out your hand for Sy. He took it with a grin and let you try to pull him up from your couch. He didn't help with his weight, so you didn't stand a chance. Instead, Sy snorted and pulled at your arm himself, and you found yourself on his lap the next second.

"I like you on top of me!" he whispered in your ear with his voice even lower than usual. Then he started to kiss you once more.

Right when you thought your date would both start and end with the two of you making out on your couch, Sy got up with you still cradled in his arms. He carried you to your door where he let you back down to your feet slowly. "Let's get you something to eat, sugar!" he told you and pressed a kiss on your nose.

It had been a while since you were sitting on a motorbike, but with your arms around Sy's waist, you felt like it was the best place to be in the world.

You enjoyed the wind in your hair and the scents that filled your nose as Sy drove you along fields and meadows.

After some time, the scenery changed into mountains. The road took a lot of turns and curves that made you enjoy the ride even more, as you clung to Sy’s body every time he tilted the bike around the corners.

Another fifteen minutes later, you saw where Sy was taking you to. There was a huge ferris wheel and other rides, crowds of people making their way around food stalls and stages.

When he stopped the engine, you hopped down onto the ground, your legs still trembling from the vibrations of the bike ride. Sy immediately wrapped an arm around your waist and kissed your forehead.

"You good?" he asked and you just nodded. Another small peck on your temple and then Sy guided you through the crowds. He asked you where you wanted to go first. You didn't need time to think about it, a smile plastered over your face as you turned to the huge swing ride.

"Oh fuck!" Sy groaned as he realized. "I've never been in one of those. I can't promise I won't get sick." You chuckled as you saw that big bear of a man nervously gulping as he watched the chairs flying around the pole.

"Come on, Sy! You can hold my hand if it makes you feel better!" you teased him. You couldn't believe this was what made the big army captain feel anxious. And it amused you way more than it should.

When you were seated, you held out your arm, and you couldn't help but fall even more for him as you felt Sy's big warm hand wrapping around yours.

Just another minute later, all the doubts were washed away from Sy's face and he was grinning from ear to ear as your chairs whirled over the festival grounds. He even asked you for a second round.

But after that, you could convince him to get some food. You strolled along the stalls and decided to get some burgers.

Sy ate two of them and helped you with your fries when you couldn't fit any more into you. Smiling, you brushed some barbecue sauce from his beard and kissed him.

When you both had finished your meal, you meandered around the stands, holding hands. Sy got you some cotton candy and you headed to a calmer area at the side of the fair, where the two of you sat down on the grass. After you put the last bit of sugary fluff into your mouth, Sy licked over your lips, stealing a kiss from you.

"You're the sweetest thing, darlin" he drawled into your ear, brushing his lips once more over your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin.

"Good decision?" he asked you, smiling.

You mirrored the soft look on his face. "Letting you take me on a date? Definitely yes!" you nudged your elbow playfully into his ribs, but he didn’t even flinch.

Sy chuckled. "I was more thinking about if you liked the festival but good to know you don't regret that night at the bonfire yet."

You saw the mischief in his eyes, he knew exactly what he made you feel. But that didn’t stop him from teasing you further. “How about my messages? Did you like those, too?”

Oh, yes, you did like them, a lot. You noticed heat crawling up your neck when you thought about that last picture he sent you this morning. And what you did after you saw it. His grin only got wider as he watched you, standing there with red ears, not answering.

“What?” he asked, laughing. You cleared your throat. Somehow you desperately needed a sip of water. Sy cheekily grinned at you, his eyebrows raised.

“I liked them,” you simply said. But Sy didn’t let go of that topic. “How much did you like that last one?” Without even noticing, you bit your lip as you thought about that selfie that showed almost every benefit Sy’s body had. You couldn’t fight back a small laugh. “Too much” you murmured.

That was undoubtedly what Sy was hoping for. “Tell me what it did to you, sugar.” His voice was deep as he dragged out his words.

Okay, he wouldn’t let go, he wanted you to tell him. So, it was time to be bold:

“I went back into my bedroom after I cleaned up the coffee that I spat all over the kitchen.” You were pleased as you noticed that tiny bit of surprise on Sy’s face over your confession. But this was just for a second before his expression fell back to the smug smile that you knew so well by now.

You didn’t think his voice could drop any lower, but it did. “What did you do in your bedroom?” Damn, he really wanted you to say it. Cheeky bastard! Maybe it was time to make him shut up.

“I dropped my panties and got rid of my shirt, too. Then I got my favorite toy out of my night stand. I put my phone with your photo on my pillow, started to tease myself with that rabbit vibrator and pinched my nipples with my other hand. I edged myself for several minutes, but then I came hard all over my hand, thinking of you.”

Now it was on you to give him a mischievous grin. Sy’s face showed something entirely different. His eyes were wide and dark. His gaze appeared to be hungry, almost feral.

Sy’s Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed hard. “We need to get away from here, now!” he said. “I need you somewhere where we’re alone” The way he said it made you press your thighs together in an unsuccessful attempt to keep your composure. You needed him, and he needed you.

You pulled him close and the kiss you pressed onto his lips was probably a little too much of PDA, but you just didn't care.

And Sy didn’t care either apparently. He got to his feet, pulling you with him. And as he guided you back to his motorcycle, the whole way back to the parking lot he couldn't keep his hands to himself. You felt them on the small of your back, on your arms, on your hips…

Without any further words, you got onto his bike. You were certain that Sy would bring you to his home, but after only a few minutes you realized he was driving in a different direction. You asked yourself where you were heading as Sy took a turn onto a narrow dirt road. The road led you through some woods and you were really glad that you trusted Sy. This wasn't a typical location choice for a first date.

But when Sy stopped his motorcycle, you were in awe. There was a cute little cabin in front of you, right by the edge of a lake. It had a wooden walkway that stretched from the house to the water.

Sy wordlessly guided you to the pier. He couldn't have used his mouth to talk because he just didn't stop spilling kisses all over your neck and shoulders.

While maneuvering you onto the deck, he managed to take off your jacket as well as his own. He threw both of them carelessly onto the floor.

"Sy, this is beautiful!" you told him and he just hummed in approval into your ear as he started lapping on your earlobe.

A gasp escaped your mouth at the sensation. That was a weak spot of yours. And Sy immediately took note of it and used it against you. Soon he had you squirming in his arms.

He led you to sink onto a large sun lounger and followed you, kneeling between your thighs. Sy definitely had just one goal right now and you couldn’t blame him. You had teased him just a little too much.

He worked on your jeans and after he was still struggling with the tight piece of clothes a minute later, you took pity on him and helped him to get the stubborn fabric down your thighs. Your shirt, on the other hand, was no challenge for Sy and so you were finally spread out in front of him, only in your panties and bra.

You had chosen your best set of lingerie for him, but Sy couldn’t have cared less right now. He opened your bra and tossed it to the side, sinking his face between your boobs.

His hands roamed over your sides, his fingers brushing with surprising tenderness over the swell of your breasts, your ribs and your waist. When they found the elastics of your panties, your last piece of garment was gone, too. As he sank his head further down your stomach, you stopped him. Sy gave you a displeased grunt as you tugged on his neck and pulled him up to your face again.

“I’ll let you do whatever you have on your mind in a minute, but please let me enjoy the view, too!” you purred. You tugged on his shirt and Sy took the hint in a second and hopped out of his clothes as fast as he could.

You couldn’t suppress a needy whimper as he towered over you, his cock standing proud between his thighs. The last time you had him naked in front of you, it was dark and you were nervous and confused. You were still a bit nervous, but this time you took your time to take in his breathtaking appearance.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his smug grin once more showing. You bit your lip and pulled him down to you.

“I like it very much. Now show me what it feels like.” You cupped his butt cheeks in a firm grip and grinded your hips up to him. You moaned as you felt his erection press against you. But Sy pulled out of your embrace as he lay down on his side next to you.

“Let me take care of you first, sugar,” he rustled in between placing soft kisses all over your throat and chest. His hand moved over your thighs and with gentle pressure on your knee, he parted them. You squirmed as his fingers made their way back up your inner thighs. Then they finally helped you ease the ache that throbbed in your core.

Sy’s fingers brushed through your slick folds and circled your clit, enticing desperate moans from you. Sy answered your sounds with a deep groan himself. His other hand joined his ministrations on your pussy, he gathered your arousal and then pushed one finger into you.

Your head fell back. As if he could sense your needs, he hit every spot just right. A second finger joined, and with every pump, you felt the tension building inside of you. A few more jolts and you snapped, your rapture washing over you.

Still trying to catch your breath, you opened your eyes to see that cheeky bastard’s face over you, his grin showing how pleased he was with what he’d done to you. He bent down for a heated kiss and moved to settle between your legs once more.

He positioned himself and then you felt how he sank into you. Taking his time, he slowly stretched your walls, inch for inch until he was finally buried in you to the hilt.

A deep growl rustled through his chest. “Taking me so well, princess!” he praised you. His strokes were slow. Too slow. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pressed your heels into his back. “Please!” you whimpered.

“So needy! What do you want, sugar? Use your words!” He stopped moving completely and gazed deeply into your eyes. He really got off by teasing you, wanted to hear you plead.

“Damn, Sy, stop making love and start fucking me!”

He chuckled satisfied and then he fulfilled your wish. His arms wrapped around your legs and pulled your hips up to him. He lay your calves on his shoulders and started to pound hard into you. The sounds of your bodies slamming together mixed with your pants and moans. Drops of sweat were running down Sy’s temples.

He spread his thighs further apart and with this he slammed into you even deeper than before. You watched his abs spasm with every thrust. His movements got more erratic. His grunts were desperate and shaky now. Just seeing him like this pushed you close to your second orgasm.

“Just like that!” you begged. “Please, I’m so close!” Sy moaned loudly at your confession. He tried to keep up his rhythm and finally, he felt your walls clench around his cock as he had brought you over the edge.

Sy pulled back, letting your ass and legs sink back onto the mattress. You winced in protest as he slipped out of you, but Sy pressed a hard kiss onto your lips. “Shhh, darlin.” he muttered. He towered between your legs and pumped himself, watching you as you lay before him in post orgasmic bliss. He needed just a few strokes and then thick ropes of cum spurted over your stomach and tits. With his hips quivering, he pressed the last drops of his semen out of him and then he slumped down next to you.

He pressed a kiss onto your temple and took some deep breaths. As you started to move, he stopped you by pressing a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, darlin!” he told you. “Please, let me take a photo of you!” He sounded so casual for asking something so filthy, you just couldn’t suppress a laugh.

“What, really?” You felt shy, but also kind of proud. The thought that he wanted to keep a memory of him marking you like that, felt strangely exciting.

You felt heat burning up your neck, but you nodded. Sy got up with a broad smile on his face and searched through his clothes that were spread all over the deck. He came back with his phone in his hand and pressed another small peck on your cheek before he leaned back and took some photos of you. You turned your head away, but Sy reassured you.

“You’re the most gorgeous thing ever, darlin! You can’t imagine what these pictures will do to me whenever I’m going to miss you.”

That made you laugh. You turned back to Sy, as he lay down beside you again. “I’m pretty sure I know what you will do with these pictures, Sy!” you told him, grinning. Sy mirrored your expression and winked. “The same thing as you did with my picture, sugar. We’re even now.”

You stirred on the lounger, slowly feeling more uncomfortable. You were still naked, it was getting colder and you still had Sy’s cum all over you.

“Sy...” you asked, “do I have to worry about the owner coming around the corner with a rifle or can we actually get into that cabin?”

Sy realized your struggle, and got up with a guilty grimace showing on his face.

“Stay, I’ll get you something to clean up.” he said. You admired his backside as he was wandering around on the pier in his birthday suit.

He grabbed his jacket and fished for some keys in its pocket. As he unlocked the door he turned to you, grinning. "My cousin owns the cabin, he knows we're here, so you should be safe."

A minute later, Sy came back with some towels in his arm and to your disappointment one wrapped around his waist. He sat down beside you and cleaned the reminiscents of his climax from your skin with a warm washcloth. Then he wrapped you up in a soft towel and kissed you softly.

Part 2

#something like that #syverson #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson x reader #bonfire series #my writing

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sugarcoatedcigs · 3 months

Text

♡ mini series: enduring you pt.2 ♡

[pt.1 right here]

a/n: it’s an understatement when i say i am WEEPING FOR BLACK TSHIRT ELLIE. (and no i am not talking about my eyes) anyways!

summary: ellie has been…off since your first interaction with her. at dina’s party, ellie and you share a joint alone. what will come of this?

word count: 1.7k

warnings: slow burn, alcohol and weed consumption, a lil angst :,)

well fuck. i swallow the knot that formed in my throat, hopefully ellie wasn't staining dina's opinion of me. dina then snapped me out of my thoughts, "well get in here silly." while coming in, i glanced at ellie where she had taken up half of the small couch with her manspreading. her hands were fidgeting with a cup she was holding.

dinas house was warm and inviting, just like her. i looked around every inch, except where ellie sat. i could feel her eyes on me. "wow nice place. it's got charm." dina smiled wider, "isn't it great? why don't i get you some tea?" before i said anything she was already out of the living room. goddamnit dina. you leave when i need you most. i pretended to look more around the house but then ellie cleared her throat.

"so we're neighbors huh?" her voice was gruff and bored. i paused at my looking around to meet her gaze, she was looking through her hung eyes with disinterest. responding with the same bored tone, i said "uh huh. neighbors." there was a drawn out pause then she started again, "you can come by anytime i guess." her eyes dropped to the ground, and she scratches her lips. that's something i wasn't expecting.

before i could reply, dina came in with a cup of tea for me. "it's chamomile from the town garden. i put some honey in it too." she passed me the cup and then ellie stood up suddenly and made her way towards the door. her eyes met mine again and they slowly dropped until they were back on the ground. opening the door she nodded at dina, "i should get going. bye d." she closed the door leaving me a lil stunned. why was she acting weird? i mean i only have had a few interactions with her but this one was different. "what's with her?" dina hummed lowly, "poor thing. she got dumped today." i debated telling dina about this mornings interruption with my sleep, but i decided against it. the situation must complicated, better to stay out of it.

...

dina and i wrapped up after i was done with my tea. now i was back at my apartment, getting giddy as dina's party was approaching.

for tonight, i decided on a black sleeve that just so happens to be showing just a little lil cleavage. and the usual jeans, with my only puffy jacket. should be good. i was going to be late if i didn't leave now so i hurried out the door.

...

i opened the door to an unknown smell. it smelled pungent and earthy. i took my jacket and scarf off and out of 20ish people i spotted dina in a corner with jesse. while making my way towards them i saw ellie, she was with someone and they looked both upset. that must be the girlfriend. ellie, was dressed in a black tee shirt and some rough jeans. her hair pulled back half up half down. her eyebrows furrowed as she looked frustrated. i squeezed my thighs together as i took in her muscles peeking out of the shirt.

"hey y/n!" dina called out to me, interrupting my staring. she was smiling bright as always. when i got into earshot i asked, "what's that smell?" she giggled, "its weed for the party, ellie got it. have you tried some before? ask her for some." dina and i looked over to ellie in unison, where she was still arguing with her girlfriend. then dina winced, "well maybe ask later. you want a beer in the meantime? we also got some tequila over in the kitchen." i smiled, "i'm feeling tequila. i'll be back." when entering the kitchen i spotted the liquor and poured myself a lil shot, i shot it back feeling the liquor wash down my throat. i felt immediately warmer and excited. then music started to play in the other room and everyone started to dance. i happily joined in and started to dance with dina. a busty bass song came on and we were both feeling it. "fuck yeah!" dina screamed. we both moved our hips and swung our bodies around to the beat. but then my dancing got interrupted when i felt the need to pee. well fuck. i partially yelled at dina, "i need to pee! wheres the bathroom?" dina pointed down a darker hallway and i made my way over there, weaving through people. i spotted a door, this must be it. the door was unlocked and upon opening...i find ellie. she was leaning on the counter when i bursted in looking dazed at the wall. she, surprised, said "what the fuck?" i gulped and sheepishly looked back on the ground. shit.

"oh sorry. i didn't know it was being used." i maintained looking at the floor (hoping she didn't think im a creep) while i was shutting the door. then she stopped my attempt by grabbing the edge and said "no go ahead. i'm not using it anyway." she eyed me as i rushed in, "thank you thank you!" once she got out, i slammed the door and rushed over to the toilet. i sighed as the feeling of relief washed over me. thank fuck. it felt like 2 minutes of peeing but maybe it's because i was tipsy.

when i was done washing up i opened the door and ellie was still standing there. it was an awkward second of just her eyes staring into mine until she opened her mouth to a lit joint. i watched her take a puff in and then she offered it to me. "you want some?" i nodded. the joint, in between her pointer and middle passed to me. her skin brushed against mine and i licked my lips nervously. i eyed her hands, which looked rough with little scars scattered them. her eyes train on me as i brought the joint up and took a puff in just like she did. it was heavy in my chest when inhaling. i looked at her before exhaling and then released the smoke. huh. that wasn't so hard.

her mouth was slightly agape and her eyes were low. then she smirked a little bit, "i thought you'd cough." if i had been sober i would of been offended but i took this as a compliment instead. i smiled and then took another puff. i hummed at the feeling. i think i like this. i offered the joint back to her and looked over at the end of the hall where everyone was dancing. the music vibrated through the walls and it was started to become muffled. i felt relaxed, and my brain started to tingle. i laughed under my breath, this feels weird. ellie chuckled and smiled, "you're fucking high." i started to laugh. "shit maybe i am." silence took over the both of us and we were content with leaning on the walls outside of the bathroom. i looked at her. her eyes were trained on the ground, deep in thought. "can i ask you a question?" i said. she hummed and looked back up at me, "shoot." she took another puff. maybe it was the liquor courage had but i was curious. despite it not being my business it felt like this was my only time to say it.

"i know this isn't my business...but what's going on between you and that other girl?" i didn't know what to expect for a response maybe she'd get mad and tell me to fuck off or punch me. but she didn't, instead she furrowed her brows, "why?" i sighed (partly in relief), "i saw you when i got here. you looked upset." yeah i saw her, practically ogled her actually. her face was unreadable for a second or two. then she took a deep breath, "she broke up with me today because she's been seeing someone else. her name was cat." oh. her eyes looked down. then she licked her lips and bit down on them. i blurted, "i'm sorry." feeling a since of regret from asking. she started to laugh, holding the joint in one hand and the other pinching the bridge of her nose. she slowly stopped and looked at me, "sorry, i just i don't know why i told you. i mean i don't even know you." i laughed at that. "yeah i guess that doesn't really make sense."

she was still smiling but looked down. the more i looked at her the more features i noticed. her eyes especially drew in my attention, she had long lashes and her eyes were really fucking pretty. shades of hazel and green. her scar on her eyebrow suited her a lot. and her lips. they were the perfect plump pink lips and they also had a barley visible scar. a strand of hair fell in front of her face. i had the urge to tuck it back and kiss her but i didn't. my trance was interrupted by her eyes flicking back up at mine. but they didn't stop at my eyes. they stopped at the base of my shirts v neck. i saw her chest rise as she took a long inhale in. she stopped staring and adjusted her posture. i could see her ears turn a shade to red when she looked up at my face. she cleared her throat and was about to say something but got interrupted by a sudden noise in the room where everybody was. it sounds like someone broke something. we both started to walk towards the commotion trying to get an idea of what happened. someone had broke the coffee table. jesse was evidently mad and dina didn't seem to be that upset. i heard a "fuck" under her breath. when i turned to her she was leaving. i watched her back as she moved through the crowd. i didn't reach out or say anything.

hang in tight. pt.3 will be a wild one. and i promise you smut:-)

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams imagine #tlou2

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year

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The Arcana HCs: M6 administering first aid when it's their fault MC is slightly hurt

~ this idea has been sitting in my drafts for forever and I got an ask or two for something similar, enjoy the fluff! - brainrot ~

Part 2 is here:

- to set the scene -

It was evening time, and the two of you were in your shared space getting ready to decompress after a long week of work. You had just finished your bath and were drying your hair, but you couldn't find your comb. You glance across the room to where your beloved is and notice that it's right next to them.

"Darling, could you toss me my hair comb?"

They smile, pick it up, and toss it gently in your direction. Except that it flies faster than they expect it to. And they put a little more push and spin into it than they meant to. And when the comb smacks you in the face, one of the prongs manages to nick your eyebrow. You only feel a slight sting, but it's when your fingers come away from your face with a slight smear of blood that you notice the horror on your beloved's face. Oh dear.

Julian

Torn between the deep despair of what he's just done and his doctor's instinct to FIX IT, FIX IT NOW

Scrambling to find something to disinfect it with and clean it up, berating himself the whole time and concocting a thousand harebrained schemes to earn your forgiveness

During his search the memory of your little scratch is multiplying tenfold, what if you need stitches, what if you're permanently scarred across the face -

- until he sits you down and passes the clean rag across your face and oh, it's already stopped bleeding. It doesn't even need a bandage

The sheer relief has him cackling hysterically with tiny tears in his eyes, burying his face in your shoulder and asking for your forgiveness between sobs of laughter

It's also the stress of a long week getting to him, once five minutes have passed and he's still shaking you go pour a glass of something strong for the two of you to share and take your mind off of things

Asra

Both hands clasped over their mouth, eyes wide with horror

You can see tears threatening to pool in his eyes, he hurt you, how could he hurt you

As soon as you make a move towards them they are dashing to your side and brushing a shaky hand across your face to get a better look at it

Using healing magic as soon as you give him permission and then double and triple checking that there's no mark leftover

You're able to pull them out of their little spiral by asking them to kiss it better

That makes him laugh, and then he's pulling you closer and covering your face with smiling kisses

Will apologize for hurting you, and then for not giving you more credit to handle it

They'll stop feeling bad about it if you get the elephant out if the room by teasing him about it

"Yeah, you say you like my face, and then you go slicing it up with a hair comb, call me crazy but I'm getting mixed signals here..."

Hides his face in shame with the prettiest blush each time, "I said I was sorry, MC!"

Nadia

Utterly horrified. How could she. You asked her to do the simplest thing and she injured you instead

Completely at a loss on how to respond. She doesn't know first aid, she thinks one is supposed to elevate the injured area, but it's on your face and you're already standing up

It's on your face. She's officially responsible for scarring the greatest living work of art in the world, she'll never forgive herself

Her facial expression is the kind you'd expect to see on the kid who broke the cookie jar, not the Countess of Vesuvia

You're making your way across the room, holding in a giggle at the unusual look on her face, trying to tell her that you're fine without laughing

She's not convinced until you take a damp handkerchief and dab away the little drop of blood, showing a barely visible scratch underneath

"... oh." *recomposes herself* "well I suppose you didn't defeat the Devil for nothing."

You can see the little smile playing at the corners of her mouth and you know exactly how to make it blossom

"You have quite the arm, my lady."

Muriel

Be kind to him, he has trauma and from his perspective the sight of blood is all he needs to think that his worst fear is coming true

The first thing you do is use the edge of your towel to wipe off your face so there's only the scratch left

Then you're pulling him by the hand to sit down while Inanna climbs in his lap to ground him

Right about now he's realizing that technically someone could say he's overreacting so now he's flushing red and embarrassed and thinking about ways to hide

Obviously you're not going to let him hide or belittle himself, a trigger is a trigger regardless of how small it may seem to an outsider

Once he's taken a few deep breaths he'll steel himself to look at you before you even plan to work towards that and assess the damage

Oh, it really is just a scratch. There's not even any blood visible anymore

You're not going to tease him about it but Inanna will

Portia

She's laughing before you can even process what just happened

Her preferred method of sisterly comfort is a fist to the gut, mostly she's impressed at the fact that she could throw a comb that dangerously

She's also got her handkerchief in hand, pressing it to your forehead while you both giggle at the ridiculousness of the situation

She'll put a little bandaid on it too

The rest of the evening will be "injured warrior" themed

"Oh no, my dear MC, you have returned from war with a most horrible disfigurement! Whatever shall I do!"

She's doing this with her version of a posh Vesuvian accent, which layers hilariously over her natural Nevivon pronunciation

She'll comb your hair for you as her version of an apology

Can and will threaten you, Pepi, and Ilya with the hair comb in the future

"You leave me no choice. You laugh now, but if you do not help me wash the dishes I will remind you what these prongs are truly capable of!"

Lucio

"Oopsie."

The irony hits you that for once this is the completely appropriate response for him to make to his mistake

He can tell almost immediately that you're fine, he knows what major head wounds can look like and this ain't that

Grabbing a discarded shirt and tiptoeing across the room to you Captain Jack Sparrow style, he's dabbing the blood away gingerly and squinting at the scratch leftover like it's offended him

"We should get rid of that comb. It's weirdly shaped so it can't be aimed."

He's honestly not that bothered. He knows you're made of tough stuff, he knows you both got worse scratches than this earlier walking through a thorny patch of underbrush

If you decide to give him grief for it he'll suggest you throw the comb back at him, just so you're even

If you do and he doesn't duck and it does successfully scratch him too he'll be very proud of your matching battle wounds

"You aren't actually mad at me though, right?"

#the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #muriel of the kokhuri #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #portia the arcana #muriel the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana shitpost #the arcana fluff #ask arcana brainrot

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nicksnosering · 2 months

Text

I Hate Myself For Loving You Pt. 3

PT 1 PT 2

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

The night air was cool and biting against the wetness trailing down my inner thighs, and I marveled in the freedom I felt from such an uncharacteristically bold move I’d made.

My phone buzzed in my purse, and I let it ring out three times before finally picking up on the fourth call.

I didn’t get the chance to say hello before I heard him yelling in my ear.

“What the fuck? You’re actually fucking kidding me. My brother? You’re disgusting. You’re actually the most despicable human being alive—“

He kept going for another few minutes until I heard the sound of him breathing angrily into the phone, signaling he was done.

“Alright, Chris. I’ll level with you. Yeah, maybe me hooking up with your brother wasn’t exactly the nicest thing I could’ve done, but you and I both know you’re not stupid enough to be confused about why I did it.”

My heels clicked against the sidewalk as I walked, punctuating my sentence for me. I’d never felt so liberated, so free, so—

“I hope it was worth it considering I’m never going to touch you again.”

My heart fell to my stomach.

Of course I’d wanted to make him mad. I’d wanted to see him seething, undeniably jealous and unable to hold back from admitting it any longer. He loved me the way I loved him, I know he did. Does.

With the alcohol still coursing through my system, my mouth opened before my brain could catch up, my words coming out far bolder than they’d usually be.

“I’d never want you to touch me again.”

He scoffed. “I’ll level with you,” he sneered, throwing my words back in my face. “Your slutty little ass can’t stay away for longer than a day, maybe two if you’re feeling especially bitchy right now. I need you to listen to me, because I’m only saying this once. I’m not coming back this time. When you call me crying because you realize how badly you fucked up, I can promise you I won’t pick up. So you better pray to God it was worth it, because I am not going to fuck you. Ever. Again.”

A laugh bubbled up out of my throat, my head swimming slightly as his words only really half sunk in. My eyes rolled and I shook my head as a grin crept its way onto my face.

“See you soon, Chris.”

——————

Once I was inside my front door, I kicked off my heels and headed straight for bed, not bothering to get out of my dress or take off my makeup. Tonight was exhausting, and I could already feel the headache starting to come on, signaling a raging hangover in the morning.

I’d almost been asleep when my phone started buzzing again. My heart lurched, shocked that he’d given up so quickly and was already reaching back out.

Except it wasn’t him.

“Hello?” I said, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“Hey,” Matt breathed out. “I just wanted to make sure you got home okay. I couldn’t find you anywhere when I went back downstairs, so I assume you and your friends must’ve left.”

I smiled softly and warmth spread throughout my body. “Yeah, I’m home. Thank you for checking, that’s really sweet of you. Did you make it back okay?”

“Yeah, walking through my front door now. I’m sorry again about Chris, he’s not usually that…”

“Intense?” I supplied.

“We’ll go with that. Anyway, I just wanted to call and check in on you. I also wanted to say that I had a great time tonight, and I’d love to see you again if you’re up for it.”

The gears in my mind started turning, still feeling half-tipsy and fully spiteful. “Actually, I’m off work tomorrow, and I’ll probably be up for a few more hours anyway. You’re welcome to come over and continue the party here.”

“Oh,” he said, an air of surprise to his tone. “Um, yeah. That sounds good. Text me your address?”

“See you soon.”

I sent over the details and swiftly threw off the covers, climbing out of bed and heading straight for the bathroom. My reflection was rough. There was eyeliner smudged in rings around my eyes, and my hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in days.

When I heard the first knock at the door, I’d managed to wash my face and get my hair under control, swapping my dress for some sweatpants and a tank top in an effort to look sexily indifferent.

I swing the door open to reveal Matt, still dressed in the same clothes he was in at the party. I suppress a grin at the thought of him rushing out of the door after our phone call and step aside to let him in.

“Hey,” he says, a soft smile on his face as he steps through the threshold into my apartment.

“Hey,” I respond.

He follows me into the kitchen, and I pull a bottle of cheap vodka out of the fridge, setting it on the counter as I look for two shot glasses. “Feel like keeping up the buzz?” I call over my shoulder.

“Oh, always.”

I pour us two shots and we both slam them quickly, shivering as the rubbing alcohol taste sets in. “Sorry, I only buy the cheap shit.”

“All good,” he smiles, stacking our empty shot glasses and leaning forward on the countertop. “This is a nice place.”

I glance around at my cheap one-bedroom apartment, taking in the chipping paint on the walls and the out of date shag carpet that’s peeling up at the corners of the living room. I turn back to him with a raised eyebrow. “No it’s not. This place is a shithole.”

He laughs loudly, raising his shoulders in apology. “Sorry, just trying to break the ice and make conversation. It was the first thing that came to mind.”

“Real smooth,” I tease, circling the countertop and coming to stand next to him. “Who says we need conversation?”

He takes my not-so-subtle hint, wrapping his arms around my waist and giving me a gentle smile before leaning in and softly capturing my lips with his own.

Matt could not be more different from his brother. Chris is all rough grabs and harsh teeth and aiming to get to his end goal, whereas Matt is more soft touches and gentle kisses and putting your needs before his own.

I can’t help but wonder if there’s a way to meet in the middle.

His tongue lightly traces over my neck, placing a soft kiss just below my ear before sucking gently, like he’s scared to leave a mark. My fingers come up to wind into his hair, pulling gently and reveling in the low moan he produces before sucking a little harder.

I inhale sharply when he leans back and blows, the cool air sending a rush of goosebumps down my spine. His hand starts slipping lower on my body, finding the waistband of my sweats and pushing inside. His fingers swirl over the crotch of my panties, and he pushes them aside to rub lightly over my clit, the sensation sparking all of my nerve ending and causing me to arch forward into his touch.

“Fuck, Matt,” I whisper as I dip my head and rest it against his shoulder, gripping his bicep to ensure his arm stays in place. He takes it a sign to speed up, fingers brushing exactly where they need to, and I let out a small whine, wrapping my arm around the back of his neck and entangling my hand in the soft hairs there.

“You sound so pretty, baby,” he whispers back, and he slips forward and sinks two fingers into me quickly, pumping them in and out at a slow pace, fingers crooking in the perfect spot with every thrust.

I can hear myself panting and moaning loudly as he works, and I look up and make eye contact, taken completely aback by his features.

There’s a soft smile on his face and a caring light in his eyes, and he just looks so… soft. Like he gives a fuck how I’m feeling. If this is good for me. It’s overwhelming and devastating all at once, and I can’t stop myself from thinking that this must be how Chris would look if he let down his guard and was fully open with me.

My heart twinges painfully in my chest, and I feel slightly guilty for still comparing the two when I should be solely focused on Matt, but these past five months of emotional torture that Chris has been putting me through are embedded in my brain. I can’t seem to separate the two of them no matter how hard I try.

Another precise curl of his fingers causing me to come soaring back to reality, and I lean in to kiss him again, needing to feel his emotions rather than seeing them. The kiss is sloppy, breaking apart each time I pant or moan again, and he moves to place small kisses on my cheek, on my eyelid, on my forehead.

Just as I feel like I’m about to burst into tears from the sheer kindness of his actions, he pulls out and grabs the back of my thighs, picking me up and placing another small kiss on my lips. “Bedroom?” he asks.

“Through the living room, to the right.”

He caries me through my apartment, pushing open the door with his knee and walking inside before laying me gently on the bed. His hands slide down to the waistband of my sweats again, and he hooks two fingers inside, glancing up at me for confirmation. I nod gently and he slides them off my body along with my underwear before climbing onto the bed with me. He hovers over me and reaches up to remove my shirt, leaving me bare and exposed in front of him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, running his hands along my body in a way that’s far from sexual. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, trying to memorize every curve and dip and the softness of my skin. Like he’s praising me. Worshipping me.

I can’t take it any longer, and I yank his shirt over his head and reach down to tear open the button on his jeans, but his hands come down to stop me. I look up in question, and he laughs a little. “Slow down, sweetheart. We don’t need to rush through this, I want to take my time.”

The air leaves my body at his words, watching in a daze as he slides his pants and boxers off in one fluid motion. He leans back over me, head ducking down and tongue flicking out lightly over my nipple. I shiver and moan slightly as he slides his way down to between my thighs, and immediately sets to work lapping at my clit. His fingers come back up to slide into me and my hand flies down to his hair, gripping it tightly as I arch my back off the bed.

“God, yes. That feels so good,” I whine, digging my heels into the bed and scooting forward, trying to push him further inside me. His fingers begin to scissor slightly, and I feel my legs start to shake, so close to the edge but refusing to let myself fall over it yet. “Matt, please. Please, I need you inside me.”

His head pops up and a grin overtakes his face at my begging, but his fingers continue to work inside of me, twisting and arching and making me fall apart beneath him. He pulls them out and rubs slow, lazy circles over my core, watching me intensely. “You sure?”

“Yes, fuck. Please, Matt,” I say, moving my hand to his shoulder and trying to pull him up. He stays rooted where he is and gives me a wink, maintaining eye contact as he leans down and licks a flat stripe over me again.

It’s almost too much, and I let out a mix of a whine and a whimper, trying to pull back. His hands hook under my thighs, pulling me closer and keeping me firmly where I am. He blows again, the rush of air breezing over my clit and I feel my stomach muscles tense. “Matt,” I whine again.

“Okay, okay.” He relents, pulling himself up to settle over me. I feel his tip pressing against my entrance and he leans down, placing another kiss on my forehead before pushing in slowly. I gasp at the feeling, wrapping my legs tightly around his waist and arching up to try to take him in more. “Slow, baby. I want you to feel it all.”

I can’t even form words at this point, utterly wrecked under him from the anticipation. I feel each slow, excruciating inch push in until he’s settled at the hilt, and he pulls back out just as slow before sliding back in. I’ve never been treated so tenderly, and I feel simultaneously too cold and too hot with the way his gaze trails over my face, searching for any sign of discomfort.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, continuing his gentle pace. “Just like that.”

I finally give in, relaxing my entire body and simply allowing myself to feel. His head drops down to nestle against my neck, switching between light sucking and simply pressing his lips there, and I hear my phone buzz on my nightstand. He doesn’t pay it any mind, and I reach over to find Chris’s contact name lighting it up.

I knew he’d give in.

I ignore the text and opt for calling him instead, discarding my phone back on my nightstand as it rings. I watch the screen go black, signaling he picked up, and wrap my arms around Matt’s neck.

“Fuck, Matt. You feel so good,” I moan.

“You sound so pretty, baby. Keep saying my name,” he responds, picking up speed with his thrusts.

My body arches up into his and I pull his hair slightly, making him groan and dig his fingers into my hips. “Harder, Matt, please,” I choke out, turning to suck a spot onto his neck. The thought of him going home and Chris seeing it fuels me along with his noises, and he starts to pound into me mercilessly.

I’m holding on by a thread, and I can feel his legs shaking, a clear signal that he is too. “Cum for me, Matt,” I moan, and we both unravel together, my high-pitched whining turning into a near scream as he mumbles sweet words into my ear.

“Fuck, yes. God, I could stay here forever,” he says, nipping at my earlobe as we both come down. “Your body is so perfect. You’re so beautiful.”

I lean up and press our lips together, sealing his words into my mouth. We lay intertwined, sweaty and panting, and he rubs light circles over my back as his other hand runs its fingers through my hair. I’ve never felt so content after sex, and it’s a feeling I could quickly get used to.

I lean over to check my phone screen and see the call has ended, as well as six new text messages having come in. I flip it over and cuddle back into Matt, placing light kisses on his torso as we start to drift into sleep together.

Chris can wait.

#chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo

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rojacatmisa · 5 days

Text

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Holà, this is chapter 3. Not sure about the trigger warnings but I don't think it needs one. I think the way I want to tell my story works better by leaving some suspense. Let's say it's a slow burn and obviously and they will make out one day, so at a time there will be some explicit but not crude scenes.

Reminder : I'm french. Don't hesitate to tell me if there there's very strange sentences or things you don't get. Sorry I hope to get better by writing.

Starting over in Madrid

Chapter 3 : Calmly panicking

"That one’s actually very good, Hayley !" The camera screen displayed the goalkeeper in the air, her jumping body suspended as she grabbed the ball in her gloves. Droplets of sweat nimbed her forehead and spread all around her. Her thick brows were frowned in the effort. In addition to her beauty, what made the photo stood out was the technically tricky to capture action of Misa s’moving body.

Things were surprisingly going well at the Ciudad. Nothing had changed between Misa and I and as I was getting very fond of my job so I had commited for it to stay that way. We were having photo lessons almost every day after training sessions, occasionally joined by the northern girls Sofie, Freja and Caroline. But most of the time, it was the three of us that sat in a pitch corner, talking for hours until the staff would finally kicked us out of the stadium.

"Thanks Nicky! I’m thinking about buying a camera, I love photography for real!." Boasted Hayley.

"You should, teacher says you’re ready". Hayley had indeed proven herself an implicated student. She had applied my technical advices but she had also been willing to experiment on her own. As a result, she showed a taste for moving models and lights effects. Sometimes she would take neat actions with sharp details, sometime she’d rather set the presets to create blurry scenes where the bodies outlines melted in the background.

As to Misa… well Misa’s photos were Misa’s. She was having a hard time to concentrate and her taste level was really questionnable. She would put too much grain or contrast. Every shots were oddly framed. When I tried to guide her toward subtler artistic choices, she had said "Pero me gusta el efecto !" or "Vale Nicky, but I am the artist" with her now well known over the top manners. Misa was much: pretty, athletic, funny, goofy… and stubborn. She was doing everything at a hundred per cent, perhaps except listening.

So, I was rather irritated when she sat on the grass, ostentatiously sulking because I had not complimented her own work. Hayley, of course, wasn’t helping. "Maria Isabel hasn’t done her homework but wants to be praised!".

"I did but teacher doesn’t like me !" She moaned.

"Maria Isabel should be in detention." I said calmly.

"Por qué !? No !" She shot me an offended look and grumpily crossed her arms on her chest.

"Porque no escuchas nada and teacher is fed up." I was clearly enjoying myself at teasing Misa with the most calm.

"You don’t like my style, that’s all." She laid on her back, arms still crossed. Hayley walked over her, bent and angled the camera into her face and started taking pictures of the moody girl. "It’s because you don’t have one sweetie" She said. Misa opened her mouth wide, outraged. She rolled over on her belly, hiding her face from Hayley unceasing photoshoot. "Come on Misa! I’m sure you can do better, you’re not even trying!"

"I may have one last idea to help Misa get it…"Both head turned to me." There is a photo exhibit at Matadero Art Center just now. Maybe we should give it a try. And Misa will find what she likes."

"That would be great !" Said Hayley. She had stopped taking pictures and was now sat besides the goalkeeper. Misa moved to the side. "I already know what I like" she said frowning. We stared at her, eyebrows raised. "All right, we’ll go to your museo…". She sat up still pouting. "But before…" She stood up and reached out to me with an incredible speed. She easily heaved me in her arms and had me laying on my back before I got to know what was happening. "Misaaaa what the fuck ?!"

Misa, on all four over me, smirked and pined me to the ground with her strong hands. "Let’s switch roles ! Hayley come over and take some silly photos of Nicky for a change !" I was laughing hard and… getting aroused by Misa topping me. Her firms grasp and her weight were burying my hands into the grass. A naughty smile appeared on her beautiful face. "Let me go !" I shouted. I was breathing hard from struggle against her and from growing frankly excited. Hayley clicked madly on the camera trigger. She couldn’t see Misa’s penetrating gaze. Was it me or was she breathing harder too while keeping me lying down didn’t seem to cost her in the slightest? I closed my eyelid, too aware of the lens focused on me to look Misa in the eyes. Too turned on by everything that was going on… appart from the oppressing clicking noise and Hayley’s presence.

"I think we’re good and that it will be ugly, I promise" I heard Hayley. I felt the pression of Misa’s hands disappeared. I opened my eyes to find she had straighten up. Her legs on each side of my waist, she was peering down at me intensely. "I think you deserved that" she said, satisfied.

"I don’t think I deserved that much" I responded, catching my breath.

"You two, go get a room it’s becoming embarrassing ! Cuidad is closing, we have to leave". I had almost forgotten Hayley. Her voice was taking me back to reality. We both smiled nervously.

Misa got up, held out her hands to help me standing. As I took them she pulled me a bit too strongly, I lost balance and landed against her. My mouth touched the base of her neck only a second. She smelled a mix of sweat and perfume. She steadied me in her arms an instant. "I just saved the teacher, does it mean I’m no longer in detention ?" She released me. She hadn’t lost her smirk.

I composed myself again and took my authoritarian tone at once. "You are grounded for a month, both of you ! And in detention at the museum without question!"

***

I called Angela on the evening. I felt the urged to talk. Not especially about me. I just wanted to feel the connection with my best mate again but surely the conversation topic went on my new footballer friends.

"… and you’ve given them photo lessons almost every day ? Wow, Nicky I didn’t know you had that kind of patience !"

"How you would you know Angela, Madrid is changing me. I am a much more sensible and patiente personne."

"Still hard to believe… Anyway, I’m glad you hang with them. I like this Hayley, fuck the clause I would have seen you getting together. She has a sensitive fiber like you and seems fun !"

"humm, no Hayley’s a friend." I was laying down in my bed, calling Angela for at least an hour and a half now. I pictured Hayley in my mind. In derry, she was the total package and the two of us were really getting along well. But as pretty as she was, I wasn’t attracted by her. I was, despite all my efforts, always caught up with my attraction to Misa. Her poor photographer skills and moody behavior were so endearing to me and I felt more and more charmed by the goalkeeper’s whole personality.

"Nicky are you there ?" I didn’t realized I had stopped listening.

"Sorry ? What ?"

"I was saying I admire you, just being friend with such hotties ! I couldn’t !

"Yeah, incredible right ?! I closed my eyes, I was sure Angela had heard the nervousness of my tone.

"Oh no Nicky! Which one ?!" I smiled. It felt good she knew me so well.

"You won’t believe me…"

"Spit it out !"

"It’s Misa…" I was gazing at the celling, my absent smile widened as I spoke her name.

"Misa?? But she seems… I mean you don’t seem to have a lot in common."

"I know, anyway I shouldn’t even think about it…"

"But you do… ?"

I heavily sighed. Misa’s smirking face appeared in front of my eyes. "Yes… but I also think about the clause, the fact that I’m bound to it, that my working visa depends on this job that I love, and so is my lease…"

"Ok ok Nicky it’s alright, calm down. You’re finding a girl cute, what a big deal? You’re at least allowed that ! You are not doing anything wrong, you’re not doing anything at all, relax !"

"You’re right" As usual, Angela had found the words to reassure me. "But still, fucking clause !" I sweared.

"Fucking clause…" echoed Angela.

***

I received a message from Hayley on the morning before the exhibition visit.

My family are paying me a surprise visit just now. They came from Sidney I had no idea !!! This is crazy sorry for the museum I really wanted to go but I’ll spend the day with them. Im so happy

I answered it was ok and to enjoy her family time. Then I texted Misa.

"Hayley’s family’s just showed up and she can’t come. Do you still wanna go ?"

Misa’s text bubble appeared and disappeared a few times leaving me wondering what answer I was wishing for.

"Do I have the choice ? I thought it was my punishment…"

I grined, loving her playful side. Or was she … flirting ?

"You’re right but teacher would rather you go to your detention willingly."

"huh teacher wants a lot. What else teacher wants from me ?"

I gasped. She was flirting ! My mind ran wild, imagining the numerous things I craved from Misa. I breathed out deeply, tried to focus again as I pictured myself fiery kissing her. I had to take control of my brain again. I had to bury the surging wave of desire I felt at the simple idea of Misa wishing to give me what I wanted.

"Teacher wants you to have a good time" was the most diplomatic and sober answer I could come up with. I quickly added "See you then" to put a stop to that dangerous conversation.

"I’d say let’s see what’s going to happen. See you Nicky"

Wow, she was going for real ! How the hell was I going to survive the afternoon ?!

***

I was gulping down hard when I joined Misa at the entrance of Matadero Arts Center of Madrid. I felt so tensed when we hugged but Misa appeared to be her usual self. Once again, she gave no sign that something was going on between us and once again I wondered if I hadn’t misjudged her intentions.

We headed inside. The center was formed by many huge bricked houses which happened to be old slaughterhouses. None of the previous gloomy functions of the place has remained, it was now very pleasant to walk in the large aisles between the red buildings. In the middle of the afternoon, the sun was knocking hard on our heads. Misa was looking all around us, her hand above her dazzled eyes. "It’s a shame I’ve never been there before, living all these years in Madrid"

We reached the exhibition hall a few minutes later. I bought the tickets. Misa was following me closely. She clearly wasn’t in her element as we moved forward inside the vast hall. The exhibition was called "Deportes: fotografía en movimiento" and shown various approaches of taking picture of athletes. I was surprised to see Misa very focused. She looked at each photo, paused a long time when she seemed interested or intrigued by something.

"Misa, look at this one" The framed picture was showing gymnasts doing incredible acrobatic tricks. "Look at the geometric composition, that's what I was trying to explain about framing." Misa shook her head with enthusiasm. "I think I get it now, yes. But I have found what I want to do."

She took my hand and led me to a more hidden corner where another series of photos were displayed on the walls. "Wait, what ?" I let out. There were cats and dogs on every pictures, and even a baby pig. "They are the athlete’s pets" She said happily. She hasn’t let go of my hand. "I think I want to photograph animals, or nature." She came to face me with the cutest smile, and thought I had severe doubts this was going to help Misa progress technically, I replied "Yes! Ok! Let’s give a try on naturalistic photography!".

She smiled more widely, her hand still in mine, and her fingers softly stroked my palm while she loosened her grip. I started to panic. Her lips wore a more discreet smile as she watched me unsurely. She took a step forward. I had to react quickly but I didn’t want her to feel rejected.

"Come on, I’m taking you to the park along the river. There is plenty of birds and plants for you to shoot." I grasped her hand back to take us out of the hall and out of the prickly situation.

However, as we arrived at the park, I realized I had put myself in an even more perilous condition. The sun was setting. A light breeze was blowing in the trees. Birds were melodiously twitting nearby. An empty bench shield from the view was waiting for us at the end of a very lovely flowery path. I tried hard not to look at Misa. She was walking close to me, unusually quiet. I dared to take a look at her. She caught my side-eye and a shy smile appeared on her lips. What did I do? She was probably getting all wrong, imagining I had picked such a romantic place on purpose!

We reached the oh so welcoming bench. None of us spoke as we sat. I starred at the distance. I was feeling my heart pounding hard in my chest. Misa was looking at her laps, timid all of a sudden. I had to say something.

"You should try to shoot those flowers for a start" I tried as a diversion. "The red and bleu ones that look like the Barça kit. See, I’ve learnt about football." I added wanting to diminish the growing tension. "Oh no Barça please…" She rubbed a hand across her face. I had clearly said the wrong thing.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you" I put my hand on her shoulder. Her long hair was partially hiding her face. "Do… do you want to talk about it ?" I said hesitantly. She tensed.

"You don’t know about the Clasico. We keep loosing against them every times and honestly, I’m used to it. It’s ok even though I’m doing my best but…" her voice trailed down as she took a deep breath. "Next Clasico is one week away and that’s the finale of the Copa de la Reina." She lifted her head to look me in the eyes. "I don’t know if I can take the pressure this time..." She was talking so openly to me. The fierce and funny goalkeeper was allowing her unsecured part to finally surface. And that was when I realized I cared for her.

I took Misa into a hug. She sighed and buried her face in my neck. "You can do it Misa. I don’t know you for very long but I am certain that you can." She stayed there, her heavy breathing gently blowing my hair. "I really want to win!" She almost cried. "We keep doing better but we haven’t won any Spanish championship! Quiero ganar ostia!" She lifted her head again and I stopped hugging her. I was glad to see a frustrated grin back on her face. "You can do it! Hala Madrid! I feel part of the family now." I genuinely said to boost her up. She let out a soft laugh and ran her fingers through her hair. She took my hand again. "Gracias" she muttered. Her brown eyes found mine again. Her expression was so soft at this very moment. Her gaze went down to my mouth. I wanted to kiss her so bad. Her slightly parted lips quivered. My chest was about to explode as I slowly moved my face closer to hers.

At that precise moment, a loud buzzing sound came from Misa's pocket and had us both jump in fear. Misa straightened herself and took her phone out. I sled appart on the bench, breathing out a mix of relief and deep frustration.

"Holà Jenni" Misa answered in a slightly irritated voice. "no, no conozco las noticias…" She rolled her eyes at me. I was too shaken to be amused by the situation. Misa and Jenni kept on talking on the phone. In fact, it was more like Misa was listening to an unstoppable Jenni. I wasn’t getting much of the quick flowing Spanish of Misa. Besides, I was once again buried deep in my thoughts. My heart and reason were battling heavily against each other. Misa was getting seriously annoyed the call wouldn’t finish. She was founding hard to even speak a world between the endless sentences of her best friend. She turned for me to read the word "Perdón!" on her lips several times as I scrolled mechanically on my phone.

Minutes went by and night started to fall when Misa finally hung up. "I’m so sorry I should never have taken that call !" She sighted. I got up quickly "No prob. But it’s getting late, we should get going". Reason had won over heart for now. Or at least, chance had buy me time to really sort things out. Misa looked up at me, surprised. She hadn’t expected that. This time I didn’t dared to even take a glimpse at her. As I gave her no reaction, she let her head fall down in her hands. I heard her taking a deep breath before she finally stood up and started following me.

Lulled by the light swing of the train, a part of me had cooled down. An other part was going crazy for real. Misa was wanting me. A calm, almost pleasant panic was filling me entirely on the way home.

#woso #misa rodriguez #espwnt #fanfic #futbolista #real madrid femenino #spain wnt #misa rodriguez x reader #misa rodriguez fanfic #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #womens football #hayley raso #fanfic art #woso blurbs #woso x reader

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